#he used to sit and eat his soup with me when he came over to do work at the house

[hella1975]

sometimes i think about the fact my grandparents literally overnight just cut us off and im like. how did u even do that. does it torment you

[diy-dynamite]

Television Influence

Homicipher || Mr. Crawling + GN Reader

So... I have no idea how to use Tumblr to write fics But. Consider this my trial before it goes down :3

CONTENTS: (1) mentions & descriptions of murder, (2) kissing

Disclaimer: the part about MC being an assassin is just a hc I came up with. There are spoilers under the cut, though (at least I think I put the cut, idk tho)

So hear me out. Idk if anyone did this yet, but listen: after bringing your sweetheart (Mr. Crawling, obviously) to the real world, things went back to normal. Sort of. You were never really normal to begin with.

********

You went back to your old job, hacking and killing, keeping the bills steady with commissions, yada yada. Corporate worker on weekdays, but at night and on weekends, you're a highly sought out eliminator.

This busy schedule didn't sit right for Mr. Crawling, though. Every time you came back, you noticed that he sat before the door, already waiting for you to twist the knob and push. You installed cameras to try to keep your eyes on what he did, only to find out that if his presence was caught on camera, the film would glitch and blur and static would pepper across your screen. Still, you were able to decipher what he did through the choppy feed.

He stood his ground in front of the door with that small, anticipating grin on his grey face. Your heart ached at the sight, cooing aloud right in front of your victim before you slammed your crowbar into their skull.

That's when you realised you didn't like leaving him for hours on end. You didn't want to make him wait like that.

An idea sparked in your head when you were getting ready for your morning job. Mr. Crawling was still lying on his spot next to yours on your shared bed. You couldn't tell if he was sleeping or spacing out. Did he even need sleep?

You shrugged that thought off and quietly tip-toed your way into your living room. You switched on the TV—which you never used until now—and left the volume at a moderate level before leaving for work.

Truly enough, the sweetheart confusedly crawled over to sit at the front of the screen, watching the rom-com show that just got aired.

You smiled, leaving the monitoring app as you sipped from your favourite morning tea. You checked in on him around every five hours, and he never moved from his spot, not until you were already at your front door, though. The humanoid man seemed to hit a realization and crawled to the front door once again. It's like he already knew when you usually arrived.

He just sat there with that same thin smile on his face, waiting for your return. If he had a tail, it'd be swaying slowly. Patient and hopeful, like a dog.

You pushed the door open, and his chipper laughter rang through the air.

"You home! You home!"

He pushed a chuckle out of your lips, embracing you by the hips as you locked your front door with shaky hands due to his movement.

"Home, home," you nodded, sighing, yet you still smiled. "Hungry? Want eat?"

He giggled again, his smile practically cutting from ear to ear.

You served him his red soup—it wasn't tomatoes, but it was the chunks and blood of your victim last night.

"You enjoy?" You asked, leaning on your palm as you watched him eat. "Thing," you pointed at the TV in the nearby room. "Thing fun?"

Mr. Crawling wiped the leftover soup from his lips, pitch black tongue licking over where the blood was on his hand.

"Thing fun," he agreed. "You more fun. Many more."

You laughed. Thank goodness for all the language lessons you took on his dialect because these little gems that left his cold lips would've flown last your head.

Suddenly, Mr. Crawling paused.

"Want... try something."

"Try?" You tilted your head in confusion, and he mirrored your expression as you uttered a word in English. "More eat? Eat another?"

He giggled. "No!"

Your brows knitted together, and your lips pursed as you pondered. "Try what?"

Mr. Crawling crawled around the chabudai table, already hovering over your lap. His lips formed that same loveable (and slightly uncanny) smile. "You, me..." he gestured between you two with one hand. You nodded along, hoping to understand. "Me, you," you said.

He gestured again. "Not the same. Me, you, different. I saw other—other like you," he pointed at the TV. "Saw many like you. They say love, but they not show. Why?"

"...?" You had to process that for a second. Lengthy sentences in his language were harder to decode. "Er... um," you sighed. "They not ready? Love big, but they know small."

He watched you expectantly, so you continued.

"Uh... love big. Yes. Many meaning. Few word, few say."

"You love me?"

This was a question you got daily. It didn't hurt to answer repetively, but now that you thought of it....

Your hesitation made Mr. Crawling shrink back, his smile slowly turning into pouting.

"No no," you quickly added. "Me love you. You kind. You rescue."

He perked up, his joy bouncing right back. "Me love you!" He chirped.

You sighed, but your breath of relief didn't last long. He took you by the chin, his cold and calloused hands as gentle as he always was, and he poked his lips against yours in a brief kiss.

.

.

.

"You cute," he giggled, and you realised your face went red. "Cute, cute."

"Where did you learn to do that?" You blurted out, confusion and fluttering shyness grasping your stomach like a ruthless vine. "I mean—" you snapped out of it, seeing his confusion. "—how... how you know... do that?"

He pointed at the TV again. "Saw many like you. Say they love they, then they do!"

.

.

.

He saw people kiss?

"You—"

He kissed you again. Did it even count as a kiss? It was more like tapping lips together than a kiss.

"Cute!" He chirped and kissed you again. It didn't take much for you to know that he was pleased with your reddened cheeks and wanted to see it over and over. You counted twenty times before you stopped him, which made him frown.

"I teach," you sighed, your shyness wearing off. He practically bounced at your words. "I teach you how. My language, I call 'kiss'."

He tilted his head.

You said it again. "Kiss."

"....Ck...ck..."

"Kiss." You nodded.

"Ki...iss?"

You patted his head in approval. "Kiss."

He giggled. "Kiss! Kiss! Me kiss you!"

You couldn't help but laugh. "I teach you how. Don't move."

He didn't.

When you leaned in for a kiss, he stiffened, but he didn't move away. You held his hands and brought them to your waist, and then you held the sides of his head, pressing on.

You didn't take it too far, no—he wasn't really ready for English yet, let alone French if you know what I mean.

"....Me kiss you," you said.

It was almost as if steam was blowing out of his ears. The place around his cheeks darkened into a deeper grey, and you laughed. Before you could comment, however, he pounced at the chance to kiss you again before you changed your mind.

********

Erm so this was kinda ass LMAO

It's just practice anyway 😞 didn't proofread either so I guess that'll be my bad when I wake up tomorrow to see a bajillion of mistakes

[cherrygirlfriend]

bsf!rafe taking care of sick reader

warnings: none! fluff hi lovelies! i just got this idea while i was sleep-deprived and really just felt like writing fluff since it seems i haven't been writing it much lately ,,, and also because what i have planned next for bsf!rafe is ... well, let's just say he's gonna be in the trenches.

you were certain this was the worst you'd ever felt. you should've known it'd happen - of course, taking care of your little sister while she was sick would have some kind of consequences.

the tv in your bedroom was playing old episodes of buffy the vampire slayer, something you always watched when you were hungover or otherwise having a bad day, and apparently now whenever you were sick.

you had no appetite, and your entire body felt like it was on fire while also being ice cold, your trash can filled with used tissues, your second box of them now on your nightstand next to a cup of tea that had gone cold.

a soft knock was on your door, and you sighed, you knew that your sister felt guilty for getting you sick, but you also didn't want her to get sick all over again. "i told you, don't come in!"

but the door still creaked open, and you let out a soft sigh, the heels of your palms now pressing against your eyes. "i told you not to feel guilty that you got me sick, i don't blame you."

"i wasn't aware that i did that."

you furrowed your brows when the voice that came from the door wasn't your little sister's soft, warm voice, but instead a rough, deep voice, one you were intimately familiar with. you didn't even need to take your hands away from your eyes to know who it belonged to.

but once you did, you were confronted with your best friend's tall figure standing at your doorway, a smile on his face and a grocery bag and a bouquet of flowers in hand as he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. you pulled your blanket up to your nose, aware that you definitely didn't look the best right now, only making the boy chuckle.

"why are you here, rafe?" you asked in a soft voice that was muffled by the blanket, "i texted you to tell you i'm sick."

"i know." rafe said as he slowly walked over to your bed, sitting at the edge of it. "you do know that you don't need to hide, right? i've seen you sick a million times when we were kids." the boy chuckled, slowly pulling the blanket down, revealing your face.

"then why are you here?"

"i'm here to take care of you." he said with a small smile. it was odd, you were sure you hadn't seen rafe act this gentle since you were both children, the boy now pulling things out of the grocery bag. "i brought you some crackers, and some of your favorite snacks. and, chicken noodle soup. your sister said you haven't really been eating."

"rafe, you do know that you could get sick too, right?" you asked as rafe started emptying the contents of the grocery bag, revealing an array of some of your favorite snacks, your eyes widening.

"well, if i do, i expect the same treatment from you."

you narrowed your eyes as you looked at him, "you do know that no funny business is gonna go down, right?" and the blonde simply burst into laughter. "i mean, this isn't exactly an attractive sight."

"just let me take care of you."

and even though you kept trying to tell rafe to leave, that he'd probably get sick if he stayed, but your attempts were futile, and after a while, there was a fresh bouquet of flowers on your nightstand along with a new cup of tea, you had downed the chicken noodle soup, the warmth of it calming down some of the pain in your throat, and you were both now settled in your queen-sized bed, a cold towel on your forehead that rafe had insisted you needed.

"i can't believe you're watching this again." rafe grinned, his arm lazily thrown around your shoulder as he bit into one of the twizzlers he had brought, buffy still playing on tv.

"what do you mean? it's a great show."

"mmhm. and you're sure it has nothing to do with your crush on that emo bleach-blonde vampire?"

you softly smacked rafe's chest before taking the cold towel off your forehead, now having turned lukewarm. "you know, he kind of reminds me of you."

that statement made rafe grin, turning to look at you with lifted brows, "oh, yeah? is that why you have a crush on him?"

you simply rolled your eyes, letting out a small scoff.

rafe hadn't even noticed the moment you had gone slack in his arms, still focused on the tv, only realizing that you were asleep when you let out a small, adorable whine in your sleep. he looked down at your face, so serene and beautiful, it made something in his chest ache. he'd never tell you, but the moments he loved the most were the ones like this. ones when he could just admire you without having to hide it.

he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, tugging it behind your ear before pressing a soft, feather-like kiss on your forehead, looking down at you, an aching feeling stabbing in his chest, one that was more intimate than any of the sexual aching he felt for you. and that was the moment that he really realized he was in trouble.

and in a soft whisper, he said, "i love you." hoping that the girl it was meant for wouldn't be able to hear it.

[chrisevansonly]

𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: there is no better remedy than your husband, little girl and soleil the bunny

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of sickness, nothing major, fluffy

𝐚/𝐧: idk this is so self indulgent

“Juliette.. nous devons nous taire, tu te souviens?” (juliette we have to be quiet remember?)

Charles whispered to the 5 year old little girl as he carried a tray into the dark room with soup, some medicine and tea for you. You’d come down with a little cold, nothing severe and it was almost over but it knocked a lot of energy out of you

“Oui papa! Je serai aussi silencieuse qu'une souris” (yes daddy, i will be as quiet as a mouse)

As cute as Juliette was, she definitely wasn’t super quiet because you stirred from your spot in bed and spotted the two of them, a smile on your little girls face as she came to your side of the bed

“Hi maman!” she sighed happily as you yawned, raising your hand to stroke her cheek gently

“Sorry mon cœur, i tried to keep her quiet”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, sitting up a little so he could put the tray beside you, ready whenever you wanted to eat something

“No it’s okay, my little Jules just wanted to say hi hmm mon chouchou?” (my darling)

Juliette nodded before holding out her orange coloured bunny to you

“Maman, when I get sick, Soleil helps me feel better, here, she can help you too!”

Juliette was always concerned for you, being equally a mama’s and daddy’s girl she wanted you both to be happy and healthy all the time, no matter what she had to do.

“Aww merci mon amour, c’est très gentille de toi” (thank you my love, that is very nice of you)

“Je t’aime maman!!” (i love you mommy)

Smiling you leaned forward to kiss her forehead before letting her cuddle into your side, Charles admiring from his spot by the end of the bed

“You coming for a cuddle too papa?” you teased lightly, earning an eye roll from your husband

“Yes, but first medicine for you”

Charles couldn’t hold back the laugh that’s spilled from his lips as he watched you frown, Juliette hugging you tightly

“It’s okay maman, i’ll hold you, make you feel better!”

“Thank you baby”

After another minute or so of pouting you took the medication from Charles, quickly washing it down with some water, making a slight face of disgust

“Maintenant, faites-nous des câlins, s'il vous plaît?” (now come and cuddle us please)

Charles nodded, leaning down to kiss your forehead

“Je ne voudrais pas faire autre chose avec mes filles” (i wouldn’t want to do anything else with my girls)

You sent him a smile as he moved the tray, the soup long forgotten as he took you into his arms, Juliette already soundly sleeping on your other side. You may have been dealing with a pesky little cold, but there was nothing that was better than cuddles with your two favourite people in the world.

Oh and Soleil…you couldn’t forget about Soleil..

[fatkish]

Demon Child Pt. 2

After the meeting, Gyomei walked back to his estate with you snuggled in his arms asleep. Using your healing abilities takes a lot out of you so you slept. When Gyomei got to his estate he walked through the house, to his bedroom where he gently set you down on the floor before grabbing a blanket and laying it on you and putting a pillow beneath your head. He then left the room quietly and went to inform Genya about their guest.

He walked through the house and out the back through the shoji doors. He walked until he felt Genya’s presence. “Genya” he called. “Yes Himejima?” Genya replied. “I’ve told you you can call me Gyomei, also, we have a guest staying with us tonight.” Gyomei informed. Genya stoped his training and walked over to Gyomei who then pat Genya’s head once he was within reach. “Who’s the guest?” He asked. “Their name is y/n, and they are a half demon child.”

“A half demon? I didn’t even know that was possible. Do half demons eat people?” Genya asked. Gyomei wasn’t an expert on half demons, seeing that he didn’t even know they existed or could. “I don’t know but that is why they are our guest. We are to keep an eye on them, but I truly believe that this child doesn’t mean any harm.” Gyomei replied. “It should be about evening yes? Why don’t we make dinner?” Gyomei suggested. The two of them went inside and began to make dinner which consisted of rice, fried vegetables, miso soup and fish.

You woke up to the smell of something good. You had no idea what it was but decided to follow the smell. You walked out of the room you were in and down the hall into the main room where you found the giant man and another boy together doing something. You didn’t know what they were doing so you sat down and watched. Genya turned around and nearly yelped when he saw you sitting there staring at him and Gyomei.

By the time they finished making dinner, Gyomei set some food down in front of you as well as a cup of tea. Once everyone was served, Gyomei and Genya began to pray before they ate. You just watched. When they started eating you watched them. They were eating with sticks and you had no idea how. You looked in front of you and saw strange stuff but you did recognize one thing. The fish. Genya and Gyomei noticed that you weren’t eating, which had caused Gyomei to be concerned.

You picked up the fish with your hands and ate the head much to Genya’s horror. He watched you eat the fish, bones and all. He saw that that was the only thing you ate and that you were sniffing the other food, inspecting it. Genya realized that you probably didn’t know what that food was, having heard from Gyomei that you were found alone in the woods. “That’s rice, that white fluffy stuff. Try it, it’s yummy” he told you as he pointed at the small bowl of rice. You looked at where the guy was pointing and since you didn’t sense any ill will, you decided to try the ‘rice’.

You picked up the bowl and ate some of the rice similar to how a dog eats out of a bowl. Genya sighed then grabbed your chopsticks and handed them to you to use. You just stared at them like they were some strange creature. That’s when Genya realized you probably don’t know how to use them. “Here, I’ll show you how to use chopsticks, just don’t eat like a dog.” Genya said as he gently grabbed your hand and positioned the chopsticks in your hand the right way. He then began maneuvering your hand and used your hand to pick up rice and put it in your mouth using the chopsticks.

