#maybe i’ll turn this into one of those sometime

[pandapetals]

Couple Questions

You and Logan answer some cute couple questions!

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, your an english professor, logan is a history professor

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

a/n: not the usual update but I saw some couple questions on pinterest and thought you know what…im gonna do this because it’s cute. i may or may not also have headcanons for them lol.

What were your first impressions of each other?

You : grinning "I thought he was rude. He barely said hello when I first arrived at the mansion, just mumbled something and walked away like I wasn’t worth his time."

Logan : smirking "To be fair, I had a lot on my mind."

You : "But then I caught him staring at me in the library one day, and I thought, ‘Huh, maybe he’s not as grumpy as he looks.’ Turns out I was wrong—he’s grumpier.” teasingly nudges him

Logan : chuckling "You done? ‘Cause my first impression was that you talked too much."

You : mock gasp "Excuse me?!"

Logan : shrugging "But you had this fire about you. Didn’t take crap from anyone. Thought that was… different." pauses, his voice softening "And your laugh. First time I heard it, I couldn’t get it outta my head."

Describe the moment each of you knew you had feelings for each other.

You : thoughtful smile "I think it was when Jean told me Logan liked me. It just… clicked. All the banter, the little glances, the way he’d hover nearby even though he pretended not to care—it all made sense. Once I realized it, it was like… yeah, I like him too. It was terrifying and exciting at the same time."

Logan : scratching the back of his neck, pretending to look annoyed "She’s makin’ me sound soft already."

You : "You are soft."

Logan : ignoring her "For me, it was probably when I realized she wasn’t offended by my attitude. That’s when I knew she wasn’t just anyone. She was my someone."

Did either of you fight your feelings, or was it easy to accept?

You : snorting "Oh, we both fought it. He avoided me a lot of the time. I overthought everything —does he like me? What if I’m imagining it? What if I ruin our friendship?"

Logan : dryly "You do think too much. Me? I didn’t avoid you."

You : glaring playfully "You literally avoided the library for two weeks, and that’s your favorite place!"

Logan : grinning faintly "Alright, fine. Maybe I fought it a little. Was scared I’d mess things up. Didn’t think someone like you would want someone like me."

You : softly, brushing his hand "You’re an idiot for thinking that, but you’re my idiot."

When was the first time you said “I love you”? What prompted it?

You : "It was after a nightmare. Logan woke up in a cold sweat, muttering apologies for scaring me. But he hadn’t scared me—I just wanted to comfort him. And in the middle of me rambling about how it was okay, it just came out: ‘I love you.’"

Logan : quietly "Didn’t think I’d ever hear those words from someone. But when she said it, I couldn’t stop myself. Told her I loved her right back."

You : smiling softly "And then you called me a ‘damn fool’ for putting up with you."

Logan : shrugging "I stand by it."

Who is the big spoon, who is the little spoon?

You : "Oh, Logan’s the big spoon, obviously. But sometimes I’ll be the big spoon when he’s had a rough day. He pretends to hate it, but I know he secretly likes it."

Logan : grumbling "I don’t need a damn cocoon, sweetheart."

You : grinning "But you still let me."

What’s your favorite quality about each other?

You : "Logan’s loyalty. He’ll protect the people he loves with everything he has, even when he doesn’t think he deserves to be loved back."

Logan : looking at her, his voice softer "Her heart. She’s got this way of makin’ everyone feel like they matter. Like they’re worth somethin’. That’s rare."

You : teasingly "Stop, you’re gonna make me cry."

Logan : smirking "Good. Payback for all the times you make me feel stuff."

Who is the messiest?

You : raising her hand immediately "Me. Absolutely me."

Logan : snorting "Finally, somethin’ we agree on."

You : "Hey, at least I know where everything is in my mess. Your ‘organized’ piles confuse me."

Logan : "It ain’t hard, darlin’. One pile’s for weapons, the other’s for books. What’s so confusin’?"

Who sings in the shower?

You : grinning mischievously "Logan does. And he doesn’t even realize it half the time. It’s adorable."

Logan : deadpan "I don’t sing in the shower."

You : "Oh, so the other day when I walked by and heard you mumbling ‘Sweet Caroline’ under your breath, that wasn’t you?"

Logan : grumbling "I was hummin’ it. There’s a difference."

You : sarcastically "Sure, tough guy. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Who likes horror movies? Who likes romance movies?

You : grinning "Logan likes horror movies, obviously. He’ll sit there, all serious, like nothing phases him. But I swear I caught him flinch once during The Exorcist ."

Logan : gruffly "Did not."

You : "You did. Anyway, I like romance movies. Logan pretends to hate them, but he always ends up watching them with me."

Logan : smirking "That’s ‘cause I know you’ll cry, and I gotta be ready to hand you tissues."

You : rolling her eyes "And yet, who was tearing up during The Notebook last week? Hmm?"

Logan : groaning "Alright, fine. I might like some of ‘em. But don’t go tellin’ anyone."

You : "Oh, your secret’s safe with me. But I’ll totally remind you next time we watch Pride and Prejudice ."

Logan : grinning, pulling her closer "You’re somethin’ else, sweetheart."

What’s your favorite memory of us?

You:thoughtfully smiling “That’s hard to pick. But… I think it was when you planned that romantic getaway for my birthday—you bought me that dress. Or when you wrote that for me poem and gave it to me for Christmas.”

Logan:grinning faintly “You mean the one where you cried ‘cause I wrote you that little poem in the book?”

You:mock gasping “You wrote me a poem , Logan. Of course, I cried! I still have that dress, by the way.”

Logan:chuckling, his voice softer now “That was a good one. But for me? I think it’s our wedding. Just you, me, and those vows I wrote on a scrap of paper. You called me an idiot for cryin’ halfway through.”

You:sniffing dramatically “And I’ll call you an idiot for it again, but only because you cried first. You set me off.”

Logan:smirking “You weren’t even gonna cry ‘til I pulled out that damn lucky pen you gave me.”

You:“Well, yeah, it’s our lucky pen, Logan! What did you expect?”

Hugs or kisses?

You:grinning slyly “Kisses. Definitely kisses.”

Logan:raising an eyebrow “Really? I’d say hugs.”

You:blinking in mock surprise “Logan Howlett likes hugs? Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”

Logan:shrugging, smirking a little “What can I say? There’s somethin’ about you wrappin’ yourself around me that just feels right.”

You:melting a little before recovering quickly “Okay, you win that one. But kisses still come with extra perks.”

Logan:grinning wickedly “Oh, I know.”

Who finds it harder to admit they’re wrong?

You:“Oh, Logan. 100% Logan.”

Logan:gruffly “What? That’s not true.”

You:glaring playfully “Logan, you once argued with me for three hours about the best way to cook eggs—only to realize you were wrong and never admit it.”

Logan:grumbling “That’s ‘cause your way still doesn’t make sense.”

You:crossing her arms “Oh, it makes perfect sense, tough guy. You’re just stubborn.”

Logan:grinning faintly “Alright, fine. Maybe I don’t like bein’ wrong.”

You:“Maybe?!”

Who’s the boss in the marriage?

You:smirking, pointing to herself “Obviously me.”

Logan:laughing softly “Yeah, you think so, huh?”

You:“Logan, who does the meal planning? The laundry schedules? Who makes sure you actually remember birthdays and anniversaries?”

Logan:grinning “Alright, you. But who fixes stuff when it breaks? Who makes sure no one bothers you when you’re havin’ a bad day? Who makes the coffee in the mornin’ exactly how you like it?”

You:softening, smiling sweetly “Alright, fine. We’re both the boss in different ways. But let’s be honest—when it comes to arguments, you fold first.”

Logan:mock scowling “Only ‘cause you give me those damn eyes. Ain’t fair.”

Who has the best jokes?

You:grinning smugly “Me. Hands down.”

Logan:snorting “Yeah, okay. But only ‘cause your jokes are so bad, they’re funny.”

You:“Excuse me?!”

Logan:grinning “Sweetheart, half your jokes are puns. Don’t get me wrong, I love seein’ you crack yourself up, but best jokes? Nah.”

You:frowning in mock offense “Fine, then let’s hear one of your so-called ‘good’ jokes.”

Logan:deadpan “Why’d the history book break up with the science book? No chemistry.”

You:blinking, then laughing despite herself “Okay, that was actually pretty good. Damn it.”

Who is grumpier?

You:“Oh, Logan. No contest.”

Logan:shrugging, unbothered “Yeah, probably.”

You:giggling “You’re basically a walking thundercloud until you’ve had your coffee. And even then, you’ve got about an hour before you start growling at people.”

Logan:smirking “That’s true, but you’re no ray of sunshine when you’re hungry.”

Who gets angry when they’re hungry?

You:immediately “Okay, fine. That’s me. But in my defense, you always know when to feed me before I get too hangry.”

Logan:chuckling “Damn right I do. Learned that the hard way on one of our first dates.”

You:giggling “Oh, you mean the time you forgot to feed me after making me hike five miles, and I almost bit your head off?”

Logan:grinning “Yup. You didn’t even wait for the food to hit the table before tearin’ into me. Thought I was gonna lose a hand.”

You:grinning sheepishly “Hey, at least you didn’t run for the hills.”

Logan:softly, leaning closer “Nah, sweetheart. I’d take your hangry self over anyone else any day.”

[letsbangts]

end of a day || jjk

⤷ summary: when the day tries to weigh you two down you both are there to lift each other up

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ word count: 1.1k

⟶ genre: angst, fluff, established relationship au

⟶ content: boyfriend!jk, stress, crying, & a comforting koo

⟶ warnings: none

↬ a/n: inspired by one of my all time favourite songs end of a day shinee's jonghyun ʚ♡ɞ

↬ a/n2: p.s the italics are the song lyrics & as always let me know what you think i really appreciate feedback :) recommend a song if you’d like and i’ll write a scenario with it like i did with this song!

༄ ༄ ༄ ༄ ༄ ༄ ༄ ༄ ༄ ༄

hold out your hand, wrap it around my neck.

a little below, massage my shoulders.

at the end of a tiring day, even if the sun has already come up

i'm finally closing my eyes

 Sometimes it can feel like there are too many hours in a day. The day has been going on for too long. A day where life felt a bit too hard, where the world got a bit too busy, a bit too heavy and decided to lay its weight upon your shoulders and your heart. A day that all you needed was a hand to reach out to you. It was one of those days for me today, a day that is finally coming to a close as I see the sun going down on the horizon as I make my way back home ready to shut my eyes. Home. The place I could not reach any quicker. It is not the four walls I am racing to arrive to but to him, as he is my real home.

 i close the door to my day later than others

playfully tickle my earlobe

because even though we’ve been in different worlds all day

we always end the day together

I enter my house and close the door also closing the door to my day. Many others have probably retired from their days long before me. I hear the clicking of a mouse an all too familiar sound to me, almost a reassuring sound. And that is when I knew although we were both in two completely different worlds the whole day; my day was just as draining as his. As I walk in and turn to see Jungkook’s tired face and slumped figure still working away, illuminated by his monitor screen I realize his day has been just as long as mine. Seeing him released all the pressure off my shoulders and I can almost release a sigh of relief knowing as always we can end our day together.

your small shoulders, your small hands

become my cozy blanket at the end of a tiring day

For some reason seeing Jungkook today, maybe because of the stress or exhaustion, whatever it is the second I see him a welling feeling emerges in my chest.

“Kook?” my voice shakes out.

He turns his head, not noticing my presence before being absorbed in his work, only ready to go to bed as soon as he’s pleased with his edit.

“Hmm?” as he turns his head his glasses reflect the glare caught from the screen.

We make eye contact and he watches as I approach him. As I walk closer to him he immediately wheels back his chair from the desk making space for me. He opens his arms when he sees my quivering lips and watery eyes, pulling me with his lap. He wraps his arms around my small shoulders, my small hands clutch onto his shirt as I cry into him. With my face buried in his chest, I stain his shirt with my tears, shedding my day. He rubs my back letting me get out the feelings I pent up for hours. He is silent as he embraces me until I hear him let out a deep sigh himself and I suddenly feel like I am comforting him at the same time. For the first time in my day, I finally take a breath of contentment able to relax and Jungkook seemingly doing the same.

you did a good job today, you worked so hard

i hope my shoulders and my thick hands

will become cozy comfort for the end of your tiring day as well

Jungkook pats my head with his thick hands probably stiff from all the clicking and typing the diligent work he always puts into everything.

“It’s okay. You did a good job today. You worked so hard, I know you did.” he soothes me with a gentle voice.

I sniffle and pull back to look up at him. I remove his glasses from his face and place them on his desk. I look into his eyes, red with dark bags underneath them as he stares back at mine, red and filled with tears.

I blanked out as I admired him filling myself with the warmth of satisfaction I get from simply being with him.

i want to naturally sync my breathing with yours 

like water in a bathtub that wraps around you with no space left

i wanna warmly hold you without any space left

I want to end my day with Jungkook. Merge me with him, with his breathing, with his heartbeat, with his movements, his everything, with his very being.

“I missed you,” I say to him “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.” He replies hugging me tighter.

“You must have had quite a day as well I shouldn't be crying on you like this.” I wipe away my tears and laugh at my selfishness, burdening him with my tears.

 at the end of my day, filled with awkward mistakes

you, my prize, are waiting for me.

i can’t cry all I want or even laugh all I want

at the end of a tiring day but still, if I’m next to you

like a child, I can whine and then laugh till I run out of breath

i’m not used to seeing myself like this

He takes my face into his hands, cupping my cheeks his thumbs rubbing them back and forth. His gaze is loving as he says,

“No matter what kind of day I have, one filled with accomplishments or one filled with mistakes, once we come together my day can never end on a bad note. You are my prize, you being here with me is all the reassurance I need to know I can get through this day, and the next, and any more that may come. I may be one to suppress my feelings and not express myself fully, I don’t cry all the time or laugh as often as I should. But at the end of a tiring day, I know if I'm next to you, you will let me whine like a child and then you'll have me laughing until I’m out of breath. And it still surprises me after all these years with you seeing myself like that.”

I glide my hands up to his neck and pull him in for a kiss so deep that it feels like we become one, breaths intertwined.

Sometimes it can feel like there are too many hours in a day. The day has been going on for too long. But right now I realize there can never be enough hours in a day for me when I am with Jungkook. So the day can go on for as long as it wants because no matter how long it is I can make it through knowing that at the end of it, I will make my way back to Jungkook.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

you did a good job today, you worked so hard

you are my prize

[denkisauce]

hello! do you have any bnha fic recs?

omg hi!! i’m so happy you asked this ☺️☺️

yes i actually have a whole google doc of fic recs 😻 i haven’t read bnha fics in a little while but i think this list is pretty much up to date to what ive read!

i am absolutely biased but i used to inhaleee bnha fics so this list is really the best of the best all bangers!!! and very long lots to choose from lol

im a multi/polyshipper so there’s a little bit of everyone and everything in there! enjoy!!

