#and that is SO HARD FOR WHY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[fuckgenderiamalex]

But they sure as hell will not invite me to any social interactions or friends-making situations

affirmation: nobody is going to shoot me for being awkward

[novaimperia]

★ asking roommate!sukuna if he’ll pretend to be your boyfriend

“What? No?”

At the moment, you’re both at a frat party you didn’t know the other would be at. If you knew Sukuna would be here you still would have gone but, judging by the look of complete and utter irritation on his face, he probably wouldn’t say the same. Actually, it was pretty funny to walk into the party, make eye contact with him and watch that ‘You’ve got to be fucking with me’ look manifest in his body language. 

What isn’t as funny is the weird guy in your lecture who can’t take a hint and keeps touching you. He’s here now and the shudders running up and down your body tells you very clearly he’s aware of your presence and has plans to do something about it. 

“Sukuna, please. I’ll owe you one.”

Sitting on a packed sofa, legs spread, he scowls up at you, piercings glinting with the movement. “I don’t need you to owe me one.”

“Sukuna, come on. You’re a scary motherfucker, just be touchy with me for a second and intimidate him.”

He takes a swig of his beer. “Put your big girl panties on and tell him to fuck off.”

Okay, so clearly he’s not going to change his mind anytime soon. Groaning, you stomp away from him and to your friends. You both walk over to the kitchen, intent to enjoy this party to the fullest. Shots go down in flashes, music blares and deafen, you sway and grind and laugh. Nothing will take away this burst of youth where recklessness meets lack of conceivable consequences. 

That’s what you think, anyway, until sweaty hands start rubbing your shoulders. You stiffen. 

“Aw, you didn’t need to wear something so slutty for me. You’ve already got my attention.”

You can’t see your friends anymore – there are too many people, too tightly packed together, the lights are too dim and the music too loud to do something about the body pressed up behind you. Hairs on your arm standing on end, you fight the disgust recoiling deep in your bones and firmly say, “I’m sorry, I’m really not interested. Please leave me alone.”

“Don’t be like that, baby. I see the way you look at me.” Gripping your hips, he tugs you hard back into him when you try to shuffle away. His clutch is punishing and his nails dig into your skin. You hiss. “Let’s go back to my place and I’ll show you a good time.”

Pulling you away with him, your friends disappear in the crowd. you’re powerless against his strength. He’s too eager, too clumsy, too drunk to even have any semblance of sense. Guys like him are dangerous. Guys like him get what they want. Guys like him don’t stop at ‘no.’ “Let me go! Let me fucking go!”

“Don’t be a bitc–”

“You hard of hearing or something?” Sukuna yanks the guys away by his collar, snatching him up like a puppy. “Get the fuck outta here before I beat your ass.”

The guy scoffs, forcing a bravado on. "Who the h-hell are you? This is none of your business; she's my girl."

Sukuna takes a step forward. A cruel sneer twists his face into something dark, something sinister, practically malevolent. "Yeah? Explain to me how she finds her way into my bed then."

People are whispering; they've noticed the scene playing out. Some are already getting their phones out to record, hoping for a fight. Others are taking a step back. They whisper your roommate's name like it's a curse. It reaches your creepy classmate even through his drunken stupor.

"S-shit." He raises his hands in surrender. "Listen man, I didn't know she's with you. I swear. I'll go, alright? Just forget about it."

Personally unsure why he switched up so quickly when he was doing a fine enough job pretending Sukuna's height itself wasn't pissy pants-inducing, you don't dare say a word that might bring his attention back to you. Instead, you huddle a little closer to your roommate, who doesn't shake you off when you pinch his shirt for comfort. Just like that, the guy that's been bothering you for weeks fades in the background, never to be seen again. Hopefully.

You sigh. “Thanks, Sukuna.”

He grunts. He’s about to leave, to go back to minding his own business and pretending he doesn’t know you, but then, as if he can’t really help it and he hates himself for it, he eyes you up and down. In that moment, whatever he sees, whatever assessment he makes of your appearance, contrasted with the scene you two find yourself in, urges him to say something that almost sounds painful, so unnatural, so alien to him it brings a shit-eating grin to your face. 

“I’m bored with this place. Let’s go…” He winces, rolling his shoulder back. “Let’s go home.”

[reignpage]

❀ In which husband!Nanami's ass is not safe around you

Kento knows to eye his surroundings when he ascends the stairs – it’s almost second nature now to look behind him. He does it at work too. Once. Twice. He scans the environment as if somehow he’ll find himself in a compromising position. So used to his habits, his colleagues find themselves picking it up too, looking for him, for something they wouldn’t recognise even if it was right in their face. What happens when he’s not on guard?

You happen.

“Sweetheart…I need to sort the fresh laundry out. Please no funny business.” Smiling, you’re the picture perfect image of an angel but your husband knows better. With his hands full, he can’t do anything about the hand reaching out towards him nor can he fight against the harsh smack that you land upon his behind. Jolting and with the tips of his ears burning, he shakes his head and sighs. “I see your strength has improved. Well done.”

Even when he’s cooking he’s not safe around you. You’ll creep up behind him and dive your face between his cheeks, ignoring his gasp. Motorboating the mounds, you giggle, squeezing and groping like it’s a stress toy. “Hmm, your ass is bigger than mine, Kenny. I’m so jealous.”

Making no attempts to remove you, he continues doing as he does and wonders where in this marriage he went wrong, that you’d be more interested in talking to his bottom than to him. He could tell you no, could tell you not to disturb him when he’s making dinner, and that he’s not the fondest of your attention to it, but instead he says, “Your ass is plenty big, my love.”

No hug with you is innocent. At first, your arms are wrapped around his torso, enjoying the hard wall of muscles of his back as you bury your face between his pecs. Soon, however, he’ll notice those arms descending ever so slowly, as if he wouldn’t know, as if he can’t feel the scratch of your nails and the tingling they elicit on his skin. Your hands will eventually find themselves resting on top of his buttocks for warmth. It happens sometimes when you’re out. People point and laugh. Kento holds you tighter. 

It gets worse in bed. At night, when he’s climbing into bed shirtless and wearing only pyjama bottoms, you wait to strike. He knows the routine at this point. If he doesn’t pin you to his front and constrict you into the spooning position immediately, you’ll pounce and dig your teeth into the flesh. The red marks he sees in the mirror the next day are a reminder of your hidden prowess, of the kind of beast he married, of your ability to bring him to his knees and have your way,

And that in and of itself is most likely the reason why he focuses so much on building his glutes in the gym, why he fights through the aches of doing squats and lunges whilst carrying heavy weights, why he buys more and more of the pants you claim hug his lower half in a delectable way, and why he doesn’t bother dodging your attacks though he can see them from a mile away. 

