#while happily writing other dynamics with my other partners

[thanflowers]

most recently i've only received anon hate on my tav bg3 blog for *checks notes* talking about my muse's relationship with astarion.

[myfictionaldreams]

hiiiii, this is my first time ever doing a request and you’re my favourite fanfic writer ever so I thought I’d give it a go…

Would you ever write for Bucky x reader x Wanda? It’s been my dream to read something with this dynamic forever and I feel like if anyone could do it it’s you💚

I’m a sucker for hurt/comfort so was thinking maybe something along the lines of them helping the reader through a sub drop after a particularly intense sesh…

Obviously no pressure and I just want to say again how much I love your work!!!

⁀➷ Soft Place to Land // Wanda/Bucky x F!Reader

Summary: When your emotions spiral, Bucky and Wanda remind you what it means to be truly seen and cared for.

Requested by: This was fun to write, and I haven't written Bucky/Wanda before! Thank you for the request xx

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, fluff, subdrop (!), anxiety, comfort, threesome (f/f/m), multiple orgasm, restrained, squirting, creampie, aftercare

Words: 2.7k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

There were days when you could happily skip along without a care in the world, but then there were also those days when your brain wouldn’t slow down.

Everything buzzed, every sound too sharp, every silence too loud and suffocating. You’d barely spoken all day, just continued with the mundane tasks in a haze of anxiety and self-pressure you couldn’t explain.

By the time you stepped into the apartment, you felt like you might snap in half if anyone looked at you too closely as you sloppily removed your shoes into a messy pile by the door.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Wanda greeted softly from the kitchen, holding a mug in her hands. She tilted her head, the auburn shift in her hair tumbling over her shoulder as she studied you. “Rough day?”

You nod, too tired to do much more. You didn’t trust your voice not to crack. Before you can process anything else, arms wrap around your waist from behind—warm, solid arms, one flesh and one cool metal.

“Hey, baby,” Bucky murmurs, pressing his lips gently to the crown of your head. His smell instantly consumed you, all leather and cologne. “You didn’t text.”

“Didn’t want to bother you,” you say in a breathy, quiet voice, resting back against his chest, already seeking the comfort you had been anxious to pursue.

He snorted, his arms tightening. “You never bother me. That brain of yours playing tricks again, Doll?”

You nod, swallowing the thick lump that had formed in your throat. It felt silly. Nothing specific had happened, but everything felt wrong. You didn’t know how to explain it without sounding like a mess.

Wanda crossed the room quietly, setting the mug down before cupping your face in both hands as you fight the tears threatening to spill. “Do you want words or quiet?”

Sniffing, you grip onto her wrists, needing further touch to ground you. “Quiet, please.” You say it in a barely audible whisper.

“Come here,” She tugs gently on your hand and guides you to the couch, Bucky following, sitting beside you while Wanda curls into your other side, a thick cream blanket thrown over your lap. 

The three of you fit together like a puzzle piece. Bucky, with his cooler hand resting on your thigh beneath the blanket, his thumb rubbing slow, comforting circles whilst Wanda lay her head against your shoulder, her fingers lightly tracing shapes along your arm.

For a while, no one spoke. It gave you the much-needed break just to breathe. The warmth and comfort were enough to have the overwhelming need to cry, to ease until you’re able to take a deep breath without the lump in your throat. 

“You don’t have to do everything alone, y’know,” Bucky said eventually, turning into your body further to kiss your cheek. “You’ve got two train professionals in comfort right here.”

That coaxed a tiny laugh out of you, which earned a smile from both of your lovers.

“You don’t have to be perfect to be loved either, if you need a break from the world, just call. What’s the point in having two hero partners if we can’t get you out of work when you ask?” Wanda adds, her voice a soft hum against your neck.

Your body melts into them further, your chest easing a little more.

“Let us take care of you tonight,” Bucky insisted whilst squeezing your thigh.

Wanda’s fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt, gliding over your warm skin. “We’ll take it slow, so let your mind go quiet.”

That promise sent a shiver down your spine. You didn’t know how they did it, how they always seemed to know what you needed. But in their arms, the edges dulled. You didn’t need to explain or present; they always knew everything about you.

By the time they got you to the bedroom, the tension in your body had gone soft. You weren’t trembling anymore – but you weren’t steady either. You were clay in their hands, breath hitching as Bucky tugged your shirt over your head and Wanda unfastened your bra with deft fingers.

They were being purposefully careful, almost like you were something precious.

“Lie back, baby,” Bucky encourages whilst brushing a kiss over your jaw. “We’ve got you.”

You obeyed without a word, lying back on the soft duvet as Wanda climbed up beside you. She leaned down to kiss you, slow and deep, with her soft lips brushing against yours. Her hand slipping into your hair, anchoring you, her nails gently scratching against your scalp. Her lips tasted like honey and coffee, and something darker, something dangerous in the best way.

When she pulled back, Bucky was already kneeling between your legs, his metal hand stroking slowly along your sensitive inner thigh until your legs opened in response.

“Colour?” he asked, voice low but serious as he began to lower onto his knees.

Meeting his intense blue eyes, you say, “Green.”

“Good girl.”

Your breath audibly hitched at his words.

Wanda smirked slightly and looked down at you from where she rested on her fist. “Let go, beautiful,” she insisted whilst trailing her fingertips down your torso. “You’ve been holding yourself too tight all day. We’re going to pull it out of you.”

Bucky eased your underwear down slowly. “Spread for us, Doll. Let us see how pretty you are.”

You did. Then your back arched as you gasped as Bucky’s mouth descended to your pussy without warning. Hot, steady and overwhelming. Hungry. Wanda kissed your exposed neck as you writhed, whispering praises into your skin.

“So sweet for us. So wet already. She missed this, didn’t she, Bucky?”

“God, yes,” Bucky growled against your clit. “Look at her already shaking.”

You couldn’t stop moaning and whimpering their names. Your fingers reached for something - anything - until Wanda caught them gently and laced them with hers. 

“You don’t have to hold on or ask permission. Fall, we’ll catch you, Sweetheart.”

Your orgasm hit too fast, too hard, your hips bucking desperately as Bucky sucked your clit throughout. But he didn’t stop, in fact, he added two warm fingers, curling them in time with the pulsing of your cunt.

“Bucky, wait– I can’t–”

“Yes, you can,” he said, voice assertive and dominant. “You're going to come again for me, for Wanda, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t answer as your eyes shut as the overwhelming sensation eased and was replaced by that beautiful pleasure building and building in your abdomen.

Wanda sweetly kisses your temple. “Don’t be afraid of what you feel. Give in to it, let it all go.”

As Bucky continued to move his fingers in and out expertly and as his mouth worked your clit, your thighs quaked. You sobbed into Wanda’s shoulder, overwhelmed already. She held you, continuing to talk you through it. “That’s it. I know it’s a lot, it might even hurt a little, but focus on that good feeling.”

The second orgasm slammed into you, and you cried out. Messy, sloppy noises came from between your legs as you squirted over Bucky’s face, unable to control your body. But they didn’t stop.

With one last lick up the length of your cunt, Bucky pulled away only long enough to slide up beside you and kiss you hard, tasting yourself on his wet lips. “One more,” he grunted. “You’ve got one more in you, I know you do.”

“I–I can’t–”

“You can,” Wanda interrupts your pathetic moans, her voice soft and hypnotic. With a simple wave of her fingers, red shadows formed knots around your wrists, easing them above your head as she used her powers to hold you to the bed. “Let us take control. You’ve done enough.”

You whimpers, tears blurring your vision, but you didn’t say no. Didn’t want to say no because you wanted them to look after you.

Bucky rolled you onto your side, thigh resting high on his waist and eased his throbbing cock inside you slowly, groaning at the tight head. You arched, overwhelmed by the feeling of being so full when you were already so raw.

Wanda spooned you from behind, one hand sliding between your legs to rub lazy circles over your clit as Bucky thrust into you, slow and deep.

It was too much and yet it was perfect, being completely consumed and surrounded by the two people you loved most.

“Remember what we said? Just let go for us, baby,” Bucky grunted between thrusts. “Cum around me. Cum one more time for your girl and me.”

You sobbed as the third orgasm tore through you, your body locking up before melting into theirs completely. Wanda kissed your tears away while Bucky groaned and joined you in the euphoria.

Your body collapsed into theirs, trembling, sweat-soaked, wrists still bound but muscles limp.

“Fuck,” you croaked, “I think I’m broken.”

Wanda eased back on her powers as Bucky massaged your arms, returning them to your side as they continued to hold you close.

“You didn’t break, you were beautiful for us,” Wanda whispered against your neck.

And for a moment, the world went quiet. Silent. All heavy breathing and thumping heart rates.

Then a different silence overcame you. The eerie kind. The kind that settled like a dog in your chest and wrapped itself around your ribs. You lay between them, your body boneless, skin flushed and damp with sweat, muscles soft from release, but something was off.

You felt far away. Your heartbeat was too fast, loud in your ears, thudding like it didn’t know the scene was over.

You tried to speak. Wanted to say you were not okay, that you needed water, or that you just wanted to be held tighter to stop the panic. But as your lips parted, nothing came out.

Your fingers twitched but didn’t lift.

A cold tremble started in your legs and worked its way up slowly, shaking your shoulders, your jaw. You blinked, eyes unfocused, a sudden weight pressing down on your chest like something wrong had happened. There was no explaining it, just a heavy, aching emptiness where your warmth used to be.

And then: panic.

Not loud, dramatic panic. Just that quiet internal unravelling, like something inside you was slipping, spiralling, and there was nothing to grip onto.

Tears welled in your eyes without warning. It wasn’t even that you were sad, but there was something broken. Your breath hitched. Then again and again.

You didn’t even realise you were crying until Bucky sat up and brushed his fingers beneath your eye.

“Doll?”

His voice was so soft and comforting, but it cracked open the dam inside of you. You squeezed your eyes shut, chest rising and falling too fast now.

Bucky turned toward Wanda, tension immediately rising in his body. “Wands–She’s dropping.”

Wanda was already moving, her body curved around you, her hand pressing lightly to your chest, just over your heart. “Shh, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” she uttered, brushing damp hair away from your forehead. Her magic danced at her fingertips instinctively, cooling her body down and helping her breathing start to slow. “You’re okay, just come back to us.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” you finally sob, your voice hoarse. “I-I feel sad and broken.”

“You’re not broken, doll,” Bucky insisted firmly. “You’re just crashing, as that was a lot. You gave us everything, and sometimes your body needs time to come back.”

He grabbed the soft robe from the edge of the bed and wrapped it around your shoulders, pulling you into his lap like you weighed nothing. His warm chest against your back grounded you.

Wanda tucked herself in at your side again, laying a cool palm against your cheek.

“You did so well for us,” she said sweetly, kissing your shoulder. “This sadness, this hollow feeling, it's just your nervous system resetting. It’s not your fault. You're not alone in it.”

The reassurance cracked your composure wide open. Your tears came harder now, and you clung to Bucky’s arm around your waist like a lifeline.

“I can’t make it stop,” you choked out.

“You don’t have to stop it.” Wanda rubbed firmly across your back. “Let it move through you, let us hold it with you.”

Bucky kissed your temple. “You’re not too much, okay? I’ve been there. I know what this feels like. We’ve both got you.”

The tremors didn’t stop straight away. Even tucked between the two of them, even swaddled in the soft robe and their love, you still felt that eerie ache inside.

But not once did they let go.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I feel this way,” you whispered, completely and utterly exhausted.

Wanda firmly held your chin, tilting your face until she was looking you dead in the eyes.

“Don’t ever apologise for how you feel. You opened yourself completely to us. You are so safe right now.”

Bucky pressed a long, warm kiss to the top of your head. “This part’s just as important as the rest. Let us take care of our girl.”

He wrapped his vibranium arm around your back and stood effortlessly, cradling you against his chest. “You’re not going far,” Wanda said, trailing behind as Bucky stood with you in his arms, into the cosy little sunroom off the bedroom. 

The space was dim with soft, golden light and a worn couch that practically begged to be collapsed into. Bucky settled down with you on his lap again, propping your legs across his thighs.

Wanda returned moments later with that same big fuzzy blanket from earlier and a steaming mug in each hand. She passed you one with a gentle smile on her beautiful face.

“Chamomile with honey. You love this one when your chest feels tight.”

You took it with trembling fingers. Bucky helped guide it to your lips. The warmth hit your tongue, and something in your chest uncoiled. Wanda oversaw you. “Do you want me to check your heart rate?” she asks softly.

You nod.

Wanda’s fingers brushed your wrist, magic tingling gently and red, and she closed her eyes for a second. “Still high,” she announced, not worried, just aware. “But it’s coming down. You’re doing beautifully.”

“I don’t feel like I am,” you say quietly into your drink.

Bucky’s jaw tightened. “Hey.” He took the mug from your hand and set it down. “Look at me.” You did, with some reluctance. “You are so fucking brave, Doll. You gave yourself to us completely, and now your body catches up. That doesn’t make you weak, that makes you real, this real.”

Wanda leans in, her nose brushing yours. “You don’t have to be strong right now. You just have to be here, with us.”

Leaning back against her chest, Wanda wraps her arms around your middle and hums quietly, soft little notes of Sokovian lullabies into your ear.

Bucky reached down and pulled your legs into his lap again, rubbing long, slow circles into your thighs. Then your calves and ankles, repeatedly.

“Tell us what you need,” he says. “Or just nod, we’ll do the rest.”

You blinked slowly. “I… I don’t want to think. Just stay, please.”

“Then we’re not going anywhere,” Wanda confirmed.

She reached down beside her and pulled out one of the pre-packed snack hits she always made sure to keep around for you.

“You’re low,” she said gently, popping a piece of fruit into your mouth and smiling as you chewed. “This’ll help your brain catch up.”

You let her feed you. Let Bucky wrap the blanket tighter around all three of you. Let them hold you, rock you gently, like they had all the time in the world.

Minutes passed, and eventually it became easier to breathe, your chest stopped aching, and your hands stopped trembling. You sagged fully into Wanda’s arms, your head tucked beneath Bucky’s chin, the sound of his heartbeat in your ear.

“I think I’m back,” you whispered at last.

Wanda kissed your temple. “You never left, sweetheart.”

Bucky smiled against your hair. “But we’ll always come to find you if you do.”

[mrs-delaney]

Exploration

🏈 Joe Burrow x Y/N | 14k-ish words

request: Hi, whenever you have time, and if you want, could you write a Joe story?(He single and enjoying his single life with girls and meets the main character (because she moved to Cincinnati or something), who's bisexual, has a girlfriend, but they're in an open relationship (and things start to happen with Joe. She knows she's bisexual but she's never tried it with a guy because she's never been attracted to anyone enough.

P.S.: Personally, I'm also part of the community, but the first male crush that makes me feel something is Joe, and I'd like to see a story like that. 😊

Author’s Note: I was so excited to write this one. As someone who identifies as pan, it meant a lot to explore a story that reflects the fluidity of attraction and the possibility of something unexpected feeling totally right. I also really loved writing a dynamic where an open relationship isn’t about drama or conflict, but trust and support—and that it still ends happily, with everyone respected and cared for. That kind of softness and emotional honesty feels rare sometimes, and I wanted to write something that holds space for it.

This has barely been edited, so please forgive the mess. I was just too excited to get it out. Thank you for reading. Thank you for requesting this.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: read my other stories :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: join my taglist :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

💭 talk to me sweet

Y/N Y/L/N adjusted her polo shirt one more time as she walked through the parking lot of Camargo Club, grateful she'd chosen comfortable golf shoes over anything with heels. Three weeks into her new role as Community Impact Director at the Tri-State Food Bank, and she was still getting used to representing the organization at events like this. Back in Portland, she'd known every donor, every partner, every face in the room. Here in Cincinnati, everything felt fresh and slightly overwhelming.

The Joe Burrow Foundation's annual golf tournament and luncheon was her first major networking event, and she was determined to make a good impression. The foundation had been one of the food bank's most consistent supporters, and Y/N had spent her first few weeks getting up to speed on their partnership through grant applications and impact reports, but she'd never met Joe himself.

She pulled her phone from her purse as she approached the clubhouse, checking for any last-minute messages from Alex.

Alex: How's the schmoozing going? Remember, you're amazing at this even when you feel like you're not.

Y/N: Haven't even started yet. Wish me luck.

Alex: You don't need luck. You need to remember that you're passionate about what you do and that's infectious. Also, if anyone's rude to you, I'll fly there and fight them.

Y/N smiled at her phone. Even from two time zones away while Alex finished wrapping up her own work in Portland, her girlfriend had an uncanny ability to calm her nerves. They'd been together for three years, and Alex had been nothing but supportive when this opportunity came up—even encouraging Y/N to take the leap despite the temporary long-distance situation it would create.

The clubhouse was busy with activity as Y/N checked in, receiving a name tag and information packet. The morning golf portion was already underway, but the networking lunch was where she needed to focus. She'd prepared talking points about the food bank's current initiatives and had memorized statistics about food insecurity in the tri-state area, but mostly she hoped to make genuine connections with people who cared about the same issues she did.

"Y/N Y/L/N?" A woman in her fifties approached with a warm smile. "I'm Robin Burrow. We've been emailing back and forth about today's event."

"Robin! It's nice to finally meet you in person." Y/N shook her hand, immediately feeling more at ease. Robin had been nothing but welcoming in their email exchanges, and there was something naturally maternal and approachable about her in person.

"How are you settling in? Big change from Portland, I imagine."

"It is, but good so far. Everyone's been really welcoming, and I'm excited to dig into the work here. The need is significant, but so is the community support."

"That's exactly what we like to hear. Come on, let me introduce you to some folks. The golfers will be coming in soon for lunch, and then we'll have the presentation portion."

Robin led her around the room, introducing her to local business leaders, other nonprofit directors, and foundation staff. Y/N found herself relaxing into the conversations, her passion for the work overriding her nervousness about being the new person in the room.

"The food bank's mobile pantry program has been incredible," she found herself explaining to a group of potential donors. "We're able to reach communities that might not otherwise have access to our main distribution center. Last month alone, we served over fifteen hundred families through the mobile units."

"That's incredible," said one of the men, a local restaurant owner. "What's the biggest challenge?"

"Honestly? Awareness. People think of food insecurity and picture homelessness, but the reality is that one in eight people in our region faces food insecurity. That includes working families, seniors on fixed incomes, college students. It doesn't always look like what people expect."

The conversation continued, and Y/N felt that familiar energy that came from talking about work she truly believed in. This was why she'd moved across the country—not just for the career opportunity, but for the chance to make a real impact in a new community.

"Looks like the golfers are starting to come in," Robin said, approaching the group. "Y/N, I'd love for you to meet Joe when he gets a chance. He's been really invested in understanding the impact of our donations, and I think you two would have a great conversation."

Y/N nodded, trying to ignore the small flutter of nerves. She'd googled Joe Burrow when she'd first learned about the foundation partnership, of course. Hard not to notice that he was attractive, but she'd been more focused on understanding the foundation's giving patterns and focus areas. From what she could tell, they seemed to prioritize genuine community impact over flashy PR opportunities.

She was refilling her water glass when she noticed a small group entering from the golf course. Even if she hadn't known who Joe Burrow was, she would have noticed him—something about the way he carried himself, relaxed but confident. He was listening intently to something one of his golf partners was saying, a slight smile on his face.

He looked different than in the professional photos she'd seen. His hair was slightly messy from the golf course, and there was something approachable about him that the carefully posed media shots couldn't capture.

"Joe!" Robin called out, and he looked up, scanning the room until his eyes found hers. "Come meet Y/N from the food bank when you get a chance."

He nodded, finishing his conversation before making his way over. Y/N found herself straightening her blazer again, but not from nerves this time—from something else entirely that she couldn't quite name.

"Hey," he said, extending his hand. His handshake was firm, warm. "Joe. Thanks for being here today."

"Thanks for having me. And seriously, thank you for what the foundation does for us. It makes a huge difference."

"I'd love to hear more about that, actually. My mom mentioned you just moved here from Portland?"

"Three weeks ago. Still getting my bearings, but the work is incredible here. Your foundation's support has allowed us to expand our programming in ways that are really making a difference."

