#i really like how this turned out now that a few days have passed (i recorded this last week. work and life is chaotic rn)

[ping-ski]

i got a few asks on what my process looks like, how i do a specific thing, brushes/program etc... so um take this speedpaint for now bcuz i dont have much free time for a proper explanation rn (sorry for the quality ack)

elapsed time: 7 hr 18 mins (between work + audhd lol)

[plotsignificanthaircut555]

Bottled Up (Satoru Gojo x Reader)

MDNI SMUT 18+ CONTENT

Gojo can’t cum. Too much on his mind, not enough time to himself, not enough chances to indulge. It’s becoming a matter of personal hygiene. He can't go on like this. He needs help. Your help.

Ao3 Masterlist.

WC: 7.4k Warnings: casual sex, raw sex, penetrative sex, kissing, kissing SLOPPY, oral m!receiving, discussion of anal but not present really, improper use of cursed energy, doggy, begging, crying, desperate whiny Gojo, brief mention on former satosugu,

------ Wow can you guys even believe? I actually wrote something about Gojo!! Tbh writing about/for him intimidates the fuck out of me but i have some longer form ideas about him so this was a good exercise. I hope y’all like it. -Doodle

Satoru can’t cum. He’s broken. His balls dried up. His dick died. His cursed energy overloaded and rendered him impotent. Limitless misfired and clogged him completely. It was the only way to explain why he hadn’t cum in two months.

He used to be able to cum. Fuck, he used to cum too easy. Ten years ago he would jerk off before hooking up so he didn’t cum too fast. He was so fucking sensitive, every touch or graze could send him shivering. Now he would have given anything for his days as a quick draw. That life was over.

Do people have cum caps? Like a finite amount of times they can orgasm and an excess of masturbation and experimentation in his youth had burned through his chances. He wants to believe that if he had known how wasteful he was, he would have acted differently, but it was a lie. He was too instinctual, everything in his nature, his upbringing, had taught him to trust his instincts above all else. They kept him alive, kept him going, kept him satisfied. But now, a vital piece of the puzzle was missing.

It was the sixty-sixth day in a row. He got home around eleven pm, an earlier night than most. His apartment, with its spotless, professionally tended, interior that betrayed the depraved chaos burning inside of him. Dropping his keys and shoes at the door he groaned into the silence at the way his work pants shifted against his throbbing erection trucked down his left leg. This was the part that was growing painful. The sensitivity. It started just around his pelvis, any brush of fabric or misjudged distance between himself and curses, near his hips would send a shaking beat of pleasure up his spine. But it spread, and spread. Even the car seat against his back was starting to turn him on. Last week Principle Yaga touched the back of his neck by mistake and his eyes rolled back. His black blindfold was working finding more work by the day. He started leaving limitless up constantly, well, more constantly. Only dropping completely after he had crossed the threshold of his home. Anything else was too risky.

Today had been rough, he woke up aching between his legs, the coldest shower he could stand helped to bring it down, but not for long. On the way to work he had to cross and re-cross his legs, a difficult feat at his height, over and over until he got to the school. Because of his existence in the good graces of the universe, there were no classes, only a brutally endless string of meetings. Not good, but at least…seated. By the time the final meeting was dismissed he thought he could bite through a cement support beam. On the way out, one of the higher ups patted him on the back, limitless blocking it from making contact, but he found a tantalizing urge to let it pass through, just for the contact.

He was fucking ruined.

Passing through the mainroom, up the staircase to the bedroom, he pulled his blindfold from his eyes, blinking a few times, snowy eyelashes relaxing from their position pressed against his eyelids. Finally in his bedroom, he pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor, already breathing hot and deep. He passed his bed into the ensuite bathroom, clicking the light and taking in his own reflection.

Fuck, he looked rough.

Skin sallow. Muscles strained and tense. Still handsome, of course, but drained. Like he had been wrung out.

And alone.

Satoru clicked the light off. He couldn’t go there.

He walked himself over to the bed, lithe hands finding his belt and unfastening it, slipping his pants down his legs. A relieved sigh left his mouth as the tight garment was removed. He sat on the edge of his bed, palming his desperate erection. He was shivering, the stimuli so overwhelming already. He wasn’t hopeful, but he was too desperate to stop. Keening back onto the bed, he let his eyes close. He didn’t want to see, the only sensation he wanted was to feel himself, touching himself, bringing him to the peak that felt so insurmountable. He was diamond hard now, finally he pulled himself free of the confines of his briefs. Taking his length into his hand, circling his palm over his barren tip.

He couldn’t even precum anymore.

He groaned in frustration, scooting back further on the cushy mattress, his briefs joining his discarded pants on the floor. He spit onto his hand, coating his dick from base to head, easing his strokes. He let his head fall back against the pillows, dredging up memories of past lovers to try and aid his efforts. He wasn’t really a porn guy, not above it, certainly. But it was overstimulating, bright lights, too colorful, just overwhelming to his already heightened senses. He preferred to rely on his own mind, he was in total control there. Or at least he used to be. His mind was too full of other bullshit to wander into the salacious. Work, always work. Lesson plans, missions, reports, meetings.

Fuck.

He reset, turning over onto his knees, moving one of his silken pillows under him, opting to rut against the soft cushion. One hand underneath pressing it against his length. His head hanging heavy under his shoulders, sweat dripping down the slope of his nose. The cold silk pillowcase against his cock, making his sweating body erupt into goosebumps. He slid his hips, gasping out shuddering breaths. It felt so good, so cold and soft against his begging erection. The muscles in his back rippled, swelling and beckoning under his frosty, even skin. The light of his bedroom cast gorgeous shadows on his back and hips, bringing out his excellent physique. The shadow of his spine, the lat muscles under large, perfectly worked arms, almost appearing as angel wings in the low, soft glow.

He brought his thoughts to long shapely legs, thighs shaking under his touch. Lips, wet and swollen, against his own. This was working, his breath was starting to catch in time with his hips against the pillow. He let his mind continue to wander and increased his speed. Glute muscles flexing hard as images of bodies he once held, some with features he knew well, some less familiar but still worth remembering. Some too familiar, silky, long black hair falling into his mouth. Dark violet eyes, full, strong arms.

No. Not that. He couldn’t go there either. There was nothing left for him anymore.

It killed his momentum. Still aching below but too stormy on top. Stilling his hips, slouching over the mattress. He took a few deep breaths, trying to take in the room around him in pieces, grounding himself in the present. In reality.

He wiped his wet hand over his face then on the sheets below him, gripping hard. This was getting ridiculous. He felt pathetic. Tears burned behind his blessed eyes. He felt broken. He felt shame bubbling behind his navel. He couldn’t live like this. He needed to cum. He needed to release all of this build up and get himself right.

Satoru pulled his phone from the discarded pants and tapped it a few times. Until he found just what he was looking for.

Your phone screen illuminated your dark bedroom. Your humidifier was on, your lights had been long turned out. You had just fallen asleep after some restless tossing and turning. The screen lit up again, this time chiming out a text notification. That jarred you from the warm grip of dream and made your head spring up. You glanced at the screen, trying to read the too bright notification with sleep still coating your eyes. But before you could, it changed to the dimmer incoming call screen. It vibrated on the nightstand, suddenly too loud to ignore. You sighed, and retrieved it.

It was Gojo. He was calling you. You hadn’t seen him in months. fuck was that right? You thought back. You hadn’t seen him in…six months. The last time you left his gorgeous, perfectly styled, agonizingly well put together apartment, it hadn’t been on bad terms, by any metric, but it wasn’t like you were falling into each other's arms either. There hadn’t been any blow out or agreement not to see each other anymore, it just fizzled out. You were sure you had been disappointed when the calls and texts slowed to a trickle, but it wasn’t like you were dating or anything. You had hooked up a few times earlier in the year. No more than four times total. Okay, six times. Okay, nine times. Okay, you lost track somewhere in the second month. What really qualifies as hooking up these days, anyway? Just penetration or sexting? Oral? Hand stuff? Hand stuff in public? Other stuff in public? What should even qualify if you were keeping track -- which you weren’t! You answered the call.

“Do you know what time it is?” You sighed out, smiling through your feigned annoyance.

He purred on the other side of the line, “hmmmm, what are you wearing?”

“Pajamas, because it's almost one in the morning.” your voice was hoarse, sleep having laid your vocal cords to rest.

“Sounds hot.” You could hear his stupidly sexy smile, “You should come over. Can’t waste an outfit like that at home.”

You laugh, already planning how quickly you could pull yourself together, and whether or not the trains were still running, “You’re kidding me. I haven't heard from you in months. You call at an ungodly hour and expect me to come running over at the drop of a hat?”

“You don’t have to run, I’ll send a car.” He coos.

You laugh again, stretching in your bed, letting out a soft groan.

“mmmm, do that again.” His voice grew heavier, there was some suspicious sounding rustling on his end.

You stayed quiet, wanting to see if you would hear anything else and wanting to deny him.

“Now don’t be like that, baby.” He whines, he sounds pathetic “I need your help. It’s an emergency.”

You got out of your bed, still taking your sweet time, savoring his helplessness, “An emergency, huh? Nothing fatal I hope.”

His tongue clicks on the other side, “hmmm, it’s hard to say. Could be a fever, I’m feeling…hot.”

You hate that a line so corny is making you bite your lips to keep quiet. You slipped into a cuter, but still comfy lounge set, a bit more versatile than your pajamas “Sounds contagious, maybe it would be best if I stayed home…”

“Please!” His voice changed, cracking and almost panicked, “I need you, please.”

There was no version of this conversation that ended any other way, “Send the car.”

“Already outside.” You heard his face split into that gorgeous smile you couldn't resist, not even over the phone.

When you arrived at his front door, you didn't even have a chance to knock before he swung the door open. And fuck he looked good. Bad, but good? Not bad, just…disheveled. He hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on, inhumanly muscled torso glowy and flushed, his hair matted and unkempt, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips. The long, angled white scar healed from an injury long past going from his shoulder to his opposite hip. You traced the line with your eyes, recalling the first time you had seen it, how he had moved your fingers over it, getting you used to the feeling of it under your touch, assuring you that it was long healed and nothing to fuss over. Every inch of him was perfect, despite his pain, his history. You couldn’t resist the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world. Your ogling did not go unnoticed, looking up to his face you saw the smile you had heard so much of recently.

“Miss me?” He opened the door wider, allowing you to enter, ducking under his arm.

“Yeah.” You admitted rolling your eyes and stepping inside, leaving your shoes at the door.

You took in the sleek, cavernous town house around you. His decor hadn’t changed at all, a lovely front room, a staircase along one windowed wall, leading up to his bedroom. If you were to press further into the main floor, peeling back shoji screens you would find more bedrooms, frozen in time just as they were last left by their former inhabitants, his office, barely ever touched, a gorgeous bathroom complete with a personal sauna. For someone who spent nearly no time at home, he really did have the house dreams are made of.

“I can get you something to drink if you want.” He offers, shutting and locking the door.

“That’s okay. You sounded pretty desperate on the phone, I’d hate to keep you waiting.

He wasn’t totally ready for this part. Having to explain what was going on with him. He shifted a bit, he wanted you so bad. He needed it. He needed every part of you right now, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“Come on Gojo, you got me out here. Don’t get shy on me now. What’s the big emergency?” You set your bag down on his expansive kitchen island, not subtly eyeing the absolutely incomprehensible bulge tenting the front of his sweats.

“It’s been so long, why the rush, Sugar?” He plays coy, approaching you with a suave gait, moving past you to the refrigerator, “Sparkling water? Still? I can go down to the cellar if you want something stronger?”

“Gojo…” You raise your eyebrows.

“I have tea or coffee if you prefer. Some sodas, you like diet right?”

“Gojo come on---”

“You know i'm not great in the kitchen but if you’re hungry I could---”

“Satoru!” You cut him off, finally pulling his attention from the icebox, “What’s up with you?”

His white eyebrows knit together in the center, making his eyes droop pitfully, “I can’t cum.”

You can barely hear his confession, and you must have heard him wrong so in earnest you ask, “What?”

“I can’t cum. For weeks, nothing. I try and I try and just…nothing.” He blurts, simultaneously relieved and mortified.

You know you shouldn't stare, that you should say something, but you’re dumbfounded. There was once a time, not too long ago even, where he had you bent over this exact counter pushing through his own leaking orgasm to bring you to tears. And that had been the third round that night. You always thought he was the untouchable man, a paragon of self control and pushed limits. To think of him unable to even pleasuring himself, it felt impossible.

“You can’t cum?” You say dumbly.

“Well now that you have repeated it, I think I must be cured, you can go now.” He rolled his eyes, leaning his shoulder against the fridge, fighting the hiss that bubbles in his throat from its chilling surface against his heated skin.

“I’m sorry!” You put your hands up like you had been caught, “It's just a little hard to believe! I never expected you to….struggle…in this…area.”

Gojo’s eyebrows flew up, every word you said made it worse. You could feel it but you couldn’t stop yourself. You were apparently determined to put every foot possible in your big stupid mouth.

“I just mean because you’re usually so good! How could this happen, are you sick? I don’t know why I would even ask that! Obviously you’re not sick, you're just….having some…dysfunction.”

“Why would you say dysfunction?” He stared at you, ego bruised but still amused at how poorly you were handling this.

“I didn’t mean like that! I Just---”

“Any other word. Any word in the world you could have said, and you go with dysfunction.” He chuckles, his own embarrassment now vacated completely in wake of how flagrantly you had just shit the bed.

“That was super dumb, and I’m really sorry. I have no idea what to say.” You just gave up on the second half of the sentence, knowing nothing you were saying was going to help.

“I don't have erectile dysfunction, the erection is not the problem,” He doesn’t have to gesture below his waist, the subject of conversation stands perfectly at attention, pushing against the flimsy fabric, “It won't go away, I’m stuck like this, and I can’t think about anything else, and I can’t get anything done. I need your help, you have to help me get rid of it.”

Your chest warmed a bit, a sly canary eating smile crossed your face, “So you called me, huh?”

“Yes I called you.” He sighs.

“Out of everyone you could have booty called to help your infinite boner, you call little old me? Gojo, I'm touched!” You sound like you're accepting a Nobel prize.

He rolls his eyes, “I knew you were going to be annoying about this.”

You took a seat at one of the bar stools at the counter, resting your head flirtatiously on your perched hands, “So like when you were choosing who to call, what made you pick me…am I just that good?”

You were, fuck you really were. He had thought about you so many times, Your perfect body, your pretty eyes, your soft hair, your legs around his hips, your fucking mouth. It had been too long over all, but it had been far too long since he had been with you. He called you because he knew you were great, and because he trusted you. He could be honest with you without judgement, your current reaction notwithstanding. He knew that he could count on you to be discreet and up front. There weren’t any guessing games when you were together, he didn’t have to guess or grasp for clues at how you were feeling. He knew you.

