#i want to play with this but idk what to do with it

[buckysouvenir]

bucky’s new uniform got you feeling all types of way. warning: 18+ content! ps.: (thunderbolts* spoilers… kind of. idk marvel spoiled everything already)

The low hum of the coffee machine and the scent of strong roast filled the apartment, but neither of those things held your attention.

Bucky Barnes—your boyfriend, your weakness, your absolute problem—was standing in the hallway, zipping up the sleek new suit that hugged every inch of him like a secret weapon.

You’d seen him in a lot of things: bloodied fatigues, loose cotton shirts, towels (God bless towels). But this?

This New Avengers suit?

It was practically rude.

“You’re doing it again,” Bucky called over his shoulder without looking. “That thing where you stare like I’m the last slice of cake.”

You didn’t even try to deny it this time.

“Cake doesn’t make my thighs clench,” you muttered, not quite quietly enough.

That got his attention.

Bucky turned, his vibranium arm glinting faintly in the morning light, and smirked. “Clench, huh?”

You sipped your coffee, legs curled under you on the couch. You were in one of his shirts—big, soft, still smelling like him—and not much else.

“You look good,” you said, voice calm even though your heart was picking up pace. “Like… absurdly good. That suit should come with a warning label.”

He chuckled, walking toward you with lazy confidence. “You think the New Avengers want a guy who’s late on his first day?”

You leaned back slightly, resting your coffee on the table as he stopped in front of you.

“I think,” you said, tugging on the front of his suit, “they’d understand if you had to deal with… an emergency at home.”

“Oh?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, but his voice had dropped a note lower. “What kind of emergency are we talking about, doll?”

You grinned, fingers sliding down his chest, tracing the grooves of his suit. “The kind that involves a very, very turned-on girlfriend… who woke up extra needy today and really wants to make out with her super-soldier boyfriend before he goes off to play hero.”

His breath hitched, subtle but noticeable. “Make out, huh?”

You were already pulling him down by the collar before he could tease you further.

The kiss started deep—hot, urgent, greedy. The kind that made your toes curl and your mind go blank. He tasted like peppermint and coffee and the kind of safety that still managed to get your heart racing.

His gloved hands found your waist, gripping tight even through the thick fabric of his suit, and you arched into him with a soft moan.

“I just finished getting dressed,” he murmured against your lips.

“You can get dressed again,” you whispered, already fumbling with the belt at his waist.

“Babe…” he warned, half-hearted at best.

“You’ve got ten minutes,” you smirked, slipping a hand between his armor and the waistband of his pants. “Use them wisely.”

His lips crashed back into yours.

In a blur, he had you laid out on the couch, his armored body hovering over yours like he was afraid to crush you—but desperate to be close. You could feel the heat of him through his suit, the tension in every controlled movement. It was sexy. Too sexy.

He kissed down your jaw, across your throat, mouthing at the sensitive skin just beneath your ear as your fingers tangled in his hair.

“You really like the suit that much?” he murmured against your skin, voice gravelly with want.

“I like you in anything,” you gasped. “But this? This is some next-level roleplay fantasy come to life.”

He laughed softly, his lips brushing your collarbone. “Remind me to wear it next time we’re actually alone for more than five minutes.”

You arched your back, pressing your body against his. “You’ve got five left.”

He groaned, rocking against you, clearly debating whether to keep his pants on or risk it.

You didn’t give him a chance to decide.

Your hand slid down, confidently, tugging at the waistband of his suit pants with enough urgency that it left no room for doubt.

“Y/N…” he rasped, bracing a hand on the arm of the couch beside your head, his body taut with restraint. “You really want to do this right now?”

You looked up at him, pupils blown wide, heat blooming low in your stomach.

“I need you,” you said simply. “Like this. In the suit. Right now.”

That was all it took.

With a muffled curse, he pulled back just enough to shove his pants down, his cock already hard and leaking at the tip. You reached for him, wrapping your fingers around him in a slow, practiced stroke that made him curse again, louder this time.

“Shit—doll, you’re gonna kill me.”

“I’ll make it quick,” you teased, pulling him back down for a kiss, deep and hot, while you hooked your legs around his waist and guided him right where you wanted.

“Wait—” he muttered, pulling back just enough to look you in the eye, breath ragged. “Are you—?”

You nodded, voice thick with need. “I’m good. I want you. Please, Bucky.”

He groaned again, and then he was pressing forward, sliding into you in one smooth, perfect thrust that knocked the breath from your lungs.

“Oh my God—” you gasped, arching under him.

He filled you so completely it was dizzying, and for a moment, neither of you moved—just breathing, tangled, shaking with restraint.

Then he started to move.

Slow at first, deep and steady, each thrust sending sparks shooting through your veins. The cool metal of his vibranium hand gripped your thigh tightly while his flesh hand tangled in your hair, pulling your head back so he could mouth at your throat.

You raked your nails down the back of his suit, helpless to stay quiet as your hips rocked up to meet his.

“Faster,” you whispered, breath hot against his ear. “Don’t hold back, Buck. I can take it.”

Something in him snapped at that.

He growled low in his throat and obeyed—his pace increasing, his thrusts rougher now, deeper, desperate. The couch creaked under the rhythm of your bodies, and the sound of skin against skin, broken only by breathy gasps and whispered curses, filled the room.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he muttered, forehead pressed to yours, sweat beading at his temple. “So warm. So perfect.”

You tightened around him at the praise, a high whimper escaping your lips as your body started to tremble.

“Bucky— I’m close—”

“I got you, baby,” he whispered, angling his hips just right, hitting that spot that made you cry out.

Your orgasm crashed over you with a blinding intensity, your back arching, nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure tore through you in waves. You clenched around him so tightly he nearly lost control right then.

“Fuck—gonna come—” he choked out, slamming into you once, twice more before he buried himself deep and spilled inside you with a groan that sounded like your name.

He collapsed against you, panting, both of you sweaty and shaking and completely wrecked.

For a long moment, you just lay there—tangled, trembling, hearts racing.

Eventually, he shifted enough to look down at you, brushing your damp hair back with the softest touch.

“Well,” he murmured with a grin, “guess I’m really gonna be late now.”

You laughed breathlessly, cupping his face. “Totally worth it.”

He kissed you again, slow this time, tender.

Then he glanced at the clock and winced. “They are never gonna let me live this down.”

“Tell them your girlfriend has needs,” you said with a smirk.

He stood reluctantly, tugging his pants back up, adjusting his suit—and shooting you a look that was part exasperated, part adoring, and entirely his.

“You’re insatiable,” he muttered.

You winked. “Only for you, Sergeant.

[pitlanepeach]

I love your work seriously and I have a request!

charles x little sister!reader like she's 15 or smt (maybe adopted idk)

just pure fluff

maybe she comes along to a race for the first time and meets all the drivers n stuff

Baby Leclerc (Oneshot)

Charles Leclerc x Sister!Reader

Summary — It’s baby Leclerc’s first time in the paddock since moving in with her big brother, and everyone wants to say hello.

Notes — I’m using these requests as little writing exercises between longer chapters of my wips and it’s so much fun. Hope you love it anon.

The paddock was much louder than she’d expected.

Louder, and bigger, and filled with so many unfamiliar faces that it made her stomach twist and her fingers twitch at the hem of her sleeve nervously.

But Charles had promised. “Stay with me, ma chérie. I won’t let you out of my sight.” And so far, he’d kept his word. His hand was still wrapped around hers, warm, steady, safe, as he guided her through the crowded areas.

“Okay, that’s the Ferrari garage just there,” he said, slowing to a stop in front of the bright red blur of it all. “Looks very cool, no?”

She nodded, wide-eyed. She was wearing one of her brother’s vintage Ferrari jackets. It hung off of her, but it was so cosy. “It’s huge.”

“You’re tiny, so everything feels huge.”

She elbowed him in the ribs—lightly, but enough to make him laugh.

Then a voice called out from behind them.

“No way. Is this the famous baby Leclerc?”

She turned just as a grinning man in a blinding McLaren kit jogged over.

Oh. Lando.

She knew him from the races, obviously. But also from the YouTube videos Charles let her watch—usually late at night with popcorn when they were supposed to be asleep.

“Hi,” she said shyly.

Lando crouched slightly to meet her height, even though he was only an inch or two taller than she was. “Hi! I thought Charles had made you up to win sympathy points.”

She blinked at him.

“I do not need sympathy points,” Charles deadpanned.

“You do when you qualify P19.”

“Lando.” He cursed.

She giggled.

And the nerves began to fade.

—

By the time Max had given her a familiar fist bump and George offered her a sip of his iced coffee (“you’re a child, you don’t need caffeine,” Charles had immediately protested), she was smiling for real.

She sat in the Ferrari hospitality with Carlos, who insisted she try every flavour of Italian cookie, and played Mario Kart with Mick on her switch that Charles had remembered to stuff into her backpack.

Every time Charles glanced her way, she was either laughing or quietly watching everything, soaking it all in with a curiosity that reminded him so painfully of when she first moved in with him—wide-eyed, unsure, but eager to belong.

“You okay?” He asked as they walked back to the motorhome after lunch.

She looked up at him, cheeks flushed from the sun. Sunblock, he thought with a self-deprecating frown. That’s what he’d forgotten. “I really love it here.” She whispered.

He smiled so wide it hurt.

“Good,” he said, tugging her hood up over her head. Sun protection. “Because you’re stuck with me now. Forever. So you’ll probably spend more time at tracks like this than at school — but we won’t tell anyone that.”

She rolled her eyes but leaned into his side anyway.

And when the race ended hours later—when she waited at the back of the garage, clutching a team radio and bouncing on her toes as he stepped out of the car, sweaty and grinning and exhausted—he didn’t hesitate.

Helmet off. Arms open.

She ran straight into them.

“P2,” he said breathlessly into her hair. “For you.”

She beamed up at him. “I want to see you win, though!”

Charles blinked. Laughed. Shook his head. “Ah. Okay. You are definitely my sister.”

[em1i2a3]

Idk if you’re taking requests but can you do Bob x reader where the reader has powers like Rogue. Bob has the biggest fattest crush on reader, reader is oblivious (but the crush is mutual), and angst angst ANGST

Sailor Song

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/Sentry/The Void x Rogue Inspired!Fem!Reader

Summary: Bob is in love with you, but you can’t be what he wants.

Warnings: Semi-Spoilers for Thunderbolts as Bob is the main character here. There is a whole boat of angst in here, and it’s a bit heartbreaking, and really frickin sad (don’t worry y’all not too sad…Hopefully lol) but I do like the character of Rogue, and this Inbox Request really sparked a lot of inspiration in me to write for an idea like this!

Author’s Note: I love where I got to go with these two characters and how it played out in the end. I added something to the reader's little arsenal of powers by the way, but it is for the plot. I hope it meets expectations. I kinda wrote this really late at night (01:49am over here lol)

Word Count: 5,477

Bob remembers the first night he saw you in his dreams.

Not when he first met you–no. That had been a tense mission briefing, it was your first introduction to the team. You had barely spoken, and Bob had sat two chairs away from you and tried not to stare. It was like he was enchanted by you– the way you held yourself, the way you stood and said your name, the little wave you gave to everyone with your gloved hands before sitting down. He remembered everything about that day.

But the dream–God the dream was so different.

It started with darkness. Not shadows, not dusk–just a smothering kind of black, like he was trapped in the deepest part of his mind. There was no floor beneath him. No air in his lungs. Just coldness. He was clawing at it. His fingers were raw and bleeding, his breath was ragged, and there was this panic that curled tight in his chest like he had swallowed barbed wire.

There was no sense of direction but all he knew was that he needed to get out, but the darkness fought back. It dragged him down, swallowed his screams, twisted his thoughts into screeching noises. It was his personal version of hell…Then…There was light.

It was just a sliver. A violent, beautiful tear right down the middle of the darkness, like someone had reached in and split the fabric with their bare hands.

Then suddenly the darkness was gone, and he found himself in the middle of a glowing field. The air was thick with warmth and the scent of something sweet–jasmine, maybe. Or lavender. He couldn’t tell. The grass around him was tall and pale, not green, but something softer–sun-bleached gold, silver at the tips like it had caught the moonlight. The sky above him was an endless stretch of colour, he couldn’t tell if it was day or night, but it was a bruised blue-purple, with streaks of rose and gold that bled through like watercolour.

It was quiet…For once it was quiet.

There was no wind. No movement. No screaming. Just breathing–his own, slow and steady. He could feel his pulse slowing down, and his skin didn’t hurt, and his hands weren’t bleeding anymore. There was no evidence of the fight he had put up in the darkness.

Confused, he turned in place slowly, trying to understand where he was–trying to find the edges of the dream. Nothing like this had ever come to him in his dreams, not when sleep was usually a war zone. A collapsing cathedral of his own mind.

Then he saw you.

You were standing a few yards away, at the center of the field, bathed in the low light. You weren’t wearing your gloves, you weren’t armored or distant, you looked happy, something he had never seen. You were smiling, and barefoot, your hair lifted slightly from the breeze that blew by you–something he hadn’t felt until that moment.

Bob froze in his spot, and your name left his mouth before he even realized he was speaking. You looked up at the sound, and turned towards it. Your eyes met him at that moment, and something in his chest cracked wide open. He was shocked that you heard him, let alone looked at him.

And then-just as his feet moved forward, just as his hand twitched at his side with the desperate, gut-deep urge to reach for you…He had woken up.

Ever since that night he would pray that he would see you again in the landscape of his dreams.

And he always did.

Each time he closed his eyes, you were there–waiting for him in that glowing field, barefoot and smiling. There was no fear or sharp intake of breath when he reached for you. It was just you, and him, in a version of the world that didn’t punish either of you for wanting something tender.

