#for now have these caps and know there's Thoughts coming up

[ohimsummer]

PUCKER UP! ft. NERDJO

— minors dni, nerdjo x meangirl! reader, college! au, pegging, ass-eating, this started getting sloppy nasty lmao reader is a freak fr, hints of stsg, pet names (pretty boy, princess), kind of proofread

wc 3k….😭

it's easy to get satoru to do anything for you.

he's caught off guard when he opens the door to his dorm and you’re shoving yet another homework assignment in his hands, backing him into the room. he's easily victim to honeyed words from your glossy lips, the flutter of your eyelashes. though, if that isn't enough, a firm palm to his already-hardening bulge is sure to get you whatever you want. the gesture is topped off with a promised reward of sucking him dry, however, you're both painfully aware that you would have done so anyway.

satoru settles beside you on his bed, where you lay browsing through social media. he works dutifully, though still listening and responding to the mindless school gossip that no one else would ever let him know about. you keep him well-informed.

twenty minutes have passed, and you spare the papers a glance. it astounds you that satoru is already halfway finished in less than thirty minutes with what would have taken you at least an hour. it's easy for him...maybe a little too easy. maybe a little unfair.

"you're working too fast.", you huff, wrinkling your nose.

satoru pauses, pen hovering over the paper. he looks between you and your homework. "... is that a problem...?"

you sit up on his bed, staring in disdain at the half-finished work in his lap. "if it was? you're not just rushing, are you?"

here he comes with the pouting. satoru is extremely confident in his work, and he knows you know he'd never let you get a bad grade. "don't critique me, i know what i'm doing–“

"bend over, i'm bored."

his jaw falls slack as you tug open the drawer next to his bed, and pull out the lengthy, baby-blue toy hidden away.

"you–, now–?", he sputters. "i'm in the middle of–"

"oh, shut it, shut it.", you wave off his complaints with a manicured hand. "can't you multitask?"

satoru opens his mouth to give a snarky reply, but his words fall short when you slip the tip of the dildo between your lips. he can feel your eyes on him, but his gaze won't leave the way the toy disappears into your mouth, and blood goes rushing to fill the half-erect hard-on he's been sporting since you got here.

you pull the dildo from your mouth with a 'pop!'. "so? be a good boy and bend over for me?"

it's kind of funny, how you don't even have to touch him or bat a lash or use that one flirty tone that makes his head spin, yet satoru still tugs his own shirt off and pants down. he faces away to lower his head and present his round ass to you. a finger traces over the hem of his boxers, embedded with two bold sets of initials on them: yours and an S.G. not satoru's own name, of course.

with a quick kiss to his thigh, you're pulling the white boxers down his legs and tossing them inside. satoru's asshole sits bare and on display for you, puckered and twitching as you admire him.

as if reading your thoughts, he mumbles, "don't stare so much..."

you break gaze with the hole inches from your face to raise a brow at your boyfriend. "shouldn't you be doing my homework?"

"uh–“, he scrambles to form a sentence."yeah, but–"

"pass me the lube and the harness, too."

satoru obeys your command, reaching into the still-open drawer to pull out a bottle of strawberry-flavoured lubricant and a light blue, leather harness. he reaches back a hand to give it to you, where you snatch both items from his grasp and satoru immediately hears the sound of the tube cap clicking open.

not wanting to be chastised again, satoru tries his hardest to steer his focus back to the papers beside him. the pencil trembles in his hand, but he manages to write all of three words before feeling your finger circling his hole.

he jolts, his face flushes at your mischievous giggle behind him, and satoru coerces his body to relaxation once more. it's a feat which is basically impossible when his mind is fixed on the way your finger traces the rim of his entrance, and the more subtle, wet sounds of you massaging lube into the dildo.

"i don't see you doing any work.", you scold him, and satoru yelps when you pluck a harsh finger against his hole. despite the surprise, his dick twitches at the mild discomfort.

pushing himself again to focus on the blurry words and math problems in front of him, satoru mashes the lead a little harder than he should into the paper, clenching the pencil tightly in his fist. he blocks out the movements and sounds going on behind him: the slick pumping of the dildo strapped to your waist, your other hand clutching and gripping either ass cheek in your palm, sinking nails into the skin for a quick lesson in pain before the pad of your thumb pokes and prods at his puckered hole again.

this lasts for what seems like an eternity before a new sensation sends a shiver up his spine, something that forces a gasp from his lips and raises the thin hairs on his neck. it's warm, wet, and familiar—the overwhelming feel of your tongue bullying its way into his insides.

"hey, hey, i–i won't be able to focus if you're doing that–!", satoru whines, but you pay him no mind. his fists wrench the fabric of the comforter as the slimy, pink muscle worms inside.

behind him, you moan at the flavor, slipping your tongue from his orifice to flatten it against his pale skin, running it from satoru's balls to the top of his ass crack. satoru flinches when you spit on his hole, and whines like a mutt in heat at the sloppy way you make out with his asshole. every kiss and bite to his cheeks has him tightening around your tongue, but you wriggle it with a driven intent to get him nice and loose for the absolute pounding you're about to bestow upon him. it's disgusting, and satoru fucking loves it.

he's so lost in you and your heavenly tongue that he almost doesn't register the warmth spreading in his lower body. it's at the last second that satoru lets out a strangled moan and his first orgasm comes washing over him. ropes of cum shoot out to coat his bare thighs and chiseled abdomen as satoru squirms from the sheer pleasure. he's so fidgety, he almost lets your assignment go slipping off the edge of the bed. it’s grabbed just in time, and he shoves it a little further away to avoid any more of the wet spots his drool has already stained into them.

you let him have his fun, come down from his little high, and then satoru feels your touch retreat from his sensitive behind. "did you still plan on getting that done today, or...?"

satoru shivers, and cranes his neck to give you a puppy-eyed gaze, tears having built up on his lash line. "...it's hard."

his poor, pathetic, puppy-dog tone and the deep pink tint across his cheeks and up to his ears yank at your heartstrings. it's times like this where you feel bad for being mean to him, even if it's all an act. satoru's just so fucking cute, he reminds you that can't keep up the cruel demeanor towards him forever.

"ohh.", you coo at your nerdy, loser boyfriend and peck short kisses onto his ass cheeks. "you want me to go slower, baby?"

"yes. yes, please.", he whines. "i can't focus to finish your work."

so adorable. truthfully you couldn't give less of a fuck about the papers anymore, but it's still a little endearing that even in such a position, satoru is still determined to get you the passing grade you don't deserve.

as promised, you take it down a notch, just to give him more control of his thoughts. and satoru figured taking things a step back would do wonders when you weren't absolutely ravishing his hole, but this...this may be significantly worse.

the once intense fervor of your movements has been replaced with a skillful precision. every stroke and flick of your tongue around his rim feels more pleasurable than the last, and satoru's cock jerks and aches at the slow, sensual sucks to his ass. you replace the dig of your nails with the occasional, unforgiving smack!, only to layer on top a coat of soothing kisses. the drawn-out movements make him even more conscious of every single thing you're doing.

but still, your plan was to grace him with some mercy, and satoru won't allow you to say he didn't at least try. so, with newfound strength, he squeezes the pen in his hand, and he gets to work.

his body remains painfully aware of the thrills and pleasure you shower him with, and satoru struggles to keep those feelings at bay from distracting his mind. it's a challenge, but satoru does likes a challenge, and he finds he's managed to complete the remaining bottom half of the current page. this is it. he's on the final paper, so close to the finish line, before he can stop having to worry about it. and then he feels your gentle tap on his thigh.

it takes him out of the space he's forced himself into. satoru turns until he just sees you in his peripherals. "huh? what's wrong?"

"nothing.", you reassure him. "do you want to pack that up before i start?"

'start?', he thinks, and then he feels the slap of the rubber dildo between his ass cheeks. "ah, um–“

his throat goes dry, and you gliding the heavy length back-and-forth along his asshole doesn't help in the slightest.

"just do your best, okay? i'm happy with a B."

satoru isn't happy with anything below an A-, but the complaint is stripped from his tongue as he feels the thick tip of your cock sinking into his hole. even with your slow movements, it knocks the wind from his lungs, and all he can let out is a choked moan. stuck gripping the streets, his cheek is smushed against the bed and his mouth agape, until satoru finally feels you flush against the back of his thighs.

there’s a beat, then your encouraging voice in his ear: “breath, satoru.”

a second later and you can see the tension leaving his larger, toned body. your hands make a delicate path up the curve of his back, massaging his sensitive nape which leaves him gasping, before one of them trails back up his spine. you apply pressure as you go, further pronouncing the arch in satoru’s pliant body, and the wandering hand ends at his hip.

slowly, you unsheathe the girthy, faux length from his ass, revealing more and more and more until only the tip remains. his hole tightens, and you don’t think you’ve ever been so jealous of both a man or a piece of fucking silicone in your entire life. you’d kill to have a real one right now, to feel satoru’s moist insides and the way he’d clench around you, sucking you in further and further until you were stuck balls deep in him. it’s fucking unfair.

“m–move, please.”, he begs in such a soft mewl. so needy, so impatient. so spoiled as you plunge your cock into him again.

a sharp gasp flees his lips, followed by satoru's strangled moan as you bury yourself to the hilt. there’s a prominent vein on the back of his hand from how tightly he grips the sheets, pillow, anything satoru can get his hands on.

though you move languidly, satoru quickly dissolves into an utter wreck. your hands hold tight onto his waist with initial intent to keep him steady, but his moans bring out a crazed animal in you. soon you're manhandling him back-and-forth to meet the ever-growing roughness of your thrusts. the sound of you pounding into him can't even be heard over the slutty noises tumbling out into the open air, hitting all four walls to fill the dorm room. it makes you ache, yearning for some relief other than the occasional friction of the harness against your clit.

"fuck, you're so hot.", you lean down and pant against his ear. satoru babbles something you can’t understand, and it makes you laugh. you can't help mock him a little.

"so loud, too.", comes the bratty taunt, and satoru whimpers out a barely coherent 'sorry'. god, he's so cute and pathetic. you feel like you're bullying him, corrupting your little nerd boyfriend, and it turns you on tenfold.

"aren't people living in the dorm next to you? they’re gonna be pissed.", you tease further, though never letting up on your thrusts and in fact picking up the pace. "these walls are pretty thin. suguru was here yesterday, did you get a noise complaint?"

"mhm."

that response catches you off guard—his audible confirmation along with a weak nod of the head.

"are you serious?" satoru nods again, and you let out an incredulous scoff. "damn, i was just kidding. i may have to go harder, then, i want them to know how well i treat you, too!"

it’s all gibberish in satoru's mind. with such scrambled thoughts, he can barely hold on to a thing you're saying, let alone worry about maintaining his now continuously waning status as a considerate neighbor.

"c'mere." your words sound muffled amongst the fog in his head. satoru strains his eyes and barely sees your blurry figure hovering over him. "pass me the pillow, babe."

he flails a feeble hand in the general direction of said object, finally landing on the soft cushion and using what—in his current state—feels like an absurd amount of strength in order to hand it back to you. a second later, he feels you tugging at his waist. “lift your hips up.” and, ever the helpful boyfriend, satoru uses every bit of remaining energy in his bones to raise his body.

"look at you, my good little loser." he feels you squeeze the pillow between him and the bed, and then goes limp again beneath you. his cock twitches at the soft pressure surrounding his length. it reminds him of a fleshlight, something you and suguru make sure he's extremely familiar with.

there's a 'smack!', and satoru whimpers at the sharp slap to one of his ass cheeks. you knead at the fat flesh in your hands, dulling the pain, and pull satoru’s ass apart to stare at the way his hole quivers and tightens around you.

"do you like being lazy?”, you tease. "letting me do most of the work?" he nods. "say it. tell me you’re my pretty little pillow princess.”

"i’m y–your pretty–, pretty pillow princess.", satoru moans with a cheek against the mattress, and lets out a feeble cry when you give his ass another loud smack.

"mmm, yeah." a sinister grin paints itself across your lips. your hands continue squeezing satoru’s sore ass in your palms, and your boyfriend groans in pleasure as you begin fucking into him again. "fuck, such a good toy for me."

you say something else, something he doesn’t hear, if not for satoru’s bedframe thudding against the wall, or the lewd slapping of skin on skin, then definitely because of his own moans echoing in his ears. there’s a short pause. satoru registers the dip of the mattress on each side of his head, and the blurry details of your manicure. the ticklish touch of your fingers brush against his forehead, moving locks of stark white hair to reveal more of his gorgeous face.

"my pretty boy.”

satoru whines at the praise before feeling the length of your cock rubbing against his prostate. it's calm at first, a frustratingly slow grind against his ass where he can feel the silicone balls of your strap up against his own. but soon you're picking up pace, slamming into him with each thrust, thrusts that send satoru flying forward every time you plunge deep into him again. every rock of your hips against his brushes satoru’s leaking cock harder and faster along the pillow under his body. it feels out of this world, and all too much to endure.

the heat and pleasure overrunning satoru has steadily evolved from a slow trickle, to growing waves, to a huge tsunami bearing down on him. his entire body is searing; he releases a particularly loud cry of your name as cum shoots straight into the fluff of the pillow, soaking deep inside the fabric as waves of pleasure flood over him. tears burn at his hazy, blue eyes, making it impossible to see clearly, but that doesn't matter when satoru's eyes are wrenched shut anyway as you slow to another grind against his ass, fucking him through his final orgasm.

satoru lies there, trembling and taking in heaving breathes of air. he lets out one last pathetic whimper when you pull out, leaving his hole tragically empty, but still accepts the press of a few soft kisses to his pink, tear-stained cheeks.

"satoru?", you whisper softly against his ear. “all good?” and you give him another kiss on the forehead when he gives a weak nod. "atta boy, you did so well. i'm going to get you a towel, 'kay?"

your boyfriend only makes a weak effort to grasp your hand, but you understand what he’s asking for, regardless. “fine, pretty boy. i’m right here, just relax and catch your breath for me.”

and, as usual, satoru follows your instructions without question. he is comforted by the gentle squeeze of your hand, the caress of your fingers through his hair, and the doting kisses you place on his shoulders, neck, and face. eventually, his brain is empty, drained. satoru begins dozing off to sleep in a far-away land—away from his room and away from homework, yet still surrounded by your soft, lingering presence.

