#it's a bit too cold to go out and all today

[puck-luck]

heya Andy! I’m so so so happy for you and proud of all that you’ve reached within your one year!!! I’m especially happy that we’ve gotten to know each other🥹 I absolutely adore YOU.❤️

could I please get a chai latte with peppermint (frat!quinn) with a little bit of cold foam!

maybe something like: frat!quinn steals the it girl from his rival fraternity president when he sees him not treating her right. (talking down to her, ignoring her, talking to other girls?) she’s stand offish at first with his rep as being the quiet yet cocky one but when he gets her alone? pics that inspo my thots⇩

got carried away but what can you do... when frat!quinn is helping you cheat on your toxic older frat boyfriend matthew tkachuk...... well. it's an appealing offer. we'll see where these two go in the future ;)

thank you cay (@rowdyluv) for sending this request and thank you for all of the support you've shown me over this past year :) i am thankful for you!! it's always nice to make friends on tumblr dot com <3

It’s homecoming week and you’re just about fed up with your boyfriend, Matthew. He, his brother Brady, and his father are somewhere in the Chi Phi house, leaving you stranded on the lawn. His mom is at the hotel with Taryn, since she’s not old enough to drink yet and Matthew didn’t want to bring his younger sister to the frat. You shouldn’t be upset with him, really– it’s his senior year. It’s his final football season, his final homecoming game. You’ve still got a whole year ahead of you, a junior to Matthew’s senior.

You’re nursing your drink, shaking the ice from the edges of your glass. You like the brothers, but you’re not close with them. None of your friends are here because Matthew doesn’t like them. They’re over at Xi Chi, the frat next door who’s also having a homecoming pregame. 

Despite having been elected sweetheart of Chi Phi just a few weeks ago, with heavy campaigning on Matthew’s part, you cross the invisible boundary between frat houses and make your way into the Xi Chi backyard. A brunet boy materializes at your side, cradling a solo cup in his hand.

“You’re Matt’s girlfriend,” he says. “Y/N.”

When you look over, you recognize him too. This is Brady’s friend. He went to Brady’s birthday dinner and sat at the other end of the table, quiet but quippy. He always had something to say at just the right time and Matthew elbowed you when you blatantly laughed at… Quincy?... ‘s joke.

“Yeah, and you’re… I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name,” you apologize genuinely, touching the boy’s hand. Brady is a year younger than you, so this guy must be a sophomore. Matthew threw a fit when he got home from that birthday dinner full of sophomores, declaring that he needed a night out with his boys– and he went. It was too late for you to make plans with your friends and you had to paint a cooler for Matthew for formal anyway, so you stayed in that night.

Luckily, this guy doesn’t seem offended. He chuckles. “Quinn,” he says. “What are you doing over here? Chucky’s not wondering where you are?”

“No, not today,” you reply. “He’s with his dad.”

Quinn nods. “Oh, yeah, Brady said Keith was coming into town for homecoming. Where are your friends?”

“Around here somewhere.” You continue on, describing what your friends were wearing in the picture they sent you this morning.

Quinn cringes. “I think they left a little while ago,” he says, breaking the news gently.

“Oh.” You don’t know what else to say.

“Here, hang with me,” Quinn offers. “I was just going to play pong with Petey and Demmer. Matt knows them. He likes them. We’ll keep you from talking to any of the guys he doesn’t fuck with, yeah?”

Just the mention of talking to guys Matthew doesn’t like makes your blood pressure spike. He’s gotten in one too many drunken brawls with your male friends and acquaintances, his jealousy tainting his vision red. You hate seeing him fighting, especially when you’re the one who has to drag him away. There have been a couple of times that people from your classes have stopped talking to you after Matthew threatens them. It’s just easier to avoid.

You agree to play pong with the boys, laughing with slim Petey and sweet Demmer. Quinn stands beside you, chuckling and jabbing back at the boys– and you– when they make cutting jokes. You feel comfortable next to him, laughing and growing more loose as you consume more beer.

You and Quinn lose the game, which would be sad enough without the tall boy you’re required to shotgun after losing. You’ve got a pleasant buzz afterward and Quinn offers to accompany you while you get another drink from the kitchen, his own tipsy smile convincing you that it’s a good idea to end up alone with him.

He talks with you as you fill a cup with jungle juice, the sharp taste of vodka mixing with the somewhat chemical flavor of cheap Hawaiian Punch. You drink one cup and make Quinn his own when you fix up your second, talking with him all the while.

His lips are stained red and his eyes are bright when he crushes his cup and tosses it into the messy frat sink. His hair falls messily forward as he fixes his backwards cap, the smile on his face stunning you.

You make either the worst mistake or best decision of your life in a split second, driven by the drinks and the genuine attention Quinn has given you. You kiss him right there, in the Xi Chi kitchen, with your boyfriend and his family just next door.

Better yet, Quinn kisses you back. He cups your butt with both hands, pulling you close and keeping you flush with him. He kisses messily, lazy and hungry at the same time. You feel yourself growing dizzy from his touch and his taste, tongue working into Quinn’s mouth to chase the thrill of desire. 

He’s greedy with you, lifting you up onto the counter and continuing to kiss you. Quinn grinds against your core, standing between your legs and running his hands all along your body. It’s good and you can feel how badly he wants you, how badly you want him, from the tension pulsing where your bodies connect. 

“Are you going to the game?” Quinn asks between breathless kisses.

You snap out of the moment. You forgot– actually forgot– you weren’t kissing Matthew. Quinn’s voice startles you, then the guilt sets in. “Oh my God,” you think aloud. “Oh my God.”

Quinn lifts his hands from your body immediately. 

“You can’t tell Matthew,” you instruct, hopping down from the counter and fixing your outfit. “You can’t tell Brady.”

“I swear,” Quinn promises, extending his pinkie to you. “I won’t tell them.”

You go to leave, pushing past Quinn, but he catches your arm.

“Look– Matthew’s not good to you,” Quinn says in a low voice. “You know it. I know it. If any part of you enjoyed what we just did… you know where to find me.” 

He releases your arm, freeing you to flee, but you feel rooted in place. After a moment, you shake the feeling away. You can’t deal with this right now– there’s no time to process that you just kissed another boy, another boy who affirmed that your boyfriend isn’t good for you, not when that boyfriend is probably wondering where you are next door. You need to appear before he gets suspicious and thinks something is happening, something exactly like this.

“Just–” You cut yourself off, shaking your head. “I can’t do this right now. I have to go.”

A small smile appears on Quinn’s red lips. “Okay,” he says. “Good luck, Y/N. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

You run back to the Chi Phi party, back to Matthew, but there’s a niggling voice in the back of your head for the rest of the night: you liked kissing Quinn. A LOT more than kissing Matthew.

[friskalicousbiscuits]

Neglected The Mask!reader x platonic Yan!Batfam

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5

I’d also like to say this Reader is Gender Neutral or at least you can pick your gender. Most of the pronouns are “you” and when they are referred to by other people, its “they” so… Yeah! Have fun reading and tell me if there are any spelling mistakes or things that don’t make sense.

Chapter Four

6:13pm

Today marked the fourth day you possessed the mask. As of now, you were doing your usual jog home. It was about six, which was about as late as you dared to get out of school. Your particular jog this evening was a little closer to a run due to the second newest rogue in Gotham.

The Shadow Thief.

No, no, not that one Hawkman villain who can turn into a shadow and steals from museums and stuff. This Shadow Thief actually steals shadows.

Since yesterday night, a little bit after you retired from being a rogue and singing at the Penguin’s club, multiple people have reported their shadows being stolen. It was all over the news! A mother, a husband, a child, whoever this was clearly had no discrimination. Heck, they’ve even successfully hit Mr Freeze! One of the biggest rogues in Gotham! It was apparently in the middle of a fight with Batman too. According to witnesses, Robin also got his shadow stolen as well, but the Bats left before it could actually be confirmed.

Now as for you? Like mentioned before, you were just running, and praying that this guy doesn’t steal your shadow too.

You were almost home free too. Then, you just happened to turn the corner just as some guy was getting his shadow stolen.

Crappy luck, am I right?

You skid to a stop, wide-eyed as the man thrashed and tried to punch at the shadow thing swarming him.

“Get offa me!” He yelled gruffly before the living shadow’s hands grabbed onto his own shadow. The sound of it peeling away from the man was similar to a shriek. The man’s shadow also clawed at the thing trying to steal it away before it stuffed it into a sack. The man dropped to the ground, arms going around himself. “Cold… fuck, it’s freezing.”

Okay, you need to leave. Now.

You took a step back as quietly as you could. That didn’t stop the shadow from whipping its head towards you. It… stared? It didn’t have a face so you couldn’t really tell, but you got the distinct feeling that it was in fact, staring at you. It fell into a crouch. You thought it was about to lunge at you, but then it jumped. High into the sky until something else, a blur of green and blue could be seen locking elbows with it. They spawn in the air together slowly falling to the ground. It reminded you of leaves.

“What? What’s got you so riled up?” You could now see that the blue and green blur…

…was a kid?

He looked to be around Damian’s age, and while shorter height-wise than your brother, the kid’s hair, that was sticking almost straight up, would’ve surpassed Damian. Speaking of his hair it was a dark blue with whitish streaks.

Almost like he-who-shall-not-be-named.

Though, the kid had two white streaks instead of one. His skin was blue too, lighter than his hair and he was dressed like, well, the closest thing you could compare it to was an edgy Peter Pan, minus the hat. And judging by the way he and, what you’re assuming is his, shadow fell so gracefully? He probably had some fairy dust on him too.

You noticed the shadow start pointing at you, and jumping a little bit as if excited. Oh right. The kid was talking to it.

Could it not talk back?

