#i have a good life. i have a nice apartment with a short commute. a loving partner. enough money to live comfortably

[arnold-layne]

im such a loser it hurts. i’ve gained a lot of weight over the last year and it makes me hate my body. my job sucks and pays so little i feel ashamed just thinking about it. my grades are bad and my writing is mediocre and devoid of meaning. why do i even exist

[missredherring]

“I wish you worked.”

Pairing: Max Lord x Fat F!Reader

Rating: G

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: None

Summary: In a world where superheroes and villains need to be taken into consideration when planning your morning commute, crystals rank low on the “things to be concerned about” scale. A genie AU. 

A/N: I hope you enjoy this beginning. This is not beta read and I’m flying fast and loose with rules regarding the DCU. Thanks to @thatdamnokie​ for their support. @yearofcreation2023​

Divider by @saradika-graphics​​

Masterlist - Next​

“What did you find?” Ashley asks you. 

Your hand grips its treasure tighter before you hold it up for their inspection. They nod in appreciation and you take a another moment to roll it this way and that on your palm, admiring how the facets capture the sunlight coming in through the windows.

The two of you have been wandering around the shop for a good twenty minutes, but none of the stones and crystals covering every available counter space hold your attention as well as the one in your hand. 

You’d seen it almost as soon as you stepped inside, nestled in a box with a price tag and a short description. “Citrine. Happiness & Prosperity. Brazil.” 

The immediate reaction to pick up the box so no one else could buy it was swiftly followed by the little voice in your head telling you that you didn’t need it and shouldn’t buy it.

It feels good in your hand though, and the champagne yellow color glows softy even under the fluorescent lights of the shop. It’s a citrine point, long enough to fit nicely in your hand and wide enough to curl your fingers around without your nails poking into your palm. It’s not entirely glossy, maybe it hadn’t been polished enough, but the texture doesn’t bother you, even with the rough base that looks like it might have been broken off from a bigger piece. 

The pad of your finger traces over a ridge and up to the pointed tip, and you give yourself the time it’ll take to look through the shop to make a decision. 

Now your friend has shown you their own find for the day, you’re making your way to the cash register, and the crystal is still in your hand. Glancing at the box, you notice some writing on the bottom. It’s smeared and faded with age, but you can make out a “Dr--mst--e” before you’re called by the cashier to check out.

In a world where superheroes and villains need to be taken into consideration when planning your morning commute, crystals rank low on the "things to be concerned about” scale. If they do work they’ll improve your life, but if not, you have some neat rocks. It’s a win-win situation. 

You nestle your newest purchase between a blue-green apatite “Manifestation & Motivation. Madagascar” and a neutral toned hematoid quartz “Grounding & Self Esteem. Madagascar” and promptly forget about it as the daily ebb and flow of life sweeps you away.

It’s on the other side of the year when you notice the citrine again.

The weather is colder and you feel like you’re dying as the amount of sunlight shortens each day. Ok, that’s probably the seasonal depression talking and it’s a good sign to put the lights up. It’s weeks before any holiday but you don’t care. It’s dark outside when you leave for work and dark when you come home; the simple act of lighting up your apartment with colorful lights helps.

It takes moving furniture around, the use of a step stool, breaking into a new pack of command hooks, and shooing your cat Harry away from the dangling cords while you work, but the lights are up. Every other light is turned off and the apartment is left illuminated in a multi-colored glow. Red, pink, orange, green, and blue all haze together to give an overall red glow to the room. 

It’s soft and gives you that same feeling of looking at the Christmas tree that you remember from your childhood. You’d loved to sit next to the tree with it lit up and bask in it. Sometimes your mom would join you, but mostly you’d be alone and it felt like a stolen moment of serenity amidst the chaos of the holiday season. The nostalgia sours when you realize you’re still alone, and it no longer feels serene, but empty and cold.  

A section of lights needs to be rearranged and when you step off the stool you misstep, bumping into the out-of-place side table hard enough to dislodge the crystals from their arrangement and knock them to the floor. 

You rub your hip, annoyed at yourself, and start picking them up. You hope none of them had cracked or chipped. They’re dusty, but intact. Blowing off the top layer, you use your shirt to polish each crystal and put them back into the decorative bowl you’d found just for this purpose. You keep telling yourself that once it was full you wouldn’t buy anymore, but the smooth faceted sides of the crystals lend themselves to stacking. You’re almost done your game of Jenga when you recognize the last crystal that needs to be placed: the citrine. 

It had glowed sweetly in the sunlight on the day you’d bought it, but now it takes on a darker hue from the lights. It looks more like honey than champagne. 

“Happiness and prosperity, huh? I could use some of that. I wish you worked.” You sigh and gently add it to the pile of good intentions. 

A rush of air hits you and there’s a noise from behind. A clearing of the throat that shouldn’t happen when you’re the only one in the apartment. It certainly isn’t a sound Harry can make. 

Fear grips your chest and you freeze, taking in what can be used as a weapon in front of you. You could throw the crystals, obviously, but you don’t trust your aim enough for that. The step stool just to the side? It was heavy duty with a high weight capacity so you didn’t have to worry about it breaking under you. The side table you’d bumped into would have a heavier impact, but it would slow you down. When your fingers slide into the handles you let yourself take a single breath to brace your nerves before you face whatever is behind you. 

The sound comes again and you whirl around, chucking the stool at the tall figure standing in your living room. Its hands come up to ward off the object, but you both watch as it passed harmlessly through him. Harry scrambles away from the commotion and you hope he hides somewhere out of the way.

The figure smooths down his suit jacket where the stool went through him and adjusts a lock of hair that had fallen across his forehead. Gold jewelry on his fingers and wrist wink in the dim reddish glow of the lighting. It casts shadows over his face, exaggerating his brow bone and hooked nose. The lines around his mouth deepen when his lips stretch into a smile that shows too many teeth. He holds his hands out with a showman’s flair and delivers his proclamation: 

“Life is good, but it can be better.”

[satashiiwrites]

Snippet Sunday

I really should be working on my wip big bang fic…. Should being the key word there. Instead working on my vegas AU.

Tagging @tkwritesdumbassassins @whimsyswastry @missanniewhimsy @outtoshatter @quietborderline @monsterrae1 @alyxmastershipper @megasaurus-regina @westernlarch @rosieposiepuddingnpie with no obligations, this is just for fun.

Banner by radio chatter.

Title: An All Time High

Fandom: 911

Pairing: Buddie

Fic summary:

After being struck by lightning on the job, Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley takes his newly acquired math skills to Vegas for the weekend.  He’s also in search of the meaning of why he survived given that all his lovers leave him sooner or later and his found family is all happily settled down but he isn’t. 

He’s not running away to Vegas, but it might look that way from the outside. 

Las Vegas, Nevada is where Eddie Diaz has been spinning his wheels for the last few years after his discharge from the Army.  He’s finally in a bit of a good spot emotionally but is starting to feel at loose ends as his son starts wanting more independence.  

A different first meeting under alternative circumstances. 

Tags/warnings: AU, alternative first meeting, set after lightning strike in season 6, buck’s math powers in vegas (because what could go wrong, right?), casinomogul!Eddie, first time, eddie takes care of buck, buck doesn’t tell eddie he goes by buck because he may be running away from his life in LA

“Yes,” Evan says, licking his lips and swaying closer.  “Where to?”

“Not far,” Eddie assures him, reluctantly stepping back but capturing Evan’s hand to lead him. “This way.”

Evan gives him an amused look when he leads him to the VIP elevator. “You live in your casino?”

“Makes for a short commute,” Eddie admits.  It also means that if needed he’s available for emergencies and has a list of people who can watch Christopher for short times if need be but Evan doesn’t need to know that.  

The elevator is private, going only to three suites of which Eddie’s and Christopher’s apartment is the smallest. Waving his key card against the card reader, the elevator smoothly takes off while he presses Evan into the upholstered wall.  He’s waited patiently to see what Evan’s lips taste like and he’s not going to wait any longer now that they’re not in public. 

Evan’s lips are soft for a man and they part eagerly with a small moan, his height turning Eddie on as he doesn’t have to lean down to capture them.  The first touch is hesitant, a tasting, then again more confident as they figure out how to slot into one another.  It’s wet and heated in the best of ways, exploring one another.  

Then Evan slips his tongue into Eddie’s mouth and he can’t help but retaliate.  His fingers slip south, exploring the smooth cloth of the suit to feel the muscles underneath and tug the shirt tails loose so he can find the hot skin underneath. Evan has defined abs that he can’t wait to trace with his tongue and Eddie’s thumbs fit nicely into the groove of a hip, fingers wrapping around both flanks. 

For such a big man, Evan has a tiny, nipped in waist. There’s a growing bulge stretching the fine weave of fabric over the fly that is almost obscene and Eddie wants to nibble at it until Evan is desperate then slowly pull the zipper down to reveal the prize hidden underneath.  Distracted by thoughts of sucking Evan and the noises he’d make while their tongues map each other’s mouths, Eddie’s hands discover more fodder for later as Evan’s belt gives way. A pair of firm, round ass cheeks being enough to grasp in his palm and squeeze makes Evan buck against him, breaking the kiss to give a desperate whine. 

They haven’t even made it out of the elevator yet and Eddie is seconds away from going to his knees and blowing Evan when he remembers what he promised.  It takes every ounce of restraint he has to move his hands back to Evan’s waist and release the handful he’d had. 

The list of things he wants to do to Evan is growing.  

Tinkling chimes announce that they’ve reached their destination and the doors open into the small entry hall, the light catching Evan to show Eddie what he’s done.  Evan’s lips are swollen and pink, parted as he catches his breath while sky blue eyes are hungrily locked on Eddie’s. 

Removing his hands from Evan’s waist, Eddie grasps the lapels of his suit jacket to tug him along, walking backwards. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

Evan snorts, a smile crossing his handsome face as he rolls his eyes.  “Humble.  Right.”

“Want a tour?”

“I want to know the quickest way to your bedroom.”

[cryptidsurveys]

Tuesday, September 17th, 2024.

Will you be single over winter? Most likely. I really can't see myself getting into a relationship any time soon. Plus, there's not even anyone on my radar.

Are you mad at anyone right now? Alex has been on my last nerve for some time now, and that nerve is frayed to all hell. I also found out today that she might not be leaving until the 27th. I know it's only a few more days, but seriously, I could have cried right then and there.

Do you add random questions into surveys when you take them? I don't, but I will hunt around for a survey with specific questions I want to answer, or at least something that will allow me to segue into something I wish to talk about.

Where do you wanna live when you grow up? I am "grown up," but in my dream life, I'd be living in a cabin somewhere like Beulah or Rye. I'd be out of the hustle and bustle of the city, but close enough so that a regular commute to the animal shelter (and the grocery store, therapy, etc) wouldn't be out of the question. Realistically, though, I'm probably going to live in this city for the rest of my life. Either in this house or in an apartment if I can ever manage to afford one.

Are you wearing jeans, shorts, sweatpants, or pajama pants? I'm wearing dark blue sweatpants.

Would you get married if you could right now? No.

Do you consider yourself spoiled? No, but I would consider my life rather comfortable. All of my needs are met and then some.

Do you get annoyed when you see someone you don’t like? Alex is the only person I strongly dislike, and yeah, I do get annoyed. I also get rather anxious and afraid of making even the smallest mistake. I know it's important for things to be done correctly, but she's extremely critical, far beyond what I feel is necessary (and not even really towards me specifically, but just in general - she mostly talks poorly of other people). I'm already hard on myself and have a tendency to doubt my abilities, but it just adds this whole external layer of confirmation that I'm not good enough. Except I don't entirely believe that. Which is cool because Past Me would have used even the most innocent correction or fleeting expression of frustration as proof of my incompetence, but now - even when faced with a hyper critical individual on par with the hateful voice in my head - it's like…you know…maybe this isn't reality. Maybe I'm actually doing alright. Maybe even better than I think. But I'm so curious to see how our cattery team evolves once we're free from her influence. Rather than constantly watching our backs, we'll have each other's backs instead.

Could you see yourself dropping out of high school? I did drop out of high school. I ended up getting a GED.

Is there anyone you want to see right now? Not really. I mean, I would like to see my mom - she did invite me to go see a movie with her and some of her friends this evening - but I declined because I knew I would be too tired to be good company.

What were you doing 12 a.m. last night? I was listening to a video by Lights Out Library about the history of cosmetics and perfume while trying to fall back to sleep.

Would you go out in public looking like you do now? No.

Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 months from now? No.

How was your weekend? I spent both Saturday and Sunday at the shelter (full days). However, if we're going with my days off, then my weekend just started. It's a long one too, since I took Friday off as well so I could go to the Chili Festival. On Wednesday, I'm getting up early to go grocery shopping and then I have a therapy appointment at 9:30am. On Thursday, I'm planning on visiting the Mountain Park. It should all be very nice.

Are you a mean person? I can be mean from time to time, but I don't think I would qualify as a Mean Person.

What woke you up today? My circadian rhythm, I guess.

What is something you disliked about your day? AhhhHHHhhH. (Aside from *that*, though, it's been a good day.)

Have you kissed anyone whose name started with a T? Yeah.

Did you date anyone last summer? No.

Where will you be twelve hours from now? In bed.

Do you remember the first time you kissed the last person you kissed? I don't.

Have you ever slept on a couch with that person? I don't think so.

Have you written a letter to a soldier? I feel like I might have done something like that in grade school. It could just be a memory I borrowed from somewhere/someone else, though.

Ever been in a perfect relationship? No.

Is the last person you kissed mad at you? I have no idea how they feel about me at this point.

How do you feel about the person who texted you last? That was my dad. He's my favorite person in this whole fvcked up world.

What are you looking forward to? Enjoying these next few days off. Shopping for new holiday goodies to try. Getting all this recent shit off my chest in therapy. Spending time in the mountains; possibly going on a short hike. Browsing the Chili Festival. Cuddling with my kitties.

Do you think you are an argumentative person? No. I'm pretty nonconfrontational. I'll rant about things to trusted individuals, but rarely ever say anything to the people in question. I do have my limits, though, and when they're reached…it's messy. I still haven't found an effective middle ground.

How did you feel when you woke up today? A bit sleepy but generally okay.

Have you ever had a best friend who was of the opposite sex? Yeah.

What time did you go to sleep last night? Around 7:00pm.

Where did you buy the shirt you’re wearing now? I got it at the animal shelter.

What color are your eyes? Hazel.

The last song you listened to? Some classical song on the radio on the way home earlier.

Do you believe change is always good? Change is what you make of it. Everything is what you make of it. Like, on a similar note, I was wondering WTF kind of lesson I was supposed to get out of this current nonsense, and the only conclusion I came to was that I was going to have to make one up in hindsight. It's just the way of things, lmao. You gaslight yourself into believing that all the shit you went through had some greater purpose. ;D

Where are the majority of your clothes from? Walmart, thrift stores, and the animal shelter.

[1d1195]

Sam! The newest part of Most was EVERYTHING!! Now you know absolutely LOVED Lauren getting publicly embarrassed by Harry calling her out like that! I swear I was so happy knowing that she finally got exposed and she technically exposed herself lol I do think it was so right for Harry being the one to find out because I fear the MC would have just been too nice to her lol but also I think it gives him some closure? Idk if that’s the right word but I think it helps fill in some gaps for that time of the breakup. ANYWAYS loved reading that lol

Now you have been putting this couple through so much but honestly I love it! Harry was literally in shambles while driving to her apartment and he had to find out she was TRAPPED IN HER BUILDING THATS ONE FIRE?!? And she DIDNT REALIZE IT?!? I would start crying ngl if I was in his position lol I was so invested when reading the last half especially when she dropped her love confession as almost a goodbye?! I’m so excited to see how their story will be wrapped up! They are so in love I can’t! So so good bestie as always you’re killing it with these stories!

Also sorry it took so long to reply back! Had such a busy week and I’m just so tired lol my summer classes end in 3 ish weeks so this upcoming week are my midterms(so crazy 😔)! Idk when fall classes start exactly but I think the last week of September maybe? Idk I’m avoiding knowing it lol and don’t be sorry for asking questions! I love questions! I commute to school so I’ve never lived on campus. I live with my parents still so it has its pros and cons lol

Though I’m so surprised you almost start your school year again?? Idk if I’ve just lost the concept of time but I thought you still had a pretty good chunk left of summer break for you?! I can only imagine how hard it is to be “on” all the time especially as a teacher and I hope that you do set goals for not overwhelming/working yourself this year! I just know you can do it my love because you are so important! Always rooting for you💗

I LOVE that you’re having some free time to read! And honestly some smut/romance books are needed sometimes so I don’t blame you for gobbling them up! Anything that you come up for Monday I’m sure it will be great even if it’s sad lol and a check in is always nice! I love to see how the couples are doing! I was just thinking about the Zipper couple bc I saw a horse drawn carriage yesterday when I went out lol and I LOVE YOUR RAMBLING!!! I could never get tired of it or you!! Love little updates on the life of Sam lol

Hope this weekend treats you well and sending the best vibes! Love you lots!!!-💜

Hi!!!! I have been dying for Harry to figure it out. I know it took a while but I hope it was kind of worth the wait. It's funny you say that about the MC finding out 👀 It def gives him closure. I'm so glad to be done with Lauren. (Although I'm sure I'm going to have to write an extra about her running into Lauren hehehe)

I just LOVE to have drama and make Harry stress out when I write 🤭🤭 There's something DEFINITELY wrong with me its in all my romance books basically. I'm just a sucker for a protective guy getting all worried about his lady 😅 HE DEF was SOBBING. I think I wrote he was crying but it was subtle because I had to make sure he could still see but maybe that's the next part hahahahaha but in my head he was a blubbering mess 🤭 This part was SO short when I originally wrote it. I know it's pretty dialogue heavy and I just couldn't figure out how to make it any longer so I just kept throwing stuff in and I was like "she should just tell him. It's pretty obvious anyway."

I am so appreciative of your compliments as always 💕

Please don't apologize! I bet you're exhausted! 3 weeks seems like forever. That's interesting you start toward the end of September. There's NOTHING wrong with living at home and commuting. I have an apartment and I love my bf but I would move back home to my INSANE family in a heartbeat if it meant I could save more money 😅 I was lucky to live on campus because of scholarships and stuff but even still I was only an hour away from home if I needed anything and after my first year I had my car with me.

I have one more full week off but I've been SO busy I feel like I didn't really get a break :( idk. I know people complain about teachers having all this time off but it goes quick and shoving all the things you need to do into it is difficult. I haven't even seen like half of my friends that I wanted to see which I normally budget my time off with. The thought of meeting up with them is exhausting and as I've mentioned before I always do the reaching out so that's exhausting in it's own right. I think I will likely have to book myself into September and hang out with them at that time.

I actually reread parts of Zipper the other day 😭 I think they probably rotate through my top 3 couples and stories. But what's a little sad is I would love to write more about them, but I think they might be done. I feel (hope) I wrote a really solid ending for them and I could write about their kids or whatever but idk if that's worth it. I like to think of them as all wrapped up--zipped closed, if you will. 🤭

LOVE YOU hope your weekend allows you some time to yourself and your midterms are easy peasy 💕

xoxo

[sun-like-dem-bones]

Does anyone else feel like they're scraping by on basically handouts?