During the day, he kept his distance from you. He respected the rules you had– the ones that kept everyone safe. But in his mind he was hyper aware of everything you would do. He learned your habits, the way you avoided tight corridors, how you sat far away from people during movie night, how you always wore long sleeves no matter the weather, and how you pulled away when things became crowded.

But at night, in that field of light and silence, he didn’t have to pretend, even though he knew it wasn’t really you.

He could stand beside you without seeing you run off. He could sit close to you, close enough to touch your arm, close enough to feel your breath when you spoke. Sometimes, you would laugh and throw your head back like you weren’t scared of yourself. Sometimes you would lean into him, like it was easy…Like it was allowed.

In the dream, he wasn’t broken, and you weren’t dangerous, and that was all that mattered.

Then like always, Bob would wake up and land back in a body full of restraint. In a world full of barriers. In a life where the one person he wanted, didn’t truly want him.

Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

Because you never looked at him the way you did in the dream. You never touched him, never lingered near him too long. You were careful with everyone–but with him, there was something more than just caution. It felt like avoidance to him, and he couldn’t figure out if it was because you felt something too, or if it was just the shape of his own delusion.

—————-

“Valentina has planned a retreat for all of us this weekend.” Bucky announced, his voice even but authoritative in the way that warned everyone that nobody was going to be getting out of this, “She says it’s for ‘team bonding,’ so there are no exceptions.”

An array of groans echoed through the common room, and everyone exchanged glances at one another. You were at the kitchen island eating cereal, picking around the marshmallows, leaving them floating in the milk. Your spoon clinked gently against the bowl as you did it, moving slowly and methodically, not looking up to the chaos that was going on around you.

Across from you, Bob sat with his own bowl–one hand wrapped loosely around the ceramic, while the other one rested on the counter beside it. It wasn’t on purpose that he sat across from you, he had just walked in–wearing a baggy hoodie and matching sweatpants–poured his cereal in a sleepy haze and plopped himself down, still rubbing the dreams of you out of his eyes.

”Well why the hell do we need to go on a retreat if we literally already live together? Isn’t doing that enough?” Walker asked loudly, half-laughing, half-serious, his tone teetering on the edge of defiance. Bucky didn’t even flinch at the question because he already knew it was coming.

”Because Val said so, and because you guys don’t know how to wait until after briefings to snap at one another.” Bucky replied, not even looking up from the papers in his hands, “Just a reminder you’re the one who almost got into a fight with Yelena because she accidentally handed you the wrong clip for your gun…So…Maybe that’ll give you another reason why they want us to go into the a cabin in the woods together.” Bucky finished, his tone flat but edged with exhaustion.

A few chuckles rippled through the room, and Ava didn’t miss a beat.

”Yeah, it’s to make it easier to hide the bodies.” She said coolly, reaching for her coffee. Yelena grinned over her mug.

”I don’t need a cabin in the woods. I’d bury Walker deep enough that nobody would ever find him.” Laughter broke out, bouncing off the walls of the compound like someone had opened a valve and let the pressure spill. They all needed it, just to take the edge off the impending doom that was the forced retreat.

You glanced up at Bob who was staring down at his bowl, picking around at the contents like he was distracted. But you saw the way his jaw tensed slightly. The way his hand hovered just a second too long before plunging the spoon back into the milk. He looked up only when the laughter swelled again, and with the most practiced casualness, shoved a spoonful of soggy marshmallows into his mouth.

You glanced down at your own bowl, watching as the marshmallows drifted aimlessly, softening at the edges, bleeding their artificial colors into the milk in soft pinks and greens and blues. They didn’t look real. Like tiny ghosts of something sweet you’d never let yourself want.

A pang stirred in your chest.

Not because of the marshmallows. Not even because of the retreat. But because this was a rare moment–an opportunity to offer him something, anything, that didn’t come off as cold or standoffish. Something that didn’t feel like a wall.

You hadn’t meant for your past interactions with Bob to be sharp. But they had been. Unintentionally. A result of instinct, of fear, of that constant need to protect others from you, and maybe to protect yourself from what you knew you couldn’t have.

You let out a soft sigh, and reached out before you could talk yourself out of it, tapping on the counter in front of him. He had flinched, almost like you had reached out and smacked him. It was the smallest jerk in his shoulder but you saw it. His eyes flicked over to yours, wide and uncertain, like maybe he didn’t believe you were actually trying to get his attention.

“Do you want these?” You whispered, nodding towards your bowl. His eyebrows drew together, confused at your offer, and at the fact you were the one speaking first, when it had always been him to do that. Bob, stumbling through conversation starters. Bob, trying to make you smile. Bob, desperately trying to pretend that he wasn’t dreaming about you every night and waking up lonelier than the day before. His blue eyes glanced down at the bowl for a moment, then raised back to yours. You could see the way he was contemplating. There wasn’t calculation behind his eyes, there was conflict, like he couldn’t tell if this was real, or if he’d finally blurred the line between the waking world and the place where he only ever touched you in dreams.

You watched his mouth part–just barely, like he wanted to say really solid yes, but instead he gave a small nod.

And then–barely audible–he whispered, “Y-Yeah…I mean…If you don’t w-want them of course.” You shook your head at him, then without a word, you slid the bowl toward him. The motion was smooth and steady, but Bob noticed everything. He saw the subtle tension in your shoulders, the way your gloved fingers were barely touching the bowl, like you thought he was going to try to touch you, even the look on your face was telling him that you thought he was going to do something.

He swallowed, sitting up a little straighter, feeling his stomach twisting, as he met you halfway and dragged the bowl away from you, pulling it close to him.

Bob was going to say something, not anything huge, just something that could keep the interaction going.

But before he could get any words out–

”Wait, wait, wait, hold on–we’re all sleeping in the same room?!” Yelena's voice cut across the kitchen like a record scratch. That sentence alone made the both of you draw your attention back to what was happening, surprised by the new information.

”It’s a small cabin,” Bucky said flatly, “One open concept floor. Living room turns into a sleeping area, so bring your own blanket.”

“Oh, this is just great,” Walker muttered, “Can’t wait to wake up to Alexei’s snoring…”

”I do not snore.” Alexei replied.

Bob tuned out of the conversation after hearing the fact that you would all be shoved into one room together to sleep. He could feel a pit of dread settling in his stomach, because he knew what that meant for you. What it would feel like to be surrounded by everyone, pressed into a shared space with no safety net, and no room for distance. He could already see the cogs turning in your head, like the weekend was a minefield and you were the innocent person dropped in the middle of it to try and navigate around the impossible.

Even worse though–he knew what it would mean for him, if he had to fall asleep knowing you were just a few feet away. Close enough to touch. Close enough to hear you breathe. Close enough that when he opened his eyes he would see you, after spending the entire night dreaming of you. It made him ill, and he didn’t know how the hell he was going to handle it when the time came.

———————

The night before the trip, everyone had gathered in the common room to sort out who was bringing what, how many bags were going to fit in the back of the van, who was on snack duty, and who was going to sit where. It had been a loud, chaotic and predictably annoying back and forth, and all you wanted to do was retreat and go to sleep, but you knew that you were going to be a subject that was going to be brought up, so it would be easier to be there.

Bob on the other hand had turned in early.

Said he wasn’t feeling great, a headache according to him. He mentioned he just needed rest.

You overheard him murmur it to Yelena when she passed him in the hallway, and she didn’t push for any information, she just gave him a nod and let him go. It was something that he was doing frequently these days, ducking out of night events to go to bed, and there was always a convenient excuse for him. It was either a headache, lack of sleep, or just not feeling good, and it got him out of everything, including this conversation.

“Okay, okay!” Bucky exclaimed, raising his voice just enough to cut through the arguing, “Even if everyone brings only one bag, we’re still going to be short on space in the van. So we need to figure out how to get everyone there safely without anything happening.” There was a pause in the chatter, the kind that signaled the shift that you were anticipating–the part where you became the logistical variable.

Nobody said your name though.

Instead, there was some fumbling. Alexei muttered something about using the roof racks to tie Walker up onto it. Ava agreed with the suggestion. And Yelena was looking at you out of the corner of her eye like she was waiting for you to offer a solution before anyone else tried to come up with one on your behalf.

”I can drive myself…I have my car,” You said, eyes glancing down at the laminated packing list in your lap, “I can just meet all of you there.” You added. There was a small shift in the atmosphere, like you had immediately taken the tension out of the room. Bucky looked up from the clipboard he was holding, his expression unreadable but focused.

“Thank you, Y/N. That helps more than you realize…But we still won’t have enough space to fit everyone comfortably, would you be able to take someone else with you?” Your eyes flicked up to him.

”Sure.” Bucky bit the inner side of his cheek, like he was contemplating who he was going to send with you. Knowing that you would have final say regardless of the suggestion he gave.

”Would you be able to take…Bob?”

For a moment, all you could think about was how Bob had looked that morning when you offered him your marshmallows. The way he hesitated, and flinched when you tapped the counter, the way his eyes lingered on your gloves.

You thought about how he didn’t look at you again after that, and it made your throat tighten slightly.

Not because you were offended…But because it hurt.

Because there was something about Bob Reynolds that made your chest ache in ways you didn’t know how to soothe. Something about his silence–gentle, tentative, never invasive–that made you feel seen even when you couldn’t be touched. And the worst part was knowing that he wanted to. Not just physically. Not just a hand on your wrist or a brush of fingers. But all of it. The closeness. The company. The conversation that didn’t come laced with protocols.

That’s why you tried to build walls around you as much as possible…Because you knew Bob would never try to scale them. He respected you too much to ignore the rules. Yet you still found yourself thinking that one day he would try to cross the line.

”That’s fine.” You said. It came out even, and controlled, but inside you were anything but.

Bucky gave you a small nod and marked it down with the click of his pen. The others went back to their tasks, but your fingers were stiff against your lap–your gloves creasing every so faintly from how tightly you were gripping the paper.

You left the room not long after, and nobody stopped you.

————-

The next morning came quickly.

Your bag was already packed, and your car was fully prepared for the ride up. You had checked yourself–the gas tank was full, the heat was working, and the backseat was empty. You even shifted the passenger seat back to accommodate Bob’s knees so he didn’t slam them into the glove compartment when he stepped in.

The sky was still a dull blue-gray when you stepped outside, and you could see your breath puffing out in front of you in soft white clouds. The compound behind you was buzzing faintly with the chaos of people double-checking their bags and fighting over seat assignment, but out here in the quietness of the early morning, it almost felt peaceful.

You stood by your car, leaning against the driver’s side door, gloved fingers curled around your thermos. You took slow sips of your coffee–not because you needed it, but because the warmth gave you something to focus on–a distraction from the impending drive. It was only going to be three hours, but you could tell it would be the longest three hours you had ever experienced.

Each passing second was a breath you didn’t want to admit you were holding. Part of you hoped Bob wouldn’t show up–that he would decide last-minute to ride in the van instead and send someone else, to spare you both the awkwardness of being locked in such a small space with nothing but music, the road, and the weight of every unspoken thing between you.

But the other part of you–the one buried deep beneath layers of self-preservation and fear–hoped he would. Hoped he would sit in your passenger seat and glance over at you, and maybe this time…He wouldn’t look away.

The front doors of the compound hissed open.

You didn’t have to look to know it was him. You felt it. The shift. That subtle pressure in your chest like gravity had tilted slightly in his direction. You turned your head just enough to catch him walking across the lot, backpack slung low over his shoulder and a tupperware container cradled in his arms. His hoodie was pulled over his head, and his coat was zipped all the way up, making him look smaller than usual despite the broadness of his shoulders.

He spotted you and slowed.

Bob always slowed when he saw you. Like he needed an extra second to brace himself.

He adjusted the container in his grip and gave a shy, uncertain wave. You lifted your thermos in return.

”Morning,” You said quietly.

”Morning,” He echoed, voice hoarse like he hadn’t spoken to anyone yet today, “I uh…I brought that banana bread that I made yesterday evening. It’s not…I mean. It’s not good, but Yelena tried it last night and didn’t die, so…” You let out a small breath, as a smirk slowly tugged up on your lips.

”Low bar, but I guess it’ll do.” That made him laugh a bit, like he was a little embarrassed, but it was something. He moved towards the passenger door, shifting from foot to foot. You reached into your pocket, clicked the fob and unlocked the doors.

”I adjusted the seat already for you,” You mentioned, opening your own door, slipping in and putting your thermos into the cup holder, while he did the same on his side, “Didn’t want you cramped the whole drive.” You added, when he was able to hear you.

”Oh…Uh…Thanks.” He said after a beat, sliding his backpack off his shoulder, before easing himself into the seat beside you, and shutting the door. The quiet that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it settled between you like mist–thick with things that neither of you wanted to say to one another. You didn’t look at him right away. You focused on adjusting the heat, on clicking your seatbelt into place, on the scrape of your thermos as you nudged it deeper into the cup holder. Anything to keep your hands busy.

But the air had already changed.

The moment he sat down, you could feel it. The warmth of his body chased out the cold that had lingered in the space all morning. He smelled like laundry soap and something sweet–vanilla, maybe. Cinnamon. The faintest trace of sleep still clung to him, and something about that undid you a little. He had clearly just rolled out of bed, eyes still rimmed with the softness of sleep, his hair slightly mussed beneath his hood.

And worse–there was a part of you that wanted to lean closer, just to breathe him in.

Bob didn’t move much, but you could feel the tension radiating off him. His shoulders were rigid, like he was afraid to take up too much space. His hands stayed clasped around the tupperware in his lap, like he needed something to hold onto–some anchor to keep him from saying something he shouldn’t. Like, I dreamt about you again last night. Like, You touched my face and nothing happened. Like, I don’t know how to sit next to you now without wanting things I can’t ask for.