Joe's attention was completely focused on her as she spoke, a kind of intentional listening that was surprisingly intense. "What kind of expansion?"

"Well, the mobile pantry program I was just telling someone about—that's partially funded by foundation grants. But we've also been able to hire two new community liaisons to help connect people with other resources. Food insecurity is often connected to other challenges—housing instability, healthcare access, employment issues. Having people who can help navigate those systems makes a huge difference."

"That makes a lot of sense. I hadn't thought about the wraparound aspect as much."

"Most people don't, which is totally understandable. When you think 'food bank,' you think food. But often the families we serve need support in multiple areas."

Joe nodded thoughtfully. "How do you measure impact on something like that? The community liaison work?"

Y/N felt herself light up. This was exactly the kind of question that showed he was thinking seriously about the work, not just writing checks. "It's definitely more complex than counting meals distributed. We track things like how many families we're able to connect with healthcare enrollment, or job placement services, or housing assistance. But we also do follow-up surveys to understand whether people feel more stable six months later, whether kids are performing better in school when their families have more food security."

"Damn, that's a lot more involved than I realized."

"It really is. Food insecurity isn't just about hunger—it's about stability, dignity, opportunity. A kid who's worried about whether there's going to be dinner at home can't focus on homework. A parent who's choosing between groceries and prescription medication is dealing with stress that affects every part of their life."

Joe was quiet for a moment, processing what she'd said. "I grew up in a small town in Ohio. Different situation, but... I saw kids at school whose families were struggling, you know? It stays with you."

There was something in his voice—not quite vulnerability, but a recognition that felt personal. Y/N found herself studying his face, seeing something beyond the confident athlete she'd expected.

"So that's why this stuff matters to you."

"Yeah, it does. I've been fortunate, obviously. But I remember what it felt like to see friends whose families were struggling, and feeling like there wasn't much I could do about it. Now there is."

There was something genuine in his voice that caught her off guard. Y/N had worked with plenty of donors over the years—some genuinely committed, others more interested in the tax benefits or social cachet. Joe fell clearly into the first category.

"Well, you're definitely doing something about it. The foundation's support has allowed us to serve an additional four hundred families this quarter compared to the same period last year."

"Four hundred families," Joe repeated, as if calculating what that meant in practical terms.

"Which translates to roughly twelve hundred people, including about four hundred and fifty children."

Joe's eyebrows raised slightly. "That's amazing."

"It really is. And that's just our organization. I know the foundation supports other food-related initiatives too."

"We do, but I'd love to understand more about your work specifically. Would you be willing to give me a tour of your facility sometime? I like to see the programs in action when possible."

Y/N felt a flutter of something—professional excitement, she told herself. "Absolutely. I love showing people our operation. I'm still getting my bearings since I'm so new, but most people are surprised by the scale and the logistics involved."

"I'd imagine. What day works best for you?"

They were interrupted by Robin tapping a microphone at the front of the room. "If we could have everyone take their seats, we'd love to get started with the program portion of our event."

"We should probably grab seats," Joe said, but he didn't immediately move toward the tables.

"Definitely. I'll send you my contact information through Robin."

"Looking forward to it."

As they made their way to their respective tables, Y/N found herself glancing back at Joe once. He was being stopped by other attendees, but when their eyes met across the room, he gave her a small smile that made her stomach do something unexpected.

She settled into her assigned seat, only half-listening as Robin welcomed everyone and began introducing the various speakers. Her mind kept returning to their conversation—not just the content, but the way Joe had listened, the thoughtful questions he'd asked, the moment when his professional composure had slipped just slightly when he'd mentioned his childhood.

When it was her turn to speak about the food bank's impact, Y/N found herself scanning the room until she located Joe's table. He was watching attentively, and something about his focus made her feel more confident as she talked about the families they served and the difference the foundation's support was making.

"The foundation's contribution this year will allow us to provide the equivalent of one hundred and twenty thousand meals to families in our region," she concluded. "But more than that, it's helping us build a stronger, more resilient community where everyone has access to basic nutrition."

The applause was warm, and Y/N felt a flush of satisfaction as she returned to her seat. This was why she loved her work—being able to connect the numbers to real human impact, to help people understand that their support was changing lives.

As the event wound down, Y/N found herself exchanging business cards and making plans for follow-up meetings with several potential new partners. The afternoon had been more successful than she'd hoped, but she kept finding herself looking around the room for Joe.

She was packing up her materials when he appeared beside her table.

"That was really good," he said. "One hundred and twenty thousand meals - that's crazy."

"Thank you. I'm excited about the partnership and what we'll be able to accomplish this year."

"About that tour—I'm serious about wanting to see the operation. When would work for you?"

Y/N pulled out her phone to check her calendar. "I'm pretty flexible this week, if you want to come by before things get too crazy. We're always busiest at the end of the month."

"How about Thursday afternoon? Would two o'clock work?"

"Perfect. I'll send you some background information so you know what to expect."

"Sounds good." Joe paused, then added, "I'm really glad my mom introduced us. It's obvious you care about this work."

"I do. It's easy to care about something that makes such a direct difference in people's lives."

"I get that. Looking forward to Thursday."

They stood there for a moment, the conversation seeming to naturally wind down, but neither immediately moving away. Finally, Joe glanced toward where some other attendees were trying to get his attention.

"I should probably..." he gestured toward the group.

"Of course. Thanks again for today."

As Joe headed back toward the other guests, Y/N made her way to the parking lot, pulling out her phone to text Alex.

Y/N: Event went really well. Made some great connections.

Alex: Told you! Details when you get home. Proud of you.

Driving back toward downtown Cincinnati, Y/N found herself thinking about the conversation with Joe, the way he'd asked questions that showed he was thinking about the work, not just going through the motions of donor engagement. It would be good to have someone so committed to understanding their impact.

She was almost back to her apartment when she caught herself wondering what Joe would think of the mobile pantry operation. And whether he'd want to grab coffee after the tour again.

The thought made her smile.

Still, as she pulled into her parking spot, Y/N found herself already thinking about what she'd show Joe on Thursday. The warehouse operations, maybe the mobile pantry prep area. She wanted him to see how much his foundation's support actually meant in practical terms.

It wasn't until she was unlocking her apartment door that she realized she'd been smiling the entire drive home.

* * *

Y/N checked her phone for the third time in ten minutes. 1:58 PM. Joe would be here any minute for the food bank tour, and she was probably more nervous than she should be for what was essentially a professional meeting. She'd spent the morning reviewing statistics and operation details, wanting to make sure she could answer any questions he might have—though she was still learning some of the systems herself.

"You've got this," she muttered under her breath, straightening the visitor badges on her desk. Through her office window, she could see the main warehouse floor where volunteers were sorting through the morning's grocery store donations. The activity helped calm her nerves.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Alex: How's the VIP tour prep going?

Trying not to overthink it, Y/N replied. It's just a tour.

Mhmm. The fact that you texted me about what to wear for "just a tour" says otherwise. You've got this, babe. Show him why you're amazing at what you do.

Y/N smiled at her phone. Alex had been nothing but supportive about this meeting, even teasing her gently about her obvious nerves. She loved that she was with someone who encouraged her to appreciate attractive, interesting people rather than feeling threatened by it.

A knock on her office door interrupted her thoughts. "Y/N? There's someone here to see you," called Marcus, one of the volunteer coordinators.

"That'll be Joe Burrow," she said, grabbing her visitor badges and heading toward the front entrance. "I'll be right there."

Joe was standing near the reception desk, reading one of the posters about food insecurity. He was in jeans and a gray hoodie, and when he saw her coming, he smiled.

"Hey," he said. 

"Hey, perfect timing," Y/N said, trying to ignore the little flutter in her stomach. "Ready to see what your foundation's support actually looks like in action?"

"Absolutely."

She handed him a visitor badge and clipped her own ID badge to her cardigan. "Fair warning—I'm still pretty new here myself, so if I don't know the answer to something, I'll find someone who does."

"That's honest. I appreciate that."

Y/N led him through the first set of doors into the main warehouse space. The scale of the operation was impressive—rows of industrial shelving stretching up to the ceiling, forklifts moving pallets of canned goods, volunteers in bright yellow t-shirts sorting donations at long tables.

"Wow," Joe said, stopping to take it all in. "This is way bigger than I expected."

"Right? When I was interviewing for the job, they told me we distribute about two million pounds of food annually, but seeing it is completely different." Y/N gestured toward the organized chaos around them. "This is our main sorting and distribution area. Most of the food comes from grocery store donations, food drives, and federal programs."

They walked deeper into the warehouse, Y/N pointing out different sections and explaining the flow of operations. Joe asked thoughtful questions—not just about the numbers, but about the logistics, the challenges, the people they served.

"So how do you decide who gets what?" he asked as they paused near a section where volunteers were packing family-sized boxes.

"Great question, and honestly, it's something I'm still learning the nuances of," Y/N admitted. "We have a client choice model here, which means families can actually shop for what they need rather than just getting a pre-packed box. It preserves dignity and ensures people get food they'll actually use."

"That makes sense. Nobody wants to feel like they're just getting whatever someone else decided they should have."

"Exactly. But it also means we need a lot more variety in our inventory, and the logistics are more complex." She paused near a volunteer who was restocking the choice pantry shelves. "Mind if we watch for a minute? I'm still figuring out how they manage the flow during busy periods."

Joe nodded, and they stood off to the side observing the organized system of clients moving through with volunteers to help when needed. Y/N found herself genuinely curious about the process, asking the volunteer coordinator questions about peak times and inventory management.

"You really are new at this," Joe said quietly, but not in a critical way. "I like that you're not pretending to know everything."

"Would that be more impressive?"

"No. This is better. Shows you actually care about getting it right."

They continued the tour, visiting the mobile pantry prep area where volunteers were loading trucks for community distribution sites. Y/N explained what she knew about the program and asked the staff member to fill in details about the routes and scheduling.

"We serve about fifteen different locations throughout the week," the staff member, Janet, explained. "Senior centers, community centers, schools. Basically anywhere we can reach people who might not be able to get to our main location."

"How do you decide where to go?" Joe asked.

"Community need assessments, requests from local organizations, that kind of thing. Y/N's actually been working on expanding our reach into some underserved areas."

Y/N felt a flush of pride. "It's preliminary research right now, but there are definitely gaps in our coverage, especially in some of the rural areas outside the city."

"What's the biggest challenge with expansion?" Joe asked as they walked back toward the main warehouse.

"Funding, mostly. Each new route means more trucks, more gas, more staff time. And then you need relationships in those communities—people who can help spread the word and coordinate." Y/N paused, realizing she was getting into details that might not interest him. "Sorry, I'm probably giving you way more information than you wanted."

"Are you kidding? This is exactly what I wanted to know. When I write a check, I want to understand what it actually does."

They'd reached the volunteer area where people were sorting through donated items, and Y/N noticed they were short-handed at one of the stations.

"Would you mind if we jumped in for a few minutes?" she asked. "I try to help out when I can, and it looks like they could use extra hands."

"Sure."

Y/N led him to a table where volunteers were sorting canned goods, checking expiration dates and organizing by type. She grabbed two chairs and explained the process—a simple but important quality control step to make sure expired items didn't make it to families.

Working side by side, their conversation became more natural and personal. Joe told her about growing up in Athens, about watching his parents work multiple jobs, about feeling lucky but never forgetting where he came from. Y/N shared stories about her previous job in Portland, about the career move to Cincinnati, about Alex and their decision to try long-distance while Y/N got established.

"That's got to be hard," Joe said, checking the date on a can of green beans. "Long distance."

"It is, but Alex has been amazing about it. She's the one who pushed me to take this job, actually. Said I'd be crazy to pass it up."

"Sounds like a good partner."

"She really is. She's actually excited about me exploring a new city, meeting new people, trying new things." Y/N glanced at Joe as she said this, wondering if he caught the subtle implication.

Joe's hands paused for just a moment in his sorting before he continued. "That's rare. A lot of people would be more possessive about that kind of change."

"Alex isn't most people. She trusts me, and she knows that me being happy and fulfilled makes our relationship stronger, not weaker."

They worked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the rhythm of sorting creating an easy intimacy. Y/N found herself hyperaware of Joe's presence beside her—the way he moved, the occasional brush of their hands when they reached for the same box, the subtle scent of his cologne.

"Y/N?" Janet appeared at their table. "Sorry to interrupt, but we've got a reporter here for that feature story about the mobile pantry program. Do you have a few minutes?"

Y/N glanced at her watch, surprised to see they'd been at the sorting table for almost thirty minutes. "Of course. Joe, I should probably—"

"Go ahead," he said. "I can finish up here."

"You don't have to—"

"I want to. Take your time."

Y/N felt that flutter again, this time at his easy willingness to stay and help rather than just observe. "I'll be right back."

The interview with the reporter took longer than expected—nearly forty-five minutes of questions about the mobile pantry program, statistics about food insecurity, and photos of the loading area. When Y/N finally made it back to the volunteer area, Joe was still there, now helping move sorted items to the appropriate storage areas.

"You didn't have to stay," she said, approaching him.

"I told you I wanted to see how this place actually works. Best way to do that is to work." He gestured to the organized stacks of canned goods. "Plus, it's kind of satisfying."

"Meditative, right? I've only been here a few weeks, but I can already see how the repetitive work would help clear your head."

They walked back toward the front of the building, the official tour portion complete. Y/N felt oddly reluctant for the visit to end, which was probably not entirely professional of her.

"So what do you think?" she asked as they reached the lobby area.

"I think I understand now why my foundation money makes such a difference. And I think you're really good at this job, even if you are still learning."

"Thank you. That means a lot, especially coming from someone who's clearly passionate about this work too."

Joe was quiet for a moment, seeming to consider something. "Can I ask you something that might be overstepping?"

"Shoot."

"Are you free for coffee? There's a place down the street, and I'd love to continue talking about some of this stuff. Maybe brainstorm about those expansion ideas you mentioned."

Y/N felt her pulse quicken. It was a perfectly reasonable request—foundation donor wanting to understand programs better. But the way Joe was looking at her suggested it wasn't entirely about the food bank.

"I'd love that," she said. "Let me just grab my jacket."

Twenty minutes later, they were settled in a corner booth at a local coffee shop, the conversation flowing easily between work topics and more personal territory. Joe was surprisingly easy to talk to—asking genuine questions, sharing his own experiences, making her laugh with dry observations about the differences between small-town Ohio and Cincinnati.

"So how long have you and Alex been together?" he asked during a lull in conversation.

"Three years. We met through work in Portland—she's a graphic designer, was doing some projects for nonprofits I was connected with."

"And she's really okay with you being here while she's still there?"

"More than okay. She's actually the one who convinced me to take the job."

"That's cool of her. A lot of people would be more worried about that kind of separation. Even if its just temporary."

"Alex isn't most people. She's very secure in our relationship." Y/N paused, then added, "We're pretty open about a lot of things."

Joe raised an eyebrow. "Open how?"

"We have an open relationship," Y/N said simply. "We trust each other completely, and we both believe that connection with other people can enhance rather than threaten what we have together."

Joe set down his coffee cup carefully. "That's... refreshingly honest."

"Is that weird to say?"

"No. I appreciate honesty. Saves everyone time and confusion."

They looked at each other across the table, and Y/N felt something shift in the air between them. Joe's eyes were steady on hers, and she found herself wondering what he was thinking.

"So you're both free to... explore?" he asked.

"We are. Though honestly, I haven't really taken advantage of that much."

"Why not?"

Y/N hesitated, not sure how much to reveal. "I guess I haven't really felt drawn to it before."

"But you're open to it?"

"I am." She met his gaze directly. "Theoretically."

Joe's smile was slow and warm. "Theoretically."

"Well," Y/N said, feeling heat rise in her cheeks, "maybe not just theoretically."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, both processing the conversation. Y/N felt nervous but not regretful about her honesty.

"This is all pretty new territory for me," Y/N admitted.

"I figured," Joe said. "For what it's worth, I'm interested in getting to know you better."

Y/N felt her heart skip. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. But no pressure. We can take things slow, see what feels right."

"I'd like that."

Joe's smile was warm and reassuring. "Good."

They finished their coffee talking about lighter topics, but the undercurrent of attraction remained, humming beneath every exchanged glance and casual touch. When Joe walked her back to her car, Y/N felt like she was standing at the edge of something entirely new.

"Thank you for today," she said as they reached her car. "The tour, the coffee, the sorting help. All of it."

"Thank you for showing me around. And for being honest about... everything."

They stood close together in the parking lot, the late afternoon sun casting shadows between them. Y/N could feel the pull to step closer, to see what would happen if she did.

Instead, Joe took a small step back, giving her space but keeping his eyes on hers.

"I'd like to see you again," he said. "Outside of work stuff."

"I'd like that too."

"How about dinner? Somewhere we can actually talk without interruption."

"When?"

"Saturday? If that works with your schedule."

"Saturday works."

Joe pulled out his phone. "What's your number?"

As they exchanged contact information, Y/N felt a mix of excitement and nervousness that reminded her of being a teenager with her first crush. Except this wasn't teenage infatuation—this was adult attraction with all its complexities and possibilities.

"I'll text you about dinner plans," Joe said.

"Looking forward to it."

Joe got into his car, but before pulling away, he rolled down his window.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"Alex is lucky to have someone who's brave enough to be honest about what they want."

As he drove away, Y/N stood in the parking lot for a long moment, processing what had just happened. She'd acknowledged her attraction to a man for the first time in her life. She'd been honest about her open relationship. She'd made plans for what was definitely going to be a date.

And instead of feeling conflicted or guilty, she felt excited.

She pulled out her phone to text Alex.

The tour went really well. Joe's amazing - so genuine about the work. We ended up getting coffee after and talked for hours.

That's awesome! I told you he'd be impressed by your passion. How was it getting to know him better?

Really good. Alex... he asked about our relationship.

And?

I told him we're open. He seemed interested in exploring that.

How do you feel about that?

Nervous but excited. That's normal, right?

Totally normal. Good for you. Talk tonight?

Definitely. Love you.

Love you too. Proud of you for being open to new experiences.

Y/N smiled at her phone, feeling grateful once again for Alex's support and encouragement. Whatever was developing with Joe, she knew she had Alex's blessing to explore it.

* * *

Y/N stood in front of her closet Saturday evening, holding up two different dresses and feeling ridiculous about how much thought she was putting into this. It was just dinner. With someone she'd already spent several hours with this week. Someone who'd seen her in work clothes sorting canned goods.

But it was also her first real date with a man, and she had no idea what that was supposed to feel like.

Her phone buzzed on the dresser—a FaceTime call from Alex. Y/N answered, propping the phone against her mirror.

"Okay, show me the options," Alex said without preamble, already settled in what looked like her favorite coffee shop in Portland.

"You don't even know what I'm deciding between."

"Babe, you've been texting me outfit updates for the past hour. I know exactly what this is about. Now show me."

Y/N held up the two dresses. "The black one is probably safer, but the blue one is more—"

"The blue one."

"You didn't even let me finish."

"The blue one makes your eyes look incredible, and more importantly, it's the one you actually want to wear. I can tell by how you're holding it."

Y/N looked down at the blue dress in her right hand. Alex was right—she'd been gravitating toward it all afternoon.

"What if I'm overdressed? We're just going to some Italian place downtown."

"Y/N." Alex's voice was gentle but firm. "You're spiraling. Take a breath."

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, phone in hand. "I don't know why I'm so nervous. It's not like I've never been on a date before."

"But you've never been on a date with a man before. That's different, and it's okay to be nervous about different."

"What if I don't know how to act? What if it's weird?"

"Then it'll be weird, and you'll figure it out. But Y/N, from everything you've told me about Joe, he seems like someone who'd make you feel comfortable being yourself."

"He does. That's what's confusing me. I keep expecting it to feel strange or forced, but it doesn't."

Y/N was quiet for a moment, processing. "I keep thinking about Thursday. The way he looked at me when we were talking. I've never had a guy look at me like that before."

"How did it make you feel?"

"Like... like I wanted him to keep looking at me like that." Y/N felt heat rise in her cheeks.