I know many in the US can relate that we rely on staying on our parents insurance till the cutoff at 26. I even got away with using both mine (when I had any) and my parents insurance to save money at the eye doc. Being half blind is a hugely taken-for-granted cost in life. It's still expensive no matter who's your insurer. Someone tell me an insurance plan for free exams and glasses/contacts even EXISTS.

I am so. So willing to do things in other people's names. I started making appointments for massages in my mother's name as she has a bunch of credits rolling over that she can't use. I wouldn't be getting massages at all otherwise.

I use my sister's phone number at various department stores when I had to spend the whole day looking for an adult luxury type look for a first impression luncheon at my job. Since she is a credit card member to big store chains, they occasionally have good deals only for those customers. And I just give them a "hmm let's try this number". And like, they KNOW. They just ask "insert sister's name" and I say "yes that's it!"

Having nice clothes is something I can't afford after having been laid off for two months. Let alone putting together a "look" all in one shopping trip. Usually I can only afford to thrift my clothes, which is where any sort of quality clothes from the 1990s and 2000s has ended up anyway. Being able to dress myself and slowly build my closet for less than $50 a month? A doable expense. Furniture from homegoods or Walmart? Or target when there's a sale? It'll have to do. Even if it is lightweight crap that will barely survive one apartment move. At least it won't require strong-person(s) labor cost.

I'm sure people have been sharing phone numbers for retail points for much longer than the birth of streaming subscriptions. No one is a goody two shoe about sharing services and now for most things you can't. I wonder how those van lifers even do their own.

Having room on your credit card(s) just to pay rent while you're laid off is a huge save or I would lose everything and move to another state with my mom. Probably couldn't rent again for 7 years and I could let mom watch me struggle to even get out of her hair. Look mom the system you thrive(d) in makes it impossible for me to even be independent from you! So much for empty nesting! 😜

It is an eventuality I have to accept. I don't know how often layoffs happen in the past but both times had nothing to do with my quality of work in the short span of basically about 3-4 years of corporate work? If I get laid off again this year, the state government won't help me again. I will probably sink $10k more into debt in a matter of months. And not much less than that if I got laid off in any year after this one.

I look for remote/hybrid jobs because I subtract the cost of the salary/hourly pay with the gas it takes for rush hour in a major metropolitan area. My internship was a huge help to even get me where I am today... Two hour commute, twice a day. Laid off the minute my university decided they won't require internships due to the pandemic.

Oh my god and do you know how long I can put off car maintenance!? Thankfully it's nothing serious like a check engine light or constantly having to pour more oil into a car that just eats a quart like its maple syrup every week. But I do have an axle throwing grease from like 6 months ago. It's basically no bigger an issue than a toddler burping up their spit. My tires are 6 years old now from the previous owner and the guy said the sidewall cracking is basically very slow dry rot while I have plenty of tread left. I feel like a grandma who's going to eventually hand her car down to some very appreciative grandkids. Old but low mileage and well kept up with.

Having folks that did decent for their time can be a huge privilege. Some well-doing parents are assholes and don't help at all for sure. I got a used reliable car after graduating so I could drive downtown to college and work. And it's literally a luxury nowadays to have a car as reliable as that thing for that long and for what? No car payment and therefore minimal insurance cost. Throwing 115,000 miles on it in, I dunno, 3 years? (I don't know what was more mileage, delivering pizza or commuting 80mi to and from work and college for a couple semesters) Gotta blow $600 on a new radiator or alternator here or there? Eh. Couple hood smushes from fender benders? Pff. Nuthin'

Well. Except gas.

Your boomer parents could even call it a handout to let you stay with them at a discounted rate of rent these days. Even more so if it's free as long as you're working/in school.

I wouldn't have a degree without my family's help, because, hear me out.

The government wouldn't even loan me enough to cover the cost that I couldn't afford.

Between the maximum that they would loan me, and what I could come up with working full-time summers and part time during school, LiViNg at HoMe, would only cover 2/3rds of the price of my tuition.

Frankly having to do both school and work hurt my ability to do well in actually retaining the information, and having better grades. For difficult degrees like art, architecture and really any of the sciences, I barely passed when I didn't have to work that one year. And then we decided well, you scraped by with a D in one class so you will be behind a year to take things in order. It was already unaffordable at this 5 year trajectory plan. Come home and figure something else out.

It's insane to me that so much had to happen to even get me where I am and-

I just. I feel like, you're either struggling at rock bottom, or even if you have a 401k started, some level of ability to see a doctor, like, if you're really sick bad, free coping mechanisms like massages and occasional therapy sessions, you're still barely scraping and often your needs can't be met, and rarely any wants.

I still can only afford the cheapest gym, veterinarian, sometimes even diy mechanic. The things I do have built up such as clothes, jewelry, purses, pots for some plants- they only exist from birthday gifts, dead relatives, or the time of my youth before I knew I was supposed to save my good-grade money just to have extra I dunno $3000 laying around for a month without a job??

I may have decent funds now to afford the housing cost that basically eats people, wallets, and sanity, as if it were the blue pacman eating dollars around the board and rather turning our souls INTO ghosts, but I certainly don't have enough TIME.

Like. How does anyone move up in life without free or cheap handouts?

And to think that I make the amount that my folks made individually. Which together raised 2.5 kids on, lived in a house (which was bought on 1 income), and had 2 cars and 2 dogs?

I just have me and two cats and we can't even afford van-life. Let alone an apartment by ourselves. We'd have a hurricane, a fender bender or major maintenance, a feline dental cleaning before his teeth fall out, every couple months something happens.

I don't think the middle class used to rely on handouts.

Aw crap when was the last time I saw the dentist.

[celestialpotat0]

july begins

When i last wrote in here, i was sad having had to leave the tahoe area knowing that it might possibly be my last trip into the mountains this summer. last chance to experience beautiful wilderness in all of summer's glory. and i ended my reflection with how i needed to turn to appreciating small, everyday occurrences.

so in the spirit of cherishing the ordinary life on the peninsula, away from my friends and family in socal, away from the frequent fun adventures of my 20s, and not being able to travel bc of working more than 40hrs a week lol, wanted to jot down favorite moments from last few weeks:

thinh's fourth of july bbq party at her house on 7/3. woke up the next day after the party with a headache from not drinking enough water the night before, i fail. it's been a cold summer, like why is it freezing outside at night in july. but i enjoyed meeting nice people, karaokeing was a blast, and am really happy to have such a wonderful person as a friend. we work at different hospitals but can relate in many ways. i've always considered summer to be full of events that break up the monotony of the rest of the year, and i'm happy this felt like that. instead of the new normal adulting summer when im no longer graduating anything or celebrating the end of one chapter and the beginning of the next

on 7/4 we went to a college campus on a hill and were able to see fireworks from foster city, redwood city, shoreline amphitheater, and more

dinner and drinks with lauren, doris, and chloe. it hasnt been easy leaving behind my friends in socal and moving to a new area; during the first part of my time here, there were occasions when i cried feeling lonely. ive really made an effort to use dance as a means to feel connected to others. you cant just expect friends to happen, you have to put in the work to build a community of support. i'm grateful to have found some ladies who share a love of dance. i like that we all come from different occupations and grew up in different parts of the world but can bond over participating in this art.

swam outdoors on a hot day in a 25-meter pool. free of electronics for an hour, just focused on each breath and motion to propel me through the water

moved into a new apartment. the novelty in and of itself is enough to make me happy, which says questionable things about me such as to what extent have i fallen victim to consumerism. at my previous apartment i never fully unpacked. i had plastic bags of stuff strewn haphazardly in bathroom cabinets. i kept prioritizing other things in my life over organizing my bathroom, closet, and pantry. but now everything in the bathroom is exactly where i want it to be. my small victory is so satisfying: unpacked and organized the bathroom completely. im not going to allow myself to travel until i fully organize the apartment this time.

I feel like it's the beginning of a new phase in the bay area. im getting more accustomed to work, and my commute is short now. i have a good amount of PTO planned. now have a list of activities that have been discussed to do with friends and the only problem is lack of free time--and lack of time is a better problem to have than lack of people who are willing to do them with you. im currently on a hiatus from scheduled dance, and for the time being im dancing only on a drop-in basis, which has actually been a huge sigh of relief; it's been good for my mental health to have less commitments on my plate. now my days off are actually days off where i can choose to dance if i want. while it's extremely rewarding to dance, not having any true days off (bc i would always have dance scheduled and mandatory on my days off from work) was detrimental and making me burnt out. in this new phase, i want to expect to travel less and say no more often and reserve time on my days off to be truly off.

[rubyreduji]

Begin Again — hvc [thirteen.]

summary: but on a wednesday, in a cafe, i watched it begin again

tags: fluff, romance, slice of life, non-idol!au, gn!reader (wears heels) wc: 1.8k an: first installment of thirteen. !!! its a bit short but i think its the best fic to start us off with! also i think the headers are so cute

m.list

“I am so sorry!” The guy who just ran right into you now looks mortified as all of the items in your hands go spilling onto the ground. You watch your bag of groceries rip open as it falls onto the ground, your groceries scattering everywhere. “Oh shit!”

The guy starts to scramble to grab all of your items. It’s not that big of a deal. You have a cardboard box in your car that you can load everything into. You’re not angry at the guy, it was an honest mistake and there was no real harm.

Soon the guy comes back and helps you put all of your run away groceries into the box that you’ve now brought over to the scene of the accident.

“I’m incredibly sorry about that!” He bows low to you. “Let me make it up to you. Do you like coffee?”

You do. You really like coffee. But you’re not sure you should agree to go with a random guy you just met. Unfortunately you have very low will power and he is very cute so before you know it his name is in your phone and you have plans to get coffee together tomorrow. Because of course you do.

You stare at yourself in your full body mirror. Your eyes trace up and down your form, a small frown set on your face. You generally like your outfit. There’s nothing special about it, but it makes you look more put together than most of your clothes do without being overdressed. You glance down at your feet and sigh.

So you have heels on.

It’s been a while since you’ve worn heels. Not because you don’t want to, you like wearing heels, even if they hurt your feet. No you never do anymore because he didn’t like when you wore them and after you guys broke you up you kind of just never got back into the habit of wearing them.

This is a good time to start, though.

You’re pretty sure this isn’t a date. You met this guy for five minutes in the grocery store parking lot barely twenty-four hours ago. Hansol is the guy’s name. He is just being nice, making up for making you drop your groceries. He was very handsome though and the traitorous part of your brain tells you that you wouldn’t mind if it was a date. You shake that thought off and step away from the mirror, deciding to keep the heels on. If nothing else it’s for you and your own happiness.

You lock your door and turn on your music as you start to walk to the cafe Hansol chose. It’s not far from your apartment so you figured you would make the small trek no problem. You turn the volume on your phone up and smile when you hear the song.

It’s one of your favorites but it’s been a while since you’ve heard it. Your ex-boyfriend always told you it was silly and that it didn’t make any sense. It was shortly after that you removed it from your playlist, not wanting to be made fun of again.

Your ex-boyfriend. He was certainly one of a kind. One of the worst relationships you’ve been in and hands down the messiest break up you’ve ever experienced. Even eight months later you can still feel his effects on your life.

You’re not sure why he’s on your mind so much today. Is it because you’re going on a date? Not that you can really call this a date. It’s just coffee. Still…it’s been a while since you went out in a manner like this.

The cafe comes into view and you hurry over to it. It’s a cute little place that you haven’t been to before but you keep seeing it on your daily commute and you’re happy to finally have an excuse to drop by.

You walk into the cafe and start to look around for a table to sit at. You assume Hansol is going to be a bit late. You’ve never gone out with a man who hasn’t been late to meet up. While scanning the cafe your eyes land on a hand waving at you.

Oh.

You start to make your way over to where Hansol is sitting. Guilt bites at you as you do. In expecting him to be late you yourself left your apartment a bit later which has now caused him to wait for you.

As you get closer Hansol stands up and moves to pull your chair out for you. You thank him as you sit. You can remember the last time someone has pulled your chair out for you and your heart flutters a bit at the action.

“I ordered you a drink, but if you don’t like it you can totally get something else, I won’t be offended,” he tells you.

“Oh! Thank you.” You smile at him before picking up the cup in front of you. You take a sip before a small giggle erupts from your throat.

“What?” Hansol looks at you a bit confused. “Is it bad?”

“No, no! It’s just…this is my favorite drink. I’m surprised you were able to get it right on the first try. Not even people who are close to me remember my drink order,” you say. 

“Lucky guess,” Hansol laughs a bit too.

“So outside of running into people in parking lots, what else do you like to do?” You tease him and Hansol flushes a bit. 

“I really am sorry about that. But…otherwise? I’m really into music,” Hansol says.

“Oh! Me too. What kind of music do you like?”

“A little of everything. Always love a little 2000s pop punk throwback though. I go hard to some Avril Lavigne.”

“I love Avril Lavigne!” You exclaim.

“Really?” Hansol perks up at this. “None of my friends really like her but Sk8er Boi is one of my favorite songs.”

“That’s funny, nobody I know really enjoys her music either,” you admit. All your friends are more into the top pop songs and your ex absolutely hated any music that wasn’t the worst rap you’ve ever heard.

“Well I guess it’s a good thing I ran into you then, huh?”

You decide that you like Hansol. He’s cute and funny and charming and he tells great stories and you’ve been sitting in the cafe for over an hour now just talking. You may be a little loud and keep getting glares shot at you from other other patrons but you two just can’t stop laughing.

Hansol’s laugh is one of the prettiest things you’ve ever heard. It’s deep and he makes genuine “hahaha” noises that get you laughing as well. You love the way he smiles so wide, all teeth, when he laughs. His eyes crescent and his cheeks bunch up and it’s so intoxicating and contagious.

You’ve never considered yourself a funny person. Your jokes rarely land and your sense of humor never fit with your ex. Here Hansol is though, dying every time you make a quip about something, smacking at the table and throwing his head back. His delight reminds you of something akin to a little kid and you realize that you haven’t been this happy and carefree in months.

The conversation flows easily between you as you jump from topic to topic, trading stories and opinions. Despite the ever-changing subject of interest everything flows so easily that you don’t even feel the time passing. It’s easy to talk to Hansol and somehow you’ve gone from talking about music to arguing about what the superior band-aid brand is.

“Band-aids aren’t actually called band-aids, that’s literally the brand name. It’s so widely used that people have accepted that as the name. It’s like Kleenex and tissues!” You argue.

“Fine, fine, I digress.” Hansol holds his hands up in surrender. “But now what kind of band-aids do you prefer? Because personally I hate plastic-y ones that leave residue all over my skin.”

You’re about to respond but your words get caught in your throat and you can’t help but laugh a bit as your lips curl up into an incredulous smile.

“What?” Hansol looks at you, a confused smile playing at his lips.

“I’m sorry, it’s just...I really like talking to you.”

And it’s the truth. You’ve never met someone you click so easily with. You feel like you can relax and let your guard down with Hansol, more comfortable with him in the last hour than you ever were in the whole duration of your last relationship. 

Hansol is everything that your ex wasn’t in the best possible way. He listens to you talk and makes an effort to understand you and doesn’t demean your feelings. You guys feed off of each other’s energies and talk about tops you both are interested in. It’s a good change of pace and it has your heart bursting out of your chest, giving you hope after your slump of not believing in love anymore.

“I like talking to you too, Y/N,” Hansol tells you, flashing you big grin and you can’t take it anymore.

“Is this a date?” You blurt out. “Or are you just being nice because of yesterday?”

“Ah,” Hansol blushes a bit, “I won’t lie and say that I don’t wish it was a date, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything and-”

You reach across the table and grab his hand, effectively shutting him up. “Good because I want this to be a date.” He squeezes your hand.

“Hey, I don’t think the people around us enjoy how loud we’re being. Want to bounce?” 

“Sure. My place is a few blocks away if you wanna come over,” you offer. If this was anyone else they would take the implications differently, but Hansol has proven to be nothing but a gentleman so he just smiles at you and tells you to lead the way.

As you walk you guys get back into some random conversation. It makes you think about how your ex-boyfriend never did anything like this with you. That thought annoys you. One because you truly did deserve to be treated better and two because why are you thinking about him right now?

It’s been eight months since you and your ex broke it off but you still obviously feel his affects to this day. What if you can’t be good enough for Hansol because of him? You glance over at Hansol, thinking about bringing these concerns up to him, but your words die in your throat as you look at his bright face.

“I think my favorite is Rodoulph obviously, but my sister likes the Grinch so we have to watch both every year,” Hansol says. He then continues on about other Christmas traditions and you realize that whatever you were going to say can wait. All of your worries seem to disappear when he talks and you want to enjoy this moment right now for how it is, just you and him, no thoughts of anyone else.

With Hansol’s warm hand in yours you smile to yourself. It’s been a while since your heart has felt so full but maybe, just maybe, Hansol can make it begin again. 

taglist: @pandorashbox @leejihoonownsmyheart @soonhoonietrash @enhacolor @niktwazny303 @chaimi-yuta @y0lkz @embrace-themagic @kayleeshinee [can't tag :( @baldi-2 @moshiyuron @coupsgyus]

join my taglist: here!

[dourpeep]

WAIT. I'm losing my mind over that friends to lovers post you reblogged. All I can think about is college Albedo + mutual pining, romantic tension, and friends to lovers OTL

- Leaving little post it notes in his bag or inside the cover of his textbook to tell him to have a nice day or remind him to take care of himself because you know he has a tendency to work too hard sometimes!! And what if he meets up with Sucrose and Timaeus because they like to catch up and sometimes discuss their research or homework, and they see Albedo hiding a grin behind his books and think that he's solved a particularly difficult problem but it's just a cute little note you slipped him when he wasn't looking

- You stay up studying for exams with Albedo and he dozes off on your shoulder so you sit there afraid to move because you don't want to wake him but you're also dying inside

- The two of you go to the library to work but eventually get distracted so it turns into the two you sitting close together on a couch and reading each other sections from your favourite books

- I can also see him as someone who rambles about labs or new research he's absolutely taken by. Weeks later when you mention something he said before, he's a little surprised but you just tell him that you tried your best to understand everything because you know it's important to him and maybe his heart skipped a little

- Going off your headcanons: Albedo looking for little specimens and deciding it could be a fun outing with Klee so she can get some sunshine and you find the two of them in the park. You end up joining them and Albedo's heart softens seeing you and Klee laughing and smiling together!

- I remember this little headcanon you had where he snorts when laughing sometimes and imagine Albedo letting one slip out while he's with you, and Kaeya teasing him later on.

- Eventually, his friends start asking if the two of you are together because of the silent affection and teasing between the two of you. Albedo knows he likes you but he's scared a relationship will ruin everything and you're too important to lose even if it means he never says anything, but little did he know, you have feelings for him too.

Anyway, I hope you have a nice day and week! Sorry about this monster of an ask lmao

NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR ALBEDO

NEVER

Like... there are two characters that I seldom, if ever, turn down and that's my beloved Albedo and beloathed Scaramouche- If you don't want me to shut up about a topic??? Like just utter word vomit???? Bring them up. Bring them up, I dare you--

Okay okay okay okay now lemme just--

oops. 1.4k words. Enjoy your headcanon drabbles, courtesy of me being a hard simp for Albedo--

College au Albedo is pretty close to how he normally is! Brilliant, though having difficulties with making friends and keeping said friends, getting carried away with experiments (did you know if you're on good enough terms with the professors, they'll vouch for you so you can use the lab when there aren't classes using them?? Yeah)...so the friendship that you have with him is certainly the closest one he has.