After all, to Nanami Kento, a man isn’t someone who avoids their wife’s odd interest in a specific body part of his; it��s someone who ever so slightly juts it out to grab your attention and smiles in relief when he realises your interest hasn’t waned at all despite all the years you’ve been together. Having learnt the hard way, he’s become a firm believer that it is his husbandly duty to simply brace for impact and become an award-winning actor with his winces, grunts, and mutters of ‘ouch’ and ‘gentle hands, dear, please’ that you seem to take pleasure in hearing. 

He supposes, if he really had to reflect on the matter, a marriage is a balance: for every squeeze, grope, and bite you land on him, he does to you. Ten-fold, actually, not that you seem to realise or care…maybe that was your devious plan all along. It’s getting harder and harder to tell who has the upper hand in this relationship. 

Though, he suspects it’s you. 

It’s always been you. 

[sangunary]

- BatBoys × Civilian Reader.

SCENARIO: pecking them on the cheek after they saved you from danger.

- DICK GRAYSON.

Dick had ran inside the burning building after he realised that you were still inside, he discard all the training and ran for you.

He didn't have time to think the moment he heard your name his body move on its on, like he was chasing oxygen.

He was not going to lose someone he loves dearly again, this time he would protect you and be your boyfriend someday.

He had been secretly consuming videos on how to be the best boyfriend in the world and he haven't even got to try that. Bullshit, even if he had to fight death itself he will. No one is going to take you away this time... Not when he's still breathing.

When you peck him on the cheek he froze, the adrenaline rushing back in, his eyes wide shock and still holding your hands.

He just wanted to hold you in his arms and comfort himself and you but holding the edge of your fingers was the best he would do for now.

" That's not my lips tho "

he commented, managing to weild his brain back to the right direction but not without some complications.

" Huh? "

You looked at him confuse.

His hands still clinging onto yours desperately trying to remember the feeling of your hands on his.

" You accidentally kissed me on my cheek and not my lips "

Activity trying to gaslight you and himself.

What he wanted to say was ' Please just do me a favour and open the gate of heaven by kissing me already, I cannot go another day without your lips on mine... '.

How much he yearn to hold you and kiss you infront of everybody, kissing you so hard that he forgot his own name and could only remember the taste of your lips.

" Kiss me Alr- "

Before he could spill his desire Batman drag him away frowning and kept looking at you and Batman.

- Jason Todd.

He saved you from thief's and you kiss him on the cheek. He's in another planet the moment your lips touches his skin.

Goosebumps all over his body, an electric charge sent down his spine and his heart about to explode from the unexpected affection. God, what kind of grip did you had on him?

Hes utterly surprised in a good way, he didn't knew all it took was some expensive costume and doing the right thing.

Unfortunately for you he's hooked. His shoulder relaxing and his once prideful stance turns into one that reminds you of a puppy wishing for more pats.

The scene playing inside his head over and over dissecting everything into pieces. His face didn't turn that red just his whole posture and language did change tho.

Now, he demands kiss for everytime he did and not leaving until you gave him that kiss he was so addicted to.

" Where's my kiss? "

He asked, turning to look at you. His face plastered with that cunning smirk he had whenever he knew he won.

" Kiss? eh "

You look at him confuse, you were just standing there watching him do his heroic deed. Whereas, he suddenly turns with the most idiotic smile and demand a kiss.

" Yeah, my reward. For being a good hero "

Silence.

" You saved a kitten from the tree and you want a kiss? It's not even my kitten "

"... Contribute to society by motivating me through kisses"

He was serious, tho you trapped yourself in this case... Kissing him and thinking he won't take advantage of it. He's smart when it comes to his needs.

He cannot wait until he gets to actually collide his lips with yours... Maybe in the possible future he would get a kiss on the lips for every good deeds.

- Tim Drake.

He's confusion. Staring at you while holding onto the place where you kissed him, he couldn't tell if he was hallucinating because he was sleep deprived or you did kiss him.

His face flush red as his entire body turns warm, even tho it was during the middle of winter he couldn't feel anything else but warmth.

His ears were red as well, he totally forgot about the fact that there were gour people he had tied near the pole watching in silence.

" I- Why would you do that? "

He didn't mean to sound so mad or upset, infact his brain had probably melted by the thought of you kissing him.

" Im not complaining just... I Didn't even have time to process that "

He could clearly hear ever time his heart was beating against his rips, his hands going stiff and extremely warm... Even his eyes were betraying him.

He began, not only didn't he had time to process the pleasure of your touch he did not have time to remember it, how was he supposed to deal with that?

Tho, Tim was the boss of trying to play cool and feeling cool but in reality he's a blushing mess with a smile that scream 'im a pathetic loser inlove'.

" Do you want me to kiss you again? "

You asked, and Tim was over the moon with such opportunity handed to him on a random Tuesday night.

" Yeah, let's do that again... I'll be ready this time "

He might try to make you kiss him again by creating some excuses only he could think of.

- Damian Wayne.

He's happy and not at the same time. His mind is racing itself to see which one will make him restless.

He should be happy that you were so willing to kiss him on the cheek but you kissed him without knowing who he was under that domino!

You didn't kiss him as Damian Wayne, you kissed him as Robin... Batman blood son.

Now there was two thing keeping him sane and insane, one the precious kiss you had given me to him and the fact that you kissed him without knowing it's him...

Should he focus on the positive and be delusional like his older brother...No, he's full of questions and you'll hear them all.

And the fact that you kissed him so easily for just stopping someone for stealing from you? He's going to lecture you as Damian Wayne.

Well, he did like about the fact that you smelled like perfection and your soft lips pressed on his cheek with the cutest smile.

This felt like a shoujo manga, but if his institution is correct the guy would grab the girl by her face (gently) and roughly or gently kissed her infront of everybody.

Tho he's still not happy with you for kissing him for being a decent human being... Your standard are low.

" You're ridiculous for kissing me without any reason "

He fold his arms, the redness in his ears still visible. He doesnt like the way his heart was pounding at him to stop being delusional. Maybe he was consuming too much manga.

" You do realise not everyone should be kissed because they save you "

Yes, tho you should kiss Damian Wayne Instead of Robin... That way he would be able to smile about it in the dark.

" If I see you kissing random I wil- "

You hurried away before Damian could start teaching you on what he will and will not tolerate.

You should only kiss him and he is the only one privilege enough to call your lips his... He's definitely going to lecture you nonstop for kissing people as a gratitude.

He absolutely love's the kiss but he hate that you won't kiss him as Damian Wayne...

- Half asleep and do not know what i wrote I'll fix em tomorrow.