You watched the kid’s eyes land on you. They very visibly brightened and the next thing you knew, you were being almost tackled by both the kid and his shadow. The kids arms were around your neck, so was the shadow’s but you couldn’t really feel them. The momentum from them running at you and jumping on you caused you to spin for a little bit while they still both held onto you. When you eventually stopped both the spinning and feeling the dizziness from said spinning, you tensed, waiting for it the try and peel your shadow away like plaster.

But nothing came.

“There you are! Marked by the mask! Oh buddy oh pal, it’s so good to see you again!” The kid said with a grin as both he and his shadow let go and dropped back to the ground.

“What?!”

Both the weird, little, blue-skinned child and its shadow started circling you, looking you over. “So what’s the deal this time? You a warlord again?”

“No?”

“Outlaw?”

“No!” You exclaimed, though that one was technically true.

“Tyrant?”

“N—”

The kid held up a hand. “No. I get it.” He and his shadow stopped circling to stand in front of you. “So then what’s your deal now? You’re a little younger than the previous times but…”

“But what? Who even are you?!” You were extremely confused. You were also a little stuck on the marked by the mask thing.

Did that mean what you think it meant?

The kid stared a little dumbly before letting out an “Ooooooooh.” He let out a little laugh. “Right. You’re not Masky right now, that’s my bad. Skillet’s the name and stealing shadows is my game.” Skillet put a hand out for a shake.

You very hesitantly shook it. “You’re the shadow thief?” You asked as you also shook the shadow’s hand. It felt more like shaking air, but you supposed it was the thought that counted.

“Correct-o! Keeps me young. I don’t look a day over 12, do I?” Skillet bragged.

“Not at all.” You said, a little dumbly, still confused. He really did look twelve, but if that was the case… “How old are you then?”

“Four thousand.”

A small silence pooled between you both.

“Four thousand?” You repeated, tone incredulous.

“A shocker, I know.” The kid said with a proud grin as both he and his shadow twin started to float.

He didn’t even sprinkle some fairy dust on himself. Wow.

“Listen Masky, I got places to be shadows to steal, and you can’t become my Masky until nightfall. So…” Skillet spun around until he stopped and pointed at Gotham’s Clocktower. “Ooh! Meet me over there when you put the mask on.”

“Okay?” Wow, you were actually agreeing to this. Meeting up with this random magical kid who steals shadows.

Was this your first villain connection as a rogue?

Was that also appropriate to be happy about if that was the case?

“Great! We’re gonna have so much fun together again! Just you and me! Torturing the innocents!”

“I’m sorry, what?!”

Skillet and the shadow waved in sync. “See ya later!” With that, they flew off, leaving you to watch them go in utter confusion.

Bruce Wayne - Batman POV

10:28pm

Constantine was back in the cave again. After his incoherent rant from yesterday that involved the words mask and Loki, he’d left and said he’d be back the next day to “further ingrain how bloody bad this is”. The aforementioned next day has finally rolled around and here he was acting like a drill sergeant, pacing around the room while Bruce’s family watched the man in all his brilliance, he’d even taken Bruce’s bat-pointer (a laser pointer but instead of a red dot it’s a red bat) so he could point to the screen.

“Okay, so we know of this individual, yes?” The blonde man asked as he circled the newest rogue’s face a couple times with Bruce’s bat-pointer.

Everyone nodded.

“Well, you see, this bloke is someone not to be fucked around with. Do you understand me?” The man said with a serious face.

Tim raised his hand. Constantine sighed in response. “You don’t have to raise your hand, kid. What is it?”

Tim put his hand back down. “What about this guy is so bad exactly? I mean, yeah, their powers are kind of crazy, but all they’ve really done is steal and destroy property.”

That seemed to make Constantine pause. “Really?”

“…yeah?” Tim rose a brow. It wasn’t visible from under his mask.

“Huh.” Constantine turned around to start muttering to himself. Bruce heard the words good and thank the gods.

“What was that? I’d like to know how big of a threat the being in my city that you claim to be dangerous is.” Bruce spoke.

The man turned back around. “Right. So we might’ve just gotten extremely lucky.”

Bruce’s eyes, and by extension his mask’s white eye slits, narrowed. “Explained.”

“If you’re right and the mask has shown no desire to torture, maim, kill, etcetera… a good person might’ve gotten the mask.”

“A good person?”

“Yes, a good person. And if that’s the case, we can ignore them until they do try and kill a man.”

“Wait, ignore them? While they haven’t killed anyone, they’re still a criminal.” Jason spoke up from where he was leant against a desk.

“Yes, but, be that as it may, there’s a bigger threat coming if the Mask of Loki is in Gotham.” Constantine sighed putting the bat-pointer down. “The Prince of Shadowland should be coming any day now.”

“Who?” Stephanie piped up.

“The Prince of Shadowland. He’s, as his name suggests, the Prince of Shadowland, a land of eternal night. The last record of him is from 1880 when Billy the Kid possessed it.”

“Billy the Kid had the same powers as our guy?” Tim asked.

“Yes. And the wizards and witches of that time also recorded him to be a blue-skinned child, bestowed the name Skillet by the outlaw in question. The child went around stealing shadows which resulted in rapid aging of its victims and then death. That’s why he’s the bigger threat. We have to prepare if he comes to Gotham.” The man paced back and forth with a grave expression.

Duke’s phone chiming interrupted the silence after Constantine’s words. “Uh… Constantine?”

“Yes?”

“I think this Skillet guy is already here.” Duke said as he turned the phone around, so the blonde man could see. It was a news report titled Shadow Thief: Gotham’s Second Newest Rogue. “And our mask person might not be so good if they’re hanging around him.” The photo was a picture of The Mask, Bruce supposed he’d just call them that, and this new character, Skillet, eating ice cream on a bench together.

“Fuck me.” Constantine groaned.

Skillet - The Shadow Thief POV

9:42pm

Skillet was waiting, patiently anticipating, the arrival of one of his bestest friends in the whole wide world.

Masky!

He was sitting atop the Clocktower, playing patty cake with his shadow, when finally, finally Masky came. It had been so long since he’d seen his friend! He hasn’t seen his friend since Billy, and who knows how long that’s been in the human world! So that’s why when Masky finally showed up, he was ecstatic. He didn’t even have to run over to hug them either! They came to him!

“Ah! Skillet! Buddy-oh-pal-oh-friend! It’s been so long! I swear, stewing at the bottom of a lake really does suck. So, what’re we gonna do, bud?” Masky picked Skillet up and spun him around a bit before doing the same to Skillet’s shadow. His friend was wearing a black suit with little cartoony ghosts on it. Cool…

“Oh! Well, I was thinking we could go pick up a bunch of innocent people and then torture them together like old times!” Skillet said, his shadow hopping in agreement.

That seemed to make Masky falter. “Eh… Sorry, bud but I don’t think I can do that.”

“Wha— Why? But we always do that together! Well, besides the time you were Honest Abe, but…”

“And that’s my point! It seems that this body also has…” Masky made a show of gagging. “…morals!”

Skillet couldn’t stop the gasp from leaving him. “No!”

“I know. I know.” Masky nodded solemnly. “But don’t fret too much, my young-looking friend. For you see, they aren’t as strong as our old buddy Abe’s.” Masky grinned. “We just have to pick some bad people.”

“Eh... But it’s always more fun inflicting on the innocents. They always go on screaming why why why but…” Skillet trailed off. He did wanna spend his time torturing people with Masky. And sure, it’d be a little harder to weed out the bad apples, but he still wants to spend time with his friend. “I suppose that could do.” He grumbled after his shadow nudged him to answer.

“Great, and we can get ice cream afterwards!” With that, Masky took a few steps back before doing a running jump and swan dive off the Clocktower.

That got both Skillet and his shadow to perk up and jump down after him. “Heck yeah!”

Richard “Dick” Grayson - POV

6:12am - the next day

Patrol was a bust. Well, not entirely. Two-Face tried to rob a bank and he went straight back to Arkham. But… no other information on the Mask and Shadow Thief other than the fact that they might be best friends, spanning, literal generations of mask users.

Dick just hoped this morning wouldn’t be a bust either? Why? Well, he was going to talk to [Name] about their little… talking to themselves problem. He overheard them again last night in their room, and when he cracked the door open to take a peek, he saw you staring at the ceiling, having a conversation with both Ace and someone who definitely wasn’t there. (The Mask would translate for Ace, so it was a respectable three-way conversation.)

He entered the kitchen on a mission. To confront you. Instead, he was confronted himself with a rather cute sight in his opinion. Bruce, you, and Tim, in that order were taking up the seats on the kitchen island. All sleepy-eyed with bed-head and sipping coffee in synchronicity. Bruce and Tim were having a conversation about the case while you were almost nodding off at the table.

…Dick would ask about your mental state another day.

Extra Info:

1.) Skillet is in fact a canon character, though because he doesn’t exactly have much information on him. I added some stuff. Like for example, here’s this, skillet’s name isn’t skillet. He’s 4000 years old, his original language has died out by now. His name will literally be whatever the closest thing to cooking stuff on is. Like in ancient Babylonia, he was called Babylonian for pot. 2.) The scene where the mask and Skillet reunite could be seen through the lens of a divorced dad coming to pick up his kids. 3.) Hi, this is me halfway through the story. His name is Skillit. Not Skillet. I’ll fix it the next chapter. 4.) Next chapter you’ll finally get yandere stuff! Yay!

Taglist: @yourtypicalhuman09 @cupid73 @yhin-gg @galaxypurplerose @xxgrimripp3rxx @hai-there-how-are-you @suckmyballzfr @yarn-mony @patatasolitaria @deathbynarcisstick @depressed--therapist @eyeless-kun @mary-jinx @natllo @d4rkf10w3er @mintynilla @whognuthis @bat1212 @blapbloep @vanessa-boo @randomlyappearingartist @otakusimp1 @iansimpsforeveryone @like-thechocolate @cruzerforce4256

[yukioos]

hi. hope ur having an amazing day today. i would like to ask if u could make a story with neito and how his or our parents(doesnt matter which!) catch y/n and him making out in a room w the door closed?