With a bit more of Genya’s help, you clumsily but slowly got the hang of using chopsticks. After you finished your rice, Genya told you to try the other foods and you did. You came to the realization that Genya is a genius who knows what everything is. He introduced you to yummy things so he must be a genius. You realized that you didn’t know what their names where so you pointed at yourself and said y/n. You pointed at Genya and waited. Genya realized he hadn’t told you his name. “My name is Genya”

Gyomei realized he too had yet to introduce himself. “That’s Gyomei” Genya said as he pointed at Gyomei. You looked at Gyomei, then Genya, then Gyomei, then back at Genya. You pointed at Gyomei and said “Gyo!” Gyomei smiled as you attempted to say his name. You pointed at Genya and said “Gen” “close, it’s Genya.” “Gen” Genya realized his full name must be hard for you to say so he left it at that.

After dinner, Gyomei and Genya cleaned up and you watched, not really understanding what they were doing. After cleaning up, Gyomei and Genya decided to get ready for their patrol. Gyomei decided to have Genya stay behind with you tonight while he patrolled his territory for any demons. After bidding you both goodbye, Gyomei left leaving you and Genya together. Genya decided he was going to take a bath before bed and got the water going. Once the bath was ready, he got in and started to relax, only to find you staring at him a few minutes later scaring him.

You stared at him, wondering what he was doing. You decided you wanted a closer look and tried to climb up the side much to Genya’s horror, he didn’t want you to see his ‘little friend’ and have to teach you about the differences between boys and girls. Genya then grabbed a towel to cover himself up and tried to keep you out of the tub but that didn’t work. You fell in and freaked out, acting like a cat that fell into a pool of water. Genya then saw how dirty you actually were and decided he would give you a bath. He helped his younger siblings before so he didn’t really mind cleaning you up and just pictured that he was helping one of his late siblings clean up.

Once you were clean and dried, Genya got you dressed in a clean robe and decided that he would fashion something to fit you better. After your warm bath you got sleepy and Genya noticed. He brought you back to the bedroom and got you all settled in before he got to work, fixing you up some clothes to wear. You crawled over to him and laid your head on his thigh, wanting to be close to him. Genya smiled as he continued to work late into the night. By the time he was finished, he was tired. He then scooped you up and went over to the futon and crawled in with you in his arms and went to sleep.

When Gyomei returned in the early morning hours, he smiled sensing the two of you snuggling together. He then took out his own futon and went to sleep. When you woke up later that morning, Genya and Gyomei were already up and had made breakfast and started training. You sat and watched them, curious about what they were doing. You kicked your little legs and clapped whenever you saw them do something you thought was cool.

After a while, you got bored and decided to wander off whilst Gyomei’s crow kept an eye on you. You ended up wandering in the forest and finding the waterfall that Gyomei trains with. You stared at it and decided to walk into the water to look for fish. You had started to catch fish and had quite a small pile of 7 fish when Genya and Gyomei came to check on you. Genya chuckled cause you looked like a drowned rat with your entire body soaked. You smiled as you held up a fish to Genya. Genya was amazed that someone so small could catch so many fish.

“You seem to have been busy little one, how did you catch this many fish?” Gyomei was curious. While closely inspecting the fish, Genya found small teeth marks on each fish. You walked over to Genya and proceeded to try and feed him a raw fish until a noise caught your attention. You saw a strange creature hop out of the water and hid behind Gyomei before pointing at it. “What that” you looked at Genya for an answer. “That’s a frog” “fog?” “No frog” you struggled to properly pronounce the new word Genya taught you.

As you walked back carrying the fish you caught, you happily hummed as you walked side by side with Genya and Gyomei. When you got back to Gyomei’s estate, Genya and Gyomei started to cook lunch while you watched. While Genya was gutting the fish he accidentally cut himself, you walked over and stuck his finger in your mouth before pulling it out. Genya was worried until he saw that his cut was healed. “You fixed it, how? Do you have healing spit?” You just tilted your head and smiled at Genya. Genya went back to cooking as you watched them.

After lunch, Kyojuro came to visit, Gyomei told you that he and Genya both had missions and that you would be staying with Rengoku. You walked over to Gyomei and cried into his shirt as he rubbed your head. “No go. Gyo, Gen no go” you cried. Gyomei smiled and pat your back as he held you. “It’s alright little one, we’ll be alright. Once we are done I’ll have our crows let you know.” Gyomei said as he rubbed your back. “Promise” you demanded. Gyomei chuckled and promised you.

You then crawled out of Gyomei’s lap before hugging Genya and Gyomei goodbye before latching onto Rengoku’s pant leg. You waved goodbye as you two left Gyomei’s estate. Gyomei cried as you left, and Genya waved back. “Don’t worry young y/n! I promise that you’ll have a good time with me. I’ll introduce you to my little brother Senjuro, you’ll get to taste his delicious cooking. I promise you’ll have a good time. Now let us go!” Rengoku shouted happily. You waddled behind him, still missing your Gyo and Gen. You followed him as you both began your journey to the Rengoku estate.

[im-so-tired-sorry]

Cramping

kiribaku x gn!reader

cw: reader experiences periods, mentions of blood, swearing, and pet names

a/n: ending is lowkey rushed but idrc at this point lmao

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you were in the kitchen cooking with your boyfriends. you three were making a stew that consisted of various meats and veggies.

it was truly a three person effort.

you three would walk around the kitchen for items that you needed and you would each kiss the shoulders of the other two if you happened to walk behind them.

but of course, in couple-y fashion, it turned into teasing and you guys had to mess with each other; you would purposely bumped into your partners and kirishima grabbed at tickle sensitive spots as he walked by. but bakugo would just keep cutting veggies.

that is until you bumped into him enough times, catching you laugh from him side eyeing you.

he grinned and grabbed a kitchen towel and when you caught your breath from laughing, he whipped it at you lightly, hitting the lower part of your stomach.

all of a sudden, a twisting, piercing pain stabbed you internally. you took a breath through gritted teeth, but you couldnt resist to crouch into a ball while holding the lower half of your torso.

of course, your boyfriends crouched to your side as soon as they saw you in pain.

“katsuki!! how hard did you hit them!!!?!?!”

“i didnt hit them that hard! i barely used any force!”

“well you clearly did if theyre in this much pain!!”

“it wasnt that!! it wasn’t that, i’m just cramping that’s all!!”

“oh”

“oh”

…

…

“OH”

“well good to know you’re not pregnant.”

“katsuki! baby, what do you need right now. pain killer? heating pad? water?”

“to, fuck, to lay down.”

and with that, your partners went to work. kirishima carried you to bed to allow you to stay in your curled up position. once in bed, bakugo made you drink an entire bottle of water before allowing you to lay down, placing another bottle on the nightstand and passing you your heating pad.

your boyfriends helped you get as comfortable as you could, all while checking on the stew.

“you need anything else?”

with a yawn, you answered, “a nap. i think the cooking got me a little overworked.”

“and over heated,” kirishima said as he felt your forehead, “don’t worry love. we’ll finish cooking and i’ll try to sneak some in so you don’t have to get up-“

“hey! no eating in the room! especially any kind of soup. cause i know your clumsy ass will spill it on our sheets.”

you giggled before sensing blood flow through yourself from the added pressure. seeing you in the uncomfortable state sent worry to your partners, but you brushed it off and they left you to sleep.

you woke up a couple hours later to the sky in a darker light. you were in less pain now, but there was still a lingering tension below your stomach. it didn’t hurt, but it’s never a comfortable feeling.

you heard the bedroom door open slowly. “babe. you awake?”

“mmmm”

“tch, i’ll take that as a yes. sit up, i brought you food.”

“i thought there was no eating on the bed.”

“do you want it or not?”

slowly and still a little groggily, you sat up and katsuki handed you a bowl of warm stew as he sat next to you. the stew ended up really good, with the veggies well cooked and the meat tender.

“how do you feel?”

you shrugged, not just as an instant response but because there really was no way to explain it.

“is there anything i can do?”

“take this feeling away.”

he sighed and wrapped an arm around you. “sorry to break it to you, but i can’t, no matter how much i want to. what i, and eijirou, can do…is try and support you through this.”

you finished your stew and rested your head on his shoulder. “that’s more than enough.”

“katsuki!! i finished loading the dishwasher. is there anything else before i start it?” you faced the door where your giant boyfriend came in and leaned against the doorframe. “hey baby. you feeling ok?”

you shrugged in response.

“i’ll take this,” bakugo took the bowl and stood, “I’ll put this in the wash.”

you sat at the edge of the bed to grab your water bottle. after you took a drink and put it back on the nightstand, you noticed a pop of color on your light colored sheets where you were laying last. you gasped in surprise, realizing you stained the sheets with blood. you caught you partners’ attentions while they were both at the door.

“what happened?”

“nothing!”

“are you hurting again?”

“no! i mean kind of, but no i’m fine!”

“did you stain the sheets?”

you opened your mouth to deny, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to get away with it, so you shamefully looked away.

“oh baby,” kirishima walked up to you and held your face in his hands, “it’s ok! we just have to wash them and they’ll be gone. no need to be ashamed either, it’s natural.” he gave you a kiss on the forehead.

“i’m gonna put this in the dishwasher and then come up to change the sheets. eijirou, do you mind starting a shower for them?”

“of course i don’t mind!”

a shower was a good idea. just to have a sense of cleanliness.

eijirou prepared the shower for you, and as soon as the water was warm enough, you hoped in. after a proper rinse, you dressed comfortably for bed.

returning to the bedroom, you noticed the darker sheets over your boyfriends already in bed. katsuki was reading his book and eijirou was on his phone, each putting their item down as soon as you entered.

“ready for bed?” kirishima asked with a dorky little smile.

you nodded, excited to rest with your partners.

before getting into bed though, katsuki made you drink more water.

you snuggled in between your partners as they cuddled around you, making sure you were comfortable and that they weren’t squeezing too hard.

and with that, you three fell asleep.

[fuckyeahchinesefashion]

OP: I'm taking the civil service exam and if I get in there, will they fire me if I were mentally unstable?

Cnetizens: Sweetheart, guess why the civil service exam is oversubscribed as fuck?

yll: No, we have one in our unit. His performance bonus was deducted, and then he, armed with a fruit knife, stabbed two Deputy Directors of Bureau and then smashed the Director-general's office. He is now recuperating at home, and we have to visit him regularly. However, he is very principled and only attacks leaders when he has a seizure, not ordinary staff.

xhzz: Warrior.

dtxgg: I heard from my senior coworker in the organization that during one of the general meetings, when the Director-general was making an impassioned speech, this big sister suddenly slammed the table and shouted, “It's all bullshit!” Then she waved her sleeve and left, and from then on everyone realized that she was not normal. Big sister's exploits included rushing in during a bureau meeting and flickering on the forehead of every Director with her knuckle; when the leaders were eating at noon in the cafeteria's booths, she rushed in, made the rounds, and asked, “Yo, where's the corruption?” The leaders told her to go home and get well, she said she was not sick. After that, the big sister became the real Director-general of our unit, walking everywhere with two security guards behind. She came especially early every day, wearing sunglasses, patrolling the unit building, behind the two little brother trembling. No matter who it is, Big Sister will bash them right to their faces. The canteen auntie who scooped less food when dishing out, the masses who came to the unit to handle administrative affairs and stole the paper from the printer. She bashed them all, not to mention the leaders. The leaders have become numb. Later, the big sister's condition was slowly brought under control, and she had already retired when I joined the unit.

xxxC: LMFAO check the comments lmao

luvpp: There was a man in my mom's unit who became mentally unstable after joining the workforce and ran to the Director's office every day to sit there, saying that he himself was the director, and then the director granted him paid leave, and he still went to the unit to sit in the director's office as usual.

yzxka: ASDDFGHFGJ this one

momo: Our unit invited an expert to give a lecture, and when it was all over, he rushed up to the expert and asked loudly, “Do you know what it means to be full of crap?”

sbkpg: lkkfghdfgsdf

xuexue: The leader took me to another building in the office area, beforehand he specifically explained to me, “There is a man who guards the gate, if he asks you, do you believe in the universe, you must answer categorically, I do! Otherwise you won't get in.” Later I realized that the man was a little mentally unstable, and he was transferred to guard the gate, in fact, that building was originally inside the office area but the higher-ranks let them built a fence and set up a security booth in order to give him a post. Once the Director of Division went to a meeting and failed to answer his question and did not get in.

Vvvviola: After reading the comments, you will understand why everyone wants to take the civil service exam, because it is a job where even if you are really crazy, you will not be fired. It is completely different from capitalists squeezing laborers and laying off employees after squeezing them out.

momo: But as long as you don't go crazy, you'll be used like crazy.

arww: That was the case with the senior who was my tutor when I joined the office. She was crazily obsessed with her religion, and I don't know what kind of sect she was, but she played Buddhist scriptures in her office every day, wore a big red robe(*the unorthodox kind sect of buddhism), and meditated when she wasn't working, and practiced her skill in the room. I ordered a takeout at noon, it was Duck Blood and Vermicillon Soup. She righteously criticized me: duck blood can't be eaten, the animal's blood is full of anger, eating it will lead to evil spirits. I was so frightened that I dropped the vermicelli in my mouth. The leaders were quite polite to her. I worked with her for a month, she retired and went home, and I took over her job.

momo: Sister you go eat Duck Blood and Vermicillon Soup fearlessly hahahahhahhahah

lin: The Chief of my section, beat up two directors-general in a row, the third director-general was a woman, she told him, "I'm a woman, you can't beat me up".

xrhmm: they are even haggling

sytxztt: fuck

sstd: so did he beat that director?

lin: No, he doesn't beat women

[nurse-floyd]

In Good Hands

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Bradley Bradshaw x reader

You and Jake are sick and miserable but your favourite man is there to look after you both.

Taglist: @pretzelcat4-blog

This one is all for @vivwritesfics

The front door creaked open as Bradley made his way into the house, arms full with shopping bags from the grocery store.

He sat the bags down, placing the flowers he’d bought from the florist on his way home in one of your vases before he made his way to the living room where you and Jake were bundled together on the sofa.

“Hey, how are my two sickies doing?” Bradley asked softly, setting the flowers on the side table before kneeling in front of you both.

Jake gave a weak smile, his face pale and eyes glassy. “We’re miserable,” he croaked, his voice raspy from a sore throat. “But she’s worse off than I am.”

Bradley shook his head. Of course he’d be playing tough guy, even with a fever and bug that’d had him flat out for the last 24 hours.

You gave a somewhat pitiful moan of agreement as you buried your head in the crook of Jake’s neck. Your skin was flushed, and Bradley could see the exhaustion clear on your face.

Bradley placed a hand on both of your foreheads, tutting at the fever that still hadn’t broken. His heart ached seeing the pair of you like this. “I brought some ingredients to make chicken noodle soup,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and then to Jake’s, “and some flowers to cheer you up.”

“Thanks, Roos,” you murmured, your eyes fluttering open just long enough to give him a small smile before closing again, exhaustion taking over.

He went about chopping ingredients, and putting the soup on to boil as he flitted between cooking and checking on the pair of you. When the soup had nothing more to do then simmer until it was ready, he came back to the living room, two glasses of juice in hand.

Once he got another look at you, Bradley could see Jake wasn’t just trying to be tough and lying. You didn’t look good. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch soft. “You’re burning up, sweetheart,” he said with concern. “Let’s get you more comfortable.” He helped you adjust the blankets and handed you the glass of orange juice. “Sip slowly.”

You took a few small sips before all the energy you had was sapped from you. The pair helped you lean back and get settled as Bradley left to get a cold washcloth to try and bring down your fever a little more.

He settled down again in front of you, placing one washcloth on Jake’s forehead as he rang out another and began to gently dab at your head and neck. You nuzzled into the coolness, immediately finding relief.

