#sometimes i just have to not think so hard about it

[aeolianblues]

god I would be UNSTOPPABLE if I was capable of consistently initiating conversations. just you wait. you'll be waiting a while but just you wait

god I would be UNSTOPPABLE if I was capable of consistently initiating tasks. just you wait. you'll be waiting a while but just you wait

[kaiist]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 ⋯ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐃-𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑

The walls of your shared apartment seemed to close in, the air thick with unspoken resentments that had been building for weeks. What had begun as a minor disagreement about household chores had somehow torn open wounds neither of you knew were still bleeding. Xavier stood across from you, his brows furrowed, the only visible sign of his distress.

“You weren’t listening to what I’m actually saying!” you shouted, frustration bubbling over like a pot left too long on the stove. “It’s like I’m talking to a brick wall. Maybe we should just get divorced since you clearly don’t care enough to even hear me!”

The words hung in the air like smoke, poisonous and suffocating. Xavier went completely still, the color draining from his face as if you’d physically struck him. His carefully maintained composure shattered completely. For a terrible moment, he looked like a lost child, confusion and raw hurt etched across features that rarely betrayed emotion, as if trying to process whether he’d heard you correctly.

“What?” His voice came out as barely a whisper, the single syllable laden with disbelief. The tremor in his hands was visible now as he took a halting step toward you. “You want to leave me?”

The question hung between you, fragile and devastating. His eyes—usually so guarded—were wide with a naked vulnerability that made your chest ache. You’d never seen him like this, stripped of his careful control, looking at you as though his entire world was crumbling beneath his feet.

“No,” he finally said, the word coming out stronger than you expected, though his voice still wavered. “No, I don’t accept that.”

He moved closer, his eyes searching yours intently. “Is that truly what you want? To end everything we have…?” Xavier was stumbling over his words, fear making his movements uncertain.

The raw pain in his expression doused your anger like ice water. You felt a crushing wave of regret as you realized what you’d done.

You felt your anger dissolve, replaced by immediate regret. “I... I don’t know what came over me,” you admitted, your voice softening as you reached for his hand. “I’m just... I’m drowning here, Xavier. I feel so alone sometimes, even when you’re right beside me.”

Relief washed over his face in stages, as if he didn’t quite trust it yet. The tension in his shoulders unwound gradually, his breathing becoming less ragged. He closed the remaining distance between you, his hands tentatively framing your face as if you might disappear at his touch.

“You scared me,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “I thought—” His throat worked as he swallowed hard, then shook his head as if dismissing the painful thought. “I know arguments are normal, but please don’t say things like that unless you truly mean them.”

In a surprising move, Xavier pulled you gently against his chest, wrapping his arms around you. He rested his chin atop your head, his heartbeat gradually slowing from its accelerated pace. You could feel the subtle tremor in his body, still racing from the terror your words had inflicted.

“I know I’m not...” he struggled, pressing his face into your hair. “I know I don’t show it like others might. I know I’m... difficult to read sometimes.”

His arms tightened, as if afraid you might slip away. “But please understand,” he whispered against your temple, “never, never think that means I don’t care.”

The silence stretched between you, filled only by the sound of your mingled breathing slowly synchronizing. His hand moved in gentle circles against your back, a gesture so tender it brought tears to your eyes.

After a long moment, he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own still haunted by the echo of fear your words had planted. “Let’s talk about what’s really bothering you,” he said softly. “The real issue—not threats we don’t mean.” His thumb brushed a tear from your cheek. “I need you to know that I’m listening. Really listening.”

𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄

The kitchen lights buzzed overhead, casting harsh shadows across Zayne’s tired face as another late night unfolded into another argument. The takeout containers sat cold and forgotten on the counter, another dinner you’d planned to share, ruined by the hospital’s relentless demands.

“This is the third time this week, Zayne!” Your voice echoed off the pristine tiles, resentment burning in your chest. “I’m tired of coming second to your patients. I’m tired of planning my entire life around a husband who’s never actually here!”

Zayne’s shoulders slumped, exhaustion evident in every line of his body. “What do you want me to say? That patient would have died if I’d left mid-surgery. You know that.”

“What I know is that our marriage is dying while you’re saving everyone else!” The words spilled out like blood from a wound. “If your work is so much more important than what we have, maybe we shouldn’t be married at all!”

Zayne went completely rigid, as if someone had just flatlined on his operating table. His eyes widened with an unmistakable flash of terror that transformed his features into something you barely recognized.

“What did you just say?” His voice emerged as a hoarse whisper, so unlike his usual tone that it startled you both. The mug he’d been holding slipped from his fingers, shattering against the floor with a crash that neither of you acknowledged.

His hand instinctively reached for the counter edge, gripping it with such force his knuckles turned bloodless white. “Do you—” He took a deep breath, visibly struggling to regain his composed detachment but failing completely. “Do you understand what you’re suggesting?”

His other hand pushed through his hair, a gesture so uncharacteristically vulnerable it startled you. Zayne—always controlled, always collected—looked like he was coming apart at the seams.

“This isn’t—” he began, his voice unsteady. “This isn’t something to throw around in an argument.” His gaze locked onto yours, desperate and searching. “Do you genuinely want to end our marriage? Is that... is that what I’ve driven you to?”

The raw fear in his eyes struck you like a physical blow. Regret washed over you immediately, dousing the flames of your anger.

“No,” you whispered, moving toward him as if drawn by gravity. “No, Zayne, no. I don’t want that at all.” You stepped carefully over the broken ceramic, reaching for him. “I just... I miss you so much it physically hurts. Sometimes I feel like I’m competing with ghosts for your attention, and I’m always losing.”

The tension in his body didn’t immediately dissolve, but something in his expression shifted—a cautious relief mingled with lingering dread.

“You can’t—” he started, then cleared his throat, struggling to steady his voice. “You can’t say things like that. Not when you don’t mean them.” His eyes held a wounded vulnerability that made your heart ache. “Not even in anger.”

He reached for your hands, holding them between his own—hands that were always steady, now trembling slightly as they enveloped yours. His touch was gentle but desperate, like someone clutching a lifeline.

“I’ve lost patients before,” he murmured, his voice low. “Despite doing everything right, despite fighting with everything I had. It’s an inevitable part of what I do.” His eyes met yours, stripped of their usual protective distance. “But losing you... there’s no protocol for that. No training that could prepare me for a world without you in it.”

He pulled you closer, one hand moving to the small of your back while the other cradled your face. “We need to talk about this—really talk,” he said, his voice regaining some of its steadiness. “About my hours at the hospital and how they’re affecting you. About better ways to communicate when you’re feeling abandoned.” His thumb brushed gently over your cheekbone. “But threatening what we have... that can’t be your way of getting my attention. I can’t accept that.”

His forehead came to rest against yours, his breath warm on your skin. “I chose you,” he whispered. “Not just once at the altar, but every day since. The hospital gets my skills and my time, but you...” His voice caught. “You have everything else. My heart. My future. Everything that matters.”

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋

“You promised, Rafayel. You promised you’d be there tonight.” Your voice trembled with hurt and frustration. “And you just... didn’t show up.”

Rafayel’s expression cycled through confusion, realization, and then dismay as he glanced at the clock. Paint smeared across his forearms, flecks of blue and gold caught in his disheveled hair. “The dinner... was tonight?” His voice was small, stunned. “I thought—I was sure it was tomorrow. I just—”

“Of course you did,” you cut him off, tears burning your eyes. “Of course you probably got distracted by a pretty sky while I sat there making excuses for you!” The shame and embarrassment of the evening washed over you afresh. “You never take anything seriously! Not my feelings, not my situation—nothing!”

You knocked over an empty paint cup, sending it clattering across the floor. “Maybe we should just get divorced if I’m so easy to forget!”

The words seemed to physically strike Rafayel. The ever-present light in his eyes extinguished instantly, as if someone had snuffed out a flame. His expression crumpled in stages—shock, horror, then a devastating anguish that transformed his features into something almost unrecognizable.

“No,” he whispered. Then louder, more desperate, “No, no, no—you can’t mean that. Please tell me you don’t mean that.”

He moved toward you with frantic urgency, nearly knocking over his easel in his haste. His hands reached for yours, fingers trembling visibly. “Please,” he begged, his voice cracking. “Please don’t say that. Don’t even think about it.”

Tears welled in his eyes, catching the light like a fractured crystal. His hands clutched yours with desperate intensity.

“I’ll do better,” he promised frantically, words tumbling over each other. “I’ll be better. I’ll set alarms. I’ll never miss another dinner. I’ll—” His voice broke. “I’ll do anything. Just please don’t leave me.” His breath hitched on a suppressed sob. “Please don’t leave me alone in a world without you in it.”

The raw panic in his eyes made your heart ache. You squeezed his hands, shaking your head quickly. “Rafayel, I didn’t mean it,” you said softly, reaching up to brush away a tear tracking down his cheek. “I would never leave you—I love you too much. I was just hurt and embarrassed, but I spoke without thinking. I’m so sorry I scared you.”

The relief that washed over his face was almost painful to witness—like watching someone being pulled back from the edge of a cliff. His shoulders sagged as if a crushing weight had been lifted, and a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob escaped him. Without warning, he pulled you into an embrace so tight it nearly stole your breath, his body trembling against yours.

“You scared me,” he whispered against your hair, his voice unsteady. “The world without you in it... it wouldn’t even be a world anymore.” His arms tightened around you, as if he could somehow merge you into himself, keep you from ever leaving. “The ocean would lose its blue. The sunset would mean nothing. Everything would be wrong.”

For a moment, you glimpsed the true depth of his feelings. Rafayel clung to you as if you were his only tether to sanity.

“You’re the only one,” he murmured brokenly, his fingers tangling in your hair. “The only one who’s ever truly seen me. The only one I’ve ever truly loved.” His voice caught on the words. “Others... they’re just shadows. Background noise. But you—” His breathing hitched. “You’re the melody I can’t stop hearing.”

He pulled back just enough to cup your face in his hands, eyes still glistening with unshed tears. “I know I’m not... I know I’m difficult,” he admitted, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. “I get distracted. I get lost in my head. I disappear when something catches my attention. But none of that means I don’t care.” He rested his forehead against yours.

Rafayel pressed a trembling kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then finally a feather-light touch to your lips. “I’m sorry about tonight,” he whispered. “I saw the sunset reflecting on the water, and it reminded me of the way your eyes catch the light when you laugh, and I just... got lost in trying to capture it. A moment that reminded me of you.” He shook his head slightly. “But that’s no excuse. I should have been with you.”

His arms wrapped around you once more, holding you as if you were something infinitely precious and terrifyingly fragile. “Tell me how to make it right,” he pleaded softly. “Tell me what you need from me, and I’ll give it to you. Anything. Just... just promise you won’t say those words again. Not even in anger. I couldn’t bear it.”

𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒

“You’re being reckless again,” he said, his voice cool in a way that only stoked your anger further. “You’re letting emotion cloud your judgment.”

Weeks of feeling second-guessed and undermined by the very person who should have been your greatest ally finally erupted. “Not everything needs your perfect, polished approval, Sylus! Sometimes instinct trumps your precious spreadsheets!”

His eyes narrowed slightly—the only outward sign that your words had struck a nerve. “Instinct without strategy leads to disaster. You know that.”

The argument echoed through the room. What had started as a disagreement about your latest ambitious ideas had escalated beyond reason when he questioned your methods.

“What I know is that you don’t trust me anymore,” you said, voice rising with each word. “If you think so little of my ideas and my capabilities, then maybe we should just get divorced and you can find someone who meets your impossible standards!”

The temperature in the room seemed to plummet. Sylus went completely, unnaturally still. Surprise and disbelief appeared on his features. He regarded you with an unfathomable stare, his jaw tightening visibly as a muscle worked in his cheek. You’d never seen him look so... shaken. The silence stretched between you, heavy with implications neither of you was prepared to face.

“Is that what you want?” he finally asked, his voice unnervingly quiet. There was steel underneath his words, but also something else—a carefully concealed pain that threaded through the syllables. His eyes never left yours, studying every micro-expression with devastating intensity.

He moved toward you in a few steps. “Very well,” he said softly, the words carrying a finality that sent ice through your veins. “If that is truly your desire, I won’t stand in your way.”

His hand reached out, hovering near your face but not quite touching, as if memorizing your features from a distance. The gesture held such unexpected tenderness that it made your throat tighten. “Though I would ask you to consider carefully if that is what you genuinely want,” he continued, voice barely above a whisper. “Some decisions can’t be undone.”

The subtle vulnerability in his controlled demeanor broke through your anger. You could see it now—the carefully masked fear behind his eyes, the slight tension in his shoulders that betrayed how deeply your words had cut him.

You reached for his hovering hand, pulling it to your cheek. “No—please, don’t agree to that,” you said, your voice softening with immediate regret. “I spoke without thinking. I was hurt and angry and I lashed out in the worst possible way.” Your fingers tightened around his. “I value what we’ve built—what we have—more than anything in the world. I would never want to throw it away, especially not over a disagreement.”

Relief flickered across Sylus’s face, though so carefully guarded that you might have missed it had you not known every minute shift of his expression.

“I suspected as much,” he said, his voice softer now, almost gentle. His hand, which had been hovering near you, finally made full contact, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw. “Still, you should be more careful with your threats. I might have taken you at your word.”

He pulled you against him then, arms wrapping firmly around your waist. The embrace held a desperate quality that belied his controlled exterior, as if he was trying to reassure himself that you were still there, still his.

“You are...” he began, then paused, choosing his words with characteristic precision. “You are irreplaceable to me.” Coming from Sylus—a man who measured every word as carefully as he measured risk—the simple statement carried more weight than flowery declarations might from others. “What we have built together is not something I would surrender without a fight.” His arms tightened infinitesimally. “But I would never force you to remain if you truly wished to leave.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“We disagree. We argue. That is the nature of two ambitious minds existing in the same orbit.” His thumb traced your lower lip, the gesture surprisingly intimate. “But don’t threaten what we have unless you genuinely wish to end it.” Something vulnerable flickered in his eyes. “I respect you too much to assume your words are empty.”

For a moment, you glimpsed behind the mask of the strategic leader who planned several steps ahead in every situation—seeing instead a man momentarily confronted with a possibility he hadn’t fully prepared for: your departure from his life.

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁

The argument had been building for weeks, pressure accumulating like a storm system. What started as a seemingly minor issue—Caleb canceling dinner plans again due to a last-minute work emergency—had erupted into something far more devastating. The living room felt too small for the tension between you.

“That’s the fifth time this month,” you said, voice tight with hurt as you paced the living room. “I understand your work is important, but am I even a consideration anymore?”

Caleb ran a hand over his face, exhaustion evident in every line of his body. “It’s not like I had a choice. When—”

“You always have a choice!” The words burst from you, weeks of loneliness and frustration finding their target. “You choose your career over me, and I’m tired of making excuses for why my husband is never home, never present, never here when I need him!”

“That’s not fair,” he countered, his own frustration rising to meet yours. “You knew what my life was when you married me. The Fleet doesn’t care about our dinner reservations.”

“And clearly, neither do you!” You grabbed your keys from the counter, the metal biting into your palm. “Maybe we should just get divorced if your career is always going to come first! At least then I wouldn’t be waiting for someone who’s never coming home!”

The atmosphere shifted instantly, as if all the oxygen had been sucked from the room. Caleb, who had been pacing, stopped dead in his tracks. His entire body went rigid, eyes widening with a look of such raw horror that it made your heart stutter.

“No,” he said after a long, terrible pause, his voice dangerously quiet. “No, you don’t mean that.”

He closed the distance between you in two swift strides, his eyes never leaving yours. There was something in his movement, a barely contained desperation, that made your breath hitch.

“You don’t mean that,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument despite the slight tremor underneath the words. “You’re upset, and you have every right to be. But that—” he shook his head sharply, “—that’s not an option. Not now, not ever.”

His hands found your shoulders, grip firm but gentle. The look in his eyes was a volatile mixture of hurt, fear, and something possessively fierce that sent a shiver down your spine. “We’re not doing that,” he said, each word emphasizing. “You’re mine, and I’m yours. That doesn’t change because we’re fighting.”

The intensity of his reaction cut through your anger like a blade, leaving only regret in its wake. You felt the fight drain out of you as you leaned into his touch, reaching up to cover his hands with yours.

“You’re right,” you whispered, tears finally spilling over. “I don’t mean it at all. I would never—” Your voice broke. “I’m so sorry, Caleb. I was trying to hurt you because I felt hurt, but that was cruel and unfair. I would never want to lose you. I just feel so alone sometimes, like I’m competing with the entire Fleet for scraps of your attention.”

The iron grip of tension in Caleb’s shoulders eased slightly, though the intensity in his eyes remained. He exhaled slowly, as if releasing a breath he’d been holding since your outburst. One hand moved from your shoulder to cup your face, his touch gentler than his words had been.

“Don’t ever say that again,” he said, his voice quiet but carrying a dangerous undercurrent. “Not even in anger. Not even as a weapon. Not ever.” The hand against your cheek trembled slightly. “I couldn’t bear it.”

He pulled you against his chest, one arm wrapping securely around your waist while his other hand cradled the back of your head. You could feel his heart hammering against your cheek, his breathing uneven.

“The thought of losing you...” he murmured against your hair. “It’s not something I can bear. Not something I would ever accept.” His arms tightened around you, as if he could physically prevent you from leaving by holding you close enough. “You’re the only thing that keeps me human out there. The only reason I fight so hard to come back.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “I know I’ve been distant,” he acknowledged, his thumb brushing away a tear from your cheek. “The Fleet demands so much, but it’s no excuse. Nothing—” his grip tightened slightly, “—nothing is more important to me than you. Not my career, not my duty, not anything.”