Alex's smile was warm and knowing. "That's good, babe."

"Okay. Blue dress it is."

"Blue dress. And Y/N? Have fun tonight. Don't spend the whole time analyzing everything. Just see what happens."

After they hung up, Y/N felt better. She put on the blue dress, touched up her makeup, and was ready with five minutes to spare when Joe texted that he was outside.

She grabbed her purse and jacket, took one last look in the mirror, and headed downstairs.

Joe was leaning against a dark sedan, scrolling through his phone, when she emerged from her apartment building. When he looked up and saw her, his expression shifted into something warmer.

"Hey," he said, straightening up. "You look really nice."

"Thanks. So do you."

He was wearing dark jeans and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up—casual but put-together. It was the kind of effortless style that probably took no thought for him but looked intentionally perfect.

Joe moved to open the passenger door for her, his hand briefly touching her lower back as she got into the car. It was a small gesture, polite and natural, but Y/N felt hyperaware of the contact.

"So where are we going?" she asked as he got into the driver's seat.

"This place called Boca. It's in OTR—Over-the-Rhine. Have you explored that area yet?"

"Not really. I've been meaning to, but I keep getting caught up in work stuff."

"You'll like it. Good food, not too loud. We can actually have a conversation."

The drive to the restaurant was comfortable, filled with easy conversation about Cincinnati neighborhoods and Y/N's impressions of the city so far. Joe had obviously put thought into choosing somewhere she might enjoy, which felt considerate in a way that made her chest warm.

Boca was intimate without being stuffy—exposed brick walls, warm lighting, and tables spaced far enough apart for privacy. Joe had made a reservation, and they were seated at a quiet corner table away from the main dining room.

"This is really nice," Y/N said, settling into her seat.

"I was hoping you'd like it. I figured somewhere low-key would be better for a first..." He paused, seeming to consider his words.

"First date?" Y/N supplied, amused by his hesitation.

"I wasn't sure if that's what you'd call it."

"What would you call it?"

Joe's smile was slightly crooked. "I'd call it a date. If that's okay with you."

"It's okay with me."

They ordered wine and settled into the kind of conversation that had come naturally to them from the beginning. Joe asked about her transition to Cincinnati, her impressions of the food bank's operations, her plans for the mobile pantry expansion. Y/N found herself asking about his off-season routine, his foundation work, what he did when he wasn't being Joe Burrow the quarterback.

"That's an interesting question," Joe said, twirling pasta around his fork. "Sometimes I'm not sure there's much separation between the two."

"That sounds exhausting."

"It can be. But it's also just... who I am now. Hard to turn it off."

"Do you want to turn it off?"

Joe considered this. "Sometimes. It would be nice to go to a restaurant without wondering if someone's going to ask for a photo. Or to have a conversation without thinking about whether what I'm saying might end up on social media."

"Is that what you're thinking about now?"

"No." His answer was immediate and certain. "This feels different."

"Different how?"

"Normal. Like I can just be myself without thinking about it."

Y/N felt something flutter in her chest at the sincerity in his voice. "I'm glad."

Their conversation drifted to more personal territory—family, college experiences, travel. Y/N found herself sharing stories she didn't usually tell on first dates, feeling unusually comfortable with Joe's quiet attention.

"What about you?" Joe asked during dessert. "What do you do when you're not being Y/N the community impact director?"

"Honestly? I'm still figuring that out here. In Portland I had routines, favorite places, a whole life outside work. Here I'm still exploring."

"What did you like to do there?"

"Hiking, mostly. Alex and I would drive out to the Gorge or up to Mount Hood on weekends. I miss that."

"There's good hiking here too. Different, but good. Red River Gorge in Kentucky is about two hours away."

"You hike?"

"When I can. It's one of the few things that actually clears my head completely."

"I've been trying to figure out where the good spots are around here."

"I could show you some places. If you want."

The offer hung between them, loaded with implication. It was an invitation to spend more time together, to share something he enjoyed, to continue whatever this was they were building.

"I'd like that," Y/N said.

After dinner, Joe suggested they walk around the neighborhood instead of heading straight back to the car. The evening was warm for October, and Y/N found herself agreeing easily.

They strolled down the tree-lined streets, past converted townhouses and small galleries, their conversation becoming more relaxed and wandering. Joe pointed out places he liked—a coffee shop, a bookstore, a small park tucked between buildings.

"You seem to know this area pretty well," Y/N observed.

"I bought a place near here when I first got to Cincinnati. Sold it last year, but I still like the neighborhood."

"Why did you sell?"

"Wanted something with more space. The place I have now has an actual yard, which is nice when I need to decompress."

They'd stopped walking and were standing near a small fountain in the tucked-away park Joe had mentioned. The space was quiet, lit by vintage streetlamps that cast warm pools of light on the walkways.

"This is really pretty," Y/N said, looking around.

"Yeah, it is." Joe glanced around the small park. "I used to come here sometimes when I lived in the neighborhood."

"Y/N," he said, his voice quieter than before.

"Yeah?"

Instead of answering, Joe stepped closer. His hand came up to touch her arm, just above her elbow, his thumb brushing lightly against the fabric of her dress.

"Is this okay?" he asked.

Y/N nodded, not trusting her voice. The simple contact was sending heat up her arm and making her hyperaware of how close they were standing.

Joe's other hand came up to touch her face, his fingertips tracing along her jawline. Y/N felt her eyes flutter closed at the gentle contact, her breath coming shorter.

When Y/N opened her eyes, Joe was very close, close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in his eyes, close enough to feel his breath warm against her face.

Joe leaned down and kissed her.

It was soft at first, tentative, giving her time to pull away if she wanted to. But Y/N found herself leaning into the kiss instead, her hands coming up to rest against his chest.

Joe's lips were warm and gentle, moving against hers with a patience that made her melt. This was nothing like kissing Alex—different texture, different taste, different rhythm. Where Alex was soft and familiar, Joe was firm and new and thrilling.

When they broke apart, Y/N realized she was breathing hard.

"Wow," she said, then immediately felt foolish for such an inelegant response.

Joe's smile was warm. "Good?"

"Very good."

They stood close together for another moment, Y/N processing the newness of everything she'd just felt. Joe's hands were still on her face and arm, anchoring her while she adjusted to the rush of sensations.

"That was..." she started, then trailed off.

"Your first time kissing a guy," Joe finished gently.

"Yeah. Was it obvious?"

"Not obvious. Just... different."

Y/N felt heat rise in her cheeks. "Different how?"

"Like you were really present for it. Like you were paying attention to everything."

"I was. It was... a lot to take in."

Joe's thumb brushed against her cheek. "What did you think?"

Y/N considered the question seriously. What had she thought? The physical sensation had been different than she'd expected—Joe's facial hair creating a texture she wasn't used to, his mouth firmer than Alex's, his hands larger and rougher. But more than that, it had awakened something in her she hadn't known was there.

"I liked it," she said simply. "You're a really good kisser."

"Yeah?"

"I thought it might feel strange or wrong somehow. But it didn't. It felt..." She searched for the right word. "Natural."Joe's smile was soft and genuine. "I'm glad."

He leaned down to kiss her again, and this time Y/N was ready for it. She kissed him back with more confidence, letting herself explore the newness of his mouth, the way he tasted, the way his hands felt tangled in her hair.

When they separated this time, Y/N felt more confident but also more aware of the attraction between them.

"We should probably head back," Joe said, though he didn't sound particularly eager to move.

"Probably."

They walked back to the car hand in hand, a comfortable silence settling between them. Y/N found herself stealing glances at Joe, trying to process the shift in how she saw him. An hour ago he'd been attractive in an abstract way. Now she was hyperaware of his physical presence—the way he moved, the size of his hand holding hers, the memory of how he'd felt pressed against her.

When they reached her apartment building, Joe walked her to the entrance.

"I had a really good time tonight," he said.

"So did I."

"I'd like to see you again. Soon."

"I'd like that too."

Joe leaned down to kiss her goodnight, and Y/N found herself rising up on her toes to meet him halfway. This kiss was brief but warm, full of promise.

"I'll call you tomorrow?" Joe asked.

"I'll answer."

Y/N watched from her window as Joe drove away, then sank onto her couch to process the evening. She felt energized and confused and excited all at once.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Alex: How did it go?

Y/N stared at the question for a long moment, trying to figure out how to encapsulate everything that had happened.

He kissed me, she finally typed.

And???

I really, really liked it.

I'm so happy for you! Call me tomorrow with details?

Definitely. Love you.

Y/N set her phone aside and touched her lips, still able to feel the ghost of Joe's mouth against hers.

Tomorrow she'd call Alex and try to put words to everything she was feeling. Tonight, she just wanted to sit with the newness of it all—the discovery that attraction could surprise you, that desire could be broader than you'd imagined, that sometimes the most unexpected connections were the ones that felt most right.

* * *

Y/N had been thinking about Joe's mouth for three days.

It was becoming a problem. She'd catch herself zoning out during meetings, her mind drifting back to Saturday night in that little park, to the way he'd kissed her with such careful attention. She'd touched her lips more times than she cared to admit, still able to feel the ghost of his mouth against hers.

Joe had texted Sunday morning, then called Monday evening. Their conversations were easy and warm, but underneath was a current of something that made Y/N's stomach flutter every time her phone buzzed with his name.

Which was why, when he asked if she wanted to come over Wednesday night to cook dinner together, she'd said yes before really thinking about what that meant.

Now, standing outside his house in the suburbs with a bottle of wine and her heart beating faster than usual, she was very aware of what it might mean.

Joe's house was bigger than she'd expected—modern but not flashy, clean lines and lots of windows. He answered the door in sweats and a t-shirt, socks on his feet, looking more relaxed than she'd seen him before.

"Hey," he said, smiling as he took the wine from her. "You found it okay?"

"GPS is a wonderful thing."

"Come on in. I'm making salmon, nothing too crazy."

The house was warm and inviting, decorated in neutral tones with touches that felt personal rather than professionally styled. Y/N could smell garlic and herbs from the kitchen, and there was music playing softly in the background.

"This is really nice," she said, following him toward the kitchen.

"Thanks. It's probably too big for one person, but I like having space."

The kitchen was sleek and clearly designed for someone who actually cooked. Joe had ingredients laid out on the counter—salmon fillets, vegetables, what looked like seasonings and a marinade.

"Can I help with anything?" Y/N asked.

"You can keep me company. And maybe open that wine."

Y/N found a corkscrew and opened the bottle while Joe moved around the kitchen with easy efficiency. There was something attractive about watching him cook—the confidence in his movements, the way he tasted the sauce and adjusted seasoning without measuring.

"You know what you're doing," she observed.

"My mom made sure I could take care of myself. Said she wasn't raising a man who'd live on takeout."

"Smart woman."

"She really is. You'd like her."

The comment made her stomach flutter a little.

They talked while Joe cooked, the conversation flowing as easily as it had at dinner Saturday. But there was an undercurrent of awareness now, a charge in the air that hadn't been there before they'd kissed. Y/N found herself watching Joe's hands as he chopped vegetables, remembering how they'd felt on her face.

"You're staring," Joe said, not looking up from the cutting board.

"Sorry." Y/N felt heat rise in her cheeks.

"I didn't say I minded."

When Joe glanced up at her, his expression was warm and knowing. Y/N felt that flutter again, stronger this time.

They ate at his kitchen island, the conversation turning more personal as the wine relaxed them both. Joe asked about her family, her childhood, what had drawn her to nonprofit work. Y/N found herself sharing stories she didn't usually tell, feeling safe in the cocoon of his attention.

"What about you?" she asked as they finished eating. "What did you want to be when you grew up? Before football took over."

Joe considered this. "I was actually better at basketball growing up. Thought that might be my path for a while."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but football won out eventually. Sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I'd stuck with basketball."

"Any regrets?"

"Nah. This worked out pretty well."

Y/N smiled. "Just a little."

The easy conversation made her feel relaxed, but she was also aware of the way Joe was looking at her as he stood to clear their plates.

"I can help with those," she said.

"Leave them for now," Joe said, setting the plates back down. "They're not going anywhere."

Y/N slid off her barstool, suddenly needing to be closer to him. "Good point."

Joe's eyes darkened slightly as she approached. "What are you thinking?"

They stood looking at each other across the kitchen island, the air between them charged with possibility. Finally, Joe moved around the counter to where she was standing.

"What do you want, Y/N?" he asked softly.

It was the same question he'd asked in different ways before—always checking, always making sure she was comfortable. But this time, Y/N felt more certain of her answer.

"I want to kiss you again," she said. "And I want to see what happens after that."

Joe's smile was slow and warm. "I can work with that."

He leaned down to kiss her, and this time Y/N was ready for it. She kissed him back with more confidence than she'd had Saturday night, letting herself explore the taste of him, the way his mouth moved against hers.

Joe's hands settled on her waist, pulling her closer, and Y/N felt heat spread through her chest at the contact. When his tongue brushed against her lower lip, she opened for him, a soft sound escaping her throat at the new sensation.

"Okay?" Joe murmured against her mouth.

"Absolutely."

They kissed until Y/N felt breathless, her hands fisted in Joe's t-shirt, her body pressed against his. When they finally broke apart, Joe rested his forehead against hers.

"Come sit with me?" he said.

He led her to the living room, settling onto the couch and pulling her down beside him. The room was dimly lit, warm and intimate, and Y/N felt hyperaware of every point of contact between them.

"I keep thinking about Saturday night," Y/N said quietly.

"Yeah?"

"About how it felt. How natural it was." She paused. "I keep thinking about your hands."

"My hands?"

"The way they felt on my face. On my waist just now." She gathered courage. "I keep wondering what they'd feel like other places."

Joe's breath caught slightly. "Y/N..."

"Is that too much?"

"No. God, no. I just want to make sure you're sure."

"I'm sure. I'm nervous, but I'm sure."

Joe shifted to face her more fully, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. "We can go slow. Stop anytime."

"I know. I trust you."

When Joe kissed her this time, it was deeper, more intent. His hands moved from her face to her neck, her shoulders, skimming along her arms in a way that made her shiver. Y/N found herself leaning into his touch, craving more contact.

"Can I touch you?" Joe asked, his voice rougher than before."Can I touch you?" Joe asked, his voice rougher than before.

"Please."

Joe's hands moved to her waist, then slowly up her sides, his thumbs brushing just beneath her ribs. Even through her sweater, the contact sent heat shooting through Y/N's body.

"How does that feel?" he asked.

"Good. Really good."

Joe's hands continued their exploration, mapping the shape of her through her clothes with a patience that was both torturous and perfect. When his thumb brushed against the side of her breast, Y/N gasped.

"Still good?"

"Still good."

Y/N's own hands had found their way to Joe's chest, marveling at the solid muscle beneath his t-shirt. Everything about touching him was different than touching Alex—broader, harder, unfamiliar in a way that made her want to explore more.

"Can I..." she started, then tugged at the hem of his shirt.

Joe pulled the shirt over his head without hesitation, and Y/N felt her mouth go dry. She'd seen him shirtless in magazines and on TV, but seeing him here, in person, touchable, was entirely different.

"Jesus," she breathed.

Joe's laugh was low and pleased. "Good?"

"Shut up, you know it's good," Y/N said, putting her hands on his chest, exploring the planes of muscle, the texture of his skin. Joe's breath hitched when her fingers traced along his collarbone, and the sound sent a thrill through her.

"Your turn," Joe said, his hands finding the hem of her sweater.

Y/N felt a moment of nervousness—this was further than she'd ever gone with a man—but she nodded. Joe pulled her sweater off slowly, giving her time to change her mind. But Y/N didn't want to change her mind. She wanted to see what it felt like to be touched by him, to discover this new territory of her own desire.

"You're beautiful," Joe said, his voice soft with appreciation.

Y/N felt exposed but not uncomfortable. The way Joe was looking at her—with genuine admiration and barely restrained want—made her feel powerful in a way she hadn't expected.

"Touch me," she said.

Joe's hands were warm against her skin, tracing patterns along her ribs, her shoulders, the line of her collarbone. When his mouth followed the path of his hands, pressing soft kisses to her throat, Y/N felt her head fall back against the couch cushions.

"You taste good," Joe murmured against her neck.

Y/N was quickly losing the ability to form coherent thoughts. Every touch, every kiss was new and overwhelming and not nearly enough all at once. When Joe's mouth found that sensitive spot just below her ear, she made a sound she'd never made before.

"I like that sound," Joe said, his breath warm against her skin.

"I like what you're doing to make me make it."

They kissed and touched until Y/N felt completely undone, her body aching with need and hypersensitive to every brush of his hands. Joe’s touch was confident but reverent, slow and deliberate, like he was learning her by heart. His mouth dragged along her neck, down to her collarbone, his stubble rough against her skin in a way that made her breath hitch. When his hand slipped under the band of her bra and found her breast, she gasped—his palm was warm, his thumb circling her nipple until it tightened under his touch. He watched her face as he touched her, like he wanted to see every reaction, memorize every sound she made.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Y/N felt like she was seeing the world differently.

"Fuck," she said, still breathing heavily.

"Still good?"

"I'm good, I promise." Y/N looked at Joe, taking in his disheveled hair, his swollen lips, the way he was looking at her. "Joe?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I understand now. What I was missing."

"What's that?"

"This feeling. This... wanting." She paused, trying to find the right words. "I always thought I just wasn't attracted to men. But I think maybe I just hadn't met the right man."

Joe's smile was soft and genuine. "I'm glad it was me."

"Me too."

They stayed on the couch for a while longer, talking quietly, sharing soft kisses, Y/N's head on Joe's shoulder. There was an intimacy to it that felt both new and natural, like they were settling into something bigger than either of them had expected.

"I should probably head home," Y/N said eventually, though she made no move to get up.

"You don't have to."

"I know. But I think I need some time to process all of this."

"I understand."

Joe helped her find her sweater, then walked her to the door. They kissed goodnight on his front step, a long, slow kiss that left Y/N's knees weak.

"When can I see you again?" Joe asked.

"Soon," Y/N said. "Very soon."

On the drive home, Y/N called Alex.

"Hey babe," Alex answered. "How was dinner?"

"Life-changing," Y/N said without thinking.

"That good, huh?"

"Alex, I think I'm really attracted to him. Like, I'm attracted to a man."

"I can hear the smile in your voice. Tell me everything."

Y/N found herself sharing details she might have kept private before, but Alex's enthusiasm and support made it easy to be open.

"How do you feel about all of this?" Alex asked when Y/N finished.

"Excited. Nervous. Grateful that you're okay with me exploring this."

"Babe, I love seeing you discover new things about yourself. It doesn't threaten what we have—it makes you more you."

"I love you," Y/N said, meaning it completely.

"I love you too. Now get some sleep. You sound exhausted."

"Good exhausted."

"The best kind."

As Y/N got ready for bed, she caught herself smiling in the bathroom mirror. Her lips were still slightly swollen from kissing Joe, and she looked... different somehow. More alive.

* * *

Y/N had made it exactly three days before texting Joe again.

Not that she was counting, but Friday afternoon found her staring at her phone, trying to compose a message that didn't sound as desperate as she felt. She'd been thinking about Wednesday night constantly—the way Joe's hands had felt on her skin, the sounds he'd made when she'd touched him, the way her body had responded to his attention in completely new ways.

Are you free tonight? she finally typed, then immediately deleted it.

Want to hang out tonight? Delete.

I can't stop thinking about you. Delete, delete, delete.

Her phone buzzed with an incoming text from Joe: Been thinking about you. Want to come over tonight?

Y/N stared at the message. Thank god. Yes. What time?

Whenever you want. I'll cook again.

7?

Perfect.

Y/N spent the rest of the afternoon in a state of nervous anticipation. She knew where this was heading—they both did. The question wasn't whether they'd end up in bed together, but how it would feel when they did.

She called Alex during her lunch break, needing to talk through her nerves with someone who understood.

"I think tonight's going to be the night," Y/N said without preamble when Alex answered.

"The night for what?" Alex asked, though her tone suggested she already knew.

"You know what."

"I want to hear you say it."

"I think Joe and I are going to have sex tonight."

"How do you feel about that?"

"Terrified. Excited. Like I might throw up."