[jupiterswasphouse]

Not certain if this has already been posted about here, but iNaturalist recently uploaded a blog post stating that they had received a grant from Google to incorporate new forms of generative AI into their 'computer vision' model.

I'm sure I don't need to tell most of you why this is a horrible idea, that does away with much of the trust gained by the thus far great service that is iNaturalist. But, to elaborate on my point, to collaborate with Google on tools such as these is a slap in the face to much of the userbase, including a multitude of biological experts and conservationists across the globe.

They claim that they will work hard to make sure that the identification information provided by the AI tools is of the highest quality, which I do not entirely doubt from this team. I would hope that there is a thorough vetting process in place for this information (Though, if you need people to vet the information, what's the point of the generative AI over a simple wiki of identification criteria). Nonetheless, if you've seen Google's (or any other tech company's) work in this field in the past, which you likely have, you will know that these tools are not ready to explain the nuances of species identification, as they continue to provide heavy amounts of complete misinformation on a daily basis. Users may be able to provide feedback, but should a casual user look to the AI for an explanation, many would not realize if what they are being told is wrong.

Furthermore, while the data is not entirely my concern, as the service has been using our data for years to train its 'computer vision' model into what it is today, and they claim to have ways to credit people in place, it does make it quite concerning that Google is involved in this deal. I can't say for certain that they will do anything more with the data given, but Google has proven time and again to be highly untrustworthy as a company.

Though, that is something I'm less concerned by than I am by the fact that a non-profit so dedicated to the biodiversity of the earth and the naturalists on it would even dare lock in a deal of this nature. Not only making a deal to create yet another shoehorned misinformation machine, that which has been proven to use more unclean energy and water (among other things) than it's worth for each unsatisfactory and untrustworthy search answer, but doing so with one of the greediest companies on the face of the earth, a beacon of smog shining in colors antithetical to the iNaturalist mission statement. It's a disgrace.

In conclusion, I want to believe in the good of iNaturalist. The point stands, though, that to do this is a step in the worst possible direction. Especially when they, for all intents and purposes, already had a system that works! With their 'computer vision' model providing basic suggestions (if not always accurate in and of itself), and user suggested IDs providing further details and corrections where needed.

If you're an iNaturalist user who stands in opposition to this decision, leave a comment on this blog post, and maybe we can get this overturned.

[Note: Yes, I am aware there is good AI used in science, this is generative AI, which is a different thing entirely. Also, if you come onto this post with strawmen or irrelevant edge-cases I will wring your neck.]

[cosm0-not]

A peaceful day ~ ✨

[tobiosbbyghorl]

sweat it out | psh 🔞

Pairing: Frat Gym Rat Boy!Park Sunghoon × Sunshine Pilates Girl!Reader

-What starts as a workout quickly spirals into teasing touches, dirty whispers, and a steamy, semi-public hookup in the showers where he wrecks you like it’s leg day. Sunghoon shows you exactly why you should never skip gym day with him again.

You had no idea why you agreed to this.

Your gym-rat boyfriend, Park Sunghoon—sleeveless tank top stretched tight across his chest, backwards cap shading his sharp eyes, and gray sweats hanging dangerously low, just barely covering the outline of his thick, hard cock—was strutting around the gym like he owned the place. And honestly, he kind of did. This was his kingdom. The frat boys high-fived him like a god. Trainers stopped mid-conversation to nod respectfully. Even the protein shake girl at the counter gave you a weirdly respectful nod when you said you were with him. Like you were special just by association.

You? You were a Pilates girl. Sunshine and soft, graceful and delicate. You did your precise stretches and controlled breathing while he crushed deadlifts and bench presses like it was nothing.

So why exactly were you here?

At first, Sunghoon didn’t notice your attention straying.

He went through his usual sets: curls, presses, rows—his muscles flexing and bulging under tight fabric, veins pulsing with every controlled movement. He grunted and exhaled, focused and intense.

You pretended to be interested in the machine next to him, but really, your eyes kept flickering to the way his biceps rolled when he lifted. The sharp cut of his delts. The thick, veiny forearms that looked like they could snap a steel bar.

You bit your lip and swallowed hard. You weren’t used to feeling like this. Normally, your Pilates classes left you feeling strong but serene. Here, you were hot, bothered, your panties soaked from just watching him work.

When he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and turned, you almost dropped your water bottle.

He caught you mid-stare and cocked an eyebrow.

“Oh?” He teased, a slow, cocky grin spreading across his face. “You been staring at these all workout?”

He flexed one bicep, making the muscle bulge impressively.

“Shut up,” you said, cheeks burning.

“Mm-hmm.” He walked over, towering over you. “Can’t blame you. I’m kinda ridiculous.”

Your breath hitched as he stood right behind you and whispered in your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin.

“You’re so distracted, babe,” he murmured. “Can’t even focus on your damn workout.”

You swallowed hard. “Maybe a little.”

His hands slid down to your waist, strong and sure, fingers pressing firmly as he adjusted your posture.

“Chest up,” he ordered, voice low and rough. His hands cupped your ribs, pushing you to arch your back properly. “Core tight.”

You tried to steady your breathing, but the heat pooling between your legs made it impossible.

He bent closer, lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “Getting wet for me with all these assholes around, huh?”

You gasped softly, surprised at how dirty his tone made you feel.

“Shh,” he said, pressing a finger to your lips. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you’re like this.”

⸻

By now, you were shaking. Not from the workout, but from the way his hands lingered, fingers trailing from your hips down to the curve of your ass.

His breath was hot on your neck. You could feel his cock pressing insistently against your thigh.

“Come on, princess,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Let’s get you cleaned up before you start making a scene.”

The moment the shower door clicked shut behind you, Sunghoon’s lips were already on yours—urgent, hungry, possessive. The air inside the gym’s shower stalls was thick with steam, but his presence alone burned hotter than any heat setting.

He pushed you against the cool, tiled wall with his body pressed tight, kissing you like he hadn’t seen you in days when it had barely been hours. His hands were everywhere—fisting your damp top, sliding down to your ass, squeezing rough and greedy.

And then, you heard it.

The water running in the stall next to yours. Someone else was still in here.

You pulled back slightly, breathless. “Someone’s still—”

“I don’t give a fuck.” Sunghoon’s voice was low, almost a growl against your ear. “Let them hear how good I fuck you.”

Your eyes widened, but your body answered first—pulsing, already so wet from earlier that you were certain the slick between your thighs wasn’t just from the steam.

“You were eye-fucking me all damn workout,” he whispered as he tugged your sports bra up, exposing your tits to the hot water and his mouth. “Looking at my arms like you wanted to ride them.”

He dropped to his knees.

Just like that. Right there on the slick tile, lifting your leg over his shoulder and diving in.