“We’ll figure this out,” he promised, pressing his forehead to yours. “Whatever it takes. More time together. Better communication.” His lips brushed yours. 

“Just don’t ever threaten to leave me again. I need you to promise me that.” His voice softened, revealing a vulnerability you rarely glimpsed. “Because I don’t think I’d survive it.”

Phew, finally. This turned out to be one of my longest scenarios yet. I’m honestly pretty proud of it, and yeah, I got emotional—tears were shed, lol. I really hope it’s enough to repay all the love and enthusiasm you’ve shown. I’m so grateful you’re here to read it. Thank you!

[witchslove]

Study Sessions

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: You and Wanda have been best friends since your first semester of college. When you have to take a physics class, Wanda is more than happy to help you study, but your late night study sessions blur the lines between friendship and romance.

Warnings: 18+ nsfw content; bottom!wanda maximoff, top!reader, fingering (w receiving), oral (w receiving), wanda’s first time with a woman, slight angst, jealousy

A/N: Save me college Wanda, college Wanda save me…

——————————

The sun beamed down on you as you walked across campus, sweat forming on the back of your neck from the heat.

You had just finished your first day of classes for the semester and you were feeling confident about all of them, except for one. Even as an English major, you were stuck taking a physics class to complete some general requirements for graduation.

You could handle the most complex forms of literature on a bad day, but when it came to math and science, you found yourself feeling a little lost.

The good news was that your roommate and best friend, Wanda Maximoff, was a physics major. Wanda was everything you wanted to be - naturally smart, driven, focused, and incredibly organized.

She was also the most beautiful person you had ever laid eyes on, long brown hair that was somehow even softer than it looked, stunning green eyes that sometimes made you nervous under her gaze, and the perfect body - since you shared a room, you’d seen her undress before, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to look like her or fuck her brains out.

You constantly pushed down any desires you felt towards Wanda since she was your best friend, telling yourself your friendship was far too valuable to risk just because you occasionally had confusing feelings towards her.

The two of you had known each other since you both started college. You were roommates your first semester and instantly became close, despite your contrasting personalities. Where you were more relaxed and laid back when it came to your studies, Wanda was very serious. It made sense though, her major was far more demanding than yours was and she always worked hard to maintain her perfect GPA.

You’d always admired Wanda and found that you could no longer envision your life without her by your side. She was easily the best friend you’d ever had; she was supportive when you needed it and stayed on top of you when you felt like slacking. Wanda was extremely likable and you felt honored that she considered you her closest friend as well.

When you finally made it back to your dorm, you sighed as you felt the cool air inside. You headed to your room and unlocked the door, stepping through the threshold to the familiar sight of Wanda studying. You smiled to yourself; it was only the first day of classes and she was already trying to learn as much as she could.

“Hey,” you greeted, setting your things down and plopping into your bed, taking a moment to relax.

“Hi,” Wanda said back, turning in her chair to face you. “How was your first day?”

“It was good,” you responded, looking over at her from your bed. “My professors seem cool, most of my classes don’t seem too hard. What about you?”

“Not too bad, although my nuclear and particle physics class might kick my ass this semester,” Wanda chuckled.

“Is that what you’re over there studying already?” You teased her, gesturing to the open books on her desk.

“Yeah, it’s actually pretty interesting. I want to get ahead this semester so I have more time to hang out with you and do fun stuff,” she explained.

“That’s good. I’ll remind you that you said that the next time you’re trying not to go to a party with me,” you joked, bringing a smile to her face. “Or maybe you could use some of that extra time to help me out, I’m stuck taking a physics class this semester and I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Oh, which one?” Wanda asked, her interest piqued.

“Classical mechanics I think,” you said, feeling slightly embarrassed at needing help with one of the most basic physics courses.

“That’s a fun one,” she commented. “I’d be glad to help detka.”

That was another thing about Wanda. She often called you pet names, in a friendly way of course, but it made your heart flutter every time she did it.

“Okay cool, thank you. Maybe we can have a study session at the library tomorrow if you’re not too busy with classes?” you asked, knowing you only had one class to worry about in the morning.

Wanda turned towards her desk to flip through a binder, checking her schedule. “I have a morning class and one in the afternoon, could we do 7pm?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you said, biting back a smile at the thought of Wanda tutoring you.

“Perfect! I’ll meet you there tomorrow.” She turned back to face you again, her expression becoming serious as she pointed a finger at you. “Ten minutes of bed-rotting time and then I want to see you reading or writing something,” she demanded, trying to motivate you to get ahead like she was.

“Okay mom,” you retorted, rolling your eyes playfully.

She went back to studying, taking notes as she flipped the pages of her nuclear physics textbook. You laid in bed for a few more moments, scrolling through Instagram reels, before getting up to join her in studying.

The next day, you attended your morning class and then grabbed a latte at the coffee shop on campus, deciding to review your notes as you sipped your drink, knowing it’s what Wanda would want you to do.

The rest of the day went by slowly but you managed to get some work done. You were eager for your study session with Wanda, excited to spend some time with her after the two of you had gone home for the summer and had barely seen each other.

You arrived at the library early, finding it to be relatively empty at this time of night. A few students were at the computers, but overall the library was quite vacant. You picked a spot in the corner, away from others, where you felt you’d have the most privacy and the least distractions.

You waited for Wanda, who came in a few minutes later, looking around the shelves before she spotted you.

“Hey,” she greeted as she sat down beside you, her thigh touching yours. She reached into her bag to pull out different colored pens, highlighters, sticky notes, and some of her old physics notes from when she took classical mechanics.

“Hi,” you breathed out, forcing yourself to ignore the feeling of her so close. “Someone came prepared,” you jested, making her laugh softly as she finished setting up.

“I’m here to help you, aren’t I? I have to make sure you have everything you need,” she quipped with a smile and the most adorable nose scrunch.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight; you didn’t remember it being this hard to be around Wanda, but everything she was doing was driving you crazy in the best way. You watched her for a moment as she placed everything on the table in an organized fashion, biting her lip with a focused expression on her face. You wanted nothing more than to pull her bottom lip from between her teeth and capture it with your own.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” She broke the silence, bringing you back to reality. You blushed at what you were just thinking about, nodding in response.

“Sounds good,” you managed, opening your textbook to the first chapter.

Wanda reached over to move the textbook so it was centered between the two of you and as she did so, your fingers brushed against each other. You almost shivered at the act, the soft touch feeling like too much but not enough at the same time. Wanda didn’t seem affected as she began to dig into the material, asking you what the professor had already gone over.

She somehow kept finding ways to touch you, whether it was a hand on your shoulder or her fingers grazing your own over the textbook as she pointed to pictures and paragraphs. You could barely answer her questions, the close proximity and subtle touches making you yearn for her.

Unbeknownst to you, Wanda was just as affected; she was just better at hiding it. She couldn’t understand why but she kept intentionally finding ways to be closer to you. She didn’t notice the effect it was having on you, too preoccupied with steadying her own heart rate every time she felt your skin against hers.

She’d always thought you were beautiful, but this was something else. She didn’t know why she was struggling to keep her composure around you now. She’d always found comfort in your presence - you often studied together, came home drunk from parties and cuddled in the same bed, or watched movies together laying side by side, the computer across both of your laps.

Something about this study session felt weirdly intimate. She was enjoying teaching you about her passion, physics and science, and maybe that was part of it. She chalked it down to that and tried to push her feelings aside, focusing on helping you with your studies and being a good friend.

A friend - that’s what she was to you and that’s how it would stay. She couldn’t complicate something so perfect with these conflicting feelings of wanting more from you.

Despite both of you trying hard to ignore how you felt, the air was still charged, the tension still there. It wasn’t just this time either - it became a regular occurrence.

Wanda helped you with physics at least once a week and her eager guidance actually helped you grasp the subject more. You found yourself falling in love with the way her eyes would light up when you brought up a subject she knew a lot about. She was so excited every time you understood it too, feeling both accomplished that she could help and proud that you were getting it.

She found it adorable when you didn’t understand something and she loved the way your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to think harder about it. The two of you became closer than ever, which you didn’t think was possible. You and Wanda were already attached at the hip when she wasn’t deep in her studies and you never expected to feel like you were getting to know her better just from a few study sessions, but you loved it.

You found yourself wanting her, despite trying to repress those feelings. Sometimes when you got an answer right and Wanda beamed with excitement, you only wanted to break the distance and kiss her, to feel her lips against your own and wrap your arms around her neck as she kissed you back. You couldn’t help but look at her lips as she spoke, imagining how soft they’d be against your own. Whenever she bit her lip, you wished she was biting yours.

The thoughts weren’t always so innocent though. Yes, you wondered how she would taste as you kissed her, but you also wondered how she would taste with your head between her legs. You wanted to thank her for her help by making her cum on your fingers right there in the library, where anyone could see.

You tried to shake those kinds of thoughts, feeling guilty for thinking of your best friend that way, especially when she was being so kind as to tutor you on the subject you struggled with. She didn’t have a lot of free time to begin with, her workload keeping her fairly busy, and here she was making sure you could pass your physics class with flying colors.

And here you were, too distracted by thoughts of fucking her to pay attention to Newton’s law of attraction. The only law of attraction you could think about was how you felt about Wanda.

Wanda was in the same boat, cursing herself for threatening to ruin your friendship with this newfound attraction towards you. She wondered if her seemingly innocent thoughts about you in the past were actually just the seeds of this desire for you, only now flourishing the more time you spent alone with her.

Whenever she felt your gaze on her, it made her feel hot all over. She tried to ignore it and focus on the material, reminding herself that you just needed help with physics. That’s what she was there for, nothing else.

But sometimes, she wished it was more. When you weren’t looking, she’d rake her eyes over you, taking in the sight of you beside her, feeling her heart stop in her chest when you’d catch her staring. You convinced yourself she was just watching you to make sure you were immersed in the subject, when in reality she was most definitely checking you out.

Still, her eyes on you made you nervous and you brought your attention back to the textbook in front of you solely to rid your cheeks of the blush she caused.

One particular night in the library nearly changed everything.

You read Wanda’s notes about motion and energy, scanning the pages to better understand the concepts. While you admired her neat handwriting and the cute ways she annotated her own notes, Wanda admired the concentrated look on your face.

She was so lost in watching you that she barely noticed when you spoke.

“So special relativity is the exception to Newton’s laws when objects move at high speeds and general relativity is when objects are too massive, right?” You asked, looking up at her for confirmation as she stared at you intently, a slight smirk coming across your features when you caught her.

“Yes,” she choked out, looking away for a second to regain her composure. “And quantum mechanics?”

“That’s the exception when objects are very small,” you responded, feeling confident in your answer.

“Good job,” Wanda praised, making your heart flutter. “You’re really getting it.” She looked at you with nothing but pride and approval, smiling softly.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, feeling hot under her gaze. Despite how nervous she was making you, you didn’t break eye contact.

The two of you sat like that for a moment, just looking at each other, until Wanda’s eyes flicked down to your lips for a brief second. You almost thought you imagined it at first, but then she did it again. You mimicked her actions, looking down at those lips you wanted so desperately to capture with your own.

You swore Wanda was leaning in and you couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same. Your faces were mere inches apart now and you could feel Wanda’s warm breath against your lips.

Before you could close the gap, the door to the library opened and startled both of you. You turned to look at who came in, silently cursing them for ruining the moment as Wanda pulled back to look too.

There was an awkward silence before Wanda cleared her throat. “So now that you know what quantum mechanics is, let’s move on to the definitions of atomic and subatomic,” she said, her voice nearly trembling as she tried to recover from the heated moment you shared.

“Right,” you responded, turning your attention back to her notes, trying to calm your racing heart.

You and Wanda had almost kissed, everything suddenly felt very real. But instead of addressing what just happened, Wanda moved on, bringing the conversation back to the task at hand.

You played along, focusing on looking for the definitions she mentioned, finding it difficult to learn anything new when you had just come so close to kissing the brunette.

The rest of the study session felt tense and slightly awkward, but you made it through the last of the material without any hitches - or almost-kisses. Eventually, the two of you packed up your things and headed out, discussing projects and exams on the way back to your dorm.

A few days later, you were watching a movie in bed when Wanda came in, smiling brightly with a skip in her step.

“What’s got you so giddy today?” You asked, pausing your movie.

“Do you remember Vision, from my data analysis class?”

“Yeah,” you answered, nodding.

“He just asked me out,” she said excitedly. “I said yes of course. We’re going out on Friday, he’s taking me to dinner.”

Her words felt like a punch to the gut. You forced a smile, trying to be happy for her when all you could focus on was the feeling of your heart breaking.

“That’s great, Wands,” you muttered. “I’m happy for you.” The words felt fake coming out of your mouth but you kept up the act and tried to ignore the jealousy bubbling within you.

“He’s so sweet, he even used a silly joke about data to ask me out,” she went on, continuing to tell you about her day as you listened, your mind elsewhere the entire time.

All you could think about was the kiss you almost shared, how it meant everything to you and nothing to Wanda. Obviously she wasn’t interested in you like that and you wondered if you merely imagined the intimacy of the library study sessions. You had to come to terms with the fact that the tension you felt in the air when you were with Wanda lately was all in your head.

You thought when you almost kissed that maybe, just maybe, she felt the same way. Now, you realized you were horribly wrong, the harsh reality hitting you like a truck. Wanda was just being nice helping you study and you let yourself believe that it was more. You felt incredibly stupid, wishing the ground would swallow you whole so you didn’t have to hear any more about the date Vision was taking Wanda on.

What you didn’t know was that Wanda only said yes to Vision out of pure denial. She was having a hard time coping with her feelings for you and this seemed like a good way to move on, to try to save your friendship from her own selfish desires. She was excited for her date, hoping that it would take her mind off of you.

Maybe Vision would be the perfect guy for her and she could fall for him instead. He was handsome, slightly dorky, and very chivalrous, always holding the door open for her when they showed up to class at the same time. He was planning on taking her to a lovely restaurant near campus and Wanda was trying her best to look forward to it.

Friday rolled around and Wanda went on her date, which couldn’t have gone better. Vision greeted her at her dorm with flowers, walking her to his car and taking them to the restaurant. He listened intently while Wanda talked about herself and her passions, seeming genuinely interested. He paid at the end of dinner, leaving a generous tip for their server which Wanda found attractive. He asked politely to kiss her when he dropped her back off and didn’t pressure her for more.

Despite how wonderful the date was, Wanda was frustrated. She didn’t feel a spark with him like she did with you. She didn’t feel anything when they kissed, not even when he cupped her cheek in his hand as he moved his lips softly against her own.

Wanda felt more butterflies in her stomach from your hand brushing against hers during a study session than she did from kissing Vision at the end of their date and she hated it.

She figured it would take some time to get over you and continued to see Vision, going on a couple dates a week with him when she had the free time. She tried to continue your study sessions as well, but you told her you didn’t need the extra help and to just have fun with Vision. She felt slightly hurt - she didn’t like the idea of you not needing her anymore - but she was also proud of you for taking on the subject on your own.

You, on the other hand, were avoiding Wanda at all costs. You only came back to the dorm when she was in class or when she was already asleep, staying out late hanging around college parties that weren’t nearly as fun without your best friend.

You were in far too deep and came to the conclusion that you needed to move on in order to stay friends with Wanda. So you kept your distance, hoping that not seeing her or hearing from her would help you lose feelings for her.

You also couldn’t bear to see her with Vision; the sight of them together on campus made you feel sick to your stomach. You didn’t want to hear about their dates either, knowing it would destroy you. You couldn’t possibly listen to Wanda describe how he got to take her out and kiss her and hold her when it should’ve been you, not without revealing your true feelings to her.

While you spent your days hiding from the brunette, Wanda was confused as to why you were avoiding her, not understanding that it was an act of self-preservation.

She had so many things she was excited to tell you about - being the top student in her relativity class, getting a perfect score on her nuclear and particle physics exam, and of course, her budding relationship with Vision. The opportunity to tell you never came, as you were gone until she went to sleep and out of the dorm before she woke up.

She missed your study sessions, even if not having those intimate moments with you was for the best. She missed your movie nights, your conversations, your presence in general - she missed everything about you. It frustrated her to no end that she could never seem to see you anymore and she wondered how you could possibly become so busy all of a sudden.

She only realized you were actively avoiding her one night when she stayed up late, waiting to see if you’d come back to the dorm.

When you entered, you were surprised to see her still awake.

“Hey,” she said, happy to see you for the first time in weeks. “Where were you?”

“At a party,” you said back coldly. You internally cursed yourself for not staying out later, unaware that Wanda would still be up when you came back. You looked around before grabbing some things from your dresser. “I need to shower,” you announced, leaving the room before Wanda could ask any more questions.

The brunette waited up for you, but you never came back. She waited hours before she finally succumbed to sleep, her thoughts a jumbled mess as she drifted away.

When she woke up the next morning and you were still gone, she knew you were actually making an effort not to see her and she could only wonder what she had done wrong. She mulled over it for a while but came up with nothing. She thought back to the almost-kiss and wondered if maybe she had made you uncomfortable that night.

Days went by and you continued to avoid her. Not knowing why you were staying away from her was driving her crazy. Her grades even began to suffer from how distracted she was in class, her mind consumed with thoughts of you.

She finally decided to confront you about it, but first she’d have to actually find you. She vaguely knew your class schedule but didn’t want to corner you in a public place, so she went to the one place she thought you might be late in the evening.

As soon as she entered the library after hours, she saw you in the corner at the same table the two of you used to sit at for your study sessions.