“That’s right.” He nodded, willing to let you have this.

You let out a teasing school yard oooooooooooooh. Batting your eyelashes and grinning widely, feeling like the absolute queen of the universe.

But he was growing impatient, “You gonna help me out, or what?”

“Sounds like I have quite the reputation to protect, how long has it been exactly?” You eyed him up and down.

“Still about twenty centimeters. Give or take.” He answers, “Oh! You mean--two months.”

“Months? Two MONTHS?” You gawked and then caught yourself, “I’m sorry I know that doesn’t help…I just can’t believe you’re upright. How are you not hospitalized?”

“If this conversation takes much longer I may have to be.” He crosses the room to you, leaning over where you are seated on the counter, putting his arm around you to grip the back of your chair.

You lean back, taking in a breath as he leans closer. Fuck, he’s so handsome. Perfect pearly skin, hair soft and fluffy, those fucking eyes holding you still under their gaze.

“Come on, Sugar, help a guy out. We’re friends right? Friends help each other.” His breath is sweet against your face.

You feel hypnotized, looking between his eyes and lips in a dizzying circle. His cocky demeanor you were so used to was crackling, you could see beads of sweat that had formed on his brow, his tongue wet and heavy kept his lips parted, drawing you closer. He smelled like him, warm and clean, the whole place smelled like him. You were completely in his arena, but you still had all the power. The Strongest asking you for help, begging even, you felt high. You tilted your head up, close to his face, catching his eyes,

“What are friends for?” You closed the distance between you, locking your lips together.

He is quick to pull you closer, making your breasts press hard against his chest, drawing a moan from both of you. His tongue slips past your lips, and maps the interior of your mouth quickly. Reacquainting himself with your taste. Even just a kiss, a real kiss, made his body shudder. His left hand holds your face, his long fingers splayed over your cheek, from your neck up to you temple, his right hand held the back of your neck, keeping you firm in place against him. You are far handsier than him in this moment. You can’t stop yourself, you missed his body, his kiss, him. Feeling his toned stomach, around his hips to his back, digging your nails in just enough to see if he gasps. He does not. Far too focused on the sloppy, dripping kiss he waited so patiently for. He’s leaning over you, pushing you further and further back, making you dangerously close to falling off the stool below you. But of course, his hand grabs your back, holding you still, right where we wanted you. Just past the point where you would have to engage your abs, but not far enough for you to want to hold yourself up. Muscles right on the precious of passive ability and focused contraction, forcing to to rely on his hold, trusting him completely, and he could feel you would relax into his palm, melting into his touch.

“Fuck, Gojo. You really are desperate.” You giggled as his kissed moved down to your jaw and neck.

He moaned against your skin as your nails clawed at his lower back, nodding his head passively, running his tongue over your pulse point.

“You’re so pretty.” He hooks your leg over his hip, pressing the problem child erection right against yours clothed cunt, drawing a shaky gasp from you.

“Not here.” He pulls himself away. “Upstairs…do this right…let’s”

He’s not finishing any of his sentences, you almost worry if whatever problem that resides in his cock could be spreading to his brain. But maybe it was contagious because you can’t bring yourself to care. Holding your hand a bit too tight, he pulls you forward and up the staircase to his bedroom. He doesn’t bother shutting the door, no one else has lived here in a long time. The house is quiet, bar from the panting breaths that drip from both of you, the rustle of clothes, and the reconnection of hot, desperate skin. You kiss him again, pushing him back toward the bed. He allows you to push him onto the mattress, disconnecting your lips.

“So?” You flirt, standing naked before him, letting him see all of you, “how do you wanna fix this?”

He has shed his sweatpants in the shuffle, propped up on his elbow, the other hand giving himself long, slow strokes.

“I’ve been dreaming about that mouth, baby.” He chews on the interior of his bottom lip, “show me if you’re as good as I remember.”

He spreads his legs, allowing you a good long look at how hard he really has become. Angry, pink tip swollen, veins along the shaft straining against the skin. The lower ab muscles are so strained you think they might pop. You had almost forgotten how fucking big he is. Everything about him was too big. His broad, strong body, his long spindly legs, built, strong arms hanging below his hips, those big hands with their knuckly fingers, his long, thick cock and the ego that accompanied. Seeing all of him, how big he was, made a shock run up and down your spine.

How the fuck had you fit this thing inside of you before?

“Oh, don’t be shy now,” he echos your earlier words, “you can take it.”

Not to be out foxed, you steel yourself and sink to your knees in between his spread legs. He stops stroking himself, leaning against both elbows now, waiting with held breath for you to begin.

Your put your hands on his knees, massaging them down and up, feeling the taut muscles of his thighs, the soft hairs under your hands.

“You think about me a lot?” You kissed the side of his left knee.

“Mhm.” His head hung backs exposing his delicious, wiry throat.

His adam’s apple bobbed as he gasped, you ran your nails down his legs, making his hips jerk upward.

“Don’t tease baby, it’s bad enough already!” He begged.

Fuck he sounded good like that. No one could swing the pendulum of pathetic and cocky quite like Satoru Gojo.

“Two months huh?” You carried on, giving open mouthed kisses up his thigh between thoughts, “you must be sooooo sensitive. Poor baby.”

He nods, his eyes squeezed right, trying to focus on every sensation you’re giving him.

Finally you reach the divot between his hip and the base of his pelvis, the internal hinge of his thigh. You ran your tongue along the muscle, tasting the salt of his body. His hips jerk again.

“Please!” He cries out, the lamp at his bedside flicker off and on again.

“Careful Satoru.” You warned, “all you had to do was ask.”

You swirl your tongue around the swollen, aching tip of his dick. Looping around the underside of the head and sliding your mouth down further.

Satoru was in heaven, his eyes rolled back in his head, he fought to keep his hips still, he didn’t want to hurt you, but fuck he wanted more.

You slide your tongue along each beautiful vein, making a perfect map in your head of the topography of his penis. Pulling off and sinking back down again you could take him all the way to the base, coarse white hair ticking your nose as your relaxed your throat to accommodate him he fell back against the bed, one hand moving your hair off your forehead so he could see your pretty face. He didn’t know what he wanted to do more, relax into the pleasure and let it wash over him, or watch you take him further. He leaned up to watch, just as your peeked on eye open to see him falling apart. But the eye contact was too much for him to bear, he felt his cheeks erupt in a blush, and he fell backward again, using one arm to shield his eyes.

You tutted, running his cock along your lips as your spoke, giving it sloppy kisses to make the syllabals, “oh Satoru, look at me, baby. Doesn’t it feel good?”

He nods but doesn’t look up. He can’t bear it. Your weepy eyes filling with tears from the lack of breath, your lips swollen, encasing his cock head. Your hair pulled to one side, giving him a perfect view of your hollowed cheeks as you suck and pull at him. With your spit coating his cock, the sensitivity has doubled. Wet, schlucking sounds fill his bedroom, alongside your haughty moans. Or wait…that’s actually him moaning like that. He doesn’t even recognize himself, he’s panting, sweating, begging. He didn’t even realize he was talking but the praises have been spilling from him continuously:

Yes

Baby yes just like that

Fuck you’re so good

You’re so pretty

Fuck you’re doing so good

Feels so good

Baby

Fuck

Sugar

So pretty

So good

I can’t I

Please baby make me

Fuck you’re

Agh

Oh

Fu

Oh

Ah

O

I

All he can manage by the time he looks back at you are open vowel sounds. It’s feels fucking incredible, perfect, if this were three months ago he would have cum in an instant. This was the closest he had felt, but it still wasn’t enough. He had to be inside you. The hand keeping your hair back rounded your face, his thumb pushing against your lips.

“I need to fuck you.” He says breathlessly, “I won’t cum until I fuck you, please.”

You pull off of him, a little disappointed that you wouldn’t get to brag about your head game, but you push it aside and join him on the bed. Clingy as he is, he pulls you close, kissing you hard again. Your mouth is wet with saliva and pre cum. He didn’t have the time to be impressed at your skill bringing forth the pearly substance, he coveted so greatly. He was too focused on being as close as two people can be. You move to straddle his lap, but he shakes his head, breaking from your lips.

“Bend over.” His mouth is wet now, both of you wet from lips to chin.

You grin and climb off him, stacking a few pillows to give you something to rest on and presenting your hips to him. Satoru is getting his bearings back, he feels more in control now that he has moved onto his knees behind you. Desperate as he is he can’t resist brushing two feather light fingers down your spine, watching you arch as he drags them further and further down. Your spine snakes, your hips sway, his fingers find the cleft where your spine meets your ass, a perfectly little dimple, waiting for his hands to paw at, your breathy moan eggs him on, sliding further down, feeling your tight asshole clench from just the lightest of contact.

“You remember when you let me back here?” He circles it, reminiscing, “you were so tight. fuck, you felt so good baby.”

“Remember when you let me back there.” You tried to sound tough but your position bent over with your head buried in your hands made it difficult.

“Mmmmhm.” He felt his dick twitch again, remembering when you had fingered him open, sucking him in tandum, he swore he saw an angel that night.

And here you were again, having rushed over in the middle of the night just to help him, trembling under his fingertips. Maybe you really were an angel. His very own guardian angel. If anyone could bed a steward of the divine it would be him.

“I thought you needed my help.” You whined.

He giggles, leaning over you, close enough that his lips touch your ear, his heavy cock pressing against your slit,“Just making sure you’re as needy as I am.”

He runs his tongue over the shell of your ear, making you squeal. Of course he remembered all your sensitive spots. He returned to his knees behind you, spreading you open, marveling at the mess you had made. Dripping honey onto the bed, onto your thighs, on his hand. His mouth floods, the desire to bury his head between your legs quickly matching his desire to cum.

“Later.” You whimpered, having read his mind, “you need my help.”

He beams, “so selfless.”

Finally, after an hour of build up since your arrival, the agonizing time waiting for you to get here, and the two months of celibacy that had brought him here, he aligned himself at your drooling hole, your spit was still shining along his cock but he ran either side though your folds anyway, making sure he was wet enough. He had fucked enough and had a big dick for long enough that he knew taking it all required some specific anatomy or a lot of prep, usually both. And while you were familiar with him, and giving yourself so willingly to him, he didn’t actually want to hurt you.

“Satoru please just—-“

The rest of your sentence would never see the air of his bedroom. It’s conclusion stolen from you and replaced with a pathetic scream as he pushed inside. He had meant to ease in but as soon as he started he couldn’t stop himself, he bottomed out in his first thrust. A loud smack of your ass hitting his hips still resounded in the room as he pulled back and thrusted in again. Your back arched evilly, dangerously close to snapping your spine in half. Despite his tunnel vision, Satoru eased his hand up your back, effortlessly smoothing it and gripping your shoulder for more leverage.

“Yes! Oh fuck yes.” He grunted, thrusting in an evil pace.

You couldn’t even speak, he was so deep, you were willing to bet his made an impression agains the front of your stomach. On your pillow pedastule you sank further, and reached up one formerly supportive hand to grip his on your shoulder.

“Sa…sa…” you panted out, not even able to string his name together.

He moved to long, languid, but devastatingly deep thrusts, the hand on your shoulder holding the side of your neck now, “that’s it, sugar. Say my name. Say my name, baby, come on.”

You tried, you really fucking tried but the letters wouldn’t come, “S—Sa—-sss.”

Your eyes rolled back, crumbling completely into the silken pillowcases, not caring if your spit or tears ruined the fabric. He spanked you once hard, making your head shoot up.

“I said say it.” He grunted.

Cocky for a man who was nearly in tears over the phone because he couldn’t bust.

“Satoru!” You finally spilled, his cock pushing hard against your g spot, “Satoru! Satoru please! Be gentle!”

Now that your voice had found you again it was hard not to beg him for mercy.

“Please baby, please! Fuck that’s so good.” You babbled, bringing a sick smile to his face.

He fucked harder, deeper into you, reveling the way your walls fluttered around him. You were so tight he had initially worried he was going to split you in two. But you are his angel, he should have known better than to deny your divinity. Satoru could hear your moans increasing in pitch and becoming choppy. He reached around your hip, finding the perfect pearl between your lower lips and circling his middle finger around. The clench that followed sent you both keening. His fingers brought forth an orgasm you didn’t think was nearly as close. Your hips shaking, biting into the pillow to keep from screaming.

“No baby, let me hear you.‘I need it.” He panted, not stopping his fingers on your clit or his evil thrusts, seeming deeper and deeper every second.

You tried to lift your head but felt dizzy, your vision wasn’t right, your clit throbbed beautifully but made you aware of how fast your heart was. Gojo pulled out turning you on your back, reinserting himself with a kiss to your cheeks.

“Don’t pass out on me, okay? I need you baby, I need your help. Help me, please.” He thrusted slower, only moving a few inches at a time as your came down from the mind fuzzing orgasm.

You nodded, coming back to yourself, you pulled your legs over his hips, your hands moving down the curves of his body. He slower thrust gave you time to admire him. He really was so beautiful. Looking at the sun and having to look away beautiful. His skin was reddening from effort and arousal, splotchy flushes that still couldn’t take away his perfection. The divots on his shoulders, the smell of his sweat, the taste of his spit. Fucking him felt like being completely encompassed in perfection incarnate. And you couldn’t feel luckier to have the chance to be so. He opened his pleasure screwed up eyes, those glowing blue irises, that contained so much of what everyone thought he was, looking down at you with so much trust, so much vulnerability, your heart lurched into your throat.

“You okay?” Satoru scanned your face.

You nodded, pulling him in to kiss you again, feeling his soft hair under your fingers. You held on as he increased his thrusts again. Speed, depth, power, all of it ramped back up to fainting orgasm levels.

Satoru was on the verge of tears, he couldn’t do without again. He couldn’t not cum one more time. He wouldn’t make it. He would bury himself into any hole you offered him again and again and again until he was free from this. Reaching back and pulling your leg over his shoulder, he allowed himself even deeper into you. He watched your face scrunch up in pleasure, your mouth drop open to catch hot, stolen breath from him. He wanted to make it easier, slotting his lips against yours and kissing you deep, tasting your pleasure. He swooned, his heart felt so tight and full it could burst, he was so grateful for you. For your body, your generosity, your care for him that you made look so simple. He knew he wasn’t an easy person to care about, but it seemed to him like you had never considered it cumbersome. Kissing you he felt the tears long built up by restriction begin to fall, wetting his own cheeks as well as yours.

