#Establishing Study Routine | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

st4rbwrry · 5 months ago

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𝓢𝓤𝓖𝓐𝓡. eren yeager.

‎𐦍 ₊˚♱ ෆ . . . 5.1k. fem!reader, set in 01’, country!eren + bluecollar!, housewife!reader, established relationship, domesticity, ovulation, oral ꒰ f + m. ꒱, kreaming + squirting, rough sex, nasty talk ofc, unprotected, daddy kink, spanking, pet names ꒰ sweetie, baby, mama ꒱, praise, hair pulling, check ins + aftercare, choking, breath + sensitivity + salvia play, minors aren’t allowed! reblogs + comments are greatly appreciated. <3

꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 ꒱ . . . a lil sum i thought of randomly. this is related to the dangerously in love couple. <3 visual. visual. visual. wish i had a link for the exact position i have in my head, so here’s a small example. hopefully i explained them well. :<

part three. <3

ivory sunflowers are imprinted along the frilly apron that hugs your body cutely, the coquette lace floral dress with a baby pink ribbon to create a corset style underneath. the warm scent of strawberry pie baking in the matcha green vintage oven blooms your heart. dusting flour over the counter to roll and mush at the dough you’ve created for the chicken pot pies, one of eren’s favorite meals. the sun was fairly hot today, your eyes fixating on the two beautiful tawny cows roaming your farm, their mouths chewing at grass as the wind blows serenely.

you told eren to keep a close eye on them while he was outside, watching your husband stand halfway down the driveway with sweat dripping from his brow as he tinkers with the engine of his polished black 1968 ford f100. he’s been having troubles with it this past week, and constantly handling it became tedious. he expressed his anger a few times now, this truck being his first big purchase for himself and he was having issues only a year later.

his light blue levi jeans and classic wife-beater was streaked with grease, clinging to his muscular thighs as he crouches low, peering intently at the mechanical innards. every so often, he wipes his hands on a rag before reaching for another tool, his calloused fingers moving with practiced ease. the sun casts a glow on the definition of his biceps as he lifts and maneuvers heavy parts. angelic brown strands held back by a black cap turned backwards.

you’ve been subconsciously humming along to the 70s and 80s rock tunes he has stationed on the radio. don’t dream it’s over currently on play. meanwhile, inside the cozy farmhouse kitchen, with the tantalizing aroma of food and your chocolate brown maltipoo who eren named honeybelle sleeps on her bed by the window — although this moment was romantic and peaceful to view, you weren’t too happy of a woman.

this was one of the few days he was off from work, and he’s been outside fixing his car since your eyes opened to an empty bedside. it’s nearing nighttime, and you’d spent half your day to your lonesome. shaving your body, doing your skincare routine and deep conditioning your handful of a curly head that’s currently pinned up away from your soft features. it’s felt like such a long time since the two of you enjoyed a full day together, let alone make love. your ovulation period not making this any easier on you, feeling like a wild animal in desperate heat. the only time you really interacted today was when you brought out a fat honey-turkey club sandwich, knowing he tends to forget to eat sometimes.

brushing the crust you created for the pot pie after layering them in crisscross patterns with butter, your mind wanders off, daydreaming as the sun begins to set and the sky blooms into color palettes of saffron and coral. the air outside turns warmer, and you study your husband once more, watching the ball in his throat shift as he chugs on a pitcher of water, droplets hitting his chest. his briefs are peaking out from his jeans, feet in his black timberlands per usual. his arms have veins streaming from the middle of his forearm to his big, dirty hands. silver wedding band on his right.

those slanted viridescent eyes of his catch your stare as he glares at you over the pitcher, swallowing and giving you a movie star smile with pearly whites. you smile faintly, returning the gesture. your heart pounds rapidly in your chest, shifting in your spot as you realize you’re biting your lips and almost riding the air. your blood is thrumming throughout your body, needing him to come inside right now.

the chicken pot pies are done in thirty minutes, each crust perfectly golden brown. and within that time, he’s still outside messing with his truck. you wanted to be understanding that he needed his truck in order to head to work tomorrow to further provide for you and the home as he does, but you can’t help that feeling of abandonment in your chest. you really didn’t want to cause an argument, but this was becoming irritating.

removing your apron, you slip on your outside shoes to head towards the garage where he resides, being faced with his broad back and gruff noises of agitation.

“baby.”

“yes, sweetie,” he replies quickly, groaning as he twists the wrench.

“dinner’s done. you’ve been out here all day. please come inside,” you pout, going to wrap your arms around his waist, laying your cheek on the column of his back.

eren removes his cap, scratching at his head before smoothing his hair back and placing it on again. “mhm, baby, i know. gimme like ‘nother hour, i just gotta connect the fuckin’ valve springs to the camshaft.“

“i thought it was just overheated?”

“yeah it was, the water pump wasn’t sending coolant through. the crankshaft wasn’t movin’, ‘n the radiator cap had too much pressure so the spring in the cap compressed ‘n flew over in the coolant reservoir. glad i ran to the auto shop beforehand.”

he’s saying a lot of shit you don’t understand if being frank. sighing, you let go of him, knowing he was real intricate with his truck so he definitely wasn’t going to be done in an hour. he stops what he’s doing to turn and face you, observing your expression.

“what i say about that, mama. huh?” eren sighs, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “don’t be givin’ me that face. i’m tryin’ my best right now. swear ima be in, i’ll make it forty-five instead.”

“that’s not the point,” you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “fuck the dinner, i want you to be with me. you’ve been out here since eleven in the morning. not once have you come inside the house ‘n checked on me.”

his jaw clenches, your tone expected but not what he wanted to hear right now. “i ain’t tryna argue with you.”

“then don’t, help yourself to dinner.”

“꒰♡꒱.”

turning with clear attitude, you stroll back into the house, honeybelle barking softly as she follows you around. you feed someone in the house, pouring kibble into her beige bowl before patting her head and watching her scruff down the food. by this point you’d lost your appetite, huffing and puffing in your kitchen as you set the food back into the oven and made your way up the staircase.

to cool yourself down, you decide to run yourself a bath. twisting the gold faucet to fill the clawfoot tub with hot water, crouching on your knees to swish the water around to help form the bubbles. it was fully dark outside now, lighting aromatherapy candles and opening the double vintage windows that overlooked the farm you and eren spent years creating. stars in the sky and clouds camouflaging. undressing yourself, you grab a novel off of the shelf and submerge yourself into the tub, closing your eyes in bliss and leaning your head back against the spa pillow that elevates your neck.

eren manages to take approximately thirty minutes to finish up his project, starting up the truck and test driving it before he sighs in relief to see she’s back in shape. after parking it back into the garage, whistling at the cows to get them to follow him back into the barn after much needed playtime, he’s finally stepping into the house. honeybelle skips towards eren, sniffing at his ankle and wagging her tail. eren smiles, patting the top of her head.

“where’s your mommy, girl. huh?” he coed, scratching under her chin.

his eyes scope the dining area, finding the table set up just for the two with candles that were half burnt, blown out. the homemade sweet tea in a pitcher leaking with condensation, ice cubes melted. the pie you baked was set into a glass cake stand, and the pot pies are settled into the oven under the light. it was definitely clear you were upset with him, groaning and putting a hand on his head. he truly didn’t mean to take away this day from you, aware of how much you’ve missed him. hours at work are longer since the power plants needed more tending to from low employment.

just last week he had to go out of town and leave you for an entire three days to travel to another refinery. in that time you’d tend to your farm while also helping eren’s father with his. you knew what this lifestyle would mean for your relationship. things around the house including you will be secure, but having him come home exhausted to the point where you rarely spend as much time as you’d like with him was difficult. at most he had two days off a week, but a lot of times they’d call him in because someone else didn’t show up.

you’ve suggested countless of times that he should switch locations, but this one provided better benefits and he was close to a promotion that would also guarantee him extra off time. ‘it just takes time, baby.’ he’d constantly tell you. and you’re not one of those wives that complain about every single thing to make her husbands life harder, the two of you rarely even argue, but you do have your moments where you’re too stubborn.

the heavy thud of his boots sounds in the home as he heads up the stairs, softly calling your name to see where you reside. with his hand on his toned stomach under his shirt, he finds you rested in the tub, head turned away as you sleep comfortably. his tall frame leans against the doorframe, watching you with a pout on his face. you look angelic, cloud white bubbles flowing around your body, the jets in the tub keeping them in tact, slowly dissolving. the tankless water heater he installed a while back kept the water warm, making you comfortable enough to drift off to light slumber.

he makes his way closer to you, crouching before you to brush the tendrils of curls dangling in your face. your breath is light, lashes feathering against your cheekbones as he caresses your jaw with his thumb. he bends to pull the plug and drain the tub, not fond of you sleeping in water. you didn’t have it too high up, but people drown in tubs a lot more than you think.

you hum gently, eyes opening to see him looming over you, studying him in silence. sitting on his behind, he grabs a pedicure knife to clean under his nails, tattooed arm dangling into the tub and under the running faucet to remove the impurities.

“don’t like you fallin’ asleep in the tub, sweetie. you could drown. this isn’t your first time doin’ that,” his brows deepen, grabbing a nail brush and applying some of your cashmere and goat milk soap you currently smelt of with to scrub at his manicured fingernails.

you bring your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms over your knees. “sorry.”

eren scans your face, eyeing the beauty of your entirety. perfectly white painted toes and matching nails, dark, big curls framing your face, slowly falling from the claw clip on the back of your head. the fullness of your lips with the cupids bow curve of them. soft skin, pretty eyes . . you were all his. such a beautiful wife. so when you’re mad at him, it makes him feel like shit. the way you look at him is different as well. your eyes are dead almost, a scolding glare in them.

“this day was supposed to be for us, i know,” he breaks the silence. “old shit was being difficult, ‘n you know i gotta drive far, sweetie. gettin’ ‘n a crash isn’t somethin’ you’d want happenin’ to me, right baby?”

the frown on your face serves how you feel about that. “i’d lose my mind if something bad happened to you.”

“ ‘n i’m not tryna guilt trip you or anything like that. i understand how you feel. i miss you just as much. i think about you all fuckin’ day at work. but, as time passes, eventually i’ll be in a better position ‘n you can have me with you whenever you want. jus’ lemme handle shit, okay?”

his strong hands go to caress your ankle, the silver jewelry shining there, lifting your foot to kiss at the shape of it, eyes low and focusing on you, unable to help the heat that swims within your hips and core.

“i really just needed you so bad today,” the sound of your throat clamping up causes him to go alert. you bow your head, wanting to hide your face as the tears threaten to spill. “it’s so stupid. i spent all that time pampering myself and cooking for us — i just hated being alone, even if you were still here.”

“c’mon, baby. why you cryin’ ? none of that. i’m sorry, truly,” he’s rising up on his knees, kissing at yours.

“missed you touching me,” you whimper, sniffling and pouting. “missed your kisses. i miss you.”

ah, so that’s what it is. he doesn’t make any effort to hide the smirk on his face, scoffing lowly while dropping his head. you can be such a brat when you’re horny, and given it’s been about two weeks since he’s last fucked you, he now gets why you begged for him to be with you today. quality time was still needed, but he can tell by the way your body tenses and your lips part to release tiny gasps while he strokes the pads of his fingers across your hips . . that you’re ovulating.

“that’s all you needin’, mama? some touches?”

salvia trails down your throat as you swallow, thighs squeezing together out of reflex, throbbing from those damned eyes of his, nodding with hooded lids. “mm hmm. so bad.”

“mm, yeah?”

the butterflies in your stomach swarm as he brings his face closer to yours, his touches on your skin causes you to grind when his mouth suddenly connected with your throat, your jaw widening as you gasp and toss your head back, his mouth sloppily kissing at the right side of your body. lips moving from your collarbone, each sound coming from him emphasized as he sucks at your chest, pulling your areola into his mouth and trailing his tongue down the side of your stomach, down to your hip and the crease between your thigh and waist. every kiss and lick is rough, his groans exaggerated as you moan from every touch.

“ooo, fuck. oh my god,” your hips can’t stop moving, his tongue gliding back up before his fingers indent into your cheeks, turning your face to his so he could kiss you roughly, sliding his tongue on yours.

eren doesn’t kiss you for long, detaching your lips with a lewd slick, both of your lips pouty before he’s arching over the tub and guiding his mouth along the left side of your body, repeating his motion of sucking and licking you. your eyes gloss back, spreading your thighs further apart when he gets closer to your pussy, swallowing your bottom lip inward.

he cocks his head back to lewdly spit over your clit, the string of saliva and the vein on the side of his thick neck making your face heat up. your mouth hangs open as he takes his fingers and slowly spreads it over, grumbling, "want me all over you," before rubbing your clit in smooth circles, groaning at the weak noises you made.

you were so needy, every touch he gives you consuming, a lust and desire looming over you that only he could give you. your hips twitch and hike midair, and your positive you've made your lip bleed by how hard you bit into it, doe eyes hazily watching his face. brows furrowed as he tentatively paced his fingers, repositioning himself so he could tug you down flat in the tub, your knees pressed to your chest as he clutches onto the sides of the tub.

“hold ‘em there, be good.”

a squeal envelops eren’s ears once he cranes his neck and drops his mouth over the puffy nub, enclosing his lips to kiss at your folds. your pussy is soaked, dripping between your ass cheeks, inner thighs twitching while he licks you up. the cap on his head continues to hold his hair back, his biceps flexing from every noise you make, trying to keep his composure. he wanted to make you feel real good, you deserve it, and he’s missed you.

“b—babyyy,” a mix between a groan and a whimper flows from you, keeping your legs open and squeezing at your chest hard, slowly rocking your pussy on his face, voice shuddering from the feel of his light stubble on your soft skin.

eren spanks the back of your thigh, dragging his mouth to soothe the feel after with an open mouth followed with more of his tongue. he loved tasting you, clearly. melting on the velvet of his tongue like sugar. his chin is doused by your slickness as he buried his face deep, circling your clit in languid strokes, lower lip dropping to bring it back into his mouth. you’re never embarrassed by how loud you get, knowing you’ll be reprimanded if you do keep silent. so a pathetic, drawn out whine fills the space when he removes his mouth.

“feed it to me,” eren hisses, spanking the back of your thigh again, french kissing either side of your ass. the hungry aggression through his eyes tell you to listen, his body almost entirely inside of the tub to make sure he’s giving you what you need the right way. “c’mon, girl.”

the gruffness in his tone makes you squirm, like he’s just as pent up as you. easing your hips up, you hold your legs fully up so they’re past your ears, gripping on his arm for balance as you dip your hips so your pussy connects with his face, your face curling up as he spits and slurps, your body trembling.

“mmmahh,” you weakly moan, chest heaving and breath stuttering, his tongue occasionally dipping into your hole to taste that sweeter place, eren grunting and bouncing his head along with your movements, teeth every now and then biting at your inner thighs. “g-g’na—squirt, f-fuck, nnnngh.”

eren acts on instinct, reaching to grab the back of your neck as your body arches forward to hold you so you won’t hurt yourself, swallowing at your achy bud as you coat his throat in your juices, humming and savoring every ounce. the static of your legs as you sing out your moans makes his dick harder, straining in the confinements of his jeans.

he pulls away, your body flat within the tub as he stands and undoes the leather belt on his waist, ears perking up from the sound of his zipper and then awaits the weighty girth of his dick. blush pink tip and tan with a protruding vein trailing up the underside. you find energy to lift yourself up, clinging to the side of the tub like a mermaid on rocks. reaching for the back of his leg to pull him closer, eren’s brows lowered at the sight of your eyes setting into seductiveness.

your mouth opens instinctively, giving him those big brown irises that has his dick jump in your face. eren’s waist spasm backwards, fingers grasping the coils of your hair to stop you. “no, no. not now. y’know you’ll make me cum too quick.”

“y’know you can’t fuck me till i taste it,” you pout, evidently upset, keeping your lips parted as a need to have it. “just a taste, daddy. i want it.”

“fuckin’ hell,” eren clenches his jaw, pupils dilating, lowering his jeans and boxers to his thighs to inch his dick to your lips. “yeah, jus’ a lil taste, baby. gimme those pretty lips.”

eren moans when you waste no time intaking half of his dick, tongue licking at the underside and slurping him up, bobbing your head and letting him hit the back of your throat in nasty squelches. his head falls back then to the side as he squeezes his eyes shut, attractive neck showcasing, grunting and slowly thrusting into your throat.

“f-fuck, ꒰♡꒱. love this sweet fuckin’ mouth of yours. show me that throat, baby,” two hands go to clutch your neck, eren pulling his dick out, salvia dribbling down your bottom lip. you widen your mouth, angling your face up so he can see your tongue in it’s entirety, the tight ring in the hollow of your esophagus calling him.

“good girl, take this shit deep,” he whispers painfully, teeth clamped together in a hiss as he lays the heaviness of his dick on your flat tongue, pushing in till his pretty, leaky tip connects with the back of your throat, constricting around him. “a-ahh, yeahh.”

you let him use you as long as he anticipates, eyes drooping low, trying to focus on eye contact with your nose mushed to his happy trail, the scent of the day and his cologne seeped into his skin. you heave when he pulls back entirely, whining and riding the air. he’s so damn masculine it makes you so feminine and submissive.

“one more time, hold it,” bending his back slightly, he slides back into your mouth, gently holding your neck in place to thrust a few times more, deep melodies of grunts and hisses pouring as he furrows his brows and studies how you made his dick wet and shiny, balls slapping against your chin.

with your mouth stretched open, you take him in as deep as he likes, closing your eyes to shut off your brain so you don’t choke. eren holds you there, huffing out ‘ooh fuckin’ god, baby.’ before smoothing his hand on the side of your face after he withdraws his hips to let you breathe, his own chest knocking from holding his breath.

“love you,” eren reminds you as he peppers kisses all over your face and you smile, a continuous gesture he’d do every time to make you aware, especially when he’s too rough.

the trance you have on his dick is sickening, following it as he maneuvered around the bathroom, retrieving a towel he spread on the lower part of the tub before entering, not bothering to take off his boots. you giggle as he hovers above you, biting at your nail and shifting your body beneath him so he could slot in. the weight of his cock lays on your stomach, eren grinding to rub along your folds, coaxing your hidden clit to show. eren steadies his figure, knuckles turning white from him grasping either side of the tub and holding himself up by indenting his feet into the towel.

“i fuckin’ need you,” eren growls, biting at your neck before licking and shifting his hips to nudge the tip against your opening, easily sliding in slow.

the warmth fills your face again, abdomen pinching from pain and pleasure, pawing at his slightly dirty wifebeater and hiking it further up his chest you were desperate to touch. the silver chain around his neck sways in your face, squinting your eyes and dropping your jaw when he begins pounding into you with the need he expressed. the sluice of your pussy is loud, his balls slapping against the rounds of your ass while your thighs hit his pelvis.

“this what you needed, right? what you been whinin’ for?” eren grunts in your face, taking your lips in his for passionate kiss, moaning together.

“y-yesss, mmmph,” the pleasure swarming in your stomach feels foreign, whimpering from every stroke he gives you, clawing at his sides. it felt so fucking good, your eyes scrolling and your breath inordinate along with his. “dick feel so good, ‘ren.”

“mhm hmm,” his face curls up, leaving an open mouthed kiss on your cheek and behind your ear, his touches making your body burn. “i hear it, she’s creamy as fuck.”

and it was, peering down between where you two connect to see him covered in you, the sticky slaps making his eyes lose focus, rutting into you harder. so hard it makes you scream, that sweet spot being pressured and your tummy flutters.

“e—ren,” you can barely see him, whines and whimpers being your only way of communication. spreading yourself wider by holding yourself open with both hands, arching your chest into his face where he sloppily eats at your brown skin again.

“talk.”

“annngh,” your lips turn into a pout, face completely gone. every word and sound coming out brokenly. “f-feelin’ something. s’so fuckin’ deep in me. you fuck me so good. w’na cum on it.”

“mhm, cum on it. cum on your dick baby, make it creamier.”

it’s quiet at first when you cum, legs shaking almost violently as eren lets go of the tub and lays his entire weight onto you, tucking you fully underneath to angle his hips and dig his dick in deeper, rough and steady pivots making you reach for his hair to tug, knocking off his hat. his fingers grip your cheeks, big hand almost covering your whole face as he brings his forehead to yours, growling rough.

“yess. give. it. to. me. lemme hear it.”

“g-god, y-yessss, fuck. right there, right there. please don’t fuckin’ stop . . oh my god.”

a long, exasperated groan disperses, vibrating in your chest and in his ears, hiccups and gasps following as you clench and suck him tighter. he feels the throb from your orgasm, dick twitching inside of you, rolling his waist and keeping you close to let you ride it out and feel it longer.

“take your time, there we go. feel it all.”

it pulsates harder from hearing him, grasping his wrist and releasing what’s been caged within you; a cry. “oh . . my . . g-god. eren!”

it’s not that you’re hurt, it’s that you’re experiencing too much at once. overwhelming pleasure, your husband’s embrace, the way he speaks to you, fucks you, the love you have for him, how he loves you, and even the annoying rise of hormones from your ovulation. a cry bolts from you, body convulsing and your voice dying out, grinding mindlessly on his dick and kissing his lush lips.

“that’s it, it’s okay.”

eren’s kissing all over your face, soothing you and giving you time before he holds you close to his chest and turns himself around so he’s leaning up, resting his head back on the spa pillow and twisting you so your back is to his chest. he balances your weight, taking the initiative to sling your right arm over his shoulder, eren smoothing his palms up the back of your thighs before locking your knees to your chest with his forearms.

“you good, baby?” eren whispers, smooching your cheek again.

chewing at your lips, you nod. “uh huh.”

eren moans as your fingers thread through the brown coils of his hair, tugging and planting a kiss on the shell of his ear, jumping slightly from the way he patted your pussy with his dick, sinking back in deliciously slow. with your lips parting in sync, eren flattens his feet to fuck up inside of you, your walls spasming from how good it feels and the sensitivity.

collecting the tresses of his messy hair, you fist it harder which makes him fuck you harder. your tits bouncing on your chest you fondle at.

“watch us,” he says, placing both of his hands on either side of your head to force your head down to stare at how he fucked you, keeping your legs locked with his arms.

the sloppy collision of your stickiness coating his cock that plunges into you roughly, his heavy hits making the both of you whimper. eren begins to grow so weak from being in your pussy and the hard labor he’d done today, and you can tell by the slowness in his pace after a few minutes. he’s throbbing hard, knowing he’s close to cumming, wanting to making him feel it too. he also had to get up early and still eat dinner, so did you.

“ ‘ren,” slithering your head from his grasp, you guide them to sit at your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh as you tug at his hair again and nibble at your bottom lip.

moving your body further up, you arch your chest forward and implant your feet flat to the surface, snapping your ass down to fuck him instead. eren tightens his hold on you, jaw slacking and squeezing his eyes shut while placing his forehead on your shoulder. you gasp, bouncing on him and constantly groping at your chest, skin clapping louder.

“you g’na cum in me, baby?” you speak with a whiny tone, taunting him.

“y-yeah, baby. please. bounce on that shit harder,” eren sucks at your side again, retracting his hand to land a harsh spank under your thigh, dangerously close to your cunt. “fuck, you do it so good, ꒰♡꒱. do it so good.”

“mmmm,” you smile drunkenly. “this daddy’s pussy, right?”

eren whines, and you love when he gets this way, so horny he lets his guard down. makes sounds he wouldn’t usually make. his tongue on you again causes your hips to stutter, that pressure building back up, a shaky moan pressing out the harder you fuck yourself on him.

“it’s daddy’s pussy. oooh, shit baby. don’t stop, i’m g’na bust all in your p—ussy.”

“all in my pussy?” harder, faster, you pounce your ass down, knees hiking and reconnecting as you drop down completely, feeling your orgasm near and riding him by scooting your ass on him.

“all . . in it— fuck. good girl.”

weakness fills your bones, loosing your balance completely, eren bellowing out curses and grunts as he locks his hand around your neck to pull your back to him again, swiveling his hips with yours while you both ride out the wave. heaving on the side of your face after he lays his cheek on yours, warm cum leaking into you while you gush all over him in exchange.

eren softly kisses at your shoulder, embracing you in his hold and moaning from your walls clenching on him. you can’t even find the energy to speak, enduring the comforting silence and weak breathing. rubbing your arms and molding his face with yours, skin to skin a necessity for him. rocking you side by side, smiling into his forearm he used to lock against your neck, inhaling the coconut fragrance in your hair.

“we need a shower, and that chicken pie i worked hard to make for you.”

“and that strawberry pie,” eren chuckles within the crook of your neck. “i’ll eat it all just for you.”

“you better.”

#eren x reader #eren smut #eren x you #eren x y/n #eren x black reader #aot smut #attack on titan smut #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x you #eren yeager x y/n #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager smut #eren jeager x you #eren jeager x black reader #snk smut #𓊆ྀི󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠 🫙 ˚⊹ 𓊇ྀི

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tr0physlaught3r · 6 months ago

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Dads that take your education very. very. seriously.

It’s not that others weren’t as smart as your father, it was that no one else could possibly understand his little girls mind the way he does.

Not to mention the prospect of other boys and girls distracting you from your studies, naturally you were pulled out of school only private tutors and his stringently designed curriculum for his little girl.

Dad that hand pick your homeschool uniform, ya know to establish routine and all , nevermind how short, tight, or sheer certain prices may be, or how long it takes him to dress you in the morning

Dad who uses his new uniform as an excuse to keep his hands on you, adjusting your buttons, toying with the skirt, tugging your sweater.

Reading in dads lap while he makes slow circles between your legs and up your thighs, remaining indifferent to your increasingly flustered body twitching against his crotch.

Getting kisses and caresses for doing well in your studies “all this and brains too? I really just have the perfect daughter don’t I?”

Getting swats and slaps for low scores and lazy habits because “how dare you take a good education for granted you brat”

You take it all no matter what because

“I wouldn’t put you through this if I didn’t love you”

Dad who hires his brother for your extra curricular activities, how else should he trust?

Getting to lounge and smoke in his study, that counts as study hall right?

Sitting behind you at the piano, “fixing your posture” during violin, being handsy must run in the family I guess

Private tennis with private warmups, hearing your uncle coo and mock you as he stretches you too far , trapping you under his body in a position that makes you squeak

“Aww poor baby, that just means your hips are too tight~

Field trips to the museum with uncle plugged up w no panties as you take notes, feeling his hand on your hip as he gently pushes you along “move along honey wouldn’t wanna make a scene would we?”

taking you to the library just to drag you to the back and suck you through your panties against the bookcases in the back “just keep a lookout sweetness, can’t help myself at the moment.”

#fauxcest #fauxc3st #1cky family #1cky sister #dadcon #dadcest #dad/kiddo #p3rv daddy #1cky uncle #uncle x niece

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cloudwisp · 5 months ago

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𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬 · 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧

contents: fluff. established relationship. you always sleep better when you're with him. 600 wc.

It’s been long since darkness cloaked the firmament and Sylus is absorbed in the tranquil silence of his studies overlooking documents and official records. A common routine given his atypical profession in dealing with illegal weaponry and other business practices that caught his interest. His fingers idly tapping against the armrest come to a halt when faint footsteps reach his ears. The sound draws nearer and closer with each pace and the corner of his mouth tugs upward into a smirk while he waits in anticipation.

“Kitten, shouldn’t you be in bed where I had left you?” Sylus meets your heavy-lidded gaze and registers your appearance as a cashmere blanket wraps around your shoulders and your hair tousled from what seems to be troubled sleep. Despite his question, he beckons you with a gesture and you settle across his lap, your body turning in towards him to nuzzle your face into his neck with your arms coiling around him. He gently shifts your weight closer to him for a more secure hold and lays a sweet kiss on your head once your movement stills.