🩵: @staryukis @lxnarphase @anthoosies @deepenthevoid @bubblez-blop @luvvmae @risuola @bunnymacaron @snowsilver2000 @hellkaiserinphoenix @cinnamoneve @satoruxsc @starlightanyaaa @domainexpansionmypants @giasssslife @babytoshiii @kissesfrombelle @v0ctin @purplegemadventures @luvvforliaa @apatuaia @sataraxia @leilalilox @sugu-love @manyno @the-monster-under-the-bed @blindbabycadder @xinfvl @jianyuu4mii @sherb3t @sugoroo @hellokittyish @satorvs @notdwenby @mamshousehusband @rubiesoferebor @andyramblingstuff @gojosbabyma @ravenbc @superkoolartist @nillosgarden

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐭 𝐧𝐨 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 | 𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

summary joel comes to pick you up from work, and after soaking up the night's energy for a short while, you finally let him take you home [fluff, kissing, 1.1k]

.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・．

There’s something different about the way he walks into a room these days. A gentleness as his eyes comb through the space to familiarize himself, not size up those in it. Tonight, Maverick’s buzzes with people desperate to forget the work week that now lies behind them. They laugh and drink and embrace the live music as it flows from the stage to wash their worries away. 

Joel expertly navigates through the crowd in a gruff string of excuse me’s and thank you’s. He'll never know whether they make way because of his manners or the broadness of his frame. From behind the bar, you watch him cross through a frenetic sea of patrons that part with every few steps he takes. The surrendered look on his face suggests that if he were twenty years younger, he’d allot time to work the room instead of having a one-track mind with a pin set on you.  

It’s not lost on him that your smile grows wider as he sits on the barstool before you. The chair creaks under his weight, but it’s a slight sound you have to strain to hear. He’s more interested in how the overhead lights bathe your skin in their warm glow.

There’s a quiet knowing between you, a familiarity that doesn’t need words to prove itself true. The moment he places his interlocked hands on the counter in front of himself, you brush your fingers over his knuckles before turning away. You return with a bottle of Lone Star in front of him, condensation rolling down the sides. You twist the cap off for him.  

Joel nods curtly. “Thank you.” 

“No, thank you.” There’s a sparkle in your eyes. 

Joel raises the beer to his lips to quell his smile. You admire how his large hand nearly consumes the bottle and how Adam’s apple bobs with each steady sip. When he sets it back down, you tilt your head in a way that makes his smile bloom anyway. He gives up on trying to hide it, and you’re glad it’s a short-lived fight. The lines on his face become more pronounced, but he looks years younger. 

You cross your arms over your chest. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Joel commits the lilt of your voice to memory like he has countless times since meeting you a couple of months ago. Each time, the note is different. A little kinder, a little fonder.

“Should be criminal hiding a smile like that.” 

“Thought you said you got off at six,” he changes the subject. “That was ten minutes ago.”

“I did,” you say.

Joel tracks you as you saunter from behind the bar to join him on the opposite side. 

“Figured if I lingered, it’d coax you out the parking lot.” You fix a rouge strand of his silver-streaked hair as an excuse to trace the shell of his ear and make him shiver.

“This seat taken?” You climb onto the stool beside him before he can answer. 

“Was sitting out there wasting my gas ‘cause of you.” He’s willing to waste way more than that.

“My sincerest apologies.” You give his thigh an affectionate squeeze. 

A month ago, Joel would’ve graciously pushed your hand away because of the thought of too many eyes. Too many trains of thought that could derail full steam ahead in the wrong direction. He learned from his father to keep his cards close to his chest—good hand or bad. In the end, all that mattered was how he deciphered their potential and chose to play them. But letting the world in was inevitable, and inevitability wasn’t always so bad.  

Joel takes another sip of his beer, this time to distract from the absentminded way you run your hand along his thigh, back and forth over his denim jeans. He wishes your touch was against his skin. You’ve always been so gentle that he’s begun to consider the possibility he could break after all. 

You briefly perk up in interest when the band starts playing a new song.

“We gonna sit here all night, or can I go ahead and take you home?” 

“What’s the rush?” 

“There ain’t one.” Life and patience are one and the same. “It’s just loud. A lot going on.” The type of scene that fueled him once upon a time.  

“We seem to be hearing each other just fine,” you say lightly. “One more song, okay?” 

Joel hums low in agreement. 

Thankfully, you hold fast to your promise. As the closing chord hums throughout the room, you stand and lead Joel out of the bar with one of his large hands at the small of your back. A few other patrons file out alongside you while others file in. 

Outside, as the Maverick’s sign glows bright, fluorescent red, the warm air is a welcome surprise. It’d been cooler the last few nights, and now there’s no need to hug your arms and walk swifter. Even though there are plenty of open spaces, you spot his charcoal f-150 parked further away than most cars. 

“How’d you know I needed to get more steps in?” You playfully peek back at him as he walks a few paces behind. 

When you’re seconds away from opening the passenger door, Joel rests a steady hand on your hip and uses it as leverage to make you turn and face him. No sooner does his large frame crowd into your space until your back meets the metal of his truck. Every move is careful and intentional. Not a single second passes where he isn’t gauging your reaction. Ready to course correct on a dime. 

When a surprised smile curls at your lips, he dips his head down to kiss it away with a tenderness that aches. Joel’s beard is a welcomed brush against your skin. A pleasant weight settles low in your gut like a small stone finding its home at the bottom of a riverbed. 

He cups your cheek with a calloused palm as his lips move against yours. He takes his time. Let’s himself enjoy the softness of your lips, the privilege of your proximity. It’s the most spontaneous he’s been in a while, but the moment washes over him so seamlessly he can pretend he’s this brave every night. Pretend that his inhibitions don’t take the reigns more often than not. 

When he pulls away, his breaths fan over your lips as he looks down at you. There’s a palpable fondness in his gaze that makes you wish you could get lost in his dark eyes forever. He’s the constant you’ve been needing as life attempts to pull you every which way. Wise, strong, dependable.  

“Let’s get you home,” he murmurs gruffly, thumbing gently along your lower lip. 

The distant sound of rowdy laughter tethers you back to earth.

- 

Thank you so much for reading! All likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. I promise I see them all! 

JOEL MASTERLIST 

ALL MASTERLISTS

[anika-ann]

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe thot about: CE!babe + forehead kiss ☺️

GASP!!! I was blessed by the visit of the hoe fairy herself 😍😍 Thank you 😭 As I can see, the Shameless One knows me well 🤭

Apparently, I am a hoe for fluff. Who knew? 🤭Everyone who knows me

The Constellation of You and I

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 1,7k Warnings: soft NSFW, 18+, smut-adjacent really, FLUFF, brief mention of Steve's job as Cap... and barely proof-read but with stars metaphors to make up for it A/N: Divider by @firefly-graphics

You could feel it surging though your nerves; light echoes of tingles of bliss still humming within, with every frantic beat of your heart, from your midriff to your fingertips, your hands feeling too warm as they remained laid over the bulge of Steve’s shoulder, over the slight curve of his lower back.

For every breath of his you gave two of yours, the bundle of your bodies, rising and falling slightly as your ribcage expanded against his hot skin, the firmness of his body and the welcoming softness of his touch like a touch of heaven itself.

He held you close as you sat in his lap, gently; arm wrapped around you to keep you flush against him as you still remained one, his other hand tenderly tangled in your damp hair as you rested your cheek against his shoulder, your quick breaths fanning his throat; his cheek in turn rested carefully on top of your head, occasionally shifting so he could press his lips to the crown of your head.

The afterglow was almost as blissful as reaching your peak had been.

However, the afterglow was slowly fading as reality and embarrassment was setting in, your face burning not only from the cardio you had engaged in, but because of the pouncing you had done not two seconds after Steve had walked through the door, fresh out of a mission.

Fresh out of two week apart for the first time you had started dating over three months ago.

That was what young love did, you supposed; it blinded rational thought and erased all plans for the meal you had prepared and the blankets on the couch you had set there so you could ease Steve back into the reality of a simple life rather than a damn near battlefield where any moment of distraction could mean catching a bullet or worse.

You had missed him like crazy – of course you had. He had texted you whenever he could, a short message at least to let you know he was well and wishing you to be well also, occasionally telling you he missed you. With his mind laser-focused on his mission and the team he felt responsible for, understandably so, you expected nothing more, grateful for the scraps, even as written in half-hearted hurry.

Then, he had let you know he was coming home, with everyone safe and sound, tired but nearly unscathed, himself having but bruises already halfway healed. You had planned a quiet evening to reconnect with him, ecstatic at the premise alone of seeing him, trying to tame your less-than-decent needs with the sensation of genuine relief at him being alright and coming home, claiming to be happy to spend an evening with you if you’d like. A nice, grounding evening full of comfort.

And then this goddamn man appeared at your doorstep with a sheepish smile and a spark in his eye upon seeing you, a bouquet of pink roses and you had to physically hold back for long enough to put the gorgeous gift of his into water at least. And as soon as you managed that, your lady brain cut in and took full control, practically assaulting him and the lovely blue shirt he was wearing.

Steve certainly didn’t protest and participated rather enthusiastically as you kissed him breathless and walked him – pushed him almost – to your bedroom, discarding his and your clothes, hands wandering, gentle and needy and wicked, his red red red kiss-swollen lips parted so beautifully as you bounced on top of him until you both saw stars behind closed eyelids and reached for them eagerly with your fingertips, the sweet taste of stardust exploding on your tongue and consuming you with its light; but now, as the afterglow flickered away, bitter shame and sour vulnerability creeped in and began to swallow you into a black hole instead.

Yes, Steve was alright.

Yes, he was happy to see you.

Yes, he was all in, praise falling from his lips, whispers of how he had missed you too, how he needed you.

But dammit. You felt like the most socially inept and least empathetic person in the world, awkward in her impromptu display of desire.

And Steve, brilliant, beautiful Steve, must have caught on by now, because one of his warm palms sprawled on your cheek, tenderly leading you to lift your head and meet his gaze. And for all your messy feelings, you could not resist but do so.

You could never resist. Not to Steve.

“Where’s that beautiful mind of yours, sweetheart? Are you alright?” he whispered, eyes roaming your face, the spark, that damn spark that could set the world ablaze and heal it all at once, being a sweet tell of his. A tell of how he was happy to have you in his arms, all around him, despite your… enjoyable shortcomings.

“Why, right here with you.”

You awkwardly tried to mirror his smile even as your face still burned, succeeding somewhat – you must have. Because Steve’s lips curled up further, fingertips caressing your brow, following the line of your cheekbone, your jaw.

You melted against his body despite yourself, warmth humming in your veins as his gaze followed his touch, as if he was committing your features to memory.

“Good,” he said, leaning to kiss your forehead. “I missed you being with me. So close, in my arms. So sweet and w-“

“I’m sorry I pounced at you like that!“ you blurted out, cursing your tongue which always seemed so loose around him as soon as the words were out.

Steve’s fingers froze in their tender exploration, his lips remaining not further than an inch from your hairline, his body turning rigid and you could smack yourself.

“I mean… I just—I made calmer plans and I know it must have been hard out there and I… I didn’t want you to feel like--- I missed all of you, you know? I didn’t want to make you feel like… I don’t know, I’m rambling, I’m sorry.”

Steve was yet to move, even his ribcage still, not even drawing in a breath. Your heart thundered against your sternum, in your temples, all over you, consuming you with the heat of embarrassment, a whimper-like plea for the ground to swallow you forming in your throat. You did not dare to move either, your hands having curled into fists against his shoulder and back.

And then he chuckled.

Steven Grant Rogers, the loveable jerk, chuckled and kissed your hairline again, making you actually whine.

“Nooooo-“

“Sweetheart, are you embarrassed for wanting me?”

Your denial of the statement – a blatant lie, but not really – died on your tongue as he moved to cradle your cheek again, meeting your gaze, the previous spark lit aflame with new life as he observed you with a smile that made you squirm on his lap and lit your face hotter than a supernova.

“I-“

“I’m not. And I want you, always. You drive me crazy in the most wonderful ways,” he said, his smile only widening as you lowered you gaze and worried your teeth over your lower lip, the soft admission brining a smidge of relief and confidence.

“I mean… I’m not ashamed. Not of that...” you whispered, taking a deep breath and gathering courage to look him in the eye again, met with a gaze so tenderly inquiring you felt yourself relax just a bit, trying to scramble for coherent thought. “I just feel like just because I missed you it doesn’t give me the right to jump you without a chance to… to allow you to return to the right headspace for something like that. I was here. Safe, in my little apartment and life I built, meeting friends and colleagues and… simply being. You, on the other hand…”

You trailed off, your voice catching in your throat as you caught into the emotion written all over Steve’s face.

The sheer wonder – and dare to say love – shining in his irises almost chased tears into your eyes; stealing air from your chest and replacing it with glowing warmth of the Milky Way on the clear skies in the countryside upstate.

You were still but the air shifted; neither of you moved but the whole planetary system seemed to tilt off its axis, a new star born to became the centre of the universe right between you, in Steve’s featherlight touch and the hoarseness of his voice.

“That’s—I’m not--- You’re incredible. I… really appreciate the thought,” he whispered, the soft edge of his smile like a caress to your soul. “But despite everything, I need you to know I meant what I wrote. I thought of you and missed you, every day-“

“Steve, you don’t have to--- I know that when you are on a mission it’s hundred percent and you have a huge responsibility and there’s no space for-“

Two fingers slid under your chin, carefully but effectively stopping your slightly self-deprecating but entirely true words from flowing; Steve’s eyes, suddenly incredibly serious, bore into yours.

“Every. Day. Do you believe me, love?”

A shudder rushed through your body, a shaky inhale expanding like a nebula inside your lungs, the single word, endearment and declaration in one, causing your heart to tremble with affection. You read no doubt but a speckle of distress in Steve’s widened pupils, making it seem as if he had left slipped something he might be sure of, but did not mean to reveal; and it made your own love for him grow tenfold, your eyes turning a little glassy.

