#instead i can just quit that fixes it too

[animeyanderelover]

•Prompt #-29 obito uchiha •I always imagine all the uchihas (separately) as asylum patients since they are very "intense" and reader as their psychiatrist.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, threats, intimidation, manipulation, gaslighting, guilt-tripping, an asylum, they are crazier than normally, death, violence

Tags: @shumidehiro @swagenemyartisan @cachamata

Uchiha's in a mental asylum

Otsutsuki Indra

💜​Indra as a patient would be very difficult and you would probably only be one of many psychiatrists that have attempted their luck with him only to fail. It's no secret that he looks down on most people in the station from the patients to the staff. Arrogant yet angry, after having read through his files you figure out that he seems to have a severe inferiority complex after his younger brother was chosen as a successor to a quite successful business as the father did not see a prospering future with Indra as the new CEO. Only very few people know about this though as it is a delicate topic to be touched. One wrong word could after all lead to Indra being triggered and attacking someone as such incidents have happened in the past before with severe injuries for people around him. The first few sessions you don't get remotely close as Indra isn't even looking at you, giving you a cold shoulder as he just stares at the paintings on the wall with a bored look, his fingers drumming against the armrest of the sofa as you try to spark a conversation or at the very least gain his attention. You'd have more success with a wall though then with Indra.

💜​Apparently ou endure much more than the psychiatrists before you as one day suddenly his black eyes are on you, observing you coldly as he remarks with a tinge of annoyance that you are far peskier than those before you. Slowly he goes from ignoring you to putting you down, trying to crack your own self-esteem. He doesn't like that you think that you can just walk in every day and expect to fix him. Who do you think you are after all? He should be the one in control. It should always be him. He constantly tries to undermine your achievements and your knowledge, observes sharply for any flaws like a hawk to use those to crack your composed facade. That's how he has gotten those before you to quit but you are infuriatingly resilient. Indra hates that. He hates that you stand up against him even though you should avert your eyes as soon as you see him. Why aren't you backing down? The fissures appear within his own facade and you carefully try to navigate through them to reach him. You venture dangerously close to emotions that haven't been touched upon in a long time as Indra gets more and more fixated on you, unwilling to pull back and lose this mindgame.

💜​He pays so much attention. He pays too much attention. That is his mistake and his downfall. His emotions are deeply troubling, the intensity of them only adding to the decay of his walls. He loses that intimidating coldness around him as he is far more agitated. He starts collecting as much information as he can from other patients or from the staff, feeling humiliated as he acts like a beggar on his knees for any scraps of information. You only want to help but that is not how Indra sees this situation. No, instead he views it as a personal defeat, as a humiliation that adds another wound to his soul. Unable to allow history to repeat itself and see himself failing to claim something that should have been his once more, he almost gets desperate. During the next session you have with him, his full attention is on you, something that has never happened to this extent before. The look of anger and resentment is on his face the entire time, something you try to talk about with him. He doesn't instantly reply though as he instead slowly rises and walks over to you until he is towering over your seated form. Black eyes threatening to devour you as he bends down and whispers lowly that he will have you soon.

Uchiha Madara

🌑​Uchiha Madara has landed in a mental hospital after witnessing the murder of his younger brother and only family he had left. Ignoring all offers of therapy, his mind had only been set on revenge. Revenge he did get but there wasn't only the blood of one person on his hands. There was a time where he used to get triggered by anything that even remotely reminded him of the killer of his younger brother which led him to attack innocent people hence why he was sent to a mental hospital. He's gotten over the worst phase though not due to the sloppy attempts of the staff or his psychiatrists. You are told that Madara is prideful, easily bored with a tendency to do whatever he wants because he knows that most people stuck here are far too scared to stop him by themselves. Indeed, he seems to have very little respect when you introduce yourself to him during your first session. He's just sprawled on the couch, arching his back like a lazy cat. Only occasionally does he seem to think that you are worthy to be graced with a bored gaze of his before he stares at the ceiling again. You prove to have guts though when you tell him to sit his ass down when he attempts to leave.

🌑​Quickly you figure out that he seems to enjoy a little bit of banter and courage, all which you seem to possess. He's been bored to tears in this place as he admits to you. Everyone seems to be on eggshells in the hospital, no one can take a joke and everyone is always tired and so easily upset. There is just no fun in this place to be found. You're the first person in a long time who is that courageous enough to stand up to him yet it could only be a fleeting spark. So to not get his hopes needlessly up only to be left disappointed, Madara decides to test you out. He makes sure to be extra cocky, smug and intimidating during the following sessions to see if this place will infect you with the same anxiety as it does everyone else. You pass that test with flying colours though, keep that spunky spark within you alive and well which has his heart fluttering. Suddenly he starts looking forward to his sessions with you as around you the air is fresh, not stagnant as it is around everyone else. More than once he attempts to see if he can make you lose your composure but you hold on to your self-control very well and he respects that, especially since he has seen lots of people crumble in this place.

🌑​Perhaps it is only logical that Madara would find himself so fixated on you in a place that normally sucks the soul out of everyone who steps remotely close to the building. You actually look and act like you are still alive and stable, have kept your humor and your energy with you. Madara almost feels the urge to protect that fire within you to keep it from being extinguished. You sense it more and more how he attempts to flirt with you though you don't indulge him to not give him any hope or to encourage any illusion. However, he starts feeling quite possessive of your time as he requests your service more than once only to waste sessions other patients might need. You know why he is doing this after all. When he finds out that you have started tending to another patient, you sense the subtle shift within his expression. His eyes narrow as he lets out an intrigued hum. For safety reasons you do ot tell him any names but it was foolish of you to think that Madara wouldn't find out otherwise. Your next session with him is cancelled as you are informed the next day that he was put into a solitary cell after he murdered another patient yesterday who just happened to be yours.

Uchiha Obito

🔥​Obito is someone everyone approaches with caution, someone who is often kept isolated from even other patients as there have been more than enough incidents that led to serious injuries and an outburst of panic and fear within the station. Obito had to witness how his own girlfriend was brutally murdered in front of his own eyes, unable to save her. When the police arrived in the scene the entire place had been coated in human stain and he had attacked everyone who had gotten close to the dead body of his lover. He has never gotten over her death, hears in fact still her voice in his head. Whether he is awake or asleep, his mind is unable to let the memory of her go. His girlfriend is his life and he has nearly strangled one of his psychiatrists when they dared to suggest that he would be able to heal as soon as he would accept that she was gone and let go. What did they know about him after all? No one would ever be able to understand him. The only person who did was his dead lover and since then Obito has developed a very cynical view on the world, has even verbally degraded patients who had made progress in their recovery. That's when you enter the scene.

🔥​For your own protection Obito is kept separated from you as you talk to him from behind a translucent wall so that the both of you can at the very least sill see each other with your eyes. He doesn't even bother looking at you, one cynical glare full of bitterness is the only thing you receive before he stares at the floor, tuning out of reality as he focuses on the voice of his girlfriend within his mind. Long hours you spend sitting there with him, asking him questions only to be left ignored. That process is repeated for days on end. Until one day he randomly interrupts you as he just tells you that he has no interest of getting better and that there would be nothing worthy out there for him anyways. It's the first time that he has actually spoken to you and you view it as a win for now. It's the first step that slowly betters the relationship you have with him. Most of the time he just attempts to push his negative mindset on you as he finds your optimism disgusting and useless but you don't give in. You are a constant presence within his life and after eternities of isolation actual human contact seems to have an unexpected effect on his mind. He starts hearing your voice in his head too.

🔥​Sweet words that his girlfriend used to speak to him are suddenly spoken with your voice in his mind, quickly deteriorating a mind that is already broken. As Obito is loyal to death though he finds himself forced to face the reality that his girlfriend is dead as he falls dangerously in love with you. She gives him her blessing though before she leaves him for good, wishes him his happiness with you and he sheds tears when she goes until he has a headache from crying. The moment she disappears, all his infatuation and desperation is fired at you. You figure that out the next session. The moment he sees you, he slams himself against the protective glass separating the two of you all whilst you stumble back in shock. His nails claw against the thick glass until they are bloody, black eyes staring at you with sickening infatuation as he tells you that he has finally let his girlfriend go as if he expects something for that in return. In his mind he does though, he gave her up so that he could love the you in the world of the living. A heavy sacrifice he committed out of love and devotion and in his mind is deserving of your own affection and love.

Uchiha Shisui

🍂​Shisui has always been someone who chose to not share his thoughts and worries with anyone. After all he grew up in an environment surrounded by people who hailed him as a genius and a prodigy. Vulnerability would have equalled weakness and failure, both attributes he wasn't allowed to have. So instead Shisui has always buried everything deep within him. For years pain, anger and feelings that he has never dealt with piled up until it all resulted in one massive meltdown that got him in the mental hospital that he is in still to this day. He hasn't heard anything from his family ever since he was brought here as only his best friend still keeps in touch with him. Shisui doesn't know if they are too ashamed to be associated with him anymore or if they are too scared after witnessing his mental breakdown. He suspects that perhaps it is a mixture of both of those theories. He can still joke with other patients, he stands up if someone is unfairly treated but it is undeniable that he is still quite lonely as all relationships he has built are ultimately superficial and shallow. Perhaps this is just the price that he has to pay after he failed the expectations that were on his shoulders.

🍂​In comparison to other patients that you have had in the past, Shisui is one of the easier ones. He responds to all of your questions politely, he tells you openly when he doesn't want to talk about something and he seems actually interested in keeping a conversation with you. Even you he manages to fool. In reality Shisui has no real interest in therapy and the different methods that people like you try out to get a patient to open up. However, he knows just how taxing and ungrateful the job of everyone involved in this facility can be and the very least that he can do is to actually act decently around you and so he does exactly that. As much as you attempt to not let it show, he senses that the sessions that you have with him are almost a break for you as you know that he won't scream, threaten you with death or insult you. That's why he shoulders yet another responsibility as he decides to make your work just that little bit easier but he doesn't let you nor anybody else notice that. Secretly the roles are almost reversed in that sense as he eases your nerves whenever you have a session with him. With that sense of responsibility comes a sense of attachment though.

🍂​Almost immediately does Shisui sense that attachment grow, spiraling out of control in a pace that almost frightens him. He doesn't know what it is that has made those emotions of his react so intensely but he knows that the damage has been done and that there is nothing that he cando now. What he does know is that he needs to keep you engaged now that it has gotten so far. Slowly he pretends to open up, admits thoughts and feelings to you that he has never spoken about before to create the illusion that you are getting somewhere with him. To Shisui it is obvious that as long as he is still stuck within those walls, his chances with you are slim and little. He needs to play the long game if he wants to have a realistic chance with you and he is committed to play it. His manipulation is subtle but steady, enough to invade one's mind gradually without them even noticing. When there is someone within the facility that he feels the need to get rid of he never does it himself. No, instead he manipulates someone else into doing it without taking the blame. After all he is always watching, knows all about every relationship and weak point about the staff and the patients.

Uchiha Itachi

🍡​Itachi is a silent shadow within the facility. He never stands out, he has never once made a ruckus or caused trouble for other patients or the guards. However, it seems like he is doomed to walk across the floors like a ghost haunting the place. He has no friends, has made no attempts at all to socialise and that has essentially led to no one knowing really anything about him. He feels like a stranger even though he has been in this institution for quite a while now already. Only the files that you receive contain information about him and his past but beyond that no one really knows what he is like. Apparently pressure and expectations from his family have accumulated into one massive mental breakdown for Itachi after years of stuffing everything away deep within his heart. The guards reveal to you that they have only really seen him talking and expressing emotions when his younger brother visits him. The relationship between his father and him is completely estranged and even his mother struggles to reach him though around her he is not as motionless and cold as when he is faced with his father. They tell you that so far he has never opened up nor spoken with any psychiatrist that he has had.

🍡​You can quickly attest to the truth of that statement. Itachi actually doesn't ignore you. He looks at you and listens to you when you ask question but he answers none of them, your voice the only sound that cuts the silence between the two of you. Initially you remain optimistic but as session after session passes you slowly start to get frustrated with the lack of results, something that the other staff notices as well. They comfort you, tell you that you're not the first one but the looming possibility that you may be given another patient instead gets slightly on your nerves. At one point you actually start talking less with him as both of you end up doing your own thing instead as you run out of ideas. Ironically enough it is during one of those sessions of complete silence that he speaks for the first time and all because you bring a book full with stories for children with you which you plan to read to your neighbour's kid for tonight. You notice how his eyes flicker over the cover of the book, his head turning. When you ask him hesitantly what is going on he seems to contemplate for a few moments before he eventually admits that he used to read the same book to his younger brother back in the days.

🍡​You discover that he is more likely to talk about fond memories that he has with his little brother than about himself and soon you realise that all of his positive memories involve Sasuke as he can't even recall one good memory he has had with his father, a stain that always seems to ruin any happy memory that could have been made. You make progress, surprise even your collegues. Itachi talks to you, he actually reveals bits of his thoughts and feelings to you and you listen intently, always thinking how to help him and slowly help him. What you fail to notice because they are so subtle are Itachi's growing feelings for you. You have a weird effect on you that lowers the walls he has built around his heart which makes it harder to keep those emotions under the grasp of control that he has always kept them. He knows that he can't admit that to anyone though, not even to you. You would be removed from the position of his psychiatrist and he can't allow that to happen. Not after he has started falling in love with you albeit in strange ways. Similar to Shisui, Itachi is going to play the long game with you and lock his feelings for you away as good as he can for now until the day he is released.

Uchiha Sasuke

🩵​Sasuke is difficult to handle. A look within his files reveals why he is that way though as his past is marked with more tragedies than most people will experience throughout their entire lives. His entire family was murdered by his own brother who was wanted by the police for years only for Sasuke to track him down years later. His older brother, murdered by his own hands only to find out after he had been arrested by the police that they had found out that he had been blackmailed as Sasuke would have otherwise been murdered as the youngest son of a prominent chief. One can only imagine what he must have gone through after that information had been revealed to him as he had just killed his last family member with his own hands, the blood still sticking to his fingers. When he had initially been delivered to the psychiatric ward he had been nothing but a bundle of rage, anger and hatred. Unwilling to get on friendly terms with anyone, harsh words shot at ay person who had gotten too close to him or had even remotely tried to get to know him better. Even violence hadn't been that unlikely from him which had resulted in him spending a lot of time in the solitary cell.

🩵​By the time you are appointed to be his psychiatrist Sasuke has learned to deal with his rage better though it all is still simmering within him. He's just managed to control it better. He's disinterested when he is forced to attend his first session with you though. You are only one of many faces after all and he's sure that you too will leave sooner or later. There is one specific reason why you have been appointed to him though. Your mother actually knew his parents as she worked in the same station as his father and perhaps that's why you are believed to have better chances with him as your mother has told you a lot about his parents. The moment he finds out, that dismissive attitude changes as you notice it in his eyes during the next session as they inspect you with a hint of hostility and unease. It's uncomfortable, the thought that you may know more about him than people should know about him. His past is what makes him vulnerable and because you have more personal information about his parents and potentially even him it makes him feel exposed. He's definitely more on defense after he knows that though at one point he can't help but ask what you all know from your mother.

🩵​He lives in the past, you can tell that as you indulge him and tell him of memories your mother has told you about his father and his mother. The most talkative you witness him is when you tell him about the past as his happiness only exists within that place. He clings to what was and you want to try to shift his focus to the now. In a way you succeed, though perhaps not quite as you had imagined. Sasuke bonds with you over his past, bonds with you. It's the first time that he has actually formed a functioning relationship with someone ever since the death of his brother and his emotions almost instantly latch on to you as a result. Sasuke is demanding. If he is going to have a future in this world then you will be in it. One way or another he is going to have you in his life and he doesn't need your consens for that. You should rejoice though, after all you can do exactly the job you are supposed to do for him. You can help him to get better, to start a new life. Sure, the methods might be vastly different from what you are supposed to do for your patients but he's sure that you will do whatever it takes to help to get him better. Otherwise he mightdestroy the progress you have made with him.

