#when u and ur bf both work long days but u always make time to see each other off

[remi-thirsts]

❝ 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀 ❞

pairing: r. suna x fem!reader summary: Headcanons abt ur man who loves to record his fav girl ! content: very suggestive, established relationship, (p -> v), oral (f + m receiving), fingering, pet names (baby), cursing, filming (consensual for both parties), teasing (when is suna not teasing?), lmk if I missed anything. (kind of a soft smut release since i'm not confident)

✧ bf!suna who whips out his phone anytime you wear anything that's tight around your curves.

"Okay Rin, I'm coming out tell me what you think of this dress." He lets out an uninterested hum, because you've been in the store for at least two hours. You need a new dress for your cousin's birthday party.

When you walk out and give him a little twirl he immediately exits whatever game he was playing to pass the time and opens the camera app.

"Holy shit, look at that ass baby. Mmm and those pretty tits."

"Can you focus for like one second?

✧ bf!suna who sends you horny videos throughout the day, because he misses you.

dookie butt 😝💖 [1 video attachment] look what u do to me

you -boyyyy i'm at work rn -but holy fuck... you moan so loud that i had to turn my volume down and i think i got looks from people

dookie butt 😝💖 so.... no titties ?

you ding ding ding ! you win blue balls

dookie butt 😝💖 at least send me some ass 😒

✧ bf!suna has a whole ALBUM on his phone of videos of you two fucking.

✧ bf!suna loves watching that one video where it's so shaky and you can barely tell what's going on, but he knows. He was eating you out so good, he had you back arching off of the bed, and your toes curling. You couldn't even hold the phone properly like he asked you too. Being the meanie he is he continued to harshly suck on your clit and hit your g-spot with his, long, experienced, rough fingers even after you came. You ended up squirting all over his face..

✧ bf!suna LOVES to record his dick bulging in your belly. That's how he knows he's hitting it good.

✧ bf!suna comes up with all these ridiculous scenarios/roleplays that you always seem to agree to do with him. He records ALL of them.

✧ bf!suna saves every single nude you send him, because despite what you say he thinks you're beautiful all day everyday.

✧ bf!suna sends you Twitter links asking if you wanna recreate them. Anytime he watches them he can only think about you and himself.

✧ bf!suna has no shame and will watch your homemade videos even with his friends around.

"Damn, Rin whatever yer watching must be really interestin'!" Atsumu spits sarcasm at the EJP middle blocker.

"Way more interesting than you by a long shot." Suna calmly replies which pisses his friend off even more. The blond snatches Suna's phone. Only to hand it back seconds later with a flushed face, "Gosh yer a pervert, Sunarin, a pervert."

✧ bf!suna is like a photographer when you get a new lingerie set. He'll ask you to make different poses and stand at different angles so he can get "the best possible picture"

✧ bf!suna sends you audios of him moaning because he knows you love it.

dookie butt 😝💖 [1 audio attachment] :3

you RIN. I'M MELTING WTF U SOUND SO HOT

dookie butt 😝💖 u should send something back to show ur appreciation

you 🫡

✧ bf!suna never posts or shares your videos unless you ask him too, and the ones he does share with the internet are the ones where no one can see your faces.

✧ bf!suna all in all loves you and your beauty. Every single video he's recorded is proof of that. When you watch them, you notice the little things, like how he'll prop up a pillow for you, or how he'll quietly ask if it's okay for him to keep going and whatnot. Many would think that he's just horny all the time and doesn't care about you, but he does care. Way more than haters will realize.

©𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈-𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐒 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

[blueberrybeomgyu]

୨⎯ "attention" ⎯୧ (kdh)

+*:🌟:*﹤descrip. : leehan just wants ur eyes on him!! :(

+*:🩷:*﹤content : sub!leehan, dom!reader, edging, riding (who's surprised), surely this is exhibitionism and voyeurism???

+*:🧃:*﹤warnings : 18+ mdni! :T (i'm watching you 🫵), female anat 4 reader, piv sex, both characters are quite flawed imo but everything is consensual 🫶, leehan confesses to reader like ten times but it's mostly in his head, leehan’s kinda weird in the mall sorry idk how men flirt idk how anyone flirts, leehan has a scent kink in my book idk how that happened but it did

+*:❤️:*﹤word count : 4.7k phew it's a long one buckle up

+*:🍏:*﹤a/n : i tried my best to write the first paragraph as plot but it was so hard so I wrote it in drabble format but the rest is in story format!! sawry bout that </3 selfedging!leehan anon if you read this i hope u like it <33

+*:🌟:*﹤masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *

BF!Leehan who wants your eyes on him, but you've been so focused on work, leaving early and coming home late. He knows it's important, that you have to finish your project by the deadline, but he can't help but feel a little selfish about your time when you've rarely spoken to him in the past two weeks. He's barely even seen you, always falling asleep despite trying to stay up when you come home, and he's getting antsy missing your company.

You're sliding out of bed after only being home for five hours. He’d startled awake when you came in, but you were too tired to talk, too tired to change before collapsing on the bed.

He’d changed you himself, gently wiping your makeup off and massaging lotion into your skin, then held you close to him as you caught up on much-needed rest. He wakes up when he feels your body heat leave his side, and groans as he watches with foggy eyes as you disappear into the bathroom. 

“Don’t go to work. Stay here with me,” he begs sweetly when you come back out. You consider it, he can see it on your face, but you ultimately shake your head.

“I can’t, baby. Gotta get this project done, then I’ll be all yours, m’kay?”  He pouts, but it doesn’t last long because you kiss it away and ruffle his already messed up hair. Within minutes, you’re out the door.

Leehan sulks in bed for a little longer, wishing he could make you pay attention to him. It feels like the only time you’re actually looking at him, thinking about him, is when the two of you are intimate with each other. It’s hard to find time in two busy schedules, but during those rare moments, it’s just you and him; the world around the two of you doesn’t exist anymore.

He’s so warm and safe in bed and the only thing that would make it better is if you were here with him, tangled up in the sheets and wasting the day away. He thinks about your soft skin and how sweet it smells, how warm your touch is when he’s lucky enough to be blessed with it, blessed by your gentle eyes and kind words when they’re focused only on him and spoken just for him to hear.

His hand is traveling under his waistband without hesitation, and thoughts of you clutter his mind as he wraps his palm around his length. He tries to mimic the way you squeeze his base and flick your thumb over his slit, tries to imagine it’s your pretty hands touching him this way. It's not long before stars are dancing behind his eyelids and he’s grunting out into the silent room. 

You never want him to cum the first time around, and almost always pull away when he’s on the edge. He’s so used to the denial, to the feeling of his orgasm slipping out of his grasp that it just feels natural when he pulls his hand away from his cock. He sucks in a breath at the way it twitches and sees you, hears you in his imagination, saying, “Good boy, aren’t you so well-trained?”

He chews on the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the burning hot need coursing through his veins, and an idea forms in his head. He knows he shouldn’t, but it should be fine, right? Just a voice message showing you how much he misses you. You wouldn’t get upset with him for that, surely.

He reaches for his phone on the nightstand and opens you guys’ text messages. He spends another four seconds convincing himself this is a good idea. Then he’s grabbing his cock again, pulling all the tricks to put him on the verge of tipping over. When he feels close, he presses the “Record a Message” button beside the text bar.

At first, it’s just shy little moans as he complains about how much he misses you, how much better it would feel if you were here. Then, they turn into desperate, raspy gasps as he pushes himself over the edge. The audio recording sends the second he releases the button, and he can’t unsend it, so he accepts his choices and waits to hear what you have to say.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The answer is absolutely nothing. You don’t respond to or address the audio recording at all, aside from a smirk and a “Did you have fun today?” that you throw his way when you walk through the front door. 

He continues doing it, messages ranging from more audio recordings to photos of his stomach painted white, and usually you’ll kiss him, ruffle up his hand, call his “little treats” cute, make more promises to help him out when you’ve met your deadline.

He knows your work is important, but although guilt claws at him for it, Leehan still feels a bit hurt that you didn’t take his complaints to heart, just assumed it was another one of his trivial games. 

Leehan can play games, and when you hole yourself up in the bedroom to type away at your laptop, he realizes that he will. He’ll do whatever it takes to get your attention.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You finally have a day off, and have decided you’d like to spend part of it at the mall looking through new arrivals. Leehan’s not big on shopping, so he just follows you around and occasionally gets distracted by fish merch. 

You’ve stepped away at least four times to take phone calls from your coworkers, and you guys have only been at the mall for an hour and a half. When lunchtime rolls around, you excuse yourself again to answer a call from your boss, leaving Leehan alone to pick at his food in disinterest. 

“Um, hi. Are you busy?” A feminine voice says. The girl has to stand directly in Leehan’s line of sight for him to realize she’s talking to him. When he looks up at her, she smiles shyly and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Can I help you?” 

“No! Well, yes. I…was just wondering if I could have your phone number. I saw you standing alone earlier…” The girl’s voice fades out as Leehan peeps your approaching figure in the distance, and the gears in his head turn with another (probably bad) idea.

“...alone again here in the food court, so I thought I should take the chance.”

Leehan didn’t hear most of what she said, but he can tell when someone’s interested in him, and he can play along.

He flashes the girl a charming smile, dimples and all, and nods along to whatever she’s rambling about. She’s cute enough, and seems like a nice girl, but Leehan’s real focus is entirely on you as you watch the scene. He watches you as best as he can from his peripheral, but never takes his eyes off the girl in front of him. 

“Is that…alright?” She says, looking at Leehan with wide, hopeful eyes. He pretends to consider whatever she asked, and holds a palm out for her to rest her hand in. Her face gets even redder, and he kind of feels bad that he’s using her to get to you.

He’s about to tell her that he’s sorry to disappoint, and that he appreciates it, he really does, but he has a girlfriend. He doesn’t get a chance to say any of that when you come up behind him seemingly out of nowhere and tap him on the shoulder. The girl pulls her hand away from Leehan’s and stands around awkwardly.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You ask. Your arms are crossed and your eyes are locked on his, but not with the love and admiration he’s been longing for. His composure falters when he sees your expression, one that says he’s fucked up more than he knows.

“This girl came up to me and…” He trails off and gestures in the girl’s general direction.

“And?” You ask impatiently, but Leehan doesn’t know how he was going to conclude that sentence. This girl came up to me and I pretended to be interested to get a rise out of you? He has a feeling that’s not going to support his case well. You turn away from him and to the girl behind him, causing him to turn around as well.

“You’ll have to excuse my idiot boyfriend. I’m sorry he wasted your time instead of just telling you he was taken.” The girl nods in understanding and tries to hide her disappointed pout. She accepts your handshake when you offer it and hurries off. 

You shoot Leehan another pissed glare, then dump your remaining food in the trash and walk out of the mall. He considers apologizing to the girl as well, but she’s already out of sight, so he trashes his own food and trails after you with a ball of shame sitting in his throat. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

To be honest, you scare Leehan just a little, especially when he knows you’re angry with him but you’re not talking about it. He’d rather you just chew his head off and get it over with, just tell him how much of an inconsiderate dumbass he is. You don’t, so the guilt manifests and manifests until he feels like he might puke it up.

You lock the front door and hang up your coat, and the first thing you say to him in the last twenty minutes is “Sit.”

Leehan parks his ass on the couch immediately, and waits to hear whatever other command you might give him. He expects you to sit next to him, or on the armchair by the couch or even on his lap. He doesn’t expect you to sit right across from him on the coffee table. At least a minute passes full of you just staring at him, and the silence is killing him. 

“Baby–”

“Shut up,” you say, and his mouth clamps shut. You stare at him for a few more seconds, poking your inner cheek with your tongue in thought. Then, you shake your head and laugh in disbelief. Leehan watches as you cross your arms over your chest, and tries not to flick his eyes down to the way your boobs are being pushed up. He may be sick with horniness and loneliness, but it’s really not the time.

“Why are you acting like this, Leehan?” It takes Leehan a few seconds and a quirk of your eyebrow to realize you’re actually waiting for an answer, that you want him to speak now.

“What do you mean?” That’s his intelligent response. You scoff and roll your eyes.

“Don’t act dense with me. You were flirting with that girl just so I’d see. I know when you’re acting out for attention, and that’s exactly what you’ve been doing this entire week.” Leehan’s embarrassed at being caught so he shakes his head in denial, but it’s nowhere near convincing even to himself.

“No? You didn’t touch yourself and record it for me? Didn’t send me photos of you covered in your own cum? Didn’t flirt with a girl right in my face in a desperate attempt to get my attention?” Leehan’s cheeks burn at the direct confrontation. Hearing his actions out loud brings a fresh wave of shame over him, and he’s so ready to get down on his knees and beg for forgiveness.

“Show me.”

Leehan’s eyes fly wide open and he lets out a nervous chuckle. “W-what?”

“You wanted my attention so bad. Now you have it,” you say with a bored expression. Your eyes leave a trail of fire wherever they land on his skin. He has your attention, and has to think of a way to keep it. 

“Go ahead,” you command with a jerk of your head. Your lips are turned down into a frown, and it’s so condescending, like you don’t even want to be here. Leehan needs you to want to be here, and he’s nothing if not a performer. He lifts his hips and tugs his pants down to his thighs. 

You make a noise, something between a hum and a coo, when he pulls his boxers down and his dick springs against his stomach.

“Your little cock is hard, Hannie.” He knows he’s not small, but your words are still humiliating, and still burn the need to impress you across his skin. “Gonna show me how you fucked yourself when you were moaning into your phone?”

Leehan’s hips buck against nothing, causing his member to slap against his stomach again, and his mouth falls open with a groan.

He does as you tell him, wrapping his hand around his cock like he’s been doing every morning for the past week, squeezing his base, flicking his tip, imagining it’s you, wishing it was you, but he doesn’t dare ask. Instead he watches your facial expressions, how your lips curl up into a smirk when he’s close.

“Stop,” you tell him, and he pulls his hand away without question. He would’ve been foolish to not expect the sensation of his orgasm floating farther and farther away from him. He tries to slow his breathing, tries not to lose his mind so early into this session.

“Keep going.” 

He continues his previous pace immediately, and his hips tremble when he tries to stop them from bucking up. His tip is a bit more sensitive when he brushes his thumb across it, and it takes less time for him to get close. 

He strokes a bit faster, moans a bit louder. He has no idea how long you plan to keep him here, but he still anticipates the relief of falling off the edge.

“Let go.”

Leehan pulls his hand away from his cock and clutches the couch instead while willing his legs to stop shaking. He’s helpless to disobey you, but he groans as his orgasm escapes him a second time.

“Hm…I dunno. Something’s not right.” You tap a manicured nail against your chin in thought. He can never understand how you’re so composed in moments like this, like it’s a normal evening. If you’re turned on, you don’t show it, and it makes Leehan flush with shame. “What do you think, baby boy?” 

He huffs out a laugh at the question. How is he supposed to know? But you’re looking at him expectantly, so he scrambles to come up with something. “I mean– Usually I’m, like, in bed, I guess. Thinking about you, imagining you, smelling you…” God, don’t get him started on smelling you. 

You hum thoughtfully and lift off of the table. In seconds, you’re hovering over him, flashing him a devious grin. Your hips are so close to straddling his, and you slap his hand away when it reaches up to touch your waist. You hold yourself up by the back cushions with your arms on either side of his head. He’s trapped, and suddenly, everything else in the room is overshadowed by you.

 “Is that right? You think about all the dirty things you wanna do to me while getting off to the smell of my perfume?”

Of course you’d know his weak spot. You’re so close to him and he thinks he’s going to lose his mind if he doesn’t get to touch you. Your perfume is invading his senses, and flaming hot desire coils in his abdomen. He squeezes his eyes shut to prevent them from rolling into his skull as his hips twitch into the air.

“Touch yourself, Hannie,” you say sweetly.

He takes a deep breath and grabs his cock again. He’s known to leak like a faucet, especially after meeting you, and his hand is covered in sticky white within the first few seconds of stroking himself.

He knows there’s raspy noises falling from his open mouth, but he can barely hear them over his heart pounding. The way you take over his brain is overwhelming and he can hardly think. Your lips graze his neck, and the skin litters with goosebumps despite the hot air between the two of you. 

If he opens his eyes, he’s got a face full of titties, and he doesn’t know if he can handle that despite every cell in his body telling him to look. He wants to be good for you and hold out until you give him permission to stop, but it feels so good that he’s speeding his hand up.

“Ha– Ah, fuck–” Slick, sloppy sounds fill the room as he works himself to the edge for you.

“Let go,” you whisper in his ear. His hand rips away from his cock and grips onto his thigh instead, getting it wet and gross with precum. It takes what feels like an eternity for him to back away from the precipice this time. Fear runs his blood cold when he realizes he almost didn’t last. 

He’s always good for you, can edge himself for as long as you'd like. He doesn’t know why he’s sensitive today, especially after spending a week beating it.

You pull your face out of his neck, and he slumps against the couch. You smile at the sight and caress his cheek. He melts into the touch, but you pull away to card through his tangled hair instead. You used the grip on his strands to tilt his head back so that he’s looking up at you. 

“I do think you were louder that time. Moaned just like you did in those recordings.” He opens his mouth to say something, but loses his train of thought when you plop down on his lap. 

“Fffuck–” he moans, voice all pathetic and high-pitched. 

“Stay still,” you warn when his hips buck into yours, and he tries so hard, but even the soft fabric of your skirt is too rough on his sensitive dick. He struggles to keep his eyes open, but he’d rather die than take them off of you, so he blinks through the tears pooling in his waterline. The action causes the tears to trickle down, and the air is cold against his wet cheeks.

You stay like that until his breaths are more even and he’s somewhat calmed down. He lets out a displeased noise when you lift off of him and sit back on the coffee table.

“C’mon, Hannie. I’m not done with you yet. Let me see.” You push his legs apart with your knee. He looks down with you, and the sight makes him burn with embarrassment. He’s leaking so much it’s soaking into the couch, and it’s another sight he has to squeeze his eyes shut to get away from.

“W-what, are you j-just gonna–” he swallows thickly, clears his throat, and tries again. “How long are you gonna make me do this?”

You tilt your head and smile at him like you aren’t melting his brain into goo. “However long it takes for you to learn your lesson.” Leehan whines a little in protest.

“Just wanted you to look at me, missed you so much.”

The look in your eyes softens and you lean forward to place a heartfelt kiss on his lips. “I missed you too, Hannie. So. Much,” you say, cupping his cheeks and pressing more gentle kissing around his face. “It was so hard to focus at work when you kept sending me those treats. But bad boys still have to take their punishments, yeah?” Leehan sighs longingly and nods, resting his head against the back cushions, and reaching for his cock when you instruct him to start over.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

By the fifth denial, he’s a shaking mess, falling apart at the seams and only holding himself together by your command. He’s done for the second you flip your skirt up, slide your panties off, circle your clit right in front of him. You’re so close but so far, and he’s definitely losing his mind. 

“Please– N/N, let me…could fuck you so good,” he begs helplessly, deep voice strained and words stringing together. It’s the first time tonight you actually look interested in what’s happening, and he can’t figure out where to look–at your pretty face as you make yourself feel good, at the wetness leaking out of your pulsing heat, at the way your tits shake when you tug at your nipples. You’re biting your lip to keep quiet, keeping your pretty noises to yourself. Leehan thinks that’s the cruelest part of this punishment. 

His hips are fucking up into his hand in a sloppily, a stark contrast to his usually controlled thrusts. He’s not easy to turn into a mess, but you know him better than he knows himself. You know his limits, know that he won’t cum unless you tell him to, know how badly he needs your forgiveness. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just fuck me, please?” But you’re not looking at him. Your eyes are focused on his cock drooling all over his legs, at the way it twitches when he’s close. Your hips twitch, and your cunt drools on the table, and his mouth runs dry. He’s too delirious to figure out if your reactions are because of him, if he’s doing good for you. 

“Stop, pretty boy.”

His hand trembles as he pulls it away from his dick and flops it against the couch. He gasps harshly, heaves loudly, and more tears stream down his face as his hips chase friction that’s already gone.

His head is leaning against the back cushions and lolled to the side, but he’s still watching you touch yourself. His mouth hangs open from all of his pathetic begging, and there’s a thin trail of saliva pooling in his mouth and dribbling onto his t-shirt. 

His eyelids are so heavy, but he watches brainlessly as you tease your opening, dip a finger into the heat. It comes back out drenched in creamy white, and he has to dig his nails into the cushion to stop himself from grabbing his dick without permission.

You pull your hands away from your body and straddle him again. He nearly goes cross-eyed when your bare cores touch. It’s so wet, and his entire body shivers with need.

“Aw, Hannie. Look at me. Tell me what you want.”

“Mm, want– wanna taste you, wanna fuck you so bad.” You giggle, and he loses himself somewhere between your sparkly eyes and shiny lips.

“Wanna taste me?” You reaffirm, and he nods dumbly. You straighten his head up and cup his cheeks between your fingers and thumb. You make him watch as you use your free hand to repeat the motions, gathering your wetness on your finger, pushing it through your opening and pulling it out. 

You whimper out freely this time, and the sound is so pretty and sinful Leehan wishes he could tattoo it on his brain, wishes he had recorded it so he can hear it again later. Your hand forces his lips to pucker and his mouth to open, and you press your wet fingers onto his tongue. 

Leehan’s eyes roll again, and his eyebrows crease as the taste of you, the smell of you invades his senses. You always taste so good, so sweet to him.

His eyes focus on you again, but his vision clouds and his hips buck up against you. You slide against him so deliciously, but it’s over too soon when you slide your fingers out of his mouth and pry your hips away from his.

You wipe your wet fingers on his shirt and remind him to look at you, but he is already looking at you, has barely torn his eyes away from you in the last thirty minutes.

He’s completely awestruck, and maybe a little delirious when he swears he can see the faint halo hovering above your head. He tries to tell you how perfect, how much of an angel you are, but his words come out jumbled and unintelligible. 

“Do you have a color for me, baby?”

“Mhm, fuck– green, n-need you so bad. ’m so sorry, p-please, you look so beautiful, t–”

You interrupt him by pressing your lips against his, and Leehan’s convinced he would’ve been talking for the rest of his life if you hadn’t. He’s pretty sure he melts into a puddle of goo when your lips collide, yours so perfect and plush against his. Any function his brain is still performing shuts down immediately, and you have to handle the kiss by yourself, because his lips are slack and useless against yours. There’s a string of saliva connecting the two of you when you pull away from him.

“I think my pretty boy’s at his limit, hm?” You ask, and he doesn’t really know what you’re saying, but anything sounds good coming from you, so he nods and watches with his jaw on the floor as you stand up and pull your skirt off. You pull his shirt off as well, and you’re both bare and vulnerable but safe in your own world, just as Leehan longed for.