[kateschi]

same book, different chapters

synopsis: an ordinary evening takes a turn when katsuki expresses what you've always known but never expected to hear.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

being with katsuki is a lesson in unspoken understanding. you knew who he is long before you started dating him—loud, brash, and not the type to share his feelings openly.

but it didn’t take long to realize there’s so much more to him than that. his love is quiet, reserved, and shown in the details:

how he pulls you out of the way of a passing car, or how he remembers the smallest things, like your favorite kind of tea or that you prefer your coffee without sugar.

and that is enough for you. mostly.

you didn’t expect him to be the kind of boyfriend who says "I love you" with ease. katsuki isn’t like that. it isn’t something you hold against him either.

but every now and then, a small part of you wonders what it would be like to hear him say it—to hear those three words slip past his lips in the same way they had from yours.

you say it first, a quiet “I love you” in the middle of a peaceful night when the world outside feels still.

his response comes in the shape of hugging you tighter, securing you in his arms. however, he doesn’t say it back, and you don’t expect him to. you don’t need him to.

still, there are times when you find yourself holding your breath, wondering if one day he’ll actually verbalize it.

it isn’t that you doubt his feelings. katsuki isn’t one to waste time on things or people he doesn’t care about.

you know how much he cares by the way he silently takes care of you, always putting you first in his own way, even when his words are rough around the edges.

it’s just that sometimes, words have a way of making things feel more real.

tonight is one of those easy evenings you cherish—one where you don’t have to think too much about anything. the two of you are in your kitchen, making dinner together, though “together” is generous.

you’re doing most of the work while katsuki stands next to you, arms crossed, casting a critical eye over everything you do.

“you’re putting too much salt,” he says, the frown on his face making you smile.

“pretty sure this is the exact amount the recipe says to use,” you reply, amused at how serious he always gets when it comes to food.

“tch, that recipe’s wrong. I could’ve made this better with my eyes closed.”

“then why don’t you?” you tease, turning your head to glance at him. his gaze is sharp as usual, but the small curve in the corner of his lips betrays him.

“maybe I’ll cook next time,” he grumbles, looking away like the very idea of giving in bothers him.

you laugh softly, enjoying the banter. this is something you love about him—how even in these simple moments, his presence fills the space with a sense of ease.

there’s no pressure to be anything other than yourselves, even when his blunt honesty clashes with your more relaxed approach.

as you stir the pot, you can’t help but let your thoughts wander back to the three words. you know katsuki isn’t the type to say things until he’s ready, and you respect that.

but part of you is curious—would it ever come naturally to him, or would it always be something unspoken between the two of you?

still, as you stand there, the warmth of his steady presence beside you, you realize that maybe you’re okay with it remaining unspoken. katsuki shows his love in ways that don’t need words to validate them.

and then, without warning, you feel his arms wrap around your waist from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. you freeze for a moment, caught off-guard.

“katsuki?” you ask, your voice soft, as you lean into him instinctively.

he doesn’t answer right away, just holds you there. his touch isn’t hesitant, but it is different from the usual casual touches you’ve grown used to.

“you’re annoying sometimes,” he mutters, voice low in your ear.

you chuckle, relaxing further into his hold. “I know.”

there’s silence for a beat, and then: “but I love you anyway, idiot.”

you blink, unsure if you’ve heard him correctly. you turn your head slightly, trying to see his face, but he buries it against your neck, hiding his expression. “did you just—?”

“don’t make a big deal out of it,” he mumbles, voice suddenly gruff, though you can hear the embarrassment beneath the words.

a smile breaks across your face, warmth spreading through your chest. you didn’t expect it, but that makes it all the more special. he isn’t saying it because the moment demands it.

he isn’t saying it because you’re waiting. he says it because he wants to, because he feels it.

“I’m not,” you reply, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably as your happiness bubbles up in your voice. “but…I love you too.”

you feel his grip tighten around you and a kiss pressed to your shoulder.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[vunblr]

What if...?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Unprotected sex, dirty talk, slight dom! Bucky. A little angst.

Summary: Bucky navigates his insecurities and guilt from his past as he grows closer to his new neighbor, a nurse.

Word Count: About 8.4k.

She knew exactly who he was the first time they bumped into each other when she ran toward the stairs of her apartment building, and he suddenly emerged from them, lost in thought. He wasn’t wearing his gloves, and the glint of metal was pretty noticeable when he reached out to grab her elbow to prevent her from falling backward. The touch was brief, since he retired his hand promptly when he was sure she would not fall, his blue eyes revealing something akin to regret.

“I… I’m sorry,” he stammered, his voice low and gravelly as he retracted his hand, tucking it into his jacket.

“Oh, don’t be,” she responded, the corners of her lips lifting just slightly as she waved her hand dismissively. “I should’ve been more careful. The elevator’s out, and I was in such a hurry… ugh. We always tell the kids not to run in hallways and stairs because accidents can happen, and here I am-" She cut herself off, realizing she was rambling, and gave an embarrassed smile. “Anyway… hi. I’m Y/n, I just moved in yesterday.” She extended her hand.

He reached out, his grip firm but gentle. “James Barnes, but most people call me Bucky.”

Her eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, and as she straightened her nurse uniform, she bit her lip. Handsome. The cute wrinkles that creased the corners of his striking blue eyes, were the kind that hinted at a man who had both smiled and seen more than his fair share of hardship, and it was hard not to notice. His body, the epitome of perfection. She mentally slapped herself for staring. “Well, Bucky, I’m running late for work, so I need to go, but I’ll see you around. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

He nodded, watching as she hurried down the stairs, her uniform swaying slightly with her steps. He stood there, rooted to the spot for a moment longer than he should have, replaying the soft smile on her lips.

The days after that encounter passed in a blur of awkward run-ins. Each time, she greeted him with the same soft smile, and each time, Bucky found himself lost in thoughts he hadn’t allowed himself in years.

It started with a polite nod, maybe a smile here and there, but soon, their brief encounters turned into casual conversations. Small talk about their days, the weather, even little jokes about the state of their shared building. He found himself looking forward to those moments, however fleeting they were, because it felt so easy to exchange a few words with her, how her laughter always seemed to come just when he needed to hear it. He’d often catch her gaze lingering on him a second too long before she looked away, a faint blush coloring her cheeks and it was enough to make him wonder if maybe, just maybe, she felt the same pull that he did.

Then, one evening, as they both stood waiting for the elevator, she quirked a brow at him. "You know, Bucky," she started, her voice light, "if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were following me."

He blinked, caught off guard, but the playful glint in her eyes made him relax. He let out a small chuckle. "Well… I could say the same about you." She laughed, and once again, the sound made him feel almost normal.

His therapist had been telling him for months that he was isolated, and that he needed to socialize, form connections. She had even suggested dating, but every time he tried, it hadn’t gone well. The interactions felt awkward, forced, and he often found an excuse to leave early, or worse, sometimes he didn’t even bother with an excuse, just walking out of there without a word.

There was something about Y/n that set her apart, mostly the ease with which their conversations flowed. He wasn’t the type to talk much, often keeping things curt and to the point, but she had this way of making the silence between them feel comfortable, never pushing him to share more than he wanted. He didn’t have to try so hard to keep up with standard appearances. But the pull toward her wasn’t just about feeling comfortable, he wanted her. He caught himself watching her more often than he’d like to admit, she was exactly his type, soft and curvy in all the right places. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to touch her, to run his hands over her body, feel her warmth beneath his fingertips. But every time he got close to asking her out, fear crept in, locking the words in his throat. Fear of rejection, of being too damaged, of her seeing the parts of him he was ashamed of. It always stopped him.

Tonight felt different, though. There was something in her playful approach that made the fear feel less suffocating, less overwhelming. The elevator doors opened, and as they stepped inside, Bucky turned to her, his heart hammering in his chest. He could barely believe he was about to do this.

"Y/n?" he asked, his voice lower than usual.

She glanced at him, her eyes curious. "Yeah?"

He swallowed hard, feeling the moment's weight as he stood before her, and almost panicked. This wasn’t something he was used to. He could fight in gruesome battles, survive impossible odds, flip a fucking armored truck with a tug of his arm… but asking someone out? That felt like a whole different battlefield. It was terrifying in a way those other things weren’t.

For a moment, he almost backpedaled. His mind scrambled, desperately searching for something else to say, some way to deflect his intentions and change the subject. But nothing came. He was stuck. He’d already opened his mouth, and there was no way to retreat now without looking like a fool.

Taking a deep breath, he jumped.

“Would you like to grab dinner with me sometime?” The words came out gruff but honest. For a second, doubt crept in, making him wonder if he’d just made a mistake.

Her eyes widened in surprise before lighting up, a smile spreading across her face that eased the knot on his stomach. “Oh, I’d love to. It’d be fun to do something outside the building for a change. We run into each other so much, that I actually thought about asking you to hang out, but you always seemed rushed, like you couldn’t wait to leave. I’m glad that’s not the case.” She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “You know, we can be neighbors and friends. There’s nothing in the building rules against it.”

Bucky blinked, his heart sinking at the word friends. He forced one of the practiced, uncomfortable smiles his therapist suggested. Friendzoned -a term he’d only recently discovered- wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, but he hadn’t spelled it out, either. Of course she thought he was just trying to be friendly, he hadn’t given her a fucking hint of his real intentions. He hadn’t flirted, hadn’t made even the slightest move to swoon her.

The old him would’ve had no trouble conveying his interest. He would’ve been smooth and confident, knowing exactly how to charm her and make his intentions clear. But he wasn’t that guy anymore. He hadn’t done this in decades, and the rules seemed to have shifted in ways he didn’t fully understand. Hell, he had shifted. He sighed. 

"Uh, Y/n?" he started, his tone careful and tentative. She looked back at him, her eyes curious. "I just want to be clear," he continued, rubbing the back of his neck, "I meant it... as a date. Not just neighbors or friends grabbing a bite."

For a moment, she didn’t respond, still processing what he had just said. His words hung in the air, heavy with significance. And then, something clicked. A blush crept up her neck as her smile turned more thoughtful. He wanted to spend time with her not because they lived in the same building or happened to bump into each other, but because he was interested.

"Oh. Sorry, I didn’t realize… I mean…” she stumbled with her words, “I didn’t know you meant it like that." She has had her fair share of men in her life but being honest with herself, in a million years, she wouldn’t have guessed someone like him would be asking her out. Not Bucky, the quiet, handsome, brooding neighbor with the sharp jawline and the weight of a thousand untold stories in his eyes. For months, she had brushed off the little moments between them as neighborly interactions, nothing more. It had been easier that way. Safer, maybe. But now, standing here, the truth of his intentions was undeniable.

He waited, his expression still calm, but the vulnerability in his eyes was unmistakable. She almost laughed at herself, the absurdity of it all. Of course, she had noticed him. How could she not?

Her smile softened, "I’m glad you clarified." she finally said, her voice quieter now. "And yeah, Bucky. I’d like that, a lot."

Bucky gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, as if he’d been holding his breath and had just now allowed himself to exhale. A faint smile crept onto his lips, one that actually reached his eyes, softening the hardened edges he usually carried.

"Great," he murmured, his voice low but warm. "I’ll, uh, figure something out."

They shared one last look before the elevator doors opened, and as they stepped out, Bucky’s heart was still racing, but this time, it wasn’t from fear.

The first date had been simple, almost quiet in its ease. He brought her flowers, a small, hesitant gesture that made her eyes light up. They went to a bistro and talked about life, interests, and the kind of things you only share when you feel a certain sense of safety with someone. Bucky never said more than necessary, but she learned to read the way his eyes softened when he listened, the faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth when she said something that caught him off guard. It was easy and comfortable as their previous interactions, and yet, in the back of his mind, there was always the whisper: do you even deserve this?

The second date was at the small café on the corner of their building. There had been more laughter this time, the conversation flowing easily. As they sat across from each other, their knees brushed under the table. It was subtle, almost unintentional, but the warmth of the touch lingered. It happened again, and neither of them moved away.

They walked back in silence, a comfortable quiet settling between them, though there was an undeniable charge in the air. As they reached her door, she turned to face him, and for a moment, the space between them felt heavier, thick with the weight of everything unsaid.

His hand hovered just near her lower back, not quite touching, but close enough that she felt the warmth of his body through the fabric of her dress. For a brief second, she thought he might pull her closer to break that last sliver of space between them, but he didn’t. His hand lingered for just a moment longer before falling away, his expression betraying a flicker of hesitation.

Bucky’s gaze dropped briefly to her lips, his brows furrowing slightly, before he looked away, almost as if chastising himself. His old-fashioned upbringing, perhaps, held him back and kept him from making the move she half-expected, the one she wanted.

“Goodnight, Y/n,” he said quietly, his voice rougher than usual. His tired eyes lingered on hers just a little too long, as if he were still debating, still fighting the pull to act on the desire he was clearly feeling.

She nodded, trying to ignore the flutter on her chest and to respect his boundaries, even though her hands itched to reach for him, to pull him closer and start what he wouldn’t. “Goodnight, Bucky,” she said softly, her own voice betraying the emotions swirling beneath the surface.

They stood there for a heartbeat longer, the short distance between their doors now feeling like miles. He gave her a small, almost hesitant smile, then turned toward his own apartment, the quiet between them somehow louder now.

By the time the third date approached, Bucky’s nerves were starting to get the better of him. He didn’t want to ruin this. The cocky Sergeant Barnes -the man who hadn’t yet turned into a walking nightmare- would’ve laughed at him. That version of himself had been bold, self-assured, the type of man who could sweep a woman off her feet without a second thought. He’d have taken the lead with ease, knowing exactly how to handle the situation. But that man was long gone, buried beneath the weight of all he had done, all he had become.

Before leaving for the date, he poured himself an imperial pint of asgardian ale. Just enough to give him a buzz, to take the edge off. Standing there, glass in hand, he caught his reflection in the window and sighed. Could she see it? The darkness? The scars left behind from being Hydra’s puppet? And even if she didn’t... how long until she did? You don’t deserve this, the voice whispered again, unrelenting.

That night, after dinner, they found themselves in her living room, two untouched coffee cups growing cold on the table beside them. The dim light softened the space around them, creating an intimate cocoon that made their conversation flow effortlessly. Yet, beneath the easy chatter, Bucky’s doubts lingered. He couldn’t shake the feeling that any move forward could shatter the delicate balance between them.

He’d been raised with a sense of propriety, a rhythm to follow when it came to courting. There was a dance to it, an unspoken set of rules about when to advance and when to hold back. The trouble now was figuring out how much to let himself move forward, how far to let this go before the weight of his past dragged him under again.

As their conversation naturally ebbed into silence, he noticed her gaze flicker to his lips, lingering just a bit longer than usual. His pulse quickened. She was giving him a sign, even if she hadn’t meant to. For a brief moment, he hesitated, but the look in her eyes, the quiet anticipation, and the ale still running through his system urged him forward.