[aceofheartsssss]

❤️ Deadpool 🖤 and 💛 Wolverine🖤 x Reader Scenarios

Yes, I’ve got a thing for them, how did you know? Everybody is in LOVE with Deadpool and Wolverine and I’ve seen some bubs say that they want fics and I want them too, so I made some scenariossss cuz DAMN IT, Wade and Logan are hot~ Go read my older stuff they feel abandoned :( Summary: Scenarios on how they’d act if they had a crush on you, how they’d act if y’all were a thing, yada yada, fluff, slight spiciness, etc. Let’s fucking go! ❤️💛 Warnings: Swearing, slightly spicy, and mentions of violence but y’all gon have to get used to that on my blog-

- Deadpool/Wade (I’ve loved him for years, he’s just so fineeee~)

How you’d act as friends (but you grew on him tho)

Sometimes he accidentally starts acting a little less intense and silly, and more soft around you, then he quickly snaps out of it

He keeps flirting, usual for him, but his flirting is more intense around you

He doesn’t want to admit his feelings because he thinks you’ll reject him because of his scarred body and face (aww ☹️)

He’s always showing off and posing whenever he fights and kills around you~

He keeps trying to hug, touch, kiss and do shit like that (it’s Deadpool, c’mon man)

He literally does not shut up for one second around you

He actually blushes underneath the mask when you actually say something nice to him instead of yelling (he’s so glad you can’t see his face most of the time 👉👈)

You love to watch movies and shit with him because he makes them way more fun than they already are

He finds his own crazy, actually insane ways to spend a lot of time with you (like you don’t wanna know his complicated plots-)

He likes giving you the most random and useless things (aww)

He secretly loves it when you genuinely laugh at his shenanigans

He really knows how to stick to you so he’ll slowly grow on you like mold

How you’d act as partners (he’s stuck on like glue)

Now that he’s got full access to you, he will never stop touching you (cuddling, hand holding, hugging, poking, kissing, getting it on, etc.)

He constantly reminds you how he feels about you~

Constant compliments cuz yeah- 😭❤️

”Sweetheart,” “Babe,” “Baby,” “My love-”

He’s mostly dom but switches cuz he really enjoys being, uhh… (well, you watched the movies…)

He could and probably would kill anyone who tried to hurt you in any way possible (traumatized red man hates evil ppl 🗡️)

You best believe he’s good getting shit on, considering the experience and his super-powered… tools... (He’s really good…)

He’s the kind of guy who would literally never cheat and would quite literally be in love with you… forever (I mean it, he really is like that-)

He’d go broke trying to buy you stuff he thinks you want- 😭

You best believe that he’d do anything in his power to make sure you guys can be together as long as possible (he’d make a deal with the devil if it meant you had an extended lifespan like his)

He likes eating and chatting with you (so fun- 🌮🍔🍕)

He is the best hugger and cuddle-r with that big, strong, textured body~ (imagine omg-)

Beneath all the trauma, the killing, the humor, jokes, he really is just a big, soft, cuddly boi 👏✨

He’s just a playful guy, like you’d never get bored

-

Wolverine/Logan (as feral as an actual wolverine for him~)

How you’d act as friends (he kinda doesn’t know he likes you)

He’s nicer (slightly) to you than to anyone else and he doesn’t know why

He taunts other people (*cough* Wade-) along with you instead of against you (despite what he usually does)

He throws out an accidental compliment here and there (his eyes go wide when he realizes~ 💛)

Out of character for him, he snaps at people who mock, taunt, tease, flirt, or throw insults at you (I wonder why~)

You’ll catch him smirking or smiling before he fixes it and frowns again

He’s so touch starved but can’t say anything because of his own Wolverine-y reasons (tough boi 😔)

He’ll melt if you initiate the touches (hugs, cheek kisses, hand holding, random “friendly” patting, etc.)

He finds himself hanging around you more than anyone else despite apparently hating people

How you’d act as partners (he wants you as much as possible)

He’d spent as much time with you as possible, always holding you tight

He compliments you however he can

He never wants to let you go (he’s scared of losing you because of his extended lifespan)

Get ready for the most overprotective, husband material man, who’d likely beat anyone to a pulp for you~

He’d give the nastiest death glare to anyone that’s being negative towards you (it’s so sexy tho-)

Don’t tease or taunt him… (or do 😰)

He’s always a stiff man, but around you he’s just… different

He melts at your touch, and this kitty definitely has Puss in Boots eyes (🥺)

”Love,” “Doll,” “Bub,” “Darlin’,”

He def dom all the time, y’all seen the movies-

He’s very good btw. Like a loooot- Soft but rough ngl (idk how but he is, trust-)

He’s into pain… *wink* (canon btw)

He’d treat you right like a fucking gentleman

He’s a nice cuddle-r despite the tough exterior (he’s so touchable, he’d squeeze you so tightttt)

He’s just a comforting, big, strong guy, who wouldn’t want that?

There we go, bubs. Had to get it outta my system~

Lemme know if ya liked my writing, I need the compliments/advice.

(Yessss tie them up…)

[silliest-sideblog]

New Years Kiss

Pairing: Etho/Tango

Length: 1k words

A/N: It's technically New Years here already and I wanted to post this before people are heading out. So here's another little Slabtek fic, this time for new years eve!

Technically it's set after my other fic "Just a little distraction" but it's not relevant. I just wanted to write something indulgent for the holidays.

Happy New Years everyone, hope I can get even more writing done next year!

Etho and Tango sit in the reiling of the steampunk blimp that looms above Tango's still unfinished factory, looking towards where Cub is hosting a large fireworks show with the help of some of the others. There's food and people are talking and laughing.

Almost everyone is there, but not these two.

Of course they love their friends and enjoy spending time with them but it's already so noisy and crowded at times and right now they prefer the quiet of it all. Plus Tango insists the view from up here is so much better than being up close.

They sit, legs dangling, and just watch over the server for a while. It's a comfortable silence around them, without the need to fill it.

Tango got out his notepad occasionally to write down some idea or another that went through his head, telling Etho about it as he writes.

Neither of them has a clock on them and they don't know how late it is.

Eventually, Etho breaks the silence."So when do we get sappy and talk about the past year?"

The smile is audible in his voice and Tango doesn't even need to look up to see the way his eyes crinkle slightly alongside it.

"We don't have to if you don't wanna" he just offers in return. Neither of them is the type for this kind of stuff anyway.

Etho shrug and they sit in silence once more but now that Etho mentioned it once, Tango is of course thinking about it anyway.

"It sure was a year. Thought I would've gotten more done" Tango sighs. He's now looking down at his unfinished factory. "Thought I'd at least have that thing done a bit more done by now. Instead I spent half the year in a hole and the other half fixing this mess." he laughs sorely.

Etho gently kicks against his boot.

"You got everyone addicted to your game. Again." he throws in and Tango knows that it's not just to cheer him up.

"Only took me what? 5 months? And even then it was kind of a mess. All the bugs and so much that went wrong..."

A beat later, "Sorry. Didn't want to spend the last few minutes of the year being miserable" Tango says but he can't help the slight smile in his voice because Etho knows how he is. And Tango knows that Etho doesn't mind; that sometimes Tango needs to talk himself down, let out an annoyed sigh at himself and get to it. But there's not really a getting to it now on New Year's now, is there?

But the sigh already helps enough.

"What about you? Happy with this one?" Tango asks, changing the subject away from himself. Funny thing how neither of them can stand bring the focus for too long.

"Sure, could say that." Etho says but doesn't really elaborate.

Many good things have happened for the both of them. They made games for their friends and had the joy of watching them play and laugh. Struggle and get better.

Etho got over himself and built a roof for his house, something he's at least decently happy with.

Tangos factory is, despite the flaws he's deeply unhappy with, quite the impressive piece of redstone work.

The time they spent with everyone, laughing and learning from each other, watching their friends grow and live alongside them.

Neither of them says it out loud but that's what's been filling this year for them.

Another thing they don't say out loud, not earlier, not right now, is them. For a few months now they have been closer than ever before and since that one afternoon in the redstone of Hungry Hermits...

Things have changed between them, kisses have been stolen away, nights spent at the others, mostly Etho's, base; Tango's starter house being mostly unused at this point.

Still they haven't talked about it. Why would they? It's not like that would change anything.

Or it would. It would put expectations up, and Tango doesn't know if he's ready for that.

What would Etho even expect from him? Dates? Kissing? To tell other people?

Tango is lost in his own thoughts, he barely hears Etho's question.

"How long do you think we still have till midnight?"

"Huh?" Tango looks up at him, taking a moment to register the question and as his brain catches up and he wants to reply, the fireworks are beginning to light up the night sky.

And Tango can't take his eyes off Etho, his face illuminated by the flickering lights all over the night sky.

What would be expected of them? Shouldn't they kiss now?

Does it matter what's expected of them?

"Happy new year, Etho" Tango says with a bright smile as he realizes it doesn't matter.

He can see Etho return the expression, see it in his eyes, his eyebrows, the way his cheeks move under the mask.

Carefully, Tango reaches out and pulls on the fabric and Etho doesn't stop him. He never has.

Slowly their lips meet, as if they're making this something special.

Tango smiles into the kiss. He wouldn't have expected to be the type of person who enjoys something as dumb as a kiss on new years but here he is. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Of course it feels silly and cheesy and neither of them really need it. But maybe that is part of the charm.

Once Tango pulls back he cant stop grinning at Etho. And that grin doesn't vanish when the taller one starts leaning his head on Tango's shoulder, slouching slightly to get comfortable.

Tango's tail wraps around his waist affectionately and he hears Etho say quietly, "Happy New Year, Tango."

[fairyniceyeah]

💎🐈‍⬛When did we normalize danger?

Title from SOS (SEVENTEEN)

Summary: “Hey, Wonwoo-yah”, Seungcheol greeted happily, “how is your photoshoot going?” “Hyung? Can you come and get me?”, Wonwoo whispered, feeling a bit choked up all of a sudden. 

CW: emeto, medical issues with the eyes

Whumpee/Sickie: Wonwoo Caretaker(s): S.Coups/Seungcheol + Jeonghan

(It’s okay)

“Okay, nearly done”, the stylist noona announced, fixing a few strands of Wonwoo’s hair before stepping back to inspect her work. “I think I outdid myself.”

“You did, noona”, Wonwoo agreed, laughing at her proud smile. He was at a solo photoshoot to model for The Face Shop again, an activity he enjoyed more than he ever thought he would. The staff was always the same and they were very kind and forthcoming. He had grown quite close to them, as much as work allowed. “Can I keep my glasses on or do I need to switch to contact lenses?”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to go with the lenses this time, sweetie”, she said, looking very apologetic though it certainly wasn’t her fault. “Apparently in this studio due to the new lamps the glasses might reflect the light so that the pictures will be useless.”

“It’s not your fault”, Wonwoo protested, already rifling through his backpack to find his contact lens case. Where had he put it? When he couldn’t just find it with touch alone, he completely opened his bag and searched through it.

Yet the contact lens case didn’t turn up.

For a moment, horror washed over him. A hot flush of shame encased his body and he felt his hands start to tremble badly. This was the worst case scenario - normally he was so diligent and reliable. For a reason. He hated inconveniencing others and currently, if he had no contacts, he would either end up accidentally squinting on camera and have to rely on somebody to get around or they might even have to break the contract - an expensive collaboration between their company and The Face Shop - if the pictures didn’t work out. 

“Everything okay, Wonwoo-ssi?”, the stylist asked worriedly.

“I … I can’t find my contact lenses. I think I forgot them at home”, he whispered, bowing his head in shame. “I am so sorry.”

“Oh”, she said, “well, maybe your manager has a back-up pair?”

“I … I don’t know. I’ll ask”, Wonwoo said, cursing his own stupidity. Of all the days of this to happen was when there was a scheduling conflict, leaving him completely on his own at the other company. The manager had just dropped him off and then driven away to run an errand or something. It was moments like this that made Wonwoo hate solo schedules with a passion. He would have given a lot for his Seungcheol-hyung to take over dealing with the situation and his Jeonghannie-hyung’s comforting hugs. 

Instead, he called the manager, hoping he had a solution.

💎

Fifteen minutes later the manager hurried in, handing over a contact case he had luckily found in the glove compartment of the car.

“My lifesaver, thank you”, Wonwoo thanked him with a deep bow, “I’m sorry for the … well, for everything.”

“No worries, Wonwoo-yah. I really need to go now, though. Remember to take your eyedrops before”, the manager said and vanished again.

Wonwoo took out his eyedrops, putting them in. He hated them with a passion but there was nothing he could do. His eyes were always so dry - one of the reasons he never really wore contacts in the first place, the other his hand tremor making it too hard to put them in - and today wasn’t a good day to begin with. As he unpacked the lenses, he accidentally had a glance at the expiration date printed on the case. 

At once his heart dropped to his stomach. With the expiry rate this close to that day’s date it was clear that this was a very, very old pair. If he had to guess likely from over three years ago - meaning that it wasn’t his current prescription. He knew that it wasn’t the best idea to wear lenses that were so outdated and would probably hurt his eyes but he also couldn’t just not wear them. Not after his manager had run all the way down to the car to get them. Not if he would otherwise be a stumbling, blind idiot who should have remembered to pack the right prescription that morning. He’d rather have slightly less blurry sight than go completely without help, thank you very much. 

Putting them in was as awful as it always was. It was hard to place them with his hand shaking so much. And, beside the fact that it was just wrong to have something directly on his eyes, he just couldn’t tell if they were placed correctly. After fumbling around for a few minutes, he gave up. It would have to do.

Already he could feel the headache starting.

When he arrived at the studio where they would take the pictures he was regretting his decision. It was even more awful to see less blurry than he normally did. At least that level he was used to. But taking the lenses out again was out of the question.

At least the atmosphere at the set was nice. He had worked with that particular photographer before and liked him well enough. It would be doable. Then he recognized belatedly who the woman waiting for him was.

“Good morning, Wonwoo-ssi”, the director greeted him with a small bow.

Wonwoo smiled at her, greeting her as well. He liked the woman, though she was a high executive for The Face Shop she always took the time to come greet him when he was asked to model for them - like today. It was nice to chat with her and often she would speak about the concept and even watch some of the photoshoot later on. He considered himself very lucky that she approached him with grace and kindness, never once making anything awkward despite his own awkwardness and shyness around strangers.

“I’m sorry for the delay”, he apologized, bowing his head.

“Don’t worry about it. Stuff happens. Sadly, I won’t be able to watch the whole shoot today but I will pop in sometimes to see how it’s going, alright?”

“Thank you, director-nim.”

💎

(No, no more)

Two hours later, Wonwoo was done with the day.

Constantly trying to compensate for blurry vision and simultaneously trying not to look like he was doing it was hard. A headache was pounding in his skull at the same time as his heartbeat. His eyes were extremely dry and stung so badly he could barely tolerate the harsh overhead lights. A dull sense of nausea swirled in his stomach - topping off a terrible day.

Yet, he continued. There was no sense in breaking off the photo shoot now and going back another day. Even worse, the director had come back in a few minutes ago - he liked her a lot, that was true, but he really wasn’t up for any idle chit-chat or for her to watch him as he fumbled his way through the shoot. He knew it wasn’t up to his standard, he knew he would hate whatever pictures the photographer would take.

“Wonwoo-ssi? Is everything alright?”, the director asked out of the blue. Wonwoo looked up, blinking harshly and trying to focus on her. His head swirled for a moment as he tried to adjust himself to look over where the photographer and the director were talking quietly with each other.

He couldn’t bring out much more than a pathetic: “Huh?”

“Your eyes look really red and watery”, the photographer commented, “let’s pull the pictures up on the screen but I’m afraid it will show.”

Closing his eyes for a moment, Wonwoo took a deep breath and stepped down the platform he had been standing on for the shoot. Well, he tried to. With his vision blurry as it was he misstepped, expecting a bigger height than it actually was and slammed his foot against the ground. Immediately a hot pain shot up his ankle up to his calf, causing Wonwoo to stumble and drawing a sharp hiss from between his teeth.

“Are you alright?”, the director asked worriedly, hurrying over to Wonwoo who stood rooted to the ground as he tried to figure out if it was just a momentary pain or something worse. 

“I …”, Wonwoo tried to speak up but broke off. He wasn’t alright, so much was clear. But he also couldn’t just ask to stop the photoshoot now, could he?

“It’s your foot, isn’t it? The impact looked painful? Did you misjudge the distance or were you dizzy or something?”, the director fretted. Wonwoo didn’t expect her to reach out to him, flinching as she touched his arm. 

He could tell he was getting overwhelmed, everything becoming just a bit too much and too big for him. His ankle was throbbing, his eyes and head were aching and he was slowly becoming really dizzy and nauseous from his swimming vision. 