It'd be the kind where you knock on his dorm or apartment door at 11:45pm with some takeout and your textbooks and he'll let you in without a second thought. You slip inside and settle on the floor next to the coffee table cross-legged, setting the food out as if you don't live a good walk away. He wasn't going to sleep any time soon anyway.

Like the kind of friendship where your hand instinctively slips into his to tug him towards something cool you found or to the café where you tend to go after classes.

Even after you get to your destination, you don't let go.

Now that that has been established--the little notes you slip into his bag or on his books really began as a little reminder. Despite his keen intellect, Albedo tends to easily forget things because his mind is always going onto the next thing. So, being the great friend you are, would just slip a note to remind him to take breaks, eat a snack, or that you're supposed to go and meet Sucrose and Timaeus after class to prep for the upcoming exams.

Neither of you really know when they began to turn into doodles or 'seemingly platonic declarations of adoration'. It's normal for friends to write a heart besides "Don't forget I love you!", right? Yeah.

The smile that makes it's way on Albedo's face is unmistakable the moment that Sucrose accidentally stumbles upon a sticky note carefully tucked in one of his notebooks.

-

Speaking of Albedo and his tendencies to get carried away with stuff, he often functions on...minimal sleep.

Those nights that you pop up at his place to study or just hang out, he often ends up dozing off, glasses sliding uncomfortably down the bridge of his nose and hair tousled out of it's usual style.

You never plan to stay the night (though even when he's awake he insists you do because it's not as safe at night to make the commute home), but you can't just disturb his sleep when it's the first time in a while that he's probably gone without taking a capsule or two of melatonin to help himself back into some semblance of a sleep schedule.

It's these moments that you remember just how soft his hair is and just how nice his shampoo smells.

Also that he's a cuddler.

You awake in the morning, back aching and eyes squinting against the sudden brightness of the world around you and limbs tangled with your best friend. He's unbothered because his face is half-shoved against the crook of your neck.

-

With the library, you often find yourselves in a little game. There's so much to learn and so, so many topics through the old vanilla-scent found between pages!!

So trips to the library end up with the two of you digging and sifting to find a topic you've never heard of, sit and read for 15 minutes, then proceed to explain said topic the best you can (without looking!!). It almost always ends up with a few chuckles from Albedo as you fumble explaining (and half-making up) information and Albedo's (unfairly) great short-term memory winning out.

Speaking of...between actually studying and your little topic games, Albedo turns to you to bounce off his current observations and ideas. Sucrose and Timaeus, though both in similar majors as Albedo, are busy with their own projects and research to the point that they don't really have the time to help with stuff as extensive as his research.

Annnnd, naturally, since you don't have anything better to do and are almost always by his side, you play that part!

You listen intently no matter how dense the subject may be and no matter if you do or do not have the background knowledge.

When you ask him to explain something you don't quite understand, he can't help but blink in surprise because you were listening??? And wanted to really understand? You prove time and time again (even days, weeks later) that you listened to every word that tumbled out during his rambles.

And of course you do! Albedo's one of the most important people to you, so it's only natural that you want to show interest in his interests.

Also it's pretty cool to find out those random bits of trivia (like lobsters and their repairable telomeres-).

--

Klee!!!

Oh man, the first time that you met Klee was a pretty hectic day for Albedo. Due to his Aunt Alice's incredibly busy schedule, he tends to care for Klee on days that he doesn't have class.

However, that particular day he just barely finished class before he had to go and pick her up from school.

With you in tow, that is.

Immediately, the little girl brightens up at your presence, no doubt excited from what she's heard about you (listening in to Albedo's conversations with Alice and the embarrassed tone in his voice when he realizes that he's let your name slipped again and now Aunt Alice wants to know about this particular friend who's captured dear little Bedo's attentions). He's relieved when Klee doesn't immediately reveal that.

From then on, Klee insists that Albedo invites you for every outing they have.

The cafe for a quick treat? The bookstore to sit and read a few books?

"Oh, please please please?? Can they come Albedo? Klee promises that she'll be good!"

Who is he to say no?

But above all, those park days are his favorite. You end up running around with Klee, lifting her up so she can reach a particular leaf on a branch, squatting down to see a bug or lizard that she's entirely enthralled by--all while Albedo sits under the shade of a tree on a blanket, sketchbook and pencil in hand.

You don't know it (even though there's many occasions where he's shown you his sketchbook), but the pages are filled with your smile.

-

Around you, Albedo's found that he's most comfortable.

There's no need to hide insecurities or hold his tongue when something particularly exciting comes to mind...nor does he hold back in his laughter. Especially with your insistence that his laugh is cute.

That scenario with Kaeya is entirely an accident, proof of just how used to your presence he's become.

It's a late night and you're out with a bigger group of friends than usual, some friends that Albedo's only known since the start of college, but definitely good ones.

With a drink in your hand you all sit at a large table, chatting about anything and everything when you crack a joke and Albedo snorts.

Not like a snort with his normally quiet chuckle, either.

Instead, he's laughing hard, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes and stomach hurting (and maybe it's because of the few sips of drink he's had) and he snorts. The moment the sound escapes him and he's trying hard to calm back down, Kaeya grins.

He's most definitely one of the first people to put two and two together.

After all, Albedo keeps to himself, even around them. But with you around? There's a certain spark of life that ignites.

-

It's no surprise that the two of you are close when all is said and done.

But that doesn't stop either of you from choking and cheeks from flushing when someone asks if you're a couple. It happens often--too often to count--and ranges between Kaeya's teasing comments and a few sweet words from an elderly woman passing by your table at the cafe.

And you laugh--you and Albedo--because no, no, you're just friends.

Right?

Then the light hits your features just right, illuminating you in a soft glow that makes your eyes shine and--

It's undeniable the way that he feels for you. The sudden quickening of his heartbeat is proof enough. You slide your drink towards him for him to try and he does the same, eyes unable to leave your lips as you take a sip and then smile.

Between the cracks of his appreciation, of this warmth, dread seeps.

Though...that was just over a week ago.

Sitting down back at his apartment, your head resting on his chest and your hands intertwined while you watch whatever's on tv, you shift. Your lips meet in a sweet kiss.

And Albedo wonders how neither of you managed to see it sooner.

[duskamethyst]

cozen.

a/n: just realized that the colors of my banners are different on laptop and phone and that pissed me off.

word count: 3.9k 

genre: smut, nsfw

warnings: noncon/dubcon, exhibitionism, public sex, thigh riding, squirting, sexual assault, stalking, power abuse

pairing: aizawa x f!reader

summary: where aizawa deliberately takes on the roll as your guardian inside the train, but of course he has other plans.

the worst place to be during the rush hour would be inside a train. 

aizawa never bothered to commute because he often walked to work and back home but for you, he was willing to make an exception. 

you caught his attention during one of his evening patrols, walking alone in the big city with a short skirt that accentuated your curves and long legs. aizawa discovered the fact that you used the train to get to work daily and with the fact that you were always alone, he knew that you were always put in a vulnerable situation. so, he thought; why not keep an eye on you? maybe his job as a hero could give him a little advantage too.

like a child, he finds himself eager to get on the train. of course, he doesn’t really know which coach you would be standing in but his commute turns out to be so much worth it whenever he does end up standing in the same one as you.

in the morning, you would be there before he gets in and he’s the first one to step off the train in the evening. he assumes that you live somewhere closer to the end of the train’s final stop but he doesn’t know exactly where. so far, he has learned which station you use to wait for the train for your ride home from work. 

and today seems to be one of those days where he is lucky enough to see you in the same coach, squeezed between a throng of people. aizawa always noticed the fed up and uncomfortable look on your face as you held on to the bar but it was because of no other than a pervert deliberately rubbing his front on your backside. 

he’s sort of mad that you just let it happen, quietly accepting the assault being thrown at you. he can see how your face is contorted into anger and vexation as you try to nudge the man with your elbow and what he assumes as the man muttering half-assed apologies before he starts to blatantly repeat the same shit again. 

you look around pleadingly for someone to intervene and your hands are balled into tight fists, ready to swing any moment but you hesitate because you’re afraid of being the one who will end up getting into trouble and especially since you don’t have any concrete evidence that you’re being harassed either.

for a moment, his gaze locks briefly with yours before you turn away, probably to seek for someone else to come to your aid. he knows that almost no heroes ride the train, since they either patrol on the streets or keep watch from up above but he is currently the outlier, and what kind of hero would he be if he just continues to turn a blind eye on this? maybe it’s time for him to steal the opportunity to play hero and finally get an excuse to talk to you after a long time of observing you from the sidelines. 

aizawa slowly pushes the people aside to make his way over to your side and takes you by surprise by putting his hand on your shoulder.

“baby, why didn’t you pick up the phone?” he sighs and says a little too loudly so the creep behind you can hear. you look at him perplexingly but he just gives you a silent look that tells you to play along. 

“u-uh.. i’m sorry. my phone is on silent.” you try to reply with the same tone. “but i’m glad you found me! thought i’ve lost you.” 

the way you inch closer to him doesn’t go unnoticed, especially how your boob is literally pressing on his side. aizawa quickly glances to the man who still seems to be unbothered by the fake acting (not that he can tell) so he spins you around to face him instead. 

good lord. maybe he shouldn’t have done that. 

now aizawa can clearly see that your tits are squished against his chest through the unbuttoned top of your little white blouse. your gaze strays somewhere else, probably in embarrassment or maybe you don’t mind at all– he can’t tell nor can he think straight right now but he’s here for one purpose and he’s going to honor it. 

“how’s work today?” he inquires, turning your head to him with his fingers so it would seem like you both are engaging in a natural conversation between lovers. he is able to see your tired eyes up close but they seem to carry the same soft look he’s so smitten with.

“hard.” he tenses up a little at the possibility of you noticing the erection in his pants but thank god they’re baggy or else the tent would be obvious. “i missed you.”

aizawa’s heart is bursting in his chest but he places on his mask of unfazed expression perfectly. he still has a role to play after all.

he leans down to whisper in your ear yet his eyes bore intimidatingly into the man’s, “i’m sorry to hear that, sweetheart. but i promised to take good care of you tonight, remember?”

perhaps that was a bit of an overstate, but hey, it works. now that the man has caught on, he immediately walks off the train as soon as it stops– not even bothering whether it's where he’s supposed to go or not as he tries to run away from the possibility of getting into trouble with another guy.

“you okay?” he steps back and takes a good look at you only to realize how you’re avoiding his gaze to hide your evidently flushed face. how cute. “you don’t look so good.”

“i-i’m fine.” you mutter. “thank you for saving me.”

“no problem. it’s a part of my job. i just happened to be here.” he points out in a blatant lie.

you look at him in surprise as if finally connecting the dots, “wait, are you a hero?”

“uh, i guess– yes, i am.”

it’s the first time you’ve ever seen a hero being vague about his profession– or maybe you just made him feel uncomfortable to admit that he’s one when you, a quirkless citizen should be acknowledging the heroes that are risking their lives to protect the country so they should at least deserve some recognition, him included. 

“i’m sorry. i didn’t recognize you and i don’t really keep up with the heroes.” you laugh nervously, afraid of offending the male. though you can’t really tell what he thinks nor can you tell if he even cares from the look on his face but he only observes you silently before his lips turn to a lopsided smile. 

he doesn’t take it to heart, of course, but he finds it endearing that you’re trying to make him feel better. aizawa is not one that likes to be in the limelight anyway, so he doesn’t blame you. 

the number of people in the train gradually dissipates as the train stops station by station, leaving him and you together with some other few who have taken their seats to doze off. aizawa’s platform has long passed by but he decides to stay with you with intent to know where you actually live.  

aizawa doesn’t speak much the whole ride, only answering your questions and listening to you as you talk about your life. he learns that you’re a fresh graduate who just started working in an office and saving up to buy a car so you don’t have to trouble yourself with train rides anymore. he doesn’t know why you entrust him with the fact that you live alone in your apartment, but he’s relieved that you do. maybe it’s easy to trust a hero. man or not. 

but his filthy gaze lingers around your body once in a while– blood rushes to his cock when he sees the plush thighs that are exposed from your short skirt as you sit, the two buttons on your blouse that looks like they’re about to pop off from your breasts and the way your puffy lips jut out slightly when you stare out the window to watch the sun slowly disappears below the horizon to make way for the dark sky. the ride would’ve been peaceful if not for the uncomfortable throb inside his pants right now.

and soon enough, you stand up from your seat and grab your bag in preparation to step off from the agonizing ride. 

“this is my stop. thank you again, eraser head. it’s nice meeting you!” you beam sweetly before you walk off the train and wave him goodbye as the doors slowly closes between the two of you. 

aizawa can’t wait to see you again tomorrow– but now he needs a change of pace. since he doesn’t want to take risk of you finding out that he intentionally missed his platform, he chooses to only ride the train in the evening now.

with his height, aizawa is able to see you looking around as soon as you step into the train with exhaustion written all over your face. however, it’s instantly washed away with an exuberant look when you notice him staring at you from the other side. his heart swells with joy as he watches you push yourself through the crowd with your bag covering your chest protectively.

“found you, eraser!” you chirp as you stand in front of the male.

“oh? so you were looking for me?” he replies coyly, sinking lower into his scarf to keep his burning cheeks out of sight.

you nod eagerly and sigh, “i looked for you this morning too, but i guess you were on a different coach or something.”

“why? you wanted to use me so i’d protect you from perverts?” 

“oops. busted.” you laugh. 

if that’s the one thing that binds you and him, he doesn’t really mind. aizawa is pleased to know that you’re willing to be around him as much as he does. it then comes to a point where you both promise to be in the same coach in the evening.

it has been over a week since aizawa restrained his lecherous intentions. all of those days he has seen you don that short skirt that seems to hug your ass so well. every weekday evening he gets to glance down over your cleavage when you press yourself closely against him and when you’re not facing him? he can feel that ass just lightly brushing, teasing him when the train shakes and he knows he won’t be able to take it any longer. 

what is he waiting for anyway? when this is all what he coveted in the first place? fuck playing the reliable hero. 

aizawa doesn’t want to regard himself and the creeps inside the train as equals. he’s different. he’s a hero and because of that, he got you always wanting to stay close to him without him compelling. you’re so sweet to him, so trusting and you never give him the dirty look whenever he places his hand too low on your back. 

more people are joining in from different stations so as usual, aizawa quickly pulls you into a corner nearby one of the doors which he knows won’t be opening for people to get in and get out. he only keeps guard by standing behind you as you take in the view of the same buildings and skyline.

“you have no idea how much i’m dying to own a car.” you sigh as you stare outside the glass window unheedingly and completely oblivious to your surroundings. 

“yes. you’ve said that a million times.” he carefully inches closer (as much as he can anyway) and bravely takes a whiff of your shampoo that never fails to fill and rouse his senses.

“i’m sorry,” you titter. “you must’ve gotten bored of hearing it.” 

“no, i like it.” he whispers audibly in your ear, just enough for both of you to hear. 

“i’m gla–” you’re suddenly startled when you feel something hard prodding against your ass. you start to feel uneasy and try to shift away but a pair of hands brazenly grab your breasts, almost making you yelp in surprise. 

“shh,” his hot breath fans over the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “don’t wanna make a scene.”

your heart instantly drops once you realize the person you trust most, a hero at that, is doing the very same thing he protected you from. you can see the vague reflection ahead– the way his hands are massaging your tits as he litters chaste kisses on the crook of your neck.

you attempt to pry his hands off of you, but he only grabs harder and pushes you closer to the front until your forehead presses against the cold glass.

“aizawa– stop.”

aizawa can hear panic lacing in your voice as you whimper but he simply brushes off your plea, too busy soothing his carnal needs by grinding his hard cock against your ass.

“no. you feel so good.” he nibbles your neck, sucking and biting the supple flesh to leave a bruising mark. 

“p-people are gonna see.” 

“that’d be really hot.” he hoists up your short skirt to prop his knees between your thighs before one of his hands guides your hip and compels you to grind your pussy against his own thigh. 

your eyes lingers around the crowd in the train, in between looking for help and hoping that no one sees what he’s doing to you but everyone’s either immersed in their phones or napping and even when someone does notice you, they just turn away uncomfortably. 

“looks like i’m the only hero in this train, kitten.” he says ironically as the hand from your hips snakes in front to rub circles on your clit. “feels good, does it?” he coos as you try to muffle your whines from escaping. 

you’re clawing on his wrist in an attempt to make him stop, but the harder you try to, the harder he presses your mound and clit.

aizawa slips two fingers inside your panties, barely biting back a groan once he uncovers you wet beneath his fingers. 

“what a surprise.” he chuckles, smearing his fingers with your slick before bringing it up to your mouth. “open up, kitten.” 

you purse your lips in retaliation but he easily rubs his thumb on your hardened nipple, causing you to gasp and he quickly shoves his fingers inside your mouth. your tongue wraps around his fingers, sucking and tasting your own flavor as he observes you through the reflection.

“you like how it tastes?” he pulls out his fingers from your mouth with a lewd pop sound before tugging your panties to the side and sliding a digit swiftly inside your cunt. a surprised yelp manages to roll off your tongue from the intrusion but you quickly look down to hide your humiliation and away from the peculiar gazes of others inside the coach.

aizawa hushes you as he thrusts his fingers slowly, savoring the tightness of your walls while also attempting to keep down the squelching noises from your dripping cunt. 

“it’s okay. most of them are going to step off soon, then you can be as loud as you want.” he murmurs, holding you close to his body while his other hand continuously rubs your nipple with his thumb to stimulate you even further until your world is reduced to his satisfying ministrations. 

as time passes by, more and more people have left the train while a few sleepers still remain. aizawa already has two fingers pumping inside your sopping cunt and your slick is already trickling down your thighs as you try hard to hold in your whines. 

“please– i can’t–” your legs have grown weaker and you can only find support by leaning back against his broad chest. your toes are curling inside your heels and your breath has come out shorter and deeper as he keeps on edging you until he thinks it’s safe to fuck you without the presence of other people seeing his unheroic actions.

“you wanna cum, pretty girl?” he finally picks up the pace, causing your body to squirm as you moan breathlessly. 

“y-yes– please–”

“you’re really sucking me in.” he groans, dragging and curling his fingers against the spongy walls that makes your thighs tremble as you edge closer to an orgasm. “cum for me.”

your hands are clenching hard on his forearm and you feel the muscles in your stomach tightening with so much intensity. with his finger pressing down on your throbbing bud, you eventually come undone and you bite on his arm to stifle your screams. 

“that’s it, princess. just what you need after a long day at work, huh?” he kisses your temple soothingly as you regain composure and struggle to fix your skirt, but he stops you from doing so. 

“aizawa..?” 

“i had a hard day at work too, you know.” he tugs your panties down to your ankles and picks it up. “i deserve something from you too, right? and i’m not talking about this.” you see him showing your panties through the glass before he shoves it inside his pocket.

aizawa wraps his scarf around your body and drags you to the middle of the coach. the fabric works as a bind around your wrists and ties onto the bar handle on top of your head to keep you restrained and exposed in front of a man that is sleeping in his seat. 

“let’s hope he doesn’t wake up soon, hm?” he chuckles and takes his place behind you. 

“you’re out of your–!” 

you can barely contain your shriek when aizawa suddenly rips off the middle of your blouse that sends the buttons flying across from you and he quickly slips his hands underneath your bra to fondle your breasts.