“You’re too good to us, Bradshaw,” Jake teased, although it lacked his usual spark with how miserable he felt.

“Yeah, well. Anything for you two,” he gave him a tight lipped smile, hating seeing the pair of you so sick and miserable.

As soon as the soup was finished cooking, he ladled to bowls full and brought them in. He helped Jake sit you up, propped up by a mountain of pillows.

Jake gratefully took his own bowl, taking a small sip before he practically moaned around the spoon. If it were any other situation, Bradley may have found it hot. “Jesus, Bradshaw. Maybe we should get sick more often if this is the treatment we get.”

“That recipe is courtesy of Momma Bradshaw, always helped me when I was sick.”

He grabbed your bowl then, and dipped in the spoon before bringing it to your mouth. You opened your mouth slightly, letting him spoon the liquid into your mouth. Jake was right. It was good soup. You just wished you could appreciate it fully without being so ill.

After a few mouthfuls you were exhausted once more and were almost falling asleep as Bradley kept encouraging you to eat more.

“Where’s your bowl of soup, mister,” Jake whispered so it wouldn’t disturb you.

“Eh, I’ll get something later,” he replied, shaking off Jake’s concern.

Jake shot him a look that meant he wasn’t up for an argument. How he could look so stern and sexy with a fever was beyond comprehension. “Sweetheart, we can’t have you running yourself into the ground looking after us,” he gave him those soft green eyes that Bradley couldn’t say no to.

With a huff, he got up from his seat on the ground and made his way to the kitchen. He grabbed a bowl of soup and a bread roll and made his way back to sit with his two loves. Yeah, he was probably going to get sick himself, but he knew you and Jake would take just as much care of him as he’d done for you both.

[choccorin]

light rain | ft. sakura

tags. fluff , sakura haruka x gn! reader, maybe ooc 'kura?

at the early stages of your relationship, sakura never knew that you get sick very easily and he found this out when you were going on a light stroll.

sakura was on break from patrolling when he saw you shopping for some things at a store, since he was on break, he offered to walk you home and you happily accepted.

while he was walking you from, it started to rain a little bit. you knew that you'd get sick even at the tiniest bit of rain, so you told him to hurry up.

once you arrive to your apartment, you were both a bit wet from the rain. so before he left, you offer him your umbrella. he declined at first saying he doesn't need it but you insisted, you explained that you didn't want your boyfriend to be sick. he turns red at the nickname, he accepts your umbrella with a blushing face.

it was now the next day, sakura thought it was weird that you didn't go to school today, you didn't even tell him why. he got a little sad that you didn't tell him but he's never admit that. he's getting worried so he decided to call you.

his phone rings and you immediately pick up.

“hey, you okay?” he says on the phone, he was expecting you to respond but got confused when he heard coughing and sniffling instead,

“are you sick?!” he yells with a worried tone, surprising his friends beside him.

you sniffle, “yeah .. the light rain caught to me yesterday ...” you chuckle, cringing at the sound of your hoarse voice.

“okay, i'll be right there.” sakura replied, suddenly ending the call.

“huh- what?” you were left shocked, looking at your phone. did you hear him correctly? he's coming over to your place?!

sakura rushed out pothos café, explaining to his friends — just as shocked as you were — that he had something to do before running out.

in just 5 minutes, your door bell rang. you hurriedly open the door to find sakura in front of your door, panting while holding a small bag.

“you actually cough came .. ” you were also out of breath, you sheepishly smile at him.

“wha- what are you doing out of bed, dumbass!?” he pulls in you to your apartment, closing the door behind him. his grip on your wrist is firm — but gentle.

he sits you on your bed, “stay here. i-i'll take care of you, okay?” his hands on your shoulders were trembly and he looks nervous, this is his first time taking care of someone and being inside your apartment, of course he was nervous.

he walks out your room and you here some clattering in your kitchen, you wanted to get up but you don't want to disobey your already stressed boyfriend.

you didn't want him to see you all vulnerable like this but you were glad that he came just to take care of you, seeing him all worried about you made your heart melt and also made you feel a bit better.

sakura comes back with a bowl of soup, water and some medicines. he tells you to eat, explaining that kotoha gave it to him before he ran out of the café.

“give kotoha my thanks then. ” your voice sounds weak and softer than usual.

sakura doesn't like seeing you being weak like this, it makes him want to protect you like your some kind of hurt cat.

sakura meant it when he said he'll take care of you since he went home at 6 am, never leaving your side. it was the next day and still early but he had classes and patrolling so you offered him to go now, after a lot of reassuring him that you're better now, he leaves.

sakura never carries any umbrellas with him, his body is used to getting drenched in rain anyways. but this changed when he saw how sick you were that day, so now, he always carries an umbrella so that in case you forget yours — which you often do — and it looks like it's going to rain, he'll give it to you.

he might not say that he loves you by his words, but his actions say otherwise.

n. this is self indulgent. i get sick very easily so i thought about sakura being worried about his sickly lover <3

t. @kyoghurts hi :3

[youkissedareaderinthedark]

Under the Weather

Synopsis: You’re sick. George’s sick. Someone else is probably going to get sick. It’s an interesting last race in Abu Dhabi

young female driver reader x 2023 F1 grid

A/N: this fic is pretty vague so i’m not going to give the reader a team or teammate, we just know that she’s a driver on the grid because that’s all we really need to know

. so

. you think you caught it in vegas

. it was colder than you were used to

. you barely got any sleep

. and even though you’re around hundreds of people every race weekend, las vegas felt more packed than a normal race would be

. and you were seated next to george, who’s been feeling sick for a few days at that point, for nearly all pre-race activities

. it was probably all of these combined that gave you a sore throat, stuffy nose, pounding headache, and persistent cough

. you knew the second you woke up thursday morning

. “it’s going to be a shitty weekend”

. the grid, however, did not know until thursday afternoon

. you came into the press conference room, bundled up in a long sleeve and hoodie, nose red with a scratchy voice

. you sit beside an amused lewis, resisting all urges to lay your head against the back of the couch and drift off

. “you okay y/n?”

. the only response he gets is a groan and small shake of the head

. “i’ll get you some tea when we’re done here love, you’ll be okay”

. lewis, who was always your favorite but now has new reasons to be favored, lets you rest your head against his shoulder and close your eyes while you all wait for the conference to begin

. word spreads by the end of the media day, and suddenly you have new reactions from the grid

. daniel walks through the paddock with you, never afraid of a little cough

. “lewis tells me you’ve been on your death bed over here. anything I can do?”

. he insist on giving you a hug and the recipe for chicken soup that he learned from his mum and now swears by

. max, who is afraid of a little cough, is the one who makes sure you’re not being harassed when trying to sleep

" max? who’s under the blanket-”

. “shush. she’s trying to sleep”

. “but who’s-”

. “I said shush”

. lando, a man who’s all too familiar with being clumsy, probably saves you a million times from walking into doorways, a drowsiness affect from the fever you keep insisting you don’t have

. he’ll keep a constant eye on you and hand on your shoulder as a precaution

. “let’s not go over there, that’s a wall”

. “y/n!”

. “mhm?” you’d say, eyes half closed with tiredness

. “that’s a door love, jeez, we should put a bell on you”

. carlos and charles, drivers who’ve had loads of experience taking care of sick younger siblings, make a team effort of ensuring you’re doing your best to get better

. “did you drink the water bottle I gave you?”

. “no”

. “did you drink anything today?”

. “no”

. “oh mon dieu you’re going to kill yourself like this”

. “just try to eat this okay? i know you’re not hungry amiga, but we have a race tomorrow, you need to eat something”

. “i got you more medicine, this one says it should take care of the cough and sneeze so you won’t have to worry about it during the race”

. and then there’s george, your sick partner in crime

. you two make a habit of trapping yourselves in one of your driver’s room

. half to prevent the sickness from spreading further, half to just be left alone

. you guys complain a lot

. take turns choosing movies to watch to pass the time

. reminding the other to take medicine, even though there’s a good chance that person probably hasn’t taken any medicine either

. and passing a bag of cough drops between each other

. as a teammate and friend, lewis tries to talk you two out of racing

. but neither budge

. you get into your car, nose still red and voice still scratchy

. and power through the race, just as you’d been taught to do

. george gets a podium and you get a good points finish, the best results you could’ve asked for considering the conditions

. and stumble out of your car once more, looking for a tissue and that chicken soup recipe

. you get checked on by multiple drivers, though the only response you’re able to give is a nod and thumbs up

. lewis accompanies you on your flight back home, and tries to help as much as you let him

. he feels a bit victorious when you say you wished you’d listen to him and not raced

. but the feeling is instantly replaced with sympathy for his friend, so he just nods and tells you to get some more rest

. after making sure you’re safe at home and surrounded by family and friends that swear on their hearts to take care of you, lewis leaves with congratulations on your season finish and wishes to get better

. you’re fine within a few days, you name the cause of your sickness “end of season fatiague” and ensure the drivers you made a full recovery by wednesday night

. so yeah

. it’s not fun at all to drive while you’re sick

. but it’s a bit easier when you have your friends looking out for you

short little f1 grid sick fic. let’s hope I didn’t just manifest myself a cold

[rr311]

❥# — 𝘐𝘯𝘧𝘰 fluff

☆ — 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 you ended up getting sick so deku takes care of you.

❣︎ — 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 hey guysss, I thought about this story literally the other day and decided to write it :3. hope you guys enjoyyy.

“ 𝗌𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 “ 𝖨𝖹𝖴𝖪𝖴 𝖬𝖨𝖣𝖮𝖱𝖨𝖸𝖠 𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍

#❤︎︎ — 𝖨𝖹𝖴𝖪𝖴 "your fever is coming down, that's good." he muttered placing down the temperature meter going to grab the wet cloth from the bucket, squeezing the remains out of it then replacing it with the warm towel giving you a new cold one. you sighed in satisfaction feeling the coldness on your head, "who knew you would have to take care of me?." you sniffled, with a airy chuckle hearing Izuku laugh a little placing the warm towel in the cold water, "you always take care of me when i'm sick. I should return the favor." growing up you were always taking care of him, he says you were an expert at it. you were always so gentle with him, whenever he got sick or hurt you were always there to take care of him. inko knew how very close you and Izuku were, smiling everytime you would come over with his favorite snacks and soup. you were basically like her daughter, you always came over after school, every weeknd you were over or he was over at your house, you guys even had sleepovers! she would always tease Izuku, about how cute you guys would. "you and y/n would be a such great couple!." she said excitedly as Izuku almost choked on his food as you laughed, his face turning red. “m-mom!.”

but you always thought about it. you and Izuku? one day? "I'm going to get us something eat, alright? I'll be back, promise." he held up his pinky as you smiled nodding your head, interlocking your pinky with his. he also smiled, getting up from the chair to walk out your room. as you waited, you were scrolling through your phone to pass by the time, you weren't supposed to be on it due to Izuku saying, "it'll make your head hurt even worse!." though you doubted it, you were bored :(. being sick was the worst thing that can happen to anyone. you hated it. the sniffling, the coughing, the constant headaches, etc. 10 minutes had went by and izuku came back with a tray of food, your plate being your favorite and his plate being his with two glasses of water, "I’m glad mina is a fast cook." he chuckled, placing the trey on your night stand, you hummed in agreement placing your phone down, slowly sitting up.

~

after you guys had eaten. you fell asleep with Izuku right beside you, he already took your guys plates back to the kitchen and came back to you sleeping already. he softly sighed, going to place his hand on your forehead, “at-least your fever calmed down.” he muttered taking his hand back but it was grabbed by yours feeling your grip ahold of his, “don’t go..Izuku.” you murmured in your sleep holding his hand with a tight grip making him softly smile relaxing “I’m not going anywhere.” you groaned holding him, slowly opening your eyes but they only fluttered back closed. “can we cuddle?.” you questioned with a mutter as Izuku’s face turned red. “c-cuddle? are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable!.” you hummed chuckling giving him a tired smile, “I’m sure.” he was still unwary about it but he finally gave in with a sigh, “ok.” you let go of his hand, slightly scooting back to give him room, feeling him slide into bed with you. he pulled the covers back down to cover you both as you instantly went to hold his waist placing your head on his chest. Izuku went hot not knowing where to place his hands, he gulped a little feeling nervous but slowly placed his hands on your back feeling you move closer. Izuku sighed relaxing as well, it was his first time ever cuddling with a girl. especially you. his childhood friend! but he does have to admit..his mom might be right, you and him? he softly smiled getting more comfortable, placing his arms more comfortably around you. It took a few minutes but he eventually started to fall asleep, warmth engulfing you both. maybe inko is right..

you guys would be a good couple

[buckyispunk]

Aloha

Aloha part one ~ Bucky Barnes x f!Reader (no use of Y/N), read part two here!

masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: You arrive at a Hawaiian resort for your ex's wedding and a man named Bucky buys you a drink. You proceed to spend the next day with him, getting to know him and his friends.

A/N: New series! There will probably be five or so parts, with much more smut, angst, and fluff to come :) let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list for this series!

Warnings: unwanted touching (not by Bucky), dom!bucky, unprotected PiV sex, creampie, spitting, choking, orgasm delay/denial, oral (f receiving), fingering, drinking, Bucky's got a filthy mouth

Word Count: 11k

Fucking Brock. You sit on the couch staring at the little cardstock rectangle in disbelief.

Join us in celebrating Brock and Marisssa’s special day! surrounded by hibiscus flowers and a tropical design. The flowery invitation theme makes sense when you read that the wedding is in Hawaii. 

You hadn’t seen Brock in years. Three, to be exact. It had been in the soup aisle of the grocery store.

You had been reaching for a can of tomato paste to make spaghetti to eat alone in your little apartment. You looked a mess, having stopped at the store on your way home from a long day of work. You heard him call your name - his nonchalant, egotistical voice recognizable anywhere. 

“Oh my god, how’ve you been? It’s been too long!” He had said, as if he had made any attempts to reach out to you - or had any desire to - since you had broken up. 

“Oh,” you turned around to face him, “fine, you?”

“I’m doing great! Just here to buy some soup for my girlfriend, she’s been under the weather lately.”

Not even a minute into conversation and he’d mentiioned his new girlfriend. You had just broken up two months before. You tried your best to keep the look of shock and sadness from your face. How had he moved on so quick? Did your almost four year relationship meant so little to him? 

You managed to give a small noncommittal smile and nod. He wasn’t paying enough attention to you to notice anyway, grabbing a couple of cans of chicken noodle soup and turning back the way he came. 

“We should get together and catch up sometime!” he had shouted over his shoulder as he walked away.

That was the last time you had seen him. It wasn’t like the two of you were on bad terms or anything. The break up had been civil - civil as a breakup can be, anyway. You and Brock had begun dating in your freshman year of college. One day, in the middle of you and Brock’s senior year, he sat you down and said he needed to talk to you. He said that you were great and he’d always have a special place in his heart for you, but he just couldn’t picture himself with you for the rest of his life - so there’s no point in wasting anymore time, as he had put it. To be honest, you didn’t disagree.

You had been unhappy towards the end of the relationship. You could tell that Brock was distancing himself and the two of you got in little fights almost every day. You knew it wasn’t going to work out, but it had still left a huge hole in your heart. Brock was a big part of your life every day for four years, then all of a sudden he was just gone. A big piece of you was missing and you had to rebuild it yourself. Turns out Brock rebuilt that piece with another girl. If he ever had a piece that needed rebuilding in the first place, that is. 

You really had wanted to stay friends with him after the breakup, or at least remain civil with him. He had never reached out after that day in the grocery store and you had no desire to reach out to him - you had healed yourself and decided you were better off without him. 

You sit on the couch running your fingers over the rough material, rereading the words over and over again, trying to make sense of it all. You really don’t care that Brock is getting married, it’s not like you want him back or anything. But, at the same time, you weren’t necessarily chomping at the bit to go watch him and his fiancee celebrate their special day. 