“Satoru are y—-?” You worried against his lips, your hand in his hair moving from. A harsh grip to a soothing pet.

He shook his head, although you were right, “it’s okay. Thank you. Just thank you.”

He kissed you again and carried on thrusting, long and deep. He found your other hand and took it in his own, interlocking your fingers. Hips hard and fast, the friction not enough, he needed to touch every inch of you with every inch of himself. Your pressed against his chest as you moved to match his thrusts, putting aside the emotions that had arisen and remembering your purpose for being here. He had to break away from the kiss, pushing his forhead against yours, gasping out as you synced your thrusts together.

Oh.

Like a dim lantern in a barren desert, a non phosphorescent illusory light in a cave, the shine of climax came into his view. Still holding your hand, one of your legs over his shoulder, bending your body into a bizzare position, he chased it with everything he could. Drilling himself into your drooly, puffy pussy, again and again, causing you to cry out.

“Baby almost, cum with me, please! Pleasepleaseplease.” He squeezed your hand a bit too hard, your fingers felt cramped.

Well, they would, if you could feel them. And your leg would likely feel strained, if you could feel your hamstring still. But you couldn’t feel anything except the white hot pleasure bursting inside of you everytime he pushed against your gspot. Not breaking away from his hand, your other shot between your legs circling your clit, making you tighten up around him. Satoru cried out, the devilish squeeze of your walls felt like the last barrier between him and total bliss.

“Please baby, please.” He can’t control his voice, he doesn’t care, nothing matters when he is this close, “yes, cum around me. I need it. Cum.”

Your eyes flutter back, your head pushes against the pillow, your body erupts into cooling, overwhelming bliss.

Finally, his torment turns, the ache in his stomach unraveling. He can’t believe it, it’s finally about to be over, he feels your body shake underneath him, your hand gripping his so tightly, your cries filling his bedroom. Just at the precipice Gojo, steals one last look at your pleasure struck face, and he falls.

The lights in his bedroom bloom, swell, and overload. Bulbs bursting as he pumps himself through the most earth shattering orgasm he has ever known. Line after line of thick, long stored cum spilling from him into your waiting cunt. The room is plunged into darkness, he buries his head in your neck, panting hard.

You smile as you feel him filing you, and continue filling you. He had always cum a lot, he joked that it was his lineage begging him for continuation. But this was, beyond. Load after load of hot, desperate cum. He pushed his hips closer to you, his body yearning to become fused to yours. To never separate again.

You move one careful hand up his back, feeling the cooling sweat at his neck, the soft hair at the nape. His breath slows against your skin, but he doesn’t yet push himself off of you, keeping his heavy frame collapsed on you. But you don’t dare complain, committing the heat of his body to memory. The moonlight from the window is now, thanks to his discharge of power, the only light in the room. Your eyes adjust slowly, his features glowing in soft blue-white light. The air in the room is thick and full of both of you. Had you an eternity to indulge yourself in this moment, it would still feel too intangible to recall. But you try anyway.

Once his eyes have stopped spinning in their sockets like some knock out cartoon, Satoru pushes himself off of you, staying inside, just hovering above your body. His misty blue eyes look over every inch of you in a second. Taking in everything about this moment, how your skin reflects the moonlight, your eyes heavy and half lidded with sleep and bliss, your soft smile waiting for him to say something. But he wasn’t ready yet, he pressed his lips to yours again, firm but not desperate. He’s kissed you lavishly and with no burning sense of time. It could be called lazy if it weren’t for the focused decadence behind his mouth. He finally separates, thin silks of spit still unbroken between you two.

You brought your unheld hand to his face, cupping his cheek, watching as his eyes flutter shut. You could see tears drying on his cheeks, overwhelm and gratitude thier origin. The moon brought them forward for your viewing, you swiped a thumb under one eye. They both open under your touch, filling with something unreadable. He let go of your hand, opting to mirror your hold on your face, using one long finger to brush away a hair gelled to your sticky forehead.

“Thank you.” He reiterates, the frantic gratitudes from before nullified into a sincerity that made you nervous despite the juxtoposition of his cock still inside of you.

“Anytime, Satoru.” You can feel your cheeks heat, but your bliss doesn’t waver.

He slid out of you slowly, careful not to jostle his tingling, overstimulated length.

You both are left panting once he has been removed completely. He moved onto his side next to you, on his back, breathing up into the dark ceiling. You realize that you had no way of knowing what time it was. The thoughts of work and responsibility tomorrow we’re beginning to gnaw at the edges of your mind. You should get home soon, leave him to his new sexual freedom. You’d imagine he would be ready to pass out if he wasn’t asleep already. The expulsion of cursed energy enough to knock out the lights, enough to send him comatose.

You should know better than to underestimate him. Gojo sits up, stretching his long arms in front of him, allowing the formerly clenched back muscles to reset. Leaning back against his hands he looks down to you.

“I gotta change the bulbs and reset the fuse box. You wanna stay here? Once I’m done we can go again.” That flirty smile quickly irresistible, “orrrr, if you help me I’ll be done ever faster and I can thank you properly.”

You rolled your eyes, giggling, “I’m still recovering from the last favor I did for you. Come get me when you’re done.”

You settle back into his bed, the luxe duvet the perfect cloud-like weight on your shoulders. The smell of him clinging to every stitch of his sheets.

He moved off the bed, slipping on his underwear and making quick work of changing the burst light bulbs. This wasn’t the first time a miscalculated charge had knocked out the electrical system of his house. He had a private grid, it wasn’t that elegant but between the solar panels on the outside and a small self sustaining aquaphir underneath, it was nearly entirely self sufficient. So it was simple enough to fix when it did happen. When he switched the fuse box, the electric hum returned. Back in his bedroom he found you sleeping, curled up in his bedding, snoring softly. He moves some hair off your shoulder, fingers gentle on your thin, soft skin. Bare except for the duvet pulled over your shoulders. He crouched next to you silently, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek. He was lucky to have you, someone who would help him so readily, so selflessly. Someone he could trust and confide in. It had been a long time since he could trust someone like this. Still standing over you, he watched as your stirred, sleepy eyes opening to take him in, squinting against the refreshed lighting.

“Coming back to bed?” Your sleep riddled voice charmed.

“Oh I’m not done with you yet.” He moved into bed beside you, taking your body in his arms once again, his lips fighting home under your jaw.

He really was insatiable.

YAY!!! I hope y'all enjoyed this one. It was fun to write and fell together really easily. I am a lot less intimidated by writing gojo now. But I would love to hear yall's feedback on how it came off!! PLEASE! again, i have a much longer, more structured idea for him that I am wanting to build up to eventually so i would really love to know what yall think. Doodle <3 <3

[crowsofdarkness]

Soulmates: One Shot

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Trope : Soulmates

Word Count: 6,945

Content Warnings: language, angst, mentions of death/murder, mention of drinking.

Summary: Growing up, reader had been told stories about how you would dream your soulmates memories, something you never believed in. That was until someone new moves in next door and nightmares plague you every night.

A soft sigh left my lips as I finally stepped foot into my apartment. After the long day of law school and a double bartender shift, I was beyond exhausted. I tossed my bags and keys on the kitchen table and fell onto the sofa with a loud groan. 

“Ugh, I wish someone was here to massage my feet,” I groaned to myself. 

With a quiet meow, my black cat named Salem, jumped up on my stomach and purred his demands for ear scratches. 

“As much as I love you Salem, I don’t think your paws are big enough to massage out the knots in my feet from today.” I smiled. 

After a meow of disappointment, he jumped off my lap and retreated to his chair in the corner of the living room. I let out a disgusting loud yawn as I made my way towards my kitchen, hoping I could find some form of leftovers that I could call dinner. 

“Nothing like cold pizza for the third night in a row,” I said while taking a large bite. 

The silence throughout my apartment was deafening. It was only Salem and I for the past six years and I wouldn’t change it for anything. 

A relationship wouldn’t actually be the worst thing in the world but between law school five days a week and shifts at the bar four days a week, I barely had enough time to go grocery shopping or clean my apartment. On my off days, I spent it either showering or sleeping for half of the day. 

My mother used to tell me of an old folk lore that her family used to believe while she was growing up. ‘Soulmate dreamers.’ She claimed that two people who are destined to be together dream of each other's memories; soulmates. My parents were soulmates but I still couldn’t believe the folk tale. Every single night I wouldn’t dream, just a blackness. It had been like that every night since I turned eighteen and as the years passed, I started to give up hope. 

“Buck, be careful with that. GOD DAMNIT!” 

Squinting my eyes at the sudden crash coming from the hallway, I ran over to my door and slowly opened it. Two men stood outside my door, both bent at the knees picking up a pile of books that seemed to have fallen out of a box. With the sound of my locks coming undone, the two men looked up and with a sheepish smile, the blonde nodded towards me. 

“I’m so sorry if we woke you.” His lips turned down in a small frown underneath his beard. 

I shook my head. “No, you didn’t. I just heard a crash and some yelling.” 

“Yeah butterfingers over here let the box slip,” the blonde nodded towards the other man. 

He had longer hair than the blonde and his beard was shorter than the blondes but something about his eyes froze me in place. Under his long sleeves, I could see his muscles tensed as he lifted up a large pile of books. 

“Uh-moving out?” I questioned after forcing myself to look away from the muscles. 

“In,” the blonde set down another box before extending his hand. “Steve.” 

My hand was small in his and the roughness of it scratched my palm. 

“Y/N.” 

I looked over to the other man but noticed that his back was towards me. He walked down the hall a few steps before stepping through an open door into the apartment right next to my own. 

“Buck’s not that great with new people,” Steve defended. 

My brows quirked up. “Buck?”

“Bucky or James. But I call him Buck,” Steve informed.

“Well, Steve, what brings you and Bucky here to Brooklyn?” I questioned while leaning against my open door frame. 

“Retirement.” 

“Aren't you guys a little young to retire?” I joked. 

He shrugged with a laugh. “We started our careers really young. Now we’re looking for something quiet.” 

“Well you guys are in luck because nothing happens here. It’s a pretty boring part of town.” I said. 

“Eh, doesn’t seem that bad. The neighbors are pretty cute,” Steve smirked. 

My cheeks blushed warm and after a quick nod, I pointed over my shoulder. “Goodnight Steve.”

Steve returned my smile. “Goodnight, Y/N.” 

My body felt trapped as if someone was sitting on my chest while my arms and legs thrashed around my bed. I tried to speak, to yell, but my voice was in a vice grip as the nightmare forced me to listen to the screams and cries of strangers. Flash images of a sniper and a man dressed in black faded in and out before completely fading to black. 

I awoke in bed with a scream and looked around my room. The fear that I felt from those strangers in my dream ate away at me, something I couldn't shake; no matter how hard I tried. My heart hammered against its cage in my chest as I took deep breaths to calm myself down.  

“What a freak nightmare,” I groaned while rubbing the sleep from my eyes. 

Falling back to sleep was a distant memory and I had to force myself out of bed as another fun day of school all day with a closing bar shift right after standing in front of me. 

“Salem, do you want breakfast?” I questioned my feline companion as I came out of the bathroom, dressed for the long day ahead of me. 

After a quick scratch to Salem's head, I grabbed my bags and was out the door, large coffee in hand. 

“Morning, Y/N.”

“FUCK!” I cursed, almost dropping the large cup and placing a hand over my chest. 

Steve stood in front of me, hands up in defense. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

I let out a small breath of relief. “Oh, Steve. It’s okay, it's not your fault. I didn’t sleep much last night so I’m a little jumpy.” 

“That would explain the extra large coffee,” Steve smiled. 

“I wouldn’t survive law school without it,” I admitted. 

Steve’s eyes raised. “Law school, huh?” 

“Yeah, I’m in my final year. I’ve got exams today and Monday so I need all the coffee I can consume.” I smiled proudly. 

“Well, I’ll let you get going. Have a good day, Y/N.” Steve gave me a small smile. 

“You too, Steve.”

“You’re late.” 

Giving a sheepish grin to my manager, I said a quick apology while throwing my bags underneath the bar. “My exam ran long. But I can stay late if you need me.” 

A laugh erupted from my manager, Kim. “Nice try, Y/N. You’re already closing.” 

“Well it's the thought that counts,” I joked. 

It was well past six in the evening and the bar was jam packed, wall to wall with bodies getting ready to watch the football game. Friday nights were my favorite nights to work; a lot of people getting drunk and literally throwing their money towards me. 

Yet I also hated working Friday nights; the countless men throwing vulgar sayings towards me and trying their hardest to get my number. 

The next couple hours blurred together as I made drinks and small talk with many of my regulars. I had my back turned to the only two empty seats alongside the bar as I had an all too familiar conversation with one of my regulars, Becky. 

“Y/N, you’ve got to get out there and meet someone!” She slurred while raising her beer. “How long has it been since you’ve gone on a date?”

“The only dates I get are the ones with you and my homework,” I smiled at her. 

“Here’s your chance! Look at the two new guys at the other end of the bar. I haven’t seen them here before,” she hiccuped. 

Looking over my shoulder, I found myself smiling at the familiar blonde and brunette who had their eyes glued to the drink menu. 

Excusing myself from Kim’s rant about how she would like to “take them to bed”, I stopped in front of Steve and Bucky with a large smile on my face. 

“Well look who we have here,” I sang while placing my forearms on the bar and leaning over towards them. 

It was hard to hear in the packed bar. 

“I didn’t know you worked here,” Steve smiled. 

Bucky remained quiet, eyes still glued towards the drink menu so I kept my attention on Steve. 

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Steve.” I reminded him. “So what are we drinking?”

Steve and Bucky had a quick and quiet conversation before Bucky nodded behind me. 

“Whatever you have on tap is fine.” 

I couldn’t help but freeze and blink at the sound of his voice. Something about it rang a large bell in my brain but I couldn't put a finger on what. 

“Uh, yeah sure. Of course.” I nodded. 

My hands shook as I poured their drinks, trying to calm my shaking hands. I let out a few breaths before returning back to them, a smile playing at my lips. 

“Here ya go. Did you want to keep your tab open?” I asked. 

Steve nodded. “Yeah we’re not in a rush.” 

I nodded back and as I placed their drinks in front of them, I noticed Bucky went to grab it with his left hand that was covered with a leather glove. Not wanting to stare and be weird, I coughed while throwing a thumb over my shoulder. 

“I’ve got to make my rounds. Let me know if you guys need something.” 

A quick ten minutes passed by as I refilled many drinks and small talked before I decided to check on Bucky and Steve. I noticed, however, that Steve’s stool was empty and Bucky was staring at the TV behind the bar. 

The same weird feeling filled my veins and I took a deep breath hoping that whatever this feeling was that it would disappear soon. 