You cup his cheeks again and hold his face so he can look up at you as you sink down on his cock, and the noise he makes when you bottom out is broken and pitiful even to his own ears. He knows he must look so fucked out and stupid, but you’re looking at him with so much love in your eyes that he’s sure he looks beautiful anyway. 

You wrap around him so well, your cunt is so tight. It feels like he’d forgotten how it feels to be buried inside you, and to be experiencing it for the first time again has to be parallel to some sort of spiritual ascension. Leehan doesn’t know what he did to deserve it, but he does know he’d spend an eternity here if you allowed it.

Your hands move to grip his shoulders, and you make the most heavenly face of ecstasy Leehan has ever seen. You lift your hips to slide him out, and bottom out again. Your cunt’s sucking him in so greedily, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep this up. 

“I’ll let you cum if you fuck me, pretty boy,” you say like you read his mind. You grab his lifeless hands and place them on your waist, then grip the back of the couch again. He gets the message clearly, holding you in place as he jerks into you. His thrusts aren’t coordinated at all, and it’s out of pure habit when he angles his hips to fuck right into your sweet spot. 

“Fuck yeah, Hannie. That’s so good, you’re so good,” you moan out, and he uses strength he barely has to aim for that spot, to hear those words from you again. On a particularly hard thrust, your eyes flutter closed.

“Look at me, N/N. Please– look at me,” he begs, voice cracking, and when you do, your eyes are glossy, tears pulling in your waterline. It’s so hot, and finally, your attention is his, and he’s making you feel good, but he’s not gonna last like this.

“You fill me up so good, Hannie. Make me feel so good,” you say breathlessly, eyes locked on his. “Gonna cum for me? Gonna fill me up nicely?” And he’s nodding, pitiful whimpers falling from his lips, whatever you say. 

You trail a hand up his abdomen, to his chest, and tug at his nipple. The rush of pleasure he feels is so intense that the knot in his stomach is fraying and snapping so quickly he can’t even warn you, but he tries through strangled gasps: “Cumming, ‘m, fu–”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

It takes Leehan a while to come back to Earth. He’s so tired he can barely move, but you kiss him until his mind returns home. After asking if he’s okay five times and getting five verbal “yes’s,” you clean the two of you up and lead him to bed.

It’s still when he speaks again, eyes searching for yours in the dark room, “I really am sorry, Y/N. I should’ve been more considerate. I respect your work so much, I just got so lonely…” You smile at him softly and reach a hand up to rub circles into his back.

“I’m sorry you were so lonely, Hannie. I should’ve managed my time better, should’ve taken your feelings more seriously. From now on, I’ll keep work at work, and after my project, we can both take time off and go on a vacation. How’s that?”

“That’s perfect,” he says, and means it wholeheartedly, falling asleep with a smile of his own.

✧･ﾟ: *

a/n : FUCK THIS TOOK FOREVER TO WRITE LOL i reread it three times pls lmk if there r still typos <3

[mygnolia]

sunghoon when you’re sick

pairing: sunghoon x gn!reader headcannons!

cw: cursing, mentions of chicken noodle soup (the food not the song), married life, getting sick/colds, hoonie my bae

wc: 1k

- okay so i feel like because he’s on the ice a lot

- he’s cold

- like in en-o-clock ep 20 behind he said it had been a while since he was on the ice so he was cold but that just means whenever he’s performing he’s not cold or not that cold at least

- and he’s acclimated to ice rink temperatures right?

- (and self projecting here but i myself am very cold all the time and it takes me a long time to get warm but i never get hot-?)

- so i feel like maybe one day its raining

- or the heater is broken and you have to suffer

- and you’re both on the bed, scrolling through your phones, but you’re shivering

- but sunghoon’s used to it

- only issue? he is not a raging furnace

- he’s a block of ice

- “sunghoon i’m cold.”

- “y/n, i can’t help you.” he’s just honest w/ everything atp

- “yes you can! cuddle me.” and you’d forcibly grab his arm and tangle urself with him

- you come to the very shocking realization that sunghoon is literally colder than the temperature outside.

- you pull away IMMEDIATELY and scowl at him

- he shrugs as if to tell you “i told you so.”

- he’s not offended he just accepted that he will never be warm

- man knows you’re just trying not to become the ice cube that he is

- omg sunghoon emotional brick and ice cube look at my…shape skills go

- so you’d go back to becoming one with the blankets but it doesn’t work and you’re like “hoonie :((“

- “yes dear.” sunghoon rolls his eyes, looking over at your covered figure nonetheless abd adjusts your blankets for you

- “can we cuddle, the blankets aren’t working :((“

- sunghoon probably gets an eye workout with how many times he rolls his eyes

- but he… L words u…so “okay. come here.” and he puts his phone down on the nightstand and gives you a hug

- internally he would laugh at your antics but he knows you’re just cold and he obviously wants to help but

- mans literally -2 degrees in body heat idk what to tell u

- but after a while you warm up the blankets EVENTUALLY get hotter

- u probs fell asleep and your body heat increased so you’re warm now

- he falls asleep too

- u end up with a COLD and he’s fine btw

- through the coughs and sniffles you blame him for not being your personal fireplace

- he goes “we slept together???? and you cuddled me??? for three hours??? fyi you could have gotten more blankets”

- ‘why can’t this man just spoonfeed u chicken noodle soup like a good bf’

- “can i at least have a kiss?” you pout at him underneath your blankets, even though the heater is in perfect working condition, and sunghoon feels himself falling harder for you everyday

- you are just so DAMN!!! CUTE!!! he can only handle so much until he says fuck it and puts a ring on ur finger

- omg married life with sunghoon or wtv…. NOT blushing

- “no. i’m going to get sick if I kiss you too.”

- “I AM SO SICK OF U!” /j

- ur stupid play on words makes him laugh and he gives in w/ a small peck :>

- even though ur hating him for not being cute and cuddly he just can’t get sick

- he has a competition coming up! sunghoon can’t be under the weather when he’s already under ur spell >:

- “take your medicine goddamnit” but it’s lovingly scolding you as he pushes the weirdly cherry flavored liquid down and follows up with a cup of warm water

- always has tissues on hand

- you’re in the car? tissues. you’re in the kitchen? no babe don’t use the paper towels to blow your nose it’s too rough on your skin

- if you want to cuddle he will say no

- I MEAN EVERY OTHER TIME HE JUST SITS THERE AND LETS U DO WHATEVER U WANT

- “guess this is my life now”

- “i can’t believe you won’t cuddle with me :(“

- “i cant believe you got sick despite hugging me and still having three blankets.” NO CHILL

- sunghoon simultaneously makes fun of you but will take care of you

- if he’s not home expect a sticky note or a voicemail

- “ahh, sorry for ringing your phone so early, i hope you’re getting your sleep <33 just wanted to call and make sure you drink the water in the bottle next to you, i warmed it this morning before i left for practice, and there’s some food in the fridge that jay brought over yesterday. hope you feel better soon i love you”

- alexa play fighting bleeding losing…no matter what i do by txt

- yeah he’s so sweet he’d stop the teasing bc he knows you hate being sick and doesn’t want to make it worse for you

- sometimes you wake up and you literally can’t breathe??

- breathing through nose era when!! /j

- you’d try to get your work done, hoon alr called sick days off for u but you have nothing to do at home so you get your laptop

- “Hi honey,” Sunghoon greets from the doorway, quickly kicking off his shoes and entering your bedroom. “I brought you some tea, Heeseung said it would help you since his mom gave it to him. Do you want some right now?” You nod, coughing with the quick and unexpected movement of your head.

- Sunghoon comes back with a steaming cup of warm golden tea, and blows on the top before letting you take a sip. “Be careful, it’s hot.” And you dismiss his words before you’re hissing at your burned tongue.

- u don’t catch a break huh

- you finish the cup of tea by the end of the night and sunghoon comes to give u a little forehead kith before telling you to sleep

- tmr u wake up and you can BREATHE again

- which gods did this why do you finally feel like a functioning human being

- ANYWAYS THOUGH!! Sunghoon’s competition is in two hours you don’t have time to waste hello?

- Outfit with hoodie, giant puffer jacket, and a turtleneck, and the thickest pants known to mankind

- driving to the rink where he’s competing and watching him with a giant lovesick grin without him knowing you’re there

- you give him a hug when he’s done

- happy at first and loves to see you, but wants to make sure you’re okay

- You both go home and he’s like “half of that outfit is mine.”

- yeah. he’s not wrong. anyways.

- celebratory dinner! he kisses you many many times thanking you for coming out to see him

- happy to finally cuddle again, holding you close now they you’ve recovered

- he got sick the next day.

—

f for sunghoon. thank you.

[dannyricsmirrorball]

fifth wheel • ln4 part 3 ੈ✩‧₊˚

ੈ✩‧₊˚ pairing || lando norris x reader

ੈ✩‧₊˚ genre || social media au

ੈ✩‧₊˚ summary || y/n is always fifth wheeling george, carmen, alex, and lily.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ a/n || final part yay! also perf in time for lando’s p2!!! not proof read.

part 1 part 2

liked by lorenzotl, patriciooward, and 762,871 others

alex_albon monte-carlo padel masters

tagged georgerussell63, yourusername, maxvertsappen1, landonorris, richardpardon

username1 max has friends?!

username2 zandvoort front two rows

charles_leclerc oh!

⤷ pierregasly it’s ok mate, we’ll play together

⤷ yourusername sorry 🥱 maybe if u brought alex and kika w u

username3 ok but how did they play if there was 5 of them, did they take turns?

⤷ username4 nah i bet y/n just sat on her phone and watched them play

alex_albon also P.S. y/n did not actually do anything

⤷ yourusername WDYM?! me and lando subbed 🧐

⤷ georgerussell63 he kept playing for u y/n?

⤷ yourusername HOW IS THAT MY FAULT, HE’S A BALL HOG!

⤷ alex_albon u forced him to play for u y/n.

⤷ yourusername this is defamation. i will not take this slander!

⤷ username4 called it

username5 maxverstappen new hyoerfixation incoming

f1 who won tho?

⤷ yourusername me ofc 😇

⤷ landonorris us*

⤷ yourusername sorry yes ofc team work makes the dream work!

⤷ maxverstappen1 but yourusername u didn’t even play?

⤷ landonorris i played for the both of us. she transferred her energy to me so i could play w our combined powers

⤷ username6 lando and y/n aren’t being hostile. we are so back!

liked by danielricciardo, mclaren, and 632,091 others

landonorris my 🌟 girl

username7 this soft launch will be the death of me.

username8 the day we find out who she is, is the day that i die

danielricciardo watch out she’ll take over lando.jpg

maxfewtrell yuck right in front of me

yourusername whipped

⤷ landonorris sns

⤷ username9 i’m sorry? is that meant to mean sorry not sorry 😭😭 they’re actual children

username10 idc how many ppl call me delusional, it’s y/n FS

⤷ username11 ok grandma let’s get u to bed

liked by romeobeckham, mickschumacher, and 97,032 others

yourusername spicy salmon nigiri u rock my world 🍣

username12 ok yeah rip my lando x y/n fantasies

username13 final confirmation we needed

username14 how long is this soft launch gonna last

landonorris gag

⤷ username15 someone sounds jealous 👀

⤷ landonorris sushi makes me sick

⤷ maxfewtrell such a baby

lilymhe gets a bf and forgets her best friends

⤷ alex_albon it’s ok lily just relax

⤷ lilymhe NO YOUVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS UR WHOLE LIFE ALEX DONT EVEN PRETEND

⤷ username16 i just know alex is so relieved that he doesn’t have share lily anymore

username17 does anyone else find it funny/weird that y/n will let rumours circle abt her and other drivers and lando will do the same w random ppl he’s talks to and they both just follow this kind of philosophy of just ignoring it bc it’s baseless but as soon as someone so much as hints to the idea of them together they go ham at squashing it

⤷ username18 maybe it’s bc they’re actually friends so they don’t want ppl to ruin it w all the rumours

⤷ username17 but that’s what i mean like they don’t mind the rumours abt their other friends but when it’s each other it’s like NO THATS NOT TRUE

⤷ username19 i will stand by that alex and george tried to set them up on that golf trip and they started taking but one of them or both fucked it up and now

⤷ username20 and i will stand by that they are actually together

⤷ username19 it’s ok to be a little delusional

liked by username81, username4, and 18,409 others

f1wags y/n with lando recently… wonder how their partners feel about this…

tagged landonorris, yourusername

username21 nah no way they aren’t dating

⤷ username22 they’ve made it so clear they’re just friends

⤷ username21 bro look at how much they’re together, she’s literally in the paddock w him

⤷ username22 they’re friends??? makes sense that they’d hang out.

⤷ username21 yeah but she’s always been friends w him but is always in either williams or mercedes merch and motorhome but is suddenly a mclaren girly

username23 what a slut. she literally has a boyfriend and he has a girlfriend.

⤷ username24 she’s just mad that she can’t use alex and george anymore bc they probably saw her for who she is and is now leaching off lando

username25 ahhhh they’re so cute 🥹

username26 nah but i do feel lowkey bad for their partners bc if my s/o was acting like this w another person…

username27 imagine being his gf tho… like he’s refusing to show her face but is parading another girl around the paddock

liked by carlossainz55, olliebearman, and 809,762 others

charles_leclerc tbt good times 🌊

tagged arthurleclerc, lorenzotl, alexandrasaintmleux, carla.brocker, charlotte2304, alex_albon, georgerussell63, yourusername, lilymhe, carmenmmundt, heidiberger, landonorris, danielricciardo

georgerussell63 …mate

yourusername party rockin 🤙🐚🌊😮‍💨🌅🏝️🏖️🏄‍♀️

⤷ username30 my girl is overcompensating bc she knows she can’t get out of this one

⤷ username31 what?

⤷ username30 i mean this pretty much confirms that y/n and lando are actually dating, like w all the photos of them and now that we know that they actually did see each other during the break

alexandrasaintmleux CHARLES what did i say abt posting w/o showing me first 😭

landonorris lol

⤷ username31 they are sweating

username32 you’re telling me that the leclerc family, all their gfs, lily, alex, george, carmen, daniel, heidi, y/n, AND lando ALL stayed in corsica together during part of the break AND WE DIDNT KNOW UNTIL KNOW

alex_albon at least i’m not THIS bad lilymhe

lilymhe charles…

danielricciardo LOL MATE

⤷ heidiberger_ don’t even danny

username33 IM SORRY BUT THIS IS SO CONFIRMATION ABT Y/N AND LANDO… I MEAN LOOK AT EVERYONES COMMENTS, THEYRE ALL STRESSING AND THIS WAS SO OBV A COUPLES TRIP

⤷ username34 i mean idk still like their comments to eachother are so passive aggressive and george, alex, and charles are really good mates w the both of them as well y/n is famed for being the biggest grid couple third wheel so maybe they were just being massive third wheels OR they also brought their partners but charles just didn’t tag them to keep it private

⤷ username35 or u guys hate to admit that y/n and lando are together and lando isn’t going to get w u 🤷‍♀️

username36 charles really came in w a bang

username37 the way charles’ silence is SOOOO loud

⤷ username38 yeah he is fs getting it in the gc

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux, carmenmmundt, landonorris, georgerussell63, alex_albon, heidiberger_

liked by georgerussell63, alex_albon, and 320,918 others

yourusername fuck it we ball

tagged landonorris

username42 OH

username43 ITS HAPPENING ITS HAPPENING Y/N LANDO HARD LAUNCH

lilymhe i knew you’d cave. all those soft launch photos i took and FOR WHAT. lasted a month 😐

charles_leclerc 🤍

⤷ yourusername this is ur fault

⤷ charles_leclerc whatttttt idk what ur talking abt

heidiberger_ i just heard danny let out an audible sigh

⤷ danielricciardo no more stress 😮‍💨

⤷ yourusername did better then i thought u would danny

⤷ heidiberger_ don’t be fooled… i think he told the entire rbr faculty

alex_albon see you’d think that this would mean they’d leave us alone…

⤷ yourusername never getting rid of us albono 😊

⤷ landonorris now why would u want that mate?! 😘

username57 the caption. she really said fuck it lets hard launch!

username58 they really squashed the slander

landonorris absolute legends i reckon

⤷ yourusername ballers

landonorris my girl 🧡

⤷ yourusername 🤭🫠

carlossainz55 finally

username34 what?! no way?! i’m shocked 😦 we are so shocked 🥱

mclaren we’ll take it from here williamsracing mercedesamgf1

team_quadrant the real boss 😌

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 570,398 others

landonorris cute.

username42 i can’t. they’re too cute.

username43 did he take her to his family home omfg 😭

maxfewtrell whippeddddd

⤷ yourusername 😐

⤷ maxfewtrell sorry y/n mb

danielricciardo cutsie

⤷ landonorris 😘😘

georgerussell63 double trouble

⤷ alex_albon god george u don’t have to say everything that comes to ur mind

lilymhe she’s so pretty

⤷ landonorris she is 😍

⤷ yourusername i love uuuuuu baby

⤷ landonorris i love u too love

⤷ yourusername oh.

⤷ landonorris oh.

⤷ lilymhe I LOVE U TOO LOVERRRR

⤷ alex_albon u get used to it landonorris

liked by yourusername, lilymhe, and 126,090 others

lando.jpg my girl

tagged yourusername

username42 god i am not ur strongest soldier

danielricciardo peep the merch 😌

⤷ yourinstagram enchante danny 😉

yourinstagram shop the look enchante 🩷

⤷ enchante 😍😍

username43 they’re everything

heidiberger_ where’s mine? daniel3.jpg

⤷ daniel3.jpg COMING RIGHT UP

username44 lando is the standard

⤷ username45 never thought i’d see the day someone described lando norris as the standard

yourusername obsessed much 🤭

⤷ lando.jpg with u? always

⤷ yourusername oh 😳

yourusername my own jpg post?! i must be special

⤷ lando.jpg the specialist 🧡

⤷ yourusername oh 🤭

username46 dead at y/n being taken aback my lando’s comments

lilymhe my girl 😍😍😍

⤷ yourusername my girl 😘😘🤭🤭

⤷ lando.jpg pipe down miss alex_albon come collect ur girl

⤷ alex_albon don’t fight it mate

carmenmmundt prettiest girl in the world

⤷ lando.jpg that she is

username47 she’s come so far from her third wheeling days 🥹

⤷ alex_albon has she?

bonus!

liked by williamsracing, carmenmmundt, and 228,460 others

alex_albon proof that it changed nothing 😐

tagged yourusername, landonorris, lilymhe, carmenmmundt, georgerussell63

yourusername boohoo 🙄

landonorris u love us ❤️‍🔥

hope u enjoyed 🤍🤍

[croucify]

pls pls pls write a hamzah as ur bf hcs 🙏🙏mehehe

✶ hamzahthefantastic boyfriend hcs

warnings: nsfw content at the enddd

a/n: my first time writing hcs, had so much time writing so i hope u like this!!! <3

sfw !

✶ he brings you your favorite food when he comes home late or films the whole day with martin

✶ holds out clothes for you when you're shopping together and even picks some for you but sometimes he purposely picks out the most hideous pieces as a joke

"this would look good babe," he pulls out a shirt that has a lion's head, trying not to burst out laughing when he saw your reaction.

you roll your eyes but didn't try to hide the smile on your face.

✶ cooking together but he ends up hugging you from behind and not helping you

✶ screams louder than you when a jumpscare comes on a horror movie

✶ when you play video games together, he shows off to you and even invites you to be in a slushynoobz video with mandy

"you guys made a version of me in sims?" you asked, looking at the three of them.

mandy who would usually have a straight face during their videos, smiles and gives hamzah a teasing look. "yeah well, someone here forced me to make one so we could play them when we film."

✶ likes to stay in bed with you the whole day cuddling especially after a long day of work

✶ helps you choose your next nail set and chooses the shape so when you rake or run your hands on his back and head they feel good

✶ always uses the machine next to yours at the gym in case any creeps come near you

✶ secretly takes photos of you when you guys are out together

✶ still gets shy when you're out with other people or filming videos together

nsfw !

✶ hands are all over you when you have a nice outfit on

✶ likes to touch your ass ALL THE DAMN TIME even when you're wearing pajamas or a dress, his hands always find their way down there

✶ has a hair tie with him so he can tie your hair up when you go down on him

✶ so loud in bed especially during your first time together

✶ when watching a movie and a sex scene comes on, it gets you both riled up and you end up doing it right then and there, completely forgetting about the movie playing

✶ likes when you're on top and taking control but also bucks his hips up when your movements start getting sloppier

"i got you baby." his hands are on your waist, holding you down before he pounds into you.

✶ at parties, he likes peppering kisses all over you which ends with you swaying and rubbing your ass on his crotch

✶ when he finally gets used to all of it, he fucks you anywhere he can

[xotication]

im actually obsessed with ur writing😫could u write about domestic things with kaneki? (idk if that’s the word) like slow mornings, going out to shop, etc!!

of course i can

☆,

i personally feel like slow mornings with ken come after having a night of fun.. ifykwim.

that being said though, he’s always extremely soft with you. & he’s doing any & all work so you don’t have to move all that much.

you guys spend almost two hours just laying in bed, talking, rotting.. well you’re mainly doing all the talking but ken is listening intently. he could tell exactly what you were saying ten minutes ago, without any fail. it’s so cute.

when you finally decide you wanna get up, ken makes his way to the bathroom first so he can put toothpaste on both of your guys toothbrushes.

ken will also fully try to speak to you as he’s brushing his teeth, it never makes any fucken sense but he refuses to stay quiet.

after teeth brushing, he’ll help you wash your face & then he’s on his way to make you wtv you’re feeling for breakfast.

trust, he literally wants you doing NOTHING.

“do you need help, ken? i can make the eggs”

“NO. just go sit down..”

“oh- ok you don’t have to YELL”

“sorry…”

LMAOO like he’s so passionate.

you have to stop him when he’s tryna spoon feed you your entire meal.

“i got it ken, thank you..”

“just say you hate me & want me to die.”

“OMG.”

—

on to shopping, most bfs don’t really like going shopping with their gfs because only god knows how long they’ll actually be shopping for.

but nonono. NOT KANEKI.

this man would be your personal stylist if he could be. you’ll be searching through the racks of clothes, mf waltz on over with at least 5 hangers & a big ass smile.

“here, try these on! i think they’d look good on you”

“ken, i can find my own-”

“SH. dressing room. you. NOW.”

& much to your surprise, his selections always do end up looking good on you. he’s making sure every color is gonna go with your skin tone. making sure nothing will stand out too harshly, & taking into account the things he already knows you don’t like.

not to mention, this man doesn’t let you pay for like, anything?

one time you guys were out thrifting & you kept finding the cutest pieces ever. only to reach into your purse & realize you’d forgotten your entire wallet.