“You’re more comfy… way more comfy. I prefer this much more.” You hum and return his kiss by brushing your lips against his skin. He can feel you ease into him as he studies your adorable sleepy face and his heart swells with so much love and tenderness for you. He loves it when you seek him out even when you've spent the entire day together and still can't get enough of him.

“Is that so? I suppose I’m more comfortable than a bed, huh?” He strokes your hair, lulling you deeper into your drowsiness and you can only muster a noise of contentment. He wonders if he can emulate the same sense of comfort you provide him when he’s resting his head on your lap. The sweet and intimate sensation of your fingers caressing through his silver locks with the lingering scent of your perfume makes everything seem right in the world even if just brieftly. “You know I can’t work when you’re in my lap like this. I have too many distractions that way. You and the cute way you snore.”

You grunt softly. “I do not snore… do you really want me to leave?” You slowly unravel yourself from him with a small pout on your lower lip, and he softens with the realization that maybe he shouldn’t have teased you when you’re laced with sleep. You feel something warm against your forehead through your bleary eyes, and he can’t have his darling feeling unloved and unwanted by mistake and he intends to remedy that. His hand reaches up and moves your head back where it was moments ago and you are pliant under his touch.

“Now, I didn’t say you had to go anywhere. Stay here with me. I promise you won’t get in the way.” Sylus cooes you gently, his hand smooths along your back and he rests his cheek against your hair as he savors the feeling of having you in his arms. “I love you, sweet kitten. Sleep now. I’ll hold you until you do.” You murmur you love him back and for a few minutes, there’s nothing but silence and the steady rhythm of your breathing as your consciousness begins to drift.

Sylus gazes down at you with a fond and affectionate expression, whispering quiet reassurances that he hopes will reach you in your dreams. He resumes skimming through the paperwork he was doing before, his actions slower and deliberate so as not to wake you. Although his focus has shifted, he enjoys having you here with him like this and he could certainly get used to it.

#ᨳ ₊˚ 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐩.𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 #sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus fluff #sylus qin #sylus lnd #sylus love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace

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okwonyo · 3 months ago

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﹙ ✉️ ﹚ ── NIGHT AFFECTION. in which ⸝ 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌.

엔하이픈 ⠀ ੭୧ ⠀ fem!rea 1100 non-idol au fluff established relationship ˊᯅˋ pet-names skinship kissing ⠀， receuil . . .

분지 ܃ rewriting a old work because why not :0

reblogs ⠀ꢾ꣒ ⠀ feedbacks please

HEESEUNG

he is never ashamed to ask for the things that he want. whether it’s the remote when he is too lazy to get it himself or a compliment for something he has done; he always asks.

he is not ashamed nor subtle about needing that good night kiss. and to emphasize on his point, he is not going to let you go to sleep until your lips connect with his.

he flops on top of you, his chest pressed against yours as well as his entire weight. “i can’t sleep,” he whines while you try to get him off of you. he bugs you, “i will die, kiss me.”

soon enough, he comes to find his position weirdly comfortable. he rearranges himself so he can hide his face in the crook of your neck, “i won’t get up until you kiss me,” he mumbles.

you laugh at the way his voice gets slowly quieter as be speaks, your boyfriend is already dozing off. he is already half asleep when you give him what he wants.

JAY

his reaction is quite funny. to him, it feels like his entire world crumbled in slow motion, right in front of his wide opened eyes. his goodnight kiss it is that important to him.

he doesn’t realize that he is staring at you. unintentionally, he is stuck in place without looking at anything but you, without even blinking once. he doesn’t realize that he is not laying down at the same time as you do, that is boring holes into your soul.

realization only hits him a few seconds after you turn off the light. “babe,” he calls you hurriedly, tapping your form in fear that you would fall asleep without him receiving his act of affection.

you turn around, turning on the light in an almost panicking and downright confused. he smiles fondly, “didn’t you forget something, princess?”

seeing that you genuinely don’t know what is happening and that you are almost falling asleep, he kisses you himself.

JAKE

he is already tucked in bed, teeth freshly brushed, skin shining due to his nightly skin care routine and he feels comfortable here, enveloped like a tacos in the covers.

it just feels too good, falling asleep after receiving a loving kiss from his beautiful girlfriend. he is so, so shocked when he realizes that you are not going to kiss him tonight. his eyes grow wide, his mouth falls agape.

he mimics the look of a kicked pupil as he watches you get under the cover without even giving him a glance.

he ponders, for a long moment, whether he should kiss you himself or just let it go. he is stays silent in hopes that his mind will successfully telepathically share his thoughts with you.

“doll,” he whisper, getting closer to your ear. “can you give me a kiss, please?”

SUNGHOON

the lack of his before-sleep loving affection would leave him all sour faced. he wouldn’t hide it either, he is annoyed and kiss deprived.

you catches his face while you are getting ready to close your eyes. but his eyes digging holes in your skin makes you laugh out loud. he looks like an angry cat.

you beat his chest playfully and with the softest giggle he has ever heard, and which makes his face arbor a more tender expression, “what’s wrong with you?”

shyness overtakes him when you laugh like that, he ends up avoiding your eyes as he fidgets with the covers. you study him for a moment until you realize what you’ve forgotten.

his cheeks are tainted with pink when you hold his chin between your index finger and your thumb. he leans in, closing his eyes and sigh when you kiss him.

SUNOO

he is bothered by it. to an extent that is a tad bit laughable. he finds himself utterly offended, downright shocked— he doesn’t have the time to be subtle about it. at all.

this is how you are supposed to say goodnight. when it’s time to drowse, a kiss is needed. even when you are apart, the kissy face emoji or a flying kiss behind your phone’s camera is necessary.

in all honesty, you are confused about his change of demeanor, given the fact that he was all smiley a few minutes prior. you find him with a small pout weighing on his pretty lips and don’t hear the things that he is grumbling under his breath.

there is no way that is falling asleep without what he wants. and he is in disbelief when he realize that you forgot. and instead of reminding you, he just huffs as he lays down with his back facing you.

he really does try to act like he doesn’t care, but after a dozen seconds in the dark, he trunks around and whisper, “hey, aren’t you forgetting something?”

JUNGWON

he could tell you. he tap your shoulder sweetly, watch you turn around as you wait for him to talk and tells you that you forgot his before-bedtime smooch, but he doesn’t.

of course, he takes it as an invitation to play with your mind a little, to make you curious, to make you wonder under his pleased gaze.

a bit before you turn off the light, he speaks: “you forgot,” with the context swallowed in his throat. it rings your curiosity instantly, and you don’t want to sleep anymore.

“jungwon,” he scoots closer to your circle of warmth. in the silence, he wraps his arms around you in the act of a loving embrace. “jungwon, what did i forget?”

he laughs when you push him away slightly to get his attention. in lieu of an answer, he decides to get his kiss on his own.

RIKI

he watches your every move. he follows you everywhere in the house, from the living room to the bathroom, to the bathroom to the bedroom. it is as if he is your shadow.

you want to laugh every time you turn your gaze to his direction, seeing how impatient he is for that goodnight kiss. he looks like he has never been kissed before.

his world crumble under his feet when you decide to withhold the kiss and purposely ignore his presence. a frown draws itself on his mouth as well as on his eyebrows.

silent treatment is what he gives you as a form of revenge. but he wants to kiss you really bad, you know. perhaps, his little vengeance doesn’t last very long because he jump when he hears he words, “i’ll find something else to kiss then!” coming out of your mouth.

he attacks you with wet kisses all over your face as a gentle punishment.

taglist open

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minbells · 1 year ago

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Men who are academically gifted, very smart and calculated, but somewhat clueless when it comes to love. He has a good reason for that though; nobody before you had caught his attention. Now that he’s found you, his heart is beating faster, cheeks heating up, fingers itching to reach out and hold you. His normally cool demeanour is crumbling. Did you cast a spell on him? He has a lot to learn about romance, and the good thing is that you basically have a completely blank canvas to paint on. He didn’t pick on any bad habits and he’s already a perfect gentleman.

He would do anything for you, he might not know much about being in a relationship, but he adores you. He is eager to learn about affection, dating, kissing, establishing a routine with you, loving you. He’s an act of service kind of person, eager to please and care for you. He’s the one reminding you of your appointments, making sure you eat enough and stay hydrated, taking care of you when you’re sick, helping you study or work on whatever projects that you have. Whenever he comes over, he cleans your dishes without even a second thought, and you felt bad at first to subject him to your messes until you realized that he loves doing those things for you.

He quickly learns how and when to hold your hand, what kind of dates you like, the pet names that make your heart skips a beat, how to kiss you until you’re breathless and wanting more. He’s also a very good listener, which is actually impressive since he seemed mostly socially clueless when you first met him. He takes an interest in all the things you like. He does research on your favourite music groups, he catches up on TV shows you enjoy so he can understand what you’re talking about when you mention them, and he tries to learn the recipes of your favourite meals. He has a whole folder in his notes app dedicated to gift ideas and things he wants to remember about you — your drink order, favourite restaurant, the flowers you like, the brand of a bag you were eyeing last time he went to the mall with you. He doesn’t want to miss anything.

He’s become completely attached to you and he’s so touch starved that he takes each and every opportunity to be near you and hold you in some way, usually burying his nose in your neck. He takes note of your sweet perfume then, mentally adding it to the list of things he knows about you, right next to the flavour of chapstick he tasted on your lips the last time he kissed you.

fushiguro megumi, todoroki shoto, shinso hitoshi, tsukishima kei, kozume kenma, armin arlert, tomioka giyuu, hayakawa aki, + all your favs.

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cumironi · 7 months ago

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FOREVER, OURS : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

& sum. the night before, you and your boyfriends talking about having kids. for them, having a child in these moments wasn’t the right decision, especially with them too busy with missions and averything, and the next morning, you just happened to be pregnant.

warning. established relationship au, fluff, bit angst, baby-trap, very-very suggestive start.

[☆] MASTERLIST

the soft glow of the bedside lamp bathed the room in a warm light as you relaxed in your shared bedroom with geto and gojo. the air was filled with a peaceful quiet, the kind that comes from being completely comfortable in each other’s presence.

geto was beside you, his attention absorbed in a book, the pages softly turning as he read. gojo was lying on the other side, his phone held loosely in his hand, occasionally tapping on the screen with a faint smirk.

you had your own book in hand, but you found yourself distracted. the comforting presence of your two boyfriends made it hard to focus. you glanced up from your page, watching geto's brow furrow slightly in concentration, then shifted your gaze to gojo, who was chuckling softly at something on his phone.

a contented sigh escaped your lips as you nestled deeper into the pillows, feeling the warmth and love that filled the room. there was no need for words; just being together like this was enough.

geto noticed your relaxed demeanor and couldn’t help but smile. he closed his book and gently placed it on the bedside table, shifting his attention towards you.

“you’re awfully quiet tonight,” he remarked, his voice soft and gentle. gojo, sensing the change in atmosphere, put aside his phone, and turned his gaze towards you. a mischievous look danced in his eyes, his smirk widening into a sly grin.

“are you enjoying the view or lost in thought?” gojo teased, his head tilted to the side as he studied your expression. geto chuckled, unable to hide the affectionate look in his eyes. “knowing you, you’re probably multitasking, thinking and ogling us at the same time.”

you glanced up at geto, offering him a small smile in response to his soft observation, then returned to your book without saying a word. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk; you were simply content, basking in the quiet comfort of their presence.

gojo, however, wasn’t going to let you off so easily. he leaned in closer, the corners of his mouth lifting as he tilted his head to meet your gaze. “not even a little kiss for us tonight?” he teased, his voice dripping with playfulness.

you scrunched your nose, pretending to ignore him, your eyes stubbornly fixed on the pages in front of you. but the faint twitch of a smile gave you away.

gojo chuckled, his smirk turning into a cocky grin as he saw through your little act. “oh, you’re playing hard to get tonight, are you?” he teased, his voice laced with amusement.

geto chuckled at your stubbornness. he knew you well, and he could tell that you were struggling to maintain your aloof act. he shifted closer, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back, giving it an affectionate squeeze. he, who had been watching with silent amusement, spoke up, “leave her be, satoru.”

but gojo pretended not to hear him, instead inching closer to you. “come on, just a tiny little kiss...” he practically begged, exaggerating his plea as he inched closer.

you barely had a moment to react before gojo snatched the book from your hands, his grin widening as he held it just out of your reach. “enough reading for tonight,” he declared smugly, setting the book aside on the nightstand. “it’s time you give us some attention.”

you shot him a mock glare, but couldn’t help the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. gojo's antics were relentless, and he knew exactly how to get under your skin.

“oh, so now you’re deciding my bedtime routine?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

gojo gave a dramatic sigh, as if the very idea of you resisting was unheard of. “exactly,” he quipped, his tone dripping with playful authority. “i mean, you can’t really blame us for wanting your undivided attention.”

geto, still chuckling at gojo's antics, slipped his arm around you, his fingers tracing gentle circles on your back. “don’t mind him,” he murmured softly, his eyes warm. “but... i have to admit, he’s right.” his voice softened, and his gaze met yours, a gentle, coaxing look that made your resolve waver.

you rolled your eyes, feeling your heart flutter at their combined attention. “fine, fine,” you conceded with a dramatic sigh, pretending to be exasperated, even though you secretly loved every second of it. “but you two better make it worth my time.”

gojo and geto shared a grin, pleased at your pretend reluctance to give them attention.

“oh, don’t worry,” gojo said with a mock seriousness, “we’ll make sure you’re well entertained... or should we say, ‘well-distracted’?” he winked at you.

geto chuckled, his hand still tracing gentle circles on your back. “what kind of entertainment do you prefer, my dear?” he asked, his voice low and sultry. “something more... physical, perhaps?”

gojo, unable to wait any longer, leaned closer, his lips just a breath away from your ear. his voice was a whisper, but the heat behind his words was clear. “i vote for physical.”

geto, sensing the tension, shifted his body closer to you, his chest now pressed against your back. his hand, which had been tracing gentle circles, now moved to your hip, his fingers gripping subtly. “i second that vote,” he murmured, his mouth now close to your neck.

a soft hum escaped your lips, the warmth of their proximity sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. you let out a quiet chuckle, savoring the anticipation in the air as their teasing words lingered. without another word, you slowly shifted, turning onto your back, so you could face them both. their gazes met yours—gojo’s eyes glinting with playful mischief and geto’s with a steady, affectionate warmth.

with a smirk, you leaned in just enough for your breath to brush against their skin, whispering, “i vote for the physical.”

gojo’s smirk grew impossibly wider, his eyes lighting up with a delighted spark as he chuckled softly. “finally, a unanimous vote.” his fingers found yours, intertwining as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a slow, deliberate motion.

geto, not one to be outdone, leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to the corner of your jaw, his hand resting comfortably on your waist. “looks like we’re all in agreement,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a gentle, comforting hum that only made your heart beat faster.

you sighed, content and caught between them, feeling completely wrapped up in their warmth and attention.

gojo, ever the impatient one, wasted no time. he moved closer, his free hand slipping under your shirt, his fingers tracing lazy lines against your stomach. the touch was light, a mere preview of things to come.

geto, the more patient of the two, continued to pepper soft kisses along your jaw, his fingers tracing light patterns on your hip. gojo, leaning even closer, his breath hot on your skin, whispered in your ear, “just say the word, and we’ll show you some real ‘physical entertainment.’”

geto chuckled, his lips against your jaw now moving down to your neck. he left a trail of soft, open-mouthed kisses, his hand on your waist pulling you closer to him. “we aim to please, y’know,” he added, his voice a hot breath against your skin.

your hand slipped up to cup gojo’s face, your fingers brushing softly along his hair as you guided his gaze to meet yours. the playful glint in his eyes softened slightly, replaced by a flicker of something more intense as he held your gaze.

“kiss me,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, each word laced with anticipation.

gojo’s smirk widened, his eyes darkening with a mix of eagerness and possessiveness. without a moment's hesitation, he moved in, closing the small gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a searing kiss.

his hand slid from your stomach to the small of your back, pulling you closer, his touch firm yet loving. gojo’s other hand cradled your face, his thumb stroking your cheek as he deepened the kiss.

as gojo poured his passion into the kiss, geto's hands wandered, sliding from your hip to your thighs, slowly moving up and under your shirt, his fingers lightly tracing against your skin. his head dipped, his mouth now on your neck, his kisses gradually becoming more heated as he began to leave a trail of soft hickies.

as gojo’s kisses trailed down to your jaw, then to the other side of your neck, his lips leaving a blazing path, a breathless moan slipped from your lips. your hands tangled in both their hair, grounding yourself in the heat of their touches. you felt the slow brush of geto’s fingers sliding up your thighs, his touch gentle yet purposeful, as his mouth continued to leave a trail of soft marks on your skin.

but as your gaze drifted up, your eyes landed on the ceiling—and there, among the glowing stars you’d carefully arranged, you noticed a few missing. a pout formed on your lips, and you sighed out, “aww… some of the stars are gone.”

as soon as the disappointed sigh left your lips, both gojo and geto let out exasperated groans against your neck, their frustration almost in perfect sync. you felt their warm breaths against your skin, both of them pausing their affections as they processed yet another one of your “star interruptions.”

gojo leaned back slightly, his forehead pressing to yours, his expression torn between amusement and disbelief. “really? again with the stars?” he asked, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth despite the situation. “we’re in the middle of something here, you know…”

geto sighed, though there was a fond smile on his face as he tilted his head to look up at the ceiling with you. his hand stayed firm on your waist, grounding you as he shook his head softly. “one day, we’re going to get through a night without you being distracted by constellations,” he teased, though his tone was warm and affectionate.

they both knew this wasn’t the first—or even the fifth—time you’d interrupted a heated moment with a sudden focus on the stars. it had practically become a ritual at this point. and although it was frustrating, the way you’d get so wrapped up in something as simple as the glowing shapes overhead was something they couldn’t help but adore about you.

you scrunched up your nose, pouting slightly as you looked at both of them. “i just don’t like missing stars,” you mumbled, sounding adorably stubborn, your eyes flicking up to the ceiling before back to their amused faces.

gojo and geto exchanged a knowing look, sighing in unison before both of them turned onto their backs, settling beside you but still keeping close. geto’s hand remained gently on your waist, his thumb tracing idle circles, while gojo let out a playful scoff, his arm resting just behind your head.

“only you would care this much about glow-in-the-dark stickers,” gojo chuckled, shaking his head with a smirk, though his tone was filled with affection.

geto couldn’t help but laugh softly, his fingers still tracing the same idle circles on your waist. “you really have a thing for those stars, huh?” he teased, his fond smile mirroring gojo’s.

gojo chimed in, propping himself up on his elbow to hover over you slightly. “you’d think they were real, the way you’re so fixated on them.” his smirk widened as he teased, his tone still playful. despite their slight teasing, both gojo and geto made no move to resume the heated moment from before. instead, they settled comfortably on either side of you.

you tilted your head to look up at gojo, rolling your eyes with a playful scoff. “i’m not stupid, satoru,” you huffed, crossing your arms with an exaggerated pout. “of course i don’t think they’re real stars.”

gojo grinned wider, clearly enjoying your reaction, while geto chuckled softly beside you, his fingers still tracing those comforting circles on your waist. “could’ve fooled us,” gojo teased, arching a brow as he settled back down beside you, still grinning like he’d won something.

you nudged his shoulder lightly, shooting him a mock glare. “just because i like them doesn’t mean i think they’re real.” your voice softened as you added, “they just… make me happy, okay?”

the playful grins on gojo’s and geto’s faces softened slightly at your admission. they both knew how much those stars meant to you, even if they didn’t fully understand your fixation.

gojo’s hand found yours, intertwining your fingers together in a gentle squeeze. “ah, so it’s an emotional attachment,” he teased, his tone more teasing than mocking.

geto, still tracing his thumb over your waist, chuckled and leaned in to place a soft kiss on your shoulder. “adorable as it is, it sure kills the mood…”

you rolled your eyes at their teasing, glancing back up at the stars with a faint smile. “it’s not an emotional attachment,” you insisted, though the truth lingered just beneath your words. your gaze softened as you fell silent, memories from childhood drifting through your mind.

a quiet moment passed, the playful mood shifting as you thought back to simpler days. you remembered how, as a kid, you’d admired the glowing stars on the ceilings of friends’ bedrooms—their dads hanging them up like tiny constellations just for them. in a way, those stars had always felt like a small, unreachable piece of normal life, something untouched by the rules and expectations of growing up in a sorcerer family.

you hesitated, then finally let out a soft sigh. “when i was a kid, i used to see them in my friends’ rooms,” you murmured, your voice just above a whisper. “i always wanted some for myself, but… well, my family wasn’t really the type to hang glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling.”

both gojo and geto listened in silence, their teasing remarks forgotten as they noticed the shift in your mood from playful to nostalgic.

gojo’s grip tightened around your hand, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles in a soft, reassuring gesture, while geto’s touch on your waist moved to gently rub small circles on your back, trying to offer a small comfort.

they exchanged a glance over your head, silently communicating, before focusing their attention back on you. gojo remained silent for a moment, waiting for you to continue, while geto let out a soft, encouraging hum.

gojo leaned in close, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek, his voice a gentle murmur against your skin. “first thing tomorrow, we’re getting as many as you want,” he promised, his usual playful tone softened with sincerity. “we’ll cover the whole ceiling—no, the whole house if you want.” he smiled, his eyes glinting with a determination to make up for what you’d missed.

he brushed a loose strand of hair from your face, his gaze filled with a mix of affection and resolve. “you’re gonna have the brightest ceiling in the world, and every time you look up, you’ll see all the stars you want, made just for you.”

you turned your head to the side, meeting gojo’s gaze with a soft smile. there was a warmth in his eyes that made your heart swell, and you could feel the sincerity in every word he had just spoken. without another thought, you leaned closer, resting your forehead against his.

“thank you, satoru,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. the words were simple, but they carried so much emotion, a quiet gratitude for his understanding and the gentle way he was willing to make up for what you’d missed.

gojo’s smile softened at your words, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of affection and tenderness. he knew how much those stars meant to you, and he was determined to make up for lost time. “don’t worry, my love,” he whispered, his hand gently caressing your cheek. “you’ll have a whole sky full of stars, just as you always wanted.”

geto, still tucked close beside you, listened in silence. his hand continued tracing soothing circles on your back, his touch gentle and comforting. he remained quiet, letting gojo take the lead.

you looked between them, a playful glint in your eyes as you couldn’t resist teasing. “you know,” you said with a smirk, “you two are going to be the best fathers.”

a moment of stunned silence followed your words. both gojo and geto were caught completely off guard, their jaws hanging open in surprise.

gojo recovered first, his stunned expression morphing into a mix of surprise and pride. a wide, almost giddy grin spread across his face. “fathers, huh?” he echoed, a hint of wonder in his voice.

geto chuckled, his hand on your back stilling for a moment before resuming its gentle circles. he shook his head, a softer smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “you’re getting ahead of yourself,” he teased gently.

you chuckled softly, the warmth of the moment making you a little bolder. “do you two think we’d actually start a family someday?” you asked, the question slipping out without much thought as your gaze drifted back up to the ceiling.

you didn’t notice how your words seemed to hang in the air, nor did you catch the unreadable expressions that briefly crossed their faces. gojo’s grin faded slightly, replaced by something unreadable, a flicker of deep thought behind his usually carefree eyes. geto’s hand on your back stilled again, his gaze turning contemplative as he glanced at gojo, a silent understanding passing between them.

as you looked up at the ceiling, blissfully unaware of the deeper meanings your words had unintentionally stirred, gojo and geto were quietly reflecting on your casual question. the air seemed to shift subtly with a hint of weight.

gojo’s grin disappeared, replaced by a soft, pensive expression. he averted his gaze, his eyes wandering to the ceiling to avoid your gaze. geto, on the other hand, was silently looking at gojo, his own thoughts mirroring the same contemplative expression.

the room was silent for a moment, broken only by the sound of your slightly heavy breaths. both gojo and geto remained thoughtfully quiet, their gazes trained on the ceiling.

finally, gojo broke the silence, his voice barely above a murmur. “it’s… an interesting thought, isn’t it?” he began, his tone casual, but his eyes betraying a hint of seriousness. geto kept his gaze fixed on the ceiling, his fingers resuming their gentle circles on your back. he hummed softly, a non-committal noise of agreement.

you turned your head slightly, gaze drifting to gojo’s face. he wore that familiar, unreadable expression—one that masked so much, but over the years, you’d learned to pick up on the faint traces of emotion he sometimes couldn’t fully hide. his eyes, usually so full of mischief or confidence, held a hint of something softer now, a depth he rarely let show.

after a moment, you let out a quiet “yeah,” a gentle agreement that felt like it carried the weight of a promise, even if unspoken. returning your gaze to the ceiling, you traced the shapes of the stars you’d carefully arranged above, feeling the warmth of their presence around you. it was comforting to imagine a future like this—a family, a home filled with stars, laughter, and quiet moments like these.

gojo glanced down at you, his eyes softening as he noticed the shift in your expression. he knew you well enough to recognize that gleam in your eyes—the one that hinted at a distant hope and longing. the corners of his mouth twitched into a small, almost secretive smile.

geto, too, observed the silent exchange, his own heart swelling with a mixture of tenderness and melancholy. he knew the ache for such a future all too well. gojo’s voice broke the silence again, gently drawing your focus back to the conversation. “you’d actually want that, huh?”

your voice was barely above a whisper as you replied, “i don’t want it if you don’t.” you kept your gaze on the ceiling, the faint glow of the stars casting soft shadows across the room, but you didn’t need to look to feel the subtle shift in their emotions. it was as if they both tensed, caught between the vulnerability of the moment and their instinct to shield you from it.

you could feel gojo’s hand go still, his thumb frozen mid-stroke against your knuckles. his usual confidence seemed to waver, a quiet uncertainty flickering beneath his calm exterior. meanwhile, geto’s fingers on your back faltered, his touch gentle, yet hesitant—as if he, too, was processing emotions he wasn’t ready to voice.

you waited, the silence stretching between the three of you. it felt like they were trying to redirect, maybe even shift the conversation toward something safer. but you stayed quiet, not wanting to push, but hoping they’d know that whatever path they chose, you’d walk it together, even if it means there is will be no family.

the room fell into a silence thick with emotion. gojo and geto struggled to maintain their usual composure, their thoughts and feelings clearly shaken by your response.

gojo’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, his gaze shifting from the ceiling to your face. he wanted to reply, to say something, but the words seemed to elude him. finally, geto broke the silence, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “it’s not that we don’t want it, love,” he began, his fingers resuming their gentle circles on your back.

both gojo and geto were grappling with a mixture of emotions, their responses a delicate balance between honesty and the need to protect you. they both knew that bringing a child into this world, as powerful sorcerers, came with a whole new set of challenges and dangers, and the thought of putting a child through that was a heavy burden to bear.