The director seemed to take his silence and flinch as a sign that something was wrong, apologizing for scaring him and then adding: “Come on, let’s sit down, okay?”

Wonwoo let himself be pushed down onto the step, sitting down and stretching out his leg. Now that the immediate moment of impact was over he could tell it was indeed just the shock that had hurt, the pain in his foot slowly ebbing away.

At least something, even if he nearly wished that it was instead the headache that had faded. 

“I’m fine, director-nim”, he said then, glad he finally found his words. “I think I just slipped. The pain is much better. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Are you sure? That looked painful”, she replied, sounding unconvinced. 

“Yeah, I’m good to continue. My foot is fine, really.”

“What’s wrong with your eyes then?”, she asked bluntly. “Wonwoo-ssi, I’m really sorry, even if we wanted to continue - your eyes look really red and swollen. What is going on today? This isn’t like you.”

Wonwoo sighed, not really wanting to reveal his struggle to her. He was still a bit embarrassed about forgetting the contacts in the first place and he knew that he was costing both companies a lot of money at the moment.

“I … I forgot my contact lenses at home”, he started hesitantly, despite his weariness. She had been nothing but kind to him and he really had nothing to win with lying anyways, if they couldn’t continue. He didn’t want to imagine how bad his eyes looked considering how awful they felt. “My manager had some old ones in the car but it’s a really old prescription and normally my eyes don’t do well with contacts anyways. Guess it’s all catching up to me now.”

The director hummed sympathetically. “You’re having a really crappy day, hm? Why don’t you call your manager and go home? I think we should have enough pictures for it to work out. If not we’ll just reschedule the shoot. It’s no big issue. There is no sense in continuing. And don’t you dare apologize again.”

“Sorry”, Wonwoo offered, then sheepishly ducked his head. “I, yeah, I guess I should go home.”

What else was there to be done? 

The director even went so far as to grab him something to drink and get his phone so he could call somebody to take him home. As he held his phone in his hand, ready to dial the manager, he was hit with a sudden sense of longing.

The manager was a kind man and he had been with the team for a long time. But …

… if Wonwoo was really honest to himself, he just wanted his hyungs after everything that had happened.

Without further thought, scared he would talk himself out of it if he hesitated any longer, Wonwoo dialed the number and lifted his phone to his ear, closing his eyes in exhaustion.

“Hey, Wonwoo-yah”, Seungcheol greeted happily, “how is your photoshoot going?”

“Hyung? Can you come and get me?”, Wonwoo whispered, feeling a bit choked up all of a sudden. 

“Yes, of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can”, Seungcheol promised immediately, with no hint of hesitation, his voice dripping with concern, “but Wonwoo-yah, what happened?”

“It’s a long story.”

💎

By the time Seungcheol arrived, Wonwoo was desperate for a hug. He had already switched back to the jeans and comfy hoodie he had arrived in, most of the make-up wiped away. However, no matter how much he had tried and no matter how careful the stylist had been during her tries, they couldn’t get the contacts out.

Wonwoo knew it was a risk - using them with dry eyes always was a bad idea - but now with his eyes burning and watering it seemed to be impossible.

“Wonwoo-yah”, Seungcheol called, rushing inside the room not caring for anything but getting to his dongsaeng. 

“Hyung”, Wonwoo replied, his voice coming out shakier and more desperate than expected. He turned around on the swivel make-up chair just in time. Within seconds he was wrapped in a strong embrace, Seungcheol holding him tightly and even gently cupping Wonwoo’s head to his chest with his hand. 

“I’m here, baby”, Seungcheol said and Wonwoo could just imagine the worried pout he probably had on his face, the same one he always had when one of his “kids” was sick or injured. Just breathing in his leader’s perfume gave Wonwoo a sense of home, making him grab onto the back of Seungcheol’s hoodie. He was aware that he was embarrassing himself in front of the director and the stylist but for once he couldn't care less.

After a few moments of just rocking them both from side to side, Seungcheol carefully pulled away. Wonwoo reluctantly let him, dropping his hands to his lap and staring down. 

Suddenly he was embarrassed. He never should have asked Seungcheol to come - the leader had a lot on his plate and Wonwoo could have easily called the manager. Well, the manager might not have been available but that was a different story. Seungcheol hadn’t needed to drive across the whole city just to collect one of his hyung-line members who was too stupid to remember to pack his contact lenses. 

“Ah, ah, I know that face”, Seungcheol said, his hand coming up to cradle Wonwoo’s cheek, “don’t apologize. From what you said I know you had a terrible day and, I’m sorry for being this blunt, but you look awful. I’m glad to be here for you.”

“Thanks”, Wonwoo mumbled quietly, face heating up under the caring attention. It always blew his mind just how much Seungcheol loved them all, loved him.

“Thank you for coming to take him home, S.Coups-ssi”, the director said, stepping over to them in the silence that followed, “I’m the director. Nice to meet you in person.” 

“Nice to meet you too”, Seungccheol replied politely, bowing slightly. “Is it alright if I take Wonwoo home now or is there anything you need to talk about with the contract?”

“No, no. Take him. If there is anything we need to go, I’ll call his manager in the next few days. Maybe we got enough good pictures before we needed to stop. I think the most important thing right now is to get his contacts out.”

“They are not out?”, the leader asked worriedly, turning to Wonwoo again, automatically placing his hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder.

Wonwoo shook his head. “I couldn’t. It hurts. I can’t keep my eyes open to get them and with my hand tremor I’m not steady enough anyway.”

Seungcheol hummed unhappily. “I doubt you want to go to the ER. Why don’t I drive us home and then we can try to figure out how to do this? I think Hannie can help. What do you think?”

“Yeah, let’s go home”, Wonwoo croaked. 

💎

Getting to the car was a mess. By the time they made it, Wonwoo was shaking all over, vision swimming so badly he could barely see anything but vague lights and he was clutching Seungcheol’s arm for dear life. The headache had not relented and he wasn’t sure if the rolling feeling in his stomach was nerves or nausea.

He collapsed into the seat, too exhausted to even buckle himself up. So Seungcheol did, gently talking to Wonwoo about his day to keep his mind off everything. How he had gotten brunch with the maknae-line members, how Seungkwan and Dino had play-fought over the last egg and gotten so distracted with it that they hadn’t noticed Vernon peeling and eating the whole thing until it was gone. How long and boring the meeting with the company executives was. How he had worked in the studio with Woozi, who had accidentally deleted a sample when he had sneezed and consequently pouted through the whole writing session. How he had been dancing with Jeonghan when Wonwoo had called. It was a nice distraction, enough to loosen some of the tension in Wonwoo’s shoulders. 

“Close your eyes”, Seungcheol suggested as he started the ignition, “sleep if you can. We’ll figure everything out, okay?”

Wonwoo hummed in response, taking the advice. 

He didn’t manage to fall asleep, however. The stop and go of the Seoul traffic was causing his stomach to slowly turn even more sour than before. It was no surprise, Wonwoo was normally already prone to motion sickness and apparently closing his eyes was the wrong move. Normally he would be fine in the front seat so maybe the issue was that his eyes couldn’t tell his body which motion to expect. 

So he opened his eyes only to realize … that this wasn’t a solution at all. With his vision so blurry he couldn’t tell what was about to happen anyway. If anything the bright light was making his eyes burn and his head pound more.

It took about three intersections and the constant rocking of the car when stopping and starting again, that Wonwoo had to admit defeat. Holding out was not an option.

“Hyungie”, he spoke up quietly, hesitantly.

“Yeah?” Seungcheol seemed completely focused on the street in front of him, for which Wonwoo was thankful but he also just wanted him to realize what was wrong without having to speak up. 

Today was really not his day.

“I’m … I’m really nauseous.” Wonwoo breathed out. “I think I’m carsick...”

“Oh. Okay. Uhm, try to look out the front … oh…” Seungcheol realized the problem quickly. Wonwoo could imagine the concerned frown of his face perfectly.

“Yeah”, he whispered. 

“It’s still about fifteen minutes of driving. I can’t really pull over anywhere…”, Seungcheol said worriedly - probably both for his dongsaeng and his car interior. “Do you think you can hold out that long?”

Wonwoo bit his lip. His stomach was really upset now and his whole body was clouded in the shroud of nausea that made everything feel lethargic and unwell. His throat was tight in a very uncomfortable way and he had to compulsory swallow every few seconds.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.” He felt close to crying but it was bad enough that he was mostly blind and carsick in his hyung’s car. If Wonwoo started to cry now he didn’t think he could ever stop again.

“Okay, it’s okay”, Seungcheol said, probably sensing Wonwoo’s impending breakdown and resting one of his hands on Wonwoo’s knee. “I don’t think I have a bag. Let’s just put your backpack on the backseat just in case. The floor matts can be cleaned easily enough.”

There was nothing Wonwoo wanted to do less than throw up in his hyung’s car - literally. 

He grabbed his bag nevertheless and haphazardly threw it into the back, then leaned straight up against the seat, hoping it would help somehow. Seungcheol’s hand never left his knee.

💎

After a few minutes of deep breaths, he couldn’t help it anymore. He was so nauseous it was painful, his stomach cramping under his hand, the other hand pressed to his mouth. All he could do was swallow and pray.

“Wonwoo, baby, don’t hurt yourself”, Seungcheol interfered gently, “if you need to be sick, let it happen. Maybe you’ll feel better after. It’s really okay.” The leader's attention seemed to be more on Wonwoo than on the traffic now, as loud honks signaled.

“Eyes on the ro…”, Wonwoo pressed out, a sudden gag surprising him. It all happened so quickly that he couldn’t stop it. His body bent forward without any of his conscious doing, a prelude of what was to happen. Spreading his legs was all he could do before he was throwing up onto the expensive interior. He pressed his burning eyes shut against the sight.

“Shh, breathe”, Seungcheol soothed, patting Wonwoo’s back even while driving. Vaguely Wonwoo hoped he was paying more attention to the street now but he was too preoccupied with turning himself inside out to worry too much about it. 

His stomach contracted again and again and everything that Wonwoo had eaten spilled down his lips and dripped down his chin. He was so nauseated and dizzy he could barely tell where up and down was, his hands pressing against his head, elbows on his knees, the only thing giving him a bit of orientation. 

He felt disgusting, nauseous, sweaty and most of all very humiliated and tired. His stomach was churning relentlessly and he didn’t dare lift his head up for the rest of the drive even when he hadn’t thrown up in a good five minutes. He probably was just empty though, nausea still present nevertheless. 

The headache seemed to reach new highs as he sat there trembling all over, sure he would lose any grip he had on himself should Seungcheol take his hand off his back. And indeed, as they pulled into the parking garage of their building and Seungcheol had to let go of him to park, Wonwoo couldn’t help the whimper escaping his lips. Tears and snot streamed down his face.

“Oh, Wonwoo-yah”, Seungcheol said, sounding a bit helpless. “We’re here. It’s gonna be alright. I texted Hannie, he is gonna help us get upstairs. We’ll get the contacts out and then you can go to sleep for as long as you want.”

They stayed like that with Wonwoo queasily bent over his mess and Seungcheol rubbing his back and muttering comforting nonsense until the passenger door was opened and Jeonghan said: “Oh, Wonwoo, baby. Come on, let’s get out of the car.”

With the help of his second oldest hyung, Wonwoo was able to stand on wobbly legs while holding onto Jeonghan for stability. All his strength had left him between entering the car and now getting out and as he could barely open his eyes anymore he was terribly disoriented. It was easier to just close his aching eyes and depend on his hyungs.

“Can you get him upstairs, Hannie?”, Seungcheol asked, voice coming closer as he exited the car himself and placed a warm hand on Wonwoo’s hip. “I’ll try to clean out the car.”

Wonwoo buried his face in Jeonghan’s shoulder, clutching at his hyung in humiliation. “I’m so sorry”, he whispered, voice muffled by the comfortable sweatshirt Jeongan wore. 

“Don’t be sorry”, Seungcheol comforted, “it’s alright. You’re not well.”

“Let’s go, hm?”, Jeonghan said, wrapping his arm around Wonwoo’s waist to guide him. “You trust hyung, don’t you?”

All Wonwoo could do was nod and let himself be led.

💎

Jeonghan brought him to the apartment Wonwoo shared with their general leader, Joshua, Mingyu and Minghao. They were all familiar with the layouts of each other's apartments, spending a lot of time just cycling through the dorms but Wonwoo was still glad for the familiarity. 

At least it seemed like none of the other members were home at the moment.

Wonwoo was sat down on the closed toilet seat, slumping into himself in exhaustion while Jeonghan bustled around. 

“Are you still nauseous?”, Jeonghan asked before a clattering sound signaled to Wonwoo that he had placed down a bucket just in case no matter what Wonwoo would answer. 

“A bit”, he admitted, “but it’s now more from my headache than motion sickness.”

“Is it from the contact lenses or something else?”, Jeonghan asked, his voice sounding close like he was crouched down in front of Wonwoo. Indeed, a few seconds later, Jeonghan took his hand and pressed a cup into his hand. “Rinse.”

How did Jeonghan know? Then again, Seungcheol probably had texted him the whole story or at least enough information that Jeonghan knew what was going on. 

Playing for time, Wonwoo swished out his mouth with the offered mouthwash, happy to wash the taste of puke away. It was then that he realized he needed to get to the sink to spit it out and he really didn’t want to get up and stumbled his way there. 

As if he had read his mind Jeonghan advised: “Just spit it back into the cup, I can dump it out in the sink. You rest.”

Too dizzy and exhausted to fight the renewed embarrassment creeping up on him, Wonwoo did as asked. He felt terribly self-conscious when he pressed the cup over his mouth and let the mouthwash fall back into it but Jeonghan didn’t seem to care. He just took the cup from him and set it aside, then patted Wonwoo’s knee.

“Tell me how you feel”, Jeonghan encouraged, pushing a strand of Wonwoo’s hair behind his ear. 

“My head hurts”, Wonwoo hesitantly started. “Maybe because of how blurry my vision is. Or due to dehydration” - a mix of throwing up and crying would do that - “I dunno. My eyes are burning really badly and I can barely see when I open my eyes. I just want to sleep.”

“You can soon, hm?”, Jeonghan said in his soothing voice, reserved for hysterical and sad dongsaengs. If he wasn’t so exhausted Wonwoo would have been offended that he used it on him. “Let’s try to get those contacts out. Pain meds and sleep after.”

💎

It wasn’t as easy as Jeonghan had seemed to imagine. The dryness of his eyes caused the lenses to stick to Wonwoo’s eyes, and the burning pain from the wrong prescription and the blurriness of his vision caused Wonwoo to not being able to keep his eyes open, especially as he closed them reflexively when the darkness of Jeonghan’s finger came close.

After numerous fruitless tries, Wonwoo gave a frustrated cry, curling into himself as much as he could. It was a scary experience - something in his eyes that was damaging them and refused to come out terrifying. Especially with his already fragile state of mind he was slowly becoming numb and restless at the same time.

That was when Seungcheol came in, apparently having cleaned … no, Wonwoo didn’t want to think about it. 

“No success?”, he asked worriedly, seeing Jeonghan hovering over Wonwoo, with the latter hugging himself in defeat.

“No.” Jeonghan sighed. “ER?”

“No, please”, Wonwoo whispered. He couldn’t take going to a bustling hospital on top of everything. 

“Let’s try a different approach and if that doesn’t work, we will go to the doctor”, Seungcheol decided.

💎

Five minutes later, Wonwoo found himself basically sitting on Seungcheol’s lap, leaning back against his leader and wrapped safely in his arms. The hyungs had decided they should relocate to the couch to create a more relaxed atmosphere which apparently meant that Wonwoo was going to be cuddled. If he was honest, he didn’t mind. 

Seungcheol was leaning back against the backrest and had Wonwoo rest against his shoulder so that Jeonghan had easy access to his eyes.

“Are you comfy?”, the leader asked gently.

“Yeah”, Wonwoo mumbled, feeling the tips of his ears turn red. Deep down he loved the doting and coddling but it was weird nevertheless. It seemed so exposed in the living room where suddenly a member coming home from schedules could see. 

“Okay, I’m going to put in more eyedrops now”, Jeonghan said and carefully squeezed some of the liquid into Wonwoo’s eyes. “Blink a bit to get it moving around.”

Wonwoo did as bid. 

“Ready?”, Jeonghan asked. Wonwoo nodded, for the first time feeling like he could do this. Seungcheol had taken his hands in his own, their intertwined hands a nice weight on Wonwoo’s stomach. With Seungcheol holding him and Jeonghan’s gentleness, maybe this could work.