“ken.. i forgot my wallet.”

when i tell you, the pure disgust written on this man’s face is OTHERWORLDLY.

“so..? who said i was gonna let you fucken pay for anything anyway? put everything you want in the cart & keep it pushing.”

“but ken.. that’s so much money”

“my money belongs to you”

your jaw dropped internally. it took all your willpower to not drop to the floor, roll around, & start giggling.

also! ken is a very big fan of matching or coordinated outfits. he loves loves loves being able to show that you guys are together. by any small or big means possible.

i’d also like to kindly remind you that ken absolutely does have a ring with your name on it :3

oh & he most definitely shares his clothes with you! he thinks it's so cute when he finds you in his closet, "what're you looking for, pretty?"

"erm.. i dunno, i really liked that one shirt you wore like 2 days ago."

"this one?" he's holding up a plain black shirt. on the back side there's angle wings, & the shirt itself is a little faded out from when he first got it, so you love the aesthetic of it.

"yes!"

"all you had to do was ask, honey."

—

i think one thing ken really enjoys doing with you is taking walks. like no matter the time nor weather. he loves a good walk & yap session with his favorite girl.

“baby, can we go for a walk”

“what’re you, a dog?”

“no.. i just wanna walk & talk.. well, hear you talk”

“we can talk in here..”

“but i wanna talk outside, get some fresh air.. yk?”

“fine.”

you guys end up walking down to a park nearby, & you're of course telling ken about the most of random things you've been seeing & hearing lately.

the two of you are gossiping about your workspaces, friend groups, social media drama & so on.

ken ends up picking like a million flowers & he puts them in your hair, you don't even stop him because you know it's making him happy, "you're so beautiful, y/n." he says when he's finally all done.

"i know."

"yeah? & how do you know?"

"you tell me everyday"

ken has the biggest, stupidest smile on his face when you say this. he feels like he's doing his job right. he opens insta & takes a picture of you in that moment & captions it, "my flower girl" & hits share.

—

ahem.

ken most definitely reads you books. it is the best bonding time ever. especially if it's a really good book too.

he loves to fucken slam the book down & debrief anything & everything with you.

if something crazy happens, ken will fully throw the damn book across the room as he's reading it.

"ken?!" "HOLYYYY FUCKEN SHIIITT"

"boy go pick the fucken book up! i didn't even hear what happened yet!"

"oh, right."

& then he's scrambling to get the book & sitting you in his lap so you can read the tea too. when you finally do, you gasp & he's all in your ear lie, "MHMM, i told you!!"

one time you bought 50 shades of grey without telling him what it was about & when he finally got to the spicy parts, his jaw dropped to the ground.

"y/n, what the hell am i reading?!"

"a book!!"

"let's recreate?"

you two most definitely recreated.

—

this is so random but i’ve been thinking about kaneki playing dress to impress SMMM.

when he sees it trending all over his tiktok & insta, he’s absolutely itching to play with you.

one day you come home from being out with a couple friends & ken is on ft with hide, practically screaming.

“CHAT WHERE TF ARE THE SCARVES?!?! there’s only a minute left!!”

you peer over his shoulder to sneak a peek at his screen & low & behold. it’s dti.

you lean down to kiss his cheek & he’s like “oh my god, babe! go get your laptop, you have to play this shit with us”

..

it’s been only 2 rounds & ken is whining about how you placed podium TWICE when he’s been trying for the past hour.. or two.

“baby.. this isn’t fair.”

“kaneki this is so rigged.” hide chimes in.

you’re cackling in your spot, “just fucken try harder?!”

“I HAVE BEEN”

you look at ken’s screen & see the worst possible outfit for “ghosts vs ghouls”

he literally made their skin green & thought he was eating the competition UPPP.

not to mention the fully purple outfit he put on, & random black top hat? with bulky black boots, & a makeup look that looked BUTCHERED.

“ken, my love. that outfit is horrible.”

he’s just about ready to put his mac through a wood chipper. there’s a pout on his face.

“okay well- can you play on my computer so i can get at least one win.” he says in the softest voice ever & you feel like it’s taking all your might not to laugh.

ken just wanted his dti win. :p

i’m so sorry this took so fucken long. ☠️

[cinnaomorashi]

im responsible for picking up my cousins after school and today, i decided to bring my husband along. i made sure to use the restroom at his house before we left since i have a small bladder 😓 we left and parked to wait, but 20 minutes in, i felt *super* uncomfortable.

i tried distracting myself by talking to my husband and painting my nails but i only managed to take the polish off until i couldnt stop squirming. he patronizingly asked if i had to pee and i scowled at him since it was obvious lol. but i tried to hold on. i had about 40/50 minutes until i was able to use the toilet at my house, but i literally struggled to hold it all.

true, i was casually sipping from my water, since hitting his vape and cart kept making my mouth dry, and being hydrated is good for you anyways. i just didn't expect it to get to me so soon. i literally used the toilet about thirty minutes prior.

thankfully the day before we stopped by mcdonalds and i accidentally forgot to throw away my small cup. i kept eyeing it as i was scrolling through tumblr to distract myself. it just.. didn't work. only about 10-20 minutes later i absolutely couldn't sit still. my legs were crossed tightly and i couldn't stop shaking. at this point my husband was scrolling through instagram, showing me videos that he *knows* i will laugh at. i did end up laughing at a couple of them, making me actually leak. i lightly hit him and told him to stop, even though i enjoy him teasing me.

the dampness of my panties started to drive me crazy and 45 minutes in, i grabbed the cup and jumped into the backseat. i struggled to pop the top off of the cup and to pull my pj shorts and panties down. i began to dribble and i almost panicked. there was hardly any room in the backseat for me to squat and pee, but i managed to sit myself up and position the cup underneath me.

the hissing was louder than the ac and music in the car, which embarrassed and turned me on at the same time. i trembled as i squatted over the cup, feeling the warmness through it. i actually moaned, just because i could. it felt *so* rewarding, even though i was only holding for about 45 minutes. i couldn't even make it to an hour. 😅

when i was finally done, my hand shook from how relieved i was, but i had to stop since the cup was filled to the brim. i carefully put the lid back on and passed it to my bf, feeling a couple drops spill onto my hand. i asked him to pour it out as i tried to clean myself up with tissues, then clean up any damp spots in the back. always keep a small, emergency car cleaning kit friends! it's soo helpful if u love omo just as much as u love driving.

i crawled up to the front seat and sighed. my husband turned to me and said, "you could've held it longer, sweetheart." of course, i sent him another glare since we both knew i clearly *couldn't*. but at the same time, i wondered how much longer i could *really* hold it, as if i didn't have the cup to go in. like running errands except i can't use the toilet until i get home, preferably with my husband in case things go wrong.

either way, i was glad that i still didn't have to pee anymore. an overwhelmed bladder and school traffic with a side of college game day traffic does not mix well with me.

long story short, don't hit ur nic/cart if u have a small bladder and have to wait a while to use the toilet (for those who don't smoke, vapes and carts make ur mouth dry, especially if u hit them back to back or hitting them for long periods of times). regardless, stay hydrated friends! water has so many benefits, but too much can be bad, so stay safe as well! <3

[seelestia]

YEEE NPNP!! college was nervewracking ngl (still is), at least when i started last year august iirc? but yeah! do you know what major you want? alas i cannot chill as much as i used to smh

heheh fr tho >:3 i think the fontaine arc was really well written and went into more depth (get it? depth? waters? ok i'll stop now) and because of how much lore we were given since it seems to be more complex ngl. as for myself, i'm sticking albedo and lyney under the microscope so i can understand them both better

especially albedo. i'd very much like to pick his brain the same way i wanna pick my boyfriend's- coughs

HEJSJD THE WAY I STARTED SMILING AFTER READING THE HCS,,needed that ngl cuz i've been stressed a lot. but i think bedo would be the kind of person who'd do that and create an artificial flower and then name it after me hehehe

but hey, who's to say wanderer wouldn't leave you a flower someplace where you can find it? just a small and sweet gesture and will very most likely deny it (and fails) when you tease him for it mwehehhe i can be devious too ya know or maybe even ayato leaves you a little present like a bracelet or hair accessory after a long day of work

AND NOO ITS OK I LOVE LISTENING TO UR RAMBLES TOO /gen /pos

actually yea i do have some new vibedo trivia! we've officially become engaged and he was the one who proposed first <3 that and he has a tendency to call me "sweet violet" since its an actual flower as well hehe. and tysm!! i'm honestly just doing my best to stay happy since my irl bedo is like very complementary to my personality if that makes sense? like he tends to wear darker clothing, i tend to wear a lot of pastels kinda thing. and so far, we're doing rlly good! sure there are some challenges we're dealing with now but im doing my best to stay positive ^^

also me being 20 ew. somehow i'm still being referred as old sheesh

ok im done rambling now im passing the mic to u hehe /lh

ah, truly. the price of education = freedom to chill !!! 😔 but alas, life is a ongoing journey with hurdles (and i happen to not be an athlete /j). currently, i have my eyes on a social science major atm! so i can hopefully pursue psychology :3 but my second choice is english bcs i cannot stray from the path of linguistics and literature no matter how much i tried /pos. ALSOSOSO if you don't mind, can you tell me more abt what you do in your course? i did my research on google but i think it cannot compare to someone with the actual experience™ ++ i'm just a curious cat and want to enable your rambles hehe <3 /lh

THE PUN, HELP. i agree, the fontaine quest deffo made some waves when it ended. OH I SEE!!! at first glance, i thought i could find a similarity between albedo and lyney (finding vi's type: a reality show jkjk we all already know it's albedo /hj) but the longer i looked, the more i questioned myself 😭 i do think that both of them are deeper than what people credit them for tho! albedo with his knowledge of khemia.... and lyney with his burdens as the next 'father'..... ooOOooO. some emphasis for now on lyney bcs of the 4.6 trailer that just dropped! DID YOU SEE IT YET VI 👁️ (but dw, i understand if you had no time / busy with college!) { the comment abt picking your bf's brain LMAO would he let you?? oh, truly, love is blind 🤭 /lh }

always happy to provide you with hcs!!! my brain buzzes with possibilities all the time && one of the things i love most abt selfships is analyzing how different personalities come together to form habits / idiosyncrasies / love languages of their own. like how albedo conjures up an artificial flower bcs he is simply reminded of his sweet violet — that is special and unique to you in a way. it's vv beautiful, i think!!

AND HSHDHWHSH. THE HCS??? vi, i cannot convey how much i appreciate you. i haven't indulged in my selfships for some time since i didn't have time to be active - so this made me SOSOSO happy aaaaaa!!! but wanderer definitely has left some flowers for me before bcs who else? i suggested the possibility of another suitor and he knocked me on the head (softly) YOWCHHH but hey, at least he admitted it was him! :3c and 'yato.... aghhhhh this man. he leaves a hairpin out in the open but tells me “not to touch it until he gets home” just so he can put it on me himself. he derives joy from seeing me hold back from snatching that thing up myself. meanie /j

AWWW THAT'S SO CUTE!! you two are the apt presentation of “opposites attract”. and i'm glad! i only have average experience with relationships but i think everyone agrees that a relationship isn't sunshine and rainbows all the time. that's as natural as our having good days and bad days in a week. i think what matters is how you both deal with them - and i believe in you & your bf! you're a good egg and ik your bf is too, so do what you both know is best <3 (forgive me if i sound like a grandma here /j BUT hooray to vi and irl albedo! my new fav couple yesyesyes)

[hyuk4sbf]

any sanghak thoughts 🫣

writing this as a poly!sanghak x reader

they’d be so obsessed w doting on u just as they do w each other, sangyeon a little giddy and bashful abt it, juhak so teasing and cooing at u all the time just to make u all giggly and hear u tell him jokingly to shut up in ur flustered state

haknyeon who kisses u with so much care and love like u’ll break if he’s not gentle, sangyeon who’s a little more demanding. haknyeon who pouts when u kiss the older for longer than either of u kissed him first.

sangyeon would be like the perfect little househusband, while haknyeon gives off the vibe that he’d be the typical boyish college bf, both just as perfect to u as they are to each other w so much to love abt them!!!!!

taking care of one another, running baths after a long day for each other even when u know u wont all fit, the sweat of waking up w two snoring boys crowded in ur space, hands always on ur waist and forcing u to dance w them while u all squeeze into the kitchen to make dinner

it’d be a bit of work!! but relationships are + they love u so dearly that they’d go to the ends of the earth to keep u happy

this turned out fluffier than intended .. anyway <3

[shurisneakers-side]

hey gorgeous ;) (this fic has consumed me since i read it)

She’s reciting the events of a date she went on yesterday or the day before, although admittedly, you’d only caught detached words for the past double-digit minutes.

LISTEN. If it's study time and ur around to study but are instead TALKING i will probably lose my mind. i will listen and be nice but INTERNALLY. fumes

The words don’t last too long in your mind, too cluttered with equations and vocabulary to make space for them.

reader has things to do!!! grades to achieve!! leave!!

“The girls told me he goes on a lot of dates but I can just tell I’m the one.”

nvm she's me as fuck she can stay

You nod. “Wow.”

pls the disinterest

Probably. You duck your chin, highlighting a sentence. “Isn’t it a group effort?”

humbling him even when he's not around. angie said this is MY 2000s romcom with uninterested girl and loverboy and i was SEATED

Gotta be there early to support Bucky,”

my clown ass for 8 years

“Does it matter? Honestly?” you rebut, taking care to watch your surroundings as you bully your friend. “Your quarterback wouldn’t cheat on you so I’m assuming it’s one that’s not Thor.”

BOYFRIENDS????? HELLOOOOOOOO???????

“Really good.” The golden thread of happiness threaded through Bruce’s words comes through clear and clean. You can imagine him as he talks into the phone, glancing at Thor to make sure he can’t hear as he plays with his fingers. “I’m really sorry for leaving you there.”

IM GIGGLING STOP THIS

“Wait, I have to go too? Why?” you whine.

support ur bestie's loser bf come on now !

“Yeah, you’re going,” Bruce declares. “They’re not that bad and you know it. Besides, Thor wants you to braid his hair. You know my fingers always get tangled.”

braid his hair 😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Thor bellows your name excitedly when he spots you both, heading over. You glance up to give him a smile, quickly continuing to type the stray thoughts you’d been trying to catch when he turns, an extravagant arm extending as if to present you to the few guys with him. “This is the lovely lady I told you all about. She is very smart.”

need him

“Oh.” Bucky blinks blankly, tongue poking into his cheek before he clears his throat and manages a lift of the left edge of his lips. “‘Makes sense someone so pretty would have good taste.”

MF DIDNT WASTE A SECOND LMAOOOOO

“It was amazing, I couldn’t let it slip by!”

shes cool and smart and supports local artists. literal icon

“What’re you talkin’ about, punk? What line?” Steve snickers. “Any of ‘em.”

GET HIS ASS STEVE. CORNY LOSER (endearing)

She catches Bucky’s actions and sends him an amused look.

he's so lovesick and everyone can see it

He winces, forcing himself to not glance back at you. “You’re a really great girl, Quinn, but I don’t think we’d work out. I’m sorry.”

at least he was kind about it

“Oh, you know,” Bucky starts with a nonchalant shrug, “of the ‘insane stamina’ and ‘could totally carry a bus’variety. You know, the ‘Winter Soldier’ name.”

i need to bully him. i need to do this or i'll die

“Bucky Barnes, right?” you ask him. He pushes his tongue against his cheek at the blow to his ego and nods. “Which one were you again? All the uniforms are the same, I can only recognize Thor and Piet.”

THANK U. ANGEL. PUT HIM IN HIS PLACE UR THE COOL ONE HERE

He chokes as he mimes nursing his wound. “Just digging it in deeper, aren’t you? Vixen.”

so ashamed to say this would definitly work on me angie u cannot make him charming and goofy coded

“Oh, you’re seventeen! The ball hogger! You do realize you’re in a team, right?” “Oh.” You think. “Then no.” “Oh, my bad,” you deadpan, placing a hand on your chest and rocking on your heels. You flutter your lashes at him and melt your lips into a watery smile. “Oh my, golly! Benson’s sweaty jersey!”

KJHGKJDFNGDKFJGNDFKJGH OH MY GOLLY BENSONS WEKJHDGKJDFHGDF;G;FKGVGJVSDGR

“Bucky,” Bucky grumbles. “Bucky’s sweaty jersey.”

HE DIDNT EVEN CORRECT THE SWEATY PART

“Bunny,” you greet, ducking your chin in a nod. Bucky gets out of the car, extending a hand to invite you inside.

this is so funnny like it was so casual kjfhgdkfj

“Did you get some sleep?” Bruce wonders, eyeing you at a red light. “Yeah, I drank some coffee,” you respond.

ma'am--

“It's no problem,” Bucky assures, wanting to keep examining the lines of your face, but you clear your throat, looking forward, and Bucky has no choice but to do so too.

he's so down bad after she insults him every sentence and calls him names. this is so real

Vision—who Bucky has heard is never wrong—sure seems wrong in whatever argument he’s just lost against you, and you know it.

i need to beat him in an argument. i don't care if im wrong i just need him to accept defeat

“Are you asking me to swing dance with you?” Bucky retorts.

HOW IS HE READY TO DANCE??? LIKE HE JUST KNOWS THIS???as someone who cant dance to save her life this is unfathomable to me

“First of all,” Bucky starts, beginning to list off his fingers. “We met two weeks and three days ago.”

put this man out of his misery look how absolutely clingy he is

“Maybe I wanted to switch things up,” Bucky defends. “And I’m not studying coaching. I’m studying biomedical engineering.”

funny how all of a sudden i'm super into him

“Yeah, what’s that about, by the wayt?” you wonder, setting your elbows on the table and dropping your face into your hands, cocking your head at him. “From what I’ve seen, you have your fair pick of girls and guys.”

AY YOOOOO BI BUCKY REP

“But I see it now. The charm. I’m not falling for it, but I see it.” You nod appreciatively and open your book once again to continue reading.

she may not be but i am a loser so i most definitely am !

“You are insufferable.” “And you’re beautiful.” “And you’re ridiculous.” “Go out with me, c’mon,” Bucky urges, smiling now. It’s stupidly sweet. You click your tongue. “Dates are a waste of time.” “I’ll make it worth it. Promise.” “I don’t have time to go out with guys I’ve talked to four times,” you explain.

this is so. 2000s coded. like i can see this playing out i cn HEAR them. i need this injected into my blood

“I will talk to you every single day from now on,” Bucky vows.

me when i get all steps wrong but end up at the right solution

James Buchanan Barnes. It rolls off your tongue too nicely all of a sudden.

HOOHOHOHOHOHOOHOHOHOHOH

but fr it really is a nice name. i just cannot understand why his mother would name him after the president (james buchanan was a president right???) but it works

asking you how Linda the librarian was and if she liked the cookie he got her three days ago.

You relay her enthusiastic message, deciding to brush over the wink and coy smile she sent you at his mention.

he's got librarians simping for him please 😭😭 tbf if someone gave me a cookie i'd give them access to my body too

Fingers wrap around your arm and you shriek, books slipping from your arms when they wane. Stumbling back, you tug yourself away from the intrusion, breaths coming out in big, wet gasps when you turn. Bucky’s wide blue eyes meet your glossy ones, hands up in surrender when he catches the tremble of your bottom lip.

BITCH WY WOULDNT U SAY HER NAME WHY SURPRISE HER ON THE ROAD IN THE DARK

“I'm just relieved it’s you,” you interrupt, fingers fisting his shirt. You’re far away, stuck in a memory very far away, and yet it feels enough like you’re standing in it. Your grip is a vice, forcing him closer still until the pads of your fingers can feel the warmth of his skin beneath his shirt. 

oh. she has a history there. is that why bruce is so hellbent on checking up on her

You look down at your lap, the left edge of your lips pulling into your cheek. “I was alone. It was easy.” What’s left to say seems painful for you to push out. “He didn’t like me very much.”

:(

You accept it as you mimic the sweet curve of his lips. “Ah, yes, and that’s how Barnacle gets ‘em. Being charming and funny and sweet—”

her fully confessing she thinks hes sweet and charming and funny

What’re you doing?” “You have to invite me in,” he explains. “What, like a vampire?” He blinks. “Yeah, like a vampire.” You grin toothily. “Vucky…” It drips in an exaggerated accent.

pls i laughed out loud at this

shes so guarded and walls-up and he's out there heart on his sleeve and ready to propose. otp

It’s startling the first time you miss Bucky's ever-constant presence.

no wait this is so real bc the first time i realised i missed a boy i imedatiely went 'what the fuck'

I really wanted Atlantis to be real when I was little,”

i still do hello. i completely believe it is real this is my flat earth thery sorry

“I like space,” Bucky offers. “It's endless.”

ocean girl x space boy........

Bucky turns to dig around in his bag, pulling out something small and bronze and shiny with a brilliant smile. ”I went to this little souvenir shop the other day and found one of those machines.” He extends it to you and flips it slowly between his index and middle. “It has a little fuzzy monster thing on it. I don’t get it, to be honest.”

FINE i will marry you

“Of course. I have been for months,” Bucky points out with a shrug.

MONTHSSSS??????? AND SHE DIDNT REALISE????? HES ROUTINE HES SET IN HER DAY NOW

“Weeks could definitely be months,” Bucky reasons.  You ignore him, stopping in your tracks. “Why?” A frown tugs at his lips as he pauses as well. “Because weeks add up to months?”

ksjhfdkjghkjghrkjhgrkjtg

“Right. Um, thanks again.” You take your things from him before he can think twice about it, speed walking to your door.

shes so emotionally repressed i want to shake her like a can of pringles

You’re being nice to him. Sticky nice. Not you-nice.

the fuck

You’d scoffed, blinked fast, and swatted him away. But you didn’t say no.

HMMMMMMMMMMMMM.

nectar, sticky in his throat.

i noticed a lot of sweetness imagery in this, angie. like honey, nectar and all. it really does paint a scene-- very warm and soft

“It’s just a meal.” He squints at you. “You never pass up a chance of food on me.” He presses the back of his palm against your forehead and leans in closer. “Are you feeling okay?”

SHES PANICKING GIRL SHE DOESNT KNOW HOW TO DEAL

You furrow your brows at him when you pop the lid off, barely realizing you’d never told him what to get. “You got me cavatappi pasta,” you realize. You look upset.

im grinning im crying screaming throwing up

“I have to go.” “What? We just got here.” “I have an appointment.” “For what?”

GIRL STAY THERE AND KISS HIM WHAT. WHAT IS THIS. SHARE THE COOKIE

“You hate cookies and pasta. You think they’re awful,” Bruce tries.

hes so cute im crying

ok i had to google what shape cavatappi is and I'm OBSESSED

“I didn't say anything.”