His tongue was ravenous. You slapped a hand to the wall for balance, the other tangling in his soaked hair as he devoured your pussy like it was his post-workout protein.

“Fuck—Sunghoon—”

“You love this, don’t you?” he mumbled between licks. “My face buried in this perfect cunt. Letting me eat you with someone right next door.”

He spit on your clit and slurped it back in, sucking harshly while his fingers pumped into you—fast, unrelenting. Your thighs trembled over his shoulder.

“You gonna cum for me already, sweetheart?” he teased. “Haven’t even gotten to the main course.”

But you were too far gone to answer.

You came with a stifled cry, choking it back as your legs shook, back arching against the tile. Sunghoon licked you through it, slow and messy, like he had nowhere else to be.

“You’re shaking already, sunshine. Didn’t even stretch yet.” His tongue curled around your clit, fast and rough, before he pulled back and stood.

Now it was his turn.

“Get on your knees,” he said, voice full of heat.

You dropped, water hitting your back, and reached for the waistband of his soaked gray sweats.

When you pulled them down, his cock sprang free—thick, veiny, hard and flushed. You licked your lips without thinking.

“You’re so fucking big,” you whispered, wrapping your hand around the base. “I can’t believe you fit inside me.”

He hissed at your touch, leaning back against the tile.

“Show me that pretty mouth, princess.”

You obeyed instantly, sliding your tongue over the tip, gathering his precum, before taking him deep into your throat. He groaned low, hand tangling in your wet hair as he pushed deeper.

“Fuck—that mouth. You were made for this.”

Your nose pressed against his abs as you swallowed him down, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, spit dribbling down your chin. He watched you hungrily.

“Messy little thing,” he muttered, pulling back slightly only to thrust again into your mouth. “Look at you—taking this fat cock like a good girl.”

After a few minutes of steady, wet slurping sounds and his low groans, you pulled off with a gasp, saliva and precum stretching from your lips to his cock.

“Please,” you whined. “I want you inside me.”

He hauled you up in one swift move and spun you around, bending you over slightly so the water poured over your back.

You felt the blunt head of his cock tease your entrance.

“Still so tight,” he murmured, rubbing himself through your folds. “Every time I fuck you, it’s like the first time. Like your pussy was made for me.”

He slid in slowly, inch by thick inch, stretching you open until your walls clenched around him desperately.

“F-fuck, Sunghoon—it’s so deep—”

He groaned at the way you whimpered under him. “You feel that, baby? That stretch? This cock splitting you open?”

He snapped his hips once, hard and deep. Your moan echoed through the tile, and just as it did, the next stall’s shower shut off.

You stilled, wide-eyed, but Sunghoon only grinned against your neck.

“Let them hear you,” he growled. “Let them hear how good your sweet little pussy sounds when I’m inside you.”

He began pounding into you relentlessly, skin slapping wet against skin, fingers digging into your hips.

Then—without warning—he grabbed your arm, pulling you upright. One hand slid around your neck and tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to make your breath catch and your cunt clench.

You whimpered under his hold, completely at his mercy.

“This okay?” he whispered in your ear, still thrusting into you from behind.

“Y-yes,” you breathed. “Please don’t stop.”

He spat on your shoulder, let it drip down your chest, then fucked you harder.

“Fucking flexible little thing,” he growled, reaching down to lift your leg—stretching it over his arm as he changed the angle and hit deeper. “You do all that Pilates just so I can ruin this pretty body, huh?”

You were trembling, on the edge, sobbing his name.

“Can’t even think, can you?” he teased. “Just drooling for cock.”

He spun you again, slamming you back into the tile and hoisting you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He drove into you with renewed force, water spraying behind him, muscles flexing, face tight with restraint.

Your lips crashed together again, spit and moans and breath mixing like fire.

“I’m so close,” you sobbed.

“Cum on this cock, baby. Fucking soak me.”

You shattered with a cry, clenching around him as your orgasm ripped through you.

“Gonna cum inside this sweet pussy,” he growled. “Gonna fill you so full you’ll drip down your thighs for the rest of the day.”

Sunghoon’s pace stuttered as he buried himself one last time, groaning deep in your neck as he filled you up with hot, thick spurts.

The world was spinning.

Water poured over your twitching body, and Sunghoon held you through the aftershocks, forehead resting on yours.

⸻

He set you down gently, brushing your soaked hair from your face, eyes soft.

“Still think I’m just a dumb gym rat?” he teased, breathless.

You grinned, body sore in the best way. “A dumb gym rat who ruined my legs for Pilates tomorrow.”

He kissed you sweetly. “Guess I’ll just have to carry you to class.”

permanent taglist: @ijustwannareadstuff20 @hoonielvv @rjssierjrie @firstclassjaylee e @morganaawriterr @rikifever @daisyintherainsposts @kkamismom12 @pocketzlocket @semi-wife @soona-huh

tobiosbbyhorl - 2025

[twilightofthesandwiches]

The interesting thing is…. from the glimpses of SOUL-less Kris we saw in Chapter 1 + 2, it was notable how…. strangely they seemed to move. We saw them walking with a sort of zombie-like gait that maybe implied they weren’t in full control of their body still, or maybe just that they were in immense pain.

It led to a lot of people speculating that Kris does need a SOUL to some level. Maybe the SOUL is Kris’ but we’re a foreign entity that has taken it over, or that Kris’ original actual SOUL has been removed and replaced with us. If Kris needed the SOUL to live, that would explain their slow, deliberate movements and also why they keep putting us back inside despite clearly hating being under our control.

So now, with Chapter 4 giving us a much better glimpse of SOUL-less Kris doing stuff… it’s notable that they seem… fully capable of moving ‘normally’. Angrily, but normally.

Even when they do the whole Creepy Zombie Walk thing they are notably faster than they seemed to be in Chapters 1 + 2

They can do things that require fine motor skills, focus and swiftness like playing the piano, handling glasses, and beating the shit out of us with a hockey stick and it's all animated as smoothly as most other Deltarune Animations. Not really implying effort or stiffness the way that original Creepy Zombie Walk animation did.

And while Susie only gets a brief moment to interact with SOUL-less Kris in the Normal Route

Noelle has prolonged interactions with them in the Weird Route (both on-screen in Chapter 4 and off-screen in-between Chapters 2 and 3) and... while she does note that they sounded 'weak and shaky' and obviously their behavior seems weird on account of the whole 'traumatized by the Unkillable Evil Time-Demon only they can see" thing

... There's nothing to really indicate that there's anything outright unnatural or 'zombie-like' about the way Kris moves and interacts with her while SOUL-less. Since this is the Weird Route, Noelle even note this is the most natural and Kris-like they've acted in the last few days.... until we take over again.