Alex laughed. "That sounds about right for a first time. What are you most nervous about?"

"What if I don't know what I'm doing? What if it's weird? What if I don't like it as much as I think I will?"

"Babe, breathe. First of all, from everything you've told me about Joe, he's not going to judge you for being inexperienced with men. Second, you're allowed to not like things. You're allowed to ask for what you want. And you're definitely allowed to stop if something doesn't feel right."

"I know. Logically I know all of that."

"But?"

"But this feels really important. Like it's going to tell me something fundamental about myself."

"It might. Or it might just be good sex with someone you're attracted to. Both are okay."

Y/N took a deep breath. "You're right."

"I usually am. Now go have fun, be safe, and call me tomorrow with all the details."

"All the details?"

"Okay, maybe not all the details. But I want to know how you're feeling afterward."

"Deal."

Y/N arrived at Joe's house at seven on the dot, carrying a bottle of wine and trying to calm her racing heart. Joe answered the door looking relaxed and gorgeous in jeans and a simple button-down shirt.

"Hey," he said, smiling as he let her in. "You look nervous."

"I am nervous."

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I'll get it together."

Joe leaned down to kiss her hello, and Y/N felt some of her tension ease at the familiar warmth of his mouth. When they broke apart, he studied her face.

"We don't have to do anything you're not ready for," he said. "No pressure."

"I know. That's part of why I'm here."

They had dinner—salmon and vegetables again, because Joe said he'd been perfecting the recipe—and talked about their weeks. The conversation was easy, but Y/N could feel the undercurrent of anticipation between them.

"You're thinking really hard about something," Joe observed as they finished eating.

"I'm always thinking."

"What about specifically?"

Y/N set down her wine glass and looked at him directly. "About whether you're going to kiss me again tonight. About whether I want you to do more than kiss me. About whether I'm ready for that."

"And what are you deciding?"

"That I want to find out."

Joe's expression softened. "You sure?"

"I'm sure I want to try. I'm sure I trust you. I'm sure I'm attracted to you in ways I didn't know I could be attracted to anyone."

Joe stood and extended his hand. "Come here."

Y/N took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. He kissed her softly, thoroughly, his hands settling on her waist.

"If you want to stop at any point, you tell me," he said against her mouth. "Promise me."

"I promise."

Joe led her upstairs to his bedroom, and Y/N felt her heart racing. The room was clean and simple—dark furniture, white sheets, big windows. It looked like him.

"Second thoughts?" Joe asked, noticing her pause.

"No. Just... taking it in."

Joe sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her to stand between his legs. His hands rested on her hips, thumbs tracing small circles through her dress.

"We can go as slow as you want," he said.

"What if I don't want to go slow?"

Joe's eyes darkened. "Then we don't go slow."

Y/N leaned down to kiss him, putting all of her want and nervousness and curiosity into the contact. Joe's hands tightened on her hips, pulling her closer, and Y/N felt heat pool in her stomach.

"Can I undress you?" Joe asked when they broke apart.

"Yes."

Joe's hands were careful and reverent as he helped her out of her dress, pressing soft kisses to newly exposed skin. Y/N shivered under his attention, amazed at how different it felt to be undressed by a man—his hands larger and rougher than Alex's, his approach both gentle and possessive.

Joe let her undress him slowly, her hands exploring the broad planes of his chest, the definition of his arms, the line of hair that disappeared beneath his jeans. Everything about his body was different than what she was used to, and she found herself fascinated by the contrasts.

"You're staring again," Joe said, his voice amused.

"I'm learning."

"What are you learning?"

"That I really like looking at you. Touching you."

Joe groaned softly and pulled her down onto the bed with him. They kissed and touched until Y/N felt dizzy with want, her body responding to Joe's attention in ways that surprised her.

"How are you feeling?" Joe asked, his mouth against her neck.

"Like I understand what people write songs about now."

Joe laughed, the sound vibrating against her skin. "That good?"

"That good."

Joe's hands and mouth continued their exploration, finding places that made Y/N gasp and arch against him. When he asked permission before touching her more intimately, Y/N nodded eagerly.

"Yes. Please."

The first touch of Joe's fingers between her legs made Y/N cry out softly. The sensation was familiar but somehow completely different—his fingers longer and more insistent than Alex's, his approach confident in a way that made her melt.

"Feel good?" Joe asked, his voice rough.

"So good. God, Joe."

Y/N pulled Joe down for a kiss, tasting herself on his mouth and finding it incredibly erotic. Her hands moved to his jeans, fumbling with the button.

"Can I?" she asked.

"You don't have to—"

"I want to. I want to touch you."

Joe helped her get his sweats off, and Y/N felt her mouth go dry as she took in the full sight of him. She'd felt him through his clothes, but seeing him naked was different—bigger than she'd expected, harder, undeniably male in a way that made her stomach clench with want.

"You okay?" Joe asked, noticing her pause.

"Just... fuck."

Y/N reached out tentatively, wrapping her hand around him and marveling at the way he felt—warm and smooth and solid. Joe's breath hitched at her touch, and the sound gave her confidence to explore more boldly.

"Like this?" she asked, experimenting with different pressures and rhythms.

"Yes. God, yes."

Y/N found herself fascinated by Joe's responses—the way his breathing changed, the sounds he made, the way his hips moved seeking more contact. It was powerful knowing she could affect him like this.

"Y/N," Joe said, his voice strained. "I want to be inside you."

The words sent a jolt of heat through her. "I want that too."

Joe reached for protection, and Y/N watched as he put it on, her heart racing with anticipation and nerves.

"You sure?" he asked one more time.

"I'm sure."

Joe positioned himself above her, and Y/N felt her breath catch as she felt him against her. This was it—the moment she'd been both wanting and nervous about.

"Look at me," Joe said softly.

Y/N met his eyes as he pushed into her slowly, carefully. The sensation was intense—a fullness and stretch that was completely different than anything she'd experienced before. Joe paused, letting her adjust, his face tight with restraint.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Okay. Yeah, okay."

Joe began to move, slowly at first, letting Y/N get used to the rhythm and sensation. It was overwhelming in the best way—different than she'd expected but exactly what she'd needed.

"Feel okay?" Joe asked, his voice rough with effort.

"Yeah. Keep going."

As Joe's movements became more confident, Y/N found herself lost in sensation. This was what she'd been missing, what she'd been curious about. Not just the physical mechanics, but the emotional intensity of being connected to someone this way.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Joe said, his forehead pressed against hers.

Y/N could only moan in response, her body building toward another climax. When Joe shifted the angle slightly, hitting something inside her that made her see stars, she cried out.

"Right there?"

"Right there."

Joe maintained that rhythm until Y/N fell apart beneath him, her orgasm even more intense than the first. The sensation of her climaxing around him pushed Joe over the edge, and he came with a groan, his face buried in her neck.

They lay tangled together afterward, both breathing hard. Y/N felt overwhelmed and satisfied and amazed all at once.

"How was that?" Joe asked eventually.

"Life-changing," Y/N said, echoing what she'd told Alex after their first dinner. "Seriously."

Y/N turned in Joe's arms to face him. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being patient. For making it good. For helping me figure this out."

Joe's smile was soft. "Thank you for trusting me with it."

They talked quietly for a while, Y/N processing everything she'd just experienced. It wasn't just that the sex had been good—though it had been incredible. It was that she finally understood what she'd been missing, what her body was capable of responding to.

"I should probably head home," Y/N said eventually, though she made no move to get up.

"Stay," Joe said. "If you want to."

Y/N considered it. Part of her wanted to stay, to see what it felt like to wake up next to him. But another part needed space to process everything that had just happened.

"I think I need to go home tonight," she said. "But can I see you again soon?"

"Anytime you want."

Joe walked her to her car, kissing her goodnight under the streetlight. Y/N drove home in a daze, her body still humming from Joe's touch.

She called Alex as soon as she got to her apartment.

"So?" Alex said without preamble.

"So I definitely like men," Y/N said. "Or at least, I definitely like Joe."

"Details?"

"It was incredible, Alex. Different than I expected but so good. I understand now why people make such a big deal about sexual chemistry."

"I'm so happy for you. How do you feel?"

"Like I discovered a whole new part of myself. Like everything makes more sense now."

"That's beautiful, babe. I'm proud of you for being brave enough to explore this."

"Thank you for being okay with it. For encouraging me."

"I love you, Y/N. All of you. Including the parts you're still discovering."

After they hung up, Y/N lay in bed thinking about everything that had changed. A month ago, she would never have imagined she'd be here—sexually satisfied by a man, understanding her own bisexuality in a completely new way, grateful for the support of her girlfriend as she explored attraction she'd never known she possessed.

* * *

Three months later

Y/N was laughing so hard she could barely breathe, clutching her stomach as Joe continued his story about a play call gone wrong during practice.

"And then coach is screaming from the sideline, right?" Joe said, gesturing with his beer bottle. "But nobody can hear him because the music's too loud, so half the team runs the wrong route and I'm just standing there with the ball like an idiot."

"Oh no," Alex said from her spot on the other end of the couch, grinning. "Please tell me someone got that on film."

"Of course they did. It's probably still making the rounds on the internet."

They were sprawled across Joe's living room on a lazy Sunday afternoon, the remnants of the brunch Joe had made scattered across the coffee table. Alex was visiting for the weekend—her first trip to Cincinnati since Y/N had moved—and Y/N had been nervous about how this dynamic would work in person.

She shouldn't have worried. Alex and Joe had hit it off immediately, bonding over their shared amusement at Y/N's tendency to overthink everything and their mutual appreciation for good coffee. Watching them together, Y/N felt a warmth in her chest that had nothing to do with the mimosas they'd been drinking.

"I still can't believe you've been hiding cooking skills this whole time," Alex said to Joe. "Y/N made it sound like you lived on protein bars and takeout."

"Hey," Y/N protested. "I said he could cook fish. I didn't know about the whole Sunday brunch situation."

"Man of mystery," Joe said with a shrug, but his smile was warm.

The easy banter between the three of them was exactly what Y/N had hoped for. Over the past few months, things with Joe had settled into something she hadn't expected—close and comfortable, but not complicated.

They'd continued sleeping together for about six weeks after that first night, exploring Y/N's newfound attraction with an enthusiasm that had surprised them both. But gradually, naturally, things had shifted. Y/N had started dating other men—tentatively at first, then with growing confidence as she understood what she was looking for. Joe had been nothing but supportive, even helpful in navigating the sometimes complicated world of dating as someone in an open relationship.

"I should probably get going soon," Alex said, checking her phone. "Flight's soon."

"I'll drive you," Y/N said, starting to gather the dishes.

"Actually," Joe said, "would it be weird if I tagged along? I want to hear more about this gallery opening you're working on."

"Not weird at all," Alex said. "I'd like that."

An hour later, they were standing in the airport terminal, Alex's bag checked and her boarding pass in hand. Y/N felt the familiar tug of sadness that came with these goodbyes, even though Alex would be moving to Cincinnati permanently in just two months.

"This was really great," Alex said, pulling Y/N into a hug. "I'm so glad I finally got to spend real time with Joe."

"What do you think?" Y/N asked quietly.

"I think he's exactly what you said he was. Good for you, supportive, genuinely cares about your happiness." Alex smiled. "And I think you two have figured out something really special."

Over Alex's shoulder, Y/N could see Joe standing a respectful distance away, scrolling through his phone to give them privacy. The sight of him—patient, considerate, completely secure in his place in her life—made her chest tight with affection.

"I really love him," Y/N said, surprising herself with the admission.

"I know you do. And he loves you too, just maybe not in the way either of you expected."

Alex was right. What Y/N felt for Joe wasn't the same as what she felt for Alex, but it wasn't less meaningful. It was something else entirely—a deep friendship built on trust and discovery, seasoned with attraction but not defined by it.

"Thank you," Y/N said. "For being okay with all of this. For encouraging me to explore. For never making me feel like I had to choose."

"Babe, you never have to thank me for loving all of you."

After Alex's plane took off, Joe and Y/N drove back toward the city in comfortable silence. Finally, Joe spoke.

"She's really great."

"She is."

"I can see why you love her."

Y/N glanced at him. "How are you feeling about everything? The whole weekend, I mean."

Joe was quiet for a moment, considering. "Good. Really good, actually. It's nice to see you with her, to understand that part of your life better."

They pulled into Y/N's apartment complex, but neither made a move to get out of the car.

"Joe," Y/N said. "Can I ask you something?"

"Always."

"Are you happy? With how things worked out between us?"

Joe turned to look at her fully. "You mean am I disappointed that we're not dating exclusively?"

"I guess that's what I'm asking."

"Y/N, what we have is better than what I was expecting when I first asked you to dinner. You're one of my closest friends. You trust me with things that matter to you. We helped each other figure out things about ourselves we didn't know before." He paused. "Why would I be disappointed in that?"

"Because most people would want more. Or different."

"I'm not most people. And what we have isn't less than a traditional relationship—it's just different."

Y/N felt tears prick her eyes, overwhelmed by gratitude for this man who had helped her discover so much about herself and asked for nothing but her friendship in return.

"I love you too, you know," she said. "Alex was right about that."

"I know. I love you too."

"Different than Alex, but just as real."

Joe nodded. "I feel the same way."

They sat in the quiet of the car for another moment, both processing the weight of what they'd just acknowledged.

"So what happens now?" Y/N asked.

"Now you keep dating interesting people and figuring out what you want. I keep being your friend who you can call when you need to complain about bad dates or celebrate good ones. Alex moves here and you two build your life together. And we all hang out and drink too much and argue about whether pineapple belongs on pizza."

"It doesn't belong on pizza."

"See? This is why we work as friends."

Y/N laughed, feeling lighter than she had in weeks. "You're a pretty great friend, you know that?"

"I mean, I'm probably the best friend you'll ever have, but yeah."

Y/N leaned over to kiss Joe's cheek. "Omg. Thanks. For all of this."

"Thanks for trusting me with it."

As Y/N walked to her apartment, she felt good about how everything had worked out. It wasn't what she'd expected when she'd first met Joe, but it was exactly what she needed.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Alex: Landed safely. Joe's a keeper—as a friend and whatever else you two decide. Love you.

And another from Joe: Thanks for a great weekend. See you Thursday for that hiking trip?

Y/N smiled as she responded to both messages. Thursday's hike was with David, a teacher she'd been dating for a few weeks who shared her love of the outdoors. Joe had recommended the trail and offered to give David some pointers about the best routes.

Six months ago, Y/N would never have imagined her life could look like this—happily committed to Alex, confidently exploring her attraction to men, supported in that exploration by both her girlfriend and the man who'd helped her discover it. It wasn't conventional, but it was honest and loving and exactly what she needed.

As she got ready for bed, Y/N reflected on how much had changed since that first foundation event. She'd moved to a new city, started a new job, discovered new things about her sexuality, and built relationships she couldn't have predicted. Most importantly, she'd learned that love and connection didn't have to fit into neat categories to be real and meaningful.

Her phone lit up with one more text, this one from a group chat Joe had started with her and Alex: Next time I'm making pancakes. Y/N's in charge of coffee. Alex can provide commentary on our questionable life choices.

Deal, Alex replied almost immediately. But I want blueberry pancakes.

Obviously, Joe responded.

Y/N typed back: You two are never going to let me live down burning that one batch of pancakes, are you?

Never, they replied in unison.

Y/N fell asleep smiling, surrounded by love in all its beautiful, complicated forms.

[thinkingotherwise]

Hey hey! If you're taking requests could i request headcanons for sakura, kiryu, suo and sugishita(if its too much you can chose just two of these characters) reacting to their s/o confessing they used to be apart of a gang and that they can fight really well.

Thank you!

It's not headcannons but short stories but I hope it's still fine. It was so fun to write. Just imagining how badass the reader could be and the dynamics between the reader and their previous gang members.

Haruka Sakura, Mitsuki Kiryu, Hayato Suou, Kyotaro Sugishita x prev Gang Leader! reader

Haruka Sakura

You were supposed to meet up with Haurka a few minutes ago but well there were some more pressing matters you had to take care of. The moment you came near your meeting spot you heard an argument, a pretty loud argument and then the glass shattering.

Immediately you ran toward the sound turning the corner into some alley and your eyes were met with two groups fighting with each other. Your eyes widened slightly when you recognized the jackets of one of the groups as your previous gang. One of the guys saw you and cried your name in excitement before being punched in the face and you flinched at that almost feeling it. The sound of your name brought more attention to you and you didn't think twice before jumping in the fight to help your friends from the gang out.

At the same time, Haruka came to the meeting place late and he was surprised to see you were not yet there. He looked at his phone but there was no message from you either. He was about to call you when some young boy came running to him. "Hey, you're from Bofurin, right?" "Yeah, what? You got a problem?" He asked ready to defend himself but the frightened look on the boy's face got him alerted. "There's a fight going on. I think they are from some gangs but they might move to the streets soon." The young boy spoke quickly grabbing Haruka's sleeve and dragging him in the direction of the brawl.

Your partner ran, quickly taking over the shorter boy, and turned into the alley where he heard grunts coming from. He expected a lot of things but you punching some guy, twice as big as you, was not one of them. Haruka stood frozen watching you expertly beat up the guy before throwing him over your shoulder and kicking for good measurement.

When the last guy was on the ground the few guys dressed in similar jackets yelled happily crowding you and patting your shoulders singing praises. "Y/n, what the hell was that?!" Your boyfriend yelled running up to you and you pushed some of the guys away to have a clear view of him. "Oh, Haruka don't worry we already took care of everything." You said trying to calm him down but he was more concerned about you fighting and possibly getting hurt. "Are you alright? Any bruises?" He asked stepping closer to you and looking over you checking if you're alright.

When he saw you weren't injured he processed what you said before his eyes glared around you and on the several guys surrounding the two of you. "Who are these guys?" "Oh right. Guys, this is Haruka Sakura, my boyfriend." At these words, several oh's and ah's echoed around you, before you rolled your eyes at them and moved further with the introductions. "Haruka these are my friends from my previous gang." You said nonchalantly smiling at him at the thought of your past with them. "Gang? Wait yours? Like you were a part of gang or-" He was cut off by one of the gang members.

"(Y/n) was our leader before they left." The others nodded confirming the statement and Haruka's shocked expression made you scratch your cheek while laughing awkwardly. "You were a gang leader." Your boyfriend thought saying the words out loud would help him accept it was true, as well as seek confirmation from you. "Oh right, I forgot to tell you, surprise." Your smile was forced and you hoped he wouldn't be mad at you for omitting confessing something like that before you started dating.

When Haruka didn't say anything but just stared at you, your hand reached toward him and pinched his arm. In return, he slapped yours lightly frowning at you. "Ouch sorry don't hit me. I really forget to tell you." You told him once more and he sighed deeply before turning away from you and mumbling. "When we get back you'll tell me all about it." You smiled softly happy he wasn't that mad and nodded. "Sure I will."

Mitsuki Kiryu

It was getting rather dark outside when you decided to finish your small date with Mitsuki and go home. You left the small establishment with his voice filling you in on the new game that was releasing in a few days.

Suddenly something, or rather someone, bumped into you trying to run past and push through the crowd, a few people behind him. Your quick reflexes would be useful if they worked fully as you didn't fall down but your bag got ripped from your hands and met the ground. Your gasp was accompanied by one of the guys pushing you away and almost stomping on it.

"Move it!" The voice sounded very familiar to you and when you looked at him you noticed one of your friends from the past. Mitsuki tried to grab and stabilize not to let you fall but you moved away from him and grabbed two of the guys stopping them. "What the-" "Ey!" Their yells alerted the three others as they came to a stop and ran back to them. They were ready to throw hands but when they saw your unimpressed face glaring at them they gasped and stepped closer to you. "Oh (Y/n), long time no see." One of them happily greeted and the others nodded set on hugging you.

But what they received was different. You sighed before smacking each of them on their head as they yelped. Mitsuki stepped closer to you curious about your strange behaviour but also prepared to protect you if they decided to punch you. "Why are you running like that idiots, can't you be more careful with people around?" You said your voice firm ready to lecture them while you crouched to grab your bag before dusting it off. "Sorry boss, we got a call from Tachizo to get there for the meeting." The tallest boy said and another added. "We had to be quick."