You willed your lips to curl up in a smile, hands coming up to cradle his face, erasing the slightest flicker of panic in his features.

You kissed him on the lips, lightly, but with taste of a new emotion born out of his confession; a confession on your own.

“I do, love. I do.”

He kissed you back with a tender grin and this time, when hands began to roam and he laid you on the bed, they roamed in sync; they explored the galaxies and eternity written on your skin and his, your lips rewriting the stars so they would align to pave the journey you’d set on together.

You kissed him without shame and he reciprocated, every touch and every gaze a promise:

I’ll miss you, whenever I’ll go.

I’ll think of you, wherever I’ll be.

I’ll love you, whatever you and I are meant to be.

My Steve fics // All my fics

Thank you so much, Siri, for blessing me 🥺

No, I don't exist on sharing only thots when sent an ask, I WRITE 😂

Thank you, lovlies, for reading and potential feedback/reblogs and such 💕

Have yourself a lovely day/night ✨

[munsonsmixtapes]

I Know You Want My Touch For Life

rockstar!eddie x popstar!reader

You and Eddie meet at an awards show and realize that you have much more in common that you initially thought.

This is based on the song "Juno" by Sabrina Carpenter

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) breeding kink

The lights begin to dim as you sit down at your designated table. You have a drink in hand as you try your best to act like you’re sober. You don’t know how many drinks you’ve had but you’ve been downing them like they’re water, feeling all giggly because of all the effects. 

The show is starting and you make small talk with the other people at your table, all of you yapping away as the host comes out on stage. It’s an actress who you can’t remember the name of because to be honest, something, or someone else has captured your attention. 

Eddie Munson is across the room, sipping on something before laughing half-heartedly at a joke the host has made. Everyone but you is in on the joke but you’re not paying attention. Eddie has captured all of it. He looks so good in his suit and you honestly can’t believe that he’s real, that he’s in the same room as you, because for a while, you were convinced that your brain has just made him up. 

You don’t know what you’re doing. The alcohol has definitely taken control of your brain because before you can stop yourself, you’re pulling your phone out of your clutch and pulling up his instagram account, curious to see if he’s following you back and to your surprise, he is. 

He knows who you are. You’ve been crushing on him for so long and you know he likes you too. Well, he did. You vividly remember him saying that you were his celebrity crush a few years back but you’re not sure if that’s still true. 

Because of your drunken state, you end up liking basically every photo on his profile, commenting nonsensical emojis on every one you’re liking which is something you’d absolutely never do if you were sober. 

Once you’ve looked at his profile for long enough, you go to DM him, trying to think of something to say but just come up with the word “hot” in all caps which is all you seem to be thinking as you go back to his profile, continuing to like and comment on his posts. 

Eddie sees you out of the corner of his eye and now he can’t seem to stop looking at you. His very obvious crush on your is getting even bigger and as he watches you from across the room, he wishes that he could be the one sitting next to you and not that guy who you’re giggling with. 

He doesn’t handle his jealousy well, always acting impulsively, usually doing something he shouldn’t. He’s actually sober tonight for once which actually makes him feel calmer than normal. He’d definitely do something he’d regret if he had a few drinks in him which he squally would have by now. 

“You should ask her out,” Grant whispers to Eddie as he follows his line of sight. Eddie just scoffs then turns back to the stage, suddenly remembering that there’s a show going on before him. 

“Right,” is all he says as he claps for the girl heading towards the stage to get her award. Holy shit, it’s you. And you’re stumbling as you try to get up the steps while still somehow looking so graceful. 

Before Eddie can stop himself, he’s rushing towards the stage, reaching out to help you up since clearly no one else is going to do it. You’re putting your hand in his and suddenly it feels like electricity is moving through his body. He’s quick to gather the train of your dress which is the reason why you’ve been tripping and he follows you up the steps, watching your every move to make sure that you’re okay. 

He’s following you to where the presenters are standing, admiring how you take the award so gracefully. You grab hold of his hand and pull him close to you as you stand in front of the mic. 

Your mind is nothing but hazy, foggy from the alcohol and you’re trying your best to think about your speech that you had written up, leaning into Eddie, making it impossible for him to resist your touch, how good you smell. It’s intoxicating. 

“Oh my gosh,” you gush, smiling wide as you look down at the award in awe. You can’t think anymore, all of the words evaporating from your brain as you look out into the audience then over to Eddie who’s smiling down at you like you’ve hung the moon. 

“I can’t believe I won,” you slur, much more drunk than Eddie realized and he doesn’t want you to make a fool out of yourself, suddenly feeling protective over you. You haven’t been in this industry for as long as he has and he would hate for you to make the same mistakes as he’s done. 

“C’mon, honey,” he says, leading you back towards the stairs and you feel your cheeks getting hot at his nickname. To anyone who doesn’t know the two of you, it almost looks like you’re a couple. You’re eating that up, wishing that you were a couple like you have been for years. Maybe this will be the night you finally make a move. 

Eddie leads you back to your table where there’s conveniently an empty chair next to yours. You invite him to sit and he does, wanting to look out for you, to make sure you’re okay, especially after having so much alcohol in your system. 

He makes you drink some water to help sober you up and you actually kind of like him bossing you around. You don’t usually like being told what to do, but with Eddie? Oh, you’ll do anything he says as long as he’s looking at you with those pretty brown eyes. They’ve quickly become your weakness. 

Once the water is drained from your cup, he seems satisfied so he stands from the table only for you to reach out and grab hold of his hand to stop him. You’re giving him pleading eyes, close to batting them to get him to stay. 

“You can’t go,” you tell him. “We’re having fun.” Eddie feels bad for leaving, but he’s gotta get back to his table, feeling guilty for abandoning his band mates for a girl. 

“Tell you what,” he says, sitting back down only for a second. “There’s an after party at that hotel down the street. Meet me there and we can have some fun.” You feel yourself getting wet just thinking about it as he pulls away, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before heading back to his table. 

-

Eddie finally gets the chance to check his phone that had been vibrating constantly throughout the show. When he does, he’s in shock seeing your name so many times in his notifications. There have to be at least fifty just from you amongst the thousands he gets every single day from fans. But this is different. It’s you. And you were spamming him. 

It’s strings of nonsensical emojis but he gets the gist. You’re clearly thirsting over him and he’s eating it up. He could tell you were into him when he was sitting with you, but now he’s got proof. He’s really hoping that it wasn’t just how you were feeling when you were drunk and that you’ll actually take him up on his offer. God, what he would give to have his way with you. 

He desperately wants to see that pretty dress of yours on the floor of some random hotel room, his own clothes strewn across the room as he’s got you pinned to the dresser, pounding into you from behind as he forces you to look into the mirror that’s on top of it. 

And when he finally opens the DM from you, well, fuck, now he’s got to have you. It’s not an option anymore. 

So does your name Eddie “the freak” Munson mean that you’re actually willing to get freaky or am I reading it wrong? 

He’s honestly impressed you were able to write that out without any errors and now he’s gotten even more hard as he wonders what kind of stuff you’re into, what he’ll let him do to you. What you’ll do to him. 

He’s scanning the place for you, keeping an eye out for that beautiful dress of yours. He spots you over by door talking to Gareth. And even though he loves the guy, he’s now an opponent. Jealousy is coursing through him, something he’s never been able to handle well and now he’s not sure how he’s going to get his band mate to go away by speaking to him nicely. 

“Hi,” you beam when Eddie approaches and he has to compose himself when he sees your hand on Gareth’s shoulder. 

“Hi,” he replies, mimicking your smile, hoping he looks as cute as you do but knows he doesn’t. 

He’s so hot that it’s unfair. Even after sobering up, you still want him so bad, still wanting an answer to your question. You’ve seen him so many times at events like this and now more than ever, you do desperately want to pin him to the wall and take him right there, not even caring who’s watching. 

Your attraction to him that’s been building over the years is so strong that it’s almost tangible. You’re so wet that it’s almost uncomfortable, your need for him growing by the second. You hope you didn’t weird him out with your emojis and DM and that he’s still willing to give you a chance. 

“Hey, Gareth, I think that blonde you were talking about earlier is checking you out,” you subtly point to the woman who’s closer to the stage and Gareth whips his head in her direction just in time to see her wave him over. He’s quick to flee, finally leaving you and Eddie alone. 

He steps closer, his eyes darkening as he does so. He’s biting down on his bottom lip as he lets his eyes slowly rake over your body before pulling it flush to his. His hands rest on your waist as your arms wrap around his neck. 

The want is there but neither of you are making a move, just staring each other down with lust filled eyes. It’s like you’re waiting to see who’s going to make a move but neither of you wants to be the first to do so. 

“So jealousy is what motivates you to make a move,” you observe and Eddie just leans forward, his lips right by your ear. 

“No, it’s actually dirty DMs, but seeing you with Gareth did make me act faster.” He pulls away just in time to see your gaze moving to his lips and he purposely wets them to make them look more inviting, his tongue swiping across them slowly as if to tease you and it seems to work because you’re pulling him in before he can even finish. 

It’s desperate with roaming hands and breathy moans, definitely not suited for a public space but neither of you seem to care, too caught up in each other to notice the dirty looks that are shot your way. Eddie’s backing you out of the room and towards the elevators before it can get too inappropriate for anyone to see and you’re pushed into an elevator as soon as it opens. 

Eddie’s got you pinned to the wall, his tongue flicking into your mouth as you let out a moan as he grinds against you. Your hands are tangling in his hair as he scoots to the side to press the button that will lead to the floor he’s staying on. You’re then back against the wall in a flash and he grabs hold of your legs, wrapping them around his waist, mumbling something against your lips that you can’t hear as he carries you out of the elevator. 

You’re still wrapped around his waist as he uses his key card to unlock the door to his room. As he’s occupied with that, you’re sucking on his best, trying your best to leave a mark so people know exactly what he’s gotten up to tonight. Another trophy for the night. 

Once the door is unlocked, he heads inside and lets it slam behind him as he sets you down on the bed. He drops to his knees to help you take off your heels and you smile at him, admiring how he can be such a gentleman. Once he pulls them off of your feet, he sees the imprint that they’ve left behind and begins to massage them, his cock somehow hardening even more when he hears you moan at how good it feels. 

You lie back on the bed and Eddie kisses up each leg, giving them some love before spreading them, pushing up your dress to see the wet patch that’s formed in your panties. The white fabric is now almost see-through because of how wet you are and he decides that he’s got to have you right now or he’s going to explode. 

He pulls down your panties and tosses them to the side to find that you really are wet beyond belief and that only makes him want you more, especially when you’re looking up at him like you want to devour him. And he thinks he just might let you. 

Eddie pats his pocket for what you assume is a condom and even though you feel crazy for suggesting what you’re about to, you do it anyway. It’s spontaneous, but hasn’t the whole night been that way. Certainly neither of you planned to be here like this tonight, but you supposed that it’s just fate. 

“I don’t want to use a condom,” you tell him and he’s now intrigued. “I know it sounds crazy, but I-I kind of like the idea of having a baby with you. I know we just met, but-“ 

“You don’t have to convince me,” he shakes his head, cutting you off. He’s down on his knees again, placing himself between your legs as he pulls you to sit up. “Whatever you want,” he presses his forehead to yours. “I’ll give it to you. So if you want a baby, let’s have a baby.” 

“You’re serious?” You honestly didn’t think he’d agree and especially not so quickly. You’re strangers, after all and you’ve never even thought about having kids, especially not with your career, but having a baby at the height of it all with the man you’ve been crushing on for years just feels right. 

“Yes,” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours as he helps you lie back. His clothes are off in a flash and he’s helping you take off your dress in the blink of an eye, taking a moment to take in just how beautiful you are. Oh, he’s going to love this. 

He lies on top of you slowly as he pushes inside of you, his hands finding yours as he begins to thrust, slowly at first, but once you get into a rhythm, you’re moving fast and hard, trying to keep up with each other as the only sounds that can be heard are your filthy moans and skin slapping against skin. 

Eddie is not shy about letting you know how hot he thinks this all is, that he’s actually obsessed with you potentially getting pregnant, how much he wants to fill you and it only makes you want his baby even more as the filthy words fall from his lips. 

“I like the way you fit,” you tell him as you run your hand over where you’re connected and his eyes darken as he watches you, pushing his cock even farther inside of you until he’s bottoming out. 

“Me too,” he rasps as he somehow moves even faster, even harder. “Fuck, I’m going to love filling you.” He leans down so that his lips are right by your ear, his breath making the hair on your arms raise. “Fuck, you’re gonna look so hot, sweetheart. I’m so honored that you asked me to do this, but how did you know I had a breeding kink?” He bites down on your earlobe before pulling away, so close to coming just by looking at your fucked out face. He’s already made a mess of you and he’s barely done anything. 

“Swear you’re going to be the death of me. When you showed up in that dress tonight, I swore I was done for. I mean, jesus, you have no idea what you do to me. When you dmed me tonight, swore I was going to explode in my pants. And by the way,” he leans down and presses another kiss to your lips. “The answer to your question is yes.” 

“What?” You ask through a breath. 

“You asked if my nickname “the freak” means that I’m willing to get freaky and the answer is yes.” He kisses you again and you feel even more dizzy and this time, it’s not from the alcohol. “But we can explore that some other time because right now, this is all about getting you knocked up.”

“You gonna make me Juno?” You asks as you buck your hips against his and you just know that he’s close. You can feel it. You can see it on his face as his eyes are practically rolling into the back of his head. 

“Fuck yes,” he whines as he begins to unload, still pounding into you as he orgasms, pumping in and out until he collapses on top of you, both of you absolutely spent, just lying there until he eventually pulls out and cleans the two of you up before climbing back into the bed, pulling you to his chest with a contented sigh. 

You lie discussing the possible future and there’s just something about being there that just feels right, almost as if it’s fate that brought the two of you together. Baby names are thrown back and forth as you both begin to feel tired. 

“Hey,” Eddie speaks up as you pull him closer to you, lying your head on his chest. 

“Hm?” You ask, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Juno would be a really cool song name,” he suggests and you laugh it off but you begin to think that maybe he’s onto something.