(basically ur hitoshi one but w neito instead?😭)

i am DOWN BAD for ur writing bc it’s so good like how?? but love ya and hope this can come true 🩷 (sorry if this made no sense at ALL i’m a little slow💔🙁)

when neito’s father catches you making out with his son

neito’s hands are warm, grasping the flesh of your hips on top of him. one of his hands raises to your back, running his hand under your shirt and up your spine. his soft touch leaves a soft, tickling sensation on your skin. you let out a sigh at the feeling, and he smiles more into the kiss at your satisfaction.

but you pull away from his lips, though he’s already chasing after you like a dog. you just want to admire him in all his beauty.

his hair is slightly disheveled, random strands spiking up from you running your hands through his hair. a few buttons on his dress shirt are unbuttoned, revealing his collarbone and more of his chest. he’s looking up at you so sweetly, lips jut out into a pout. there’s a slight red hue on his cheeks, he’s a bit embarrassed at how you’re observing him right now.

“you’re so handsome, neito,” you mumble, cradling his face in the palm of your hand. as soon as he feels your touch on his cheek, he pushes his cheek inward, wanting to feel you all over him.

god, he truly was pathetic like this.

his eyes are desperate, looking up at you, silently begging for more. as much as he hates to admit it, he loves it when you’re above him like this. he feels so vulnerable below you, knowing you could easily do something terrible, but you decide to cherish and praise him.

neito slowly and carefully gravitates towards you, asking for permission to kiss you again.

it doesn’t take you a lot to give in, and you crash your lips against his. he lets out a surprised, though not too loud moan at the sudden movement.

while he's mostly focused on your lips, you run one of your hands down his clothed chest and undo two more buttons. but while you’re busy unbuttoning his shirt, and he’s too focused on your soft lips, neither of you notices the steps ascending the multiple flights of stairs. even as the door opens, and the figure lets themself into neito’s large bedroom, he still doesn’t notice, instead continuing to place soft, teasing kisses on your cheek and down your neck.

now, you can’t imagine what neito’s father must be seeing. his oblivious son kissing his partner, whose face is beet red.

eventually, you tug a hand on his shirt, and he pauses, looking up at you so innocently and worriedly mumbling, “huh?” thinking he may have done something wrong.

but he looks to his left and sees his father staring at him with tired eyes, and that’s what makes the boy blush.

neito gasps and stumbles on his words, “what the— dad, we’re busy! couldn’t you have just knocked?!”

“i did,” he pauses running a hand down his face, “three times.”

neito frowns and mumbles something under his breath, furrowing his brows in frustration at being caught doing such an intimate act with you. he messes with the hem of your shirt, twisting it between his fingers, trying to get his mind off the fact that his father is still staring at the two of you.

his father sighs, “i was coming to tell you that dinner’s ready,” he looks at how your chests are nearly flush against each other, how both of you are in such an odd position to just be making out, “clearly, there are more important things right now.”

“well, yeah,” neito agrees, still not making eye contact with his father.

a few moments go by when neito’s father sighs and looks at both of you, “alright, just come down for dinner soon or it’ll be cold.” he then glances at neito and sternly orders, “don’t do anything stupid.”

but as soon as his father shuts the door, neito’s hands are all over you, and his lips are on yours again. you let out a soft moan as your lips clash together, hand gripping his bicep as you try to control yourself. with him worshipping you like this, you don’t think you’ll ever be willing to pull away.

however, you reluctantly pull away from his lips for a short amount of time before he’s kissing your neck, trying to leave a mark as you whimper, “neito, the food—“

“the food can wait,” he mumbles through his kisses, “all i want is you right now.”

I ABSOLUTELY LOVED WRITING THIS!! and again, i fucking missed the part where u said with the door closed. sorry ☹️ im kind of implying that his father new they must’ve been doing something weird behind the door bc why tf weren’t they answering?? idk.. hope u enjoyed!! tysm for requesting this, im trying to write more for neito so thank u so much for this ask aaa it’s so cute. hope it wasn’t too suggestive again

his fit is indeed inspired by that one scene where he was told to copy kurogiri’s quirk in season 7… i’m sorry i just love it

[pullmecloseman]

Honor & Duty — SUNDRESSES

Honor & Duty chapter — SUNDRESSES

Bob Floyd x reader

summary: What was supposed to be a fun week in paradise quickly becomes something more when two quiet souls are thrown into close quarters. As the days unfold—from lazy mornings and town adventures to wedding prep and late-night confessions—tension simmers, walls begin to crack, and unexpected connections start to bloom.

It’s just one week. But sometimes, that’s all it takes to change everything.

word count: 3.9k

A/N: if you guys would please give me feedback and tell me what you would like to see in future chapters it would mean the world to me!! Sorry it’s so short i didn’t have any good ideas 🥲

join the taglist for this fic!!

MAUI, COFFEE & CHECKLISTS, A TOAST, SUNDRESSES

The faint rustling of linen was the first thing you noticed. The morning light was soft through the sheer curtains, casting quiet shadows that danced along the floor. You blinked slowly, adjusting to the haze of daylight slipping through the window, the memory of last night’s dinner and everything unspoken lingering in your chest like a weight you hadn’t quite learned how to carry.

Across the room, Bob was still asleep. Or at least, he looked like he was. His arm was curled up under his pillow, hair a little messy, lashes casting long shadows across his cheekbone. He looked peaceful like this. Untouched. Real.

Your bed felt cold by comparison. The space between the two of you—the literal, physical space—felt wider than it had the night before. Like you’d both been orbiting around something neither of you wanted to name.

You rolled onto your back slowly, letting your eyes trace the wooden beams of the ceiling, the soft swirl of the ceiling fan overhead. Your heart still hadn’t settled. Maybe it was the way his hand had brushed yours. Maybe it was the silence that stretched too long before he’d pulled away.

Maybe it was the way you didn’t want to look away when he stepped out of the bathroom without a shirt. You blew out a slow breath, rubbing a hand over your eyes. It was too early for this. Too early to be spiraling over something that technically wasn’t even a thing. Not really.

Bob stirred just slightly, one hand twitching as he rolled over, now facing you. He didn’t open his eyes, but you heard him mutter something soft, barely audible. “Morning,” you said quietly, unsure if you were waking him or just acknowledging him. His eyes cracked open, bleary and slow. “What time is it?”

You reached for your phone on the nightstand. “Almost eight.” He grunted softly, stretching until his shirt rode up just a little over his stomach. You looked away. “We don’t have anything till lunch,” he said, voice still thick with sleep. “Exploring town today, right?” “Yeah. Phoenix wanted to hit the boutiques and some coffee place Bradley keeps hyping up.” Bob nodded, rolling onto his back with a sigh. “Gonna be a long day.” There was a quiet pause before you added, “You okay with that?” He turned his head to look at you. “What do you mean?” You shrugged. “Spending all day with the group. Luca. Dress shops. You.” His expression shifted subtly—something unreadable flickering behind his glasses as he sat up slowly. “I’m fine,” he said after a second. “Are you?” You bit your lip. “I think so.”

Bob’s gaze lingered, but he didn’t press. Instead, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, scratching the back of his neck as he padded barefoot across the room to his duffel. You watched him go, taking in the familiar line of his shoulders, the way his movements always felt careful. Controlled. He pulled out a t-shirt and tugged it over his head in one smooth motion. You hated how easily he could settle back into normal, how quickly he masked whatever had been simmering between you both the night before. “Breakfast?” he asked, turning toward you now, blinking away the last of his sleep.

“Yeah,” you said, dragging yourself out of bed. “Let’s go.”

You didn’t talk much as you both got ready. The quiet was companionable, but it carried a weight beneath it. Bob moved around the room with that same quiet efficiency, brushing his teeth, folding the towel he'd used, tucking the corner of the bed in after smoothing out the covers. It was everything you’d come to know about him—how he never left things undone, never let something stay in disarray. You were the one who broke the silence this time.

“I think Phoenix said there’s a farmers market near the town square.” Bob glanced over from where he was tying his sneakers. “With coffee?” You smiled. “Of course with coffee. You think Bradley would survive otherwise?” A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Good point.”

He stood and reached for the key card from the dresser, slipping it into his pocket before glancing at you again. His voice was softer now. “You look nice.” Your heart caught a little off guard. You hadn’t done much—just a light sundress, hair pulled back in a clip, some sunscreen and lip balm. But the way he said it, the quiet honesty of it, sent a flutter down your spine. “Thanks,” you murmured, brushing a loose strand of hair back from your cheek. “You too.” And you meant it. He wore the most basic thing—grey t-shirt, olive shorts, a pair of black sunglasses tucked into the collar—but somehow he still looked like the only calm in a storm. Unassuming, steady. And something about that made it hard to breathe.

When you stepped out of the room and into the sunshine, the rest of the resort was already humming with the soft buzz of activity. Guests were heading toward the beach with towels and woven bags, the scent of morning pastries wafting from the poolside café. You spotted Natasha first. She was at a patio table under one of the massive palm umbrellas, sipping what looked like an iced coffee and scrolling through something on her phone. Jake and Bradley were with her, arguing about what counted as a *real* breakfast.

Bob gave you a look that said, here we go, and you both walked over.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Jake said without even looking up. “Was beginning to think baby-on-board here overslept on purpose.”

“You say that like you weren’t the last one to the beach yesterday,” Bob replied evenly, pulling out a chair. Jake grinned. “That was strategic. I made an entrance.” “More like you were hungover,” Bradley muttered into his coffee. “Allegedly,” Jake said, lifting his cup in salute.