For people around you, it seemed like they were explaining themselves to their parent who was scolding them and they wouldn't be far from the truth, as during your gang times you felt like a single parent of unruly kids. You pinched your nose looking at them and some of them gulped ready for another lecture but you just sighed again. "I see then be more careful from now on." You said and they nodded. "And greet him from me." You added as they got ready to run along to their meeting. "Got it, boss." They called before disappearing trying to move more carefully through the crowds.

"(Y/n), are you a yakuza by any chance?" Mitsuki asked reminding you of his presence. "Yakuza? No, I was a leader of a small gang and these were some guys from the team before I left and Tachizo took after me." You explained turning to him. "You were a gang leader?" He asked taking your hand in his and moving in the direction of your home.

You were worried he might take it the wrong way but seeing that he didn't really mind it brought you immense joy. "Yes, just before we started dating, but it was taking too much time from me and I wanted to spend more of it with you." You explained and Mitsuki tightened his hold on your hand smiling at you. "So you want to tell me my partner used to be a gang leader?" He muttered to himself and you quickly confirmed. "Yes." "That's so cool, did you have some cool jacket or some band." He asked and you the whole walk home by talking about your past with the gang.

Hayato Suou

Suou stood in front of you trying to protect you from some thugs that as soon as they saw that he wore Bofurin uniform went wild. Your boyfriend took a protective stance keeping you away from them and gracefully beating them up.

Suddenly one of the guys came from the side while his friend was still struggling with your partner. He thought you would be an easy target seeing as the only thing you did was stand behind and observe what was happening. Little did he know, you did so only because Suou was very worried about you and you didn't want to disturb him from his fight, causing him more stress if you were to fight beside him.

He rushed for you swinging his fist in your direction. You stepped back grabbing his forearm and pulling him to you. Your right hand quickly turned into a fist as you took a swing and punched him in the stomach. He bent over and you used this opportunity to kick his leg making him stumble. Your foot curled back as you pushed his shoulders and he hit the ground.

As you sight and corrected your tousled hair, you heard a groan behind you and turned to see Hayato finish the other guy. He looked at you with a glint in his eyes as he observed you the whole time from the corner of his vision. He was ready to help you but you surprised him positively and he walked closer to you with a grin forming on his face. "Where did you learn how to fight like that?" He questioned as he moved his head left and right to check if you were hurt. Hayato still worried even though he saw you expertly take the guy down. "Were you secretly some part of a gang?" He asked jokingly not knowing your past as you didn't tell him previously.

You didn't really want to tell him yet, as you were still unsure about how he would react, but it was now or never, it seemed. "Actually yes." You sighed your hand moving to the back of your neck as you started feeling nervous. "The small gang in the suburbs have you heard about it." You added deciding to confess about your past. "That's funny, (Y/n)." He replied petting your head and you groaned at him trying to swat his hand away.

You expected a lot of things from him, but denial wasn't one of them. "It's true, we were a neighbouring gang and some elders still recognize me, as I was the leader." "Mhm.." He hummed and you sighed. You grabbed his hand your fingers tangling into his as you stopped him and turned to face him. "Really, I'm not joking. We used to be together but when we went to different schools we decided to disband." You tried to convince him.

His eyes bored into yours, his head tilted slightly and he nodded once. "Fine, I'll believe you." He replied kissing your forehead before starting to walk your hand still in his as he pulled you after him. "You better-" You muttered as he cut you off showing you his grin. "But you need to show me some more of your moves"

Kyotaro Sugishita

Kyotaro followed after you to your room and you left him to look around while you went for some drinks. When you came back he stood in front of your wall where several pictures were pinned.

You placed the drinks on your desk and he took notice of you turning to you before looking back to the image that interested him the most. "Is that you?" He asked pointing at one of the photos you had hung on the wall. You came to stand beside him and looked closely at the picture he pointed. "Oh that's a picture from almost two years ago, I was a part of the gang in my town before moving here." You remembered smiling when you saw your younger self with the rest of your gang all of you wearing your iconic one-coloured bandanas around your arms, yours being the only exception as it had your gang initials sawn on it.

At the memory, your thoughts went to the said clothing and you moved to your wardrobe taking it out and handing it to Kyotaro. "Huh?" He asked taking the bandana in his hands and his gaze moved from it to the photo. "They gave me the band after I left to have like a reminder of being the leader." You explained. "Leader? Like Umemiya?" He asked curiously and you laughed at that. "I was far from being such a good leader like Umemiya but we had fun, and the guys write to me from time to time to ask how's it going." You said fondly looking at the photos and didn't notice Kyotaro's gaze stuck on you as you started thinking back to the time when you were the "boss" of your little group.

You picked one of the photos off the wall and showed it to him pointing at your beaten-up face and the others, who didn't look better. "This one is from when we tried to catch some thieves and jumped through the fence into the garbage can." You recalled the memory behind the photo and chuckled to yourself just thinking about the situation and how troublesome it was for the younger you. "Did it hurt?" Kyotaro said softly looking at you, showing his soft side reserved especially for you. "Yeah, but I got over it, and we did catch them so all ended up good." You responded joyfully your fingers running through the photo.

Suddenly you straightened up and put the photo away before turning to your boyfriend. "Actually I got a scar because of that, here." You said rolling up your sleeve and showing him the scar present on your arm near the wrist. His gaze fell down and he looked worriedly at your hand. The next moment, he took it in his hold and moved closer kissing your forearm just where the scar was. "Oh, you.. Kyo?" You flushed trying to grab the hand away from him but he only leaned closer. "You were brave, I think you were a great leader." His words almost gave you a heart attack and you felt so accomplished and grateful for them.

Taglist: @misticbullet

[mononijikayu]

“all that i am, when i’m around you” — gojo satoru.

Satoru blushes at the fact that he was so bold to do that. He groaned to himself, his hands on his head. He purses his lips. But it felt good. It felt good to make you flustered. It felt good to make you feel a deep sense of contentment, just being with you. Just being silly around you. These moments, these small, everyday interactions, were what made his life with you so special. It wasn’t about grand gestures or dramatic changes—it was about the quiet, simple moments that you shared together. Gojo Satoru felt that he was all he was, when he was around you.

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, family, comfort, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, mention of breastfeeding, mention of postpartum effects, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: all that i am by mirdjo

NOTE: i was gone for a while and i still haven't written, sorry about that. i recently lost my dog and i really couldn't do anything. but today is the jjk chapter drop, so i decided to write something. this was comforting to write, because gojo satoru is a comfort. i'm doing a bit better now. we will be back on schedule soon enough!!! i hope you enjoy this little drable!!! i love you!!! <3

masterlist

u s and t h e m

IT WAS TAKING TIME TO ADJUST TO BEING MARRIED. But being married to you wasn’t so bad, or at least that’s what Gojo Satoru thinks. He looks at you as you hum that tune from the radio — preparing breakfast for both of you and the kids.

He had just gotten home from a mission, but you were waiting for him to come home. That was new for him. That someone was up all night worrying about him. Usually, he and Suguru went on missions together. But there wasn’t anyone waiting for him to come back, to greet him happily like you did. 

Everything has been a whirlwind of changes and emotions. One that he hadn’t expected about this. Surprisingly, you both got along well as a married couple. You didn’t act romantically, of course. There’s…there’s none of that yet. But you both cared for each other a lot, acted like a married couple would. Satoru was surprised. It was like everything fit into place now. 

The dynamic between you had shifted in subtle yet significant ways, reshaping the very foundation of your relationship. These past few months had been a period of profound transformation for both of you, discovering what could be between you now.

He was sure that slowly but surely, it was still sinking in — you took his name, you were in his house, you wore his ring. You were more in his and your life now. You were more part of his life now than ever before. You weren’t his senpai anymore, and he wasn’t your kouhai either. You were now his wife and he was your husband.

For a while, Gojo Satoru found himself in an unfamiliar territory, uncertain of what to call you. It wasn't just a matter of addressing you by your name; it was about finding the right words to encapsulate the depth of your relationship. In the past, you were his senpai, the one he looked up to with admiration and respect. Then, you became his partner, someone he leaned on for support and guidance. But now, as husband and wife, the dynamics had shifted in ways he hadn't anticipated.

He hesitated to simply call you by your first name, as if it didn't quite capture the magnitude of your connection. You were still very much not in love. It was too hard to be casual with you. It wasn’t like it was a joke like he did when he was still your kouhai. It was real now. It was very much something that was a gap he had to think about for a long while. 

Calling you "wife" felt too formal, too distant for the woman who shared his hopes, dreams, and fears. It may have been an arranged marriage, but it wasn’t as if he wasn’t an instigator. He was a willing participant, because he was fond of you. He wasn’t going to be calling you that.

Using "dear" sounded too old-fashioned, something his and your mother called your own fathers when they first married years and years ago. And "love" seemed too casual for the depth of emotion he felt for you. He wasn’t in love with you, yet. One day, maybe. But until then, he had to be able to give a name for you.

One day, Satoru approached you with a hesitant expression, his usual confidence tinged with uncertainty. "Hey, um... I've been thinking," he began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words.

You looked up from your book, sensing his unease. "What's on your mind, Satoru?"

He shifted nervously, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "It's about... what to call you, now… now that you aren’t my senpai," he admitted, his cheeks tinted with a faint blush. His eyes flickered with uncertainty as he struggled to articulate his thoughts. "It's just... I know this is really different. But it’s not easy to just call you by your name or just make up one. So I wanted to ask you about what you’re comfortable with."

You watched him with a soft smile, sensing his discomfort and wanting to ease his worries. "Satoru, you don’t really have to ask me. We’re married now," you reassured him, your voice gentle and reassuring.

But he couldn't shake off the feeling of uncertainty, the weight of tradition and habit still lingering in his mind. "I know, I know," he murmured, his gaze shifting to the ground. "But it's just... I want to make sure I'm doing this right. I want it to feel... natural."

Your heart softened at his vulnerability, your own affection for him swelling within your chest. "Satoru, there's no right or wrong way to do this," you said, reaching out to gently touch his arm. "We're in this together, remember? It's okay to feel unsure sometimes. But just know that you can call me whatever feels comfortable to you."

He looked up at you, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. "Anything?"

You nodded, a warm smile playing on your lips. "Anything."

With a sigh of relief, Satoru felt the weight of uncertainty lift from his shoulders. "Okay then," he said, a newfound determination in his voice. "I think... I think I'll stick with trying to…trying to get used to your name. For now. If that's alright with you."

Your smile widened, a surge of warmth flooding your heart. "It's more than alright, Satoru." you replied, your voice filled with love and understanding. 

He liked the way you said his name.

But he can tell, slowly but surely.

You liked how he said yours too.

In that time, as Satoru endeavored to commit your name to memory as effortlessly as breathing, he found himself grappling with the concept of you being an intrinsic part of his home. The idea of you being his home. It was a notion that seemed foreign at first, given his long-standing familiarity with solitude and transience.

From a young age, Satoru had grown accustomed to living in isolation, even within the vast expanse of the Gojo clan manor. As the heir to the Gojo clan, he had resided in his own wing of the estate, separated from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. But even within his private quarters, he never lingered in one room for long. 

The ever-present threat of assassination, a constant worry for his mother following the fate of his father, prompted her to frequently alter the layout and appearance of his living space. Rooms were rearranged, furnishings were swapped out, and on particularly paranoid days, Satoru found himself relocated to entirely different chambers. As a result, he never had the opportunity to truly imprint the features of any particular room in his memory.

Even during his time in the Jujutsu High dormitories, Satoru had maintained a sense of detachment from his surroundings. Though he had his own room, he seldom spent enough time there to form any meaningful connection to it.

With missions keeping him and Suguru occupied for days on end, and the few precious hours of rest often spent in Suguru's company, Satoru's dorm room remained as pristine and impersonal as the day he first set foot in it. Like the Gojo manor, it was a space devoid of personal significance, a transient waypoint in his journey through life.

It wasn't until he met Suguru and Shoko, and ultimately you, that Satoru began to understand the true meaning of belonging. Through your presence, he discovered a sense of stability and security that had eluded him for so long.

With you, he found a home—a place where he could be himself without fear or reservation, where memories were made and cherished, and where the bonds of love and friendship flourished. And as he reflected on the journey that had brought him to this moment, Satoru realized that he had finally found something worth remembering, something worth holding onto with all his heart.

Satoru often found himself lost in thought, reflecting on how different things were now. He loved how peaceful it had been just being around you. Even the little mundane details brought a sense of joy he hadn't anticipated.

Living together meant he saw you more than ever before, and since you weren’t going on missions nowadays, he found himself awakened to each and every day beside you, learning all these bright new facets of your personalities to light.

He noticed how you scrunch your nose when you were thinking too hard, a cute quirk that made him smile. Your bright eyes narrowed often when you focused on things, a look of intense concentration that made you look both serious and endearing.

You made a funny face when you realized something he had pointed out, a mix of surprise and amusement that was always delightful to witness. And then there was the way you smiled into your cup of coffee if it tasted good, a small but genuine expression of contentment that made his heart swell.

One morning, as he watched you prepare breakfast, he couldn’t help but just stare. You had a peculiar way of eating your breakfast. You put jam on your bread, humming quietly, and add your eggs, bacon, and the other side of the bread.  You looked so happy to eat it, grinning at how delicious it tastes for you.

The kids were already out for the day, and they would be here all day because they’re in school and there were still their after school activities. In truth, Satoru was too exhausted to get up from the bed, he did back to back missions after all. But you kept urging him to get up and eat breakfast with you. His stomach would hurt if he didn’t tell him. He can shower and sleep after.

He didn’t know if he was just too tired or if he was just out of his mind. But he felt warm inside. Just watching you eat happily. That you would make him this delicious meal. That you would push him to take care of himself. That you would take care of him. 

"You know, you have these little habits that are just... adorable." 

You turned to him, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "All of a sudden?”

“Why not? I think it’s true.”

“Oh really? How so?"

He leaned against his own chair, a playful grin on his face. "Y’know, I don’t think you know this but you scrunch your nose when you’re thinking too hard. Or how your eyes narrow when you’re focused. And that face you make when you realize something new—it’s priceless. Just know, you ate that sandwich and started nodding because you think it’s delicious.”

You looked at him flustered, eyes fluttering. "I didn’t know you paid so much attention to me, Satoru. That’s….so detailed.”

"How could I not?" he replied, leaning forward toward you. "I see you everyday. It was meant to be me learning something new about you every day.”

A blush crept up your cheeks, and you turned back to the stove, stirring the eggs. "You’re making me self-conscious now."

"Don’t be." he said softly, smiling at you gently. "I love these little things about you. They make you... you. And I like that, y’know?”

You leaned back into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. "And what about you, Satoru? What little things do you have that I should be noticing?"

He chuckled at you, standing up and walking towards you. He pats your head, your face turning redder. "I’m not sure. Maybe you’ll have to pay more attention and find out."

"......I will." you promised, turning your head slightly to meet his eyes. You were too shy now. His grin grew wider. "I’ll make it my mission to do well for you."

He smiled, his lips brushing against your cheek. "I look forward to it."

“S-satoru, you can’t just do that!” 

He laughed. “Love you too!”

“T-that….. Satoru! You're a pain in the ass!"

"But I'm your pain in the ass!"

Satoru blushes at the fact that he was so bold to do that. He groaned to himself, his hands on his head. He purses his lips. But it felt good. It felt good to make you flustered. It felt good to make you feel a deep sense of contentment, just being with you. Just being silly around you.

These moments, these small, everyday interactions, were what made his life with you so special. It wasn’t about grand gestures or dramatic changes—it was about the quiet, simple moments that you shared together. Gojo Satoru felt that he was all he was, when he was around you. 

In those moments, he realized that being married to you was more than he had ever expected. It was about finding joy in the mundane, discovering new facets of each other every day, and building a life together that was filled with love, laughter, and understanding. There were moments of tender domesticity that felt almost surreal—sharing morning coffee, debating over grocery lists, and falling into a routine that was uniquely yours.

As Satoru sat at the kitchen table, you poured him a cup of freshly brewed coffee, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "Here you go, Satoru." you said, sliding the mug across the table towards him. "Time for you to join the coffee club."

He eyed the dark liquid with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. "I'm not sure about this," he admitted, reaching out to tentatively lift the mug to his lips.

"You won't know until you try, y’know?" you teased, nudging him gently. “Go on! One sip!”

As Satoru tentatively raised the cup to his lips, anticipation mingled with apprehension. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted up to meet his nose, promising a bold and robust flavor experience. But as the bitter liquid touched his tongue, his features contorted into a grimace of pure disbelief. It was as if he had just bitten into a particularly sour lemon, his taste buds recoiling in shock at the unexpected assault.

The sight of Satoru's reaction was too much for Megumi to handle. From his position on the sidelines, he burst into laughter, unable to contain his amusement at his friend's expense. His laughter echoed through the kitchen, a joyful symphony of mirth that filled the room with infectious energy.

Despite the discomfort of the bitter taste lingering on his palate, Satoru couldn't help but chuckle along with Megumi's infectious laughter. There was something undeniably humorous about the situation, and he found himself unable to suppress a smile even as he struggled to come to terms with the unfamiliar flavor of the coffee.

Tsumiki, the epitome of kindness and compassion, didn't hesitate for a moment as she witnessed Satoru's struggle with the bitter coffee. With a swift and determined motion, she sprang into action, her nurturing instincts kicking into high gear.

"Here, let me help, Satoru–san!" she exclaimed, her voice gentle but firm as she reached for the container of sugar and the carton of cream nestled in the fridge. With practiced efficiency, she poured a generous spoonful of sugar into the mug, followed by a liberal splash of cream, expertly balancing the flavors to create a more palatable concoction.

As she stirred the sugar and cream into the coffee, a look of focused concentration settled on her features. It was clear that she took her role as caretaker seriously, determined to ease Satoru's discomfort and ensure his enjoyment of the beverage.

With a final stir, Tsumiki presented the transformed coffee to Satoru with a warm smile, her eyes shining with genuine concern and compassion. "Here you go, Satoru–san," she said softly, offering him the mug. "I hope this makes it more to your liking."

Satoru accepted the mug with gratitude, his heart warmed by Tsumiki's kindness and thoughtfulness. As he took a cautious sip of the now sweetened and cream-enriched coffee, he found himself pleasantly surprised by the transformation. The bitter edge had been softened, replaced by a creamy sweetness that danced across his taste buds with newfound delight.

"Thank you, Tsumiki," he said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. "You're a lifesaver."

Tsumiki's smile widened at his words, her cheeks tinged with a rosy hue. "It's my pleasure, Satoru–san," she replied, her gaze warm and earnest. "I'm always here to help."

He looks at you. “This is my only cup of coffee for the rest of my life.”

You chuckled at Satoru's expression, reaching out to pat his hand sympathetically. "Looks like coffee isn't for everyone," you said, trying to stifle your laughter.

Satoru nodded in agreement, his lips still puckered from the bitter taste. "I think I'll stick to hot cocoa." he said, setting the mug aside with a grimace. “This is awful!”

You laughed. “Well, I’ll make you good sweet ones, ‘toru.”

You took care of him in ways that went beyond what he had ever imagined. It was in the little things: the way you left notes for him to find, the meals you cooked together, the quiet support you offered without needing to be asked. It made him feel like a bashful boy all over again, experiencing a kind of affection and attention that was both exhilarating and humbling.

Being married, being husband and wife — this is not easy. His own mother was surprised that someone as young as him would consider it now. It was true that he had uncles that could marry you. Save you from the Zenin, the name was enough. But Satoru couldn’t admit to you then when you asked him that it was because you were you. You were all he had, now that Suguru had left him. And he couldn’t lose you too. He didn’t want to.

Satoru sat across from his mother, the weight of her words heavy in the air. "You're too young to be thinking about marriage, Satoru." she said, her tone tinged with concern. "You have your whole life ahead of you. There's no need to rush into anything."

He bit his lip, feeling the weight of her words like a physical blow. "I know, Mother." he replied, his voice strained with emotion. "But it's not that simple."

His mother raised an eyebrow, her expression questioning. "What do you mean?"