“Need a refill?” I motioned towards his almost empty glass. 

“Sure, thank you,” He nodded. 

“Would Steve like one?” I asked. 

“Yeah, he only stepped out for a call.” 

After filling up their glasses, I placed it back on the bar. “Let me know if you need anything else.” 

I could tell by the way his shoulders tensed and the way he kept his hands grasped together on the bar that he did not want to have a conversation, he wanted to be left alone. 

As the night went on, I couldn’t help but think of why Bucky wore the glove on his left hand. Maybe he was missing fingers? Or maybe his left hand gets colder than his right? 

“Christ Y/N, you don’t even know him and you can't stop thinking about him,” I muttered to myself as I wiped down the counter.

“Thinking about who?” Kim asked as she came up from behind me. 

“Can you not give your best bartender a heart attack, please?” I exasperated while clutching my chest. 

“Could you be thinking about the two men sitting at the end of the bar?” Kim raised her eyebrows in a suggestive way. 

Giving a quick glance over her shoulder, I noticed that Steve and Bucky were still in their same spots, slowly nursing their third beer. They both looked like they were not in a rush to leave. 

Not that I was complaining. 

“They’re my new neighbors,” I admitted. “I can’t help but wonder about them.” 

“That’s a threesome I would love to be a part of.” Kim giggled. 

Shaking my head with a laugh, I motioned towards the stack of clean cups that were just placed on the bar. “I have work to do, Kim.” 

As I stacked the cups on the bar, I sensed someone sitting in the seat in front of me. I didn’t have to look up to see who it was, I could feel the creepiness ooze out of him. 

“What do you want, Mike?” I asked, not stopping what I was doing. 

“Go out with me,” Mike slurred while finishing off his beer. 

I shook my head. “You ask me out every Friday night and I always say no. When are you going to get it?” 

“C’mon. You’re saying no because you don’t know what you’re missing. Just one date.” 

“The reason why I always say no is because of your pregnant wife that waits for you to come home every night,” I informed while finally meeting his gaze. 

“She doesn’t have to know,” Mike grabbed my hand, a little too rough for my liking. 

“I’m only going to say this once, let go.” I stated, voice firm and not faltering. 

“Just one kiss?” His lips puckered as he started to lean over the bar. 

“She already said no. If you need help understanding, I’d be happy to help.” 

My eyes landed on Bucky who was now standing next to Mike and the way his shoulders tensed under his leather jacket made my stomach tingle. Mike dropped my hand before sauteing away, embarrassed he was turned down yet again. 

“Thank you,” I said to Bucky. “He comes in every Friday and still won’t take the hint I’m not interested.”

Bucky nodded with a small smile. “Anytime.” 

We fell in silence as our eyes locked and the blue color of his eyes rang that bell in my brain again. Something about those eyes were so familiar but I couldn’t tell how. 

“Um, did you and Steve need anything?” I asked, hoping to ease the sudden tension between us. 

“We’re ready to close the tab,” he stuttered for a moment, obviously feeling the sudden weird feeling that wrapped around us. 

A quick second later, I handed him the receipt with a quick thank you. “I’ll see you guys around?” 

Bucky nodded and handed back the receipt signed before walking out of the bar with Steve, who gave me a quick wave goodnight. 

I paid no attention to the name on the receipt, the $100 tip clipped to it immediately taking my attention. 

“Mom, I still have one more semester before I graduate. We shouldn’t be planning a party yet. Yes, I passed all of my exams. I have a two week break before classes start up again. No, I think I’m going to stay home and enjoy some me time. Oh god, no mother I will not go ask my neighbors to hang with me! I really wish I never told you about them. Alright, I’m hanging up now, love you.” 

With a loud sigh, I ended the call and tossed my phone onto the couch with my body following. I had finished my last exams the other day and after passing them all, I decided to celebrate with a two week vacation from work. Just Salem and I in our apartment watching crappy movies and eating crappy food. 

I didn’t want to tell my mom that another reason why I wanted to stay home and recoup is because of the nightmares I was having. Every night for the last two weeks, I dream of people screaming and dying. The terrors kept me up and I was amazed that I was able to finish this semester without failing. 

“Where is that cat anyway?” I questioned while standing up from the couch. “Salem, baby, where are you?”

After looking in all of his favorite hiding spots twice, it was when I walked back into the living room that I finally noticed the front door was open just a tad; enough for him to walk through. 

I was on the phone with my mom when I returned back from my morning shift at work and must have forgotten to shut the door behind me. 

“Fuck,” I cursed while running out into the hall. “Salem?!” 

A door clicked open and Steve was in the hall, a worried look on his face. “Hey, everything alright?” 

Letting out a shaky breath, I shook my head. “My cat got out and I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Is he black?” Steve questioned while leaning against his doorframe. 

“Yeah, have you seen him?” I asked, hopeful. 

Steve only nodded and motioned for me to follow him. 

Once in his apartment, I found myself breathing a large sigh of relief at the sight in front of me. Salem was lounging on their couch cuddling with a beautiful white, long haired cat. 

“It seems like Salem found himself a girlfriend,” Steve laughed. 

“I didn’t know you guys had a cat,” I said while picking up Salem and giving him love. 

Steve motioned me to sit on the couch, which I happily obliged. “Alpine is Bucky’s.”

“Well, she’s adorable. If Salem goes missing again, I’ll know where to look.” I giggled as Salem jumped from my lap and laid next to Alpine again. “Thank you for finding him.”

“Would you like anything to drink?” Steve questioned. 

Immediately I shook my head. “No, I should probably go. We’ve imposed enough.” 

I said the last part towards Salem mostly and went to leave but Steve shook his head. 

“You’re not. Salem is welcome here anytime. You too.” 

Steve’s small smile warmed my heart and I found myself lounging into the couch. “Thank you.”

We made small talk for a while, him asking how my semester finished at school, and I swore I never told him about finishing but waved it off. I’ve been so tired lately that I could have easily forgotten to tell him. 

“So how are you and Bucky liking Brooklyn?” I asked. 

Steve leaned back into the couch and rested his arm across the back of it. “We both actually grew up here. We left for work and decided to spend the rest of our days here.” 

Something about the way that Steve said put a little fear and hesitation in me. Even with his long hair slicked back and his full beard covering his face, something about him rang some sort of familiarity in me. 

“So,” I started, deciding to change the subject hoping the fear would disappear, “Where is Bucky?”

Steve’s brows perked at my interest in his roommate's whereabouts. “What, I’m not good enough for the company?” 

A loud giggle left my lips. “Eh, you’re alright.” 

We both shared a loud laugh and suddenly, the front door opened and a very sweaty Bucky entered the apartment. My eyes locked in on his broad chest that the muscles were defined in his extra tight Henley. The long sleeves encased his large arms and when I noticed the leather glove on his left hand again, I quickly averted my gaze back to his face. To my surprise, he was doing the same to me. 

His eyes took in my tired appearance and when they rested on Salem next to me, a small smile came to his lips. “You just can't stay away from Alpine, can ya buddy?” 

My eyes doubled in size. “He’s been here before?!” 

Bucky walked into the kitchen and took a long swig of water before nodding. “A few times now. I found out he walks through the fire escape and comes in through the open window in my bedroom.” 

I looked at Salem, appalled that he was having these little rendezvous. 

“So that’s what you’ve been doing while I’ve been gone?” I asked him. 

His face said everything he would if he could talk. 

Absolutely zero fucks given. 

“I’m so sorry that he keeps on bothering you guys.” I apologized to them. 

“It’s alright, we don’t mind him.” Steve informed as Salem jumped into his lap. 

The clock on the wall let me know that I was here for over an hour. “Well, I’ll let you guys get back to your night.”

Salem followed suit as Steve walked us to the door, showing us out. Bucky remained in his place in the kitchen and I felt his gaze on me as I walked out.

“No, please!” 

My body was locked into place on my bed, the nightmare pressing down on me. 

“I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t kill me!”

Soft whimpers escaped my closed lips as hands wrapped around a throat, cutting off their airway. 

The scene changed to a large room with a chair in the middle. Screams were heard bouncing off the walls, screams of pain and despair. A man dressed in an old army uniform stood in front of me, a language I had not known coming from his lips. He only spoke ten words. 

Longing. 

Rusted. 

Seventeen. 

Daybreak.

Furnace. 

Nine. 

Benign. 

Homecoming. 

One.

Freight car. 

Even though it was in a language I hadn’t heard before, I understood every single word. 

“Soldat?” 

“Ready to comply.” 

The voice came from my own throat and I awoke in a quick start, a loud scream ringing throughout my apartment. I shook with fear, that voice sounded so familiar and it shook me to the core knowing that a different voice came through me. 

A loud knock sounding at my front door caused me to jump from my bed, my body falling onto the floor with a hard thud. I backed myself into the corner of my room as the knocking continued, afraid that whatever nightmare I was having was coming true. 

“Y/N?” 

Bucky’s soft voice sounded outside my front door and with a quick jump, I was at my door, opening it slightly. 

I was met with his very tired eyes and suddenly felt guilty for waking him up from my nightmares. 

“Hey, I heard you screaming. Is everything alright?” He questioned while peaking over my head into my apartment. 

“I’m sorry for waking you. I just had a bad dream, that’s all.” 

My voice came out hoarse and quiet. 

Bucky nodded. “Okay. Well, let me know if you need anything, alright?” 

Giving him a small smile of thanks, I shut the door and quickly locked it. Not before noticing that he only kept his left hand in his pocket the entire time. 

I sat up in bed, arms wrapped around my knees that were pulled up against my chest, afraid that if I fell asleep again that I would have another nightmare. The sun was casting a golden glow in my room and the warmth felt nothing against my cold skin. 

After Bucky left, I couldn’t find it in myself to fall back asleep so I tried everything I could to stay awake; multiple cups of coffee, listening to music, and watching countless movies. I was starting to lose the fight, feeling exhausted and before I could stop myself my body fell onto the mattress, sleep winning. 

Two men dressed in suits walked up stairs to an apartment. The warm summer breeze blowing through their hair. My hand extended towards the other man, the face being so familiar but yet unknown to me, and he took the key with gratitude. 

“Thank you but I can get by on my own.” The smaller man said. 

“The thing is, you don’t have too.” 

Words escaped through my lips again, in a different voice. 

This dream was different from all the others. I didn't feel death or scared; I felt warmth and love. 

My hand was placed on the smaller man's shoulders. “I’m with you till the end of the line, punk.” 

“I know, jerk.”

My dream shifted to another memory and I found myself being surrounded with trees and a large group of people around me. I was invisible to them, no one noticed I was there. There were cheers and applause, something worth celebrating for. 

“Hey! Let’s hear it for Captain America!” 

I awoke and found myself back into my own apartment, Salem laying softly next to me with a quiet purr coming from him. 

Breathing a sigh of relief, I rolled out of bed and walked into the open main living space of my apartment and was getting ready to find something for breakfast but my feet froze when I noticed what time it exactly was. 

“Six o'clock?! What the hell, did I sleep the whole day away?” I groaned. 

Debating on what I would do with the rest of my night, I decided that I would try and relax by taking a hot bubble bath. After that much needed bath, I walked back into the living room in my usual pjs that consisted of an oversized t-shirt and an old pair of an ex's boxers, and noticed that Salem was not alone on the couch; Alpine had decided to join us tonight. 

“Well hello, does your dad know you’re over here?” 

As soon as the words left my lips, there was a knock at my door. 

Blue eyes pierced my own as the door opened and I was overtaken with an urge to jump into Bucky’s arms; I didn’t. 

It was already awkward enough that I was standing in front of him looking like a hot mess. 

“I’m guessing Alpine is over here?” He asked while leaning against the door frame. 

I nodded with a smile. “Yeah. I can send her back home if you’d like but I do have to say, they look pretty comfortable.” 

Moving to the side, I let Bucky peek into my apartment at the couch where our two cats laid cuddled together. 

“You can send her home later,” Bucky laughed. “I’ll let you get back to your night.” 

Before I could stop myself, I gently grabbed his right arm to stop him. “Actually, if you want to stay you can. I was going to order some food and watch a movie.” 

Bucky stuffed his hands in his sweater pocket and hesitated. “I don’t want to impose.” 

“Not at all,” I spoke with a smile and opened the door more to let him inside. 

“Uh, Steve was actually picking up some Chinese for us. I could tell him to pick something up for you too,” Bucky suggested. 

“That would be great, thank you. I’m fine with whatever you guys are having.” 

While Bucky was on the phone with Steve, I quickly excused myself to change. I suddenly found myself wanting to impress Bucky. After deciding on a pair of skin tight leggings and an oversized white knit sweater, I tossed my hair a bit, giving it some type of wave, before walking out into the main living area. 

“Steve is going to be awhile. The Chinese place is busy,” Bucky informed me. 

I waved him off, saying it was alright. “Can I offer you anything to drink?”

“Beer is fine, thank you.” 

After giving him one, I sat on the opposite side of the couch while pulling my feet under me. 

“How long have you and Steve known each other?” I asked. 

“Uh, since we were kids. We basically grew up on the playground together.” 

Something about him and my nightmares had this weird connection that I wasn’t able to put my finger on. If my mother had a say in it she would tell me that it was the whole ‘soulmate dreamers’ but I never believed in that stuff. It was an old wise tale that  her great-great-great grandparents told her.

“Well what do you want to know about me? Ask me anything,” I offered. 

Bucky placed his empty bottle on the table in front of him before leaning back into the couch. His arm rested on the back, fingers close to my knees. 

“Steve said that you’re in law school?” He asked. 

“Yup, I’ve got one semester left before I graduate.” I spoke proudly. “My parents have six kids, me being the oldest, so being the first one to graduate is big. My mom wants to start planning a party.”

“She seems very proud,” Bucky noted. 

I nodded. “She is. I don’t see my family very much, they live in Greece. I moved here at eighteen for school.” 

“That sounds tough.” 

“It can be at times.” I admitted. 

A silence fell between us and I looked over to his arm that rested on the back of the couch, noticing he was wearing the glove again. I then remembered that he only ever wore long sleeves when I was around. I knew it was none of my business but I couldn’t help but wonder what was underneath his shirt and glove. 

Suddenly I found myself wondering what was underneath his black sweatpants and heat spread through my body. Flash images of two people in bed together played in my mind. Sweaty, hot bodies pressed against each other and their moans were in sync. 

“Y/N?” 

Looking towards Bucky, the images disappeared from my mind, and I bit my lip. “I’m sorry, did you say something?” 

He nodded towards the door. “Steve’s here.” 

“Oh, sorry.”

I let Steve in with a smile, saying thank you for picking up some food. 