You were nose deep in your physics textbook, focusing intently as you tried to understand the topics without Wanda’s help. She walked over to you, mentally hyping herself up for the conversation she was both anticipating and dreading.

When you set the book down to take notes, you looked up and your eyes widened at the sight of Wanda approaching you.

Before you could say anything, she was taking a seat across from you. “Why are you avoiding me?” she demanded, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms, her tilting to the side.

“I- I’m not, I-” you stuttered out.

“Don’t,” she interrupted. “Don’t lie to me. You’re never back at the dorm anymore, you stopped spending any time with me, you literally said you were going to shower and just never came back. So don’t you dare lie to me right now.”

“I’ve just been busy,” you said nonchalantly, not wanting to tell her the truth. “I have a life outside of you, you know.” You regretted the words as soon as you said them.

“Bullshit,” she responded, getting angry. “You’re avoiding me and I can’t for the life of me figure out why. What did I do to you?”

“Nothing, Wands,” you reassured her. “You didn’t do anything. I just- I need to be alone.”

“Why?” She didn’t let up. She came here to get answers and she would get them one way or another.

“It’s personal,” you tried, hoping she wouldn’t press any further.

She scoffed. “What’s so personal you can’t share it with your best friend?”

You were at a loss for words. You couldn’t tell her the truth and risk ruining your friendship, but at this point there was barely anything left to ruin. You hadn’t seen Wanda properly in weeks, your friendship with her was practically nonexistent at the moment.

When you didn’t respond, she spoke again, softer this time. “What’s going on? You can tell me anything,” she uttered, reaching out to place a hand over yours.

“I can’t tell you this,” you mumbled, feeling your resolve weakening.

“What could possibly be so bad you can’t tell me?” She asked, her heart falling at the sight of you looking so small under her gaze.

“I- I can’t stand to see you with him,” you whispered, your voice so low she almost didn’t hear you.

“With who? Vision?” she asked and you nodded, looking down at your lap. “I still have time for you too, I’m not choosing him over you,” she tried to dispel your worries, not yet understanding what you were implying with your confession.

“No, Wanda, I can’t stand to see him with you,” you said, avoiding eye contact. “You don’t get it, you are choosing him and it hurts too much to be around you.”

“What are you saying?” She questioned, feeling both confused and hurt.

“I’m saying that I like you, Wanda,” you started. “As more than a friend.”

Wanda was silent for a moment, processing what you were telling her. Could she really have been so oblivious that she didn’t notice you wanted her too? It all made sense now. You’d stopped hanging out with her right around the time Vision came into the picture and she couldn’t figure out why, but now she understood.

“Please say something,” you said, feeling nervous and vulnerable as you looked up at her, unable to read her expression.

“I- I didn’t know,” she managed to get out.

“That was kind of the point,” you retorted, half-smiling to alleviate some of the tension.

Wanda let out a suppressed laugh. “I only started seeing Vision because I like you too,” she began. “I thought if I could be with him, I wouldn’t have to worry about complicating things with my feelings.”

Your mouth fell open at her words; you weren’t expecting her to ever reciprocate how you felt about her. “You do?”

She nodded. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship,” she said.

“Me neither,” you mumbled, looking down at her lips for a moment before making eye contact with her again.

She smirked when she noticed where your eyes went, making you blush. “I don’t think that’s a problem anymore,” she said, her eyes flicking down to your lips and back up.

“I think you may be right,” was all you could say before you stood up and walked around the table. Wanda stood up too, meeting you halfway as you pulled her in for a kiss that was long overdue.

You sighed against her lips, kissing her deeply the way you’d wanted to for so long. Your mouths moved together perfectly and it felt so right, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop.

This was what Wanda was waiting for.

The kiss she shared with you was everything her kiss with Vision wasn’t. It was electrifying in the best way, butterflies erupting in her stomach with every movement of your lips against hers.

When her tongue traced your bottom lip, you nearly moaned into the kiss, immediately granting her entry. Your tongue collided with hers and she whimpered, the sound going straight to your core. You brought a hand up to caress her cheek, your other hand going to the back of her head to play with her hair, causing her to let out a soft moan. This was everything you could’ve imagined and more.

Wanda’s hands came up to your face, cradling it as she deepened the kiss. Your lips and tongues moved in tandem, neither of you wanting to stop any time soon.

When you finally did detach from her, it was to catch your breath. You stayed close, your noses still touching as the two of you breathed against each other. You felt every breath from the brunette against your skin, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear as you finally opened your eyes.

You pulled back slightly to look at her, her eyes opening to meet your stare. Her pupils were dilated and you were sure yours looked similar. She looked so beautiful looking at you longingly, her lips swollen from the kiss and her breaths coming out labored, green eyes sparkling with lust and adoration.

“Wow,” you breathed out.

“Wow indeed,” she agreed, chuckling as she pulled you in for another kiss, this one much shorter than the first.

A comfortable silence fell over you, the two of you taking in the moment.

“So what now?” you asked, looking at her tenderly.

“I don’t know,” she answered, biting her lip. “It’s safe to say the friendship is ruined at this point, because I don’t want this to be the only time we do that.”

You nodded your agreement. “Me too,” you replied, your eyes falling to her lips once again. “I want you, Wanda. I have for so long.”

“I want you too,” she said without hesitation. “I’ll tell Vision it’s not working out. I want to see where this goes.”

You made a face at the mention of his name and Wanda chuckled. “Oh, you really don’t like him, huh?” She teased.

“Not one bit,” you murmured. “Not when he got to have what I wanted so badly.”

“Charmer.” She smiled at you, her cheeks turning red at your words.

“Can I kiss you again?” You blurted out, feeling your own cheeks redden at your neediness.

She responded by pressing her lips to yours once more and letting her tongue slide into your mouth, humming into the kiss contentedly.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, languidly kissing in the library after hours, catching up on lost time.

When you went back to your shared dorm for the night, you picked back up where you left off, this time with Wanda in your lap as you laid in your bed. Every once in a while, she’d grind her hips down against your lap just to hear you grunt in arousal against her lips.

You fell asleep together in your bed, Wanda’s head on your shoulder as her breathing evened out.

The following week, Wanda ended things with Vision and you took Wanda out on a proper date. Vision’s date paled in comparison to the one you took her on. This date was better simply because it was you and not him, but on top of that, you took her somewhere nice and treated her like a princess the whole night. She practically swooned every time you held the door for her, complimented her, or pulled out her chair for her.

By the end of the night, you were on cloud nine. It was just like spending time with your best friend, but this was infinitely better because you could kiss her whenever you wanted and tell her how beautiful she looked at any given moment.

You walked back to your dorm together, fingers interlocked as you listened to her talk about her dreams after college. When you made it back to the dorm, you opened the door to let her in first.

“Such a gentleman,” she joked, stepping in, and you followed.

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew what I wanted to do to you right now,” you said, pushing her against the door softly and looking at her for permission to kiss her.

A pang of arousal shot through her at your words. She wasn’t expecting you to be so bold, but she also wasn’t complaining. “Oh yeah?” she asked, playing along. “How about you show me?”

You didn’t hesitate as you kissed her hungrily, the feeling of her lips on yours making you feel dizzy with lust. You slipped your tongue into her mouth and she gasped at how eager you were, kissing you back with just as much fervor.

You trailed your kisses down to her neck, making her moan as you licked and sucked at the soft skin there. Her perfume invaded your senses and you groaned against her neck, her scent making your knees weak.

Her moans spurred you on as you sucked at her pulse point. She gripped your shoulders, her head thrown back against the door, eyes fluttering closed as you continued your assault on her neck.

She pulled you back up for another kiss, moaning into your mouth when you sunk your teeth into her bottom lip. When you finally pulled apart to catch your breath, you ran your thumb along her bottom lip, gazing into her lustful eyes.

“Are you sure about this?” You checked in with her, wanting to make sure she was really okay with what was about to happen.

“I’ve never been with a woman before,” she admitted, suddenly feeling shy. “But I want it to be you, please.”

You nearly groaned out loud hearing her beg for you, nodding as you lifted her up and carried her to your bed. You placed her down gently, crawling on top of her and kissing her again.

You once again began your descent, kissing her neck and sucking on her soft spots. She squirmed beneath you, feeling herself becoming wet under your touch.

Your fingers found the bottom of her shirt, playing with the fabric as you silently asked for permission to remove it. “Take it off,” Wanda whispered, starting to feel desperate from your slow teasing.

She sat up so you could pull the shirt off of her and reached back to unclasp her bra, letting the material fall from her shoulders. Your mouth fell open at the sight of her bare chest, nipples already hard. You’d seen her topless before while she was changing, but never like this. You’d never been allowed to look as much as you wanted, to admire her before you.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” you said, bringing your hands up to her chest as she leaned back again. Your thumbs brushed over her nipples, causing her to let out a whimper that sent heat coursing through your body.

You leaned in to take one of her nipples in your mouth, licking it gently before sucking on the hardened bud. Wanda moaned at that, the sound making you even more aroused. She sounded so pretty moaning under your touch and you couldn’t wait to hear what she sounded like when she came undone for you.

You gave her other nipple the same attention before moving down, one hand finding its way under her skirt. Your fingers reached her center, feeling a wet spot on the front of her underwear.

“You’re so wet for me,” you mumbled, in awe of how turned on she was. It almost made you feel a bit cocky, knowing it was you who made her so wet she was soaking through her panties.

“Please,” the brunette gasped out, bucking her hips up against your fingers. “Need you.”

“Yeah? You need me, pretty girl?” You cooed, rubbing your fingers along her slit over her underwear.

She nodded frantically, her hips desperately trying to meet your hand for any sort of friction against her aching pussy. You pushed aside her panties to touch her without any barriers and you let out a moan of your own at the soft, slick feeling of her folds against your fingertips. She was dripping, her wetness clinging to your skin and the lace of her panties as you dragged your fingers through her folds teasingly.

All of a sudden, you pulled your hand back and she whined, already missing the contact. “Shh, I’m just gonna take these off, okay?” You asked, subtly making sure she was comfortable with you removing the last of her clothes.

“Yeah,” she responded, lifting her hips so you could pull her skirt and panties off in one motion.

Once she was rid of her clothes, you took a moment to appreciate the view before you. Wanda was gorgeous all over, you thought to yourself, admiring her underneath you. You raked your eyes over her, committing the sight to memory as she blushed against the covers of your bed, feeling hot under your gaze.

“You can stare all you want later, right now I need you,” she said breathily, grabbing your hand and bringing it to where she needed you most. Your fingers met her wet center once more and you immediately started rubbing her clit, making her moan and buck her hips.

You kissed her again, swallowing her moans as you picked up your pace, making tight circles on her sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, just like that,” she whimpered, her face contorted in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed, heavy breaths escaping her as you brought her pleasure.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” you mumbled, watching her throw her head back and close her eyes as she got lost in the feeling of your fingers against her.

You stopped your movements just long enough to tease her entrance and upon hearing another “please,” you slid a finger inside. You fucked her with one finger for a few moments before sliding another one in, causing her to let out a guttural moan at the feeling of you stretching her out.

You kissed down her body again, making your way down to where you desperately wanted to taste her. When your hot mouth met her clit, she let out another delicious sound, her hips starting to grind against you, chasing her pleasure. Her movements caused her clit to rub against your tongue while your fingers pumped inside of her and she felt herself becoming close already.

“You taste so good,” you praised, barely moving your mouth from her pussy to speak, before reattaching your lips to her clit and sucking hard. She moaned at your words and at the pressure building in her lower stomach, continuing to rut her hips against you.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck, I’m so close,” she moaned, one hand coming to the back of your head to keep you there, as if you would ever deny her anything.

With a few more thrusts of your fingers, she came undone, loud moans filling the room as she reached her peak. Her hips stuttered against your face, her clit pulsing under your tongue while her pussy clenched around your fingers.

You slowed your movements, helping her ride out the aftershocks, small whimpers and moans leaving her as she came down from her high. She sighed, all of the tension having left her body, before pulling you up for a kiss, tasting herself on your tongue.

“I could get used that,” she hummed, smiling up at you tiredly.

“Me too,” you panted out, still incredibly turned on from seeing her cum for you. “I kinda can’t wait to do it again.”

“You want me that bad?” She teased, smirking.

“Absolutely,” you replied genuinely, staring at her with so much love and lust in your eyes it made her heart flutter and her pussy throb.

“Go ahead baby, fuck me again,” she said, your own cunt clenching around nothing at her words. You returned to your new favorite spot between her legs and did exactly what she told you, her hand in your hair guiding you the whole time.

After three more rounds, Wanda was spent, and you joined her at the head of the bed, letting her turn towards you and rest her head on your shoulder. You held her close as she traced patterns on your arm, catching her breath after falling apart for you so many times.

“Do you still need help with physics?” She asked, breaking the silence.

You chuckled at that. “Yes, desperately,” you responded, letting a hand come up to play with her hair. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

She laughed, finding it amusing that you’d needed her help the past few weeks but were too stubborn to ask for it. “Study session this week?” she suggested, her eyes falling closed at the feeling of your fingers on her scalp.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” you said, smiling happily, feeling at peace in the arms of the girl you loved.

You never would’ve thought you would be so grateful for having to take a physics course, but now you were certain it was the best thing that had ever happened to you.

[covenofagatha]

Agnes x reader age gap headcanons (NSFW)

Writing is hard right now but I'm having thoughts about a coworker/age gap (where agnes is a bit insecure about it) agnes x reader relationship so thought I'd just bullet point them to get it out lol but I might try to write the whole thing at some point

You've known Agnes from afar for a long time but you've gotten closer to her over the past few weeks now and even though you're about twenty-five years younger than her and new on the police force, you both get along very well

She's a tough nut to crack and known as the sarcastic grump around the station but you always manage to make her laugh

It's hard to tell how she feels because sometimes she's cold but sometimes she pats you on the knee and invites you to her office so you can sit there while she works

You like to tease her and be a little bit of a brat towards her but you think that she likes it

Someone tells her that she "looks good for her age" and she's a bit offended so you crack jokes about it because she's the hottest woman you know and it's easy to hide that if you say it sarcastically (but you also want her to know that she's attractive)

She calls you "kid" sometimes and you know that you shouldn't like it as much as you do and it's supposed to put some distance between the two of you but you think she might like calling you that too

At the end of the quarter, a few officers go out to a bar to celebrate and the only reason you go along is because Agnes is going

You talk to her the whole time, but what's more important is that she wants to talk to you the whole time

Two drinks later, you're a bit tipsy and being overly touchy with her and she says, "Didn't take you for a lightweight, kid." And because you're not thinking clearly, you tell her that you just want her attention

She smirks and says, "You always have it" and your stomach heats up with a mix of the alcohol and the sentiment

You don't remember much after that but you do know that you end up almost sitting in her lap without a care in the world about if anyone else sees you

The humid air sobers you up when it's time to leave and you slowly walk next to Agnes to where your cars are parked (because you parked right next to hers just to make the evening last longer) and you're desperate to keep her here with you

But she just leans against the hood of her police cruiser because maybe, just maybe, she doesn't want to leave yet either

The conversation becomes more flirtatious on both sides and you're so close to her that your knees are brushing against hers and you can still smell the beer on her mouth

She says something funny and flattering and the faint buzzing in your brain overrides all logic and you lean into kiss her softly

"Come on, kid, you don't want someone old like me," she scoffs

You show her just how much you do by wrapping your arms over her shoulders and riding her thigh right there in the parking lot until you come

Her hands dig into your hips to guide you while she grunts in your ear and all you can think about is how thankful you are that you both parked far away from everyone else

"Not bad for someone your age," you quip after her pant leg is drenched with your wetness and she barks out a laugh before spanking your ass and pulling you into the backseat of her car to fuck you properly

She likes to pack while at work and make sure you know about it from the beginning of the day and then tease you by pressing against you and making suggestive comments but she doesn't give you any relief until work is over

It's absolute torture but there's something so rewarding about sinking to your knees under her desk after everyone else leaves to pull the toy out from her pants and look up at her through your eyelashes while you suck on it and she gives you praises through gritted teeth

"Such a good slut" and "you're sucking on my cock so good, hon" and "what a desperate whore for someone twice your age" and "come on, kid, I know you can take more"

You straddle her in her chair and ride her until she picks you up and lays you on her desk and fucks you hard and rough and then both of you come all over her police reports that you distract her from doing

The chief makes comments about how they're always sticky when she turns them in and you just snicker while Agnes glares at you

You make it up to her by getting under her desk during your lunch break and eating her out until she comes all over your face twice and has to actively pull you away while you're going for a third time because she's too sensitive

"Kid, you're going to kill me," she says, trying to sound gruff but her voice is thick

You smirk and lean your wet cheek against the inside of her knee. "Too old for more?"

Agnes frowns and you know you're going to pay for that later, but it's completely worth it

You make sure to tell her how hot she is all the time because you know she gets a little insecure about her age but she can't call you a liar because you'll just drag her hand down between your legs so she can feel for herself just how hot you find her

The age stuff stops bothering her after a little bit

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

new normal. l Joel Miller

Summary: your life went on, only the worries were the same

Warnings: some smut (+18) but not too much, fluff, some worries, Reader is pregnant, Ellie and Tommy show up here, boring chapter

A/N: i wanted to write something before i leave and give it to you when i'm not home. i hope you'll welcome these scribbles warmly. i love their story so much and I hope you like it too.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

Joel Miller was in bed when he felt a sweet-smelling weight settle on his back. Something wet touched his neck, and then someone kissed his cheek. A muffled groan escaped his throat.

"Are you asleep?" a quiet but self-satisfied voice sounded in his ear.