“it’s just… complicated, “ gojo admitted, his voice low and heavy. “we would give anything to watch you become a mother, to see you care for and nurture a little bundle of joy, but...”

his voice trailed off, his gaze wandering to the ceiling once more. geto continued for him, his tone gentle yet tinged with sadness. “it’s not a simple world, love. we’re constantly facing threats and dangers most people can’t even imagine. bringing a child into that world... it would mean putting that child at risk.”

their words settled over you like a weight, pressing down on your chest. you didn’t respond immediately, simply letting their voices fade into the quiet of the room. you’d known this reality, had seen firsthand the constant battles and dangers they faced as sorcerers. but hearing it laid out like this—so openly, so vulnerably—made it all feel painfully real.

as you kept your gaze fixed on the glowing stars above, a dull ache bloomed in your heart, a quiet longing mixed with acceptance. part of you had always dreamed of that future, of a family, of a little one with their combined stubbornness, strength, and warmth. yet, you knew the truth: the life you shared with them was far from ordinary, far from safe.

the silence stretched, each of you lost in your own thoughts, until finally, you whispered, barely audible, “i know...”

your words hung in the air, soft and wistful. you didn’t need them to make any promises or change their minds—you just wanted them to know that the thought of a future, even a fragile one, was something you held onto, even if it was just a dream.

the silence that followed your soft, wistful admission was heavy with unspoken emotions. gojo and geto both stared upwards, their eyes fixed on the ceiling, as if searching for the right words to say.

after a moment, gojo’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, his thumb tracing circles on your knuckles in a silent, comforting gesture. geto, still tracing those same circles on your back, let out a deep sigh, his heart heavy with a mixture of love and sorrow.

and then, in a hushed voice, geto spoke up, his words careful. “it’s not that we’re ruling it out entirely,” he continued, his voice low. “but it’s not a decision we should make lightly, knowing the risks involved.”

gojo nodded, his gaze shifting to you, his eyes slightly widened as he searched for the right words to comfort you. “it’s not like we don’t want it, love,” he repeated, his tone sincere. “we just… we want to give you everything you deserve, including a safe and normal life.”

there was another pause as the weight of their words sunk in. both gojo and geto were silently contemplating this complex, uncharted territory, struggling to find a way to express their emotions and fears.

then, gojo finally spoke up, his tone uncharacteristically vulnerable. “you know we both love you more than anything,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “we just want to make sure you’re happy, and that any child we bring into this world is safe. that’s our main priority.”

“we’re not saying no forever,” geto added, his voice softer now. “just… not right now.” he paused for a moment, his hand pausing its soothing motion on your back as he chose his words carefully.

“we’d want nothing more than to see you as a mother, but the life we lead… it’s not an easy one. and bringing a child into this world would be a responsibility we’d take seriously.”

the room fell into a heavy silence as your heart felt the weight of their words, the ache in your chest growing stronger with each passing moment. you didn’t say anything, your eyes still trained on the ceiling, though your thoughts swirled in a mix of disappointment, longing, and acceptance. it was hard to put into words the sudden heartbreak that came with realizing a dream might never be realized, at least not the way you had imagined.

geto noticed the subtle shift in your expression, the way your body seemed to fold in on itself, a sign that you were retreating into your own thoughts, maybe even into yourself. his heart tugged at the sight of you in such a quiet, vulnerable state. he could see the storm behind your eyes, the words you weren’t saying but felt deep inside.

sighing softly, he leaned in, his voice tender as he whispered, “come here.”

he slid his arm under your head, gently pulling you closer until your body melted into his. you didn’t resist, turning to lay on your side and burying your face in his chest. the warmth of his embrace surrounded you like a quiet sanctuary, the steady rise and fall of his chest offering a moment of comfort.

your arm instinctively wrapped around his waist, the action grounding you, as you sought solace in his familiar presence.

as you buried your face in geto’s chest, gojo let out a soft sigh, watching the exchange silently. his expression was a mixture of understanding and sadness. he knew your dreams, your hopes and longings, and seeing you so silently devastated was more painful than he could’ve imagined.

slowly, he moved closer, his body molding against your back as he wrapped his arms around you both, enveloping you in a protective embrace. his breaths were slow and steady, his chin resting softly on your shoulder.

the three of you lay there in a tangle of limbs and emotions, each of you lost in your own thoughts. the room remained quiet, the only sound being the soft inhale and exhale of breaths.

after several moments, gojo broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “i know it’s not what you wanted to hear, love.” geto’s arm tightened around you, his hand continuing to gently brush against your back, offering silent reassurance. he remained quiet, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, leaving it to gojo to continue.

gojo sighed, his breath caressing your skin as he spoke. “i’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice laced with guilt and regret. “i wish it could be different. we all do. but…”

he broke off, clearly struggling to find the right words, his hands clenching slightly around the fabric of your clothes. “we just want the best for you,” he murmured after a moment, his voice barely above a whisper. “and as much as we want to give you anything you desire, we can’t risk putting you in harm’s way.”

the room remained still, the only sound the soft rhythm of your breathing, as you lay between gojo and geto. the weight of the conversation still lingered in the air, but the tension seemed to ease as time passed. their presence, their warmth, was a comforting reminder that, in this moment, you didn’t have to carry the burden alone.

gojo had shifted slightly, his hand now resting on your back, fingers gently stroking the skin beneath your shirt. geto’s grip was steady around your waist, his presence solid and unwavering. both of them didn’t say anything further, allowing you to sink into the quiet comfort of their touch, not rushing you to speak or to feel anything you weren’t ready to.

the air was thick with unsaid words, but in that stillness, something comforting bloomed. the kind of quiet that spoke volumes in its own way. your eyelids grew heavy, the exhaustion from the emotional weight of the conversation finally taking its toll. your breath deepened, and slowly, the world around you started to fade.

the last thing you felt was the warmth of their bodies close to you, the steady heartbeat of geto beneath your ear, and the gentle pulse of gojo’s hand moving slowly over your skin. with a quiet sigh, you let yourself surrender to the moment, allowing sleep to pull you under, leaving the worries and complexities of the world behind for just a while.

as you slowly drifted off to sleep, both gojo and geto silently watched, their eyes filled with a mix of tenderness and worry. they remained still, not moving an inch, not wanting to disturb your finally relaxed expression.

the room was now filled with a deep sense of quiet, the silence broken only by the soft sound of your breaths and the steady beats of their hearts. they stayed like that, their arms wrapped around you, not willing to let go just yet. gojo, ever the more restless of the two, reached for the blanket and carefully pulled it over you.

geto’s eyes were still fixed on the ceiling, his mind swirling with thoughts. “i hate this,” he muttered softly, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your hip.

gojo let out a low hum of agreement. “yeah, me too,” he replied, his eyes never leaving your sleeping form. his hand continued to move gently over your skin, his touch a soothing comfort.

“it’’ll take some time,” gojo continued. “for her to accept it, i mean.” he paused, swallowing a lump in his throat.

gojo hummed softly, a small, smile tugging at his lips as he tightened his arm around you, pulling you closer into the warmth of his embrace. his hand found geto’s, gently intertwining their fingers, the quiet comfort of their touch a silent promise to stick together through the complexities that lay ahead.

“just a little while,” gojo whispered, his voice soft, almost tender as he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. his lips lingered there for a moment, a quiet vow, a reassurance to both you and himself that, no matter the uncertainties, they would face them together. the night fell around them in peaceful silence, the weight of the world momentarily forgotten in the safety of their arms.

geto, noticing the subtle shift in gojo’s demeanor, smiled to himself, his fingers gently intertwining with gojo’s in return. he watched silently as gojo leaned down, pressing a kiss on your forehead before settling back down.

“yeah,” geto murmured, his own voice carrying a hint of determination. “just a little while. she’ll come around. she always does.” he paused, his eyes flickering to gojo’s face briefly. there was a silent understanding between them, a silent reassurance that they would weather whatever storm came their way, together.

the following morning, as the three of you prepared for work, gojo and geto were in the bedroom, focused on getting into their uniforms and gathering their things. however, despite the usual morning routine, you were nowhere to be seen.

gojo pulled the black compression shirt over his head, glancing over at geto as he adjusted his own uniform. his brow furrowed in mild confusion, the quiet of the room making it a bit strange that you hadn’t appeared yet.

“hey, where is she?” gojo asked, his voice a little more casual than his growing concern. “i haven’t seen her in, what—twenty minutes?"”he added, pulling at the collar of his shirt to straighten it, a faint edge of worry creeping into his tone. his eyes scanned the room, as if expecting you to pop out from somewhere.

geto, busy fixing his own uniform, glanced up at gojo’s question, a hint of concern mirrored in his expression. “now that you mention it, she’s taking longer than usual.” he said, his eyes darting around the room as well, almost as if he expected you to magically appear from behind a lamp or under a sofa.

his hand paused in the process of buttoning his shirt as that familiar flutter of worry settled in his chest. “maybe she’s in the bathroom?” he suggested, his voice betraying just a hint of unease.

gojo nodded in agreement, though his brow remained furrowed. “yeah, probably,” he replied, his movements a little more restless as he paced around the room. the silence that followed made the air feel heavy, the usual lightness of the situation now replaced by a palpable sense of anxiety.

he turned towards the bathroom, his hand reaching out for the door handle. “i’ll just check on her,” he said, his voice taking on a more firm tone as he prepared to push the door.

on the other side of the bathroom door, you stood there, gripping the edge of the towel wrapped tightly around your body, the soft fabric bunched under your clenched fingers. you looked down at the small, plastic test in your hand, eyes fixed on the faint, unmistakable two lines. each heartbeat felt louder than the last, pounding against your chest with a mix of dread and overwhelming anxiety.

it wasn’t happiness filling you—not the joy or excitement you’d thought might come if you ever held a test like this. instead, a wave of panic rose, cold and sharp, twisting tightly in your stomach. your hand, gripping the towel, started to tremble, and you couldn’t stop it.

strands of your wet hair clung to your bare shoulders, the droplets cooling against your skin but doing little to steady you. your forehead felt damp, from the lingering steam of the shower and from the sudden heat of panic rising within you.

your mind began to replay the conversation from the night before, fragments of their words coming back in echoes—soft, serious voices admitting fears and reasons. you remembered gojo’s tender but worried tone as he said, “we want you happy, but bringing a child into our world… it’s not the right time.” and geto’s gentle yet sad agreement, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he whispered, “not right now.”

and here you were, facing the reality of it, holding proof of something neither of them were ready for. your gaze drifted over the faded lines on the test, your chest tightening painfully as you tried to breathe through the waves of panic. it felt like the ground beneath you had shifted, leaving you unsteady, your hand shaking even as you tried to steady yourself.

the air in the bathroom felt stifling, the walls closing in on you. the sharp edge of panic pressed down, constricting your chest as you stared down at the two lines. your damp hair clung to your skin, feeling cold and damp against your shoulders, but it did nothing to cool the heat of fear coursing through you.

you felt like you were drowning in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. the memory of last night’s conversation echoed through your mind, the gentle yet firm words of geto and gojo replaying in your head.

a sudden knock on the door made you jump, nearly dropping the test pack. gojo’s voice filtered through, soft but laced with concern. “hey… everything alright in there, love?” he asked, his tone casual but curious as he meet with geto’s gaze.

swallowing hard, you forced your voice to sound steady, even though it felt like every breath was caught in your throat. “y-yeah, i’m alright,” you managed to say, though the tremor in your voice betrayed you. your gaze flickered to the door, heart pounding faster with the fear of what lay ahead. you could picture gojo’s face, his lighthearted smile shifting into something more serious, and the thought was enough to make your stomach twist.

you looked down at the test in your hand, the two faint lines glaring back at you like an undeniable truth. images flashed through your mind—imagining their reactions, the shock, the inevitable disappointment, and maybe even anger. you thought of the conversation from last night, their careful words about timing and the dangers of their world, and your chest tightened further. how could you tell them now?

another knock, firmer this time, pulled you back, followed by gojo’s slightly more insistent voice. “love are you hurt? you’ve been in there forever…”

his tone was still light, but the concern was undeniable, and you could imagine his brows drawn together, maybe even a worried frown. you knew you couldn’t stay hidden in here much longer, couldn’t keep the truth hidden from them… but you had no idea how to say it, or what would come after.

gojo’s voice carried through the door again, sounding a little more urgent now. “come on, say something,” he coaxed, his tone still light, but the concern was clear. “you’re starting to scaring us…”

he paused for a moment, listening closely for any hint that you were okay, while geto stood behind him, his usually unreadable expression betraying a hint of worry. the silence that followed was deafening, and gojo’s hand hovered over the door handle, clearly contemplating action.

his patience wearing thin, gojo eventually knocked again, firmly this time, his hand clenching the handle. “please, just say something,” he said, his voice a little more stern, the worry now edged with frustration.

gojo’s mind was racing, a thousand different scenarios playing out at once. each passing moment, the silence from the other side of the door only heightened his anxiety, the knot in his stomach growing tighter with each second.

geto spoke up then, his voice joining gojo's. “love, please,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “open the door, or we’re coming in.”

the air was thick with tension as they waited, giving you a moment to respond, to open the door, to do anything to alleviate their growing concern. but when no response came, gojo’s hand grasped the door handle, ready to push it open.

the door creaked open slowly, and you stood there, framed in the doorway with a fragile, almost vulnerable expression that made both gojo and geto go completely silent. their gazes softened instantly, and they could see the unshed tears shimmering in your eyes, the way your hand trembled as you held onto the door, and the nervous, uncertain look on your face.

gojo’s usual lighthearted demeanor disappeared as he took a small step closer, his brows knitting with concern. “hey… what’s going on?” he asked softly, his voice gentle as though afraid to startle you.

geto’s eyes flicked to your hand, clenched tightly behind your back, noticing the way you seemed to be trying to hold something out of sight. he shared a quick look with gojo before he took a steadying breath, his voice low and calming. “we’re here,” he murmured. “whatever it is, you can tell us.”

you took a shaky breath, gathering the last bit of courage you had, feeling the weight of the words stuck in your throat. “i… i need to tell you something,” you whispered, barely able to meet their eyes. you glanced down, biting your lip, feeling the anxiety and panic rise in waves. every word felt like a mountain to climb.

their expressions turned serious, sensing the gravity of the moment. gojo reached out, taking your trembling hand in his and squeezing it gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he waited with quiet patience. geto stepped closer too, his hand resting on your shoulder, grounding you in his steady presence.

“take your time,” gojo encouraged softly, his voice a tender murmur. “whatever it is, we’re not going anywhere.”

you stood there in silence, eyes downcast, feeling a tear slip past your resolve despite your best efforts to hold it back. the weight of the decision, the heartache, and the fear mingled together in a painful tangle, twisting in your chest. you knew what had to be done, knew that bringing this up meant making a choice you never wanted to face alone—but the thought of their reaction left you frozen.

gojo’s fingers tightened around yours as he noticed the tear slipping down your cheek, his eyes widening with worry. he tilted his head to try and catch your gaze, his own expression softening with concern. “hey… please, talk to us,” he murmured gently, his voice a mix of desperation and warmth.

geto’s hand on your shoulder gently guided you closer, his thumb rubbing small circles in an attempt to soothe you. he could feel the tension, the weight of something unsaid hanging in the air, and he waited patiently, his own heart aching at the sight of you struggling. gently, he guided you to the bed, sitting you at the edge.

gojo and geto sat on either side of you, their gazes fixed on your face, watching the flurry of emotions flicker across your features. gojo's hand remained clasped around yours, his touch a silent reminder that they were there for you, whatever you had to tell them. geto's hand continued stroking your shoulder, a soft and steady rhythm that spoke of comfort and quiet reassurance.

the silence felt heavy, almost suffocating, as they waited for whatever you were ready to say. the air was thick with anticipation, both of them bracing themselves for whatever revelation might be coming.

gojo’s eyes narrowed as he noticed you hide your other hand behind your back, a subtle but unmistakable movement that sent a wave of unease through him. something was wrong, he could feel it. without saying a word, his hand reached out, gentle but insistent, as he tried to pull your hidden hand from behind your back.

you stiffened, your fingers curling tighter around whatever it was, as if trying to shield it from him. gojo's gaze softened, the concern growing in his chest. “my love,” he said, his voice a tender murmur, yet the underlying firmness was unmistakable. it wasn’t a demand, but a soft warning, a gentle plea for you to let him in.

you hesitated, your grip firming even more in a silent protest, but after a moment, you relented. your hand trembled slightly as he slowly eased it from behind your back, and as his fingers wrapped around yours, the testpack in your hand was finally revealed.

gojo’s heart skipped a beat as he saw it. he didn’t need to say anything. the sight of it—the faint two lines—spoke volumes. his gaze flickered from the testpack to your face, your tear-streaked expression twisting with emotion. his frown deepened, not in anger, but in confusion, concern, and something that could only be described as a heavy ache in his chest.

you whispered barely above a breath, the words tumbling out with a rawness that pierced through the silence. “i’m… i’m pregnant,” you said, your voice breaking, filled with sorrow. “i’m so sorry...”

gojo’s gaze remained fixed on the test pack for a few seconds, his mind struggling to process the words that just came out of your mouth. he could feel his heart pounding faster in his chest, a mix of shock and disbelief coursing through his veins. he glanced up at you, his eyes taking in your distraught expression, the tear-streaked cheeks, and the way you were clenching your jaw.

he opened his mouth, as if to speak, but no words came out. geto, meanwhile, remained silent on your other side, equally stunned and trying to process the news.

the moment the words left your lips, a heavy silence settled between the three of you. gojo and geto exchanged a quick glance, a silent conversation passing between them. their eyes were filled with unspoken questions, concern, and something deeper—fear, perhaps. they both understood the weight of the decision you were implying, but neither one of them was prepared for it.

but before either of them could speak, you whispered again, your voice barely audible. “you don’t have to worry,” you said, the words tumbling out in a rush, as if saying them would make everything easier. “i’ve decided... i’ll terminate the baby.”

the air around you grew thick with tension, each word sinking into the space like a stone dropping into still water, sending ripples through the atmosphere. your hands trembled, and even though you tried to mask it, the pain in your eyes was undeniable.

gojo’s heart dropped, and geto’s expression darkened, the weight of your decision settling heavily on both of them. they couldn’t even begin to process the gravity of it, and yet, they knew how deeply conflicted you must’ve been to come to that conclusion.

the moment geto heard the words “terminate the baby,” his heart seemed to stop. his face twisted with a mixture of shock and disbelief, the gravity of your statement weighing heavily on him. without hesitation, he quickly responded, his voice thick with emotion, “no.”

there was a brief pause before he spoke again, this time his tone softer, more pleading. the corner of his lips twitched, as if trying to fight back the ache in his chest. “please, don’t,” he whispered, his voice strained but full of desperation. “it’s our baby,” he continued, his hand gently running through your wet hair, his fingers trembling slightly as they found their way to your scalp, offering a touch of comfort even as he struggled to control the flood of emotions within him.

his words, so gentle yet laced with an undeniable pain, were a stark contrast to the harshness of his initial reaction. he wanted to be strong for you, for the both of you, but in that moment, he was vulnerable, his love for you and the child you carried too strong to ignore. his other hand rested on your shoulder, trying to ground you, to offer reassurance that this decision didn’t have to be made alone, that they would support you no matter what you chose.

“satoru and i... we’re here,” geto murmured, his voice barely audible as he gazed at you with a mixture of love and concern. he was desperate for you to understand that there was no need to face this alone, that they were both willing to take on this responsibility with you, together.

your head snapped up at geto's words, your eyes wide with confusion, as if you couldn't understand what he was saying. the tremble in your hands grew more apparent as you blinked, your mind racing to catch up with the reality of the situation. “but... i thought you didn't want the baby,” you choked out, your voice breaking with a mixture of confusion and hurt.

the words seemed to tumble out of you, your thoughts jumbled, but there was a clarity in the pain in your chest. you hadn't imagined this moment going like this. you'd prepared yourself for the worst—the disappointment, the anger, the rejection. but instead, here they were, offering you support and pleading with you to reconsider.

your chest tightened, and the weight of your emotions pressed down on you like a vice. your eyes were still red from the tears you had fought so hard to keep back, but now, they welled up again, threatening to spill over. your voice cracked as you tried to make sense of it all, your heart torn between the fear of what could come and the love they were offering.

“i thought you... didn’t want this,” you repeated softly, almost to yourself, your eyes searching their faces for some sign that this wasn’t all a misunderstanding. “you said... you weren’t ready.”

geto’s heart ached as he heard your voice break, the confusion and hurt apparent in your words. he could see how much this decision was weighing on you, the weight of the situation clear on your face. he shared a quick glance with gojo, both their expressions mirrored with pain and uncertainty. he knew you hadn’t expected this reaction, hadn’t prepared yourself for their support.

“we...” his voice cracked at first, his own emotions threatening to break through, but he steadied himself and continued. “we never said we didn’t want this.”

gojo, who had been quietly listening for the most part, found his voice in that moment, his words a gentle but firm reassurance. “baby, we were surprised,” he said, drawing your attention to him. his expression softened as he met your gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and love.

gojo reached out, his fingers gently taking some of your damp hair and tucking it behind your ear, his touch a tender caress. “but we would never in a million years refuse the gift of a child that we love and want with all our hearts.”

you felt a wave of relief and confusion wash over you as gojo spoke, his voice steady and warm. it was as if the air had shifted, and your heart began to slowly unclench, but the anxiety still clung to you. his words, though reassuring, had made you realize just how panicked you had become, all the while assuming the worst.

you bowed your head, guilt flooding through you as you tried to gather your scattered thoughts. “i’m sorry,” you whispered, the words slipping out shakily. your voice was small, fragile, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile sense of hope you were starting to feel.

“i... i just got so confused,” you admitted, your voice cracking slightly. “i was just so scared... especially after what you said last night. i didn’t know what to think.”

your hand tightened around the edge of the blanket, the tension in your body slowly easing as you tried to make sense of it all. you couldn't meet their eyes fully yet, still too embarrassed by your own reaction. you had misunderstood them, let fear dictate your actions, and now you felt as if you had been too quick to assume the worst of them.

“i was just... so scared,” you repeated quietly, your voice barely above a whisper, but the words carried the weight of your emotions.

as you spoke, expressing your fear and confusion, gojo and geto’s expressions remained soft, their eyes filled with a mix of understanding and tenderness.

gojo gently placed his hand on top of yours, his fingers interlacing with yours in a comforting grip. “love, please listen,” he murmured, his voice soft yet firm. he paused for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before he continued.

“i’m sorry we made you feel that way,” he began. “i didn’t mean to give you the impression that we don’t want this baby.”

geto, on your other side, leaned in closer, his face close to you, his eyes fixed on yours. he reached out and placed his hand on your shoulder, his touch gentle but reassuring. “we were just surprised, that’s all,” he muttered softly. “we hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.”

gojo gently pulled you into his lap, settling you comfortably against him with your legs dangling lightly in the air. his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close, his warmth seeping into your body. his fingers traced lightly over the towel wrapped around you, his touch soft but full of meaning as he let his hand rest on your stomach.

he met your gaze with a steady, reassuring smile, his eyes full of unwavering support. “hey,” he murmured softly, his voice calm yet filled with conviction. “me and suguru, we’re not going anywhere. we’re always going to be here for you, through everything. you don’t have to face this alone.”

he smiled again, his thumb running gently over your stomach, a quiet promise in his gesture. “for a while, you’ll come around, love. i know it’s a lot right now, but you’ll see. everything’s going to be okay. you’re going to be the luckiest girl, and our child? they’ll be the luckiest too. because we’re going to keep you safe, comfortable, and happy. here, with us. only us.”

his words, full of love and certainty, wrapped around your heart like a warm blanket, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to believe it.

geto, watching the interaction between you and gojo, couldn’t help but feel a mix of relief and tenderness at the sight. gojo’s words had clearly made an impact on you, and he could see how your rigid body was starting to loosen up slightly, the tension in your muscles slowly ebbing away.

he leaned closer towards you, gently taking your hand in his own. he gave it a reassuring squeeze, his fingers tracing tiny circles on your skin. “he’s right, you know,” he mumbled gently. “we’ll always be here for you. and for our baby.”

your heart swelled with emotion as you looked from geto to gojo, taking in the sincerity in both of their faces. the fear and uncertainty that had been gripping you so tightly finally began to loosen, replaced by a comforting warmth that their words and presence brought.

you nodded softly, a small, grateful smile tugging at your lips as you whispered, “thank you… thank you both, so much.” your voice was barely audible, but the gratitude in it was clear.

with a gentle sigh, you leaned your head against gojo’s chest, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart beneath your cheek. his hand remained at your waist, his hold protective yet tender, while geto’s fingers continued to trace gentle circles on your hand, grounding you.

gojo felt your weight lean into him and his heart melted. he shifted a bit, wrapping one arm more fully around you, pulling you even closer. his chin rested on your head, his other hand still on your stomach, fingers tracing soft patterns into your skin, feeling the gentle rise and fall of your breathing.

geto’s eyes followed the movement, a tender smile on his lips. he watched you both for a few moments before leaning in, pressing a gentle kiss onto your temple. “we love you,” he murmured against your skin. “always.”

gojo’s tone was soft yet unwavering as he brushed a hand along your cheek, meeting your eyes with gentle determination. “you’re not going to work today, love,” he murmured, his voice leaving no room for protest. “we’ll talk to yaga, and we’ll be with you the entire day. just rest.”

before you could say anything, gojo leaned down, his arms sliding beneath you as he lifted you effortlessly, his grip both steady and comforting. he held you close to his chest, the warmth of his embrace easing some of the lingering tension in your body. as he carried you over to the bed, you could feel his heartbeat—a constant, soothing rhythm that seemed to match your own.

he set you down gently, his fingers brushing over your skin as he slipped the towel from your shoulders, leaving you bare. his touch was careful, almost reverent, as he tucked you in with the soft blankets, smoothing them over your form to ensure you were wrapped in warmth. his gaze softened as he made sure the blanket cocooned you, his thumb gently tracing along your shoulder, a silent promise of his care.

“just rest now, sweetheart,” he murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face with the back of his hand. “you’ve been through enough for today… don’t want to stress our baby mama,” his words were a quiet vow, full of love and unwavering support.

geto watched the scene in silence, his heart full of tenderness as gojo took care of you with such gentle yet assertive actions. he could see the exhaustion in your eyes and knew that you needed this moment of rest. the way gojo was handling the situation showed a side of him that many rarely got to see—a caring and nurturing side that was normally buried under his carefree demeanor.

he moved across the room, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand resting lightly on your leg over the blankets. “don’t stress about anything,” he echoed gojo’s sentiment, his voice a soft, soothing murmur.

you felt the weight of their love and care surrounding you, and despite the emotional rollercoaster you had just been on, a sense of peace washed over you. your body felt lighter as you allowed yourself to relax into the bed, the warmth of the blankets and their presence making everything else fade away.

with a soft, content smile playing on your lips, you looked at both of them, your voice a soft whisper, “i love you,” you said, your eyes filled with an innocent, trusting affection, all naive and clueless. your heart swelled with the deep love you felt for them, and the reassurance they gave you in that moment meant everything.

gojo, sitting close by, smiled down at you warmly, his eyes soft with admiration as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “we love you, too,” he murmured, his voice full of affection.

geto, his hand still resting on your leg, leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. “always, baby,” he whispered, his voice low and steady, a quiet promise that you’d never be alone.

with those words, your eyelids fluttered closed, the exhaustion from the past hours finally catching up to you. your breathing slowed, and you felt yourself drift into a peaceful sleep, knowing you were safe, loved, and cared for by the two people who would always be there, no matter what came next.

as you finally let yourself relax and drift off in a peaceful sleep, gojo and geto both let out a soft sigh, the relief in the room palpable. they both settled in, each on either side of you, close enough so that you were completely surrounded by their presence.

for a while, there was just silence, both of them quietly watching you sleep, their own thoughts swirling in their heads as they took in the sight of you in this vulnerable state. after a moment, gojo broke the silence. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen her look that scared,” he murmured.

as you finally slipped into a peaceful sleep, the quiet settled over the room, but the atmosphere around gojo and geto seemed to pulse with an unspoken energy. they both let out a collective sigh of relief, the weight of the situation lightening just a little as they watched over you. there was something deeply comforting in knowing you were finally able to rest, and yet, something else simmered beneath the surface—an undercurrent of tension and darker thoughts that only they fully understood.

geto, now standing at the edge of the bed, observed your sleeping form with a level of intensity that sent a shiver down the room’s spine. His usual composed demeanor softened only slightly in the quiet, but there was something unsettling about the way his gaze lingered on you. his fingers subtly curled into the fabric of his pockets, his posture relaxed yet controlled. his eyes, usually calculating and sharp, softened at the sight of you so vulnerable, so at peace, yet underneath that tenderness, a quiet, twisted amusement began to build.

he hummed softly under his breath, as if trying to savor the moment, the silence between the three of them a thick layer of unspoken emotions. he leaned in a little closer, his breath barely audible, his gaze unwavering. As his lips curled into a smile, it wasn’t one of kindness or affection. no, this smile was darker, more sinister—a slow, knowing curve that spread across his face, one that seemed to stretch wider with each passing second. it was as if the moment had awakened a part of him that had been lying dormant, a part that thrived on control, on manipulation.

the smile deepened, almost to the point of being maniacal, as his eyes never left your face. the vulnerability you displayed only made it worse for him, feeding something twisted and possessive within. his eyes darkened as he muttered under his breath, his voice low and controlled, yet thick with an undercurrent of satisfaction. “good,” he whispered, a single word that carried the weight of far more than just the moment. it was a word wrapped in meaning that only gojo could fully comprehend.

his smile grew more pronounced as he repeated the sentiment, his voice soft but deliberate. “she’ll come around. eventually.” the words, so simple, carried the venom of a promise, one that was not comforting but instead laden with a subtle threat.

gojo, though silent for a moment, couldn’t stop himself from responding to geto’s words. his lips tightened, his jaw setting slightly as he tried to suppress the subtle twitch at the corner of his own lips. the smile that pulled at the edge of geto’s lips was infectious, and the darker undertones in the air did not escape him. he understood that geto was speaking in a language they both shared—a language of control and manipulation, where the line between care and cruelty blurred into something much more dangerous.

for just a moment, the two of them stood in a charged silence, each aware of the shifting dynamic between them. the tension between gojo and geto was palpable, an undercurrent that you would remain unaware of for now. but in this brief moment, a shared understanding passed between them—an understanding that their influence over you was just beginning, and that they would both ensure that you came around to their way of thinking, whether you realized it or not.

the unspoken connection between them, the quiet shift in their relationship, was something you would not yet recognize, ever. but it was there, simmering beneath the surface, a storm just waiting to break.

gojo’s lips pressed together in a hard line as he fixed geto with a glare, the tension in his gaze like a quiet warning. for a moment, his usually lighthearted expression had vanished, replaced by something almost dangerous. but even as he tried to maintain his irritation, the corner of his mouth betrayed him, twitching with the beginnings of a smile that he couldn’t quite suppress.