Jeonghan pushed his eyelid up, which made Wonwoo’s eyes burn. But then he realized it was very dark in the room and he couldn’t even see Jeonghan’s face or his hands. 

“Why is it so dark?”, he asked, fear making his chest ache. Rationally he knew he was overreacting but having issues with his eyes and then opening to find himself unable to see anything was unsettling. “What…?”

“Shhh, it’s okay”, Seungcheol soothed, playing with Wonwoo’s fingers in comfort. “We thought it might be easier for you if you couldn’t see your hyungs’ hand coming closer. I promise there is enough light for Hannie to see what he is doing. I thought you heard us talking but you were really spaced out, huh?”

“I guess”, Wonwoo mumbled, feeling a bit ridiculous how he had overreacted. But well, with the day he had, no wonder his nerves were fried. The rational explanation of his emotional state barely comforted him.

“Okay, love, take a deep breath while I wash my hands again. I’m going to be very careful, okay?”, Jeonghan said, his thumb rubbing Wonwoo’s cheek. 

Wonwoo nodded and breathed.

💎

All too soon Jeonghan was back. Gently he pushed the eyelid up again. Then without any warning, Wonwoo could feel his hand connect and then: “I got it.”

Tears streamed down Wonwoo’s cheek in relief. 

“Let’s do the other side as well, okay?”, Jeonghan said.

This time it wasn’t so easy. The lense didn’t seem to want to stick to Jeonghan’s finger, no matter how he tried. 

“Baby, I can’t keep doing this. One more try and then I feel like we need to consult a specialist”, Jeonhan mumbled, sounding devastated. By that time, Wonwoo was so exhausted that he couldn’t care less. Did he want to go to the hospital? Obviously not. But if it put him out of misery he could do it.

“I’m sorry.”

Suddenly faced with the very real possibility of going to the ER and getting prodded by doctors and nurses and especially with having to drive there, Wonwoo did not want that. “Can you try one more time, hyung?”

“One last time, baby”, Jeonghan agreed, “breathe.”

Wonwoo closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Do it.”

Jeonghan’s finger made contact with his eye. A cheer. Congratulations. Words spoken in kindness and comfort. Wonwoo just closed his eyes and let the tears fall again. Seungcheol turned Wonwoo so that he was laying on his stomach, on top of his leader who was rubbing his back and whispering sweet nothingness.

💎

Wonwoo woke up hours later to a blanket spread over him and Seungcheol and a hand holding his. His eyes burned and hurt but not nearly as badly as before. Blinking against the low light coming from the kitchen, he found Jeonghan asleep sitting on the ground by their side, leaning back against the couch and his fingers entangled with Wonwoo’s. Somebody had placed a pillow against his neck and he looked mostly comfortable, also cuddled up under a blanket.

Minghao, holding a cup of tea, was smiling at him from the second couch. Soft clatter from the kitchen indicated Joshua and Mingyu cooking together.

Wonwoo sighed and nuzzled his face into Seungcheol’s shoulder. He was cozy like this.

(It’s okay, again)

Notes: Written for this Dialogue prompt idea for @dudadragneel! It’s not June anymore but I finally finished it! Also, based on this prompt!

Masterlist links: Fairy's Full Masterlist Fairy's Masterlist - SEVENTEEN

[fantasylover145]

It's so funny that Eddie and Buck have the exact opposite problem in relationships. Eddie has a tendency to run. Eddie ran when Shannon got pregnant and he ran to the army, when things got to hard in Texas he ran to LA. Like with Marisol and Ana as soon as they were getting real Eddie ran as fast as he could. He ran away from the 118 because of Christopher's fear and now is running away from LA to go to Christopher instead of talking AGAIN.

Whereas, Buck has a tendency to cling, he held on way to tight to Abby even though everyone told him to move on. Then with Taylor, he had been through so much trauma, had been assaulted and Chim, his niece, his sister all left him as well as his best friend, so he clung to Taylor even though you could already see it wasn't working even before Lucy. Then as soon as issues started surfacing with Tommy he overcompensated and clung on too hard.

The problem with Eddie is he never communicates to anyone in his ife, not with his partner, his best friend, his son, not unless he is forced to and will run as soon as he sees the chance to because he thinks that will fix everything, that it will make it better. Eddie thinks that by doing these dramatic life changing things that they will somehow solve all his issues instead of actually putting in the work and communicating with his loved ones. So no one can really trust Eddie because he will make unilateral decisions without ever consulting anyone in his life and everyone is left out in the dark.

On the other hand Buck is holding on too tight, I think in part because he doesn't think he will get any better, likes the comfortability and the idea of being in a relationship even when it's not good for him and should let go. Buck genuinely likes his partners and while he is willing to put in the work, he clings on way to tight because of his fear of abandonment and fear of ending up alone. Buck needs to do some reflection on what he wants in a partner because while he does genuinely likes his partners. He really should be figuring out what he wants his life to look like, what he wants in a partner and what he wants his future to look like.

If Buck and Eddie do get together they need to work on their relationship issues. Eddie needs to stop making unilateral decisions that affect other people and actually communicate with them otherwise they will never truly trust him to stick around. Buck has seen this pattern with Eddie numerous times before with Shannon and Chris but also with Buck himself. Eddie continuously has made major life decisions and only told people that it will affect waaaaaay too late. He told Shannon he was doing another tour after he already re-enlisted, he told everyone including Buck that he was leaving the 118 after he already quit, Chris had no say over Eddie quitting at all, Eddie told Buck a year after that he put him in his will and only accidentally Buck finds out that Eddie is thinking of moving back to Texas. If they get together Buck already has abandonment issues and while Eddie typically has a good reason he never actually talks to anyone before making the decision to leave. Buck is going to always be terrified that Eddie is hiding something else or is going to leave or has made some other life changing decision without telling anyone first. How is Buck supposed to trust that Eddie won't just bolt as soon as shit gets hard?! How is Buck supposed to trust that Eddie hasn't got one foot out the door?!

But with Buck, he needs to figure out what the fuck he actually wants. Like Taylor and Tommy more than likely don't ever want kids, like Abby probably wouldn't have had biological children too, would Buck have just stuck around anyway?! Taylor, Natalia, Tommy and Abby while they had similarities were all very different. What is Buck looking for in his partners?! Does he ever actually talk about what he wants in the future?! How is Eddie supposed to trust that Buck wants to be with him if he thinks Buck is just too scared of being abandoned again and Eddie leaving him?! Therefore, Eddie may always have it in the back of his head that Buck is with him because of the wrong reasons. How is Eddie supposed to trust that Buck isn't just going with the flow and actually wants everything with him?!

Buck and Eddie desperately need to communicate with eachother. Buck needs to stop overcompensating with his partners and moving too quickly because of his fear of being abandoned. And Eddie for once needs to stop God Damn running and actually talk to his partners and his son. They also need to desperately go to therapy for a hundred years as well. Eddie shouldn't be wondering if he is just another unhealthy relationship Buck is clinging too and Buck shouldn't be constantly wondering when Eddie is going to leave him. That's why I would fucking love for Buck and Eddie to get couples therapy as soon as or even before they get together.

[trashisstillhere]

You all know about New Ninja, now get ready for….

Newbie creep!

Aka New creep, aka Newbie…. Ya already get it.

This man was not easy to design, even with trying to look for some inspiration on Pinterest and stuff. But hey, he’s done now.

Now while he’s new at the job like New Ninja is with theirs, they’re not really like the ‘new messenger’ who’s going to replace the original creep. Oh nah, og creep is still the main one and still will always the main messenger. Newbie here is actually just more of a trainee, a trainee who’s a big LOSER-

Btw, this guy wasn’t actually my idea originally. I actually got The idea of this guy from @artistic-harlom-world !!! Thanks again for the idea for this loser dude!

I’m sure you’d all like to know a bit more about him, Welp. Here we go.

-like original Creep who was the one to give the mask and Nomicon to many chosen ninjas for many years until Randy, Newbie Creep is the one who gave the mask to New Ninja! Ya see, the mask New Ninja has is actually not the same as Randy’s! It’s a whole brand new mask that the og creep made just in case and Newbie just so happens to be the one picked to give it away along with the Nomicon!

And no, there isn’t a whole new Nomicon too. The ninja Nomicon is still the same exact book that we all know of and love, no worries! Nothing can replace this 800 year old book-

-Newbie’s origins, just like Creeps, is unknown. Tho he is also immortal like him, from the same place too. He even tries having the same fashion sense as him just cuz, though a bit of his clothes, as you can see here, has been ruined. How? Just some small ‘Accidents’, that’s all!

-speaking of small accidents, Newbie creep had them happen quite a lot, they’re the reason why he has those small scars almost all over him in the first place, especially on his fingers! He even tried bandaging himself a bit but it was barely done well. He also tried fixing up a bit of his clothes as you can obviously see with his pants, which just made it look so off compared to the rest of him. His hairs also kinda messy.

-as I already said, he’s a loser. No seriously he literally is. He’s like the complete opposite of the creep. That’s like, the entire point of his character almost. When he’s scared, like for example seeing someone be able to kick an entire wall down and destroyed it completely, he immediately faints right on the spot. If he’s about to be noticed, he quickly flees. With the way he looks right now, many people would probably be very suspicious of him, thinking he’s a man not to be trusted.

-while Randy is more patient and kind with New Ninja during their ninja duties, the creep is a little more stricter and can get a little more easily impatient with Newbie. He often criticises the guy, from his clothes to the way he does his job. (A bit ooc? Idfk) but even if having to deal with his kinda sucky trainee can be a pain in the ass, Creep does actually try to support Newbie! Believe it or not.

Here is Newbie creep with both the og creep and the kid! (May look pretty off since I mostly drew him in my style and plus I didn’t feel like cleaning up and do shading again.) yeah, he’s meant to be just a SLIGHTLY bit shorter then Creep, just a little…..oh and a quick doodle of him and his ‘boss’.

Get it? ‘Clown’-boy? Like cowboy but instead of cow, it’s clown cuz his pants look ridiculous and- okay I’ll stop, I apologise.

Also man, I gotta draw the creep more. I really do.

Anyway that’s it, hope y’all like him I guess!

[inevitablestars]

i just want to know what im doing wrong

[keeps-ache]

lost vocation: fish

[brick-van-dyke]

It's gonna be 39C (102.2f) and we don't have an aircon fuckkk I hate Australian summers. Especially since, at least here, it's humid af as well.

[inazuma-fulgur]

I will also defend trans men here, I see vitriol about both just by different people.

Men, and women keeping proximity to men in media/political circles, target trans women for being predators and for mutilating themselves

Same for trans men actually, just by women and men keeping a proximity to those women. This one is a little weird though, because trans men post transition are predators and trans men pre transition are always victims who are tricked into mutilating themselves.

This isn't just on tv, this is stuff my neighbors and coworkers tell me. Austensibly, in my experience, cis women are negative towards trans men and largely neutral or positive towards trans women, whereass cis men are negative towards both

Non binary people don't even exist because they don't touch on the framework people use to understand themselves, so they can just be denied and don't require any arguments beyond "lmao silly"

[actual-corpse]

Giving your character extra arms is bad if you suck at poses.

I don't suck at poses.... I'm just trying to keep the shapes of Luna Moth Girl clean.

[deathbxnny]

Arcane characters when someone flirts with you. | Viktor, Jayce, Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx, Sevika x Gn!Reader

I am the brain rot. The brain rot is me.✨️

Content: pre season 2 Viktor/Jayce!, Jealousy, pitfighter Vi, established romantic relationships, angst, threats of violence/death threats, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VIKTOR

He always struggled with self-esteem issues, mainly due to his sickness and disability that made it difficult for him to do much. A part of him forever will believe that you could easily do better than him, yet that doesn't stop him from getting terribly jealous anytime someone gets too friendly with you. Especially when they can see him standing next to you clearly being your partner as well.

But despite his insecurities, he doesn't allow anyone to harass you either on his watch. He lets you defend yourself for the most part until he has enough and lets his more sassy side handle the flirtatious person for you. He may not be able to do anything in a physical way, something he very much would rather avoid. But his tongue is sharp, and it takes little to make them quickly scurry away with a nervous apology for the disturbance.

He'll never admit to being jealous, however, and denies any teasing accusations you send his way. But he'll secretly ask for reassurance as he starts feeling embarrassed over his insecurities rather quickly after. A couple of hugs and kisses from your side will fix that right up, though.

》JAYCE

He has a reputation to keep up. And so, technically, he should always handle things professionally no matter what. People are watching him after all, and his public image can not be tarnished under any circumstance... or so he says. Things change in his mind when they are about you. In general, people know who you are and who you belong to since he rarely shuts up about it.

But every now and then, someone who is somehow unfamiliar with this concept will come up to you and attempt to woo you right in front of his very eyes. Now, Jayce tries to let you handle yourself, but doesn't hesitate to step in either if the person doesn't get the hint. His rather intimidating frame and position as a councilor help him out Immensely with this. He chases them away with a tight smile and a kiss to your head, as he casually asks how he can oh so graciously help them.

Once they leave, he'll pretend not to hear you, of you teasingly asking him if he was jealous. Him? Jealous? Hah! Impossible... okay, maybe a little. But don't tell anyone that.

》VI

As a pitfighter, Vi doesn't hesitate to get violent with anyone who comes close to the only good thing she has left in her life, which happens to be you. She's extremely protective and makes sure everyone gets the hint regarding who you belong to. But alas, there are always the couple strays that refuse to comprehend that fact and therefore attempt to "steal" you away from her. Something that never ends well for anyone.

Her temper is shorter than it used to be, and that becomes quite clear when she's quick to loom over the person that was pestering you. She knows that you can handle yourself just fine, too. But that doesn't stop her from grabbing their shoulder and asking them if she can help them out instead. Or maybe they want to talk it out in the pit? All the same to her, but the message is clear. She'll win if it comes to you every time, and that's enough to make the person scurry away in terror.

You'll definitely have to calm her down and reassure that you had everything handled. She's just looking out for you, though, and doesn't want you to get hurt, too, like everyone else in her life. The last thing she wants is to mess up again, so her overprotective tendencies will probably never lessen. Not that you kind anyways.

》CAITLYN

Your role as her partner is crystal clear to absolutely everyone in Piltover, especially after she takes over the troops as their new ruler. She's much more cutthroat and cold than she used to be before her mothers death, which made her extremely overprotective of you and your safety. She may even be suffocating at times with her security measures, but she finds it absolutely necessary. This also means, however, that those who try becoming a bit too friendly with you are always at risk of facing her wrath.

She doesn't hold back with her dismay and is quick to stand before you with a dark, stern glare directed at whoever was flirting with you beforehand. Caitlyn doesn't care if you can take care of yourself or not either. She'll take full advantage of her new position and power too, not hesitating to give the person that was pestering you a professionally worded threat that leaves them as pale as a ghost.

Admittedly, it's hard to tell if she's jealous or just worried in her own way. Before her mother's death, it may very well just be her being a bit jealous... but with her current position, she may also just be afraid to lose you too deep down. And she couldn't handle that.

》JINX

After Silco's death, Jinx's temper is milder than before due to her deteriorating mental health (if there was anything left of it to begin with). She's a lot calmer when handling situations and seeming more calculated than before, but that certainly doesn't quell the extreme abandonment issues in her at any rate. If anything, they've become much worse than before. This means that she'll cling to you and snap at anyone who nears you. No one is allowed to steal your attention away from her. No one can take you away from her. She just won't allow it when you're all she has left.

And so, she won't hesitate to use her gun on anyone who is pestering you. A death threat or two usually gets the point across anyway. Jinx will also let you handle yourself first, however though, knowing you can easily do that. But if things do get out of hand, she will step right to scare them away at best. She'd never kill anyone infront of you after all. She doesn't want to scare you away.

You'll have to reassure her of your loyalty a lot afterward, however, as her insecurities and issues can make her spiral fairly easily. Giving her a lot of attention and love makes everything go away, though, luckily.

》SEVIKA

She's very secure in your relationship and trusts you perfectly fine, which is why she rarely ever gets jealous. Why should she, anyway, when you'll always come back to her at the end of the day? Besides, people in the lanes know who you are and who you belong to, and most importantly, what will happen to their faces once she bashes them in if they ever harass you too much.