"Not anymore..." he murmured. Another kiss. He reached his hand back and felt wet and soft skin under his fingers. "What time is it?"

"It's almost seven." you replied. Another two kisses and a gentle bite on the ear.

Joel rolled over on his back with difficulty, because you weren't going to make it easy for him, and when he rubbed his eyes he saw the sweetest sight in the world. Your hair, still wet, fell over your face. Smiling eyes stared at him, and the open robe revealed that you had nothing underneath.

"You couldn't sleep?" you shook your head. "What's gotten into you, huh?"

"I have no idea, but you know what?" Joel raised his eyebrows and you leaned down and whispered in his ear. "I want you. Now. Please..."

"Please always works." he replied and a moment later he took your face in his hands and moved to capture your lips with his. 

You tasted like mint toothpaste. He didn't know why it was so important to him at that moment. Nimble fingers quickly took off your robe and a second later you were lying on your back and Joel was nestling between your spread thighs.

For the past few days you had been in a honeymoon state, or at least that's what Joel called it in his head. You were full of energy and your appetite for intimacy grew at a very fast pace. There were days when Joel would come home and you would greet him with such sparkling eyes that you didn't even have to say anything more. No, he wasn't complaining, but if he was fifteen or at least ten years younger, he would definitely be able to do more.

But there was something about it that pleased him the most - normalcy. His mind was filled with thoughts of everything that was happening, and most of all, you.

"Fuck, I love you so much..." he moaned as he started moving inside you.

"I love you too, Joel Miller." you replied and pulled him in to kiss him hard.

Sometimes he imagined the world was normal. Like in that bed, with your body right underneath his, that was a slice of normal. If it weren't for this fucking pandemic, that would be your normal. 

He'd be making love to you in your shared bed. You'd be married, engaged, or just together, because would that even matter? Sarah would be all grown up, maybe have her own family, kids... And you'd be carrying another child of his, a new beginning. Maybe it was crazy, but the thought was really beautiful to Joel. 

But then he'd remember Ellie. If Sarah were alive, he probably would never have met Ellie. She'd be living with her parents, her real ones. How could he not have her in his life? Joel didn't think he could give her up now.

And you? Did anyone really give him a guarantee that he would have met you if the world hadn't lost its mind? Maybe that was the only normality he could have. Maybe that was how his path was supposed to go.

But Joel really appreciated it, every single day. Every morning when he saw Ellie and you, every minute spent together, every kiss. It was like tearing something for himself from the claws of changing fate. And Joel wanted to hold on to it.

He met you at the moment when it was supposed to happen. In the place and time right for both of you. You had walked such a difficult path that he was already grateful for what you had together. And you were supposed to have even more. Fate was kind to him.

You didn't notice him when he entered the bedroom, too busy looking at yourself in the mirror. He watched as you rolled up your shirt, looking at your belly. Your clothes still hid it well.

Finally, you looked up and saw Joel's reflection. A smile formed on your lips.

"Hey, beautiful." he said quietly with a smirk.

"I look like I ate two solid meals at Russo's." you said with a sneer. "I thought it'd be bigger by now."

Dark eyes stared at you with awe but also amusement. Joel could see perfectly how your body changed almost every day. He loved it.

"It's perfect. It looks better than I could have imagined." he said and your face lit up. "Are you going to Ann?" You nodded reaching for your sweatshirt. "I can walk you out, I have to meet Tommy."

"Is something wrong?" 

He came closer and slid his hand under your sweatshirt where your treasure was hidden. The roundness of your belly was palpable under his fingers. A sweet kiss landed on your temple. "No, nothing like that. Don't worry."

After the attack on Jackson, you knew that many people had taken it badly. Fear and dread hung in the air like a strange fog for weeks. Even Joel was more restless, sleeping worse. You felt like he was awake at night, listening to every creak and rumble. Like the threat was standing on your porch, waiting.

He wanted to protect you, he still had it in him, and you understood that. Living in Jackson had let your guard down for a while, and now you couldn’t afford it.

“We need to reinforce the walls around Jackson. Maybe add more guard posts?”

Joel looked at the map on his desk and pointed to a few places. “We can put them here. But we’ll need more men to build them,” he said. “We’ll also reinforce the gates.”

“We’ll be working with more patrols over the next few weeks. I want to make sure there aren’t any strangers hanging around.”

“Jesse didn’t find any leads?”

Tommy shook his head. “Maybe it was just one group? But we can’t risk it.”

For a moment, they both thought. The faint rays of sunlight streamed into the room as both men were lost in their thoughts. Finally, Tommy spoke up.

"The ones we caught said there were no more. That it was just this one group."

Joel rubbed his chin and shook his head. "Possibly. But can we trust them?"

"Maybe two groups of Riders joined forces, huh? They wanted to try their luck. They're all dead, so we should be safe."

Joel leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head, wondering something. "What if someone was watching from outside? They sent a message to the rest of the group."

"Do you think there might be more people like that?"

Joel shrugged. "I have no idea, Tommy. We need to reinforce the gates though. We have too many people here." Too valuable people, he wanted to add, but he stopped himself. It was already hard enough to convince Tommy to hide the weapons in the basement of the house. You didn't know that, but Joel preferred to be prepared for anything. Your backpacks were packed too, because if the need arose...

They both jumped when they heard footsteps on the stairs, then someone knocked on the door. Tommy's face lit up at the sight of you.

"Hi! Nice to see you." he greeted. Joel noticed how Tommy had instantly hidden all of his previous worries on his face so you wouldn't notice. Did he do the same? Did you read Tommy as well as you read Joel?

"I hope I'm not interrupting," you said, walking in and unzipping your jacket. "Beautiful weather, isn't it? I saw Maria and Benji. She told me to tell you she was waiting for you with dinner."

Tommy's smile widened. "Thanks. I'll be right over. And how's my favorite nephew or niece?"

“Good. We’re growing up slowly.” You looked at Joel, his hand clearly moving the papers to cover what he and Tommy had been poring over moments earlier. “Joel says he sees changes every day, but I’m not so sure.”

Tommy looked at his brother, clearly impressed. “That old guy is observant, isn’t he? When spring comes, you won’t be hiding anything anymore.” He stood up and gathered his things. “I’m going home. I promised Maria I’d take Benji. See you for dinner on Sunday?”

You both nodded, and Tommy left. You took his place in front of the desk, watching Joel carefully.

“How’s Ann?” he asked.

“Good. But she’s worried about Shane patrolling more often.” You sighed. “She understands it’s necessary, but… You get it.”

"Yes. But we have to get through this. Tommy wants us to reinforce the walls." 

"That's good, right? They got here pretty quickly last time." 

Joel nodded. "We can't let that happen again."

Quiet sounds reached the bedroom where you were changing the sheets. Joel and Ellie were sitting downstairs. The girl had been learning to play the guitar for a long time, and Joel was very involved in it. He had a lot of patience, and the time he spent with Ellie was very important to both of them.

The fact that you were a family was simply obvious to you. Back then, by the river, you didn't just find this young girl, you found a home. And now you created this home together. You were already finishing folding the laundry when Joel quietly slipped into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

“She went to Dina’s,” he sighed. “If this keeps up, we’ll forget what she looks like.”

You smiled. “You weren’t like that? I’m sure you were out late wandering around.”

“That’s why I know now why it bothered my mother so much. Sarah wasn’t like that.”

The name of his dead daughter fell from his lips so naturally that for a moment you didn’t even notice. It took a moment for you to speak up again.

“Do you think about her?”

He nodded, sitting on the bed. "Almost every day, and now even more often." He sighed. "Ellie's older than her now and we're having a new baby soon. I wonder what she'd think of that."

"Do you think she'd like Ellie?"

"Yeah. They're different, but they're teenagers, right? They'd get along." He ran a hand through his hair and scratched the back of his neck. "I think you'd love her too."

You smiled softly, putting his washed shirt aside. "She was a part of you. I'm sure I would have loved her in an instant."

You were silent for a moment. The warm memory of Sarah hung between you. Finally, it was Joel who broke the silence.

"When Sarah came along, I was too young. Now I feel too old." he said, as if he had blurted out something he'd been thinking about for a long time. He looked at you lovingly, but like he really needed you. “I love you so much and I really want this. I just hope I can do it.”

You stood up and carefully straddled his lap, placing your hands on his shoulders.

“We’re in this together, remember? You and me. I see how you feel about Ellie, I hear you talking about Sarah. Our baby will have the greatest father in the world.”

“I think you’re overestimating me.”

“And I think we have a lot more to worry about. You’re not as old as you say. And I wanted this too, so…” He placed his hands on your hips, and you brushed your lips against his. “I’m grateful for what I have. I never thought I’d ever have so much.”

“You’re too good for me, you know that?”

“Sometimes.” You chuckled. “Come on. We’re alone. Let’s take a shower together, and then I’ll show you how good I can be for you.” 

He captured your lips in a tender kiss. It was soft, full of what he wanted to tell you but couldn't put into words. But you understood. You knew him so well that he didn't need to say anything more.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again @callmebyyournick-name @hiroikegawa @mandaloriankait @mmmunson @grace-928 @umadirectioner

[juicebuck]

one last frottage friday post. before bed. a bedtime story if you will. anyway. and the thing about it is, it's the only time they really let themselves say what they want to say. to each other. like, and sometimes this is How they communicate these things. to each other. while they're pressed together. bearing in mind they're still "platonic" or well. at least not labelling it as anything else. just besties. helping each other. but the more it happens the more things spill out between them. things like "you're one of the most important people to me" "do you have any idea how much you matter to me?" and it just keeps escalating. buck's grinding against eddie's thigh on the couch and eddie just, he needs buck to know. like it’s imperative actually that buck know "you're mine. you can't leave, buck. you gotta—fuck. stay. i want you to stay. live here. with me. us." and buck comes hard and eddie grinds up against him, follows, as buck says "i'd stay here forever with you." but this is, Crucially, the only time they say these things. declarations. and it gets to a point where they're not just doing it because of, well. comfort, or being horny, or helping each other out, or whatever they're telling themselves. but like, they're also doing it so they CAN say these things. because it's easier, somehow, to say them like this, pressed against each other. eddie's got buck pinned against the kitchen counter, buck's hands are on eddie's ass, pulling him in. dick against dick. buck's panting against eddie's neck. and eddie huffs into his ear "i think you're the love of my life" and buck pulls harder, rasps "fuck. eddie. i love you. i love you." and after. when they've both come. when they'd usually kiss, breathe, then ultimately put themselves back together and act like this is all extremely normal behaviour. this time, they don't. they can’t. neither of them can let go. they kiss and they keep kissing and eventually, eddie says, "buck" and buck's like "don't. just one more minute. just give me—" and eddie's like "i meant it. you're the love of my life" and buck's like "is this you giving me one more minute?" and eddie's like "no. this is me giving you the rest of my life."

[layla4567]

A good company

Bob/Sentry x Fem!reader

Summary: You're part of the Thunderbolts and have powers like Wanda's (I don't specify the color). You're very useful in battle, however, your lack of practice causes you to faint due to lack of energy. The team decides that it is best for you to stay in the tower.

Warnings: sexual tensión, fluff, descriptions of action scenes (fights, shooting, etc.), beta read, Bucky and the reader are very close (like siblings relationship), sfw

Once again, a complicated mission had emerged out of nowhere. Terrorists were threatening to blow up an office building near the area.

"Why does it always have to be bomb threats? How unoriginal." you said, sighing in annoyance.

Everyone was already in the living room adjusting their suits and preparing their weapons. In your case, you only needed your hands as weapons, so you simply put on your fingerless gloves. Bob, who was sitting in an armchair, got up to watch them prepare.

"For the same reason they always choose New York as a point of attack" Yelena said and everyone laughed softly.

Bucky asked if everyone was ready as he spun his metal arm back like a windmill. You rolled your eyes in amusement, knowing he did that just for attention since his arm was always perfectly fitted and hard to get out of place, unless, well, you're a man with the strength of thousands of suns, like Bob or rather Sentry. Anyway.

Everyone nodded confidently. We were about to leave when Bob approached us hesitantly. He seemed to want to say something, but he bit his tongue and simply said

"Good luck guys, and take care"

Everyone gave the brunette a sweet smile. Yelena cautiously approached him.

"Are you sure you'll be okay here? Anyway, you know we'll be back as soon as possible"

"Yeah, if they don't kill us in the middle" Walker exclaimed and you poked him in the rib which made him let out a small grunt.

Bob smiled shyly. "Yes, I know, I'll be fine. I just don't feel confident about going yet."

The blonde woman nodded with a half-smile and, after placing a hand on his shoulder, left the elevator followed by the others. Only you stayed behind to see Bob off. You trotted toward him, your ponytail swishing, and, standing on your toes, you wrapped your arms around his neck, almost knocking him off his feet.

Whenever you went out on a mission, you gave him a big bear hug in case you never saw him again. Being a superhero was dangerous, and you never knew what would happen to you. But you also wanted to comfort him and assure him that you would try to make it through safely and that you cared about him. Bob smiled warmly and hugged you back, returning the warmth of the hug.

"I promise you we'll be back soon and we'll be fine" Your voice sounded a little muffled as your face was close to the crook of his neck.

"I know you will"

"C'mon witch, it's time to go!" Bucky shouted, naming you with that affectionate nickname he gave you.

You quickly pulled away, to Bob's disappointment as he tried to hold you back a few seconds longer. You ran to the elevator, babbling apologies. Before the doors closed, you waved to Bob one last time, and he raised his hand with a smile.

Bob approached the large window sighing as minutes later he watched them leave in the ship through the skies, hoping they wouldn't take too long.

Once on the plane, everyone fastened their seatbelts. Yelena was driving, and Alexei was next to her. The others were in the back, and you were next to Bucky. You were admiring the scenery from the window when his voice brought you out of your trance.

"Do you think you'll be okay down there? That you'll be able to... handle it?"

You looked at him thoughtfully, knowing what he meant. On previous missions, you'd returned to the tower exhausted, with muscle aches and even on the verge of unconsciousness. Your magic was so powerful that sometimes you thought it couldn't fit inside your body, like a very small jar trying to fill it and not being able to.

"Yeah, I think so.." you answered not very sure

Bucky at your side frowned slightly. "We already told you not to overdo it, we can defend ourselves well."

"I know, I know! stop lecturing me"

Sometimes your friend seemed more like your father or your brother trying to lecture you on morals. He just sighed, and looked straight ahead. However, his words had become etched in your head and were hard to shake. You knew he was right, and you also knew that was the reason Bob looked so worried every time the group left, and so relieved when they returned almost intact.

You didn't have time to think about anything else because Alexei informed them they had arrived. While Yelena maneuvered and parked the ship, the others were already unbuckling their seatbelts to get out. The landscape was terrifying; there was smoke and dust that made you cough, people were running scared for cover, and men with guns were pointing at us to shoot. No matter how much you'd fought like this before, you never got used to the sight of your city in chaos.

"Okay, here's the plan: Alexei and John on the right, Y/n and Ava on the left, and you, Bucky, with me in front. Is that clear?"

"Clear as water!" exclaimed Red Guardian happily.

You were hesitant. "Wouldn't you rather I cover you?" You said to Yelena and Bucky.

"And who covers for me?" Ava said offended, looking at you.

Yelena closed her eyes, gathering patience. "Just stick to the plan, okay?" Then she looked at you softly. "We'll be fine. Just cover Ghost, alright?"

You nodded, unable to argue anything, just obey.

"WE ARE THE THUNDERBOLTS!" yell Alexei

"Don't use that name" Bucky made a face of disgust

"Yeah, it's awful" said Walker

The Russian girl rolled her eyes and separated from the group, pulling out her pistol and firing, followed by Bucky. The others went their separate ways, and you stuck close to Ava.

Two soldiers were shooting in your direction, so you quickly created a shield with magic, protecting you and Ava while she became intangible and passed through the men to attack them from behind. With quick movements of your fingers, you threw the soldiers away while orbs of colored light from your powers crossed the sky. You tried to be fast, but there were too many bullets and your arms were starting to tire. Everyone seemed to have everything under control when suddenly two cars exploded and flew towards Yelena and Bucky. He stood in front of the blonde and with his metal arm, stopped the car, which flew away, but he hadn't realized that another one was also heading towards them, so fast that Bucky couldn't stop it. Alarmed, you realized this; Ghost became visible at your side.

"Go, I can handle these" she said confidently

You nodded, thanking her with a look, and quickly ran in front of them. You raised your hands and stopped the car in its tracks, and with a gasp, you set it down on the ground. The overuse of your powers was already starting to take its toll on you; you could feel it; fatigue seemed to be overcoming you. You turned around with a tired smile. They, startled, just nodded. John, Ava, and Alexei had joined you.

"Are you okay, is everyone alright?" Yelena asked you and then looked at everyone

With your hands on your hips, you were about to answer yes when a second, even louder explosion sounded behind you. Everyone turned around in fear, watching as the tower of a building began to fall away, billowing out smoke as black as night. Debris fell, smashing cars and light poles.

"Shit..." Yelena sighed worry

"What the fuck John, didn't you tell us the bomb was inside the building?!" Ava yelled angrily.

"Oh I'm so sorry for being busy STOPPING SEVEN SOLDIERS"

Yelena's father raised his hands "HEY HEY ENOUGH, WE HAVE MORE IMPORTANT THINGS TO FIGHT ABOUT NOW!"

"We have to get the people out. Now." The blonde said

Along with Bucky and the others, they began guiding people to safety. They had to move quickly before the building collapsed completely. They were less than halfway down when a noise made them look up. The top of the terrace had split in half and was falling at high speed along with another part of the tower. The group hurried people out and ran for cover, except for you.