“Did you sleep well?” You asked quietly, putting the car in drive, almost like you were asking for him to tell him about what he had been dreaming about, “I heard you mention to Yelena that you weren’t feeling too well.” Bob looked over at you fast, like he hadn’t expected you to say anything to him for the drive. He was thankful that the hoodie over his head hid his flushed ears, but his face wasn’t shielded from your gaze, and you could see the way the red creeped up on his cheeks.

”Uh…Yeah. Yeah I slept well…Feeling much better.” You nodded once, lips pressing together in a way that wasn’t quite a smile, nor a frown. You didn’t believe him, not fully at least. His voice was too soft, and too careful, like he was picking his words carefully. And maybe that’s what hurt you the most–how gentle he was even when he was lying.

“Oh. Good.” You said simply, eyes fixated on the road ahead as you pressed on the gas, pulling out of the parking lot. Bob sank into the passenger seat, still tasting the ghost of your name on his tongue from the dream he’d barely left behind.

The field had been brighter last night. You laughed at something he said. The kind of laugh that made him feel like the world wasn’t so sharp anymore. Like maybe it didn’t hurt to breathe when you were near. You’d touched his face in the dream–cupped his cheek like he was breakable and safe all at once–and he’d felt it linger long after his eyes opened. He was surprised you didn’t notice how red his eyes were from crying, but then again why would you be concerned with that.

Now he sat here, beside the real you, and he couldn’t even meet your eyes for more than a second.

You glanced at him, catching the way he clutched the tupperware container like it was the only thing anchoring him to the moment, the way he fiddled with the edges, the nervous twitching he always did that you couldn’t help but notice. It was one of his many tells that something was bothering him, but you didn’t push, your eyes just returned to what was in front of you.

The highway stretched ahead like a ribbon of grey silk, unraveling beneath your tires. The sun hadn’t quite risen yet, and the pale light bleeding through the windshield was casting a bluish tint over Bob’s face. You kept your eyes on the road, but you could feel his presence like heat on your skin.

“You really didn’t have to bring anything,” You murmured after a stretch of quiet, nodding toward the banana bread.

Bob looked over at you quickly, then back down at the container like it had surprised him to still be there. “I… I just thought it might be nice. For the cabin. It’s dumb, but I—uh—sometimes baking helps when I can’t sleep.”

Your grip on the wheel tightened slightly. “It’s not dumb to want to do something nice…I wasn’t saying it to be…Cold or anything. It’s just a nice thing to do.”

He looked at you then. Really looked. Just for a moment. And for the first time in what felt like ages, you looked at him.

A breath passed between you. Heavy. Loaded.

But it didn’t last. Bob glanced back down at the container again and shifted in his seat. The tension in his shoulders softened marginally, and you could tell the lull of the ride was beginning to get to him. The rhythm of the road, the warmth of the heater. You caught the slow, unconscious twitch of his fingers against the plastic lid before he rested the tupperware gently on the floor by his feet and leaned his head back against the headrest.

“I think…I’m going to close my eyes for a bit,” He said, voice barely above a whisper.

“Are you alright?” You asked, concerned about the sudden change in his demeanor.

“Yeah…J-Just tired.” He murmured, his lashes fluttering once before settling. You didn’t push. You didn’t ask if he was sure. You just adjusted the heat a little higher and turned the radio down low, giving him the space he always gave you.

The car fell into a soft hush, broken only by the low hum of the engine and the distant thump of tires over uneven pavement. Bob’s breathing slowed next to you. Gradually. Unevenly at first. Then steadily.

And then it was silent.

Until.

“…Y/N.”

Your name. Whispered like a secret. Like a prayer.

It wasn’t loud, but it wasn’t quiet either. Just clear enough to freeze your hands on the wheel.

You glanced over at him, and his face was tilted toward you now, not fully, but just enough to expose the vulnerability in his features. His brows were drawn slightly together, lips parted, and the softest tremble lingered on the edge of them–like he was mid-sentence in a conversation he couldn’t have while awake.

“…M-Miss y-you.” You didn’t mean to slam on the brakes.

Technically you didn’t–but your foot did twitch hard enough on the pedal to make the car lurch slightly, just enough that your coffee sloshed in the cupholder and Bob stirred in the passenger seat with a soft grunt. But he didn’t wake–not fully. He just shifted his head slightly against the seat, curling further toward the door like he was bracing himself for something, the way someone does when they expect to wake up heartbroken.

You stared at him for a long, stunned second. Your fingers had gone numb around the wheel. You weren’t even sure you were breathing. All you knew was you had to pull over to try and regain some sense of stability before continuing, because your thoughts were derailing and spinning out of control.

You pulled off to the shoulder as smoothly as you could, but your hands were trembling too much to hide it. The car dipped slightly as it slowed to a crawl, the crunch of gravel beneath your tires filling the sudden silence now that the radio had gone quiet. You didn’t turn the engine off. You didn’t unbuckle your seatbelt. You just sat there, staring at your own reflection in the faint gleam of the windshield, breathing like someone who’d just run a marathon.

Bob shifted again beside you in his sleep, brow creasing like he was trying to hold onto something—some fragile thread of whatever dream he was caught inside. But all you could hear was your name, still echoing softly in the air between you.

Y/N.

Miss you.

Your throat tightened so hard it hurt.

Because no one missed you. Not like that.

You didn’t let them.

You couldn’t.

Not when the cost of closeness was something you couldn’t afford. One wrong brush of skin, one slip in control, one heartbeat too fast, one lapse of judgment–and everything you cared about could shatter. You had spent years learning how to exist at arm’s length, how to keep every tender instinct buried beneath gloves, sleeves, distance, and detachment. You had become an expert at denial. At convincing yourself that loneliness was better than guilt.

But Bob Reynolds–quiet, sweet, trembling Bob–was dreaming about you like you were something he had lost. Like he’d had you once. Touched you once. Held you once.

And the worst part? You believed him.

Because deep in your bones, somewhere beneath the power that was humming like electricity in your bloodstream, you felt it. That dream wasn’t just a dream. You knew what it felt like when someone’s subconscious pressed into your atmosphere–when they wanted you so badly that even your powers couldn’t keep them out. And if he’d been dreaming of you enough, if he’d carried that version of you with him night after night…There was a chance his dreams had reached into yours too.

That would explain the phantom warmth you sometimes woke up with. The laughter you’d hear in your sleep and never understand. The way your chest had started to ache when he walked into a room.

“Oh my god…” You breathed, so softly it barely counted as sound.

Your gloved hand hovered, trembling slightly, before you set it down in your lap again. You couldn’t reach out. You wouldn’t. But your heart was thudding so violently in your chest now that you could feel it behind your eyes.

You turned to look at him again.

His lashes were still down, mouth parted slightly in sleep, but the edges of his expression were laced with pain. It wasn’t rest he was getting–it was longing. A quiet, desperate kind. And if you listened carefully, you could hear the tiniest whisper leave his mouth again–like a plea caught in the middle of a storm.

“…Don’t go…Please d-don’t go.”

And your heart broke into a million pieces, because as much as you wanted to reach out to comfort him, there would be no use. It would only draw you in deeper, and somehow you would end up losing him, and that was something you couldn’t risk, something you wouldn’t risk. Bob was part of your constant whether you liked it or not, but you couldn’t be what he needed, or what he wanted, not with the powers you held, and you knew that right from the start.

You just didn’t realize how hard it would be to suppress everything and bury it, but now was just the beginning of the pain.

[bluetimeombre]

: ̗̀➛ The Paul Mescal school of yearning

You and Pedro had stared in the Last of Us together, and now he cannot stop talking about you at any chance given, very much similar to another friend of his…

[Pedro Pascal is my love and my life and has been for a while now, idk what anyone else has told you but we’re very happy together. Anyway, this is a little thing I created cause don’t we all want to be wanted the way Paul wants Daisy?!] daddy references, language, fem reader, not proof read

ᴘᴇᴅʀᴏᴘᴀꜱᴄᴀʟɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀᴏɴᴇꜰᴀɴ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇꜱ: ɴᴏ ʙᴜᴛ ꜰʀ ᴘᴇᴅʀᴏ ᴘᴀꜱᴄᴀʟ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀᴜʟ ᴍᴇꜱᴄᴀʟ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ᴏꜰ ʏᴇᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴄᴜᴛ !!!

↪️ -

Yourusername: The Last of Us, out now. If you’ve ever liked me, you’ll go give it some love

1.1 m likes // 7.8k comments // 🏷️pascalispunk

urfan: obsessed

peoplelover: oh she getting that Emmy

pedroisloveislife: THE LAST OF US?!?

urfriend: ❤️

pedroishot: u and pedro are going to kill me

fanista: this is gonna break me

pascalbemine: mother is mothering!!!

pascalispunk: I’ll watch it cause I like you

↪️ yourusername: I appreciate that

↪️↪️ pascalispunk: and because pedro pascal is in it

↪️↪️↪️ yourusername: actually he got cut

↪️↪️↪️↪️ pascalispunk: 😦😦

-

pascalispunk: The Last of us with some of my favourite people. Give it some love

1.9 m likes // 101k comments

user101: cannon that pedro doesn't know what tagging is

y/nfan: that's y/n in the third picture, i know it

pedroismyman: he's so daddy

personcha: daddy

bellaisqueen: daddy is a state of mind

y/nluver: y/n took the last pictures, i scream as they drag me into the asylum

pascalandy/n: the flowers!! i need him

youryousername liked this post

↪️↪️ -

~ y/nbiggestgurl: guys!!! @yourusername and @pascalispunk at the a Stevie Nicks concert, I don’t know who I want to be more!!!!

↪️↪️↪️ - Pascalisinlove:

Everyone saying Pedro and Y/N are just friends when all of this exists:

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ ▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။• play video

'Do you ever look at instagram accounts devoted to you being a heartthrob when you’re feeling down ?'

'Yes, I do,' Pedro immediately burst into laughter.

'What’s your favourite account?'

‘It’s called Pedropascalfanaccount,' he chuckled to himself again, eyes squeezing shut. He regained himself in time. 'Y/N runs that account.'

There was silence in which he tried not to laugh again.

'Does she think you’re a heartthrob?'

Pedro cringed. 'I hope.'

comments:

but this is so normal pedro behaviour

I love Pedro and Y/N together sm, i hope the rumours are true

He's so daddy, need him

Y/N Pascal, I am here for it

↪️↪️↪️↪️ Pascalisinlove:

'K but Pedro Pascal is like this with all his costars.' Pedro being close with Y/N like any other costar:

These headlines:

↪️↪️↪️↪️↪️

One of my favourite moments- y/npascal11

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ ▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။• play video

The camera's caught you and Pedro standing next to each other as the interview progressed onto how you all bonded on set of the Last of us. She suggested, off-handily, karaoke.

Pedro leaned into the microphone. 'I hate karaoke.'

You chuckled, giving your own answer. 'I'd have loved karaoke, it's quite fun.'

Everyone lost their minds at how Pedro flustered, waving his hands around and desperately grabbing for the microphone. 'I don't mind karaoke, I don't mind it,' he quickly redeemed himself. Everyone loved how he was looking to you for approval. 'With the right company, it can be great- oh, we should go.'

Everyone watching the video lost their minds at how quick an opinion change he had as soon as he realised you liked it.

'We should!' you chuckle, playing along.

The video then played every other interview clip that could be found of Pedro expressing dislike for karaoke. He hated it. But as soon as you said you liked it his whole mind set was changed.

User101: he’s in love omg!!

User102: the way he looks at her

User33: omg internet mommy and internet daddy!!?!

- ⤵️

Pedropascalnumberonefan: this interview is what started it all, the way Paul just brings up Daisy and Pedro can’t stop talking about Y/N!!

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ ▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။• play video

Pedro and the rest of the cast of Gladitor II sat together, each taking turns holding cards and asking questions, how well do they all know one another.

Paul and Pedro seemed to be having their own competition, privately wanting to beat each other. But whilst privately competing they hadn’t realised just what they were saying:

"Who is my favourite actor?" Pedro asked, biting the lid of the pen off.

Joesph Quinn stroked the boldness of his head. "It’s me right?"

"That you’re my favourite actor?"

"Yeah- you said that to me once."

"I said that you were special," corrected Pedro, grinning to himself before laughing at his own joke. "And special can mean a lot of things."

"Marlon Brando?" Connie suggested.

"Harrison Ford?" Was another by Freddy.

And just as Pedro was gonna accept that answer, Paul said your name.

"Y/n! It’s y/n, y/n!"

Pedro’s grin split his cheeks as he turned his board and showed everyone your scribbled name, a heart jotted down next to it.

Pedro didn’t even care he’d just supplied the fans, he cared he got a point- going for a high five that nobody returned.

And if Pedro and Paul were in a competition for who could name their girls the most, Pedro had the lead very quickly as when Connie was up, asking:

"What is my favourite curse word in Danish?"

Pedro went in with ‘fuck’ which was wrong. Then he tried again with Bastard but he told himself off with that one, mumbling a:

"No that’s y/n’s favourite."

Next to him, Paul laughed.

But Paul came swinging back in the game when Joseph asked:

"What actor do I get mistaken for?"

The question had hardly left his lips when Paul erupted-

"Daisy Edgar Jones! Sometimes,"

"Um, no."

Userp12: PLS!! Jo shut him down so quick

User89: guys this is hilarious

User69: not even ten seconds in and we got a Daisy and Y/n mention

PaulMescalboy: k but do you think Paul is so mad cause Pedro stay winning, like has everyone SEEN the SNL videos

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ ▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။• play video

Everyone had seen the SNL videos. Not only had you and Pedro done a sketch to express how he is internet Daddy and you were internet Mommy looking after all your children, but then a tiktok had gone viral.