And now we know they can go without the SOUL for a fairly prolonged period of time. The Ominous Phone Voice of Probably Carol does tells them they need the SOUL, it seems unclear why.

So… what that means for SOUL-less Kris’ behavior before? It’s possible that even if Kris can operate without a SOUL, it still hurts like hell. So right after tearing out the SOUL they are in Maximum Pain and it's hard to ignore, causing them to move in a struggling and slow manner. But the more they go without it, they kinda get used to it and the pain fades into the background - allowing them to do stuff more-or-less normally.

(Basically Kris has Chronic Pain but the only Painkiller that works for them is Demonic Possession)

…Or, knowing Kris, maybe this… was all an act. They were only behaving like This because they knew we were watching. It is pretty notable that they walk around normally in the Holidays' Kitchen while we're eavesdropping on them and only swap to the Creepy Walk Animation once they notice us....

Maybe this is an act, either to make us underestimate the things Kris could do SOUL-less… or because they’re a little teen Edgelord so they just enjoy playing up the whole Soulless Zombie thing when they have a chance.

[jobean12-blog]

Just My Type

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: Bucky can’t imagine that he’s your type

Author’s Note: Bucky’s the perfect type of guy and no one can convince me otherwise (I’m sure you all agree :) thank you all so much for reading! Much love always🩷🩷🩷Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy🥰

Warnings: some fun, flirting, lots of fluff, bob’s a great wingman🤭

“What’re thinkin’ about?”

“Huh?” Bucky drags his eyes away from you and turns toward Bob.

“You seem deep in thought. What’s on your mind?” Bob asks.

“Nothin’ really,” Bucky answers, giving him a half-hearted smile.

“Nah, come on. You can tell me,” Bob says gently.

“What do you think she sees in guys like that?” Bucky asks, his eyes once again trained on you.

Bob follows his line of sight and purses his lips. “Nothing. She doesn’t look interested at all.”

Bucky scoffs and takes a slow sip of his beer. “That guy looks interested.”

“Obviously,” Bob says. “Who wouldn’t be.”

Bucky shifts his eyes to Bob and Bob immediately holds up his hands defensively. “I’m just saying. I get it.”

The metal plates in Bucky’s arm shift and whir under the leather of his jacket and he spins the beer bottle between his fingers as he thinks. “I don’t stand a chance.”

“What was that?” Bob asks, leaning forward.

Bucky just shakes his head, sighing and slumping over his beer.

“Why don’t you just ask her?”

“Ask her what? Bucky says.

“What she sees in them? Bob shoots back. “That’s the only way to find out.”

“Yeah, well….” Bucky can’t finish his sentence because you start to head their way.

“Now’s your chance,” Bob whispers before he smiles at you.

“What are you guys up to over here?” you ask when you stop in front of Bucky.

“Nothin’,” Bucky smiles at the same time Bob starts to say, “Bucky was just wondering what you see in those guys.”

Bucky shoots Bob a death glare.

“What guys?” you ask, your eyes on Bucky.

“Like the one you were talking to by the dart game,” Bob clarifies.

“Not my type at all,” you answer.

“Told ya so,” Bob says with a light elbow in Bucky’s shoulder.

“Well not your type is headed our way,” Bucky grumbles as he straightens his shoulders.

You turn to catch the guy that was chatting you up at darts heading your way.

“He just can’t take a hint,” you say under your breath.

“Hey, there you are,” the guy says as he slides up next to you. “I thought you were getting another drink.”

“I’m going to,” you start, “but I wanted to see my…”

Before you can finish the sentence, Bob chimes in and says, “boyfriend.”

“Who? You?” the guy says, pointing to Bob.

Bob starts to shake his head no and then Bucky stands and slides his arm around your waist, tucking you against his side and saying, “no. Me.”

Bob chuckles from behind you but quickly stifles it when Bucky narrows his eyes.

“You didn’t say you had a boyfriend,” the guy frowns.

“Well. I do,” you say as you rest your head on Bucky’s chest.

“I wouldn’t have spent so much time chatting you up if I didn’t think I had a chance of getting some,” the guy scoffs.

Your mouth falls open and you feel Bucky tense next to you. Even Bob slides around front and stands at your other side.

“Now that wasn’t the right thing to say,” Bucky grits out, his tone hard.

You turn your face up to Bucky and smile. “Now do you see why I’m not interested.”

Bucky smiles back and let’s his hand slide over the curve of your hip. “Yeah doll, I think I get it.”

The guy from darts just stands there, looking between the three of you.

“That was your cue to leave,” Bucky growls. “Unless you need me to make you…”

The guy throws his hands up in surrender and backs away, quickly turning on his heel before disappearing near the bathrooms.

“He was going on and on about his big tricked out truck outside,” you say, emphasizing the words “ big and tricked out,” with sarcasm and a roll of your eyes. “Too bad he didn’t get a look at your bike.”

You grin at Bucky when you say it and see his eyes light up.

“I’ll take you for a ride anytime you want doll face.”

“I could get used to this boyfriend thing,” you murmur, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

“I think he’d like that.”

If your eyes weren’t already focused on Bucky’s lips you would have sworn he said the words. But his lips never moved, and it takes you a second to remember that Bob is still standing next to you.

You whip your head Bob’s way, and he smiles brightly and nods. Your head falls into Bucky’s chest, and you start to shake with laughter.

“What?” Bob asks with his eyebrows drawn in.

Bucky’s mouth lifts into a sideways grin. “Where’s Yelena?”

Bob’s eyes scan the room, and he finds her standing by the dart game with a knife poised between her fingers.

“About to play darts with her knife,” Bob says as if it’s nothing.

“Why don’t you go play with her,” Bucky says.

“I’ll never win,” Bob retorts.

You look over at Yelena and catch her eye, subtly conveying through the unspoken girl bond that you want her to get rid of Bob for you.

She naturally gets the idea and waves at Bob, motioning for him to come join her.

“See,” Bucky says, somewhat shocked but then looking down at you and giving you a knowing smile. “She wants you to play.”

Bob smiles and says goodbye as he rushes off to join her.

“I’d kick both their asses,” Bucky says.

“Of course you would Buck,” you reply and pat his chest.

“Thanks for saving me before,” you tell him, turning in his hold and wrapping your arms around his neck.

You give him a hug and then a soft kiss near the corner of his mouth. “I would never have gone home with that guy.”

Bucky’s quiet for a moment, still savoring the feel of your lips on his skin.

“So then…what’s your type?” he asks.

“Hm. Well…,” you start. “I prefer darker features…dark hair.”

You run your fingers lightly through the hair at the back of his neck. “And I love facial hair.”

Your fingertips trace the line of his jaw, gently scratching through his scruff. “Especially when there’s these little patches of gray.”