Satoru hesitated for a moment, struggling to find the right words. "I... I can't just leave her unprotected. Not when the Zenin is planning to marry her to Naoya….he’s gonna hurt her." he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "She needs someone to look after her, to keep her safe."

His mother's eyes softened with understanding as she reached out to lay a comforting hand on his arm. "Satoru, you don't have to bear that burden alone," she said gently. "You have uncles who would gladly take on that responsibility. Maybe even your cousins. You don't have to sacrifice your own happiness for hers."

But Satoru shook his head, determination shining in his cerulean eyes. "It has to be me, Mother," he insisted. "I can't let anyone else take that responsibility. I have to be the one to marry her, to care for her. No one….”

His mother sighed, realizing the depth of his conviction. "Just promise me you'll take care of yourself too, Satoru," she said, her voice tinged with concern. "Marriage is a partnership, and you can't neglect your own well-being in the process."

Satoru nodded, his resolve unwavering. "I promise, Mother," he said, a steely determination in his voice. "I'll take care of her, and I'll take care of myself. We'll make it work together. I know we will."

And as he left his mother's side, the weight of her words still echoing in his mind, Satoru couldn't help but feel a sense of determination settle in his heart. He would do whatever it took to keep you safe and happy, even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness in the process. Because for him, there was no greater priority than ensuring your well-being, no matter the cost.

Because he knew that you would take care of him.

And you would make sure he would be safe too.

You were just that kind of person to Gojo Satoru.

As Satoru sat on the couch, watching you move about the room, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander. What would the future look like for the two of you? The thought filled him with a strange mix of excitement and nervousness. There was so much more beyond the friendship that had been the bedrock of your relationship.

He imagined a future filled with shared dreams and challenges, laughter and tears, triumphs and setbacks. He saw you both growing together, learning from each other, and building a life that was rich and full. The thought of children crossed his mind—a family that was an extension of the love you shared.

Satoru smiled to himself, feeling a warmth spread through him. This was just the beginning, a new adventure that you were embarking on together. And whatever the future held, he knew that with you by his side, it would be extraordinary.

"Hey, you should start pouring your hot cocoa, Satoru," you told him, pointing the spatula towards the boiling pot. "It’ll get too soggy if you let it overboil!"

"Coming, coming," he mumbled, snapping back to reality as he stood up from the couch.

He moved to the stove, reaching for the pot of cocoa. As he poured the steaming liquid into his mug, he couldn’t help but smile at how natural this all felt. You, bustling around the kitchen, humming softly; him, doing his part to help with breakfast. It was a far cry from the life he once knew, filled with endless missions and solitary nights.

Satoru watched as you deftly flipped pancakes, your movements sure and practiced. "You know," he said, a hint of mischief in his voice, "I could get used to this. Waking up to you, having breakfast together. For the rest of my life. It’s... nice."

You glanced over at him, a twinkle in your eye. "Just nice?"

"Okay, more than nice," he admitted, leaning against the counter. "It’s... comforting. Makes me feel like I’ve finally found where I belong."

You paused, setting down the spatula and turning to face him fully. "You do belong here, Satoru. With me. With us."

He felt a lump in his throat, emotions welling up that he hadn’t expected. "I know. And it means more to me than I can say."

You smiled, stepping closer to him. "You don’t have to say it. I can see it. And I feel the same way."

He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I’m glad we have this. Us. I know it hasn’t been easy, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything."

"Neither would I," you said softly, leaning into his touch. "We’re a team, Satoru. And we’ll get through everything together."

He nodded, pulling you into a gentle hug. "Yeah, we will. And I promise to keep doing my best to be the husband you deserve."

You hugged him back, your arms wrapping around him tightly. "You already are, Satoru. More than you know."

As you both stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Satoru felt a sense of peace he hadn’t known was possible. This was his life now—filled with love, warmth, and the simple joys of being with you. And no matter what challenges lay ahead, he knew he could face them as long as you were by his side.

He pulled back slightly, looking into your lilac eyes. "You know," he began, his voice softer now, "I never thought I’d have this. A home, a family. I always figured I’d be alone, just me against the world."

You cupped his cheek with your hand, your thumb brushing against his skin. "You don’t have to be alone anymore, Satoru. We’re in this together."

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. "I know. And it scares me sometimes, how much I need this. Need you."

You smiled gently. "Needing someone isn’t a weakness. It’s what makes us human. It’s what makes us stronger."

He opened his eyes, meeting your gaze. "You’re right. And I’m grateful every day that I have you. That we have this life together."

You kissed his forehead, a tender gesture that spoke volumes. "Me too. We’re building something beautiful, Satoru. One day at a time."

He nodded, a sense of determination settling in his chest. "One day at a time," he echoed. "And I promise, I’ll be here for every single one."

You smiled, feeling the depth of his commitment and love. "And I’ll be here too, Satoru. Always."

As you both turned back to the breakfast preparations, the sense of shared purpose between you felt stronger than ever. The rhythmic clatter of utensils against pots and pans, the fragrant aroma of coffee wafting through the air—each moment seemed infused with a quiet but palpable sense of contentment.

In the simplicity of your daily routine, Satoru found himself feeling his heart beat just a little bit faster. There was a sense of profound happiness that he couldn’t quite explain, a feeling that bubbled up from deep within his chest and spilled over into every fiber of his being. It was a feeling that defied rational explanation, transcending words and logic to manifest as a pure, unadulterated sense of joy.

It was never going to be easy to explain, Satoru realized, nor did he feel the need to try. Some things were simply beyond words, existing in a realm of emotion and intuition that defied rational analysis. But it was okay—it was more than okay, in fact. For Satoru, the unpredictable nature of life was a source of excitement rather than anxiety, a reminder that every twist and turn held the potential for new discoveries and adventures.

And through it all, you were there by his side, holding his hand through every challenge and triumph. As long as you were there, he knew that nothing would ever be truly insurmountable. With your unwavering support and boundless love, Satoru felt invincible, ready to face whatever the world threw his way.

As he watched you move gracefully about the kitchen, a sense of gratitude washed over him, filling his heart to the brim. In that moment, surrounded by the comforting familiarity of home and the warmth of your presence, Satoru knew that he was exactly where he was meant to be. And with you by his side, he was ready to embrace whatever the future held, secure in the knowledge that together, you could conquer anything that came your way.

Satoru took the pot of cocoa off the stove and poured it into two mugs, handing one to you. "To us. May we be happy together." he said, raising his mug.

"To us," you replied, clinking your mug against his. You smiled at the last bit. “May we be happy.”

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of your home and the promise of your future together, you both knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful journey—one filled with love, laughter, and the simple, everyday joys of being with each other.

All that he is when he's around you.

That's all he wants to be in this life.

And you would say the same thing to him.

But he didn't have to hear you say it to him.

Your eyes tell him so much more than he needs.

epilogue

Gojo Satoru stood in his cluttered office at Jujutsu High, sighing softly. There was a baby carrier strapped to his chest with a gurgling Gojo Satoshi nestled inside. The little one wasn’t really feeling his dear beloved father’s stress. But Satoru couldn’t expect much of his little dawn. He liked laughing, being stressed free and his mama. As Satoru moved around the room, he couldn’t help but stand still. There was little place to move. 

His cerulean eyes scanned the room, which looked like a tornado had swept through. Papers, books, and miscellaneous items were scattered everywhere. This was his first year of teaching in Jujutsu High and immediately, everything was already a mess. He didn’t expect it to be this way this quickly. Satoru was good at keeping things clean most of the time. But these days, balancing fatherhood and balancing husbandry and jujutsu — he really didn’t have the time to clean. 

Satoru didn’t teach methodically, like Utahime. But he still needed a basis for what he was teaching. So he had scrolls upon scrolls he borrowed from Gojo manor and even Mikoto manor. Along with books that Yaga–sensei would be looking for by now. He wasn’t just teaching things from his gut–feeling. That would get more unnecessary yapping from the higher ups than he already was getting. Plus, you’d end up yelling at him for that. Kids were at stake after all.

He didn’t know why he decided to do this today, if he was being honest. It was really not the time. You weren’t in town right now, you went back to Kyoto for a few days at your mother’s request. Nobuhiko was going to have his first teaching class in Kyoto Jujutsu tech too. And there was the issue of a barrier somehow being down in Kyoto. You had to deal with that. Satoru didn’t want to see you off. But well, you really had no excuse now that you were off duty. 

"Megumi, Tsumiki, help me out here," he said, trying to sound authoritative but mostly just sounding tired. "Your mother is out of town, and I can't stay at home moping around."

“Gen–san’s not our mother.” Megumi rolled his eyes, picking up some of the books.

“Well she’s all you have, and I’m lonely without her. So stand your butt and help me clean this up.” Satoru touts, as he starts to roll up the scrolls. Satoshi giggled watching his father roll it up. Satoru grinned. “You like it, huh? Yeah, the sound is fun, isn’t it?”

Megumi sighs, crossing his arms to his chest. “We could be playing some video games right now. It’s a Sunday too.”

“Oh cheer up, Megumi! I’m buying us ice cream once we’re done, hm?”

Tsumiki, ever the peacemaker, smiled as she cleared up some paper into the box. "Cheer up, Megumi! This is fun.  You never know what we might find in Satoru–san’s office.”

“More trash?” He waves around a newspaper that was out of date and puts it in the box.

“Something interesting, like….like this!” Tsumiki pulls out a book on the types of cheesecake. 

“See, ‘miki has the right idea, ‘gumi~”

Megumi sighed, shaking his head. “This is hopeless.”

As they began sorting through the mess, Satoru slumped into his chair, cradling Satoshi gently. The baby giggled, tugging at Satoru's sunglasses with his tiny, curious fingers. Each time Satoru gently pried them away, Satoshi’s giggles only grew louder, echoing through the cluttered office.

"Hey, don't mess with the shades, kiddo. They're part of my charm," Satoru murmured, his usual bravado softened by the affectionate way he spoke to his son. He placed a playful kiss on Satoshi’s forehead, making the baby squeal in delight. “We don’t want to make mama panic about a new pair having to be bought, you know?”

Satoshi didn’t seem to understand, as he kept giggling. Satoru couldn’t help but grin at how mischievous his little dawn is. “My baby is such a mischievous little one, hm? I’ll have to get you your own pair, shouldn’t I? So you and papa can match the look and be cool together, hm? Ah, that would be so cute~”

Megumi sighed as he opened yet another drawer filled with random items. "What is all this junk?" he asked, his voice tinged with frustration and a hint of disbelief at the sheer volume of clutter.

Satoru waved a dismissive hand, barely glancing at the drawer’s contents. "Important stuff," he replied vaguely, focusing more on adjusting Satoshi in the carrier. "Probably."

“You can’t just say probably!” Megumi retorted back.

“Oh, it’s going to be fine~”

Tsumiki, more patient and methodical in her approach, carefully sifted through a stack of papers. Suddenly, she paused, her eyes catching on something unexpected. "Hey, what's this?" she asked, pulling out a stack of neatly folded letters tied with a red ribbon.

Tsumiki untied the ribbon and picked up one of the letters. She unraveled it and began reading aloud. 

"'My dearest darling, love of my life, the apple of my eye. This mission sucks. I really hate being here. I really wish I could just make the higher ups eat shit.  But the sooner I finish, the faster I’ll come home. You take care, hm? Eat well. Make sure Megumi still isn’t upset about the white wolf costume. We’ll get him the black one next year. Make sure Tsumiki doesn’t forget to pick up her new ballet shoes.  I miss you more with each passing day. Your absence makes the world feel gray and lifeless. I count the days until I can hold you again. Love your one and only husband that loves you in this entire world, Satoru.'"

Megumi's face twisted in discomfort. "Seriously? You wrote that? I thought there were phones by this point.”

“Writing love letters is nice, you know!” Tsumiki says, smiling as she looks tenderly at the letters. “It just shows that Satoru–san loves Gen–san! You’re such a romantic, Satoru-san!”

Satoru flushed, his face red as he was adjusting Satoshi in the carrier. "’miki’s right! And  those were private! And yes, I wrote that. So what? You've never seen a husband that loves his wife, huh?”

Tsumiki giggled, continuing to read. "'PS. Your smile is the light that guides me through the darkness. I can't wait to see it again and bask in its warmth. Forever yours, Satoru.'"

Megumi groaned. "I can't believe this. You're like a love-struck teenager.”

"Hey, I was pretty young then. And nothing wrong about it. It's called being romantic," Satoru defended himself, trying to sound dignified despite his red face. "’sides…..She liked it. And she wrote back, let me be clear! Her words are just as sappy.”

Megumi shook his head, clearly overwhelmed. "I don't need to hear this."

Tsumiki, still amused, looked at another letter. "There are so many of these. How did you have time to write all of them?"

Satoru shrugged as he also took some of the letters in hand. "I have my ways. Plus, when you're away on missions, you have a lot of time to think about what's important. I liked being home, I like being with my wife and you guys. So, that’s what’s in here.”

Megumi didn’t want to admit it. But he was very glad that Satoru wrote about them. He sighed and instead muttered under his breath. "I thought you were supposed to be the strongest sorcerer, not the sappiest."

Satoru gave a dramatic sigh. "One can be both, Megumi. One can be both. With a wife like mine? You’d be multi-tasking it all.”

As they continued to sort through the mess, little Satoshi started fussing. Satoru bounced him gently, cooing softly. "It's okay, little guy. Daddy's just getting roasted by your big brother."

“It’s well deserved slander.”

“Don’t listen to your big brother, Satoshi. Love is always winning!”

Tsumiki smiled warmly. "It's sweet, Satoru–san. Really. It's nice to see this side of you."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it." Satoru replied with a smirk, taking the letter and waving it around. "This is only for my wife and you guys. Keep it zipped. I have a reputation to maintain."

Megumi rolled his eyes again, but there was a small, reluctant smile on his face. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, sappy pants.”

“Hey, that’s not a good insult!”

As the day went on, they managed to make a dent in the clutter, uncovering more hidden gems of Satoru's sentimental side along the way. Despite the teasing and the awkwardness, there was a sense of tenderness that filled the room.

Satoru looked around at his students—his family—and felt a warmth in his chest that rivaled any love letter he had ever written. Even with the chaos, the mess, and the relentless teasing, this was his life. And he wouldn't trade it for anything.

"Alright, team," he said, standing up with Satoshi still strapped to his chest. He was giggling as he held his father’s finger. "Let's wrap this up. Who's up for some ice cream?"

Tsumiki and Megumi exchanged glances, then nodded.

"Fine," Megumi said with a sigh. "But you're paying."

Satoru grinned. "Deal. And hey, thanks for helping out today. It means a lot."

As they left the office, Tsumiki couldn't resist one last tease. "You know, Satoru–san, you should write another letter. Something like, 'Today, I survived my kids reading my love letters. Love, the strongest—and sappiest—sorcerer.'"

Satoru laughed, ruffling her hair. "Maybe I will, Tsumiki. Maybe I will."

[mimipolo]

Gagamaru x reader part 2

I didn't expect to write a part two but it was requested a while ago so I obviously did

I still adore this man ppl write for him more when NEL is animated plssssss

| ₊˚⊹ᰔ

Life continues as it did before, except it felt brighter, having someone you knew you could always talk to.

There wasn't a great shift in you and Gin's dynamic but there were several moments that solidified your slowly growing relationship, you were happy. And so, so glad you listened to your mum.

It's a bit colder now, you hug your winter coat to your body, numb fingers shoved inside your pockets depths as you make your way to the school gate. It was the end of the day plus a Friday, meaning a trip to the snack shop, and someone else.

And as expected standing in just his school blazer in the unforgiving 1° weather, is Gagamaru. You smile involuntarily when his face visibly lights up when he catches sight of you, it never failed to warm your heart whenever he looked livelier. A smile on his face looked so natural yet the longer you were around him the more you realised that wasn't the case, he's just weirdly pretty 24/7. You've come to appreciate his calm expression though, it made you realise that some things really aren't that deep.

He's already walking up to you, his steps are steady yet hold an eagerness that only you'd notice. His eyes slacken affectionately seeing your undeniably cold frame shiver under the harsh winds of January before roaming around a bit in his pocket and pulling out a hot pack, grasping the wrist of one of the hands still in your pocket and placing it in your palm.

"Your hands are cold." he announces surely as he closes your fingers around the small source of warmth.

"Thank you so muchh, my hands are freezing." he smiles deeper as you happily clasp your other hand around the hot pack and rub it between your palms like some genie lamp. He'd never understand how you got cold so easily, it made him worry constantly, if it wasn't made obvious by the hat and scarf he randomly got you.

And you've grown to accept the fact the man just happens to know everything about you, or at least has an understanding that far surpasses yours. He's always prying into making sure you stay warm but you also question how he's still completely fine. Like you know he runs hot but damn, you're convinced if you weren't here to scold him he'd probably not even wear a blazer.

Once he's confirmed your hands are warm enough for his liking by abruptly grabbing one and holding it to his cheek. Did he have to check that way? No. It was completely self indulgent and he'd admit that confidently if you happened to ask. Instead you chuckle slightly and shake your head at him a bit, flustered but trying your best to keep it under wraps.

"Its Friday, you're going to the shop?" After such a long time of meeting up after school it just sounds like a rhetorical question, despite that you always grin and say "Would never forget!" leaning against his shoulder as you walked side by side out of the school grounds.

For Gin this all still felt so new, not just the fact he's in a relationship with you but having someone that's not family being so close to his heart. At times he feels he's undeserving of it, his eyes gazing around everyone else clustered together with their friends or partners, and it was like exsisting in their world for the first time. It wasn't something he often gave thought, it never bothered him as no one really messed with him, not like they'd ever think to. But, if you were to disappear now, he's certain he would'nt be able to go back to that way of thinking.

It's not that his self esteem was low it just confused him why you'd choose him out of all people. Choosing him to prioritize, it would be something he'd figure out later. But for now he was grateful to be in your prescence, grateful for your kindness. And as he gazes down to admire you, how content you look at his side his chest aches with an affection so deeply rooted it wouldn't go away even if he tried.

He couldn't imagine it being anyone other than you.

"Thank you." the words tumble out instinctively as he looks ahead again.

Your head inclines upwards towards his, eyes squinting slightly to judge his expression. It wasn't the first time he'd randomly express his gratitude. And it's times like this you wish he'd break character just once so you could tell what he's feeling.

"What for?" you ask, as you've asked all those times before, and you're unsurprised to be met with a small hum of dismissal and a "I just am," before falling silent again.

You'd pay an unreasonable amount of money to find out what he's thinking every time he's not speaking, which is a lot.

| ₊˚⊹ᰔ

It was terrible. Terrible how they didn't have your go to snack, terrible how the prices are higher and terrible how the shop may be relocating. You grumble to yourself as you eat your overpriced snack (which he insisted on paying for after your appalled reaction) as you trudge the path uphill to your apartment as he chuckles every now and then. You'd keep complaining if it continued to entertain him.

Once the both of you finally reach your home you'd finished the snack and tucked it's wrapper somewhere in your pocket to bin later. As you reach the door you rummage through your blazer pockets for your keys, fishing them out like a prize and sticking it in the key hole.

"I'll see you Monday-"

"Do you wanna come in."

"Come in?"

For once the script is a little different, typically he'd get a hug (or a kiss on the cheek if he's lucky) before you both wave each other goodbye. Wide eyes trail across your face curiously at the suggestion, and upon seeing your unwavering expression he tilts his head a bit. He definitely wasn't opposed to the idea, in fact he always wanted to know what your home looked like, it'd tell him more about you. He always wanted to know more.

He'd forgotten he's just been staring blankly down at you till you're pulling him inside by his arm, the action sending a shock up his spine. His mouth opening to speak but closes again once he gets a look into your apartment. It smelled just like you and he loved it, scent is a big thing for him and your place didn't disappoint. He hears you locking the door as he slips his shoes off, noticing yours and the large size difference has him smiling to himself. It felt oddly domestic.

You don't miss a beat, casually making your way into your room to which he hesitantly follows behind. Which is quite funny to imagine when you put a securely well over 6ft Gagamaru in that position. He instinctively lingers outside your door for a moment before he walks in. And once he does he's mesmerized.