A vacation did sound nice, though. You’d always wanted to go to Hawaii. Plus, you figured some of you and Brock’s friends from college would be in attendance. The two of you had been in the same friend group when he asked you out. You lost touch with the friend group after the break up. You would see some of them in passing or in classes and share small talk, but you had stopped getting invitations to hang out with them. You weren’t one to hold a grudge, though, and it would be nice to see them again. 

You mull it over for a little while before deciding that it would be a good move on your part to go, show Brock that you were still on good terms with him and that him getting married doesn’t bother you. You could take a break from work and get some much-needed sun and relaxation. You RSVP and check no, you will not be bringing a plus one.  

The months leading up to the wedding follow the same, monotonous routine. Work, eat, sleep, repeat. Occasionally your coworkers would drag you out to the bar after work and you would go - desperate to feel some sort of belonging. Despite your efforts over the years, you had never gotten close with any of the girls at work. You got along with them okay, but you wouldn’t exactly call them your friends. Acquaintances was a more fitting term.

You do, however, have one best friend. The only issue is that she lives almost a thousand miles away. You had moved to New York for school and she had stayed back home in Illinois. You stay in contact with her and your family. Most days, talking to them makes you more homesick than anything else. You’d considered moving back more than once, but had ultimately decided against it each time - you’re scared to look like a failure. You don’t want to come running back home at the first signs of struggle. You want to prove to everyone back home that you can make it in the big city by yourself. 

As the days go by, you find yourself looking forward to the special day. Not because of the wedding, but because you’re ready to escape the numb hell that your life has become. The wedding is on a Friday. You’re flying in on Monday and leaving Sunday morning. Six nights at the tropical resort Brock and Marissa have picked. 

It’s the Sunday night before you leave. Your bags are packed and waiting by the door. Sleep comes easy, knowing that by this time tomorrow you’ll be drinking cocktailas at a pool-side bar, free from work stress and city traffic. Away from the city where you feel lonely among millions of people.

Usually when the ear-piercing, dread instilling sound of your alarm rings, you hit the snooze button and pull the covers tighter in attempt to hang on to your last moments of comfort and peace - or as close as you can get to that, these days. Today, however, is different. When you hear the all-too familiar noise coming from your phone, it leaves you with a feeling of excitement rather than depression. 

You sit up, smile on your face, and get ready for the day. After showering and putting on your comfiest plane clothes, you grab your bags and head outside. You hail a taxi and can’t even bring yourself to be upset when he doesn’t offer to help you with your luggage. You smile the whole way to the airport.

I repeat, flight DL4567 is delayed by two hours. Boarding will begin at 12:10.

The universe has found a way to put you in a bad mood again. You’re certain whatever higher power there is had sent this sudden thunderstorm just for you. You look at your phone to check the time - 9:45. You had been sitting here for an hour already. The hard chair is starting to get uncomfortable, so you decide to get your second cup of coffee for the morning. You stand and grab your luggage, making your way to the end of the Starbucks line. You order your go-to drink and some breakfast.

Once you get your coffee and food you find a little table to sit at and pull out your book. You find yourself enthralled in your book and the time flies. A voice over the loudspeaker breaks you out of your trance. 

Flight DL4567 now boarding. 

You snap your book shut and clean up your table. You grab your bags and head back to your gate. After waiting in line for a little while, you finally take your seat on the plane. You put in your earbuds and watch the grey clouds outside - thankful you got a window seat. By the time the plane starts moving, you’re smiling again and counting down the time until your arrival. 

You spend the first five hours of your flight reading and watching TV - you’re pleasantly surprised to see that they have your favorite show. Sometime after they serve lunch, you fall asleep. When you wake up, there’s only two hours left until arrival. 

You watch the fluffy clouds outside your window and find that time passes quickly when you think about all the things you want to do in Hawaii. You also find that the time passes impossibly slow when you let your mind drift to New York and all your responsibilities. How is it that you haven’t even landed in Hawaii yet and you’re already dreading returning back home?

You see the beaches and the luscious green that fill the ground beneath you. You take in all the sights as best you can as you get closer and closer to the ground, preparing for landing. Your ears hurt slightly from the pressure change, but you’ve got other things on your mind.

After waiting some more to get your luggage, you finally manage to get on a shuttle and you’re on your way to the resort. You watch the mountains in the distance and the palm trees on the drive. You’re listening to your playlist through your earbuds and this is the happiest you’ve felt in a while. You could get used to this, you think. 

Your jaw drops when you pull up to the hotel. The huge building is right on the beach. Sure, that’s what it had said online, but the real thing it’s even more staggering in person than it had been in the pictures. The sun beats down on you as soon as you step out of the shuttle, but there’s a nice breeze that makes it enjoyable. A worker hands you your bags from the back of the bus and you thank him. You roll them inside the resort, eyes widening even more when you see the inside of the place. You can’t wait to get your bags in your room and explore. 

The receptionist is nice as can be and tells you to enjoy your stay as she hands you your key cards - like you’ll be needing more than one. You wheel your luggage into the elevator and press the number five. You’re astonished by the view when you step into your room. Your balcony faces the beach and you can see mountains in the distance. The evening sun is still shining bright and there’s not a cloud in the sky. 

It’s just after seven o’clock by the time you’re done changing. You head down to the main floor and set off to explore. There’s a spa, an indoor and outdoor bar, a pool, a hot tub, a gym, and a restaurant. You decide to hit the outdoor bar and enjoy the last of the daylight. 

You slide into a barstool. The warmth of the sun and the refreshing sea-side breeze, along with a couple cocktails, quickly put you into a relaxed headspace. You’d been looking forward to this for so long and it’s definitely all you’d imagined it would be. 

The resort is pretty full, but not to the point where it gets on your nerves. The bar is occupied by a group of girls who look a little younger than you and some married couples.

You’re just finishing your second drink when something catches your attention - a loud, boisterous laugh coming from the other end of the bar. You lean forward to see a group of guys you hadn’t noticed before. The laugh comes from a man with chocolatey, smooth skin. He’s sitting with a gigantic blond man who is currently looking down at the bartop and shaking his head, a half smile on his face. The last man, though, is what makes you do a double take. 

He’s got dark, fluffy hair. Though his stubble tries to hide it, you notice his sharp jawline. His shoulders are broad and his biceps stretch the sleeve of his t-shirt. He’s smiling, pearly white teeth on display. You find that you’re still watching him as he brings a bottle of beer to his lips and takes a swig. 

You’re only snapped out of your trance when he looks in your direction. You quickly divert your eyes, but you aren’t quick enough. He catches your gaze for the briefest of seconds. You might be imagining things, but you swear you see the corner of his mouth curl up into a smile before he looks back to his friends - still laughing and yelling about something.

The sun has finally set and you decide on having one more of the fun, tropical drinks before heading up to your room. 

You prepare to flag down the bartender, surprised when you find him already stopping in front of you, one of the cocktails you’d been drinking in hand. 

“Courtesy of the gentleman at the other end of the bar.”

You quickly thank the bartender and look back to the other end of the bar where the group of guys had been sitting. They’re the only men sitting at that end of the bar.

The brunette is already looking at you. He gives you a million dollar smile and shoots you a wink before he turns, following his friends back into the hotel.

You sit in shock for a solid minute, replaying the wink over and over in your mind. Sure you’ve got a solid buzz and you haven’t been laid in a long time, but even if that wasn’t the case, you’re sure it would’ve been just as sexy. You’re only slightly ashamed of the small amount of wetness you feel in your panties.

You down the free drink and head back into the hotel. On your way to the elevator, you notice the man that’s been occupying your thoughts for the last 30 or so minutes standing at the reception desk. His hair is wet and his clothes are soaking through. 

You quickly make your way to the elevator and repeatedly press the up arrow. You’re not sure where the sudden embarrassment is coming from, but your cheeks are red and you don’t want him to see you right now. 

Unfortunately for you, you hear footsteps behind you and turn to find the same piercing blue eyes you had met across the bar staring back at you. 

“Friends stole all the towels out of my room,” he tells you, holding up a stack of fresh ones.

Well that explains why he was at the reception desk, also why he’s soaking wet. 

“Oh,” you manage a small chuckle as you look down at your feet. 

You can’t help but feel embarrassed when he’s looking at you so intently, like you’re the only thing on his mind right now. It doesn’t help that he’s one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen and he’s talking to you of all people. 

You force yourself to meet his eyes again, “Thank you, um, for the drink earlier,” you manage in a somewhat steady voice. 

 “Course, doll,” another smile. 

The elevator doors finally open and he extends his arm, “After you.”

He follows you into the elevator and presses the number five. 

“What floor are you on?” he turns, waiting for your response.

“Same as you, apparently,” you smile up at him. 

You weren’t close enough to tell before, but he’s tall. At least six feet. 

“I’m Bucky, by the way. Sorry ‘bout leaving before I could introduce myself earlier, but my friends were being a pain in the ass - pardon my language.”

You tell him your own name and he holds out his hand. You put your hand in his and expect him to shake it, but what he does next surprises you.

He gently raises your hand to his mouth and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“Pleasure to meet you,” he rolls your name off his tongue, still holding your hand.

You try your best not to make it obvious that you’re swooning over this man. Heat returns to your core at the feeling of his rough hand engulfing yours. 

The elevator bell dings, letting you know you’ve reached your floor. Bucky carefully drops your hand as the doors open. The two of you step out of the elevator and he stops.

“I’ll be seeing you around,” he says, holding eye contact with you.

“I hope so,” your buzz encourages you. 

You smile at each other and when he turns to head to his room, you do the same. 

“Goodnight, doll,” he shouts over his shoulder before disappearing into his room.

You can’t keep the smile off of your face the rest of the night. You’re in fucking Hawaii. A man straight out of your fantasies had bought you a drink, and he plans on seeing you around. You know it’s too soon to be thinking this, but maybe you’ll find a more unconventional way to relieve stress this week. 

After you wake up and get dressed for the day, you head down to get breakfast from the buffet. You load your plate and find a table. You’re in the middle of chewing a bite of waffle when you see Brock. Him and a woman, you assume it’s Marissa, are grabbing plates and getting into the breakfast line. 

Brock doesn’t notice you until after him and the woman have gotten their own food. You watch him as he scans the room for a table, his eyes eventually landing on you. 

He calls out your name and leans down to tell the woman something. 

“So glad you’re here! Are these seats taken?” he asks, not waiting for a response as he sits down, leaving the woman to follow. 

“Go ahead,” you say. You’re somewhat glad to have some company, even if it’s a little awkward.

“This is my fiancée, Marissa.”

“So nice to meet you,” she offers her hand and you shake it. 

Breakfast is filled with awkward conversation. You and Brock catch up a little bit, telling each other what you’re up to these days. After a few minutes, Brock pulls out his phone and doesn’t put it away for the rest of the meal. You talk to Marissa about the wedding planning and do your best to seem interested as she talks about flower arrangements for ten minutes. 

Eventually, conversation lulls and you take the opportunity to get up. 

“So nice catching up with you, Brock. And nice to meet you Marissa!” you say, heading to your room.

You decide on heading to the pool today and change into your bikini. It’s a black set that shows off your body without being too skimpy. You throw some clothes over it and grab your book before stepping out of your room. 

Before you reach the elevator, you hear your name being called. You turn and see Bucky standing by his door.

“Where are you headed to?” 

“I’m gonna go lay by the pool for a bit, wanna join me?” you answer, not sure where your courage is coming from.

Bucky grins as he responds, “Nothing else I’d rather do.”

You feel your face heat up.

“Lemme put some trunks on and I’ll meet you down there?”

“Sounds great, Bucky,” you nod at him before slipping into the elevator.

Once at the pool, you grab two towels. By some miracle, you manage to find two empty lounge chairs together. You set your things down and lay the towels over the chairs. You strip out of your clothes, leaving you clad in only the bikini, and apply sunscreen before laying down. You put your earbuds in and close your eyes and bask in the sun. 

Maybe it's the sunshine, maybe it’s the fresh ocean air, or maybe it’s something else entirely, but you’re feeling the happiest you’ve been in a long time. You notice that instead of your usual RBF, you've been smiling almost constantly since your arrival.

When you open your eyes, you see Bucky standing a few feet away from you, steel blue eyes raking up and down your body. 

“Oh, Bucky,” you pause your music, blush returning to your cheeks, “how long have you been standing there?”

“Shit,” he says your name, realizing he’d been caught staring, “I swear I just got here like ten seconds ago. I’m so sorry. Feel free to revoke my invitation because I was being a creep,” he grimaces, expecting you to be mad at him.

The way he looked at you was different than the way most men would look at you in a bikini, though. It wasn’t gross or pervy. It looked like he was genuinely just appreciating your body, rather than plotting how to get you into his bed. And he didn't make any disgusting comments or cat call you like other guys have in the past. Besides, you'd be lying if you said you didn’t get a boost of confidence from the way he looked at you.  

“Hmm,” you put your finger on your chin, pretending to mull it over, “I’ll let you sit down, but only if you buy me another drink first.”

That familiar grin spreads across his face again. 

“You got yourself a deal. You want another one of those gross cocktails you were drinking last night?”

“Um, excuse you, Mr. I’m too manly to drink cocktails, but I’ll have you know those were delicious.”

He chuckles and promises to be back shortly before walking toward the bar. 

You play your music and wait for him to return. After a couple minutes, he returns holding a colorful, fruit filled cocktail and a beer bottle.

Bucky takes his seat next to you, beer bottle in hand. He lets out a sigh of relief as he lays back in his chair. 

“So, not to be rude, but is Bucky your real name?”

“My full name is James Buchanan Barnes, if you must know. All my friends and family call me Bucky.” 

You nod and take a sip of your drink. 

“Man, it’s hot,” Bucky takes a drink from his bottle before setting it down and reaching down to grab the bottom of his shirt. You find it’s your turn to stare as he pulls it over his head, exposing tan skin and rippling muscle. Bucky gives you a cocky smirk when he notices you staring with your drink frozen midair, on its way to your mouth. 

You quickly avert your eyes and feel the familiar dusting of pink return to your cheeks. 

“Like what you see, doll?”

You simply shake your head at his teasing and smile, flustered as can be.

“So what do you do for work, Bucky?”

“Well I was in the army until a couple years ago. Now I’m a mechanic, I got my own shop with my buddies.” 

You make a mental note to thank the army for mandating PT as you watch a drop of sweat roll down Bucky’s washboard abs.  

“Is that who you’re here with?”

“Yeah. Me and Steve have known each other since we were little, actually. We met Sam when we joined up and after we all got out we opened up shop together,” a reminiscent smile plays upon his lips. “Those two knuckleheads are basically family. We decided to take a trip to celebrate the shop’s one year anniversary.”

“Speaking of family, do you have any?”

“My, uh,” his brows furrow, “my dad died when I was little, but I have a mom and a sister who’s a little younger than me. About your age, probably.” 

His expression returns to normal in a split second, “Enough about me. Do you have family?”

“Yeah, but I moved away for college and never went back home.”

“Where’s home?”

“Ohio. I live in New York now.”

Bucky seems almost excited at this bit of information. 

“Is that so?” he raises an eyebrow. “I live in Brooklyn.”

“Me too,” you share a smile.

Needing a break from the sweltering sun, you stand and grab your drink. 

“I'm getting in the pool, care to join?”

Bucky wordlessly stands and follows you to the pool, smiling. You walk down the steps, drink in hand. Bucky, however, stops at the edge of the pool and watches you. 

“You coming in or what?”

“In a minute, doll.”

Surprisingly, the pool isn’t that crowded. It’s huge, so the people that are in the pool are able to spread out and stay out of each other’s way. 

It’s only once you’re standing in the pool, water up to your bikini top, that Bucky decides to enter. 

Via cannonball. 

You register what he’s about to do as he jumps in the air and wraps his hands around his knees and you yell at him, Barnes don’t you dare! but it’s too late. Next thing you know, you’re drenched. Your hair and face are soaked and there’s pool water in your drink.