He sucks in a small breath, his eyelashes fluttering and the tops of his cheeks turning a light pink.

“Beautiful eyes…”

You hold his stare. “Especially framed by long dark lashes I wish I had.” You follow that statement with a little laugh.

“Your eyelashes are perfect,” he whispers, and you smile.

“But the most important thing is that he has a good heart.”

You follow those words with the flat press of your palm to his chest, right over the rapid thumping of his heart.

He closes his hand around yours, squeezing lightly as he tugs you closer and dips his head.

“Anything else?” he asks.

“A good kisser would be a big plus.”

“I think I can handle that,” he says, his warm breath fanning your lips.

He releases your hand, sliding it down along your arm to your back where his fingers splay and he gently brings you closer. The first contact is just a brush of his lips over yours, the briefest sweep.

You’re already sure it’s going to be the best kiss of your life and when you hear the quietest moan escape his throat he leans in again, pressing his soft, strong mouth to yours and taking your top lip between his, sucking gently, before he turns his attention to your bottom one.

With a smile forming against the kiss, he tilts his head and slides his hand at your back higher, cupping the nape of your neck and taking you with a heat you couldn’t have predicted but makes you feel like you’re free falling backward into the clouds.

His other hand smooths over the curve of your waist and up to rest warmly on your cheek, his thumb caressing your soft skin while he kisses you senseless.

Everything is quiet before you hear cheers from the back of the bar and he slowly releases you, pressing his lips to yours softly again and again before he pulls back.

“Bucky Barnes,” you whisper as you bury your face in his neck. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Yelena and Bob continue to clap, and he takes your chin between his fingers, bringing your eyes back to his.

“Nah doll. Just hoping that kiss was good enough to snag me a date.”

“A date? After that kiss I’ll marry you.”

“Even better,” he winks before his lips meet yours again.

[kkoffin]

Men's porn-watching history should be shown to the jury during rape/SA/CSA trials. If that seems unfair to you then you've got some thinking to do.

While we're at it, female jury members which are discharged by the defence should only be able to be replaced with other women. There's nothing unjust about that. Yall have no idea how many rape trials end up being done with only 1-3/12 female jury members because defence has i think 8(?) opportunities to discharge a jury member without explanation, and in MANY rape trials they'll just. Keep discharging women until there's as few left as possible.

We sit around wondering why so few women go to police after being raped and why so few rapists are convicted? Its not (just) because "omg but its sooo hard to prove!!" its because the supposed "representations of the general public" are selected to be mainly young, often tradie men. Yall have no idea how many cases I've witnessed of rapists literally confessing, either in a recorded call or to a psychiatrist, thinking it was confidential, or some other way, and said confession is played in court and STILL they're found not guilty. That's not a fucking coincidence, it's a feature of the system.

[aingeal98]

Every modern jaybin writer takes on the sisyphean task to prove that Bruce and Alfred are correct when they say Jason got himself killed and yet every time they fail because no matter how hard they try, they can't make the kid more responsible than the adults. "Jason was reckless and angry and had a darkness in him." Damn so you sent him out every night to face violent adults and then talked shit about him behind his back? For years? What a nasty pair of assholes, why would they treat a child that way if he was so blatantly Not Well.

Like it just doesn't work! It has never worked! But they're going to keep trying to push the victim blaming narrative anyways and it's going to keep shooting them in the foot and making Bruce and Alfred look terrible.

[patchwork-crow-writes]

As much as I'm not feeling particularly charitable towards the character of Carol Holiday, I think there are some interesting insights to glean into her character from before she got twisted up into... this.

I think she must have been quite charming, in her way, at one point. Rudy certainly saw something in her, after all, and their family was very close with the Dreemurrs. I wonder that December's rebelliousness was at least tolerated, if not wholly condoned, especially since her bedroom remains untouched since her disappearance.

And, perhaps it's strange to consider, but I think Carol and Kris must have been very close too, to the point where she'd be like an aunt to them. Why do I think this? Consider her fascination with blades - the katana she hangs over the kitchen stovetop, the bronze-cast snowflakes adorning the walls of her house. I think that she might have appreciated the craftsmanship and aesthetics of such things, saw a beauty in them, perhaps. And suddenly it doesn't become so hard to see where Kris might have gotten their fascination with knives from.

And, that's interesting, isn't it. The name "Kris". Short for Krismas, potentially, but also... the name of a ceremonial dagger from Indonesia. I wonder if Carol may have had a hand in naming them when the Dreemurs adopted them. I wonder if she saw potential in them, and wanted to nurture it, bring out the best in them.

Before all this... unpleasantness. Before it all got twisted out of control. Now Carol wields the blade with an iron grip... the formerly beloved Dreemur child reduced to their namesake, a knife with which she may perform an unholy ritual.

You don't consider a knife's feelings when using it for such a purpose. The knife cuts, the knife swings, as all good knives are supposed to. The Knife does what its wielder tells it to do. The Knife cannot refuse. The Knife cannot be anything other than what it is. The Knife will be wielded, and it will be used up, and it will be discarded.

I wonder if Carol Holiday can be pulled back from the brink before that happens.

[nightingale-prompts]

Dying to Love- DCXDP

Dating is hard. And Danny has bad at tough go at it.

"She called me creepy." Danny sighed into his coffee cup.

"What? You're not creepy." Tim reassured.

This has been an ongoing thing. Every time one of Danny's dates canceled, rejected, or ghosted him he ended up pouring out his sorrows with Tim.

"Well, who wants to date a funeral director?" Danny gripes.

It was kind of hard to explain how they met. The Waynes wanted to move a headstone for their no longer dead son/brother. Danny had to oversee the process that day and thankfully they didn't need to dig up remains.

Danny didn't know why Tim wanted to be his friend but who was he to complain when he didn't know anyone in this city. No one had any reason to talk to him since he was always working. Constantine came in on occasion at least. The Bats did as well.

And Danny? He keeps to his own. What humans do is on them. The ghosts are enough of a handful. Yeah, it was cold but so was he. The mortuary was comfortable, and he liked this life.

Yes, it was emotional. How do you tell a family that their newborn who died of SIDS needed to be held for a few hours before they were ready for burial? Or that grandma was mad they didn't cremate her like she wanted?

The ghosts weren't always there. Most of the time he was alone. It was rare that one lingered around the body or didn't pass on immediately. It just meant that death let them slide for a while. She was unpredictable like that. That's how he got here.

It's a lonely life though.

Did he just want friends? Well sure. So he somehow became friends with Tim Drake. Easy. Okay not easy, he and Tim just had common interests like true crime. They both could talk for hours on that alone.