[littlestl4mb]

you should make a little blurb about jealous lu!

PS: I love your work you are so cutesie

thank you dear anon!!!! i will put this under the cut because i kinda wrote more than i meant to lol oops

okay so i was thinking about this heavily. at first i thought hmmm luigi doesn’t strike me as the jealous type idk… he’s so intelligent and he’s an engineer so like… you know that mf is as logical and solution-oriented as they come. for better or worse. but then... i thought about it again and i went no YEAH lu definitely gets jealous... i think college lu FOR SURE would. and it drives him mad bc he knows his jealousy is stupid. it’s a foolish feeling, he probably thinks. yet one he can’t shake himself free from. especially when you’re first seeing each other but it’s not completely exclusive yet. when things between you are casual because you’re just getting to know each other?? yeahhhh his brain is going wild 24/7. he can’t stop thinking about you. he can’t stomach the idea of you spending your time with another person that isn’t him. he hates it too because he just knows he’s being too obsessive, that he’s being way too much. he has a lot of self awareness— he knows how to rationalize his heart with his head. but… he can’t stop the compulsive bitterness he feels towards anyone that shows you any sign of affection!!! the hormones just go crazy in that man’s head. he tries to keep a cap on most of his feelings, but when it comes to you it’s nearly impossible. and it only drives him more mad because he’s soooo aware of his jealousy and how futile such a feeling is, but he literally cannot save himself from it. 

he sees you walking down the sidewalk with some guy, and he hates the way his stomach drops. he acknowledges the fact that he has no autonomy over who you see or hang out with, and still he can’t stand it. loathes it. feels so powerless to an emotion that is eating him alive inside and out. the worst part is he kind of knows the guy you’re walking with too. not very well but enough. the kid isn’t even that bad— has exchanged some kind words with luigi before in passing. but all it takes is for the guy to be in the place that luigi has self righteously already claimed as his in his head, and now luigi fucking detests the guy. 

he rants about it to his friends the moment he sees them, “i just don’t fucking get it. the guy has no hobbies. he can’t write. have you seen the books he chooses to read around campus? horrible taste. i don’t see what she sees in him.” — and all his friends are telling him he needs to cool it because it’s out of his control. 

don’t worry though, luigi does not believe in cooling it. in fact, he calls you up on the phone and leaves you a 3 minute long voicemail. he’s not afraid to say how he feels so he lets it all out. he’s telling you how “you’re wasting your time with whatever-his-name-is.” says something like, “does he even do anything? i mean it. does he? at least i started the video game development club.” 

luigi is going OFF in his little voicemail. you listen to the full thing when you’re out of class, generally surprised by how out of the blue it is. the thing is, you didn’t even see luigi earlier when he evidently saw you. he must’ve spotted you and then slipped out of sight immediately.

you have another class to attend to, and not enough time to deal with whatever melt down the man is having. so all you can text him is ‘luigi, he was walking out of class with me and we were talking because we just got put together for a group project.’ it’s the truth too, there wasn’t anything nefarious going on between you two. 

of course, luigi calls you right away. you can’t pick up, but that doesn’t stop him from calling about 5 more times. when he finally sees you later, he probably stands by his word. he’s got too much pride to admit his wrong doing. or the fact that he jumped to conclusions so fast. 

…and then i think once you’re in a proper relationship, the way in which luigi gets jealous shifts. it’s not so much over the simple and stupid stuff. not the silly little things that you get jealous of when you’re young and think you’re the center of the world. when you’re finally exclusive with each other, he has no insecurities that you’re all about him. but … he is a taurus man and every taurus man i’ve ever known is jealous in the most covert way. and in my experience it’s in a very specific way too?? which i would call the “i have to know i’m important in your life” kind of way. 

it’s not so much about being jealous of you hanging out with others. no, in fact he likes that you have your own ways about you and you’re independent. but there’s still a part of him that needs the reassurance that he’s very much important to you. i hope this is making sense. like, he wants to know when you think of him, and he wants you to admit when you’ve missed him. he’d straight up tell you this too. “can you just admit when you think of me? i can’t just know it. i have to hear it in person from you.” 

also, i think he’d have this strange kind of possessive jealousy, where he has to know you through and THROUGH. he has a need to know you as much as humanly possible. he needs to be closer to you than anyone else. he gets jealous and bitter at the thought of others knowing you better than he does.

he’s observant, yes, and knows you that way. but he likes hearing you talk about everything and anything too, so that he can understand you more than anyone else ever has. he needs to know the memory you have of being a little girl and walking down the street, and how the people and buildings were just so tall. something so mundane that you never bothered telling anyone else, he has to have that knowledge like it's a drink of water when he's been walking through the desert for months. and i’m telling you right now— that man wants to know the block you grew up on. he wants to go there by himself and walk down it. he tries to see what you saw as a little girl, wants to see things how you saw them when you were young. thinks that if he does that, he can fathom your thoughts a little better. maybe be able to think your own thoughts himself— that he might know you so well that he becomes a part of you. 

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

second chance. l Frankie "Catfish" Morales

Summary: you broke up after a quarrel, now you've met again

Warnings: angst, mentioning drug addiction, crying, breakup, mentioned Santi, some fluff at the end

A/N: I had to clear my head. I'm not proud of it, but I had to write something. Be gentle. Thank you for being here and reading these scribbles.

your feedback is very important to me and I want to thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. I secretly hope you like this story.🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

[my masterlist][Frankie Morales masterlist]

"Hi, you look good."

You didn't expect those words, but you knew that voice so well that your heart skipped a beat. A strange feeling filled your body, as if someone had suddenly stripped you of all your insides and left you empty. Even though the pub was filled with people, suddenly it was just you and him.

"Hi, Frankie." You replied, trying to keep your voice neutral. "You look good too."

A small smile appeared on his lips, he probably realized that it was just a polite greeting. A greeting for those who know each other. But you were more than that, right?

You didn't expect to meet him in this pub that evening. It was a strange assumption, because after all, you lived in the same city. However, when you break up with someone, and that breakup was like a hurricane and an earthquake in one, you don't usually try to meet them again soon.

And so it was with you and Frankie. Almost a year ago, maybe a little longer. And now he was standing in front of you. In a clean shirt and dark jeans, in a cap you knew so well. Brown eyes stared at you with the same attentiveness as before. He really looked good. Like he had a good night's sleep, eaten a few solid meals and... was clean.

"Do you come here often?" he asked, he noticed you looking around the crowd of people looking for someone with your eyes. "Um, are you here with someone?"

"With a friend." you replied. "Do you remember Sarah?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I remember. A girls' night out?"

"Something like that. But no, I don't come here often. I don't have much free time."

Frankie smiled, and a part of your brain woke up sending you a signal - you loved his smile so much.

"I always thought you worked too much." he said, winking at you.

"That's not it." you looked down and there was silence for a moment.

You felt embarrassed by his presence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. You had worked through all the bad feelings you had when you broke up, and you actually missed him a little. Did it make sense? You had broken your hearts, but you still missed him. Was it masochistic?

"I've been going to school for a while now. You know, I told you about it. Back in the day..."

Frankie's eyes widened with interest as he remembered what you were talking about. "No, shit! Really? That's great! You've wanted to do this for a long time, so good for you."

A warm feeling crept up the back of your neck, but you smiled widely. "Thank you."

Frankie bit his lip and nodded in appreciation. "I've always thought you were incredibly smart. So that's what's taking up so much of your time now? That and work?"

"Yeah. Sometimes I go days without a proper meal or... I'm sorry, that must bore you."

"No! Go on, darling."

The sweet nickname slipped out of his mouth naturally, and it was even more natural when he took your elbow and led you a little to the side so you could talk in peace. The smell of his cologne filled your nostrils, you knew it so well. Your body began to react with pleasant excitement to his presence.

"And what about you? How's life?" you asked.

Frankie adjusted his cap and let out a breath. "Good. Quite good." he replied. "I changed companies, and now I have really good conditions."

"That's great."

"Yeah, I think so too."

It was late when he got home, but he could feel something was wrong from the very beginning. All the lights were on, and the noises coming from the bedroom were rather unusual.

Damn it, you should be asleep already. He didn't feel like starting another row, and they filled these walls almost every day. However, he dragged himself down the hallway and gently pushed the door open.

Frankie didn't expect this. There was an open suitcase on the bed. He noticed a bundle of your clothes thrown into it in disarray. The drawers in the dresser and the wardrobe were open.

He cleared his throat and took a step, but at the same moment you came out of the bathroom carrying your cosmetics in your hands. You stood there paralyzed when you saw Frankie in the doorway.

Your eyes were swollen from crying, but there was something else in them. Anger and stubbornness, determination.

"What's going on?" he asked in a slightly hoarse voice.

You lifted your chin slightly. "What does this look like?" you asked as well, quickly approaching the bed and throwing your things into the suitcase. With a graceful movement you closed it "I'm leaving. It's over."

A cold shiver ran down his spine. He took a few more steps and put his hands on his hips watching you struggle with the latches.

"Come on..." Frankie began "It's late. Let's talk about this."

You didn't react. Something inside him boiled and he grabbed the handle of the suitcase, dragging it across the bed towards him.

"Leave it!" you hissed, catching it and holding it "I'm not joking, Frankie! I'm leaving! I've had enough!"

"What this time?" he replied a little too loudly "You're making a scene!"

Before the words left his mouth he already knew he had overdone it. Your eyes widened in a second.

You reached into your pants pocket and after a moment you threw something at him. The small bag bounced off his broad chest and fell silently to the carpet. He recognized it immediately.

"I found it in the car. You must have dropped it last time." you growled.

"It's not like that..."

"Bullshit!" Tears welled up in your eyes. "I've been hearing the same lies for months! I know exactly why you got fired! I wanted to help you, and you promised me you'd never... Ohhh!"

You grabbed the handle of your suitcase and pulled it to the ground, then headed for the door. You pushed past him without letting him grab your arm. Frankie had taken you to the edge. You'd been together for almost two years, and you really loved him. But his addiction was becoming more important than you. You asked, you wanted to help.

The therapist you found for him told you that Frankie had only been to see him three times before he stopped showing up at all. He told you that he went there regularly. Then there were the problems at work and he got fired, he started coming home later and later, and when you were looking for something that had fallen on the floor of your car and you found that damn bag - you already knew.

Your heart was breaking with every step, but you knew that Frankie needed shock therapy. You knew you couldn't...

"Frankie!"

You almost reached the door when you suddenly lost ground under your feet. Strong arms wrapped around your waist and Frankie lifted you up. You started kicking your legs.

"Let me go!" you screamed.

"You're not going anywhere! You can't!" he thundered, putting you down and turning to face him "You have to listen to me, it's not like that..."

"Shut up! You've been lying all this time! All this time!"

"Not when I said I loved you, hermosa."

"Oh! Cut this shit! This isn't love!" your face was full of rage, you wanted to hurt him, to stick a needle in him so hard that it would hurt him for a long time "You just needed someone to clean up the mess after you! Someone to pat you on the head and let you do all this! You needed a pussy you could fuck!"

There was silence. Frankie's hands were gripping your shoulders tightly, his eyes darkened.

"You know that's not true." he finally said.

"Yeah? And what of what you're saying is true? Nothing. Zero. I wanted to help you, but you don't care at all." you jerked away "Let me go, Frankie."

"You have to listen to me..."

"Let me go! Now!"

His fingers loosened and you slipped out of his hands. You grabbed your suitcase again and this time you reached the door.

"I love you." his resigned voice reached your ears.

"I'm not so sure about that anymore."

You took a sip of beer while listening to Frankie. He seemed excited about his new job, and the energy that flowed from him was simply positive. His hand would occasionally brush your arm or wrist as you both burst out laughing, his eyes looking at you with the tenderness you knew from the beginning of your acquaintance.

"I guess I'll have to go back now." You sighed, glancing at your phone. "I have classes tomorrow."

"Do you like it?" he asked, watching you text your friend back, informing her that you had to leave.

"What do you mean?" you looked up at him. Frankie shrugged.

"Your life. Now. Because it seems to me that you're different. More fulfilled? Happier?"

"I don't know, I haven't thought about it to be honest."

He nodded, his hand shyly finding yours. "Can I give you a lift home?"

You agreed. Maybe you shouldn't have, maybe it was a mistake. But Frankie had somehow found his way to your heart, and you didn't want to part ways with him yet.

"When you left..." he began as you drove through the empty streets towards your apartment "It hit me. Really hard."

You clenched your fingers, but you couldn't look in his direction. But Frankie clearly wanted to talk, maybe he had been waiting for this for a really long time and could finally get it all off his chest.

"I drank for three days. I don't remember much from that period. Santi showed up at my place and... He told me something I'll never forget."

You could barely recognize your own voice. "What did he say?"

Frankie cleared his throat. "He said it was all my fault. That I was dragging you down, and you were trying to keep us both afloat the whole time. He also said that if I wanted you back, that if I loved you at all, I should do something about it."

Something tightened your throat and your eyes stung from the tears that were seeping into your eyelids. The car turned, you were already close to your apartment.

"I went to therapy. Santi took me there twice a week. It was a terrible time. He had to take my phone because I wanted to call you every day. I don't know how I managed to get through it without you."

"But you did it." You dared to look at him, a weak smile appeared on his face. "I'm so proud of you, Frankie."

"Thank you."

The car stopped. Your journey ended, and you got out, feeling like your legs were almost giving out under you. You whispered a quiet "thank you" and "I'm glad I saw you, Frankie." and then feeling like your heart almost jumped out of your chest, you headed for the door.

"I still love you."

You closed your eyes. His voice was clear, determined. You stopped, feeling like you could fall apart at any moment.

"Frankie..." you whispered, but he wouldn't let you do more.

He was right behind you now, you could feel the heat radiating from him. Your body reacted to his closeness.

"I knew you'd be at this pub today."

You turned around and looked at him, surprised. Frankie seemed embarrassed, but he continued.

"I met Sarah a while ago. We talked..."

He noticed a small frown between your eyebrows, "She didn't tell me anything..."