You were walking the red carpet with your assistant, the flashing lights adding to the glamour you carried in every step when you brushed by Pedro.

At first everyone was talking about how they were sure your hand was purposely grazing his ass but then everyone's jaw dropped with how you dragged your hand over the back of his neck. It was such a simple move, so nonchalant that you didn't even look as you did it.

Pedro looked.

Pedro grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it as if there weren't a hundred camera's on the pair of you.

Pedro looked at you like you'd hung the very moon.

He pulled you into him, leaving the microphone to grab you and hug you. Maybe he'd abandon the whole thing just to follow after you like a lost puppy.

But he'd left the microphone and the people in front of their phones with a deep need for love like Pedro loved you. When he muttered a small 'Dios mío'.

-

↪️

Y/nupdates: but do you all remember that time Pedro and Y/N were caught looking after her nephew together BEFORE FILMING FOR THE LAST OF US EVEN BEGAN!! UR HONOUR ITS ALWAYS BEEN THEM

-

↪️↪️

"You really facetime people a lot," said Bella, as they were on camera, discussing The Last of Us and what it was like on set.

Pedro laughed. "Let's facetime someone."

"Y/n?" asked Bella. They didn't even need to take another guess, Pedro's cheeky grin telling all just who he would be face-timing.

"Lets see if she answers me this time," he mumbled as he got your contact up.

Bella continued adding fuel to the fire. "I feel like every time I came into the tent on set, if you weren't with her on set, you'd be talking to her over the phone."

"Oh come on, don't exaggerate- she calls me!" said Pedro, furrowing his brows at the phone screen as he watched your name flicker on his phone. The camera's picked up the scrunch of his face as did Bella.

"You always do that face as well!" Bella pointed out. "When you start a face time call- you always do a little smoulder!"

Pedro chuckled. "I can't see!"

His head snapped down to his phone when the ringing had stopped and you'd picked up his call. He grinned and cheered.

"What the fuck do you want?" you playfully yelled down the phone as Pedro laughed, showing you Bella and showing you off to the camera.

-

↪️↪️↪️

User1: If Pedro went to the Paul school of yearning then Y/N went to the Daisy school of avoiding the damn question.

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ ▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။• play video

The video played you in your own lie detector test, similar to how Pedro had once been subjected to.

"People call you the mother of the internet," said the lady behind the camera.

You nodded and waited for the rest of it to come.

She slid a picture of Pedro over to you and your cheeks immediately went red. "Is this man your daddy?"

The camera caught you trying to keep it together but you started to laugh, hiding your face as you clearly didn't want the camera's to pick up your blush or your heart rate. "Oh geez- um," you hesitated, but picked up the picture of him. "My god his eyes are gorgeous. I think-"

"True," said the man officiating the lie detector test.

"Thank you," you quickly threw his way before addressing the question. "I think he's everyone's daddy, yeah."

"But is he your daddy?" she repeated.

You tried to think of a way to play it and yet nothing came to mind. "I plead the fifth."

-

You laughed as you finished the video and read the article’s accompanying it and even went back to look at the pictures.

You felt like a fan of yourself and Pedro as you stared at all the evidence on your phone.

Perhaps the most incriminating bit of evidence was the man stirring next to you.

"What have you been laughing about over there?" Mumbled Pedro as his arm wrapped back around your waist, tugging you closer to him again.

You cuddle in, abandoning your phone to the side. "Oh you know, just how much you love me."

Pedro knew immediately as he grumbled, hiding himself in the soft skin of your neck. "That damn video again?"

[I hope you enjoy!! Let me know if you’d like any more Pedro,]

[charmed-asylum]

Running a my pants down to my ankles ahhhh lord omg I know I had idea of how it was gonna go but I just want it dramatically throw it out the window or flip a table bc that’s how it felt reading it I was ready but damn again u got me out the blueeeeee. Ahhhhhhh girl idk how and when and where to start.

Let’s start with the getting ready for this par tay now u mention something on the line of take your beta blockers what do u mean and why that. Now I double check this ain’t no beta alpha omega story so that a play on words for her anxiety pills ( I know doechii anxiety song playing in my head right now) but yeah what that I need to know lol please and thank u I wonder how often even though she doesn’t like going does she have to go bc of viv love of it. That being said can you maybe give me an idea of w makeup how she was looking I have ideas im just wondering if it’s matching bc I bet when Rafe saw her it wasn’t matching what he was thinking but then again viv was talking about her mouse friend so how do we know and AND she the one who talk her into doing on so again I got a lot of red string and no straight lines !!!! But back to the story I love how u slowly intro everyone into the fold because it’s a nice easy way interwoven everything. And I love it. Oh oh oh . I love she enjoy her self now I see she didn’t do any keg stand but it was fun to read lol . I wonder what Rafe was doing during the party a POV in his head. U know. I love viv and reader relationships even tho people looking outside looking in would be like wtf that strange and weird it makes so much sense and I love it . They like perfect mix. And while she all about fun I love she very protective of reader like yazz turn around w a jump yazz

Back to where I was a few minutes ago of I feel like bestie in turning red

Even as it is they seem to just talk so chill irl as they did on line and again like I wonder I wonder reader it’s who she is but Rafe I’m shock he didn’t u know try or be like the others or Caleb and flirt but was chill like no we gonna take u away and talk and be normal . And he just smitten by her so bad oh my god I can’t give me more lol

Abhhhh girl girl girl mmm mmm mmm if only she wasn’t drunk but u bet Rafe kn…. HE DID HE DID THE LAST PART CONFIRMED IT OMG OMG I CANT CALM DOWN IM FREAKING OUT VIV SAVE THEM N SHE GOT HIS CAP I wonder if Rafe gonna see her just bc of that cap

─── YOU'VE GOT MAIL .ᐟ

...or the first time they meet.

★ pairing.ᐟ frat!rafe x nerd!reader

★ summary.ᐟ rafe cameron is the golden boy of kildare university; certified frat boy, captain of the football team, relentless party animal with lines of girls to sleep with.

reader couldn't be more different; while she has the best grades in the whole school, she suffers from social anxiety disorder, and her social life is limited to her three best friends and the cat she secretly snuck into her dorm room.

both of them decide to join the anonymous chatroom for their campus, and start talking to one another, a friendship starting to form between the two; but neither of them know how different the other is.

★ author's note.ᐟ not much chatting in this part but rafe and reader finally meet! vivian parker thank you for being the comedic relief and extrovert friend this series and reader needs.

YOU'VE GOT MAIL!

"are you sure this isn't too much?" you asked as you stood in front of the body-length mirror, looking at the skin-tight black dress that was basically the least amount of fabric you'd ever had on your body; including a towel, your tits basically bursting out of it and calling out for freedom.

"come on, it's sexy." vivian hummed as she took another chug out of her white claw, her hands snaking around you waist, the girl wearing a matching dress, just in baby pink, "you're just not used to looking hot, that's all."

"hey!" you chide, "i wear hot things."

"like that maxi skirt with all the flowers? c'mon, you didn't even show a bit of ankle." vivian grinned, pulling away from you, grabbing a mini-bottle of fireball from her bag and handing it to you, a small grimace on your face, "just down your beta blockers with this and you'll be good."

you took the orange pill bottle you kept at your bedside, twisting the cap off and shaking two pills into the palm of your hand, before cracking the cap off the bottle of fireball, you downed the cinnamon whiskey without thinking, shooting the two white pills into your mouth, washing the slightly tingling liquid into down with your medication.

"atta girl!" vivian grinned and clapped her pink, manicured hands together as you felt warmth creeping up your neck to your face, letting out a squeal when you felt the palm of viv's hand make contact with your ass in the form of a smack. "now, let me do your makeup."

"i'm still pissed you insisted on... that." vivian noted, referring to the long, dark green cardigan you'd worn over the dress she basically put on you as she took another sip out of her flask, offering it to you. when you accepted, you took a sip and nearly immediately coughed it out when you realized it was vodka, a grimace on your face, "i mean, you're supposed to look hot."

"dancing on a table and popping a titty in front of a bunch of random frat boys is definitely hot and wouldn't make me the subject of ridicule for the next year." you chuckled sarcastically, still trying to gain your bearings on the four-inch heels your friend had insisted you wear, feeling the slight burn of the vodka at the back of your throat.

"... alright, that's a low blow. it was freshman year."

it wasn't long enough until the frat house for the infamous sigma phi came to view, music blaring so loudly you knew you couldn't be able to even hear your thoughts inside, a few people outside chatting. vivian took your hand in hers, tugging you closer to it until you were both at the entrance.

"wow, viv!" one of the frat guys standing at the door exclaimed, looking your best friend up and down, "didn't think you'd show up. you-know-who's been bitching about you all night." the boy's words causing an exasperated groan to leave your friend, before his eyes trailed to you, the tall brunette looking at you up and down as if you were his next meal while you crossed your arms in front of your chest as if to pull into yourself, lowering your gaze, "who's this?"

"that's my best friend." vivian's arm snaked around your waist and tugged you into her, "and if you try anything with her, caleb, i'm gonna scratch your eyes out until there's nothing left but holes. y'know i'm capable of it." she winked.

"don't i know it." the boy, caleb, tsked, cocking his head to the side and shaking it, before turning back to vivian, "shame. be sure to show some girl-on-girl action later, yeah?" he winked, less smoothly than vivian.

your best friend rolled her eyes, tugging you by your hand into the kitchen, "ignore him. ignore most of these guys. they're dicks." vivian carelessly poured vodka and a small splash of diet coke into two red solo-cups, a breath of a chuckle leaving your lips when you realized it reminded you of all those high school/college party movies you'd seen. "here's to girl-on-girl action." vivian snorted, holding up her cup and handing you yours, "and if you don't chug it down, i'm telling everyone you like to sniff your socks after using them."

you laugh, rolling your eyes as you let the top of your cup make contact with vivian's, "cheers." you mumble, knowing the girl couldn't even hear it over all the commotion, only following her lead as you took the cup to your lips and downed the liquid down your throat, ignoring the searing taste of vodka that was poorly masked by the coke, a slight trail dripping from your mouth down your chin.

"whooo!" vivian shook her head of long, pink locks, looking to you with a grin as she grabbed your now-empty cup, already starting to refill both of them, and as soon as they were full once again, she pulled you to make your way through the crowds of sweaty people grinding against each other.

honestly, you were starting to understand why people drank. your head felt so empty of everything, of worries, of thoughts, of anything that usually plagued, haunted you. all you could focus on was swaying your body and bobbing your head along to the music. that was, until you noticed that your best friend was nowhere to be seen. you might've been drunk, but you were sober enough to worry.

"vivian?" you called out, your lips twisted into a pout as you took a sip from your drink, wandering through the vast hallways of the fraternity house, the floor underneath you shaking with the force of the bass. "viv, this isn't funny."

you took out your phone, your head down as you were going through your contacts in search of the contact 'pink slut ♡' (affectionately set by your best friend), only to feel the top of your head hit something solid. you let out a slight yelp, looking up and seeing a boy who was basically the height of a tree looking down at you.

"you good?" the boy asked with a slightly humorous expression on his face. "yeah. yeah, sorry." you sighed, taking a step back, your lips pursed in thought, "this is probably a long shot, but have you seen vivian parker? girl with pink hair-"

"viv?" the boy sucked in a breath, "yeah, her and topper just went into his room."

"unbelievable." you groaned, putting your phone back into the pocket of your cardigan and running a hand through your hair, "i was supposed to stop her from doing that."

"good luck with that." the boy snorted, taking a swig straight out of a bottle of jack daniels before looking at you up and down, "you're the best friend, right? the mouse?"

"the mouse?"

"y'know, all shy and shit. viv sometimes hangs out with us, and she talks about you guys." he scratched the bridge of his nose with his thumb, "this is a shitty first introduction. i'm rafe." the boy said, and you told him your name, making him nod, "y'wanna go outside for a bit?"

the two of you were sitting on the patio connected to one of the rooms in the frat house, passing the bottle of jack daniels back and forth, the music blasting downstairs almost drowned out.

"are you sure we're allowed to be here?" you asked with a small chuckle, taking a swig out of the bottle before it passing it back to rafe, pulling your cardigan closer to your body. "pretty sure that's someone."

"it is." the boy chuckled, taking a large swig out of the whiskey before placing it down on the space between you two, taking his backwards cap off and fixing his hair before putting the hat back on. "it's my room."

"damn, you're not afraid i'm gonna go rummage through your underwear drawer?" you snorted, rafe letting out a laugh along with you, "you have a lot of trophies. you're on the football team, right? nine?"

"well, i'd like to think i'm at least a nine and a half." rafe grinned, making you roll your eyes and nudge him, "kildare university football captain, at your service."

"maybe you'd be a nine-and-a-half if you didn't wear this ridiculous hat." you grinned, snatching the backwards cap off his head and placing it on yours, only the right way. "this is an awkward moment to tell you i have lice." "that's even better. i can tell people to let me rub my head against theirs for a chance to get one of the bugs that used to live in rafe cameron's scalp."

rafe threw his head forward in laughter, shaking his head before turning to look at you with a smile, "jesus. i can't believe that i actually thought you were like a mouse. your brain is so fucking weird, in the best way possible."

"alcohol lowers your inhibitions and all that crap." you chuckled, "in reality i'm afraid to talk to anyone, let alone some frat god football legend. can't even complain when i get my order wrong."

"frat god." rafe shook his head and looked forward, taking a swig of whiskey. "how come?"