You sat beside Phoenix, who bumped her shoulder against yours in greeting. “Morning, Sweetie.” You narrowed your eyes. “Still calling me that, huh?” “Forever,” she said cheerfully, handing you a spare menu. “Luca’s grabbing breakfast wraps. You’re lucky. I told him your coffee order and everything.” You raised a brow. “Why do I feel like that’s a setup?” “Because it is,” she said sweetly. “Also because you made that face when he called you bambina last night.” Bob looked over at you then, a flicker of something in his gaze. You could tell he was listening, even if he didn’t say anything.

“Phoenix,” you said carefully, “remind me again why you’re not letting me elope with your brother instead?” She smiled, all teeth. “Because I love you and I need you to suffer with me for the rest of the week.” Just then, Luca appeared behind you, balancing a cardboard tray full of iced coffees and foil-wrapped sandwiches. “Buongiorno, ladies,” he said smoothly, setting the tray down with a flourish. “I bring offerings.” “Did you flirt with the barista again?” Natasha asked, unimpressed. “Only a little,” Luca said innocently, handing you your coffee first. “She had a nice smile.” You accepted it with a half-smile of your own, your fingers brushing his. “Thanks. For the coffee.”

“Anything for you,” he said with a grin that was both charming and a little too practiced. From across the table, Bob said nothing, but you didn’t miss the way he unwrapped his sandwich a little too slowly. Or how he kept his eyes focused on his plate for a little too long. You sipped your drink and leaned back in your chair, pretending not to notice. But you felt it—that shift in the air. The way the lightness suddenly felt like it had something heavier underneath it.

The breakfast lasted longer than expected.

At some point, Javy and Mickey joined, dragging Payback with them. The table became a chorus of voices and laughter, stories from deployments being retold with more exaggeration each time, Jake trying to talk his way into a second coffee without getting up, and Natasha pretending to be over all of it while laughing harder than anyone else.

Luca was right at home in the mix. He didn’t know the full depth of your squad’s history, but he was quick with a quip and kept up easily, leaning into the group’s energy. Every so often, you caught him looking at you—just a flicker, a smile, a soft comment about your laugh or the way you rolled your eyes at Jake.

And Bob… was quiet.

Not cold. Just quieter than usual. His hands stayed busy, fingers slowly rolling the edge of his napkin or adjusting his sunglasses, but his gaze drifted too often toward you. Especially when you were talking to Luca. You noticed, even if you didn’t let on. Eventually, Phoenix stood and stretched, declaring, “We are not sitting here all morning. You people promised me town, shaved ice, and some vaguely irresponsible purchases.” Rooster raised his cup. “To vague irresponsibility.” Jake clinked his glass against Bradley’s. “Finally, something we agree on.”

You all stood, gathering your things and splitting the check. The resort had shuttles available, but the walk into town was only about fifteen minutes and the group decided unanimously that they’d rather take the long way. It was warm, but not oppressive. A breeze moved through the trees, the scent of hibiscus and salt lingering in the air as the group made their way down the coastal path into the main stretch of shops and markets.nBob walked beside you, close enough that your arms almost brushed. “You’ve been quiet,” you said, not looking at him. He hesitated, then offered a faint smile. “Just taking it in.” “Taking in Luca calling me bella ragazza every five minutes?”

His jaw flexed almost imperceptibly, but he kept his eyes on the road ahead. “It’s not my business.” That stung more than it should have. You didn’t respond. Instead, you stepped ahead to catch up with Phoenix and Mickey, letting the space between you and Bob stretch just slightly wider.

Town was lively. Wednesday meant fresh produce stalls, woven baskets, local jewelry, and shops selling breezy dresses on spinning racks out front. Bradley made a beeline for a fruit stand and somehow ended up with an entire bag of mangoes. Coyote was arguing over the quality of pineapples with the vendor. Payback had disappeared with Jake in search of fresh malasadas.

You and Natasha drifted toward one of the boutiques near the end of the street. It was small and airy, filled with island light and racks of sundresses, linen jumpsuits, and swimsuit coverups. You were both browsing idly when she held up a hanger.

“Oh,” she said, eyes lighting up. “You have to try this.” You looked up. It was a pale blue halter-style dress, short, with a soft ruffled hem and a neckline that dipped just enough to toe the line between flirty and a little too much. You raised an eyebrow. “That would barely pass Navy dress code.” “Exactly,” Natasha said, already pulling you toward the changing rooms. “I’m not going to wear it to the wedding.” “No, but maybe to the bachelorette.” You laughed, but took it. “You’re evil.” She winked. “Try it on and meet me in front.”

You slipped into the changing room and, to your surprise, the dress fit like it had been made for you. It clung in the right places, light and soft, the skirt brushing the top of your thighs. You stared at yourself in the mirror a little longer than necessary, smoothing it down before stepping outside. Natasha was already out there in a sleek green number, but when she saw you, she let out a low whistle. “Okay, Sweetie,” she said. “Look at you.” You laughed under your breath, but then you heard another voice.

“Damn.”

You turned to find Luca leaning in the shop doorway, arms folded across his chest, a grin spreading wide across his face. “That’s dangerous,” he said. You raised an eyebrow. “You’re not supposed to be spying on the changing rooms, perv.” “I wasn’t spying. Just passing by,” he said innocently. “But I’m glad I did.” His eyes scanned the dress slowly, then flicked up to yours. “You’re going to break a few hearts wearing that.” You gave him a look that was supposed to be disapproving but probably wasn’t very convincing. “Careful. You’re treading dangerously close to full cheeseball.”

He leaned just a bit closer. “You like cheese. Admit it.” You were about to reply when a second voice cut in. “Hey.” Bob. His tone was light, casual. But there was a tightness in his eyes when he saw you. His gaze dropped to the dress, and for a second, he didn’t say anything else. Just took you in. You felt it—his breath catching, the way his hand fidgeted near his pocket. “Oh,” you said, suddenly very aware of the hemline. “It’s not for the wedding or anything. Natasha made me try it.” Bob’s eyes met yours again, and something flickered there. “It looks good.” You smiled, unsure. “Yeah?” “Yeah,” he said simply. Luca clapped a hand on Bob’s shoulder with a little too much enthusiasm. “You agree, then. She’s going to cause trouble in that.” Bob’s smile tightened. “She always causes trouble.”

You wanted to say something. To laugh it off. But there was something about the way Bob looked at you—like he was trying to stay neutral and failing—that made your pulse quicken. You glanced down at the dress again, then at Natasha. “I’m buying it.” Nat smirked. “Damn right you are.”

The afternoon sun dipped lower, softening the edges of the town as the Dagger Squad regrouped near the shuttle. Bags in hand, some souvenirs poking out, the earlier easy laughter had settled into a comfortable quiet, punctuated by playful nudges and half-smiles. Jake stretched, cracking his knuckles. “Alright, enough shopping for one day. Who’s up for a quick beach break before dinner?” Mickey grinned. “I’m game. Maybe Rooster can finally school Hangman in volleyball.”

Rooster rolled his eyes but smiled. “We’ll see.” You stood close to Bob, whose usual steady presence felt more taut today, especially whenever Luca was nearby. Luca’s teasing smirk hadn’t faded since earlier, and you caught him giving you a knowing look that made Bob’s jaw clench subtly.

Luca caught your eye and shot a quick wink. “Still rocking that short dress, huh? Not many can pull that off like you.” You smiled, a flicker of warmth toward him despite the tension. “Yeah, it’s definitely a crowd-pleaser.” Bob’s eyes flicked to you sharply, then to Luca, the silent charge between them unmistakable. He folded his arms, quiet but taut, the undercurrent of protectiveness settling in his posture.

Phoenix stepped in smoothly, breaking the moment. “Sun’s setting. Let’s move before we miss dinner. I want to hear all the shopping war stories.”

The group started toward the shuttle, voices rising in light chatter and laughter again, but you caught Bob’s lingering glance, full of things unsaid. Luca’s easy smile in response felt like a challenge — playful on the surface, but loaded underneath. The day had shifted something between you all, and you knew the calm was just the quiet before the storm.

taglist: @yagurlannastasia , @funkyfable

[soelstress]

Ice And Easy

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Summary: Bucky is not a fan of cold things. Let’s see if we can change his mind…

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI , nsfw , oral sex (m receiving) , ice play , Bucky being hot stuff (menace!)

Word count: 3.1k

A/N - Hello lovelies! My offering for Tasty Tuesday… though I think today should be Toasty Tuesday 🥵 Hope you’re all keeping cool and hydrated! I wrote this early last year after inspiration struck. It’s a bit long winded so I apologise… but I hope you enjoy. Not sure if it’ll cool you down or heat you up 😅

A big big thank you to the beautiful @sunday-bug for listening to my rambling and telling me this isn’t total nonsense.

Dividers by the amazing @firefly-graphics

The pic is sourced from google.

Do not Steal, Copy or Plagiarize any part of my work

Bucky hated the cold. Honestly, could you blame him? After his fall from the train in the Austrian Alps he spent an unknown amount of time in the frigid temperatures before Hydra found him. At first the main source of discomfort came from his injured left arm. But exposure to the brutal conditions soon meant every part of him was aching in pain from the biting iciness. Not to mention the countless decades of Hydra subjecting him to cryo storage between missions as the Winter Soldier. The agony caused by the cold was a memory he dreaded and would soon rather forget. Though the Super Soldier Serum running through his veins ensured his temperature ran warmer than the average person he took every precaution to reduce any chance of the slightest chill invading his body.

Bucky baulked at the thought of the winter weather but ventured out with you knowing you loved to take pictures and make memories while walking through snow. When he bundled you both in more layers than necessary you sighed but took his thickly mittened hand in your own now deformed hand through two pairs of gloves. A wink had to suffice for communication as only your eyes were visible between a hat, two scarves and a high neck padded coat. You were very understanding of your boyfriend's hatred of the cold and therefore patiently endured most of his measures. However there were some actions that you did protest.