Frankie shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and shrugged, "I begged her not to tell you. Listen, all this year you were the only thing that kept me alive. I wanted to be clean again, but I also wanted to be able to look you in the eye again. I'm sorry, hermosa... I'm sorry you went through all that with me. It was hell, and you tried so hard to save me."

You couldn't stop the tears that began to flow down your cheeks. You didn't even react when a warm hand touched your cheek and he wiped the tears away with his thumb.

"I still love you, hermosa." Frankie continued. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to stop. But I know I can't expect that from you, not after what I did."

"You hurt me, Frankie..." you sobbed, you saw the pain in his eyes, the same pain you still felt in your heart. "I wanted to save you, I wanted to save us... Maybe I wasn't strong enough?"

"No, it's not like that!" he shook his head, taking your face in both hands. "It wasn't a job for just one person. I understand that now. I'm sorry, I'm sorry I let you down so much."

You instinctively snuggled into his chest. Damn, you missed him so much this year. Almost every day you wondered what was happening to him, or you thought back to the times when everything was fine. There were days when you hated Frankie, when you resented yourself for always having him in your heart. But now you understood - you had to fall apart to understand what was truly important to you.

Frankie stroked your back, repeating silent apologies, and you felt as if all the tension that you had in your body was slowly leaving you.

"You okay?" he asked when you finally pulled away from him, wiping the last tears with your hand and probably completely smudging your mascara.

You nodded, "Yeah. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..."

"Don't apologize, hermosa. You have nothing to apologize for."

There was silence for a moment. But it wasn't an uncomfortable silence, rather one where you were both trying to gather your thoughts. Finally, you were the first to speak.

"I'm so glad you managed to do all this. I'm really proud of you, Frankie. Now... Now your life will be different, better."

"You think so?" he asked, and you looked at him surprised. "I guess you didn't hear what I said earlier. I love you, and I don't know if I'll ever stop. But I know I can't force you to do anything. You listened to me, that's already a lot. Maybe that's all I deserve."

He must have already accepted it, except that he lost you, because before you could answer anything, he slowly moved towards his car. You watched him, feeling your heart pounding in your chest like crazy. You weren't even aware that you had opened your mouth, only the sound of your voice that cut through the silence brought you back to your senses.

"I'm finishing classes tomorrow after three. If you want to go for coffee, or..."

In an instant Frankie turned around "How about for lunch? You'll definitely be hungry, and you said you haven't been eating very well lately."

You smiled and nodded. "Lunch sounds good."

"Wonderful." He smiled too. That damn smile of his.

"So... Are we in touch?"

"Of course, hermosa."

With a slightly calmer heart you disappeared into the building, feeling that the smile didn't leave your face. 

Maybe a second chance really did exist? Maybe you too had a chance for a new beginning...

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[brilliantfantasticgeronimo]

(early) torchwood and facism

[astarlightmonbebe]

petition for kim kwon to stop choosing psycho roles please

[goblin-enjoyer]

I HAVE FIGURED OUT HOW TO DO GIFS!

BEHOLD MY AMAZING POWER AND WEEP FOR WITH PROPER HONEING I WILL BE (potentially) UNSTOPPABLE! NO FUNNIES WILL BE OUT OF MY REACH!

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

I think the reader's response to this post is probably going to either be "That's incredibly minor" or "Holy shit YES I'M ALSO PROUD", depending on people's personal experiences with academia, but:

Today I am incredibly proud of one of my students.

In the interests of disguising identities, let's call them Ceri. Ceri is one of my third year undergrads (meaning their final year, for anyone unfamiliar with UK uni systems.) They transferred to us last year, and within two weeks I was giving them the contact info to get to Student Services and get themself screened for ADHD; they have some mental health struggles, but I clocked pretty quickly that they STRUGGLE with procrastination, and punctuality, and attending 9am lectures in particular. Naturally, as is the way of my people, it took them a further four months to remember to go to the screening. Lol. Lmao. Rofl, in fact.

But, they did it eventually! Their screening lit up like a Christmas tree at the ADHD section, and they got a free laptop and optional one week extensions and a study support worker named Claire. This has helped tremendously, and although mental health + until-then-unsupported ADHD meant their academic profile had slid sideways somewhat, with the new tools available and a couple of resits they passed the year and hit this year running.

Until, that is, the last fortnight.

Now, I take them for a Habitat Management module that has two assessments: an academic poster presentation before Christmas, and a site-specific management plan in May. Naturally this means we are at that happy point in the year for the poster presentations. I give out the briefs at the start of the year, so they've had them since October; I've also been periodically checking in with them all for weeks, to make sure they don't have any major burning questions. The poster presentation was to pick a species reintroduction project, pull the habitat feasibility study out of it, and then critique that study; Ceri chose to look at the hen harrier reintroductions proposed for the southern UK. All good.

Which brings us nicely to today! Ceri's presentation is scheduled for 2.30. At 11am-1pm, I am lecturing the first years on Biodiversity, while Ceri is learning about environmental impact assessment with a colleague I shall call Aeron. This means we are separately occupied during those same hours.

Nevertheless, Aeron messages me at about 12.

"I think Ceri needs to see you after your lecture," he writes. "They're panicking, I genuinely think they might cry. I'm worried. Are you free at 1?"

I say I am. At 1, I get lunch and sit in the common area; Ceri comes to see me. To my personal shame, imagine all of the following takes place while I stuff my face with potato.

Now: this part is going to be uncomfortably familiar to anyone who has ever tried higher education with ADHD, especially unmedicated. It certainly was for me. All I can say is, I never had the courage to take the step here that Ceri did.

"I have to confess," they said quietly, and Aeron was right, they were fighting back tears. "My mental health has been so, so bad for the last fortnight. I've left it way, way too late. I don't have anything to present."

"Nothing at all?" I asked.

"I've been researching," they said helplessly. "I found loads on the decline of the hen harrier. But it wasn't until last night that I finally found a habitat feasibility study to critique. Generally... I've been burying my head about it, and it just got later and later. I thought I should come in for Aeron's lecture, and I should at least tell you."

This part is a minor thing, right? But honestly, I remember being in the grip of that particular shame spiral. I never did manage to tell my lecturers to their faces. I just avoided. I honestly can't imagine having the courage it took them to come in and tell me this, rather than just staying home and avoiding me.

"I think..." they said hesitantly, "I know I can submit up to a week late, for a capped mark. I think I need to do that, and apply for extenuating circumstances. But then I'll have both Aeron's assignment and yours due at the same time."

Which meant they would crumble under the pressure and likely struggle to pass both; so me, being as noble and heroic as I unarguably am, stopped eating potato and said, "Let's make that plan B."

(It was good potato. I am a hero.)

So, we made plan A: I moved their timeslot to 4.30, giving them three and a half hours. The shining piece of luck in this whole thing was that this was the crunch time assignment - if it had been Aeron's, they'd have had to try and write a 3000 report in that time. But for me, all they had to write was an academic poster, and those things are light on words by design. We found them a Canva template, and then we quickly sketched out a recommended structure based on the brief: if it's habitat feasibility, look at food availability, nesting site availability, and mortality risks in the target release site. Bullet point each. Bullet point how well the study assessed each. Write a quick intro and conclusion. Take notes as you go, and present the poster itself at 4.30.

"You think I should try?" they asked doubtfully, looking like I'd just asked them to go mano-a-mano with a feral badger.

"If you run out of time, so be it," I said. "But your brain is trying to protect you from a non-existent tiger. That's why you've procrastinated - it's been horrible, and you've been shame spiralling, and your brain is trying to shield you from the negative experience; but it's the wrong type of help for this situation! So while you're sitting there working on it, hating life, every time your brain goes 'This is hopeless, I can't do it', you think right back 'Yes I can, it just sucks.' And you carry on. Good?"

"Good," they said. "I'm going to mainline coffee and hole up in the library. Enjoy your potato."

And then, of course, I had to go and watch the other students' presentations, so that was the end of me being any help at all. I spent all afternoon wondering if they were going to manage it, or if I would be getting a message at 4.25 telling me they'd failed, and would have to submit late and hope for an EC.

And Tumblrs

Tumblrs

Let me FUCKING tell you

They turned up at 4.15, fifteen minutes early, wearing a mask of grim, harrowed determination and fuelled by spite and coffee, and they pulled up that poster and started presenting and yes, okay, I'll admit their actual delivery was dramatically unpolished and yes, they forgot to include the taxanomic name for the hen harrier on the poster and yes, fine, I admit that there were more than a few awkward moments where they lost their place in their hastily scribbled notebook but LET ME FUCKING TELL YOU -

They smashed it. It was well-critiqued, it had a map, it had full citations, it had a section on the hen harrier's specific ecology and role in the ecosystem, it had notes on their specific conservation measures. They described case studies they'd read about elsewhere. They answered the questions we threw at them with competence and depth. There was analysis. All that background research they'd done came right to the fore. They were even within the time limit by 15 seconds.

You would never have known they'd produced it in three hours, from a quivering and terrified mess fighting the bodily urge to dehydrate via tear ducts. After they left, the second marker and I looked at each other and went "So that was a 2:1, right?"

I caught up with Aeron downstairs and he was beaming. Apparently Ceri had seen him on their way out, and had gone over to talk to him. Aeron said the difference between the Ceri of this morning and the Ceri of then was like two different people; in four hours, they'd gone from their voice literally breaking as they admitted the problem, ashamed and broken, to being relaxed and happy and smiling.

"I reckon I've passed," they apparently told Aeron, pleased. "Maybe even a 2:2. There's things I wish I'd had the time to do better, but I'll be happy if I passed."

They won't know until late January what they got, because we're not allowed to release marks until 20 term days after hand-in, and the Christmas holidays are about to hit. But I'm really hoping I can be there when they're released.

But mostly, I'm just... insanely proud of them. I cannot tell you how happy I am. And I know, I know, obviously this is not a practice I would want to see them do regularly, or indeed ever again, and it only worked because they were fucking lucky with the assignment format, but like... when life is just punching you in the face, and you hit a breaking point... isn't it nice? That just this once, you pull off a miracle, and it's fixed? The disaster you thought was about to ruin you is gone? To get that relief?

Anyway. Super super proud today.

[malum-forev]

More Than Casual?

Summary: After breaking up with Bucky, you thought you'd never see him again. That is, until you're required to make an appearance at one of the future congressman's events.

Part 1: Casual

CAABNW!Bucky x Agent!ExWidow!Reader

“You ready for the event?” Joaquin asks you as he throws a punch. 

“What event?” You huff, dodging the right hook. 

“Everyone on Cap’s team gets an invite to the White House.” He covers his guard. 

“Less talking, more punching!” Isaiah yells from the other side of his training room. 

You’d heard about the event being held at the White House but you decided to turn off the TV the second those familiar blue eyes were displayed. It was too early to see the man who still made you shiver. 

“Not going.” Is all you say, throwing him a rogue kick with more force than necessary. 

“You’re missing out on the event of the year for what? Ordering in pizza?” He laughs, but you take the opportunity to kick the center of his chest, making Joaquin fly across the room. 

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Isaiah hollers. 

You help your partner up. “What if I have plans?”

“Plans?” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Are you finally opening your heart to love?”

You roll your eyes, but your heart sinks a little. You’d successfully gone weeks without thinking of him and now, with just a couple of words, he’s back in your mind. Pulling at your heartstrings so tightly it makes your chest cave in.

It wasn’t Joaquin’s fault, he had no idea that the man who’s being honored at the event is the same person who tore your heart to shreds. 

“I just don’t feel like going,” you manage to get out. “I much prefer to fight and protect, rather than prance and drink.”

——

“What’s this I hear about you not going to the gala?” Sam casually says a few days later. 

You choke on the water you’re drinking. 

“That serious, huh?” Sam jokes. 

You shake your head. “Doesn’t sound like something that I’d be interested in.”

Your words are careful and strategic. But trying to think of the perfect excuse while your team leader looks at you so inquisitively is almost impossible. 

“I’d be nice,” he shrugs. “To go out and support Buck.”

The nickname sends a chill down your spine. 

You called him that same name for years, especially when you wanted to tease him. In front of others you’d always referred to him as Sergeant. But in close encounters, especially when you wanted him to plead for something, you’d call him just that. Buck. 

It never failed to make you think back to when he was a kid. You’d beg him to see pictures, you knew he had a couple printed out after the rediscovery of the Howling Commandos files. 

“You’re looking at the best version of me there is, doll.” He’d always say. “No need to dwell on the past.”

But you knew it was because part of him was always scared to look back. It made him remember he had a life before all of this happened. 

“I’m busy that day.” You mutter, picking up the report on the desk. 

Sam crosses his arms. “I haven’t even told you when it is.”

You stop in your tracks. 

“Is there something else that’s bothering you?” Sam asks carefully. He knows perfectly how to deal with guarded agents. “You can tell me anything, you know that, right?”

You hum.

“So, I hope to see you there, Agent.” Sam narrows his eyes. He doesn’t need to use the words for you to know it’s an order. 

You nod your head without another word, leaving the conference room before your anxiety rises more through your body.

——

“You’re pretty amped up for someone who didn’t even want to come!” Sam yells over the loud music playing inside the limo sent for you. 

You don’t look back at him as you tip the vodka bottle, letting the clear liquid coat your throat.

On any other day, vodka wouldn’t be your liquor or choice but today, you need all the courage I can get. And in terms of fucking you up the fastest, vodka is the way to go. 

You can barely feel your heel poking your foot by the time you step out. 

Your eyes inadvertently scan every square inch of the room, not looking for anything suspicious but looking for the man who you’ve been dreading seeing. 

It’s bad enough his posters are up on every lamp post.

You make a beeline towards the free bar cart, Joaquin hot on your heels. 

“Sam sent me over to babysit you,” he leans on the edge of the cart. “You look like you’re having fun.”

“Oh, yeah,” you say sarcastically, sipping on the martini the bartender set for you. “I’m having a blast.”

Both your eyes travel down to the napkin the bartender passes you, his ten-digit phone number neatly scribbled on the paper. 

You turn it over without looking at him.

“What happened to opening up your heart to love?” Joaquin whispers, looking back at the bartender. 

“I don’t have time for love.” You mutter, swirling the olives in your drink. 