"WAIT DON'T DO IT!" Bucky yelled

Too late. You had already positioned yourself beneath the large piece of rubble that was falling on you, and with the last of your strength, you raised your arms and, with your magic, stopped it before it fell. But you didn't count on the fact that it was much heavier than you could bear, and you began to pant as your knees buckled and your back arched. The few people left were already leaving. Your biceps began to tremble, and your face wrinkled with exertion. When you sensed there was no one left to get out, that's when your powers began to slowly fade from your fingers, and the piece of building fell near you, leaving a crater in the pavement but without hurting you or anyone else.

You lowered your arms as if they were made of rags and you wobbled slightly, trying to stand awkwardly. The group ran up to you, worried, asking if you were okay. You were short of breath and your body felt very fatigued. Before you could answer, your vision blurred and you fainted in Bucky's arms.

When they arrived at the tower, Bob was already standing by the window waiting for them. When he heard the elevator doors open, he smiled in relief, but his smile disappeared the moment he saw you unconscious in Bucky's arms.

"Wh- what happened?" he said a little scared

No one answered; they were too busy focusing all their attention on you. Bucky had placed you on a very large sofa that almost felt like a bed. Yelena realized that panic was threatening to take hold of Bob, so she put both hands on his shoulders.

"She's ok, she will be ok. She just drained her energy again because her powers"

He nodded in understanding, but a worried frown crossed his face as he looked at you. Bob stayed by your side as long as necessary. Several hours passed until you finally woke up. When you slowly opened your eyes, you saw the honeyed brown of his. He looked at you, still a little worried, wanting to make sure you were better.

"Bob?"

He held your hand gently and you smiled softly. Then, yawning, you stretched and slowly straightened up.

"Careful" he said

Yelena and Bucky entered the living room and when they saw you awake, a gesture of relief enveloped them.

"You're awake" Bucky said

"How long did I sleep?"

"About 6 hours"

Six hours, damn it. You'd never been unconscious for so long. You slowly sat up on the couch to avoid dizziness and headaches.

"Are you better now? You still remember everything?" Bob asked a bit worried

You smiled sweetly. "Yeah, I was trying to stop a building from falling down, and then poof! I fainted. Nothing new." You said ironically.

"Bob stayed by your side all this time, he even forgot to eat" Yelena said casually.

You looked at the brown-haired man, asking if it was true, and he said he wanted to make sure you weren't alone when you woke up. His words caused a divine warmth in your chest as you smiled widely.

. . . . . .

Days after that mission, they were called back for another emergency. You were already preparing to leave when Bucky stopped you with a hand on your shoulder. Your smile disappeared, and confusion appeared in your frown.

"Sorry y/n, not today"

"Not today what?"

"You can't come with us," Walker said.

You looked at everyone, surprised and a little hurt. Their serious faces showed a hint of concern for you, and you hated it. You hated that they gave you that look of pity as if you were a weak, scared rabbit unable to defend yourself.

"Excuse me? I think I heard wrong. Do you want me to stay here?"

"That's exactly what you heard and what you'll do, at least for today." Yelena took a step towards you.

Bob, who had been listening silently, approached you, fearing an argument. You felt your blood boiling with anger inside you.

"So you're going to get rid of me so easily? You're going to abandon me like that? And everyone's okay with it?" you said annoyed.

"We all think it's the best for you," said John.

"Oh cut the shit, Walker!"

He rolled his eyes, "I give up, you guys talk."

Yelena stood in front of you. "Y/N, listen, we care about your health and we care about you, and we can't risk what happened the other day happening again. You're putting yourself at risk, and at the same time, you're putting us at risk. That's why it's best you stay with Bob today."

Her tone was firm but persuasive. You knew she was right. You didn't want to hold the team back or inflict any harm on yourself. But you felt betrayed by her not warning you sooner. You could have at least come to an agreement.

"But-!" you tried to reply

"Please, Y/N, don't make it harder. You'll stay here, and that's the end of the discussion" she said authoritatively

Bob slowly approached and from behind placed a hand on your shoulder, you looked at him "I think they're right, we just want to take care of you"

You smiled sadly at him and then looked at the others "and what am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

"You can train in the room upstairs, you need to improve your endurance and strength so that this doesn't happen to you again." Bucky suggested

Everyone agreed and you had no choice but to nod reluctantly. When everyone left and it was just you and Bob, you sighed in annoyance, not because you were alone with Bob but because they had abandoned you even if it was for your own good.

You went to your room to change your clothes. A tank top and gym shorts would suffice. You went up to the training room, which was filled with punching bags and other gym equipment. You began to bandage your hands to avoid hurting yourself while muttering insults. You were still angry, and it showed in your fighting style. You let your anger guide your legs as you kicked the bag hard, snorting like a bull.

Your fists quickly stunk up the bag. The adrenaline was so high that you barely felt any pain in your knuckles. After a while, where you were already sweating slightly, you decided to rest. Suddenly, the helplessness of not being able to help and feeling limited and incapable by your powers filled your chest with guilt and poisonous anger, and you hit the bag again, this time with a grunt. At that moment, Bob was coming up the stairs and had frozen in the doorway, staring at you, not daring to enter. But you saw him.

"Uh so sorry, I just came to see if you needed anything"

He couldn't help but let his eyes flick down your bare thighs and back up to your face. You smiled amusedly and decided that maybe he could help you. You needed some hand-to-hand combat practice.

"Actually, now that you mention it, yes. Would you like to practice wrestling with me?"

He swallowed nervously. "Are you sure? Don't you want me to help you with anything else?"

"Very sure, come on." You approached and took his hands to bring him to the center of the room. He insisted, saying he didn't think it was a good idea since he didn't want to hurt you because sometimes he didn't have the strength to do it. You assured him that he could never hurt you.

"Don't worry, we'll start with something easy, and you don't need to change clothes, the ones you're wearing will be enough." You looked him up and down. He was wearing a white short-sleeved shirt and gray jogging bottoms. Unconsciously, under your gaze, Bob felt vulnerable and blushed.

You both got into a fighting stance, one foot in front of the other, facing each other. You threw a punch in the air in front of his face, and he dodged it by ducking and going under your arm. He mimicked your punch, and you dodged his too. At first, the movements were slow, like a dance, but as you got used to it, the rhythm increased, and kicks were added.

You kicked at the side of his abdomen and he blocked it with his hands. Bob tried to throw a kick towards your face and you ducked to dodge it. Then you turned so that your back collided with his chest, so close you could feel his heart beating rapidly and you didn't know if it was from the exercise or from you. You took a few seconds to feel his body heat and his breath near your ear that sent delicious shivers down your spine. Until now he had only followed what you ordered him, imitating your movements like a mirror but with each step he gained more confidence in himself and when you landed a soft elbow in his abdomen, he put his arms on your chest and neck, without hurting you of course.

"Is this okay?" He asked

"Perfect" you smiled

You placed your hands on the sturdy forearm that was on your neck and felt his prominent veins. The other arm pressed chastely against your chest while your butt pressed against his hips, preventing you from moving. Not that it bothered you; you could stay like that for hours, and something told you that he preferred it that way too.

"Now I want you to try to take me down."

He blinked in confusion. "Wait, really? You sure?"

"Just do it, Bob"

He liked the way his name sounded from your mouth and tried to suppress a smile. Then, doing what you asked, he tried to pull you back gently, but you placed one foot back right between his legs and, twisting your torso, wrapped your arms around his and, with all your strength, you knocked him back, falling on top of him. Bob let out a grunt combined with a moan.

You put your hands on his chest and looked at him worriedly, maybe you were the one who had overdone it with force this time "I'm so sorry, are you okay?" you asked while you placed a lock of hair behind your ears.

He closed his eyes at the blow, his slightly pinched face looking cute to you. Strands of sweaty hair swirled around his forehead and you brushed them away. "Yeah, don't worry. You did great," he grinned.

Now he looked at you, your face was very close to his so he stopped to admire your curled eyelashes, your bright eyes and your rosy lips. Both of you were breathing heavily and your hot breaths mingled with each other. You noticed a heat in his chest where your hands were and your skin itself was slightly warming up where he held his hands on your waist, stabilizing you in place.

"Uhm, do you think it will take a while for the guys to arrive?" you asked.

Bob was about to answer that he hoped he could stay like this longer when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Before anyone could do anything, the entire group appeared at the entrance to the room like apparitions.

"What the hell is going on here?" Bucky asked, while Alexei laughed behind him.

You quickly broke away from Bob and in your haste you almost stepped on his crotch with your knee. When you both stood up blushing and panting silly excuses Yelena said

"We left you here with Bob to train, not to make out. Next time Ava stays with you." She left, rolling her eyes in disgust.

[capellla]

"ᵀʰⁱˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵖʳᵉᵗᵗʸ⁻ᵍⁱʳˡ ᵐᵃⁿᵗʳᵃ, ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢᵗᵘⁿⁿᵃ, ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ˢʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ʷᵃʸˢ"

Why Are You So Pretty? | PAC

I know it's hard to feel beautiful or confident sometimes and especially in these times many of us are struggling with this. But I believe that we all have a unique beauty. Do you want to know why you are so pretty? Choose the image or images you are most drawn to and see.

Pick an Image

Paid Readings Masterlist Dividers -> @dollywons

1-

Oh first of all, you have so many parts that will make you look pretty. When the wind blows and covers all your feelings and you are one step closer to feeling free, you will realize how beautiful you are. Because there are so many things that really make you beautiful. And let's take a deep look at them.

Your dark side makes you beautiful. Yes, you heard right. When the whole world is dark and everything has lost its color and you have perhaps lost all your light.. you look beautiful. The reason you look beautiful lies deeper. Think of a story in a book where a character living in darkness actually gains and discovers his true power. There is so much to discover in you and your angels and tarot cards whisper that you look like a lotus flower in contrast to all this darkness. Unique and difficult conditions and surrounded by ugliness, but you are truly beautiful in the midst of it all. Purely, even if there are flaws that try to pull you down, maybe a scar or more, but what makes you beautiful is everything that makes you who you are. And that whole that they all form together.

 If nature spoke more it would surround you like a princess or prince and offer you its fruits. There is something natural about you, a natural and commanding beauty. Quiet and only your eyes speak and it is felt in your aura. There are dark parts but it is attractive. I see the leaves falling in the blowing wind, none of these leaves are rotten, they just cannot resist the wind. The words and actions that come from you are exactly like that. There is something irresistible about you. A stunning power. And you truly command silently, and the beholder cannot resist you. There is something deep and peaceful about you in this depth, perhaps you have balanced and calmer facial features. The shape of your body does not matter, every body shape is beautiful and we do not question that in this reading. I am talking about the things that make you unique and beautiful and that are special only to you, and the deeper I look into you, the more I discover in you. A predator tearing apart its prey, a mother adoring her newborn baby... and a calm sky in the middle of all of this, that sky is you. Do you get the vibe I am trying to give? In all that chaos, everything finds you again, everything becomes complicated, maybe it becomes wild, maybe it becomes compassionate, but it comes back to you. You have this aura too, calm but more.

When we look at the moon and all the other celestial bodies, we see that they all move in a beautiful order. Sometimes some stars explode and go out, sometimes a meteorite hits the earth and brings an end to it. In all the order, you see both the scary and the beautiful at the same time. And time has no meaning. I am telling you these because your appearance seems to reflect this. Take a look at everything you see as ugly and dark in yourself, you will realize that you actually have a perfect order and its real effect. No matter how you see yourself, everything you find dark and unattractive, that is where your power lies. You may have a balanced facial feature and a plus feature that you think completely spoils your appearance, but this is far from making you ugly, it gives you a strong aura. He who is calm and lost in silence is not weak or ineffective, you should know this.

2-

Wow, I can tell just by looking at the cards how pretty you look. No matter what you do, there is something that shines in you; like love, passion, strength. No matter what situation you are in, you hold your head high and don't let anyone talk bad to you. Because you know that you only have yourself, that you can take refuge in yourself. Others may call it selfishness, arrogance, hypocrisy, but you know very well what the truth is. There are many things that make you beautiful. And knowing your own worth is one of them.

You have a mature energy and you could have more defined features. Maybe more curves or maybe more defined facial features. Your hair suits your face very well, especially when you leave it natural. It suits you very well with its natural color and shape. You look beautiful when you cry. When you show your true strength and are not afraid of reactions, when you carry the difficulties proudly like a victory on your back, and when you work with the calloused curves of your hands, you are truly beautiful.

You make people fall in love with you. And you become the love of their lives. God is looking down and smiling. The sun is showing itself again. Your beauty is a blessing.

Have you ever wondered why other people run away from you or distance themselves? It is because of your power. People are aware of this and are afraid because they are used to superficiality, they are used to fakeness, they are not ready to hear the truth, not at all.

You live like love, the bowl of food you make is full of love, your hands are full of love when you water your flowers, your smile is full of love when you smile at someone. Seeing and loving you is like a long journey, there is so much to discover, so many landscapes to see, deep blue seas, birds flying in the sky. It is very difficult not to get lost in you. If you can find someone who can truly understand you and is not afraid to look at a map, then you will understand. And when the words that come out of this person's lips tell you how beautiful you are, then you will understand. Because while you are moving forward freely and carrying those difficulties on your back, you are missing out on so much about yourself.

Loving you and seeing you is like everything coming together one after another. Your beauty creates a sense of harmony in people, when they look at you, they remember how beautiful life really is. And they want to get lost and discover you.

You have a beauty that stands the test of time, whether it is primitive times, renaissance or modern times, wherever and whenever you are, you have a face and beauty that can be called beautiful.

You have a life-giving and magnificent aura like a willow tree, maybe simple, maybe strong, maybe powerful, maybe flowing like water. And everyone who sees you pauses for a while to digest what they see, because they know, They know how pretty you are.

3-

When people first look at you, they may see arrogance or a power looking down on others. But I know there is more to you than that. They don't see it because they don't actually look, because the truth isn't really hidden deep down.

The sun shines behind you and makes your hair shine, could you have been a king or a queen in a previous life? Maybe a goddess? Even flowers feel ashamed in the face of your beauty. I could call you arrogant, overconfident and spoiling the fun, but these are the words of someone who is superficial and doesn't know how to see beauty.

You walk down the street as if you were on a stage and God is my witness, it is impossible not to look at you. Your beauty lies in the passion within you, your beauty lies in the flame within you. You are beauty itself. There is not a single part of you that doesn't reflect the light of your beauty. That chic necklace you wear as an accessory, your ID that says your name, the touch of your skin and the spark it gives off, you scream I am beautiful.

Keep showing yourself and being free or crazy, because people need to see this beauty. And don't be afraid to go against others or be too much for them, everything that makes you unique was created for this. Show them off and show what beauty is. Because this ugly world needs it.

And what is called "real" to others, ordinary beauty rules don't matter because you are more than them. You are more than superficial beauty rules and you transcend them. I can't lie, you have an energy and aura that not everyone is familiar with or can handle. You can't look at a sun for a long time, it damages your eyes. So you should accept some people's reactions naturally.

There is also something complicated about you. Maybe your hair gets tangled, then you go in front of the mirror with your newly woken up and swollen eyes, looking messy but very sexy. How is this possible? Can we call it a blessing or is it just because of the natural aura you emit that is special to you? I won't give the answer.

You don't think twice, you make a decision with your whole being and get down to business. Courage finds its name and existence in you. Life shows itself in you. It's like a magic spell, but it's nature. Someone who doesn't know may blame you, may say that "this person was born with luck", that everything he has is due to luck. But they will probably never know. They will never know what it means to be you. There is nothing exaggerated about you. It's like blaming the sun for shining too brightly. But there is also the fact that you can't block the sun's light, you can hide behind curtains, but that doesn't mean that the sun isn't still shining. That sun will always continue to show itself and shine. That's the truth.

4-

There is a rich energy in this pile. Clothes or money make everyone look beautiful so I won’t talk about that. I will only talk about the richness that is unique to you. You may have a different and rich cultural origin. And I see that you still somehow preserve these traditions. Whether it is with your style or your facial features. And that makes you look very pretty.

As I write these exact words, a song with the lyrics; “so pretty it hurts” is playing in the background. I know this is not a coincidence. There is something about you that makes you feel distant and at the same time very close. I want to touch you, I want to be closer to you because you are so beautiful but every time I try to touch you, you seem to move away. You make me feel very beautiful. I close my eyes and pray. You have a beauty that prays. In a pure and rich way.

I see you with your compassionate eyes telling someone something and petting a puppy. There is a spiritual air about you, a nostalgic air. Your aura makes me sigh. I feel all the sincere beauty in the world in my heart. The fact that it will all end one day makes everything more beautiful. If you are afraid of losing all the beauties you have, you should not be afraid of this. As long as your beauty exists, it is an inspiration at every age and moment.

Because you are unique and original. You are unique and you should know that one day for someone, today for someone else, you are very special and precious.

Sometimes you have to lose something you have to understand its value, I will not look at what you have lost in your life or go into this painful subject. But every wound and every scratch made you more beautiful. You had to go through these roads to have the richness you have today. Because all these memories and the marks left on your soul are what make you unique. All these marks change themselves and those wounds are filled with colorful healing energy and leave unique marks on your soul.

You are destroyed and reborn, and among all that pain, chaos and ruins, a flag is seen touching the sky. You have this wealth, this aura.

All the cosmic components come together and witness you. They enable your richness. Your beauty has more than what ordinary eyes can see. When I look at you, I see true power and nobility. I witness the true moment. The birth of a world, the birth of a child and its continuation... your eyes that make the world rich come before my eyes. They are full of light and something I cannot name. And all of this inspires me. Your beauty transcends the ordinary of the physical world.