During the summer Bucky was not a fan of air conditioning. He didn’t like going to bed warm and waking up cold so refused to have it on most of the time. This dilemma was solved by investing in a mattress and bedding with cooling properties. You also invested in a cooling gel pad for your pillow. Bucky grumbled about this but stopped when he realised it would help both of you sleep better.

The air con argument was resurrected during an intense heatwave. It came to a peak after two restless nights of tossing and turning. You loved Bucky but the man was a goddamn furnace and it was too hot to even blink near each other let alone share a bed. First you said that the air con was necessary to lower the temperature if he wanted to sleep in the same bed. Bucky argued that he could just stay to his side of the bed, an argument you refuted by saying even the highest mountain of pillows couldn’t keep him from cuddling you. Finally you threatened to sleep alone elsewhere because you weren’t going to suffer heat stroke from sultry Sergeant Snuggles. Mumbles conceding his defeat filled the air though his trademark scowl was ruined by his mouth twitching at the name you’d given him.

Despite all this there had been one time so far in your relationship where Bucky had actually seemed to enjoy the cold.

When the two of you first started dating he had confided that he loved space and had a desire to see the Northern Lights. Knowing the location and not wanting the cold to negatively impact what should be an amazing experience, the topic was discussed thoroughly. You surprised him with a trip to spend Valentine's Day in Norway. Excited to see the famous phenomenon Bucky had braved the cold with remarkable tolerance. You were nervous and desperately hoped that the Lights would override any thought of the cold. And at the top of a mountain in Norway your wish came true. The colours danced across the black sky reflected in Bucky’s awestruck eyes with any thoughts of the cold banished.

Later back at the lodge you were both settling in for bed when the beautiful lights appeared in the sky again. You quickly threw on a coat and boots over your flannel pajamas, grabbed a gadget that Tony had given you for this trip and dashed outside. Pressing record you watched the kaleidoscope of colours shimmering. When Bucky pulled you into his toasty embrace you surrendered to the beauty of the moment. After a few minutes he gently tugged you back inside. His cheeks and nose were slightly flushed from the cold, blue eyes warm and sparkling as he thanked you for an unforgettable experience.

Your lips met soft and sweet at first but his kiss turned hungry and you found yourself reciprocating eagerly. His hands clutched your hips bringing you closer so you could feel his cock between your bodies. Without thinking you reached under the waistband of his pajamas for the silky flesh which was scorching to the touch. A shudder ran through him and you suddenly realised why he felt so hot. Your hands were cold. He caught your hand as you pulled out from the material. His body trembled slightly as he started to guide your hand back to its prior position.

“Bucky, my hands are cold.”

“Do you hear me complaining?” His dark eyes never left yours, blazing with desire as he answered your gentle protest. “Well then, let me warm them up baby.”

At the deep rumble you allowed him to place your hand back on his blazing flesh. Within no time your hands were warm and Bucky was sweating with pleasure. He definitely didn’t complain though there was a lot of moaning from both of you.

A few weeks later in your shared New York apartment you were reminiscing about his reaction to your cold hands. Your mind wandered, thinking about what else he may enjoy when an idea came to mind.

That afternoon you knelt on your bed wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of his boxers. Bucky sat with his shirtless back to you. Your fingers worshipped and manipulated the muscles of his torso. There were odd moans of appreciation as he relaxed under your ministrations. After a while your digits glided up his neck to his scalp. Bucky purred as you gently tugged his hair and scratched along his scalp. He loved when you played with his hair.

Leaning forward your lips brushed his ear. “I want to try something baby.” Warm blue eyes met yours as he turned his head. “Just one try and if you don’t like it we can do something else or stop entirely.” He nodded with a small smile gracing his lips. “Do you want me to tell you what I have in mind?”

Shaking his head he brushed his nose along yours. “I trust you baby.”

The four words flooded you with love and longing. He trusted you so much… he trusted you…

Suddenly you were overwhelmed with the doubts and worries you’d been battling since you had this idea. What if he was uncomfortable? What if he hated it but only carried on for your sake? What if he hated it - hated you for trying to push him into something?

His hands cupped your face and caused your focus to return to him. “Breathe, toots. It’s ok.” He took a few deep breaths to lead you and relaxed when you did. “I don’t know what you have in mind and I don’t want you to tell me. But I do know you’d never hurt me on purpose. I trust you. I love you.”

Straddling his lap you pressed lingering kisses to his forehead, his nose, on the apple of each cheek. Your fingers danced through his short dark hair and pulled so his head tilted back with his throat exposed. He moaned and squirmed slightly under you. Prickly stubble tickled as you kissed along one side of his jawline before nipping his chin and working your way up the other side. When you pulled back his eyes had darkened with desire.

“I need to get something baby. Can you lay back and close your eyes for me?”

Without question he did so. Carefully climbing off his lap you made your way through to the kitchen. The tray you’d prepared and hidden earlier was ready. Quietly opening the freezer you took out the paper plate with crushed ice on before adding it to the tray. Walking back into the bedroom you took a moment to observe Bucky. Though his hands flexed restlessly by his side his eyes were still closed. As you approached his breathing rate increased. At the sight of the obvious tent in his gray sweats your mouth watered. After setting the tray down on your bedside table you reached for an eye mask and two ribbons.

“We’re gonna use the traffic light system honey. You know the colours?”

“Yes baby.”

“And what’s your safe word?”

“Brooklyn.”

Happy with his answers you decided to proceed. Neither of you had ever used any colour except green and never had to use your safe words but you were aware this could very well change. Bucky said he didn’t want to know the details of what you were going to do but just for reassurance you offered a small tidbit.

“For this first part I want to restrain your hands and blindfold you. Ok?”

He murmured his assent and lifted his head when he felt the eye mask being placed over his eyes. Cautiously you looped the ribbon around one wrist and moved his arm so it rested on the pillow above his head before tying the ribbon to the bed frame. You did the same with his other wrist. Bucky could rip them off with laughable ease but you wanted the ability to remove them quickly so a pair of scissors was placed within easy reach. Straddling his waist again you reached for a plastic cup filled with Old Fashioned and took a small sip. The alcohol warmed you instantly. Tracing his lips with your tongue you dipped inside when he granted you entry. Leaning back you took a small mouthful of the drink and kissed him while carefully pouring the liquid into his mouth. At the taste of his favourite cocktail he hummed. The alcohol didn’t affect him but he loved the taste. You fed him one more mouthful before moving.

Placing your hands on either side of his head you leant down. Breathing softly so he could feel the small puffs of cool air you gently licked the shell of his left ear before taking the lobe into your mouth and sucked before nipping it. Bucky wriggled beneath you. You kissed, licked, nipped and sucked a trail down his neck and bit gently into the crook. Moving down the centre of his chest you focused on the surrounding area of his right nipple. As your tongue swirled around it peaked before you licked it. Taking it in your mouth you suckled and used one hand to toy with the neglected nipple. Bucky squirmed under you while moaning softly. Your tongue traced over the soft lines of his abs laving a wet path down over the ridges through the smattering of hair that formed his happy trail before reaching his navel. Nipped the taut flesh in a few places you heard him curse and soothed the bites with kisses while smirking.

Reaching the waistband of his sweats you slowly peeled them down and was thrilled to find he wasn’t wearing underwear. When pushed down far enough Bucky kicked them off. His cock was released and slapped onto his navel. Your nails scratched down his thick thighs which tensed under your touch. Carefully settling between his legs you placed open mouth kisses all over his smooth velvety balls. Bucky jerked as his hips thrusted up. You smiled as your tongue ran up the length of his shaft while avoiding the tip. Hips thrusting up again he whined. You gave it the softest lick, loving the taste of his precum in your mouth.

“Baby you taste so good.”

At the praise his cock twitched almost pleadingly. Shifting you slowly climbed back up his body and took care to avoid your skin touching his. Leaning over his torso you reached for the scissors.

“I’m going to untie you for this next part and uncover your eyes. You can touch me or open your eyes if you want to.”

After carefully cutting his wrists free and checking there were no marks left behind you removed the eye mask but Bucky kept his eyes closed. At the sight you couldn’t help smiling. Bucky was never one to back down from a challenge. Once again you reached for the cup of Old Fashioned and fed Bucky another two mouthfuls which caused him to moan in delight and smile. At his sounds of pleasure once again nerves plagued your mind.

“Sweetheart?”

Shit. Of course his Super Soldier hearing would detect the seemingly deafening drumbeat of your heart.

Inhaling deeply you took a moment to try and ground yourself. “Remind me once more of your safe word baby.”

A frown marred his brow, forehead puckered in confusion. “Brooklyn.”

Still his eyes remain closed. Desperate you took one sip of the cocktail and felt the warmth of the alcohol burn your veins. Calm settled over you as Bucky’s hands ghosted down to gently squeeze your thighs once before resting them behind his head. Reaching for a small ice shard on the plate you rested it on your tongue so Bucky couldn’t hear it against your teeth as it melted.

This time you moved to his right ear and slowly licked it before moving to the lobe to suck and nibble as before pausing when he shivered slightly at the cold touch. He made no sound or other reaction so you reached for another shard continuing the teasing trail down his neck with chilled lips. He moaned softly and squirmed.

“Colour baby?”

“Green.” Bucky gripped his pillow with his eyes closed and panting heavily.

Grabbing another two pieces of ice, your lips trailed down his chest to his left nipple. Carefully you grazed the ice shards over both nipples which hardened immediately. Putting one piece in your mouth you continued to brush the other over his right nipple while you sucked the left into your chilled mouth. He inhaled with a sharp hiss as his hands fisted in the bedsheets. Apart from the reassuring squeeze he hadn’t touched you or opened his eyes yet. You took your time kissing down his chest and past his navel, your mouth and tongue warming as you go.