"i've had social anxiety since i was little. i didn't have that many friends when i was a kid, so when i came to college and vivian saw me and decided to adopt me as her introverted friend, it was like a godsend. if it wasn't for her, i'd probably be known as the weird hermit in the corner of the room."

you took in a deep breath, looking up at the stars up in the black midnight sky, and rafe could see them glimmering in your eyes as you quoted, "from childhood's hour i have not been as others were, i have not seen as others saw. i could not bring my passions from a common spring, from the same source i have not taken my sorrow, i could not awaken my heart to joy at the same tone. and all i loved, i loved alone."

"edgar allan poe." rafe said in thought, pursing his lips, and you turned to look at him, eyes slightly wide in surprise, "you read poetry?"

"not usually. but lately i've been getting into poe." rafe said, a fond smile taking over his lips. "it reminds me of someone special."

you looked at him, your mouth opening slightly in surprise, "you have a crush on someone." the boy turned to look at you with wide, blue eyes, "viv was wrong. she basically said you'd never touch commitment with a five foot pole, but you're totally into someone!" you softly smacked his arm, "tell me about her."

rafe rolled his eyes, "it's not a crush. it's just..."

"a girl who you can't stop thinking about, who you read poetry for, who you get all blushy and smiley when you talk about her... that's a crush, my guy."

rafe shook his head and took a large swig of whiskey, "she's... special."

"so whipped. that's a good thing. i'm pretty sure i'm gonna have to bribe someone to marry me by giving him a piece of what's basically an atomic bomb that my mad-scientist father created and left to his kids when he passed." you snorted.

"calm down angela hoenikker." the boy chuckled and shook his head, "cat's cradle. a classic."

you were about to express your surprise at rafe's knowledge of kurt vonnegut, only for the patio door to be opened, revealing a familiar pink-haired girl, pulling her white fur-coat closer to her body, strapping one of her heels on "whew, there you are." she sighed, "we gotta get out of dodge. topper's trying to ask me what we are and i said i'd answer after i get out of the bathroom."

you snorted, standing up and brushing off your skirt, "guess that's my cue." you looked to the boy who'd stood up with you, "thanks for the drinks. and the company."

"you too. get back safe, mouse."

"sleep well, lover boy. dream of your special girl." you saluted rafe with a small smile, the boy shaking his head as you and vivian left him on the patio, making your way inside, starting to make your way out of the party.

and only when you were halfway on your way to the dorm did vivian purse her lips, looking at your head, "what the hell is that?" the girl's words immediately making you remember snatching rafe's hat, "it's a souvenir. now let's get you to bed."

when you finally got to your dorm and to bed with vivian snoring blissfully next to you, you took your phone out, pulling up KILDAREUCHATS and messaging MalachiConstant.

YOU: alright, i admit it. i actually had a good night.

the response came almost immediately.

MalachiConstant: i told you that you would. i'm glad you did.

YOU: goodnight, vonnegut boy.

MalachiConstant: sweet dreams, poe girl. dream of me.

TAGLIST: @yktayy9669 @tinythebunni @dywho @melalsworld @akobx @samwinchesterisawhore @st8rkey @jjasmiineee @ltristessedureratoujours @a-lovers-card @uselessnewt @lunaleah @letstryagaintomorrow @cinnamqnnlatte @papapoy @kay133sposts @wtfisastiles @butterfly1c @emmiesummers @melodyyybubbles @toomanywhitelies @littl3loveydovey @scne-vampire @alwaysmaybank @mysticbby2009 @luna443 @drewstarkeyswife-7 @flowerluvr @kisselxoll - cont. in com.

[dakusan]

How skz texts you when you're upset

stray kids ot8 x reader | comfort, emotional support, quiet love, soft boys with warm hearts

🌙 synopsis: you're not alone. not ever. eight boys, eight different ways of showing up when the world feels too loud. some send you memes. some send you playlists. some just send a quiet “i’m here.” when you're unraveling at the seams, they don't ask you to hold it together. they hold you instead—in texts, in voice notes, in the silence between words. this isn't about fixing you. it's about loving you exactly as you are—soft, sad, and still worth everything.

💌 a/n: hi hello yes. i promise i have a job (whilst looking for a new one) but i am also a girl with free time and nothing to do, so i write for you people. plus, i just think everyone deserves to be comforted like this, okay?? anyway. if you’ve had a hard day, I hope this felt like a warm hoodie straight from the dryer. or like… a text that says “u up?” but emotionally stable. as always, thank you for reading my little delusions 💗 p.s. i know it’s a short one but like... short and sweet, right?? i hope it’s sweet??? idk anymore 😭 p.p.s. YES I KNOW MY PIC AESTHETICS ARE WEIRD AND DON’T MATCH OR WHATEVER I’M TRYING… I SEE THE VISION IN MY HEAD OKAY THE EXECUTION JUST BE SUFFERING. leave me alone. smh. p.p.p.s no, i haven't made any songs to match this vibe. lmfao, soz •ᴖ•

📍credits: @cafekitsune for the dividers

🎶 Now Playing: "Star Lost" — Stray Kids

Bang Chan // 방찬 the gentle leader energy

[3:14PM] Hey, angel. I know today’s rough. I won’t push, but I’m here. Want to hop on call? We can sit in silence or talk, your pace. [3:17PM] You’re not alone in this. I promise. (You wake up to a Lo-fi playlist he made just for you, titled: “for when your heart’s tired”)

Lee Know // 리노 silent acts of care

[4:52PM] What do you need? Be honest. [4:54PM] I can cook. Or just sit with you. Or send you mean messages about the universe. [5:01PM] Here. Cat pics. Instant serotonin. (He drops off warm food at your door with a post-it: “Eat. Or I’ll be annoyed. 😒”)

Changbin // 창빈 aggressively loving

[5:03PM] WHO. UPSET. YOU. [5:04PM] I will fight them. Emotionally. And maybe physically. 👊 [5:07PM] Also… I’m proud of you. For just… being you. (He sends voice notes of him beatboxing silly rhythms with your name mixed in. Pure serotonin.)

Hyunjin // 현진 the poetic soft boy

[2:27PM] It’s okay to crumble sometimes. Even stars need to rest. [2:29PM] You are still whole, even when you don’t feel it. [2:34PM] Do you want a drawing? Or a distraction? I can write you a silly haiku. (You receive a photo of a messy sketchbook page with your initials in soft florals.)

Han // 한 chaotic comfort personified

[3:59PM] I see you’re feeling like 🍞 soggy bread. [4:00PM] BUT GUESS WHAT. YOU’RE MY FAVOURITE TOAST. [4:02PM] I’m gonna spam you with memes until you smile or block me. (He sends 17 voice memos. One is a fake commercial for “Anti-Sadness Spray,” voiced by him in 4 accents.)

Felix // 필릭스 human sunshine, through and through

[1:36PM] Hey, beautiful. I felt something was off today… Do you want hugs, words, or just my presence? [1:40PM] You deserve kindness even when your mind says otherwise. (You get a video of him baking cookies, captioned: “Saving one for you, always.”)

Seungmin // 승민 realist with a warm heart

[6:18PM] I know you think you’re being dramatic. You’re not. [6:21PM] Want comfort or tough love? [6:25PM] You’re handling more than most would. Let yourself feel it. (He sends a carefully curated playlist titled: “not okay, but surviving.”)

I.n // 아이엔 the shy but intuitive one

[5:40PM] Hey… are you okay? You don’t have to answer. Just wanted you to know I care. [5:46PM] Do you want to watch something later? I’ll even pretend not to hate romcoms. [5:49PM] You matter to me. Just… wanted to say that. (You later find out he stayed up playing your comfort game just to send you tips.)

[rasoyas]

ngl y’all i love em but it won’t stop raining 💀

[xjulixred45x]

Wahhhhhh

Your neglected child Yuu was so cute and now I can’t help thinking about the Vices

Trey probably dotes on them a lot. He might even see it as a way to redeem himself for being unable to help Riddle as a kid

Ruggie def has a soft spot for kids and you can fight me on that. Would probably be a great babysitter

Jade… what can I say about Jade. Idk actually

I can’t imagine Jamil would be as gung-ho about brainwashing a child but he’d also definitely want to use Crowley’s favoritism to his advantage

Rook would probably find child Yuu adorable. I can imagine him teaching them how to shoot a tiny little bow (no one knows how he got one)

Ortho and child Yuu bestie supremacy. That’s all I have to say. No it’s not. I imagine Ortho and Yuu would have this whole “discovering the world together dynamic” due to their separate circumstances but they’d also do it together

Lilia would see child Yuu and scoop them up before presenting them to Silver like “new sibling just dropped” especially if he felt they weren’t being properly cared for

Aww, this is so sweet.

Trey goes into dad/big brother mode as soon as he finds out there's a little kid at NRC without parents and, above all, with clear signs of being malnourished. Trey tries to balance giving Yuu lots of sweets and sugary things with healthier options so they doesn't end up with any additional health problems. They've also developed a great habit of cooking together! This way, Trey knows exactly what Yuu likes and dislikes, ensuring he won't have a problem if the kid is picky—we all have our tastes!

Whenever Yuu says something related to the way they was raised or about their parents, Trey can't help but get a strange feeling of nostalgia that makes him feel sick. He tries to keep Yuu from thinking about their parents most of the time, but above all, he tries to be as assertive as possible about the fact that what Yuu's parents did was WRONG, that they're a good kid, that they're not a burden, etc. Basically, he's trying to do what he should have done a long time ago.

Ruggie initially thought Yuu was a lost child, maybe a teacher's kid. He doesn't trust Crowley AT ALL to take care of Yuu, so every time he sees them (be it in the cafeteria or somewhere else), he tries to check on them in a lively way (asking them if they're okay, if they're eaten anything recently, if Crowley is watching them). Yuu likes to be around Ruggie to play; they thinks he's fun, and Ruggie takes it as a compliment.

Ruggie is used to children and can read them well, so he notices something is wrong with Yuu (and at first, he thought Crowley was the culprit). Ruggie tells Yuu that if an adult hurts them, they should go directly to him for help (Leona owes him one, after all). But he calms down and feels bad when Yuu explains about their parents. At least he assures Yuu that they won't have to see them again.

Jade is terrifying to Yuu; whenever he tries to interact with them, Yuu runs away like their life depends on it. Ironically, they're friendlier to Floyd (because he's much friendlier to little kids in general), and they tend to play a few games when Yuu has nothing to do and Floyd is bored (things like racing Yuu on Floyd's shoulders, Floyd grabbing Yuu by the arms and spinning them around, etc.).

Floyd doesn't really realize that Yuu has a troubled past until Jade points it out. When he does, however, he assures Yuu that if their parents (or anyone, really) try to hurt them again, he'll happily squeeze them :)

Jamil has mixed feelings about Yuu. On one hand, they're the sweetest kid around, but on the other, he uses Crowley's favoritism toward them whenever he can. This doesn't mean Jamil doesn't take care of Yuu, of course not. He makes sure they eat at least three times a day, get some exercise, and study. He's like a mother hen, and he worries A LOT when Yuu gets hurt or starts crying for any reason. He has a younger sister, so I like to think he's relatively good at comforting them.

Jamil doesn't really treat Yuu any differently after learning of their past, but he does make a point of not doing certain things that might remind them of their trauma, things like leaving them alone for too long, yelling at them, and raising his hands when angry (along with teaching Yuu that if they feels bad, whether physically or emotionally, to go to him or an adult). Above all, Jamil got used to Yuu feeling SAFE around him and made sure it stays that way.

Rook thinks Yuu is the cutest little thing ever, constantly lifting them up in the air like they're a stuffed animal and hugging them (if they complains to him he'll stop, but if not, he'll carry on as if Yuu were his personal teddy bear). The idea of him trying to teach Yuu how to shoot a tiny bow and arrow is hilarious (everyone is worried about two things: 1- Rook using himself to prop up Yuu's apples for a target shoot, and 2- WHERE THE HELL DID HE GET A BOW FOR SUCH A YOUNG KID?). Vil is going to have a heart attack because of them both.

Rook is a big brother; let's just say he has a sixth sense when Yuu is feeling particularly bad. During these times, Rook tends to act especially theatrical in an attempt to cheer them up, or he even tries to talk to Yuu about how they're feeling to see if he can do anything for them (Rook definitely joins Floyd and Ruggie's "I hate Yuu's biological parents" squad, but he's more silly and discreet about it).

I've already talked about Ortho and the first-years here.

Lilia formally knows Yuu as a friend of Malleus, but he thinks they're the cutest things in life. he's constantly on their tail, appearing out of nowhere (scaring Yuu in the process, though Lilia is good at calming them down with a lullaby), showing up at Ramshackle to make sure they have food and good living conditions, though eventually he just shows up one day, grabs Yuu and Grim like a sack of potatoes, and decides they'd have better living conditions in Diasomnia (partly to spite Crowley. The custody battle will be legendary).

Lilia does the typical things a father should do with his children: read them a bedtime story, tuck them in, pack them lunch for the day (he doesn't cook it, Silver or Sebek does), and is very likely one of the few adults Yuu ends up accidentally calling "dad" (Lilia will have to be restrained from doing an express adoption right there). Overall, the little kid has made its way into the old general's heart.

For this reason, he is very patient when it comes to comforting Yuu about their original "family." He usually soothes them with a lullaby and puts them to bed in Diasomnia, but not before going to "talk" to Crowley about it.

Let's just say Yuu has all of NRC in the palm of their little hand, but it's not something the students complain about.

________

(ESPAÑOL)

Awwwww esto es tan dulce

Trey activa el modo papá/hermano mayor en cuanto se entera que hay un niño pequeño en NRC sin padres y sobretodo, con claros signos de estar mal alimentado. Trey trata de equilibrar entre darle muchos dulces y cosas azucaradas a Yuu, y cosas más saludables para que no termine con algún problema de salud adicional. Tambien un gran habito que tomaron es de cocinar juntos! Así Trey sabe con exactitud qué cosas le gustan a Yuu y que cosas no, le asegura que no tiene problemas si el nene es quisquilloso ¡todos tenemos nuestros gustos!