“cut it out,” he muttered, his voice low and dripping with barely concealed annoyance. “she’ll know what we do if you don’t stop acting like a maniac and a fucking psycho.”

geto merely chuckled, his laughter a soft and unnervingly calm sound that held no remorse. his smile didn’t waver—in fact, it only grew wider, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint as he gave gojo an innocent look that didn’t fool him for a second. “what’s the matter?” he asked, voice smooth and teasing, as if daring gojo to go on.

despite himself, gojo felt his own irritation start to melt into something else entirely. the smirk that had threatened to break through finally won out, his lips curving into a smile he couldn’t hold back. his gaze softened as he looked down at you, brushing a few stray strands of hair behind your ear with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the underlying edge in his voice.

“she’ll know we’re the ones who got her pregnant on purpose,” he murmured, eyes flicking back to geto with a knowing glint, “if you doesn’t stop acting like that.”

there was something darkly playful in his words, a mixture of affection and mischief as he spoke. it was a subtle acknowledgment of the deeper intentions that lay beneath their actions, a quiet understanding between him and geto that the two of them were deeply entwined in a plan that only they fully understood. as he looked at you, resting peacefully and oblivious to the weight of the conversation, he felt a surge of possessive affection, a fierce desire to keep you close, safe, and entirely theirs.

geto’s smile only broadened at gojo’s words, his eyes gleaming with a feral flicker that belied the affection and playfulness in his own tone. he chuckled softly, as if enjoying the twisted game they were playing.

“what, and spoil the fun?” he said, his voice lilting with a wicked sort of amusement. his gaze returned to you, his expression one of smug satisfaction as he added, “she’ll figure it out sooner or later. and by then, it’ll be too late for her to run, won’t it?”

gojo rolled his eyes at geto’s words, his irritation still simmering but now mixed with a hint of a smirk. he knew that geto was enjoying this way too much, getting a twisted sort of pleasure out of manipulating the situation to his advantage.

“don’t act like you’re not enjoying this too much,” he muttered, his voice laced with a hint of amusement despite himself. “you’ve never been good at hiding your sadistic and obsessive streak, suguru.”

“and you aren’t any better,” geto retorted, his voice still dripping with that same unsettling mix of amusement and dark intent. there was a challenge in his words, a subtle dare for gojo to push back. “remember, you’re the one who suggested this in the first place.”

gojo chuckled softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he gazed down at your sleeping face, lingering on the bare curve of your shoulder and the delicate chain around your neck—a necklace adorned with the initials G.S., another quiet mark of their claim. “she doesn’t need to know,” he murmured, almost to himself, fingers lightly tracing the line of the necklace as though sealing the sentiment.

no, you didn’t need to know how they had exchanged smirks and carefully worded reassurances the night before, expertly hiding the way their words danced with a double meaning that only they understood. how the notion of not wanting a child was a game, a pretense, just so they could savor the moment you’d discover otherwise, unprepared and utterly theirs.

you didn’t need to know how each moment of intimacy was orchestrated with care, how they ensured you took every part of them without fail, their silent rituals cementing you deeper into their lives.

you didn’t need to know the subtle ways they interfered, leaving your pills out in the sun or “forgetting” to replace certain things—all with that same twisted devotion. or how they took measures to ensure no barriers stood between you and the life they had planned in secret, an existence where you were wholly theirs.

and you would never need to know. that beneath the surface of their love, a darker obsession lay, a primal need to bind you to them irrevocably, to ensure you’d stay in the house they had built for you, forever enveloped in the illusion of warmth and devotion they wove around you.

geto watched as gojo’s gaze trailed down to your necklace, a possessive glint in his eyes as he touched the initials. he knew the meaning behind that look, the quiet satisfaction that came with staking such a visible claim on you. it was one of their many quiet acts of possession, a twisted way of ensuring you were truly theirs.

he knew the lengths they had gone to for this moment, the careful planning and manipulation that had led to your ignorant bliss, and it only stoked the fire of his twisted desire even further.

his smile widened as he felt the weight of the knowledge that they were shaping your life and future without your knowledge or consent, the dark thrill of it all sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine. he relished in the way they had subtly manipulated the situation, making sure you had no choice but to follow their will, and all while keeping you blinded to their true intentions.

“i wonder,” geto murmured, “how long will it take you to realize you’re a trapped bird in our grasp?” he murmured, eyes locked to your beautiful face.

his eyes gleamed with a twisted sort of satisfaction as he watched your peaceful, oblivious sleeping form. you had no idea what was in store for you, no clue how deep their control over you had already become. and by the time you finally figured it all out, it would be far too late to escape.

gojo chuckled at geto’s words, his eyes still fixed on the necklace. “you forget that she loves us,” he said, his tone carrying the confidence of someone who knew he had the upper hand. “and love can be a stronger chain than any force we can use.”

but beneath his flippant tone, there was another layer, a darker current of possessiveness that ran deep. he knew your love for him and geto went beyond what was healthy, a twisted form of affection that they had carefully nurtured. “we’ve loved her for the past ten years, we do what we do because of love.”

geto let out a dismissive snort, not entirely convinced. he knew all too well how easily love could be twisted and manipulated, used as a leash to keep someone under control.

“love isn’t always a good thing, you know that,” he muttered, his smile taking on a darker edge as he mused, “sometimes it’s just a pretty word for obsession.”

he met gojo’s gaze, his eyes cold and calculating. “and you and i both know our love for her is more possessive than it is healthy,” geto added, his voice almost gleeful at the admission.

“it’s healthy, we love her.”

geto’s smile widened at gojo’s words, his gaze calculating as he leaned back slightly, his arms folding over his chest in a manner that spoke of dominance and control. “you’re fooling yourself, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low, almost like a taunt. “love isn’t always as pure as we tell ourselves it is. sometimes, it’s just a way to justify what we want.”

he let the words linger in the air, his eyes locking with gojo’s, daring him to deny the truth. geto didn’t believe in the comforting illusions of love, not anymore. he knew the truth about the darkness that could lie beneath it, how easily love could be turned into something possessive, something suffocating.

“satoru, don’t act like we don’t both know. we’re not here because of some innocent love,” geto said, his voice a mix of amusement and malice. “we’re here because we can't stand the thought of losing her.”

gojo remained silent for a moment, his lips thinning, the air between them charged with an unspoken understanding. but then, his gaze softened, just a fraction. “we love her,” he said firmly, shaking his head as if trying to shake off geto's words. “it’s not unhealthy. we give her everything she wants, everything she needs. we don’t force her to do anything, we’ve never done anything to make her unhappy. we want to make her life perfect.”

he paused, his eyes looking toward you, still peacefully asleep between them. “it’s just... a little more love. getting her pregnant—it’s just a way to make sure she’s always ours, that we’re never apart.”

there was a certain heaviness in gojo’s words, a quiet vulnerability beneath his usual bravado. he knew, deep down, that they were both terrified of the possibility of losing you—terrified of the thought that you could slip away from them. their love, twisted as it may be, was rooted in that fear.

“it’s the right thing,” gojo continued, his voice tinged with something raw and desperate. “we just... we can’t lose her.”

geto regarded gojo silently, studying his face intently. there was a small part of him that felt a pang of sympathy at the vulnerability in gojo's words, at the fear that he saw lurking beneath his facade. but he pushed it down, refusing to let it soften him.

“you’re delusional,” he said bluntly, shaking his head. “you can call it love all you like, but the truth is, it's possession. you want to own her completely, to make her dependent on us. and you’ll stop at nothing to achieve that.”

gojo listened to geto’s words, his expression unreadable for a moment, but a soft hum escaped his lips as he leaned closer, his gaze softening as it landed on you. without a word, he placed a tender kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

as he pulled back, he whispered, almost reverently, “she is ours,” the words a quiet affirmation, a promise that seemed to echo through the air between them.

his fingers trailed gently across your cheek, running his knuckles over your skin, the touch delicate yet filled with a possessive warmth. there was a quiet intensity in his gaze as he watched you, his thumb brushing softly against your skin as though to reassure himself that you were still there, still his.

gojo'’ demeanor softened again, and for a brief moment, the raw, vulnerable side of him surfaced—just a fleeting glimpse of the man who feared losing you. but it was quickly masked by the quiet confidence, the undeniable possessiveness that had always been there. he wasn’t delusional, at least not in his mind. he was simply ensuring that you would never be taken from him, from both of them.

his eyes flicked to geto, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “you can call it whatever you want,” he murmured, “but this is love, suguru. and we're never letting her go.”

gojo’s hand rubs soft, gentle circles on your belly over the soft blanket, his eyes fixated on the spot where your baby is growing. a possessive smile plays at the corner of his lips, his voice soft when he speaks. “ours to love, to protect—to keep.”

geto hummed in satisfaction, his gaze lingering on you, taking in the peacefulness of your sleep. there was something about seeing you like this that made his possessiveness flare even more, but it was a contented, almost affectionate kind of obsession.

he stepped closer to gojo, his hand reaching out to rest gently against his boyfriend’s back, a subtle reassurance. “let her rest,” he said, his voice calm, though there was a quiet excitement in his tone. “she’s been through a lot.”

his fingers then slid up to gojo’s undercut, his touch soft, almost tender, as he whispered with a smile, “maybe we should start looking for a room in the house… turn it into a nursery.”

there was a spark of genuine excitement in geto’s eyes, despite knowing that it was still a long time before the baby would arrive. but that didn’t stop him from feeling an intense, almost overwhelming sense of anticipation. this was their first child, after all—their child—and he couldn’t wait for the moment when everything would finally be real.

gojo’s lips curled into a proud grin at the mention of a nursery. he knew it was too early to start planning and preparing, but he couldn’t help but jump on the idea instantly.

“yeah,” he agreed, his voice filled with a mixture of excitement and adoration. “we should start working on decorating the room, picking out furniture, maybe start buying some cute little baby clothes…”

he paused, imagining the room filled with adorable cribs and soft toys, before adding with a smirk, “and maybe we should start thinking of baby names.”

geto chuckled softly at gojo’s words, a slight shake of his head as he listened to his boyfriend’s excited ramblings. the image of gojo, the usually carefree and chaotic force of nature, getting so wrapped up in something as sweet and innocent as baby names, made a rare warmth flicker in his chest.

“you’re already thinking of baby names, huh?” geto murmured with a small, knowing smile. “you really can’t wait, can you?”

gojo making sure you were comfortable and warm, adjusting the blanket around you gently before standing up. then, without a word, he wrapped his arms around geto’s waist, pulling him in close. the two of them silently left the bedroom together, moving into the hallway as the sound of their footsteps echoed softly in the quiet house.

as they walked down the hallway, the feeling of possessiveness and excitement still swirling in the air between them, geto broke the silence. his voice was low but filled with certainty, the dark gleam in his eyes never quite fading as he met gojo’s gaze.

“we are going to give her and our baby the world,” he said, his voice almost reverent, though tinged with a dangerous kind of possessiveness. “aren’t we?” his question was more of a quiet affirmation, a shared understanding between them that no one would take either of you from them—not now, not ever.

gojo gave an unapologetic nod at geto’s words, his arms tightening around his waist. there was no denying how excited he was—he couldn’t help but get carried away sometimes.

he leaned in close to geto, resting his head on the man’s shoulder as they walked down the hallway. “of course,” he murmured, his voice low and intense. “whatever they want, we’ll give them. whatever they need, we’ll provide. they’ll never want for anything.”

then, an amused smirk crossed his face as he added, “we’ll spoil them completely, won’t we?”

geto chuckled a little at gojo’s question, a small hum of agreement escaping his lips. the idea of spoiling the baby, giving them everything they could possibly want, was an appealing one, to say the least.

“you’re already plotting to give them the most lavish birthday parties, aren’t you?” he teased, his tone light though there was a hint of fond amusement in his eyes as he glanced sidelong at his boyfriend.

“we’ll give them everything they could ask for,” gojo said, his voice a low murmur. “the world isn’t enough.”

geto smiled at gojo’s response, his hand reaching up to brush a few strands of hair back from his boyfriend’s forehead. he knew gojo all too well, and the man’s tendency to go overboard when it came to you and the baby was something he was all too familiar with.

he let out a soft, amused snort, shaking his head as he commented, “lavish is an understatement, satoru. you’re probably already planning a theme park for their first birthday.”

gojo chuckled at the thought, imagining the look on the baby’s face as they explored a whole theme park built solely for them. the idea was ridiculous and over-the-top—but that was gojo all over.

“well,” he mused, his voice taking on a playful tone, “they are ours, and our baby deserves the best. so yeah, a theme park might be a good start.”

he shot a sly grin at geto, adding, “though i was actually thinking of something more grand, like maybe a petting zoo. or a small circus.” the thoughts, the ideas swimming freely in his mind, filled with each possible and the things he and geto can and would do for you and their child.

gojo groans, hiding his face on geto’s shoulder, “they haven’t been born yet and i already love them so much.”

upon hearing gojo’s ridiculous ideas for grand birthday parties for a literal baby, geto let out an amused chuckle, his expression a mix of fond exasperation. “a petting zoo,” he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. “you're unbelievable. and i thought i was supposed to be the unhinged one in this relationship.”

despite the teasing comments, though, there was a hint of affection in his voice, a begrudging fondness. he knew gojo’s ridiculous tendencies, after all, and this was well within the limits of his boyfriend’s chaotic character.

gojo hummed happily at geto’s words, his face still hidden in the crook of his boyfriend’s shoulder. his heart felt so full in moments like this, where he could just imagine the future and the life they were slowly creating for themselves.

“i just love our babies so much,” he said referring to you and the future child, his voice a little bit muffled, but the tenderness was still clear in his tone.

geto rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips despite his best efforts. gojo’s sappy side was a side that he only showed to those he trusted, and geto couldn’t deny that his boyfriend’s affectionate nature was endearing, in his own way.

“you’re such a sap,” he muttered, his voice fond. “you realize there’s still, like, what, 8 months? before the baby’s even born, right? don’t get ahead of yourself now.”

gojo lifted his head a little so he could glance up at geto, an exaggerated pout on his face. “i can’t help it,” he protested, his voice whining a little. “i’m excited, okay? i can’t help it if i’m already thinking about what we’ll dress them up as for halloween and what toys they’ll like and how we’ll decorate the nursery and so on and so on...”

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urdreamgirlangel · 1 month ago

Text

Romanticizing Productivity (Minus the Burnout) ｡𖦹°‧

@f1rst-l0vel4t3-spr1ng asked: hi angel!! how do you stay productive and out of procrastination cycles?

this is for the girls who feel like they’re falling behind but keep showing up anyway. ♡

✶ you are not lazy.

✶ you are not behind.

✶ you are a real person with a real nervous system, trying to do her best in a world that rewards burnout.

✶ give yourself grace. then give yourself a nap.

Plan your days ˚｡･─౨♡ৎ─･｡ﾟ

When you know what you're doing, when, and how, life feels less overwhelming.

Use a planner

make a cute to-do list with time stamps & decorate it to encourage yourself to look at it

Personally, planning makes my day way easier, but sometimes even this isn't enough. You could literally just stare at your planner blankly and ignore it for the whole day.

The 4 Quarter Method

Quarter 1 (Morning): 6am-10am

Quarter 2 (Midday): 10am-2pm

Quarter 3 (Afternoon): 2pm-6pm

Quarter 4 (Evening): 6pm-9/10pm

Decide what you want to do in those spaces. And note that even if you need to start over, you don’t have to wait until tomorrow, literally just do it next quarter.

The 12-Week Year

Instead of viewing a year as a long 12-month stretch, you break it into shorter 12-week periods, treating each as a 'year'. This encourages you to focus and take action on your goals sooner, turning your long-term goals into short-term ones.

૮ ․ ․ ྀིა keeps motivation high and priorities clear

૮ ․ ․ ྀིა track progress and adjust as needed

૮ ․ ․ ྀིა keep your goals specific and measurable, breaking them down into weekly targets.

Be realistic ⭑.ᐟ

Don't overestimate your energy levels, and do not try to lie to yourself. Leave space for unpredictability.

Discipline over Motivation ˚｡･─౨♡ৎ─･｡ﾟ

If you wait until you feel motivated to get things done, it’s unlikely that you actually will. So this is where discipline comes in because it provides more control and consistency. In other words, train yourself through building habits and routine to do what needs to be done, even if you don’t feel like doing it.

Choosing to do things you don’t like/want to right now for future you.

You literally have to choose the version of yourself you’d rather be over the version of you that you want to leave behind. Think about the future and think about whatever you wanna do. Imagine that person. Girl, that’s you and always will be as long as you take yourself seriously, as long as you are truthful to yourself, as long as you continuously choose to do whatever it takes not to be the opposite.

The Execution ˚｡･─౨♡ৎ─･｡ﾟ

What about the things that lead to your goals? I like to create routines, habits and rituals because they make the tasks doable.

Build daily and weekly systems that you will automatically fall into (over time of course) for even when you don’t feel like it but you know you need to. These systems create habits.

｡𖦹°‧ Morning/Night rituals/routines - structure the start and end of your day

｡𖦹°‧ Study Rituals - your methods & what you do before, during and after matter

｡𖦹°‧ Habit stacking - build new habits by attaching them to established routine.

｡𖦹°‧ Reuse the 4 quarter method by planning each day's workload

The 2-Minute Method

If a habit feels too overwhelming, start with just two minutes - James Clear. The idea is to start small and build momentum over time.

‹𝟹 Wanna read more? Start with reading for two minutes.

‹𝟹 Wanna journal? Write a single sentence.

‹𝟹 Wanna study? Read the first paragraph/page.

Procrastination ˚｡･─౨♡ৎ─･｡ﾟ

We all have procrastinated from time to time. It’s normal. It’s human. However, understanding why we do it can help us break out of it.

The leading causes of procrastination:

⤷ overestimating how much time we have

⤷ overestimating the motivation we’ll have in the future

⤷ underestimating how long tasks will take

⤷ thinking we need the right mindset to study

⤷ lack of energy

⤷ mental health challenges

How to fight it

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆ Create a distraction-free environment

₊ ⊹ Clear your desk, close unused tabs, put your phone out of reach.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆ Use a to-do list (that’s realistic)

₊ ⊹ Break tasks into micro-steps.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆ Reward yourself after completing an item on your list

₊ ⊹ Boosts mood and self-esteem, leading to the realization that your efforts result in a positive reward.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆ Pay attention to thoughts of procrastination and resist the urge.

₊ ⊹ Gently challenge them

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆ Ask for help

₊ ⊹ Putting things off is normal for all of us, but it’s important to notice when something has gone/is going too far. Maybe you’re struggling to understand a concept, and that’s why, but that’s when you have to take the time to put yourself first and ask for help.

All you have to do is start. The first step is usually the hardest, and also the only one that matters the most.

Think you wasted the day away already? It’s the little things that count.

Do something right now.

Stretch, shower, brush your teeth, eat a meal, change your clothes, get some sun, read a page of a book. Starting something often leads me to wanting to continue. Instead of one page, I’ll read a chapter even though I said I’d only read a page, simply because the page turned out to be so interesting- then I think, ‘oh yeah, that's why I bought this book’.

Academic Burnout & Toxic productivity ˚｡･─౨♡ৎ─･｡ﾟ

Just because you’re functioning doesn’t mean you’re okay.

I feel like this is way more common than acknowledged, and as a former academic girlie (until I hit a breaking point), I know it all too well. I didn’t even realize I was burnt out until it’d already messed me up. So… don’t be like me. But also, it’s okay if you are already because you can always redeem yourself even if it’s not through academics.

Signs of Burnout <3 !

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Constant exhaustion — physically and mentally

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Feeling sick, overwhelmed, or emotionally drained

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Loss of confidence in your ability

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Missing deadlines or avoiding work altogether

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Feeling like you can’t absorb any information

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Zoning out way more often than usual

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Getting easily irritated or emotional

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Feeling detached or negative about learning

how to avoid and recover from burnout <3 !

Rest is rest - when resting, don't do something draining like scrolling through your phone. Do something that’s meaningful to rest, a nap, eating, drinking water, meditating, just to rest your brain

Pay attention to how you feel and react to certain things to recognize the symptoms, do not ignore yourself.

Make time for fun and social activities - gives your brain a break, boosts energy, and can feel refreshing while also boosting creativity

Practice mindfulness - being present in the moment by going outside or meditating reduces stress and boosts emotional regulation

Get a lot of exercise, stay hydrated, and eat good quality food - improves sleep and increases energy levels

Set reasonable goals - don’t try to do everything at the same time or in one time frame, and know your limits

Keep your environment organized to feel organized and more at peace

Develop good relationships with your classmates and professors/teachers, so going to class doesn’t feel like a chore

Positive self-talk - encouraging yourself every day and reminding yourself you can do anything you put your mind to, because you can !

Stick to deadlines and avoid procrastination (more on the how-to-avoid side)

Changing the scenery helps more than you think

Have no more than 2 intense quarters per day.

Remember why you are doing this in the first place and if you can’t find a reason then you definitely have to think about if this is what you want to do and if you don’t, that may be the main cause of your burnout

Seek help through your support system (friends, family, therapist) or even me because i’m always here if you need to talk

Reality Check 𓂂 𓇼˚｡ •

it’s literally not necessary to be working excessively hard, trying to find ways to sleep less to study/work more because it will cost you your mental, emotional and physical health.. and if you don’t have those.. there’s literally no point of doing anything. social media has glamorized toxic productivity so much that it’s an aesthetic. to be raw, slowly killing yourself isn’t cute. you’re a real person with real feelings and limits. you are not a brand packaging an ideal that is in no way real. and at the end of the day, grades don’t matter as much as you may currently believe they do. you have to choose to take care of yourself because no one else is going to do it for you.

Be efficient — study smarter, not harder ˚｡･─౨♡ৎ─･｡ﾟ

Before you even touch a book:

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡ Stretch your body — it actually helps your brain engage

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡ Stay hydrated, eat quality foods, take your vitamins - fuel matters

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡ Plan your days - list assignments by date the moment you get your syllabus, then just check things off

Study Methods That actually Work:

˙ ✩°˖🥐 Flashcards - active recall is better than passive reading

˙ ✩°˖🍼 Try the Pomodoro Method - 25 mins work, 5 mins break

˙ ˙ ✩°˖🥐 Go on walks - movement helps with processing, memory & focus

˙ ✩°˖🍼 Reteach what you learned - out loud or to someone else (personally my plushies are my fav audience)

˙ ✩°˖🥐 Blurting method – write down everything you know from memory, then compare to your notes and fill in the gaps

˙ ✩°˖🍼 Sticky notes - great for reminders (esp in language learning - stick one onto a piece of furniture, with the translation on it)

˙ ✩°˖🥐 Mind map sheets – use a blank page and colored pens to create idea webs

˙ ✩°˖🍼 Annotate your notes - highlight, underline, scribble little thoughts in the margins, make it yours

✩°˖🥐 Practice - practice tests and past papers help you get used to the style of questions so you can be better prepared and confident in tests. They also help you identify any weaknesses in the topic so you can know what they are and work on them.

˙ ✩°˖🍼 Channel your inner study icon (Elle Woods) - cute outfit/pjs, brain on and ready

Just start. The momentum will come

Resources:

Apps^ྀི

Planners: Notion templates, Google Calendar, todo mate

Habit trackers & Focus: focus plant (fav), study bunny, habit, finch (fav)

Playlists^ྀི

Lo-fi, brown/white noise, focus music - like sunnii mmelt elisio hny

Study with Me's can be found in my youtubers for the girlies post parts 1 & 2

Break ideas ྀི

Go for a short walk

Journal for 5 minutes

Simple stretches or practice deep breathing

Eat something nourishing

Yoga

Light a candle and literally sit in silence for a bit

Watch the sky for 2 minutes

Take a nap

All you need to do is start. Missing something isn’t the end of the world. Take your time, have some rest, reward yourself, and remember, you can always start again.

✿ if this helped you or made you feel understood, reblog so other girls like us can find it too

follow @urdreamgirlangel 444 more <33

552 notes · View notes

soul-controller · 14 days ago

Text

It All Comes Out In The Wash

Happy Pride! Based on the poll results, y'all are torn between this story and Streamer to Streamer: Pride... so, I'll be posting both of them this month. The other story will be coming in a week or two, so stay tuned.

Whenever Theo Hastings had a rough day at work, there was nothing that could brighten up his spirits than some retail therapy. Although working in retail himself might have dissuaded him from stepping foot inside another retail establishment until his next shift, the 25-year-old stocker felt differently as it provided a much needed sense of relaxation. Without a manager hounding him to put things away at a breakneck speed 24/7, he now had the ability to roam aisles at his own pace and just waste time as cheery pop songs softly echoed from the shop’s speakers. Plus, there truly seemed to be nothing that could rival the thrill he felt of swiping his debit card and seeing “transaction approved” flash on the screen – not only due to his poor finances and the worry of getting rejected but getting to walk away with a bag full of items in tow.

So as Theo stood in front of the thrift store, whose weathered sign looked like it too had been thrifted, the man’s lips pulled back into a slight smile. With 30 minutes left to go still before his and his boyfriend’s to-go dinner order was ready at a restaurant inside the same plaza, he pushed aside the slight aching of his muscles and finally entered the shop.

Instantly, the man’s senses were assaulted by the atmosphere of the shop. Despite having a cozy style with the antiqued decor that surrounded the endless racks of clothing, the space was incredibly cluttered and the scent of mothballs so prominent that Theo could instantly feel the rumblings of a migraine begin to emerge. He refused to be deterred from his mission though, looking around and smiling before beginning to venture into the tight aisles of clothing.