Bucky emerges from under the water, smirk dancing across his lips. His expression falters for a second when he notices your angry expression, but you can’t keep the smile from your face when he shakes his hair out like a wet dog. 

“You ruined my drink.”

“I’ll buy you another,” he says, taking the drink out of your hands and setting it on the edge of the pool. 

He walks closer and closer to you until you’re just inches apart. He tentatively moves his hands under the water until they’re resting on your bare hips. His grip is soft, barely there. He’s giving you a chance to reject his touch, but all you do is gently move into his hands. 

His grip becomes more firm and his eyes light up with a glint of mischief. Before you know what hit you, you’re being lifted out of the water, Bucky’s muscles flexing as he raises you up. Before you have a chance to stop him - as if you’d stand any chance against his nearly super human physique - he launches you back into the water. 

When you emerge from the water, you see Bucky nearly doubled over laughing at the angry expression on your face. You really do try your best to be mad at him, but his shimmering smile and the crinkles in the corners of his eyes makes it hard. 

“What. The. Hell,” you make your way back to him and move to smack his chest. Bucky has quick reflexes, though, and you find that your hand is trapped between one of his own and his muscular pec. 

“That was revenge for the way you’ve been staring at me all morning when I’m unable to do anything about it.”

You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at his flirty words in an effort to keep up your mad facade.

“What if I drowned Bucky?” you deadpan.

“Wouldn’t let that happen,” he says matter-of-factly. 

“Well, you’re still a jerk.”

“A jerk who’s talking to the prettiest girl in this resort,” he counters with a shit-eating grin.

Bucky drops his hand and, instead of moving yours away, you wrap both your arms around the back of his neck. 

“Not for much longer if you pull another stunt like that, Barnes.”

“Sorry, doll,” the amused grin he’s still sporting makes you doubt his apology.

His hands return to your hips and he pulls you closer. He’s a fair bit taller than you and you have to tilt your head up to look at him. The sun is reflected in his ocean blue eyes and water drips down his face, getting caught in the scruff spanning his jaw. 

Bucky leans down and lifts one of his hands to gently grab your chin between two long fingers. He softly directs you toward his own face. You can’t stop your eyes from flicking down to his pink, pillowy lips. You close the rest of the distance on your own. 

Bucky is quick to kiss you back after your lips meet his. He caresses your lips with his own and he moves his hand to the back of your neck, pressing you against him harder. He swipes his tongue across your lips and you part them for him. You let out a small moan into his mouth and he gently takes your bottom lip between his teeth.

He pulls away, letting your lip free. You feel a throb in between your legs when he gives your neck a quick squeeze before letting his hand fall back to his own person. 

“Fuck, doll. Don’t make me throw you into the water again.” He waits until he thinks you’re not looking before reaching down to adjust his swim trunks.

“You started it,” you reply as you make your way to the steps and climb out of the pool. “I need another drink,” you make sure to sway your hips as you walk back toward the bar, not needing to look back to know he’s watching. 

You lean against the bar and are waiting to be helped when you suddenly feel a hand on your hip. You turn around and expect to see Bucky, only to be met with the sight of a man you’ve never seen before.

“Can I help you?” you remove the man’s hand from you.

“Nice bikini, baby. Lemme buy you a drink,” the slur in his words and his unsteady stance letting you know that he’s certainly not sober.

“No, thanks,” you turn back to the bar, making it clear you’re not interested. 

The man either doesn’t get the hint or decides to keep trying anyway, because you feel both his hands land on your hips this time. He steps closer to you, his chest pressed up against your back.

Just as you’re preparing to throw an elbow into the man’s ribs, you feel his hands being ripped off of you. You turn around to see the man falling to the ground, Bucky standing over him. 

“Get up,” Bucky demands, looking down.

The man, surprisingly, manages to get back on his feet and gives Bucky a death glare. Before he has a chance to give Bucky a piece of his mind, as you’re sure he was about to, Bucky grabs him by the collar of his shirt and leans into the man’s ear. He says something too quiet for you to hear and emphasizes it by using his grip on the man’s shirt to shake him. A few people around you are starting to stare.

The man’s face goes slack and he nods in response to whatever Bucky had said. Bucky shoves the man away and he nearly falls to the ground again. Bucky stares him down as he turns and walks away. Once he’s sure the man isn’t coming back, he returns his attention to you. Thankfully, everyone’s attention seems to be back to whatever they were doing before the commotion.

“You okay, doll? I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s not your fault, Bucky,” you give him a half smile to let him know you’re okay, just sick of men thinking they have a right to touch you. “I’m okay.”

“You still want another drink? Told you I’d buy it,” he goes to flag down the bartender. 

You gently rest your hand on his bicep and he looks at you “Thank you, Buck,” you hope your genuine expression conveys that you’re not just thanking him for the drink.

He gives you a curt nod, “Don’t mention it. Just trying to be a gentleman.”

A few minutes later, armed with another round of drinks, you and Bucky are making your way back to the lounge chairs.

“So where are your friends today?” you inquire.

“Finally got those punks outta my hair for a little while. They went to hike up some mountain. Or maybe it was a volcano, I really don’t know.”

“You didn’t want to go with them?”

“I-uh,” he rubs a hand across the back of his neck, “let’s just say heights aren’t really my thing,” an adorable redness spreads across his face.

You nod, deciding to spare him any further embarrassment from teasing. The two of you sit down on the sides of your chairs, facing each other. 

“So why are you here?”

You figured the question would arise eventually, but you had been dreading telling him the reason. It just sounds embarrassing to admit that you’re attending your ex’s wedding. 

“I’m actually here for a wedding.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s getting married? Not you, I hope,” Bucky chuckles at his own joke but stops when you don’t so much as crack a smile. His face drops and he stares at you for a second before you notice his expression.

“No. God- no. I’m not engaged, Bucky. Very much single. It’s my ex’s wedding.”

His eyebrows shoot up, “Oh, wow,” you can tell he’s unsure how to respond.

“I’ve hardly talked to him since the breakup a few years ago. We’re on good terms, though. Actually ate breakfast with him and his fiancee this morning.”

“Well that’s good, I guess. That you’re on good terms, I mean. Why did you choose to come? Sorry if I’m being nosy, you dont have to answer.” “No, it’s fine. It’s a little weird, I get it. For the most part, it was a good excuse to take a vacation and hopefully see some old friends. It’s not like I still have feelings for Brock or anything, so I really couldn’t care less that he’s getting married. His fiancee seems nice enough. And things went okay this morning, so I’m hopeful that things won’t be too awkward at the wedding. Plus there’ll be an open bar at the reception,” you crack a smile.

Bucky listens and nods along. “Well I hope everything goes okay. I’m certainly not complaining that you’re here,” he gives you a soft smile.

Sunbathing next to Bucky and sharing laughter-filled conversation leaves you with such a serene feeling that you physically feel lighter and your mind feels clearer. You decide in that moment that this vacation was definitely worth it, you can feel your mental health improving by the hour.

At one point, you doze off and are woken to Bucky’s hand gently shaking your shoulder. You open your eyes and see him leaning over you, radiant smile on his face. 

“Probably shouldn’t stay out here too long or you’ll burn to a crisp.”

You sit up and nod, “Good point.”

You and Bucky get dressed and gather your things before depositing your towels in the proper bin and heading inside the hotel. Once you and Bucky reach your floor, you stand and shuffle your feet, unsure of what to do next. Bucky sets a hand on your arm and you look up at him. 

“My friends and I are going out to dinner tonight and, I’m sorry if this seems weird, but would you want to come with us? You don’t have to say yes, just thought I’d throw it out there,” he has a nervous look on his face and he chews on his lip while he waits for an answer.

You couldn’t be more thrilled at the fact that he still wants to spend more time with you, even though you’d been together a large chunk of the day already. You want to say yes, both because you have no other plans and because you’d love to spend more time with the man in front of you, but you don’t want to seem overly eager. 

“Yeah, I’d like that. Only if you’re sure your friends won’t mind, that is.”

Bucky looks almost relieved and gives you a boyish grin. “Nah, Steve and Sam will be fine. I’m sure you guys will get along great.”

“Okay, Buck, looking forward to it.”

“Can’t wait, doll. I’ll meet you here at seven.”

Bucky seems to hesitate for a moment, but then leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips, which you happily return. He pulls back and heads off to his room.

“See you tonight, sweetheart.”

You decide you have a bit of time before you need to start getting ready for dinner, so you grab your book and sit out on the balcony. You find that you have a hard time focusing on the words in front of you, though. The ocean waves and palm trees blowing in the breeze paired with the distant sounds of laughter and music coming from below makes for a pleasant distraction. Before you know it, it’s 6:45 and you scramble to get back inside and start getting dressed. 

It isn’t until you’re searching through your clothes that you realize you don’t know where you’re going for dinner or how to dress. You only packed three dresses, a sundress, the dress you’re wearing to the wedding, and the one you decide on for tonight.

The black dress comes down to your knees with a slit up the thigh. It’s tight and shows off your curves. The back is open, with straps crossing in the center of your shoulder blades. The cut in the front is low enough that it shows off your cleavage while maintaining a classy enough appearance. 

You decide to dress it up with heels - also black. They’re only a couple inches tall, so you can still walk in them somewhat comfortably. You’re thankful that you packed a decent selection of jewelry and throw on some silver earrings and a necklace.

You take a quick look at yourself in the mirror and can’t help but smile - damn you look good. You grab your clutch and open your door. You nearly walk into Bucky as you step into the hallway. 

Bucky is wearing tight grey dress pants with a snug-fitting short sleeve black button up. The first few buttons of his shirt are undone, giving you a peek of the toned chest hiding beneath. He’s paired the outfit with a black belt and matching shoes. He speaks before you have a chance to compliment him.

“Doll,” he looks you up and down, eyes wide, “wow. You look gorgeous.”

You feel yourself flush as you thank him. 

“You look really good too, Buck. Where’s Steve and Sam?”

“I told them to wait downstairs for us. Wanted to prepare you for them. They can be a bit,” he pauses, searching for the right word, “much, sometimes. I told them to be on their best behavior tonight. They just have a way of embarrassing people, Sam especially. I’m sure they’ll be teasing me nonstop, so just ignore anything they say.”

You chuckle lightly, “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

You and Bucky step into the elevator and take turns sneaking glaces at each other. Just before you reach the ground floor, Bucky leans over you, effectively trapping you between him and the elevator wall. Even in your heels, he has to lean down to be eye level with you. “I mean it, doll, you look stunning,” his eyes search yours, “Can I kiss you?”

You respond by closing the distance between the two of you. He reaches up and places a hand on the back of your head, holding you to him. The feel of his soft lips on yours makes you forget where you are. All too soon, the elevator door is opening and before you and Bucky have a chance to break away from each other, you hear a whistle.

“Damn, Barnes! Moving quick!” 

Bucky quickly steps away from you but stays in front of you, shielding you while you take a second to collect yourself. 

“Shut it, Sam,” Bucky says sternly. You don’t miss the red that creeps up the back of his neck. Nor do you miss how his tight pants do wonders for his ass.

After a second you step out from behind Bucky and extend a hand to the man, deciding to play it off.

“So you must be Sam,” you introduce yourself as he shakes your hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Steve responds when you shake his hand.

Steve and Sam lead the way out of the resort and you trail behind with Bucky. 

“We heard about this place some locals recommended that’s supposed to be really good. We’re gonna take a taxi there. That okay with you?”

“Sounds great,” you smile up at him.

The four of you wait in front of the resort for the taxi. 

“So,” Steve says your name, “you really spent all day with Bucky and he hasn’t made a fool of himself yet?”

“Whoa whoa whoa, I never said that. He’s lucky I’m even here right not after he threw me into the pool earlier. Although he did almost get into a fist fight defending me, so I guess it cancels out.”

Sam gives Bucky a grin, “Attaboy.”

“When me and Buck were younger, I used to get myself into all kinds of trouble and Bucky would have to end up kicking some dude’s ass for me almost daily,” Steve reminisces.

Bucky huffs and nods his head, “Punk dragged me into all kinds of trouble. Believe it or not, he wasn’t always this big. Needed to help him out or he woulda ended up bleeding out in an alley somewhere in Brooklyn.”

Steve’s cheeks heat up, but you have trouble picturing the man in front of you as anything other than he is now - huge and intimidating. 

After a couple minutes of getting to know Steve and Sam a little bit, the taxi arrives. It’s a five seater car, Steve sits in the front with the driver and you, Bucky, and Sam climb into the back. Bucky sits in between you and Sam. The car is plenty roomy enough, but Bucky makes sure to sit close enough that his thigh is pressed up against yours. The drive is short and Steve pays the driver when you arrive. Everyone gets out of the car. Bucky offers you his elbow and you link your arm in his. He leads the four of you into the building.

“Hi, we have a reservation for Barnes.”

The hostess leads you out back to the outdoor seating and your jaw drops. The palm tree surrounded patio is right on the beach and you have a perfect view of the sun setting on the water. Fairy lights and tiki torches give the place a soft glow. A live band plays soft Hawaiian music on a stage. 

Once you reach your table, the hostess sets down menus and silverware, before heading back inside. Bucky unlinks his arm from yours and he pulls out a chair for you. Before you sit, you turn to him.

“Bucky, this place is beautiful.”

“Glad you like it, darling.”

You sit and Bucky takes the seat next to you. By the time you snap out of your awestruck trance, Sam and Steve are both holding menus and arguing about something. You go to pick up a menu and notice Bucky’s eyes trained on you. He gives you a smile before looking down at his own menu. 

The waitress comes to take drink orders and the three men all order whiskey. You decide to get something other than a fruity cocktail.

“I’ll have the same,” you say when the server looks to you. 

You notice the way all three of their eyebrows jump at your choice. The waitress leaves and Bucky gently sets a hand just above your knee. He turns to look at you, as if asking for permission and you give him a reassuring smile. Conversation flows and when the waitress returns with the drinks, Sam and Steve immediately take a sip of theirs. Bucky’s eyes fall on you as you raise the glass to your lips. You keep eye contact with him as you take a drink, holding a straight face. You see of flash of something dark flash in his eyes and he moves his hand higher up your thigh and gives it a firm squeeze. 

You continue to read the menu and decide on seafood - you have to, you’re in Hawaii - and so does everyone else at the table. It is the restaurant’s specialty, after all. By the time the waitress comes to take your order, the four of you are all getting along great.

“So you guys all work on cars, huh?” 

“And bikes,” Sam nods at you.

“Do you guys all have motorcycles?” you glance around the table.

“Yeah, we do,” Bucky confirms.

You can easily picture him leather-clad, thick thighs straddling a Harley and his hand resting on the throttle. The thought makes you clench your thighs together and, based on the way Bucky’s thumb begins to rub circles into your thigh and he smirks at you, you assume he notices. 

“So what do you have planned for the rest of the week?” Steve questions you, oblivious to Bucky’s hand on you underneath the table.

“Well I’m going snorkeling tomorrow. I also want to hit the beach, maybe take a surf lesson. Horseback riding and hiking sounds fun too, though. What all have you guys done?”

“Well,” Sam starts, “we just got in yesterday, so we haven’t really done much yet.”

“Oh, so you guys got here the same day I did, then. When are you guys leaving?”

“Saturday, how about you?” Bucky answers you. 

“Sunday morning.”

“I’m sure you’ll be sick of Bucky by then,” Sam chortles.

Thinking about spending the rest of the week with Bucky puts a smile on your face and you hope he wants to spend more time with you, too. Eventually, the food comes and you all dig in. It’s so delicious that you’re not even mad about how expensive it was. Bucky lets out a groan of delight as he takes his first bite. 

“This is so good, doll. You want to try?” 