5-

You are very beautiful and pretty. I thought for a long time how to explain it better and put it into words, but I guess there is no need for that. You have a beauty that can be accepted by everyone. You are conventionally attractive. The kind of beauty that people want to serve, want to approach you, want to be near.

There are many different colors in you, but the color I see the most clearly is black. You are like black, noble, darkly rich. But don't take my words in a negative sense because it has nothing to do with it. Black only suits you and shows your own power. Like a black hole, you attract people to you and nothing else shines where you are.

But I see that you are quiet and do not boast about all these beauties. You should not hesitate to appreciate and show them because it is the most natural thing you have and it is your right.

I will say this for those of you who are not aware, from your body shape to your facial features, you are considered beautiful by the vast majority. But is that important? No! Other people's opinions are completely unnecessary. In this reading, I will only focus on why you are truly beautiful, not on other people's selfish opinions.

I am taking the Jupiter and financial gain cards. I don't even need to tell you that you are beautiful. Because you being beautiful is a fact. It's not relative. But if I were to describe you through the eyes of people who truly love you and know you well, that's a completely different topic. You have so much more, there really is so much more.

You are noble, proud, your heart is rich but you don't give more than much to those who don't deserve it. You are aware of your power and value. Even animals and nature are drawn to you. Because you carry the most beautiful aspect of nature on your face and soul. The idea that beautiful people have ugly hearts or arrogant hearts is wrong and you are proof of that.

You are also talented, and no matter how big your dream is, this adds beauty to your beauty. People discover that there is more to you and it definitely surprises them. You have the beauty and talent that can be presented to a movie or a magazine. And you shouldn't ignore all of these, you should let them shine. You are like a reality living in a region where all the swords and lies are. That's how your aura feels. It's sharp and striking, it's noticeable and it makes it hard to even breathe. But then I calm down and the more I feel you, the more I find peace and acceptance. I accept that you are beautiful.

6-

Your beauty is like the moon, like breath, like a newly opened flower. It may seem weak and fragile, but that is far from the truth.

You break people, you break them, you make them dizzy, you make them weak. Because your delicate beauty tells them that you are the one who is fragile, but they cannot see the truth. I see that you have a truly pure beauty and appearance. Very romantic and like a poem. You have the beauty that could inspire a painter, a poet, a writer.

Contemplative and nostalgic, and your eyes shine in the darkness. And suddenly all those songs, poems, paintings come to life. Your style makes you completely special. You are completely yourself and you show and spread something of yourself to those around you. Some people judge this as being too different, while others admire it and want to be like you. But I have to say this. You do not yet know the truth very well in yourself. You do not yet know how much there is to discover in you and how much beauty you have.

The light in a weak lamp, a noble flower squeezed behind a glass, you radiate a beauty that you cannot bear to touch. It embraces you like a dream and makes you forget who you really are. Your beauty is intoxicating, and makes people want to get lost.

I want to hold your hand and show you all the beauties of the world. I want to make you taste new tastes and give you new pleasures. I want to trust you. You awaken these feelings in people. No matter how old you are, you look and will look younger than you are. I must say this. And this is one of the qualities that make you pretty.

This is very interesting because I get the moon and sun cards at the same time. Again. You surprise people.

You have the fragility of a moon but the power of a sun. Some think of you as a powerful source of light and joy, while others see you as the cause of their suffering. You make people experience different feelings at the same time. You make their heads spin and make them question the world. You are far from ordinary.

People claim your fragile beauty but avoid talking about the powerful effect you have on them. This is pure cowardice on their part and a pointless subject that I will not even mention. You are setting people free. You are breaking all those expected and believed standards of beauty and bringing innovation.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

BOY GENIUS IN LOVE

tags: nsfw, college!Ford, first relationship, fem reader, obsessive behavior, “good girl” (forgive me im weak), reader wears skirts, first time, fingering, oral sex, public sex, both u and Ford are virgins

this was a request from anon that i saved to drafts but tumblr deleted it (i’m so sorry). it was about college Ford getting addicted to you after you start dating. i hope you see this anon :(( im so sad tumblr deleted my draft + ur ask

ᯓᡣ𐭩 you met him in the back of the library, of course. because Stanford wanted silence in its purest form, though it looked like he was hiding. you were the only other person who’d choose the fifth floor annex by choice. most people thought it was dusty, haunted or simply boring. but you liked how the lamps gave off that golden-honey glow, and how the windows were always cracked open. it was pretty there.

Ford noticed you first. not that you were hard to notice. . . your soft knits and pleated skirts and glossy stockings that clung to your thighs, Ford thought you’d been dipped in onyx. always with a pen tucked behind your ear. such a smart little thing. but more than that, you read. properly. Ford watched your lips moving faintly when you hit a complicated passage, head tilted, looking like a lost kitten.

Fiddleford said he was being stupid, lurking in the same row as you day after day and never saying a word. “yer gonna pass out from sheer repression,” he said, rolling his eyes as Ford scribbled in the margins of his notebook rather than say hi. but Ford couldn’t help it. he was already enchanted. smth about the way your eyes lit up when you found the answer to your own question in the footnotes of some scientific text. how you bit your lip and tapped the page when you were trying to commit a theory to memory. adorable.

you noticed him the day he dropped his bag, books exploded across the linoleum, so you knelt down to help before he could even stammer out an apology. your hands brushed and both of you looked up at the same time. his glasses awkwardly slid down his nose. you gave him a smile. “you’re always back here, i was starting to think you were a ghost.”

Ford laughed but it came out like a cough at first because he was still so damn nervous. then he relaxed into it, eyes crinkling at the corners behind those big, sweet lenses. “you’re the ghost,” he blurted and then panicked. “i mean— not like that! i just mean, you always vanish before i can say anything. not that i’ve tried. well, i have. in my head. you know.”

“wanna study together sometime?” you asked, and to him it was the most romantic thing you could’ve possibly offered. Ford nodded so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. the next time you sat together, he brought you coffee and three backup pens. and you caught him staring at your stockings every time you crossed your legs. it was adorable.

the first time he noticed, it was unintentional. purely visual input. you were sitting across from him in the tiny study alcove you’d both claimed. he brought the books, you brought the snacks. and you leaned back to stretch so the hem of your skirt fluttered. the sunlight from the library window lit you up, letting a slow golden spill across your thighs, where your stockings ended and soft skin began. Ford saw garters. he saw lace. and immediately forgot the square root of negative one.

very weird cough escaped him as if he'd choked on the dust. get yourself together, Stanford! you didn’t seem to notice though, but it sat with him for the rest of the afternoon, searing into his hippocampus. you were wearing different stockings every day. he hadn’t imagined it. he knew he hadn’t.

and every time, he told himself: don’t look. don’t think. don’t you dare be the kind of man who makes this weird. you were his friend now. study partners, even. you brought him your class notes when he was sick, and he helped you fix your calculator when you dropped it, and sometimes you brushed lint off his sweater without even thinking about it and he had to pretend his brain wasn’t screaming inside his mind every time it happened.

and it got worse. because you liked him. you liked liked him. you smiled when he said smth about gravitational waves. you leaned in when he explained interdimensional theoreticals. you brought him muffins. you poked his shoulder when he got smth right. you played with the strap of your bag when you were nervous. and eventually, finally, you asked him if he wanted to get coffee with you, but, like, not as a study thing.

he said yes so fast he knocked over his water bottle.

Ford didn’t know how to behave around you after that. it wasn't because you were different, but because he was. Ford felt like he’d touched something radioactive as he was sweating through his t-shirt, short-circuiting when you showed up in a plaid skirt and wine-red tights. the coffee date turned into a bookstore visit. the bookstore turned into a walk. the walk turned into a shared burrito at that food truck you liked, both of you giggling and wiping salsa off each other’s mouths.

and then there was the second date. where you wore lip gloss that shimmered beautifully when you smiled, and you said, “you look cute when you fidget,” and Ford had to literally reboot his nervous system. he was so tense he dropped his fork. couldn’t stop rubbing the edge of his coat sleeve between his fingers.

your thighs are right there. you know what you're doing. you have to. right? no! no, you're just pretty. girls are pretty. you don’t have to turn into a werewolf about it, Stanford. but god, what if you'll sit on his lap. what if you'll climb into his lap and Ford would feel the fabric of your stockings against his—

stop. stop. stop. stop.

you laughed at smth he said about string theory. he was sweating because you crossed your legs. unexpectedly, you handed him a piece of your dessert and Ford stared at your lips for five seconds too long before he let you feed him.

you weren’t trying to kill him. probably. maybe. but you liked how shy he got. how he pushed his glasses up when you leaned in too close, and how he flinched every time your thigh brushed his under the table. and when you walked home together that night and your fingers barely touched, you heard him swallow so loud it made you giggle.

Stanford still thought about that first day. your lip gloss. your pretty outfits. the curve of your handwriting. but now he also thought about what it’d feel like to have you sitting in his lap during office hours, flipping through flashcards while he tried not to pass out.

and worst of all? you hadn’t even kissed him yet.

you didn’t talk about it, not really. no one ever said “we’re dating” or “you’re mine” or “i like you like that,” but it was so obvious it almost hurt. your name was always on his lips and his glasses were always smudged with your lip balm. you sat together everywhere, shared drinks, pulled each other close by the elbow, touched fingers when you passed things back and forth. and god forbid you go more than three seconds without feeling some part of each other.

and you grinded. you grinded so much. behind the library stacks. in empty classrooms. in stairwells between lectures. his coat wrapped around both of you, covering to keep it decent while your hips rocked against his, your hands in his brown hair, his handsome face flushed and dazed, breathing into your collar, afraid of making a sound.

his thighs were so solid, wrapped in those tailored wool trousers he wore all the time. cruel things, rough where they shouldn’t be, pressing into your softness, and it made the friction so good, too good, made your breath shake every time you rubbed against the hard shape of him and whispered his name.

“we shouldn’t, we shouldn’t do this here,” he always said but then why his hands stayed on your waist and his hips pressed up into yours? “someone might see,” he’d whisper against your throat, even as he kissed you under your ear, even as you rocked against him slowly, dry humping like crazy and nothing else mattered but the way you could feel him, stiff and thick through all those layers.

you’d whimper and he’d shudder. you’d breathe into each other’s mouths and whisper things like “feels so good” and “you’re so warm” and “i think i might come just like this, fuck, Ford, i’m gonna—“ and he’d hold you tighter, breathing so hard because he was going to die right there if you didn’t stop, except neither of you could stop.

and it just kept happening. the tension wound tighter and tighter. the kissing got hotter. his hand found your ass under your skirt one day and didn’t move. in respond, your fingers brushed the bulge in his pants during a movie night and you both sat frozen, breathless, two dorks in love.

you didn’t mean to give him a hand job. it just. . . happened. you were both in his dorm and he looked so flushed and desperate and pretty, you’d never seen his pupils that blown out before.

“i want,“ he said, eyes fluttering shut. “can i? i want to touch you, no. i want you to touch me.”

“yeah, okay. yeah, Ford, it’s okay.” his cock was warm, so hot through his boxers, twitching when your palm brushed over it, and you both gasped as if it was the end of the world. you watched his needy face while you touched him with slow, trembling and unsure strokes, fingers so nervous but gentle because you didn’t know exactly what you were doing but god, he whimpered and it vanished all your doubts away.

“oh my god,” Ford putted his hand over his mouth, trying to keep it all in. “feels so good, please, don’t stop, that’s s-so—“

he came in your hand. messily and helplessly. with his red face buried in your shoulder as he gasped and gasped and said your name and begged, thrusting into your hand. by the end of it it all was so sticky. heaven on earth. both of you giggling and out of breath and kind of in shock about the whole thing.

and then he wanted to try. his hand went under your clothes, had been aching to go there for weeks. six fingers trembling as he pushed your panties aside and touched your folds, your clit, your soaked softness. “you’re, you’re wet, you’re already so wet,” Stanford kissed you while he fingered you, moaned right into your mouth. and his fingers were so fucking clumsy, but you guided him with gasps and whines and little “right there, baby, like that, oh—fuck, yes—“ and your smart boy just listened, eager and panting, his whole arm flexing as he tried to give you what you needed.

when you came on his fingers it was with your forehead pressed to his, your skirt all rumpled and his name falling from your lips in hoarse sounds. Ford smiled, kissing your cheeks, your nose, your fingers. you both laughed again.

it happens on a tuesday. not a particularly romantic one, not a holiday or a celebration or an anniversary (though you both will end up counting it like one, later). you’d both been studying again, him pacing while he monologued about theories, you curled up on his bed taking notes, your thighs bare and crossed under you. he couldn’t stop staring.

you looked up, caught him. and blushed, chewing your pen cap. “what?” you asked innocently. and Ford just blinked at you, waking from a trance, and answered, softly. “i really want to make love to you.”

and that was it. just two awkward nerds with their hands shaking as they slowly stripped each other down to skin.

the first time he slid inside you, shaky, too slow, panting softly into the crook of your neck, you both cried out at once. “oh my god,” you whimpered, fingernails pressing into his back leaving red marks. “Ford, Ford, it’s so big, it’s so—“ he gasped, body trembling. “youre so tight, darling, didn’t know it would feel like this. . .”

you clung to each other, rocking messy, with no rhythm at all, your shaking legs wrapped around his waist, moaning so loud because neither of you had any idea how to handle it. and when you came with stars behind your eyes, it was so intense you sobbed into his chest. he followed only some minutes after, gasping your name like a man drowning.

that should’ve been the end. but he kept going.

you didn’t mean to fuck again that night, and definitely not twice more the next morning, but Stanford couldn’t help himself. because he’d discovered oxygen and now couldn’t survive without the feel of you around him.

it didn’t take long before Ford’s libido eclipsed all else. poor genius, he’d always been obsessive. hyperfocused, easily fixated, nerd who could talk for hours about things like rifts in spacetime or secrets of the universe without even stopping to breathe. you should’ve known that once he got a taste of you, once he got to feel your thighs clench around him and your cunt flutter so tightly when he moaned your name, he’d treat you like one of his beloved discoveries.

but no one warns you about what happens when a man so smart gets addicted to your pussy.

wednesday is lab day so you lean over the table too much and fiddle with your pencil between your pretty lips. Ford sits across from you hard as a rock, biting his tongue while he tries to listen to Fiddleford talk about transistor configurations. but it’s hopeless. he keeps slipping off to the bathroom just to stroke himself thinking of you, spilling into his palm with a bitten-back moan, forehead pressed to the stall door. he doesn’t even make it back in time for the quiz.

but it’s not enough. it’s never enough.

it’s been two whole days since you last stayed the night in his dorm. two agonizing days of him jerking off under flickering dorm showers, biting his lip to keep quiet while the water beat down on his flushed skin. mondays make him unbearable. he won’t even look at you in class because he knows, if he does, he’ll spend the whole hour with his cock stiff under the desk at the sight of your lipgloss or the shape of your thighs under that skirt.

by 4pm he’s dragging you into the back of the library, shoving you up against the wall between reference books you’re never gonna read, panting against your cheek. “i missed you,” as his fingers fumble to shove your underwear aside. “i need it. i can’t concentrate.” your panties down to your thighs, his cock already pressed between your folds before you can catch your breath. your arms loop tight around his neck, mouthing soft kisses against his jaw as he slides inside.

you started carrying spare panties in your bag. stopped wearing bras under your blouses because he couldn’t keep his hands off you anyway. he’d bend you over his desk, shove a hand over your mouth, fuck you until you were blinking up at him all dazed and dripping. once he even took you right by the astronomy hall, gripping your hips while he fucked you so hard his glasses fogged up.

“you feel too good,” he’d whisper in between thrusts. “i swear, didn’t know it could feel like this—“

and the worst (best) part? he was good at it now. so good. all those fumbling, clumsy first thrusts turned into something downright ravenous.

Ford learned fast, like he always did. one time you were trying to study, nose deep in a textbook, sprawled on your tummy with your feet kicked up behind you, wearing a little sweater and nothing underneath but knee-high socks and. . . that was a mistake.

“Ford, baby, i have to finish this chapter, we got exam tomorrow“ but he was laying kisses on the backs of your thighs, pushing your panties aside and groaning when he saw the shine of you already waiting for him. “don’t worry,” he murmured, pulling his cock free. “i’ll help you concentrate.”

you tried. really tried to keep reading. you bit your lip and gripped the pages. but then he pushed inside and suddenly it was so hot for no reason in the middle of November. your eyes widened, hips tilted up of their own accord, and you whimpered over your textbook while his cock thrusted into your softest parts.

“just read,” Ford whispered, mouth against your ear, one hand pressing on your lower back to keep you tilted up. “be a good girl and study while i fill you up.”

you came like that, making such a mess on his cock, face in your book, ruined your exam notes. and he didn’t stop even after, just rutted slower, deeper, staying inside because “you’re so warm, so perfect, i wanna live here.”

and he meant it. because now, he fucked you every day. sometimes more than once. until your legs shook and your panties were just too damp to wear. while you studied, while he explained theories into your mouth.

you study in his dorm but Ford's too distracted by the way you sit with your legs open so. . . best solution is him fingering you under the table while you review notes, moaning under his breath every time your cunt clenches around his fingers. “this isn’t studying,” you try to protest, biting back a moan. “yes it is,” Ford replies, kissing the shell of your ear. “studying your anatomy, sweetheart. i think i deserve an A.” he makes you finish twice before you even look at the next chapter.

but no, calling it just fucking would be wrong. it was always tender, sensual even. messy hair, flushed cheeks, his voice breathless, telling you how beautiful you were as he pushed inside.