SAY IT BE THE FRIEND SHE NEEDS CALL HER OUT !!

Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, you glance at your work again and then at the clock, taking a quick breath before you force yourself to write a quick conclusion you promise yourself you’ll revise when you get home.

LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He says your name in surprise, shaking you gently as if to check that you’re real.

DO U WANT ME TO CRY BE HONEST

Bucky steps back, eyebrows furrowed as he notices what you’re holding. “Are those orange slices?”

wait thats so cute shut up aw

“Yeah. You told me about that and I thought maybe you’d like them.”

the mortifying ordeal of being known........

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, hand drifting down to pull yours along. His skin is sticky and sweet against yours, orange juice smearing on your palm, but you can’t find it in you to care.

if i dont find some athlete who will hold my hands stained with orange juice. so help me god

Something like dumb, chest-puffed stubbornness tugs incessantly at you when you contemplate calling Bruce to come pick you up, a biting voice snapping pathetic for even thinking about it convincing you to shut the door behind you, locking away the choice of warmth and safety and shame.

call him girl omg get back into the building

When you blink, there’s the ghost of an unforgiving hand on the back of your neck, the sharp slam of your jaw against brick. You gasp when you open your eyes again, a hand flying to the aching skin of your neck as you spin.

i hope she finds a way to heal from this. i cant imagine how scarring this was

“Okay. For you and Bruce or just you?”

the way he knows where it is ltrly based on her preferences is so

If he were a little less in love, maybe he would; but he’s not, and the relief that you’re solid and no longer a tenuous voice on his phone is too much a relief.

ok this is a very serious scene but i read this and my heart went dfkjhgfkjhgkfjhgfkjhg this is reminding me of the 'if i loved you less, i may have been able to talk about it more'

You can’t help the way your eyes track down his arm. It’s scarred with angry raised lines, ending at his fingertips and disappearing into his shirt sleeve. 

kill me why dont u huh angie not them being vulnerable and open

Your fingers are wound tightly around Wanda’s arm, the nails digging into her sweater giving away what your face is trying to hide. You’re zeroed in on Bucky's figure as he runs across green after blurry white.

THE EVOLUTION OF HER NOT EVEN COMING TO GAMES TO BEING SO INVESTED IN THIS DUMBFUCK

You’re not worried.

oh bc i would be losing my mind rn

a mere play he put on for the free kick.

this is reminding me of that jamie tartt GIVE ME THE BALL PLEASE I WANT THE BALL

Except he hasn’t moved in a little while too long and you don’t think it’s ever taken him this long to fake it. Although, maybe it feels longer because you can’t take your eyes off his figure.

her unwavering confidence in this fellow and his antics. she sees right through him

“It’s fake,” you assure, fingers digging round shadows into your temples. “He’s doing his hero face, he’s completely fine.” It comes out more relieved than you thought it would.

SHE RECOGNISES HIS HERO FACE DKFJGHFJGH. THE FACT THAT HE EVEN HAS ONE HE'S SOOO LAME i need him

Unable to help yourself, you throw your arms around his neck, the prickling disappearing the moment you touch him. He is hot and solid in your arms, but most importantly completely fine.

imgiggling im crying im going through a lot rn no one talk to me

“What, did I scare you?” Bucky teases, smirk dropping when your deadpan doesn’t glitter with playfulness. “Doll?” “You took your sweet time getting back up,” you continue, ignoring his words. “You’ve never taken that long.” You’re alone in the hall now, eyes frenetic over his figure. His cheeks apple at your statement, amusement twinkling back in his eyes. “Of course. My girl knows I can't get hurt.”

THIS IS MAKING ME SHORTCIRCUIT

Bucky cringes. “You don’t really flirt back. I just want to make sure it’s not because I make you uncomfortable.”

girl she would have made it very clear i dont think she would have taken it if she didnt like it to some degree

“You think love isn’t worth it? That it’s a distraction?”

shes so me from 2018 i am actually reeling. it was actually on this very webbed site that my beloved mutual told me. "you can study and have a boyfriend. like, you can do both, you know that right?" and it rewired my brain chemistry

“But what if it is?”

sound logic soccer boy let's kiss

You want a moment to ponder it, because you know the right answer but you aren’t sure if you want to pick it. “Give what a chance?” you play dumb, but he doesn’t buy it.

SHES GOING TO DRAG IT OUT OF HIM OR DIE AVOIDING.

It would feel plain ignorant to do so—to not focus completely on the stitched pride in the dips of your smile or the warmth of your palms as they splay flat on his arm.

theyre so boyfrengirlfren coded wdym they arent DATING ET

Carol grins. “Yeah. Kind of hard not to when you describe it so thoroughly.”

YES SHES GETTING BULLIED FOR BEING PATHETICALLY IN LOVE TOO. I AM OBSESSED

“Best friend, huh? Bruce gonna be jealous?”

the annoyances to friends to lovers pipeline is soooo.........i am chewing glass i need them to touch mouth

“Impossible,” Bucky corrects completely unsubtly, but it’s soft, blurred by yellow light from above and buzz from you.

stab me why dont u

He clicks open the car. “And this’ll force ‘em to call an uber. Worst comes to worst, I’ll drop by later to force them home. I just want to get you home first. No drunk footballers to puke on your feet.”

kjfngjkfnhjkgfnhkfjgnhfkjn protective bucky being protective over his friends and saying he'll come back later like it's no big deal like WHY R U SO NICE

“I had to be able to drive you back.” He shrugs, cocking his head in the direction of the open car door.

i will climb you in this car james

His skin flips green.

angie im dumb as bricks i fully thought. "hulk??"

or do laundry or taxes or—anything as long as it’s with you.”

INVOKING EEAAO OHHHH YOU ARE SO EVIL FOR THIS ANGIE. I AM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH

Maybe you just can’t help yourself anymore. You kiss him.

FUCKING !!!!! YES!!!! FUINALLY LETS FUCINGG GO!!!!

“‘Had to make sure,” he mumbles against your lips. “This can’t happen when you aren’t you.”

OK CONSENT KING !

“I'll go out with you.”

i can now die happily

also!! your prose was so alight and quick, but there was also so much care that was put into it. like a painting. do you get me. a painting with honey.

tldr; angie marry me we can write a romcom together and i will make u so happy i promise

Flirting and Football- B. Barnes

Pairings: bucky barnes x reader Warnings: past assault of reader, as slow burn as i can, au so bucky is different although i tried to not make him so ooc, sort of enemies to lovers?, genuinely can’t remember anymore, crappy writing in the beginning because i started writing this a year ago but i swear it gets better i promise About: request!! Bucky barnes and a college au where reader is the only one who isn’t interested in him basically

The end of your pen rests between your lips, unused as you scan the textbook page in front of you, your eyes thinning occasionally as you read. Your study partner’s book lays open in front of her, ten pages behind, and notebook adorned with two sole words.

She’s reciting the events of a date she went on yesterday or the day before, although admittedly, you’d only caught detached words for the past double-digit minutes. Your careful attention had dwindled down to nods as you subtly tapped at your notebook, then not-so-subtly and finally disappeared altogether as you made miscellaneous noises. 

You hum along now, eyes flickering from your notes to the material as you annotate pages with bright sticky notes.

She doesn’t seem to notice your disinterest, gushing about arms and hair, and the kiss that changed her life. The words don’t last too long in your mind, too cluttered with equations and vocabulary to make space for them.

“The girls told me he goes on a lot of dates but I can just tell I’m the one.”

You glance at your open computer, frowning at the slimming battery life, and purse your lips at the time. Sighing softly, you meet Quinn’s glazed eyes, offering her a tight smile you hope is somewhat believable.

“Is he in psychology too?” you ask, tapping on the notes the both of you were supposed to start when she began talking.

“Bucky? Oh no,” she laughs, the finger twirling her red hair pulling away to wave her hand dismissively. “He’s in sports or something. He's on the soccer team, you know.”

You nod. “Wow.”

“I know, oh my god.” She fans herself. “Did I tell you he basically won the last game?”

Probably. You duck your chin, highlighting a sentence. “Isn’t it a group effort?”

Quinn rolls her eyes. “Well, yeah, but he scored the winning goal.”

“Okay then,” you agree, deciding that you can finish your notes at your dorm. “I didn’t go to the last game, so what do I know?”

Quinn’s eyes go wide. “You didn’t go?” she exclaims, and you shush her, confirming. “Why?”

You shrug. “I had to do something.”

“You have to go to the next one tomorrow and see him in action. But don’t fall in love,” she warns with a giggle. “He’s mine.”

“Promise,” you reply hollowly, shutting your laptop. “Well, I have to go. This was helpful, though,” you lie.

“Oh, yeah, totally. I have to go too, rest up for the big game tomorrow. Gotta be there early to support Bucky,” Quinn informs. You stack your books to carry them back to your dorm.

“Right,” you respond, standing. “I hope everything goes well with him,” you say as you walk out.

She shoots you a big grin and a nod, her face bright as she agrees.

It’s cold when you step through the doors, bouncing on your feet and hugging your things closer to your chest as you begin to walk toward your dorm. You move to pull out your phone from your back pocket, quickly unlocking it to get to your contacts list. You press on Bruce’s contact and listen to the two beeps until he picks up.

“I hate you so much right now,” you greet, cutting his cheery hello off.

“What? What did I do?”

“‘I’ll be there!’ ‘How could I miss studying physics?’” you mock, imitating his voice. “You left me there, and I was stuck listening to Quinn's monologue about how the quarterback or whatever is the love of her life!”

“What quarterback?” Bruce asks.

“Does it matter? Honestly?” you rebut, taking care to watch your surroundings as you bully your friend. “Your quarterback wouldn’t cheat on you so I’m assuming it’s one that’s not Thor.”

“Okay, okay, I know. I’m sorry about ditching you. Thor and I just finished, we can come by and pick you up at the library. And Thor is a defender. Different sport entirely.”

“Whatever and ew,” you complain. “And I’m already on my way. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“What? I told you to not walk home alone. Just wait for me.”

“Don’t worry. The dorm isn’t that far and you’re not exactly the most threatening anyway,” you remind. “I’ll be fine. ”

“Fine. Keep me on the line and be careful,” Bruce tells you.

“Of course,” you quip. A pause drapes over the two of you, the silence only interrupted by the steady sound of your footsteps on the concrete. You turn, leaves crunching underneath your shoes and you can practically hear Bruce relax somewhat, knowing that you’re nearby. You put him on speaker to hear better. “How’d it go with Thor today?”

“Really good.” The golden thread of happiness threaded through Bruce’s words comes through clear and clean. You can imagine him as he talks into the phone, glancing at Thor to make sure he can’t hear as he plays with his fingers. “I’m really sorry for leaving you there.”

“You’re not,” you amend. “But it’s fine. I’m glad you’re happy.”

“I am,” Bruce confirms.

“I don’t know how you find the time to juggle everything. It’s kind of terrifying,” you laugh, expecting him to tease you back, but his answer comes back honest.

“I know you think of boyfriends and whatever as distractions, but it’s the opposite. It’s not juggling if I have help carrying everything.”

You push your tongue against your cheek, listening to the rustling of the trees. You grab your keys as you arrive at your dorm door. “I’m here.”

“Finally.” You roll your eyes, opening the door to see your roommate and her brother inside.

“Hey Wanda, Piet.”

Wanda smiles at you and Pietro winks before greeting Bruce through your phone.

“Okay, Bruce, are we studying tomorrow?” you ask him, balancing your things in your arms. When Pietro notices, he stands, taking your books from you and setting them down on your table. You thank him and pat his arm.

“Before the game? Sure,” he replies. You take him off speaker, pulling your phone to your ear, not noticing that the mention of the game has caught Pietro and Wanda's attention.

“You’re going?” you question. “I thought Thor was benched.”

“He’s off!” There’s a whoop you recognize as Thor’s that makes you smile. “Which is why it’s an important game we need to go to.”

“We?” you echo.

“We as in you and I,” Bruce verifies.

“Wait, I have to go too? Why?” you whine.

Pietro cuts in, “You have to go! How will we win without our lucky charm?”

You purse your lips and squint at him. “Didn’t you guys win last game?”

“Still! Come on, please,” he insists. Wanda joins in, offering to bake you cookies.

You search your brain for excuses. “I have things to do.”

“If it’s not ‘stay home and binge a series,’ I'll let you skip,” Bruce chimes.

You frown as the siblings grin.

“Yeah, you’re going,” Bruce declares. “They’re not that bad and you know it. Besides, Thor wants you to braid his hair. You know my fingers always get tangled.”

“Fine,” you sigh dramatically. “But I want it noted that it’s only because I really like cookies.” You focus on Wanda, who nods enthusiastically. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Bruce repeats your words before you hang up, and at the click, you let yourself fall on your couch.

Wanda kisses your head and pats your shoulder comfortingly. “It’s going to be fun.”

“Standing in the middle of students I don’t know as they yell at a ball does not sound fun to me,” you disagree, but she ignores you.

“Even Vis is going,” she argues. “And you know how excited Thor gets when you braid his hair.”

You mutter incoherently.

“We’ll leave at three,” she instructs with a smile.

-

“I could be doing so many useful things right now,” you hiss at Bruce, remembering the half-written essay you have saved on your laptop, a string of frustratedly typed letters highlighted and waiting to be replaced with something coherent typed just beneath it.

Bruce had made you leave just as you began to taste the word you were looking for, assuring you that going out to see a game would somehow give your fried mind the jolt it needed. With little argument and the promise you’d committed to with a hook of your pinkie, you’d sighed and shut your laptop, leaving your apartment early to see the team before the game.

You could recognize some faces thanks to Pietro forcing you out to a few team celebrations and the occasional game you never paid much attention to. Although he’d laid off a while ago when Bruce and Thor started dating, your best friend had dragged you to every soccer-related event he didn’t want to go to alone. Pietro never minded your absence as much as Bruce did, always satisfied as long as you celebrated or consoled him afterward.

The word you’d been wracking your brain for suddenly comes to mind when you sit next to Bruce on a bench, pulling your phone out of your pocket to note it down, not noticing when the entire soccer team begins to leave the locker room, spilling into the hall where you’re slumped with your best friend.

Thor bellows your name excitedly when he spots you both, heading over. You glance up to give him a smile, quickly continuing to type the stray thoughts you’d been trying to catch when he turns, an extravagant arm extending as if to present you to the few guys with him. “This is the lovely lady I told you all about. She is very smart.”

You laugh at his introduction, tucking your phone back into your pocket. “Thank you, Thor.”

“Of course! And you all know Bruce, of course.”

There are chimes of agreement and greetings for your friend, a few of the players coming up to you. Pietro arrives first, as always, and pecks your forehead. “I, for one, am very glad you came to cheer us on.”

“We’ve heard a lot about you,” another says, huge and blonde, but his features are softened by an open grin. “I’m Steve.” He juts a finger at the brunet next to him, his hair tied up into a neat little bun at the nape of his neck, blue eyes shining as they observe you. “That’s Bucky.”

You smile at them, nodding. “Nice to meet you. I’ve actually heard a lot.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised. “Really?”

You stare at him blankly, opening and closing your mouth like a fish. “I meant Steve.” Steve looks startled. “I saw his work when I was volunteering at the art show last month. It was great, I actually bought the piece with the lilies!”

“Oh.” Bucky blinks blankly, tongue poking into his cheek before he clears his throat and manages a lift of the left edge of his lips. “‘Makes sense someone so pretty would have good taste.”

You stare silently at him for a second, relieved when Steve’s surprise takes a second to process.

“Wait, me?” Steve points stupidly at himself. “My art?”

“It was amazing, I couldn’t let it slip by!”

“I told you,” Bucky tells him, elbowing his arm. He, unlike the other players, wears a dark sleeve over the entirety of his left arm, all the way up to his fingers. His fingertips, jagged pink, peek out. “I wish you woulda let me go. I could’ve seen the art and met her sooner.”

His friend sends him a furtive glance. “Is this your first time coming to a game?” Steve wonders as he turns back to you. 

You shake your head. “Pietro is my roommate’s brother and Thor’s my best friend’s boyfriend. They drag me here when they feel like it, but it’s my first time being back here.” You gesture to the hall. “I’m usually a little late because Bruce drives like a grandmother.”

Bruce sighs, sending you a short glance that you respond to with a gentle nudge of his shoulder.

Blue eyes nods, careful to give you his full attention. “Well, I think you should come around more often.”

You scan him for a second. “Why?” you ask genuinely.

He pauses as he begins to explain, eyes pinched in confusion before Thor’s booming voice cuts him off, reminding you that you need to braid his hair. You give them a final smile before standing. “Duty calls, I guess.”

“So you’ll come around?” He calls after you, frowning when you respond with a transparent smile and ingenuine thumbs up. “Huh,” he says.

“What?” Steve responds, a little slowly, knowingly. He knows well what is making Bucky’s features crease in that way, but he’d prefer hearing it from his friend’s mouth.

“Just… wondering why I’d never seen her before. Pretty.”

“Uh huh.” Steve nods disbelievingly. Knowing he isn’t going to be able to push it out of his friend, he begins to walk toward the field, not waiting up for Bucky, the man caught up in his thoughts. “‘Thought it was because the line didn’t work,” he finally tells him, catching Bucky’s attention.

“What’re you talkin’ about, punk? What line?”

Steve snickers. “Any of ‘em.”

-

The next time Bucky sees you is across the courtyard, arms wrapped around books, your fingers curved protectively around the edges of your laptop. You struggle as you talk to someone he recognizes, bouncing lightly on the balls of your feet as you reach to brush strands of hair away from your eyes.

Why you don’t have a backpack like every other person is beyond him, but it’s the last thing on his mind when your eyes meet his and you smile and wave. Yeah, he knows how to handle this—the attention, the blushing, the flattery.

The hand he raises to wave back freezes awkwardly when he realizes your attention isn’t on him, but rather following something behind his shoulder. His hand lowers as he feels Pietro brush past him and over to you, Wanda following close by. She catches Bucky’s actions and sends him an amused look.

You accept the kiss Pietro drops on your forehead and greet Wanda excitedly, too busy chatting with her to notice the two pens that slip from your pile.

Bucky sniffs, tugging his varsity jacket tighter and deciding to embrace his mistake, walks over to you.

“Hey,” he greets, your name coming out like silk, shooting you a smile. He bends down to pick up your pens, handing them to you with a cajoling rise of his lips.

You return it a pause later. “Hey, um—thanks…” you struggle for a second before you’re cut off.

“Bucky!” the classmate that you were talking to exclaims, and Bucky realizes it’s Quinn, the girl he’d gone out on a date with a while ago. “I saw you on the field yesterday,” she tells him, twirling a strand of red hair around her finger. “You were amazing.”

“I appreciate it,” he thanks her, his eyes flickering back to you for a second, spotting you beginning to step away with a short wave and an elbow to Wanda's side. “I should go, I needed to talk to her,” he starts, acting quickly. “But it was nice to see you again. You look great, I like your necklace.”

Quinn’s fingers reach to pinch at the pendant on her chain, tilting her head at Bucky as she beams. “Thank you!”

Bucky nods, turning to find you gone. He looks around, surprised, but finally catches sight of you turning a corner with your friends. Before he can head toward you, Quinn catches his arm.

“Aren’t you going to ask me out again?” She smiles at him, eyes wide and shiny.

He winces, forcing himself to not glance back at you. “You’re a really great girl, Quinn, but I don’t think we’d work out. I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” Quinn says quietly, not returning the apologetic smile he sends her. He twists his lips and apologizes again before jogging over to you, slowing to match your pace when he finally catches up.

“Hey again,” he quips, offering you a smile. You return it kindly, twirling your pens between your fingers.

“Hey, Bucky.” Probably accidentally, you enunciate his name in a way that makes him realize you didn’t remember it when he came up to you earlier, and he bites back an embarrassed blush. “It was a good game yesterday.”

“Thank you,” he replies easily. “How was I?”

You cock your head at him. “Fine? You… were a soccer player.”

Pietro laughs, pulling you closer. “He’s asking if he lived up to the stories,” he clarifies, shooting Bucky a look. “‘Does another pretty girl think I’m great too?’” he mocks, the imitation edged in his accent.

You hum in understanding, turning back to Bucky. “Stories?” you echo. Your features bear no likeness to the pull Bucky is used to with girls, nothing implying the agreement or validation he’s usually welcomed with.

“Oh, you know,” Bucky starts with a nonchalant shrug, “of the ‘insane stamina’ and ‘could totally carry a bus’ variety. You know, the ‘Winter Soldier’ name.”

Your eyebrows raise. “‘Winter Soldier?’” you repeat, words bolded in an unconscious drama.

“’S my nickname,” Bucky explains sheepishly. You continue to stare at him for a second before cracking a smile.

“Bucky Barnes, right?” you ask him. He pushes his tongue against his cheek at the blow to his ego and nods. “Which one were you again? All the uniforms are the same, I can only recognize Thor and Piet.”

Pietro hoots. “Fifteen, baby!”

Bucky eyes you, his cheeks pulling with an amused lilt. “You wound me, doll.”

“I wound you?” you giggle, unable to help it. “This is our first conversation and I have the power to wound you. I don’t know how I feel about having this power over a stranger.”

Bucky gasps, reaching out to grab your hand with his ungloved hand and wrap it around an invisible knife to plunge it into his chest. He chokes as he mimes nursing his wound. “Just digging it in deeper, aren’t you? Vixen.”

“Oh, come on, you expect me to have learned your number after knowing you for five minutes?” you exclaim with mild indignance, a whisper of amusement betraying it. You click your tongue. “You were fine, I’m sure,” you respond finally. Wanda jabs an elbow into your arm and whispers something to you. Your eyes light up. “Oh, you’re seventeen! The ball hogger! You do realize you’re in a team, right?”

Pietro claps, nodding approvingly at you. “And me, little flower?”

You roll your eyes. “You were fast. Like always.”

“That’s code for ‘the best out there,’” Pietro tells Bucky.

“I think the code for that is Bucky Barnes,” Bucky retorts, turning back to you. “‘Got a favorite player yet?” He asks you.

You tilt a brow at him. “On the soccer team?”

“Yeah,” Bucky confirms.

“Based off of what?” You counter.

“Anything.”

“Oh.” You think. “Then no.”

Pietro clears his throat loudly.

“What if I get you the best seat possible next game?” Bucky offers.

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m good where I am.”

“She barely pays attention anyway,” Wanda informs. “All she does is complain.”

You nod. “And I can do that in any seat.”

“Alright… what if you wear my jersey at the next game?” Bucky continues.

You raise an eyebrow. “And you’re convincing me, right?”

“You should be swooning right now,” Bucky argues accusingly, but his words are tinged with a grin.