You nod and he raises his fork to your lips. He feeds you a bite of his food and you agree, it is delicious. You pull your attention away from Bucky just in time to see Sam whispering something into Steve’s ear, to which Steve chortles and nods.

“What are you guys talking about?” Bucky returns his attention to his friends.

“Nothing, man,” Steve dismisses him.

Bucky shoots them a warning look but drops it. 

The rest of the meal is filled with stories from their time in the army and Steve informs you that Bucky was a sergeant. You’re thankful that they don’t pressure you with too many questions about your boring life back in the city. The conversation flows easy and after a couple more rounds of drinks, the four of you are laughing so hard that you’re drawing attention from other tables. When everyone finishes eating, you excuse yourself to the bathroom and find your waitress. You give her your credit card, insisting that she charges the bill to your card.

You’d been having a great time with Bucky and his friends so far and you wanted to thank them for inviting you to have dinner with them. They had been so welcoming to you and have made your trip less lonely, even if only for one night. You return to the table.

When the waitress comes back to your table, she returns your credit card to you and the three men share a confused look.

Bucky cocks his head at you, “Did you pay for yourself already, doll? I was going to.”

“She actually covered the whole table,” the server informs them before leaving.

“Wait, what? You paid for us all?” Steve asks in disbelief.

Sam looks to you, waiting for an answer. Bucky just looks at you, brows furrowed. 

“Yeah. I just wanted to thank you guys for being so inviting. I enjoyed hanging out with you all tonight,” you look down at the table, feeling almost as if you’d done something wrong. 

Sam says your name, “That was really unnecessary, but thank you. We enjoyed your company. We get sick of each other, it was nice to have you join us. I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah,” Steve concurs, “I’m glad you could come. You really didn’t have to do that, but thank you, sincerely.”

“It’s not a big deal, guys. It was no problem.”

You turn to look at Bucky. He’s still in the same position - eyes trained on you and brows furrowed. You worry you’ve done something wrong and gently reach between the two of you and take his hand in yours. He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze and finally speaks. 

“Thank you,” you can tell there’s more he wants to say, though. Your group stands and heads to the front to wait for another taxi. After you step out the front doors, Bucky softly grabs your arm, holding you back. Steve and Sam continue walking. 

“Thank you for paying, I really appreciate the gesture. But I invited you tonight because I enjoy spending time with you and I wanted you to meet my friends. You shouldn’t have had to pay for your own dinner tonight, let alone everyone else’s. I do appreciate it, though, and I know Steve and Sam did too,” he gives you a sincere look and you sheepishly look down at the ground. He lifts his hand to cup your face and tilts it up to him, forcing you to make eye contact. “But all that being said, don’t you dare try and pull that again,” he says in a more authoritative tone.

You feel a wetness forming in your panties at the soft yet demanding tone he uses. You’re too shocked at the sudden dominance that you can’t bring yourself to do anything but nod up at him. 

“Good girl,” he praises in a low voice.

“You guys coming or what?” you hear Sam’s voice call.

You hadn’t even realized that taxi had arrived. Bucky leans down and presses a kiss to your lips before leading you to the car with a hand on the small of your back. Bucky sits inbetween you and Sam again and rests a hand on your thigh, dangerously close to slipping underneath the hem of your dress that had ridden halfway up your thighs. All you can focus on the whole car ride back to the resort is the feel of Bucky’s calloused hands on your leg and the pulsing at the apex of your thighs.

After what feels like hours, the cars pulls to a stop in front of the resort and you step out of car, followed by Bucky, who places his hand back on you immediately after he gets out. Steve and Sam make conversation, Bucky occasionally making a noncommittal grunt in response. After the elevator brings all of you to the fifth floor, Steve and Sam say goodnight and thank you again for dinner. You don’t miss the way Bucky’s hand tightens around your hip when they mention you paying for dinner. You say goodnight to them and they look at Bucky, probably expecting him to say goodnight and follow them back to their rooms. 

You’re not quite sure what you expect Bucky to do, but all you know is that the tension is thicker than Bucky’s biceps that are currently straining against his shirt sleeves.

“I’ll catch up with you guys in a little bit,” he tells his friends without taking his eyes off you.

“Okayyy,” Steve drags out the word as him and Sam turn and walk away, muttering and laughing to themselves.

Once you and Bucky are alone in the hall, he gently backs you up against the wall. He leaves one hand on your hips and tangles the other in your hair. He pulls you into a kiss that you fervently reciprocate. You’re sure that your panties are soaked at this point. You clench your thighs together, desperate for some friction. Bucky spreads your legs with his knee and slots his thigh against your center, forcing your dress to rise up. You moan into his mouth at the relief and buck your hips into him, your drenched underwear are dragging across his pants and you’re sure they’ll leave a dark spot from your arousal. 

Bucky pulls away from the kiss, but pushes his thigh harder against you. He leans down to whisper in your ear. “Dirty fuckin’ girl,” his voice is filled with lust, “Rutting up against my thigh in the middle of the hallway, skirt up so anyone can see how soaked your panties are for me.”

You whimper into Bucky’s ear. It turns you on to hear such filthy things coming from his usually polite mouth.

“Please, Bucky,” you beg, desparate for release.

“Please what, babydoll? Tell me what you need,” he demands.

He presses his bulge into your stomach and you can’t string together a sentence.

“I know, honey. You just wanna come, huh?” he looks down at you with a pitying expression and you nod your head so hard you get dizzy, too fuzzy-headed to care how desperate you look. He chuckles at you, “Say it. Tell me you need me to take care of you.”

“Please, Bucky! Make me come, take care of me. Just do something, please!” you sound absolutely wrecked and the groan Bucky lets out while he rocks his hips into you lets you know he gets off on it. 

“Fuck. Unlock your door, princess,” he tells you, pulling away and waiting by your door.

You’re surprised at how quickly you manage to dig you key card out of your purse and open the door in your aroused state. As soon as the door is open, Bucky grabs you and spins you around to face him.

“Jump,” he orders.

You drop throw your purse onto the table and wrap your arms around Bucky’s neck before jumping. He catches you by the backs of your thighs and effortlessly carries you to the bed, peppering kisses along your face and neck the whole way.

He throws you onto the bed and pulls off your shoes, placing a kiss to each of your shins. He then flips you onto your stomach and unties your dress. The way he manhandles you so easily sends a fresh gush of arousal to your core. He helps you shimmy out of your dress as he kicks off his shoes. You’re left in only your panties and he takes in the sight of your practically naked body and groans. He uses one hand to undo his belt and uses the other to reach down and palm your breast. 

“Goddamn, babydoll. No bra?” 

You don’t have the mental capacity to explain that you wouldn’t have been able to wear one with the open back dress, settling instead for reaching up and pulling him down by his collar until he’s straddling your hips. He leans back and unbuttons his shirt, exposing his broad chest and defined abs one button at a time, throwing it to the floor when he’s done. He has a dark trail of hair leading down into his dress pants where you can see the large outline of his hardened cock. He leans down atop of you, veiny forearms resting on either side of your head. 

He snakes a hand down between the two of you and dips his fingers in the waistband. “Can I take these off, babydoll?”

You nod and reach to his neck, trying to pull him down for a kiss. Much to your dismay, he doesn’t budge. 

“Need words, honey.”

“Yes Bucky, please.”

“Good girl,” he rewards you by leaning down and pressing his lips to yours.

His hand makes its way beneath your panties and he runs a finger through your abundant wetness, dragging it up to your clit. He uses your slick to rub circles into the sensitive bud. He pulls away from the kiss and you try to chase his mouth. He stops you by holding your head to the mattress with a hand on your jaw. He squeezes your cheeks until your mouth opens. He looks down at you and spits directly into your mouth.

“Swallow for me, baby.”

You follow his order without a second thought. Once you swallow, he brings his hand down to your neck. He rewards you by bringing a finger to your entrance and slowly pushing into your tight hole. 

“Fuck, doll. I wanna be in this perfect little pussy. Do you want that? Want me to fill you up with my big cock? Wanna feel me deep inside you?”

“Yes, Bucky! Fu- I want it so-fuck so bad.”

He quickly adds a second finger and begins pumping them inside you at a brutal pace. His hand on your throat tightens ever so slightly and he watches your face to gauge your reaction. When your eyes roll back into your head and your pussy clamps down on his fingers, he grins and tightens his grip a little more.

The lack of blood flow to your head makes you feel fuzzy in the best way. You feel yourself getting close to your orgasm. Bucky keeps his pace as he fucks you on his fingers and keeps a careful eye on you, watching for the telltale signals of your climax. When he sees you squeeze your eyes shut and feels your pussy clench, he pulls his hand out altogether. 

You look up at Bucky and loosens his grip on your neck, but keeps his hand resting there. You buck your hips up, your orgasm fading away rapidly. Bucky uses one hand to pin your hips to the bed.

“Bucky, no,” you whine, “I was so close.”

“I know, doll,” he gives you a mischievous smirk. “You were a bad girl earlier when you paid for dinner. You’re supposed to let me treat you. Let me take care of you. You wouldn’t let me take care of you then, so I’m not sure I should take care of you now.”

“Bucky please,” you beg, “Won’t do it again, promise. Just-nngh just take care of me please. Need you to make me come,” you hope your pleading is enough to convince him.

Bucky lets out a deep groan and smashes his lips against yours. He makes his way down your torso, stopping to pay special attention to your nipples. He ever so softly bites down on your nipple and you thread your fingers through his hair. He continues to trail kisses down your stomach. When he reaches your panties, he places wet kisses against the soaked fabric. You try to buck up into his mouth, but his hand is still pinning you down.

Finally, he reaches into the waistband of your panties and you raise your hips, allowing him to pull them down your legs and throw them on the floor with your dress. You get another glimpse of the rock-hard bulge in his dress pants and you know that can’t be comfortable for him, but his attention is all on you right now. He makes himself comfortable between your legs and uses his hands to spread your pussy apart, getting a good look at it.

“Fucking perfect. Prettiest damn pussy I’ve ever seen, baby.”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, his lips are on you. He sucks your clit into his mouth and flicks at it with his tongue. You grab onto his hair with one hand and grab the sheets with the other. The screams you let out are almost pornographic. He alternates between licking your arousal up from where it’s seeping out of your hole and giving your sensitive clit attention. In an embarrassingly short amount of time, you feel yourself returning to the edge of the orgasm you’d just been denied. 

He laps at your core and uses both hands to hold your hips down onto the bed. When your heavy breathing and the movement of your hips give away your oncoming orgasm, he pulls away again. 

“NOO,” you practically scream, on the verge of tears. “Bucky,” you sob. 

“That one was for giving me a hard on at dinner when you downed that whiskey.”

Before you have a chance to complain anymore, he places one last kiss on your clit and stands from the bed. You watch as he undoes his pants and they pool at his ankles. You can see a wet spot on his boxers where he’d been leaking precum. He drops those too and you’re met with the sight of him. His cock bobs up against his stomach.

He’s thick and long, with a patch of dark curly hair at his base. The tip is pink and shiny with his arousal. Your mouth waters at the sight and you want nothing more than to lick it off, but he crawls back onto the bed before you can make any move to do so. He hovers over you and you can feel the weight of his cock resting on your lower stomach. 

“You want this, honey? Want to come all over my cock? Want me to fuck you so hard you can’t walk in the morning?” he ruts against your stomach, waiting for a response.

“Please, Bucky. ‘S all I want. Ah- fuck. Need it so bad. I need to come.”

“I got you, sweet girl,” he gives you a reassuring look as he grabs his base and guides himself to your drenched core.

He pushes his fat tip into you, watching your face for any signs of pain. You’re so wet and aroused that he almost slides right in. You try to push your hips down, desparate to feel him deeper. He’s quick to pin you down again. 

“Greedy girl.”

He eases himself into you at his own pace until his hips are flush against yours. You feel his pubic hair rubbing at your clit and begin to claw at his back, needing him to move.

“Fuck me, Bucky. Ah- god damn it,” you look up at him with pleading eyes, “Need you to move, baby.”

For the first time tonight, he listens to one of your demands. He slowly pulls all the way out, letting you feel every inch of his cock before he slams back in so hard it pushes you up the mattress. He braces himself with one arm on the bed and holds your hip with his other hand and sets a brutal pace. He thrusts deep and hard, tip pounding against your cervix with every punishing thrust. He moves the hand on your hip to rub at your clit.

“I’m not gonna last long baby. Fuck- be ah- be a good girl and come for me.”

You’re not far off and when he hits that spongy spot inside of you, you let out a scream. 

“Fuck, right there!” you pant.

He rubs at your clit and thrusts into your g-spot. You feel yourself hurdling toward your orgasm for the third time tonight. Except this time, when you clamp down around Bucky’s cock, he redoubles his efforts instead of stopping. You see stars when you reach your peak and you drag your nails down Bucky’s back. 

“Such a good girl for me, fuck. Where-ah where do you want me baby?”

“Inside, Bucky, please,” you want to know what it feels like to be full of his cum. “I’m on the pill.”

“Fuck, doll. So fucking good for me. My girl’s so good.”

You don’t miss the way he calls you his girl. And you certainly don’t mind it.

Bucky’s thrusts become shallow and his pace falters. He slams into you one last time and buries himself as deep as he can before shooting hot ropes of his seed into you. Once he empties his balls into you, he leans down, bracing himself on his forearms so as not to crush you. He slots his lips against yours and the two of you share breaths as you come down from your highs.

Once the two of you have caught your breath, he slowly pulls out of you. He places a kiss on your forehead and walks to the bathroom. You eye the dimples in his buttcheeks as he walks away. He returns shortly with a wet cloth and kneels between your thighs. He gingerly cleans his mess, aware of how sensitive you are. 

When he finishes, he throws the cloth onto the floor and climbs up the bed to join you. You climb under the sheets and fold them over on the other side, offering Bucky the space. He happily lays down next to you and pulls you into his chest.

“You’re beautiful, doll. I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did.”

“It was so good, Buck,” you manage to respond in your exhausted state. 

“I’m sure you’d enjoy it more if I didn’t have to punish you, too,” you can’t see his face, but you know he has a cocky smirk on his face.

“You’ll have to show me, then.”

“Oh, believe me, sweet girl, I plan to.”

You fall asleep against Bucky’s strong chest, his hand scratching soothingly at your back.

[anders-jjk-drabbles]

𝒫𝑜𝓁𝓎!𝒮𝒶𝓉𝑜𝒮𝓊𝑔𝓊 𝓍 𝒢𝒩!𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇: 𝒮𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝒟𝒶𝓎

ᵃᵘᵗʰᵒʳˢ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ: ⁿᵍˡ ᶜʰ ²⁶¹ ᴴᴱᴬⱽᴵᴸʸ ⁱⁿᶠˡᵘᵉⁿᶜᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ. ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ᵃ ᶠⁱᶜ ᵒᶠ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᴿᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴳᵒʲᵒ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴳᵉᵗᵒ. ᴺᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁱˡᵉʳ ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ!

Synopsis: Typically you were the one who always got sick, but when you woke up this morning, it was Satoru and Suguru both who fell under the weather!

Content Warnings: illness (implication of being chronically ill), Use of terms like but not limited to, "mucus". For those who are easily disturbed by words like 'snot' I kept that light and there's nothing super explicitly there. Gojo and Geto refer to the reader as 'bunny'. No use of reader or Y/N. Brief mentions of Jujutsu world and society. Nothing too serious.

ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ᵐⁱˢˢᵉᵈ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ! ♡

word count: 1.4k

You were used to getting sick. The fevers, chills, mucus, etcetera. Between Satoru, Suguru and you, more often than not it was you who caught whatever plague was rampaging through Tokyo at the time. Whenever you were sick, the two men pampered you in their own little ways. 