He leaned in slightly, their knees brushing, the warmth of her body drawing him closer. His hand hovered near her arm, and she responded getting closer, her lips parting ever so slightly as if inviting him in without saying a word.

Slowly, deliberately, he closed the distance between them, his heart pounding in his chest. The kiss was meant to be soft and chaste, but all restraint flew out the window the second their lips touched.

His hand slipped to the small of her back, pulling her closer, the kiss growing hungrier, more urgent, as if months of longing were unraveling in that single moment. With a gentle, almost teasing flick of his tongue against her lower lip, he urged her to open her mouth. She complied, her lips parting as she allowed him in, and things turned molten. His tongue slid against hers, and the heat between them spiraled when she let out a quiet, breathless moan. The sound sent a jolt of desire pushing him further. His metal hand remained firm on her back, pulling her as close as possible, while the other slipped into her hair. She responded eagerly, her fingers gliding up his chest and tangling in his now messy bun, tugging him closer as if she couldn’t get enough. The kiss was all-consuming, urgent and messy, as months of tension finally broke free. Eventually, they slowly pulled apart, heavy breaths mingling in the charged air between them. His gaze dropped to her lips, now swollen and flushed from their activities, and he felt the undeniable pull to dive back in.

Then he noticed it. His vibranium hand had slid down to her waist and was gripping harder than he intended. Much harder. He swallowed and looked at it, the realization sinking in. His hand, still gripping tightly, could harm her. He sighed, frustration and self-reproach tugging at him, unable to find a balance between his longing and his fear of hurting her.

She caught the sigh, her eyes following his downward gaze until they landed on his hand, still gripping her waist. And then it clicked, she understood. It wasn’t just the pressure of his hand; it was everything behind it. The strength he was constantly aware of, the control he had to maintain, the fear of hurting someone he cared about without meaning to. It wasn’t just about this moment, it was about everything he carried with him.

Instead of pulling away, she did the opposite. She shifted slightly, pressing closer into his hand, her body language reassuring him. With that small gesture, she was telling him she trusted him, she wasn’t fragile, and she wasn’t going to break. He didn’t need to hold back with her.

He exhaled softly, and a question bubbled up, one that had been lingering in his mind for far too long. “Have you ever thought how things would have been if we had met under different circumstances?” His voice was quiet, almost tentative, the weight of the topic heavy in the intimate space between them.

Her brow furrowed slightly, curiosity piqued. “Different how?” she asked, leaning in a little, her eyes searching his.

Bucky took a breath, his gaze drifting again as if he were caught somewhere between the past and the present. “I mean… if I hadn’t been…” He trailed off for a second, a shadow crossing his expression. “If I didn’t become what I am. If I’d been just… me.” His voice was low, barely above a whisper, as though speaking the words out loud might break something fragile between them.

She stayed quiet, giving him the space he needed, her hand gently resting on his arm, a subtle reassurance.

“I think about it sometimes,” he admitted, his eyes still distant, fixed on a point somewhere beyond her. “If we’d met before all the... before everything.” His lips pressed into a thin line, guilt flickering behind his blue eyes. “Maybe in another time, I could’ve been just a guy. Someone who didn’t have…” He paused, his metal hand still against her back. “Someone that wouldn’t have been so messed up. Someone normal and approachable.”

Her heart clenched at the weight of his words. “Bucky…” she started, her voice soft, but he shook his head slightly as if to wave off her sympathy.

“I don’t know,” he continued, quieter now. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve…” He cut himself off, jaw tightening.

Without hesitation, she entwined their fingers, squeezing gently. “You do deserve this,” she said firmly, her voice unwavering as she met his gaze. She wasn’t going to let him retreat into the dark place where his self-deprecation lived. “You deserve to be happy, Buck. You’re a good man.” She sighed and shifted beside him, her head resting back against the couch as she considered his previous words and then an idea popped up.

“Let’s see… if I had been born before 1920, I’d probably still be a nurse.” Her lips curved into a small smile as she looked at him sideways, eyes gleaming in the dim light. She watched him closely, seeing how he would react, her heart thumping just a little faster as she waited. “I’d have enlisted to work in a field hospital. And… who knows, maybe we could have met there when you were serving.” She let the thought linger in the air, light and playful, hoping it would lift the heaviness that had settled between them.

Bucky’s brows lifted slightly, and he tilted his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He shifted closer to her without even realizing, his hand still resting lightly on her waist. “You would’ve been responsible for making sure I was fit for duty,” he mused, his tone a little lighter now as if the idea of an alternate history didn’t seem so bad. “Keeping an eye on me, seeing my injuries, maybe even patching me up yourself.” He added with a playful edge, allowing himself to immerse in the scenario.

She grinned, shaking her head, eyes twinkling as she imagined the scene. “Oh, from what I heard about you, I doubt you would have visited the hospital very often, Sarge,” she teased, nudging his knee with hers playfully, a grin tugging at her lips.

Bucky chuckled, the sound low and genuine, as his thumb began tracing slow, soothing circles on her back, a gesture she was growing fond of. “Probably not,” he agreed, leaning in slightly, his voice dipping into something softer. “But I would’ve noticed you from afar. Even if I had no reason to be there, you would’ve stood out.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. Her fingers absentmindedly brushed the back of his hand, a smile playing on her lips as she waited for his answer.

Bucky glanced down at their intertwined hands, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against her softer ones. He looked back up at her, his voice steady, but with a hint of something deeper. “Because you’re beautiful,” he said simply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

She blinked, caught off guard by the casual sincerity in his tone. “Beautiful, me? Pfft!” She laughed softly, with a playful spark in her eyes. “But... now that I think about it, pin-up girls were a thing when you were serving, weren’t they?”

Bucky leaned back into the couch, pulling her with him, his arm wrapping firmer around her waist, a slow grin forming at her words. “Yeah, well, nurses were definitely included in the ‘interesting’ category too,” he teased. His eyes flicked down, tracing the curves of her body as his hand tightened slightly around her waist, making her feel self-conscious. “Especially ones with curves like yours.”

She let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head, but before she could say anything, Bucky continued, his voice lower now, a bit more serious. “You’d have been popular among the guys in camp, you know. They’d have been lining up, falling over themselves to get your attention.” He paused, his gaze flicking back to hers. “But trust me, I would’ve noticed you first. And I wouldn’t have let anyone else have a shot.”

Her cheeks flushed as she tucked her legs beneath her, giving him a playful nudge. “Oh, so you would’ve asked me out?” she teased, her curiosity bubbling to the surface as she edged closer to him, her eyes locked on his.

Bucky turned slightly toward her, the hand resting on her arm sliding down slowly, his fingers brushing her skin in soft, teasing strokes. “Oh, I wouldn’t have just asked,” he said with a smirk. “I’d have made sure you had no reason to say no.”

She felt her heart quicken at the subtle heat in his voice, the playful edge giving way to something more intense. Her breath hitched slightly, and she bit her lip as she gazed up at him. “Is that so?” she murmured, her voice soft, a bit more serious now. “And how would you have done that?” She leaned in a little, her shoulder brushing against his, her warmth radiating into the small space between them. “How was the game back then? Brought flowers? Invited me to dance?”

“Both, probably,” he murmured, his hand now resting on her thigh, his thumb grazing the fabric of her dress in slow, deliberate motions. “Flowers, because they’re classic... and dancing, because it’s intimate.”

“Well,” she whispered, her voice softer now as she leaned her head toward him, lips just inches from his ear, “I guess I would’ve let you court me, Sarge. Tell me about a date with you.”

Bucky’s hand tightened slightly on her thigh, the pressure just enough to make her heart race. His stubbled cheek brushed against hers as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin. “Saturday night,” he whispered, his lips barely grazing the shell of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine, “dinner at the Officers’ Club, followed by a slow dance... and then back to my quarters for a proper goodnight kiss.”

Her breath hitched, her pulse quickening as the warmth of his breath and the weight of his words settled between them. She could feel the tension thickening in the air, her voice trembling slightly as she teased, “Only a kiss?”

Bucky smirked against her skin, his lips hovering near her ear. “Maybe more than just a kiss,” he rasped, his voice low and full of promise, “but only if you wanted it too.”

She arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “Hmm, I dunno, Sergeant Barnes... things were done more properly back then, right? No sex before marriage, and all that stuff?”

He let out a low chuckle, his hand already inching higher up her thigh, the heat of his touch sending shivers up her spine. “You’re absolutely right,” he agreed, his voice taking on a teasing edge. “I would've waited until our wedding night…” His hand slid beneath the fabric of her dress, fingers grazing the soft skin of her thigh. “But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have thought about it. Every. Single. Day.” He leaned in again as he whispered. “How you’d look... how you’d feel... imagining all the ways I’d finally get to touch you.” His breath was warm against her skin, the words heavy with tension.

“Is that so?” she murmured, her fingers sliding up his chest, gripping his collar just enough to keep him close. “You think you could’ve waited?”

His hand tightened again on her thigh. “I would’ve tried... but I don’t think you would’ve made it easy.” Bucky’s playful tone faded into something more serious, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. “Would you have let me… let me have you like that?” His words carried a weight that made her heart race.

She swallowed, her fingers gripping his shirt tighter as she looked up into his eyes, feeling the pull of him in a way that left her defenseless. “I-” her voice faltered, her pulse racing, but she managed to find her words. “Yeah, Bucky... I would’ve.”

Bucky’s metal hand, firm but tender, climbed from her waist tracing a slow, deliberate path up her spine. He then reached for the little buttons at the neckline of her dress, his touch both careful and bold as he unfastened them, one by one. Each undone button revealed more of her skin to his darkened gaze, and the way he looked at her made her feel exposed in a way that went beyond the physical. “I would’ve taken care of you,” he murmured, his lips brushing her collarbone. “Made sure no one else got close to you.”

Her body leaned instinctively toward him, craving the closeness as her free hand ran up his arm, her fingers tracing the firm muscles beneath his shirt. “No one else would’ve mattered,” she whispered.

With a swift, deliberate motion, the hand on her neckline slid down and snaked behind her, grasping her ass and pulling her fully into his lap. She gasped as her hips pressed against his, feeling exactly how much he wanted her. “Every night,” he growled, his voice rough with need, “I would’ve made sure you were mine.” His eyes were ablaze with raw desire as his grip tightened, holding her firmly against him.

Her pulse raced, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them and his mouth crashed into hers in a searing kiss. His other hand slid higher up her thigh, teasing the edge of her underwear, fingers brushing the soft skin. A soft moan escaped her lips, muffled by the kiss, and when he broke it, his lips found the curve of her neck.

“So only one kiss, huh?” she chuckled in a breathed tone, her voice trembling with anticipation as her hips instinctively rocked against him.

Bucky inhaled deeply against her skin, trailing hot kisses down toward her chest. “Well, I would've kissed you every chance I got but believe me, that wouldn’t have been enough...” His words were thick with promise, his breath hot against her skin. He pressed his arousal harder against her, his hand slipping between them, fingers tracing her slick heat over her underwear. The breathless gasp that escaped her was all the encouragement he needed. “… that wouldn’t have been fucking enough.” he whispered against her skin, his voice low and filled with hunger, as his fingers moved with purpose, leaving no doubt about what he wanted.

She bit her lip, her voice soft but laced with playful intent as she fed into the fantasy they were weaving. “Well, if we had ourselves a little house with a white fence, I’d have waited for you to come home every day in a frilly apron,” her eyes locked onto his, a teasing smile tugging at her lips as she added, “with nothing underneath.”

The image she painted made Bucky’s breath hitch, his grip tightening around her ass. His eyes nearly rolled back, his imagination spiraling into wild possibilities. “Damn.” His voice was laced with lust. “If I could’ve had you waiting for me like that,” he murmured, his hand gripping her tighter, fingers digging into her skin as his restraint began to falter “I’d have come home early every damn day just to take advantage of you.” His lips brushed the swell of her breasts, the heat between them spiraling as his imagination ran wild, and he pulled her impossibly closer while teasing over her soaked panties.

Her gaze flicked from his lips back to his darkened eyes. “Oh yeah?” she challenged, her voice a sultry whisper. “Right there on the kitchen table?”

Bucky’s smirk deepened, the raw desire in his eyes nearly swallowing her whole. “Hell yes, right there on the kitchen table,” he growled, his vibranium hand gripping her ass harder, possessively. “I’d bend you over it, flip up that little apron, and bury myself inside you until you screamed my name for the whole damn neighborhood to hear.” He confessed without a hint of remorse or shame.

Her body reacted instantly, hips pressing hard against the teasing hand hovering over her clothed pussy. A soft whimper escaped her, the sound almost desperate. His hand answered her need by slipping her panties aside, his fingers slowly sinking into her heat, stretching her with deliberate, agonizing precision. The sensation sent a shudder through her, her body arching into his touch.

She let out a shaky breath, her playful tone faltering as her body betrayed her. “How kinky,” she managed to tease, biting her lip as she met his gaze, her voice barely steady under the growing pressure inside her.

Bucky inhaled sharply, savoring the way she responded, his hand moving with more purpose now. “Kinky enough to have you blushing for days,” he growled, his teeth grazing up to her jawline before dragging his lips slowly up to brush against hers. His fingers kept sliding deeper inside her with slow, deliberate strokes. “And when the milkman came the next morning…” The hand on her ass squeezed the supple skin harder, pulling her even close against him, while the other continued its relentless torment between her legs. “...you’d be so sore from the night before, you wouldn’t even be able to stand straight. Couldn’t look anyone in the eye without blushing, remembering just how loud you screamed.”

She blushed at his statement, totally immersed in the fantasy. “That sounds… so good, Buck.” She managed to say, her voice trembling with want. She bit her lip again, locking eyes with him and starting to ground herself shamelessly against his fingers, the pressure building quickly inside her. “But... would you only fuck me at the kitchen table when coming back? What about… other creative places? Like the back porch, under the shade of the bindweed?...”

Bucky's eyes closed as her suggestion sparked a flood of heated thoughts. “Hell, yes," he growled, his voice deep and gravelly, thick with desire. He pushed his fingers deeper inside her, his thumb circling her swollen clit, drawing a sharp gasp from her lips. “I’d lift that sexy little apron right up, spread your legs wide open, and fuck you right there under the bindweeds," he murmured, his lips brushing her ear, each word laced with promise. "And you'd moan my name, scream it, while everyone else thinks we’re just having a quiet afternoon tea."

The combination of his filthy words and the relentless pressure of his fingers sent her body trembling with anticipation, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. "Bucky…" she moaned softly, her hands tightening their grip on him, desperate for everything he was giving her. Her hips bucked uncontrollably against his hand, her breath hitching as his fingers curled inside her, hitting just the right spot and sending waves of pleasure radiating through her body. The pleasure built inside her, tightening, coiling until every nerve in her body felt alive.