He twists the cap on a water bottle before passing it to you. “You’ll never have time for love, if you don’t make time for love.”

“Who died and made you the team’s hopeless romantic?” You eye him. 

“Steve.” He shrugs. 

Joaquin goes on and on about love but you can’t hear him anymore. Because the second you look over to the other side of the room, there he is. 

Time stands still, and your legs threaten to give out.

Bucky’s changed so much since the day you said goodbye forever. His eyes have dulled, turning into a muted blue like the sky on a rainy day. His hair looks polished, but you know better than anyone else he hates how it feels. “I love it when you run your hands through it,” he used to murmur against your lips. “Makes me feel free.” But most importantly, his expression lacks that liveliness it used to have. The wrinkles near his eyes would deepen the second his lips would stretch into a smile. And it almost always came with a: “You have no idea how much I missed you, Doll.” 

Unsaid words stretch between you two. Your eyes say all the talking needed. 

Bucky’s eyes travel from yours, down to your left hand, where you’d always wear a vibranium bracelet that he’d gifted you. It had pieces of his old arm in it. Bucky used to say that after The Winter Soldier, he wanted nothing to do with him. Until he met you. He liked when you wore it because it reminded him that even with his past, he could still deserve someone as loving as you. 

You rub the spot where the bracelet used to lay. 

“You don’t deserve me anymore,” you whisper. 

“D’you say something?” Joaquin looks up at you.

You shake your head, ripping your eyes away from the man who caused you unspeakable hurt. But not before noticing how his expression hardened as he looked at the man standing next to you. 

You recognized it immediately. It’s Bucky’s signature: I want to rip your head off look.

And it had everything to do with the way Joaquin was rubbing your shoulder. 

“Torres, we’re friends, right?” Your eyes bounce from Bucky’s azure to your partner’s brown. 

“Yeah,” he eyes you suspiciously. 

“Could you pretend to be my boyfriend?” You get out before you can regret the words. 

Was it immature? Yes. 

Did you want Bucky to feel at least one ounce of the hurt you felt? Also yes. 

“Why?” Joaquin’s eyebrows furrow. 

“I hate these events because, as you can see,” you flip over the napkin with the bartender’s number on it. “Men always get the wrong idea. So, can you just act like you’re my boyfriend?”

“Is this some kind of test Sam put you up to?”

You pinch your lips together. “Sure.”

“Man! I’ve been waiting for an undercover mission,” he shimmies happily. 

“But you have to pretend with everyone, okay?” You look back at the future congressman who’s making his way towards the two of you. “And make it believable.”

Joaquin smooths down his lapels. “You got it.”

Not even ten seconds later, Bucky stands between you and Joaquin with a scowl on his face.

"Agents." He looks at both of you like he's done so many times. But now, his gaze holds Joaquin's for a second longer.

"Congratulations." You raise your glass to him.

"I haven't won, yet." He doesn't look away from the brunet to your side.

"By the looks of it, you're going to sweep the floor with all the other old bozos around here." Joaquin smiles, playfully shoving the super soldier's shoulder but he doesn't budge. Not one bit.

"Could I take her away from you, it'll only be a second." Bucky asks like you're Joaquin's property.

You roll your eyes. "You don't have to ask him."

"As your boyfriend," Joaquin not-so-subtly raises his eyebrows at you. "I approve of your parting."

"We're not in the regency era you doofus." You whisper as Bucky leads the way.

"I haven't been anyone's boyfriend in a long time! I don't know how to act!" He whispers back, throwing his hands up.

"What are you doing here?" Bucky asks the second you're away from everybody else.

"Trust me, I didn't want to be here." You let out a dry laugh, pulling a cigarette from your bag and lighting it up.

"I mean, what are you doing here with him?" Bucky narrows his eyes toward your partner. "What's this? A debutant ball for your new relationship?"

"Why would you care, anyways?" You take a drag, liking the way the smoke coats your mouth.

"I don't care-I-I just-" Bucky runs a hand down his face.

"Look James," You watch as his PR guy paces around the ballroom, looking for the man who is standing in front of you. "It's best if you go back inside."

"I can't." He looks down at the floor. "I can't just leave you out here smoking alone."

A genuine laugh rips through you.

"That's the promise you're keeping up?" You raise your brows, laughing harder as his expression tightens. "Out of all the promises you made me, that's the one you're going with."

"This isn't-" He tries but you interrupt him.

"Tell me what this is?" You push for him to spill what you know is on the tip of his tongue. "What? Was this summon a friendly one? Or did you want to bring me out here just so you could see if you still had it? That power you had over me."

"N-no." He stutters over his words.

"I'm happy now, James." You let out more smoke. "And it's killing you to know that."

"I just don't know how you did it!" He finally snaps. "You come here, looking amazing like always, with another man next to you. Acting like what we had was-"

"What we had was casual." You repeat the words he said. "Nothing more."

"Was it?" His blue eyes lock into yours, tumultuous like the sea.

"Yes." You lie.

"Then why do I feel like this?" He runs a hand through his hair, messing up his perfectly combed hair.

"I don't care, Barnes." You drop the end of your cigarette on the floor. Bucky lifts his foot to step on it, just like he'd done a million times before, only for you to do it first.

You turn on your heel but Bucky stops you.

"Whatever we had is in the past, and I intend on keeping it that way." You look at him over your shoulder, hating the way his gaze still makes your heart squeeze and his touch makes your skin heat.

"I should leave, Congressman." You say through gritted teeth. "Wouldn't want to give the wrong impression to all the voters around here. "

Authors Note: Hiiiihi! Thank you so much for the love on pt. 1! As always make sure to like and comment. Alsoooo I posted the first chapter of my book, it's on my page. I'd love it if you guys could give it a read. And if you'd like to support me, make sure to give me a follow on my ig and tiktok: @sophiabazar_author, I'll be posting all book related content on there! I'll be posting chapter 2 soon! If you'd like a part 3 to casual make sure to comment!

Tagged: @erinallene @the-bucky-one @unaxv @kodzukenie333 @g1g1l @hanacheryl @ironwinnerwonderland

[hurtspideyparker]

Part 3 of if Civil War didn't end in divorce and everyone lived together

Part 1 Part 2

-

Mission debrief:

Thor: Don't feel bad Banner, I mean is there anyone at this table who hasn't killed somebody?

Peter: *slowly raises hand*

Natasha: Don't worry you're still young

Peter: 😟

-

Steve: Has anyone seen my shield?

Clint: *points outside*

*Peter, Thor, and Bucky playing frisbee with it*

Steve: I guess I'm not saving those orphans today :/

-

Clint: Tony I said seedless watermelon, are you trying to kill me?

Tony: You're a big boy, you aren't gonna choke

Clint: No but it might... grow

Tony: Oh please don't tell me you still think watermelon seeds grow inside your stomach if you swallow them

Clint:

Pietro: Bro got a licence to kill but still has a Jack and the Beanstock level of education

-

2:34 am

Tony: *leaving Steve's bedroom*

Sam: *leaving Bucky's bedroom*

Tony:

Sam:

Tony: Let's never speak of this?

Sam: Yep.

-

Steve: Tony, you're the smartest person I know. You understand anything you set out to study, your passion is remarkable, innovation beyond anyone on the planet, and an incredible memory

Tony: Thank you thank you

Steve: So why do you STILL NOT CLOSE THE KITCHEN CABINETS

Tony: Uh

Steve: SOME OF US ARE TALL TONY. SOME OF US HAVE BRUISES ON THEIR FOREHEADS BECAUSE OF THIS NEGLIGENCE

-

Tony: Goodnight kid *tucks Peter into bed and kisses his forehead*

*Clint, Vision, Thor, and Dum-E waiting outside the room*

Tony: Oh come on. All of you?

*nodding*

Tony: Vision you don't even sleep. Dum-E I am not kissing you again you gave me chemical burns last time

Dum-E: *lowers head and whirs sadly*

-

Bucky: Don't sit so close to me

Sam: Why, cause I'm black 🤨

Bucky: No because you smell like ass sweat

Sam:

Sam: Why, cause I'm bl-

-

During training:

Natasha: *flips Steve and slams him onto his back*

Peter: Woah! I wanna know how to do that

Natasha: *flips Peter and slams him onto his back*

Natasha: Seems like you already know how

-

Tony: Okay Merida, you and me, darts for a hundred bucks. My suit vs. your freak self

Clint: I'll take that bet

*7 minutes later*

Tony: I have advanced AI targetting technology. SUPER. SUIT. How did I lose?!

Clint: It can do a lot of things Tony but at the end of the day it can't super suck this di-

-

Bucky: Sam's in medical so I'll do the mission debrief with you

Natasha: That was fast, I thought you'd still be coddling your boyfriend the rest of the day

Bucky: What. How do you know about us.

Natasha: I don't, it was a joke...

Bucky:

Natasha:

Bucky: Damn you really are good at interrogation

-

Bruce: I've taken up puzzles as a hobby. It's actually really relaxing

*Box is missing the last piece*

Bruce: *sighs, erases the 61 under the 'Days Without Hulk Incident' sign*

-

Natasha: Kings

Bucky: Go fish. Sevens?

Natasha: Nada. Fives?

Bucky: Shit. Here

Sam: I thought y'all were playing poker, are you for real playing Go Fish?

Natasha: Our pockets got cleaned out so we quit. The poker game is over by Steve

Peter: HAHA SUCK IT OLD MAN, AMERICA JUST WENT BANKRUPT *pulls giant pile of animal crackers to himself*

-

Steve: Do you want to play catch?

Wanda: What?

Steve: Um. Do you want to watch Hannah Montana?

Wanda: I don't even know what you're talking about

Steve: Maybe I could show you how to brush your teeth?

Wanda: Steve you're really scaring me

Steve: The article said to do it together! *shows phone*

Wanda: Are you getting parenting advice from wikihow? Did you even read it or were you just skimming the pictures

Steve: ...Well why'd they put toothbrushing in the photo if it wasn't a good bonding activity?

-

Sam: Why are your titties so bouncy man. Is it to deflect bullets?

Steve: What did you just say about my chest...

Sam: Hey I call em as I see em, and they're staring right at me.

-

Peter: Yo Mr. Stark wanna see a backflip?

Peter: Oh Cap come see my front handsprings

Peter: Natasha watch this aerial cartwheel!

Tony: Why did you tell him you were in the circus. Now that the idea's in his head all he does is jump around and cause noise complaints from downstairs

Clint: C'mon it's cute! He's talented

Bucky: I'm gonna tell him it doesn't count because he has superpowers and that he's a cheat

Tony: But that'll ruin his confidence

Bucky: God I hope so

[chxrryhansen]

okay but rafe shamelessly peeking up your skirt is something so personal to me

omg omg wait s1 golf frat boy rafe x cutesy kinda bimbo reader??? COUNT ME IN. p.s- i have no idea how to play golf so i wrote my best interpretation😭

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

you sat in rafes private golf caddy watching as he lined up his next shot, his backwards cap keeping his hair out of his eyes and his muscular legs spread wide as he takes the shot.

rafe had asked (told) you to come watch him play, he thought it would be a cute date idea for you both to get out of the house since it was way too hot to stay cooped up inside all day… when in reality he just wanted to show off his skills and impress his girl.

“rafeeeeey.” you whined in a high pitch tone.

he turns to look back at you with a sour expression, wiping the sweat from his brows with one arm, using the other to lean against his golf club. “quit distracting me. what dya’ want?” he pants in the summer heat.

“i’m boreddddd” you moan again, standing from your seat in the cabby and bouncing over to him.

his free hand reaches out to grip your face, smushing your cheeks together tight “what’ve i told you about the whining? daddy’s tryna’ play a game here, sweetcheeks.”

you look up at him with big puppy dog eyes “can you teach me? please rafey…i’m so bored just sittin’ here, daddy please.”

he lets out an irritated groan, knowing you were too ditzy to understand how golf works and way too uncoordinated to actually putt a ball. he looks back at you giving you a once over, a smirk appearing on his face.

“you know what? sure pretty girl, c’mere.”

you yelp with excitement, moving to stand infront of him, your short pink skirt barely reaching your thighs as you bounce over and your tits jiggling, practically spilling out of your tight shirt.

rafe stands behind you as he passes you the golf club, quickly showing you the correct way to hold it before he moves onto your position. kicking your feet apart and pressing down on your back with his thick fingers, forcing you to arch your back as he bites his lip, his cock already growing hard.

“that’s it baby, stay just like that. now, lift your arm up like this, and strike.” you beam at him while he instructs you before focusing on the ball.

you raise your arm holding the club tight before you strike it. not even noticing rafe bending down slightly, his legs still spread wide around your figure and his fingers lifting your short skirt, peeking at your cute, pink panties underneath, he lets out a low “fuckkk.” at the sight, not loud enough for you to notice seeming as you were concentrating.

“rafey! look! i hit it. look how far it went!” you gasp, raising one arm to block the sun as you search for the ball with your eyes.

“yeah babe, daddy’s super proud of you.” he mutters, not paying attention to a word you said, instead focusing on the slightly damp patch on your panties.

he brings his thumb to your pussy, rubbing over the soaked material. your panties beginning to stick to your cunt as he thumbs your sensitive slit.

you whimper in surprise, your head spinning to look at him in shock. “daddy! wh-what are you doing?!” you hush, eyes wide, looking around quickly to see if anybody had noticed what he was doing, which they hadn’t… yet.

rafe hushes you before pulling your skirt back down and giving your ass a harsh smack. lifting up from his bent knees and looking down at you with a large smirk.

“nice panties, baby. where’d you get em?” he asks rhetorically, a sly smile appearing on his face.

knowing for a fine fact he bought them, as he does everything else, your clothes, food, shoes. you name it, he bought it. because that’s what wealthy daddy’s like him do. and rafe is without question, wholeheartedly, your daddy.

[colossrat]

Batman: Captain, you're hurt. Is there someone you want to get in touch with?

Well… Vic (cyborg) is already there, Barry and Diana too… who else is he friends with?

Constantine? Yes, but John doesn't like the league and will give him a hell of a lecture for getting hurt…

Harley? poison ivy? Batman wouldn't like to know they were friends. two-faces? oh- absolutely not.