Suguru, who always made sure there was a pot of your favorite homemade soup hot on the stove. Who checked your fever with a kiss to your forehead, and would braid your hair back to keep it out of your face. While Satoru, would be the first to bring you meds and a bottle of water. He would sit with you for hours, holding you close while you binge-watched shows together. Whenever you would sigh and explain to him that he would get sick. Satoru would give you his signature shit-eating grin and tell you, “Don’t worry, bunny. Suguboo and I are the strongest. So we won’t get sick from a little measly cold.”

That was, of course, until both of your boys woke up sicker than dogs this morning.  Satoru’s face was bright with fever, and Suguru was coughing up a lung. Whatever they had brought home, it hadn’t gotten you. Both of them were completely out of it. Satoru was a clingy mess, hugging your thighs as he burrowed his head into your lap. Gently, you stroked the strands of sweat-soaked white hair from his forehead. He sniffed loudly, voice nasally from congestion,  “Bunny— why does this fucking suck so bad? You never act this miserable when you’re sick.” 

From the opposite side of the room, Suguru sat at the dining table, his head covered with a towel as he leaned over a bowl of steaming water. At Satoru’s whine, he lifted his head slightly, long black hair braided down his back in a French braid. A loud indignant sniff filled the room as Suguru grumbled, “It’s because, Satoru, they’re always sick. When you’re used to something it gets easie—“ His teasing chide was cut off as he released a hacking cough into his elbow. A groan escaped his lips as he returned to the head-sized cavern of steam he trapped himself in.

“My poor babies,” You cooed, smiling softly as you rubbed Satoru’s back soothingly.  It was true. As you had grown up you got sick constantly, you grew used to moving about and just weathering through whatever storm came your way. If it wasn’t contagious and just part of your usual strew of symptoms and not knocking you flat on your ass— You still existed as if everything was almost normal. “Well ya know, angel,” You patted Satoru’s back to get his attention, “Suguru has the right idea. Some steam inhalation would really help.”

In response, Satoru only wrapped himself closer around you on the couch. A muffled whine pressed against your stomach you hardly understood other than his strong disagreement to the idea. “Can’t hear ya, baby.” You giggled, pulling his hair slightly until he blinked up at you with his pretty blues and a sweet pout. 

“Don’t wanna.” Satoru huffed, sniffing indignantly, “It feels weird. Makes my head too hot and it makes me more miserable.” 

You snorted at his response, rubbing Satoru’s back soothingly. Turned out that when the strongest sorcerers got sick, they were whiny. For a while you sat there with Satoru, holding him close as he sniffed and coughed into your lap. Suguru hunched over the bowl, coughing and hacking. With a pat to Satoru’s shoulder, you murmured, “Okay, Satoru sweetie— I need to get up. I’m gonna make you both some soup.”

He whined again, pressing his forehead against the flesh of your stomach, “Nuh-uh. I’m cold and you’re warm— stay, bunny, please.”With a laugh, you shook your head slowly. “Just a little longer…” You promised easily, rubbing the back of his neck, causing contented little groans and whimpers to escape his pretty lips. A few more moments pass as you agreed and sat with him for a few minutes longer but their combined sniffing and miserable faces was more than enough to convince you. They needed something to eat here soon—

 So with a huff, and a whine of protest from Satoru, you pushed him off of your lap and back onto a pillow on the couch.  “Rest, honey.” You gave head an affectionate pat as you walked past him into the kitchen. It took you a few minutes to decide what you wanted to make, going through the cabinets and fridge as you looked through ingredients and spices. As you bent over to pull out a stock pot from the cabinet, Suguru’s hands squeezed your hips affectionately as he pressed his forehead against your shoulder blades,  “Thanks for taking care of us, bunny.” He hummed in the back of his throat, as you straightened up and he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. Compared to earlier, he definitely sounded less congested.

 The little moment in the kitchen was interrupted by Satoru’s loud groan from the couch, “Can one of you at least come and hold me? I’m miserable over here.”

Both Suguru and you burst into a fit of laughter.  He kissed your cheek and left the kitchen to join Satoru on the couch. While they settled in you hauled the pot onto the stove and got started on the soup. Meanwhile, Digimon’s theme song started in the background, bringing a sense of warmth and continuity to your chest. 

Last time you had been struck down by a nasty flu, to help you feel better Satoru had put on Digimon because the show always helped him. You never minded, not truly. When you were sick you’d drug yourself and fall asleep to the Digimon battles. Hardly ever, did you really pay attention to whatever was on the TV when you were sick. Hearing it now and the disjointed sneezing and coughing from the next room was just a mildly humorous reminder that even the strongest sorcerers need to rest and recoup. 

As the soup came to a beautiful finish. The smell wafted through the apartment. You peeked around the corner, mouth open and ready to call your boys that food was ready and to ask if they wanted anything else with it. Only to see them passed out on the couch in a tangle of limbs. Satoru’s head was tucked in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck while Suguru had an arm and a leg thrown over the white-haired sorcerer.

A small smile formed on your face as you quietly snuck over. You picked up a folded blanket hanging over the arm of the couch and draped it over the both of them. Just as you turned around to head back to the kitchen- a large hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging softly. You look back only to be met with vibrant gazes of violet and blue. 

Satoru’s hand held onto your wrist as Suguru reached for your other hand. Suguru’s velvety voice groggy with sick and sleep, “Come nap with us, bunny, please.”

How could you deny a request like that? A smile spreads on your face, “Oh… fine. Better not get me sick though.” You tease. Satoru huffed indignantly, as he pouted before yanking you into the cuddle pile. As you adjusted around, a sense of rightness filled your chest. It was natural the way you fit in their arms. The next episode of Digimon queued up right as your head found its spot on Suguru’s chest and held a tight grip on Satoru’s hand.

Turns out— Them being sick meant sick days for all of you. Within 48 hours of them waking up feeling sick and beginning to recover. You were sick once again.  Surrounded by a pile of tissues, and a cup of soup from the batch you made a couple of days ago, you sniffed miserably once again> The fever they had been battling now sent chills down your spine. Satoru’s face was still mildly flushed with fever, wondering aloud how you were sitting up when you looked so dizzy and out of it. Suguru scrolled through TikTok on his phone to keep his mind off being ill. At least all of you got to be together. Sure it sucked being sick but being sick with them? Made all of it a bit easier.

Looks like the Jujutsu world would have to wait. For now, your sorcerers and you? You would rest.

Hope you all enjoyed!!!

Please like, comment and reblog!

[ramblingoak]

Care Package

Papa Emeritus IV x GN Reader ~ You take care of Copia after he gets sick at the end of the tour

Warnings: Copia being dramatic while sick, fluff, sfw, 1k words, not proofread forgive me

“I’m dying.”

Here we go.  It was a good thing your back was turned because Copia would pitch a fit if he saw you rolling your eyes.  You sighed and continued to pick up all of the used tissues that were littering the floor.  When he let out a pitiful sigh you groaned, turning your head to glare at him.

“Copia, you’re fine.”

“No, no this is it.  I can feel it.”  You bit your lip to stifle the laugh that wanted to bubble out.  Copia was endlessly dramatic whenever he was under the weather.  “It’s near.”

“What’s near?”

“Death.”

“Oh Lucifer, you’re not going to die from a cold.”  He started to respond but was immediately interrupted by a series of violent sneezes, the whole bed shaking from the force of them.  You turned back to the dirty tissues, shoving them into a trash bag while he recovered.  The sound of him blowing his nose filled the room and right when you were turning to check on him again a wet, balled up tissue hit you right in the face.  “Son of a fuck!  Copia!”

“Eh?”  His adorably confused look stopped you from leaping onto the bed and strangling him, but just barely.  The sight of his red, watery eyes made your irritation disappear.  His face was flushed from the fever and sweaty locks of hair had fallen across his forehead.  When Copia realized you were staring at him he groaned and threw his arm over his face.  “You shouldn’t see me like this.”

“Like what?”  You dropped the trash bag and grabbed another box of tissues, slowly walking around the bed to sit by his hip.  He whined when you tugged on his arm so you could see his face.  “Hey, like what?”

“Pathetic.”  You cooed at him, reaching out to brush his hair back.  He sighed when you placed your cool hand on his forehead.  “Weak and old.  Hideous.” 

“Well, this is all true bu–”

“Dolcezza!”  Copia’s voice broke while he whined and he was overcome with a fit of coughing.  You helped turn him so he was coughing away from you, rubbing his back as they came to an end.  “Ugh, why are you here?”

“Someone has to take care of you.”

“You’re going to get sick too.”  He rolled back over on his back with a groan.  “I don’t want you to catch this.”

“I’ll just have to risk it.”  You smoothed his hair out again, giving him a soft smile when he met your eyes.  “I want to take care of you, Copia.”

“Fine, fine.  Twist my arm.”  He managed a weak smile and you resisted the urge to lean down and kiss him.  “Thank you, amore.”

“You’re welcome, Papa.”  You reached towards his night stand and grabbed the damp cloth you had set there earlier.  Copia let out a relieved sigh when you wiped the sweat off his face.  “Now, I’m going to clean you up a bit and then you’ll need to eat something before you take any more medicine.”

“I couldn’t possib–”

“It's homemade chicken noodle soup.”

You laughed when he grabbed your hand, his eyes lighting up at your words.

“Did Secondo make it?”

“Yes, your brothers gave me a care package for you.”  Copia sniffled a bit and you let him pretend it was from his cold.  You got up to grab the laundry basket Terzo had given you and brought it over to the bed, setting it at Copia’s feet so you could show him everything inside.  “Your ghouls also added a few things.”

“Anything good?”

“Primo gave me a salve I’m supposed to rub on your chest.”  You shook her head at him when he waggled his eyebrows.  Even when feverish he couldn’t help himself.  “And Terzo added a book and these penis shaped hard candies for your throat.”

“Where does he find this stuff?”  Copia made grabby hands for the candies and you tossed them over.  He opened the bag quickly, popping one into his mouth and smiling around it.  “These aren’t bad though, what book is it?” 

“The Hobbit.”  His eyes immediately started watering and you frowned.  “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing.  He used to read that to me when we were kids.”  Copia cleared his throat and smiled.  “What did the ghouls send?”

“Um, Phantom knit you a sweater but he ran out of yarn so it’s missing a sleeve.”  You held up the bright blue monstrosity that the quintessence ghoul had proudly shoved into your hands that morning.  “Other than that you got some eucalyptus candles and tea, a few crossword puzzle books and Aurora is letting you borrow her box set of all the Halloween movies.”

Copia’s face lit up at the last item, both he and the ghoulette had bonded over an intense love for slasher movies.  You laid the sweater over his chest and handed him the dvd’s then busied yourself putting the basket away and setting the candles around the room while you both pretended he wasn’t crying.  After he blew his nose a few times you wandered back over, the book from Terzo in your hands.  Copia yawned and settled back into his pillows while you fussed over him, helping him get comfortable.

“Will you read to me, amore?”  You wanted to get him to eat some soup first, but rest would be good for him as well.  As carefully as possible you got up on the bed and sat next to him, smiling when he scooted closer and rested his head against your thigh.  “Just until I fall asleep.”

“Whatever you need, Copia.  I’ll be right here.”  His breath was already evening out, his body going limp as you ran your fingers through his hair.  You quietly opened the book in your lap, taking a few seconds to watch him before you started to read.  “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit…” 

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you! Also if you'd prefer to only be tagged in my reader insert stuff that's ok! Feel free to let me know!

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[callmedaleelah]

— Pinnacle [ tsukishima kei university au series ]

— and i don’t know how it gets better than this ; let’s take a look on how a month of a relationship would be like

author’s notes : no mention of (y/n), written in second person pov, semi alternative universe, timeskip!tsukishima, college life, not proofread, english is not my first language

[ masterlist ] | [ ask daleelah go to box box 🐭 ]

Do you want to have lunch in the cafeteria?

As you were packing up your notes and preparing to head back to the dorm after a long day of classes, your phone buzzed softly in your pocket.

The text was from Tsukishima, and your heart did a little flip as you read it. It had only been two minutes since your class ended, and he was already asking to meet up. A small smile tugged at your lips as you began typing back.

My mom just sent me lunch 🥹

Heading to dorm now

you quickly replied, trying hard to suppress the giddiness that threatened to spill over. It had been a month since you started dating, and even though the relationship still felt new and exciting, there was a comforting familiarity in the way Tsukishima showed his affection—always understated, never excessive, but undeniably present.

The phone buzzed again.

Stop walking. I’m behind you.

You froze mid-step, instinctively turning around to see him standing there, his tall frame leaning casually against a nearby lamppost. His expression was as unreadable as always, but the faint smirk on his lips gave him away. Your cheeks warmed with the blush that spread across your face, and your smile bloomed wider.

Tsukishima walked toward you, closing the distance with a calm, measured pace. When he reached you, his hand gently ruffled your hair, tousling it just enough to make it messy. But before you could protest, he smoothed it back down, his fingers moving with surprising gentleness. You felt a warmth bubble up inside you at the small act of care.

Without a word, he took your hand in his, his long fingers intertwining with yours as you both began walking toward your dorm. His grip was firm, steady, and familiar. It was these small gestures that always caught you off guard—how someone as stoic as him could show affection in such quiet, tender ways.

As you walked, he glanced down at you.

“So, how was class?” he asked, his tone casual but interested.

You shrugged lightly, trying to think of something coherent to say despite the fluttering in your chest. “It was okay, I guess. We had a lecture on enzyme kinetics today. It’s... complicated. We’re learning about how different substrates affect reaction rates and how to calculate Vmax and Km using Lineweaver-Burk plots. It’s kinda overwhelming.” You chuckled, trying to play it off, but the truth was, biochemistry wasn’t getting any easier. The second semester was filled with more challenging topics—metabolism, enzyme mechanisms, and signal transduction pathways. Sometimes it felt like your brain was spinning in circles trying to keep up.

Tsukishima’s thumb brushed over the back of your hand in a soothing motion. “Hmm, sounds like you’re managing,” he commented, his voice low and cool, but there was an underlying sense of approval in his words. “Just don’t overthink it.”

You nodded, appreciating his subtle encouragement, even if it was delivered in the most Tsukishima way possible.

When the two of you reached your dorm, you invited him inside. “You can sit down,” you said, motioning to the low table as you slipped off your shoes. “I’ll get us some tea.”

Tsukishima didn’t argue, simply settling himself comfortably at the table. He stretched out his long legs under the table, leaning back with that same calm, collected demeanor. You poured two glasses of iced barley tea, setting them down on the table along with the meal your mom had sent. Two plates of rice, grilled mackerel, miso soup, and some side dishes—enough for the both of you.

“I’m glad you came with me to the dorm,” you said, sitting across from him. “Finally, someone can help me eat all of this food. My mom keeps sending more than I can finish.”

Tsukishima let out a soft sigh, clearly unimpressed by your complaint, but he said nothing. Instead, he picked up his chopsticks and muttered a quiet, “Itadakimasu,” before digging in.

“Itadakimasu,” You started eating as well, savoring the familiar flavors of homemade food. But halfway through, you felt your hair falling into your face, getting in the way as you tried to eat. You pushed it back with your hand, annoyed, but it kept slipping forward again.

Tsukishima’s gaze shifted toward you, and without saying a word, Tsukishima stood up and walked over to your desk. You looked up, confused, but before you could ask what he was doing, he grabbed a hairpin from the top drawer. Moving with quiet precision, he came over and gently swept your hair back, securing it in place with the pin. His fingers brushed against your temple as he worked, and you felt your face heat up, your heart pounding in your chest.

“There,” he said simply, stepping back as if nothing had happened, as if tying your hair was just another mundane task. But the subtle softness in his actions didn’t go unnoticed by you.

You sat there, momentarily stunned by the unexpected act of care. Your face felt like it was on fire, but you managed a small, “Thank you,” before quickly looking down at your food, hoping he wouldn’t notice how flustered you were.

Of course, Tsukishima noticed. He always did. But instead of teasing you about it, he simply returned to his seat and resumed eating, as if tying your hair was no big deal. Still, the softness of the gesture lingered in the air between you, a quiet reminder of the tenderness he hid behind his stoic exterior.