Bucky felt the signals and growled, his fingers moving faster now, each stroke deliberate and calculated as his forehead pressed against hers, his breath coming out in ragged bursts. “I’d had make sure no one could ever touch you the way I did,” he muttered, his voice low and possessive. "Every inch of you, mine." He punctuated the last words with hard, rhythmic rubs at one side of her clit and that was all she needed for the climax to hit her, a wave of intense pleasure crashing through her. Her moans turned into soft cries as she buried her face on his neck, her body trembling violently as his hand continued to work her through it, prolonging her ecstasy.

When her body came down from her high, still trembling from the intensity, Bucky slowly withdrew his fingers. Panting, she looked at his gaze and saw the raw, unbridled desire burning in his cobalt eyes. Without hesitation, she leaned in, her lips finding his stubbled jaw, trailing soft, hungry kisses down his neck, nipping and sucking against his skin while her hand wandered lower and lower on his abdomen, finally unbuttoning his pants with deliberate slowness, venturing inside his underwear.

The moment her fingers brushed against his cock, he tensed and groaned. “W-wait,” he rasped, his voice thick with need and restraint. His hand held hers firmly, keeping her from going further.

Her brow furrowed slightly in confusion, her lips still hovering near his neck. “Why?” she murmured, her voice low but steady. “I want to make you feel good too. You deserve it, Bucky,” she whispered, her words full of tenderness and desire. Her fingers twitched beneath his grip, her intention clear.

Bucky let out a low, shaky breath with a hint of frustration. He knew he had to come clean. “I want it too, trust me,” he muttered, his voice low, strained. “But it’s been so long... too long. If you touch me now…” He trailed off, swallowing hard, the unspoken words hanging in the air. “Let me lead,” he whispered, his voice thick with promise. He leaned in to kiss her, deep and slow, pouring all the pent-up desire into the kiss.

She sighed softly, pulling back just enough to reach for the hem of her dress, slipping it over her head in one fluid motion. The fabric lifted away from her body, leaving her sitting in only her bra and panties as the dress was tossed to the side of the couch.

Bucky’s gaze darkened as he took her in, his hands instinctively roaming over her bare skin. But then he groaned again softly, almost painfully, his fingers pausing as his grip tightened around her waist. “What happened to let me lead?” he rasped; his voice thick with restraint.

Her breath hitched at his words, her lips parting as if to respond with a half-hearted apology, but before she could, his hands were already sliding down her body, reclaiming control. His fingers traced her bra straps, slipping them off her shoulders with excruciating slowness. “I need to do it my way,” he murmured, his voice a low growl as he leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. “If you don’t behave... this ends before we even begin.”

The meaning of his earlier words hit her then, her body stiffening as realization dawned. He wasn’t just leading to take his time with her; he was fighting to keep from losing control, from coming right there in his pants. Her teasing grin faltered, replaced with a softer expression. “Oh,” she whispered, her voice quieter now, laced with understanding. “I didn’t realize…” Her fingers gently grazed his cheek, guilt creeping into her tone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you.”

Bucky tensed slightly at her touch, inwardly cursing himself for letting his vulnerability slip. His masculine pride stung. Great job, Barnes. Way to cool the mood. He forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers in an attempt to brush off the tension. “It’s alright,” he muttered, but the strain in his voice betrayed him. His fingers dug into her hips just a little, grounding himself. “I just... got worked up faster than I expected.” He exhaled shakily, trying to ease the tension. Then he started to move.

As his fingers worked at the clasp of her bra, his touch slow and deliberate, he broke the silence with a low murmur, his voice thick with desire, yet laced with a hint of vulnerability. “You know… I liked you from the moment we bumped into each other on the stairs,” he said, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. “I still remember the way you looked at me, even after I knocked you off balance and grabbed your arm. No gloves, metal hand out in the open… but you didn’t flinch.”

She smiled softly at the memory, her breath hitching slightly as the tension between them simmered. When her bra fell away, his gaze dropped to her exposed breasts, and a low groan rumbled in his chest. His flesh hand cupped her gently, his thumb brushing over her nipple in a slow, teasing motion.

“I loved how your uniform looked on you then,” he continued, his voice growing huskier as his metal hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her closer. “I still do. Every time I see you in it, it makes it hard to focus on anything else.”

His thumb continued its slow teasing, but then his expression shifted, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. His voice dropped, a hint of regret slipping into his words. “I wish I’d asked you out sooner. The old me… he would've handled this better. Would’ve known exactly how to...”

She cut him off before he could finish, her eyes fierce, her fingers threading through his hair as she pulled him closer. “Stop,” she said firmly, her voice soft but unwavering. “The moment of ‘what if’ has passed. I don't want the man you used to be.” Her lips brushed against his jaw, her breath hot against his skin. “I want you. Not someone I never knew.”

He closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them fixing his gaze on hers. She wasn’t looking for the version of him with the effortless charm and swagger. She never did. She wanted him, baggage, scars, and everything else.

A slow, shaky breath escaped him, his grip on her tightening as a flicker of vulnerability passed through his eyes. “You don’t know how much that means,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, his lips brushing against her jaw, then down to her neck. His movements were soft at first, but as her hands gripped his shoulders, urging him on, the hesitation melted away.

His mouth found hers again, kissing her hard, his hands moving with more confidence again. “I’ve wanted this... you,” he rasped, his breath hot against her skin. “For so damn long.” She responded with a moan, her body arching into him as he took full control.

Bucky groaned, unable to hold back any longer as the tension between them reached its peak. He gently shifted her off his lap, laying her down on the couch, his hands lingering on her hips for a moment before he stood. His breath was heavy, and though his chest tightened with familiar insecurities, especially about his arm, he pushed forward.

His fingers moved to the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. As the fabric fell to the floor, his eyes darted to her face, half-expecting some flicker of hesitation or doubt. Instead, her gaze roamed over him, dark with desire as her eyes took in the hard lines of his chest. “Damn... you’re perfect.” Her voice came out breath and soft. Swallowing hard, Bucky quickly slid his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion, kicking them aside. Now fully bare before her, he stood there, his chest rising and falling as her gaze lingered on him. He could see her eyes focused on his size, her lips parted as she let out a soft, breathless sound. The way she looked at him -no hesitation, only hunger- made his insecurities, the doubts about his scars, his arm, everything, to retract to a far corner of his mind.

Without a word, he climbed on top of her, positioning himself between her legs, their bodies pressed together, heat and tension coiling between them. His hands trailed down her sides, gripping her hips firmly as he pulled her closer. Slowly, he guided his cock to her slick entrance, teasing her folds as he coated his shaft with her wetness. A low, rumbling groan escaped his lips as he playfully rubbed the tip of his cock against her clit, the pressure sending jolts of pleasure through her.

Her body reacted instantly, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she writhed beneath him. “Bucky…” she moaned softly, her hips tilting up toward him, her body aching for more.

He moved slowly, sliding inside her inch by inch, and paused as soon as he was fully sheathed, giving her a moment to adjust. Her body clenched tightly around him, a gasp escaping her lips as her nails dug into his shoulders. Her breath came in shallow, uneven bursts, the sensation of him filling her completely overwhelming her. The tight heat of her body had him teetering on the edge, but he held back, determined to give her time.

He pulled back slightly, then pushed forward again, slowly and deliberately, testing her response. Her breath hitched, her thighs trembling around his hips with each thrust. She bit her lip, her eyes fluttering shut as she struggled to find her breath.

“Fuck, Bucky,” she whispered breathlessly, her voice barely audible but heavy with surprise and awe. “You’re… big. I’ve never... God!”

Her words sparked something deep within him, the mixture of vulnerability and pleasure igniting a fire he could barely contain. A low growl rumbled in his throat as his control began to slip. His hands moved to the back of her thighs, gripping them firmly just beneath her knees, then in one swift motion, he lifted her legs, spreading her wider as he started to thrust deeper, hitting spots that made her eyes fly open, a strangled moan escaping her lips. “Bucky… oh my God,” she gasped, her voice trembling as she struggled to take all of him.

Encouraged by her reaction, Bucky picked up the pace, his thrusts growing harder and faster, losing himself in the haze of lust that overtook him. He pulled her thighs higher, spreading her wider, driving into her with relentless force. Each thrust was deeper and rougher, and her moans quickly turned into desperate, breathless cries of pleasure.

The sound of her moans, the way she cried out his name, only fueled him further. “You like that?” he growled, his voice low and ragged as he thrust into her again, deeper, harder. Her slick heat gripped him tighter with every movement, making his pulse race. “Look at me, Doll. You like it rough?”

Her body arched beneath him, her hands scrambling for something to hold onto as the intensity of his thrusts tore through her. “Yes! Bucky… fuck! Don’t stop,” she moaned, her voice breaking as he kept his relentless, punishing pace.

“Oh, I won’t stop,” he growled, pulling out of her with a slick sound, only to flip her over onto her stomach in one swift motion. His hands gripped her hips roughly, pulling her ass up and positioning her on all fours before she had time to catch her breath.

Before she could process the shift, Bucky slammed back into her, filling her completely. She gasped, her fingers clutching at the couch cushions as he drove into her from behind, his pace unrelenting. “Is this what you wanted?” he rasped, his flesh hand sliding up her back before grabbing a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back slightly as his hips pistoned against her, thrusting deep and hard.

She let out a scream of pleasure, her body trembling as he pounded into her. “Yes! Oh God, yes,” she cried, her voice hoarse, her body helpless under his rough control.

Bucky grunted with each powerful thrust, his grip on her hair tightening, his metal hand digging into her hip, guiding her back onto him. The angle allowed him to go even deeper, kissing her cervix with every push of his hips. Her moans only spurred him on, the rhythm of their bodies frantic and primal, skin slapping against skin.

He released her hair and grabbed both her hips, yanking her back onto his cock with force, losing himself in the haze of lust. “Come for me,” he growled, his hand coming down on her ass with a sharp smack, making her gasp.

Before she could recover, his hand slid between her legs, his fingers finding her clit. He circled it with firm, deliberate pressure, his voice rough as he leaned over her, thrusting deeper still. “I want you to come all over me, Doll.” The moment his fingers found her swollen nub, her body responded, hips bucking involuntarily as her breath hitched. The pressure building inside her hit its peak, and with a loud, desperate moan, she shattered beneath him, her body trembling violently as she came hard.

The feel of her tight, wet heat spasming around him was too much for Bucky to handle. He let out a guttural moan, his hips slamming into her as his own release took hold. “Fuck,” he growled, his voice ragged as his body tensed, and he came hard, spilling thick, hot spurts into her. His hips jerked involuntarily with each wave of pleasure, the intensity of his orgasm hitting him harder than he’d expected. He gasped, his forehead falling to her back as he rode out the aftershocks, his cock pulsing inside her, still surrounded by the tight, wet heat of her body.

The sound of their heavy breathing filled the room, the intensity of their release leaving them trembling, their bodies slick with sweat. Bucky stayed inside her for a moment longer, his fingers lazily circling her clit, drawing out her pleasure as her body continued to spasm beneath him. But as the haze of bliss began to fade, his mind started to catch up with his body, and a flicker of doubt crept in. Had he been… too much?

Slowly, he withdrew from her, the cool air a stark contrast to the heat of their bodies. His hand slid up to her shoulder, gentle, almost tentative. “Are you okay?” His voice was low, uncertainty laced in every word.

She turned her head slightly, her cheek pressing into the cushion as her hooded eyes found his. “I’m better than okay,” she murmured. “That was... perfect, Buck.”

He exhaled, feeling the tension in his body ease, but his mind refused to quiet. What if she was trying to play it cool after being on the receiving end of nearly 80 years of pent-up frustration?

Sensing his unease, she shifted, sitting up on the couch. Her hands cradled his face, her thumbs gently brushing against his skin. He looked almost miserable for someone who had, minutes ago, been nothing short of a god of intercourse.

“You didn’t hurt me, Bucky,” she said, her voice firm yet warm. “I meant it when I said it was perfect. Stop overthinking. It was the best I’ve ever had.” Her cheeks flushed as she realized the weight of her words, but she didn’t back down. “I mean it,” she added, her voice softening as her gaze dropped for a moment, the blush deepening. “It really was the best I’ve ever had.”

The tension in his body slowly began to melt away as he absorbed her words, a flicker of relief washing over him. His breathing steadied, and the storm of doubts in his mind started to quiet. He looked down, feeling a pang of guilt for letting his insecurities creep in. Running a hand through his messy hair, he shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice low and sincere. “I didn’t mean to ruin the moment. I just... I get in my head sometimes.”

She gave him a gentle smile, her fingers brushing his scruffy cheek again. “You didn’t ruin anything, Bucky, not even close. If anything, the only thing you’ll have to atone for... is setting the bar pretty high.”

Bucky’s lips curved into a small, almost shy smile as her words sank in. He exhaled deeply, feeling the weight on his chest finally lift. Without saying anything, he reached up, his hand gently cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing softly over her skin in a silent gesture of gratitude.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence. The silence between them wasn’t empty; it was full of understanding, unspoken promises, and the certainty that, somehow, they were exactly where they were meant to be.

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

[solxamber]

Prologue: A Day Like No Other

This is the prologue for the 1k Event! It'll split into routes from here!

1k Masterlist

When you woke up that morning, you expected an ordinary day—classes, Grim stealing food from your tray, and maybe an explosion or two courtesy of Ace and Deuce. What you didn’t expect was for nearly every boy in the entire school to suddenly decide, out of nowhere, that they wanted to ask you out.

Riddle Rosehearts

He corners you right after class, red as a lobster, clutching a rulebook in one hand like it’s his lifeline. "I… I thought you might like to attend a formal tea ceremony with me this weekend. You have excellent posture, and I believe we would engage in delightful conversation."

He clears his throat and adjusts his collar. "Of course, I’ll have a list of acceptable topics for us to discuss."

You stare at him. He's shaking slightly.

"...Is this a date?"

His ears turn crimson. "It is not—" He exhales deeply. "Yes, it is. Please say yes."

Trey Clover

Trey smiles warmly as he approaches you after club activities. "Hey, I made a batch of tarts, and I thought we could eat them together. Just us. I mean... It’d be nice to spend time with you. Alone."

He rubs the back of his neck, trying not to look embarrassed. "And if you’d like, I could teach you how to bake something... Maybe, uh, something sweet?"

Cater Diamond

Cater pops out of nowhere, phone already in hand and pointed at you. "Yooo! Wanna go on a date with me? We could take tons of selfies, make Vil jealous, and trend under #CoupleGoals."

You blink at him.

"And hey," he adds with a wink, "if we get along, maybe I’ll tag you in my socials. Exclusive content, you know?"

Ace Trappola

"Okay, look," Ace says, leaning casually against the wall. "I’m not saying you should pick me over, like, Leona or Malleus or whoever—but I’m way more fun than those guys. C’mon, let’s go out. I’ll buy you ice cream. Two scoops."

He wiggles his eyebrows. "You know you want to."