The whole place just screamed you, far more decorated than his own room. He honestly didn't know where to put his hands, sliding them out his pockets and to his sides as you let him eyeball the area as you turned your Tv on.

It was that time of year it got dark quick, the setting sun casting a casual glow over your room as you shrugged off your bag and coat. When you notice him still looking around you laugh a bit.

"You like my room?" a slightly teasing edge to your voice you knew usually got a reaction from him.

"Mhm, it's just like you." he says in his usual calm voice before turning to you, his heart warming to see you unburdened from your tie and blazer, and your shirt unbuttoned to fold over your jumper.

"Just like me huh? I never thought about it that way, actually it took so long to properly move in here but my landlords such a nice lady and—."

He sits himself on the bean bag near the corner of the bed you sat on which he made look comically small. Nodding and humming softly as words tumbled out your mouth, clumsily at that. It was impossible to imagine his pupils could get any wider than they already were but he swears they do whenever he sees you, especially when you're talking to him specifically. He likes knowing you chose him to confide your random or occasionally careful thoughts with him, sometimes he learns bits about himself as you do.

| ₊˚⊹ᰔ

A calm movie plays on your Tv now, the two actors sharing a thoughtful conversation when you hand finds it's way to his head, he looks up at you almost enamoured, before tilting his head slightly, questioning you.

"Ga—Gin, can I let your hair down?" you ask the question casually, like you wouldn't be disappointed if he said no. But the fingers already tracing the lining of his red hairband said otherwise.

He didn't plan on saying no anyway, not to you.

"Mhm", is his response and you can't help the eager smile that makes its way onto your lips as you carefully unloop the band. Easily mesmerized by how the white locks of hair fell in one quick swoop.

He still never understood your fascination with his hair. Was it the unique colour? The texture? He simply kept it that way because that was the norm for men in his household, nothing more. Now though, not like anyone would ever tell him to, he'd violently refuse any suggestion of cutting it after meeting you.

Your hands straw through his hair tenderly, almost like you were drawing him to sleep. He finds himself leaning slightly against your leg, and the hands he's tried so very hard to keep to himself wrap around your upper calf and one on your ankle. You bite back a small giggle, he really just liked holding onto the most random places, but obviously you didn't mind.

Then he's looking up at you, forcing you to stop the motion of combing his hair with your fingers. Cocking an eyebrow as you push his hair out of the way.

He stays quiet for a moment as if contemplating, making you even more curious for what he had to say. Oh if you knew how aggressively and painfully his heart was beating against his rib cage from just your hand behind his ear.

"[Name]?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I get a kiss?"

You weren't prepared for that, not at all. It's not that he hasn't asked for a kiss before, in fact you felt he asked fairly often. But these facts didn't stop the flurry of butterflies that swelled in your stomach each time he asked like it was the first time. Your smile becoming slightly softer as you nod "Okay".

Leaning off the bean bag to take his place on the bed beside you, an offer you'd brought up before but he had plainly declined, he was a floor guy.

He's close, close enough you can smell the same earthy scent he had on your first close encounter. It soothed you endlessly. Your heart jumps when he cups the underside of your thigh to pull you closer to him, he only smiles softly with the slightest tilt of his head before he's leaning in. Kissing the corner of your mouth first before meeting your lips with his, one of your hands reaching up for his cheek.

He was always so gentle when he kissed you, soft breaths and closed eyes that you thought of constantly. Letting go of the underside of you thigh he's holds your hand, so delicately you didn't notice till he was trailing up your arm to pull you even closer, deepening the kiss.

Only then he pulls away, successfully stealing two more kisses on your face that win a small laugh from you. His face looked flush in front of the glow of the Tv, his features softer and more feminine, reinforcing the fact to you he could be stupidly pretty.

He's resting his head against yours, unable to fight the urge to shuffle you to sit on his lap. He clearly wasn't thinking, but you had too much on your mind to be embarassed, still caught up in looking at him as he let you hold his face still.

"Ya know Gin, you're actually really pretty?"

"Pretty?"

"Mhm!"

He squints his eyes at you slightly, honestly the most judgemental look you've received from him making you frown playfully at his expression. Compliments were already on the rare side of things for him but his ma usually called him handsome, so pretty wasn't really what he expected. Not necessarily bad but also not a word he thought you could assign to someone like him.

But he'd believe any word you said, his ears already red simply from the fact they're kind words coming from you. He's casting his eyes down as the grip on your waist and leg stiffens slightly.

"…Thank you."

He doesn't mind as you proceed to tease him saying how "cute" it is that he's flustered over this, but he couldn't understand how you'd expect him not to be.

Unfortunately he's so lost in this moment at home with you to realise it's run quite late into the night, he could explain that to his ma later. She'd understand.

[heretherebedork]

re: P10L

as for the horrible parenting on Faifa’s mum’s part, you’re completely right. what struck me during this entire show is their interesting concept of “divorce.” 🤔 for full disclosure: by some miracle, my parents are still happily married. so all my experiences are 2nd hand (through family and close friends).

I get that Newton/ Yota/ Faifa’s mother doesn’t live in Thailand, so she doesn’t have her own home there. (although, at the rate of her visits he might as well acquire one… 🙃) but constantly visiting N/ Y/ F’s dad and then demand an assembly of all the family members…that’s just strange. we never see her spend quality time with any of her sons individually (you know, doing activities that they might actually enjoy). now this might all be on account of her bad parenting.

as for the relationship between mum and dad, I definitely do not suggest a ww3 scenario. but their interpretation of “coparenting” is weird to say the least… the fact that they literally split up their children suggests some animosity. but during their forced gatherings they seem to be a sort of happy unit…

[now assuming that the dad is the more attentive parent in this scenario]

sorry, but if I noticed one or more of my children suffered significantly from my ex-partner, who I feel at least a little animosity to, I think I would at some point put my foot down and say “enough!”. but none of that seems to have happened here. (or at least not significantly)

where was the dad here? it’s good that he pointed out they are bad parents, but it’s a little too late. I know it’s awful to say, but at this point I would’ve even preferred a loud argument, because that at least would’ve suggested that he actually stood up for his children.

honestly this just makes me a bit sad. especially since they don’t seem to have an “alternate parental figure” (a grandparent, aunt/ uncle, family friend).

ugh…BL and parents…you could write a book about it. 😒

love,

— Thel. 💚

You could write many books about it, though I would not be the one to do it.

But basically... yeah. It's wild. They're bad parents and they hurt Faifa so much and mom claimed she knew the entire time and did... nothing?! Abandoned him again and again? Said he was sulking when he, for once, showed her that he was hurting?!

I still will never forgive her for literally forgetting about his allergy. That was the first thing we learned about her, that she didn't remember her son's allergy... and we're still supposed to believe she loves him equally to the two sons she wanted to take with her to her new family without him?

It's a family dynamic that tries to say it's solved because of a single conversation but doesn't actually touch on the other issues.

Still mad that neither Yotha nor Newton ever apologized for leaving him waiting for five hours and that mom's apology was basically just passing the blame to his father, in the end, no one acknowledged that Faifa has been hurting for so long. Mom apparently knew! Everyone was there when Faifa stared straight ahead in absolute misery while Yotha and Newton forgave her.

How did none of them see him!? He wasn't even SUBTLE!!

Anyway.

Yeah, it was an unsatisfying end and I knew it would be. Alas. GMMTV has done a few better and I had a small hope... but nope. I really wish the show had spent more time on the brothers. I really wish we'd been able to see their relationship as brothers grow and get better. Because, truthfully, seeing Yotha and Newton figure out how to show Faifa that he was loved would have been better than any amount of forgiveness that Faifa gave his mother.

[buckysleg]

hello hello, i know this fandom is mostly dead but I'm looking to write bucky barnes from the marvel universe (18+)

- i write in the third person (past or present i don't mind), semi lit to lit so i could write a paragraph or 6 of them. i tend to mirror my other partner though, and im not a hard ass on grammar or spelling mistakes it happens!

- id love to write against a steve rogers, clint barton, tony stark, brock rumlow, sam wilson, or just about any of the male characters (it depends on the female character and the dynamic) i love rare pairs! so whatever marvel character you'd like to write against him! ill also happily take OCS (preferably male/NB as i see bucky as mostly queer but depending on your oc i could change my mind!)

- i write bucky as trans masc, so you're very welcome to write character as cis or trans or NB or anything of the sorts i love t4t! i also write him as a switch so please do not interact if you're just interested in writing a sub/bottom against him. smut is kind of a must but i wouldn't prefer it taking over the plot completely. dark topics are more than welcome but does not have to be included just let me know what your limits/triggers are and ill happily oblige!

- for plots, i love to do just about anything, i have a special place in my heart for post the winter soldier, pre civil war with bucky just wandering around or something during while he's with hydra it just depends on the characters! happy to hear what you have in mind as well, also good with AUS of most sorts

if you're interested like this post or send me a DM! i only write on discord!

[boul3vvard]

Bring your child to work day･*.:+

Sanemi AU x GN! Reader DRABBLE!

S/n = sons name

I started writing this story back in nov 2022 I abandoned it and came back to it March 2023 erased the ending and rushed it so sorry if this isn’t up to par I’m just trying to get this out of my drafts lol. Now a few pointers

★ Sanemi is OOC I just think that it would be really cute to picture him in this sorta dynamic.

★I tried to keep it gender neutral as possible this is also my first time writing a gn story so feel free to give me any possible feedback

★also as I always say this isn’t proof read AT ALL!! so there might be a ton of grammatical errors idrc HAPPY READING

There are only 3 characters who are color coded

Y/n sanemi and s/n

“Are you sure you’ll be fine taking him with you I mean he’s only 4, He won’t be too much of a distraction for you?”

y/n said while doing their sons hair making his curls pop out a little more.

“He’ll be fine we’re not doing too much in class today anyways” sanemi sighed as he was getting dressed for work. “You’ll be good for daddy right?” y/n asked s/n while looking at him in the mirror. “MMHM” s/n said happily. Y/n was a little nervous at first about this whole ordeal when sanemi brought it up but all the doubt disappeared when y/n saw how giddy their son was to spend time with sanemi this was also the first time their son is going to be around a bunch of people at once, let alone a bunch of teenagers. how will he react? “he’ll be fine plus I’m there if anything does happen, which nothing will so stop worrying, You act like we’re going to war or something” sanemi chuckled as he patted his partners shoulders. “I know I know I guess I’m just a little worried” they sighed “for nothing, we’re gonna head out inna bit I have to get to work early. where is the little guy so I can put his shoes on?” “IM RIGHT HERE DADDY” his son squealed excitedly “LOOK”. sanemi sighed, a soft smile appearing on his face. “your shoes are on the wrong feet you dork c’mere” Y/n packed everything sanemi needed for Haruto in his book bag so he wouldn’t get bored. “are you all set and ready to go?” sanemi said while picking his son up into his arms. “Have fun you two” y/n waved at the two before they left.

Sanemi got to class 1 hour early so he could prepare his classroom for the day. students started rolling in and filling in their seats, two of his students ran into his classroom one slapping the other repeatedly. “INOSUKE STOP HITTING TANJIRO FOR THE LAST TIME I WILL NOT REPEAT MYSELF” Inosuke gruffed as he plopped into his desk. “hey sir, who is that child sitting in your chair? if you don’t mind me asking” Tanjiro asked pointing to the child as his classmates started to quiet down since they all wanted an explanation. “He’s my son. I decided to bring him in with me today he won’t be too much of a distraction” sanemi said as he started gathering all of the papers on his desk into a neat pile. The class all became strangely quiet so he looked up to see what was wrong “yes?” He said as he quirked his eyebrow. “YOU HAVE A CHILD??” they all yelled in Unison. “FORGET ABOUT THE CHILD YOU’RE MARRIED??” Zenitsu yelled freaking out. “Is that a problem?” sanemi started to get angry. “I just feel bad for the sorry sack who decided to tie the knot with you” Inosuke said bluntly. Sanemi threw an eraser at the boys forehead. “Before we get started on today’s plan how about I let him introduce himself to you all” just before the boy was about to speak everyone zoomed in on him making him feel so small, he hid behind his daddies leg. “it’s okay remember how we practiced in the car do it exactly like that okay don’t be shy” sanemi said as he pushed him up front, everyone weirded out about how soft he got for a sec-. “h-hello my name is s/n and I’m 4 years old” he showed everyone on his fingers. All of the girls in the classroom started cooing at the young boy. “AWWW HES SO CUTE” they shouted. “thank you” s/n said blushing at his shoes, he ran back to his dad and hugged him. “You did good, now go sit down for a little bit alright daddy has to do his job okay” “okay” s/n said shyly as he ran back to sanemi’s seat.

The rest of the day went smoothly as s/n opened up throughout the day and became more talkative. During passing periods Haruto would run to the other teachers classrooms to greet them. He ran up to the first classroom and walked in. “Uhhhh mr Iguro Theres a Child standing in the door way” one of his students said confused. Iguro was about to tell the child off before he raised his eyebrows in confusion. “s/n?? What are you doing here?” “I’m with daddy today he let me come to work with him today” he basically shouted happily “I see, well im in the middle of teaching right now how about you come back later okay? “Okay see you later” on his way back to his fathers class he stopped by Uzui’s class, they were all circled around a bowl of fruit quietly drawing it on their own. “I LOVE DRAWING CAN I DRAW TOO?!” The entire class was startled by the broken silence. “s/n??, What are you doing here kid? And what a flashy way of entering a room” Tengen said smiling at the kid ear to ear “I’m here with daddy” “of course you are but where is he? “In his classroom” “well I’m kinda in the middle of a class kiddo so how about you run back to your father and I’ll catch up with you later, how does that sound” “OKAY BYE BYE” just as he was about to run off again sanemi scooped him up “there ya are punk, you can’t go running off like that especially not at my job,what if principle Ubuyashiki caught you before I did huh?” “Sorry daddy I went to go see uncle Oguro” “let’s go eat lunch y/n packed you something delicious” sanemi said “YAYYYY”.

overall he enjoyed being at work with his father and seeing what he did daily. Some of the kids would chat with him which he loved of course and even colored with him. The class fell in love with him very much only knowing him for such a short while. I liked today Do you think I can come to work with you tomorrow daddy?” “Of course you can.” Now let’s go home I’m sure y/n can’t wait to hear all about your day today”

©Boul3vvard. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. SO ANY FORM OF PLAGIARISM OF MY CONTENT WILL NOT BE TOLERATED.

[crescenthistory]

Congrats on your 2k Carina!! you deserve this more then anything! I'm asking for an interpret.

(Im just writing basic facts about myself not really in any order so sorry if its cluttered ;D)

I'm a Gryffindor, straight female. And loyal to the bone, I am not super shy when it comes to meeting people (sometimes). if someone came up to me to talk they're now stuck like that for an hour. I am a over thinker and consent perfectionist. I love to write, listen to music and read! If it were up to me my dream day out would be, barns and noble, hot topic, and a food place. I'm trying to learn Russian, (slowly). I value loyalty and words of affirmation in any relationship. I am near sighted (my eyes are really bad) I've done Ballet and other forms of dance since I was 5 years old. I've always wanted to be different then the average fan person so I've joined just about every fandom to be. I've fallen for just about every marauders age character mostly because of your amazing work! thank you and cant wait for what you make next!

aww darling thank you so much! i'm glad to hear my work resonates with you, i hope to continue hitting the mark for you<33

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will INTERPRET for msfandomsblog

carina's 2k celebration

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i can see you and poly!moonchaser being good together!

these boys are all about loyalty and loving your friends and partners passionately, so you would always have that with them. james and remus has that perfect dynamic where they are able to quell any overthinking in their partner through james' anchor-like support and physical affection and remus' spot-on murmured words of affirmation. james needs someone who can keep up with how talkative he is, while remus needs someone willing to sit with him and read for a while when he is too low on energy for anything else, and that's where you come in. moonchaser would adore your attempt at learning russian and would encourage you further. james might try and learn it with you, but trust that he would not be able to and then he would be all pouty -- but he would thus be even more proud of you when you're able to. remus would happily sit and knit at james' quidditch matches and your ballet recitals, so long as the two of you are all doting on him afterwards when his back hurts. you three could balance each other out and be happy together 🤍

[firefeufuego]

Omg absolutely amazing chapter, as always!!!!! I’ve also been hospitalized because of my bipolar disorder, but luckily my experiences have been so so much better than Remus’ (and perhaps yours?). The werewolf/bipolar thing really works and it felt so real reading it, such an interesting but also legit take on Remus’ story. I understand that it was inspired by your own experiences, but how did you get the idea to translating that from canon to this story?

Again, thank you for this amazing story. All the LONGING (AND WE KNOW THEYRE BOTH LONGING), and Lily being willing to beg not because she’s submissive, but because she just really wants to do something for him AND kind of for herself because she wants him close. I’m obsessed with the sexual dynamic between James and Lily in your stories; it feels so refreshing and real, and you know what: /good/ and healthy. How Lily is selfish at times and also giving at times, with no clear D/S undertones or whatever. It’s never about power or that kind of play, and their genders in the outside world never shine through when they have sex. At least that’s my take on it, hope I don’t offend you! If I ever have a daughter in the future and she decides to read fanfiction with sex in it, this is the kind I’d like her to read.

Aaaand just a question if you feel like answering it: what went through James’ head during the last portion of the chapter?

Omg thank you so much for such a thoughtful and interesting message!!!!

Solidarity on the bipolarity, my comrade in arms. Happily my experiences also weren’t so bad as Remus’s, although they were traumatising enough—I feel like the law being able to rob you of agency and dignity because of a health problem is offensive enough to me even when the hospitalisation itself is relatively benign. The analogy came to me pretty easily after reading fic that explored Remus’s experience, like ‘oh, being afraid and ashamed of a part of yourself that emerges episodically and over whom you have very little control? where have i heard that before?’ It really is damning on Rowling’s part that she went for the homophobic and inaccurate AIDS analogy when bipolar disorder was Right there.

You are right that they are both longing, I’ve decided to switch back to James’s POV for this last chapter, so you will see very clearly just how much, as well as what was going on during that last scene. I really liked writing that scene with the begging, it’s such a telling moment for Lily of just how far she is from those days of not wanting enough and feeling so awful and guilty about it. I’m so chuffed by your comments on their sexual dynamic, because that is something I really work hard on and value—being able to write something compelling and sexy while still being the kind of relationship that would be advisable in real life. I feel like at the core of their dynamic for me is their narrative role as these idealised parents, there is this deep need to take care of others at the core of both of them and part of what attracts me to them as a pairing is the idea of each partner being just as genuinely capable of and made happy by taking care of their partner as each other. If there is a kind of power play, like in ‘in the morning’, then it is only meant to mitigate the outside power and gender dynamics—James wants to be tied down to essentially level the playing field between them, and because it feels so good, which is why he’s then willing to do it to Lily. I don’t know if you’ve seen Contrapoint’s ‘Twilight’ video, which is a masterpiece, but one of the threads in that video seemed to me to be basically that attempts to portray egalitarian relationships are so often unsexy and unrealistic, I suppose my mission as a smut writer is to disprove that a bit!

As I said, we will see James’s POV, but for now let me say that much of what was happening in Lily’s head was happening in James’s too, plus some light guilt about withholding his body and capacity to bring Lily pleasure for some dumb, selfish reason like the fact that he didn’t want to get his heart broken again. He’s known Lily wanted him since the hallway in Chapter 3, but seeing her Need him was just too much for this Service Top par excellence. Bless his little cotton socks!

[mmmatchasims]

Wow, I can't believe gen 3 is over! This was my most ambitious generation and I don't think I have plans to ever write another gen as long as this one turned out to be, so I put a bunch of thoughts and ramblings under the cut for those interested.

If you have any questions or thoughts/theories about my bpr please feel free to send me an ask! I'm happy to clarify anything that wasn't as clear as I intended (as long as it's not something I purposefully kept unclear for the time being) or just chat about my story and characters. Thank you for reading! ❤️ Okay, phew, let's get into this!