Theo simply meandered through the aisles, his fingers unstoppable as they brushed against the various fabrics until he found something that spoke to him. Although he had nothing really in mind, the decision of stopping into the shop was due to his newfound desire to revitalize his wardrobe. After spending so much time in the same size since his college days, fraternity gear, khaki shorts, and Aeropostale had been all he had needed for the past few years. But as he found himself beginning to grow out of them due to the increased muscle mass occurring due to his physically-demanding job, Theo figured this would be the best way to freshen up his style without needing to pay hundreds of dollars.

Additionally, the man couldn’t deny that he was on a mission to find things that could potentially spice things up with Peter, his boyfriend of 5 years. Back in college, the duo had seemed like a couple pulled straight out of a fairy tale (or the fantasies of gay men everywhere) – a frat bro who fell in love with a meek, average-looking Engineering nerd. They had first met when Theo needed tutoring help with his courses, but those late-night study sessions soon divulged into drunken hangouts turned makeout sessions.

That time in their lives had been the source of many eventful and exciting days (and nights) together, but as the time since those days grew, the spontaneous and exciting days disappeared and were replaced with a comfortable routine. Part of this was due to their intense jobs, with Theo climbing the retail ladder slowly but surely as Peter was working every weekday at an engineering firm – leaving them both utterly exhausted by the time they got home to do anything more than cook dinner and watch TV together. But despite the sad state of their relationship currently, Theo wasn’t willing to give up just yet.

So as he browsed the shop, the man’s eyes darted around as he aimed to find any sort of attire that could potentially turn his boyfriend on and spice things in the bedroom via some roleplay. He had known that Peter had a bit of a thing for leather, so as his eyes landed on a sleek leather jacket, Theo thought that he had landed on the jackpot. He pulled it off the rack and admired it, noticing how the smooth, cool material was a stark contrast to his rough, calloused hands. "This could definitely work," he thought, slipping it on and feeling an immediate boost in confidence.

He continued to sift through the racks, picking out a few more pieces that caught his eye and made his horny mind imagine scenarios – a handmade pair of denim booty shorts, a vintage band t-shirt, and a chunky knitted sweater. As he looked at the items in his arms, he instantly imagined the scenarios required for him to wear such items: a classic stripper outfit that would work with his mesh neon crop top from one of their Pride festival forrays, a shirt to go with the leather jacket and create a domineering “daddy” image, and something that could go with his reading glasses and give his boyfriend another “nerd” to mess around with respectively.

With his arms full of potential new outfits, Theo headed to the dressing room. He closed the door behind him, the tiny space feeling even smaller with the pile of clothes he had accumulated. Upon taking off the leather jacket and setting it with the other clothes, the man finally began to undress down to his underwear. For a moment, Theo simply stared at his reflection – taking into account his current physique. Although his physique wasn’t as well-sculpted due to his intense days of working out and dieting back in college, it was clear that the man was still in solid shape. His gym regime had grown a bit lax due to his aforementioned tiredness from work, but luckily his job kept him quite active from lifting heavy boxes and putting items on shelves day in and day out. So even with the nagging restlessness and guilt that gnawed at him, the man wasn’t mad at all at what he saw in the mirror.

As he tried on the different items, Theo’s excitement only grew as he saw how well the items fit him. Although he had already tried on the jacket prior to arriving in the dressing room, he did it again after putting on the vintage band t-shirt, lifting up his arms and flexing to watch the thick leather curve around his solid biceps. Oh yeah, this would be great for Peter, he thought to himself, smirking as he felt a sense of excitement. This seemed like the right decision – something that would finally reignite the spark that life had dimmed between himself and his boyfriend.

With his boyfriend in mind and his excitement continuing to grow, Theo couldn’t resist pulling out his phone and taking a few pictures of himself in the mirror. He knew that Peter would love it, so why not give him a tease of what he had planned for him?

"Hey babe, what do you think?" Theo typed before attaching the photos. Right before he pressed on the send button, he hesitated for a moment before deciding to add something a bit more playful. “Thinking of wearing this tonight ;)”

He hit send and while waiting for a response, opted to continue trying on the rest of the clothes. A few minutes later while he was trying on the chunky knitted sweater, his phone buzzed. In an instant, Theo's heart skipped a beat, causing him to rush to his device to see his partner’s response. But as he clicked on the message and began to read it, his excitement quickly deflated.

"Looks good. Are you coming home soon with our dinner?"

Theo sighed, feeling a wave of frustration wash over him. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror, his annoyance evident in his furrowed brow and stern expression. "That’s it? That’s all he had to say?!" he muttered to himself. He had hoped for something more: a flirty response or compliment… ANYTHING that would show Peter’s interest and continued attraction to him.

With his excitement deflated, Theo glumly began to undress and put his original clothes back on. What was the point in continuing when he couldn’t get his boyfriend to show any sort of interest? As he stuffed the clothing back onto their hangers and left them in the dressing room, the melancholic man was on the verge of tears while he made his way towards the entrance of the shop. He felt like an idiot for trying to spice things up just for his boyfriend to coldly reject his advances. In his mind, the desperate man found himself wishing and praying endlessly to have that spark return to their relationship. All he wanted was a boyfriend that thirsted for him and made an effort. Was that really too much to ask?

With his mind set towards making a beeline towards the front door, Theo turned partially to the side before beginning to shimmy down the aisles – altering his stance to prevent his broad shoulders from ending up at odds with the congested aisles of clothing. Despite this, his fingers still once again began to graze against the fabric of countless outfits. As he did this, the man was suddenly feeling transfixed by the different consistencies that brushed against his fingertips – from the scratchy texture of old polo shirts to satin dress shirts.

But as the door was mere feet away, the retail employee stopped dead in his tracks as a sudden static shock hit his finger and caused his entire body to tingle. Upon gasping and shaking his hand in hopes of ridding it of its numb tingles, Theo turned in order to figure out what it was that shocked him. As his eyes lingered on the clothes rack and watched one article of clothing swaying back and forth on its hanger, he quickly pushed the other clothes to the side to give it a good inspection.

To Theo’s amusement, the item that awaited him was not one of significant monetary or aesthetic value – it was simply a used white undershirt. The concept of being shocked by the standard cotton fabric was quite amusing to the man, which caused him to reach out and begin to touch the fabric. But as soon as his fingers fully grasped onto the article of clothing, a sudden tingle coursed through his body. He suddenly froze, both hands still touching the fabric. Then, out of nowhere, a deep, resonant voice whispered in his ear.

“Buy the shirt, Theo. It will feel so good to wear it.”

Instantly, the man turned around wondering if someone was playing some bizarre joke on him. Unlike his own Midwestern accent, the voice that spoke to him seemed vastly different – sounding almost Middle-Eastern. Yet as he looked around for the culprit, he found himself alone in the cramped aisle. The voice had been so clear, so intense that it felt like it was whispered directly into his ear like a secret. Unsurprisingly, Theo hesitated for a moment, wondering if he was going crazy from a long day at work and just imagining things.

Theo’s hand trembled slightly as he lifted the shirt off the hook and continued to touch it. The fabric felt warm and inviting, almost as if it was calling out to him. He glanced around once more, his mind racing with questions. Was he going crazy? Was the voice real? If it was, why did it want him to buy it so badly?

Against his better judgment, Theo looked at the tag on the collar. Size XL, the same size he wore in all of his clothes. His fingers moved down the shirt until they found the price tag hanging – which revealed a price of only $3. Feeling oddly intrigued by the item, Theo draped the undershirt over his arm and walked to the checkout counter. He could feel the weight of the mysterious voice's command with every step.

As the cashier rang up the purchase, Theo’s mind buzzed with anticipation and a hint of fear. He had no idea what awaited him (if anything) once he put on the shirt, but something deep inside urged him to obey the voice's words. Upon handing over $3 and some change, the man reasoned that it was a worthy purchase no matter what. Even if he had simply imagined a voice and the shirt was nothing more than a piece of fabric, the item would still find a use for the man due to his innate desires to get back into the gym. With a second-hand shirt like this, he could feel no shame drenching it in immense levels of sweat as it found a new purpose.

Once he was handed a receipt, the man gave a slight nod before exiting the thrift shop. With each step Theo made towards his car, he found himself slowly being broken out of the intense spell that clouded his mind. Although he still had an innate desire to wear the shirt gnawing deep within him, the man’s slight germaphobia returned to remind him of the dangers of wearing second-hand attire. There could be countless types of bacteria or scents associated with the item, so as he headed towards the restaurant to pick up food, he reasoned the best way to quell his concerns was to put it in the laundry first. Then, once it was perfectly clean and ready to be worn, he’d put it on and figure out what would happen once it was finally on his muscular physique…

* * * * *

Despite being a highly affectionate and needy individual, Peter Thompson was relieved to wake up alone on Saturday morning. As he got up and made his way into the bathroom to relieve himself, the nerdy man yawned and thought mournfully about the previous night’s events. The status of his relationship with his boyfriend Theo had been feeling increasingly rocky over the past few months, but nothing compared to the explosive argument that occurred that evening. Upon arriving home with the couple’s food in hand (along with a small bag from a nearby thrift shop), Theo’s eyes stared daggers into Peter’s soul as they sat at the table across from each other in silence. It was clear that the nerd had done something to upset the man, but he had no idea what it could be.

Upon bringing the intense stares and wondering what he had done to upset his boyfriend, Peter sat in awe as his boyfriend instantly snapped and began complaining about their relationship. Instead of being loving and affectionate partners, the handsome muscular man coldly stated that they felt more like roommates who just happened to share a bed. Although Peter loved to view things with rose-colored glasses, he wasn’t oblivious to their evolving relationship as it became less and less sexually or emotionally intimate. He had become completely consumed by his projects at his engineering firm, which left him feeling like a shell of himself by the time he got home.

As Peter attempted to explain this away and state that was just how relationships evolve over time, Theo grew increasingly frustrated at the young man’s apparent complacency. From there, the civilized dinner devolved into a screaming match that ended with Theo and Peter both staying on opposite ends of the apartment and wondering whether this relationship was something they still wanted to fight for. Despite Peter’s apparent laissez-faire attitude, the notion of disappointing his boyfriend so severely gnawed at him and left him with a deep pit in his stomach. He felt incredibly upset and desperate to figure it out, but opted to just give them both the remainder of the night to cool down before engaging again.

Upon finishing both his trip to the bathroom and journey through the previous night’s events, Peter returned to the bedroom and checked his phone. It was there that he saw a text waiting for him from his boyfriend.

Theo: Went into work early, needed more time apart. Let’s talk once I’m home. Love you

Instantly, Peter’s heart broke as he read the last part of the man’s message – mourning for the usual blue heart emoji that was intentionally kept from signing off the text. It hurt him intensely to imagine the fallout of their relationship ending, wondering how living together for the remainder of the lease would work and how their shared friend group would be shattered as the friends were undoubtedly forced to choose sides. It was too much to think about, so he opted to find something to distract himself.

As he looked at some of the couples’ clothes strewn across the floor, the concept of doing some laundry sounded like a good way to take his mind off of things. He could start a load before going to make some breakfast, then switch from the washer and dryer as he opted to clean more of the apartment to try and forget about the soul-crushing fight.

He grabbed onto the various articles of clothing and began to make his way towards the bathroom, stopping himself from throwing the items into the laundry basket upon seeing Theo’s plastic bag from the previous night resting atop of the other clothes already there. Using one arm to grab the bag out, Peter then used the other to dump the other clothes into the basket. As he used both hands to finally pull open the bag, the man was confused to find that his boyfriend’s thrifting haul was solely composed of a used white undershirt.

He reached down to pull it out of the bag, nearly losing control as his fingers grazed against the fabric and caused a full-body chill to travel down his spine. Upon rolling his shoulders and attempting to get ahold of himself, Peter then reached in and pulled the item out and watched the loose bag hover down to the floor.

For a moment, the man simply observed the piece of clothing – noticing its slightly worn quality but finding no noticeable stains or tears. Overall, it looked like a normal piece of clothing – at least it did until the Middle Eastern voice began to speak to him.

“Yes, that’s right, Peter. It feels good, doesn’t it? Put it on.”

As the deep husky accented voice echoed through his mind, Peter froze as his heart began to race. He looked around the bathroom, half expecting to see someone standing there but finding himself completely alone. While Peter gasped and attempted to compose himself, the voice persisted as it spoke incredibly calm yet commanding.

“Peter, put it on. You must!”

Peter shook his head, trying to clear the fog of confusion that plagued his mind. "What’s going on? Who are you?" he whispered, feeling somewhat foolish for talking to what seemed like thin air.

"My name is Fadelellah," the voice replied. "I don’t know how else to say this, so I’ll come right out with it. I’m dead – I’ve been dead since 1994. For decades, I have been trapped in this shirt. Now please, put on the shirt and help me. I’m begging you!”

Peter hesitated, his rational mind at war with his innate curiosity about this bizarre trick being plagued on him. This had to be some kind of joke, it was either Theo playing some sort of trick on him or he was on the verge of a mental breakdown in the aftermath of their fight. Yet no matter how desperate he was to find a logical reason behind the mysterious voice, he had no way of explaining away how realistic the voice sounded to him. Not only did it sound so real, but the young man couldn’t help but notice the tone of desperation that coated the ominous words.

"Why should I? I have no idea who you are! Hell, I don’t even know if this is real or I’m just having a goddamn breakdown" Peter exclaimed, his voice trembling.

“Believe me Peter, I’m completely real,” Fadelellah said, “I’ve been replaying my death on a loop for decades, waiting for an opportunity for a second chance. I think that could be you…”

In response, a shiver coursed down the man’s spine as he tried to imagine such a cruel fate – not only trapped as an inanimate object but forced to recall his final moments nonstop. “But, why do you think I’m the one who can help you? How am I supposed to help?”

“I’ve been waiting for someone like you – someone who struggles with their life and wishes for something better. What if I told you that I could fix all of that? All you need to do is let me share a body with you and we’ll be unstoppable. All you have to do is put the shirt on.”

For a moment Peter hesitated, unwilling to make a decision as he attempted to comprehend what was being said to him. This random man wanted to share his body with him? That sounded like a horrible idea. Plus, how was he supposed to trust that this wasn’t some trick that would cause him to become a passenger of his own body? Hell, he couldn’t help but think about Theo as well – wondering about how a relationship would work with him having to deal with a boyfriend that had two souls sharing control. What if this Fadelellah guy was straight and tried to break him up with Theo?

As if the spirit was reading his thoughts, the disembodied voice spoke once more in hopes of squashing his fears. “Do not worry my friend, I know it sounds scary, but I promise it will be nice for the both of us. You know, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I overheard the argument you and Theo had last night. What if I told you I could fix that? When Theo first touched me in the thrift shop, I was able to tap in and learn everything about him. With my assistance, we could fix your relationship and make it so neither of you are ever unhappy again. Peter, I’m more than willing to do all of that to pay you back for helping me… all you have to do to make that happen is put the shirt on…”

Against his better judgment, Peter instantly found himself tearing off his own shirt. Although he still didn’t believe that this was really happening, there was nothing he wanted more in that moment than to fix things with Theo. He loved that man more than anything in the world, so if this random spirit said he could fix their relationship, he was more than willing to give it a shot!

As he slipped the undershirt over his head, Peter was stunned by how it was cool to the touch. Given his bigger status as a pudgier nerdy type, the fabric wasn’t baggy in the slightest – instead instantly grazing along his skin as he pulled it further down his body. By the time the shirt was fully covered over his torso, the man’s spine felt completely numb from the intensity of the cold shivers that throbbed.

After this sensation dissipated though, the man waited in hopes of Fadelellah’s voice returning and helping him fix his relationship. Yet for what felt like an eternity – nothing happened. Just as he was about to abandon hope and consider checking himself into a psychiatric facility, a warm sensation suddenly invaded his body. The sensation localized in his chest as it then began to radiate outwards towards his limbs and head.

"Thank you, Peter," Fadelellah's voice said, his desperate and somber tone now replaced with one of pure elation. "Now, I can begin to live again!"

Peter's heart pounded in his chest as the warm sensation intensified, transforming into a tingling that spread to every corner of his body. He felt like he was on the verge of having a heart attack, which caused him to look down in horror. Upon doing so, the man watched as something unbelievable happened – weight began to melt off of his frame. By the second, pieces of flab were evaporating from his form to remove his slightly pudgy belly and the modest flab that softly filled out his average frame.

Despite loving the concept of losing weight, the shock of transforming caused the man to freak out. As a result, the man’s hands went haywire as they tried to move towards the bottom of the shirt and pull it off. Yet although he could move his hands around, it felt like there was an invisible block preventing him from grabbing or touching the shirt.

Instantly, panic set in as he realized he was already losing total control of his body.

"What are you doing to me? Why can’t I take the shirt off?! Please, I changed my mind. I don't want this!" Peter cried out, his voice echoing through the walls of the couple’s average-sized bathroom.

"Do not worry, Peter," Fadelellah's voice replied, his tone coming across soothing like a concerned parent comforting their child. "This was just a precaution while our souls merged. Believe me, this is a gift. Embrace it. You’ll soon realize how much you’ll enjoy the change."

Perfectly timed, Fadelellah’s words led into the next stage of the man’s transformation. Peter’s body began to behave like a balloon as his newly frail frame began to slowly inflate. Muscles swelled beneath the skin, causing his arms and chest to quickly begin to thicken with newfound strength. As he looked down in disbelief, the man observed how a solid pair of pecs now jutted out against the tight undershirt while his biceps bulged against his widening obliques. The man’s jaw dropped as he watched the emergence of cobblestone abs emerge against the tight fabric of his shirt. It was absolutely insane to believe that he was transforming into a muscular man whose physique rivaled that of his boyfriend’s.

In response, Fadelellah let out a deep chuckle as he could feel his shared body’s face contort. "See? Isn't this better?" he cooed. "You are strong and that’s just the start. By the time we’re done combining, you’re going to be so handsome you won’t be afraid to look in the mirror. Now, take a moment to explore those new muscles of yours."

Once again, Peter found his body suddenly betraying him as his arms began to obey Fadelellah’s order. So despite wanting so badly to use those hands to pull up on his shirt and get a reprieve from the shirt’s influence, his hands instead began to feel up on his new musculature. As such, his senses allowed him to feel the well-defined ridges of his cobblestone abdominal muscles – a surprisingly pleasurable shiver coursing through his body as he compared that sensation to the pitiful pudge that his fingers usually grazed.

Despite his initial terror wanting him to resist the changes, Fadelellah’s words echoing through his brain caused Peter to re-evaluate his position. Was there really a problem here? He was becoming absolutely massive with muscles he could only dream of having! Opting to actually give these changes a shot, he decided to take control of his hands to finally marvel at his transformation thus far. He felt powerful for the first time in his life, no doubt due to his body now suddenly brimming with intense energy and vitality. He looked down at his new physique, awkwardly lifting up his arm and trying to tense the muscle. In response to finally getting it right, the man looked gobsmacked by the tense muscle that bulged to a size of a softball.

This initial sight was instantly intoxicating to the man, which caused him to explore more of his increased physique. He struggled for a moment but eventually was able to pop his pecs, stifling a chuckle as he bounced between each pectoral and established a rhythm. His hands wandered down the strip of sculpted abdominal muscles for a moment before reaching behind to his derriere. As the bottom in the relationship, Peter was curious to see how his ass fared during the changes. Upon realizing the globe-like shape of each plump yet firm ass cheek, the man’s boner (which had silently lengthened to become nearly 8 inches) rushed from a semi to a fully erect one while envisioning all of the fun he could have with Theo.

As he continued to look down at himself though, Peter soon came to realize that his body was still transforming. Instead of his pasty white complexion, his skin was quickly darkening to a more tanned hue. Initially this seemed to not be a problem, but as the color began to shift to a more olive-like shade, alarm bells began to ring as he realized that he wasn’t just getting tan… he was changing ethnicities.

“Wha- what’s happening to me?” Peter cried out, his eyes bulging out as he heard his voice beginning to deepen. “Oh– my v-voice,” he continued, the accent sounding oddly familiar for a moment until he realized why they sounded familiar – it was the same voice coming out of his mouth that he heard Fadelellah speaking in his mind.

“Do not worry,” Fadelellah began, his voice returning to his more condescending coddling tone. “The fates have just decided that we are meant to become Middle-Eastern like I once was. It will be great though, you’ll see! Since we’re together as one in this body, you’ll be able to read the Qur’an and speak Arabic like a pro. I can’t wait to share that with you!”

Peter's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He wanted to resist, to fight back against what was happening to him, but the allure of his new body and the perks it provided was overwhelming. He could feel Fadelellah's presence growing stronger, his control slipping away the more his body molded to accommodate its newest inhabitant.

As a tingle began to emerge across his entire head, Peter instantly pulled his head up to direct his attention to the bathroom mirror. Upon doing so, the man was left with no other choice but to watch as his facial features began to shift. In addition to taking on a more angular, chiseled appearance. He watched in awe as his eye shape altered – shifting from a more wide, bug-eyed appearance as the eyes sunk into a more rectangular-shaped socket. For years the man had been ridiculed for his prominent nose, but that soon became a thing of the past as it shrank and straightened to gain a more masculine appearance.

Peter watched in awe as his jawline began to crack and contort away from its former round shape – giving way to stubble that started to push out and cover his altered cheeks. But rather than the average light brown hair that resided on his head, this hair was a stark jet black that helped frame his cheeks and lips as a pencil-thin mustache wrapped around his plump lips. Once this facial hair traversed up into his sideburns, it caused a domino-like effect as every hair on his scalp then slowly shifted to match the same shade that adorned his cheeks and eyebrows until his transformation into a Middle-Eastern man was complete.

With the gravity of the changes fully hitting Peter, the man was growing incredibly desperate and scared. Although the visage that he now sported was absolutely an improvement over his former one, it was the biggest reminder of the fact that every morsel of his past self had been altered and erased. At this point, it was beginning to feel more like Fadelellah’s body rather than a shared one!

“Please, I don’t like this,” Peter begged, his voice coming out a meek whimper that would have barely registered had Fadelellah not begun sharing the same brain. “I don’t want to lose myself, this isn’t me!”

In response, a devious chuckle came from Fadelellah as he revealed his true intention. “Exactly Peter, this isn’t you… not anymore,” he said, his voice now beginning to sound relatively confident and cocky. “Instead, you’ll still be here, just tucked deep down within me. Your body was just the base I needed to come back and get a second chance. But don’t beat yourself up about it, just find comfort in the fact that I’ve turned you into something greater than you could possibly imagine.”

Despite his fear and desperation about his situation, Peter found his resolve wavering more by the second. The idea of his body being able to provide for Theo, to be the strong, confident partner Peter had always wanted to be, was tempting – even if it meant he wasn’t in control anymore. Maybe this was a chance for a new beginning, a way to reignite the spark in their relationship. It was clear that he was on the verge of destroying the relationship as it currently stood, so maybe it was better if someone else got to fix his mistakes…

"Promise me," Peter said, his voice now barely audible as he receded further within himself. "Promise me you'll take care of him."

“Of course,” Fadelellah replied. “Please do not worry, I will take care of both your body and Theo. Every day, I will cherish him like you once did. I know how important he is to you, so it’s the least I can do to repay you. Now, it’s time to let go Peter, I’m finally ready to live again.”

With one final deep breath, Peter obeyed the man’s words and surrendered. He felt himself fading, his consciousness slipping away as Fadelellah's presence filled the void. The last thing he heard was the man’s voice, being gentle and reassuring as he led his savior into a peaceful slumber.

As Peter's mind dissolved into darkness, Fadelellah gained complete control of a human body for the first time in 30 years. For several minutes the man stretched, relishing the concept of having limbs and a human body again after finally escaping his fabric prison. Despite being away from humanity for such a long time, he was able to peel his shirt off and navigate his new physique with no problem. With a smile on his face, Fadelellah lifted up his arm and flashed a wide smile.

“Damn, it is great to be alive again,” Fadelellah said to himself. “That went much easier than I expected, I almost feel bad for the dude. But hey, he chose this and I’m certainly not wishing to go back to being a shitty shirt!” the man chuckled to himself.

As he moved his hands down to his crotch, Fadelellah smirked as he tapped into Peter’s memories and was able to finally visualize the man who was almost his host body. Although Theo’s muscular and handsome body would have meant a quicker transition for the man to take over, the concept of inheriting a boyfriend to help welcome him back into the land of the living and adapt to modern-day living was a much more desirable outcome. Surely with a body like this replacing Peter, Fadelellah was sure that his new boyfriend wasn’t going to resist such a change.

With his mind continuing to envision Theo and all of the fun they’d have together, Fadelellah slipped his hand beneath his shorts and prepared to do something he’d been dreaming about for decades…

* * * * *

It had been three months since the fateful night in which Theo and his boyfriend had gotten into a huge fight, which had led to many unintended yet welcomed changes for the couple. Of course, Theo was initially hoping that their argument would lead to Peter just starting to put more effort into being romantic… so one could imagine his excitement when he came home from work the next day to find a candle-lit dinner awaiting him. However, that excitement turned to full-blown confusion when he found a random well-dressed Middle-Eastern man waiting for him instead of his dorky Caucasian boyfriend.

On paper, it certainly would have sounded ludicrous to believe that a simple used undershirt would transform someone not only in terms of physique but also ethnicity. However, given the fact that Theo himself knew about the mystical properties of the shirt due to the whispers that encouraged him to buy the item and try it on, it didn’t seem far-fetched at all.

Despite this, it was still a bit awkward and uncomfortable initially for Theo to find himself suddenly sharing a bed and apartment with a total stranger. But as time went on and the man realized how Fadelellah was able to instantly do things the way that Theo liked (ranging from the way he liked his food cooked to how sex in the bedroom went), this awkwardness dissipated quickly.

When it came to adapting to his new relationship, the only thing that kept Theo up at night was the knowledge that Peter had ultimately sacrificed his body to fix things in their relationship. It occasionally kept him up at night, wondering if Peter was still there in his former body deep down getting to see and realize just how happy he was. He certainly hoped that it was possible, as the concept of his former boyfriend being completely unaware of how things are going and forever thinking that Theo hated him was something that would forever haunt him. Fadelellah promised that Peter was down there deep down and able to see and feel all of the things he did, but Theo often wondered if that was just something that his new boyfriend told him to provide some sense of comfort.

Regardless of his concerns about Peter, Theo was relieved to find how great life was like now that Fadelellah was around. It was quite humorous at first helping teach the man how technology and society as a whole had progressed since his initial death in the ‘90s. Cell phones often transfixed the man, causing him to spend hours in awe learning about how he was able to watch movies, play games, and listen to music all from a small device in his hands.

Initially, a big question mark emerged for both men in terms of how they would be able to explain how a normal nerdy engineer was magically replaced by a Middle-Eastern hunk. However, the universe seemed to help remedy that problem for them as over the course of a week, reality slowly altered to where Peter was fully erased from reality and Fadelellah was put in his place.

Given the fact that the man was still struggling to adapt to his life in the modern era, his position as an engineer was certainly not befitting the new many anymore. As a result, the memories of all of Peter’s friends, family, and co-workers all altered to where Fadelellah was adopted by Peter’s parents and he went to college in hopes of getting a business degree. It was at college where Fadelellah and Theo first met – although the couple’s original meeting of tutoring sessions was now changed to both of them pledging for the school’s fraternity and bonding over the intense hazing process.

After graduating college, Fadelellah’s new career ultimately revealed itself to be as a personal trainer for a nearby gym. In time, the man had aspirations of opening his own gym, but until he had accumulated enough money to afford that along with finally adapting to life in 2025, he was happy to just stay where he currently was.