Deuce Spade

Deuce looks nervous but determined, like he’s psyching himself up for a boxing match. "I—I know I’m not the smoothest guy around, but I really like spending time with you! And if you’ll go out with me, I promise I’ll… I’ll be a perfect gentleman. Or at least, uh, I’ll try to be."

Leona Kingscholar

Leona, as usual, doesn’t even try to sugarcoat it. "Come nap with me."

"Is that your idea of a date?"

He shrugs. "You don’t seem like the type to want fancy dinners. This is less effort. Plus, I sleep better when you’re there."

Ruggie Bucchi

"Heyyyy," Ruggie grins, tugging on your sleeve. "How ‘bout you and me hit the town? I know a place that gives out free meals if you pretend to be engaged. C’mon, it’ll be fun!"

Jack Howl

Jack frowns, clearly struggling with the words. "I’m not great at this stuff, but... If you want, we could run together sometime? Or, uh, go on a walk?"

He glances away, ears twitching. "It’d be nice. With you."

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul adjusts his glasses, smiling like he’s just sealed the most important business deal of his life. "It would be an honor to escort you to a dinner at Mostro Lounge. Of course, all expenses will be covered. Consider it... an exclusive arrangement."

Jade Leech

Jade leans in just a little too close, that unsettling smile plastered on his face. "I believe we would have an interesting time exploring the woods together. Perhaps we’ll discover some mushrooms... or each other’s secrets?"

Floyd Leech

Floyd swings an arm over your shoulder, grinning ear to ear. "Oi, let’s go somewhere fun! If anyone bothers us, I’ll squish ‘em."

"Floyd, is this a date?"

"Obviously! Hehe, you're stuck with me now, Shrimpy."

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim’s eyes sparkle with excitement. "Wanna come to a party? It’ll be huge! And afterward, we can ride my magic carpet under the stars!"

You barely have time to respond before he’s already planning an itinerary.

Jamil Viper

Jamil sighs, looking like he’s regretting this already. "If Kalim hasn’t dragged you off yet… would you like to grab lunch? Somewhere quiet, where I won’t have to babysit anyone."

Vil Schoenheit

Vil regards you with a calculating smile. "We could attend an opera together. Or a fashion show, if you prefer. You have potential, you know. I wouldn’t mind refining it."

Rook Hunt

"Ah, mon trésor!" Rook exclaims, dramatic as ever. "It would be a delight to hunt for beauty with you! A picnic in the forest, perhaps? Under the moonlight, where all things enchanting dwell."

Epel Felmier

Epel grins mischievously. "Wanna go smash stuff?"

"...That’s your idea of a date?"

"Yup." He winks. "You in or what?"

Idia Shroud

Idia looks like he’s on the verge of fainting. "So, uh... I-I heard there’s this new game releasing. M-maybe we could play it together? Or not. Forget I asked."

Before you can respond, Ortho pops up cheerfully. "Say yes! My brother’s been practicing this for weeks!"

Malleus Draconia

Malleus looms over you, an almost shy smile on his face. "I would be honored if you would accompany me on a stroll through the gardens. There are many things I wish to show you... and, perhaps, learn from you as well."

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia grins, his fangs glinting in the light. "How about a little mischief together? We could visit an amusement park or play pranks on the first years. Either way, I guarantee it’ll be memorable!"

Silver

Silver, looking half-asleep, gives you a soft smile. "If you’d like, we could... I don’t know. Sit under a tree and talk. Or just... exist, I guess. As long as it’s with you."

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek stands stiffly, as if on the verge of saluting. "I would like to take you to dinner! Not that it matters to me, of course! But it would be... logical for us to spend time together. As comrades!"

Rollo Flamme

Rollo catches you alone, adjusting his pristine cuffs with his usual air of seriousness. “I dislike crowds, so I will be brief,” he says, voice as even as his posture. “Would you like to accompany me to a quiet tea house? I find your company... less intolerable than most.”

You blink at him.

He clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “Consider it a date.” Then, after a pause, he quickly adds, “If you wish, of course.”

His ears are red, but he refuses to meet your gaze, determined to keep his dignity intact.

And just like that, you find yourself drowning in invitations. Your phone buzzes with reminders from Ortho ("Don't forget to reply to my brother!") and Epel’s laughter rings in your ears. Ace and Deuce whisper ominously about Riddle’s wrath.

Leona, meanwhile, lazily waves from the other end of the hall. "Pick whoever you want. If it's not me, just don’t wake me up."

So...

Who will it be?

1k Event Masterlist (Go here for routes)

Main Masterlist

[tootiecakes234]

“Hey Katsuki”, you scream from the your bedroom.

“What” he yells back at you from somewhere else in the house.

“Where ya at?”

“In the game room.”

So you get up and head that way. When you enter he’s sat in his gaming chair with his headset on.

“Hey bub…. Hey guys” you say loud enough to be heard through his headset.

“Yea yea. They all said hey.” You knew Kirishima and Kaminari were on the other end. Maybe even Mina too cuz she wasn’t texting you back.

“Kit-Kat, I’m getting hungry. Do you know what sounds really good for dinner?”

“What?” he questions without taking his eyes off the screen.

You walk behind him and slide your arms around his neck and nuzzle into the back of his head. You’re trying to butter him up because you know he’s not gonna wanna make what you’re craving.

“You remember those dumplings you made from scratch a while ago?” You ask with your voice dripping in as much sweetness you can muster.

“No.”

“No you don’t remember or no you’re-“

And he interrupt you before you can even finish. “No im not cooking that. There are frozen dumplings in the fridge.”

“But Sukiiiiii, those aren’t as good as the ones you make. The flavors aren’t the same and yours are so crispy and doughy. Pleaaasseee.”

“Hey you assholes shut the hell up. No ones talking to you.” He responds to his friends in the headset. “You want her to have ‘em, bring your ass over and make ‘em”

“I’m not doing this. You idiots hold on.” And he pauses the game and turns around to face you and removes his head set.

“Look we can order takeout if you want, but I’m not about to make freakin dumplings from scratch cuz you have a craving. I’d have to go to the store and get ingredients and taking the time to make the wrappings. ‘S too much.” He tries to explain to you in a rational way .

“I knooowww…. I’d go to the store with you though and I’ll help you make them…. Pretty please” you whine and stick you lowere lip out just a little with your eyes as pleading as you can make them.

Katsuki rolls his eyes and throws his head back.

“You don’t get whatever you want just because you pout at me. Spoiled ass. Not today. Maybe sometime later this week.”

You didn’t actually think he’d tell you no. He usually never does. Maybe you are spoiled. Still makes you sad though.

So you put on your big girl pants, tuck your lip back in and give him a soft “ok” before you lean down and press a soft kiss to his lips so he knows you’re not upset with him.

He is allowed to say no.

“Is Mina on the game with you guys?” You ask him when you pull back.

“Yeah she is.”

“When you get back on can you tell her to stop being a bitch and answer my phone call. I have tea to spill.”

“I’ll tell her.”

And with that you head toward the door and leave.

Once you’re back in your room it takes Mina about 3 minutes to call you and you start catching her up on everything.

You guys stay on the phone for about 30 minutes before she has to go.

After that, you bury yourself in the blankets and start reading the manga you had lying on your nightstand.

Before you can really get into it, Katsuki is walking into your room and going into the closet.

“Get your ass outta bed and get dressed before I change my goddamn mind.”

“What?” You ask because now you’re confused.

“You said you were gonna go to the store with me to buy all this shit so get your ass up and let’s go.”

“Kats you don’t have to, it’s fine.”

“Look ya spoiled brat, if I gotta tell you to get up one more time we are gonna be in here fightin.”

And the smile that breaks out on your face. You hurry and get outta bed and rush him. “Awwwww my sweet boy”

“I swear to god, I’m this close to letting your ass starve.”

And you wrap your arms around him and start kissing everywhere on his face. When you pulled away he has a deep frown on his face but you can see the sparkle in his eyes that he gets when you’re super happy.

You pull away and scurry off to get dressed.

He really needs to start saying no to you and meaning it before you really lose the understanding of the word.

Katsuki Masterlist

Tags: @dreamcastgirl99

*if you want to be added to the tag list, let me know💕

[clockwayswrites]

Oh Birb Part 11

Masterpost

Next Thursday. Alright, Danny could do next Thursday. He still didn’t know how he had gotten invited to Cassandra Wayne’s dance recital, but sure enough there was a link to a ticket and the event information in his email the next morning.

He was just checking in on work real quickly before he left for the Far Frozen. Or maybe he was putting off the trip for as long as he could. Danny knew that he had to go see Frostbite, but he was afraid of what answers the yeti might have. Or, worse, the answers that Frostbite didn’t have.

Danny didn’t know what would really be worse.

‘You are on vacation, Mr. Fenton.’ Popped up in Danny’s Slack and he rolled his eyes. Of course Lucius was keeping an eye on him.

‘Just checking on things before I leave.’ Danny replied. ‘I’ll be off for the next five days, promise.’

‘That better be true.’

He would have much choice, his current phone wouldn’t work in the zone.

Danny refreshed his inbox one last time before he turned his tablet off and tucked away in the basket next to the couch. Fridge emptied of anything that would spoil, trash taken out, far too many plants watered… Danny was out of excuses.

“Going ghost,” he grumbled with a sigh. He didn’t really need to say that part out loud anymore, not after all these years, but sometimes it just made it easier. A sense of bitter, binding cold washed over him. It was like breathing ice. The shards stabbed at his lungs, choked his air, killed him— and then it was gone. It was all gone. His breath, his heart beat, the pull of gravity, the ache in his bones… his life.

Danny breathed out a breath he didn’t have and let himself drift up a few inches into the air. At least he didn’t hurt. For now. Returning to his body after this trip was going to be miserable. That was a later him problem, right then Danny just enjoyed being weightless. He breathed in and out, letting his body relax from the top of his head to his toes and all the way out to the tips of his wings.

Wait. His what now?

Danny’s fit hit the ground hard. He scrambled his way over to the long mirror titled against the wall by the door. And froze.

Wings.

Those were… those were wings.

Massive black wings with spots of white on the outside and more white on the inside. There was a slightly iridescent sheen to them as he twisted and turned to try and get a look at them.

They were. He had… okay. He had wings as Phantom now. Wings that were definitely like he had seen in the videos when he was that bird thing. Danny ran his fingers over his face, wincing as his finger tips caught a little. His taloned fingertips. That’s great he was turning into a bird.

Cheep cheep, motherfucker, Danny thought hysterically.

He had been expecting a midlife crisis as he approached forty, but turning into a bird wasn’t how he thought it would go!

He needed to get to the Far Frozen. He needed answers. He needed Frostbite to have answers. Focusing on the concept of the Far Frozen, Danny dragged a clawed finger through the air, tearing a hole in reality.

The portal glowed a noxious green.

Danny took a breath and flew through it.

---

AN: I polled the HH discord if Phantom should have wings or not and it was unanimously 'yes' so! Poor Danny, having such a panic!

Can you believe we're up to 4 chapters now for this silliness?

Stay delightful, darlings.

[luveline]

Hi!! Sometimes in ur bombshell reader fics she talks about how she has nervous energy would u ever write a bombshell reader fic where she has one of those days where she just woke up wired and Spencer tries to calm her down?

“Spencer,” you whisper. 

“What?” 

Spencer turns another page. You, across from him with your legs crossed, slouched, poke at his leg gently with your foot. “What are you reading?” 

“It’s just a book on Wyoming land boundaries.” 

You nod. Spencer watches you from across the top of his book, at first without worry, and then an attentiveness that furthers all the reasons you may or may not be in love with him. 

“You okay?” 

Everything should be fine. The case is solved. You’re heading home, without turbulence, two hours at most from touching down after a job well done. “I’m fine.” 

“You sure?” he asks. 

You smile fraughtly. You try your best to be the perfect image, to put that best foot forward, and you nail it ninety nine days out of a hundred. Nobody knows about your nervousness besides you, and that’s how you’d like it to stay, but Spencer clearly cares about you too much to look away. 

He closes his book and sets in on the table, pushing a glass into his hand. “Here,” he says, leaning forward. “It’s not poisoned.” 

You take it. Feeling his gaze, you drink a little sip that immediately goes down the wrong way. Your coughing swallow perturbs him worse. 

People tend to look at Spencer and see someone who needs more help. Even the people closest to him can doubt his ability, but as far as you’re concerned he’s proven to understand emotion quite well. He won’t shake a stranger's hand, he can’t flirt to save his life without notice, but he can make you feel better. He’s good at taking care of you, even if nobody else can see it. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, leaning right over to touch both your knees at once. He pushes your skirt up a half inch with the movement, but his eyes are on your face. “You have the jitters?” 

“Think so,” you murmur. 

“Maybe it’s the air pressure.” 

You’re sure he knows you get like this sometime, but his explanation is kind. His hands on your knees are somehow strangely placed and still a natural feeling. Just like sitting together at his place to watch TV, or elbow to elbow on the train into New York, your boundaries with one another are eroding. 

“Wanna come and sit by me?” he asks, like he’s thinking the same thing. 

You laugh softly. “In all that space?” 

The seat is big enough for a larger person, but not you and Spencer together. 

He squeezes himself right to the side. “Come on,” he insists, sitting back, “just sit with me.” 

“I’ll squish you.” 

“So squish me.”

You think about it before setting your traded glass down. You don’t know why you have these weird moods, you don’t understand what it is about Spencer that can make them feel better, but he’s offering to make it go away. You have no real reason to turn him down. 

In the end, you sit in the chair beside him, ignoring Hotch’s perturbed look as you stand and then quickly plop yourself down at Spencer’s side. Your thigh has to go completely on top of his, but otherwise, it’s not so bad. It’s more room than you thought. 

It works quicker than you could imagine. With both of your heads held back the space between you is still minimal, which means his face is in detail. His hair brushed back and with the barest traces of gel, a little curled, what had Hotch said? His boyband hair.  

Spencer turns toward you, eye shadowed as he presses his forehead to the chair. “Is it just jitters?” he asks. 

“Sometimes I think I get… weird,” you say. 

“Me too.” He pulls your leg further into his lap. You’re shocked at first, but it’s a friendly move that takes the strain off of your knee. “Can I tell you something?” 

“Of course you can.” 

“I’ve started to care a whole lot less about being weird since I met you.” 

You fight the urge to touch his hair. “I don’t think it’s about caring, Spence, I just.. don’t feel right.” 

“Okay.” He nods sincerely. “Okay, well, we can work it out. We’re still hours from Virginia, you can turn your brain off. We can work it out.” 

You’re relieved to have him promise it. This isn’t the sort of thing you can work out, but it doesn’t matter, Spencer caring this much makes all the difference. You take a deep, deep breath, and you give him a grateful smile, before you rest your cheek on his shoulder. That’s just wanting, no weird feeling or jittering at the root of you as he lets a warm breath kiss your forehead, his nose pressing into your skin. 

“Don’t let anybody see,” you mumble. 