With that said, though, she typically lets you do your own thing and chase the person away yourself first before bothering to step in. If things get out of hand, then she'll suddenly be right behind you and tower over whoever it is that's not getting the hint. Blowing smoke right into their faces, she'll ask them if they have a problem, and if yes, then they should take it up with her outside. Although everyone knows she's the only one back afterwards. This usually does the trick.

Don't expect her to ever say that she is jealous, though, and hopes you know better, too. She knows you're loyal, as she certainly is for life and therefore doesn't worry about a thing regarding the strength of your relationship.

No one is better than her anyway.

[bloomzone]

2025 : #1 be disciplined

Motivation feels amazing, doesn’t it? It’s like a spark—a burst of energy that pushes you forward. But what happens when the spark fades? That’s where discipline steps in. It’s the routine you build, the habits you cultivate, and the consistency you stick to even on days you don’t feel like it.

So, instead of waiting to feel ready, discipline says, ‘Let’s go, regardless.’ It’s the engine that turns dreams into reality.

"Ask urself right now: What’s one thing I can commit to daily in 2025? Write it down. Small steps lead to giant leaps."

1.Building Your Disciplined

How do u stay disciplined? Start with these three small steps:

✒️.Growth is not supposed to feel good. You’re going to hate it. You’ll feel like quitting more times than you can count. That’s normal. Growth is built in the moments where you want to give up but don’t.

1. Create Clear Goals: Be specific. Instead of saying, ‘I’ll study more,’ say, ‘I’ll study history for 30 minutes every evening.’ BUY A SMALL NOTEBOOK AND WRITE ALL UR GOALS WITH SMALLER ONE TO BE MORE PRODUCTIVE

2. Track Progress: Whether it’s journaling or using an app, tracking helps you stay accountable.

3.Master Your Mindset: Stop waiting to "feel motivated." Understand that motivation is fleeting, but discipline is reliable. Every time your brain tells you to quit, remind yourself: your emotions don’t run the show—your goals do.

2.Excuses Are Lies

Excuses are lies you’ve sold yourself to stay comfortable. 'I’m too tired.' Lie. 'I don’t have time.' Lie. 'I’m just not motivated.' Biggest lie of all.

Here’s the truth: You’re scared. Scared of failure, scared of discomfort, scared of how much effort it takes to change. But let me tell you something: Fear is temporary. Regret is forever. Which one do you want to live with?

No more excuses. You don’t need more time. You need more discipline. You don’t need motivation. You need action. Stop talking about what you want and start doing the work to get it. Right now.

3.look at yourself in the mirror

Look yourself in the mirror tonight and ask: Am I proud of the choices I made today? If the answer is no, fix it tomorrow. And if the answer is still no, fix it the next day. Don’t let yourself off the hook.

2025 isn’t your year unless you make it your year. Stop expecting change to happen to you. You are the change. Get out of your head, get off the couch, and get to work. The only thing standing between you and the life you want is your own laziness. Crush it.

4.Action Plan for a Disciplined Life

Stop acting like you’re doing enough when you know you’re not. If you want that dream college, that perfect GPA, or that career you keep fantasizing about, you need to stop wasting time and follow a real plan. Get up the second your alarm goes off—no snooze, no excuses. Tackle the hardest, most uncomfortable task first thing in the morning because procrastination is for quitters. Create a non-negotiable schedule and stick to it like your life depends on it, because it does. Eliminate every distraction: delete the apps, unfollow the nonsense, and stop treating your phone like your best friend. Hold yourself accountable—write down your progress every day. If you didn’t do anything to move forward, face the fact that you’re the problem. Plan your next day before you sleep, so you wake up ready to win, not wander. And for the love of everything you want in life, stop choosing comfort over progress. Your excuses won’t get you that GPA, that acceptance letter, or that dream job—but discipline will.

breaking this into chunks

1. Kill the Snooze Button: Get out of bed the moment your alarm goes off. No "just 5 more minutes." Those 5 minutes are the difference between starting strong and losing the day.

2. Start With the Hard Stuff: Tackle your most challenging task first thing in the day. Procrastination is your enemy—eat the frog and move on.

3. Create a Non-Negotiable Schedule: Block out specific times for studying, working out, or any critical task. Treat these blocks like appointments with your future self—don’t cancel.

4. Cut Out Time-Wasters: Delete apps you waste time on. Unfollow distractions. If you spend hours scrolling or binge-watching, you’re digging your own grave.

5. Build Accountability: Tell someone your goals and have them call you out when you slack. Better yet, make it public—you’ll hate embarrassing yourself in front of others.

6. Track Progress Daily: Write down everything you’ve done that day to move closer to your goals. If you haven’t done anything, face the hard truth: you’re slacking.

7. Plan Tomorrow Tonight: Before you go to bed, write out your next day’s schedule. If you wake up without a plan, you’ve already lost.

8. Say No to Comfort: Skip the cozy excuses. If it’s not pushing you closer to your goals, it’s holding you back.

Discipline is the foundation of every success story. It’s not about luck, talent, or fleeting motivation—it’s about showing up, doing the hard work, and making the right choices every single day. If you want to achieve your dreams, you need to stop waiting for the perfect moment and start building habits that get you closer to your goals. Cut the excuses, own your failures, and take control of your life. The road to greatness isn’t easy, but every sacrifice, every uncomfortable moment, and every disciplined action will take you one step closer to the future you deserve. You either make it happen, or you watch someone else do it. The choice is yours. The clock is not waiting for u !

@bloomzone ✒️

[vunblr]

Heartwood

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Fluff. Smut. Unprotected sex.

Summary: After Sam’s party, Bucky begins to navigate uncharted territory as he works to balance his growing feelings and lingering insecurities in his blooming relationship.

Word Count: 11k

notes: Follow-up of Roots and Branches.

Bucky stirred first, blinking against the pale light filtering through the curtains. It was a strange sensation, waking without the shadow of a dream, or worse, the weight of a memory. Instead, there was only the quiet of the room, the steady rhythm of her breathing, and the warmth of her body tucked into his side.

He shifted carefully, with slow and deliberate movements, unsure if he’d disturbed her. She murmured something unintelligible, with her face half-hidden against the crook of his arm, but she didn’t wake.

For a moment, he allowed himself to simply look at her. Something was grounding about seeing her this way, soft, peaceful, and completely at ease. Her fingers brushed faintly against his chest, the contact so light it felt almost subconscious, like even asleep, she couldn’t quite let go of him. He leaned his head back against the pillow, releasing a slow breath of contentment as he let the moment settle over him.

She stirred then, her nose brushing against his collarbone, and let out the smallest sigh. Her lashes fluttered, and her sleepy gaze lifted to meet his.

“Good morning,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she tucked herself closer.

“Morning,” he rumbled softly, and before he could second-guess, he bent to kiss her forehead. He hesitated just enough to wonder if he should’ve rinsed his mouth first, but her sleepy smile disarmed him completely.

Her hand reached up lazily, brushing the curve of his jaw. “You’re up early.”

“Didn’t want to miss this,” he said quietly, as if speaking too loudly might break the moment.

She hummed, nuzzling closer into his chest. “I could stay here forever.”

He wrapped his arms around her instinctively, tightening the space between them. “Nobody’s stopping us.”

And that was when the doorbell rang, three sharp chimes that shattered the stillness.

Her body tensed briefly before she tilted her head back to look at him. He met her gaze with a scowl that was equal parts annoyance and resolve. “Ignore it.”

“But-”

He hugged her tighter, the words almost a growl in her ear. “Nobody’s home.”

The doorbell rang again, sharper this time, cutting through the morning like an unwelcome guest.

She froze, her forehead creasing as realization dawned. “Oh no,” she murmured, sitting up abruptly.

“What?” Bucky’s voice was a gruff rumble, his arms tightening briefly as if to pull her back before she escaped entirely.

Her face flushed with mild panic. “Sam! He’s supposed to fix the cabinets this morning.”

Bucky groaned, rolling onto his back, and shot her an exasperated look. “Really?” His hand raked through his hair, the messy strands falling into his eyes as he scowled at the ceiling.

She scrambled for her sweatpants, hopping slightly as she pulled them on, her movements hurried. Despite the rush, she bit her lip to stifle a laugh when she glanced at him again. He looked like a picture of grumpiness, his brow furrowed and jaw tight, the image of a man who wanted nothing more than to barricade the door and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.

“So, uh...” she ventured awkwardly, slipping a loose shirt over her head. “What do you want to do? Stay here in secrecy? I can sneak you some breakfast if you want.”

His gaze slid toward her, unamused.

“Or, I don’t know... sneak out the back door like some kind of criminal?” She half-grinned, watching for his reaction as she tugged the hem of her shirt into place.

Bucky grunted, leaning up on one elbow. “What are the other options?”

The doorbell rang a third time, louder and more insistent.

“None!” she hissed, darting toward the door, her bare feet padding against the floor. She paused briefly, shooting him an apologetic glance over her shoulder.

“I’ll be quiet,” he muttered with a resigned sigh, lying back and draping his arm over his face.

Suppressing a laugh, she opened the door with the best attempt at nonchalance. “Sorry, overslept,” she said, offering Sam a sheepish smile.

Sam raised an eyebrow, looking past her toward the faint creak of floorboards inside. “You sure about that?”

Her heart skipped a beat, but she kept her face composed, stepping slightly to the side to block his view. “Positive.”

As they entered the house, Sam glanced around and didn’t say anything, but his brow lifted ever so slightly before he turned back to her. “Didn’t see you stick around long at the grill last night,” he commented casually, taking a seat at the small kitchen table.

“Oh,” she began, busying herself with tidying up the counter. “I had a headache, so I didn’t want to overstay. Besides, you looked pretty engaged with those guys, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Sam leaned back in his chair, muttering, “Uh-huh...”

They made small talk, mostly about the cabinets and how long the repairs would take. He occasionally shot her a curious glance, but she managed to deflect most of his subtle prodding.

Bucky, meanwhile, slipped out of the bedroom and padded to the bathroom, his bare feet making the wooden floors creak faintly. Sam’s ears perked up slightly at the sound, but he didn’t let on, instead continuing the conversation about varnish options and hardware.

The bathroom door creaked open again, and Bucky’s steps echoed softly as he made his way back toward the room. Sam’s lips twitched with a smirk he barely managed to suppress.

“You know,” he said, leaning forward slightly, “it’s a shame you left early. There was someone I wanted to introduce you to last night.”

She quirked a brow, her curiosity piqued. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Sam continued, tapping his fingers on the table. “Since you’re still alone and, y’know, apparently still with no prospects.” His grin widened, barely containing the mischief lighting up his expression.

She rolled her eyes, though the corners of her mouth twitched with amusement. “And who, exactly, were you going to introduce me to?”

“John Walker,” Sam said, drawing the name out like it was some grand revelation. “Another wood supplier of mine. He bought blueberry pie in your booth at the festival and chatted with you for a bit. Tall, blonde, lopsided grin?”

She tilted her head, vaguely recalling the man in question. “Oh, yes. I think I remember him.”

“Well,” Sam said, his tone dripping with exaggerated lament, “he asked me to introduce you, but you’d already left. Such a shame.”

The sound of Bucky’s steps abruptly halted somewhere across the hallway. John Fucking Walker? That asshole?

Sam, pretending to be oblivious, leaned back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. “But hey, no worries. This weekend, I’ll be grilling again. Maybe then-”

Before he could finish, heavy steps thudded purposefully down the hall. Bucky appeared in the doorway, his broad frame filling the space, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs. The look he gave Sam was pointed, sharp, and entirely unamused.

Sam, the traitorous weasel, had the decency to feign surprise, though the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth betrayed him. “Well, well,” he drawled, crossing his arms with exaggerated ease. “Seems like someone else caught that contagious headache last night.”

Her head whipped around to find Bucky, standing in all his glory. Heat rushed to her cheeks as her gaze flickered instinctively downward, then back up, her mind racing. The situation felt like a slow-motion car crash she couldn’t look away from.

There was a beat of awkward silence, her flustered reaction contrasting with Sam’s calm, almost unimpressed observation.

He arched a brow and leaned forward slightly, his tone casual but laced with mischief. “You know,” he said, “you two might’ve thought you slipped out unnoticed last night, but let me tell you, your absence didn’t exactly go under the radar.”

Bucky’s gaze narrowed, his irritation now mingled with the dawning realization that Sam wasn’t just here to fix cabinets. He’d fallen right into his childish trap. He’d exposed himself confirming exactly what he had been baiting him for.

She scrambled for words, her voice faltering. “Well, you see...”

Sam, entirely unperturbed, waved her off. “The most exciting thing happening at that grill was the talk about the town festival, the weather messing up gardens, and the rock slide on the north road.” He leaned forward, his grin widening. “You didn’t think people would notice when the newest addition to the town and the hard-to-get collection figure of social events both disappeared at the same time?” Bucky’s eyes narrowed further, his annoyance deepening at Sam’s playful but undeniably pointed observation. “Oh, come on,” Sam added, gesturing broadly. “Small town, Buck. We’re starved for drama. Of course people noticed.”

She felt heat creep up her neck and settle in her cheeks, her blush betraying her sense of exposure. Meanwhile, Bucky grunted, his irritation simmering just beneath the surface. The thought of being a topic of conversation for the town sent a fresh wave of unease rolling through him.

“It’s not that bad,” Sam said breezily, clearly enjoying himself. “I give your story a week before it gets old and a new topic arrives.” His gaze appraised Bucky, his grin broadening. “Speaking of which, aren’t you cold?” He gestured pointedly to his state of undress.

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, his scarred arm brushing against his side as he gave Sam a deadpan stare. “Aren’t you supposed to be fixing those cabinets?”

Sam snorted, shaking his head. “Look at you,” he teased. “Already the man of the house, bossing people around. Real domestic.”

Bucky’s lips twitched, just a hint of a smirk threatening to break through his otherwise stoic expression. “Keep talking, Wilson, and you’re gonna find yourself out on the porch with your toolbox.”

“Relax, big guy,” Sam shot back, grabbing his toolbox with an exaggerated sigh. “I’ll leave you to play house in peace.”

She bit her lip to keep from laughing, her blush slowly fading as Sam turned toward the cabinets, still chuckling under his breath.

“We’ll let you do your thing,” she called after him, with a light tone.

She placed a gentle hand on Bucky’s chest and gave him a little push out of the kitchen doorway. He went without resistance, though his brow remained furrowed. Without a word, she took his hand and led him down the hallway to the bedroom, closing the door softly behind them. When she turned, his expression hadn’t shifted. His jaw was tight, and his gaze lingered somewhere on the floor.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice soft but tinged with concern.

“Yeah,” he replied, but the lack of conviction in his tone was unmistakable.

She stepped closer, her hand brushing lightly over his forearm. “Bucky,” she pressed gently, “you don’t sound okay. What’s on your mind?”

He exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t like the idea of feeling... watched,” he admitted after a pause, his voice low. “This whole thing with Sam stirring the pot... people noticing stuff, making it their business.”

Her heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. She reached for his hand, lifting it to her lips and pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. “I get that,” she said quietly. “But I don’t think the people here would give you trouble. They’re probably just curious. It’ll pass.”

He glanced at her, his hesitation obvious. Then, with a slight shift of his shoulders, he added, “It’s not just that.”

Her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated again, looking anywhere but at her, with a palpable unease. “I just... I don’t know what you want people to know. About... us.” He cleared his throat, awkwardly running a hand through his hair. “Or if there even is an ‘us.’”

Her stomach flipped, her breath catching slightly. “Bucky-”

“I mean, people say stuff in the heat of the moment,” he continued quickly, his words tumbling over each other. “Things feel... different in the light of day. And if you- if this-” He stopped, swallowing hard, still avoiding her gaze. “I don’t know if that’s what you want.”

His shyness was endearing and heartbreaking all at once, and it took her a moment to gather her thoughts.

“Wait,” she said, “You’re not saying you’re the one who wants a situationship, are you?”

His head snapped up, alarm flashing in his blue eyes. “No,” he said firmly, the denial almost a reflex. “That’s not- God, no.”

Relief washed over her, and a small smile tugged at her lips. “Good,” she said softly, stepping closer until there was almost no space between them. “We’re on the same page then.”

He relaxed marginally, his shoulders dropping as he at last met her gaze. The corner of his mouth twitched, almost imperceptibly, and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Bucky leaned down, his lips brushing hers with a tentative softness that quickly gave way as his uncertainty melted. The kiss deepened, and his hands slid to her waist, pressing her against him as hers wove into his hair. The heat between them grew, his grip getting firmer as a soft sigh escaped her lips, drawn into the intensity of the moment… until the sharp, rhythmic crack of hammering shattered the haze like a stone tossed into still water.