“careful not to wake him up, princess.” he tweaks your pebbled nipples between his fingers to provoke the slightest sound from you but you press your lips firmly to conceal your mewls. “or else he’s gonna see me fucking your tight cunt.”

aizawa spits on his hand and smears his saliva with your slick, making you shudder from sensitivity before his fingers prod into your hole to give you a few pumps in preparation for his cock. 

“i’ve been waiting for this for far too long.” he unzips his pants hastily to free his cock from its confinements and you gulp nervously when you see it in the reflection ahead– already throbbing and fully erected. aizawa lifts one of your legs up and rubs his shaft against your wet, puffy folds before lining his cock with your entrance. 

you look down at the man anxiously, praying silently for him to not wake up (or maybe just never at all) to see you with your legs spread in front of his face for god knows how long it’ll be. you bite your lower lip hard when you feel aizawa’s cock sinking inside your cunt, stretching it as he pushes through your walls. 

“shit. so fucking tight.” he growls in your ear as he sheathes his cock into you, pushing through your convulsing walls and until he has filled you to the brim. he starts to pound into you slowly and you bite back a moan when you feel the delicious drags of his veiny cock inside you.

his tongue traces the shell of your ear, licking all around the erogenous zone that has you shuddering and clenching down on him even more. 

“mmph– you’re milking my cock so well, kitten.” he grunts, flicking your nipple with his free hand before toying with your clit. 

“ah– he-he’s gonna wake up.” you pant, tugging your wrists for release as if the way it binds so securely doesn’t tell you enough that it would be impossible.

“then he’s gonna get one hell of a show.” he says nonchalantly before picking up his pace. 

the squelching noises begin to fill the quiet air as aizawa continues to fuck you relentlessly. your slick is dripping down to his balls and your thighs, pooling underneath you and you can feel that you’re close to reaching another orgasm.

as your state has become more delirious, the man in front of you suddenly grunts in his sleep and a cold rush of fear instantly creeps down your spine. yet, aizawa doesn’t seem bothered when he remains to be balls deep inside you.

“i think you’re getting off on this, princess.” he says between breaths, rutting into you harder when he feels how hard you’re clamping around his cock. 

“b-but– i’m gonna cum–” you whine, body squirming as you ground yourself to not cum.

your pussy is spread wide open in front of the man when aizawa easily lifts up your other leg. your heels have fallen under you and now you’re just practically hanging in mid air with his scarf and hands supporting your body. he angles deeper inside your cunny and your head throws back onto his shoulder when you feel the tip brushing against your cervix. 

“then, cum.” it’s baffling how he manages to make it sound simple, not having a care in the world as if his reputation isn’t in the line right now. “look at me.”

you shyly turn your head to meet his heavy lidded eyes before he crashes his lips onto yours. you drown into his fervor kiss while the pressure continues to build in your lower stomach turns more intense and unbearable. at this point, you think it’s best to just swallow your humiliation.

“let it go.” he whispers against your lips and locks his gaze with your wavering eyes. 

“f-fuck– cumming–!” you instantly draw in for a deep kiss to make him swallow your moans as you finally let yourself come undone. it feels oddly relieving in a sense that has your mind turned to mush, together with the feeling of an insurmountable high. the moment your eyes flutter open again, you realize that there are questionable droplets of water staining the glass window in front of you. 

“you’re a little exhibitionist, aren’t you?” he mocks, yet proud and even more aroused that he managed to make you squirt in a public transport. “he might need to clean up.” 

your eyes trail down to the man in front of you to see some amount of your own arousal trickling down on his poor face. you're so dazed with pleasure that you don’t even bother to care anymore and you just let aizawa fucks you through your high before his cock begins to twitch inside your pussy.

“be a good girl and take all my cum.” his pace soon falters and he holds you still before releasing a thick load inside your cunt. after he has emptied out, aizawa leans in the crook of your neck to catch his breath before removing his cock and putting you down gently. 

“that was fucking good.” he sighs gratifyingly as he pulls his pants back up. aizawa unties your restraints and your legs wobble once they touch the ground, but he quickly catches you in his arms to keep you from falling to the floor. as if on cue, the train finally comes to a halt.

“oh, we’re here.” he picks up your shoes and bag before pulling you closer to him to stand in front of the automatic door. “do you need me to carry you or something?”

you look at him confusingly, then to the small map above your head; you’re at least two stops away from your station and three from his. “but this isn’t our stop.”

“well, this one has always been mine.”

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

[likeastarstar]

Invisible String Pt.2

Part One

(A/N: read part one before this part if you haven't already so it'll make sense!)

masterlist.

Jungkook interested you, so you kissed him.

"I don't normally do this," You promised, feeling breathless as Jungkook kissed his way down your jaw to your neck.

"Same," Jungkook nodded urgently, barely processing what you said in favor for tugging you by the waist so that you were straddling him in the back of the cab he had called for the two of you. He said he just didn't want to leave you stranded at the club, that he'd see you home. But one thing led to another and you were currently praying the cab driver didn't yell at you.

Jungkook's hands were everywhere, rubbing at exposed skin, grazing through your hair, flattening against the small of your back. He rocked your hips back and forth against his lap, frowning again in concentration. Shit- he was really hot.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed, wondering what he looked like under his leather jacket. He felt so solid under your touch, like he belongs there. You dragged your other hand through his hair, pushing it back and off his forehead. He keened under your touch, smiling slightly while his eyes fluttered closed as your nails dug into his scalp lightly. You reached the nape of his neck and tugged on Jungkook's hair so that he was looking up at you in his lap, eyes snapping open in sharp attention.

Jungkook's lips parted slightly, as if he was about to say something before-

"First stop." The cab driver interrupted, making you jump slightly as the car came to a screeching halt in front of your apartment complex.

You would've asked him to come inside- except that Jungkook practically pushed you out of the car with a fleeting reminder about the money you still owed him. Ouch. You had clearly completely misread the situation, but that didn't stop you from thinking about Jungkook from that moment on.

You looked for him everywhere, scanning crowds on your daily commute, lingering at the same crosswalk you had met him at. Your eyes stayed glued to the floor when you boarded the bus on your way home most days, trying to catch a glimpse of those black boots.

The next time you did see him was three weeks later, at a gaming cafe, of all places.

"No, no, no- NO!" You whispered, scoffing in disbelief as you lost for the third time that night.

This was not normal for you- loosing, that is. You blamed it on the other abnormality of your current situation: being in a gaming cafe. Normally, you'd be playing LoL in the comfort of your own home sans-pants. But one overly excited moment and a mug of tea placed too closely to your set up and boom- no computer for you. At least while it's in repair.

"You're very dramatic," A voice said next to you, snapping you out of your spiral.

You frowned and looked over to whoever was next to you, locking eyes on Jungkook, who was currently slurping down noodles like someone was going to take them from him. You shrieked in surprise, the two of you jumping in your chairs at the same moment. "Are you stalking me?" You whisper-yelled, leaning away from him.

"No," He snapped, talking with his mouth full. "I got here two hours before you, I just didn't feel like saying hi until now. I could ask you the same question."

You watched him eat in awe, trying not to fixate on the way his tongue looked snaking out to lick his lips every now and then. There had been too many coincidental run-ins between the two of you for this not to be fate. You shook your head, throwing the incredibly stupid thought out of your head.

"Anyway, good thing I ran into you," You shrugged, choosing to ignore the fact that the last time you had seen him, you were rubbing your pussy all over his lap. "I have something for you."

He looked at you with his eyebrows raised, waiting expectantly as you dug around in your bag for a moment. You found what you were looking for, a small keychain of a skeletal hand in the same positioning as the tattoo on his forearm. "I saw it and thought of you, so I got it for you. Here, rock on." You explained, handing it to him.

He laughed slightly, taking it from you gingerly and inspecting it closely. "My tattoo means I love you, not rock on." He pointed out, pulling out his keys and putting the token on the loop.

There was a warm feeling in your chest knowing he was actually going to use it, one that only grew when you noticed the slight blush on his cheeks, "Yeah, well, the keychain means rock on." You quipped, "Do you like it or not?"

"I do," He said quickly, holding up his keys with a bright smile. You sent one back to him, beaming so hard your cheeks hurt. "Thank you."

At this point, neither Jungkook or you ever made plans to see each other. You knew it would just happen on its own. Which is exactly what happened a month later, on what could only be called the worst day of your life.

Things hadn't been going your way for a very, very long time. You usually had pretty good luck, but suddenly it was like the universe had forsaken you altogether. After a particularly terrible blind date, you had had enough- no more dating. This guy was all kinds of awful, he didn't laugh at any of your jokes, he had a terrible taste in music- he even wore the wrong clothes. He had loafers on- loafers. God, Jungkook would never wear those.

Instead of wallowing in a ruined night, you did what any struggling girl boss would do- you got yourself dessert.

You walked to the nearest 24 hour diner, pushing the doors open quickly. There was barely anyone here, thankfully. It was the perfect place to be alone.

Except that two seconds after you sat down in a quiet booth next to a window, Jungkook came marching up to your table. He was wearing a color other than black- this time it was a patterned buttoned down shirt and loose fitting trousers. You couldn't see his shoes, but that wasn't really what you were focused on at the moment. No, instead you could only stare at his latest haircut, cropped short on the sides and parted neatly. Who was this guy and what did he do to your fluffy headed soulmate?

"Are you sure you're not stalking me?" You asked calmly, at this point you were completely unsurprised to see him popping up at the most random times.

"I saw you from the window on my way home and figured I'd say hi," He shrugged, sliding into the booth beside you, immediately tossing his phone haphazardly onto the table. "Although I'm beginning to think you're a figment of my imagination. It's bizarre how you just keep...appearing."

"You're telling me," You snorted, resting your chin on your hand propped up on the table. "But I'm not sure if you'd be able to kiss a figment of your imagination."

Jungkook blushed deeply and you laughed for the first time that day. He was just so easy to mess with. Jungkook pouted childishly and stole your menu, burying his face in it.

"We did a little more than a kiss in that cab," He said in a whiny voice, "It's pretty late, why are you at a diner at one in the morning?"

"Nothing, bad day." You mumbled, "I needed pie."

"Valid reasoning," He said pensively, "You look nice, by the way. I like your earrings, they match mine."

You looked at the chain looping through his double piercings, realizing he was right- you had a similar version in your own ears. Weird. You didn't get a chance to return the compliment before the waitress came over and Jungkook ordered literally every kind of pie on their very extensive menu and two coffees.

"If pie will make you happy we might as well go all out." He reasoned, only noticing your outraged face when the waitress left. "Anyway, I got you something."

He dug around the backpack he has dumped in the booth beside him when he got here, pulling out a flash drive with a a tiny keychain of a butterfly connected to it.

"I don't know if I've never mentioned this before, but I'm a musician." He explained, holding it out to you. "This has my latest stuff on it. Nothing fancy, just wanted you to listen before I send it off to my label. Plus, the keychain reminded me of you."

You took it from him slowly, holding it as if it were worth a million dollars- which to you, it was.

"Sometimes I think I dreamt you up," You mumbled, still staring at the flash drive. You couldn't wait to listen to it, to hear his velvet tone and silvery vocals whenever you wanted. This was the first, tangible thing that connected him to you, a reminder that even if the universe hated you right now- at least Jungkook was in it.

"Touch me and see," He offered, leaning back in his seat with a small smirk on his face.

Your eyes flicked back to him, a dare written across his features and a thread pulling at your heart. You leaned forward, a smirk of your own on your face until his phone buzzed, interrupting the heated moment.

You weren't trying to be nosey, but the bright light of the screen caught your eye and you glanced at it quickly. It was a text from someone, their contact saved under a series of hearts and one word: wifey.

Wait- his what?

TO BE CONTINUED...PART THREE

(A/N: MUAHAHAA! If you've made it to the end, thank you, I love you, I'm sorry. Next part is the last part, as always feedback is so so appreciated! Send me an ask goddamnit!)

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - 11

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 6,696

Warnings: Unprotected Sex (non explicit) 

A/N: And finally... Just a word before, and it’s important, I wanted to put the explicit between two��‘*’ but I settled for one at the end because explicit means different things to different people. So whenever it starts to get too steamy for you, skip to the *. Thank you for reading, I appreciate your support!

Wannabe sugar daddies, don’t interact with this post. 

Bucky moved behind the kitchen counter when he heard the door close. You and your guests were in the hallway where you took their coats and asked them to remove their shoes. He took a deep breath to calm himself. He had to stay calm, you depended on him tonight.

“It smells nice in here. What did y-”

Bucky straightened himself up and tried to keep a casual, friendly smile on his face as he came face-to-face with Okoye. He had seen enough pictures of your siblings to recognize them.

She looked surprised to find someone else there. He raised his hand and waved, and she frowned at him in confusion. The rest of the guests stopped short when they saw him waving like a dork. You pushed through them and came to his side.

“Guys, this is my friend, Bucky,” you said. “He’s the one who invited you.”

“Thanks for the invite. I hope you like wine,” Scott said, extending his hand as he walked over to Bucky.

“I sure do.”

Then he shook Wanda and Okoye’s hands, telling them how good it was to finally meet them. Your sisters introduced him to their partners, W’Kabi and Edwin who preferred to be called ‘Viz’.

You led them to the living room while Bucky prepared the drinks. W’Kabi decided to stay behind and help Bucky carry the drinks to the living room. He praised Bucky for having such a nice home.

The conversation seemed to flow easily between your siblings, though as Bucky arrived with your drink, he couldn’t help but notice that you were not participating. You took the glass from his hand, smiled then went back to staring at the coffee table. He sat next to you and rubbed soothing strokes on your arm before he reached for his drink.

Okoye was telling everyone that she had decided to return to New York after King T’Chaka’s passing. His son carried the mantle of the Black Panther, surrounding himself with his father’s Dora Milaje, but Okoye wanted to live closer to her own family.

She was a Dora Milaje, loyal to her king, but she was also a sister, loyal to her family. She felt like there were no good choices, and it ate away at her until her king found a solution to her problem. His little sister, Shuri, was starting her own business in the United States and needed her own bodyguards. Okoye accepted and W’Kabi followed her.

Scott didn’t share much. He showed everyone pictures of his little girl, Cassie, and said he was now working at Baskin-Robbins.

Wanda was evasive about her life and whereabouts. She told everyone that she’d been backpacking across Europe and met Viz, a wealthy businessman, on a beautiful sunny day in Berlin. They’d been attached at the hip ever since.

“And of course, you’re all invited to the wedding,” Wanda said while Okoye admired the ring. “It’s going to be a small wedding. I just need my family.”

“Excuse-me,” you said, standing up abruptly. “I think something’s burning.”

Bucky watched you disappear into the kitchen. He glanced at the group again, no one was paying attention so he followed you into the kitchen.

He found you leaning back against the counter, your arms crossed over your chest, staring into nothing. He walked over to you and pulled you into a one-armed hug that you accepted with a pleased sigh.

“I don’t think I can do this,” you said, your voice muffled against his shirt.

“Is it a code ‘flamingo’?”

“No,” you chuckled, pulling away. You took a deep breath and leaned back against the counter again. “It’s just...”

You huffed, unable to find the words and grabbed him by the waist, seeking his warmth again. Bucky let out a surprised laugh as you squeezed him tightly. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pressed you against his chest.

“I know it’s hard,” he said, kissing the crown of your head. “It’ll be over soon, angel.”

Bucky rocked you side to side in a slow, soothing rhythm until you were practically melting against him. He felt you take a deep breath, your nose buried in his chest. He didn’t want the moment to end, but you’d been gone for several minutes now, and the others would barge in the kitchen soon.

He pressed a long kiss to your forehead and gently pushed you away, his arm falling to your waist. You smoothed out the wrinkles you had made in his shirt without looking him in the eye.

He could tell you were thinking about something but before he could ask what was on your mind, you kissed the slight cleft in his chin and quickly moved away from him.

He smiled to himself, his heart beating a little faster.

You were transferring the dinner rolls from the pan to the basket when Scott poked his head into the kitchen. Bucky was still smiling to himself like a lovesick idiot.

“Everything okay?” Scott asked, taking a step closer to you. You turned to him and nodded. “It’s kinda weird, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“Seeing each other again after all this time.” He leaned his forearm on the counter next to you and smelled the bread. “Baby Wanda’s getting married. Did you know they flew me first class? And the hotel is incredible. I feel like a prince.”

“Viz seems very nice.”

“I can’t believe Wanda backpacked through Europe,” Scott scoffed. “She hates camping.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Bucky watched as Scott leaned closer and whispered in your ear. “Listen, I wanted to thank you for everything you did for me and for Cassie-” Bucky quietly left the two of you alone. It was a private conversation and he didn’t want to impose himself.

He finished setting the table, and soon everyone joined in. Bucky was sitting with his back to the kitchen, W’Kabi sitting next to him. You took a seat across from him, Wanda sitting next to you. Okoye sat next to Wanda, facing Scott, and Viz took a seat at the end of the table.

The food was good, and everyone complimented Bucky on his cooking skills. He said that you had helped him a lot, but you refused to take credit for chopping up a bunch of vegetables. You gushed about his cooking skills and his delicious recipes. It made them salivate just thinking about it.

“And your house is amazing,” Scott said with a dreamy look on his face. “A place like that...” he sighed, “that must have cost you an arm and a leg.” The whole room fell silent, and something that sounded like a foot hitting a shin made the table jump. “Ouch, why did yo- oh.”

Okoye was looking at him with the widest pair of eyes Bucky had ever seen. She looked furious and exasperated at the same time. The others stared at their plates as the uncomfortable silence grew.

Bucky glanced at you, not surprised to find you smirking. You knew he lived for moments like these, and you knew he already had the perfect comeback. As he watched you bit your lip, trying to contain a little giggle, he couldn’t help but love you even more.

“It was the original price but I’m a good negotiator,” Bucky said. “Only cost me an arm.”

W’Kabi was the first to laugh at his joke, then the whole table broke into fits of laughter. Scott looked equally amused and relieved.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”

“No problem,” Bucky cut him off.

“Can’t take you anywhere,” Okoye said with a smile and a shake of her head. She turned to Bucky as everyone calmed down. “So, Bucky, strange name, uh? What do you do for a living?”

“My name is James, Bucky’s just a nickname.” He wiped his mouth and set the napkin down. “I’m a writer.”

“A pretty good one, judging by your apartment.”

“I’m all right.” He shrugged. “Literally.” Scott snickered at the joke.

“He’s too modest,” you said. “His books are best sellers. They’re autobiographical, he’s very sincere and honest and funny. He has a way of making you laugh about things that are pretty awful.”

“Yeah, we saw that,” Wanda said with a grin. “Are you working on anything at the moment?”

Bucky shifted a little in his seat. “Yeah, it’s uh,” he cleared his throat. “It’s a very important one. I don’t really want to talk about it. Don’t wanna jinx it.”

He wasn’t going to tell your family that he was writing a book about how he fell in love with you. That’d be pretty awkward.

“I understand,” Okoye nodded, then looked at you. “You’ve been really quiet tonight.” You shrugged. “I thought you were still living with Natasha. Do you still work at the hotel? Where is it again? Chelsea? That’s one hell of a commute from Brooklyn.”

“I wasn’t exactly living with Natasha,” you said. “I was crashing on her sofa. And no, I quit six months ago. I’m a full time artist now.”