His next breath is a little shaky. “I won’t.”

See what, you’re not sure. But soon you start to feel less like you’re gonna try popping open an emergency window, and that’s enough for now. 

[hoshifighting]

hii can you plsss do college fling!joshua too (with smut if you like!) thank you <3

warnings: smut, dorm-kitchen counter sex, clit stimulation, penetrative sex, dirty talk, teasing.

college fling!joshua’s definitely not the type to be found at some wild frat party, shirt half-buttoned, shouting about shots. he’s more… chill. like, you can see him with a small group of people, maybe talking about some obscure trivia fact or just hanging back with his guitar, strumming casually. and you notice him in those quiet corners, head down, minding his business, but when people need help, he’s there, no hesitation. just this soft smile, eyes that look like they’ve got their own glow. no front, no ego.

it’s karaoke night when you really notice him, though. one of those lowkey, “organized by the student council” kinda nights, where everyone’s already a little awkward, shifting in their seats, waiting for someone to break the ice. and there’s joshua, sitting off to the side, fingers tapping lightly against his leg to the beat of some old song. you’re not even surprised when the karaoke machine starts acting up, some tech issue, because of course, it would. you glance over at joshua, who's already looking around for someone to fix the damn thing. you try messing with the settings on the machine yourself, but the screen flashes error messages, and honestly, you just wanna punch the damn thing. you groan under your breath, “seriously? i’m not dealing with this shit right now.”

“need a hand?” joshua’s voice pulls you out of your frustration, and you turn to see him standing there, that soft smile of his doing most of the talking. like he’s amused at your mini-meltdown but too nice to say it.

“yeah, this thing’s giving me hell.” you lean back, giving up for a second, hands raised like you’re surrendering to the machine. “you know anything about fixing this?”

“nah, but i can try,” he says, stepping in a little closer. and you can smell him—fresh, like he doesn’t even have to try. just naturally… clean, if that’s a thing. his fingers brush the buttons, the machine beeping a little, but still refusing to cooperate. he chuckles under his breath. “guess it’s not in the mood.”

you smirk, feeling the tension ease a little with him around. “yeah, technology’s a bitch sometimes.”

“always.” he laughs, this soft, almost shy sound, but then his gaze lands on the guitar sitting by the stage. “y’know… if this thing’s not working, we could just do it old-school.”

you raise a brow, curious. “old-school? like… live music?”

he nods, picking up the guitar like it’s second nature to him. “yeah, i mean… it’s karaoke night, right? we’ll make our own music.” there’s something about the way he says it, all easy and laid-back, that makes you wanna go along with it. he’s not pushy, but you feel pulled in by his vibe. the room’s already a bit more relaxed, people chatting amongst themselves, so you shrug and sit back on one of the chairs in front of the stage. “alright, hit me with your best shot.”

he laughs, adjusting the guitar strap, and then strums a few chords, testing the waters. it’s a familiar tune, something simple and nostalgic, and he hums along softly, almost like he’s figuring out the right words to sing. and when he finally starts, his voice is buttery smooth, like it was made to just slip into your ears and settle in. it’s not showy, not overly polished, just nice. like something you didn’t know you needed until you heard it. you can’t help but watch him, a little too closely maybe, as his fingers move over the strings, his body swaying a little with the rhythm. his eyes flick up to yours, and for a split second, it’s like the room disappears. there’s just you and him, and this stupid little connection through music. cheesy as hell just like the barbie's movie says, but it’s there.

“you wanna sing along?” he asks, like he’s already expecting you to say no, but he’s hopeful anyway.

you bite your lip, half-laughing. “if i do, i’ll ruin the vibe.”

he tilts his head, amused. “nah, you won’t. c’mon, what’s your go-to song?”

you hesitate, feeling a little exposed, but then screw it. if joshua can stand up there and casually play a whole damn song in front of people, you can at least join him. you mutter the name of some old song, and before you know it, he’s playing the first chords. you start singing, a little unsure at first, but his guitar backs you up, makes you feel more confident.

and it’s weird, ‘cause it’s so not what you expected to be doing tonight—singing a duet with joshua hong of all people. but here you are, the two of you vibing, making the room your own little bubble for a while.

after a while, you stop caring if anyone else is even paying attention. it’s just fun, and you’re actually enjoying yourself, which… yeah, is rare for these kinds of school-organized things.

“see? not so bad, right?” he says, a little breathless, guitar still in his hands.

“yeah, i guess that wasn’t too bad,” you admit, feeling your face heat up a little.

and just like that, you’re kinda hooked. you don’t even know why, but there’s something about how easy it is with him. he’s not forcing anything, just letting shit happen, and it’s fun. more fun than you’ve had in a while, honestly. “thanks for, uh… saving karaoke night,” you say, trying not to sound as flustered as you feel.

he shrugs, smile never leaving his face. “anytime. but, um… maybe next time, we won’t need the machine at all.”

and there it is again, that little spark of something—like he’s leaving the door open for whatever comes next. not pushing, not expecting. just waiting to see if you’re gonna step through.

you smile back at him, feeling your heart beat just a little faster. “yeah… maybe.”

college fling!joshua that would approach you with his shy ass in the hallway like it wasn’t a big deal, but it was. ‘cause he wasn’t the type to just walk up to someone and invite them over. you weren’t expecting it either. but there he was, scratching the back of his neck, trying to play it casual like it didn’t take him a full two minutes to get the words out.

“uh… i’m having a few friends over on friday. you know, snacks, music, nothing crazy. you should come.”

you remember his smile, that little tilt of his lips that had your stomach flipping like you’d already said yes before your brain could process. and obviously, you agreed.

so friday night rolls around, and you’re standing in front of his dorm in this fresh little dress you threw on last minute. not like you’re trying to impress him or anything, but you catch the way his eyes drop the second you step in. joshua’s trying to keep it together, but you can feel his gaze like a burn, lingering on your legs before he quickly looks away. there’s this subtle hitch in his breath when he greets you, and his cheeks turn a little pink, but he pulls himself back into being the polite, nice guy he is.

his dorm’s small but neat, smelling like fresh laundry and some subtle citrus scent from the diffusers he’s got stashed in the corners. there’s a few of his friends scattered around, all of them chill, chatting over music that’s playing just loud enough to vibe to. joshua’s close-knit group, not the party type, exactly what you expected. he’s quick to make sure you’ve got everything—“you want a drink? water? soda?”—and then asks if you need a blanket when he notices your legs.

“you good? it’s a bit chilly, i can grab something if you want.”

you almost laugh at how hard he’s trying to be respectful, like the thought of your legs exposed is messing with him more than he’s willing to admit. but you shake your head, leaning back on the couch with your drink and teasing him a little. “i’m fine, joshua. don’t worry.”

he gives you this awkward smile like he’s low-key relieved, but you see him still trying to fight his instincts to look.

after a couple of hours, his friends head out, leaving the place a little messy—empty cups and snack wrappers scattered on the table. you’re quick to start picking things up, despite joshua’s protests.

“seriously, you don’t have to clean up. i got it.”

but you insist, throwing away trash and stacking cups, and before you know it, it’s just the two of you alone in his small dorm. the quiet settles in, just the low hum of music in the background, and you notice how much more intense it feels without anyone else around. joshua’s hovering by the window, glancing out towards the campus, and then he shuts it without saying anything, locking the latch with this quiet click.

“just in case,” he mutters to himself, not looking at you.

you’re leaning against the counter now, arms crossed, watching him. there’s something in the way he’s moving slower. like he’s waiting for you to make the next move. but you don’t, ‘cause part of you wants to see where he’ll take it.

joshua turns, finally meeting your eyes again, and it’s different this time. there’s no one else here, no distractions, and he’s got that nervous energy radiating off him. “thanks for, uh, staying to help,” he says, his voice softer now, stepping a little closer.

“no problem.” you smile, and it’s so obvious what’s happening, but neither of you is calling it out.

he’s standing in front of you now, closer than he was before, eyes flicking between yours and then down to your lips. it’s subtle, but you catch it, and it’s like that’s all the signal you needed. your heart’s racing, but you stay calm, lifting your chin just slightly as if daring him to do something.

and he does.

slowly, almost like he’s scared to break the moment, joshua reaches out, one hand finding your waist, his fingers hesitant at first. then he pulls you in, just enough that there’s barely any space left between your bodies. you feel the warmth of him, and when he leans down, his breath ghosts over your lips.

you can tell he’s thinking about it—overthinking, probably—because he pauses, eyes searching yours, like he’s waiting for you to stop him. but you don’t. instead, you close the gap, brushing your lips against his. he lets out this shaky breath, and suddenly his hands are on you, one cupping your face, the other steadying your waist. he deepens the kiss, slow but knowing, like he’s taking pleasure in every second. his lips are warm, soft, but there’s this need in the way he moves.

your hands find their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. he responds by pressing you back against the counter, not forceful, but enough that you can feel the solidness of his body, everything intensifying.

“is this… okay?” he mumbles against your lips, his voice low and breathless, and you swear the way he asks, so fucking polite in the middle of a heated kiss, makes you want to open your legs for him even more.

“yeah, joshua,” you whisper back, pulling him in tighter.

his lips are still on yours, but there’s nothing sweet about the way he’s kissing you anymore. “turn around.” your breath catches because the tone’s different. he’s not asking now, he’s telling, and the sudden deep voice is doing things to you. so you turn around, heart racing, hands bracing yourself against the counter. you feel his body press up behind yours, and his hand, slides down your waist, squeezing, as he grinds into you. it’s slow, teasing, and already you can feel how hard he is through his jeans.

“fuck, joshua…” the words come out in a breathy gasp, ‘cause honestly? you didn’t expect this from him—not the shy guy who asked you to his dorm like it was some casual hangout.

“sorry,” he breathes out, lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. “can’t… fuck, i can’t help it.”

you let out a shaky breath, trying to stay steady, but he’s not giving you the chance. his other hand comes up, gently pushing your back down until you’re bent over the small counter, ass pressed right up against him. you’re not even sure how it escalated this quickly, but fuck, you’re not complaining.

then you feel him, fingers brushing against the hem of your dress, pulling it up to expose more skin, and his hand lands firmly on your ass. not too hard, just enough to make you gasp, your body arching a little further into him. “you okay?” his voice comes out breathy, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s fighting to hold back. and before you can even respond, he’s slipping a hand between your legs, fingers ghosting over your clothed heat, and you swear you hear him let out this needy ass moan, “fuck, you’re already so wet.”

you nod, holding back a whimper, pushing back into him for more. but he doesn’t rush it. his fingers slip under the fabric, pressing right where you need him, just enough to make you moan, and he chuckles—this soft, wicked sound that makes your skin burn.

“such a good girl for me, hm?” he mutters, his breath hot against your ear now as his fingers start rubbing slow, lazy circles over your clit. he’s not just pressing down; he’s moving in these subtle little zig-zags, shaking his fingers side to side, making your legs shake from how fast they are. it’s like he knows exactly how to drive you wild, how to get you off, without giving you too much too soon.

you whimper, your back arching even more as his other hand slides up your back, then gently wraps around your throat. and it’s not hard, not really, but just the feel of his fingers there makes your mind go blank, and you moan, “joshua, please.”

“please, what?” he whispers against your ear, and his voice is so soft, so sweet, but his fingers on your clit are ruthless, moving faster now, leaving you sensitive enough so you can feel every inch of him after. “you gotta tell me what you want sweetheart.”

you let out a desperate moan, pushing back against him, “i need you to fuck me, joshua.”

you can feel him tense up behind you, and he curses under his breath, hands moving quickly now, yanking your panties down. his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you back as he fumbles with his belt, and you’re so on edge. the second you hear the metal clink of his belt hitting the floor, you’re already bracing yourself, because you can feel it—the way he’s lined up behind you, the head of his cock brushing against your entrance, teasing you, driving you insane.

he pushes in slow at first, but you can feel how fucking hard he is, stretching you open inch by inch, and it’s so much, so thick that you have to bite your lip to keep from crying out. and joshua’s not saying anything, but his breathing’s ragged, and he lets out this low, drawn-out moan, like he’s trying to hold it in but can’t help himself.

“f-fuck,” he groans, his hips pushing in deeper until he’s fully inside you. he pauses there for a second, like he’s savoring the way you feel wrapped around him, and you hear this desperate little “ahh!” leave his lips, his head falling forward onto your shoulder.

and you? you’re clenching around him, your body so fucking desperate for more. you try to move, but his grip tightens on your hips, holding you still. “no— fuck, no” he mutters. “lemme just… ngh.. fuck, you feel so good.”

then he starts moving, almost like he’s teasing you, his hips rolling into you in these deep, measured thrusts. but it’s not enough—you need more, and you try to push back against him, but he’s got you locked in place, his hand still around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure that has you gasping.

“joshua, please, more. i n-eed more!” you beg, words sounding more like a whimper.

his grip on your throat tightens just a little, his fingers flexing as he starts thrusting harder, rougher, his cock slamming into you with this wet, filthy sound that has you both moaning. his hips snap into yours, relentless now, and he’s fucking you like he wants to be engraved on your mind.the polite, careful joshua you thought you knew is missing, replaced by someone who’s desperate to ruin you.

he leans forward, his lips right against your ear as he groans, “you like this, huh? you like how i fuck you? hm? can you feel how your pussy 's swallowing my cock?”

and you can’t even speak at this point, just a mess of moans and gasps, your hands gripping the counter so hard that your knuckles hurt. all you can do is nod, your body trembling with every hard thrust, your clit throbbing as his hips grind into you.

then his hand leaves your throat and slides down between your legs again, fingers finding your clit, rubbing those same zigzagging from earlier, but this time faster. your legs nearly buckle, a scream leaving your throat and you're sure he's going to have a problem with his dorm neighbours later, and he’s moaning in your ear now, his breath hot against your skin, “you’re so fucking tight, i’m not gonna last long.”

you’re shaking, so fucking close, and you can feel him getting sloppier, his thrusts losing rhythm. his fingers press harder against your clit, now moving in these frantic little circles that make your body explode with pleasure.

“cum for me,” he groans, his voice all breathy and wrecked. “c’mon, baby, i wanna feel you cum around my cock. wet me all over, come on…”

your orgasm hits you before you can even take another breath, your whole body contorting as you cry out, legs tremulous beneath you. you clench around him so tight, and joshua lets out this filthy moan—“oh fuck”—his hips slamming into you one last time before he’s spilling inside you, groaning loud as he rides out his orgasm.

he’s the first to move, pulling out slowly, nearly timidly, and you hear him mutter something under his breath—probably apologizing, because of course he is. you push yourself up from the counter, your legs still shaking, and turn to face him. his cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess, and there’s this sheepish, almost embarrassed look on his face, like he can’t believe what just happened.

he smiles, a little shy but still clearly proud of himself. and then, just like that, he’s back to being the joshua you know—sweet, considerate, polite—offering you a towel and asking if you’re thirsty again, like he didn’t just fuck you into oblivion against the counter.