Captain cold? No. Snart knows Billy, not Cap. And Batman wouldn't like that either. Maybe Barry would like…?

Freddy and Mary are probably sleeping right now…

Marvel: Can you… can you call the Fawcett zoo, sir? I have a friend who works there… I'd really like to see him right now. and say that I'm fine.

Bat makes the call, Billy asks for the phone and they chat for a while

Marvel on the phone: Oh, no, no… I'm high right now- Noo! its cus im right above the sky-- I'm fine, just space... But I think I'm also high on morphine yea, some opioids yes… no? Oh, I would love to! Yes. Uhm. The one next to… yes-- I know- i know you know, and you know, I know you know! Stop fishing. Yes, waits waits, buh-bye!! I'll see you soon. mwaaah and he gives the phone back to batman Marvel: Hey? Boss? My friend is coming to bring me some tea that I like, kay? to make me feel better. Don't be rude to him, he's called mister tawky tawny. Just stay cool, okay? Be cool…

And he drops his head on the pillow and falls asleep, snoring loudly

Nobody understands a thing and from what Batman researches, Tawky Tawny is a tiger from the zoo, and they think the captain was just delirious on morphine But not five minutes later, a bipedal tiger in a suit arrives at the watchtower via the Zeta Tubs using the captain's credentials. he carries a little madam's bag that is carrying a tea kit and some biscuits

Tawny presents himself as the gentleman he is with an education that would make Alfred blush, but he doesn't allow anyone to slow him down. He goes straight to the room where the captain is, because he can smell him maybe? The league doesn’t know for sure.

There, he takes a small table and a portable OVEN from Madame's tiny ass little bag and begins to make tea. to. make. tea. The second Tawny opens the cookie jar, Marvel wakes up to the sound and smell and starts crying with joy at seeing his best friend and familiar

he introduces him to the whole league while drinking tea and stuffing his mouth with cookies, fat tears streaming down his face and tawny just enjoys his friend's company and takes care of him, but he doesn't avoid giving a dirty look to anyone who decides to judge their friendship

Tawny, pretending to be hurt: I'm surprised by your surprise. Don't you talk about me, cap?

Marvel, afraid that he hurt the tiger's feelings: I do!!! I talk about u all the time, all the time!!! they know you are my best friend!!!

Superman: it's true! he speaks a lot and very highly of you, we just--

Barry: we thought you were crazy, bro! Tim was hacking the watchtower cameras at that time by coincidence, so in a matter of minutes Damian would be running there to see the bipedal tiger and ask to pet him and tell him everything he knows about tigers

[criminalamnesia]

Not a request but NEW TRAITOR CHAP WHEN??? prioritize urself no rush Pookie just the ppl gotta know

part 7 is here 🙏

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

it was pouring rain as you slid from the taxi, the driver attempting to yell at you to shut the door as thunder rumbled overhead.

you paid him no heed; boots splashed in murky puddles as you pushed the door closed and moved towards the yellow cab’s trunk.

you could barely hear yourself think. the rain was battering the ground as if locked in a viscous war with the cracked pavement— puddles forming as the asphalt resisted with all its might. it wasn’t enough, water seeping into the ground and muddying the grass nearby, drowning it mercilessly.

you grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder before shutting the trunk. you’d barely stepped back from the car before it was speeding off, kicking up water and splashing your legs.

you didn’t mind— you were soaked through to the bone, anyways. besides, you didn’t mind the storm. it was comfort— a distraction from what lay ahead.

your new team. a small, covert operations group made up of the best of the best. two sergeants, a lieutenant, a captain— and they wanted one more soldier.

the opening couldn’t have come at a better time. you’d run your course with your old squad. they’d been fine— until they weren’t. carelessness and ignorance from teammates almost resulted in your untimely death, and laswell hadn’t questioned your transfer request after hearing the tale.

in fact, she’d recommended the one-four-one to you.

you thought you’d be meeting them on base, but the captain had requested you meet them here, instead. a run-down old diner, with its bright, neon pink sign blinking down at you through the rain.

you inhaled, then exhaled. clenched your fists, then unclenched them. it was a habit you’d had since you were a child. it forced you to slow down and think, to overcome the emotions you were lost in.

you blinked. rain ran down your face, creating false tears as it streamed from the corners of your eyes. you were sure you looked a sight.

another inhale, another exhale, and then you moved towards the diner’s door. you pushed it open, stepping inside and wiping your boots on the mat in front of the door.

“I think you’re gonna need to do more than that to dry off, sweetheart” a woman’s voice calls to you, causing you to look up towards the counter. she’s grimacing, looking you up and down. no doubt she’ll be following your path through the building with a mop in hand.

“sorry,” you tell her, trying to brush some water from your jacket. “forgot my umbrella.”

the woman gave a huff, waving her hand before turning and attending to an ancient-looking coffee maker.

you take the time to glance around the diner then, noting the substantial lack of customers. only two booths were occupied, one containing a young couple tangled in each other’s arms, and the other containing a man wearing a baseball cap with the UK flag patched on it.

he looked up from his phone as you approached, seemingly unsurprised based on the grin he gave you.

“glad to see you got here in one piece,” he says as you shrug off your bag, placing it on the floor as you slide into the seat across from him.

“one drenched piece,” you say, and he gives a small chuckle.

“im kyle,” the man tells you. “don’t know what laswell told you,” he clicks off his phone and places it on the table. “but im one of the sergeants.”

you nod. “callsign ‘gaz,’ right?”

he gives a nod of his own. his phone buzzes, the screen lighting up. his eyes glance down, scan the message, then meet yours once more.

“rest of the team got held up. price is in a meeting. johnny and ghost are on assignment, but they’re due back any day now.”

“so you’re the welcome committee by default, huh?” you say, and he laughs.

“guess i am. have i scared you off yet?”

“dunno,” you tell him. “but laswell sings your praises. the captain’s, especially.”

“she sings yours, too.” kyle says.

you give a small nod, your mind racing at what laswell may have told the task force. you weren’t bad at your job— you were great at it. a great shot, a reliable solider, a tireless sentry.

your emotions got the better of you at times, that was all. attachments and bonds that formed, linking you and your fellow soldiers together in the web of warfare. tying you around the wrist and dragging you along, for better or worse. little siblings or lovers evolving from what once had been just another set of boots on the ground.

this job was all you had. you found family where you had too, and it made you all the more loyal. but when you were spurned? when the fire leapt from the pit and scorched your skin?

you weren’t quick to forgive, and you found that reasonable in this line of work. mistakes by teammates could get you killed. who could blame you for holding a grudge against an ally who had almost cost you your life?

it’s why you were here now. a new start with a new team— a team of the best, you included.

kyle’s phone buzzes again. he picks it up, the screen illuminating his face as the lights flicker overhead. the storm wasn’t letting up.

“cap’s on his way— says he’ll be here in less than 30.”

“price, right?” you recall his name. kyle nods.

“don’t tell him I told you,” he leans in, a mischievous look in his eyes, “but he’s been lookin’ forward to meeting you. maybe even more than johnny has.”

“why’s that?”

“said the one-four-one is overdue for someone else who can kick johnny’s ass. wants you to knock him down a few more pegs.”

you laugh at that, giving a small shake of your head. kyle’s lips curl into a smile. “nah, he’s just happy to have some more hands on deck. always helps to have another person that’ll watch your back.”

as kyle starts talking again, you find your nerves settling.

maybe this team could be your new family.

you looked down at your hands, noting the slight shake of them. you don’t think they’d been steady since before everything happened.

your eyes glance to the ugly, scarred stump of the finger you’d lost. simon hadn’t chopped it off prettily, and it’d been stitched up hastily. you couldn’t blame the doctor, there had been more pressing injuries to attend to.

such as the bone-deep cut to one leg, growing infected from your time spent in the chair. the scar was long, stretching from the top of your thigh to your knee. it was still pink, a sign of your body still trying to put itself back together.

your torso wasn’t much better. jagged scars and puckered knots of skin marred your image. both from before and from after.

your eyes met your own in the mirror. you barely recognized yourself. the anger within you still burned, but its flame had reduced to a simmer. exhaustion, apathy, and shame had taken its place.

perhaps that was a good thing. it saved you the energy of fighting the men you inevitably saw every day. despite your numerous pleas and demands for them to simply leave you alone, they seemed to have a hard time listening. it made you want to scream. to hurt them, digging your fingers into skin until they understood the pain behind your words.

a knock sounded at the door. you didn’t move.

a knock again. you could hear the shuffle of feet outside the door. you wished whoever it was would leave you be.

another knock, accompanied by the soft timbre of kyle’s voice.

“love, you alright in there?” he was saying. you still stood before the mirror.

things had been different since you attacked the doctor. it had only been a few days, but word spread quickly through base. if people had avoided you before, you were like the plague now.

and the shame you felt was insurmountable. the pain and regret and fury were building like a tidal wave in your stomach, rising and choking the air from your lungs.

you wanted to leave this place. get away from the men you once called family, the one you once called yours.

but leaving meant the end of your career. you just had to hold out until kate arranged your transfer, that’s all. just a few more days, right?

and then this place and these people wouldn’t be a constant reminder of what had happened to you. of what it had done to you, physically and mentally.

“go, kyle,” you called out to him, breaking from your trance as you reached for the scratchy robe johnny had gifted you one christmas.

“not until i see you breathin’, love.”

you sigh, tying the robe shut and hugging the material to your body. you moved to the door, turning the lock before inching it open.

“breathing,” you tell him, watching as his eyes flick away from yours. god, it made you want to strangle him.

to yell at him, to yell at all of them— "you did this, and you should be able to look me in the eyes and see it.”

“now go.”

he looks at you again, eyebrows furrowed in worry. “will you let me in?” he asks, and you scoff as you move to slam the door.

“fuck off, kyle.”

but he’s quick, and his hand shoots out, grasping the door’s wooden edge and keeping it from closing.

“we need to talk.”

“whatever you need to say, you can say it from there,” you tell him, and he pauses for a minute before he nods.

“doc is asking about you again. she’s up and runnin’ around. said she wants to see you.”

your lips press into a thin line. you didn’t deserve that woman’s kindness, not after what you’d done to her.

you hadn’t been in your right mind, but that didn’t excuse it. you had bloodied your fists; harmed an innocent in the war between you and your own mind.

you didn’t want to see her still worrying about you when you had assured her you were fine. you had left her supervision, and then you’d attacked her. and you hadn’t stopped until simon had pulled you away.

you would’ve killed her, you know that in your heart. you would’ve killed her, thinking she was one of the men who had wanted to kill you.

“tell her im fine,” you said, your hand tightening around the door’s knob.

“i think she’d rather see that for herself,” he says.

“im fine,” you repeat. “i’ll be out of everyone’s hair in a few days, anyways.”

kyle’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “you’re leaving?”

he knew this, they all did. perhaps they just didn’t truly believe it. all of them, every single one, still thought you’d turn around and run back into their arms.

bastards.

“as soon as laswell gives the word,” you reply. “should be soon.”

kyle doesn’t speak. he’s obviously biting his tongue— you’d seen the expression that was on his face enough to know when he was holding back, but you didn’t prod like you would’ve before.

let him keep his secrets, lies, promises, and sorries. you didn’t need them anymore.

“don’t bother me again,” you said before shutting the door in his face.

you hear him sigh on the other side of the wood, then hear the retreat of his steps. you turn back to the mirror, snarl, and grab the alarm clock from your nightstand.

you throw it into the glass, shattering it to pieces. seven years of bad luck, you think.

well, it couldn’t get much worse, could it?

kyle sighs, staring at your door for a second longer before turning away. simon looks down at him from where he was leaning against the wall, hidden from your view, his muscled arms crossed over his chest.

“surprised?” simon asks as the two of them retreat down the hallway. he makes sure they’re far enough from your door before speaking, so that you won’t hear his voice.

“we knew it was happening, price said as much after that whole thing with johnny,” kyle replies, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. “just thought this might change things.”

“change ‘em how?” simon says. “if anythin’, this speeds it up. they’re a liability now.”

“they’re hurt, ghost,” kyle retorts, his eyes meeting his superior’s. “that’s ptsd. not everyone’s as forgiving as the doc. they attack someone outside and that’s a fucking felony.”

“that’s not our problem, sergeant,” comes simon’s baritone reply, and kyle stops.

“you’re a fuckin’ case yourself, y’know that, LT?” he says, and simon stops. “we all played a part,” kyle continues. “but you? you would’ve killed ‘em if we never knew the truth. i know you would’ve. i’ve seen you do it.”

the men stare at each other. simon’s expression is hidden underneath his balaclava, but kyle knows it’s unreadable regardless.

mean, old ghost. heartless bastard, loyal to the mission only. that’s what the others around base whispered to each other.

kyle had seen proof to the contrary. yes, simon was loyal to the mission. but he was also loyal to his team, his family. you.

he was loyal to you.

“watch yourself, sergeant,” simon speaks, his voice a dangerous rumble.

kyle scoffs and walks off, shaking his head.

simon watches him go, his breath steady.

kyle didn’t understand him, not really. not the way you had begun to. and that was his own fault, he knows it. forever holding those close to him at arms length for fear of the worst.

he’d let you in— let you invade that space he enforced so ruthlessly. and the worst had happened.

kyle doesn’t know this is tearing him in half; none of the team does. they don’t understand that simon wants you to stay because you’re you, but he wants you gone because he can see how this is killing you.

even when he’s the villain in your story, he’s still trying to look out for you— in his own, twisted way.

he doesn’t regret it. that is cemented in his mind. but as he grapples with his own emotions, his mind in its own turmoil, he knows he wants you to be okay.

“im sorry,” he had spoken to deaf ears.

sorry for the ripping apart of your life, but not sorry for what he had done.

deep down, he knew you would never forgive them. he knew that leaving this team would be the best thing for you.

he knew, he knew, he knew.

knowing and accepting are two different things.

hope this was worth the wait! i think the next part will be the end, unless my idea changes 👀

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

"I'm Taking That As A Yes, Princess"

PAIRINGS: Ghostface!FratPresident!James "Bucky" Barnes x Reader

WARNINGS: Getting alcohol spilt on you, fingering, a bit angsty? (if you squint), semi-bathroom sex, swering, unprotected sex (darlings, please wrap your man's pig in a blanket), p in v, mentions of cum, handjob, a slight hint of a blowjob and slight fluff? (If I have missed anything, please feel free to let me know 😊)

WORD COUNT: 2,922

*not proof-read*

ENJOY!