Cada vez que Yuu dice algo relacionado a la forma en la que fue criado o con relación a sus padres, Trey no puede evitar tener un extraño sentimiento de nostalgia que lo deja sintiendo enfermo. Él trata de que Yuu no piense en sus padres la mayoría del tiempo, pero sobretodo, trata de ser lo más asertivo posible en que lo que los padres de Yuu hacían estaba MAL, que él es un buen niño, que no es una carga, etc. Básicamente trata de hacer lo que debió hace mucho tiempo.

Ruggie pensó al principio que Yuu era un niño perdido que talvez era el hijo de algún profesor, él realmente no confía PARA NADA en Crowley para cuidar de Yuu, por lo que cada vez que lo ve (ya sea en la cafetería o algún otro lugar) trata de checar que este bien de forma animada (preguntarle si está bien, si ha comido algo recientemente, si Crowley le esta cuidando). A Yuu le gusta estar cerca de Ruggie para jugar, cree que es divertido y Ruggie lo toma como un cumplido.

Ruggie esta acostumbrado a los niños y sabe leerlos bien, por lo que nota que algo malo pasa con Yuu (y al principio pensó que Crowley era el culpable), digamos que Ruggie le dice a Yuu que si un adulto le hace daño, que vaya directamente a él por ayuda (Leona le debe una después de todo), pero entre que se tranquiliza y se siente mal cuando Yuu le explica lo de sus padres. Al menos le asegura a Yuu que no tendrá que verlos de nuevo.

Jade es aterrador para Yuu, cada vez que el intenta interactuar con ellos, Yuu corre como si su vida dependiera de ello. Irónicamente es mas amigable con Floyd (porque el es mucho mas amigable con los niños pequeños en general), y tienden a jugar algunos juegos cuando Yuu no tiene nada que hacer y Floyd esta aburrido (cosas como carreras con Yuu en los hombros de Floyd, Floyd agarrando a Yuu de sus brazos y haciéndole girar a toda velocidad, etc).

Floyd realmente no se da cuenta de que Yuu tiene un pasado turbulento hasta que Jade se lo señala, cuando lo hace, sin embargo, le asegura a Yuu que si sus padres (o cualquier persona en realidad) intentan lastimarle otra vez, el felizmente los apretara 

Jamil tiene sentimientos encontrados con respecto a Yuu, por una parte, es el niño más dulce que hay, pero por otra parte usa el favoritismo de Crowley hacia ellos cada que puede. Esto no quiere decir que Jamil no cuide de Yuu, claro que no, él se asegura que coman mínimo 3 veces al día, hagan algo de ejercicio, estudien, es como una mamá gallina, y se preocupa MUCHO cuando Yuu se lastima o empieza a llorar por cualquier razón. Él tiene una hermana menor, me gusta pensar que es relativamente bueno en el confort.

Jamil realmente no trata diferente a Yuu tras saber su pasado, pero si tiene en cuenta de no hacer ciertas cosas que puedan recordarle su trauma, cosas como dejarle solo mucho tiempo, gritarle, alzar las manos estando enojado (junto a enseñarle a Yuu que si se siente mal, ya sea física o emocionalmente, vaya con el o algún adulto). Por encima de todo, Jamil se acostumbró a que Yuu se sienta SEGURO cerca de él y se asegurara de que se mantenga así.

Rook piensa que Yuu es la cosita más adorable que puede existir, constantemente lo esta levantando en el aire como si fuera un peluche y abrazándolo (el para si Yuu se queja, pero si no, el seguirá como si Yuu fuera su oso de felpa personal). La idea de que trate de enseñarle a Yuu a disparar un pequeño arco y flecha es súper graciosa (todos están preocupados sobre dos cosas: 1- que Rook se use a sí mismo para apoyar las manzanas de tiro al blanco para Yuu y 2- ¿DE DONDE DIABLOS SACO UN ARCO PARA UN NIÑO TAN JOVEN?). Vil va a tener un ataque cardiaco por culpa de los dos.

Rook es un hermano mayor, digamos que tiene un sexto sentido cuando Yuu se siente especialmente mal. Para esos momentos, Rook suele actuar especialmente teatral en un intento de animarle, o directamente trata de hablar de Yuu sobre cómo se siente para saber si puede hacer algo por ellos (definitivamente Rook se une a Floyd y Ruggie al Squad de “odio a los padres biológicos de Yuu” pero es más silly y discreto al respecto).

Ya hablé de Ortho y los de primer año aquí.

Lilia conoce formalmente a Yuu como un amigo de Malleus, pero cree que son la cosa mas tierna de la vida. Constantemente está detrás de ellos, apareciendo de la nada (asustando a Yuu en el proceso, aunque Lilia es bueno calmándole con una canción de cuna), apareciendo en Ramshackle para ver que tengan comida y buenas condiciones, aunque eventualmente el solo aparece un día, los agarra como un saco de papas a Yuu y Grim, y decide que tendrían mejores condiciones de vida en Diasomnia (y en parte para molestar a Crowley. La batalla por la custodia será legendaria).

Lilia hace las típicas cosas que debería hacer un padre con sus hijos con Yuu, leerles un cuento para dormir, arroparle, aprontarle un almuerzo para el dia (no lo cocina el, lo cocina Silver o Sebek), y es muy probable que sea uno de los pocos adultos que Yuu termina llamando “papá” por accidente (Lilia tendrá que ser contenido de hacer una adopción express ahí mismo). En general el nene ha hecho su camino en el corazón del viejo general.

Por lo mismo, es muy paciente cuando se trata de consolar a Yuu con respecto a su “familia” original. Suele calmarle con una canción de cuna y lo pone en su cama en Diasomnia, no sin antes ir a “hablar” con Crowley al respecto.

Digamos que Yuu tiene todo NRC en la palma de su pequeña mano, pero no es algo de lo que los estudiantes se quejen.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[codnasties]

phillip graves def had a housewife kink… idk but yes

something about him grilling in the backyard and your kids playing in the playground and his co-workers or ppl from the shadow company are around for the barbecue and he’s is shameless when he sees you in a sundress.. he has no shame when he slaps your ass in front of everyone or whatever 🐿️

graves' housewife 🪦 (🌽 link)

graves southern ass has always had that idea of having a happy little family of his own, owning a ranch and having a pretty housewife, always pregnant around the house, and a bunch of kids running around. that's his life dream, you know?

when he found you, he knew he had hit the jackpot. perfect for him, wanting children, not minding the ranch life and willing to allow him to provide for you while you look pretty for him, bear his children and making a tasty meal every here and there.

i didn't take him long to propose, and even less to try and get you pregnant once you move in with him. but how is he not going to when you go and make dinner in just an apron? not even a dress or some underwear under it.

you are literally screaming at him to bend you over the counter and breed you full. his hands groping your plush tits as he thusts into your soaking wet pussy. that's what tells him you've been planning for this to happen. so he will help you, by cumming deeply inside of you, and letting you get back to cocking while some cum leaks out and starts dripping down your legs

do not worry, he will make sure to give you more after dinner

[moesthoughts]

Having thoughts about toxic, possessive Shauna showing the rest of the girls who f!reader belongs to 🤍

possessive shauna marking you

pairing : toxic shauna shipman x fem reader

warnings : season 3 shauna, marking, blood, rough sex, knife play kind of??, choking

➛ it’s not surprising shauna shipman is so protective of you, it seems that everyone wants to take everything that’s hers away from her.

first jackie, who was taken away from her too quickly, the guilt forever sticking with her. Then her baby, who she felt like was everyone’s but hers.

➛ she does everything to make sure the group knows you’re hers, her nails digging into the skin of your thigh when you sit next to each other, tugging you roughly away from conversation when she doesn’t like it. She wants you all to herself, and the group has noticed.

➛ from the scrapes on your back from being pushed up against the tough bark on trees, the sharp wood cutting into your skin. The bruises and bite marks on your neck and chest from her biting into your sensitive places and licking the blood away, sucking harshly on your neck to suck any noise out of you.

➛ your legs ache from long sessions in your shared hut, how shauna would eat you out, forcing you to be loud so everyone can hear you, no matter how late it was into the night. She wants to remind everyone that shes the only one who can you feel good.

➛ you’re instructed not to hide your marks, no matter how bad your neck looks, no matter how many questions are asked. You wouldn’t hide them either way.

➛ shauna reminds you that you belong with her, that you can’t get with anybody else. She kisses you with hunger, that action alone putting you in a place where you can’t leave.

➛ she insists that you always stay by her, she gets anxious when you leave her side too long. afraid that you’ll stray too far away and get yourself hurt, or die. It doesn’t matter how strong you are, she still has a sense of protectiveness over you.

➛ she will yell in people’s faces if she doesn’t like what they say are do to you, she’ll get physical if she has to. Other girls ask how you deal with her, you can only shrug.

➛ shauna, who fucks you silly with the handle of her knife. Laughing as you whine when she hits that sweet spot. She helps you oh so “sweetly” the next morning, smirking at the others while she helps you wash off in the lake.

➛ you wear shauna’s clothes, she wears yours. You love the sweater she still has from before the crash, her initials sewn in with a pretty blue threading. She loves seeing you in her clothes, loves showing you off.

➛ shauna who refers to you as her girlfriend anytime she gets, talking to melissa about you with a cheeky tone. subtly bringing the conversation towards you any time she can.

“we need someone—“

“My girlfriend can do it, she’s probably more capable than any of you anyway.” her unnerving smirk never is wiped off her face as she drinks in the states of disbelief from the group.

➛ she refuses to let you touch anyone unless you’re giving them a hug, anything else she gets so worked up and jealous. Why are you touching lottie’s hand while speaking to her? why are you caressing akilah’s shoulder?

she’ll push you against a tree, her fingers tight around your throat while whispering harshly into your ear. You’re hers, not anyone else’s.

➛ sometimes you feel isolated from the group, but you didn’t expect anything else from being under the wing of the antler queen. Getting special treatment out in the wilderness causes jealousy.

➛ getting slightly larger portions of food than anyone else, ignoring the daggers glaring into your soul as you ate.

➛ everyone knows you belong to shauna, and that’s all she cares about.

trying a new format.. idk if I like it but i think it’s better than the one i have rn. ALSO THANKU FOR REQING ME ANON

req me!

masterlist

[loveafterdeath-if]

Yeah, similarly to what another anon said, I was kinda hoping for this to be a story about moving on after losing a lived one, specifically your partner, which I thought was a beautiful and heartbreaking concept, and while we did get that in the first few chapters, it feels like this plot twist kind of defeats the whole point.

Though, unlike the other anon, I personally will probably continue reading because I think you are an amazing writer and because I love Ekissa. The only thing that makes me not sure about continuing is that the situation is a bit awkward, makes me feel a bit uncomfortable, so I was wondering about how you were going to manage it? Because MCs moving on process obviously gets cut short, but for those of us who are gonna romance someone else, we still need to finish that process, and one important thing when moving on from an ex is time apart, especially for one you were grieving not so long ago. Otherwise old feelings, nostalgia and a lot of other emotions get mixed up and that would probably lead to confusion. (Sorry, for the long paragraph, just a bit worried about how this is gonna continue)

It's heavy spoiler territory, but I'll have to address this for anon. And it'll be a long-ass response, so be prepared,

You are right about one thing, the whole plot falls apart if El is alive, doesn't it? And like someone said in the LAD discord "why love after death then". They didn't phrase it exactly like that, but you know what I mean. The plot does start with El, but it won't end with them. Idk how to explain without giving away too much, lol

There are clues that El isn't really dead in the first chapters. The flowers MC receives, and now players know El was the one offering them. The doc and Athiel never talk about death when discussing El. MC doesn't have the right to go to the funeral or even see El's body. Even L being called by Juliet at the beginning will have its importance. They're small details, nothing too obvious, but they're here.

I'll be honest, sometimes when writing Athiel talking with MC, I struggled to remember El wasn't dead because I tried to make it look and feel like El was dead, so I drowned a bit in that department.

The characters might seem like a lot, but each has their own purpose, big or small. Some are a breath of fresh air for MC since they're not caught up in all the drama and can be objective. Others are here because they'll play an important role later. Then there are those who serve as reminders of the past with El (like the neighbors). And some are just like those background characters in anime; you don't even see their features because they're just there to serve a small purpose and keep the intrigue going. They come and go.

Sorry, I'm talking too much. So how I'll manage it, is by—and it's where it's gonna get tricky—make MC aware of it as soon as possible. There will be a reunion between MC and El. The tricky part is showing that El won't remember MC, no matter how much/if the MC tries to jog their memory.

The past El is dead; the memories won't come back, and if any fragments do resurface, El won't feel the love they once had. It's more like a ghost of memories; their body remember, but it's more mechanical than actual feelings. Like an old habit that won't go.

MC will have to grieve the old El anyway, even with them actually alive.

In El's route, it'll be all about falling in love again, getting them out of this toxic relationship with their mother, helping them learn to love themself again, and living with someone who is El but not the El you used to know. They have trauma, the confidence they once had is gone, they're insecure and they're more reserved than before.

Juliet is like, the first villain before introducing the final boss. What I wanted to do was weave two kinda plots in the same book because I didn't want to make two separate books. Love After Death is Love After Death for a reason. The plan is to make the players realize that El wasn't the focus of this book in the first place.

I hope there won't have any inconsistencies in this story, but if you find any plot holes, you're free to let me know, and I'll do my best to improve. It's only with advice and constructive critique that I can do so. I'm sure there are blind spots I won't see right away; I'm only human😭

[angelholic1]

Blow off steam 𓂃⋆.˚

⤷ After a frustrating match, Michael Kaiser comes home wanting you

pairing : michael kaiser x fem reader 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ

warning(s) : ooc? not edited, changed a bit of the plot, smut, degradation, idk what else..!