“Was I interrupting something?” He questioned while nodding towards Bucky's beer bottle and my empty wine glass. 

“Not at all, we were just talking.” I said. “Make yourself comfortable.” 

As I set out the food on the table, Steve punched Bucky in the shoulder. 

“Next time you’re picking up the food, punk.” 

Bucky laughed. “Sure thing, jerk.” 

My body froze when I heard those familiar words. 

Punk. 

Jerk.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Steve asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

“Uh, actually I’m not feeling well. I’m sorry guys but I’m going to have to cut the night short.” I lied. 

Bucky went to speak but I stopped him by nodding towards the door. “Can you lock up for me?” 

Not bothering to hear their response, I ran into my room and locked the door behind me. 

Weeks had passed by, me busying myself with school and work, as I tried to avoid Steve and Bucky. Ever since that night we all hung out, I tried to make sense of this whole situation. I didn’t know much about them and was afraid of what I would find out. 

The nightmares had ended after that night and I could sleep easier knowing that the screams of death would no longer haunt me. 

I still felt guilty, however, ignoring Steve and Bucky. They both had been nothing but nice and sweet to me and I cut them out of my life with no explanation. 

Letting out a soft sigh, I let my door close behind me as I made my way towards the laundry room on my floor. My laundry had started to pile up and I knew I couldn't keep hiding out in my apartment. I was running out of clean clothes. 

A soft tune from the 1940’s played through my phone, me finding this music relaxing, as I was shut out of the outside world. My hips swayed to the music and I was oblivious to the man who entered the room.

“You’ll never know how many dreams. I’ve dreamed about you or just how empty they all seemed without you. So kiss me once, then kiss me twice then kiss me once again. It’s been a long, long time,” I softly sang the words. 

“This has to be one of my favorite songs.” 

Dropping my basket of clothes on the ground, I turned on my heels and was face to face with one of the men I was avoiding. 

“How long have you been standing there?” I questioned. 

Bucky set his basket of clothes down on the table. “Since the start of the song.” 

“Well, I’m just about finished.” I rushed while picking up the clothes that fell out of my basket.

“Y/N, did we do something?” Bucky asked. 

I shook my head. “I’ve been busy with school and work. Speaking of which, I’ve got a paper due in an hour so I should get started.”

As I tried to walk out, Bucky stepped in front of me to stop me. “If I did anything to make you feel uncomfortable, I’m sorry.” 

“Bucky, you didn’t do anything. I’ve just been really busy.” I admitted with a sigh. 

Finally looking up at him, I noticed how close we were and I sucked in a breath. His lips were plump and punk from underneath his beard and I fought the urge to see how they tasted. 

He gently raised a hand to move a strand of hair from my face. “You’re a terrible liar.” 

His voice was soft and quiet.  

“I really should get started on that paper,” I whispered.

Gloved fingers grazed my chin and forced me to look into his eyes. I couldn't ignore the coldness that seeped through the leather.  

“Before you go,” Bucky’s breath fanned over my lips and his other hand reached around my hip, “You don’t want to forget this.” 

My eyes looked away from him and my cheeks burned with fire when I noticed that he was holding up one of my red lace bra and panty sets. I hastily grabbed them and tossed them into my basket. 

“I bet red looks really good on you,” He murmured into my neck.

Heat filled my veins at the gruffness of his voice and I shifted on my feet trying to hide my arousal. 

“I’ll-uh-see you around, Bucky.” I muttered while quickly running out of the room back to my apartment to take a long, cold shower. 

Tightness engulfed my throat as the air was being sucked out of me. I tried to yell, scream, but nothing would come out. The hand around my throat tightened with every fight and my vision became hazy. Life was being squeezed out of me and there was nothing I could do to stop it. 

My eyes, before fading to black, looked from the dark eyes peeking through the long strands of hair and down towards the arm that was wrapped around my neck. Except it wasn't a normal arm, it was cold and hard. 

It was metal. 

A loud knock woke me from my nap on the couch and I let out a big sigh of relief that I was able to breathe again. This was the first nightmare I had in weeks and this one felt so real; I truly thought I was going to die. 

Another knock sounded on the door. 

“Coming!” I yelled while getting up from the couch. 

“Let’s go.” 

Steve grabbed my hand and pulled me out of my apartment, locking the door behind me. 

“What’s going on?” I asked, trying to plant my feet in place. 

“You’ve been ignoring us for weeks, Y/N. You’re hanging out with us tonight.” 

“But-,” I started. 

We stopped in front of Steve’s door and he shook his head. “Bucky said you’ve been busy with school and work so you’re relaxing with beers and crappy movies, okay?”

Realizing that this was a fight I wasn’t going to win, I sighed. “Fine but you’re paying for the beers. And I want an extra large cheese pizza.” 

“Deal,” Steve smiled. 

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back soon.” Steve let me into his apartment and with a quick wave, he was down the stairs. 

I could hear water running behind a door and I figured that Bucky was in the shower. Biting my lip, I tried to picture what he looked like with the water cascading down his broad chest to his hips and even lower.

“Get a hold of yourself, Y/N.” I muttered while sitting on the couch. 

I spent the next few minutes cuddling with Alpine, waiting for Steve to return, and when the bathroom door clicked open my previous thoughts had come true. 

Bucky stood in front of me with a black towel wrapped loosely around his waist, obviously not expecting me to be sitting in front of him. Water dripped from his hair and I followed it down his naked torso. My mouth ran dry when I noticed the glistening shine coming from his arm. 

His metal arm. 

“What’re you doing here?” He asked, not bothering to tighten the towel around him. 

I could tell that he was nervous when he saw that I couldn’t take my eyes off his left arm. 

“Uh-Steve, he uh, went to get something to eat,” I stammered over my words. 

The man that I had been dreaming about, having nightmares about, was standing in front of me and I realized that the folklore my mom used to tell me growing up was in fact true. 

Bucky was my soulmate. 

“Your arm,” I pointed towards it. “Oh my god, you killed people.” 

Bucky shifted, his body tensed. “I can explain.” 

I stood on my feet and made a run for the door. Bucky stepped in front of me to stop me. His bare chest was in front of me and I refused to look into his eyes. 

“Please let me explain, Y/N,” He pleaded. 

I shook my head, voice almost gone. “I really should go.” 

“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” His hands cupped my face and forced me to look at him. “I’m not that person anymore. That was years ago.” 

When I didn’t fight him, he sighed before continuing. “Just give me five minutes and I can tell you wherever you want to know.”

“I already know what I need to know. I dreamed of your memories for months, their screams and cries kept me up every single night,” I stated. 

Before I could register what was going on, Bucky had me over his shoulder and was walking towards his room. My butt fell onto his bed with a soft thud and he kicked the door shut. I backed up as far as I could, my back hitting his headboard. 

“Y/N, please,” Bucky begged. “If I wanted to hurt you, don’t you think I would have done so already?” 

When I was silent, he knew that I couldn’t argue with that question. 

“Why’d you do it?” I questioned, voice shaky with sobs. 

“I’ll explain everything as long as you’ll let me but can I get dressed first?” He motioned towards the towel.

Giving a small nod, I turned my back to him, allowing him to get dressed. When the bed dipped down next to me, I looked over to him and noticed he opted out of putting on a shirt. His metal arm out on full display. 

“I never thought it was true; soulmate dreamers. My mom would tell me these stories growing up but that's all I thought they were. Stories,” I said. 

“That’s why you dreamed of my memories?” Bucky asked. 

I nodded. “They weren’t all bad. I dreamt of times with both you and Steve. You two were in a war and you called him Captain America?” 

That was when Bucky explained everything. How after his time in the war, he was kidnapped by this highly known terrorist group called Hydra and they used him and his arm as a weapon of destruction. They would freeze him then unfreeze him when they needed him to kill someone. When he was done, they would wipe his memory and freeze him again. Which would explain why he looked so young; he was born in 1917. 

“I don’t understand. I’ve been living in New York for years and I can’t believe I’ve never heard of you guys before,” I said astonished. “And Steve was frozen in ice for over 70 years?”

“After everything we’ve been through, we decided to come back home and try to live normally,” Bucky said. 

I sat up on my knees. “Did you ever have dreams of me?” 

A warm smile played on Bucky's lips. “Every night.” 

“Of what?” 

“When you were five years old and your parents surprised you with the puppy you’d been wanting for so long. Or the time that after your 16th birthday, you snuck out of your house to see a boy but after you climbed down the tree, your dad was outside waiting for you.” 

A giggle left my lips. “I got in so much trouble.” 

“My favorite is when you were singing in the laundry room to my favorite song. That was when I knew I was in love with you,” Bucky admitted. 

“That happened earlier today,” I reminded him. 

Bucky nodded. “I knew it from the moment I saw you when I moved in that you were my soulmate. I dreamt of you for months before meeting you.” 

“What does this mean now?” I wondered while reaching for his metal hand. “We both know that we’re meant to be together but what do we do?”

His flesh fingers brought my face closer to his and without saying a word, our lips collided together. The kiss was fast, needy, but slow at the same time. His lips tasted exactly how I thought they would; minty. I climbed into his lap while running my hands through his hair, deepening the kiss. 

“Bucky,” I mumbled into his lips.

“Hm?” 

“I. really. Don't. want. To,” I spoke in between kisses. “I don’t want to ruin the moment but we’ve got four eyes staring at us.” 

Bucky pulled away and we both looked over to the window where both Alpine and Salem stood, watching us. 

“It seems like we’re not the only soulmates,” I giggled, feeling Bucky’s lips brush against the sensitive skin of my neck. 

“You know what I’m wondering?” He pondered. 

“What's that?” I breathed while brushing the hair out of his face. 

“If you’re wearing that red number underneath these clothes,” Bucky groaned. 

I raised my eyebrows in seduction. “Why don’t you find out?” 

Our laughs and moans were heard throughout his apartment. That night I slept with a warm body next to mine and the nightmares had stopped; for good. 

[logoleptic-since-06]

It's Two-Faced, It's Too Late

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader Content: Fem!Reader, College AU, Athlete!Toji Fushiguro, Hacker!Reader, Stalking, Crack, Profanity, Suggestive, Not Proofread

MDNI

<- Prev Part 2 Next ->

Toji checks his phone to see the time is exactly 7 PM, so here he is standing in front of your dorm room’s entrance just as you asked him to. He rings the bell and waits. A few seconds pass and the door opens by itself, revealing a dark room only lit by purple LED lights.

“Toji Fushiguro,” he hears a voice call. His eyes follow the sound to find you sitting in front of your computer setup, your back facing him.

“Y/N?” he asks as he steps in hesitantly. Once he does, the door closes and locks behind him automatically.

What have you made your room into?

You kick the chair next to yours before saying, “Sit.” And for the first time in his life, Toji feels as though he is the one being intimidated. He sits on the chair and finally sees your face when he feels his heart do something it has never done before. 

It skips a beat.

Toji clears his throat. “Hi, I’m Toji.”

You look like you’re suppressing a mocking smile. “I’m aware.”

“Right, so–”

“Give me your phone.”

Right on business, huh? Just the way he prefers anyways. Then why does he feel a pang of disappointment? Ignoring the confusion bubbling in his head, he unlocks his phone and gives it to you.

“Has this stalker ever called you?”

“No, they just send me texts from different numbers.”

“When did it start?” you ask as you begin to connect his phone to your PC.

“About two weeks ago.”

“And how frequently do you get these texts?”

“At first, I used to get one every day, but after a week of that had passed, I’ve been getting multiple texts a day.”

“Show me the texts.”

He hesitates.

“What?”

“Well, the texts are just them telling me where I currently am and sending me screenshots of the tape.”

“I genuinely don’t care about seeing anything explicit, if you have the courage to film it, you can show it to me. I’m helping.”

He opens each text one by one and shows them to you; and in the last one, you see that Toji had finally asked what they demanded to which they talked about him having to resign from the basketball team.

“Is it okay if I transfer data from your phone to my PC so I can work on this?”

“Do anything, it doesn’t matter.”

“Okay then, just a second,” you say as you open a window on your computer that is completely unknown to Toji. He unintentionally stares at you in awe as you work on your craft like an expert. As he watches as you type in what he assumes are codes, he can’t help but feel impressed by your skills.

“So how come I’ve never seen you around campus before?” He breaks the silence.

Your eyes don’t divert from your screen when you answer. “Uhh, I attend most of my classes online, and I don’t really have that many friends that I hang out with.”

“Why do you attend your classes online if you’re already on campus?”

“Well, first of all, I have a job so time management can be a hassle. And most of my work is online anyways, I have everything on this PC that I can’t carry to my classes.”

“Right.”

You soon disconnect the cable from his phone and hand it back to him. “I will do a thorough check up on the data and reach out to you later, okay?”

“Sure, thanks, doll.”

“Fushiguro, I have access to your entire photo library along with your browser history. If you call me that one more time, I won’t just go through them but also leak every single one of your secrets.”

“You have my what? I thought by data you meant my phone bill history or some shit.”

“I had to take everything just in case.”

“Just in case of what, exactly?”

“Who knows?”

Wow, he is terrified of you. “So like, are you gonna go through my shit now?”

“I’ll go through whatever I need to go through in order to investigate. Nothing more, nothing less. Now leave.”

“But you–”

“Leave.”

“Fine, damn,” he snaps before stealing one last glance at your face and turning back.

Note: The writing feels very bland and that's definitely not because of my busy schedule (it totally is). Part 3 will be out tomorrow hopefully.

Tags: @linaaeatsfamilies @aseqan @corvid007 @sevensdigitalheaven @minkoq

[salty-autistic-writer]

I wish you would write a fic where Buck experiences Tommy going into Autistic shutdown.

Thanks for the prompt! <3

Tommy is silent on the drive home.

He’s turned away from Buck, staring out of the window, only answering in hums, shrugs or barely noticeable shakes of his head.

“Hey. Are you alright?” Buck asks when he has to stop at a red light.

“Hmmm.”

Buck frowns. “Anything you want to talk about?”

Nothing.

Buck throws a concerned glance at Tommy, or rather, at the back of Tommy’s head.

Okay. This is new.

And Buck struggles with the urge to press. To insist. Because if anything bothers Tommy, if anything hurts or worries him, Buck wants to help. Wants to comfort and reassure. Wants to be a good boyfriend.

But every signal Tommy is giving indicates that he wants to be left alone. And Buck guesses he has to be patient then, even if it hurts. Even if he’s scared that it’s something he did wrong. The thought burns. Did he do or say anything wrong today? Did he hurt Tommy by accident? 