“That’s great,” Scott said, raising his glass toward you in a silent toast. “How’s that working out for you?”

“Not too bad. Bucky’s friend is a professional photographer. He helped me set up my website. The pictures he took are amazing. I sold a few pieces online but I’m struggling to find gallery representation.”

“Hey, as long as it pays the bills.”

“I don’t really have to worry about bills these days.”

“What do you mean?”

The room got quiet again, and Bucky could feel the tension in the air, buzzing like static electricity. All eyes were suddenly on you, waiting for an explanation. Bucky knew you were not going to lie to them. He locked eyes with you, and braced himself for impact.

You set your fork down and folded your hands in your lap.

“Well, Bucky and I have an arrangement.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” Scott cut you off.

“I’m not going to beat around the bush and I’m not going to use pretty words to make it sounds more appealing,” you continued as if you hadn’t heard him. “He’s my sugar daddy.”

“You’re joking. Please, tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope,” you replied smugly, popping the ‘p’.

A chorus of voices rose in protest. Okoye and Scott were shouting while the others kept glancing around wondering what had just happened. Wanda was strangely quiet next to you.

“Oh, shut up!” you shouted. “You left me alone. All of you. We were all grieving our brother but it doesn’t give you the right to fuck off when things get tough. Do you know how fucking terrifying it was when mom started to lose her memories? Or when the police drove her home at three in the morning after one of her spells? No, you don’t know because you weren’t there.”

Bucky had never seen you so upset before, and he didn’t quite know what to do but he felt like you needed to get it off your chest.

“I didn’t have friends or boyfriends. I went to class, then got home, hoping mom hadn’t set the house on fire. I took the first decent job I could find because she needed a new home and professional help. Without Natasha I would have been homeless.” You turned to Bucky. “I’m so sorry, I’ve ruined dinner. You’ve worked so hard.”

“It’s okay,” he replied immediately. “I’m with you.”

“God, you’re so nice,” you sighed, then turned to your siblings. “See? That’s the kind of person he is. I was lonely and lost, and I found him and he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He’s kind and sweet, he’s selfless and generous, and you have no right to criticize our relationship.”

Bucky stared at you, his mouth hanging open a little. Slowly he shook himself out of his trance and reached for your hand on the table. He had no idea you thought so highly of him.

“We needed each other,” you continued. “And I don’t care what you think.”

Dinner was officially ruined but Bucky didn’t care. He smiled at you, soft and reassuring, and let go of your hand when you smiled back. He was proud of you for speaking up, for standing up for yourself.

Bucky noticed Wanda and Viz exchanging looks.

“Okay so, since we’re sharing truth bombs,” Wanda said, shifting a bit in her seat. “I wasn’t really traveling through Europe. I went to Sokovia and after that, everything’s kind of a blur. I did things I’m not proud of. I wanted to forget,” she paused and sighed, “everything. I hit rock bottom, pretty hard, and checked myself into a psychiatric hospital. That’s where I met Viz. He helped me send you those postcards. I screwed up, real bad, but I couldn’t tell you guys the truth. I’m not really proud of myself.”

“I got fired from Baskin-Robbins for yelling at a costumer.”

“Okay!” Okoye exclaimed in her big sister voice. “Enough truth bombs.” She pointed at you. “I’m sorry you had to do this alone, it wasn’t right but we’re here now and we won’t let you down. As for the sugar daddy thing... well you’re a grown woman, you can do whatever you want. Bucky seems like a nice guy.” She turned to Wanda. “We are all dealing with our pain in our own way. I’m not judging you. We’re here for you, Wanda.”

“I know,” Wanda said, sniffing.

“And Scott, stop yelling at people.”

“Yeah, good idea.”

Bucky turned to W’Kabi and Viz who looked proud of their girls, albeit a little uncomfortable with the whole situation. Someone started chuckling, he couldn’t tell who it was, but suddenly the whole table broke into a fit of laughter.

“How about some dessert,” he said. “Then you guys can fill me in on some childhood secrets.”

As he walked away from the table, he heard you warn your siblings to keep their mouths shut. They laughed in response, which made Bucky smile. Surely it’d take more than one outburst at a family dinner to fix your broken bond but it was a good start.

During dessert, he learned that everyone called you ‘Splotchy’ because you painted on the living room walls as a child. He learned that you always wanted to play board games with Okoye. Your favourite one was Mystery Date.

“She had a crush on Tyler, the beach date.”

“No, that’s not true, don’t listen to them.”

When they finally left, you spent a few extra moments hugging everyone. Promises were made, and Bucky couldn’t help but smile as he watched you wave goodbye to your siblings.

It was just the two of you again, and the mountain of dirty dishes and silverware. He told you not to worry about the dishes, but you knew if he went to bed he wouldn't be able to sleep, not when the kitchen was such a mess so you cleaned together.

He loved these moments with you. There was something very peaceful about the night; the dark skies, the soft lights, the quiet apartment, knowing people all around town where getting ready for bed. It used to make him feel tiny and isolated but now, with you, the night didn’t seem so frightening anymore.

A few weeks went by, and things were changing a bit. You spent your Saturday mornings with your sisters, bonding, and facetimed with Scott at least once a week.

Bucky also noticed a subtle change in Sam’s behaviour. He seemed happier and he wondered if his friend had already forgotten Natasha.

It was almost June, and the building’s swimming pool reopened as the weather got warmer. Despite living there for several years, he had never gone near that swimming pool until you dragged him out one scorching afternoon.

The rooftop was surprisingly calm, apart for the group of children playing in the pool. There were people sunbathing around the pool, enjoying a good book, socializing. You dropped your bag on the floor and laid out your towel on the reclining chair.

Bucky had never seen you in a bathing suit before and it caught him completely off guard, but what made him literally growl was seeing the little pendant of your necklace rest against your skin. He didn’t know why but it awoke something in him.

You both slathered on sunscreen before you went for a swim. Bucky recognized a few neighbours, and while they all knew he only had one arm, they had never seen him shirtless before. Bucky didn’t mind their inquisitiveness, as long as you were beside him.

“Do you think the kids peed in the water?” you asked as you rested against the edge of the pool.

“Probably,” Bucky cringed. “When I was a kid, my mom told me that there were chemicals that turned the water a different color when someone pees.”

“Ew,” you laughed.

After a while, he lay out in the sun, enjoying the feel of the sun on his skin. He could still hear you playing water polo with the kids when a shadow passed over him. With a frown, he pushed his sunglasses up onto his forehead.

“It’s nice to see you, James,” his neighbour beamed, taking a seat on your unoccupied chair. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out here.”

“Hi.” He wasn’t surprised when his voice came out hoarse since he had been on the verge of falling asleep. With the grace of a walrus, he propped himself into a sitting position. “Yes, well, swimming pools are more fun when you’re not alone.”

His neighbour turned to look at you. “Congratulations, by the way. I didn’t know you were seeing someone. Must have been serious if you two moved in together. How long has it been since she moved in? Six months?”

“Seven.”

He knew he should have corrected her, you weren’t his girlfriend, but it felt good. It was just a harmless little lie.

“Does she make you happy?”

“I’m the happiest man on earth,” he replied with a bright smile, then slid his sunglasses back on his face.

His neighbour chuckled quietly. “I can see that!”

When you returned to your seat, his neighbour was gone. You hummed to yourself as you settled into your seat, big droplets of water running down your body. Bucky tilted his head down and peered at you over the top of his sunglasses.

“Where did you get that popsicle?”

“Jealous?” You licked your treat without looking at him. “The kids’ mom gave me one as a thank you for looking after her kids.”

“That looks good.”

“So good.”

“Mind sharing it with me?”

You pursed your lips thoughtfully, then held out your popsicle. As Bucky leaned closer, you pulled it away and jumped to your feet. The look he gave you was one of pure betrayal.

“Oh, angel, you should have never done that.”

He grinned to himself when he saw a shiver run through you. When he stood up, you took a step back. He strutted toward you, his grin predatory. The floor was slippery so you couldn’t go very far.

“Are you ready to share now?”

“No!”  

The popsicle melted down your hand, creating a mess. You turned your arm and licked the drops of popsicle juice from the inside of your wrist. It distracted you long enough for Bucky to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you against him. You squealed and grabbed him around the neck to keep from falling while also trying not to smush the popsicle against his chest.

You waved the treat in front of his face and he tried to bite off the tip of your popsicle. It made you laugh, your body sagging against him. His face was close to yours. He was so close he could smell the artificial orange scent of your popsicle.

Your laughter died down and your breath caught in your throat when you saw the way he was looking at you. Without thinking, he went for it. He felt your fingers flex against his skin, urging him closer.

His lips were barely a breath away from yours when one of the kids repeatedly slapped your thigh, obviously oblivious to what the two grownups were about to do.

“Come back! We haven’t finished the game,” the kid whined. “Come on!”

Reluctantly, you let go of Bucky and took a step back. Your exhale came out shaky, and in your almost-kiss-induced trance you handed him the popsicle without saying anything before you followed the kid.

You turned back to look at him, one hand sprawled across your stomach, the other across your chest. He knew you were feeling it too: the butterflies, the racing heartbeat, that pleasant heat going through your body.

The difference between like and love.

A week later, he came home to an empty apartment. He climbed the stairs to your studio but you weren’t there. Instead, he found a canvas stretched out smooth and tight on the floor, and several bowls of paint arranged in a semi-circle around it.

He knew you were home, you wouldn’t leave without your phone or bag. Out of curiosity, he went up on the roof and let out a relieved breath when he found you.

You were sitting on the edge of the rooftop with your knees up to your chin and your arms wrapped loosely around your shins. You looked so beautiful in the golden hue of the setting sun.

He stood there, watching you as if he was looking at a painting in a museum. Entranced. You hadn’t noticed him yet, and a quick glance around the roof told him you were alone.  

Slowly, he made his way to you and took in your appearance: a short sleeve white shirt and a pair of denim overalls. The shirt was surprisingly spotless but the overalls were covered in dried paint splatters of different colours.

“I looked everywhere for you,” he spoke softly, trying not to disturb you.

“Did you?”

You straightened up a little but kept your eyes trained on the horizon. Bucky sat close to your feet and let his hand slip under the hem of your jeans to close around your ankle. A sigh slipped past your lips, and he let his fingertips linger for a moment on your smooth skin.

He knew you had a meeting today, and judging by the resigned look on your face, it didn’t go well.

“What’s on your mind, angel?” he said, caressing the top of your foot.

“I was thinking about the night we met. God, I was so nervous,” you said, laughing softly. “I told you that agreeing to meet you was like choosing between a pack of wolves and jumping off a cliff.”

“I remember,” he chuckled.

“I never told you how glad I am that I jumped off that cliff,” you said. “I’d never jumped head first into something, not knowing what was going to happen. Now I think I’m addicted to it. Before I met you, I was living for others. Everything single decision was thoroughly analysed. There was no mystery, fun, or impulsiveness. I put my entire life on hold, and now I see that I can’t do that anymore.”

“What are you going to do?”

You paused, searching for the right words. “I don’t know if I want to turn my passion into a career. Painting is my safe-place, and right now it’s giving me so much anxiety. I haven’t had the inspiration to paint in weeks.” You looked at him and pressed your lips together tightly. “And, if I don’t want to become a full time artist, then I guess our deal is off.”

Bucky stared at you, mouth agape. He really hadn’t seen it coming.

“Please, don’t be angry,” you pleaded. “I don’t want to stop seeing you. When he didn’t answer, you leaned forward and touched his face.

“I could never be angry with you, angel,” he said, kissing the inside of your palm. “I understand, and I’ll help you however I can.”

“I’m not sure yet. I’m still thinking about it.” You looked away from him and stared at the sky. “Do you know that feeling when you stand in a high place and you think about jumping? You don’t want to jump and you don’t do it, but there’s that urge.”

“I think I do.”

“It’s called ‘call of the void’. People say that it’s an affirmation of our will to live. That knowing we’re going to die one day makes us appreciate life even more.” You looked at him. “I want to jump but I can’t. I’m scared.” You lowered your voice. “I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“You’re scaring me a little. You can’t talk about jumping when we’re sitting on the edge of the roof.”

You chuckled under your breath. “It’s a metaphor.”

“Let’s go home. We’ll make dinner together, put on some music and pretend we’re in a movie.” He got to his feet and held out his hand to you. “Please.”

You took his hand and let him lead you to the staircase.

Once you were inside the apartment, he removed his shoes and you removed yours. Silence settled between the two of you as you entered the kitchen. Bucky moved behind the counter while you stood close to the dining table.

When he chanced a glance at you, he saw you staring into nothing while you played with the charm on your necklace, rolling it back and forth on its chain. You often did that when you were daydreaming.

Bucky walked over to you and placed his hand on top of yours, halting your movements. You let go of the pendant and held his hand instead. He ran his thumb soothingly over your fingers.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he spoke softly.

“If I say it, it’s going to change everything.”

He pressed your joined hands against his chest, over his heart. “No, it’ll make it real.”

He let go of your hand and cupped the side of your face. You leaned closer until you were only inches apart. His thumb traced your cheekbone, then moved to trace the outline of your bottom lip.

He let you come to him, let you take that first step, and when your lips brushed against his, he closed his eyes and sighed. He kissed your parted lips; once, twice, three times, tiny little kisses against your trembling lips.

His kiss grew bolder, turning into something so intimate, so passionate and intense that tears gathered in his eyes. He pressed his mouth more firmly against yours, his large hand still cupping the side of your face. His bad shoulder jutted forward as if his missing arm wanted to touch you.

He let out a groan, frustrated that he only had one hand to finally explore your skin. Sensing his inner turmoil, you held onto his bad shoulder and pulled him against you.

His tongue swept into your mouth, moving in a slow and deliberate rhythm. A growl escaped him and he deepened the kiss, tasting, sliding, retreating and entering again. He poured everything he had into the kiss.

“Bucky,” you moaned after your broke the kiss, breathless.

Hearing his name fall from your lips, your voice hoarse with desire, sparked something inside him. He swiped his thumb over your bottom lip, feeling the softness and collecting the moisture that had gathered there.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, looking positively entranced. “My pretty angel.”

You pulled him in for another kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck, your slightly cold hands felt amazing against his heated skin. He pressed himself against you, letting you feel the rise and fall of his chest, the desperation in the jerky thrust of his hips.

He needed more but he wasn’t going to force you into anything. He was more than happy to stand here and kiss you for hours. He cupped the back of your neck and rubbed the sensitive skin behind your ear with his thumb.

“I’m yours,” he spoke against your lips, his eyes screwed shut.  

You pulled back to look him in the eye, searching his face. He opened his eyes and you saw nothing but honesty in the depth of his eyes.

You untangled yourself from him and took his hand. Slowly, you took a step back, then another, his hand still in yours. His eyebrows lifted slightly when you bit your bottom lip and gave him a coy look.

He nearly growled again, the wolf inside him eager to touch you, feel you, claim you. He stood taller, his chest puffed out and breathing fast.

You led him up the stairs to the second floor and turned on the light in the corridor. You slowly made your way down the corridor with him behind you.

But instead of turning left towards his bedroom, you turned right into your studio, and it changed everything. Your studio was your sanctuary, your safe place, and knowing that you were about to bare your soul and body to him tamed his inner wolf.

You hesitated at the threshold of the room and glanced over your shoulder to look at him. Bucky squeezed your hand to encourage you.

“I bought some body paint on my way home,” you said, letting go of his hand to step into the room. “I wanted to try something different, something more personal. I wanted to use my body to express my emotions, to create something raw and messy. My interpretation of somatic art therapy.”

You moved around the darkened room; bent down to adjust the canvas on the floor and made sure the bowls of paint were still full.

“I sat there and thought of my mom and Pietro,” you continued, barefoot on the canvas. “I only feel sadness and anger, and I don’t want to create something that makes me feel sad. And I realized the only thing that keeps me inspired is hope.”

Turning to face him, you held your hand out, palm up, and his eyes widened at your silent request. Without thinking twice, he joined you on the canvas. It was both soft and scratchy under his feet.

Bucky watched as you unbuckled the right strap of your overalls and slipped the second strap off your shoulder. You tugged your jeans down your legs and tossed them aside, leaving you in your underwear and white shirt.

Swallowing thickly, Bucky let his eyes travel up and down your body. He had seen you in your bathing suit before but this was different. Then he reached behind his neck and pulled his shirt over his head, baring his strong chest, hard abdomen and marred skin.

The room was dark; the pastel sky, visible from your studio thanks to the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room, didn’t provide much light. The light was still on in the corridor, casting a faint golden glow over the room.

You took a step forward to examine his scars more carefully and Bucky took that opportunity to kiss you again, slowly, intimately. He peppered kisses along your jaw and down your neck, then went down on his knees in front of you and continued his journey down your body, pressing soft kisses to your stomach.

He accidentally knocked over two bowls of paint; the dark colours spilled out onto the canvas, chasing each other. His kisses made you light up with desire, your moans music to his ears as your hands came down on the back of his head.

When it all became too much, you gently pushed him into a lying position and helped him out of his jeans. His belt buckle made a faint clink when you pulled it open, and Bucky swore out loud when you planted a wet open-mouthed kiss right below his navel.

In the back of his mind, he knew he wasn’t going to survive the night. He let his head fall back against the canvas and closed his eyes shut. Your talented mouth sent sharp jolts of pleasure through him, making it difficult to breathe.

He could feel the paint stick to his back, creating the shape of his upper body on the canvas. It was strangely exciting.

He moaned, arching his back, and slammed his fist down on the canvas. His fist landed in one of the bowls of paint. It splashed paint everywhere. He looked down at you and saw tiny flecks of paint splayed like freckles on one side of your face.

It made you both giggle. As he pushed himself up into a sitting position, Bucky left a print of his forearm on the canvas. You climbed into his lap, straddling him, then removed your shirt and bra. You wrapped your legs around him, one hand on his upper arm, the other hugging his neck.

Bucky was sitting on the canvas with his legs outstretched and slightly bent at the knees. He held you against his chest, rocking back and forth, his arm around the small of your back. You sighed together, sharing the same breath.

“You have the prettiest nose.” You let your index finger run down the length of his nose, your finger wet with paint. “So pretty.”

Laughing softly, he brushed his nose against yours and kissed you. He changed the angle of his thrusts, catching you by surprise.

“Does that feel good, angel?” he asked, lightly biting your jaw. You answered with a short cry. “Look at me.” You slowly opened your eyes, your movements faltered a little. “You’re so beautiful like this. You drive me crazy, y’know that?”

“Bucky,” you cried out.

He felt you shiver when he moved his hand from your back to your face. He cupped the side of your face and you immediately pressed yourself closer to him, craving the warmth of his touch.

He stopped your movements and looked you in the eye. “I’d do anything for you. Anything. You’re my one and only.”

He laid you down as gently and safely as he could, and once you were lying flat on your back, he sprawled between your thighs. He supported his weight on his forearm, careful not to crush you. Your hands slid up his sides, and as your thumb traced over his ribcage, a violent shiver went through his body.

He had never seen anything more beautiful than watching you come apart; your eyebrows furrowed, your lips parted in a silent ‘o’, the way your body shook in little spams. Absolutely stunning.

Exhausted, he collapsed on top of you and hid his face in the crook of your neck. You wrapped your arms around him and slowly caressed his back.