Stanford Filbrick Pines, the boy genius, gets so addicted. he goes from “i’m not sure i’m doing this right” to “i don’t think i can go twenty-four hours without being inside you.”

and it’s every day, every goddamn day. multiple times, if he can swing it. he wakes you up with soft little kisses, a gentle hand already palming at your chest under the blankets, and by the time your eyes flutter open he’s rutting against your hip like a dog in heat.

but thursdays. . . you don’t know what it is about thursday. the schedule? the way he only has one lecture in the morning? whatever it is, it makes him feral. yeah, thursdays are the worst for you, because that’s when he gets bold. when he puts you in his desk chair, throws your leg over the armrest, and kneels in front of you between essays, unbuttoning your blouse. “you’ve been working so hard, love, you deserve this. let me take care of you. please.” he groans, burying his face in your pussy, making you sob and shake and come again and again while your notes flew off the desk and your fingers knotted in his soft brown curls.

and that wasn’t even the beginning. thursdays meant getting bent over the counter before breakfast, groped in the hallway, shoved against the peeling wallpaper and kissed so hard your knees buckled.

by week seven, it’s a game of where. it doesn’t matter when anymore, because any time is fair game. he’s fucked you in the dorm stairwell, in the math department’s basement closet, in the cramped little photo booth at the student union during your lunch break, one leg on the little bench while he thrusted into you.

once, Ford got so riled up mid-lecture he leaned over and whispered, “your skirt’s too short. you’re not wearing anything under that, are you?” and when you didn’t answer fast enough, he stood up, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you into the hallway like a man possessed.

he bent you over a bench by the lockers and fucked you so fast and rough your vision went white at the edges. then he went right back to class with sweat at his temples and still aced the damn presentation. unbelievable

you learned not to wear skirts if you actually wanted to make it through the day without being groped. you learned to bring water and snacks because he’d fuck you until you were lightheaded.

by finals week, he was sliding your underwear off under the table in the library, whispering, “just sit on my lap, please, baby, i’ll be quiet, i swear. i just need to feel you around me.”

there’s no break and no off switch. not that you were complaining, but weekends were dangerous. he makes love to you for hours on sunday mornings, long, slow, thick strokes that have you drooling into the pillows, whispering praises into your mouth while he fucks you so gently it makes you cry from how soft it is. saturday afternoons he’d go down on you until your thighs shook, then hump against you like a boy losing his mind over his first crush.

Ford’s kisses made you weak. no, everything about him made you weak. his hands, his mouth, his voice when he whined in your ear that he couldn’t think straight without your cunt around him.

but every thursday, he shows up behind you, hard already, “you busy? no? good. because i need to be inside you. right now. or i’ll lose my mind.” now, every day's a new excuse to be inside you <𝟑

[fckmebarnes]

˗ˏˋ ★ use me, babygirl ★ ˎˊ˗

bucky barnes x f!reader

+18 MEN AND MINORS DNI — oral! (r), fingering(r) you’re sat on bucky’s face really, p in v…bucky being a softy…him flipping when you need it. i love him. i love him!!!

bucky was a dom. you knew it, and he made sure to show you every chance he got. but you also knew he was a woman pleaser, a sub when you needed it.

you were have an exceptionally hard time lately, not really thinking you looked good in anything you wore, not even in his clothes anymore. you picked at anything you could and was so hard on yourself to the point where you didn’t even want to look in the mirror.

bucky knew you had a hard time sometimes with your body image, but he didn’t know how bad it was when he found you in your shared bedroom, standing in front of the mirror with tears streaking your face.

“doll, what’s wrong?” you jumped, startled that bucky was behind you, not even hearing his footsteps walk in. you wrapped your arms around your middle, shaking your head not wanting to worry him.

“It, it’s nothing. honest.” bucky wrapped his arms around you, his hands finding their way under your shirt to feel your skin against his. the metal hand made you shiver from the cool contact. your head leaned back on his shoulder, feeling a kiss being placed against your neck.

“you’re beautiful, you know that?” you sighed, shaking your head just so he would be pleased. but he knew you better than that, and he wanted to show you how beautiful he thought you were. he took his hands away and brought you over to the bed, sitting you down and kneeling in front of you, head in between your knees.

“I mean it. you are so gorgeous and so powerful. I would let you beat me up anytime of the day.” you chuckled and blushed, holding his chin in your hand. you weren’t sure what it was, but seeing him kneeling in front of you ignited something in you.

“you mean it?” he nodded, closing his eyes as he kissed your hand that held his chin. he wrapped his hands around your thighs, squeezing lightly and then trailing his fingers up to the waistband of your undergarments, pulling them down to reveal you even more to him. you blushed as he kissed the inside of your thighs, giving small bites here and there.

“use me. use me until you come all over my face, over and over again.” you gasped softly as he inched closer to you, breath right above your folds as he gripped your thighs. you gently wrapped your fingers around his locks, pushing his head closer to you. you saw a smirk against his lips as he licked a stripe against you, causing you to make a breathy moan.

“I will do anything for you. tell me what you want me to do and I will do it. It’s only about you.” you blushed as he spoke, knowing he meant every single word. you hardly ever saw bucky being as sub as possible to you, and while you knew he was doing it so you could feel better about yourself, the outline in his sweatpants told you that he enjoyed it.

“take me to bed.” his eyes light up at the command, licking his lips as he scoops you up and rushes over to the bed with you, plopping you down. “on your back, daddy.” he grinned as you spoke, listening to your word as he got on his back— hard on pressing against his sweatpants

you go to straddle his chest, his arms sprawled out before they wrap around your waist loosely, letting you hover there

“i want to sit on your face, please?” you pouted as you looked down at him from your position, and you swore you head a grown leave his lips as he tugged you instantly to hover over his face — pussy dripping and wet just for him

you licked your lips as you lowered your cunt to his lips, his tongue automatically working itself between your folds and you moaned at the feeling. you grabbed onto the headboard, giving you better angle to arch your back and his fingers spread your ass.

“fingers, use them, sarge.” he let out a breathy moan at the nickname, bringing his two fingers to your core and pushing two metal digits into you. you rolled your hips against his face and rode his fingers, reveling in how good he was as he ate you out and fingered you.

“daddy… you’re doing so well..” subspace was mingling with your switch side, your head fuzzy as your hips ground against his face. the praise earned you a low groan against you, making a shiver run through your spine as you went to grip his hair with your fingers, pulling on it to make him as close as possible to you. be circled his tongue around your clit, stimulating your nerves and making you shudder, your legs tensing as he played with your clit and pumped two fingers in and out of you.

“taste so good, doll.” be mumbled against you, adding a third finger to you as he continued to feast, hoping that you were close. and thankfully you were, you felt that tightness in your lower stomach, clenching around his fingers as he worked his tongue all over you, humming against you.

you curled your toes as the pressure built up, feeling his suck and bite your clit, making you moan loudly.

“come on, baby. make a mess all over my face and fingers.” he shifted slightly, the feeling of his stubble rubbing on the inside of your thighs but it was pleasurable. he palmed himself with his other hand, getting off on pleasuring you. he loved seeing you come undone to just his mouth and fingers, loving how sensitive you were, and how easily he could make you come.

you threw your head back as your orgasm washed over you, as he curled his fingers in your hitting the same spot over and over again, sucking on your overstimulated clit. you held his hair so hard your knuckles were turning white as you closed your eyes. you heard him moan in between your legs as he took everything you gave him.

he pulled his fingers out and sat back, sucking on his three fingers not wanting to waste a drop. you opened your eyes and looked at him, a smile against his lips as he licked his lips to catch every last taste of you. he couldn’t get enough of you.

“you taste so sweet, just like honey.” you blushed as he kissed your thighs one more time before pulling back a little. he grinned as he some how flipped you onto your back, nudging his nose into your neck as his hard cock brushed on the inside of your thigh — slick with your saliva and his, mixed with your cum.

“don’t think i’m done with you yet.” he breathes softly against your ear, and you can help but fumble with his sweatpants in a desperate attempt to get them off him, suddenly needing to be full of him

“please…” you whine, opening your legs wider for him as he kicks off his sweats, cock springing free and hitting his lower abdomen. pre cum dribbles from the tip down his thick shaft, a vein throbbing.

“this what you want, baby?” you nod your head, licking your lips as he crawls over to you, the tip of his cock nudging your hole.

“ask nicely, doll..”

you melt into the mattress at the simple command. “please, daddy please… fuck me…”’ he smiles as he dips his head into your neck the same time he sinks into you, his hips rocking slowly into you as he breathes in your scent.

“I love you.” you say quietly, feeling a kiss against your skin.

“I love you more, sweetheart.” you knew with every word and action he did, you knew he was telling the absolute truth.

[xxtyongfs]

since 'm bored , kinks i think seventeen would have ? i like all of these so ask me which one to write a full fic on !

seungcheol - i fear he's so daddy kink coded .. he's the leader and sooo big and strong , ofc he likes being called daddy

more under cut ~

jeonghan - humiliation ... like he'd love teasing you when you get too flustered , and his favorite part is you whimpering under him and trying to deny the mean jokes he's making

joshua - praisee ! whether its giving or recieving , shua loves praise ! will whisper the sweetest words against your cunt while eating you out too ..

junhui - tbh ? bondage . i know he'd love tying you up in pretty knots , just to jerk off in front of you and get you real needy .

soonyoung - hear me out ! pet play ?? all i'm saying is that there's nothing wrong with indulging in hoshi's tiger fantasies ..!

wonwoo - cockwarming , especially when he's gaming . he'll hold your hips as he's playing a shooter game , pinching your thigh if you move too much .

jihoon - cosplay hello ? he'd love dressing you up as his faves and fucking you in the outfit , ji loves seeing you all dressed up and cute !

seokmin - face riding ! y'all know what they say about big noses , and dk's no exception . he loves the way you taste, and you just feel so good grinding your clit against his nose .

mingyu - manhandling .. ugh he's so big and strong , and you're perfect for him to fold and carry as he pleases !

minghao - sensory play , makes you wear a blindfold and will run ice against your tits . hao just likes seeing you squirm, and likes telling you to take deep breaths when it gets too much .

seungkwan - this was tricky , but probably food play ? he doesn't do it too often , but pouring chocolate syrup on your nipples and licking it off is a dream come true for him

vernon - i am #1 spit kink vernon truther by the way !! he likes getting so messy during sex , will spit in your mouth and slobber all over your tits <3

chan - pegging . chan likes being in control sometimes , but he really likes it when you take over with a strap and pound him so hard he's whining for you to go harder

[iqxatlantic]

Omg just read your most recent fic of kaiser and is it possible if I can request a fanfic where reader decides to let him, and after a few minutes of deep talk, kaiser just completely shatters, I mean, breaks down in sobs and tears in front of reader and reader lets kaiser cry in her lap into her shoulder like a little boy being comforted 😭

GRHHHAHHHH comforting kaiser after i put him thru hell yessss yesss anon you know exactly what i like mwehehehhe

" Because love can burn like a cigarette ! "

ft. michael kaiser . ooc! kaiser (?) . desperate! kaiser? . mmm kaiser being a crybaby . mmm i love kaiser . hurt/some comfort . idk if you wanna go back veo . gn! reader (implied afab) . angst ? . fluff ? . not proof read . kinda half-assed </3

crazy to think you told your friends you'd never let kaiser in again after the shit he's pulled during your situationship. sometimes lies/promises are meant to be empty — mayhaps, broken.

the desperate look in the emperor's eyes, no longer feigning confidence. everything was raw, real. "let me in, [name]. please- i beg. just one more time... last time i swear!" he pleads.

you reluctantly agree, feeling some sort of pity. you saw the imagery, the past that was constantly haunting kaiser within him at that moment.

the man was extremely ashamed of how vulnerable he was at that current moment. stepping into your room — he felt a sense of nostalgia.

you didn't want kaiser to feel abandonment. though you felt that immediately after he had left you. sitting on the corner of your bed, both of you two almost social distancing.

"um, how have you been kai- ahem. michael." you corrected yourself, not wanting him to feel even worse about himself. you knew how much he hated being called by his last name. especially by you.

"i've been doing shit without you." what a blunt ass reply hello. bro cut straight to the chase! a few minutes of trying to get philosophical, deep and sentimental? nah. the blonde was sobbing, face buried between your thighs.

you initially felt gross from the wet feeling seeping through your pants. god this guy held these tears since conception i swear.. but slowly, the more he cried, the more you realized — you never really moved on from him.

those failed attempts on hooking up with random dudes... they all somewhat resembled kaiser. personality wise or look wise. ooooh gawd y'all were literally made for each other. it was god's plan. meant to be, I tell you.

your thoughts were quickly interrupted by the sound of more crying. you looked down at him and his ratched ahh (it really wasnt ratched) hair. "michael, are you okay?" you asked, voice hinting concern.

he didn't reply. he just kept sobbing, and sobbing, and sobbing. kaiser knew how vulnerable and weak he looked right now. (MAYBE BECAUSE YOU ARE VULNERABLE AND WEAK WTF?) he felt like that dependent little boy in your arms.

however, something about being like who he was as a child in your arms brought him comfort. you just kept staring at him, dumbfounded by how much he could cry jeez. "michael, it's okay to not be okay. quit your prideful and arrogant self. i know it helped you survive but it's killing you now."

with a broken voice, kaiser wailed into your thighs, "i want you back [name]. i can't live without you. take me back, take me back, please!"

— ©iqxatlantic / isaisliterallyhim, 2025

a/n: recent fanfic no more... when i said kinda half assed i meant really half assefd lol... i'll cook a harder angst post i swear man... i swear i will... i swear on my life... why is moving on so hard, like damn. oh oh, and thank u sm for 400 followers my pretties  🥹 

[dina-winchester]

The Things We Don’t Say

Pairing: Teen!Dean x You

Warnings: slow-burn, emotional, soft heartbreak, no use of Y/N, teenage angst

A/N: In the early seasons, Dean wears a ring—and this is how I’ve always imagined the story behind it.

It started with detention.

Dean Winchester walked into your life like trouble wrapped in leather—smirking, cocky, a little too charming for someone who clearly didn’t care about homework or rules. You’d rolled your eyes the first time he leaned on your desk, spinning a pen between his fingers like he owned the place.

“You’re not from around here,” you said flatly, arms crossed.

He grinned. “What gave me away? My rugged charm or the fact I parked in the principal’s spot?”

He wasn’t just passing through, though. He stayed. Enrolled at the school. Started showing up in classes like he hadn’t just wandered in off the road. He’d mutter something vague about his dad getting work nearby, but you never pressed.

Over the next few weeks, you saw more of him. In the hallways. At the diner after school. Sometimes leaning against that black car in the parking lot like he was waiting for someone—but his eyes always found you.

You didn’t mean to fall into step with him. It just… happened.

You started talking between classes. Then after school. Then in the middle of the night, when he’d sneak up to your window and tap on the glass like something out of a movie.

By fall, he was driving you to school. By October, he was kissing you behind the bleachers. And by the time winter hit, everyone knew you were his. He didn’t need to say it. It was in the way he stood a little closer, the way his eyes tracked you from across the room like he couldn’t help it.

You’d never said I love you. Neither had he. But it was there, thick in the air between you. In the way he held your hand. In the way he pressed kisses to your temple when no one was looking. In the way you curled up in the front seat of the Impala, tucked under his arm, and felt safe.

In the way he watched you when he thought you weren’t looking. In the way he kissed your forehead before letting you go for the night. In the way he smiled, quiet and real, when you laughed too hard at something stupid.

He never said what his family did. Never said where he came from, or why he always seemed to carry so much weight in those green eyes. You didn’t ask.

He stayed. That was enough.

You spent spring wrapped in his flannel shirts, riding in his dad’s Impala with the windows down and the music too loud. He’d reach for your hand without thinking. He’d kiss you like it meant something.

But he never said it.

Then summer came. And with it, the ending.

You had him—really had him—for nearly a year.

A full year of late-night drives and flannel jackets, of shared secrets and stolen time.

He told you on a Tuesday, in the middle of an empty field behind your school. The same place he kissed you for the first time.

“Dad got a job,” he said, voice low, hands stuffed in the pockets of his worn jeans.

Your stomach dropped.

“Where?”

He shrugged, not looking at you. “Couple states over. He wants to leave by the weekend.”

Silence fell between you. Heavy. Familiar. Like this was always coming.

You swallowed. “How long?”

He looked at you then. Really looked at you. “I don’t know. Could be years.”

It shouldn’t have surprised you. But it still hurt like hell.

You stepped closer, heart already breaking. “So that’s it?”

He reached for your hand, laced his fingers through yours. “I don’t want it to be.”

You didn’t say anything. Just squeezed his hand and nodded once.

The next day, you sat with him behind the gym before school, his arms around you, your head resting on his shoulder. The air smelled like summer heat and cut grass. You held something small in your palm—a silver ring, worn but strong. You’d had it for years, tucked away in a drawer. Waiting for the right moment. The right person.

Dean looked at it, brows pulling together. “What’s this?”

You didn’t explain. Just reached for his hand—your fingers brushing his knuckles like you were afraid he’d disappear if you let go—and slid the ring onto his right ring finger. It fit like it had always belonged there.

“There,” you whispered, eyes shining. “Now I’ll be with you. Wherever you go.”

His throat worked as he stared down at his hand. “You sure?”

You nodded.

But the moment stretched too long. And the silence between you filled with everything that wouldn’t fit into words. Your chest ached, tightening like it couldn’t hold another breath.

“I’m not gonna say goodbye,” you murmured, voice barely holding together. “I can’t.”