The door clicked shut behind him, not slammed, not thrown, just… closed.

You were curled on the couch, phone in hand, pretending to scroll through social media. But the second Kaiser entered the apartment, everything in the room shifted. The silence went heavy, like a storm about to break.

He dropped his bag near the door and stood there for a second. Just breathing.

Still in his match-day kit, jersey clinging to sweat-slick skin, cleats undone but not removed, blond hair damp and falling into his eyes. You’d seen him like this before, fresh off the field, adrenaline still humming under his skin, but this time felt different.

He wasn’t smug. He wasn’t cocky.

He was… quiet.

“Hey,” you said softly, setting your phone aside. “You okay?”

Kaiser didn’t answer right away. He ran a hand through his hair, slow, almost shaky. His mouth opened like he was about to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned and walked straight into the kitchen.

You followed.

He leaned against the counter with his back to you, head bowed. The muscles in his shoulders were drawn tight beneath the fabric. Tense. Angry.

“They were chanting Isagi’s name,” he said finally, voice flat.

You blinked. “What?”

“After I scored the winning goal,” he said, turning slightly. “Not mine. His. Like he mattered more.”

There it was. The crack.

You crossed the room carefully, your bare feet soft on the floor. “You played well, Kaiser. You were incredible.”

He didn’t respond, just grabbed a water bottle and twisted it open. He took a long sip, throat bobbing, before setting it down and facing you fully.

That’s when you saw it, right there in his eyes. Rage. Insecurity. That messy storm of arrogance and fragile ego that made Michael Kaiser who he was.

But behind it… something else.

Something raw.

Need.

“I shouldn’t give a fuck,” he muttered. “I know I’m better. I am better. But all I can think about is…”

His jaw clenched. He stepped toward you.

“All I can think about is you.”

Your breath caught.

Kaiser was right in front of you now, towering, flushed, fists clenched at his sides. His gaze dragged over your face like he was starving.

“I don’t want to talk,” he said. “I don’t want comfort. I don’t want a fucking talking to either.”

He leaned in close, voice a growl.

“I want you.”

You swallowed hard. “Then take me.”

“No,” he said, and you blinked.

His hand came up, gentle, trembling slightly, as he cupped your jaw.

“Let me have you,” he said, voice rough. “Just for tonight. Let me fuck this frustration out. Let me. Please.”

It was the please that undid you.

You nodded without hesitation. “I’m yours.”

Kaiser’s breath hitched, and then he moved.

Lips crashing into yours, tongue demanding entry, hands roaming with a hunger that made your head spin. He kissed like a man possessed, no finesse, no teasing, just heat, want and desperation.

He tugged at your shirt, growling when it resisted, before yanking it over your head in one aggressive pull.

“Fuck,” he breathed, looking at you like he might lose his mind. “You’re so fucking pretty. Sitting here like this, soft and sweet, while I’m going insane.”

He kissed you again, messier this time, backing you toward the bedroom. You barely registered your steps before the backs of your knees hit the bed, and he shoved you down onto it.

He stood above you, stripping off his jersey and staring like he was trying to memorize you.

“You gonna let me be selfish?” he asked. “Let me blow steam off like the way I need to?”

You nodded. “Anything.”

He climbed over you, pinning your wrists down above your head. “Say it.”

“I'll let you do anything to me, I need it, Kaiser. Please.”

That broke him.

He attacked your throat with kisses, biting and licking and leaving angry red marks. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wide, dragging your panties down your legs.

“So wet already,” he muttered. “You like being my outlet, huh?”

“Yes.”

He groaned, dragging two fingers through your folds and pressing just enough to make your back arch. “So fucking needy. Dripping for me before I’ve even gotten started.”

You moaned when he slid a finger in, then a second. He curled them ruthlessly, watching your face twist with pleasure.

“I want this burned into your body,” he said. “Every time you feel sore tomorrow, I want you to remember why.”

“Kaiser—please—”

He pulled his fingers out and licked them clean with a smirk. “Begging already? I haven’t even ruined you yet.”

He freed his cock from his waistband, thick, flushed, leaking, and lined it up against your entrance. But instead of slamming in like he usually did, he paused.

“You’re sure?” he asked, voice softer, but eyes still blazing.

“Yes. I want it. Want you.”

And with that, he pushed in, slowly at first, letting you feel every inch. He groaned low in his throat as your walls clenched around him.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “So tight. So fucking perfect.”

You whimpered, and he leaned over you, bracing on his elbows.

“Gonna fuck all this rage out,” he promised. “Gonna bury every doubt in your pussy and forget the whole world exists.”

Then he started to move.

Hard. Deep. Relentless.

You whined out with every thrust, your body bouncing beneath him as he drove into you like a man possessed.

“This is what I needed, not applause, not praise, just this. You.”

You moaned, clawing at his back, legs locking around his waist.

“God, you sound so good when you’re getting fucked,” he growled. “Look at you. Hair messy, face flushed, all for me.”

His hand found your throat and squeezed, not enough to hurt, just enough to control. Your head spun.

“You’re perfect for me,” he muttered. “Bet you love this, huh? Being used like this. It doesn’t mean anything after today”

You moaned helplessly. “Mm..I know”

[immjustagirll]

this is so real BUT here r some tips for the ones I do w/ fatigue pain and all the lovely stuff!

Reading - eye strain, hand pain - if your struggle is eye strain but you have pretty ok hearing try audio books! i struggle with hand pain reading physical books but you have a phone/tablet/computer use ebooks! and for the financial aspect we love Libby + you don't have to leave ur house to get the books when they r digital. there are also good downloading archives but IDK the ethics of it :

Knitting or crochet -i love both of these! crochet is v rough on my hands but knitting can be easier! also if you want the dopeamiine of a finished project knitting machines are great, also compression gloves!

Shows or movies - I cant watch movies cause I cant keep up with the plot, butt my solution for this is fanfic! all of the new tea and fun of watching a new movie with none of the struggle if u know all the characters! I also like to read summaries and character explanations before I start a movie or show to make it easier to keep up with everything

I don't collect or play video games BUT reblog w/ suggestions if u do

Cooking or baking - it depends on what ur needs r but for me, cooking is a struggle cause I get hot and dizzy and also cant safely use knives and similar stuff. for that I love child knives so if I'm chopping I don't cut myself, scissors for anything you can (no need to get cooking scizzors if they r too expensive just strong ones) and buying prewashed veg or precooked protein to be able to shorten the amount of time in the kitchen

Yoga - take ur time! i don't go do yoga classes but yoga in my bed helps bunches w/ anxiety & ocd :) don't try to do a fancy move or anything but instead look for people doing more adaptive yoga and don't do whatever doesn't feel good!

point being, i dont disagree w/ OP atall! but if doing this stuff does bring u joy its so much better to make it a little easier :)

We all just wanna live in a way that makes us happy even if it hurts a little, or a lot so when we can we should make live nicer!

Hobbies that able bodied people recommend as very accessible but actually aren’t; (if you find these exhausting it’s ok - many do and you aren’t weaker or less than or unworthy or being a “buzz kill” or “over dramatic” bcs you need more rest than these hobbies provide💓)

Reading - eye strain, hand pain - it’s expensive in general and more expensive if you need physical aids to help you do it.

Knitting or crochet - this one feels more obvious - sure your not going for a hike but this is a lot of movement for people who either have fatigue, foggy brains or inflammation😗

Shows or movies - more so but then there are the flashing lights, bright color, many sounds and if you’re like me the brain fog can make you feel pretty stupid when trying to keep up with the plot.

Collectibles - expensive! And often requires a lot of travelling to get limited editions or to explore second hand shops to chance upon one of those items.

Video games - I’m gonna cut to the chase and just say anything with bright colors and loud sounds and lots of hand stuff is pretty much the last thing many disabled people want to do on a flare day. Quick response times too can really suck when the fog is just consuming every single coordinated thought!

Cooking or baking - it’s alot of standing if you don’t have an accessible kitchen. And having a kitchen like that can be expensive or at least very time consuming as you travel from second hand shop to second hand shop to find the needed equipment.

Yoga - fuck off. It’s so obvious why this is an issue just like strength training and cardio.

This is not at all to say that disabled people can’t do or can’t enjoy these things. It’s more to say that what is easy for an abled person isn’t necessarily easy for a disabled person. And that doing these tasks exert excess energy. Even our hobbies tire us at time and require a lot of effort to have.

I love reading and knitting and writing. And I do it when I can but I’m aware my hands aren’t as nimble and happy with me so I can’t do it as much as I want. I work out too but to my limits and I’m aware that if I fuck up and do too much I will have consequences (if I can even do that thing).

My point really starts and ends with; a disabled person remains disabled even when doing cosier or nicer activities. And those tasks cost spoons just like other ones. And those tasks can be harmful when a person is not in a position to enjoy them - which can be more often for a disabled person. So it’s important to have a level of empathy for the kind of rest people need and their limitations (which may not be in places you expect).

[kizusof]

a little cold

🐰 ; you work as his assistant, assuming your relationship was strictly professional but perhaps it wasn’t ,

— albedo x reader

Albedo never indulged himself into romance novels or shows, but you did. So it didn’t take long until you started noticing the little moments you had with him, perhaps you were overthinking it, your master has always been a caring man. But it didn’t explain that he’d only do such things with you and only you. Holding your hand when you’re out together, not correcting others when they assume that you’re in a relationship. The little things always left you confused and conflicted, It was starting to become annoying, filling your mind most days.

You had gone to Dragonspine to collect samples for your master. You went alone because he had other matters to attend to, and even though he offered to reschedule and go with you next time, you refused. But you didn’t anticipate that you’d end up staying in Dragonspine longer than expected, the materials you needed was hard to find and Dragonspine was a deep place. It was long overdue and you barely got what he requested, you went back to Mondstadt preparing your apology.

“Master Albedo, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to collect what you required from me.”

no, that doesn’t sound right.

“My dearest apologies—.”

you were frustrated even thinking about it.

You braced yourself as you opened the door, not expecting a worried Albedo on the other side.

He immediately rushed to your side as you opened the door asking if you were hurt or hungry. It was clear to you that he was upset you didn’t send out a letter or anything to inform him of your late return. “I’m sorry master. The materials were hard to find, I didn’t want to go back empty handed.” “Don’t … do that ever again. It doesn’t matter if you weren’t able to do the task, you need to return on the agreed date if i’m not with you. I was so worried.” He pulls you and embraces you, feeling his cold skin against your warmth.

You were shocked to say the least. Even though you were used to his affectionate gestures, this felt different—more intense… more intimate?

“The world felt cold without you around.” he whispered into your ear, his breath making you tense.

“master..” you said softly, your voice quiet, you pulled back slightly to look at him. His eyes gazed into yours so tenderly. His fingers slowly interlaced with yours as he leaned in again, gently pecking your ear as you closed your eyes from the nervous flutter in your chest.

You didn’t have to overthink it anymore—his actions spoke louder than words ever could.

He loves you.

a/n : i havent played genshin in a long while and this fic plays before whatever happened recently cs um yea idk… what happened actually..

[stormystarlight]

everybody give itup for the slug #myslug

experimental painting from my backlog, number 3 out of 3. so that's all for now! i painted this one after a few days of playing the watcher (because i got excited about Slug), which meant there was a decent half-month gap between it and the last one.

i think i did a lot better with my use of halftones & the rake this time. they stand out way more which is what i wanted!

when i started this piece i envisioned it with a dark/almost black background, but when i got to the actual painting phase it made me realize how much i like the Vibrant Underpainting That Influences The Whole Color Palette thing. switching out the background immediately made me like it way more, but next time i want to practice keeping the underpainting beneath the Character Only so i can get the look i want while still having a dark background.

in the first 2 paintings i added a texture overlay on top of the whole thing and it made them look pretty good. i forgiot it on this one. i miss my texture overlay, tails. i miss it a lot. i know i could just go back and add it now but im not doing that

idk how many people read them, but i've been enjoying writing these progress/thought process summaries under these posts. they're specifically applicable to this 'experimental painting' series because i don't know what the hell i'm doing, but i might add them to more 'normal' posts going forward just because i can

[notarmedandnotdangerous]

hi i just wanted to say I LOVE UR POSTS SO MUCH YOU ARE DOING A SERVICE TO THE MALE READER BUCKY FANS🫡 anyways pls.. more dom bucky i beg.. specifically 1940's bucky where yk it was illegal to be fruity.. PLS idk why a gay-in-denial 1940's bucky has been stuck in my head for so long anyways bye ily goat

a/n: hiii thank you sm i really appreciate it!! :) i really try to serve the male readers out there as much as i can!! i didn't really have a lot of knowledge about officer ranks, so i had to do a bit of research, and it took me quite a while, but i really hope i captured what you wanted in this, i hope you enjoy it 😋

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+18 mdni! sergeant!bucky pining after duty officer!reader who's too scared to tell bucky how he actually feels.

cw: dom!bucky, sub!m!reader, porn with plot (shocking), pining, reader calls bucky 'james', and 'sergeant', bucky calls reader 'darling', and 'officer', flirty!bucky, innocent!reader, homophobia mentioned, bucky has a hair pulling kink, missionary, fingering, blowjob (?), handjob, creampie (?), they say 'i love you' at the end!!!

word count: >4.6k

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summer, 1943

the war had taken so much already, cities, brothers, allies. but it had also given you and bucky, who was a sergeant at the time, something strange, something private. he met you in an office in new york city, crowded with typewriters, and ration slips. he wore his confidence like a medal of honor, while you were all jittery nerves and untied laces, always adjusting your tie a bit too tight.