Delicately you used one hand to cup and massage his balls and the other to pop another piece of ice in your mouth. Leaning down you took one ball into your mouth. Bucky cried out but didn't say a colour or his safeword. Opening your mouth wide you sucked his other ball in your mouth and trapped the remaining ice piece between your tongue and his sac. As you flexed your tongue the cold was washed over the delicate flesh. Bucky’s hips shifted as he groaned loudly. Letting his sac slip from your mouth you now reached for another cup and took a small mouthful of water which you held as you took hold of his cock. Slowly you slipped the head inside your mouth and felt his cock twitch when it touched the cold liquid.

“Oh fuck!” Bucky's body jolted and his eyes flew open.

With a grin you took him further into your mouth before swallowing carefully and sliding your cold tongue along his cock.

“Baby.” Your answering hum to his pleading whine had him writhing. Slowly dragging back you pulled off with a pop.

“Colour, Sarge?”

“Green. Green. Fuckin’ green.” Glancing up you saw his eyes were melted glaciers among the flush of his cheeks. “Don’t stop.”

His chest rose and fell rapidly as you slowly took a larger mouthful of liquid before plunging your mouth over his cock and taking him to the back of your throat. Bucky swore loudly at the sensation of his cock in your cold mouth ending in the tightness of your throat. Keeping your gaze locked on him you swallowed and moaned. Lost in the pleasure he began to thrust his hips slowly before beginning to fuck your mouth.

“Goddamn babydoll… your mouth feels fuckin’ amazing… I’m gonna come so hard if you keep doing that.”

Desire pooled in your belly at his words and you shifted slightly before you could stop yourself.

“Want me to come for you angel?” When you tried to nod he chuckled. “Use your words honey. What do you want?”

Dragging your tongue along the shaft as you slowly pulled back, your hand continued the torturous pace.

“I wanna taste you, Bucky. Please… I want you to come in my mouth.”

Growling he used one elbow to prop himself up while his other hand cupped your jaw.

“Keep going then baby.” But before you could move to do so he held your face still. “Use the ice” he murmured with a small smile.

Heart swelling you nodded and grabbed another piece of ice. Slipping his length back in your mouth along with the ice you bobbed your head up and down. One hand massaged his sac while the other pumped the base of his length in time with your mouth. His thighs tensed. He was close. You doubled your efforts growing more enthusiastic at the growls and grunts spilling from his mouth.

“Jesus… so close honey… I’m gonna come” he rasped.

The hand cupping your jaw moved to your hair before grabbing it and tugging gently. A whimper escaped your lips and his eyes flashed to yours. You whined again giving a firm suck while running your ice cold tongue against his tip.

“FUCK!”

His hand held you in place as he fucked your mouth, his spend coating your tongue and spilling from your lips. With a final twitch of his cock he sprawled on the bed. Cupping his softening dick you tenderly licked him clean being mindful of the sensitive tip. You licked your lips and sat back on your heels watching Bucky try to catch his breath. When Bucky made grabby hands you went willingly into his embrace where he tugged you onto his chest. He dotted kisses all over your face before placing a tender kiss to your lips. You released a sigh of relief that Bucky seemed to have enjoyed the experience… all the while being unaware he was thinking how to repay the favour.

[hazel-tanthamore22]

Love Language

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Hong Eunchae x Baemon8thmember!fem reader

Warnings: Jealousy Cuddling, lots of kissing, protective Ssamkura.

Sypnosis: Fearnots, and basically everyone in the industry, knew Eunchae didn't exactly love physical touch. So why is her love language towards you skinship?

Appearing on Eunchae's star diary wasn't for the weak, mostly because if you were older than her, you wouldn't hear the end of it, but for you, it was the lingering glances when your member was talking and the unnecessary touches.

"Let's introduce today's guests" Eunchae's voice beams from inside the room as the director opens the door and you step in with Ruka behind you. "Babymonster's oldest duo, Kawai Ruka and Y/N" She claps as she stands up and bows.

You and Ruka reciprocate the bow as all three of you sit down, you sit on the side closest to Eunchae. She starts by asking Ruka a question on being the oldest-blah blah blah- you aren't really listening until she places her hand on your shoulder to snap you out of your thoughts.

"Y/N-ssi, how does it feel to finally be in the 20's" She asks, you 20th birthday hadn't been too long ago, and Eunchae always teases you about being the younger in the relationship, knowing damn well if you say something about her being old you'll receive the cold shoulder for God knows how long.

"It feels normal I guess, there isn't really much change, except now I can do more mature concepts more comfortably" You say, as her hand rubs up and down from your shoulder to elbow then back up. You don't ignore it, of course you can't that's your girlfriend, but you don't address it verbally for obvious reason, just giving her a small glance makes her draw her hand away, the corners of her mouth twitching slightly as if holding back a smirk.

Ruka catches on to what's happening and elbow you in the side which causes you to side eye her and slap her leg. She laughs before Eunchae interrupts you and Ruka's interaction with another question directed towards Ruka.

You look at Ruka as she answers the question, but feel eyes burning into the side of your head, which makes you turn your head slightly to be met with Eunchae starring daggers into you.

After about 9 more grueling minutes of answering questions and Eunchae making you feel like a pebble under her glare, the recording for Eunchae's star diary concludes and you're finally able to breathe without the weight of the cameras, but it that feeling is short lived as Eunchae grabs you and drags you to a more private room.

"What was all that about?" She asks, staring you down as she traps you against the door, her hand next to your head. "What was what about?" You ask, a bit startled and very confused. "The whole damn thing with Ruka, putting your hand on her leg? Giving her all the attention in the world like she's your girlfreind" She grumbles, her face inching closer to yours.

"Love it was noth-" She cuts you off with a kiss, her right hand hooking around your waist and pulling you closer to her. The kiss gets deeper, more aggressive as her tongue finds it's way into your mouth.

"Eunch-" You try to break the kiss but she pulls you back into the kiss, the only thing that stops her is a knock on the door and two voices, one which sounds like Ruka and the other like Sakura. She pulls away and gives a one last lingering look before letting go of you and fixing her lipstick.

You also fix your smugged lipstick right before Eunchae opens the door to her group and the eldest of your group standing there. "Is there a problem?" Eunchae asks the older women. "We have to get back to the dorms, c'mon" Chaewon says to an annoyed looking Eunchae. "You too, let's go" Ruka snaps her fingers towards you and you go to leave but Eunchae blocks the door way.

"Can she come back to the dorms with us, please" Eunchae asks the two eldest members who look at her like she's crazy. "Please, nothings gonna happen" She whines, looking at Yunjin with a "help me out" look.

"Can't she just come over Chaewon unnie, the kids aren't gonna do anything" Yunjin tries to coax the eldest two. "We aren't kids" You and Eunchae say in unison, the others looking at you, who has unceremoniously pulled Eunchae out of tge doorway.

Chaewon exhales through her nose before before sighing "Fine, if it's ok with Ruka-chan" Chaewon says while glancing at your older member who shrugs and responds "Fine by me, just be back at the dorms before nightfall and if you're staying over at theirs, call me or Rita to tell us ok?" You nod as Ruka states the condition of your stay at the fim-dorm.

You depart with the fimmies in their van, Chaewon who usually sits in the front is now in the back, lodged between you and Eunchae, who looks like she's about to kill her leader. "Is it necessary for you to be back here" Eunchae grumbles, glaring at her leader before looking at the windows.

"Yes, unless you don't want your little girlfriend here at all?" Chaewon mocks, giving Eunchae an ultimatum that makes her shut up.

The drive is quiet except for occasional huffs from Eunchae, tge older still not content with being apart from you even if it's just for a few minutes. When you've all arrived at the dorm, Chaewon gives you and Eunchae some space until you're all in the main dorm.

"If you're going to be in Eunchaes room, keep the door unlocked and no shenanigans" Sakura says before going into her own room. Eunchae practically drags you to her room, only allowing you to remove your shoes before tackling you onto the bed and pulling you close to her.

She uses her fingers to trace your facial features before speaking softly "You and Ruka" She starts before you cut her off "I'm your girlfriend, nor hers, I'd never do that to you, you should know I wont" You say in a low voice, almost a whisper, which makes her smile and pull you in for a kiss, this time more gentle and tame.

The moment is cut short by both of your phones buzzing uncontrollably. You break away from the kiss, picking up your phone first to see you and Eunchae tagged in multiple articles about the events of Eunchae's star diary. Questions ranging from "Is something going on between Le sserafim's maknae and Baby monsters second oldest?" To fans making statements like "I knew they were together just look at these pictures" which are photos from one of your past meetings and shopping sprees where you both had masks and caps on.

The comments just keep coming. "I thought Eunchae hated skinship, why is she always holding hands with her or hugging her of all people" After that comment you put your phone away, to be met with Eunchae who's also putting her phone down.

"The others are gonna kill us aren't they" You sigh in reference to ssamkura and Eunchae just shrugs it off. "Most likely, but let's just enjoy each other's company for now" She says before puling you closer and cuddling you, later you both falling asleep.

A/N: Ending and maybe the whole thing was rushed😭 Had this in my drafts for mad long so I js decided to feed yall.

[ransomwrite]

Haiii!! If you have the time, and want to, would you be willing to write a Mitchell fic? Or an anything… with Parker !! I adore your writing btw :3

A Balanced Meal

Mitchell Linn x Reader

Summary: You haven't had a meal for far too long, so Mitchell makes you a proper one.

A/N: Thank you for the compliment!!! Sorry if this may seem a bit rushed?? I didn't have much time to proof read this one chat :P

✧.*✎~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~✎*.✧

The sun shines through the windows, the cat clock blinks and blares to indicate that it was time to start the day. You took your sweet time lying down on that bed before getting up and doing your daily routine.