No. He has to stop spiralling. It’s been a long day of work ending with a long evening of socialising. They all went to a bar together for the first time. The whole 118. Spontaneously. Buck did notice Tommy’s surprise and hesitance when he was asked if he would come too, noticed that brief frowny moment of really? before he had his confident smile back in place and said “Of course”. 

It got late. Tommy is probably just exhausted and needs some time for himself. They have only moved in together recently, so they are also still getting used to sharing everything all the time.

When they’re home, Tommy mechanically, wordlessly, takes off his jacket and shoes and makes a beeline for the bedroom.

Buck stares after him, baffled, scratching the back of his head in restless uncertainty.

It’s getting increasingly difficult to not just burst and ask Tommy a thousand questions. Buck holds himself back. Takes a few deep breaths instead. Only after he goes to the bathroom and drinks some water, does he go to the bedroom to check on Tommy.

It’s dark in the room because the curtains are drawn. Tommy sits on the bed, still in his clothes, knees pulled up, arms wrapped around them, head resting on them. He’s not moving.

Maybe he has a migraine? Buck’s chest clenches in sympathy. He doesn’t really know what to do. But he feels like it’s a little cold in the room. So he takes one of their extra blankets and wraps it around Tommy’s stony shoulders. Then, he grabs his laptop and sits on the bed too with his back to Tommy’s, without touching him. They are sitting in silence like that, the room filling with the noise of even breathing and rhythmic keyboard clattering.

Buck doesn’t know how much time has passed when Tommy’s shoulder nudges him. “Hey,” Buck says, smiling Tommy turns around and puts his head on Buck’s shoulder. “You okay?” “Hm. What are you doing?” Tommy asks, his voice slightly dozy as if he just woke up from a nap.

“Not much. I started with a mystery story about a message in a bottle I found and somehow ended up reading about the frankly horrifying eating habits of Komodo dragons.”

“Wow,” Tommy says, shuddering when he sees the quite graphic picture Buck was looking at. “Poor little deer. Well. I guess it’s the circle of life. So, uh, you probably want to talk about it, huh?”

“Hm?”

“Me, going all silent on you,” Tommy clarifies.

Buck closes the laptop. “Oh. It’s fine. I was just worrying.”

Tommy nods, unsurprised. “It’s not you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Okay. But … are you okay?” “Me?” Tommy says, now sounding a little surprised. “Oh. Yeah. Sure. It was just a little too much today. I didn’t want to be a buzzkill. And it’s not like I don’t like spending time with people, especially your family and friends. I just like to know. So I can prepare myself. Unplanned social events tend to make me a little … withdrawn after because they seem to drain all the energy I had left for the day. Always feels like my stupid mind is a battery that has to recharge after days like this, sorry.”

“I had a feeling,” Buck nods. “And you don’t need to apologize. Or to pretend. You can be honest with me. If you don’t feel like going out, you can tell me. We don’t have to. We can just have a nice relaxing evening at home together. I want both of us to be comfortable.”

Tommy is silent for a moment. “Thank you,” he finally says quietly.

“What for?”

“For being so accepting. For not pushing. For the blanket.”

Buck wants to chuckle, but then he feels a hint of sadness. Because sometimes he feels like Tommy is thanking him for totally normal things. If this is what Tommy sees as accepting, that means someone couldn’t even do this. Couldn’t even let Tommy have a moment for himself when he clearly needed it. Buck makes a mental note to ask. Because he feels like this is totally something they should have a long talk about. But not now.

“I hope it helped,” he says instead.

“It did,” Tommy says. “You have no idea.”

Buck smiles. “I'm glad. Are you hungry?" “Yeah.”

Buck puts a hand on his grumbling stomach. “Good. Because I could eat a whole deer right now, just like that Komodo dragon.” "Evan ..."

(AO3 Link)

[juniperskye]

Just a little something.

Based on the following ask: I have a request that may be a little difficult for you to write, if you're up for it. I would like to request Hotch with a non-bau reader that likes to crochet in their spare time, particularly stuffed animals, and gift them to others. Jack and Hotch would obviously receive the majority of the amigurumi projects, but one day, the reader makes too many little crochet animals and persuades Hotch to take them to work and hand them out to other agents. You wouldn't have to go too into depth about the crocheting techniques if you don't think you could properly write about it; you could honestly just mention the creation period in passing and the present the finished crochet piece in the plot.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Fluff

Word count: 841

Not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, Age gap (non-specified), established relationship with Hotch, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description, reader crochets, mention of Jack, mention of reader’s nieces and nephews, mention of anxiety (reader uses crocheting as an outlet) use of pet names, let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

You had picked up crocheting back when you were in college. Then, and even now it served as an outlet to release stress and anxiety. When you had started out your projects were fairly simple, wash cloths, granny squares, simple blankets.

The beauty of this hobby was that it allowed for some beautiful handmade gifts. As time went on, you began making stuffed animals. Your sister had gifted you a book with patterns for amigurumi projects, and from then on you’d been making all sorts of little creatures.

The primary recipients of your creations had been your nieces and nephews. First it was their baby blankets, then elephants, and turtles, which turned into cows and opossums, and most recently Pokémon.

When you and Aaron started dating you’d mentioned your hobby in passing, but as things progressed in your relationship, crocheting seemed to come out a little more in you. You’d casually pull out a project while watching a movie with Aaron and Jack, you’d brought over a throw blanket for the back of the couch. You’d even gifted Aaron a scarf and some socks before he left for a case in Colorado in the dead of winter.

--

One night after finishing a plushie of Charmander for your nephew, Jack spoke up…soft and unsure.

“That’s really cool.” He whisper.

“Thanks bud, do you like Charmander?” You replied.

“Kinda…I don’t really play Pokémon that much.” He shrugged.

“Oh yeah, what do you like then?” You smiled.

“I like spiderman!” Jack exclaimed.

A few days later you’d showed up with a stuffed spiderman for Jack. He was over the moon and from then on, he wasn’t afraid to ask you directly for something.

--

He was an incredible kid, he’d patiently wait for you to complete the project, even asking you questions throughout the process.

“And what kind of stitch is that?” He’d ask.

“This one here is a half double crochet.” You answered.

“And that’s different than a single crochet?”

“Yes, for a half double, you put the yarn over and then pull it through all three loops. You see that?” You asked, holding the project up as you showed him how to do it.

That night you hopped online and ordered Jack a Woobles crochet kit so he could learn alongside you.

--

For as long as you’d been crocheting, people have suggested you open an Etsy shop, and you always met them with the same response; it’ll lose the serenity it currently brings me. And this is why you only make small batches for two local boutiques.

Once a month you make a few things for each shop, and you go in and drop them off. As they sell, the profits are split 60/40 between you and the shops, which gives you the money for yarn and a little extra.

In the last week, you’d made a wide variety of stuffed animals, ranging anywhere from dinosaurs and bunnies all the way to peas in a pod and cherries. You had been packing everything up to get ready to deliver them.

--

“Hey sweetheart.” Aaron called as you entered the apartment.

“Hi honey.” You set your tote bin down and made your way to the kitchen.

“How were the deliveries?” He asked, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“They were good! I actually came home with a few things. With the Holidays just ending, one of the shops still had a few items and so they didn’t need their usual stock.” You explained.

“Oh, well now you’ll have some for next time?” He offered.

“You know, next time it’ll be Easter themed stuff…chicks and bunnies. What if you took some of these in for the BAU?” You suggested. “I can wrap one up for each of them and you can leave them on their desks for me.”

“I���m not sure…”

“Oh, please Aaron! Think of it as a late Christmas gift from me! I’ll even write them notes so they know it’s from me!”

“Sweethe-”

“Please!” You begged.

“Okay sweetheart. Whatever you want.” Aaron pressed a kiss to your forehead.

--

The next morning Aaron arrived at work even earlier than usual, that way he could place the brightly colored bags on everyone’s desks prior to their arrival. You had selected a specific plush for each person, even pulling from some other projects you had stored for an event you’d be participating in.

One by one, each member of the BAU arrived, quickly taking note of the giftbags on each desk. They shared confused glances and shrugged before Aaron stepped out of his office.

“There should be a note in each bag. Feel free to open them and enjoy.” He said, returning to his office.

Aaron smiled gently, toying with the crocheted whale shark you snuck into his bag. You always said he, like whale sharks frightened people, due to preconceived notions derived from fear, but in all actuality, they were gentle creatures.

Aaron’s smile only grew as he heard Garcia squeal with joy over the soft unicorn you’d gifted her.

[probablysimpledreams]

UA Touya has been on the brain so much lately

Enji refused to get him in on recommendations (and yes he becomes pissed years later when he learns Shoto was admitted on recommendations), so what does Touya do?

He passes the exam with a flawless score, getting into the Hero Course. He’s one of the strongest in his class. He’s so driven and passionate during training. He’s everything you’d want to see in a hero.

However, his attitude plus alternative style plus quirk makes fellow students…weary of him. He’s known to be rude. He only hangs out with people from other schools. He’s covered in burn scars and grafts.

Sadly, this starts many rumors. Shit like “did you know Touya is in a gang?” and “I heard he beats up kids…some hero he will be!” and “That Touya would be better off a villain than hero.” Due to all this plus all his energy focused on becoming a top hero, one no could ever forget, he keep to himself while at school.

So it’s a huge surprise when one day at lunch he finds you standing in front of him. Touya always ate outside in the courtyard where he could blast his music without any teachers yelling at him. He’s even more shocked when you ask if you can join him.

Why was a pretty thing like you talking to him? Didn’t you hear what they all say about him?

He’s suspicious, not sure what your motive here is. You explain that you wanted to eat outside because the weather was so nice for once, and while you were looking for a spot to sit you overheard his music and wanted to listen. His suspicions don’t fade, but he allows you to enter into his little world for the next hour. You two sit together and listen to his playlist, occasionally discussing the song/album before it fades into the next.

This exchange continues for the next few weeks. You both begin really looking forward to lunch everyday. You two begin exchanging songs, homework answers, even phone numbers. You two wave at each other in the hallway, exchanging small “hi”s and smiles. You’re walking alongside friends while he’s always alone. Huh.

One day your friend watches as Touya calls for you in the hallway. You run over to him, excitedly accepting the CD you asked him to burn for you earlier that week. You run back over to your friend and that’s when you learn the rumors. How he’s this big scary villainous guy, how you shouldn’t trust him.

But that’s nothing like the Touya you knew!

So that same day at lunch, you brought up the rumors. He seemed disappointed you finally heard them, thinking it meant his time with you was over. But instead you asked him to answer each question fully honest.

“Are you in a gang?” You laid down. He followed, body laying the other way but head right next to yours.

“Nah,” he chuckled and looked up at the sky. “My friends are just losers and refer to us as ‘The League.’ The only time things get violent is game night.”

You laugh at his answer, making his cheeks go pink and a slight pout form on his lips. You then ask your next question.

“Do you really get into fights with children?”

“Ohmygod it was ONE FUCKING TIME,” he sighs, rubbing his forehead. “Shit wait that sounds bad.”

You laugh harder this time. “Touya what the fuck?”

“Okay okay look my youngest brother can be a handful. I took him to the playground one time and some badass kids made him cry,” he explains, feeling embarrassed at the memory.

“Touya no you didn’t-”

“I didn’t hurt them!! I just showed off my flame and made sure they knew to leave my brother alone….not my fault they started crying.” The look on his face is too cute as his embarrassment is clear. You can tell he’s not use to opening up like this and letting people truly see him. Your heart fluttered realizing you were becoming one of the few people who get to see him like this. Who gets to truly see Touya.

“Okay okay now final question,” you bite your lips nervously. “And you don’t have to answer it if you don’t wanna.” His eyebrow rose at your words, face turning to look at you. “How did you get your scars?”

It’s silent for a few seconds. 10 minutes go by. Then 20. Almost 30 before you speak up again.

“I’m sorry, pretend I never asked that. I just was-”

“It’s pathetic,” his breath is shakey. He’s facing the sky again, hand running through his hair. “It happened when I was a kid. I was desperate for my dad’s attention and overused my quirk a few times. One night I must have really overdid it. I don’t remember much from that day. I just woke up a while later with these gross skin grafts and my mom sobbing. Really haven’t seen the old man since. If he’s around he’s just with Shoto anyways and,” he takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. “Ah sorry I started rambling there.”

He turns to face, examining your face to gauge your reaction to the real him. He’s scanning your face for any signs of disappointment, disgust, dislike. His stomach turned at the idea of you feeling pity for him as well. God he really has to ruin everything didn’t he?

“You must be disappointed to learn I’m such a loser huh?”

But as usual you surprise him, flashing him a sweet smile as you respond, “nah, I like it. I think you’re cute.”

You then learned one more thing about Touya: being complimented makes his cheeks go dark red.

[lovelycreativecrafts]

Flirting | Gojo x Black Female Reader

Word Count: 1,020

Synopsis: Gojo flirts with a woman who has a resting-mean face.

Warnings: None

Author Notes: I had this scenario in my head for a while. I feel like it could have been written better but I still wanted to post it. I'm still learning about Gojo's character. If you liked the short fanfic, please Like, Reblog, and Comment your thoughts.

Gojo POV

I walked out of the building as my 3 students followed behind me. 

“Where are we going, sensei?” Itadori asked. 

I looked over my shoulder, “A place where you all will be doing some training. It shouldn’t be too hard since you all have gotten stronger.” I looked back in front of me. 

“Why do I feel like it’s going to be very hard.” Nobara mumbled. 

Once we made it to the track, there was a group of people already there. Students ran across the track while a familiar woman stood on the side with her arms crossed. 

“Is that the new sensei?” Itadori asked. 

“Yeah,” Megumi answered.

Nobara expressed, ”You do not want to get on her bad side. One time I was chewing gum in class and the way she looked at me was so scary I thought she would rip the gum straight out of my mouth.” 

I held back a chuckle as I listened to Nobara’s opinion. People often mistaken her words and actions just because of how her face naturally rested in a mean expression. Before, I once thought she always had a bad attitude or was angry at the world but after being teamed up with her a few times I grew to understand that was just her natural face. 

“Really?” 

Megumi added, “I would have to agree with Nobara. I mistakenly fell asleep in her class the other day and she had me stay after class. She told me to make sure I get enough sleep at night so I don’t miss anything in her class but her expression basically said the next time I fall asleep in her class, I will never wake up again.” 

“Woah, she really does sound scary. Then I’m glad our teacher is Gojo then,” Itadori said.

I turned toward my students and they all nodded in unison. 

I pointed toward myself, “Hm? Do you not think I’m scary?” 

“No.” All three of my students said at the same time. 

“But I’m the most powerful one here?” 

“That doesn’t mean you’re the scariest,” Megumi said. 