“you’re going to strangle yourself one day, you know. death by self-doubt.”

“it’s just.. crooked. the knot feels off.” you reached towards your neck to straighten your tie, again.

“no it’s not. it’s perfect, as always. it’s you that’s twisted up.. inside.” he pressed his pointer finger against your chest, where your heart was.

“that’s reassuring.” you said dryly, swatting his finger away from you playfully.

“i mean it kindly, officer.” even though he teased you often, he liked the way you carried yourself, previously mentioning how it gave you a ‘clandestine charm’ of sorts.

“is that supposed to be a compliment, sergeant?” you played along, the both of you had always enjoyed calling each other by your ranks, it just made you feel connected to him, in a way that you shouldn’t be feeling.

“depends on how you view it.” bucky shrugged, before walking away. he complimented you often, almost too often, as if he wanted you to believe him one day.

one morning, you had run late, your collar was buttoned wrong while your tie was slightly crooked. you hurried into the office, stumbling into your seat. bucky was there already, waiting by your table. he tipped his hat at you, making your face heat up in embarrassment. you prayed that no one else saw, that no one would suspect the way you felt about him.

“you’re all buttoned up wrong, officer.” he stepped closer towards you, fixing your collar and tie for you. his fingers had brushed against your throat in the process, making you hold your breath nervously. he seemed to have noticed the way you reacted though, he chuckled, before pulling away. your heart knew what your mouth dared not to say.

it was 1943, you could lose everything for wanting a man like him. bucky never seemed afraid, though. he’d wink at you during tea breaks, and write notes, either passing them to you or sneakily tucking them into the pockets of your coats. he’d write you notes like ‘if you find yourself losing sleep tonight, indulge and think about me. i’ll be thinking of you too, no doubt.’. you never wrote back, you were too scared to. but you’ve kept all of them though, slipping the notes in between pages of your notebooks to hide them from the eyes of others.

whenever the both of you had to work extra long shifts, he’d join you, pushing the paperwork over so that he’d be able to sit on your desk. he’d always lean in, talking about paris, as if it was a dream the both of you might share, someday.

“we’d go dancing.” he spoke, his voice low. “we wouldn’t have to be afraid there.”

“war will be over soon, maybe.” you laughed, your head tipping downwards to look at the ground.

winter 1943.

a few months had passed since you met bucky. one night, the both of you had drinks at your flat, the both of you sat on the floor against the couch as you drank.

“you shouldn’t look at me like that.” you turned to bucky, he looked even better in this dim lighting, it made you want him more than you should.

“like what, darling?”

“like you know me. like.. like you want to.” the both of you sat in silence for a while, before he broke the silence.

“maybe i do.”

“this.. we’re not in a french novel, james. it’s not poetry. you know what they’d do to us if they found out.” you sighed out, taking a sip from your glass of whiskey.

“men like us. you said it. that’s the first time you’ve ever put yourself in the same sentence as me.”

“..d-don’t make light of this.”

“i’m not. i never do, not with you.” bucky turned towards you, his hands fidgeting with a stopwatch.

“easy for you to say, you don’t have a father waiting at home with expectations, or a commanding officer who’ll feed you to the wolves if you screw up.” you said, bitterly.

“you think i’m not scared? you think i don’t lie awake at night, thinking about who might’ve saw us talking too long, standing too close?” he closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. “but i’d rather risk it than live pretending all of this isn’t real.” you stared at him, your jaw tightening.

“you.. you don’t understand, james. i’ve spent my whole life keeping quiet, k-keeping my hands to myself.” you spat out. “you.. you come along with your easy smile, and your stupid poems..” your eyes were glassy, filled with tears that threatened to spill out. “i.. i don’t know how to survive the way you love.”

“i’ve seen enough of this war to know one thing. the world doesn’t give you many chances at something good, you have to take it when it comes.” bucky took your hands in his, caressing your fingers. “i don’t wanna mess this up, not with you.”

“it.. it’s not that easy.” tears rolled down your cheeks as your breath stuttered.

“then let me teach you, darling. i’m not asking you to shout it from the rooftops. just.. just stay with me little longer. don’t go down there pretending again.” there was a long silence, before you leaned against his shoulder. not quite a touch, but just enough.

you had let bucky stay at your flat, just to keep you company. you had let him take the bed, while you slept on the floor. the both of you laid awake, staring into the ceiling.

“when i was thirteen, i got caught staring at a boy for too long in the chapel. my father made me kneel in gravel for a day. told me i had the devil in me.” bucky didn’t speak, just listened as you opened up. “funny thing is, i believed him. i-i thought if i ignored it.. prayed hard enough, it’ll all go away.” you let out a bitter laugh.

“did it?”

“you know it didn’t. you walk around like it’s not a sin to want someone like me, like.. like it’s not a curse. i don’t know how you do it, james.”

“it is a curse, but not the kind they think. the real curse is hiding, watching the person you love walk away, all because the both of you are too scared to love each other.” he spoke, his voice cracking. “you know i love you, right?” he confessed. you were quiet, just listening to what he had to say. “i’m not asking you to say it back.. i just want to know that you feel something.”

“if i didn’t feel anything, i wouldn’t have invited you over, would’ve shut you out.” bucky sat up, moving down to pick you up from the floor. he set you down next to him on the bed, pulling the covers over the both of you.

“we could run away together, start a new life somewhere far away from here, like switzerland. someplace where no one would know who we are, and wouldn’t care if two men slept together in the same bed.” your breath caught in your throat, but you didn’t move, not even an inch. you didn’t answer. no, you couldn’t, not when you knew what they would do to people like you.

“i don’t think a place like that exists, not yet at least.”

“maybe not, but i’d rather chase a lie than live without you.” the both of you turned in bed, to face each other. you looked at him, then, just barely, you smiled softly at him.

“have you always been this poetic?”

“only when i’m terrified. or in love.” bucky shuffled, sitting up. “can i..?” he looked at you, and you nodded. you moved closer to him, and let him kiss you. he pulled you onto his lap, all while continuing to kiss you.

“if we keep this up, someone’ll talk.”

“then let them.” he reached into his pocket, pulling out a button. “here. from my uniform. soldiers give the second button to someone they love. first one’s too proud, second one is close to the heart.” you stared at it momentarily, before reaching out to grab it. you held it in your palm as if it was something fragile, as if it would shatter. you placed the button underneath your pillow

“what if i lose it?”

“you won’t.” bucky kissed your forehead, innocently, before moving lower to kiss your neck as delicately as he could. “would you let me..” he looked down at your crotch, before looking back up at you. you were inexperienced, but he definitely wasn’t.

“yes, james, yes.” you nodded, nervously.

“it’s okay, i’ll be nice for you, darling. don’t have to take too much at once.”

“you promise? you won’t push me too hard, too fast?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, a last ditch attempt to retreat to safer emotional ground.

“of course, darling. come on, strip for me.” bucky commanded, and you shyly removed your shirt and pants. “holy..” his brain practically short circuited when he saw you bare for the first time.

“you’re.. acting different, james.” you remarked, confused as to why bucky was so shocked.

“huh..? oh, uh, it’s nothing.” he snapped out of his trance, gently placing his hands on your bare hips. “just.. you’re just so pretty, darling.” he smiled as he kissed you gently, before taking his clothes off as well.

“you’re not so bad yourself.” you teased, voice filled with affection, and a tiny hint of mischief. “don’t let it get to your head, or i might start to think that you’re getting too cocky for your own good.” you added, with a wink.

“mhm, come on.” bucky let you lay against the pillows, while he propped your feet up on the bed as he slot his head in between your thighs. he kissed your inner thighs, and it made your cock twitch in your boxers. “it’s okay, darling. i’ve got you.” he pulled your boxers off gently, letting your cock spring out.

“oh, james..” you whispered, your eyes widening in surprise as the soft fabric of your boxers were gently tugged free. he leaned forward, kissing the base of your cock, before moving to the tip. “aah.. that.. that feels so good..” you breathed, your hips twitching involuntarily. “keep going..?” your words dissolved into a whispered plea, as his tongue began to explore you. he tried his best not to overwhelm you, after all, he was your first. he looked up at you from in between your thighs, and your eyebrows furrowed.

“sorry.. c-can’t help it.” you stammered, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to maintain eye contact. “just.. just feels too good.” your hands fisted the sheets as you arched your back. he started to tease your tip with his tongue now, wanting to slowly but consistently build up the pleasure.

“is that okay, darling?” he asked, and you nodded profusely in response.

“y-yes, just like that..” you whispered, your hips rocking up to meet his tongue. “feels like i’m drowning in pleasure..” you murmured, eyes fluttering closed as you surrendered to the pleasure. “more, please, james.” you pleaded, your thighs trembling.

“mmh.” bucky hummed in approval, sucking on your tip. you whined, and tugged on his hair, unknowingly uncovering a kink that he, himself, wasn’t aware of. he stopped abruptly, trying to calm himself down from the sudden stimulation. “holy.. uugh, my god..”

“d-did i do something?” you asked, your voice laced with confusion. when he finally looked up at you, his eyes were glazed over with lust, it was then, when you finally realised. “james.. i had no idea..”

“no. please, do that again.” he began to suck on your tip once more, waiting for you to tug on his hair more..

“aah, y-yes..” to please him, your fingers sunk into his short, dark hair, pulling gently. in response, his eyes rolled back.

“mmh..” bucky moaned, while his mouth was still on your cock, and it made you cum immediately. he tried his best to keep himself calm, but your thighs locked around his head as you came. when you finally came down from your high, you realised that he was rolling his hips against the mattress, trying to get off from you tugging on his hair.

“did i hurt you..?”

“no, of course not, darling. come here, please, i want more.. more of that.” you were pleasantly surprised as he turned into a needy mess, just from getting his hair tugged on. “do you want to suck me off too? or..”

“ah.. you want me to suck you off..?” you asked. “i.. i’ve never done that before, but if it’s something you want, i can.. i can learn, i’ll try for you.” you offered, climbing towards him. you got on your knees on the ground, while he sat on the edge of the bed.

“oh my god..” bucky was trying so hard to not cum just from the sight of you on your knees in front of him. “you can just.. try with your hands instead.”

“ah right.. with my hands.” you agreed, nodding as you slid your hands up his thigh, feeling the way his muscles tensed underneath your hands. “you want me to touch you.. like this?” you asked, your fingers gently stroking the inside of his thighs, making his breath hitch. “is it okay if i explore more.. here?” you trailed your touch lower, pulling your boxers off of you.

“yeah, please do.” he threw his head back, if he had to look down at you throughout the entire thing, he’d cum before you even touched him.

“oh my god, you’re so responsive, james.” you breathed, your touch becoming more confident as he seemed like he was enjoying it. “do you like that..? am i doing it right?”

“so- aagh, so good. yes, darling, k-keep going.” he whined when you circled your fingers around his tip. “g-gosh, please- aah..”

“tell me what you want, james, i want to learn.” you started to slowly stroke him, only for him to stop you, grabbing your wrist.

“no, want to cum inside you.” bucky spoke, absentmindedly, before realising what he had just admitted. you paused your ministrations, heart skipping a beat as his words sunk in.

“cum inside me.. like, inside my ass?” you asked, your voice a little shaky. “are you sure? i-i’ve never.. you know.” you trailed off, your face flushing red as you thought about the act.

“oh, darling, it’s okay. w-we don’t have to.” he pushed you back against the bed, and moved back in between your legs. “just let me make you feel good, okay?”

“you.. don’t have to worry about me. you’ve made me feel incredible already, james.” your hips jumped when he kissed your inner thighs. “i can take it.”

“are you sure? i don’t wanna rush you.” he looked up at you.

“yes, w-wanna make you feel good.” you cupped his face from in between your thighs. “i trust you, james.” his face flushed, you were so innocent, and so sweet, a huge contrast to him.

“you’re gonna kill me if you keep on sweet talking me like that.” bucky kissed your cheek, before letting you suck on his fingers. you sucked as well as you could, letting your drool drip down from the sides of your mouth. then, he pressed a finger into you slowly, making you gasp.

“it’s okay, you’re doing good.” he slowly thrusted his finger in and out of you, slowly stretching you open. soon after, he had three fingers in you, and you were moaning and gasping. “are you ready, darling?” you nodded diligently, face flushed bright red.

“please, do it.” he put you in a mating press, before he slowly pressed the tip against your hole, slowly entering you. you gasped at the stretch, grabbing onto his shoulders tightly.

“shh, i’ve got you.” bucky slowly entered you, inch by inch. when he finally sunk in fully, he rested his forehead against yours, breathing slowly. “you’re doing so good, i’m so lucky, so lucky to have you.” he started to slowly thrust, making you let out high-pitched whimpers that you didn’t even know were possible.

“y-you’re so.. haa.. so deep..” your head was thrown back as you let him slowly fuck you dumb. “feels so good..” you pulled his face towards you to kiss him, smiling softly at him. he started to thrust a bit harder, when he realised you’ve accommodated to his size, he hit your prostate perfectly, making you gasp for air with every thrust.

“you’re taking me so well.. nngh.. w-wouldn’t have it any other way.” he pressed your legs up against your chest, letting him fuck you impossibly deeper. all you could do was take it, letting him fuck you so good, you’d walk silly tomorrow.

“i-i’m gonna cum, james..” you whimpered, teary eyed as you spoke. “can i?.. p-please..”

“can’t say no to you, darling. not when i’m 9 inches deep inside you.” he leaned down to kiss you as you came, your cum spurting all over your abdomen. “aah- mmh, so good for me.” he started to thrust more frantically now, giving you a few harder thrusts before cumming inside with a groan. the both of you stayed together for a while, panting as you both came.

“i love you, sergeant.”

“love you too, officer.”