[mywritersmind]

SIX TIMES TOO MANY (OR JUST ENOUGH?) - LN4

summary : in which the universe can’t seem to stop bugging you. six times when people thought of you and lando as more than childhood friends.

listen up : no warnings!! childhood friends! sometimes genuis just strikes🤷🏻‍♀️ requests for kimi franco and lando are open!!

word count : 820

⋆｡‧˚⋆

The first time it happened, you had laughed it off in a drunken haze of excitement.

“You and Lando!” Your best friend squealed, “You two hooked up, didn’t you!?” she hit your arm playfully, the biggest grin on her face as yours mirrored the opposite.

“Lando and I? No way!” You shook your head rapidly just as he danced up to the two of you, a drink in hand.

He spun you around and laughed in your ear and slurring his words as your friend gave a curious look.

The second time was an older woman complimenting you and Lando on the street, saying how lovely of a couple you were. Lando had laughed it off with ease.

The third time was far more embarrassing, a young fan had asked Lando to sign his cap and as he did, the kid grinned at you and whispered, “Don’t worry! I won’t tell anyone you’re in love!” He had skipped away after making your jaw drop.

Why did everyone think you were a couple? It was ridiculous and out of reach. You and Lando had been best friends since childhood, besides your first kiss, nothing had ever happened.

You weren’t blind, he was attractive. You just chose to ignore the way he mindlessly changed in front of you and how his curls fell in his face. You chose to not think about him winning a race, sweaty and exhausted, falling right into your arms as he whispered his thanks to you for just being there.

The fourth time someone mentioned it, it was your own bloody mother. She had liked a photo you sent of your group on vacation, replying with “Oh! You and Lando are just the sweetest. Open your eyes, love.”

It was mortifying, especially in public. It made things odd with Lando, after someone would mention it, he started to act squirmy.

He almost always had some sort of girlfriend, though he claimed he didn’t date.

The fifth time was by far the worst.

“I get it!” Your boyfriend had scoffed in your face, “I’ll always come second to him!” You had such a headache from trying to break things off with him that his last statement might as well have split your skull open.

“Him?”

“Norris! Just admit you’re ending things with me to be with him!” He stood up, paced the room, “I’m such an idiot.”

“What- That’s not the reason!”

“Sure! God Y/n you’ve always been drooling for him!” What the hell?

It was your turn to scoff, “Fuck you! I’m sorry you can’t imagine why anyone would break up with your dumbass but we’re done because I don’t fancy you like you do me! Don’t blame my friend.”

“Sure. ‘Friend’. Go cry to him.”

The sixth was the one to change everything.

“I never realized!” Max Fewtrell laughed with you, drinks in hand and leaning against the bar.

“Realized what?” You raised a brow, sipping your drink.

“Lando’s in love with you!” you almost spit out your drink, “I mean- I always figured he had a hard on for you but shit… he’s totally whipped!”

He’s drunk, you reminded yourself.

“Shut up Max.” It wasn’t funny anymore.

“I’m serious, Y/n!” He shook his head, turning towards Lando who was looking bored with a girl next to him, “He hasn’t gotten with anyone for months! That’s saying something! He talks about you all the time and fuck have you not noticed the way he looks at you?”

The way he looks at you? How could you not notice?

He does it just then, turning his head to face you two but keeping those magnetic eyes on you. His previous bored expression was gone instantly, a smirk gracing his face as his eyes stayed on yours. It practically made your heart skip a beat.

“Oh.” Is all you can manage before Lando looks back to the girl.

“I’m just saying… maybe all those times you complain about- when people think you’re a couple or would be perfect together, maybe they’re a sign.” Max gives you one last knowing look before his spot is replaced with Lando.

He leans against the bar in a lazy fashion, looking tired yet all his energy is focused on you, “Having a good night?” His voice- fuck that voice.

His voice which haunted your nightmares and fuled your fantasies.

“A weird one, definitely.” you laugh but it’s not really funny, Lando gives you a concerned look.

“You wanna leave?” and when he says it, you know he’d come with. You know he’d go anywhere for you.

“No.” You shake your head, looking up at the brunette and feeling your breath ragged and unfocused. You swallow, then smile, “Let’s dance.”

A grin breaks out on his face as you slip your hand in his, “Anything you want, Y/n.”

[cloudwisp]

𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 · 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐬

contents: fluff. satoru makes sweet promises about the future with you. 800 wc.

“What would you say if I retired today?”

The words left his mouth so easily—like they’re one of the many frivolous musings that comes and goes, an afterthought when the shared laughter and playful teasing had died down a bit. Behind his loose grin, Satoru carefully studies your face as he weighs the question in your mind, as though they bear no consequence and he wants to hear your answer no matter how serious or unserious he’s being.

“Retire…” You drawl thoughtfully, “You mean put your sorcerer work behind you?” You more than readily welcome the idea than you let on, it’s all you can think about sometimes and keeps you awake at night. You knew about the dangers and the shortcomings that his lifestyle posed, but your love for him outweighs the troubles and the fears and the risks that come with loving someone like him—that is Satoru Gojo.

Not the Strongest Sorcerer, the leader of something, just a normal person who has a fondness for the sweeter things and never lets good humor go to waste if he could help it. If he truly decided to retire from now onwards he won’t have to participate in another dangerous mission again, no more of those dreadful overseas assignments that keeps you both apart for long stretches of time, and you could get used to knowing that he gets to come home to you every night.

“Well, okay. I suppose I could become the breadwinner for once.”

Satoru lets out a pleased laugh. His arm that encircled your waist tightens as he squeezes you with great affection, receiving a small oof from you and quick gentle pats of surrender before he crushes your lungs. He’s sitting on an abundance of wealth for the both of you to lead a comfortable life, and you’re cute for worrying about finances in the foreseeable future. Maybe he doesn’t spoil his precious sweetheart far enough, he thinks.

“I guess you’ll need to work triple time in order to afford my expensive taste.” He teases, pinching your cheek between his fingers. “We can be a dynamic duo. You can work while I stay home.” He mutters softly, letting his hand settle against the nape of your neck while his thumb brushes against your cheek. “Would I be a good househusband?”

“You’d be awful.” You were a little quick to say, almost shuddering at the thought. He feigns a hurt expression with the slightest furrow to his brows and an adorable pout lines his lips. He had an affinity for sweets as shown in your fully stocked pantry but navigating the rest of the kitchen would cause quite an upheaval despite his best efforts. “Maybe at first anyway.”

“You think I won’t be able to clean or cook properly?” Satoru complains dramatically, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and shoulder. You attempt to push him away between your giggles as the ends of his hair tickles you and he gently nips away at your skin, but his large build unsurprisingly wouldn’t budge. He lays a light kiss here and there shortly after, his voice lowering into a playful whisper. “Giving up on me already, huh? Too bad, that was your only chance of seeing me in an apron~”

Satoru comes up to meet your gaze and he catches your lips for a sweet taste, the warmth of his body sinking into yours and your arms wrap around him to bring him in a little deeper. “Are you saying I wouldn’t be able to control myself around you if I came home to you wearing an apron?” It was your turn to pinch his cheeks fondly and you consider something. “But it’s a nice thought—you wanting to lead a different life.”

“I want to make you a promise,” he begins slowly, and there’s a beautiful look behind his cerulean hues filled with just pure adoration and love that’s reserved only for you. “When my time comes and I’m ready to call it quits, I’ll retire with you by my side. We’ll move somewhere peaceful and quiet—as secluded as you like. We could even travel the world if that's what my baby wishes, just the two of us.”

“That’s a big promise you’re making me.” You raise an eyebrow at him. But you like the dream that he’s sharing with you, no matter how close or how far out of reach it may seem. And so, a warm smile softens your face. “Just me and you?”

“Yes, Angel.” He grins happily, pulling you closer so his heartbeat matches yours and the sound lulls into one under the moon’s gaze. As long as you keep giving him every excuse in the world to keep you within arms’ reach��forever, then it’s contentment and peace and everything else in between he’ll find with you. If you’re there, then that’s home for him. “Just us and the sky.”

꒰ note ᰔ still coping with everything that’s happened along with ch. 261 so hope you enjoyed this something silly and something fluff for our sweet loverboy satoru. ꒱

[andhumanslovedstories]

I am not closely following the election results tonight, but I am occasionally seeing flashes of them out of the corner of my eye. The most obvious sign that things aren’t going well right now is the complete lack of celebrating on my dash. I know what tumblr looks like when it’s happy. Maybe I’ll go to bed tonight and see something different in the morning. I hope to god that is the case. But I’m thinking about the way I’m thinking right now, and I want to get some stuff down before the future kicks in.

In 2016 I was in a period of my life I affectionately refer to as as my fuckup era. I wasn’t even fucking up really. More just chilling out and falling short of the vague expectations I’d had about what I was supposed to be doing after I graduated college. While my friends from college rented apartments in the city and got jobs that didn’t supply you with a uniform shirt, I lived at home and worked as a barista at a fancy movie theater. That’s a real job you can do for almost five years. I didn’t have a clue what the back half of my twenties should look like. The only long term plan I had in my life was moving out west with my best friend, and my plan for finding a job once I was out there was basically to cross my fingers and hope.

Those days weren’t bad on the whole, but it felt like I was not actually living a life so much as I was goofing off in the waiting room. Sometimes that felt embarrassing, sometimes it felt fun, and sometimes it felt like I was completely pointless to the world.

On 2016’s Election Day, I went to bed early. After watching the votes come in, I needed the night to be over. I woke in a world that felt different than it had been the night before—not just in the actuality of who would be president but down to its foundations. I realized for the first time how much hope I’d had in human nature because now I didn’t feel it anymore. It’s almost silly when I think about it—so many horrible things had already happened that year, people had done horrible things as long as there have been people, and I didn’t think I was naive to that—but something clicked into place that morning.

It felt the same way my world had changed a year earlier, in 2015 during my last semester of college. My college victory lap felt like a prolonged downward spiral. Very early in the morning on a Monday, after pulling an all-nighter and overwhelmed by self-loathing that I could not just motivate myself to work on a paper that had been my only thought all weekend, I self-harmed for the first time in a way that was impossible to pretend it was anything else. Earlier that weekend, I’d tried staving off the urges drawing or writing on my arm, something that did (and does) usually work. I’d written this quote in silver sharpie on my forearm: “Good is not a thing you are. It's a thing you do.”

I picked that quote from the Ms. Marvel comics and liked the words so much, I thought that I wouldn’t be willing to purposefully mess it up by hurting myself there. Didn’t work. They just made me feel more ashamed of myself as I did it.

That was the worst I had ever felt. Then, on the Friday of that week, a friend of mine was senselessly, brutally murdered.

It doesn’t feel now like there was ever a time before her death. My memoir class is now where I wrote about her. My favorite professor is now the one who held me as I cried. My final thesis, the culmination of my history degree, never got finished and certainly never got polished. I turned it what I had and got an A minus. Sometimes I think of rereading that paper to see if that’s the grade it actually deserved. We hadn’t been the closest friends, but my name was still on the email admin sent to professors, listing students who might be emotionally affected by this tragic event. Grace’s murder hangs over every memory I have with her and everything she ever touched. It feels like its own type of obliteration to leave her reduced to her death.

Grace wanted to be a lawyer because she believed in justice and also liked arguing. She could be rude when she wasn’t interested in what you were saying. When you caught her attention, you felt like the most fascinating person in the room. She was so proud of being Jewish. I watched her become proud of being gay. She was so universally friendly that it took me a year to realize that she actually liked specifically me. She had a somewhat silly laugh and an astonishingly luminous smile.

I thought less of the world and the people in it because of how she died. Trump’s election in 2016 felt like that.

After he won, I left stasis. From November through December, I thought harder about my future than I ever had before. Who did I want to be? What did I most value? What did I think was worth protecting? What work wouldn’t kill me to do? At one point, in presumably a fit of madness, I thought, “what if I got into politics.” Epiphany eventually hit me. By the time of Trump’s inauguration, I was already enrolled at community college, getting my pre-reqs for nursing school.

Now it’s election night again, eight years later. I live on the west coast with my best friend, in a house that we bought together. I work as a nurse in a hospital in a city where there are homeless encampments off every highway and someone begging for change on every corner. Meanwhile, there’s Palestine. Meanwhile there’s Sudan. Meanwhile refugees drown in the sea and border patrol shoots jugs of water. Even hurricanes have human cruelty now.

I don’t think people are inherently good or the universe inherently kind. But I am very good at tricking myself into thinking it for a little while, and when I do, I can remember the a specific feeling from Friday of my senior year, from that morning in November— how fucking hard the disappointment hit me because I had expected people to be better than this. It makes me want to be better than that.

I believe, and hope that I always will, that we can make a better world. I don’t know what it looks like, but I think I will see it in my lifetime. Those of us who can believe such things owe a bit of that naïveté to the world—not to excuse atrocities or think them impossible but to believe that we can stop them at all. You have to have a couple people sprinkled around who are genuinely shocked when people do bad things. It’s not that the pessimists are wrong, but you need the occasional counterbalance. I want to be a reasonable cynic’s pleasant surprise.

Every shift, I interact with people at their lowest and worst. I see the direct pipeline from pain to anger to violence, and how fragile that pipeline can be. So many situations can be changed by things as small as a warm blanket or a kind word. Violence can be quite easy to avert. Crises can be quite simply to resolve. Even when I know that whatever I do that shift will not change the circumstances of a person’s life, I think that what I do that shift still matters.

I’m lying in bed, writing this post instead of looking at the news. I wonder how tonight will change me. Been thinking about what I’ll do if Trump wins. Been thinking about how whatever I think I need to do under Trump will still need to be done if Harris clutches out a victory. I guess this is a pessimist’s optimism: to a degree the election doesn’t matter. Good is not a thing you are. It is a thing you do. Our better world will always take a lot of work.

But please god please, why can’t it be just a little easier to do it?

[cherryredcheol]

gatekeep gorgeous

tldr: just pot the photos? tf? a/n: sorry i've been MIA. life, ya know? also, what should i call this series? i'm still at a loss for names partner privilege passenger princess barbeque, baby

jeonghan crossed the room, calling out, “coups, i have a question for you.” 

seungcheol turned to look at his friend, “what’s up?” 

“why didn’t you post those photos i took of you the other day on your instagram? they looked really good and i was pretty proud of my photography skills.” jeonghan crossed his arms and waited for an answer, watching his hyung sputter to try and come up with some kind of excuse.

seungcheol was caught off guard by the question. “i just–”  

jeonghan interrupted, “don’t even try to tell me they didn’t look good, because i know they did.” 

“they just didn’t fit the vibe of my page right now, maybe i’ll post them later. save them for a rainy day, you know?” seungcheol was trying to lessen the awkwardness. 

jeonghan narrowed his eyes, not believing his answer, but not invested enough to argue, “whatever, they would’ve gotten so many likes. i’m sure of it. you should post them sometime.” 