“Oh, my bad,” you deadpan, placing a hand on your chest and rocking on your heels. You flutter your lashes at him and melt your lips into a watery smile. “Oh my, golly! Benson’s sweaty jersey!”

“Bucky,” Bucky grumbles. “Bucky’s sweaty jersey.”

“Right,” you reply with an attentive nod, laughing quietly. Your attention is drawn by another building and you turn. “I gotta go, but please keep the jersey far away from me.” You point at Bucky and then wave at Wanda and Pietro. “I’ll see you guys around.”

“Me too!” Bucky shouts after you. You only reply with a thumbs up Bucky can tell is sarcastic even if he can’t see your face, slipping past a closing door. Bucky purses his lips, looking after you. “Huh.”

A hand slaps down on his shoulder, and Pietro's laughter bubbles from behind him. “Nice work,” he lies.

-

Entirely suddenly, your mind feels vignetted with inky stress. You suppose it was predictable, having ignored the weight your responsibilities had lain on your shoulders for as long as you had, but it’s exhausting nonetheless. You blink slowly at your document in a lousy attempt to soothe yourself, feeling as though you were staring at it through a tunnel.

You yawn as you splay yourself out on your bed, stretching your legs out as far as you can. Your fingertips brush your pillows as you let your eyelids fall closed for just a second, thoughts and reminders of the rest of the things you need to do lining your entrance to sleep, but the door is so inviting, the red tape of your to-do list blurring.

Your ringtone cuts in when you begin to reason with yourself, back straightening fast enough to give you whiplash when you open your eyes again. Your hand slams around your phone, blinking fast as you read Bruce’s contact name.

“The thing,” you mumble, remembering Bruce’s insistence that you went to something. You answer his call and fight to not let yourself fall back on your bed, free fingers moving to rub at your temple.

“Hey, are you ready?” Bruce asks, the sounds of conversation in the background.

“Sure,” you answer tiredly, looking down at yourself. Whoever it is you’re going out with can’t be too picky. “Ready for what again?”

“The team’s win? We’re going out to eat at an actual restaurant and everything.”

You purse your lips. “Are we going to a bar?”

There’s a moment of silence on his end, only highlighted by the muffled voices that converse. “...No.”

Nodding earnestly, you stand, stretching and shaking your limbs out in an attempt to wake yourself up, but the attempt is mocked when you yawn once again. You catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror and wince, tilting your chin up to get another angle. “Then, yes, I’m ready. I guess.”

“That's great!” Bruce praises. “Because we are outside.”

You frown, grabbing a hair tie from your dresser before walking out of your room, surprised to see your apartment empty. “We?” you repeat as you look around, confused. “Are Wan and Pietro with you?”

“They’re probably already there. And ‘we’ as in I picked up Thor, Steve, and Bucky.”

You grunt in response, shutting off the lights and plucking your keys from the counter before locking up.

“You know Bucky. He’s not that bad.”

There are sounds of protest and you catch an offended ‘that bad?’ before you hang up, waving to Bruce’s car. The door to the back opens before you can touch the handle, a grinning face and shiny blue eyes welcoming you. “Hey, doll, you look great.”

“Bunny,” you greet, ducking your chin in a nod. Bucky gets out of the car, extending a hand to invite you inside.

“I don’t mind that one.” Bucky winks.

You shake your head, crawling inside and saying hi to Steve, nose wrinkling when you realize you’ll be sandwiched between the two guys, and turning when you notice Bucky getting in again. You tug on your seatbelt with a polite smile to Steve, bumping into hard muscle when you aim for the buckle.

“You tryna cop a feel? Could’ve just asked,” Bucky tells you, bumping you gently.

“Oh please,” you scoff, poking him with the metal thing. “Excuse me, seatbelt. Bruce isn’t that great of a driver. He’s in his twenties and gets night blindness.”

Bucky pats your hand gently and takes the belt from you, clicking it into place for you.

“Nice and safe, don’t worry, doll.”

You set your lips into a thin line and look straight ahead, pushing your phone into the space between your thighs so you don’t lose it. “How’d you do on your Norse mythology exam, Thor?” you ask, recalling the nerves with which he’d told you about it a couple of days ago.

“Wonderful! I really enjoy the subject. Thank you for helping me study,” Thor replies cheerily.

“You didn’t even need to,” you assure, stifling a yawn. Bucky frowns.

“Did you get some sleep?” Bruce wonders, eyeing you at a red light.

“Yeah, I drank some coffee,” you respond.

“Not the same thing. Not even close.”

You laugh. “I’ll be fine,” you promise. “Stop worrying.”

“I’m always worried,” Bruce grumbles.

“Hey, how was art today?” you ask Steve, nudging his arm gently. Bucky’s brows furrow, urging Steve to look at him and read his mind with an intense stare. Steve does not.

“You were right. I was being too judgemental,” Steve sighs. “I should’ve listened to you.”

“Listened to who?” Bucky buts in. “How did you know Stevie had art today?” he continues, trying to keep his tone light.

“We talk.” You shrug. 

“Oh,” Bucky starts, glaring at Steve. “Do you?”

“Yes.” You nod before actually yawning that time. “I’m sorry.”

“You should sleep more,” Bucky comments, watching you shake your head wearily.

“I have things to do,” you defend. “I sleep enough, it’s the stupid car ride, I always fall asleep in cars,” you defend. “But if it pleases you, I’ll sleep the entirety of tomorrow.” Your voice lacks the thick sleeve of satire you tend to use with him, more vulnerable in your exhaustion. Although your request is still sarcastic, Bucky can tell you know you need it.

“It will,” Bucky says.

For the most part, the conversation ends there, the group splitting into their own things during the car ride. After a few minutes, Bucky feels your head fall softly on his shoulder.

He stops paying attention to what Thor is saying, instead focusing on the way you edge toward him in your sleep, nudging your nose into his shoulder. He can see the way your lashes lay on your cheeks when you’re so close and the pretty bridge of your nose.

You’re more open than he’s ever seen you, eyes shut and lips parted with gentle breaths, and he can’t stop staring at you.

Then the car goes over a harsh bump, and Bucky wants to do everything he can to hold you still, but your eyes flutter open and you sit up, meeting his eyes for a second. “Sorry.”

“It's no problem,” Bucky assures, wanting to keep examining the lines of your face, but you clear your throat, looking forward, and Bucky has no choice but to do so too.

-

The surprise Bucky feels when he spots you at the celebration party is no match for the sweet excitement at the bottom of his stomach, immediately pulling his sleeve further down over his arm and brushing away loose strands of his hair. It would be embarrassing how much he cares about what you think of him if it weren’t so ridiculously important to him.

He busies himself with getting a drink for you, finding himself wondering if you’d come before, only to go unnoticed by him. There’s a startling burst of anger at himself with the thought, and Bucky blinks, eyes continuing to drift to you. Resolute, he moves toward you but pauses as he observes you.

The look on your face is one Bucky has never seen before—though he hasn’t seen many looks on your face before—but it settles so naturally on your features that it is difficult to argue that it’s unfamiliar. You look intense, but the way your eyes scan Wanda's boyfriend—who’s been dubbed Vision—is dangerous. Cocky.

You say something and your entire face relaxes resolutely, but your eyes remain expectant and arrogant, unamused with your companion’s reply.

Vision—who Bucky has heard is never wrong—sure seems wrong in whatever argument he’s just lost against you, and you know it.

“How’re my favorite geniuses?” Wanda pipes up suddenly, forcing Bucky’s daze away, appearing from an unknown place to sling an arm around you. You snap out of the look, your face softening, but the pleasure of being right dances across your features. Bucky clears his throat and takes a sip from his beer, stepping toward you.

“Oh, you know, out-geniusing the other,” you reply, glancing at Bucky as he walks up behind Vision.

“Hey Dolly,” he smiles. “I thought you had too many books to read to go out.”

“I finished them all,” you respond. “And ‘Dolly’? How old are you?”

Bucky clicks his tongue. “What would you prefer, sweetheart?”

“My name,” you state, then squint at him, cocking your head. “Do you remember it? I imagine it’s hard to keep track.”

“Of course I remember.” Bucky scoffs. “I don’t think I could forget.”

You breathe out a laugh. “Right, I’d imagine asking her out to swing dance without it would be pretty hard.”

“Are you asking me to swing dance with you?” Bucky retorts.

You snort. “Yeah, sure.”

Bucky holds out his hand expectantly, covered arm at his side.

Your eyes thin resolutely at him, scrutinizing the details of his face before you shake your head. “You’re ridiculous,” you criticise.

His hand drops and he pouts. “C’mon, pretty please.”

“Do you know what music you swing dance to?” you ask him, wagging a finger to refer to the booming music drowning most sounds inside the house. “Because this isn’t it.”

“I need to take advantage of the fact that you’re here, doll. You said so yourself you don’t go out much,” he complains. 

“Yeah, this is why!” you reply, your last words getting louder as the music impossibly gains volume.

“What?!” Bucky shouts, moving closer to hear you better, but you laugh and shake your head, telling him something he can’t make out. When you realize he can’t hear you, you give him a pout.

“And I was just about to say yes,” you say sadly.

“Wha—” Bucky’s cut off by the sharp shattering of glass. With a cringe, your eyes widen as you look behind him, eyes flickering back to him expectantly. He turns and groans. “I have to check that out. I’ll be right back!” he pledges, walking away to see a deadly amount of broken alcohol bottles on the floor, the stench of their contents burning his nose.

When he comes back, you’re gone.

The disappointment that blankets over his shoulders at the fact is just as surprising to him.

-

You’re in your bubble at the library, a little clueless to everything going on around you as you thumb the corner of a page, your pinky hovering below your book’s cover. You’re a few pages away from something exciting, teeth digging in with anticipation for it, when someone enters your field of vision, a large figure plopping down on a seat in front of you.

You spare them a glance and are surprised to find Bucky, sporting a large grin and his varsity jacket. You observe him suspiciously for a few moments, having never seen him even near the library, before returning your attention to what you’re reading.

“So, you’re actually here, huh?” he asks, and you shush him, shooting him a look to lower his voice. “Sorry.”

“Why are you here?” you question lowly instead, still not putting down your book.

“Anyone can come to the library.” Bucky points out, your name playfully scornful. You level a look at him.

“Yes. Why are you here? With me? You didn’t know my name until, like, two days ago.” You’re careful to keep your voice down.

“First of all,” Bucky starts, beginning to list off his fingers. “We met two weeks and three days ago.”

“Did we?” you drone, attempting to concentrate on the lines of your book once more.

“And, how do you know we don’t just have alternating study days?” Bucky points out.

“I am here every day,” you inform. “And if that were the case, why would you be here right now?” you rebut. “What would you be studying for? Coaching?”

“Maybe I wanted to switch things up,” Bucky defends. “And I’m not studying coaching. I’m studying biomedical engineering.”

You meet his eyes at the revelation, unable to keep the surprise off your face. You fold down the edge of the last page you read offhandedly and let your book flutter closed. “What? Quinn said you were in… sports.”

“Well,” Bucky sucks in a breath as if what he’s about to tell you is a revelation. “Soccer is a sport.”

“I know,” you affirm blandly. “But are you actually in biomedical?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nods. “What, do you not believe me?” he asks, raising a gloved hand to his chest. “I must say, I’m very disappointed in you perpetuating harmful stereotypes.”

“I’m just surprised. You’ve never talked about it before.”

“We’ve talked four times,” Bucky points out. “Although I want it clear that I have tried to make it more.”

“Yeah, what’s that about, by the wayt?” you wonder, setting your elbows on the table and dropping your face into your hands, cocking your head at him. “From what I’ve seen, you have your fair pick of girls and guys.”

“I wouldn’t say that—”

You laugh quietly. “Sure.”

“But I like you,” Bucky explains, shrugging. “You’re smart and pretty and you interest me.”

You scan his face, squinting. Astonishment tints your chuckle. “You are so much better at this than I thought you were.”

“Sorry?”

“At first, I was like ‘this guy? This is the Becky people won’t shut up about?’”

“Bucky,” he corrects swiftly.

“But I see it now. The charm. I’m not falling for it, but I see it.” You nod appreciatively and open your book once again to continue reading.

Bucky frowns in front of you, reaching over to insert an abrupt hand in between the pages. “What are you talking about?”

Sighing, you peel his fingers off the pages and meet his eyes, startled to see their intensity, crinkles at their edges, his lips pinched in a pout. You gasp. “Oh my god, you’re doing it now.”

“Sweetheart, it’s something that just happens naturally, I’m not doing anything.”

You stare at him for a moment before shaking your head, turning back to your book. “You are insufferable.”

“And you’re beautiful.”

“And you’re ridiculous.”

“Go out with me, c’mon,” Bucky urges, smiling now. It’s stupidly sweet.

You click your tongue. “Dates are a waste of time.”

“I’ll make it worth it. Promise.”

“I don’t have time to go out with guys I’ve talked to four times,” you explain.

“Alright, so if I talk to you more, you’ll go out with me?”

You wrinkle your nose. “I don’t… I’m not liking where this is going.”

“I will talk to you every single day from now on,” Bucky vows.

“Oh, I was right,” you groan. “I just mean you don’t know me. My favorite color, my favorite book, my order at my favorite restaurant, things like that.”

“I will know all of that,” he pledges.

You laugh disbelievingly. “Okay, Borky.”

A cocky little smirk plays on his lips as he winks. “Bucky,” he says archly.

-

You learn his name. Completely. Totally. Unmistakably. 

It’s hard not to, not when he becomes a constant in your life and not with a name like that.

James Buchanan Barnes. It rolls off your tongue too nicely all of a sudden.

He talks to you every day. Just like he said he would, even if it’s a two-minute conversation over text where he makes sure you get home safe and asks about your day. It would be overwhelming if it didn’t make you smile so much.

He doesn’t get upset when you answer two hours later because you were distracted with work, asking you how Linda the librarian was and if she liked the cookie he got her three days ago.

You relay her enthusiastic message, deciding to brush over the wink and coy smile she sent you at his mention. Then maybe, because you’re finished with your work for the day, you shove aside your notebook and bite back a small smile when he tells you how pretty he thought you looked in the glimpses he had of you today.

Organizing your books into a neat little pile, you message him and Bruce that you’re heading home. And you intend to, you really do, but then Bucky insists you call him the next time so he can walk you home, and you’ve suddenly been sitting at your table, uselessly leaning against your things for ten minutes.

You shoot up when you realize, lightly bewildered with yourself, gathering everything into your arms as quickly as possible, and shoving your phone into your back pocket. You hope Bruce isn’t getting too worried as you push open the library doors, hurrying down the steps and onto the path you usually take. You’re alert as always, careful to listen past the crunching of leaves beneath your feet and watch for shadows that edge past yours, digging your keys out of your pocket to hold them in the spaces between your fingers.

It’s three minutes in when you begin to feel unsettled. Your phone has vibrated three times in your back pocket in the past two minutes, but the darker section of your path is coming up, and chills rush up your neck as you imagine what the distraction could cost.

A shadow follows nearby, inching closer and closer until your hands are shaking and you’re on the verge of running.

Fingers wrap around your arm and you shriek, books slipping from your arms when they wane. Stumbling back, you tug yourself away from the intrusion, breaths coming out in big, wet gasps when you turn. Bucky’s wide blue eyes meet your glossy ones, hands up in surrender when he catches the tremble of your bottom lip.

A tear streaks down your cheek in profusing relief that it’s only him, the anger indistinguishable beneath it as you stumble into Bucky on wobbly knees, his name braided in a whimper. His arms settle around you hesitantly, guiltily.

“You scared me,” you whisper. “Don’t you know not to sneak up on people?”

“I'm sorry,” he replies sincerely. “I didn’t think—”

“I'm just relieved it’s you,” you interrupt, fingers fisting his shirt. You’re far away, stuck in a memory very far away, and yet it feels enough like you’re standing in it. Your grip is a vice, forcing him closer still until the pads of your fingers can feel the warmth of his skin beneath his shirt. 

Bucky murmurs your name, a large palm stroking up and down your back in comfort. His voice is mournful. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You snap out of it at the nickname, pulling away from his embrace as if you’d awoken. He doesn’t startle, only stares at the furrow of your brow and the light that reflects off of your cheeks. Swallowing hard, you blink away the rest of your daze, eyes falling on your things scattered on the ground.

“My computer,” you remember, frantically dropping to your knees to search for it.

Bucky doesn’t pry, kneeling next to you to help pick up your books, taking the ones you’d stacked up sloppily into his arms. You carry your laptop with a careful grip, relatively unharmed.

“I should get going,” you tell him, motioning to take your things from him but he refuses, ushering you into his car.

It’s silent for a while after you halfheartedly agree, obviously still embarrassed. Bucky’s hesitant to probe, but the guilt at what he could’ve reminded you of gnaws at his gut.

You can feel his stare each time he glances at you curiously; cautiously, as if you’ll burst into tears spontaneously. 

“I was attacked once.” Your voice is quiet, soft for the obvious teeth the words pierce you with. “Walking home from the library,” you explain. “It’s why Bruce doesn’t like me walking home alone.”

“You… someone…” Bucky pinches his lips into a tense line, fingers tightening around the wheel. “Why?” It’s painfully incredulous.

You look down at your lap, the left edge of your lips pulling into your cheek. “I was alone. It was easy.” What’s left to say seems painful for you to push out. “He didn’t like me very much.”

“I'm sorry,” Bucky offers after a tense second, unsure of what else to say and how angry he can be for you.

“For what? You didn’t have anything to do with it,” you retort, offering him a weak smile in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“For scaring you,” Bucky insists sincerely. “For the fact that it happened in the first place.” You don’t respond, watching as trees and lights flash past the window.

“It really wasn’t as bad as you think. The label makes it seem worse,” you palliate. “He hit me once and pushed me against a wall. A bruise was the worst of it. Both physically and to my bank account.”

Bucky’s frown stays, quiet blanketing the both of you.

“So, why’d you come get me? How’d you know I was only on my way?” you chime suddenly.

“I wanted to check up on you. You weren’t answering your phone.”

You pause, meeting his eyes with an inquisitive pinch to your features. “So you drove to find me?”

“Technically, I just wanted to drop by your apartment to make sure you got home safe, but that sounds better, so let’s go with it.” Bucky shoots you a grin. An olive branch.

You accept it as you mimic the sweet curve of his lips. “Ah, yes, and that’s how Barnacle gets ‘em. Being charming and funny and sweet—”

He lets a light chuckle slip past his lips, sparing you a delicate glance. You’re already looking at him, softer in your gaze than he’s ever seen you.

He hums inquisitively. “You think I'm charming and funny and sweet?”

You laugh openly, shaking your head but not negating his words. You hug your laptop closer to your chest, constellations reflected in your shadowed eyes as you look through the window. “I think—” you inhale in relief. “We’re here.”

Bucky slows to a stop when he reaches your dorm, shutting off the car and stepping out as you pack up. You only notice his actions when your fingers slip past the handle once you move to open your own door, huffing air out of your nose when he smirks wantonly at you.

“Thank you,” you grunt, climbing out and clutching your things.

You walk ahead, listening to the door slam and the subsequent sound of shoes quick against the pavement until he walks steadily beside you. “So, you wanna do that again soon?”

You laugh, motioning to grab your keys. “Do what again?”

He steals the jingling set from your fingers, moving hurriedly to the door when you make a noise hald surprise half indignation. He jams a silver one in, cringing when it doesn’t fit. You glower as you reach him, eyeing his hands as they continue to shove the wrong key in the lock. “It's the bronze one—no, the other one. How do you not—”

The door swings open, a satisfied smile parting Bucky’s face.

“Thanks,” you sigh, taking back your keys as you step inside. He stands outside awkwardly, kicking a pebble around with his foot. You squint doubtfully at him after you’ve set your things down and he’s not following behind you like you thought he would be. “What’re you doing?”

“You have to invite me in,” he explains.

“What, like a vampire?”

He blinks. “Yeah, like a vampire.”

You grin toothily. “Vucky…” It drips in an exaggerated accent.

“It's cold out here,” he reminds.

“Maybe you should go home then,” you suggest.

His face drops for a second and you find yourself feeling a tug of something sickening at your stomach. Like a reflex, the offer leaves your throat before you can help it.

“Or. Come inside.” At his hesitant posture, you suck in a bubble of air. “Do you want to come in? You’re welcome to.” I want you to.

He stares at you long enough for you to squirm before a smile breaks through his face. “Really?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, flimsy regret already churning in your gut. “Yeah. Just come on in already. It’s cold outside, dummy.”

-

It’s startling the first time you miss Bucky's ever-constant presence.

You’d rather not admit it, but it’s hard not to—not when he finds you between classes to carry your books, teasing you about your lack of a backpack but always leaving you with only your laptop and a pen in hand. You can’t help the smiles when he “coincidentally” bumps into you at your favorite coffee shop enough times to have your order ready when you arrive on your tea day.

His goofy jokes while you study at the library get less annoying and, annoyingly, more endearing. You suddenly know a whole lot about biomedical engineering and Bucky. You know his sister’s favorite color and can spout stories about Steve before he grew five times his size like you were there yourself.

It's infuriating, you think, but you don’t mind as much when Bucky's making you laugh with lovely crinkles at the edges of his eyes.

“I like the ocean,” you say sometime at the library, books spread on the table, ignored. He looks up from his notebook in surprise, putting down the pen you’d lent him two weeks ago. “It’s the reason why my favorite color is blue.”

His own blue glitters as he nods, listening. “‘Thought it was because of my eyes.”

You reward him a laugh and a roll of your eyes. “I really wanted Atlantis to be real when I was little,” you tell him. “And mermaids. Even if they were the ugly ones that murder you,” You confess in a rare moment of transparency, meeting his eyes before you clear your throat, bringing your attention back to your laptop.

“I like space,” Bucky offers. “It's endless.”

You nod in acceptance, clearing your throat as if to rid yourself of what you’ve given him.

“You collect those squished pennies, right?” Bucky asks. 

You’re startled that he remembers, and it takes a second for your brain to catch up. “Uh—yeah. Why?” 

Bucky turns to dig around in his bag, pulling out something small and bronze and shiny with a brilliant smile. ”I went to this little souvenir shop the other day and found one of those machines.” He extends it to you and flips it slowly between his index and middle. “It has a little fuzzy monster thing on it. I don’t get it, to be honest.”

It never crossed your mind that he would do that for you. A startling line of electricity runs up your arm when your fingers meet his, quick to take the penny from him. “Thank you,” you mutter, observing the coin in the light. The large eyes of the embossed little monster stare back at you. “This is really nice of you.”

“It’s not big deal,” Bucky shrugs. “I just thought you’d like it.”