You start the day by using the bathroom, touching up your face and hair, then put on the Dateviators.

Penelope reminds you of what needs to be done today, Dorian and Skylar tells you if there's anything happening around the house.

Suddenly, your stomach lets out an embarrassing growl that gives a reminder that you haven't eaten breakfast yet.

“Hey, Cool kid! How are you?” Freddy grins as you make your way towards him. “You didn't come around the kitchen much yesterday.”

“Well I was busy. Talked to Doug which took an hour, then played with Chance, Parker and Lux. Not the dream team to play with.” You ramble on, looking through the contents of your fridge.

After a long, eventful rummaging through Freddy, you grab some leftovers of a cold, lone pizza.

“You sure you wanna eat just that?” Freddy blinks at the cold food on a plate.

“I’m in a hurry, I'll just eat this cold.” You shrug him off and turn around.

“What do you think you're doing?” Mitchell's voice pops out of nowhere, causing you to jump back and almost drop the plate.

You gave a sheepish grin towards Mitchell. “Hey, just getting a snack.”

“For breakfast?” He gasps, taking the plate away from you and giving it back to Freddy. “No no no! Mon cheri, you only deserve the finest cuisines to sate your hunger!”

With no room for argument, Mitchell plops you down on a chair and sprints around the kitchen to find some nutritional things for you to eat.

“Aw, no need to do all this, Mitchell.” You try to assure him, but he is quick to stand beside you and go through his notes.

“Yesterday, you ate half of a leftover donut and a pack of m&m’s.” He sounded disappointed before flipping through once more. “The day before, you ate two nuts and drank a gallon of milk!”

“At least the pizza a while ago had some greens.” You try to retort.

“I think that may be mold, mon ami…” He sighs, putting a meal in front of you.

There was grilled salmon, a salad, mushroom soup and a blended fruit shake.

“Didn't even know we had any of these.”

“That's because you never cook for yourself.” He scolds

You don't argue with him, not remembering the last time you had a full balanced meal at your own home.

“I had to ask Daisuke, Stefan and Freddy to make these. They were all more than happy to oblige.” With that, you take a fork and slowly dig into the food.

A small hum escapes as you feel satisfied and suddenly grow hungrier by the taste. Mitchell smiles as he sees you finish most of the food.

“This is what I've been missing out on?” You ask with a mouth full of food, though a bit disgusted, the other couldn't help but chuckle. “You should try some!” You slide a plate of the fish towards him.

The two of you catch up while eating the food, before you rise up from your seat with a feeling of satisfaction.

“It’s been so long since we've got together to try food.” Mitchell wipes his mouth with a tissue and turns back to you. “Perhaps we can one day try reviewing restaurants again?”

“I'd love that.” You grin towards him. “How about tomorrow?”

Mitchell returns your smile and plants a kiss on your cheek. “Then it's a date, mon cheri.”

[mrs-dot-kennedy]

Omgggg I LOVE YOUR SERIES OF HENRY AND HIS DAUGHTER AND WIFE! ITS SOOOOO GOOD I could read it 24/7 could we get something about Henry x pregnant Reader? Yk seeing a bit of how it was the pregnancy time? Like just something domestical like going out to shop baby clothes or things for the nursery? I know Henry must be really really protective like that

Looooove your writing✨

I am so sorry it’s taken me so long to respond to you, thank you for sending me such a sweet ask! My new mantra is post now, edit later lol

The house creaks when the wind shifts. It’s the kind of sound you wouldn’t have noticed before—just wood settling, old beams stretching in the cold—but now it seems to follow you from room to room, as if the house itself is aware that something is coming. Or someone. Six months in your belly now, and still you can’t quite believe there’s a person growing inside you. Henry never says that out loud, but you know he feels it too. There’s a look he gets sometimes when he thinks you’re asleep—quiet awe edged with uncertainty.

You sit in the nursery, the half-finished room with pale pink walls and honey-colored floors, wrapped in your cardigan and knitting the fourth or fifth failed attempt at a baby blanket. The rocking chair sighs under you with every motion. Your hands move slowly, clumsily—never quite in rhythm—but it helps, having something to do. Henry won’t let you do anything else.

He’s kneeling in the middle of the room, surrounded by pieces of what will soon become a crib. Francis gifted it to you—some absurdly expensive designer thing that arrived in a crate the size of a small coffin. Henry refused to let anyone assemble it. Not the deliverymen, not a handyman, not Richard when he visited (who offered with a rare kind of good humor before Henry shut it down with a single look).

“If the child is going to sleep in it,” he said, screwing in the base with exacting precision, “I’ll be the one to build it.”

And that was that.

The nursery itself was remodeled by a designer Margaret recommended—Henry’s mother, who offered to oversee the work before you’d even asked. She paid for it quietly, without fuss, in that effortless way she handled most things: deliberate, elegant, generous. Her taste leaned traditional—pastel colors, carved moldings, a faint nod to English country houses—and though it wasn’t what you might have chosen on your own, at least everything else is yours and Henry’s. You picked the wooden toys. The hand-painted mobile. The shelf of old children books. He hand-sanded the rocking horse over two weekends, and you caught him reading safety standards at midnight once, eyes narrowed like he was preparing to dismantle the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission out of spite.

You glance up at him now.

He’s on the floor, sleeves rolled, shoulders tense. The light from the windows casts thin gold bars across his back. His hair has fallen over his forehead again, and his glasses are slipping down his nose, but he hasn’t noticed.

“You don’t have to do it all today,” you say softly.

Henry doesn’t look up. “It has to be level. If the base is wrong, the entire thing will wobble.”

“No child in the world will care if it wobbles.”

“I’ll care,” he says.

There’s no sharpness in it. Just certainty.

You smile faintly and go back to your knitting. The yarn is soft and warm in your fingers, and even though you’ve unraveled it twice already, you think you might be starting to get the rhythm right. Henry clears his throat after a long moment.

“That chair isn’t good for your back,” he murmurs.

“You picked it.”

“Yes. Before I realized you’d sit in it every day like a Victorian ghost.”

You laugh—quiet, tired, fond.

“If I am a ghost, it’s because you keep sending me away from anything interesting.”

“Because you’re six months pregnant and your center of gravity has moved four inches forward,” he says without missing a beat. “Do you remember what happened last week when you tried to reach the upper cabinet?”

You frown. “That jar was precariously placed.”

“You almost fell off a stool.”

“You caught me.”

“Yes, and my heart stopped for eight full seconds.”

You hear him sigh. A quiet, controlled thing. He sets down the piece he’s been working on and finally turns to face you.

“I know you’re not helpless,” he says. “But this… it matters. Every piece. Every inch. I want it to be right.”

“It will be,” you say. “It already is.”

You look at him.

Not the famous Henry Winter of whispered Hampden stories and things-that-never-quite-got-said. Not the man people still call brilliant, or cold, or dangerous, depending on who’s telling the story.

But the man who moved to a quiet farmhouse in Vermont. Who chops firewood with near-sacred precision, then arranges it into neat, geometric stacks by the side porch. Who brews decaf tea every night at exactly 8 p.m. and brings it to you without asking, without fanfare—just the quiet presence of someone learning, deliberately, how to be gentle.

The man who folds your cardigan over the back of the rocking chair when you forget. Who measures crib screws with calipers. Who keeps two fingers pressed lightly to your wrist in the middle of the night, just to feel your heartbeat.

That’s the man kneeling before you now.

At first, he doesn’t say anything. He just looks at you, like he’s trying to memorize this version of you—six months pregnant, worn but glowing, your hands clumsy from knitting and tiredness. You see it in his eyes: the quiet disbelief that this is happening, that it’s real, that it’s his.

He crosses the room.

Not in a rush, not in urgency, just a kind of quiet gravity pulling him toward you.

Then he kneels.

Not dramatically or like someone asking for anything. He just sinks down, precise and silent, until he’s in front of you. He places his hands on your knees, fingers splayed, not gripping—grounding. And then he rests his forehead gently against your belly.

Just like that.

It steals the air from your chest.

His breath is warm through the fabric of your dress. His palms rest so lightly on you, like he’s afraid of pressing too hard. You feel him—all of him—in that stillness: the tension in his spine, the steady exhale through his nose, the almost imperceptible tremor of someone unmoored by reverence.

He stays there for a long moment. As if he’s listening. As if he’s confessing something without words.

You reach down.

Thread your fingers through his hair.

It’s soft, slightly damp from sweat for he’s been building the crib and refused to open a window. His locks are unruly near the crown—he’ll complain about it later—and your fingers slide through them with a kind of adoration that mirrors his own.

You don’t say anything.

Because neither of you needs to.

Because this—this quiet, vulnerable moment, unspoken and unguarded—is something Henry offers rarely, and never lightly. It’s as close to a love letter as he knows how to give.

He closes his eyes.

The rocking chair creaks again beneath you.

Outside, the wind rattles the bare trees. But the house is warm, and the light is golden, and Henry Winter has just handed you a glimpse of something so private and true it almost hurts to look at.

[supertrxshwrites]

Heyyy could u write a small deadpool x reader ficlet? Maybe him being insecure and the reader being soft towards him despite his attempts to cover up with jokes

I think it'd be cute ><

Also plz tag me if u do post it! @cactus-stories <3

Touch Tank

Pairing: Wade Wilson x reader

(I hope you like and I hope you’re staying cool this summer :3 )

It had been one of the hottest days of the summer. You could feel your shirt sticking to your back as sweat dripped down your spine. The AC had been out for a while which wouldn’t be an issue if it had been cooler out like it had been the last few nights but unfortunately that wasn’t the case.