After he kissed his way down the side of your neck, he straightened himself up into a kneeling position and looked down at you. Your naked body was on display, covered in paint and glistening under the moonlight. He wished he could take a picture, immortalize this memory.

*

He helped you up, and after another passionate kiss he led you to his bathroom, the two of you leaving colourful footprints all over the clean floor.

The bathroom's bright fluorescent light was harsh and unforgiving as you looked at each other in the mirror. Yet you were both glowing, streaks and dots of paint covering your bodies. Bucky turned on the water and waited for it to get hot.

He wrapped his arm around you from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder. “We look like we blew up a rainbow,” he said, smiling wide when it made you chuckle.

In the shower, you took turns washing each other, laughing and kissing until the water turned cold. You pushed his hair out of his eyes and smiled sweetly at him.

“We’re going to catch a cold if we stay here.”

“Mhh,” he replied, kissing your temple. “You’re right. There are clean towels on the shelf. Go, I’ll be right behind you, I still need to take care of my scar.”

“Can I help you?”

Asking for help wasn’t something he was comfortable with, especially after years of being babied by his ex-girlfriend, friends and family. After his accident, he couldn’t do anything on his own. He had to rely on others and it made him feel like a burden, like he was incapable of taking care of himself.

He knew it was all in his head but he couldn’t help it.

“It’s not exactly sexy,” he said.

“I don’t care. I want to help. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

Patiently he guided you step by step through the process of cleaning his stump. You inspected his skin thoroughly, looking for irritation or any signs of infection, then washed it with a mild soap.

He had to admit that watching the woman he loved take such good care of his scar made his stomach fill with butterflies. You looked so focused, so attentive, that he could help but smile and try to kiss you.

“Bucky,” you complained, turning your head away, avoiding his kiss. “This is serious business, stop fooling around.”

He almost said it. I love you. But something was holding him back. He didn’t know what would happen next and it scared him. He didn’t want this to be a one-time thing, but he also realized that things were moving too fast.

“Okay, now you’re shivering,” he said, holding you close, trying to share his body heat with you. “Let’s get out of here.”

He wrapped you in a fluffy bathrobe and patted you dry. Then you carefully dried his scar and applied corticosteroid cream to his shoulder, massaging it gently into his skin. He slipped on his robe and you loosely tied the belt at his waist.

“We should talk about what just happened,” you said, playing with the belt. “What does it mean? What are we going to do? Can we-mph”

He cut you off with a kiss, long and hard and filled with passion. You smiled against his lips and finally pulled away.

“Is that how you’re going to shut me up from now on?” you asked with a grin.

“We’ll talk,” he said, pressing his forehead against yours. “But not tonight.”

“When then?”

“Tomorrow, I promise.”

You looked down at your hands on his belt and nodded. He tilted your head up and lowered his mouth to yours.

“Don’t avoid me tomorrow. Please.”

Your words felt like a knife in his heart, and it left him momentarily speechless. He took one of your hands and pressed it against his heart. “No matter what we decide to do, you’re my angel and I’m yours.”

You shared a long, silent hug before you both decided to call it a night. Once he saw the footprints in the corridor, Bucky felt the urge to clean them. He tried to resist but he knew if he didn't clean he wouldn't be able to sleep.

You understood –you always understood. That’s why he felt so comfortable with you.

Once it was clean, he joined you in the kitchen and made you breakfast for dinner, opening the cupboard and pulling out a couple boxes of cereal you didn’t even know he had.

He told you that he was keeping them for a special occasion. He remembered you telling him that it was your favourite meal as a kid, watching TV with your siblings every Sunday night, eating cereals.

“I can’t believe you remembered that,” you said, tears in your eyes.

The two of you sat on your bed, sharing random thoughts and spoonfuls of cereal. You giggled as milk dribbled down his chin and stained his robe. You wiped at the spot on his chin with your thumb and gave him a chaste kiss.

Your lips tasted sweet. Bucky pulled you in for another kiss, discarding the dirty dishes on your bedside table. You helped each other undress, then slid under the covers where you laid your head on Bucky’s chest.

“Bucky,” your voice cut through the quiet. “Do you mind-”

“Don’t worry, my angel, I’ll wait until you fall asleep.”

“Thank you.”

Part 12

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Walk Me Home

Summary: Jared is hosting a small dinner party and introduces his new co-star to his old one where they seem to hit it off...

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Square: Quote B “Tell me what I can do to help”

Word Count: 2,600ish

Warnings: language, small accident, mention of smut

A/N: Enjoy! Written for @supernatural-jackles​ Tell Me A Story Bingo!

________

“Hey, sorry I was late,” said a guy ducking in through the front door. You turned your head from where you sat at the counter with Jared, the two of you talking with Gen while they cooked dinner. He smiled when he saw you and you watched the slightly curious look spread across his face. “Hi, I’m Jensen.”

“Y/N,” you said, shaking his hand as he stepped over. 

“Oh wow,” he said, looking past you to Jared. You raised an eyebrow and he shook his head. “Sorry, I’m...frazzled right now. You’re gonna be in Walker, right? Jared’s told me a little about you.”

“Yeah. I’ll be playing Kit, Walker’s kid sister,” you said. “Have some bourbon, relax a little.”

“Bourbon? I like her. She can hang out with us,” said Jensen as he walked around the island, getting a glass from the cabinet like he knew where everything was. “Kid sister huh? How many siblings Walker got anyways?”

“Well, I can’t spoil anything but just the two. Not that I’m getting sister of the year award,” you laughed. Gen was smiling as she worked over a pot and Jared excused himself to help her with something. Jensen used some of the orange peel you’d cut up and put it in his drink and took a long sip. “You like it? I can’t cook so I figured I’d bring some booze and dessert.”

“This is good,” he said. “Really good. I want some for myself. Also, did I hear dessert?”

“I made pull apart pumpkin cinnamon bread. It’s like a cinnamon roll but bigger,” you said.

“You and me are gonna get along great,” he chuckled. He moved around the island and stood on the end just to your right, looking you over quickly. “What have you been in? I’ve not heard of you before.”

“Not much. I did one commercial when I was twenty and I was an extra in a TV show about two years after that. I haven’t had my break through yet. Well, until now. This is...this is huge. I’m kind of terrified to be honest.”

“I worked with him for a very long time,” said Jensen, nodding to the far end of the kitchen. “It’s gonna be a good set, good environment. A few people from our old crew are gonna be working on Walker. You’re gonna fit right in no problem.”

“I hope so,” you said. “Jared’s really been great. He even answered all these questions I had about moving down here and areas and stuff when he didn’t have to. He and Gen have been really amazing. I think I’ll be okay.”

“You’ll be fine. He must like you,” he said.

“Oh I’m just...single and know zero people here,” you said. “I might get a dog? I think my apartment allows them.”

“Well now you know me too,” he smirked, taking a sip. “Or getting to know at the very least.”

“So what were you doing?” you asked. He cocked his head and you smiled. “Being late and all.”

“Who says I was late?” he said, smiling back. “Just frazzled. Also late but mostly frazzled.”

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“Not your fault. My ex was claiming she left something at my house. I was oh so thrilled to see her and her husband there to pick it up,” he said.

“Oh. She moved on fast, huh?”

“She started to see him before we were quite done. He’s an idiot that thinks she’s amazing and he’s richer than me so she’s happy. That’s all she wanted. Wish I’d figured that out in the first place. Glad we never married though,” he said. He shrugged but he didn’t seem too upset by it. He finished off his drink and poured another. “Where are you staying?”

“I’m renting a house just north of the city in some suburb. Jared said there’s nothing to the east and the south ain’t great and I can’t afford west so, north it was,” you said.

“North’s not bad. Your commute shouldn’t be too bad. You got a driver or you taking yourself?”

“Myself. I’m not the star or anything.”

“It doesn’t have to do with that. You work a late night, call an uber. Hell call me. Better than getting in an accident,” he said. “By second season, you’ll be making enough to afford one.”

“Assuming I get on in the second season,” you said. You quickly shut your lips, Jared chuckling to himself.

“Jensen worked for the same company for a long time. Don’t worry about your non-disclosure agreement with him,” said Jared. “Y/N might get killed off at the end of the season. We’re not sure yet.”

“This may or may not have an impact on our friendship,” you said with a laugh.

“Oh, come on, Jare. Look at that face. You really gonna kill her off?” said Jensen, turning you towards Jared. You saw Jensen pout and put on one of your own.

“I told you getting those two together would be a good thing,” said Gen. Jared rolled his eyes but bit his bottom lip.

“The powers at be haven’t made up their minds yet. I’d personally love it but storyline might get changed which I’m okay with. If fans love you, I’ll get my way,” said Jared. “You guys want to head out to the patio? We’re almost done cooking.”

“We can help,” you said, Jared shaking his head.

“We got it,” he said. You shrugged and followed Jensen out a back door to a covered patio area and took a seat at the table.

“He’s up to something,” chuckled Jensen. “Not sure what yet.”

“They’re just playing good host,” you said.

“Nah, those two are scheming. I can tell,” he teased. He took the seat beside you and leaned back in his chair.

“You check me out a lot,” you said. He quickly looked at his glass and made a small shrugging motion. “You like me?”

“I don’t know. I barely know you,” he said, still averting your gaze. 

“I didn’t mean to make you shy. I’m not opposed to you checking me out. I just wasn’t expecting it. I heard you were dating someone,” you said.

“Rumor. Put it out there so people would leave me alone,” he said. “I’m not shy around you either, you know.”

“Alright.”

“At first I am with most people. I mean, I can act like the life of the party and like the coolest guy in the room.”

“Act would be the key word there,” you said, taking a sip from your glass.

“Yeah well, most people put up some kind of front with strangers or people they don’t know that well.”

“Very true. I do it myself,” you said.

“So like I said, I ain’t shy.”

“Like I said, shy boy is attracted to me. When the confident boy that is really a shy boy is interested, laid back girl will become confident flirty girl very quickly if you understand,” you said.

“Are you saying you’re attracted to me?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Considering you’re attracted to me, I don’t see how this is a problem.”

“You are something else,” he said, some of his confidence returning.

“Yes I-” you said, Jared walking out with his phone to his ear. He looked worried and you both put your full attention on him.

“Shep just fell. He and Tom were jumping off the bunk bed and…” said Jared. “Looks like he might have broken his arm.”

“Is he okay?” you asked, Jensen echoing the sentiment. 

“Yeah. We just…”

“Tell me what I can do to help,” you said.

“Everybody relax,” said Jensen as he stood up. “You guys take Shep to get taken care of. Y/N and I will watch the other munchkins.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Dinner’s in the pot on the stove. Eat it up. No need to waste it.”

“Text us to let us know how it goes,” you said.

“Sure thing. I owe you guys one,” he said.

“No, you don’t. Go,” said Jensen. You both ducked back inside and five minutes later they were gone. Tom was feeling pretty bad about what happened but Jensen gave him a talk and put him to bed while you packed away some leftovers for Jared and Gen.

“How’s he doing?” you asked, sticking the tupperware in the fridge.

“He’ll be alright. Wasn’t his fault. They were just being kids,” he said. He helped you find the plates and you dished yourself up the rest of the food, eating at the kitchen counter quietly. “That was nice of you, to be so concerned.”

“They’ve been nothing but kind to me. Besides, it’s a kid,” you said. “I don’t mind staying.”

“You don’t have to. They’re both fast asleep. I can stay until they get back.”

“I said I’d stay. I’m gonna stay,” you said. He licked his lips and hummed, cleaning up his plate before you.

“Say you had a point earlier. I’m not saying you did but hypothetically speaking,” he said.

“Go on.”

“Say my frazzledness was because when I saw you, my head sort of short-circuited, hypothetically.”

“Hypothetically,” you said, finishing with your food.

“Say that happened and say you were good with that, happy about that...where exactly would this go seeing as I hypothetically have never been the hook up guy. Never actually done it but I’m now questioning it for the first time. Hypothetically, what’d your response to that be?”

“Well, if that were the case,” you said as you took your plate and put it in the dishwasher, “I would tell you not to hookup with me simply for the fact that sex for you is very likely part of being in a relationship and something you do when you feel comfortable with a person which I completely respect and understand. I wouldn’t want you to change how you treat sex just for me. Hypothetically.”

“But what if I said I’d never felt that kind of attraction to anyone before, at any stage in a relationship, not to that level. Not that floor you kind of overwhelming sensation.”

“I would tell you the attraction is reciprocated and while I would very much like to see what you are capable of and what we’re capable of doing together, I would tell you that you’re not the hookup guy and you’re not about to start being one. You should continue to have sex with your romantic partners and that’s all. It means more to you. A hookup will leave a sour taste in your mouth and I’d rather we don’t think of each other like that seeing as we’ll likely be spending more time together.”

“It’s not just physical you know. It’s that, it’s that logic and that kindness and compassion.”

“I get it. I would. I really, really would. But I’m breaking your record. I don’t want to be the girl that breaks that record, Jensen.”

“If we dated though, that’s different.”

“I don’t date to get sex.”

“Neither do I.”

“So you want to date?” you asked. He leaned back against the counter and smiled to himself. “It’s an easy question.”

“I wanted to date you the second I saw you but that comes off as a little strong,” he said. 

“I personally believe it’s important that people click when it comes to dating and relationships,” you said.

“So is there a click?” he asked. You walked in front of him and smiled, bringing your lips just an inch away from his. 

“There’s a click but there’s got to be something else,” you said, Jensen’s lips parting. “After my last failed relationship and it sounds like yours too, it’s important.”

“What’s that?” he asked quietly, not moving an inch.

“I want to be friends with my next boyfriend, someday when I find whoever I’m gonna be with. It’s always miserable when you’re not friends,” you said.

“Who says you didn’t just meet your best friend for the rest of your life tonight,” he said.

“Now that’s a strong statement,” you said.

“It is. I don’t like the sentiment though that there’s gonna be a somebody else after me. I’m not filling time with this,” he said.

“Neither am I,” you said.

“Good,” he said. He leaned in a hair closer and his lips tugged up into a grin. “I’m going to heat up that pumpkin roll you brought and then play video games while not kissing you. I’d be very happy if you joined in.”

“Tease,” you said. You took a step back and went to the container you brought. “Can you preheat the oven for me?”

“Sure thing,” he said. “It looks amazing.”

“It’s not the only thing,” you said, flashing him a wink.

“I see how it’s gonna go.”

“You started it,” you said.

“Yes, yes I did. Now how high do you need it?”

Four Hours Later

“Thanks again guys,” said Jared as you and Jensen stepped outside.

“It was no problem. We saved dinner and dessert for you guys in the fridge,” said Jensen. 

“I’ll make something for Shep and drop it by. He like chocolate?” you asked.

“Yeah, he loves it. You really don’t have-”

“Jared, like Jensen said, it’s all good. We’ll see you,” you said.

“Alright, alright,” he said. “Tell me when you two get together.”

“Already late on that one,” said Jensen with a smirk. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“You better. Night guys. And take her home like a gentleman,” said Jared.

“Yeah, yeah. Night,” said Jensen. Jared locked up and you wandered over to your car, Jensen smiling as he stood by his truck. “So I guess this is good night.”

“It could be a good night,” you said as you started to yawn. “Maybe tomorrow though.”

“Tomorrow maybe,” he smirked. “Text me when you get home.”

“Why?”

“Cause I worry about my friends,” he said. “Please?”

“Alright. So...tomorrow…”

“Tomorrow night,” he said. “Maybe I can cook you dinner. Bring a bathing suit, we could go for a dip in the pool maybe.”

“Maybe,” you smirked back. “I’ll see you tomorrow Jensen.”

“You too. Oh and Y/N? Might want to sleep in tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“I got a feeling you’re gonna be up late tomorrow night,” he said, winking at you.

“Oh really? We’ll have to see how a good a cook you are first.”

“I guess we will. Drive safe, Y/N,” he said, voice soft and sweet.

“You too, Jensen. You too.”

_______

[hqbbg]

no regrets.

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader (ft. oikawa)

prompt:  "I wonder what he’d do if he knew you were with me right now."

genre: smut with a sprinkle of angst

word count: 7.3K (i’m so sorry, this came out way longer than i intended)

warnings: 18+, slowburn like wow look at that word count, mentions of alcohol, some cheating, fingering, oral (f.receiving), unprotected s3x, aftercare

author’s note: here’s my monthly contribution to the Haikyuu!! Headquarters server collab! here’s the masterlist, so be sure to check everyone else’s works out too! hope you guys enjoy :)

The sunlight seeping in through your bedroom window feels warm on your face as you stir awake. Stretching your arms above your head, you sigh in contentment, satisfied with the quality of sleep you had. You roll over to check your phone, frowning as it fails to turn on, realizing that you’d forgotten to charge it after a call with your boyfriend who’s currently halfway across the world.

Suddenly, a thought strikes you and you scramble out of bed to check the wall clock you have hanging in your apartment’s living room. A loud gasp followed by a curse leaves your lips as you rush to the bathroom to get ready for work.

You’re running late. Again.

Dread spreads through your senses as you quickly go through your morning routine, thinking of all the possible excuses you can offer your boss that won’t result in the loss of your job. As you finish up in the bathroom, you practically run to your room and carelessly throw on a relatively clean white shirt and a pair of pants before rushing out the door. Despite your hectic morning, you’re out the door in record time, locking it behind you. You have half a thought to give yourself a pat on the back. Unfortunately, you just don’t have the time for that right now.

By the time you arrive at work, you’re breathless and visibly frazzled, only slightly annoyed when your coworkers give you suspicious and questioning looks. As you’d expected, your boss hardly greets you before demanding a reason as to why you’re late. You can already tell that today’s going to be a long day, the fact amplified when you realize you’d left your phone charger at home.

When you finally clock out after a particularly long shift, hardly sparing your coworkers a proper goodbye on your way out, you feel momentary relief knowing that you’ve gotten that out of the way. As you step outside, another groan leaves your lips as you look up at the thick and dark clouds overhead. With your phone being dead in combination with being late, you had no idea that rain was in the forecast for today. There were hardly any clouds this morning on your way to work, too! Well, maybe there were, you were just too preoccupied to notice.

You silently plead that the journey home is a dry one, but you should know better than to have hope on a bad day like this.

When you feel the first of many heavy raindrops, you curse under your breath and briefly scan the area to find some shelter, eyes landing on a nearby café. You walk as quickly as you can, avoiding others who either came prepared with their umbrellas or those who, much like you, are rushing to find a place to stay dry.

Pushing the door open, you’re finally able to catch your breath. However, the relief is short lived when someone else opens the door from behind you to get inside, shoving you into another person who was on their way out.

Just as you begin to think the day can’t get any worse, the world clearly has other ideas. You feel it before you see it: the cup of iced coffee spilling onto your shirt and practically freezing your skin as you let out a yelp.

“Oh, shit, are you okay?”

Your head whips up at the oddly familiar voice and you’re surprised to see Iwaizumi Hajime standing before you, looking around frantically to search for napkins to clean you up. If it weren’t for the icy and numbing sensation on your chest, you would’ve been happy to see him.

He takes a couple long strides to the nearest condiment bar and swipes a handful of napkins before rushing back to you. He still hasn’t realized that it’s you standing before him: his best friend’s girlfriend whom he hasn’t seen or spoken to in years.

Wordlessly taking the napkins from him, you peel the shirt away from you while pressing them into the fabric. Though your chin is tucked so you can look at your shirt, you can feel Iwaizumi’s eyes on you.