Honey fills your throat. Gulping, you glance at the clock, nearly relieved to see it’s time for you to leave. “I gotta go,” you tell him, gathering your things. The smooth edges of the penny dig into your palm. He stands in tandem, rolling his shoulders.

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll walk you.”

“You don’t have to,” you begin.

“I want to. Besides, it would kind of feel weird not to after so long.”

You nod along. “Right.” 

He ducks his chin in affirmation, picking up his stuff too. Furtively, he lightens your own load.

You notice but know better than point it out and argue, remembering how you ended up bedrudgingly carrying only a pen last time.

“Does Sam still have your car?” you ask as you leave the library.

“Yup. One more week, he says.”

“Do you believe him?”

“Well, he’s been saying that for two, so…”

You laugh, staring up at a big tree vignetted orange.

Bucky nudges you lightly as you begin to drift away, preventing you from walking into the street. He guides you past a fissure in the sidewalk as you gasp at something in a boutique’s window. “There’s a sale at the bookstore!”

“Wanna go tomorrow?” Bucky asks.

You nod. “Can we?”

“Sure, we’ll just leave the library a little earlier,” Bucky suggests, balancing the books in his arms.

“Someone’s sure of themselves,” you tease. “You’re walking me home tomorrow, too?”

“Of course. I have been for months,” Bucky points out with a shrug.

Your jests die on your tongue as you realize he’s right, the discovery shocking when the memories of your solitary walks are further away than you had thought; suddenly, you remember that the dog you’d pointed out two weeks ago was more for his benefit than yours.

“Weeks,” you argue weakly, throat suddenly dry.

“Weeks could definitely be months,” Bucky reasons. 

You ignore him, stopping in your tracks. “Why?”

A frown tugs at his lips as he pauses as well. “Because weeks add up to months?”

“Why have you been walking me home every day for months?”

“‘Thought it was weeks?”

“Bucky,” you say, a little urgent.

He shrugs boyishly, near flippant but your things in his arms don’t let you believe that. “I don't want you to walk alone.” Then, “I wanted to make sure you got home safe.”

Shocked pupils dart around wildly and it’s difficult to swallow before you steady yourself, clearing your throat. Your features are pinched in a sort of raw determination—open, honest. “Thank you.”

He smiles and it’s soft as he shrugs lightly, nearly nonchalant.

Before you let yourself get too caught up in the curve of his lips and realize you’ve imitated it unconsciously, you look away, clearing your throat in relief when you spot your door.

“Right. Um, thanks again.” You take your things from him before he can think twice about it, speed walking to your door.

“Wait—” he stammers out, confused and too late when you give him a wave and a quick goodbye before slamming the door shut.

You swallow hard on the other side of the door, wide eyes staring aimlessly into the darkness. In the dreaded stillness, you can feel the heat that creeps up your neck and floods stickily into your face, the prickling static that needles into your palms. Shakily and illicitly, a hand drifts up to your chest, pressing to feel the thundering beating of your heart.

You curse to the silence, letting your eyes flutter shut in candied disappointment.

-

Bucky thinks you’re acting weird.

No—he’s sure you’re acting weird.

He knows you now, can recognize the sarcastic lines of your cheeks when you wrinkle your nose and poke fun at him. He’s memorized the genuine curve of your lips when he’s said something so cheesy it circles around to sweet. He knows you at your angry and at your happy, but he doesn’t know this.

You’re being nice to him. Sticky nice. Not you-nice.

He tries teasing first, poking a pencil into the flesh of your arm and asking if you’d fallen in love or something. You’d scoffed, blinked fast, and swatted him away. But you didn’t say no.

He’s aware he’s a fool to think so large of a lack of something, but he can’t pretend like it doesn’t inspire something in him, something like hope, like nectar, sticky in his throat.

He wonders if it clogs words up in yours—if it’s the reason you’re so quiet.

You stare through your computer, steam from your tea disappearing into the air as you blink. There’s a sweet indent in between your eyebrows, similar to the one you get when you study something you don’t completely understand, usually accompanied by the nail of your thumb between your teeth. But this one is lighter, more unintentional. You’re struggling with something but he can’t figure out what.

Your eyes flicker up to his, glinting in the light when you catch them on you.

“What?” you blurt. It’s louder than you intend, and you purse your lips in that embarrassed way that you do, shrinking down into your seat. “Why are you staring at me?”

“You’re pretty,” he says honestly.

He waits for your usual flustered reaction and you give it to him, but it’s vignetted with something, different in the quick blinks of your eyes and the thumb you brush over your nose. 

“I'm hungry,” you complain, ignoring his compliment.

“I'll buy you something,” Bucky responds immediately, already pulling out his wallet.

“You don’t have to,” you remind. “I wasn’t asking, I was just—”

“I know, it’s fine,” Bucky insists.

“I can pay. It’s my food.”

“It’s just a meal.” He squints at you. “You never pass up a chance of food on me.” He presses the back of his palm against your forehead and leans in closer. “Are you feeling okay?”

You heat up beneath his touch, shaking him off with a scowl. “You make me sound awful. Fine. Buy me my food then.”

Bucky raises his hands in surrender, wallet between his index and middle finger rising with his shoulders. “I will.” He squeezes your shoulder before he walks away, dipping down to your ear to whisper, “And you’re not awful.”

You huff, pinching your lips together as you watch him get in line, nudging his fingers into his wallet to take out money.

Arbitrarily, you’re annoyed. Bucky Barnes is infuriating, with his long charcoal lashes and lilting chuckle and nonchalance in giving things you want without your asking.

Your laptop screen darkens with your lack of attention, and you’re left staring at yourself, scrutinizing the thin lines around your eyes as you squint. You’re being ridiculous; you can’t be angry over Bucky being a sweet guy.

“They musta’ known you were coming,” Bucky whistles, balancing a bowl and a small bag already darkened with grease spots in his arms. You take the bowl from him, warmth seeping into your fingertips.

You furrow your brows at him when you pop the lid off, barely realizing you’d never told him what to get. “You got me cavatappi pasta,” you realize. You look upset.

“Yeah?”

Distressed, you snatch the bag from him, shoving your fingers inside to pull out two large chocolate chip cookies. “And chocolate chip cookies.” Your voice rises and falls with a slightly unhinged twinge, features pulling as you examine what Bucky got for you. Your comfort food; the token you’d never explained to him.

“Yeah. It’s what you always get. And I know you always want two cookies but only get one because you’re afraid you won’t finish it, but we can split it or you can save it, or—what are you doing?”

You sweep everything into your arms, holding the food tightly behind your books.

“I have to go.”

“What? We just got here.”

“I have an appointment.”

“For what?”

“For—things—it’s—” you huff. “I have to go.”

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride? I have my car back, you know,” Bucky offers, already beginning to get up, but you shake your head, his actions hitting something in your chest.

“I'll be fine, thanks for the…” you exhale sharply. “I'll see you later.”

You run off, ignoring his confused call of your name as you slam the door behind you.

Hot soup dribbles down your fingers as you speed walk back home, but you barely notice, struggling to remember why you’d rejected him before.

“I hate him,” you mumble, fully dishonest as you struggle with your keys. “I hate him so much.”

“Hate who?” Bruce asks from the table, sparing you a glance from his computer. His eyebrows join as he takes you in, every panting and crazed inch of you, mouth parting and head tilting. “Uh.”

“Bucky,” you reply, setting the a la carte box down hastily. You drop the cookies next to it.

Bruce stares at you.

You make a big gesture with your hands toward it, pursing your lips. “He bought me that. Just—insisted. He's so—” you sigh frustratedly. “I didn't even—he bought me cookies.”

“Okay.” It's long and hesitant. “And that’s bad because…” he begins to shake his head. “You don’t like cookies?”

Your shoulders drop.

“You hate cookies and pasta. You think they’re awful,” Bruce tries.

“No! I love soup and cavatappi and—he’s ruining everything! He's such an idiot!” you rub your face, nuzzling your nose into the crevice between your joined hands.

Bruce examines you for another second before: “Oh.”

“What?” you snap, meeting amused brown. “What?”

“Nothing,” Bruce muses, but his lips are set in a careful smile, amusement poorly hidden. “Just that you finally learned his name.”

His thoughts are pathetically obvious in his tone, lips in a thin line and eyes crinkled.

“Don’t,” you warn. “Bruce Banner—”

“I didn't say anything.”

“Do not think what you’re thinking,” you demand. “He’s a player and a distraction and—”

“Okay.” Bruce has never been one to argue, but his one word answer makes you more frustrated than anything else he could’ve said.

You puff and gather your food, striding to your room with a glare at your best friend. 

-

For the first time since you met Bucky, you follow through on an excuse to miss the game. It’s not a majorly important one—although Bucky pouts when you tell him either way, insisting that he needs you there for good luck—but you still feel a strange ache at the bottom of your stomach when the game begins and you’re too far away to cheer for him.

The edges of your lips are downturned, brows pinched as you stare at your phone before you realize what you’re doing and snap your attention away.

Scoffing, you shake away thoughts about soccer and the memory of Bucky's sweet blue eyes when he’d teased you, a strange tone of real sadness beneath his playful jests.

You pause, lifting your hands from your computer to eye the time once again. Furtively scanning the work you’re nearly done with, you allow yourself the distraction and grab your phone, fingers dancing in anticipation when your lock screen is littered with icons of messaging apps.

You click Bucky’s name first, smiling softly as you read a quickly typed summary of the game he probably sent after the first half was over. He sounds hopeful and excited, like he always does when he talks abouts soccer, but he signs off with a mispelled reminder that he misses you and a red heart. You check Wanda and Bruce's messages next, your face falling when you learn the second half hadn’t gone as well.

Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, you glance at your work again and then at the clock, taking a quick breath before you force yourself to write a quick conclusion you promise yourself you’ll revise when you get home.

The game is over by the time you arrive, easily finding a parking spot in the midst of everyone’s departure. You hear disappointed grumbling as you make your way inside the stadium and cringe, striding toward the locker room.

Your name in Bruce’s voice makes you pause, turning to meet his pulled, bushy eyebrows and pinched lips. “What’re you doing here?”

“I finished early,” you explain. “And you said the game wasn’t going great so I thought I'd come and make sure the team’s okay.”

Bruce's features morph into something like realization and then into his poor poker face, lips pursed so tightly they’re edged white. “Right. The team.”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, since it’s the whole team, I should let you know most of them are in the locker room moping, but Bucky wanted to leave early.” Bruce looks pointedly to the right.

“What? Why?”

Bruce shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe he said something about seeing you, but since you’re here for the team—”

“Shut up, Bruce.” You squint meanly at him, making him swallow a laugh as you spin around and continue on your path. 

You bump into Bucky when you turn a corner, familiar hands coming to rest on your arms distractedly before his eyes brighten in recognition. He says your name in surprise, shaking you gently as if to check that you’re real. His hair is damp from the quick shower he’d just taken, dark spots from water droplets around the collar of his gray shirt. He smells like soap and Bucky and it makes you a little dizzy.

“Hey, I heard about the game,” you say. “I wanted to check up on you.”

“Oh. I was just coming to see you. I told you that you were our lucky charm.” Bucky laughs but it’s not completely honest, his disappointment about the loss shining through.

You frown, unsure of what to do. Suddenly, you shove your hands into your coat pockets, pulling out a crinkled baggie in each one. “I brought you something.”

Bucky steps back, eyebrows furrowed as he notices what you’re holding. “Are those orange slices?”

Nervous now, you let your arms drop. “Yeah. I, uh—figured they’d maybe give you a boost and—” You cut yourself off, laughing awkwardly. “It was dumb.”

“My mom used to bring me orange slices after soccer practice,” Bucky mumbles.

You perk up. “Yeah. You told me about that and I thought maybe you’d like them.” The end of your sentence lilts like a question, answered by the quick movements of Bucky's fingers when he takes a baggie from you and pulls it open, taking a slice out to grin happily at it.

He dips his fingers in again and hands another to you, bumping his own small slice against yours. “Cheers.”

As soon as he bites into it, the juice from the fruit runs down his fingers, eyelids falling closed in a delighted hum. You barely realize the sap has streaked sticky orange down your arm, too.

He breathes out your name as he opens his eyes, a dazzling blue in the fluorescent lights of the locker room hall. “I forgot how…” He shakes his head, drifting off, and takes the other bag from you, pulling you to him. He sighs big and warm, rumbling through his chest.

You rub your nose against his sweatshirt, breathing in deeply. There's the fresh scent of citrus and then the lavender body wash you’d bought for him faint beneath his own distinct smell. He thanks you blithely, a lot lighter.

You shrug it off and force yourself to pull away, shivering at the loss even if you initiated it. “Do you want to get something to eat and watch that new episode of The Great British Bake-Off we missed last week?”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, hand drifting down to pull yours along. His skin is sticky and sweet against yours, orange juice smearing on your palm, but you can’t find it in you to care.

-

You feel sick when you step outside; a sticky, prickly rush that coats your throat in sap. It’s cold enough to make goosebumps rise on your skin, dark enough for the stars to drown in ink. Any appetite you had disappears, replaced with something clammier and painful, a twisting anxiety as a result of a bad day and a completely avoidable situation.

The bags with your food bump warmly against your knee, plastic handles pulling against the skin of your wrist. If you stay as you are, there will be indents of them once you finally put the bag down. 

Something like dumb, chest-puffed stubbornness tugs incessantly at you when you contemplate calling Bruce to come pick you up, a biting voice snapping pathetic for even thinking about it convincing you to shut the door behind you, locking away the choice of warmth and safety and shame.

It’s very silent when you begin to walk, the crinkling of your bag loud and in tandem with your steps. You let it slide down and hook on your fingers, carefully aware of shadows that might peek out behind yours and off-space footsteps.

Lonely fingers curl in on themselves, missing the comforting frigidity of the keys you’d forgotten at home. Your dying phone vibrates in the tight grip of your hand, spurring your steps faster. A dark lump appears on your shadow’s shoulder, and you freeze, spinning around violently to face the street, empty behind you.

You turn back around hesitantly, breath trembling. You could’ve sworn you felt someone else behind you.

Eyes rounded and wet, you begin to walk again, feeling an uncomfortable heat in the space where your ribs meet. Your required cognizance turns frantic, making your fingers shake and oxygen difficult to get into your lungs. There’s an echo to your footsteps. When you blink, there’s the ghost of an unforgiving hand on the back of your neck, the sharp slam of your jaw against brick. You gasp when you open your eyes again, a hand flying to the aching skin of your neck as you spin.

Your eyes promise that there’s no threat lurking behind darkness, but your mind blares with an assurance that there is. Ducking behind a wall, you scramble for your phone, cheeks cold with air-slapped tears as you press the call button for the first contact your fingers find.

Bucky’s voice is confused and comforting when he answers.

“I think—I think someone is following me,” you whimper, pulling your legs to your chest. Your food warms the side of your thigh. 

“What? Where are you?”

“I don’t know,” you cry. “I’m sorry, I should, it’s just—I was walking home from the restaurant and I heard something and I can’t concentrate, I can’t breathe—”

“Okay, it’s okay. Try to breathe, okay? Can you tell me what restaurant it was?”

You can picture the glowing sign, the faded wallpaper, the flowered curtains, but you can’t think, barrelling you deeper into panic. “I can’t remember—I—”

You can hear Bucky open his door. “Hey, it’s okay. Were you eating there or picking up to go?”

“To-go,” you answer tearfully, concentrating on the box pressing into your flesh.

“Okay. For you and Bruce or just you?”

“B-both of us.”

“You’re doing great, sweetheart. Try to take deep breaths, I think I—”

There’s a hollow click before it’s silent, the calm you’d been grasping at completely gone. “Bucky?” you plead. “Bucky?”

You pull your phone away from your ear, vision going blurry when you tap desperately at the screen and it doesn’t respond. Dead.

There’s a tremendous weight on your chest, your elbow knocking against the wall behind you with your attempts to draw in a breath. You shove your head in between your knees and try to remember Bucky’s voice, forget the cold fear that another clammy hand will reach for your hair and tug you up.

You need to get home. You can’t move.

You stifle your sobs with your leg, clawing at your shins and trying to think of anything else. You shove your hand in between your stomach and your legs, letting your phone fall to your thighs as the tips of your fingers reach the round hills of your collarbone. Your palm digs into your flesh until the beating of your heart pulses against your thumb, aching when you force it to stay put.

Thump, thump. “O-one,” you force, restraining your fingers from curling. Thump, thump. “Two.” A deep, shuddering breath that makes your mouth snap closed and your eyes flutter into darkness. Thump, thump. “Three…”

It’s how Bucky finds you, your nose deep between your knees, counting watery and muffled. He’s frantic when he sees you, panic like needles against his chest prickling to a pounding ache. He should be more cautious, stand still a few feet away for a few seconds, step slowly. If he were a little less in love, maybe he would; but he’s not, and the relief that you’re solid and no longer a tenuous voice on his phone is too much a relief.

He calls out your name and rushes forward, lowering himself down to his knees before he touches your arm. You flinch, shoving a strong hand against him, a horrible mix of anger and fear contorting your voice.

“It’s me. It’s Bucky.”

You still push yourself back against the wall, but your eyes finally meet his. “Bucky,” you test. “Bucky.”

It’s a silent, cold beat before you blink clearly, irises looking back a little less hazy. You murmur his name once more and promptly burst into tears, launching yourself into his chest. His arms wrap around you in tandem, pleasing the closeness your fisted fingers crave. He takes in your tears, steadily smoothing a hand over your back, desperation in the way he hooks his chin over the crown of your head.

“Are you okay?” he asks too soon.

You make a noise of which answer he can’t be sure of, so he gathers you up in his arms to push you away, only a little, only for a second to stare at you.

You grip at his shirt, cheeks shiny. And then, “I thought I was really gonna die this time.” Hearing your admittance causes a shift on your face, still crumpled and unready to deal with this. “Just for a second and—” Your lips twist to keep words back. 

Bucky pulls you back in.

“Will you take me home?”

His compliance is wordless and patient, hooking a finger through your takeout and grasping your hand with his free one, guiding you to his car. He helps you inside, setting the bag at your feet before he buckles your seatbelt and pushes strands of hair away from your sticky face.

Your breathing steadies while he drives, concentrating on the cool puffs of air hitting your collarbone, the lingering warmth from the food you’re suddenly starving for. But the wash of panic has left a shameful residue and a subsequent otiose apology on your tongue, making the once comforting silence expectant.

Your chest weighs when you finally spot your door, fighting to pull words from your mouth at the dimmed lights, but Bucky beats you to it, clearing his throat without unlocking the door. His left hand lays clothed on his lap, face stormed with uncertainty, but there’s a resolute edge that makes him look at you.

“I’m sorry,” you start, misunderstanding.

“Why?”

You aren’t sure, only certain of how guilty you feel. “For… bothering you. For making you comfort me. I’m sorry that you had to see me like that."

“Don’t apologize.” He clenches his jaw. “I don’t want you to…”

He shoves his sleeve up, taking a deep breath as he pinches the fingertips of the glove. “I know that wasn’t something you were ready to share with me. I understand, I…”

His gaze is heavy, flickering between your face and the fingers peeling away his glove. He swallows hard when it’s pulled off completely, looking away from the sight of his skin.

You can’t help the way your eyes track down his arm. It’s scarred with angry raised lines, ending at his fingertips and disappearing into his shirt sleeve. 

“I was in a fire once,” he says. “‘Got some scars too.”

“Is that why you wear—” You trail off at his nod. “Why are you… why are you telling me?” you ask, wincing at how the question sounds, but Bucky seems to understand what you mean.

He shrugs. “I don’t know,” he lies.

You blink at him, slipping a sure hand into his and squeezing. “Thank you.”

His eyes stay startled on your interlocked fingers, stubborn even beneath his gaze. He laughs hollowly then, squeezing back before he finally meets your eyes. “You, too.”

-

Your fingers are wound tightly around Wanda’s arm, the nails digging into her sweater giving away what your face is trying to hide. You’re zeroed in on Bucky's figure as he runs across green after blurry white.

The energy from the others who cheer in the stands makes you buzz, a rush of confidence urging you to jump to your feet when Bucky passes the ball to Pietro and then has it once again, close enough to the other team’s goal to make you clench a hand in anticipation.

With the flesh of your thumb between your teeth, you can’t help but lose your breath when it looks like Bucky's going to try to make it, only for it to be knocked out from your lungs when he crashes to the ground from the impact of another player.

Your mouth parts in a surprised o, tongue playing his name before you can stop it.

It's eerily silent in the stadium for a second as Bucky lies on the field, before it disappears into a fold of angry screams.

You’re not worried.

Bucky has never gotten hurt on the field before—”I’m too good,” he had promised you with an uneven grin, annoying in the way that he’s right—and the only times it’s seemed otherwise have been lies, a mere play he put on for the free kick. He had shaken his head disappointedly at you when you’d gotten worried, condemning you for not trusting him. He’s playful when he’s flustered.

So you’re not worried, because you know Bucky is fine.

Except he hasn’t moved in a little while too long and you don’t think it’s ever taken him this long to fake it. Although, maybe it feels longer because you can’t take your eyes off his figure.

You’re not worried.

Your fingers say otherwise, thumb tapping against your alternating fingers so frantically they get jumbled together, clumsily bumping into the crevices between them.

“Is he hurt?” Wanda asks.

“No,” you say automatically, stretching your fingers out like a starfish as if to rid evidence of your anxiety. “No, he’s fine.”

It's another moment that seems too long and the lines of Wanda’s worried face deepen, breaths a little faster. “He's not… he’s not getting up.”

“He’s fine,” you insist. “He has to milk it.” Glancing up at the timer, you nod definitively. “Yes, he has to milk it to get the penalty kick.”

“What?” Wanda asks, meeting your eyes in confusion.

“The hit didn’t seem that bad,” you lie unsteadily. “He has to milk it. He’s fine.”

Your panic escapes in the highs of your voice, something translucent hiding it when you clear your throat. He's still not getting up and it makes your breath comes out quickly. “He has to be,” you admit.

Wanda’s brows furrow, eyes searching your face once Bucky finally limps weakly to his feet, giving the ref a short nod. A sigh large enough to make you bend slips past your lips, caught in a relieved laugh as you gesture to him.

“I told you,” you tell her.

“He’s limping,” she points out.

“It’s fake,” you assure, fingers digging round shadows into your temples. “He’s doing his hero face, he’s completely fine.” It comes out more relieved than you thought it would.

He gets his penalty kick, makes it, of course, and it’s another few, a lot slower minutes before the game is over, but you’re making your way down thirty seconds before, too much attention on the game rather than your footing on the stairs.

You stumble over your feet, barely caring when the whistle blows to indicate the game is over, and turn in the direction of the hall to the locker room. Your anxiety nearly seems silly now, not as oppressive now that the soaked towel you’d been waterboarded with was dry. Yet, it still prickles at your fingertips, faint but enough to ache.