You grabbed some ice from the freezer for your water as you stood in front of the fridge with both doors open to get some kind of relief. After a while you closed it and that’s when you heard the door to your apartment unlock and the crimson clad doofus known as Deadpool walked in, but he wasn’t his usual goofy self he seemed very irritable.

“HOLYSHIT it’s so fucking hot I can’t wear this bullshit today”

he yells throwing his duffle down and disarming all his weapons onto the couch and coffee table. Each item making a soft clank as it hit the glass of the table.

“Well hello to you too, Wade” you said handing him the water you were going to take a sip of before he arrived.

You couldn’t blame him for being a bit agro. I mean wearing a full body suit carrying heavy ass weapons all day would piss you off too.

“Wade why don’t you go take a cold shower and change into some shorts or something” you said with a smile as he lifted his mask up just a bit so he could drink.

“Uh maybe I should just carry less, right-“ you detected a bit of stress in his voice. This wouldn’t be the first time Wade had tried to dance around being out of the suit when around you, but you couldn’t seem to understand why. You knew what had happened to him all those years ago and you had seen him out of it before even if it was a rare sight.

“Wade, it’s okay “ you said reassuringly as you caressed his face through the mask.

He nodded softly.

“Plus it’s too fucking hot for all of this” you said gesturing to the crimson suit.

“You’re right It’s hotter than balls out here, huge, sweaty balls!” He said as he made his way to the bathroom. As you waited you plopped down onto the cool leather couch knowing you’d regret it when you’d have to peel yourself from it later.

After a while Wade emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam with a towel wrapped around his waist sans-mask.

You couldn’t help but smile when he walked over to you after pulling on a shirt and some boxers.

“What’s the smile for? I know I know I look like a naked mole rat had sex with a burn victim” he said with a laugh

“N-no Wade I’m just happy that you’re comfortable enough to just be you around me” you said looking up at him from the couch

“Oh..” he said, there was a moment of silence as you grabbed his hand rubbing it with your thumb as you pulled him onto the couch

“Woah BONER ALERT!” He said with a laugh

“WADE-“

“I’m kidding I’m kidding..maybe” he laughed as he leaned back to stare at you. You did the same and he raised a hand to tuck some hair behind your ear.

“Thank you y/n.” He said as a whisper

“For what?” You said as you leaned closer with a smirk.

“For accepting me as this” he gestured to himself

“And this” he said pointing to the collection of weapons on the table in front of you.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” You said as you gently kissed his cheek, before you could pull away he grabs your face softly and lands a soft kiss on your lips. It’s was sweet and minty with a hint of leather, you felt goosebumps rise on your arms and legs and that had been the coldest you’d been all day and you couldn’t complain.

[misshypnofascinated]

Living art

It has been a long day at he office, and I'm staring at a report. My one hand rests under my chin, the other is on the mouse. I click and format, when I feel my phone buzzing. I know that specific pattern, bzzz bz bzzzzzz, that is your pattern. I correct my posture and open my phone immediately.

What I see, surprises me. You want me to pick you up. My head feels a little dizzy, but my mouse is already closing the computer.

As I walk to the car, I feel so happy that I can help. But questions about why, and what, flash distantly through my head. I cannot seem to focus on them completely.  I already dressed in a pencil skirt and a white blouse today, I wonder vaguely if this is as random as it seems now. But I focus mainly on driving safely, there is not much space for other thoughts around.

As I drive to the airport, I see you already standing at some distance away. Standing proud, with an impeccable suit, there is no question who I'm here for. I stop in front of you. As you enter the back of the car, your voice wraps around me. 

You tell me where we are headed. It is outside the city, I can find it without problem. It is a bit of a drive, but it is a nice car, and we soon leave the cityscape for trees. 

You tell me to park the car on the side of the road and stretch my legs. I comply and step out of the car. I fold my hand for a good, full overhead stretch, when you whisper "freeze". 

My muscles lock in the stretch. I feel the tension, I maintain the tension. My mind comes to a standstill. 

"Perfect" I hear. "Drop for me. You are going to be such a good girl for me tonight, won't you?"

I can't respond, I'm frozen in space. I just listen. The silence in my head deepens. After an appreciative walk around my motionless form, your hands grab my cheek. You tell me to go deeper, to feel good. And it feels like my mind is directly in your hands. You tell me I'm yours for the evening. And in my mind, there is only the word Yes. Your hands glide lower, and you slide past all the right places, taking your time. You feel all my responses. But before long, you fix my skirt and blouse. With a brush up from the tip of my nose up to my forehead, you wake me. A small 'oh' escapes my lips, as I lower my arms. I feel so good, my whole body tingles pleasantly.

I shake my head to regain some clarity and get back into the car. You do the same. I need all the brainpower I can muster to bring us safely to the destination. Somewhere we must have picked up a guest, but I'm fuzzy on the details. I just obey. At the address you gave me, I follow you inside. 

You stop at a small, well-lit, alcove. You look at me and ask if I want to display for you. I say yes, and you guide me into the light. You grab my chin again, and I feel the frozen state of earlier coming back into my body. My mind gets still and blinded by the light. You ask me again if I will be a good girl for you tonight, and I say yes. 

You take a step away, and I feel the admiring looks glide over my body. 

Your friend says something, but I'm too focused on you, on the light that fills my mind, and on keeping my pose to apprehend his words. But he steps forward and unbuttons my blouse. The cold air and the nimble fingers feel good on my skin. A small moan escapes my mouth, and you praise me for that response. 

Both of you spend some time positioning me in the perfect pose. You tell me I will be the decoration for the night. A living piece of art. People will come up to me, and try to make me moan, just as prettily as I did just now. And I will please you that way.

You tell me I'm here to show your control over me. To be the hypnotized exhibit, the entertainment of the night, a hot, living, piece of art. And that if I'm as much of a good girl as I promised I would be, I will be rewarded.

My world shrinks to the alcove. I'm standing, not moving. I'm in the pose you want me. My mind is filled with being pleasing for you. Distantly, I notice more guests, passing by, and their touches are as your touches. It is making me feel so good. It shows me that I'm your good little display piece. I hope I'm pleasing you, and that you get the compliments you deserve for the hold you have over me. And I hope I'm pleasing enough for my reward.

But that is not a thought I can focus on right now. In this moment, I just obey.

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

So many violets

[broke-on-books]

😍😍😍

[coridallasmultipass]

.

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[satorisoup]

WAHHH good morning fwiends n’ happy sunday !! ( ྀི◞ ⸝⸝ ◟) & happy september 1st !! dis means dat spooky season is upon us !! what a wonderful time of tha year !! <3

i hope everyone has tha most wonderfulest day today, remember dat you are important n’ loved !! MWUUUAH !! <3 🍯

[shinoko-oshi]

Simon’s sweet wife

seen other people talk about the task force finding out about Simon’s bird at first in subtle ways so I made this

It started with the lunches.

At first, no one thought much of it. Simon had brought the occasional sandwich before, nothing out of the ordinary. But then it changed. Out went the basic bread and meat, and in came proper meals. Lasagna. Curry. A neatly packed container of something warm and homemade, tucked right beside a little folded note Simon was far too quick to snatch out of sight when Johnny leaned over, grinning.

“C’mon, Simon,” he teased, voice full of curiosity. “Just let us have a peek. We wanna know who’s makin’ you lunch like that, eh?”

Kyle nodded, snickering.

“Piss off,” Simon grumbled, big hand curling protectively around the note like it was a classified file. He didn’t care that they were watching, didn’t even look up. Just reread your words, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth beneath the mask.

“Ay, Johnny, look! you can see a heart through the paper!” Kyle laughed, catching the way the light hit the thin paper just right, revealing the faint outline of a heart signed with your name.

After that, it became a bit of a running joke. Not that Simon gave them anything to work with. But the mystery only deepened when, during a three week deployment at another unit, a care package showed up with his name on it.

To say the guys hovered would be an understatement. Johnny and Kyle practically sat on either side of him like vultures, trying to act casual. Price stayed back in his chair, cigarette between his fingers, looking disinterested but Simon could feel his eyes, just as nosy as the others.

The box had all the essentials: snacks, cold weather gear, a familiar blanket from home. A couple of your sweet notes, some of his favorite tea in bulk. But what really got them going were the Polaroids tucked in between the layers of stuff.

Kyle caught a glimpse of one. Simon sitting on a porch step with you in his lap, your smile soft, his arm wrapped tight around your waist.

Johnny elbowed him. “Alright, Simon. When ’re we gonna meet this mystery missus of yours?”

“She wouldn’t like you.” He grunted in response 

“What is she, a grump like you?”

Hardly.

The real surprise came a few weeks later, when a sweet bird showed up at base asking for Lieutenant Simon Riley.

Price was the first to see you. He’d expected someone with a set it glare, reserved, maybe a little sharp around the edges. Instead, you walked right up to Simon with a warm smile, kissed his cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world, and handed him a jacket. 

Simon knew Price, Kyle, and Johnny were watching from around the corner. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if half the rookies and a few of the other sergeants were too.

But none of that mattered.

Not when his sweet girl was standing in front of him.

“Why are you here, baby?” he asked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“You forgot your jacket,” you said, brow furrowed. “And I heard it was supposed to be cold today. I didn’t want you to get sick.”

Your voice alone cracked something in him, and it was impossible not to smile under the mask.

“Y’know I would’ve been fine, love.”

Still, he took the jacket from your hands with a quiet “thank you,” promising to wear it, walking you down the hallway before watching you turn and head back out.

Well— not before Johnny and Kyle caught you at the corner, peering over the wall like a couple of kids up to no good.

They didn’t say much, but by the time Simon heard about it later, you’d already agreed to let them come over for dinner sometime.

He just shook his head. Not even surprised by their antics. But he didn’t say no either.

Because you’d said yes.

So next Saturday, he guessed he’d be setting an extra few plates at the table for Johnny, Kyle, and probably Price, too.