He looked up at you—and the look in his eyes just undid you. He stepped closer, close enough to feel the heat between your bodies, the panic barely hidden under your skin.

“Then we won’t,” he said quietly, firmly. “Screw goodbyes.”

You blinked up at him as your throat tightened.

“This is just ‘I’ll see you later,’ alright?” he added, resting his forehead gently against yours. “You and me? We’re not done. Not even close.”

You tried to be strong. You really did. But the moment cracked you open, tears slipping down your cheeks before you could stop them.

“God, I was fine yesterday,” you laughed through the tears, wiping at your face with the sleeve of your jacket. “Now I can’t even keep my eyes dry for five minutes.”

Dean’s hands were on your cheeks in a second, thumbs brushing gently under your eyes.

“You don’t have to be fine, sweetheart,” he said softly, his voice breaking in ways he’d never let anyone else hear. “Not with me.”

You shook your head. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I know.” His forehead pressed against yours. “I don’t want to either.”

You reached up, curled your fingers around the collar of his shirt like that might somehow keep him here. Keep time from moving.

And then, because you had to say it at least once before he drove away—

“I love you, Dean.”

He exhaled like the words knocked the air out of him.

His arms wrapped around you, tight, grounding, like he could hold the pieces of you together. You buried your face into his neck, breathing him in, trying to memorize every second, every heartbeat.

And when he kissed you goodbye, it was slow and quiet and full of desperation. Like a promise he couldn’t say out loud. Like maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t the end.

He wears the ring for years.

Even when it gets scratched.

Even when the silver dulls.

Because that ring? That moment?

It was the first time someone told Dean Winchester he was loved.

And meant it.

A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it! Feedback is very much appreciated. 🥰

Read part two here

[al-1-na]

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 (req.)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Drew Starkey x gf!Reader

𝐂𝐖: angst to fluff, no sexual content

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: When Drew begins pulling away, you’re left questioning everything—especially when rumors swirl about him and a co-star. But one emotional night brings the truth to light, and with it, a chance to heal together.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭; 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭; 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It started with unread texts.

At first, you didn’t think anything of it. People get busy. People get distracted. Especially when they’re actors on the brink of something big. You’d text him in the mornings—simple things like “Hope you slept okay” or “Wanna grab dinner after set?”—and by the time the sun went down, maybe he’d shoot back a tired thumbs-up emoji. Sometimes not even that.

It stung, but you brushed it off.

The thing about love is that it makes you good at making excuses. Too good.

You and Drew had been dating for a little over a year. It wasn’t always like this—God, no. He used to call you on the way home from set, just to hear your voice. You used to fall asleep on FaceTime when you were in different cities. He used to make you laugh so hard your stomach hurt.

But now, the silence between texts stretched longer, like slow, heavy breathing. He started replying in fragments. “Busy.” “Can’t tonight.” “Rain check?”

And you kept telling yourself it was fine. That he was tired. That he was just overwhelmed. That he loved you—he just didn’t have the energy to show it all the time.

But then the date nights stopped.

You had this little tradition—every Thursday night was yours. No matter how chaotic the week was, Thursday meant takeout and wine and the two of you cuddled under a throw blanket watching the worst movies you could find. And that was your anchor. That was your constant.

Until suddenly, it wasn’t.

The first Thursday he bailed, he said something had come up on set. The second, he said he was sick. The third, he didn’t say anything at all. Just didn’t show.

You waited until 11:47 p.m. before finally blowing out the candle you’d lit for ambiance and packing away the pad thai that had gone cold. You didn’t even bother texting him. What was the point?

What made it worse—what twisted the knife—was opening Instagram.

There he was. Smiling in the sunlight next to Odessa. The caption wasn’t anything special—just a “grateful for days like this ☀️” kind of thing—but the comments were wild.

“omg are they dating??”

“i KNEW there was something between them”

“sorry to this girl but drew and odessa >>>>”

Your hands went cold as you scrolled, the blood rushing in your ears.

You didn’t want to be that girl. You didn’t want to spiral. But how were you supposed to feel when the man you loved hadn’t touched you in days and yet looked so warm and alive in someone else’s frame?

You turned your phone off and buried it under your pillow.

It got harder to talk to him.

Every time you tried—every time you even so much as hinted at how distant he felt—he’d change the subject or wave it off.

“I’m just tired,” he said one night, brushing a kiss against your hair. “Don’t make this into something it’s not.”

But it already was something. You were starting to feel like a ghost in your own relationship—like some vague obligation he kept around out of habit.

And you hated yourself for not knowing how to fix it.

It all came to a head on a Friday night.

You’d made a stupid little plan—nothing fancy, just a movie you knew he liked, popcorn, candles. A cozy night. One last try. You didn’t text him about it, didn’t announce it, just hoped he’d walk in and feel the care behind it and remember you. Really remember you.

But he came home, dropped his keys on the counter, barely looked at you.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m going out. Probably late.”

You blinked from the couch, remote still in hand. “You just got home.”

“Yeah. I know.”

You stood slowly. “Drew…”

He didn’t meet your eyes.

“Where are you going?”

“Out with a few friends. I need a night to breathe.”

And that was it. That was the moment something inside you cracked—quiet and clean, like the shatter of fine china.

You didn’t yell. You didn’t scream. You just… felt it all hit you at once.

“Do you even want to be with me anymore?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He froze. “What?”

“I’m not trying to pick a fight, I’m just—” You paused, swallowing the ache in your throat. “I need to know. Because I feel like I’ve been holding on by my fingertips, and every day, you pull a little further away.”

His brows furrowed. “It’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?” You laughed bitterly. “You barely talk to me. You leave me on read. You cancel every plan we make. And then I see you with her and it’s like…” Your voice wobbled. “It’s like you’re happier with her.”

Drew stared at you like you’d slapped him. “Wait. Are you talking about Odessa?”

“You’re all over her page, Drew. And the comments…” You shook your head. “They think you’re together. And honestly, sometimes I wonder if they’re right.”

He stepped forward, his expression stricken. “Hey, hey—no. No. That’s not what this is.”

Tears burned your eyes, but you didn’t look away.

“Then what is this?” you asked. “Because I feel like I’m begging for scraps of your attention. And I hate that I’ve gotten so used to being invisible to you.”

You didn’t realize you were crying until he reached out and cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing under your eye.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, voice cracking. “God, I didn’t know it had gotten this bad.”

You sniffled. “How could you not?”

He closed his eyes like he couldn’t bear the weight of your words.

“I thought I was protecting you,” he whispered.

You stared. “From what?”

“From this,” he said, gesturing between you. “From me. I’ve been in this weird headspace… overworked, burnt out, insecure, all of it. I started feeling like I was dragging you into my mess. Like I wasn’t good enough for you anymore.”

You shook your head, tears falling freely now. “So instead of talking to me, you just shut me out?”

“I didn’t know how to talk about it,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“You already did,” you said, the words stinging even as they left your mouth. “But I would’ve understood if you’d just told me.”

His face crumpled as he pulled you into his arms, holding you like he hadn’t in weeks—tightly, desperately, like he finally realized you might slip through his fingers.

“I’ve been such an idiot,” he murmured into your hair. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’ve treated you like an afterthought.”

You buried your face in his chest, your hands clutching at his shirt. “I missed you so much, Drew.”

“I missed you too,” he breathed. “I never stopped loving you. I just… forgot how to show it.”

You stayed like that for a long time, wrapped in each other, the silence between you soft for the first time in what felt like forever.

When you finally pulled back, your voice was quieter. “You need to mean it. If we do this again… I need you to fight for me. Not leave me guessing.”

He nodded, eyes shining. “I will. I swear to you. No more half-versions of me. You deserve everything.”

You let out a shaky laugh, brushing your thumb across his jaw. “You’ve got a lot to make up for.”

“I know,” he said. “And I’ll spend every day doing it.”

That night, he didn’t go out. He turned off his phone, ordered your favorite takeout, and curled up on the couch beside you like the man you fell in love with.

You held hands under the blanket as the movie played, and somewhere between scenes, he kissed your forehead and whispered, “I’m home now.”

And just like that, you felt him choosing you all over again.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @soft-starr @k4yr14 @43hughes @cokewithcameron @psychocitylights

AN: whoever requested this you are a blessing!!! i loved every second of writing this:3

[mxrcurysb1tch]

Astrology observations pt. VIII 🌚

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ Here i am back from the dead hi!! As always, take what resonates and leave the rest! (Small Tw for mention of EDs )

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ I feel like I don’t do rising sign observations so much bc I don’t know anyone’s birth time (grrr) but I do know a few Virgo risings and they all have this extremely elegant put together vibe about them, seriously even their mess looks purposeful and neat. They also all look like models, they’re slender and usually on the taller side. Ie Bella Hadid.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ Sagittarius Mars kind of scare me because these mfs can literally do anything without having to practice or train too hard. They could literally wake up tomorrow and run a marathon just for the hell of it just because they can without training. They have such an intense belief in their own physical capabilities that it all kind of works out for them. Depending on their other placements, they’re also usually good at a lot of different things and rarely doubt their capabilities.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ Capricorn in the 6h (Leo rising) You guys have iron health. You literally never get sick. Likely to be healthy right into old age and have good genetics or just get better health with age which seems counterintuitive. You’re also likely to take your health very seriously. An example is my mum, she looks 10 years younger than her age because she has never drank or had any major health issues.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ Pisces Mars keep getting hurt by those closest to them and are just too forgiving. It makes my heart sad truly. They might always blame themselves for conflicts too. With love, you guys need to learn to stand up for yourselves and don’t let people treat you like sh!t.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ I’ve noticed that people with Taurus & Scorpio intercepted tend to have issues with food and eating. People with this configuration often forget to eat or just don’t get that much pleasure out of it. I’m not really sure the reason (I suppose Taurus has to do with sensual pleasures and Scorpio is sometimes about restriction?) but they just aren’t all that bothered with food and they’re usually quite underweight for this reason. I wouldn’t say it’s necessarily always a full blown ED but I definitely think it’s something to watch out for. I also imagine, as with all interceptions, it could go to the other extreme and they could binge eat especially if they have personal placements in Taurus that are intercepted.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ The 8th house (talking about it again sorry not sorry. it’s fascinating) is not just about money and death. It’s about anything you inherit from your family line, although it is usually a burden or comes at a heavy price. Think generational curses, ancient trauma that you carry with you that was not even yours in the first place. It could be money you inherit from your family but that will usually come at some kind of cost. For example, you could be from a very wealthy family and be left a lot but maybe they were never warm, loving or accepting of you. That’s the price you pay for the money you did not earn. The 8h is never about choice. You don’t get a say in the matter. The wounds were there before you were even conceived and you have no other option but to bear their burden. It seems unfair, but what it does give you is extraordinary power if you know how to work with it and invest. Investment is the key with this house, whether it be money or transmuting pain into something great.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ mercury opposite mercury in synastry is exhausting imo. Everyone says it’s square you should watch out for but nah. You guys just don’t understand each other, and it comes off as a really judgemental vibe. For instance, As a Leo Mercury every time I meet an Aquarius Mercury I feel super on edge because I feel judged for being “too dramatic”. At the same time, I am constantly questioning how they can be so cool, calm and collected at all times… it’s okay to freak out over minor issues from time to time, it’s fun!

[semperama]

hi erin you should tell us all about what you think happened after ryan followed oliver through the doors of the hotel and they went upstairs together 👀

"Get in here," Oliver says, fingers hooked in Ryan's collar.

"Why are you so bossy?" Ryan stumbles after him, through the door, and he honestly doesn't know which room this is, his or Oliver's, but who cares, who even cares.

"Why are you so infuriating?" Oliver says. Ryan loves how he says it, his accent dancing staccato over each syllable, the 'ing' transformed into a crisp 'en'. He kicks the door shut hard, and they probably just woke up half the hall, but all Ryan can do is giggle.

"How come you can even say infuri--infur--?" He laughs harder, falling against Oliver and pushing his face into his shoulder. He could have sworn they were matching each other drink for drink, but when Oliver starts shaking with laughter, it feels more like he's laughing at him than with him. "Shut up, bro."

"Don't call me 'bro' right now," Oliver says, pushing him backward and stripping his jacket down his arms at the same time. "These fucking suspenders."

"Yeah?" Ryan asks, suddenly breathless. Even more breathless when Oliver grabs the suspenders and uses them to swing him against the wall next to the door, his back hitting it hard enough to make his teeth clack together. Still, he recovers enough to add, grinning, "You want me to call you 'babygirl' instead?"

"Don't you dare," Oliver says, and then proceeds to shove his tongue into Ryan's mouth so he can't.

They do this sometimes. Usually when they've been drinking, but not always. There are no rules. It's a certain glint in Oliver's eye or a tug in Ryan's gut, the way the air crackles between them. They do it, but they don't talk about it, and it's back to normal in the morning.

"Did you do this on purpose?" Oliver asks, mouth against his jaw as he tugs on the suspenders again and then lets them snap against Ryan's chest. Ryan hisses, digs his fingers into Oliver's waist.

"Not everything is about you, babygirl," he says. Only after the words are out does he hear the echo of Eddie in his head, You'd make it all about you, again. He wonders how Buck would like being called 'babygirl'. He thinks Buck would like it.

"I hate you so much," Oliver says, but his mouth is curved into a grin against the skin of Ryan's neck. He kisses down to the base of Ryan's throat and flattens his tongue there, and Ryan rolls his hips forward, and they both groan.

"Bed," Ryan says. "Come on, bed."

He tries to push Oliver backward, but he doesn't budge, his bulk pinning Ryan to the wall. "Nuh-uh," Oliver says. "Not letting you get undressed." He runs his fingers down the suspenders, and then hooks them in the waistband of Ryan's pants. "Just get your dick out."

"Fuck," Ryan breathes as Oliver drops to his knees. His hands go to Oliver's head automatically, raking against the crunch of gel out of his curls, but Oliver grabs him by the wrists and pushes him away.

"What did I just say?" he says.

Between the alcohol and the arousal, Ryan feels like he's moving through jello as he fumbles with his fly. It's not easy, fishing himself through the slit in his briefs when he's most of the way to drunk and still so fucking hard. How long has he been hard? It feels like most of the night, but that can't be right. Someone would have noticed.

"Yeah," Oliver says, like he can't help himself, when Ryan finally frees his cock, strokes it twice. Oliver leans in, tongue out, and Ryan curses under his breath as he feeds himself right into Oliver's mouth.

It's amazing how it always feels like the first fucking time. Ryan still gets the same little illicit thrill down his spine, the same swoop in his gut. It feels insane that Oliver would even want him, but there he is, kneeling in front of him, tugging Ryan's suspenders again to pull him deeper into his mouth.

Ryan's hands go back to Oliver's hair, crunching it in his grip this time to get the product out of it, get to the soft curls underneath. He pulls a little, and Oliver pulls the suspenders in return, and somehow they get into a rhythm, Ryan fucking shallowly into Oliver's mouth, Oliver urging him on, groaning around him. He keeps trying to pull Ryan into his throat, but Ryan can see the drool leaking from the corners of his mouth, and this suit doesn't belong to him. Neither of them are strangers to being careful with a costume; it's second nature. This isn't a costume, technically, but it feels like one. It feels like Ryan has been wearing one all night, but it's stripped away a little more each time Oliver swallows around him.

Sweat sticks the shirt to Ryan's back, and he keeps reaching up to brush his hair out of his face. With alcohol sloshing through his veins, everything feels sloppy and syrupy and warm. He reaches down and presses his thumb to the corner of Oliver's plush mouth, and Oliver hums, and Ryan realizes, suddenly, how close he is. His grip slackens in Oliver's hair, and he lets Oliver take over entirely, yanking him forward again, again, every now and again letting the suspenders snap against his stomach with a sharp, satisfying pop.

"Please," he hears himself say, distantly, and then Oliver pulls him deeper, face pressed to the front of Ryan's pants after all, and Ryan's orgasm kicks him in the gut. He shoots into Oliver's mouth, feels him swallow, looks down and meets his eyes and gasps against the way his heart tries to jump into his throat.

"Come here, come here," he says while he's still coming down from it, but Oliver is one step ahead of him, getting to his feet and tugging Ryan's shirttails out of his pants, fumbling with the buttons. Somehow Oliver manages to get Ryan's shirt open beneath the suspenders while Ryan jerks Oliver's fly open, and then their hands meet on Oliver's cock, wrapping around it together, stripping it hard and fast.

"Mmm, gonna mess up your slutty waist," Oliver says, and Ryan feels the blood rush to his face as he leans in to kiss the shit-eating grin off Oliver's lips.

It takes no time at all before Oliver is spilling warm over Ryan's skin, collapsing forward so he's grinding out the last of his release, their hands trapped together between their bodies. The suit is going to be unsalvageable after all, but Ryan doesn't fucking care. He buries his nose behind Oliver's ear and breathes him in, feels the flutter of his pulse. If they move, his knees might give out, so he's happy to stay here while Oliver's come drips down his abs.

"Shower?" Oliver asks after a minute, but he doesn't move except to press a kiss to Ryan's collarbone.

Ryan peels his eyes open and looks around. "Are we in my room or yours?"

Oliver chuckles, pulls back enough to look at him. "Mine," he says. "Come on. You can borrow some of my clothes after."

The thought of it makes Ryan blush--which seems silly, given what they just did. Oliver notices, reaches up to chase the heat of it with his thumb. They have shit to do tomorrow, and it's going to be hard enough with a hangover and too little sleep. But for this moment, Ryan doesn't care. He lets Oliver take his hand and tug him toward the bathroom. He can't stop smiling.