But that's not the same as dating and he wanted to have a relationship. So he went on a few dating apps and had a few meet-cutes. But they never last.

"Danny, you aren't creepy." Tim lied. "You love what you do and someone will understand."

"Tim, even my coworkers don't want to talk to me." Danny sobbed.

"Well, male morticians have a bad rep. They might not know you well yet. Give it some time."

Tim knew very well that Danny was creepy. Danny had a habit of talking way too much about his job. Not everyone finds embalming and cutting open bodies fascinating. But he'd never tell Danny to stop.

"I actually invited my last date over and she ran the moment she came in."

"She must be uncomfortable going to guys' places. That's normal."

Tim knew why that happened. Danny collected occult and haunted items. He would make displays of death masks, haunted dolls, animal and human bones. Danny does tarot readings for himself every morning. It's not normal behavior. It's actually the reason Tim started talking to him. He had suspicions that Danny might be a serial killer. He wasn't, he just had hobbies.

Tim was an enabler on all this. He thought about pointing Danny in the direction of some edgy types or those into witchcraft. But if he did that then Danny would be dating someone else.

Tim was good but he wasn't a saint. So everything Danny fumbles with a potential partner he stands by to pick up the pieces. Call him what you want, it's not like he was sabotaging his friend. He just didn't want him dating other people. And honestly, if someone doesn't like his interest then why aren't worth Danny's time.

"Hey, do you I know Red Robin's number?" Danny asked suddenly.

"Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. I think if I were with someone used to this for of thing it would be easier. Also, he's the good-looking Robin."

Tim 100% filed that away as a gloat over Dick.

That being said, if he did give out that number would that further the manipulative asshole title that he probably already earned. He was nothing if not smart enough to be self-aware.

[madamechrissy]

goodnight n go

pairings- Satoru x Suguru x F!reader

warnings- Gojo and Geto kissing bc YES, they kinda like it but they'll deny it lmaoo, them both eating you out, fingering, blow jobs, cum swallowing, mentions of masturbation, they're being all bratty and competitive, explicit sex, them being greedy with you, SatoSugu but they love your coochie so much you're special </3 - WC 3k

This is for my baby @baepsays who got thrown in TUMBLR JAIL grr for no reason!!! It's based on the Challengers movie, specifically that hotel scene hehe <3

"So... are you two like... together?" you ask the two men sitting right in front of you, both wearing open kimonos that show far too much of their chiseled muscles. Satoru wears a deep blue, Suguru a pretty bright red, you have to keep your eyes from trailing down each of their bodies and act normal. You sip on a beer right with them, sitting on the old hotel carpet in the late hours of the night.

The ac has gone on the fritz, so the windows are wide open, blowing the still humid air into the room, as the two of them avidly watch you, they'd been staring at you for the entire game, the entire after party, clearly both enamored with you. The way you curve that ball had them both hard in the stands.

It was Suguru who mentioned it first, how sexy you were, hyping you all up - Satoru knew who you were by name, but never saw you - he was helplessly in love with himself and being the best. So when he did see you step out in that little tennis skirt, and see the way your pretty body looked in it, especially your ass and how it bounced underneath it? He was already hooked.

But nothing took them out more than how you played, how you danced around the court and fucking annihilated everyone. Satoru and Suguru were two of the top tennis players themselves, but they'd be lying if you didn't say you were better than them both.

Tennis is all you know, there was no dating or doing anything for you, it was all tennis all the time. Even just being here was on a whim, but how could you turn down their invitation?

Suguru's holding a blunt, passing it over to Satoru, the smoke lingering in the air, you smell its sweetness while he wraps his plump lips around it, both men glaring at your question as you giggle. You can't help but ask it, it's the notorious rumor of these two.

"Together?" Suguru blows the smoke up, leaned back on a pillow he'd snatched up from the bed, looking far too good as he eyes you, lidded gaze slipping up your bare thighs. "Why do you ask that?"

"Everyone thinks you two are," you take the blunt from Satoru's long fingers, looking at the two men carefully. "I think you two would be cute together."

"We're not together, why do people think that?" Satoru frowns, and Suguru chuckles, shoving at him. He rolls his eyes, and you pass Suguru the blunt, as you and Satoru go to sip your drinks. You feel a gentle cool breeze blow in for just a moment, tickling your skin as Satoru now runs his fingers across your ankle, the motion making you tense. It feels too good.

"You've never been together? No kissing, nothing?"

"Never!? well..." Satoru trails off, and Suguru smirks.

"Spill!" You're eagerly on your knees now, strap slipping off your shoulder, Suguru leans up to fix it, watching your nipples perk up under your tank at the action.

"You're bratty," Satoru murmurs, fingers running up your calf, leaving. goosebumps on your skin, Suguru inhales the blunt again, blowing it into your mouth now. At the contact of his lips you tremble, inhaling that smoke deep in your lungs, feeling lightheaded, tummy clenching at how good his lips feel.

"Tell me about the time you almost did something then," you tease, while Suguru brushes a thumb over your lower lip. They are both chuckling softly, Satoru is rubbing the back of his neck. "Did you all jerk each other off?"

"You're a freaky brat." Satoru says, glaring so cute at you.

"We didn't do that, but I did teach Satoru how to jerk his-"

"Suguru!" He shoves Suguru now, but you're all wide eyed with attention. "Shut up!"

"What, you didn't know how to." Satoru scoffs, shaking his head.

"Wait that's cute!" You are laughing so hard you're holding your tummy now, as the two pretty boys tell different sides of the same story.

"I was thinking about my girlfriend and started..." Suguru trails off, Satoru's blushing. "Well I thought he was asleep."

"Well I was you were loud," Satoru leans forward now, pressing a little kiss against your neck after brushing your hair back. "You really wanna hear about it?"

"It sounds so adorable." He rolls his pretty blue eyes.

"I asked him to tell me what he was doing, we were young. Then he just sort of told me - but under the blankets!"

"We didn't touch each other." Suguru confirms, snorting in laughter as you giggle at Satoru's embarrassed face burying against your neck now.

"Do you guys do that alot too?"

"Whatever no!" Satoru nips at your neck, making you tense at how good it feels. "We do cuddle."

"He cuddles me, I shove him off."

"The ship is going strong. I don't think I can stay here and ruin this, what would they say about me?" You stand up then, Suguru smirks as Satoru pouts, Satoru's cuteness and Suguru's prettiness are honestly a lot to handle.

"Don't leave us yet, we haven't even finished our drinks." Satoru watches as you brush his hair back, while he's on his knees, sighing a bit.

"All right then, as long as I don't ruin your love." They both scoff as you go to sit right on the edge of that bed, thighs pressing together - as much as you're kidding, you can't help but be excited by the two of them. You pat each side and they both jump next to you, earning your giggle. "Who do I kiss first..."