“i know, thank you for taking them. they are great photos, i’m just not ready to share them.” 

“cheollie? are you sure you don’t mind?” you looked up at him from his chest where your head rested. 

he paused the movie playing on the tv in your bedroom, confused, “mind what, baby?” 

you sat up and looked down at him where he still lay, a little frown on your face, “you really don’t mind not posting those photos jeonghan took of you? they’re so nice and i feel bad asking you to let me keep them to myself. but sometimes i feel like i have to share so much of you with literally the entire world and i just wanted to be selfish. but i’m starting to feel really guilty about it and–”

“whoa, baby,” he interrupted your rant, sitting up to look at you better, “there is no reason for you to feel guilty. I don’t mind not sharing those photos if it makes you happy. you do share a lot of me, something i’m so thankful you put up with. so if you want to be selfish and gatekeep some photos of me, i don’t care.”

your frown lessened, “are you sure you don’t mind? i know your instagram is important to you and your image. if you want to post them, you can. i don’t mind.” 

he took your hands in his, “i am one hundred percent sure i do not want to post them. you are more important to me than any instgram post ever will be. keep them, those photos belong to you as far as i’m concerned” 

you beamed at him, “thank you cheollie. i love you.” 

“i love you more, baby.”

[butteronabun]

disclaimer: just some silly shenanigans as diluc’s s/o:

“You are the perfect man for me.”

Diluc almost drops the glass he’s washing from your sudden declaration. You can see the blush forming on those cheeks of his. It’s absolutely comical. “Pardon?”

You smile at him innocently. Oh, how lucky you are to be the only one to fluster Diluc and lose his composure. “I said what I said!”

He stares at you, long enough for you to crack a grin.

Man is speechless. He still isn’t used to your antics.

_

The night is still young.

You feel Diluc’s presence beside you as he joins you on the sheets. A comforting warmth emanates from him, and you turn to your side. As he prepares his own side of the bed, you silently admire his beefy figure and long, fluffy hair. Not to mention how he’s so kissable as of the moment.

Again, how lucky you are, to be able to have such a sight: he’s not the Master Diluc who doesn’t hesitate to kick out disrespectful drunks in his tavern, nor the one who manages the winery with such formality and professionalism. He’s especially not the vigilante who lurks from the shadows and slays enemies who threaten his nation.

For now, he’s just Diluc. Your Diluc.

“Di–luc,” you sing.

Diluc lifts his head, and stops patting on his pillows for a bit. All eyes on you. “Yes?”

“Get on top of me.”

Your lover gapes at you, before embarrassingly looking away. “No.”

You grin at him as you rise from your side. You know Diluc’s trying to avoid your gaze when he plops down beside you, but you also know that even if he’s trying to ignore you, he just can’t. He loves you too much.

“Why? Are you embarrassed?” You tease, and poke him on the shoulder lightly. “And we’re in a relationship! Shouldn’t we cuddle?”

“I know what you are doing,” Diluc remarks. “This is one of your pranks, again.”

Just because you started an impromptu wrestling match with him on the bed that one time doesn’t mean you’ll do it again. Maybe. Oh. It’s so nice to see Diluc overpower you and making a point. But that story is going to be for another time. “But my request is genuine. I do really want you on top of me.”

Diluc sighs. “Sometimes it fascinates me how you can say such things so forwardly.”

“It’s because it’s you,” You kiss him sweetly on the cheek. “I love you.”

He doesn’t respond for a bit. Then, he sighs again, and glances at you. His expression is not filled with exasperation, but just fondness. Really, how did you get so lucky? “Fine. . . but no hidden intentions.”

You feign a gasp, “Is it really so bad for me to want your big arms to suffocate me?”

“Wait- that’s what you want? Love, not this again—“

_

“Diluc, just one kiss, I beg,” you plead with your eyes closed and hands clasped together in front of your chest. Diluc’s eyes are wide, a hint of red peeking from his ears, and Elzer, beside him, tries to hide his amused chuckles. “One kiss from you and I think I’ll be able to save the world!”

It’s another day in the office and Master Diluc’s beloved makes a visit again ( who really has special privileges because she’s the only one allowed to see him without any appointments ). And whenever she’s here, she always wants one thing: Diluc’s time. Elzer thinks that this change will take some time for his Master to adjust, but he won’t have it any other way.

“Please?”

“Love, didn’t I already—“

“Master Diluc, I will be excusing myself now,” Elzer bows, hoping that he will forgive him for interrupting their conversation. But he wanted to save his Master from the mortification. “I shall leave you both.”

Even if you are more vocal when it comes to desiring Diluc’s attention, Elzer is aware that the feelings are reciprocated. After all, It’s always a delight to see Master Diluc so smitten.

Before he’s out, Elzer shares a secret look with you. He doesn’t need to speak to deliver a message.

“Good luck, miss.”

Because he knows you understand him when you send him a wink.

_

Diluc meets you in the bathroom - you’re beautiful as always, and he can’t take his eyes off of you. As you look at your reflection, he knows his day is already starting great. The tune that you hum while brushing your hair is pleasing to his ears. “Good morning, my love. You seem chipper.”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” You smile knowingly at him, and subtly reveal the marks that he has made on your neck. His handiwork. The result of his love. “When I’m so lucky?”

Diluc smiles back. “You’re so smug.”

“And you love it~”

“I know.” He cups your cheek. “I love you.”

[scap34]

sugar baby!toji x rich! dom! mean! sadistic! manipulative! male! Younger! sugar daddy!reader

Turning your contract fuck buddy into your sugar baby <3

warnings: degrading, cussing, fingering, mild daddy kink, slight feminization, lingerie

Toji was getting too close to you. 

Maybe it was how you fucked him. Your sadistic nature shining through when you edged him for hours and fucked him roughly after. Or the way you treated him. 

Of course you did treat him like he was yours. But you also pampered him, petted his head, and sang praises into his ears until he came. 

The more he was with you, the more spoiled and lazy he got. With you, all he had to think about was how to please you. Sometimes after you played with him for hours he’d forget everything, acting exactly like the brain dead cock whore you called him. 

The money with you was stable. You paid him well, too well maybe. You also covered all his expenses when you were together. When he was with you, he had no worries. 

But he couldn’t always be with you. 

“I quit.” He said suddenly to you. You and him were sitting on the couch. The tv was on, playing one of those ridiculous horse races Toji liked to gamble on. 

Your hands paused typing and you looked over at him. He looked back at you, seriously. His legs were up and he rested against the couch comfortably. 

He was fond of the couch, you knew that. That’s why you’d brought a new couch. It was just for him and you would even work next to him to make sure he had company. 

“You quit?” You repeated back confused. He nodded, uncharacteristically serious. You knew he could be serious but with you, his coldness fell away. You thought you were past this point already.

“Why?” You asked.

He shrugged. “I’m bored.” He wasn’t. You could tell. You could see it in the way his eyes flicked away guiltily. He drummed his finger against his thick thighs. 

Cute. What a liar your baby was. 

“Okay.” You said agreeing. He immediately looked at you surprised by your quick agreement. You forced your lips to not move, suppressing a smirk. 

You nodded at him, copying his seriousness. “I understand. You can move out whenever you are ready. I’ll send the last check as soon as you leave.” 

His mouth parted in surprise and the hurt in his eyes was hard to hide. It was adorable. He was the one who wanted to leave and yet he was hurt by your agreement? 

He slumped a bit and nodded looking downcast. “Okay.” 

Poor baby. You cooed in your head. You wanted to take him into your arms and kiss his head. You wanted to tell him that you never cared about him and see his reaction. 

“Okay.” You echoed pleased. You turned back to your computer, fingers resuming work.  

Toji wanted you to protest but you nonchalantly agreed to let him leave. He thought you’d put a bit of resistance against his decision. However despite your initial surprise you agreed so readily. 

Despite wanting to leave, he couldn’t help but regret his decision. 

Whatever. He would be fine. After all you were just a good fuck that paid him well. He was sure he’d find something else.  …

“Who was that slut?” He demanded. You gave him an unimpressed look. Both of you could hear the note of pain in his voice. 

It’s been days since he quit. Days since he’d seen you and now he finds you shopping for that slut with the black card you used on him? Did you move on that quick?

“He’s my sugar baby.” You replied calmly. 

Sugar baby?

You smirked at his confusion. “Yeah, it’s like the contract between us, but instead of paying him, he lives with me, sleeps with me and I take care of all his needs.”

You what?

He immediately glared at you. “Why did you pick that slut?” 

You moved closer to him. Inches away from him, he could smell your coconut shampoo. A dazed look crossed his eyes for a second. He missed your scent. 

Your lips tugged into a smirk, immediately noticing his reaction. “I thought he was cute.” 

Cute? He did look more feminine. Blond hair, soft features and doe eyes. Was he your type? Did you like that slut more than him?

“I thought he’d look really pretty dressed in lingerie.” You added thoughtfully, tapping a finger against your chin. 

He almost regretted not killing the slut when he saw him. He should have. Torn his limbs off and asked you how pretty the slut looked then. 

“No.” 

“No, what Toji? This isn’t your decision.” You grinned cruelly. Your words were targeted and made to hurt. 

He was sorry, okay? So stop being so cruel. 

“M’ sorry.” He mumbled out. His head was hanging low. His hands uselessly clenched into fists. He couldn’t brute force his way through his. 

“And what should I do about that?” You said smirking. Toji looked at you betrayed. Didn’t he already admit his mistake?

“Take me back.” He muttered under his breath. You smirked like that was what you expected him to say. 

“I have a few conditions.” He gulped at your words. Your tone sounded wrong and there was a cruel smile on your lips. But he knew he’d agree to anything you said. He needed you. He missed you. 

“You will be my sugar baby.”  …

You’re a manipulative piece of shit. Toji realized as he hissed. Hands desperately clutched the sheets, his face was burned with heat. His throbbing cock begged for attention, hitting his stomach each time you thrusted that damn toy in his ass. 

You had everything planned out didn’t you? You’d used that fucking blond slut to make him jealous. And now you had him exactly where you wanted him. 

Face down on your bed, hips raised up, exposing his hole, and all dolled up in red lingerie for you. Lingerie that he wore because you liked it when he was dressed all pretty for you.

He choked out another moan when you rubbed his cock, rubbing it slowly before you let go again. 

“F-fk yu, fuckin’ a-ah!” He slurred out, crying out as you shoved the toy further into his hole. His body trembled, his cock pathetically leaking drops of precum. 

“What were you saying slut?” Your voice stern laced with traces of amusement. A hand roughly smacked his ass, sending a jolt up his spine. 

His mind filled with pleasure as he let out a sob into the mattress, clenching the silk sheets with a white knuckled grip. His cock was so fucking hard. Everything you did to him only made him harder. 

He could barely think. The plug pressed against his prostate, driving him crazy. You were a sadistic bastard. 

Another slap to his ass knocked him out of his trance. This one was aimed a bit lower, right against the plug. He cried out louder, cock spurting out watery white cum. 

His knees gave out as soon as his third orgasm in 2 hours hit. 

Too blissed out, he didn’t notice when you pulled out the plug, and turned him around. 

He didn’t move, keeping his legs spread, eyes closed,and cheek pressed to the mattress. 

A second passed then another. You sighed and moved away from him. His eyes snapped open, and he looked up at you in confusion. His eyes went to your hard cock that strained against your zipper. 

He looked up at you, confused. You didn’t acknowledge him and used a few tissues to clean him up. Tossing them away you draped a blanket over him. 

This is what you did after you were done with him, and yet you still hadn’t come once. You were clearly still hard. Why weren’t you fucking him?

Was he really not enough for you? The thought was like a bucket of cold water that poured over him. The orgasmatic bliss he’d been floating in, disappeared, throwing him back to reality. 

He disappointed you. 

You were walking away from him. A whine left his throat before he could think. He got off the sofa, his legs weak but stable. 

“[Name],” he bit his lip. “D-daddy p-please.” He called out, a pink flush in his cheeks. You froze in your steps. 

You turned around slowly, your eyes drinking in Toji’s lingerie and disheveled state with clear arousal. You liked him dressed like this. He hesitantly reached up and pressed his bra clad pecs together. 

Your eyes immediately zoned into the movement. 

He was right. 

Ignoring the burning blush of embarrassment he played with his chest, that way he’d seen you do it to him. He squeezed them, and rolled his nipple between his thumb and index, moaning when it sent heat straight into his cock. 

You’d covered his cock with the lacy red panties after he finished. His hardening cock, bulging against the soft fabric. The friction only intensified his arousal.

He panted softly, his exposed skin flushed with humiliation. He must have looked pathetic, dressed up like a slut. The feminine lingerie that barely covered his body, clearly wasn’t made for him. But under your lust blown eyes, he felt so fucking wanted.

“Fuck me, daddy. I want your cum in me.” He whined looking up at you with half lidded lashes. Like expected you fell for it.

Your face split into a grin. Taking two strides forward you closed the distance between you and him. Your hands roamed across his chest, squeezing his tits and ass. 

“Gladly.” You purred, fingers slipping into Toji’s loose hole. He sucked in a breath, a moan slipping from his lips. He eagerly grinded down onto your fingers, like he was scared he wouldn’t please you.

You licked his neck and smiled where he couldn’t see it. Your sweet baby. So pretty, and ready to please. You didn’t feel bad about manipulating him.

Dolled up in lingerie, playing with his large tits, cheeks flushed with shame. He looked so fucking erotic. So willing to do whatever it took to make you happy. 

You turned him around, hands on his small waist. He gasped but easily spread his legs, bending over obediently. Your smirk grew, as you lined your cock up to his entrance, pushing in and bottoming out. 

Your baby cried out, still sensitive from his last orgasm. You pulled out and thrusted back in without mercy. The sound of skin hitting skin mixed with both of your moans. 

“My perfect slut. So fucking pretty. Gonna make you my cock whore.” You muttered thrusting into him. Toji, already fucked stupid, eagerly nodded along. His useless cock, spilling beads of cum. 

“Yes, yes, your slut. Want your cum. Please pl’se.” he slurred out, gasping when you buried you hand in his hair and yanked it roughly. Tears bit the corner of his eyes, his expression was aggrieved. 

You chuckled and rubbed the head of his cock in apology. His eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head, small whines, pleas falling from his pink lips. 

Who were you to deny your beautiful baby anything? 

You fucked into his tight ass, his greedy hole clinging to your cock as you pulled out even slightly. 

“P’ease plea-hic,” he sobbed. “M’ w’nna cum, please.” You thrusted into him harder, holding his waist. Your own orgasm building up. Your baby wanted you to use him, so you will.

When you finally cum, Toji collapses forward. His hole was leaking with cum, his body still trembling from his orgasm. 

You tucked your cock away, smiling when Toji’s eyes landed on your softened cock with delight. He was proud that he made you cum. A-fucking-dorable.

You couldn’t wait to spoil this man rotten. Your precious sugar baby.