It's only a couple minutes before you can hear the pattering of feet, the stress that the outliers are Bucky, limping like he did on that field, nudging at your mind. The players wave at you, surprised, and your heart grows heavier and heavier with each passing team shirt that does not have “BARNES” on the back.

Then he’s there, completely fine and near the end of the line. He's grinning at the apparent win, letting Steve shove him proudly. His eyes widen in surprise when they catch sight of your own, saying something to his teammates without looking at them as he steps toward you.

“Hey, what’re you—”

Unable to help yourself, you throw your arms around his neck, the prickling disappearing the moment you touch him. He is hot and solid in your arms, but most importantly completely fine.

“Hey,” he coos, hugging you back.

You allow him a moment before you pull back abruptly and smack his arm.

“Ow!” he complains, grabbing your hand.

“You asshole! What’s up with the drama?”

“What, did I scare you?” Bucky teases, smirk dropping when your deadpan doesn’t glitter with playfulness. “Doll?”

“You took your sweet time getting back up,” you continue, ignoring his words. “You’ve never taken that long.” You’re alone in the hall now, eyes frenetic over his figure.

He softens then, chin pulling closer to his neck so his eyes can give you a reassuring smile. “Hey,” he says softly, tapping your wrist with his index, “‘m fine.”

“I know,” you contend, but it comes out a little relieved at hearing it in his voice. “I told Wanda that.”

His cheeks apple at your statement, amusement twinkling back in his eyes. “Of course. My girl knows I can't get hurt.”

You scoff at the term of endearment, nervous energy dissolving. “I'm not your girl.”

“Not yet!” he proclaims.

You wrinkle your nose, stepping away from him. “You stink. Go shower.” You pat his shoulder as a goodbye, beginning to head back out.

“Sure know how to charm a guy,” he mumbles, watching you walk away with a dopey smile.

-

You’re in your room, laying on your stomach with your computer in front of you and a drink Bucky had bought for you sitting on your bedside table.

He's sitting against your bed, scanning over a document. You should be doing something like it, but you can’t help but be distracted. He's quiet for once, features set in something not playful and not serious, a small knot between his brows indicating his concentration.

He looks pretty. You can’t be blamed.

If he notices your gaze, he’s kind enough to not point it out, although it’s unlikely. It’s undoubtedly heavy.

He’s staring down at his hand when he speaks up for what seems like the first time since hes arrived. His fingers dance nervously before he shoves them away from his view, edges of thick tissue peeking out as a bracelet on his wrist. “Do I make you uncomfortable when I flirt?”

You blink owlishly at him, unsure how to answer. He sounds so serious, guilty. “No.”

“If it makes you uncomfortable, I'll stop.”

“I know you would. But it doesn’t. Is something wrong?”

Bucky cringes. “You don’t really flirt back. I just want to make sure it’s not because I make you uncomfortable.”

“You don’t! I just… don’t really flirt. I don’t really think there’s a point if I’m not dating.”

“You don’t date?” He’s known this. To a point, which he thinks is not completely accurate now that he hears the way you say it.

“No.”

“Not even guys you like?”

“Especially guys I like, ” you clarify, cringing with the difficulty of putting so many feelings into so insignificant words. “Things get messy. It’s just… distractions and it’s never worth it.”

“You think love isn’t worth it? That it’s a distraction?”

You shoot him a look, huffing a little disappointedly, as if you’d expected him to understand something and he didn’t. “Why do people always twist my words into something so cynical?

I didn’t say that. Not love. I never said love, I just—it never ends well. It’s always something you pour so much into and get so little back.”

Bukcy shifts. “That’s not true. A relationship is fair, or at least, it’s supposed to be.”

“Ah, but see, ‘supposed to be’ and ‘is’ are two different things. I’d rather just skip the entire thing.”

Bucky frowns. “I don’t think you should.”

“You don’t think I should?”

“I don’t… I’m not telling you what to do, but I really think you should try. Love can be really great. And you deserve that.”

Your nails pinch at your fingers. “But what if it isn’t?”

“Then it isn’t.” You move to rebut, but Bucky continues. “But what if it is?”

You refuse to answer, chewing on your bottom lip.

Bucky gazes at you, waiting for a response before he realizes he won’t get one. He doesn’t push, turning back to his work.

“Why do you care so much?” you ask.

He sucks in a breath before admitting, “Mainly because I think you would really enjoy being loved. And very partially because I’m selfish.”

You hum. “You’re a really good guy, Bucky.”

“I try.”

You scowl lightly. “Incorrigible. Annoying. But really good.”

Bucky laughs. “Don’t forget—what was it you said about me? Charming? Sweet? Hand-to-heart hilarious?”

You launch a pillow at his head. “Nuisance is what I should’ve said.”

“Mm, a little contradictory but what’s life without some juxtaposition? Maybe I’m a man of many talents.”

The tip of your index finger shoves into his arm.

You fall into a peaceful silence once again when the laughter dissolves, your fingers busy away at your keyboard. There's a moment where you’re thinking, staring intently just past your computer and Bucky is staring at you, a thoughtful expression on his face, stony and all.

“Will you?”

It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to you. “Will I what?”

“Give it a chance.”

You want a moment to ponder it, because you know the right answer but you aren’t sure if you want to pick it. “Give what a chance?” you play dumb, but he doesn’t buy it.

You look to your side, unfocused eyes lazy on an ugly painting.

“Yeah, maybe.” You want to tell him it depends who it is, that you have very strict rules mentioning annoying brunets with blue eyes who walk you home from the library and never shut up, but you don’t, eyes travelling back to him slowly. His silence when they finally meet his own tell you he knows anyway.

Quickly looking back down, you avoid his gaze and continue to work.

-

You melt into his side, delightfully prickling when you lean in a little closer to take a sip of your drink. Eyes shimmering in the lame lights of the bar, you’ve never looked so openly bright, hardly containing your delight and everything you can spilling past anyway.

There are enough people in the place for it to feel rightfully uncomfortable, sweat-sticky skin bumping into the arm he has around your chair and making the heat rise, but Bucky can’t seem to notice.

It would feel plain ignorant to do so—to not focus completely on the stitched pride in the dips of your smile or the warmth of your palms as they splay flat on his arm.

It’s not enough to just have your fingers tug at him during conversations with strangers, he feels he should imprint the feeling of your touch like a branding.

You say his name in conversation, cruelly dragging your hand down to bracelet around his wrist and squeezing. You make a little shimmy with your shoulders that can’t help but make him laugh. He zeroes in on your lips, trying to make sense of what you’re saying.

You’re cute. You’re too sweet to be in this stuffy bar with him.

You turn to him brightly in the midst of another exclamation and he feels himself transported.

He can feel the end buzzer vibrating up to his fingertips, the breeze on the heat of his skin when he’d looked up, eyes searching for you like a habit. 

Your features are shrunken into the memory, suddenly far away but still pulled into the biggest beam you could muster, hands clapping ecstatically.

“Bucky,” memory-you says liltingly, too clearly.

When he blinks, he’s back in the present, the tip of your index dimpling his bicep, your face close enough for him to count each individual eyelash. He grins without really thinking about it. “Bucky,” you repeat, a little harsher but still teasing.

“Yeah?” he responds finally.

“We’re complimenting you and you aren’t paying attention? Are you feeling okay?” you frown, lips downturned but the edges of your eyes still crinkled with happy lines. The back of your hand meets his forehead.

“Fantastic,” he says, his left hand vining up to hook around your fingers and lay them on his lap. “Just won a game, didn’t you hear? All by myself, too.”

You shake your head at him, turning back to who Bucky realizes is one of your friends. Carol, you’d said.

“See?” You say accusatorily. 

Carol grins. “Yeah. Kind of hard not to when you describe it so thoroughly.”

That catches Bucky’s fluttering attention, an eyebrow shooting up questioningly in your direction. Your lips part in betrayal at Carol, and you begin to take your hand back from Bucky, but he hooks your wrist before you can. 

“I think Maria is calling you,” you tell her. “You should go see what that’s about.”

“Now, now,” Bucky starts. “Actually, I think I want to know how thoroughly you talk about me, sweeheart.”

“That's my cue,” Carol laughs, dipping a beer at you both. “I'll see you guys later. Congrats on the game.”

She bounces to her feet and takes off, leaving the two of you alone. Bucky nudges a finger in between your ribs, making you jump and swat at him. “Hey!”

“You talk about me to your friends?”

You stare at him, bottom lip pushing out defensively in your tipsiness. “Well, the star football player is one of my best friends, shouldn’t I be allowed to brag?”

“Best friend, huh? Bruce gonna be jealous?”

You wave him off, making a small, stubborn sound. “He ought to get over it with how much he ditches me.”

“See, I would never.” Bucky presses his free hand to his heart in oath. “Star football players are very reliable. Scoring goals, keeping plans, etcetera.”

You grin at the reminder, something sparkling beneath your skin like static, jolting your fingers when it begins to brim. You splay an excited palm on his shoulder out of pure excitement, seeming to relive the night.

“I am so proud of you,” you say. Saccharine, words stout with a smile and pride. “You did so well today.”

You’re startlingly genuine, entirely proud. Bucky can’t bring himself to tease or flirt.

“Thank you.”

You smile prettily, the light in your irises shifting at his authenticity. “I am,” you insist.

You just want to tell him, for him to hear you and understand how much you mean it. Your pupils flicker to a spot above his shoulder, distant for a second as your face brightens more. You laugh disbelievingly.

“I don't know all that much about football but from what I do, you’re certifiably extraordinary.” You sound out the word, unwilling to mess it up when you mean it so much. You try again. “You made a really great play.”

“Impossible,” Bucky corrects completely unsubtly, but it’s soft, blurred by yellow light from above and buzz from you.

You observe him for a second. “I think you’re amazing,” you say thoughtfully, not in an effort to compliment but in a sort of realization. “What… type of person…” you start but don’t continue, tongue unable to keep up with everything running through your mind. The walks home, the paid lunches, the attention, the ability. 

You inhale sharply, as if realizing you’re drifting off and trying to pull yourself back in.

Bucky knows what you expect—what he expects of himself—but he can’t bring himself to tease you, reiterate your words with an artful curve of his lips. He can’t concentrate enough to ignore the prickly warmth at the bottom of his stomach. He glances down at his watch.

“Should we go?” he says instead, casual but urgent. “It's late.”

He stands before you can process his offer, still a little drunk from stolen sips but only enough to make contrasts lighter. You blink up at him from your seat for a second before nodding, two short, stressed lines between your brows. He shouldn’t have been so abrupt.

Kinder, he helps you from your seat and guides you toward the door, keeping you away from stray elbows with benevolent redirection.

Your breath curls visibly in the air when you step outside, white and dissolving until it is replaced by another, longer exhale. You wrap your arms around your torso.

“C'mon,” he urges, guiding you to his car. “Let’s get you warm.”

“Should you be driving?” you ask as he searches his pockets for the keys, standing at the car door, watching him. “And what about the others?”

“Didn’t drink,” he answers, patting his coat pockets until he finds what he’s looking for.

You frown, slowly running through the night and realizing he’s right, recalling the sparkling water dripping moisture next to his jacket sleeve. The cold and the ennui knock a lot into focus.

He clicks open the car. “And this’ll force ‘em to call an uber. Worst comes to worst, I’ll drop by later to force them home. I just want to get you home first. No drunk footballers to puke on your feet.”

He rounds around to meet you, opening the door, and waiting patiently.

“Why didn’t you drink?” you ask. You’ve seen him drink before, tipsy in that breezy way where he’s a little flirtier with a little less filter. “You won a game. If you ever deserved it, it’s now.”

“I had to be able to drive you back.” He shrugs, cocking his head in the direction of the open car door. “Speak of the devil,” he starts pointedly, reminding you of your frigidity.

Still contemplating, you climb inside with furrowed brows, following Bucky's figure as he shuts your door, jogs back to his side, and settles into the driver’s seat. Rubbing his hands together, he turns to look at you. 

“You okay?” he asks.

“Uh huh.”

He clicks his tongue. “Look at that. I think you’re a little drunker than I thought.”

“I am not,” you argue, looking down at yourself and seeing nothing wrong until Bucky reaches over to pull your seatbelt over you. “Oh.”

Bucky breathes out a little laugh, amused.

“I'm just…” You contemplate for a second, sinking into the rumbling of the engine when Bucky turns the car on. Immediately, heat slaps your nose. The glass meets your temple bitingly, jolting your sentence back on track. You turn to see Bucky's attention already on you. “Happy.”

“You’re happy?” Bucky repeats pleasantly, shifting the gear into drive.

“Yes. It was a good day today.” 

You feel clearer now, the edges of reality crisper as you look out the window. “I know I already said it, but I'm really proud, Bucky. You win games and ace tests and don’t celebrate with a drink to drive me home. You’re kind of great.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, glancing at you.

You hum an affirmation, inhaling deeply. At some point, Your few-sip buzz dissipated into something different.

Sober, but influenced on the darkness of the sky and the roundness of the moon. It feels safe suddenly, a rush of energy jolting you straight. You stare at Bucky's profile. “Yeah,” you confirm clearly. “It's kind of disappointing, you know.”

Bucky is caught off guard, sparing you a look when he stops at a stoplight. “What?”

“I just thought you’d be different.”

“How?” His brows are furrowed.

You take a moment to ponder. “Not so… you. More of the unforgivably arrogant and ignorant jock variety.”

“So you were expecting me to be one of those cartoon stereotypes?” he teases, looking back at the road with an easier smile.

“Kind of,” you laugh. “But you’re not and that’s really great.”

The red light from outside drapes over his features, pulled as he searches the crevices of your face. In response, it slackens slowly, from thoughtful to a little dazed as you stare back. Without meaning to, you’re leaning in at the same time he is.

His skin flips green.

You fall away from him with a surprised exhale, blinking in confusion.

It takes a second for Bucky to look away after you have, and you consider yourself lucky there’s no one else on the road during the long moment it takes for his attention to switch back to driving.

He doesn’t want to just forget what happened. He doesn’t want to move on from this yet. “What does that mean?” he asks, your compliment playing on repeat in his mind.

You stay silent, trying to figure it out yourself. “I don't… I don’t know.”

He tries to remain unbothered, glancing at you once more to catch your focus unmovingly on him. He pulls into your driveway and turns off the car.

“What about going on a date with me?” he requests, a little more serious that usual but glazed in his usual tone. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he continues.  “I'll dress up in that shade of blue you think I look so good in and we’ll go out to eat at that little hole-in-the-wall restaurant I'm still impressed you found. You’ll order that same thing you always do, and we can talk about that novel you’re reading—”

He doesn’t wait for the answer you’ve given before, stepping out of the car and striding over to your side.

You gaze up at him when he opens your door, your buckle unclasped in your hand. He's kind as he always is as he helps you out, hands settling on your shoulders to steady you when you nearly trip over a ridge in the sidewalk.

“Or… or we could go take a walk around the park. Or go to the movies, or the amusement park, or do laundry or taxes or—anything as long as it’s with you.”

And maybe it’s the easy smile, with the glitter of gold pride still sewn into his lips, or the genuine kindness he’s never failed to show you under the mask of the moon. Maybe it’s the proximity. Maybe you just can’t help yourself anymore. You kiss him.

He’s frozen for a solid moment, thick enough for you to start doubting yourself, beginning to pull away when he finally reacts, practically melting into you as his hands frantically pull you closer.

He pulls away hesitantly, torturously, a second later, eyes scrutinizing. “Wait, wait, wait, are you drunk?”

You shake your head, laughing gently at the thumb that pulls gently at the skin beneath your eye to make sure, urgently tugging you back into the kiss when he’s satisfied.

“‘Had to make sure,” he mumbles against your lips. “This can’t happen when you aren’t you.”

“It’s me,” you promise, pulling back. Before you can delve into your mind too deeply, you nod suddenly. “Yeah, okay.”

“Yeah, okay what?” he repeats, chasing after you to kiss you a few more times.

“I'll go out with you.”

His smile drops, fingers tightening around your hips. “Wait, really?”

You nod. “Yeah.” You grasp his arms tightly. “I should at least try, right?”ey

[artbeans]

morning in the city

[allisonlol]

May i request Fyodor x fem!reader ( when they on their period ) 😳 ? Add some nfsw is the best ಡ ͜ ʖ ಡ .I rlly love your words you writing cuz its easy to understand (for me). Ignore this is okay. Have a good day ( ╹▽╹ )

a/n: ur so sweet, i'm answering this SO LATE and feel rlly bad lol. i went and added other characters to compensate perhaps <3 this post ended up being super long lmao!! also don't ask me wtf happened in fyodor's part, y'all it's about to get nasty in a good way

warnings: fem reader, periods, blood, nsfw at the end of each!! i've partitioned the sfw & nsfw sections for those who wanna skip :)

(Fyodor, Dazai, Chuuya) When Their S/O is on Their Period [Sfw & Nsfw]

Fyodor

SFW

before you, this man had never felt the touch of a woman (or anyone) so his knowledge on periods is quite limited

knows what they are from a scientific standpoint, but not really a sympathetic one

therefore u have to teach him a few things lol

gets the hang of it after awhile and ends up taking decent care of you when the time of month comes around

fyodor tends to shut himself off in his office for most of the day, which obviously doesn't help you

so, he now allows you to curl up in his lap while he types away at his computer

but if i'm being completely honest, he gets lowkey annoyed from ur whining and will kick you out of his office after an hour（￣ー￣）

this is fyodor we are talking about, after all

for the most part, he is attentive and plays the role of a supporting bf

makes you tea, showers with you, plays with your hair to help you fall asleep when you're kept up from the pain

copes decently with your mood swings etc. usually if you'd ever spoken to him in a rude tone unprovoked, he would be aggravated to say the least (◡ ﹏◡) but tries to have more patience & understanding since he knows ur going thru it lol

NSFW

oh lord, where do i even start

so surprisingly, he was the one to suggest the idea of period sex first

but then...did not act on it? literally talked about it in DETAIL and then left you hanging

now, he did this on purpose tho. wants to see you desperate and begging for it, and you did

fyodor is a smart cookie so he knows that your hormones are all out of whack, and that you want nothing more than for him to help you out

however, it's only when you are begging him with tears of frustration in your eyes that he finally agrees

won't really comment on it but he's not a fan of the blood, and only uses it to degrade you

^will finger you but then stare blankly down at his blood covered hand, before roughly wiping it across your face

pace wise, fyodor will start off gentle and "caring" before quickly switching to rough and demeaning

rails you so hard there are blood splatters up both his torso and yours

the whole time he glares down at you with a look of disgust and almost contempt while you're practically crying from overstimulation

Dazai

SFW

LMAOO good luck

jk, he's not that bad. well...at first he was

but gradually dazai realizes that he can't tease you and be his usual annoying self when ur on your period

because you WILL burst into tears

after the fact... he is quite a doting boyfriend <3

probably asks yosano for advice tho LMAO

always stops at the store after work to pick up snacks for you or anything else you may need

but do NOT ask this mf to buy pads for you. because he WILL come home with like...diapers or some shit 💀💀

dazai still doesn't always grasp the concept of mood swings so when you snap at him or start crying he just looks at you like 0-0??

quickly learns to just agree with everything you say and NOT tease you as much during these times

ok but listen up. if you wanna use this to your advantage, just manipulate him into doing things for you by guilt tripping him <3

^ "ugh, i was supposed to run to the store but i'm in soooo much pain, i wonder who could do this for me instead..."

consider it payback for all the times he's made YOU run errands for his lazy ass

NSFW

actually refused for the longest time out of fear it would hurt you

^literally the ONLY time this man has ever said no to sex. would instead give u a head pat & say "you should rest instead :)"

ok well what if we don't want to, dazai? what then??

you'd ended up giving him a pretty good speech on why it is GOOD to have sex while on your period and how it can alleviate pain and then he's like (¬‿¬)

after you've convinced him of that, dazai is down for it whenever <3 but only when YOU initiate it first & make it clear that is what you want

relatively gentle; prefers to go slowly and focus on hitting all the right spots deep inside you

loves watching the relief on your face as the pleasure overcomes the pain you'd been feeling nonstop

doesn't really like seeing the blood get on him tho...? not cuz he thinks it's gross or anything, but rather cuz it's your blood and it would make him think he's hurting you or something,,,idk but either way it would make him spiral

^so yea, the only side effect of this is that y'all must keep the lights OFF

Chuuya

SFW

THE BEST ONE FOR THIS IN EVERY WAY

isn't super educated on it at first, but after getting into a relationship with you he put in the work to do some research

treats you like a mf queen!!! (albeit he already does...but it's even better during this time)

has a period tracker on his phone so he can prepare in advance

isn't afraid to buy pads for you...and he's smart about it too. actually knows which size and type to buy

^walks straight into the feminine hygiene aisle and you best believe that if anyone even looks at him funny for doing so, he's breaking their jaw

stocks up on your favorite snacks & carries them in his pockets so if you're ever out n about and need some, he'll already be tossing one your way

surprisingly, chuuya puts up well with your mood swings and tries his best to not get angry or argue back lol <3

sometimes he may forget and snap back with something rude, which of course sets you off more

but dw, he makes up for it afterwards by giving you snuggles

plus, who needs a heating pad when you can just have chuuya lay on top of you??

NSFW

ngl the first time you asked he looked at you like 🤨

but after seeing the way your face fell at his reaction, he sighs and goes "well i guess we could try..."

dw, he very much WANTS to, he's just another one that needs to be sold on the idea out of worry it will hurt you

all you had to say was "it helps with the pain-" before chuuya is agreeing & pulling you towards the bedroom

after the first time he becomes lowkey addicted to it tho??

^it's the way you melt into his every touch, your voice cracks from the overwhelming pleasure, you're so much more wet...

yeah, he'll never get tired of seeing you this way <3

if you're worried about his reaction to the blood and all that, don't be because i promise he does NOT care. it's a normal bodily function and chuuya is the last person to judge that

^lays towels down on the bed to cover the sheets. wouldn't really mind if blood got on the sheets tho (he's rich anyway, he'll just buy more??)