This career also turned out to become beneficial to Theo as well – as he was able to get a discounted membership due to his boyfriend’s employment. In addition, the couple would often spend hours in the gym working out together after Fadelellah finished his sessions for the day. It was something that Theo hadn’t initially expected to desire as much as he did. He remembered always inviting Peter to come to the gym with him, but he didn’t think it was a big deal when his boyfriend at the time rejected the offer to instead work on homework or any of the projects at his job. Yet now that he had Fadelellah with him to do these workouts with, he realized just how much he loved it (not only the workouts themselves but the flirtatious things Fadelellah did throughout like flaunting his abs or slapping Theo’s ass between sets). Consequently, that often led to the couple having some intense fun in the locker room after hours.

Given their kinky and happy lives together, it wasn’t a surprise for either man to admit just how much they appreciated Peter’s sacrifice. It was truly a selfless thing for him to do, and for that both men would be forever grateful. Yet despite feeling forever indebted to the man for what he did, neither Theo or Fadelellah opted to think much about the other man. Instead, they were too focused on living their lives to the fullest and enjoying each other’s company… especially in the bedroom!

Interested in reading more of my content? Head over to my Patreon to discover more than 140 hot transformation stories like this one!

#male transformation #possession #racial change #mental changes

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kidsinnowadays · 2 years ago

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How to Navigate Remote Learning Successfully: A Parent's Comprehensive Toolkit

Discover a range of essential resources and strategies to effectively support your child's remote learning journey, ensuring a productive and enriching educational experience. #RemoteLearning #ParentingToolkit #OnlineEducation #SupportingStudentSuccess

The landscape of education has undergone a significant transformation with the rise of remote learning. As parents, navigating this new educational paradigm can present unique challenges. However, armed with the right tools and strategies, you can ensure that your child’s remote learning experience is not only successful but also enriching and enjoyable. This comprehensive toolkit provides a…

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aleese1111 · 1 month ago

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can I request a fem reader who loves taking care of sieun? They’re in a pretty new relationship and it isn’t like she pities him but more because it’s her love language!! Gift giving and quality time.

So reader loves memorizing every little thing about sieun down to his stationary,,(yes the pens are refilled by her) would even stay up with him while studying!

She’s very used to that routine and knowing sieun he would probably still be new to the relationship so often times he isn’t able to give back to reader as much and she’s really and insists that payment would be for him to smile just a little!!

So maybe one day sieun finally does something for reader that completely takes her aback and has her falling in love with him again!!

Im so so sorry if this was long!!! But I love your whc fics so much I’m excited for more!!

the night he noticed | yeon sieun x fem!reader

summary: she's memorized every pen refill, every yawn, every page turn. But the night he tells her—in the only way he knows—that he's memorized her too, becomes the moment everything changes.

warnings: [established relationship] comfort, slow burn, emotional hurt/comfort

author's note: i don't know what to feel about this. requests ,,

there was something deeply comforting about the quiet between them. it wasn’t empty, nor was it awkward. it was the type of silence that wrapped itself around them like a soft blanket—the kind of hush that existed only between people who didn’t need to fill the air to feel seen.

she sat beside him, her legs tucked under her on the floor of his room, surrounded by books, scattered notes, and the quiet tapping of his mechanical pencil. the overhead light was dimmed, casting a gentle glow that didn’t interfere with concentration but still allowed them to see one another when they glanced up. it was late—later than most would stay up willingly—but she was used to that. used to this.

his pen clicked once, then twice. she reached over before he could do it again, switching it out for a refilled one. he blinked and looked at her, only briefly, but she saw the thanks in his eyes. he never said much, not in the beginning. words weren’t his strength, and she’d learned early that the language he spoke best was one of restraint and observation. so she’d adapted. she had learned him.

every pen refill, every extra highlighter, every back-up graph sheet tucked into his folder—those were her ways of loving him. staying up when her eyes begged for sleep, just to make sure he wasn’t alone in his intensity, was her routine. not because she had to. because she wanted to. because somewhere in the middle of library tables and coffee-fueled all-nighters, she had fallen for him. not the way people usually did. she didn’t fall for his silence, or despite it. she fell into it. and learned how to love inside it.

she didn’t expect things in return. she knew he wasn’t like her. he wasn’t wired to recognize the little things, let alone mirror them. that was okay. all she ever asked for was a smile. just a small one. and even that, she never pressed for. sometimes it happened, and when it did—it felt like the sun.

tonight, though, felt different.

he was writing, yes, focused like always. but there was something off about the way he glanced at her. more frequent. as if he were trying to say something without saying it. she didn’t comment. she only shifted, brushing a stray sticky note from his leg.

"you missed dinner," she said quietly.

he paused, then shrugged.

"you didn’t eat either," he replied.

she smiled softly. “didn’t want to leave you alone.”

he hummed, barely audible. then went back to writing.

minutes passed. maybe more. time moved strangely in their little cocoon. eventually, he closed the textbook, sliding it aside. she blinked at him, surprised.

“you done for the night?” she asked.

he didn’t answer. not directly.

instead, he stood up and disappeared briefly into the hallway. she heard faint sounds from the kitchen. her eyebrows furrowed.

when he returned, he held a small tray. a bowl of rice porridge—simple, warm, and clearly homemade. next to it, a mug of ginger tea. she stared at it, stunned.

"i didn’t know how to make much," he said, eyes down. “but i remembered you said your stomach hurts when you skip meals.”

her heart stilled.

he didn’t sit back down immediately. just stood there awkwardly, almost uncomfortable with himself. his ears were flushed, just barely.

she took the tray slowly, reverently. cradled it in her lap.

“you made this?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

he nodded. “i watched a video. checked the ingredients. made sure it wasn’t too salty.”

she blinked quickly, trying not to let tears pool in her eyes.

“i didn’t think you noticed,” she said. “about the stomachaches.”

“i notice more than i say.”

that was it. just that. but to her, it was everything.

she took a spoonful, the warmth of it somehow extending beyond the bowl and into her chest. it wasn’t perfect—but it didn’t need to be. the care in it was unmistakable.

“i memorize things too,” he said, quietly, almost defensively. “not like you. not as often. but i do.”

her throat tightened.

“i know you set out my pens by color,” he continued, eyes not meeting hers. “and that you refill them even when i don’t notice. i know you only drink that strawberry milk after 2 a.m. i know you leave your charger half-unplugged because you don’t like sparks.”

she covered her mouth with one hand, heart in her throat.

“i just don’t always know what to do with the things i notice,” he said finally. “but i’m trying.”

she put the tray aside and crawled across the space between them. he didn’t look up until her hands were cupping his face, gently.

his eyes, always so guarded, softened instantly.

“you don’t have to do anything with them,” she whispered. “just remembering is already more than enough.”

he leaned slightly into her touch. she felt him sigh—really sigh—for the first time in weeks.

“i wanted to give back,” he murmured.

“you did,” she replied, voice thick. “you are.”

she kissed his forehead, soft and slow.

that night, she stayed a little closer than usual. her head on his shoulder, his hand awkwardly but intentionally resting against hers. they didn’t speak again. they didn’t need to.

in the quiet, he noticed her. and finally, she knew—he always had.

#weak hero class #weak hero class 2 #weak hero class x reader #whc #whc2 #whc x reader #whc2 x reader #yeon sieun x reader #yeon sieun #sieun x reader #yeon si eun x reader #yeon si eun #kdrama #k drama #kdrama x reader #x reader #aleese1111

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astrofaeology · 26 days ago

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Mercury in the Houses

paid readings | Masterlist

1st house When Mercury resides here, your very essence speaks. Your intellect shapes your persona; you are a naturally curious individual, expressing yourself directly and often with remarkable openness. This placement signifies a mind that is constantly engaged with learning, readily absorbing information from your surroundings and projecting your thoughts outward. You possess a distinct verbal presence, making your initial impressions impactful.

2nd house Mercury in this house means your mind focuses on resources and values. You think practically about money, possessions, and security. Communication skills are often tied to earning or acquiring. You might articulate well about finances, business ventures, or what you deem worthwhile. This placement suggests a cleverness regarding material matters, and perhaps a talent for verbalizing your worth.

3rd house This is Mercury's natural domain, intensifying its qualities. Your intellect is incredibly agile, absorbing vast amounts of data from your immediate environment. You are a natural communicator, excelling in everyday conversations, writing, and short journeys. Curiosity drives you to learn continuously, making you adept at various forms of expression and connecting with siblings or local communities.

4th house Mercury in this position indicates a mind deeply connected to home, family, and personal roots. Your thoughts often revolve around domestic matters, security, and your heritage. Communication within the family unit is crucial, and you may enjoy intellectual discussions at home. This placement suggests a reflective intellect, often seeking inner peace through understanding your foundational experiences.

5th house Mercury here indicates that you have a mind that's has a natural disposition towards the arts and creativity. You communicate with zest, finding joy in self-expression and intellectual challenges. This position suggests a talent for entertainment, teaching, or any activity where you can blend wit with imaginative flair.

6th house Mercury in this house means your intellect is directed towards practical concerns, work, and well-being. You possess an analytical mind, excelling at organization, problem-solving, and managing details. Communication is precise and efficient, often focused on daily routines, service to others, or health matters. This placement highlights a knack for methodical thinking and a desire for order.

7th house Mercury here emphasizes intellect in partnerships and relationships. You seek mental stimulation from others, thriving on discussions and exchanges of viewpoints. Communication is key to your one-on-one interactions, and you often prefer fair, balanced dialogue. This position suggests a person who learns through relating to others and may be drawn to intellectual alliances.

8th house This placement points to a profound and investigative mind. You delve into mysteries, hidden truths, and complex subjects like psychology, shared resources, or transformation. Your communication is often intense and probing, seeking deeper understanding beneath the surface. You may be drawn to research, occult studies, or uncovering secrets.

9th house Mercury in this house means your intellect expands into higher learning, philosophy, and foreign cultures. You possess a broad perspective, eager to explore different belief systems and distant lands. Communication is often philosophical, inspiring, and focused on big ideas. This position suggests a natural teacher, traveler, or someone deeply interested in global thought.

10th house Mercury in this house places your intellect and communication firmly in your career and public image. You express yourself professionally, often through writing, speaking, or strategic planning within your vocation. Your mind is geared towards achieving success and establishing authority. This placement indicates a person whose reputation is shaped by their articulate nature and intellectual contributions.

11th house Here, Mercury's influence extends to your social groups, aspirations, and humanitarian ideals. Your intellect thrives in collective settings, engaging in discussions about future possibilities and shared objectives. You communicate effectively within teams, contributing innovative ideas and fostering connections based on mutual interests. This position suggests a mind focused on progress and community.

12th house When Mercury is in this house, your intellect operates in subtle, often hidden ways. You possess a highly intuitive and introspective mind, processing information through dreams, intuition, and unspoken cues. Communication may be less direct, leaning towards creative expression, spiritual contemplation, or working behind the scenes. This placement suggests a mind that finds peace in solitude and deep reflection.

DISCLAIMER: This post is a generalisation and may not resonate. I recommend you get a reading from an astrologer (me). If you want a reading from me check out my sales page.

#astr #astro community #astro observations #astro notes #astrology #mercury #mercury in the houses

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cinnamongrl2006 · 2 months ago

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Bruce wayne and dry humping, I beg of you‼️‼️

Bale Bruce Wayne x fem!reader ˚。⋆୨୧˚ mdni (18+)˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ warnings: established relationship, dry humping, praise, age gap (reader in her early 20s, Bruce in his 40s) a/n: I meant to post this this morning but there was a power outage ALL OVER MY COUNTRY, so you get it now.

It started out slow, almost involuntary; he'd been locked in his study for hours, you missed him, craved his attention, his touch. You needed him to look at you, wide eyed and attentive, his hands on your waist, steadying you, as you talked his ear off about your day— pilates class in the morning, then a lecture, then...coffee with a girlfriend...— and you needed him to smile and nod and shut you up with a kiss and some stupid sarcastic comment; but he wouldn't, because he was busy.

So you took matters into your own hands, and you walked into the room, uncaring, not listening to his half-hearted complaints and grumbles. Bruce pushed his chair back, allowing you to sit on his lap, a routine you’ve done before.

He sighed when you finally settled atop his thighs, pressing a kiss to his cheek. His eyes were set on the screen in front of him, hands periodically moving from the keyboard to caress your waist, your thighs, your stomach, your back.

You just wanted to sit with him, but the way he held your waist and sporadically kissed the top of your head was making you wetter by the second.

Feeling bold, you shifted your position slightly, leaning into him and letting your hips move forward just a bit. It started slowly, almost innocently, as you pressed against his leg, testing the waters to see if he would notice.

As the friction intensified, you found a steady rhythm, rocking your hips against him. The sensation of his thigh against your damp cunt sent shivers through your body, and you couldn't suppress a soft sigh.

Bruce's focus shifted from the screen to your face for a moment, a soft smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. “What’s my pretty girl up to?” he asked, gently petting your head.

"Nothin', just bored..." You punctuated your words with a roll of your hips.

He was focused, eyebrows knit in concentration as he stared at the screen in front of him, his study was quiet save for the click-clacks of the keyboard and your whines when he bounced his leg— a nervous tic of his you were thankful for in times like these— rubbing the rough fabric of his pants against your aching clit.

"Right. Well, I appreciate the company, but I can't have you here distracting me. You think you can keep yourself busy, sweet thing?"

You nodded eagerly, biting your bottom lip to suppress a smile as you pressed your clothed cunt against his crotch. His usually steady breathing became ragged, a low moan escaping him as the bulge in his slacks pushed against your aching heat.

Despite his labored breathing and obviously hard cock, he stayed focused, his hands clicking away at the keyboard while he mumbled to himself, occasionally kissing your hair.

Sure, he could've stopped working for half an hour and fucked you to sleep, but he was good at multitasking, plus, he loved the way his girl looked when she worked for what she wanted.

As the minutes passed, you found yourself lost in the rhythm, grinding against him with increasing urgency. Your nails dug into his shoulders for leverage as you pushed yourself against Bruce. His breathing grew heavier, but he still didn’t shift his focus from the screen.

“Come on, sweet thing,” he said, his voice sweet but firm. “You know I can’t help you if you don’t put in the effort.”

You huffed at his words, irritation cursing through you. The wetness of your cunt was leaving a damp patch on both your panties and his slacks as you bounced on his thighs.

Each movement was a silent plea for him to acknowledge you, but he remained focused on his computer screen, a smirk on his face as if he enjoyed your growing impatience.

You let out a soft whine, the heat pooling in your core becoming almost unbearable. “Please,” you murmured, hoping he’d finally look up, but he just chuckled softly, still typing away.

"Just a little longer, pretty girl. I'm almost done here." He tapped your hip with compassion, his gaze set on the screen before him.

With every grind against him, the pressure built until you couldn't hold back any longer. A soft moan escaped your lips as you finally reached your peak, your body trembling with the release.

"So desperate, I barely even touched you, sweetheart." His voice was sweet, but you could catch the mockery in his tone, making your cheeks go red.

You looked down, feeling a rush of embarrassment at his words. “Well, I couldn’t help it,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper, face scrunched in a frown.

He paused his typing, finally looking at you with a sympathetic smile. “I know. You really needed that, didn’t you?”

You chuckled and slumped forward, resting your head on his chest. Bruce's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you against him.

His expression softened, and he reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and caring.

"Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed." You nodded, leaning into his touch. "But I liked it," You assured him.

"Good. That's good." He leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his warmth enveloping you like a blanket.

After a moment of silence he tilted your chin up with one finger, his eyes focused on yours. "How was your day, beautiful?"

────୨ৎ────

I am currently working on a LOT of requests, but my inbox is still open!! Just be mindful they might take a bit, I'm a girl, not a machine.

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joaeriz · 2 months ago

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Paige x cheerleader reader, where they were both at UConn, and both ended up in Dallas? Paige as a wing and reader as a Dallas cowboys cheerleader. I wish I could write because I love this idea (also I loveddd the first fic🥳🥳)

Reporting Live From Dallas, TX!

Paige Bueckers x Fem!Cheerleader!Reader Long-Distance, Angst with Fluff, Slowish burn Reunion, Soft Smut, Established Relationship, Second Chances, UConn Backstory, Dallas Present, DCC Life, Emotional Breakup, Reunion Fic Word Count: ~1.5k

Summary: This request (which I was obsessed with writing) follows Paige Bueckers and her ex-girlfriend, a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader, as their paths cross again after years apart. Both are chasing their dreams in Dallas, but when their past resurfaces, they’re forced to confront what they left behind. It’s a story about love, second chances, and finding your way back to each other. 💙✨

Authors note: HI ANONNNN i love this prompt so much, i really hope i did it justice!! Im so excited for the draft and i couldnt wait to post it till then so here u go:) im not ready for her to go to dallas:( she will be missed in cow town!! (AND THANK U FOR THE SUPPORT OF MY FIRST FIC ILY ILY ILY)

The first time Paige Bueckers saw you, you were halfway through a tumbling pass at the edge of the UConn football field, your ponytail catching the sunset like some kind of magic trick. She was a sophomore, walking back from the gym, earbuds in, hoodie up — until she caught sight of you. Short, graceful, grinning like you had the world in your pocket. You hit the final pose of your routine, and her heart just… stopped.

She didn't even realize she'd taken a step forward until one of your teammates noticed her standing there, staring.

From that day forward, it was inevitable.

You started dating during her junior year, your sophomore spring. It was slow at first — sneaky Starbucks runs, study sessions in the quiet part of the library that turned into whispered confessions, lingering touches on the walk back to the dorms. She’d come to your cheer practices and sit in the bleachers, pretending she wasn’t completely enamored.

You weren’t just pretty, though you absolutely were — tiny, bubbly, your voice like sunshine. But you were grounded, smart, funny. You never cared that she was “Paige Bueckers.” You cared that she was Paige — the one who liked mango smoothies and trash reality TV and wrote little poems in her Notes app when she couldn’t sleep.

She fell hard. And you did too.

For three years, it was everything.

But the year you graduated was the beginning of the end.

You left UConn that spring with a degree, a dream, and a spot on the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders. She stayed — chose her 5th year, despite being a top draft pick — unfinished business, she said.

You tried. God, you tried.

The FaceTimes, the voice notes, the long texts. But soon, her schedule filled up with workouts, press, and rehab sessions. Yours was full of training camp, sponsor meetings, and nonstop appearances.

Distance doesn’t kill love. Silence does.

And eventually, there was more silence than anything else.

No messy fight. No final call. Just... the fade. The unanswered texts. The unreturned “I love you” left hanging on the line. Until it was just… over.

At least, that’s what you thought.

--------------------------------------------------------------

FLASH FOWARD TO THE 2025 WNBA DRAFT

You heard the news on Instagram like everyone else.

“The Dallas Wings select Paige Bueckers with the first overall pick.”

You stared at the screen for five minutes. Heart pounding. Mind spinning.

And then you turned off your phone and went back to your DCC uniform fitting. Because what else could you do?

She was in your city now. After everything. After all the nights you'd cried in your tiny Dallas apartment wondering if she ever thought of you, ever missed you. Now she was here.

And you hadn’t spoken in almost a year.

--------------------------------------------------------------

A WEEK LATER

It was a joint promotional event — the Wings and the Cowboys doing a preseason crossover campaign. A few cheerleaders, a few players. Some media fluff. You were selected because of your “UConn connection.” You almost laughed when they told you.

The day of the event, you put on the boots, the crop top, the confident smile. You looked the part. But inside? You were unraveling.

And then you saw her.

Across the green room.

Blonde hair. Light blue Wings jacket. Her eyes found yours like it was muscle memory.

Neither of you moved. Not at first.

Then Paige was walking toward you.

God, she looked good. Older. Stronger. Sadder, maybe. And when she stopped in front of you, hands in her pockets, all you could think about was how different everything felt — and how much hadn’t changed at all.

“Hey, Cowgirl.”

Your heart stuttered. “Hey, Bueckers.”

A beat. Two.

"You look…" She swallowed. "God, you look incredible."

You laughed, soft. "Still got the charm, huh?"

"I had to. I lost everything else."

The smile dropped off your face.

"Paige—"

"I messed up," she said quickly. “I let you go because I thought I had to chase this dream alone. That I’d come back for you once I’d figured it all out. But you didn’t wait. And I get it. I don’t blame you.”

“I didn’t not wait,” you said, voice tight. “I just didn’t know if you were ever coming.”

Silence again. It said everything words couldn’t.

Then she looked up at you. Blue eyes shining, raw.

“Can I take you to dinner?”

You blinked. “After all this time?”

“I don’t want more time,” she whispered. “I want you.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

Dinner turned into drinks.

Drinks turned into a hotel elevator ride full of silence and stolen glances.

And now — here you were. Back pressed against the hotel room door, Paige’s mouth on your neck, her hands everywhere. Hot. Desperate. Familiar.

You gasped as she kissed down your throat. “Paige—”

She froze. Pulled back just enough to look at you.

“I need you to say it’s okay,” she whispered. “I need to know this is real.”

You cupped her face, thumb brushing her cheek. “It’s real.”

She kissed you then like you were her religion. Like nothing else had ever made sense. She picked you up — effortlessly — carried you to the bed and laid you down like you were made of glass and gold.

Your boots hit the floor. Your top came off. Her jacket joined the pile.

You reached up, traced the scar on her knee — the one from surgery junior year. She shivered at your touch.

“I missed you every day,” you breathed.

“I never stopped loving you,” she said, eyes wet.

And then she was everywhere — her mouth on your chest, her hands gripping your thighs, her body moving against yours like she already knew the rhythm. Like she’d never forgotten how to worship you.

She took her time.

You were trembling by the time she pulled your bottoms down, her lips pressing kisses to the insides of your thighs. She looked up at you, eyes dark, and whispered:

“I’m gonna make you remember what we had. What we are.”

Then her mouth was on you, and your world tilted off its axis.

You came undone with her name on your lips, her fingers laced with yours, your heart finally — finally — full again.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Sunlight filtered in through the curtains.

You were tangled in sheets and limbs, your head on her chest, one of her hands tracing lazy circles on your back.

“You snore,” she said softly.

You smiled into her skin. “Liar.”

“Okay, barely. It’s cute.”

You looked up. Her hair was messy, eyes puffy from lack of sleep, but she was glowing.

“What happens now?” you asked, not ready to lose this again.

She kissed your forehead.

“I moved here for basketball. But I’m staying for you.”

Your heart caught.

“I don’t know what the future looks like,” she admitted. “But I know I don’t want it without you.”

You exhaled, finally letting yourself believe it. “Then let’s figure it out.”

She grinned. “Starting with brunch?”

You laughed, pulling her back down into the pillows. “Starting with round two.”

And this time, you weren’t rushing toward the end.

You had all the time in the world.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #college wbb #paige bueckers uconn #x reader #dallas cowboys #dallas wings #uconn #uconn huskies #fanfiction #fanfic #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers smut

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wosospacegirl · 3 months ago

Text

Stuck with you - part 1

Summary: Y/n’s used to Alexia’s overprotectiveness and the pressure of her career—but Kika? The shy, socially awkward teammate who’s starting to make her feel things she didn’t expect.

Warnings: y/n has a complicated relationship with Alexia (she's more like a parental figure here); angst; Kika and Yn are just so social awkward it physically hurts; Olga and Alexia being in love ewwww.

Word count: 4.4k

MASTERLIST

notes: Commemoration for 500 followers yay - this was a request!

|PART 2|

Y/n was the apple of Barcelona's eyes. The 19-year-old girl had grown up in La Masia alongside other Barça players. Although she was different, a prodigy, that’s what they called her from a very young age.

She was a defender and had been trained by her family to be one since she was in diapers. Y/n never considered another position to play before and undoubtedly never contemplated doing anything besides becoming a professional footballer.

Spain media spotted Y/n when she debuted for the Women’s National team at just thirteen years old, starring in the Under 15 World Cup. Since then she began rising higher and further in La Masia.

At 14 she moved in with Alexia Putellas and her then-girlfriend, now wife, Olga Rios. It was weird at first, Y/n didn’t know how to act around the two women, and they certainly didn’t know what to do with a fourteen-year-old girl who played in the La Masia.

It didn’t take long for Barcelona to offer her a senior contract; at just 15 years old, Y/n was playing on Team B but was briskly established as a starter for Team A next to Alexia Putellas and Aitana Bonmati and other amazing players.

When she was transferred from La Masia to Barcelona, her relationship with Alexia got better. They had more things in common to talk about, and having Alexia both at home and during training was comforting, something that eased her very nervous personality.

Their routine was easier too, before Y/n got into the senior team, either Alexia or Olga had to drop her off at school, which sometimes meant they would passive-aggressively argue about who was going to take her to school because they were all so busy.

Now as a senior member, Y/n did both training and School inside Barcelona, which made her life much easier. So whenever Alexia was going to training, she would just give Y/n a ride.

Aside from Y/n’s closed-off personality, she didn’t have any major thing happening to her growing up with Alexia and Olga, everything was okay.

That was until she got older.

As time went by she and Alexia started to clash more and more, either in training or at home for the dumbest reasons.

When they were in training, Alexia would go full-on Captain mode on Yn, which made her annoyed because why was Alexia screaming at her when Y/n just saw her having a meltdown hours before because Olga had eaten off of her protein bars?

When they argued at home, it went smoother mainly because of Olga, who tried to calm both of them down.

Y/n remembers a specifically bad fight they had a few years ago. She got a bad grade on two important Spanish tests because she didn’t read the books the teacher required.

Alexia was called up by the teacher who worked in Barcelona's education sector and Y/n got the biggest earful of her life when they got home.

Alexia kept going on about how school was important, even for a footballer while Y/n sat at the dining table, just listening. No reason to argue with Alexia when she was that angry.

Y/n wasn’t a crier, but Alexia was getting so angry that she felt tears building up in her eyes. And that’s when Olga, who was in silence in the corner of the room, stepped in.

She placed a firm hand on Olga, which made Alexia shut up right away, the frown on her face still on.

Olga stepped closer to Y/n and wrapped her arms around her while sitting on her side.

“I’ll help you get back on track in Spanish, okay?” Olga had said with a sweet voice. “We can study every Saturday night together, how does that sound?”

“You have dates with Ale Saturday night,” Y/n said in a whisper, eyes looking down at the table, trying not to make eye contact.

“I’m sure she won’t mind moving them to Sunday nights.”Olga held Y/n’s chin in her hand and cleaned the tears rolling down her cheeks. “You’re just a kid, it’s okay to mess up sometimes.”

Y/n now, at 19, wasn’t just a kid, but she still messed up.

Thankfully, Alexia never gave her such stern talking before. Y/n was sure Olga made her feel guilty about it afterwards because she randomly showed up with a basket of Y/n’s favourite chocolate and just left them in her room, without saying a thing.

But that was the moment Y/n realised how atypical her life was, especially when it came to Alexia. How was her team captain, but also acted like a big sister most of the time…but also as a mother when she needed to.

That made her act even more closed-off towards other people, especially people her age. She felt like an outsider whenever she talked with other young people who weren’t into football life, I mean, she didn’t even have the experience of having a normal parent for half her life. How was she going to be able to bond over other, less normal, things?

She had Vicky and Jana as her friends, and they were more than enough, although Olga and Alexia didn’t agree on that. As if Alexia’s best friend wasn't her own sister.

What was the difference between being friends with your teammates and being friends with your sister? Y/n wouldn't know, she was an only child, but she was sure it was probably the same thing, right?

Y/n and Alexia were humming softly to the song playing on the radio while Alexia drove them to training. As she was done with school, Y/n didn’t need to bring her training bag and school bag, which made her life very much easier.

“The new girl is coming today, Estrellita,” Alexia said, looking up through her sunglasses.

“Don’t call me Estrelitta,” Y/n mumbled, rolling her eyes. “Is she a Portuguese girl? Kika?”

“Yes,” Alexia said. “I’m the one introducing her to the team, to the staff, etc”

“As always,” Y/n added. “It’s literally your job as the captain.”