“She’s actually not that scary. Once you get to know her. Just watch.” I turned away from my students and began making my way closer to the track. 

Reader POV

I watched my students run across the track. After evaluating them a few times, I noticed that their stamina wasn’t all that great despite their amazing abilities. I told them there goal was to finish 5 laps and to take breaks if needed but ever since they started they haven’t taken one break. In fact, they ran full speed the whole time. 

As much as I appreciate their dedication, I’m going to have to stop them soon. One of them already looks like they're about to pass out. 

Something brushed past my ear, “Hello Beautiful,” a male voice whispered. 

I quickly covered my ear and jumped away from the voice. My heart raced as I turned and recognized the familiar white-haired man. 

Gojo chuckled, “I thought you would have gotten used to that by now.” 

I blinked at him, “And I thought I told you to stop doing that.” 

A smirk spread on his lips, “And why would I do that?” 

I sighed and removed my hand from my ear. Of course, it was Gojo. He’s the only one that would tease me.

I looked up at Gojo, “Why do you keep calling me that? You really shouldn’t say things you don’t mean.” 

Gojo leaned toward me, “You think I’m lying?” 

I narrowed my eyes at him, “What else would you be doing?” 

“Wow, you really should improve your confidence. I’m not really one for lying, you know.” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“Let me put it bluntly, I think you’re very pretty. Not as pretty as me of course but still pretty.” 

My cheeks warmed and I looked away from him. There he goes again. 

Gojo let out a chuckle, “You’re so cute when you blush.” 

My cheeks grew hotter as I continued to not meet his eyes, “And how would you know if I’m blushing? It’s not like you can see it with my skin tone.” 

Gojo lightly grabbed my chin and turned my head toward him, “Well for one, every time you do blush, you always turn away from me.” 

My heartbeat quickened as he leaned closer to me, “Two, your pupils in your eyes tend to expand just slightly, and three . . .”

He paused and I waited for him to answer. How long has he been observing me like this? 

“I think I will keep the last one to myself.” 

“So, you’re able to see all of that with your blindfold on? That’s hard to believe.” 

Gojo removed his fingers from my chin but kept the closeness between us, “I’m able to do a lot of things with this blindfold on and it’s no exception to seeing right through you. Honestly, you’re like an open book to me.” 

Gojo leaned away from me and a smile spread across his face, “You didn’t have to mention my blindfold just so you could see my face, you know.” 

“What? That’s not why I-,” 

“Honestly, you could have just asked and I would have gladly given you a quick glance.” Gojo placed one of his fingers under his blindfold. 

I quickly looked away from him as the blush on my cheeks spread to the rest of my face, “That-That’s not why I-I mentioned your bl-blindfold.” Why am I stuttering?

“Tell you what, I’ll let you see my beautiful face if you let me take you out on a date.” 

“What?” My eyes widened as I looked back at him. He’s doing it again.

 “Shouldn’t you ask someone that you actually like?” 

“How dense can you be? I do like you and not just because you’re pretty. Oh and by the way, I think one of your students just passed out.” Gojo pointed toward the track. 

I turned toward the track and saw one of them lying flat on the ground. I quickly ran toward my student. I thought I told them to take breaks. 

[tactical-jellyfish]

Watcher 1-1

Part Nine

Warnings!: The 141 will be criminally stupid, fumblers, all of them. Death (canon-typical), Violence (canon-typical), loss of limb (I will cover the symptoms as well as possible, but any and all corrections are welcome) They do get kissy, but no smut (that I'm writing, but it's very much implied).

There is something special about the barracks room you share with a man named Keegan Russ.

It doesn't lie in the construction, nor in the beds or how they're both unfortunately twin-size with terrible mattresses. It is so special to you because it is the very first space you've peacefully shared with someone you can comfortably admit to trusting.

Sure, temporarily, you're shared a room with Soap. Shortly before the... incident, you'd spent a good chunk of your time with Gaz. Still, you never quite felt like it was yours as much as it was his.

Back then, it had been something purely sensical. Of course the room didn't feel like it was yours, you've been here less than six months. Looking back, that feeling stung a good dose more.

It was a lucky night, in that neither you nor Keegan had suffered a nightmare. That just meant the thing to wake you was his alarm, blaring directly in your ear because Keegan always stole the part of the bed closest to the wall. You always let him have it.

The first thing you do is tiredly grab the bottle of lotion from the small nightstand, and sit yourself on the bed's edge, dispensing just enough into the warped, burned flesh of your palm.

If someone told you four years ago that you'd have to moisturize your stump first thing in the morning because it got dry overnight, you would have given them a really weird look.

Still, it's that motion that draws your favorite American to wakefulness. Every last time.

"Mhhngh, wh- oh."

Most of the time, Keegan just watches you get yourself ready. He'll pass you the compression "sock" that covers the stump that used to be your leg, gently kiss at your neck as you slip on your leg.

He used to talk more, but the quiet is good, too. It's simpler, and you struggle to speak in the mornings. Some complication or other, you're not sure. Smoke inhalation, you remember someone bringing up, in the early days.

Still, you can feel him shift behind you as you grab your prosthetic, and you feel two thick arms wrapping around your waist as he gently pecks your cheek, feels up on one of the few non-marred parts of your body.

"Hello to you too, Keegan."

The chuckle he gives you is worth the strain to your throat, and you can feel his cheeks rounding with a smile against the column of your throat.

There's a grateful hum that quickly turns into a soft grumble of annoyance as you rise on foot and fake limb, the younger still shrouded with blankets and drowsy. You've become accustomed to this.

"Already?"

"Yup."

Keegan groans again, but catches your hand in his own when you offer it, and hauls himself out of bed, rubbing the sleepy crust from the corners of his eyes and reaching to his clothes for the day.

"Thanks, Newton."

Your call sign drives a snort from you, and Keegan smiles when he hears it, though he doesn't react further, and a comfortable silence–broken on occasion by the soft rustling of clothes–settles between these sacred walls.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Of course, there are many parts to a morning, Keegan is not the only person you see anymore.

No, you do have people you... tolerate, now.

Maybe tolerate sounds rude. You do like Hesh and Logan, but in the mornings the younger really does test you.

At the very least, Keegan is the one who receives the brunt of that energy, as Hesh passes you the coffee.

"Real sweet, David, thank you."

The way the corners of his lips twitch up is enough to make you smile, too, and lean forward enough to press a little peck to his cheek.

It's always good to make sure everyone's in order before travel. You learned that from Sarah, and she'd hate to see you not living up to that.

Granted, she'll only be on the other side of the pond for another few hours, at the very most.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Maybe the only person you can admit to missing from your old task force is Nikolai.

The big Russian is someone you were only granted the honor of meeting once or twice, but he'd also never been a person that's entirely defied everything you were supposed to know about them.

Your last text from Nikolai isn't a scalding "fuck you". No, that's Soap. Bitch.

The slightly angered reverie is broken by Logan, with a strong, slightly knobby hand on your shoulder. Just a short tap, to bring you back into it.

You'll give him the credit, he knows how to handle people. Sometimes even Keegan misses a slip that's quiet like that.

"I'm here, kid."

He offers a lopsided smile at the curt response, goading you into giving him just a little more, Newton, c'mon. You humor him, this time.

"Thank you, Sergeant Walker, I commend your work for this team's morale."

You can't believe you ever used to confuse the brothers, when you watch Logan beam and puff his chest up a little at the lightest praise. Youngest child, to the very end of the line.

His mother must have been a hell of a woman, if Hesh was right about Logan being just like she used to be.

That tender thought must make you smile just a bit too wide, because he leans forward, and taps you on your nose.

"Told you I would get you to smile by the end of my first year."

"That-" He's pulling you into his traps, you almost said it didn't count. Why in god's name does Logan do to make everyone horse around like school-kids? No rational team would take this seriously "Fine, you win, Walker. Enjoy it."

He does, right up until the copper starts to land. This time, on British soil.

Your thanks are met with a phrase you can't quite parse, but you give the pilot a firm nod anyway.

Today's been good to you, even if the change in pressure has caused the phantom pain to spike. You take a moment longer to savor it before the second shoe drops.

Keegan's right there behind you, one more time, pressing his masked face into your neck so you know precisely who it is.

"You know we'll all have you, right?"

You take a second to take a breath, hand settled on the door of the helicopter, still hesitating just a little.

"Affirmative."

The second thing he says comes in a whisper, intended for only your ears, from your very favorite nurse. Your person.

"They like you just like I do. Everyone's got you, and I love you."

Those words used to make you cry. This time, they make you nod, and push the door open.

"Good choice of words, Russ. We can discuss that later."

There will be no discussion that happens later. It will be much closer to an act of fraternization, and you both know this. You know he knows this because Keegan's bouncing a little on the balls of his feet.

Still, your foot hits the floor, narrowly followed the running blade, and you give the men before you a deeply unimpressed look.

"Hello, Task Force 141."

Is it a purposeful disrespect to not greet your former captain by his name? They can't prove that.

Still, unless you've forgotten to count, there's one more soldier than there used to be.

"...And company. I didn't think you'd find new... backup so soon."

You hide nothing. Not as you look at who must undoubtedly be your replacement. Masculine-presenting, masked and he's... glued two little wires to his helmet.

What a fucking joke. They almost did you a favor by transferring you out, really.

"Firecracker?-"

Johnny is cut off firmly by you before he can finish, a tone that almost borders on reprimand.

"My callsign is Newton, MacTavish. I don't use anything unapproved."

First chapter | Previous chapter | Next chapter

[posts-from-pluto]

Humans are weird - life expectancy

Quinn always found the idea of figuring out how they would spend their time if they only had two-hundred years to live to be an interesting hypothetical. There were animals out there who lived such short lifespans after all, though none of the ones they had encountered had the mental capacity to develop long-term goals, but if they could what would they choose to do? It was one of their favorite questions to ask to get to know someone, what they prioritize.

Or at least it was until they met Edith, a researcher part of a species that had just barely begun their existence as space-faring creatures, more importantly: a species that struggled to even make it to a hundred, let alone two-hundred years old.

...The end of her first day was rather awkward, I mean how could they have possibly known that that species would just so happen to be the first ones with such a short lifespan that had managed to make it into space.

Lords it was awful, remembering it still makes them wish they had the same memory issues as the Soweps

----

After being shown around the Cultural-Exchange Station, (C.S. for short), Edith decided to go join Quinn in the Lounge. A good, casual chat to get to know one of the people she would be spending at least the next few years with seemed like a good way to spend her first day aboard. What could possibly go wrong? It wasn't like there was much else she could do, unfortunately. Quinn had made it quite clear that she didn't have to couldn't start work until the next week, something about giving her time to 'get settled before entrusting her with a position on the team'.

Under normal circumstances, that would've been great... but now? After she just spent a week trapped alone on a ship without the ability to do anything productive? She'd be damned if she was going to spend another minute of her day just sitting around alone in an unfamiliar bedroom with weird furniture. Fixing her room could wait until tomorrow. She just had to go do something, anything that wasn't using her sitting by herself in that room. She walked over to one of the terminals to pull up the way to the lounge, or at least what she assumed was the lounge given the fact that nothing was labelled, before heading off to find Quinn. Hoping that her horrible sense of direction wouldn't embarrass her on her very first day.

She made off towards the general direction of the area on the map, passing by numerous rooms with widely different appearances from one that seemed oddly... cave-like? to another that would fit in more in an aquarium than it does a space station, or atleast what you'd expect in a human one anyways. Turning the corner into the maze of long corridors, Edith continued straight, which luckily, was in fact the way to the main lounge area.

Edith: "Hi Quinn!" She shouted from halfway across the room as she walked towards the couch they were sitting on.

Quinn: Hey, did you need something?

*Carefully choosing her spot to not make them uncomfortable, Edith sat on the other side of the couch*

Edith: Nope, I just wanted to walk around a bit. Get to know everyone better and stretch my legs a bit more, you know?

Quinn: Oh okay that's cool.... How's setting up your room going?

Edith: I haven't started yet. I'm still thinking about where I'm going to put everything.

Quinn: Not at all because you're procrastinating???

Edith: *GASP* How could you accuse me of such a thing? I would never~~~

Quinn:... That reminds me I never got around to asking,

How would you spend your life if you only had 200 years to live?

Edith: where did that come from?

Quinn: We were talking about procrasination and that got me thinking about time which made me remember I didn't ask you about how'd you'd spend 200 years. It's just something I ask everyone.

Quinn:...sooo I know it 's a really short amount of time but how would you spend it?

Edith: short???

Quinn: Yeah??? Am I missing something here?

Edith: .... Humans generally only live 80ish years naturally. Like at most some people make it into their hundreds but that's extremely rare

Quinn: ....oh

Edith: .... yeaaah

Quinn: I just remembered I actually have to go work on some very long paperwork- *They rush to get up, nearly tripping over their own legs* -I'll see you later! *They continued as they started speed walking away, the look on their face told her that they'd probably be running if it wouldn't make things more awkward*

Edith could barely stop herself from bursting out laughing at the scene... She'd have to tease them about that later....

Hmmm.....Good ways to answer how'd she'd spend 200 years???

....Annoying them?

Well She'd have plently of time to think about it while she unpacked.

____

Side note: This was going to be an angsty conversation between the two of them but the second I started writing the first bit the idea of it being one of the first questions Quinn asked Edith popped into my head and it just took on it's own life so I hope you enjoyed this instead :)

[multistanisms]

Holdin' You || Ateez

FANDOM: Ateez

PAIRING: Choi Jongho x Reader

WORD COUNT: 1,470

RATING: PG-13

POTENTIAL TRIGGERS: Mentions of depression

SUMMARY: Low days are natural for you, even when it's been a while you've learned to let the lows pass. Jongho, however, refuses to let you go through it alone and shows up even when you don't want him to see you in such a state.

TAGLIST: @no1likemybbgcharlie, @spookidema

☼ ☽ ☆ ⁑ ☼ ☽ ☆ ⁑ ☼ ☽ ☆ ⁑ ☼ ☽ ☆ ⁑

[1:47pm] Baby Bear: Hey precious, we’ll be done recording a little later than we were expecting. How does a late lunch sound? [2:24pm] Baby Bear: Baby, is everything okay? It’s not like you to not answer. [2:58pm] Baby Bear: Y/N? Precious, I need you to answer me. [3:31pm] Baby Bear: I’m starting to get worried. If you don’t answer me soon, I’m gonna have Joong drive me over. [4:19pm] Baby Bear: We’ll be there in twenty minutes.

The knock on your door makes you groan despite your dog alerting you with a few barks. When you don’t get up, the dog hops down and starts towards the door. You hear the key turn and then your boyfriend’s voice is echoing down the hall.