OH and btw...yes he still gives head when you're on your period <3 when i said this man does not care, i MEANT it

taglist: @deadmitochondria @miycutie @chuuyasboots @shy-socially-awkward-intovert @beandaifuku @stygianoir @sonder-paradise @irethepotato @serenareiss @ashthemadwriter @mrsdostoevsky @clovcly

[nayaaatv]

wonwoo bf headcanons ☂︎

# : fluff, gn! reader ♡

warnings ! : none (?)

wc ! : 0.6k

a/n : FINALLY OMG. i thought this writers block was gonna last forever im so sorry.

req by anon ♡

look, yk how this man games right. okay so.. lets say one day, you got really bored and asked him if he could play roblox with u. ofc, he said yes bc he loves u. but also thought it was pretty stupid at first. but now... its a daily thing for u both!! you'd ask to play the 'stupidest' games like royale high, da hood, the mimic, whatever!! but he says yes everytime, and enjoys it everytime. hes having fun as long as ur having fun too.

u guys would have a cat together. like... fr. you'd name it like milo or tulip. cute things like that, ngl... i think he'd buy them little clothes or collars. to him, THEYRE HIS CHILD. u teased him about it before but he just replied with "im practicing." i hope we all know what that means hehe.

keeps every gift you give him. he still wears the bracelet you gave him 2 years ago. he still hugs the plushie you gave him on his birthday. he loves it when u still keep his gifts too. he appreciates it so much

can nap without u, but refuses to most of the time. he personally thinks its a need that u literally have to be there when he takes a nap, he doesnt know why, but he literally needs u to be there. he wont force you too much if you're busy, but hes gonna struggle a lot ㅠㅠ. its better if you like napping too or if ur a big cuddler. it doesn't matter to him though. you dont even have to nap with him he just wants you to be there.

computer cafe dates, like pls. your either both playing games or your just watching him do his stuff. its so comforting for the both of you. you're telling him about your day, ranting about the annoying co-worker you had at work as he games away. he always listens though, remembers every detail. he tells you about his day too, and its just a fun hobby for you both.

hes a bit shy most of the time, so you're gonna have to be the one to initiate anything physical. but he loves loves loves hand holding. you dont know why and maybe he doesnt either, it just makes him feel so safe and his hands are so warm and he says your hands are so soft to him :((

he really likes taking photos of u... don't take this in a weird way but he looks like the guy to have like a whole photo album of u looking pretty whilst doing nothing. whether its u actually posing for the camera or him just taking a photo without ur acknowledgement. little photographer bf

again with the gamer wonwoo agenda, if u were even struggling with something just a bit, he would leave his game immediately. it does not matter. it could be the simplest things! not being able to reach something, seeing a bug, literally anything!!!! he will help u everytime. okay maybe he doesn't help you everytime but he always pauses his game when he notices, and then goes back to gaming if he sees you dealing with it on your own.

secretly loves it when you kiss him out of the blue while he's reading or watching something. he always hits you with the "what was that?" in a very cool tone but his heart is actually spinning like crazy. he thinks you don't know but you can see the cutest shade of red on his cheeks everytime. he doesn't need to know that though.

[ jeonghan is next ! ]

taglist 𖦹 : @odetoyeonjun @stuckinmyhead5 @guavagyu @starry-mins @pearlygraysky @enhacolor @khypods

[universallychaoticpan]

Hi

I'm assuming that ur request is open can u do where (separate) Dazai and Fyodor's gf have 3 breakdowns over their 1 week long midterm/Exams. But problem is that s/o don't won't to cry & make themselves look like a fool in front of her genius bf. I studied but its still so hard & I'm so stressed that my mind cannot process information.

Anon, you have guess correctly, as my requests are always open. And I relate, I was so stressed trying to cram for midterms for two of my worst classes and then I go and get sick lmao. Anyway, though this is coming out later than anticipated, I hope everything turned out well for you. Come back any time and I hope you enjoy :))

Hurriedly, you wiped the tears from your bleary eyes, glancing over at the clock. It's glaring red numbers - not made any softer by the single lamp you had on - read 3:42 and you groaned into your hands. The words on the page in front of you blurred together, both because of your exhaustion and how much you had cried. Your coffee was cold, having failed to lend you any energy hours ago, and you froze as you heard the floor by your bedroom door creak. No matter how bad it was, you couldn't let Osamu see you this way. Sweet, cocky, charming Osamu Dazai who never had to try. Dazai who was practically a genius, who sometimes forgot what day it was but never failed to ace all of his classes without the sleepless nights you had to put in.

Honestly, you couldn't understand what he saw in you. Compared to him, anything you did seemed small; if he ever really tried, he could probably cure cancer. And you loved him. But it was nights like these that you doubted every time he ever said he loved you. Why would you? You couldn't hold a candle to him. What were you doing? Studying endlessly for an exam to pass a class to earn a degree that would let you work forever. The thought made you even sadder.

Now you were so blind to anything but the notes in front of you you didn't notice your boyfriend, rubbing sleep from his eyes and brushing his dark hair from his still glittering eyes (how he managed to always look so awake you would never know, the man had a worse sleep schedule than anyone you'd ever met) as he pulled up a chair beside you.

"You know, if this was me, love, you would be scolding me to get to bed and 'get some sleep for once in your life.'"

You jumped, hiding your face in your hands. "The hell are you doing here?"

"Well I was terribly thirsty and imagine my surprise when I find you here of all places."

"No Dazai," you sighed. "I mean why are you here? Compared to you I look like a failure- anything I can do, you can do better with your eyes closed and your hands tied behind your back. So why are you here instead of with any of the other genius girls in this place?"

Dazai blinked. His eyebrow lifted, a questioning look making his lips turn up. "Love, you know how our professors always say there are no stupid questions? That was probably the exception."

"But I don't stand a chance against you! I'm not as impressive or-"

"Y/n listen!" Dazai looked exasperated, rubbing his eyes as he gathered himself. "What's so wonderful about you is how you always put everything you have into the things you do. You're right, you aren't like me; you're better and that's why. You have to care about the things you do, because your passion decides the outcome. And one can not be apathetically brilliant. Remember that."

You smiled, laughing through a sob as you felt his arms close around you, leaning into his chest and breathing him deep. "Now please," he sighed, "can we please go back to sleep?"

Fyodor grumpily turned over, eyes assaulted by the glow of your laptop.

"My love it is four in the damn morning, respectfully, what could you possibly be doing?"

Before he could see, you released your lip from between your teeth, blinking away your tears and steadying your shaky voice before you said a thing.

"Nothing, don't worry. Just go back to sleep."

There was a slim chance he'd believe you; you loved how smart he was, but now you were hoping to heaven and hell that he wouldn't take a second look. If he did, he would see the raw skin of your upper lip where you pulled it off, the streaks of dry tears making lines of your skin glow just a bit brighter. He would have seen the heavy way your eyelids begged to close, the dark shadows beneath them bringing light to your exhaustion.

Of course he saw it all. He sat up beside you, closing your computer and looked you in the eye. His eyes were made for the dark; staring through you even now.

"You're the one always preaching to everyone else how important it is to care for oneself hm?" He held your chin gently, forcing you to look at him. "I should hope you haven't forgotten your own words?"

"You're one to talk," you muttered. "You've never had to try at all. I hardly think you're in the position to lecture me."

To your surprise, he laughed; the sound was low in his throat and soothing in the heat of the dark.

"Perhaps my love, but you're not in the right either. We both know this won't help you."

"Better than doing nothing."

In a second, he had your body pressed into his own. He rolled you away from your laptop, switching your positions on the bed while keeping his arms around you.

"Do not dismiss your well being so easily, dorogaya. What magic takes place when you sleep." He drew a finger down your nose, making you giggle in spite of yourself. "I watch as the night takes your weary bones and crafts them new for the day. I watch you become new each night, washed clean in a midnight sea as your mind creates stories for you to call kingdoms."

"Poetic bastard," you grinned, as you sank into him with each slow exhale. You could feel your spine release when his hands slipped beneath your shirt, his palms warm on your skin.

"The day waits for you; it will come. Do not rush it. Enjoy the night with me."

[rotshop]

Oh geez long ask, take it easy. Uh, well an idea I’ve had for a little that I really like but have not really many ideas for is like an s/o who just doesn’t purr. They can and there’s nothing wrong with their ability to purr, but for some reason they just never do it, they don’t get why either. It’s just a thing. I don’t know who to pair the s/o with, all I had for the idea is that s/o is with someone and that someone in a moment gets to hear them purr. I think the idea makes sense? -Echo

CNANNOT stop thinking abt this so im answerig it now so i can excorcise whatever fuckgin demon u put in me with this ask /pos

pls consider ; s/o makes some noise other than purring (ex. squeaking / squealing, huffing, chirping, etc etc) to show they're happy and their respective partner just has no fucking clue what it means / it takes them a bit to go 'oh hey wait a minute , THATS their version of purring.' or whatev ,,,,

i did a two short lill hc sets w/ this in mind lol ,,,,,,,,,,,,, ignore typos its 4am and im jetlagged <33333

Hofnarr

-chances are you don't purr because you're just that exhausted / stressed out. sure, others are able to most times but for one reason or another the stress seems to effect that part of you a little more than it does others. you've just kinda. been like that for so long now bc of all the stress working under phobos brings and so ur body / mind is always just kinda (at least somewhat / distantly) in panic mode so u never calm down / relax enough to rlly purr

-hof is the opposite !! he doesn't full on purr too too often but he makes a lot of trills / chirrup noises when he's particularly excited / happy. chances are when he notices u walk into a room he unintentionally starts purring lmao ,,, it DOES make him a little sad that you don't purr or make a whole lot of 'happy noises' like he does but!! that's ok ,, he's just kinda learned to accept it over time

-there was one time you were REAALLL burnt out. you'd been working on some little project phobos had given you for days and days on end now and it was tearing you to shreds. you had it mostly done by this point but given how you could just barely remember things from 5 minutes ago and you kept dropping shit it was gonna take a lot longer to finish in this state ,,,, he manages to drag you away from your work and make you get some rest. ur stubborn tho and make him stay with you so u knw he's resting too lol

-you're laying with your face in the crook of his neck while he's tracing little patterns on your back, focusing on making sure he isn't pressing too hard or anything like that

-it takes him a while to notice the newer, quieter noise alongside your little breaths. it's shaky and kinda fades in and out, unsteady with lack of use but as SOON as he realizes what it is he has to stop himself from kissing you right then and there or waking you up with some trill or whatever

-it makes him so so happy knowing he's probably one of the few people you've purred around and that you feel comfortable enough to, he's riding the high for the next few days and he keeps thinking about it ,,,, hope u like purring bc he's gonna try and make you do it again and again /hj

Phobos

-ur probably an agent / soldier of his who ranks real high, ur kinda like his second in command or whatev its called. same kinda deal ; ur way too stressed and constantly in fear of your life being taken to really chill out enough to purr. he doesn't do it very often either except when he's watching some plan of his come to fruition or when he's asleep ,,,

-he's gotten used to ur guys' relationship being pretty professional (aside from the banter and the fact that he definitely doesn't care this much about someones hobbies or interests if they arent you and that he most certainly wouldn't ask one of his soldiers were doing if they werent you, of course) and so he just kinda. randomly notices it. ur both just hanging out and talking with one another and it just clicks that 'huh. ive never heard them purr'

-it makes him a little insecure SFHFRJVSWVSFKEF 'what do you MEAN you aren't so head over heels for me that you're little more than a purring content little mess for me, what am i doing wrong .' like at first he doesn't think too deep on it but then he just keeps remembering and it keeps putting him on edge

-he tries his best to get you to purr as soon as he can but like ,,, it just doesn't work ,,,, even having dinner with him or something your brain is still vaguely just kinda in danger / kill mode on the back burner of itself. it just makes him dig himself deeper lol

-BUT. there's a specific night where you're just kinda staring out one of the windows in your guys' little shared home of sorts. no real reason or anythign behind it you're just kinda. looking down at the scenery. the distant lights of the city outline you in color and luminescence like a halo and he's just kinda stuck staring at you from across the room

-after a breath or two he's walking over and wrapping his arms around your waist and tightening his grip till you're pulled up securely against him. as he's placing a little kiss between your shoulder and your neck he notices the sound and freezes up immediately

-he has to like. process it for a solid minute or too. hope u arent the type to get nervous / paranoid bc it's!!! a little nerve wracking for ur bf to hear u purr for the first time and then just go into like shock abt it with no comment or anything for a solid few minutes

-you know you're good though when he's tightening his hold on you further and you can feel his teeth against your skin as he buries his face into the crook of your neck with a grin

[scarlet-fantasies]

i don’t wanna be greedy but ur werewolf eren headcanons we’re so good 😫 can i pls get some more 😂😂 like maybe pregnancy headcanons or something? thank u ❤️ also i love ur blog sm i always find myself rereading ur work <3

Hi anon(s),

No you're completely fine. I'm so glad you liked them. And of course you can. And awww thank you, I'm touched. Don't ever feel like your asking for to much I love writing about Eren soooo much.

-Scarlet.

Prompt

Requests are open

::Related Works::

Eren as a werewolf bf w human gf

Yeager brothers as werewolves

Werewolf Eren with pregnant gf (human)

Gosh, I'm so happy to finally write this. Ugh so cute.

Okay so let me just say this, Werewolf Eren is horny all the time so it's no surprise that you became pregnant at one point.

Probably with being with him for a while, like maybe even a couple years in a relationship and just having an epic love with him.

Now I think you probably thought having a kid with a werewolf was either impossible or that the chances were just so slim so you probably never thought about pregnancy since well no one said a damn thing.

And Eren didn't think of it either even tho he knew you could he just assumed you knew.

Also, let me just say that you are probably having more than one kid at once cause, werewolves reproduce like dogs so prepare for some pack of kids. So at least twins, lol.

Tho it could be a rare chance if you only have one.

Anyways let's talk about how you found out:

You had been feeling sick for a whole week and you and Eren assumed it was just your period attacking you before it would show up or that you just caught a bug of some sort.

Though by now in the second week you weren't sick but more or so just different. You had so much energy, it even surprised Eren.

Everything about you was heightened, cause werewolf babies give you side effects obviously.

So yes you were energetic and probably a little stronger than you were.

But the biggest thing that made you worry was when Sasha pointed out how you didn't fit your dress/sweaters the same way you did. When you were getting ready with her and Mikasa.

"I don't know Y/n, something about you is different. I'm not saying your fat tho." She'd clarify making you laugh.

"No, no its fine . . . but I have been eating a little more. I honestly, can't help it."

"Really? Anything else?"

"Yeah, I have a lot of energy and I don't work out but I feel stronger. By the way, is hot in here?" You'd explain, fanning yourself.

Seeing werewolves are always warm your body heat mixed with a baby that is part wolf might make you feel a little hotter.

"Oh my gosh, Y/n!" Sasha and Mikasa would exclaim looking shocked.

"What?!" You'd look at them worried.

"You're pregnant!" They both shouted, screaming and hugging you.

After some explaining and acceptance of your pregnancy, you began to connect all the dots and no longer doubted it. You were happy but worried about what Eren would say. Of course, you had to tell him.

You kept it secret for a few days seeing you're worried and unsure of how to tell him. Tho it all happened so unexpectedly, seeing that he came home early he caught you reading a baby name book Mikasa gave you.

“Hi y/n what are you reading?” He’d look over as you were hiding the book from his sight. Well trying to.

“Hi y/n what are you reading?” He’d look over as you were hiding the book from his sight. Well trying to.

“Ahh nothing—just some b—“

“Baby names?” He'd ask, grabbing the book from your hands.

“I—Eren I can explain. . . I didn’t think it would happen or that it could but-“

“You’re pregnant . . ?” He’d ask with a little smile.

“Yeah, i didn’t—“

“Took you long enough.” He’d joke, grinning at you.

“Eren Yeager. What is that supposed to mean?’ You’d sass.

“Whatever you want it to mean.” He’d tease before kissing you.

He’d pull away, “I’m so glad I wasn’t wrong about this.” He’d grin putting a hand on your belly.

“You knew?”

“I suspected. You were acting different. . . and you, a little bit of weight gain.” Hearing this you’d gasp before he clarified.

“Which is exactly what you needed. I’m really glad we’re going to have babies.” He’d smile bringing you in a hug and kiss your head.

Taken back his words you’d say, “Um Eren, it’s only one. We’re having one baby.”

“Babe I hate to break it to you but werewolves never have just one kid. That's like really rare.”

“What!?”

“We have multiple.”

“S-so then how many am I going to have?!” You'd look at him with wide eyes.

“Probably 6—-or four! I don’t know. But please tell me you want them too?” He saw your worry and tried to scare you less.

“Yes of course I want them. I just don’t know how this is all going to work. I’ve never been a mom, let alone for more than one kid.”

“Y/n it’s going to be fine. Let’s take this slow, alright? I’m going to call my dad tomorrow so he can check on you and I’ll be there too. Sasha knows a lot about this too, so don't worry.”

His dad is probably a doctor still, but as a cover-up.

So yes you two were excited obviously they explained to you what changes you may feel and obviously what not to do but seeing you didn't have a lot of issues you didn't think you'd have a lot of side effects, at least not in the beginning.

But that later on changed and Eren still loved you nonetheless even tho your anger may have increased seeing that you were probably carrying 2+ children in you.

I mean you could definitely break down a door with all the strength you have now, you could probably even break people's bones and beat up whole men (depending on how strong you are of course).

Any you know since there little wolves the anger only doubles and triples in you. So you need to be relaxed since your emotions are very unstable.

Your eyes probably turn orange sometimes for only a second, it’s like a small flash. And it’s only when you get mad.

Eren's taught you a lot about controlling it but he knows the struggle. He usually makes sure you're not mad so that you don't get carried away. But with anger comes emotions, so you are also probably very emotional too.

"Y/n, it's fine."

"No, it's not."

"Hey, look at me." He'd say softly, towering over you with his height.

You shook your head whilst looking at him with teary eyes. "Eren, I can't do this anymore. I never w-wanted to be a werewolf which is exactly w-why you didn't turn me, and now all these side effects basically classify me as one and I-I don't want that. It's s-so hard. I get angry so fast, I have so much energy that I can't sleep, I'm hungry, my nails keep getting longer, I can hear so many sounds and I feel so much pain. I'm out of control--I don't even know how you're keeping up with me. Even Zeke can't handle me when you leave him to babysit." You'd cover your hands with your face only to cry being so overwhelmed with the millions of things you were experiencing.

He'd pull you into a hug and shower you with kisses."Shhh, hey, look at me. It's going to be okay. You have me, and I know what to do. So no matter what happens it's going to be okay. You're not out of control, you're just pregnant." He'd reassure you.

Now apart from being really angry and emotional, you also might be hungry and everything you feel in your pregnancy is double what a human would feel so just imagine how annoying that could be.

Though Eren completely understands and allows you to blame him for all this. And trust me you'll definitely want to blame him for your hair growing out faster which means you shave a lot more frequently.

"This is so annoying, I'm waxing almost every day, lucky if it's only every week." You'd complain, sitting on a chair whilst Eren was crouched down putting on the waxing cream on your legs.

"Correction, I'm waxing them for you." He'd remind teasing you.

"That's your fault for making me pregnant." You'd cross your arms.

"Oh really? So it's my fault that this happened?" He'd grin whilst putting the strips on your legs.

"You're the one with a high--Ow! Eren!" You'd wince as you felt him rip off the strip unexpectedly. It didn't hurt too much but it hurt.

"What was that, sweetheart?" He'd laugh.

"You're such an ass. I hate you." You'd whine.

"I love you more." He'd laugh before kissing you and your belly.

Another side effect is that your sex drive has gone up so you are either as horny as Eren or worse. 😂

So he sees a side he doesn't normally see, and even tho you can have sex during your pregnancy he doesn't always want to cause he thinks he'll hurt you, so you might be sexually frustrated and after some convincing, he might cave and actually just do it with you.

"Eren." You'd whine whilst sitting on his lap and kissing his jawline.

"Hey, what's gotten into you?"

"What, I can't kiss you?" You'd flash him an innocent smile.

"No---wait a minute."

"Hm?" You'd hum whilst kissing him a slightly grinding on him.

"Are---Are you horny right now?"

You'd pausing hearing this made you blush, you were never the horny one in the relationship, it was always him. Now things were changing and let's just say it made you a little awkward.

"I---I uh--Gosh, stupid side effects." You'd groan getting off him only for him to pull you into his lap.

“Baby don’t be shy . . . You know, as cute as it is you know I’m worried about you getting hurt right?” He’d frown, wanting to meet your needs but still worried.

“But Eren I’m fine. Nothing's going to happen.”

“Babe nothings going to change my mind. It’s still a no.”

“Fine, I’m going to bed then. I guess I bought that lingerie for nothing.” You’d mention getting up from his lap and heading to your room.

He’d come up behind you with a change of heart. “Hmm, on second thought why don’t you show me. I’ve been dying to see you these couple of months.”

If it wasn’t enough for him you’d probably strip in front of him all the time when you were alone with him to get his attention and it works.

Because of the side effects, you have to stay away from Wolfsbane and sliver. They won’t kill you but it will hurt you.

Now apart from the side effects let’s talk about the cute stuff but maybe strange things.

Because your babies are werewolves, I picture you have 3 or 4. And so let’s just say they kick a lot. And it hurts but something that scared you but also made you emotional is that you got to see one of your children’s handprints against your belly. You told Eren to come in the room right away while you were getting ready to change. It was a very cute moment for you both. And Eren definitely took a picture.

Apart from all the crazy things you deal with during the pregnancy, there are very loving moments for you and Eren.

Like when he kisses your baby bump, or how he talks to his kids.

Even when he says he loves you both and how everyday before he leaves he kisses you and your stomach.

He always talks about what they could be named.

Loves to listen to the heartbeat of his children too. He can probably tell which one is which and has already gotten names for them.

He helps you change clothes or even carries you. And even feeds you if you allow him.

If your reading a baby book you’ll find that he stares at you and thinks you look cute carrying his babies.

He made a nursery with the help of his friends and you love him for it.

Okay so the labor, I’ll be general with it but it hurt a lot. The contractions had you screaming it honestly may have even scared him. Seeing your outburst of a scream so sudden.

Your anger can also take over during this time. And things can get out of hand so obviously, it’d have to be a natural birth and probably not at a hospital so you only have the help of his friends and family.

He held your hand of course and he told you to breathe and he was worried about you. But it was a success.

After lots of pain and having your eyes change color once again😂😂.

Though if Eren wasn’t around I could totally see his brother being there for you since he probably likes you in this au and well your family by this point so you matter.

Anyways when the babies were born you both were just so happy. You were obviously relieved when you got to hold them and probably even cried from being overwhelmed.

You two learned the basics and whatnot and took turns on taking care of them at night. You probably fell asleep in the nursery chair a couple times too bc you were exhausted and Eren always found jt cute so he used to carry you and put you to bed.

In the mornings when you would hold one of your babies, seeing it was your first one that woke up from a nap you were spending time with it (hence the photo above) Eren found the sight of you with his child to be so adorable.

He helps you with feeding them, bathing them, etc.

But he won’t it admit but he likes it when you breastfeed them. But not in a sick way.

He loves watching you nurture them and how you worry for them. And he does the same and he worries about you see that you put your babies first and hardly think of yourself now.

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