“Wait, Y/N?”

You lift your head and greet him with an awkward smile.

“Hey,” you lamely respond as you finally give up on your shirt. Your next best option is to get home quickly and throw it into the washer while you take a nice, long shower. Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. The only issue now is finding a way home that doesn’t involve getting drenched by the storm raging outside.

“Wow, it’s been awhile,” says Iwaizumi as he lifts his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “It’s good to see you, but sorry about your shirt.”

“It’s fine, my day’s been pretty bad to begin with,” you sigh. You immediately realize the implications of your statement and feel your eyes widen as you scramble to recover. “I mean, not to say you’ve ruined my day or anything! I just—it’s just been one of those days.”

Iwaizumi offers an apologetic and understanding smile. “I get it, you don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“Thanks,” you reply gratefully. “I didn’t know you came back from the States.”

“Yeah, I graduated and came back for good a couple months ago,” he says casually. His eyes flicker for a brief moment to the stain on your chest and he quickly shifts his gaze elsewhere, clearing his throat. “Do you, uh, have a jacket or a change of clothes?”

“No, I was running late this morning and my phone’s been dead, so I didn’t get a chance to check the weather or anything,” you reply with a frown. “I’m clearly living my best life right now.”

You half meant it as a joke to lighten the mood, but the frown settling on your former classmate’s face tells you that it was not received that way.

“It doesn’t look like the storm is gonna let up anytime soon,” says Iwaizumi, sensing your concern as you turn your head ever so slightly to check the weather outside. “Do you live far?”

You shake your head, turning back to face him. “No, I’m just a couple more blocks away.”

“If you want, I can walk you home,” he generously offers. “My umbrella isn't that big, but it would get the job done.”

“Oh, you don’t have to!” You’re quick to shake your head, waving your hands out in front of you. “My shirt’s already done for and I can just make a run for it, so it’ll be faster.”

Iwaizumi seems to hesitate, giving you a quick once-over with his eyes. “Okay, well, the least I can do then is offer you my jacket. I did spill my coffee all over you, after all.”

You open your mouth to refuse his kindness, but he’s already shrugging out of the outerwear and holding it up in front of you.

“Take it,” he insists as he locks eyes with you. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

You hesitate for a moment and glance down at your shirt to see if you really need it. Your eyes widen slightly when you’re able to see your bra through the damp fabric and the way it sticks to your skin, particularly the valley of your cleavage.

Muttering your gratitude, you’re quick to take it and put it on, feeling dwarfed instantly. You close the jacket and glance out the window again to see what you’re working with before looking back at him.

“Alright, well, I guess I’ll be going now,” you say, getting ready to turn and leave. “Oh, wait.”

You turn back around and Iwaizumi raises a brow.

“How do I get your jacket back to you?”

“Oh, right.” The thought seems to have slipped from Iwaizumi’s mind too. “Uh, here, give me your number. We can find another time and place for you to give it back to me.”

Iwaizumi shuffles and grabs his phone from his pocket, giving it a couple taps before holding it out to you. You thank him and quickly input your contact information, sending a quick text to yourself before handing the device back to him.

“Thanks, Hajime,” you say with a grateful smile. The look on his face is one of surprise and you realize it’s the first time you’ve called him by name today. Actually, since the last time you saw him back in high school. “This time, I’m going for real.”

Iwaizumi recovers quickly enough to give you a nod and a small wave. “Good luck out there.”

“Thanks, I’m gonna need it,” you say, sighing warily as you turn towards the door again. This time, you don’t look back, preparing yourself for the stormy commute that awaits you.

“Sounds like you had a rough day.”

“It was awful, Tooru,” you whine as you pad through your kitchen, trying to figure out what you want to eat for dinner with your phone propped up on one of the kitchen counters. You’re on a video call with Oikawa in your oversized t-shirt and hair wrapped up in a towel, having come freshly out of the shower before this. “Oh! But something interesting did happen earlier.”

You hear your boyfriend hum curiously, urging you to continue.

“I saw Hajime,” you say, inspecting some vegetables in your fridge that have been in there for a suspicious amount of time.

“Oh?” Oikawa sounds as equally surprised as you were earlier. “Wow, how long has it been since you saw him?”

“I haven’t seen him since high school,” you reply as you put the vegetables on the counter next to your phone, seeing Oikawa still laying in bed. “He let me borrow his jacket on my way home to avoid getting my shirt any wetter.”

“Oh, that’s nice of him,” Oikawa responds with less enthusiasm than you’d expected. You thought he’d be more excited to hear that his girlfriend and best friend interacted, but there’s something in his voice that doesn’t necessarily sound right. “He always had a soft spot for you back then, too.”

“Really?” You raise a brow as you return to your fridge. “How so?”

“Well, that’s irrelevant now,” Oikawa says, nonchalantly brushing off the subject. You don’t question things further, more concerned about what to eat for dinner.

You stay on call together for a little longer before Oikawa has to leave for practice, and eventually, you’re left alone in the comforts of your apartment. You still have yet to settle on dinner and migrate to your couch to see if anything looks appetizing on your local food delivery app.

As you mindlessly scroll, you hear your washing machine go off to alert you that your laundry is done. Setting your phone down on your coffee table, you stand and go to transfer the clean clothes into the dryer. As you pull out Iwaizumi’s jacket, you’re reminded that you need to return it soon; there’s no point in keeping it here for too long.

Walking back over to your couch, you plop back down and pick up your phone. This time, you navigate through it to locate Iwaizumi’s name and type up a quick text to ask him for his availability in the next couple of days. He doesn’t respond for several minutes and you return to your relentless search to find something to eat.

Deciding on one of the local fast food restaurants, you place your order and sprawl yourself out over your couch. With roughly twenty minutes before the food arrives, you try to busy yourself on your phone before dejectedly placing it down beside you.

Your phone buzzes with a notification and you lift the screen to see a banner with Iwaizumi’s name on it. Reading over his reply, you find that he’s available on your day off in the next few days. You type up a response to ask him if he’s willing to meet up so you can return his jacket, and this time, he responds quickly with a simple agreement.

After texting him a time and place, you set your phone back down beside you. It’s been so long since you last saw him, it feels strange. You can’t help but think back to your time in high school and the memories you had with him.

Back then, you weren’t the biggest fan of volleyball like the rest of your friends were, so you never really went to the games unless they dragged you along. You recognized some of the boys from your class, though you could hardly remember their names; they were never the ones your friends talked about—they weren’t Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime.

You actually met Iwaizumi before you’d met Oikawa, but that was because you’d bumped into him on your way to the bathroom during one of the games your friends had taken you to. Sure, he didn’t introduce himself or anything, simply muttering an apology before storming off somewhere, but it was still your first memorable interaction with him.

It was one of your friends that got you acquainted with Oikawa sometime later, and after the two of you officially started dating towards the end of your second year, you started seeing Iwaizumi more often. He was slightly intimidating at first, but after some time, you’d come to learn that he was a big softie on the inside—he just didn’t like to show that to other people.

Most of your friends were jealous that you were the lucky girl who somehow caught the popular captain’s eye, so when the two of you had gone on a break in the middle of your third year, no one was really around for you. Except Iwaizumi.

It was neither of your first choices to have him listen to you cry over the phone about Oikawa on a Friday night, but that’s where you’d both ended up. He was terrible at giving advice, but he was a good listener at the very least.

Ever since then, you were more comfortable with him and he seemed to feel the same way. When you got back together with Oikawa, he was less than thrilled to hear the news, but respected your relationship nonetheless. He stopped responding to your texts as much, stopped answering your calls, and by the time you graduated, he barely spoke to you when Oikawa wasn’t around.

To say that it didn’t upset you was a lie; you considered him to be a friend, after all. So, when you had to hear from Oikawa that Iwaizumi left for America for school instead of hearing it from him directly, you were a little hurt. Oikawa had assured you to not take it so personally, telling you “that’s just how he is”. Since then, you’ve moved on with your life and now you’re here.

Your thoughts are interrupted when your phone buzzes and you look to see that your food’s arrived. As you bring it inside, you settle back down on your couch and find something to watch before indulging in your meal. Finally, the day is over.

Thankfully, the rest of your week isn’t too bad. Your day off finally rolls around and you’re waiting patiently inside the café you’d bumped into Iwaizumi at, nursing a cup of hot coffee in your hands. You’d arrived several minutes early, so you’re surprised to see him walking in five minutes before your agreed upon time.

Calling out his name, you raise your arm to wave him over to the table you’re sitting at.

“Hey, you’re here early,” he says as he sits himself down across from you.

“So are you,” you remark, taking a slow sip from your cup.

“Ah, yeah, I was hoping to get some coffee before we met up,” he says, glancing towards the front counter.

“Sure, don’t let me stop you,” you say with a small smile on your face. He nods and excuses himself, leaving you alone at your table.

Your eyes follow his figure, trailing along the broad expanse of his shoulders and back, admiring the way it all tapers at his waist. He’s filled out a lot since high school, and you can tell he’s worked hard to get to where he is now.

When he comes back with his iced coffee in hand, he sits back down in his seat across from you.

“Here’s your jacket,” you say, lifting the paper bag you packed the borrowed clothing in. “Thanks for letting me use it.”

“No problem.” He takes it and there’s a moment of awkward silence.

You can feel his slight discomfort as he shifts a little in his seat, so you decide to break some of the ice. “So, how’ve you been?”

As the conversation progresses, you can feel him slowly opening up and getting more comfortable with you. You come to learn that he’s still in contact with Oikawa, which spurs a shared trip down memory lane.

By the time you start to wrap up your time together, you realize that it’s getting dark outside and check the time. Where had the time gone?

“Wow, we’ve been here awhile.”

Iwaizumi flicks his wrist to check the time and nods. “Yeah, we have. Do you wanna grab dinner?”

You hesitate for a moment. Typically, you call Oikawa around this time, but you figure it doesn’t hurt to not call today. He would understand, right? He knows that you were upset when Iwaizumi practically ghosted you, so he’d understand that you’d want to make up for some lost time, right? Iwaizumi’s his best friend, after all; what would be the harm in hanging out with him for just a little longer?

“Sure, what did you have in mind?”

The two of you settle on a restaurant nearby where you proceed to spend a couple more hours just talking and enjoying each other’s company. You want to ask him why he stopped talking to you in the first place, but you figure that maybe tonight isn’t the best time nor is this the place.

Iwaizumi ends up walking you home, claiming it’s not safe for a girl to be out alone at this hour and that he’d be doing a disservice to you and Oikawa if he let you go off on your own.

“You know, I actually had a lot of fun today,” you say as the both of you stand in front of your door.

“Surprisingly, I did too,” he says with a playful smirk on his lips. He seems much more relaxed than he was several hours ago and part of you is excited to think that things might go back to how they used to be in high school with him.

“Let’s keep in touch more,” you suggest. “It’ll be like high school all over again.”

His lips falter a little, a detail you miss as you turn to unlock your door.

“Anyways, thanks for walking me home,” you say with a smile. “Have a good rest of your night.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you later,” he replies with a nod before turning on his heels to leave. You also step into your apartment and lock the door behind you. Today’s been a good day.

Over the next several weeks, you end up seeing Iwaizumi more often. Whether it’s for a quick coffee or even running errands on your day off, he’s been there to keep you company. When you had told Oikawa about it at first, he was less than thrilled to hear the news, but you figured it was simply because he felt left out.

When you told him that Iwaizumi had come over once to help you carry groceries, he had gotten upset and it led to a small argument that led to the two of you refusing to speak to each other for three days. You didn’t see the harm in spending this much time with Iwaizumi—did Oikawa not trust either of you?

Needless to say, when you started talking again, you felt some tension and decided not to bring up Iwaizumi as much anymore. Part of you felt bad for not giving your boyfriend the whole truth, but he didn’t seem to trust you and you didn’t want to deal with another argument and the possibility that your long-term relationship would end over your friendship with another man.

You decided to keep this from Iwaizumi; you didn’t want him to feel bad in case he blamed himself if something were to go wrong with your relationship. Well, not that you’d think anything would go wrong. You’ve gotten this far in your relationship with Oikawa, and sure, there have been a couple bumps in the road along the way, but you’ve both made it work.

“Oi.” Iwaizumi’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you turn your head to look at him. You’re currently sitting on his couch in his apartment, having agreed to come over to watch movies.

“Hm?”

“I asked if you wanted something to drink,” he replies from his kitchen. The fridge door is propped open and you think it over for a moment.

“I’ll take anything,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. He returns with two beers in his hands, handing one to you before sitting himself down beside you on the couch.

“What are we watching?”

“I found this movie with one star,” you say as you pull it up on his tv. “It’s going to be terrible.”

“I’m gonna need more drinks for this.” You laugh lightheartedly as the movie begins playing.

The both of you don’t even make it halfway through before searching for another bad movie to make fun of. As Iwaizumi searches on his phone, he gets an alert that the food you two had ordered has arrived and you get up to grab it. When you return, you place the food on the table in front of you and plop down beside him.

You feel your leg brushing his and realize you’ve miscalculated your spacing, but he makes no effort to move away from you. Taking out the food, you hand him his meal and grab your own, settling back comfortably as he sets up another movie.

As the movie drones on and on, the two of you finish your dinners, engaging in your own conversation. You see his eyes on your mouth as you speak and suddenly feel a little self-conscious. Do you have something in your teeth?

“You have a little,” he lifts his finger to point at his own mouth, “something there.”

You wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand, but apparently miss as Iwaizumi tells you the food is still there. You wipe at it again, but it seems to be stubborn and Iwaizumi eventually gets frustrated. He lifts his hand to your face and gently brushes the culprit away with his thumb, allowing his digit to trace your bottom lip for a moment.

He seems just as stunned as you are at the soft and intimate gesture, quickly pulling away and turning back to the movie, clearing his throat. You also slowly turn, keeping your eyes fixed on the screen in front of you.

The air feels awkward and heavy and the silence between the two of you is deafening, if not for the movie blabbering on its own. You watch from the side of your eye as Iwaizumi takes a long sip from his beer, knocking the whole thing back until there’s not a drop left. He sets it down and clears his throat.

“Uh, do you want to watch something else?” He doesn’t meet your eyes.

“This is fine,” you reply. “It’s not as bad as the first one, at least.”

You watch the corner of his lip quirk upwards a little. “Yeah, that one was pretty bad.”

The tension in the room seems to ease up a little and he leaves to grab a couple more drinks, taking the trash left from your dinner with him. When he comes back, he sets the bottles down on the table and sits down right where he was, though this time it feels more intentional with his placement by your side.

The movie, although terrible from the start, seems to get increasingly more boring, so you turn to him to start another conversation.

“I have a question,” you say, fidgeting your fingers in your lap. Iwaizumi turns to look at you with a raised brow, wordlessly urging you to continue. “So, you remember back in high school how we were friends and then we weren’t?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Iwaizumi says, nodding slowly. He seems to know where this is going.

“Why did that happen?”

You can practically see Iwaizumi’s thoughts being processed in real time as he weighs the different options he has depending on his response. He opens his mouth to say something, only to close it again.

“Fuck it,” he mutters under his breath before inhaling deeply. “I liked you. A lot.”

The way his eyes lock with yours nearly sends a shiver down your spine, but you chalk it up to the alcohol pulsing through your veins.

“I wanted to ask you out, thought that you might be into me too, but then I heard you got back with Oikawa, so I backed off,” he says. “I know it was a dick move on my end without telling you why, but I figured it was better that way.”

“Did Oikawa know about this?” You have a lot of questions you want to ask, but somehow, this is the one that slips through first.

“Of course he did; he’s my best friend.” Iwaizumi seems a little agitated as he fidgets in his seat.

You try to think of a way to respond. That would explain Oikawa’s attitude towards your renewed friendship with his best friend, though part of you feels conflicted. Could you have possibly harbored feelings for him in return back then? Maybe, but what does it matter now? You’re in a relationship with Oikawa, you shouldn’t even entertain the thought of what if…

“It doesn’t matter now,” says Iwaizumi, pulling you out of your thoughts. “That was the past.”

“If I hadn’t gotten back together with Oikawa, what would you have done?” Your voice is quiet and you know you’re treading dangerous waters right now. The alcohol is definitely not helping with your sense of judgment either.

“I probably would’ve asked you out,” he replies plainly as he shifts his attention to the fabric of his sweats. “If the feelings weren’t returned, well, I don’t see much being different from what ended up happening.”

“What if I said yes?”

Iwaizumi lifts his head and turns to look at you again. You know you should stop now, but now you want to know. To be honest, it’s not like you haven’t thought about dating him in the past; he’s a great guy, and honestly, anyone would be an idiot to turn him down without a really good excuse.

“Y/N, we shouldn’t,” he says slowly. You don’t even realize you’ve been leaning into him until your lips are nearly touching.

“I know,” is all you manage to say before your lips are pressing against his. You feel electrified and realize how touch-starved you’ve been all this time.

Iwaizumi tastes like beer and the musk of his cologne feels overwhelming to your senses. You can’t help but raise your hand to weave through his hair, hardly protesting as his tongue pushes into your mouth. You feel his hands rest on your waist and you slide onto his lap, unable to resist the small roll of your hips against his groin. He lets out a low groan and you can feel him twitch through his pants.

A million red flags and sirens are going off in your head, but you ignore them all, letting your hands slip down to rest on Iwaizumi’s broad and built chest. His own hands slide down the dip of your waist towards your hips and you feel him slowly guide them along the growing hardness between his legs.

Just as your hands begin to wander further, your phone begins to vibrate loudly on the table behind you. It’s as if a bucket of ice water is dumped on you and you pull away rather quickly. Iwaizumi’s hands drop from your side.

Your phone is still buzzing and you slide off of his lap to grab your phone, the weight of guilt beginning to settle in your stomach as Oikawa’s name and a picture of you two flash on the screen.

“I’m gonna go,” you say, standing abruptly, trying not to sway at the headrush.

Iwaizumi doesn’t say anything as you practically run out of there, quickly answering Oikawa’s call before it goes to voicemail. You don’t see the way he buries his face in his hands as he leans forward on his knees.

“Hey, Tooru,” you greet a little breathlessly.

“Hey—are you okay?” His voice is laced with concern and you can only imagine what you sound like right now.

“Yeah, I’m just out right now,” you say. You chew your bottom lip as you begin your walk home, still able to taste Iwaizumi. “Can I actually call you back?”

“Sure, but is everything alright? You sound a little stressed,” he says, voice laced with concern. You feel the tears springing in your eyes as you inhale a shaky breath.

“Yeah, I’ll call you back when I get home, okay?”

Oikawa hesitates, but you’re already hanging up on him. By the time you get back to your apartment, you feel lightheaded. What just happened?

You went a solid three days before breaking under the pressure you’ve placed on yourself. Oikawa was beyond livid and you had cried yourself to sleep that night, telling yourself that he deserved better. You know he does.

He doesn’t answer your call for the rest of the week and you consider simply sending him a long message to express how sorry you are. As you’re about to do so, you receive a text from one of your friends, followed by an apology. With a frown, you open it and see that it’s a link to a gossip website in Argentina. Not really caring for the words, you scowl as you scroll through and see paparazzi photos of Oikawa with a beautiful woman draped on his arm. There are several different photos of the two together in different outfits to imply that they’ve been taken on different days.