Bucky groaned, pulling back just enough to press the back of his head against the bedroom door. He closed his eyes, his jaw tightening as he stared at the ceiling in frustration. “I hate him,” he muttered, growling the words.

She stifled a laugh, brushing her fingers lightly over his chest. “He’s just doing his job,” she replied softly.

Reluctantly, he let her go, running a hand through his hair. “I gotta go anyway,” he admitted with a resigned sigh. “Got a quota to fill. Need to deliver it by closing time.”

Her lips curved into a small pout. “You didn’t even have breakfast,” she pointed out, crossing her arms.

He shrugged, grabbing his jeans from the floor. “I’ll sort it out,” he said dismissively, but the way he avoided her gaze told her he didn’t have a plan.

She clicked her tongue in mild exasperation. “Yeah, no.” Before he could argue, she slipped out of the room, leaving him to dress while she headed to the kitchen.

In one swift motion, she grabbed a big tupperware from the cabinet and set it on the counter. Without hesitation, she got to work, spreading jam on slices of bread, stacking three sandwiches neatly inside. On the side, she crammed in four cookies and a few slices of freshly cut apple, tucking the lid into place with satisfaction.

Sam, hammer still in hand, peeked over from the corner of his eye, his grin unmistakable. “Oh, you’re gonna spoil him rotten, aren’t ya?”

She quirked a brow, unbothered. “I intend to, yes.”

Sam laughed, leaning against the counter briefly. “Good,” he said with an approving nod. “Someone has to, baking queen. He deserves it.”

Her expression softened slightly, and she gave a small, conspiratorial smile before putting the tupperware in a cloth bag and heading back toward the hallway.

Bucky was buttoning his flannel shirt when she returned, with the bag in her hands. He glanced up at the sound of her footsteps, “What’s that?” he asked, nodding toward the flowery sack as he reached for his boots.

“Breakfast,” she said simply, holding it out to him.

He stared at it for a moment, then back at her, his brows knitting together. “I told you I’d figure it out.”

“And I decided I’d save you the trouble,” she countered, unfazed, stepping closer and pressing the container into his hands. “It’s just some jam sandwiches, cookies, and an apple. Nothing fancy.”

His fingers wrapped around the handles reluctantly, his gaze flicking down to it. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and she wondered if she’d overstepped.

Then, with a small, almost imperceptible sigh, he muttered, “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” she said softly, her tone light but insistent. “That’s why I did it.”

Bucky’s lips pressed into a thin line, but his grip on the bag tightened slightly, betraying the quiet gratitude he wasn’t quite sure how to voice. “Thanks,” he said finally, his voice low and a little rough.

Her smile widened, and she reached out to adjust the collar of his flannel. “Just eat it, okay? And no excuses about being too busy.”

He huffed a soft laugh, his shoulders relaxing as he shook his head. “Yes ma'am. You’re something else, you know that?”

“Good to know,” she replied with a playful smirk, giving his chest a gentle pat before stepping back.

As he turned to leave, he paused hesitantly in the doorway, his brow furrowing slightly as if caught in a thought. Then, without a word, he turned back and crossed the distance between them.

Before she could react, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. It was brief but gentle. “Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice rough but sincere. “Really.” He straightened and, without making eye contact, turned and exited the bedroom. The door clicked softly behind him, leaving her standing there with a flutter in her chest and a faint smile on her lips.

After Bucky left, she busied herself tidying up the kitchen and glanced at Sam, who was still diligently hammering away at the cabinets. “Want something to drink?” she offered casually.

Sam paused mid-swing and turned to her with a grateful smile. “Sure, whatever you’ve got.” She poured him a glass of orange juice, setting it on the counter where he could grab it easily before retreating to the living room.

The morning light filtered through the curtains as she settled on the couch, her laptop balanced on her knees. With a sigh, she opened the highlander’s document that made her roll her eyes every other sentence. She got through four chapters when Sam’s voice broke the quiet.

“All done for today,” he called from the kitchen doorway.

She glanced up, giving him a surprised smile. “That was quick.”

He grinned, wiping his hands on a rag as he stepped into the living room. “So, what’re you working on over here?”

Her stomach sank slightly. Oh no. Not this conversation again.

“Uh, just a manuscript,” she said vaguely, hoping he’d let it go.

But Sam, ever curious, tilted his head and leaned against the doorframe. “What kind of manuscript?”

“A romance novel,” she admitted reluctantly.

Sam’s grin widened. “Romance, huh? What kind? Cowboys? Pirates?”

She sighed, knowing resistance was futile. “It’s a Highlander one.”

That seemed to delight him even more. “Oh, like with the kilts and the swords and all that ‘My bonnie lass’ stuff?”

“Something like that,” she muttered.

Sam laughed, shaking his head. “My mom had a ton of those books, and my sister Sarah used to sneak them off the shelf when we were teenagers.” His grin turned devilish. “Boy, mom whipped her pervy ass when she found out. Thought she was scandalizing herself reading all those heaving bosom scenes.”

Despite herself, she let out a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. “Poor Sarah.”

“Poor Sarah, my ass,” Sam said with a chuckle. “She’s still a sucker for those books. Says it’s the ‘only time she has to herself.’” He made air quotes, clearly still amused by the memory.

She shook her head, laughing softly as she accompanied him to the door. “Well, let’s hope she never gets her hands on this one.”

------

By the time lunch rolled around, she had advanced a lot on her scheduled work for the day and couldn’t stop herself from glancing at her phone. She typed out a quick message to Bucky.

Hey, what are you up to?

Minutes passed with no response. Then, about an hour later, her phone buzzed in her hand, his name flashing across the screen. She picked up immediately.

“Hey,” she greeted warmly, leaning back on the couch.

“Hey,” he replied, with a gruffy tone. She could hear the faint hum of machinery in the background. “Sorry for not answering. Still working.”

“Yeah? How’s it going?”

A long sigh crackled through the line. “The chainsaw broke. Had to switch to one of the old ones. Slower, heavier, and louder. Pretty much the worst.”

Her brow furrowed at the weariness in his voice. “Sounds like a pain. Did you eat anything?”

“Yeah,” he muttered, though it didn’t sound convincing.

She hesitated, then offered, “I can bring you something. A sandwich or-”

“Nah, I’m good,” he said quickly, though his voice softened just enough to take the edge off the refusal. “Appreciate it, but I’ll figure it out.”

She frowned but didn’t push. “Okay... What time do you think you’ll be done?”

There was a brief pause as he considered. “About seven. Maybe a little after.”

Her lips quirked into a small smile as she decided to push just a little. “Mind if I come by your place when you’re done?”

The line went quiet, the faint buzz of the machinery and distant thudding the only sounds. She held her breath, wondering if she’d gone too far.

Finally, his voice came through, quieter and tinged with something shy. “Yeah, sure. If you want. Can’t promise I’ll be much of a host, though.”

Her smile widened, warmth blooming in her chest. “That’s okay. I’m not expecting a five-star experience. Just... you.”

His exhale was soft but audible as if her words had taken some weight off his shoulders. “All right,” he said simply. “See you then.”

“See you,” she replied, “and take care.” she added before the line clicked off.

She stared at the phone for a moment, with a lingering smile. No matter how grumpy or tired he sounded, he was still Bucky, the guy who cared enough to try.

He looked briefly at the old phone in his hand, her voice still echoing faintly in his ears, before tucking it back into his pocket and exhaling sharply.

Rolling his shoulder for what felt like the hundredth time that day, he muttered a curse under his breath. The heavier chainsaw and the damp air weren’t doing his arm joints any favors, the ache setting deep into the bone. He flexed his fingers, trying to shake off the stiffness, but it did little to help. As he set the chainsaw down for a moment’s reprieve, his mind wandered back to her words. Mind if I come by your place?

He snorted softly, half-amused, half-bewildered. She wanted to come over after a day like this, to his place of all places. His gaze flicked toward the cabin in the distance, the thought of her seeing it exactly as it was sending a twinge of discomfort through him.

He started mentally ticking through the list of things he’d have to deal with before she arrived.

The plates in the sink. Take out the trash. Definitely need to dismantle the makeshift bed on the living room floor. His brow furrowed. Putting a few empty bottles of scotch out of sight wouldn’t hurt either.

The thought of her stepping into his world, even for a little while, made him pause. He couldn’t help the doubt creeping in, the same gnawing thought that had been with him for as long as he could remember.

How someone like her could bother with someone like me?

He shook his head sharply, as if to dispel the thought, and grabbed the chainsaw again. He didn’t have time to dwell on it, not with the sun dipping lower and more work to finish.

The sound of her pen clicking filled the quiet room as she glanced at the clock and mentally sketched out her plan. Bucky was clearly having a rough day, and if he wasn’t going to let her help during the daytime, she’d make sure his evening was better.

Her eyes scanned the kitchen counter before settling on the tenderloin she’d defrosted earlier. Perfect. A baked tenderloin, creamed potatoes, and maybe a good wine, it was simple but comforting, exactly what he’d need after a day like this.

She pulled out her apron and got to work, her hands moving with practiced ease as she trimmed the meat, seasoned it with rosemary and garlic, and slid it into the oven. While that baked, she started on the potatoes, peeling and boiling them before whipping them with cream and butter until they were perfectly smooth.

As she worked, her gaze drifted to the wine sitting on the counter, a thoughtful gift from a friend she hadn’t yet opened. Tonight’s the perfect occasion, she thought, setting it aside with a smile.

By the time everything was ready, the kitchen smelled warm and inviting, and she felt a sense of satisfaction at having put the plan together. With the tenderloin resting on a cutting board and the potatoes cooling in their pot, she finished her workload for the day and headed to shower.

Steam filled the bathroom as she rinsed away the day, her thoughts lingering on Bucky, on how tired he must be, on how much he tried to shoulder everything himself. She couldn’t erase the day’s frustrations, but she could lighten the load, even if only for a few hours.

After her shower, she picked through her closet, her fingers brushing over fabrics until they landed on a paneled skirt. It was soft and simple, and it paired well with a blouse she liked. Totally practical, she told herself. Absolutely no ulterior motives.

By the time the food was packed into containers and loaded into the trunk, the sun was beginning to set, painting the horizon in soft hues of pink and orange. She double-checked the tupperwares, the wine, and even threw in a small bag of cookies for good measure.

Satisfied, she slid into the driver’s seat with determination. Tonight, she was going to make sure Bucky felt better, even if he didn’t realize how much he needed it.

By the time she reached the cabin, the evening light was fading, casting long shadows through the trees that lined the narrow road. Her car bumped along the uneven path, the crunch of gravel under her tires breaking the quiet stillness of the woods.

As she pulled up, her headlights swept across the clearing in front of his cabin, illuminating a lone figure by the side of the house. There he was, hauling a bag of trash toward a bin, his movements slower than usual.

Caught in the beam of her headlights, he froze momentarily, squinting against the brightness like a deer on the road. His workwear was rumpled, his shirt clinging to his broad frame from a long day’s labor. Dirt streaked his forearms and smudged his face, his hair slightly damp and pushed back haphazardly.

She turned off the engine and got out, the sound of the door closing drawing his gaze to her. His eyes flicked immediately to the bags in her arms, and he moved toward her with purposeful strides, leaving the trash bag forgotten by the bin.

Before she could say anything, he reached for the bags. “Here,” he muttered, his voice gruff but soft, his fingers brushing hers as he took them.

She tilted her head, a playful pout forming on her lips. “No kiss?”

He paused, his brow furrowing slightly, as though he were genuinely considering it. The truth was, he felt grimy and sweaty, dirt likely smudged across his face, while she looked effortlessly put together. The soft fabric of her skirt swayed gently in the evening breeze, and her fresh, clean scent drifted toward him, a stark contrast to his own disheveled state.

“I didn’t have time to… I don’t wanna stain you,” he admitted, his voice low and rough as his gaze flicked down to the bags in his hands.

Her expression softened, a warm smile curving her lips as she stepped closer. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his waist, ignoring the startled grunt he made at the contact. Rising onto her toes, she pressed a quick, tender kiss to his lips. Before he could fully react, she pulled back, her eyes bright with affection.

“What kind of person would I be if I didn’t greet my man after a rough day at work?” she teased in a light tone.

His grip on the bags tightened slightly as he registered the words, and a faint blush crept over his cheeks, visible even through the dirt smudged on his face. Her man. The thought of it settled warm and steady in his chest, a sensation he didn’t quite know how to process.

He cleared his throat, his gaze darting away as he mumbled, “I guess you’re right.” Turning toward the cabin, he gestured for her to follow. “Come on in.”

As she stepped into the cabin, she paused to take it all in. The space was clean and warm, but undeniably spartan: bare walls, minimal furniture, and everything in its place. It was practical and functional, yet there was something distinctly Bucky about it.

Her gaze lingered on the small stack of books on the coffee table, a worn flannel jacket draped over the back of a chair, and a neatly folded blanket on the couch. Despite the lack of frills, it felt lived-in, quiet, and steady, just like him.

Bucky set the bags down on the small kitchen counter and turned to her, his brows furrowing slightly. “What’s all this?” he asked, gesturing at the containers with a slight tilt of his head.

“Dinner,” she replied simply, smiling as she stepped closer.

His eyebrows shot up, and he opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get a word out, she cut him off.

“What,” she interjected, her tone playful but firm, “did you think I’d come all the way out here after the day you’ve had just for you to take care of me? Maybe I didn’t make myself clear.” She stepped closer, her voice softening as her gaze met his. “I came to take care of you.”

His lips parted slightly, but no words came out. Instead, he blinked at her, his brow furrowing again as though he wasn’t quite sure how to process what she’d said.

“Come on,” she coaxed gently, placing a hand lightly on his arm. “You’ve been working your ass off all day, and I thought you could use a little help. That’s okay, right?”

He looked down at her hand on his arm, his muscles tensing slightly under her touch before relaxing. After a moment, he exhaled, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah,” he muttered, his voice quiet and a little rough. “Yeah, that’s... okay.”

Bucky stared at the bags on the counter. Of course she’d bring food. He slapped himself mentally for not anticipating it, given her nurturing nature. It wasn’t just something she did, it was who she was.

Still, a pang of guilt settled in his chest. He hadn’t asked for this, hadn’t even hinted at it, and yet here she was, going out of her way after what had probably been a long day for her, too. He felt, in some small way, like he was taking advantage of her kindness, even if unintentionally. Lost in thought, he barely registered her stepping closer until she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. His first instinct was to tense, the feel of her against his sweaty shirt making him self-conscious. But her warmth broke through the unease, and he found himself relaxing, his arms coming up to reciprocate the embrace. Inhaling the faint, sweet scent of her hair, he felt something in him soften.

“A penny for your thoughts?” she asked gently, her voice muffled against his chest.

He hesitated for a moment, then bit his lip before murmuring, “Just... not used to being cared for like this.”

Her hold on him tightened slightly, and she leaned back just enough to look up at him with a soft smile. “Well,” she said, her tone light but firm, “it’s better for you if you start getting used to it.”

He let out a soft, almost reluctant chuckle, the tension easing further from his shoulders.

“Go wash your hands,” she said, stepping back and gesturing toward the small bathroom. “I’ll set the table if that’s okay with you.”

“Maybe I should take a shower first,” he muttered, glancing down at himself, but she waved him off.

“You look starved,” she replied matter-of-factly. “You can shower after. Go on, wash up.”

Bucky arched a brow at her. “What’s in the containers, anyway?”

“Baked tenderloin, creamed potatoes, and a little wine,” she said as she started unpacking the food.

After her words, his face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Tenderloin?”

She nodded, her smile widening at his reaction.

“I’ll be right back,” he said quickly, his voice filled with unexpected excitement as he disappeared into the bathroom.

A little while later, Bucky reappeared, his hands clean and his face looking freshly washed. His long damp locks were pushed back, though a few stubborn strands refused to stay in place, giving him a slightly tousled look. He’d clearly made an effort, even if it wasn’t much, and she smiled at the sight.

The table was already set, the food neatly arranged in the middle, with mismatched enamel plates waiting. As he stepped closer, his eyes widened slightly at the spread before him. The tenderloin, perfectly sliced, the creamy potatoes beside it, it all looked like something out of a dream after the rough day he’d had. The smell hit him next, warm and comforting, and his stomach growled loudly, reminding him of just how little he’d eaten that day.