A few moments passed in comfortable silence before Tsukishima spoke again, his tone as cool and casual as ever. “I’m going grocery shopping after this. Want to come?”

You almost choked on your rice at the sudden question, nodding a bit too enthusiastically in response. “Yeah, I’ll come,” you said, trying to sound calm, even though your heart was still fluttering from earlier. You avoided his gaze, focusing on your food instead, hoping he wouldn’t notice how nervous he still made you.

But of course, he noticed. You caught the faintest hint of a smirk on his face before he resumed eating, completely unfazed. And somehow, that only made your heart race even faster.

The clinking of silverware against the plates was the only sound between you and Tsukishima as you both finished dinner. It was a quiet moment, but not awkward—just the kind of comfortable silence that had begun to settle naturally between you two. You were about to gather the dishes when Tsukishima leaned back, glancing at you with a knowing look.

“You can go change. I’ll wash the dishes,” he said, his voice carrying that soft, direct tone that you’d come to recognize as one of his small acts of care.

You blinked, a little surprised, your hand freezing just as you were about to reach for the plates. Did he know that you had planned to rush to the sink—hoping to clean up quickly so you could change and head to the grocery store with him? The realization that he had noticed, or perhaps just anticipated your routine, made your heart warm slightly. But before you could protest or offer to help, Tsukishima stood up, gathering the dirty plates himself, his long fingers deftly handling the stack as he carried them to the sink.

For a moment, you just watched him—admiring the subtle way his back muscles shifted beneath his shirt, his movements smooth and efficient as he began rinsing the dishes. A soft sigh escaped you as you thought about how thoughtful he was. Being romantic and naturally kind were two different things, right? But with Tsukishima, the lines always seemed to blur. Maybe he wasn’t the overly affectionate type, but his quiet actions spoke volumes.

“You’re going to change, or just stand there staring?” His voice pulled you from your thoughts, and your face immediately warmed in embarrassment. Tsukishima wasn’t even looking at you, but he’d sensed it all.

With a quick jump, “I-I’m going!” you grabbed a fresh set of clothes from your drawer and hurried to the bathroom to change. You could hear the faint sound of water running and plates clinking as he washed the dishes, and you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for letting him do it.

Once you’d collected your clothes, you changed in the bathroom, letting the coolness of your new outfit calm your sudden rush of emotions. The fact that he had noticed such small details about you, that he had even anticipated your next move, made your heart race in a way you weren’t used to.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, feeling refreshed in your clean clothes, Tsukishima was already waiting by the door. His tall figure leaned casually against the doorway, his eyes flicking to you briefly before he reached out his hand. You took it quickly, slipping on your sneakers with your free hand, the warmth of his palm making you feel slightly more at ease.

As you both stepped outside into the early evening air, the streets were quiet, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. Tsukishima unlocked his car with a beep, and as he always did, he opened the passenger door for you, gesturing for you to get in first. You couldn’t help but smile as you slid into the seat, appreciating the small gesture.

He walked around to the driver’s side and got in, starting the car with a low rumble. As he pulled out onto the street, the golden sunlight filtering through the trees created an almost dreamlike atmosphere inside the car. You snuck a glance at him—his profile lit by the warm light, the subtle focus in his eyes as he drove, his grip steady on the steering wheel. There was something comforting about being next to him like this, in the quiet space that only the two of you occupied.

“Didn’t think you were the type to leave dirty dishes behind,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he looked at you sideways.

You laughed softly, squeezing his hand lightly in return. “I didn’t plan on it! You just swooped in so quickly.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, his eyes focused ahead. “Thought I’d spare you from rushing around.”

You smiled at his words, appreciating how well he knew you. He always seemed to understand the little things you didn’t even realize about yourself.

There was a beat of silence before he spoke again, this time in a quieter tone. “You want to get ice cream after I’m done with groceries?” he asked, glancing at you briefly before parking the car.

The mention of ice cream caught you off guard, and before you could even think about it, your face lit up with a grin. “Yes, please,” you answered eagerly, though you tried to keep your tone polite, not wanting to seem too excited. But Tsukishima noticed anyway, the faintest hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

“Thought you’d like that,” he muttered, a bit of teasing in his voice as he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. You couldn’t help but feel a bit giddy as you followed him into the store, his hand slipping into yours once more as if it was second nature.

The cool air of the grocery store greeted you as the automatic doors slid open. Tsukishima walked beside you, casually pushing the cart with one hand, while his other hand remained intertwined with yours. It was a small gesture, but it made your heart flutter. You glanced around the store, noting how brightly lit it was, rows of fresh produce on one side, aisles of packaged goods on the other. The slight hum of people moving about and the soft background music made the atmosphere feel almost peaceful.

Tsukishima paused for a moment, glancing at the list on his phone before steering the cart toward the vegetable section. His brows furrowed slightly in concentration, his long fingers tapping at the screen. You watched him for a moment, admiring how focused he seemed even with something as mundane as grocery shopping. It made you smile—how someone so seemingly distant and cool could still care about the little details.

“What?” Tsukishima asked, catching your gaze.

You quickly looked away, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Nothing, just… you look really serious about those vegetables,” you teased, trying to hide your fluster.

He raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the pile of vegetables in front of him. “Well, we need good ones. I’m not buying anything that’ll go bad in a day,” he replied, his tone neutral, though there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

When he reached the hygiene aisle, he turned to you unexpectedly, “What hair product do you use?”

You blinked, surprised by the question. “Uh, I just buy whatever shampoo catches my eye each month. But my mom got me this hair mask and said I should use it every week.”

“What hair mask?” he asked, curiosity clear in his tone.

You walked a few steps to the shelf where the product was and pointed to a tub. “This one. It smells like cocoa,” you explained, trying not to sound too self-conscious.

Tsukishima took the container, examining it for a moment. “Why’s it so expensive for a hair product?” he mumbled under his breath. You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his confusion.

Suddenly, he reached out and gently picked up a strand of your hair, bringing it closer to his nose. “I was curious because your hair always smells nice,” he said casually, placing the container back on the shelf and moving to the next item. You stood there momentarily, blushing at the compliment, even though he had said it so nonchalantly.

Trying to hide the warmth creeping up your face, you fell back into step behind him, the interaction replaying in your head. After he finished collecting everything on his list, you both made your way to the cashier. The line moved slowly, but Tsukishima handed you his card before you had a chance to say anything.

“Go ahead and get the ice cream. I’ll meet you there after I pay for this,” he said, nodding toward the ice cream shop across the street.

Your face lit up at the suggestion. “What flavor do you want?” you asked, barely able to contain your excitement.

“Surprise me,” he replied with a small smile, clearly amused by your enthusiasm.

You grinned widely and, holding onto his card, headed toward the ice cream shop, trying to decide on the perfect flavor combination that would do the “surprise” justice. Tsukishima, meanwhile, watched you leave with a soft chuckle, shaking his head at how effortlessly happy you seemed when it came to something as simple as ice cream.

You looked over the options, your eyes drawn to the more unique flavors. “One cup of vanilla yuzu and one cup of blueberry sea salt, please,” you told the employee with a polite smile.

There was something thrilling about trying new flavors—your mom had always been the type to stick to the basics, buying you plain vanilla or chocolate, often with the cautionary “what if you don’t like it and throw it away?” But today, you wanted something different, something adventurous.

As you received the cups, Tsukishima walked into the shop, immediately spotting you. You smiled instinctively when you saw him, feeling a rush of warmth at the sight of him. He pointed toward a small table near the window, a cozy spot bathed in the fading golden light of the evening. You followed him as he pulled out a chair for you to sit first—a small, but appreciated gesture that made your heart skip.

Once you were both settled, Tsukishima glanced at the ice cream cups you placed on the table. His eyes shifted to you with mild curiosity. “What’s this?”

You grinned, practically buzzing with excitement to see how he’d react to the flavors. “Just try it,” you urged him, sliding one of the cups toward him.

He picked up the small plastic spoon and dipped it into the vanilla yuzu first, bringing the bite to his lips. His expression remained neutral, but you noticed the way his eyes softened slightly as he savored the taste, the sweetness of vanilla melding with the citrusy sharpness of yuzu.

“It’s good,” he said simply, placing the spoon down.

Your smile widened. “Yeah? Try this one,” you added, offering him a spoonful of the blueberry sea salt.

As he leaned in and took the spoon from your hand, you suddenly remembered the time he had casually sipped from your cup of hot chocolate before you got in a relationship. The memory made your cheeks flush slightly, and you quickly turned your attention back to your own ice cream, feeling the heat rise to your face.

Tsukishima hummed quietly in approval as he tasted the blueberry, though he didn’t comment further. His calm demeanor never wavered, but you could tell he preferred the first flavor from the subtle way his attention shifted back to the vanilla yuzu cup.

For a while, the two of you ate in comfortable silence, the sounds of the shop around you blending into the background. The occasional clink of spoons against the cups, the soft hum of conversation from other customers—it all felt peaceful, like time had slowed down just for you two.

After a few more bites, Tsukishima broke the silence. “I’m gonna be busy for the next two days,” he said, his tone casual, but his gaze fixed on you. “You okay with that?”

You smiled, shrugging nonchalantly. “Of course. We used to see each other by coincidence, remember? I can manage two days without you,” you replied, your voice light and playful.

Tsukishima’s lips curled slightly in amusement, his eyes glinting with a teasing edge. “Yeah—thought I should give you the experience of missing your boyfriend’s presence now that you have one.”

The teasing tone made your heart skip a beat, and before you knew it, you were playfully nudging his side, laughing at his comment. Tsukishima smirked, though there was a warmth behind it—a quiet understanding that, despite his teasing, you’d miss him more than you were letting on.

sorry i didn’t upload it sooner, and i missed kei’s birthday—bit i promise to post about it tomorrow, so i hope you guys still wait for this story to finish 🥹🥹

it’s been so hectic guys—but i miss writing and see your comments—they always lighten up my mood 🫶🏻✨🤧

tagslist (free to mention) ; @theweirdfloatything @snowthatareblack @ilovemymomscooking @nayiiryun @knightofmidnight @kozumesphone @scxrcherr @thechaosoflonging @monya-febrjack

[soysaurus]

There's a trait that runs through every hero, regardless of if they've spent the last couple months in prison, rehab, or wrangling pyjamas onto a stubborn five-year-old: they're a workaholic.

Thank god Jason is not a hero. Roy, on the other hand, definitely is. He might be ‘inactive’ or ‘I’m just focusing on Lian right now, thanks’, but Jason has dropped by Roy's shitty apartment in Star often enough that he can confidently say Roy, no matter what, is a hero.

So he kicks him.

“Ow! What the fuck, Jaybird?” Roy glares as he brings his fingers to his lips, slurping up the bright orange liquid that’s currently coating half his sleeve.

More keeps dripping onto the floor in radioactive bursts, and the bowl is steaming. It has a chip in the side from when Jason was teaching Lian how to shoot, and Jason knows what the ceramic feels like when steam is escaping from every orifice. He had to use his Red Hood gloves to hold the damn thing last time. He had to do a lot of things, but Roy's fingers don't shake as he holds the bowl in one hand.

He kicks Jason lightly back. “You're a fucking asshole, Todd, ya know that?”

Jason's head is a slow buzz. It's a sound that he can feel spit behind his eyes, sing with sharp vowels and harsh chords. It's something that's attacking him from the inside-out, digging deep until he can feel the green of the pit flare in his throat.

“Fuck ‘ff,” he murmurs, turning his head to look anywhere but Roy. “Don't need your shit-ass soup. Don't need anythin’.”

He moves to stand, to sit, to do anything but be useless on the sofa.

Roy only needs one hand to hold Jason down, and Jason tells himself it's just this once. It's because Roy is a hero and Jason is anything but.

“Dude, you're, like, what? Two seconds from passing out my couch? Eat the damn soup.”

Jason doesn't look as the bowl is shoved in front of him. More sloshes over the sides, lapping at Roy's thumb. He needs to get his mind out of the gutter. He needs to remember why he came here in the first place.

Roy groans, deep and guttural with his head thrown back and all the muscles in his neck straining. Sometimes Jason wants to curl his fingers around the thick flesh, cord his soul into the pieces of Roy he can never get back, and take him. For real this time.

He looks at the damned fucking soup.

It's tomato or carrot, or maybe even something that has never been orange in the first place. Jason can feel the steam hitting his nose hairs but he can't smell anything. “Needs more seasoning,” he spits.

Roy sighs. The soup nips his fingers again as he plops down onto the sofa. Their thighs touch, brush, hold on tight enough to blur the lines.

“You're sick,” Roy says. He holds up a spoon. It's caked in red. “Here comes the aeroplane…”

Jason wants to punch him, and it's fine because even though Jason rescued Roy first, Jason was also the first who left. He was the first who walked away and didn't return. He was the first one who died, and then died again.

It's stupid. Roy likes to say he died too, but Jason doesn't like thinking about explosions. He can't think about anything right now anyway. His brain hurts. The words in his head buzz. A hot tip touches his lips but it's not the right kind.

“Open wide.” Roy's using his Dad voice, and it's horrifying. Jason can feel his heart in his lungs and sometimes he forgets Roy has green eyes too.

They're earthier. Grounded. They're nothing like the look Jason stares at Roy with when Lian's gone to bed and the bowl's still chipped and the dishes haven't been scrubbed but everyone is too tired to touch it.

Roy sighs. The spoon clatters into the bowl, and he sucks the soup from his thumb again. “Jay, you gotta work with me here. You're sick. Being a stubborn asshole isn't gonna change that. What're you even doing here, man? Thought you were tired.”

Jason has never said he's tired before. At least not to Roy. The voice in his head that glows green and grins acid is different. He thinks he loves the voice and also hates it. He doesn't know if it's himself or someone else.

“Shut up, Harper.” He sniffs without meaning to and promptly closes his mouth.

Roy's lips break into that sly grin that means he's going home with at least a couple numbers and a body or two hanging from his elbows. “Only if you eat the damn soup. Otherwise I'll keep going, baby. I can keep this up all night long.” He winks as if Jason doesn't know him. “You know I've got the stamina to prove it.”

Jason rolls his eyes. Kind of. It hurts and the world spins, and then Roy's whispering meaningless words into his ear. He thinks his eyes are open but then he blinks and sees the ceiling. He does a double take but his body doesn't move. The air swirls. Something pinches his hips, then his legs, and then Jason is in Roy's room and the sheets smell like his body wash.

There's another smell, something heady and unmistakably Roy. Jason's not in love because he's never been in love. He doesn't know what it looks like.

He smells soup.

A ceramic bowl clatters gently, and a duvet is tugged up to Jason's chin. The bed dips next to Jason's waist and Roy's hair is long. It isn't tied back, but it was before. With the lamp light, his eyelashes look brighter. Almost like they're glowing.

Jason's not in love because Roy could never love him. He's just not the type. He's someone who dedicates his life to one person and one person only, and Jason is nowhere near a hero.

The tip of the spoon touches his bottom lip. It's cooler.

“Open wide.”

Maybe it's because it's half-one in the morning or Jason's running a fever higher than he ever has before, or because he's only twenty-one and yet he has over half of Gotham's underground under his control. His chest clenches. Tim said Jason's going to end up with heart attacks if he keeps this going, and then Jason yelled about all the empty Red Bull cans littering Tim's floor.

Jason's only twenty-one but he's never been in love. He was, maybe, once when he was fifteen. But that was before the voice in his head was impossibly loud. He doesn't remember who it was, and they're probably gone.

He opens his mouth. Roy grins, sly and dirty. His Dad voice slips out: “Good boy.”

Jason's going to kill him. He doesn't remember why he came to Star City tonight. He doesn't remember a lot of things.

His chest tightens even more as he swallows, and maybe Tim is right. Maybe heart attacks are going to be what finally takes Jason out.