It feels like you’ve been punched in the gut when you connect the pieces.

Without even thinking, you simply text Oikawa that your relationship is done and grab your jacket and keys, practically running out the door. You feel blinded with hurt and anger as your legs carry you all the way to a familiar doorstep you haven’t been to in awhile.

The door opens on your third knock and Iwaizumi looks surprised to see you standing there.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“Oikawa and I are done,” you say. Hearing yourself say it out loud seems to solidify it as reality and you resist the tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“Y/N, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here like this,” he says, sighing warily, before muttering under his breath, "I wonder what he’d do if he knew you were with me right now."

“Hajime,” you say, hands and voice trembling as you pull out your phone, holding it in front of him. He hesitantly takes it from you and you can see his eyes widen for a moment as he scrolls, slowly handing the phone back to you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“I just need a distraction right now.” You look up at him with watery eyes before he lets out a sigh, stepping aside so you can come in. Closing the door behind you, he follows you into the living room.

“So, what do you want me to—”

His sentence is cut short when you turn, leaning up to kiss him. Your hands fist his shirt, and you can feel him hesitantly move his lips against yours. You know your way around his apartment enough to begin pulling him into the direction of his bedroom, careful with your steps so you don’t trip or fall.

“Y/N,” Iwaizumi says, pulling away slightly as the backs of your legs hit the edge of his bed. His voice is coarse and his half-lidded eyes are dark. “I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret later.”

“I won’t regret this,” you say softly, looking up into his eyes. He can still see that you have tears in your eyes, but behind that is a sense of lust.

“If at any point you want to stop, tell me, okay?” Iwaizumi lifts a hand to brush your hair away from your face. Your grip on his shirt tightens as you nod.

“Thank you,” you say, before kissing him again. This time, he seems more willing to kiss you back, easing you down until you’re laying on your back on his bed. He hovers over you, kissing along your jaw to your neck. You let out a shaky sigh as his hands slowly stroke your sides. You can feel his hesitancy to touch you more, so you wrap your legs around his torso and grind against him.

“Fuck,” he hisses under his breath as one of his hands slip under your shirt. You watch as he leans up slightly to drag your shirt up to your neck, exposing your bra. You sit up just a little so he can help get the fabric completely off, tossing it aside before kissing down your chest to your clothed breasts. His hand comes up to squeeze one and a whimper leaves your lips.

Seriously, when was the last time anyone has touched you like this?

Iwaizumi reaches under you to unhook your bra with seemingly practiced ease and you arch your back up to give him easier access. Peeling the garment off of yourself, this time you’re the one to discard it somewhere on his bedroom floor.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he says before capturing a nipple between his lips. You sigh softly as his tongue flicks the hardening bud, the other being pinched between his thumb and index finger.

He alternates between your breasts for a few more moments before kissing his way down your abdomen. He sets on his knees on the floor, peering up at you.

“Y/N, you sure you wanna do this?”

You nod quickly, suddenly very aware of the heat pooling between your legs.

“I need you to use your words.”

“Yes, please,” you respond.

“Good girl,” he says, lips quirking upwards into the slightest smirk before his fingers hook the waistband of your pants. He easily tugs them down with your panties and you gently kick them off your legs. “Holy fuck.”

The way he eyes your glistening cunt has you blushing and suddenly very aware of your surroundings. Before you can even tell him to stop staring, he leans forward to lick a hot stripe between your slit. A loud gasp echoes around the room as you feel your body instantly react, lifting you head to watch as he leans forward again to bury his face between your legs.

His arms reach under and around your legs, allowing his fingers to hold your lower lips open to reveal your most sensitive bundle of nerves. He gives it a hard suck after flicking it with his tongue and your hand shoots to fist his hair. He groans lowly, allowing the vibrations to further stimulate you.

He dips down a little lower so he can properly taste you, humming in satisfaction with how wet you are. He brings one hand back down and around before pushing a thick finger inside. You let out a loud gasp at the sudden intrusion, though you aren’t complaining. He slowly thrusts it in and out, keeping his eyes on your face to see what you do and don’t like. When he finds that one particular spot within you, he inserts another finger and does his best to hit it again. As your back arches and eyes roll to the back of your head, Iwaizumi can’t help but smirk a little, satisfied with himself.

“Fuck, H-Hajime, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper as he continues his relentless ministrations. Before you know it, your back is arching and toes curling as you finally hit your release.

He lets you ride out the rest of his orgasm on his tongue, relishing in the way your hips buck from the sensitivity. He pulls out his fingers, admiring the way they glisten before pulling away from you completely. You lock eyes with him as he licks his fingers clean and another whimper leaves your lips.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asks as he moves to hover over you on the bed.

“More than okay,” you say, unable to resist the dopey smile on your face. Iwaizumi chuckles softly as he combs his dry fingers through your hair. As he does so, you realize that you’re completely naked while he’s fully clothed. With a frown, you sit up and look at him.

“What’s wrong?”

“You still have your clothes on,” you say, turning and climbing over him so you’re straddling his lap. He sits up with a small smile.

“We don’t have to go any further, Y/N,” he says, putting his hands on your hips.

“I want to,” you say as you grind your hips against him much like you had the first night you shared a kiss.

He can see how dark and clouded with lust your eyes are and the raging hard-on in his pants would never forgive him for turning you down.

“Okay,” he says simply. You flash a smile before tugging at the hem of his shirt. He easily pulls it over his head in one fluid motion and you can’t help but lick your lips as he gives you a full view of his toned chest and abdomen. “Like what you see?”

You can feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment, not missing the arrogant grin on Iwaizumi’s face. You don’t say anything as you loosen the drawstring of his sweats and he helps pull them down. His cock practically springs out and slaps against his hard stomach and you all but drool at the sight. The angry tip is leaking with precum and you want to get a taste, but Iwaizumi stops you by pressing his lips to yours to capture you in a hungry kiss. You kiss him back and let his tongue push through your lips and you can taste hints of yourself still lingering on his tongue.

“‘M wanna taste you,” you mutter against his lips.

“Next time, baby.” You want to say something back, but his sturdy hands are lifting you by your waist so you’re sitting up on your knees over his lap.

Before you can say anything else, he’s reaching for his weeping cock and positioning it between your legs. You can’t help but whimper softly as you take it upon yourself to lower your hips on him. He feels so big, so thick, and you feel so full despite him not being entirely sheathed within you.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he hisses as he keeps his gaze fixed where your bodies meet. Something about the way he’s disappearing inside of your warmth leaves him a little lightheaded.

“Mm, you’re so big,” you gasp as you finally seat yourself fully on top of him. Iwaizumi feels his chest and ego swell with pride as he looks back up at you. He admires the way your lips are parted, eyes glazed over with pleasure.

He doesn’t rush you as you adjust to the sheer size of him, kissing along your neck and shoulder until you’re ready to move. When you are, you slowly drag your hips up until he’s nearly out of you completely before you drop back down. A loud moan leaves both of your lips and you have to brace yourself on his shoulders as you repeat the process, eventually finding a steady rhythm to follow.

A string of curses mixed with praise leaves his lips as you bury your face into the crook of his neck and shoulder, letting his hands roam and squeeze your ass. As you roll your hips in circular motions, another loud moan leaves him before he holds you and flips you over so you’re on your back.

“Fuck, I almost came too early,” he practically growls, placing a kiss to the corner of your mouth before sitting up.

You let out a soft giggle until he grabs one of your legs, tossing it over his shoulder. This new angle has him hitting a different spot inside of you and you feel your walls clench around him as he drags himself back out only to thrust right back in.

“Shit,” he hisses as he feels you flutter around him. “You look so pretty like this, fucked out on my cock.”

His thrusts are deep and precise as one hand presses against your lower abdomen while the other holds your leg. He presses a kiss to your ankle as you practically chant his name, feeling close to another orgasm. He seems to notice this too, losing some of his rhythm as the hand on your abdomen moves lower to rub harsh circles against your clit.

Just like that, it feels like the tightly wound coil in your belly snaps and your back arches off the bed as you reach your climax. Iwaizumi’s not far behind, pulling out and roughly jerking his throbbing cock until thick white ropes of cum decorate your chest and stomach.

The room fills with sounds of both of you breathing heavily and Iwaizumi flops onto his back next to you.

“Wow,” he says breathlessly, turning his head to look at you.

“Wow,” you parrot back, unable to resist the smile pulling at your lips. He tiredly smiles back for a moment before his eyes flit towards the mess he’s made all over you.

“Sorry for the mess.”

“It’s fine,” you tiredly shake your head. With the roller coaster you’ve been on these past several days and the physical exertion, you feel the exhaustion finally hitting you.

Your eyelids feel heavy and you barely see Iwaizumi get up from the bed and disappear for a moment. The sound of clothes shuffling and the sink running tells you that he’s cleaning up and in a few more moments, you feel a warm and damp towel wiping your body. You hum softly at the pleasant feeling, still riding the tail end of your orgasm as you open your eyes to see him wiping you of your sweat and his cum.

“I don’t regret anything,” you say as you feel Iwaizumi pull away.

“We can talk more in the morning,” he says softly as he places a kiss to the top of your head. You sleepily watch him as he disappears again and hear him running a bath.

He returns shortly after and easily scoops you up in his strong arms. You cling to him and let him slowly lower you into the warm water. He gestures for you to scoot forward a little bit so that he can slide in behind you, filling up the small space even more.

As you lean back and let him press soft kisses along your neck, your phone lays discarded on the floor, buzzing with another call from your now ex-boyfriend. That’ll just have to go on the list of things to figure out in the morning.

[emerald-chaos]

Hi hi I hope your work shift goes well!! If you wanted to maybe write something really fluffy with soft!bucky or something maybe like a comfort thing? I’ve been down bad for bucky lately and also down bad emotionally because life is a lot haha. No worries if you don’t wanna write about sad stuff/get too many other requests!! Tysm, friend!! Also wow that was vague sorry hahaha

Hi nonnie! I love fluffy, soft!bucky more than anything. I’m very sorry to hear that you are having a hard time with life right now. I hope more than anything that things get better for you soon. In order to help bring some light to you, I offer you this soft Bucky drabble ❤️.

As the work day came to an end, you slumped into the drivers seat of your car. A heavy sigh fell from your lips as you rubbed your face, hoping to somehow wipe away the stress from the day.

From waking up late, to being told you got a verbal warning about an “incident” that occurred over a month ago, to finding out that your period decided to come two weeks early - this day could seriously suck a dick.

After giving yourself a moment to collect your thoughts you pulled your phone out of your pocket. A message notification sat unread.

Buck 🦾: What about that Thai place you keep talking about?

You started typing a reply only to erase it. The curser blinked steadily on the screen as you tried to find the right words. The dinner plans you had made with your boyfriend sounded more like a chore right now than an enjoyable night. You hated to cancel, but your battery felt incredibly drained from the day you had.

I hate to be a buzzkill, but could we reschedule? Today’s been pretty shitty and I think I just want to go home and sleep. I’m sorry 😢.

The bubble that indicated he was typing popped up briefly before disappearing. A feeling of guilt crept over you, but you didn’t want to ruin the night by being short or because of a bad attitude, so you truly believed this was a far better solution.

You scrolled through your Spotify until you found your good ole, reliable sad hours playlist. The soft sounds of Lord Huron began playing in your car as you slipped your phone into the cup holder and began your commute home.

The drive home took a little bit longer than normal due to some construction, but overall it was a nice time to try and start your de-stressing process. Once you pulled up to your apartment building, you grabbed your things and made your way to your door.

As you reached the top of the steps you noticed a bouquet of flowers waiting for you on your doormat. A smile spread across your face as you bent over and picked up the flowers, burying your face into them to inhale their sweet scent. Scanning them for a card, you found the white paper tucked in between the stems.

I’m sorry you had a bad day. I hope you enjoy this all inclusive invitation to the “spa”. - B

You couldn’t help but laugh at your boyfriend’s attempt to make you feel better. What the hell did he mean by “spa”?

You shook your head, placing your key into the lock and pushing the door open. Standing there before you was Bucky, a champagne flute in his hand and a plate of fruit in the other. You blinked slowly at first, trying to allow your brain a moment to process what was going on, and then you erupted into laughter.

Bucky grinned as he watched you double over. You had no idea that this was what would come from giving him your spare key.

“Bucky, what are you doing?!” You managed to get out between laughs.

“I don’t think spoiling my girl after she’s had a rough day is a laughing matter, doll.” Bucky teased.

The smile from earlier had now grown into a full blown, ear-to-ear grin. Bucky was one of the most thoughtful people in the world. You couldn’t believe he had down all this in a matter of an hour after hearing from you. You placed the flowers and your bag on the kitchen counter before walking up to him and taking the glass from his fingers.

“Would the lady like a strawberry?” He asked, presenting you with the tray of fruit.

“The lady would.” You giggled, grabbing one and popping it between your lips.

Bucky placed the fruit platter on the counter before disappearing down the hallway. You looked after him quizzically before setting down your glass and following after him.

As you entered the bedroom you noticed how the room was only illuminated by the candles he had lit. Soft music was playing in the background and Bucky was grabbing a robe off the back of the chair. You crossed your arms over your chest and began to feel a lump form in your throat. When Bucky turned back he noticed you were standing there. He gave you a small smile before stood before you with the robe.

“I’ve got things planned out. You enjoy a nice bath, you put this on, and I feed you on the couch while we watch your favorite movie.” He spoke softly, reaching out to brush a piece of hair from your face.

You swallowed hard, trying not to allow the lump to become a full blown sob fest. Bucky cupped your cheek slightly before he continued to speak.

“If you want me to leave, I will. I just thought that you deserved to be taken care of after having such a bad day. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. Hell, we don’t even have to talk at all. I just wanna know that you’re okay.”

You threw yourself into his chest and wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him tight against you. There were no words to express how grateful you were for him. Bucky was selfless and there were few things he loved in this world more than you. The fact that he would go to such lengths to make sure you were in a good place made your heart swell like the Grinch.

“I love you.” You mumbled into his neck, taking in the intoxicating scent of his cologne.

“I love you too, Doll.” Bucky whispered back, turning to place a kiss on your head. “Now let me help you into the bath. If you’re lucky, I might even help you lotion up afterwards.”

Maybe a night at the “spa” didn’t sound so bad after all, especially if Bucky was going to be your masseur.

[pseudospectre]

A Ghost Story

It was even better in person.

Walking up the cracked old sidewalk, the little white farmhouse I was here to see came into view, and I had never wanted anything so badly in my life. The realtor was waiting for me on the tiny sagging porch trying to look perky. "Hi! I'm Rhonda, are you ready to take a look around?"

I shook her offered hand and nodded. "Absolutely. Do you know anything about it? There wasn't much in the listing."

She unlocked the door and led us inside the dark front hall, fumbling for a light switch. Her voice remained chipper as she launched into her presentation. "Well! It was originally built in 1898, and you can see that most of the original features remain. All the woodwork, flooring, window trim...it's really got a lot of charm! And it's nice and small, perfect for someone just starting! The furnace, electrical, and roof were all upgraded by the last owner..." I stopped listening, happy to just wander through the few rooms and admire the old building. It really seemed to be in very good shape for being so far outside of town, and it wasn't much bigger than many apartments I'd looked at closer to work; but crucially, this little place would be cheaper than anywhere I could rent, and it would be mine. The farm town it was in wasn't close to much, but the highway was near enough that the commute would be reasonable.

"Wow..it really does sound great. I can't see much wrong with it though, for the price...it's not haunted or something, is it?" I joked. But to my surprise, her sales pitch demeanor instantly fell, and she just looked tired.

"Who told you."

"What, really?" I laughed, thinking maybe she was joking. Surely the one trying to make a sale like this wouldn't seriously tell someone there's ghosts. But she sighed.

"I was hoping it wouldn't come up, but that's why it's being sold again. The last several owners have all moved out within two years, and I've been told hearing noises and footsteps at all hours is a main reason. Apparently a little boy died here in the late thirties, just an accident, I think he fell out of a tree? The parents ended up splitting and the father lived here until his own death in the 80s, it sat vacant for a while before finally selling, and from then on it's gone through several hands and periods of vacancy. I personally find it ridiculous, but perhaps you will finally be the first sane person to want it. It is, in my opinion, in very good shape for its age and history, and for the price...?" She looked at me, hopeful.

"So what you're telling me is, it comes with a roommate that won't even help with utilities?" I tried to look serious but couldn't keep it up, and laughed again. "You hear that, kid? If you're sticking around, there's gonna be some rules around here." I grinned at the realtor. "I really do love the place. What do I need to do to put in an offer?" Rhonda smiled, and started pulling out paperwork.

------------------

Closing took longer than I expected, but soon enough I had a handful of shiny old keys and a little white haunted farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. My family told me I was crazy to move "all the way out to hicksville," but move I did, until the place finally started to look like a home. And as I moved things in, and cleaned, and painted, I would talk to the supposed ghost, mostly for fun. When the house settled at night, I'd sternly inform him it was after curfew, or that he's making me miss my beauty sleep. All in all, though, I rarely heard anything that I couldn't immediately attribute to the quirks of an old house. Every now and then, I'd hear rattling or scraping, but old country houses have mice, it's almost impossible to avoid. I did have a pest guy come look just in case, but if scratching and tapping was the worst my ghost could do, I could live with it and be happy.

I couldn't understand how the procession of previous owners hadn't been able to feel how comfortable and welcoming the place was; I could sit on the porch looking down the narrow asphalt road, listening to the birds and the wind and the droning insects with a patch of woods to one side and endless fields spilling out to the horizon on the other. And even as the seasons started to change, the house, with its well pump that liked to short out now and then and the somewhat uncertain electricity, was beautiful to me. Me and my ghost and my little haunted house.

A sudden late summer storm on evening put some of those feelings to the test-the power had gone out twice so far, and the cellar was prone to take on water when it rained hard enough, which it was definitely doing. I had found some old white candles wrapped in what was probably forty year old newspaper stuffed in a kitchen drawer I had somehow never opened til now. It was getting dark, and it turns out I don't own a flashlight. My cell phone would only go so far if the lights went out again...and then of course, they did.

And the noises started.

At first, I barely noticed over the rain and wind literally rattling the windows. But soon enough, it was definitely distinct from the storm sounds. "Hey, buddy, everything ok? Are you afraid of storms?" By now I was pretty solidly in the habit of talking to my ghost; it even helped with my own anxiety. "You don't have to be scared, come sit in the room with me, we'll wait for it to finish together." I lit one of the emergency candles in the living room, just to have another source of light. The dragging and thumping sounds were even louder now, with strange, shrill noises added. I can't explain why they were making me afraid; I love storms usually, but something about this one, alone in the dark and with something unknown here with me, making noises, was activating my fight-or-flight response.

And then lightning flashed through the window along with the gunshot sound of thunder directly overhead, and I screamed. And then I broke down laughing after seeing the tree branches thrashing the side of the house in the lightning flash. The noises were just from the tree. How stupid, stupid that I'd never thought of that! With that realization, my anxious mood broke. "Come on, kid, let's go to bed, huh? You're not allowed to tell anyone how dumb I am though, ok?" I made a mental note to get any fallen branches cleaned up from the yard in the morning, and went to bed.

The next morning, standing on the porch to check out the aftermath, it occurred to me why I hadn't thought of the tree as I stared at the old, rotten stump of an oak tree outside the front window-cut down decades ago.