“It’s still hot,” she said, breaking his awed silence with a smile. “I used insulating containers.”

He nodded, still a bit dazed, and took his seat as she filled his plate. The first bite hit like a revelation, the flavors melting in his mouth. For a moment, he just sat there, savoring it, before digging in with gusto.

She watched with amusement the way he seemed to focus entirely on his plate. When he finished the first serving, he hesitated, glancing at the platter but not quite making a move. “Go on, you know you want more,” she said with a playful shake of her head, adding another helping to his plate before he could protest.

Bucky grumbled something under his breath, though the small, grateful smile tugging at his lips gave him away. He didn’t hesitate with the second helping, and by the time that plate was empty, he finally gave in and asked for the third himself.

“All right,” she teased as she served him again, “better than dino mac and cheese?”

His fork paused mid-air, and a gruff and warm laugh escaped him. “By a mile,” he admitted, shaking his head. “No contest.” The meal continued with more appreciative noises from him, low hums of approval and muttered compliments that only grew as he polished off every bite.

When his plate was finally clean, he leaned back slightly in his chair, his hand resting on his stomach. “I could get used to this,” he said softly, almost to himself, before his eyes widened slightly, and his ears turned faintly pink. “I mean... if you, uh, want to do this again. Another day. No pressure.”

She bit back a laugh, leaning her chin on her hand as she looked at him. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied warmly.

Bucky glanced down, his blush deepening, but the small smile lingering on his face betrayed how much her answer meant to him.

“So... how’s your arm?” she asked gently as she began clearing the plates, glancing at him with a mix of curiosity and concern. “You rotated your shoulder earlier, and you seemed a little stiff.”

Bucky froze, his eyes snapping to hers. He hadn’t realized she’d been paying that much attention. His first instinct was to brush it off, to tell her he was fine, no big deal. The words hovered on the tip of his tongue… but he’d promised himself not to shut her out. With a sigh, he leaned on the table, running a hand through his hair. “Using the old chainsaw today didn’t help. Heavy as hell, and the weather’s been a pain. Humidity makes it worse. Arm’s been bitching all day.”

She nodded thoughtfully, setting the plates aside before returning to her seat. “How about a massage?”

The question caught him off guard, and he stared at her, his thoughts muddled. He didn’t quite know how to respond, so he fell silent, mulling it over. It wasn’t like he’d ever been the type to ask for -or accept- things like that. But the idea of her hands working out the knots in his shoulder and biceps sounded almost too good to pass up after the day he’d had. “That’d be... really good,” he admitted finally, with a soft voice, “but I should take a bath first.”

She tilted her head, her expression turning stubborn. “Nonsense.” His brow furrowed as he started to protest, but she cut him off with a shy smile, her cheeks tinged pink. “I like how you smell, okay?”

He blinked at her, taken aback by her words. His gaze softened, and the tension in his shoulders eased just slightly. He didn’t know what to say to that, how could he argue when she looked at him like that?

“Okay,” he said finally, the corner of his mouth twitching into the faintest of smiles. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” she replied, with a steady but warm tone. “Now, take off your shirt and go sit on that stool over there,” she instructed, nodding toward the wooden stool tucked near the fireplace in the living room.

Bucky arched a brow but complied, standing slowly and pulling his shirt over his head in one fluid motion. As the fabric cleared his torso, she couldn’t help but stare. His muscled frame was on full display, the scars etched across his skin like unfinished stories. He hadn’t spoken of them yet, and she was determined to wait until he was ready to share those chapters himself. Her gaze lingered on the sharp cut of his shoulders, the way his muscles flexed with each subtle movement. Her hands twitched slightly at her sides, eager to touch him, to ease the tension she could see in every line of his body.

He turned and caught her staring, his lips quirking into a knowing smirk. “Did you plot this to take advantage of a tired and wounded man?” he teased, his tone dry but amused. “You stuff me full of food so I can’t move, and then you attack?”

She blinked, her cheeks warming, but a mischievous grin spread across her face. “Maybe,” she said with a playful shrug, reaching into her purse and pulling out a small bottle of lotion.

His eyes narrowed slightly, though there was a glint of humor in his gaze. “You planned this, didn’t you?”

“Perhaps it was a little premeditated,” she admitted, shaking the bottle in her hand as she stepped toward him. “Now sit.”

Bucky chuckled softly, shaking his head as he lowered himself onto the stool. “Remind me never to underestimate you.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” she quipped, uncapping the bottle and squeezing a small amount into her hands, her gaze flickering briefly to his bare skin.

As she stepped behind him, her heart beat a little faster. She placed her hands on his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her fingers, and began to work the lotion into the tight muscles.

The moment her hands touched his shoulders, Bucky tensed, his first thought lingering on the sweat still clinging to his skin. As her fingers pressed firmly into the tight muscles at the top of his shoulders, the tension in his neck began to ease almost immediately, but his mind stubbornly clung to his unease. He shifted slightly, the thought of her hands on his clammy skin making him self-conscious.

She seemed to sense his hesitation, leaning closer until her lips brushed against the pulse point at his neck. The kiss was soft but deliberate, and he stilled completely at the unexpected touch. Her fingers pressed deeper into his shoulders as she murmured, her voice low and teasing, “I’m not feeling any relaxation, Buck.”

Her lips trailed a warm, wet line from his pulse point to his earlobe, and he groaned, a deep, gravelly sound that rumbled in his chest. The tension in his body began to dissolve, his shoulders sagging as he exhaled a long breath.

“There we go,” she said softly, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips as her hands resumed their steady, soothing rhythm.

She worked her thumbs firmly along the base of his neck, coaxing the tight knots free, before moving down to his shoulders. Her fingers dug into the thick muscles with just the right amount of pressure, and he let out a low hiss that melted into a sigh. His scarred arm caught her attention next, the touch growing gentler as she kneaded the firm swell of his bicep. Her fingers traced over the ridges of the scars there, not hesitating but mindful, lingering in a way that felt both tender and intentional.

Bucky didn’t say a word, but his body told the story, how his shoulders slumped further under her touch, how his breathing slowed, and how the stiffness in his arm seemed to melt away. With each stroke, he let go just a little more, his head dipping forward slightly, his lips parting as another sound escaped him, a softer, more relieved groan this time, like unburdening himself of a long-held weight.

By the time she finished, her hands moving back up to smooth over his shoulders one last time, Bucky’s body was practically putty under her touch. The knots in his muscles had vanished, leaving him loose and blissfully relaxed. Yet, beneath the calm she’d so carefully drawn out, a different tension simmered. Her warm breath against his neck, the soft brush of her chest against his back, and the intimacy of her touch stirred something deeper, and despite his best efforts to stay still, a part of him was very much paying attention to her ministrations.

She stepped back slightly, wiping her palms on a towel she’d grabbed from her bag. “All done,” she announced lightly, her voice warm. “How are you feeling?”

Bucky straightened slightly, forcing himself to keep his breathing even as he glanced back at her. “So good,” he said honestly, his voice low and husky. “Thank you.”

Before she could respond, he moved with quiet intent, his hands finding her waist as he gently pulled her into his lap.

Her eyes widened as she settled sideways on his thighs, his hands firm and steady, holding her as though she belonged there.

“What kind of host would I be,” he murmured, his voice thick and velvety, sending a delicious shiver down her spine, “if I didn’t thank you properly?”

And then his lips were on hers, warm and insistent, his hands holding her in place like he couldn’t bear the thought of her slipping away. The kiss deepened quickly, and she let out a soft moan as she shifted in his lap, the movement drawing her attention to the unmistakable hardness pressing against her. Her breath hitched, her heart pounding as heat rushed through her body.

When they finally parted, her gaze met his, taking in the tired lines around his eyes. She quirked a brow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Weren’t you exhausted?”

Bucky leaned in, his lips brushing against her pulse point before nipping at it lightly. “Never for you,” he murmured, in a low and rough voice. The statement sent a thrill through her, her cheeks flushing as she bit her lip, her hands instinctively tightening on his shoulders. “You know,” he continued, his tone soft but teasing as his hand traveled under the hem of her skirt, his rough fingers brushing against her bare thigh, “last night I told you why I liked you in dresses and skirts.”

Her breath caught as his hand moved higher, his touch deliberate and unhurried. “Oh, I took note,” she answered playfully, kissing his cheek as her fingers traced idle patterns over his chest. Her gaze held his with a spark of anticipation. “What are you going to do about it?”

Bucky’s eyes darkened, the corners of his mouth twitching as his hand slid higher, his grip firm but coaxing. “Guess you’ll find out,” he said, his voice barely more than a growl as he kissed her again, deeper and more insistent this time. She gasped softly against his mouth, threading her fingers into his hair and pulling him closer.

His touch became more insistent, one hand sliding up her side, the fabric of her blouse bunching under his fingers. Without breaking the kiss, he unbuttoned it promptly and removed it in two smooth motions. He leaned back just enough to take her in, his eyes trailing over the curves of her body with open appreciation. His lips parted slightly, and a low, almost reverent hum rumbled from his chest. “You’re so damn beautiful,” he muttered, his voice rough with need as his hands moved to unhook her bra.

The straps fell away, and he cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her sensitive nipples. She let out a soft whimper, slightly arching her body into his touch. “Perfect,” he murmured, leaning down to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the swell of her breast. His lips trailed down, and when his mouth closed around her nipple, sucking gently, a sharp moan escaped her lips. Her hand flew to his nape, her fingers tangling in his hair as she arched again, pressing him harder against her chest. The pressure of his mouth and the flick of his tongue were enough to send her mind spinning.

He growled softly against her skin, his other hand sliding down from her waist, hooking his arm under her knee, spreading her leg with ease, and angling her body to fit perfectly against his, with her back against his chest. His free hand trailed down, his fingers teasing the edge of her panties before pressing against the damp fabric. Her hips bucked instinctively at the contact, a sharp gasp escaping her he traced slow, deliberate circles over her clothed pussy.

“Today was a shitty day,” Bucky said huskily as his fingers pressed a little harder, drawing another moan from her lips. He leaned forward, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. “I appreciate it a lot... what you did here, sweetheart.”

His hand slipped under the waistband of her panties, his rough fingers finding her slick folds with ease. A strangled sound escaped her, as her hand flew to the back of his neck.

“I’m not very good with words,” he murmured, his voice vibrating against her skin. As he spoke, he pushed two fingers inside her, slow and deliberate, the stretch sending a wave of pleasure through her. “But I’m happy. Really.” His confession was soft, almost vulnerable, as his thumb began circling her clit with a practiced rhythm that sent her thoughts scattering.

Her head fell back, a moan spilling from her lips as her body arched against him. “Well, I can’t argue,” she panted, her words broken by pleasure, “this is a... a nice way of appreciation.”

His lips curved into a small smile against her neck as his fingers moved inside her with a slow, steady rhythm. Each motion drew soft gasps and moans from her lips, her body arching against him as the pleasure built. “Such a good girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing her skin. “You take care of me, and this is how I take care of you.” His voice was husky, laced with affection, and something darker, rougher.

Her breath hitched as he adjusted his angle slightly, his fingers curling inside her, hitting a spot that made her cry out. He chuckled softly, the sound low and rough in her ear. “There it is,” he growled, his pace quickening just enough to keep her teetering on the edge.

Her hands clutched at his thigh and neck, her nails digging in slightly as her hips moved instinctively against his hand. “B-Bucky,” she panted, her voice shaky, her head tipping back as she lost herself in the sensation.

When he shifted his arm slightly, a dry chuckle escaped him. “Fuck, I smell,” he muttered, half to himself, his self-consciousness creeping back in despite the moment.

She turned her head sharply, her flushed face meeting his. “My God, James,” she said firmly, her voice a mix of exasperation and arousal. “I told you, I’m okay with it.”

His brows quirked, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “So I’m James when you scold me?” he teased, pushing his fingers deeper, harder, making her gasp and stutter.

“T-That’s right,” she managed, her breath shuddering as his pace picked up. “I don’t mind you sweaty after a day of work... I think it’s hot, okay?” she confessed, her cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red.

His hand stilled for just a second, his gaze lifting to hers in surprise before a wide, wicked grin spread across his face. “You think it’s hot,” he repeated, his voice a low, teasing drawl. “Well, sweetheart, I think you’re hot when you’re like this.”

Without another word, his fingers moved faster, curling and pressing in ways that made her moan loudly, her head falling back as the pressure built to an unbearable peak. He trailed open-mouthed kisses along her throat, his stubble scraping lightly against her skin as his pace became relentless.

“Maybe,” he murmured between kisses, his voice a husky whisper that sent tremors through her, “I could be Jamie when you cum. What do you say, darlin’?”

Her moans turned into breathless cries, her body trembling as his words pushed her closer to the edge. His thumb pressed harder against her clit, and with one final, precise movement, she shattered, her climax crashing over her in a wave of heat and pleasure.

She called out his name, her body arching as her walls clenched around his fingers. He didn’t stop, coaxing her through every aftershock, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “That’s it, good girl. Let go for me.”

When she finally slumped back against him with ragged breathing, he pulled his hand back, cradling her against his chest with a satisfied smirk. “So,” he said softly, his tone laced with playful arrogance, “Jamie it is, huh?”

She swatted his shoulder weakly, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

“And now,” Bucky murmured between kisses at the back of her neck, his voice dark and laced with promise, “I’m going to show you exactly what I’m going to do about this skirt of yours.”

Before she could respond, his hands gripped her hips firmly as he shifted them both to the floor in one fluid motion. Her knees hit the soft rug beneath them, and he pressed himself against her back, slowly grinding his erection against her rear. One of his hands slid up to her waist, holding her firmly in place as his other hand moved to the nape of her neck, pressing her down gently but firmly against the coffee table.

The rough wood met her forearms, her body bent at just the right angle to have her completely at his mercy. Her breath hitched as she felt his hand leave her nape briefly, the sound of his belt unbuckling and the zipper of his jeans being drawn down making her pulse race.

With one hand still firm on her hip, Bucky gathered the fabric of her skirt and lifted it, baring her ass to him. His large, rough palm cupped one cheek, squeezing it firmly. “Seems to me,” he said, his voice gravelly and dripping with lust, “you came here intending to be taken advantage of.”

A low chuckle escaped her lips, her body reacting instinctively as she arched her back and parted her thighs slightly, lifting her hips toward him. “Can you blame me?” she teased, with a breathy voice, the words laced with anticipation.

His lips curled into a grin as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and tugged them down in one swift motion, leaving them tangled around her knees. “Who am I,” he murmured, his tone dark and teasing, “to deny you what you want, especially after you pamper me, hm?” His pupils were blown as he stared at her pussy, slick and glistening with arousal. A low groan rumbled from his chest as he wrapped a hand around his cock, thick and heavy, precum already beading at the tip. He ran the swollen head through her folds, spreading her wetness over his length. The sensation made her gasp, her hips pressing back against him instinctively.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, savoring how wet and ready she was for him. Gripping her hip tightly, he lined himself up and began to press into her slowly, the blunt head of his cock stretching her open inch by inch.

She mewled at the stretch, the fullness making her fingers clutch the edge of the coffee table for support. As he slid deeper, a low moan spilled from her lips, as her body adjusted to take him to the hilt. He paused there, his chest pressing against her back as he leaned forward, his lips brushing her ear. “Are you alright, sweetheart?” he murmured, his voice was rough but tinged with genuine care, though he already knew the answer. The feel of her walls clenching around him, pulling him in even tighter, made it clear she was more than alright.

Her breath hitched again, her body shuddering under his, and she nodded quickly, her voice a little shaky but firm. “Yes,” she whispered, her tone carrying a mix of need and reassurance.

Satisfied, he let out a low, satisfied hum, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck before rolling his hips experimentally, drawing a sharp gasp from her lips.

Bucky pulled back almost completely before thrusting forward again, his pace slow and deliberate, letting her feel every inch of his cock stretch and fill her. The low, guttural groan that escaped his lips was unrestrained, a sound that vibrated deep in his chest as he rolled his hips again, savoring the way her pussy clenched around him.

It was like something unlocked inside him, the tension he carried in every interaction, every moment of his day, dissolving as he lost himself in the heat of her. Here, he didn’t have to hold back or second-guess. There was no space for hesitation, no room for what ifs, just her body arching beneath him and her soft moans urging him on.