“And,” Alexia continued, ignoring Y/n. “She’s almost your age, so you could try and be friends!”

Alexia said as if Y/n was in pre-school and all she needed to have a friend was to share her toys. Y/n wasn’t good at making friends, she always made them uncomfortable and awkward.

She already had two friends, and they didn’t mind her personality, so she felt like it was enough already.

“I’m impressed you want me to be friends with her right away,” Y/n teased. “You are always so protective with who I interact with…”

Alexia hummed in response.

“What if this kika is like…a sociopath in disguise?” Y/n teased, but when she looked at the side, Alexia had a fearful expression.

“You’re right, Estrelitta,” Alexia said, “Don’t go near her until I have her in the clear for you.”

“Alexia, please,” Y/n face palmed her face.”I was joking, have you ever heard of a joke?”

“Well, I am not joking and you certainly never joke around.” Alexia shot back, looking at the rearview mirror. “How would I know?”

“Maybe because I’m not five?” Y/n muttered, rolling her eyes “You never joke around either, Olga has to explain the punchlines of her jokes to you all the time, it’s annoying.”

“Well, she doesn’t mind explaining them to me,” Alexia said with a grin.

“Yeah she does mind,” Y/n argued. “She's always muttering about how explaining jokes to you is her full-time job and that you don’t have an inch of humour on your body.”

“Well, I guess we–,” Alexia pointed to herself, and then did Y/n. “–are more alike than we thought”

“Why are you insulting me at–” Y/n looked at her watch. “7 in the morning?”

Alexia raised an eyebrow. “Saying you look like me is an insult?”

“Of the worst type,” Y/n nodded.

“Next time you can take the bus to training, then,” Alexia said, rolling her eyes. “Well, anyway don’t go near the girl until I talk to her first,” she warned. “Just stay close to Jana and Vicky.”

Y/n felt the words slip out before she could stop them, but it was too late now. She could see Alexia’s face tighten in the rearview mirror.

“Maybe it’s time I handle my own friendships, huh? I don’t need a babysitter.” She crossed her arms, waiting for Alexia to bite back. “I’m not a kid anymore, you know.”

Alexia bit her lip.

"I know, Estrellita. But I’m not just your captain...I’m family.” she said in a low voice, clenching her wheel. “I care about you, about Olga…not everyone has the best intentions when they want to get close to us; you remember Laura, don’t you?”

Y/n knew Alexia was very aware she was overstepping, but it was like Alexia couldn't help herself.

La Reina meant well, although it felt like she only saw Y/n as this fragile thing that needed constant monitoring.

Alexia never trusted anyone to get close to Y/n and Olga. It was just her super protective nature, but it was still annoying, nonetheless.

It even had been the reason for a lot of arguments between Alexia and Y/n and Alexia and Olga in the past.

This protective behaviour only got worse after Y/n dated Laura. She was seventeen–almost eighteen- just like Y/n, but unfortunately, Laura didn’t like Y/n, not truly. But she enjoyed everything that came with dating Y/n.

Alexia would always take them and Olga on double dates in expensive restaurants, or take them on vacations on tropical islands.

Laura loved it. She loved the luxury that came with being a ‘Putellas’, even if Y/n wasn’t truly one.

During one of those vacations, Laura left her phone unlocked while she and Y/n went swimming; and that’s when Alexia saw: more messages than she could count from different girls all over Spain, all of them with the same flirty undertone.

Olga told Y/n that Alexia had gotten very mad, but that she had been able to calm her down until the trip was over because they couldn't just leave Laura–an underage girl– to fend for herself in another country, even if she was a cheater.

When they got home from the trip, Olga and Alexia sat her down and showed the pictures they had taken of the girl's phone. Y/n was devastated. She already had a very hard time with people, and being cheated and betrayed by Laura was one of the hardest experiences in her life.

Laura was her first and only friend outside of football, and of course, her first girlfriend ever. She didn’t just lose her girlfriend, but she also lost her friend that day.

After that Alexia became properly paranoid with anyone Y/n or Olga got close with. Alexia was scared they would just end up hurt afterwards, just like it was with Laura.

Alexia made herself even more present in Y/n’s life after that, it was like she wasn’t able to live without having Alexia constantly breathing down on her neck.

It wasn’t even the protectiveness that bothered Y/n; it was that she had never gotten the chance to figure things out for herself because Alexia’s presence was so constant all the time.

And since Y/n didn’t have much of a life besides football, Alexia was always there.

Always.

It was hard to know where Alexia ended and Y/n began.

Y/n pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the cars as she started on the streets of Barcelona.

When Kika arrived at the training ground, a shy smile on her face, everybody already knew she was the sweetest person ever. The Portuguese girl had everyone wrapped around their fingers.

Alexia wasn’t a hundred per cent sure she trusted the girl yet, but she was open to getting to know the new midfielder. Alexia had already talked to Kika while she showed her the Barcelona training centre. She seemed genuine, came from a small, but loving family and–as everyone on the Barcelona team–loved football since she was a kid.

Alexia asked everyone to speak with Kika in either English or Spanish since Kika said Catalan was harder to understand. Alexia couldn't help but feel bad when she spoke in Catalan to introduce herself and Kika began sweating.

Y/n watched from afar as Alexia talked with Kika. She saw that the Portuguese girl had brought a Tupperware filled with pastries.

Kika seemed nice–but so did Laura.

Kika had told the team it was Pastel de Belém, a traditional Portuguese pastry, it was an egg custard tart with a creamy filling of eggs, milk and cinnamon inside. She had made and brought them to the team as a present for welcoming her.

When Kika gave one to Y/n, she accepted it shyly, murmuring a thank you.

When Y/n was ready to take a bite, Alexia popped up by her side.

“What do you think are the chances of this being poisoned?” Alexia asked seriously, looking at the sweet and analysing it carefully. “She wouldn't do that on her first day, right? Poison everyone? Maybe she’s a true real Madrid fan and–”

“Ostres, Alexia,”[Damn] Y/n whispered-yelled so no one would hear them. “Please go to therapy! You weirdo. That’s why I don’t have any friends besides Vicky and Jana, only those two can put up with you.”

Y/n left Alexia with a confused expression on her face as she walked to the other side of the pitch, where Pina and Patri were getting ready to start training.

“Bad day with La Reina?” Claudia asked teasingly.

“La Reina was raised by wolves,” Y/n murmured, sitting down on the grass as she gave her first bite of the pastel de belen. “And then she raised me and now I have to deal with this.”

It was sweet and….impressively very good. It had a lemon in it, making it have a sour aftertaste, so it wasn’t overly sweet and sugary.

Y/n liked it a lot. Maybe Olga would agree to try making those for them at home.

Alexia was watching carefully from the other side of the pitch as Y/n ate her pastry; it was almost as if she was waiting for the girl to drop dead at any second.

Y/n decided to ignore Alexia, for the good of her mental health, instead, she put her eyes on Kika, who was still giving everyone on the team small Pastéis de Belém; even the staff got some.

Cute.

Kika was cute too.

She had dark eyes and dark hair, her skin had an olive undertone. And she looked good with the black training kit.

Y/n was almost sure she had already met the girl before, maybe in the U15 Cup, since Spain had played a match against Portugal during the quarter-finals. Alexia had told her the girl was the same age as her, so the chances of them having disputes in some international games were very likely.

Y/n hadn’t googled Kika–not yet. But Alexia had–like the freak she was– and saw that the girl played for Benfica, a club in Lisbon, Portugal before signing with Barcelona.

The club had good statistics–Y/n had googled the club–and it was second in Portugal's women’s league, so Y/n wondered why Kika decided to leave. She was doing very well at Benfica if the number of goals she scored meant anything.

Y/n watched Kika from afar, almost as if she were a mystery. Kika had finished distributing the sweets to everyone and was not sitting on the bench getting her boots ready to start training.

Kika looked a little nervous, her hands were fidgeting with her jersey and she kept pulling her hair with her index finger, something that Y/n did a lot of times.

If Y/n wasn’t such an antisocial person, she would go to Kika and offer some pep talk, but knowing herself, she would just say the wrong thing and make the situation worse.

As if on cue, Jana sat by her side on the pitch and began to scratch, laying her leg on the grass and reaching her feet with her hand.

Y/n nudged Jana’s ribs, almost making the girl fall to her side,

“Ouch,” Jana complained, a frown on her face. “What?”

“Kika–the new girl–looks anxious”, Y/n pointed at Kika with her head, trying to be subtle. “Why don’t you go there and talk to her? Or get Vicky to talk to her, everyone loves Vicky.”

“Why don't you go?” Jana asked, coming back to her stretching. “And hey people love me too. okay?”

“Yeah, everyone loves you, now go,” Y/n rolled her eyes. “If I go I’d say some shit like ‘don’t worry, it only gets worse’ or something similar”

Jana thought for a moment, finger in her temple.

“Yeah, that sounds like you,” Jana agreed, wiking. “Leave it to me.”

Jana got up and headed in Kika’s direction. Y/n watched as Jana smiled at the new girl.

It was like Kika’s shoulder seemed to light up to the interaction. Y/n smiled to herself, happy that Kika was starting to feel at ease. Y/n knew very well how awful it was to feel anxious around people, especially new people.

But then Jana pointed at her, and Kika’s face turned to where Y/n was sitting.

Their eyes met and for a moment Y/n did nothing, only stared. She felt her ear flush and her cheeks getting warm by the sudden attention.

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat when Jana made a very classical ‘come with me’ signal to Kika. And then Jana and Kika walked in her direction.

Y/n began to sweat. She wasn’t good at talking to new people, she was awkward and grumpy and–

“Hi! I’m Kika, it’s nice to meet you. I mean, obviously. You’re—you’re good. Like, really good.” she said, standing in front of Y/n, Jana on her side, smiling as if Y/n wasn’t dying inside.

Y/n was silent as if she had forgotten all her words. She hoped, really hoped, that Kika wasn’t like..her fan or something like that.

Jana kicked her shin, not so gently, which made Y/n talk.

“Right... Well, welcome to Barça.” Y/n mumbled it was all that she had to offer.

No more words were exchanged, Kika looked at her as if waiting for more, but Y/n just looked down and began stretching.

“Well,” Jana said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “This is our Estrellita, she’s a defender, but it seemed like you know her whole life story already, she’s the Princess of Barcelona, bla bla bla–”

“Jana,” Y/n said in a warning. “Stop it.”

She didn’t like it when people were introduced like that. As if her only personality trait was having grown up in La Masia, becoming a good footballer and being some sort of Alexia Putellas’s shadow.

Y/n was way more than football, although she was still trying to find who she was without it.

“Okay, sorry,” Jana crossed her arm. “You’ll know very soon that Y/n doesn’t like when people call her Estrelitta, but I get a free pass because I love to annoy her.”

Jana stuck her tongue playfully at Y/n, who rolled her eyes but smiled.

She couldn't help but notice Kika’s firm gaze on her.

Their awkward conversation was cut short as the manager blew his whistle and said they were going to do training in pairs. Y/n was ready to catch Jana’s arm when Vicky showed up–out of nowhere– and took Jana with her.

Y/n watched Vicky and Jana go to the other side of the pitch, feeling her cheeks blush when she realised Kika watched the whole scene too.

“Would you mind?” Kika asked, a small smile on her face.

“Mind what?” Y/n asked, slightly grumpy.

“Ugn, pairing with me?” she said, changing the weight between her feet.

Y/n felt pressure on her chest. Guilty for not being the most welcoming person around.

“Oh yeah, sure,” Y/n said, trying to smile. “It’d be great.”

They didn’t talk during training, instead focusing on the instructions of the manager. Today’s training was about speed. Person A had to run to the other side of the pitch and take an object that was put there and bring Person B said object, then, person B would have to run to the place the object previously was and put it back.

Y/n and Kika were good at it. They were the fastest. Y/n felt that the victory tasted even better because Jana and Vicky went third overall. That’s what they got from stealing each other from Y/n. But what could they do? That was the downside of being a trio.

Y/n lay down on the pitch, water bottle in hand as she tried to get her breathing in another. Then she felt a shadow on her face, she opened her eyes and saw Kika, a rather awkward smile on her face.

“Hi, can I get one?” Kika asked, pointing at the Gatorade cooler Y/n was next to.

“Hm, yeah,” Y/n said, moving her hand around and pointing at the team. “It’s for, um, everybody, like a–collective cooler.”

Y/n wanted to rip all of her hair out. She didn’t know how to interact with people.

Kika smiled and took Gatorade, sitting next to Y/n.

“You have really nice... uh... running form. Yeah. Super smooth. Like… like an animal, you know.” Kika said, out of nowhere.

“Huh?” Y/n asked, confused, noticing how Kika’s cheek began to red. “An animal?”

“Oh, I mean,” Kika began to stutter, probably realizing what she had said didn’t make any sense. “Like a fast animal, not like a gazelle, more like a–lion? Or better yet… hm.”

“Kika, I think we can both agree we are a little socially awkward,” Y/ said, trying to take the girl out of her misery. “I won’t mind when you say something weird, and I hope you don’t mind when I do it as well.”

Kika laughed shyly as she rubbed the back of her back. “Ok, I agree.”

The manager, again, blew the whistle, cutting their conversation.

“Let’s get back,” Romeu said. “Same pairs as before, we’re going to do some pass training.”

“I guess I got stuck with you again,” Kika said smiling, before getting up and going back to where the girls were.

When training was over, the sun had already set in Barcelona, and the cold air of the evening was setting in. Both Alexia and Yn had taken their showers and were heading home, Alexia was the one driving–again–because she refused to let y/n do so.

Alexia unlocked the front door of their house, stepping inside first, Y/n trailing behind, holding both hers and Alexia’s training bag, since the blonde was carrying in some groceries they had bought on their way home.

The house felt warm–the scent of the chamomile candle Olga had burning lingered in the air. Olga was sprawled across the couch, laptop on her lap and earbuds on, probably working.

She looked up. “Hey, my girls!” She greeted them happily.

Alexia stepped closer to her and kissed her softly on the lips while Y/n rolled her eyes–as she always did. Too much PDA.

“Ew, can you guys stop, I’m right here,” Y/n whined, sitting on the couch as Alexia also rolled her eyes.

“Remind me why didn’t you move away when you were eighteen?” Alexia asked

“Olga didn’t let me,” Y/n said, putting her head on Olga’s lap and pushing Alexia away. “She said she’d miss me too much.”

Olha laughed, caressing Y/n’s scalp.

Olga was one of the only people Y/n let be physically close to her. She was comforting. Almost like a mom.

“So, who pissed you off today’ Olga asked.

“Take a guess,” Alexia huffed out a laugh.

“I’ll give you three guesses, Olguita,” Y/n said, using the same nickname Alexia called Olga.

Olga snorted. “I’m going with Jana, Vicky and…” she squinted her eyes, mocking seriously. “Putellas right here.”

Y/n grinned, feeling relaxed for the first time since training. “Bingo,”

“Tontas.” Alexia shook her head with a small smile on her face. “You’re both ridiculous.” [idiots].

Alexia walked towards the kitchen, tossing some of the grocery bags over her shoulder. “You could tell how it was training instead of gossiping.”

“You know how training was, Ale.” Y/n scoffed. “You were there.”

Alexia vanished into the kitchen, and Olga put her laptop to the side and urged Y/n to sit down, before leaning herself forward, the grin on her face widening.

“Okay, but I wasn’t there,” She said. “So spill it, give me something entertainment that doesn't have anything to do with bad clients.”

“Bad day at work?” Y/n guessed.

“Yep,” Olga nodded. “But forget about it, tell me.”

Y/n hesitated a little. “There’s the new girl, Kika–”

“Oh, the Portuguese one?” Olga perked up and asked. ‘The one Alexia talked about?

“Um yeah,” Y/n said, feeling shy suddenly. “She’s mine and Vicky’s age, she’s a bit awkward and she tried to say hi but then she went all nervous.”

“Poor thing was probably terrified,” Olga said. “First days are scary, especially when you’re playing with…what? Three Ballon d'Or and miss FIFA’s prodigy.”

“FIFA’s prodigy, really?” Y/n asked deadpan.

“Oh that’s how people see you cariño,” Olga said, waving off. “You have to accept it someday–but keep going, what happened?”

“Yeah, well, I dunno… She’s kinda funny, too. Like, not on purpose, but…” Y/n shrugged. “I think she’s alright.”

“Alright, huh” Olga's smile turned sharp. “That’s a glowing review from you."

“Olga,” Y/n groaned, feeling flustered. “Don’t start–it’s nothing like that, she was just very nervous, like fidgeting with her shirt and all that, so Jana went to talk with her and we ended up pairing up for training.”

“Oh, and you noticed all that?” Olga teased, but there was something softer in her voice now. Less playful, more... knowing. Her fingers brushed through Y/n’s hair again, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“I just think she’s alright,” Y/n muttered, stubbornly staring at the ceiling.

“Sure,” Olga said lightly, but her smile lingered like she knew something Y/n didn’t yet.

|PART 2|

Notes: Please like, share and let me know what you think! Feedback is important and makes me want to write even more. :D

Notes//2: I’m planning for this to have around 3 parts. I’ve already written over 11k words, so just let me know if you guys are interested in it! Otherwise, I can focus on my other fics.

#woso fanfic #woso x reader #barça femeni #barça femini fics #kika nazareth #kika nazareth x yn #kika nazareth x reader

685 notes · View notes

vunblr · 4 months ago

Text

Foundations (#2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+. Slight Angst. Fluff. Possible Smut in the future. Neurological Damage. Depiction of Symptoms (Bucky).

Summary: Bucky is doing his best to build a stable life for his newfound son, rescued from the guts of a Hydra facility. As he struggles with unexpected fatherhood and his own circumstances, he meets someone who slowly becomes part of their lives, establishing a connection he never saw coming.

Word Count: 7.7.k.

note: In this universe Steve didn't leave, Tony doesn't know that the Winter Soldier killed his parents, and everything is relatively ok.

Previous Chapter

From Monday to Wednesday, Bucky didn’t take Thomas to kindergarten. He had been away on a mission with Clint, retrieving classified data from a transnational drug dealer organization in Canada before it could disappear for good. It had been a tense operation that required more patience than Bucky liked to admit, but they got the job done.

By Thursday, despite the pounding migraine drilling into his skull, he took Thomas to school. He was exhausted, but after three days away, he wasn’t about to keep the kid out of his routine any longer, and he didn’t want to burden Sam and Steve any longer.

As they approached the entrance, his gaze landed on her. She was holding several small gift bags, and just as he got closer, he saw another parent handing her a neatly wrapped package.

“…Really, thank you so much for taking such good care of Flore. We’re going to miss you,” the man said warmly.

Bucky blinked.

Oh.

Goodbye gifts.

It made sense. That was the polite thing to do, a simple gesture of appreciation. Good manners, acknowledgment of familiarity.

And yet, he had neither thought of it nor had the time to get her anything.

When he finally reached the door with Thomas, she greeted him with the same smile as always, showing no sign of expecting anything from him.

“Well aren’t you popular” he tried to joke.

“Being popular doesn’t pay the rent, but is nice.” She high-fived Thomas, ruffling his hair slightly before he ran off to join the other kids. Bucky watched him go, blinking a couple of times as he watched the child merge with the others.

When he turned back to her, she was shifting her weight slightly, grazing the strap of her bag with her fingers as if debating something.

Then, with a quick breath, she asked, “Are you alright?”

His brow furrowed slightly.

“Mr. Rog- Steve mentioned you were working when he dropped Thomas off these past few days, and-” she hesitated, scanning his face. “No offense, but you look a little… drained.”

His lips parted slightly, and something unreadable flickered behind his eyes. For a moment, he just looked at her, and she felt the creeping sense that maybe she’d overstepped.

“I’m sorry if-”

“Um, no.” He ran a gloved hand over his jaw, exhaling slowly. “It’s alright. I just have a migraine and I just…” He trailed off, as if even speaking was an effort.

Her expression softened, and before she could think twice, she was already rummaging through her jacket pockets. “Oh, that’s the worst. Here-“

She pulled out a pair of sunglasses and held them out to him.

Bucky squinted slightly at her, blinking like he wasn’t sure if she was serious.

“Do you have photophobia right now?” she asked, tilting her head as she studied him.

His mouth opened, then closed. “…What?”

“The light,” she clarified, nudging the glasses toward him. “Is it making it worse?”

A beat. Then, reluctantly, “Yeah.”

She stepped just a little closer, enough that he caught the faintest trace of something floral on her scarf. “Take them,” she said. “I won’t be using them until later, and you can give them back when you pick up Thomas.”

Bucky glanced down at the sunglasses hesitatingly.

“They’re unisex,” she added, a small teasing smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “You won’t look weird.”

His fingers brushed against hers as he finally took them, and neither of them moved away for a second too long.

“…Thanks,” he murmured, slipping them on.

----

Bucky lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the pills to kick in. A blister and a half. He needed his damn metabolism to cooperate for once. Just this once.

He shifted to his side, his landing his gaze on the sunglasses resting on the nightstand.

You look a little drained, she had said.

And he was.

Years ago, he wouldn’t have fought it. He would’ve just rotted in his apartment, letting time blur, barely moving, barely breathing until the serum forced his body to reset. He wouldn’t have eaten, wouldn’t have showered, wouldn’t have cared. Just waited it out in silence, in the dark, until the worst of it passed.

But that wasn’t an option anymore.

Not with Thomas in the house.

He didn’t want the kid worrying about things he shouldn’t have to. He’d already seen how distressed Thomas got when Bucky was too hurt, how his small hands would clutch at his sleeves, how his big blue eyes would fill with silent fear when he witnessed one of Bucky’s episodes.

So, he sucked it up.

He couldn’t rely on Steve or Sam every time. If he was here, he was the only one responsible for Thomas’s care. That was the job. That was what mattered.

Which meant that in the few hours Thomas was at kindergarten, Bucky would do the only thing he could, lie here, breathe through the pain, and hope that by the time pickup rolled around, he’d be functional.

----

By the time pickup rolled around, Bucky had already forced himself out of the apartment. The migraine had dulled into something manageable, not gone, but tolerable. He could function. That was enough.

Still, instead of walking straight up to the gate, he lingered nearby, half-hidden as he watched the other parents pick up their kids, exchanging smiles and small talk. He let the minutes slip by, waiting until only a handful of them remained before finally making his way forward.

He lifted a hand in a small wave, keeping his distance. Thomas spotted him instantly, and his little face lighted up as he ran toward him.

She, however, hesitated. Her brows pulled together slightly as she noticed Bucky wasn’t approaching fully, like he was deliberately keeping himself at the edge of things. But, instead thinking too much into it, she turned back to say goodbye to the remaining children.

Eventually, she moved toward the entrance, ready to grab her things and head out, until Thomas’s voice rang out behind her.

She barely had time to turn before the kid came bounding up to her, gripping a slightly wild but lovely bouquet of daisies.

“These are for you!” he announced, a little breathless from the run.

Blinking in surprise, she knelt down. “For me?”

Thomas nodded eagerly, holding the flowers out with both hands. “We’ll miss you!” Then, with great importance, he added, “Daddy says that if you put an aspirnin- aspren- aspirine in the water, they’ll stay fresher for longer.”

She let out a soft, surprised laugh before her gaze caught on something tucked between the stems. A small card, slightly crumpled from Thomas’s grip.

Thank you for everything. Barnes Family

“Thank you, sweetheart,” she said, pulling Thomas into a warm hug. The boy giggled, squeezing her back before darting off toward his dad.

She swallowed, glancing past Thomas toward the gate.

Bucky was still standing back, his gaze unreadable behind the sunglasses she had lent him that morning. When he noticed her looking, he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

She smiled, tightening her fingers gently around the bouquet. Then she watched them go, and turned to walk inside, with slower steps.

The flowers had moved her more than they should have.

Almost every parent had given her a small farewell gift: a box of chocolates, a scented candle, a handwritten note. All sweet gestures, all appreciated. But somehow, this felt different. More personal. More thoughtful.

Maybe it was because Thomas had delivered them with such excitement, his little hands gripping the stems like they were something important. Maybe it was that it’s been ages since someone gave her flowers.

Or maybe… it was because he was the one who bought them. And, she liked the idea more than she was willing to admit.

----

Friday morning, it was Steve who arrived at the kindergarten gate with Thomas.

The boy clung to his uncle’s hand, his usual energy was dimmed, and when he saw her, he only offered a small wave instead of his usual eager greeting.

She crouched slightly, offering him a gentle smile. “Good morning, Thomas.”

He mumbled a quiet “Morning” back, shifting on his feet.

Steve exhaled, giving her an apologetic look as he handed over the sunglasses she had lent Bucky the day before. “He wanted to stay home with his dad,” he explained. “Bucky’s… indisposed. If he seems a little off today, that’s probably why.”

She took the sunglasses, brushing her fingers briefly against the frame before slipping them into her pocket. “Oh, is he sick?”

Steve hesitated, a fraction of a second too long. Then, with an tight smile, he nodded. “Still dealing with that migraine.”

It wasn’t a lie. Not exactly. But it wasn’t the full truth, either.

The truth was more complicated.

Since coming back from the mission with Clint, Bucky had suffered a couple of seizures, probably triggered by stress and fatigue. It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. Just another mark Hydra had left on his body, a collateral damage from years of forced resets in the chair.

The migraines, the memory lapses, the muscle spasms, Bucky had learned to live with those. But the seizures were the worst. They left him wrecked afterward, his body aching like he’d been through a fight he didn’t remember.

So no, he wasn’t just indisposed.

But Steve wasn’t going to tell her that.

Not when Bucky would rather chew glass than let people see him vulnerable.

----

Thomas was quieter than usual that day. He followed the routine, sat in his usual spot during storytime, and played alongside his classmates, but there was a certain way in his movements, like his mind was elsewhere.

During free play, as she helped a group of kids build a tower with wooden blocks, Thomas suddenly looked up at her, furrowing his little brows in thought.

“Um Miss…?”

She smiled. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“Do adults get more hurt than kids when they fall?” he asked, tilting his head. “Because they’re sooo tall?”

She chuckled at the logic. “It’s about the same for everyone,” she explained gently. “Sometimes kids bounce back quickly, and sometimes adults do, too. It just depends on how they fall.”

Thomas pursed his lips, considering that. Then, after a pause, he murmured, “Oh. That’s good. I was afraid Daddy was hurt.”

Something in her chest tightened.

She kept her voice even. “Why’s that, honey?”

Thomas didn’t seem to think much of the question, busy stacking blocks on top of each other. “’Cause sometimes Daddy falls a lot.” The words were so casual, so absentminded, that it took her a second to process them.

Her grip on the wooden block in her hand tightened slightly. “He does?”

Thomas nodded, completely unaware of the weight his words carried. “Not all the time,” he added quickly, as if to reassure her. “Just sometimes. And then he gets really tired after.”

She swallowed, keeping her expression neutral. “I see.”

Thomas hummed in response, satisfied with her answer, and went back to his building, already distracted by something else.

But she wasn’t.

She watched him for a moment longer, as her mind quietly turned over what he’d just said. Something about Thomas’s words unsettled her, but at the end of the day, it wasn’t really her business.

It would be weird to ask Steve, and even if she did, what could she say? Hey, Thomas mentioned his dad falls a lot, should I be worried? No. That wasn’t her place.

So she let it be.

But the thought kept occupying her mind. Especially because today was her last full class with the kids. The festival was over the weekend, and then that was it. Monday would come, and Jane would take over.

Maybe that was why, glancing around to make sure the other kids weren’t watching, she pulled two lollipops from her pocket. With a little wink, she placed them in his small hands. “Make sure your dady gets one, okay? And… I hope he feels better soon,” she said gently.

Thomas nodded, tucking the candies into his pocket. “Thank you, me too.”