“Hey there, Persephone, you pretty girl. Where’s your mama, huh?” Jongho greets, and you can tell he’s picked the dog up as he starts towards your room. “Y/N?” As he gets to the door, you pull your comforter closer around you.

“Not now, Jongho.”

“Not now? Y/N, light of my life, what’s bothering you?”

“I don’t want you to see me like this, Jong.” you counter, pulling the blanket back over your head. You don’t hear him moving, but you’re powerless to keep the blanket in your grasp as he tugs it back. “Noooooo,” you whine pathetically, trying to roll away. Jongho merely walks around the bed and crawls in, letting the dog crawl out of his arms so he can pull you into his arms.

“I’m not going anywhere, Y/N.” Jongho stated simply, locking you in his embrace as he spooned behind you. “Something is wrong, and I am not going to let you go through it alone.”

“You shouldn’t have to take care of me.” You pout, still refusing to look at him. You’re aware of the way he adjusts so he can rest his head on yours gently and kiss your temple. “I’m a grown adult.”

“It's a bad depression day, isn't it?”

You don't answer him, instead hiding your face in your pillow in an attempt to hide the tears blurring your vision. He doesn't force you to look at him, only pulling you more firmly against him and pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Talk to me, so I can make it better.” His voice is gentle, calm and right above your ear as he holds you.

“I don't want to burden you, you've got enough going on.”

“Y/N.” His voice is firmer as he says your name, reaching to take your hand and lace his fingers through yours. He doesn’t fight you when you pull it up to hold his hand at your chest. “You are not, and never will be, a burden. Not to me.”

“I can't even make myself get out of bed, that's a problem.”

“It's not the first time you've struggled, not will it be the last. But I can promise you that you are not a burden and that I am here. I may not be able to be at your side for every hour you fight through this round, Y/N, but I can do all I can. Bring you food and affection, walk Persephone, remind you how important you are to me, and to the members.” His thumb brushes the back of your hand as he speaks. “Hongjoong-hyung is really worried, honestly.”

“You told Joong?”

“He's the one who drove me, I had to tell him at least. We agreed not to tell the others until we knew you were safe.” Jongho defended his choice. “If we had told any of the others, you know you'd be squished under Wooyoung, San and Mingi right now. I didn't want to overwhelm you until I knew what was wrong.”

You're quiet, hand squeezing his as you try not to cry all over again. “None of you should worry about me.”

“No, stop that.” Jongho’s tone is more firm, tucking his chin at your shoulder. “You are a part of our family, Y/N. Of course they're going to worry about you. I have the right to worry about the woman I love.” His phone chimes in his pocket and he kisses your temple. “That's probably Hongjoong-hyung. Is it okay if I have my hand so I can answer him?” You reluctantly release him, and he reaches to pull his phone out and unlock it. “Have you had any food today?”

You stiffen a little as you try to remember. “I don't think so?” you murmur as Jongho types his reply.

“Hyung will be back in a little bit.”

“What do you mean by back?” You ask, face contorted in confusion. “Was he outside?”

“He was in the car, don’t worry. He just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“Why didn't he come in, it's much warmer.”

“We didn't know if you'd be open to having company. Me showing up and just coming in is one thing. I have a key and I spend half my free time here with you anyway. Hongjoong-hyung is another subject altogether.” You pout at his response, but he adds on before you can speak. “He had the car running, so he wasn't out in the cold, I promise.”

“Wait…” You adjust to sit up, looking around before your eyes turn to your boyfriend. “Weren't you guys supposed to be in the studio all day?”

“Y/N, it's after five.” Jongho said calmly, already knowing what was coming.

“No.” You turn to pick your phone up, looking through it, finally seeing Jongho's messages. When you flop back on the mattress, Jongho moves to pull you into his lap.

“It's just a rough day, baby. Everything is fine, I promise.” He soothes as you start to sob again. “I'm right here, it's okay.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Never be sorry, Y/N. You have literally nothing to be sorry for.” He rests his hand on your side gently, speaking softly as he watches you. “Do you want me to run you a bath?”

You shake your head, adjusting so your head rests on his lap and you can take his other hand. “Just stay with me.” He stays where he is, leaning back against the headboard, the hand on your side moving to your hair. The two of you are quiet except for the low volume of your TV, and after a few commercial breaks from it, you speak up again. “Hey Jong?”

“Yes, my sweet?”

“You don't like skinship, but you do it with me.”

“You're an exception to the rule.” Jongho replied. “Your touch is special, I tolerate most of the torment from the others.”

“Don't let Wooyoung hear you say that.”

“Is that a smile I hear in your voice?”

“…maybe.”

“You're not going to let Wooyoung-hyung live, will you?”

“Mm, he can for now. But I know I have this ace up my sleeve the next time he gets unbearable.”

“That's Wooyoung-hyung literally everyday.” Jongho countered. “You'll be revealing your ace pretty soon.”

You smirk a little, looking up at him. “Just put on Mario Kart, he'll be distracted trying to beat you.” Jongho laughed, and the sound eased the weight on your chest, your own lips curving up as your free hand reached up to touch his cheek. “What would I do without you, Jongho?”

“You don't have to find out, you're stuck with me.” Jongho countered, kissing your palm. The moment is shattered when there's a few knocks and the door opens.

“Where is my sister-in-law?” Wooyoung's voice carries down the hall.

“Wooyoung-ah, be quiet. I only agreed to let you come so you'd stop whining.” Hongjoong scolded, the sound of bags being set down being heard from down the hall.

“I'll go deal with them.” Jongho assured, carefully slipping from the bed and leaning over to kiss you. “I'll bring you your food.”

“No, just give me a few minutes?” You offer, looking up at him. “I'll come join you, I promise.”

“Five minutes or I bring your food in here.” Jongho stated firmly, making you giggle.

“Deal.” You catch his hand as he turns from you, tugging him to steal another kiss. “I love you, Choi Jongho.”

“I love you, too, Y/N. Never doubt that.” He pressed a third kiss to your forehead before gently easing his hand from your hand, slipping out the bedroom door and closing it to give you more privacy. With a slow, deep breath, you went about the process of actually getting out of bed, taking your phone off of silent before making your way out into the living room. Jongho was right, this wasn't your first low day, and it wouldn't be your last, but you had him there with you to weather the storm whenever it came howling.

[al-1-na]

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 ~ 𝟒

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

The move to New York happened faster than you expected. Drew wrapped up his commitments on the film and, true to his word, took some time off to figure things out with you. You found a small apartment in Brooklyn—tiny by any standard but perfect for two people who couldn’t bear to be apart anymore.

At first, it felt like a dream. Drew was there when you woke up, his sleepy smile the first thing you saw every morning. He walked you to the subway on your way to work, insisting on carrying your coffee and kissing you goodbye on the platform.

You introduced him to your favorite haunts—the bagel shop on the corner, the used bookstore where you’d spent countless weekends, the rooftop garden where you went to think. And he brought his world into yours, sharing stories about life on set, showing you his favorite films, and even letting you read an early script he was considering.

But as the weeks passed, the cracks began to show.

Drew had always been confident, charming, and self-assured. But in New York, where you had your own life and your own circle of friends, he sometimes seemed… lost. He wasn’t used to slowing down, to having days without a packed schedule or a clear direction.

One night, you found him sitting on the couch, staring at his laptop.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, sitting beside him.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I guess I just feel… useless. You’re out there working, doing what you love, and I’m here trying to figure out what the hell I’m doing.”

You placed a hand on his knee, your heart aching for him. “Drew, you don’t have to figure it all out right now. This time is about us—about being together. You’ve been working nonstop for years. Maybe it’s okay to take a break.”

He looked at you, his expression softening. “Yeah, but what if I’m not good at this? At being still?”

“You’re not ‘being still,’” you said firmly. “You’re building something here, with me. That matters, too.”

He smiled then, pulling you into his lap. “How do you always know exactly what to say?”

“I don’t,” you said, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “But I know you. And I know you’ll figure this out.”

❥❥❥❥

The next few months were a mix of highs and lows. Drew started auditioning for theater roles, drawn to the idea of performing live, but the rejections stung more than he let on. Meanwhile, your job became more demanding, with long hours and late nights that left little time for the two of you.

One night, you came home to find Drew in the kitchen, a half-burnt dinner on the stove and a guilty look on his face.

“I was trying to make lasagna,” he admitted, gesturing to the mess.

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his waist. “It’s the thought that counts.”

But as you cleaned up together, the stress of the past few weeks bubbled to the surface.

“I miss you,” Drew said suddenly, setting a plate in the sink.

You turned to him, surprised. “I’m right here.”

“Not really,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration. “You’re always at work, and when you’re home, you’re exhausted. I get it—it’s not your fault. But I didn’t come here to feel like I’m losing you again.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. “Drew, I’m doing this for us. To build a life together.”

“I know,” he said, his hands running through his hair. “But what’s the point if we don’t have time to actually live it?”

Silence hung between you, the weight of his words sinking in.

Finally, you stepped closer, reaching for his hand. “I don’t want to lose us, either. Maybe I need to figure out how to balance this better.”

“And maybe I need to stop putting all this pressure on myself to figure out my next big move,” he admitted. “I think… I just got scared. Scared that if I’m not enough, you’ll realize you don’t need me.”

Your heart broke at his honesty, and you pulled him into a tight embrace. “You are enough, Drew. Always. This isn’t about what you do—it’s about who you are. And I love who you are.”

He held you close, his arms wrapped around you like a lifeline. “I love you, too,” he whispered.

That night, you stayed up talking, making promises to each other to try harder, to communicate better, to always put you two first.

❥❥❥❥

In the months that followed, you found your rhythm. Drew started working on an off-Broadway production, throwing himself into the challenge with his trademark dedication. You scaled back your hours at work, carving out more time for the two of you.

There were still tough days, moments when the city felt too loud or the pressure felt too heavy. But you faced them together, knowing that no matter what, you had each other.

And as you sat in the audience on opening night, watching Drew deliver a performance that left the entire theater breathless, you sat there admiring him, falling in love more than ever before.

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @maybanksgirl69 @raeven-marie43 @niktwazny303

[2demondogs]

Could you perhaps write something about a throuple with chartur and a male s/o? I am so sorry if this is not something you would like to even consider and I completely understand if you don't feel like writing it

Trust me brother we love a good throuple or more in this house. What's better than one boyfriend? TWO! TWO BOYFRIENDS! insert screeching eagle emoji here

Doing HCs reqs only right now so I assume u wanted some'a those.

I couldn't find any Charthur gifs that weren't sad, forgive me </3

Most of the time, Charles is the one to do or say something. Arthur beats around the bush, and Charles doesn't give enough of a fuck to mess with that. They fumbled through a few awkward conversations of their own before deciding they were both sweet on you. He was the one who bluntly asked Arthur how he felt about him, and he was the one to do that with you, too.

Charles approached you on his own, given that he'd rather not fuck them both over in one fell swoop in the worst case scenario. They'd agreed readily on that much. He asked about himself, then Arthur, and then how you'd feel about both of them. They'll talk about it if you ask, but the bond and history between them is never really something they bring up to avoid making you feel left out. You joined in, it felt natural, and that was that.

You're probably going to end up a regular mediator. Neither Charles nor Arthur place enough weight on their own discomforts, so you're going to have to force them to talk things out like grown men instead of just forgetting about it because "it's easier." They'll learn... eventually...

Charles was already less reserved with you, but when it's just the three of you, he's an entirely different man. The comfort he already finds in Arthur's presence makes it a lot easier for him to open up to you as well. Arthur, too, is much looser on your lonesomes. Even when you are merely good friends, you hadn't heard either of them talk so much and for so long. That's with affection disregarded, though Arthur's is more obvious than Charles'.

Both Charles and Arthur have limited social batteries. One of the best parts is that neither of them is going to care if all you want to do is lay between them or on them and listen to them talk without participating. Sometimes that's all they want, too. They've both got plenty of scars and moles to study when you want to retreat into your head for a while.

Laying between them is like being trapped in an oven, though. Charles runs hot and Arthur sweats in his sleep unless it's freezing outside your tent. If you've got bad circulation, one evening sandwiched between these two guys is gonna fix it. Otherwise... good luck.

Both of them prefer touch over words. Arthur's a tad bit more reserved with it than Charles. They've accidentally put their hands on your back or reached for yours at the same time more than once, and it will happen again.

They're also both fairly touch-starved. Arthur's struggled with trusting much of anyone since his first loves went so poorly, let alone finding enjoyment in anything more superficial. Charles has been alone for most of his life and almost functions better without constant interaction. But when they're starving for it, expect them to be starving.

Polyamory isn't something they're familiar with, so mostly they're feeling it out alongside you. At the end of the day, they've done worse than kiss another man. So... why not kiss two? There's a lot of passing jokes about "Who's gettin' him for today?" and "You went camping with Charles, now it's my turn." and "Hey, rude. Let me in on that."

[featherymainffins]

Trying to remember where I first encountered humanity as a horror to see if this has a root the same way you can trace literally all of my thirst for fictional characters back to WITCH, but ngl I genuinely cannot remember anything like that.

[harmonizewithechoes]

It’s my middle child’s 3rd birthday today 🥺

3 years ago my partner was deployed overseas and couldn’t come home for the birth because the military didn’t want to spend so much time quarantining their soldiers. Fortunately I had help as my parents were watching my son (at the time just a month shy of 2) for a few days before my due date and we had moved across the street from my partner’s parents when we found out about the deployment. So I had his mom with me at the hospital holding up her phone while we got to have a rare video call with my partner as we welcomed our daughter into the world after a very quick labor. I then had two months with our two very little kids by myself before he came home. It was an incredibly hectic time and I’m still not quite sure how I was able to get through all of that but here we are with the sweetest little 3 year old (let’s call her C) we could have asked for 🥰

C loves to play dress up and she has specific characters she’ll play as where you can’t refer to her as her name or she’ll get mad. She’s not C she’s Dr C or Baby or Baby Kitty or Princess Bucket (this was her first character and yes she does put a bucket on her head as a crown). Her favorite game to play is hide and seek and she loves dance parties and drawing and she’s obsessed with her 1 year old sister. We love C so much and I’m so excited to see how she grows and changes and learns over this next year ❤️

[orcelito]

I was on call for nearly 7 hours between streaming my samurai game, watching anime, and then just chatting some. Which was really great for getting my mind off things!!! Hung out with a good assortment of friends, which was pretty great.

Though. Now I'm alone again. Which I usually enjoy. But it also has me remembering why I was on such a long call to start with...

I have therapy tomorrow, and I don't know whether I should mention this. She's primarily my grief therapist, so it'd maybe feel weird to spring something else on her... but I don't know...