I hate to say it, but Citrine was always going to die at the end of their senior year. I've had some variation of her & Hib's tragic love story bouncing around in my head since I was at least 14, and that was absolutely not helped by my adolescent love of John Green books. What can I say? I live for the melodrama and tragedy and intensity and clumsiness of those types of stories, and I wanted one in my BPR. Is it the most nuanced thing I could have written? No. Was it self-indulgent and very fun? Absolutely. 😇

While writing this gen and solidifying the lore of the Dream family, a question kept popping into my head. What happens if two people who are meant to be together are somehow prevented from doing so? It's starting to become clear at this point in the story that the Dreams are part of something bigger than themselves. Some sort of prophecy or cosmic will. What would have happened if our Gen 4 heiress had been born to Hibiscus and Citrine? How would the world have changed? Would it have impacted the story? This is a BPR after all, we need a certain amount of generations before we can conclude the story. Or do we? Jasmine seems to be waiting for something, or someone, to arrive. But even she isn't sure when that will be. While we're at it, what is her deal? We'll explore that in much more detail next gen.

Speaking of things that were or were not meant to happen, I had always planned on Hibiscus having a child with Topaz. I tried to leave it up to interpretation how much of their story was fate course-correcting after Citrine died vs. an intentional coupling. They have a shared bond through her, but that shared bond might not be the best thing to foster a marriage on. To be honest, I didn't intend for them to have as much chemistry as they turned out to have. In my mind, they were always better as friends than lovers, and Hibiscus was always meant to be with Citrine. Their whole relationship/marriage/baby montage at the end of this gen was meant to feel rushed and strained, because that's how Hibiscus and Topaz feel. There is real love there, but it was always going to be complicated by Citrine. I'm very excited to explore their dynamic more in Dandelion's gen and let you guys peek behind the curtain into some very honest and raw conversations.

Not to mention, Hibiscus hasn't found out that Andromeda was somehow responsible for "cutting Citrine's thread" before her time... Yet. I left what happened during her visit to the three seamstresses a bit vague, but I'm curious if anyone picked up on what happened. I'll expand on that pretty immediately in gen 4, so don't worry too much if you've totally forgotten what I'm talking about.

Lastly, I wanted to touch on Hib's friend group. Midna and Tamber were literally a reference to the "All or Nothing" webseries/tumblr meme that became a core part of this site's lore back in the 2010s or whenever. As somebody who identifies as being somewhere on the Ace spectrum, I knew I wanted to very briefly touch on my own feelings as a young person working through that identity. And then the dynamic between her and Tam kind of just wrote itself! They are still very happy living in San Myshuno together along with Tam's other partners. Maybe someday I'll do a side story about their adventures together. Cherry and Cranberry are happily married with one daughter and another kid on the way. They live in San Sequoia where Cran is a track coach at the city college and Cherry is a professor at San Sequoia University. I'd like to post some gameplay of them at some point, bc I want people to know they are happy and thriving but there probably won't be any room in the official story for them.

I think that's everything I wanted to touch on! Like I said, please hit my line if you have any questions about the story or just want to say hello and chat. It means a lot to me that people are still reading, despite this generation kind of getting away from me in length 😅 So thank you for the support! I will be taking a bit of a break from the sims for a few months because this gen did burn me out a little bit, but I'll still be active on here reading other people's stories and downloading CC. I'll let you all know once I start prepping Dandelion's gen, I'm very excited for you all to meet her 💛

[amazing-spiderling]

002 Mattfoggy and 003 Nightcrawler

Mattfoggy

when of if I started shipping it.

I came to this soooo slowly. I watched the TV series and really enjoyed it, but it didn't inspire me to jump into the fandom per se, and I was already elbow deep in Spideypool, meeting my comic book nerd quota. But after reading some Daredevil comics as part of some Spider-Man podcast research, I got interested in seeking out more of the series, and eventually the Waid run. THEN it clicked for me, I went back and watched the show, shipping goggles freshly attached, and didn't look back, haha.

my thoughts:

sdfds what is this??? This is such a vague question. All of these are my thoughts. Okay, here's one I just made up. Let's have a spin-off series just about these two in college. I know Ultimate was kind of that, but we also largely pretend the Ultimate universe didn't happen. It could even be a min or limited series! Let's go!

What makes me happy about them:

I am a big ol' sucker for friends-to-lovers, and these two provide me with that in spades. Even when they're at odds with one another (or in one of their "divorce" eras), they would still do everything they could to help the other out, if called on. Comics as a medium are built on change and shifting relationships and dynamics, so it's really satisfying to see something that remains consistent, even when undergoing changes of its own.

What makes me sad about them:

I think too many comic writers, when given the task of writing Daredevil, think that his strength is in solo brooding, rather than his interactions with his supporting cast. Foggy gets put on the back burner (or on a forgotten shelf in the pantry) because it seems like the writers don't understand his value.

things done in fanfic that annoys me:

When either of them start speaking in a way that tells me the author is halfway through their psych 101 class, or just learned what the Kinsey scale is or something of the sort and just COULD NOT WAIT to put it in a fanfic in such a way that one of them starts like... rattling off the definition of bisexuality from a textbook. Pleaseeee. It's not even the "he wouldn't fucking say that" so much as the "he would not be fucking self aware or confident enough to put that idea into words". It also just reads awkwardly and makes the fic feel clunky as heck.

things I look for in fanfic:

That sweet, sweet mutual pining between two people who understand each other so well except for this ONE REALLY IMPORTANT THING is so delicious to me.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: 

See, the thing is, this is a true "it's always been you" situation- like, canonically. Even if they weren't in a romantic relationship together, they would still "end up together" as platonic partners, y'know? But that being said, I think Kirsten is the one who was most prepared to stick it through with Matt. For Foggy? Man, I don't know. His canonical love interests mostly sucked. I liked Glorianna, but them ending up together... (the niece of his ex-wife?) was always a little awkward to me. Foggy's interactions with her always seemed like he was on the verge of apologizing for being, well, himself. So I don't really know. OTL

My happily ever after for them:

I do like the version of events I came up with for my comic "Doing Good". While human biology would require Matt to retire from superheroing at some point, it's hard for me to imagine either of them truly retiring from their jobs. I mean, relaxing and having time for their personal lives would be great and all, but I think they'd get bored and antsy after a while, so they'd find (less time consuming) ways to contribute to society, like working for non-profits, teaching a college class twice a week, etc. Oh and they live together and kiss whenever they want.

who is the big spoon/little spoon:

Matt is the big spoon when he's feeling particularly protective or worried. He likes being able to hold onto Foggy and feel him in his arms. But Foggy returns the favor when Matt is injured or has gotten too lost in his head.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity:

Maybe I'm a little biased because I have a small collection of my own, but should these two ever have a free night to share, I can imagine them relaxing and listening to vinyl records. It could be a fun hobby for them, collecting things randomly that the other might like, and making an evening of listening to them over food and drinks, sharing memories associated with the songs, or the first time they listened to an album.

Nightcrawler:

How I feel about this character: 

He’s my best friend, he’s my pal, he’s my homeboy, my rotten soldier, my sweet cheese, my good time boy. We've been together since I was 12 and I'll always love him.

All the people I ship romantically with this character: 

Eh.

My non-romantic OTP for this character: 

Wolverine is the classic choice, and a good one! But Way/Legion of X and Uncanny Spider-Man have me craving more interactions between Kurt and Legion.

My unpopular opinion about this character: 

I don't actually want to bone him like most people in the fandom XD On top of that, I don't actually think he needs a permanent long time partner in the comics. (I don't even think I want it.) It's never felt as right as his "true love" being Xavier's dream and the X-men as a whole.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

By the end of "X-Men: Forever", Kurt had swapped powers with Rogue and attempted to absorb *Thor's* abilities, which left him half knocked out and mumbling in runes. I desperately wish we'd gotten to know what happened to him after that, but the series ended right after. The comic itself was a little too jumbled to be any good, but it gave me so much food for thought.

my het ship:

I wasn't too mad about him and Amanda together, but I also feel like nobody ever made her particularly interesting. Like... I would happily read fic that had the two of them in a relationship, but I think the story would naturally be about whatever they were dealing with. TBH the moment in comics when she asks why it didn't work out between them and he says, "too much history, perhaps" felt like the most real "relationship moment" he ever had in comics.

my fem/slash ship:

I don't really have a dog in this fight. I've read and enjoyed Logan/Kurt before, but it didn't give me that ache in my soul like my real OTPs. I think I've known these characters too long. They're like brothers to me.

my OTP:

Kurt/Mankind i don't know loll

my OT3:

I don't really do OT3s, but I would personally fund a comic where Kurt hangs out with Matt and Foggy for a while. Particularly for the bits where Foggy is like "wait, you're Catholic too? And not a miserable brood machine half the time? Matt, are you hearing this?"

a head cannon fact:

Kurt, like me, loves Christmas and hot chocolate and decorating the tree and all that jazz. Some of his fondest memories were getting to witness the Christmas markets in Germany, though he doesn't bring it up much because he doesn't want the other X-Men getting jealous. (I know I am.)

[wrathfuldog]

𓆱 hannigram roleplay search, 21+

status: open

Will Graham — "We have a mutually unspoken pact to ignore the worst in one another in order to continue enjoying the best."

In search of a long-term roleplay partner who would be willing to play Hannibal Lecter.

I've roleplayed as Will for a few years already, so I have a good amount of experience in writing from his POV. I'm a third-person lit/adv literate writer, which means that my replies typically range anywhere from 150-700+ words (and more if I'm comfortable with you and we just so happen to click), so I'm looking for someone who has a decent grasp on grammar and who is capable of writing multi-paragraph, 3+. I like to mirror my partner's style and tend to be very adaptable. That said, at the end of the day, I'm not particularly picky as long as we're having fun! 🫀

Dynamic-wise, while my preference is Hannibal x Will, with Hannibal as the dominant and top character, I am also happily willing to compromise and do not mind switching.

Yes, I would love for our plot to contain smut and eventually lead up to nsfw, but that doesn't mean that it has to be the main focus of our roleplay. I enjoy a good slow burn. As for kinks, I have no limits or triggers, and I'm open to trying most things if discussed beforehand.

AUs, canon compliant, angst, fluff, omegaverse, dead dove, whatever, I'm down for anything, although I do have a fondness for exploring the darker and uglier aspects of their relationship like the hurt and manipulation.

Canon characters only. No OCs unless it somehow benefits the plot.

Lastly, I feel like I shouldn't even have to say this, but absolutely NO AI. If you use AI to write, then find someone else. I'm looking to challenge myself as a writer and grow through the collaborative experience of writing with other humans, which AI lacks.

Message/DM me if you're interested. We can swap writing samples if needed 🫀

Do not interact with me if you are a minor.

[etxrnaleclipse]

Muse Preferences || Intimacy

((Up to date as of July 2025. Updating this one again since I've had some more changes with my muse page since this was last posted. I may not write smut in threads, but since I write drabbles and happily discuss those elements with rp partners, and also will send memes for them to others, I figured I’d put down a little about my muses in that regard for those who might find it relevant or interesting???? (or useful if you’re writing anything for our muses) Have only done these for muses who are likely to wind up in those kind of relationships/dynamics.))

ADRIANO - submissive mostly, very vanilla, switch but prefers to bottom

AIDA - more submissive than dominant but doesn't have much of a preference

ANDRE - top leaning switch, neither submissive or dominant just goes with how he feels in the moment

BEN - mostly a switch, ever so slightly more submissive leaning, bottom for position

BENJI - primarily submissive but can show a dominant side if his partner wishes, bottom for position

CARLOS - switch, a little more on the dominant side but likes to switch it up now and then if he feels the need

CAROLINA - a little bit on the dominant side, but doesn't really mind as long as she is enjoying herself

CONNIE - dominant leaning, also very much enjoys poly dynamics

CRIS - can be both dominant and submissive, tends to not experiment much, switch for position

DANI - slightly a switch but mostly submissive, for all her outgoing displays in public, she can actually be a bit shy in the bedroom

DANNY - the definition of a power bottom, likes to get what he wants, but will get a kick out of being pushed around. Has some unique kinks

ERIC - used to be a lot more dominant in his youth, not as much anymore but will put on a dominant personality unless he trusts his partner and then he will hand over control, switch for position

EVA - primarily submissive, but if encouraged she can test the waters being a little more dominant, silently experimental but wouldn’t admit it  

EVAN - switch for both, perhaps ever so slightly prefers submissive but just enjoys intimacy

EVAN [BUCK] - switch for position, but sometimes prefers to bottom, is a very giving lover, likes to make his partners feel amazing, just really enjoys sex?

FELICITY - switch, loves anything and everything depending what the situation calls for

GABI - submissive leaning switch, depends on her mood 

GEN - dominant unless she is around someone who she trusts a lot and feels comfortable with, enjoys feeling control over her partners but likes to focus on their pleasure while getting what she wants

GRACE - dominant leaning switch, likes to experiment and push herself

HENRIQUE - top leaning switch, quite dominant but enjoys a bit of fighting for power sometimes, secretly has a thing for someone pushing him around as long as they don't expect him to go easy on them

HOLLIE - dominant leaning switch

IAIN - dominant top, likes to get what he wants

ILSA - dominant leaning switch, very touch driven

ISABELLA - much more submissive, not too experimental but she is open to trying new things for her partners

JAMIE - bottom leaning switch, very tender lover and very giving, just wants to make his partner happy however he can

JAYNE - complete switch, enjoys taking care of her partners, is a very giving partner

JIMMY - switch for both, he just mostly enjoys pleasure

KATRINE - dominant leaning switch, enjoys being in control but likes to change things up now and then

KIAN - dominant for the most part, switch for position but tends to prefer to top, enjoys it rough

LOU - classic switch, she likes what she likes

LUCIANA - enjoys the simple things, isn't very experimental but she knows what she enjoys, likes to switch up her preferences now and then

MARIA - not the most adventurous, but she enjoys pleasure however it comes, tends to be more on the submissive side

MATT - slightly submissive leaning switch, not the most experimental but is open to trying most things once, bottom for position

MIRA - relatively even switch, doesn’t really mind, whatever feels right in the moment

MR EAMES - the ultimate switch, enjoys literally anything and everything

NICKY - submissive bottom, socially awkward and that definitely translates to intimacy, quite good at following orders though

NIGEL - switch for position, a little more submissive than dominant but isn't against being adventurous

OLIVIA - switch, she’s used to her past as an escort where she would happily offer whatever her clients wanted

OSCAR - primarily dominant but if he trusts you implicitly then he will let his walls down and allow you to dominate him, bottom for position

PEDRO - submissive bottom, is kind of shy until a partner coaxes him out of his shell, very eager to please

RIA - very much a switch, enjoys lathering her partners in attention

ROSE - dominant leaning switch but sometimes desires the comfort that she finds in being submissive

ROWAN - switch, depends on his mood, sub leaning switch

SAM - switch for both position and preference, loves anything and everything depending what the situation calls for

SILVANA - dominant 99.9% of the time, enjoys trying new things

SORAIA - puts on the act of being more dominant, but if she trusts you, she will give you complete control

STEVEN - definitely more on the submissive side, likes to feel protected because he puts up a front of not needing protection for his work, bottom for position

THEO - very much a switch depending on his mood, primarily bottom but enjoys to top when he feels like it, prefers to be a partner who goes with whatever the other wants

TK - switch, tends to be a little more submissive but likes to take control with Carlos now and then

TOBY - into a little more rough intimacy, will always be willing to switch for both aspects, but does have a desire to be submissive and a bottom now and then

VERA - a little more submissive but she'll just go with the flow

VIC - switch for position, more on the dominant side but has let himself be used over the years and actually enjoyed it, so will be submissive for the right guy

WILL - dominant leaning switch, top for position

YASMINA - dominant leaning, enjoys experimenting

ZARA - depends on her mood, she likes to take control

[svollga]

I have been sitting with my feelings over s2 for a few days, and now I need to let it out. Before I can do the second re-watch, so it's all based on the first impressions.

Fisrt of all, I still adore this show, and am eternally grateful to the cast and crew and personally David Jenkins. It's great. It's great.

Second - this is a reminder to myself not to put my full trust into the showrunner, however good they are, however much I loved their previous product. They are telling the story they want to tell, and it's not always the story I want to hear, even if I liked the beginning of it.

That being said, I'm perfectly satisfied with how s2 played out for Ed and Stede. The story is there, delicious details and parallels are there, the ending can serve as a happily ever after placeholder. (But they need s3.)

However, I'm disappointed over some major developments.

1) What the fuck happened to Olu and Jim?

They were the second pining couple of s1. The one who got it and were only separated by circumstances. They spent as much time thinking about whether the other was dead as Pete and Lucius. And when they meet...

They're friends who each has their own love interest. That's all. (All there's on screen - that, and "family who fucked" later.)

Why was it decided, by the djenks and the writing room, not to go with textual and direct polyamory, giving them a romantic reunion *and* also new love interests?

Why aren't these new love stories more developed? All we know about Olu and Zheng is "the break of your day"; all we know about Archie and Jim is... Jim.

(I still don't understand who's Archie and what's her point, to be honest. I feel like Archie was needed as a love interest for Jim in the first three episodes for Ed to rage against, to put romantic love against his romantic pain. But after that, she's just hanging around for shenanigans, without giving us a reason why Jim is into her, or why we should care about her as an individual.)

But anyway, it could have been okay if we've been shown more of a transition from TealOranges to Jim/Archie with Olu as a friend. Or if Olu and Jim stayed romantic partners while also adding Archie and then Zheng. Explicitly, on screen.

For now, all three sets of relationship here feel underdeveloped. If they were short for time something should have been cut here and reshaped to give more space to the rest.

2) Seagull Buttons. My expectation was that Buttons will reappear in the finale in a manner that leaves the circumstances of his disappearance ambiguous (so we can wonder but never know if magic is real), and it would be a plot point. But he just... disappeared. It's set up without payoff. Even with a confirmed s3, it would be a hanging thread. Working in the framework of "this season could be last", spending so much time on the seagull plot without any actual payoff seems wasteful. (We could have had Archie's character development here! Or anyone else's!)

3) The big one. Izzy's death. I blocked all related tags as soon as I was spoiled (and had to temporary unfollow a couple of people - I'll get back when this all calms down) so I don't know much of the discourse and opinions. Just from my own impression, from watching this season one time, as it was coming out - this death felt narratively wrong.

It seems to be necessary to complete Blackbeard-to-Ed transformation and also to point to Ed that he's loved and has a family. The problem is, Ed isn't loved by the crew, and they're not his family. He traumatised them, and they've barely accepted him back. They're here for Stede, not for him. (It would have been different if we had an episode between 5 and 6 when Ed actually earns them back, reconnects with them all, finds his new place in the ship dynamics. Alas, we go from the cat collar in ep 5 to the party in ep 6 where Ed is included in the "captains", and then to him leaving and coming back again.)

Izzy's story stopped being about Ed and Blackbeard in ep 3-5. He got a leg; he made a shark. He found a family. He fonud an answer to the question "who the fuck are you?" He told Ricky that being a pirate means belonging to something - to the crew. That's where his story is, and that's what his finale should have been. He found his own ability to love, and he loved those people, and they loved him back. They should have been the ones saying goodbuy, and then promising to avenge him (which no one did btw).

The story would also work if he didn't die because it could have continue to be the story of love and self found late in life.

Add to this that his death happened accidentally. The very fact of him being wounded and dying wasn't related to anyone. He wasn't protecting someone, or attacking, killing for the crew. He just got a stray bullet.

This is all narratively wrong. It doesn't follow. I hope that I feel better about it after a rewatch, but it shouldn't feel so wrong after the first viewing. I'm pretty media literate, I can follow the narrative, and this one isn't working for me.

So here we go. There's so much I appreciate this season. I rewatched some scenes many times. But unfortunately, point 3 makes me sad and angry (because again, without this unnecessary death we could have more time for the plot and the crew), point 1 makes me angry because I miss TealOranges and wish for better poly representation, and point 2 is just annoying. I feel like I can't enjoy the show fully without retconning 3 and ignoring 1 and 2. Too much work at this point.

I hope to do a rewatch soon, and get back with the list of all things I appreciate. I just had to get this out first.