“You feel so fucking good,” he muttered with a rough voice, the words falling from his lips without filter or pretense. He pulled back to watch the way his cock disappeared into her, his grip tightening on her as he snapped his hips harder, a sharp slap of skin meeting skin filling the air. “Made for me, aren’t you?”

Her whimper in response only spurred him on, his hand sliding up her back to press between her shoulder blades, bending her further over the coffee table as his thrusts picked up a relentless rhythm.

Her cries grew louder, her fingers clutching at the table for stability as she pushed back against him, meeting his movements with desperation. “Bucky!” she cried out, her voice breaking as his relentless thrusts sent waves of pleasure coursing through her.

“That’s it,” he growled, his lips brushing against her shoulder as he drove into her harder, deeper. “Say it again, sweetheart.”

“Bucky,” she gasped, her breath hitching as his fingers worked her clit with precision with her body trembling beneath him.

A grin spread across his lips as he leaned closer, his voice rough and teasing. “What about… Jamie? Hmm? Can I be your Jamie when you fall apart for me?”

Her head tipped back, and a flush crept up her neck as the name fell from her lips, breathless and needy. “J-Jamie...”

His groan was low and guttural, his hips stuttering for a moment before he caught his rhythm again. The way her voice carried his name sent a thrill through his body.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his pace quickening as his free hand slid up her back, holding her steady. “Say it again, darling. Let me hear it.”

“Jamie!” she cried, her voice trembling as the pressure in her core built to a breaking point.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his lips pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of her neck. “You’re so good for me. Taking all I give you.”

Her walls clenched around him, and she shuddered beneath him, her voice breaking as she gasped his name.

That was his undoing. His thrusts became harder, more erratic as he chased his release, her pleasure pulling him closer to the edge. “That’s it,” he growled, his voice strained but commanding. “Come for me, sweetheart. Come on my cock.”

She shattered, her cries echoing through the room as her climax ripped through her, her body arching and trembling under his hands.

Hearing her call his diminutive over and over as her body convulsed around him was enough to send him spiraling. With a guttural groan, he followed her over the edge, his hips driving into her one last time as he spilled inside her.

As the intensity ebbed, she slumped forward, her body draped over the coffee table, with a ragged and shallow breathing. Bucky followed her, his chest pressing against her back as they both came down from the high with their bodies still connected.

For a moment, neither of them moved, the only sound in the room was their uneven breaths. Then, with a soft grunt, Bucky wrapped his arms around her waist, his grip firm but gentle as he pulled her upright. “C’mere,” he murmured, his voice still gravelly, though softer now. He shifted, sitting back on the thick rug, and dragged her with him, settling her in his lap. Her back rested against his broad chest, his arms enveloping her in a warm, protective hug.

She melted into him, her head tipping back to rest on his shoulder as his chin came to rest atop her head. One of his arms enveloped her below her breasts holding her securely against him, while the other traced slow, idle patterns on her thigh.

“You’re amazing,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she reached back with her hand and caressed his stubbed cheek.

Bucky stilled for a moment, her words catching him off guard. He swallowed hard, his arms tightening around her slightly. “I think that’s my line,” he muttered, his lips brushing against her hair. “You’re the one who...” He trailed off, shaking his head with a small, self-deprecating chuckle. “You’re just amazing.”

She turned her head slightly to look up at him, her lips curving into a tender smile. “I like this,” she said, full of affection.

“Hmm?” he hummed, tilting his head slightly to glance down at her.

“This,” she repeated, gesturing to the way his arms were wrapped around her. “You. Holding me like this. Feels like home.”

His breath hitched, and he kissed the top of her head gently, tightening his embrace even further. “You… feel like home too.” he admitted, with a softer voice.

After a few minutes of quiet, she broke the silence, her tone turning playful. “So,” she said, glancing up at him with a teasing smile, “Will I get this treatment every time I cook you a hearty meal?”

Bucky froze for a moment, her question pulling him from the comfortable haze of their embrace. His body tensed slightly, and his usual awkwardness crept back in as his brain finally caught up with what she was saying.

“... maybe,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible as his fingers fidgeted against her waist.

She blinked, her smile widening as she tried, and failed, not to laugh. “What was that?” she teased, twisting in his lap just enough to catch the faint pink creeping up his neck. “I didn’t hear you, Jamie.”

At the sound of the name, his eyes widened briefly, and a groan rumbled from his chest as he pressed his face into the crook of her neck, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Don’t...” he started, his voice muffled, but she cut him off with a laugh, her fingers brushing through his hair.

“You are so cute, you know that?”

He let out a dry chuckle, a sound tinged with disbelief as he leaned back slightly to meet her gaze. “I’ve been called a lot of things in my life,” he muttered with a  wry tone, “but it’s a first time for cute.”

She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. “Well, you are,” she said firmly, her eyes bright with affection. “And I dare anyone to say otherwise.”

His lips twitched, the faintest smile breaking through his usual reserve. “You’re something else,” he murmured, his arms tightening around her as he buried his face in her hair again.

He held her close for a moment longer, her warmth making it harder to let go. Finally, he cleared his throat, breaking the comfortable silence. “You... wanna stay the night?” he asked, his tone casual, but laced with a hint of hesitation.

Her lips curved into a soft smile as she leaned back just enough to meet his gaze. “I’d love to.”

“Good,” he said, the word gruff but filled with quiet satisfaction. Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “And no one’s gonna be ringing the doorbell early in the morning here,” his tone carrying a touch of grumpiness.

She chuckled, shaking her head. “Well, that is definitely a bonus.”

Her laughter eased some of the tension in his chest, but it crept back just as quickly. For a moment he froze, a flicker of doubt crossed his features as his mind wandered to his unused bed. Do I even have sheets on that thing? The memory hit him almost instantly: yes, he did. A week ago, he’d tossed a spare set on there after doing laundry, figuring it was better than leaving the mattress bare. He sighed with relief, and his lips curved into a small grin.

Without warning, he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her effortlessly, standing with her in his arms as if she weighed nothing, getting out of his pants with a little work of his legs.

“Bucky!” she squealed, laughing as she grabbed onto his shoulders for balance.

“You said yes,” he replied with a smirk, adjusting his hold as he headed toward the bathroom. “Now, come on. We both need a good scrubbing.”

Her laughter bubbled out as her hands slid up to cup his face. “You’re full of surprises tonight, Jamie” she teased with a playful tone.

Bucky’s brow quirked, a smirk tugging at his lips even as a faint flush crept up his cheeks. Tightening his hold on her, he leaned in, his voice dropping low and rough. “Oh, Jamie’s gonna teach you a lesson about poking bears,” he muttered, the teasing edge in his words sending a shiver down her spine.

Before she could fire back, his hand shifted, delivering a swift smack to her ass.

She gasped in surprise, jerking slightly, then bit her lip with a playful grin. “Is the big bad bear planning to plunder a honeypot tonight?” she asked, with a teasing undertone.

Bucky’s eyes went wide for a moment, and his steps faltered. His ears turned bright red as he stammered, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “What do you read in those novels?” he muttered, avoiding her gaze as his grip on her tightened slightly.

She grinned wickedly, undeterred. “It’s not like you haven’t already-”

Before she could finish, his hand came down with another sharp slap to her ass, making her squeal. “Enough outta you,” he growled, though the pink on his ears deepened.

“Oh, you can dish it out, but you can’t take it?” she teased, still grinning as she tightened her arms around his shoulders.

He let out a low groan, shaking his head as he adjusted his grip, carrying her effortlessly into the bathroom. “You’re a menace,” he muttered.

“And you like it,” she countered, leaning in to kiss his cheek, her lips brushing against his flushed skin.

His stride slowed as he turned his head to look at her, his tired blue eyes softer now. The teasing glint had faded, replaced by something deeper, more vulnerable. “Yeah,” he admitted quietly, his voice low and raw. “I do.”

As they crossed into the bathroom, he leaned his forehead against hers. “You make it easy to forget everything else,” he murmured, his voice barely audible but weighted with a truth he rarely allowed himself to share.

Her arms tightened around him, as she pressed a kiss in the corner of his mouth. She could feel the unspoken heaviness behind his words, the burdens he carried in silence. But she didn’t push. She knew he would tell her when he was ready, about his struggles, his past, and the shadows that still lingered in his mind. “I’m glad Bucky, you deserve that.”

His chest rose and fell with a deep breath, his arms tightening around her as he held her close. For a moment, the world outside the bathroom, outside this cabin, ceased to exist. He dipped his head slightly, brushing her lips in a tender, unhurried kiss, filled with gratitude and unspoken promises, a glimpse of the feelings he couldn’t yet bring himself to express.

[lilislegacy]

i love how in heroes of olympus, there’s a boat full of couples (+leo☺️). and yet even if you didn’t know when each couple started dating, it’s so blatantly obvious that percy and annabeth have been together the longest, and are the most serious

cause frank and hazel are still pretty nervous/unsure with each other. they JUST started dating, and are so pure and adorable. they just haven’t quite figured out the romance part yet

and jason and piper have their moments, but they’re just so… distant. like not physically, of course, but they just don’t really seem to connect on a deep level. and they aren’t super affectionate, at least not physically or openly. piper is constantly unsure about where they’re at, and while jason has thoughts about how great piper is, he doesn’t openly show his feelings too often.

but percabeth? they’re the oldest in age (physically), have known each other the longest, and have been romantically committed to each other for the most time. they act like they’ve been together for eternity, which is funny since they were technically only dating for 4 months before percy got abducted. but they just have such a deep history together and such an intense connection. they’re in it for the long run. there’s no doubt or uncertainty - and it shows. like…annabeth is so wife girlfriend. there are so many funny/cute little moments, like her scolding him for putting too much syrup on his pancakes, and telling him to take a shower when he smells bad. and when percy suggests him and jason should go on a dangerous quest instead of annabeth and piper, instead of being like “omg he cares so much about me😍” (which hazel and piper would have done) annabeth is like “what seaweed brain?? you think two guys can do better than two girls??” and percy is immediately like “uh uh NO nope i definitely do NOT think that!!” he knows better. the immediate fear is so husband boyfriend of him. they simultaneously have the most disagreements (remember when percy called annabeth out when she thought she should navigate through rome alone, and basically called her stupid for thinking it was a good idea, and then they argued and had a face-off, which percy won) - while also being the most lovey dovey (they’re constantly putting their hands on each other - annabeth putting her hand on his chest to calm him down, putting their hands on each other’s arms for support, percy having his arm around her when they’re at the edge of the ship, always giving each other a kiss on the mouth or the cheek when they separate, etc). and they have no issues sneaking off in the middle of the night to do some talking and kissing. and quite frankly, making out in front of piper in BoO (remember that? when piper got super uncomfortable at how long their kiss was lasting, and then annabeth let out, and i quote, “grunt-whimpers”). they are just so natural and comfortable with each other. piper says it herself.

i just think it’s so funny. little frazel being adorable and blushing when they hold hands, jiper is happy to be dating but they’re also a little angsty and uncertain, and then there’s percabeth just being the old married couple they are. (and leo is being cute and fixing stuff)

[kateschi]

get them fangirls away!

synopsis: katsuki’s greatest battle isn’t on the field—it’s surviving relentless fangirls. good thing he has you to shield him

pairing: secondyear!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

katsuki doesn’t run away from fights. he’s a fighter—loud, explosive, and always ready for a challenge.

but this?

this is different. this is a nightmare of his own making, and no amount of explosions is going to fix it.

“dynamight-senpai!” the shrill voices echo down the hallway like a siren’s call, and katsuki’s eye twitches.

his palms spark with irritation as he quickens his pace, trying to lose them in the maze of ua corridors.

but they’re relentless, chasing after him like their lives depend on it. why the hell don’t these brats know when to quit?

“dynamight-senpai! wait for us!”

he clenches his jaw. they’re like a pack of wolves, except these wolves ask for autographs and selfies instead of sinking their teeth in. still, they’re dangerous.

his eyes dart around, scanning the hallway for any possible escape route, when he spots you up ahead.

you’re leaning casually against your locker, completely unaware of the chaos barrelling toward you.

a plan clicks into place immediately.

he pushes off the ground, sprinting towards you with quick, desperate steps.

the frantic pounding of his footsteps catches your attention just as he skids to a stop behind you, ducking down to use you as a human shield.

“katsuki—what the hell are you doing?” you ask, eyes wide with confusion as you turn to face him.

“fangirls!” he hisses, crouching even lower behind you, his breath slightly ragged. his red eyes flicker toward the hallway entrance where the fangirls are rounding the corner, their faces lighting up the moment they spot him.

before you can ask any more questions, the first-years come to a screeching halt in front of you, out of breath but still buzzing with excitement.

they don’t even seem to notice you, their eyes locked onto katsuki who is half-hidden behind you like a kid caught in trouble.

“dynamight-senpai!” the leader squeals, pushing her way to the front of the group. “we’ve been looking all over for you!”

katsuki grits his teeth and curses under his breath, barely peeking over your shoulder. his hand grips your shoulder a little tighter, holding onto you for dear life.

“go away,” he growls, but his usual explosive tone is muffled by your presence, sounding more irritated than intimidating.

the fangirls, however, are undeterred. in fact, they seem even more excited by the sight of their idol so close—and apparently, within reach.

“we just want a picture, dynamight-senpai!” one of them pleads, her eyes sparkling with admiration. “just one, please?”

“no,” he snaps, but it’s lacking the usual bite. his eyes dart to yours, desperation flashing across his face for a split second. “damn it, why won’t they leave?”

you bite back a laugh. the mighty katsuki, hiding behind his girlfriend from a group of over-eager first-years. this is too good.

taking a step forward, you square your shoulders and block katsuki from view even more. “I think you heard him. he said no.”

the leader of the fangirls blinks, her enthusiasm faltering just a bit as she finally acknowledges your presence. “wait... are you...?”

you raise an eyebrow, your lips curling into a knowing smirk. “yeah, I’m his girlfriend.”

the words hang in the air for a moment, and you can practically see the wave of shock that ripples through the group.

the girls exchange stunned looks, their expressions ranging from disbelief to awe.

“dynamight-senpai has a girlfriend?!” one of them whispers, her eyes going wide.

katsuki smirks as he straightens up a little behind you. “yeah, you heard her. my girlfriend. and if you don’t back off, she’ll beat your asses into the ground.”

you glance back at him, giving him a pointed look. “seriously? that’s your plan?”

“damn right it is,” he mutters, crossing his arms as if he’s made the smartest move ever. “they’re annoyin’ the hell outta me. figured I’d let you handle it.”

one of the girls in the back gasps, clutching her hands to her chest.

“wait, we didn’t mean to upset him! we’re just...we’re such big fans of dynamight-senpai! he’s so amazing!”

“yeah!” another chimes in, her eyes wide and pleading. “we didn’t mean any harm!”

you sigh, looking them over. they’re not bad kids—just... overly enthusiastic.

but katsuki is your boyfriend, and while you’re used to his temper, you’re not about to let anyone, even a group of fangirls, mess with him.

“look, I get it,” you say, your tone softening slightly, though you still keep it firm.

“you’re excited and all, but katsuki isn’t some kind of photo op. he’s just trying to get through his day. how about you give him some space?”

the leader looks embarrassed now, her earlier excitement faltering. “we didn’t mean to bother him...”

katsuki huffs from behind you. “you did.”

you glance at him over your shoulder, shaking your head slightly. “so helpful.”

he grumbles under his breath but stays quiet, letting you handle it. you turn back to the girls, offering them a small smile. “just...be respectful, okay?”

the leader nods quickly, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “y-yeah, we’ll leave him alone. sorry for bothering you, dynamight-senpai and h/n-senpai.”

katsuki grunts, obviously relieved they’re finally getting the hint. the group lingers for a moment longer before they start shuffling away down the hall, their chatter much quieter now.

once they are gone, you turn to katsuki, raising an eyebrow. “so... hiding behind your girlfriend now? that’s a new one.”

he scowls, though the faint blush creeping up his neck was hard to miss. “shut up. I wasn’t hiding.”

you can’t help but laugh, nudging him with your shoulder. “sure, ‘cause using me as a shield isn’t hiding.”

“tch. you handled it, didn’t you?” he shoves his hands into his pockets, avoiding your gaze. “better than blowin’ ‘em up.”

you smile, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “you’re lucky I’ve got your back.”

he grumbles something under his breath, clearly too stubborn to admit you were right, but he takes his hand out of his pocket to intertwine your fingers together.

of course, that isn’t without a side-eye when you grin.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

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