----

Steve arrived to pick up Thomas just in time, jogging to the gate to greet the boy and ruffle his hair. Then he turned toward her. “How’d he do today?”

She smiled, though there was something… sad in it. “Pretty good, considering he was feeling a little down. I uh- hope James is recovering well.” she stuttered a little. Then, with a small smile, she added, “It’d be wonderful to have you both at the festival. Steve smiled. “But in case you can’t make it, and we don’t see each other again…” she fidgeted lightly with the strap of her bag before she continued, “I just wanted to thank you for helping us with the booths.”

Steve quirked a brow, puzzled.

That’s when she realized, he didn’t know.

Of course, why would he? It’s not like Thomas’s father would go out of his way to mention her to his friend.

“Oh, um… I’m just the substitute teacher,” she explained, suddenly feeling awkward. “The titular returns on Monday.”

Steve’s jaw ticked slightly. “Oh. Bucky didn’t- that’s a shame. After all these months, the kids must be super attached.”

She exhaled a little, nodding. “Yeah, it’s tough to leave them.”

He tilted his head. “Do you… have another school lined up?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. I’m still looking for openings. In the meantime, I mostly fill the idle time nannying.”

Steve’s brows lifted slightly like he was filing that information away. “Makes sense.” Then, with an easy smile, he clapped Thomas on the back and said, “Well, ma’am, I’ll definitely be coming tomorrow for those pies, Bucky or no Bucky. And who knows? Maybe I’ll bring some people along.”

There was something in his tone that made her blink, like he was already planning something she wasn’t in on.

She narrowed her eyes playfully. “Should I be worried?”

Steve just grinned. “Nah. Just keep an eye out.”

-----

Bucky shifted on the couch when Steve and Thomas entered the apartment, resting his elbows on his thighs as he leaned forward. He offered the kid a tired smile. “Hey, bud. Go wash your hands and I’ll make you some cocoa.”

Thomas nodded obediently, padding toward the bathroom.

The second he was out of earshot, Steve dropped onto the couch next to Bucky. “So… Tommy’s teacher told me she’s leaving.” He stated casually.

Bucky’s jaw clenched and then grunted. A non-answer.

Steve’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You going to the event this weekend?”

Bucky exhaled sharply, dragging a hand over his face. “I should take Thomas, yeah.”

The blonde continued to watch him with intent, almost without blinking.

Bucky looked up, tensing his shoulders. “What?”

“Are we going to pretend it’s not the last chance to see her?”

Bucky’s expression hardened and his posture turned rigid as he looked at his friend. “You don’t give up, do you?”

Steve didn’t even blink. “You know it's not my forte.”

Bucky exhaled sharply. “Look, I appreciate this… need you have to push me forward, but I don’t need it, Stevie. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now.” there was an edge in his voice, a weight that made Steve’s shoulders drop just slightly.

“I know you do,” he said, his eyes never leaving Bucky’s face. “But maybe that’s why-”

“Don’t.” Bucky’s voice was firm and final. “Just… don’t.”

Steve sighed, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the couch. “Man, you are stubborn.”

Bucky’s eyes flashed, and his voice snapped low and controlled, careful not to carry to the bathroom where Thomas was washing his hands. “You’re overthinking something that isn’t even a thing.”

Steve’s calm expression didn’t change, which only made Bucky’s jaw clench tighter. “You know damn well my few attempts at dating were a disaster,” he continued, sharply. “And I only did it because you kept pestering me about it.”

Steve opened his mouth, but Bucky didn’t let him get a word in.

“You don’t get it.” His voice dipped lower, rougher.

His shoulders hunched just slightly, his gaze dropping. “No sane person would look at me and think… and she’s not into me. I’d know.”

Steve’s face softened, as he took in the slumped set of Bucky’s shoulders, the way his hand stayed fisted at his side like he was holding himself together by only force of will.

“Bucky…”

But he just shook his head, standing up abruptly. “Just drop it, Steve.”

And with that, he walked off stiffly as he moved toward the hallway.

-----

Saturday arrived, and the festival was bursting with people.

The courtyard buzzed with laughter, music, and the scent of baked goods wafting through the air. Families crowded the booths, with hands full of cupcakes, crafts, and raffle tickets. The children dashed between the stalls, their little faces painted with colorful designs, excited.

And, of course, a noticeable crowd gathered around three particular men.

Steve had shown up with Sam and Clint in tow, and Sam -being Sam- had tweeted about it. That was all it took to draw in curious onlookers and eager fans who wanted to catch a glimpse of the Avengers in civilian mode. Some were bold enough to ask for selfies, which Sam graciously agreed to with his signature charm. Steve kept it low-key, smiling politely while Clint grumbled but still posed when cornered by particularly persistent fans.

The buzz from their appearance did wonders for sales. The bake sale sold out twice, and the raffle tickets were gone in record time.

She watched it all from the distance, with a pleased smile on her face. It was turning out even better than she’d hoped.

Then, she caught sight of Steve talking with the director, shaking her hand as he discreetly handed her an envelope. Even from afar, she saw the way the woman’s eyes widened before her hand flew to her mouth, clearly struggling to keep her composure. It didn’t take a genius to guess whose name was on that check. Things were going well, better than well, and that was good. The festival was a success, the kids were having a blast, and the school would benefit enormously from the donations.

She was happy. Truly.

But… she also couldn’t ignore the twinge of disappointment she felt as the day passed by. She’d hoped to see him there. Maybe standing in a corner, lurking on the periphery with his hands shoved in his jacket pockets, and shoulders slightly hunched as if trying to take up less space.

But as the afternoon wore on and the sun began to dip lower, she had to admit to herself that it wasn’t going to happen.

She wouldn’t see him again.

Oh well. It was just an innocent crush, after all.

Nothing serious. Nothing life-altering. Just a harmless infatuation from observing and interacting with him on a daily basis, the same way she did with any other parent.

With the little difference that she didn’t go to work every morning wondering if any other parent would be wearing that blue henley that suited him so well. Or if his hair would be left loose, or pulled back in that short, neat ponytail that made his sharp features even more striking.

Or if maybe she might find an excuse to have some trivial physical contact. A casual brush of fingers when giving him a paper, a brief touch on her arm to get her attention.

Stupid, she chided herself, shaking her head as she moved to straighten the crafts table. It wasn’t like that. It couldn’t be like that.

----

Eventually, she found herself chatting with Steve and company before they took their leave.

They were… surprisingly normal.

Mr. Wilson -Sam- had a warm, easygoing demeanor. He complimented the cinnamon rolls with genuine enthusiasm and asked questions about the neighborhood, curious about the local community.

Clint, on the other hand, was… well. He made a big show of browsing the crafts table, holding up a knitted cat plushie with a serious expression. “So, if I get this for my dog… how long before he tears its head off?”

She stifled a laugh. “Depends on the dog, I suppose.”

He nodded solemnly, turning the plushie this way and that. “Yeah… Lucky’s got a soft spot for cat toys. Rips ‘em to shreds out of love, y’know?”

Steve rolled his eyes, muttering, “Pretty sure he eats them out of spite.”

Clint gasped in mock outrage. “How dare you accuse him of malice!”

They were good people. Easy people. And for a second, she understood how Thomas could be so fond of his father’s companions.

As they said their goodbyes, she almost asked Steve about him. The words were right there, hovering on the tip of her tongue. How’s James? Is he… alright?

But she swallowed them back.

----

After the Avengers trio left, the festival slowly quieted down. Without the crowd magnet that was Sam’s tweet, the streets grew calmer, and the noise of conversation softened as people trickled out. The streetlights flickered on, casting warm glows along the sidewalks.

She was absentmindedly rearranging a set of crocheted coasters on the table when a familiar voice sounded behind her.

Low, a little rough.

“How much for the coasters?”

Her heart gave a startled jolt as she turned around.

There he was, hands in his jacket pockets, hair pulled back neatly, the streetlight casting a soft glow over his tired features.

She opened her mouth, then closed it. “I- uh…” She cleared her throat, her smile slipping out before she could stop it. “Didn’t expect to see you here. Where’s Thomas?”

“He’s already playing with that girl… Fiona, or Flora,” Bucky replied, glancing toward the playground. “Apparently, she just got here. Same as us.”

She followed his gaze, watching the children chase each other, laughter echoing through the yard. “They get along well.”

“Yeah.” His eyes softened, lingering on the kids before he looked back at her. “Thank you for the sunglasses, by the way.”

Right. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she said quickly, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. “I get migraines, too, so I know how it can be sometimes.”

His lips twitched, almost a smile. “Yeah. They helped.”

She rocked back on her heels, brushing the edge of the table behind her with her fingers. “I’m glad.” He nodded, dropping his gaze for a moment. “And-” She couldn’t suppress the smile that spread across her face, “thank you for the flowers.”

His lips twitched, just enough to soften his expression as he lifted his gaze toward her. “Not too old-fashioned, I hope.”

Her eyes widened. “No, I… loved them,” she declared, almost too earnestly. She felt a little silly, but the words tumbled out before she could stop them. “The last time I got flowers was… well, a friend brought them when I was in the hospital for appendicitis… like five years ago.” She chuckled lightly, brushing the edge of the table again, a nervous habit she didn’t even realize she had.

There it was. The opening he should have ignored.

But he didn’t.

“And… what presents do your boyfriend give you on special occasions then?”

The question came out more casual than he felt. He kept his posture relaxed, like he didn’t really care about the answer. But his eyes were locked on her, sharp and unwavering.

Her mouth parted, and her eyes widened as heat flooded her cheeks. She looked down, fidgeting with the table’s edge again. “Oh, um… I’m not… I’m not seeing anybody right now.”

Bucky’s jaw shifted, and his teeth clenched before he relaxed them. His body unconsciously leaned just a fraction closer. “Oh.”

She looked up then, and their gazes met. His were piercing, framed by dark circles that spoke of exhaustion, but seemed to intensify the blue.

So, not seeing anybody. His throat bobbed, and his shoulders stiffened. He hadn’t expected to get this far. He exhaled, slowly and measured. “Right.”

Her gaze flickered down, suddenly finding the space between their feet very interesting. A strand of hair slipped from behind her ear, falling across her cheek, and she pushed it back again.

Before either of them could say another word, Thomas came running, voice loud and cheerful as he yelled. “Miss Y/n! Look!”

They both turned, and the spell broke as the child waved a giant cookie with excitement. “Flora’s mom gave me this!”

She forced herself to laugh. “Wow, that’s huge! You better save some for your dad.”

Thomas grinned, already taking a big bite. “No way!”

Bucky huffed, as a reluctant smile pulled at his lips. “Figures.”

The kid then scampered off, cookie half gone before he even made it back to the playground.

The moment gone, Bucky shifted, and his body tensed when he realized how close he was standing. He took a step back, squaring his shoulders. “I, uh… better keep an eye on him.”

She nodded, finally letting go of the table. “Yeah… of course.”

Before he walked away, she hesitated but found her voice. “I’m glad you came.”

His posture stilled and he straightened himself before slowly turning to face her. His gaze softened, his always-present guarded look slipping just for a moment.

“…Yeah. Me too.”

----

After their conversation, Bucky found himself hovering on the edges while keeping an eye on Thomas, his gaze instinctively drifting back to her as she moved between the booths, helping kids pick out treats, chatting easily with parents, her laughter blending into the warm evening air.

He lingered longer than he meant to, always just a few steps away but never quite close enough. Every time he tried to approach her again, something got in the way.

A parent pulled her aside to thank her. A kid called out her name, needing help. Another teacher waved her over, asking her opinion on where to store the leftover banners.

Bucky’s mouth would open, half-formed words on his tongue, but then he’d shut it again, stepping back, tensing his shoulders as the opportunity slipped away. Time slipped by, and the evening grew cooler as the crowd began to thin. Booths were closing up, the parents gathered their kids, and the buzz of excitement slowly winded down.

Eventually, Thomas tugged at his sleeve, his small voice pulling Bucky from his thoughts. “Daddy… I’m bored.”

Bucky blinked, looking down at him.

The kid’s eyes were drooping, since the day’s excitement clearly caught up to him. “Can we go home now?”

Bucky exhaled, resigned. “Yeah, kiddo. Let’s go.”

Thomas nodded, and then looked back toward the crafts booth, scrunching up his face. “Wait… I wanna say goodbye to Miss Y/n.”

His throat felt dry. But he swallowed it down, nodding as he squeezed his son’s fingers back. “Alright.”

He straightened his posture, forcing his shoulders to relax, willing himself to push past the stupid, adolescent feeling twisting in his gut. This wasn’t about him. It was for Thomas. Just for Thomas.

So he took a breath and walked toward her.

She was at the crafts booth, boxing up leftover yarn and packing away the crocheted coasters. When they approached, she looked up, and her eyes widened before a warm smile softened her face. “Hey, Thomas.” Then her gaze flicked to Bucky, lingering for a second too long on him before she looked back at the boy. “And James.”

Bucky’s chest tightened again, but he gave a curt nod, unconsciously squeezing Thomas’s hand just a bit tighter.

Thomas stepped forward, and tilted back his head to look up at her. “You’re really leaving?”

Her smile faltered, and she crouched down, “Yeah, buddy. I am.”

Thomas’s face fell, and his lips curled into a sad frown. “But… who’s gonna read the stories now?”

Her eyes shimmered, but her smile stayed firm. “Miss Jane will. And she’s really good at funny voices, too.”

Thomas’s nose wrinkled. “But I like your voices better.”

A laugh broke through her lips, soft and warm. “You’re gonna be just fine, kiddo. And hey, maybe I’ll come visit sometime, okay?”

Thomas’s eyes brightened. “Promise?”

“Yeah. I promise.”

Thomas beamed, stepping forward and wrapping his little arms around her neck. She stiffened, just for a moment, before hugging him back, closing her eyes as she held him close.

Bucky’s chest ached. He looked away, trying to ignore the sting of it all. This was just for Thomas.

When she finally pulled back, she ruffled his hair. “Take care of yourself, okay? And be good for your dad.”

Thomas nodded, his smile wide and sincere. “I will!”

She stood up, drifting her gaze back to Bucky. “Well, again, I’m glad you two could make it.”

His shoulders tensed, and he flicked his gaze to the side. “Yeah. Figured Thomas would want to… y’know.”

She nodded, pressing her lips together, a shadow crossing her face. “Of course.”

For a second, the words were right there. The things he wanted to say, the things he knew he should say.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he just gave a stiff nod. “Take care.”

Her smile faltered, and her hands fidgeted with the edge of the box. “You too, James.”

Thomas tugged at his hand, his little voice breaking through the moment. “Come on, Papa. I’m tired.”

“Yeah, kiddo,” Bucky murmured. “Let’s go.”

He turned around, guiding his son away.

He didn’t look back.

Not even when he wanted to.

-----

A couple of weeks passed, and their daily life settled into a certain rhythm. Thomas adjusted well enough to the new teacher. According to him, she was “nice” and “funny,” but then he’d always add, with a little pout, “But Miss Y/n was better.”

Bucky didn’t have much to say to that. He just ruffled his son’s hair and changed the subject, pretending like the kid’s words didn’t affect him.

He felt drained again. It was getting harder to balance parenthood, missions, and the neurological bullshit that seemed determined to make his life a living hell. The migraines were more frequent, and the muscle spasms in his shoulder were more stubborn. And there were days when the exhaustion sank so deep into his bones, that he felt like he was drowning.

His temper was shorter. His mood was broodier, and that was saying a lot.

Not in front of Thomas, of course. He forced himself to keep it together around the kid, to push down the irritability and the tension coiling under his skin. But that meant the rest of his social circle got the brunt of it.

Steve noticed. They all did.

And Steve -being Steve- decided to stage an intervention ambushing in his living room.

“You need to find a nanny,” he said one evening, firmly.

“No,” Bucky snapped, not even looking up from his coffee. “I’m not letting a stranger into my house.”

Steve’s jaw tightened. “Buck, you can’t keep this up. Eventually, you’re going to have to do something about it.”

Bucky’s shoulders stiffened, tightening his grip around his mug.

Steve’s voice softened, but his resolve didn’t waver. “We’re all here for you. But we’ve got our own responsibilities, too. Our own missions, our own lives.” He paused. “You’re not a burden. You’re not in this alone, but you’ve got to figure out a way to make things work, not only for Thomas, for you too.”

The words settled like stones in Bucky’s gut.

He knew Steve was right. He knew he was leaning on the team too much, burdening them with his fucked-up life and his chaotic mind. But hearing it out loud stung in a way that made him feel like a failure all over again.

----

That week, he had to travel with Clint to Canada for a mission. He had made arrangements with Steve for Thomas to stay at his place. It felt like another burden to drop on his best friend, but he didn’t feel he had another choice.

Things ended a day earlier than expected, and Bucky didn’t bother going back to his apartment first. He was bone-tired, dirty, and stiff from travel, but he just wanted to see his kid. Make sure he was okay.

He called Steve, but there was no answer. Not unusual, but still irritating.

Grumbling under his breath, he made his way to his place and rang the doorbell twice before he heard footsteps approaching.

The snarky remark he’d been ready to throw died in his throat the second the door swung open.

Because it wasn’t Steve standing there.

It was her.

Wearing a floral apron, hands dusted with flour, and a faint streak of it on her cheek as she blinked up at him in shock. Her mouth opened, then closed, her eyes wide.

Bucky’s brain shut down. His body locked up, as he looked at her, so familiar and yet so impossibly out of place. He barely managed a croaked, “What… what are you doing here?”

She blinked again, then straightened her pose, wiping her hands on the apron. “Oh- um… Hi, James.”

Hearing his name on her lips again made him feel things, and for a second, he forgot how to breathe.

She cleared her throat, glancing over her shoulder. “Steve had to run an errand, and he asked me to watch Thomas for a while.” Her eyes flicked back to his, “I… didn’t know you’d be back today.”

Bucky stood there, frozen in the doorway, his tired mind struggling to catch up. His voice was rough, edged with something he didn’t understand. “Yeah. Came back early.”

She shifted her weight, playing nervously with the edge of her apron. “Right… well, Thomas is inside. We… we were making cookies.” She hesitated, then added, “He said they were your favorite.”

Bucky’s heart did something stupid, something he didn’t like, and he had to clear his throat to shake it off.

“Yeah. He’s… he’s right.”

She smiled then, soft and warm, relaxing her posture. “Well… come in, then.”

He stood there for half a second longer than he should have, as his brain still struggled to process the fact that she was here, in Steve’s house, baking cookies with his kid.

“Where’s Thomas?” His voice came out rougher than intended, low and gravelly as he moved past her, already unfastening the straps on his tactical vest.

She blinked, momentarily stunned before she managed to answer, “In… in the bathroom.”

Bucky grunted, not even looking at her as he pulled a knife from his thigh holster, the blade catching the light before he tucked it into an old cupboard by the hallway. Then came another knife, a handgun, and an extra clip, all disappearing behind the tiny wooden doors.

She knew it was rude to stare. She knew it.

But it was the first time she’d seen him like this.

The tactical suit made his broad shoulders seem impossibly solid, and the black fabric hugged his body, emphasizing the lines of his arms, as the curve of his biceps strained under the worn seams. The vest molded against his chest, doing nothing to hide the muscular expanse beneath it, or concealing just how strong he was.

His thick thighs were framed by those dark cargo pants that clung to him as he moved. Even weighed down by holsters and utility belts, he moved with a lethal grace. And his hair -God, his hair- disheveled and muddy, framing his face and somehow softening the hard cut of his jaw.

There was dirt smudged across his cheekbone, and a faint bruise along his jaw, evidence of whatever fight he’d been in. His lips were pressed in a thin line giving him an edge of danger.

Danger.

That was the word. He looked dangerous. And damn, if that wasn’t… hot.

He ran a hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but what are you doing here?” He turned to her, his blue eyes sharp and piercing. “Where’s Steve?”

She straightened, nervously brushing her fingers against the fabric of her apron before she crossed her arms, tightening her posture. “I don’t know, sincerely. He said he had things to do and asked me to babysit for a couple of hours.” Her chin lifted just slightly. “I told him the last time we saw each other that I’d be doing this until I found a spot in another kindergarten.”

Bucky’s shoulders tensed.

“He said he asked you for my number,” she added, just a touch defensive.

He shifted his posture, narrowing his eyes. “Did he now?”

She tilted her head, pulling her brows together. “Didn’t he?”

He didn’t answer and flicked his gaze to the side, jaw working as he realized what happened. That punk.

Steve must’ve swiped her number from his phone at some point since he hadn’t deleted the contact yet.

His teeth clenched, and his body went rigid. Of course, he had planned this. He could practically hear that self-satisfied voice in his head, calling him out for being stubborn.

“Um… is everything alright?”

Her voice broke softly through his thoughts. Her arms were still crossed, and there was a crease of concern on her brow, as she pressed her lips together while she watched him.

Bucky exhaled slowly, relaxing his stance just a fraction. “…Yeah. Everything’s fine.” For a second, he didn’t know what to do. How to stand. What to say.

Silence.

Awkward, heavy silence.

She shifted her weight from one foot to another, nervously twisting the apron’s hem. “Well, I’m… I’m going to check on the cookies.”

He gave her a stiff nod.

The moment she rounded the corner and got out of sight, he let out a slow, shuddering breath. His shoulders sagged, and his head dipped forward as he pressed his fingers to his temples.

Fuck.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t fantasized about the possibility of seeing her again. Hell, the way his chest stuttered when she opened the door was proof of that. But the fact that Steve had the nerve to call her without letting him know bothered him.

He knew this wasn’t accidental. Not by a long shot. Steve didn’t do accidental when it came to him. The punk knew very well about the nightmares. About the shitty migraines and the episodes that left Bucky feeling like his body was betraying him. About the way he was falling behind, failing to balance it all.

He had been on his case for weeks about getting a nanny, and now… this? Her of all people?

His fingers curled into fists.

Damn it, Steve knew. He knew, and he’d gone behind his back, meddling in things he had no right to touch. He’d give the punk a piece of his mind for this.

Just as soon as he could breathe normally again.

“Daddy!”

Bucky’s head snapped up just in time to catch Thomas barreling toward him, flinging his little arms around his waist with all the force his tiny body could muster.

The impact made Bucky stumble back half a step before kneeling and wrapping his arms securely around his son.

He let himself sink into the moment, holding Thomas close, shutting his eyes for a second longer than necessary. The kid’s head was buried against his chest, warm and solid, real.

He stayed like that, resting his chin on the child’s messy hair until the boy started chattering excitedly.

“Daddy, we made cookies! Y/n let me mix the dough and everything!” Thomas pulled back just enough to look up at him, with bright eyes. “Uncle Steve was busy, but she came, and it was so much fun!”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, but he forced himself to smile, nodding along as Thomas continued to recount his afternoon. His little voice was so cheerful, that Bucky couldn’t help but soften, brushing his fingers through the boy’s hair.

“I’m glad you had fun, buddy.” His voice was calm, even if his thoughts were anything but.

Meanwhile, she was still in the kitchen, apron in hand, tracing absentmindedly the floral pattern with her fingers as she leaned against the counter.

She didn’t know how to face him. Not after that awkward, clipped conversation. Not after the way his body had stiffened, and his eyes had narrowed as he realized she was there.

There was definitely something going on.

When Steve called, his voice had been chirpy and casual. He’d said he remembered her mentioning she was open to babysitting, and he asked if she was available for a few hours.

She’d said yes without a second thought.

They set a day and time, and she showed up expecting to watch Steve’s kid, or maybe a relative’s. She never imagined that Steve lived alone in his apartment and she’d walk in and find Thomas there.

He had been vague -really vague- when she asked who she’d be watching. He hadn’t lied, exactly. But he’d definitely led her to believe it would be his responsibility she was taking on.

When she arrived, Steve explained to her that Bucky was away, and he was in charge of the kid for some days. But then, some important things came up -again, he’d been vague about the details- and he couldn’t leave Thomas with just anyone.

“So I remembered what you told me,” he’d said with a disarming smile. “and asked Bucky for your number. He instantly agreed to it, he was so thrilled when I told him you were the one watching after the little guy.”

It had made sense at the time. He’d seemed so sure, so confident when he’d explained it all. And of course, it felt good to see Thomas again.

But then Bucky showed up at the door, tactical suit half undone, weapons dropping from his holsters, and she realized he didn’t look thrilled.

His expression had been guarded, his body was totally tense and his words clipped and cold. Not exactly the reaction of someone who had agreed to this arrangement. But then again… why would she suspect anything when Captain America himself had stood there, looking her straight in the eye with that earnest, honest gaze of his, and told her everything was fine?

And now here she was, hiding in the kitchen, debating whether she should leave or stay until Steve came back, since, technically, he was her employer for the day.

And, well… she needed the money.

Her fingers tightened around the edge of the counter.

Perfect. Just perfect.

How the hell did she get herself into this?

She looked toward the hallway, hearing Thomas’s cheerful voice as he babbled to his father. She could just make out the low, rumbling sound of Bucky’s replies, his tone softer and calmer than when he spoke to her.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, the word slipping out before she could stop it.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she started to transfer the cookies from the cooling rack to a tray, arranging them with a precision that bordered on obsessive. Anything to keep her hands busy. Anything to avoid thinking about the man who was currently standing just a few feet away.

Bucky heard her curse under her breath, quiet but unmistakable, and something twisted uncomfortably in his chest.

None of this was her fault.

He exhaled through his nose, raking a hand through his grimy hair, wincing as his fingers caught on a tangle. He needed a shower. He needed sleep. He needed to not be in this position, trying to smooth over a situation Steve had thrown them both into.

But here they were.

Steeling himself, he walked toward the kitchen, feeling ridiculously out of place in his tactical gear against the warm, homey scent of cinnamon and sugar.

She was still standing by the counter, transferring the cookies onto a tray, tense. So tense. He hesitated for a second before clearing his throat.

“Hey.”

She startled slightly but didn’t turn around.

He stood in the doorway, blocking some of the fading daylight, with his broad body.

“I, um…” He scratched at the back of his neck, brushing his fingers through tangled hair, already regretting how awkward this was. “Can you pass me a glass?”

Finally, she looked at him and nodded, moving to the cupboard and reaching up on her toes, grabbing one and handing it over without a word. Her fingers brushed his, soft and warm, and his grip tightened on the glass just a little too hard.

He filled it from the tap, taking a slow sip, using the seconds to gather his thoughts.

“I forgot…” He sighed, rolling the glass between his fingers. “Steve asked me for your number when I was out of the country. My mind was… elsewhere.”

“Oh.” Her shoulders relaxed, and the tension in her expression eased just a bit. Were her eyes a little glassy?

Oh, he was definitely going to strangle Captain Jerk the minute he saw him.

“Yeah… so, sorry if I was rude back there.” He exhaled heavily, setting the glass down on the counter. “I know it’s by no means an excuse, but I’m tired-”

“Don’t worry,” she cut in softly, with a gentle voice as she shook her head. “Really. It’s fine.”

His lips parted slightly, surprised at how easily she let him off the hook.

“I can’t even imagine…” She waved her hand up and down, gesturing at his disheveled state. The dirty tactical suit, the bruises blooming under his jaw, and his wild, tangled hair.

Her gaze lingered a little too long on the way the fabric stretched over his chest. Luckily, he didn’t notice since his gaze drifted toward the tray of cookies.

Her lips curved into a smile. “Want one?”

He looked up, his gaze met hers, and for just a second, she forgot how to breathe. His blue eyes were softer now, warmer.

“…Yeah.” His lips twitched, just slightly. “Yeah, I do.”

Her heart skipped, and her fingers trembled just a little as she tilted the tray toward him.

He hesitated just for a second like deciding which one to choose, then his eyes flicked again to her face. And there, sensing the warmth of his body standing so close to her, and his scent -sweat and leather, dust and something distinctively him- filling the small kitchen, she realized, with a sinking feeling, that she was in so much trouble.

Next Chapter

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