Walking into the house, you were immediately surrounded by sweaty, sticky bodies. You grimaced at the overwhelming feeling and tried to find a space where you could catch your breath. The kitchen was relatively empty, except for a couple making out on the counter. You decided to mind your own business, reaching into the fridge and navigating past cans and bottles of beer to grab a water bottle hidden at the back.

You twisted the cap off and took a long sip. Everyone was dressed up differently, which made sense—it was Halloween. Instead of babysitting your little cousins, you’d faked being sick to your parents, dressed up, and come to the Alpha Phi house. This wasn’t like you at all. The top student in your class, the teacher’s pet, the early-assignment submitter, the girl who became a TA in her junior year—you were the “good girl.”

So why were you here? Because you’d overheard some girls talking about the infamous Halloween party that the Alpha Phi guys threw every year. And you weren’t the type who usually went to parties. So why this one? Because you’d heard that Steve Rogers was going to show up, and you had a little crush on the star player of the varsity ice hockey team. You’d been trying to muster the courage to talk to him ever since you sat next to him in a lab in your first year. That was two years ago, and you’d been harbouring feelings for him ever since.

Your heart did a little flip every time he smiled at you when you passed him in the halls. Finishing your water, you threw the bottle in the recycling bin and tugged your tutu down to avoid a wedgie. The ballerina costume was a last-minute, twenty-dollar buy, but you were happy with it—the corseted top accentuated your chest, and though the sheer tights were a bit snug, it didn’t bother you too much.

You were making your way through the crowd and spotted a tuft of blond hair. Your heart flipped again. This was it, the perfect moment. You were going to ask Steve if he wanted to go out sometime. He was tipsy enough to say yes, and if he said no, he’d be too focused on his hangover tomorrow to remember your question. You took a deep breath and started toward him.

Then you saw them. You’d thought the rumours weren’t true, that they couldn’t be real. But the sight of Steve Rogers making out with Peggy Carter would be forever etched in your mind, because the pain in your heart was unbearable. You stood frozen, your heart thudding in your chest as you watched Steve's hands roam over Peggy’s body. You clenched your jaw and sniffled, rooted to the spot.

You only snapped out of it when someone spilled their drink on you. “Damn, sorry, gorgeous,” a guy dressed as Fred from Scooby-Doo winked at you drunkenly before chuckling and moving away. You shook your head, trying to clean the alcohol off your costume.

“Hey, buddy. I think you owe the girl a real apology,” another voice piped up. You looked up to see a towering figure dressed as Ghostface, holding Fred by the shoulder. “Now, say you’re sorry—like you really mean it, and none of that half-assed stuff because you’re shitfaced,” Ghostface ordered, crossing his arms. Fred straightened up, looked you in the eye, and apologized sincerely. Ghostface nodded approvingly and sent him away.

Before you realized it, Ghostface had moved closer to you. You turned to see him looking you over, his mask bobbing as if inspecting your costume. He clicked his tongue and put a hand on the small of your back. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

You both walked upstairs, where the sounds of the party gradually faded, and you were grateful for the quiet. You hesitated when he opened a door and gestured for you to go in.

For the first time that night, you spoke up. “Um, I’m sorry, but I don’t even know who you are.”

The chuckle that followed freaked you out a little, but then he reached up to remove the mask.

James. Freaking. Barnes.

You tried your best to mask your surprise, but you were sure he saw it, because the corners of his lips lifted into a smirk.

James “Bucky” Barnes—the captain of the varsity ice hockey team, a good student, a charmer, the president of Alpha Phi, and most importantly, the best friend of Steve Rogers.

You’ve met James a few times here and there. During some of the varsity games. And passed him in the dorms sometimes. He never caused you any trouble. He even offered to help you move-in in your second year when he clearly saw you struggle push your luggage up the stairs.

You were just acquaintances.

You swallowed and timidly walked into the pristine room, surprised by its immaculate condition. “I certainly didn’t expect a frat president to have such a clean room,” you muttered, hearing James laugh at your comment as he closed the door.

“Well, I don’t work well in a messy environment,” he shrugged and walked closer, his gaze trailing over your corset. You backed up slightly at the intensity of his approach, making him huff a laugh. “I don’t bite, princess,” he said, his fingers grazing the edge of your corset.

He gently guided you to the adjoining bathroom. “I’ll have to wash it out a bit. So, if you don’t mind getting your tutu a little damp, princess…,” he led, waiting for your response. You shook your head, signalling it was fine. He nodded toward the counter, and you hopped onto it.

He wetted a towel and began dabbing it on your clothes. “So, what’s a timid thing like you doing at a fraternity party?” he whispered, his focus on cleaning up the stain. You glanced at his concentrated face before looking away. “What? Can’t a girl come to a party?” you replied, defensively, for some reason.

James chuckled, “Oh, a girl can come to a party. But you, you’re not that type of girl, princess.” You raised an eyebrow at him, puzzled by his statement. “I mean, you never come to parties in general. So why the sudden appearance?” He sighed and caged you between his arms.

You tensed, starting to stammer. “Well, I wanted to see someone,” you shrugged, looking down at your hands.

“Yeah?” James asked, his gaze piercing. “Who was the special guy?”

You looked up at him through your lashes, then quickly looked away. He used two fingers to tilt your face toward him. “Eyes on me, princess,” he said softly.

“Steve. I came to ask Steve out…,” you admitted, spilling your secret.

James looked at you with you look, you couldn’t decipher what it was. But you didn’t know what to feel about it. He looked into your eyes for so long, you started to tear up due to the lack of blinking.

“Steve…,” he dragged it, and it made you wonder why. But you didn’t question it.

He continued to dab the wet cloth to your clothes. “You didn’t have to do that you know… The, um, asking the guy to apologize to me,” you broke the silence, because you couldn’t take the stuffy air that was in between the both of you.

James shook his head and chuckled as he dabbed on your neckline. “If I didn’t my Ma would scold my ear off if she knew. And, besides, a pretty girl needs to be treated right.”

You’re breathing stops at that, and you looked up at him with a confused look. He smirked at your expression, “what?” You shook you head and asked him, “you think I’m pretty?”

James scoffed and nodded, “I would have to be blind if I didn’t think your stunning, princess.”

You didn’t realise but your lips and James’ were a hair breadths away. “James…,” you tried to start but James beat you to it, “Bucky, princess. Call me Bucky.”

You gulped and nodded.

“Bucky.”

He groaned at they way his named sounded on your tongue. “Princess, your killin’ me here,” he whispered more to himself than at you. His knuckles gripped onto the counter tight. “Please…,” he muttered.

“Pardon?” you didn’t catch what he said.

“Please let me kiss you.”

You froze, you didn’t know what to do.

You always thought Bucky was hot. Hotter than Steve, but you never had any classes with him to fully judge him. You were a hundred percent sure that if Bucky was your lab partner instead of Steve, you’d totally be crushing on Bucky instead.

And if that were the case, you’d be nodding your head like a mad man. Steve was taken, you were still recovering from that. Bucky, apparently, liked you. Liked you more than you thought he did.

You saw the way his gaze flickered from your eyes to you lips and back to your eyes. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and saw his pupils dilate at the movement.

“I-,” you started but your thoughts were washed away when you saw Bucky lick his lips too. You heart thuds in your chest as you feel like the whole world is dark and the spotlight is just on you with the way Bucky looks like you. There’s a small part of you that wanted to feel how his lips would feel against you.

So, you nodded.

Before you knew it, Bucky was standing between your legs and gripping your hips. He then pulled you close and smashed his lips on yours. You took a second to understand what was going on, but when your conscious did come back to you cupped his face and kissed him back.

He licked at your bottom lip asking your permission to open up your mouth and you allowed it immediately. Soon your tongues were dancing together, yours was meek and shy letting Bucky do all the taking over. You wrapped your arms around his neck and whimpers against his mouth, which just made him groan against you.

He moved his lips from your mouth to your jaw, then to your neck. You tilted your head to give him more access, and the more you let him the more your whimpers turn to moans.

He moves his hands all over your body, “this okay, princess?” He whispered against your skin, and you nodded fervently and grasped at his black cloak. You felt him palm at your chest, and you sighed and whispered a, “more, Bucky, please.” He nodded against your skin and moved his hands up your thighs and squeezes the flesh of your thighs.

You felt the heat pool between your things and squeezed them together. Bucky smirked and pushed them away, “nuh uh, none o’ that.” He got closer to you, and you wrapped your legs around his hips and chuckled. His hands moved to your inner thighs, and you gasped out, the wetness pooling more into your underwear.

You felt his knuckles brushed against your core and you whimpered and dropped your head against his shoulder. “Please, Bucky,” you muttered against his costume. Without any other word he ripped your tights at the centre and felt the wet path of white cotton.

“Oh princess, so wet f’me already?” Bucky snickered and you nodded at his question.  He rubbed his knuckles against your cunt’s lips and pressed his fingers harder when he heard your soft mewl. “You like it don’t you, princess?” To which you nodded again and whispered his name breathlessly.

He pushed your underwear aside and sunk his thick fingers in, and you whined at the intrusion. The sweet stretch felt better than your own meek fingers and soon Bucky was pumping his fingers in and out making your legs shake. “I’m not even rubbing your clit, princess. Your legs are already shaking,” he whispered roughly against your ear.  

His thumb started to rub at your clit and that’s when you lost your mind. You mewled and moaned his name as his fingers were rubbing that deep spot in you and his thumb playing with your button has you becoming a wailing mess. He bends down and started to attack your neck. “Fuck, Bucky. Please,” you cried out as you feel your impending orgasm start to build at your core.

Bucky roughly rubbed at your clit and within seconds your gushed around his fingers. You sighed and untensed your shoulders. Bucky brought his fingers to his mouth, closed his eyes and licked them clean. You whimpered at the sight.

You both leaned in and captured the other in a deep kiss, Bucky picked you up like you weighed nothing and exited the bathroom and walked until he placed you down on his bed.

He pulled the Ghostface mask down and leaned to tower over you. You bit your lip, and he chuckled, “didn’t know princess was a bit freaky, hmm?” He unbuckled his belt under the cloak, and you took off your tutu and tossed it somewhere in his room.

When he managed to get his cock out of his pants, your eyes widened as the sheer size of him and then looked at him to see the small smirk that was painted on his lips. “Something wrong, princess?” You gulped and said, “it’s not gonna fit.”

Bucky chuckled and leaned over you once more and whispered into your ear, “we’ll make it fit, princess.” The tone he used made you shiver, and you gripped onto his shoulders and readied yourself. Bucky ran his shaft up and down you’re sit and you whined desperately.

“Bucky, please. I need you,” you squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back. He tapped your cheek with two fingers and said, “eyes on me, princess.” And with that Bucky slowly pushed inside you. The stretch was so deliciously sweet and painful it made you lose your mind. You both gasped at the feeling of him moving further into you.

“Fuck, princess. You’re so tight,” he grits out as he starts to slowly thrust in and out of you. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist and your nails raked down his back and he let out a deep moan which made goosebumps raise on your skin.

The sound of skin slapping on skin wasn’t’ as loud as your wails of Bucky’s name and moans. When the tip of him tapped against that spot in you, your eyes rolled to the back of your mind and you squealed, “Bucky right there, oh! Right there!”

Bucky grabbed a hold of the headboard and thrusted harder into you, aiming at that same spot and you felt tears run down the side of face in pleasure. “Fuck, princess. Gripping me like a vice,” he purses his lips as he knocked his hips against yours.

You felt the sheer length of him move in and out of you, your walls embraced him like he was meant to be there in the first place. “Attagirl. Take what I give you, yeah?” He huffed against your ear. The coarse patch of pubic hair that rested at the bottom of his happy trail, rubbed against your clit giving your that nice friction and it made you whine even more.

He pressed a hand against your abdomen and pressed down harder and it made the feeling even better. He saw how you reacted and pressed down harder, and you arched your back at the feeling. With that you felt the climax in you start to rise, “Bucky, I’m so close.” You whimpered as you watched the man wearing the Ghostface mask rut into you expertly.

He threw your legs over his shoulders and rutted into your harder, the band at your core bends and bends until it finally snapped and soon you were coming around Bucky’s cock.

Bucky groaned deeply at you squeezing him tightly, he pulled out and you whined at the loss of the feeling. He was fisting his length at the sight of you post orgasmic bliss and it looked so hot from your perspective. You quickly got on your knees and replaced Bucky’s hand with yours. “Fucking hell, princess,” he ran a hand through your hair and bunched it up at the back of your head. “That’s it, making me feel so good,” he sighed and threw his head back.

He groaned when you parted your lips, the mushroom head of his member inches away from your mouth. He tipped his head back, “fuck I’m so close.” And soon you felt his warm spent spill down your throat. Bucky moaned at the sight, and his chest reverberated deeply when he saw you swallow.

He pushed you down to lay on your back again and he then he laid next to you. You reached up and took of his Ghostface mask so you can his face. “That desperate to see my face? Hmm?” He smirked at your action. You shook your head and chuckled shyly, “maybe.”

Bucky reached up and caressed your face. “You know you’re really pretty right, princess?” You blushed at his comment, “buy me dinner first, Barnes.” Bucky chuckled and then nodded, “are you free this weekend?”

You froze, “you can’t be serious.”

“Well, I kinda am.”

“You are a piece of work James Barnes,”

“Should I take that as a, yes?”

You chuckled and shook your head; you gave him a soft smile.

“I’m taking that as a yes, princess.”

🎀🎀🎀

A fic posted during the midst of exam period?!

I would like to thank @buck-star for helping me with coming up with this idea!

This took a while and it's ALOT, but late night productivity hit me like a freight train haha.

I've one more exam in the next week and I'll be done!

Hope you lovelies liked this!

Lemme know what y'all think of the fic!

Till' then,

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