You look at Suguru, brushing his lips, he exhales and leans closer, but Satoru yanks you by your chin, slamming his lips on yours first. "She was gonna choose me."

"No way, mnh - cherry lip gloss." Satoru licks his lips as he pulls back, you're left breathless, Suguru is quick to kiss you after, his tongue slipping inside, dancing across your teeth, while their hands so huge take over your entire body slowly. Your breath comes quicker and quicker, trembling as they take over your senses.

You have just a bit of sweat dancing along your skin, they're lapping it up, Satoru kisses across one side of your neck, while Suguru kisses along the other. You gasp out, still so sore from the tennis game, their big hands grip each thigh and press in, as if massaging you, their breaths heavy and sensual against your ears.

"Do you all... do this a lot?" You murmur then, teasing as you look into Suguru’s violet eyes, while he slips his fingers higher. "Share girls?"

"Maybe a couple of times, but never with someone like you," he murmurs, while Satoru tilts your chin to him, bringing your gaze to his pouty lips.

"We can kick him out."

"We can kick him out." Suguru tilts your chin back over to him now, only making Satoru drag your thigh over his, opening your pussy wide for both of them to touch you.

"Mnh," your head leans back, the alcohol working through you, mixed with their addicting kisses along your neck, their fingers brushing against your pussy over your shorts. "Fuck..."

"You're so wet, need us to take care of you?" Satoru murmurs, pressing a kiss on your lips, only for Suguru to turn your head and kiss you brutally.

Suguru moans as his finger slip into your hole, while Satoru's roll along your clit, his tongue slipping up your neck as Suguru's is massaging the inside your mouth. You feel how wet you are, as the two of them making you a mess, which they seem to relish in, eyeing each other as they play you.

"So wet, wonder how you'll be when you cum? Squirt all over, or drip slowly?" Suguru's words fuck you up, where you felt in charge, when those dilated eyes hit you, you're trembling and gasping.

"Bet she's messy." Satoru murmurs those words hot and heavy against your skin, his free hand gripping your breast and squishing it.

Suguru's thick finger stretches you out, when Satoru kisses you again, tongue delving into your mouth a little more desperate. You hear his whimper when you touch his toned abdomen, slipping down, before touching Suguru's ribcage now, feeling how hot his skin is under your touch. Husky moans and little whimpers dance along your skin as you touch them.

You kiss Suguru again, then can't help but bring them together, bit by bit, kissing them quicker and quicker, until you drag their faces ever closer. They lose themselves in you, your cunt squelching loudly with how wet it is, you're throbbing around Suguru’s finger as your clit twitches against Satoru's, pressure building in your tummy. You're shifting your hips, arching for more as the wind blows gently against your overheated bodies.

You all three kiss then, together, with each tongue dance along each side of yours, as the three of you exhale and gasp, hands entangled now in your hair, you can't tell who's pulling it from each direction. That's when their own tongues meet, all while their skilled fingers are playing with your slutty, messy cunt, and you're losing yourself in them. One hand in silky black locks so long, the other carding through silly white hair.

You pull back just a bit curious, as you truly think these men must be together, everything about them screams it. Satoru and Suguru kiss each other in front of you, your heart races at the sight, of Suguru and Satoru moaning and still touching you, unrealized with their closed eyes that you've pulled back, smiling as you watch them.

"Okay I should.. go." You say after a long few moments when they blink and pull apart, a trail of saliva dripping between them, before they're scowling at each other, then at you as you giggle. "I can't break up a happy marriage." You say with a pout, getting up and tugging off their hands.

"You're a brat," Suguru huffs, pressing you down on the springy hotel bed then, Satoru kneels and slips your shorts down, while Suguru slips up your top, his lips dancing across each breast. "We aren't together."

"I don't know, I thought it was pretty hot." They both glare at you, Satoru sinks his teeth in your inner thigh, blue eyes vivid in their brightness. "I ship you two even more now."

"I like to eat pussy thank you very much," Gojo presses a kiss to your slick cunt then, making you whine out. "and I'm the best at it."

"That would be me," Suguru is down there too now, both men gripping a thigh, scowling at each other again, they're way too fucking hot and simultaneously cute. "Time we shut you up."

"Past time," Satoru licks a stripe up your slit while Suguru slips two fingers in your hole, you moan at it, at him pumping in and out while Satoru holds your hood up. He swirls the tip of his tongue on your slit, moaning. "Fuck I wanna be inside you."

"She's so tight," Suguru pulls his fingers out then, sucking you right off them, cheeks hollowing while Satoru slips impossibly longer fingers so deep, curling when Suguru's tongue slips against your twitchy little clit. "Mnh."

"She's so sweet here." Satoru's licking you right with Suguru, together they're working you, their tongues touching as they make out with your clit together. You can't help but grip them tightly, thighs shaking on either side of their heads.

"Ah! there, there," your eyes roll back, lost in them, hips raised up for more of their touch, while there lips brush just slightly together while they share your taste.

"Stop kissing me," Satoru's words make you laugh, breathless, even as the orgasm is approaching even closer.

M'not, you're taking all of it." Suguru is burying his face so greedy, tongue slipping into your hole now, you're so close you feel yourself about to fall apart, back and hips arching for more of them.

"S-satoru... S-suguru..."

"Said my name first," he's grinning and nudging Suguru with his shoulder, earning an eye roll, before your eyes roll back again in your skull, both of their fingers inside you.

"Ah!" You're gripping the cheap material of those flowery hotel blankets, while they find spots inside you didn't know you had, fingers in sync while they watch you.

"So pretty," is what one of them whispers, but your pulse is racing in your ears as they curl up simultaneously, hitting a spot that makes your cunt gush and spasm. "There it is."

You think they said it simultaneously, you can't really place where the voices are coming from when you're screaming like that, so loud you're for sure your teammates hear in the adjoining rooms. You can't say you care, while they moan and slurp you up, hungry messy sounds making you reach higher.

"Ngh!" You're shaking, breasts heaving up and down, slightly out in your top all askew. Two hands reach for them, while they share your taste together, moaning against you and vibrating your cunt.

"Who's gay now?" Satoru asks, leaning up and gripping your chin, you barely manage to focus on his pretty face

"I'll give you bi- ah!" Suguru smacks your cunt, it feels far too good, leaning over you too, both taking turns kissing you softly. "Fuck, okay, okay you two are insanely good."

"Who's better?" Suguru is met with a shove from Satoru, grinning all pretty and not budging.

"Equal talent, just like on the court." Your words are sincere, though different in their play styles, both men were fucking beasts on the court. They both blush a bit as you lean up and trail your fingers across their cheeks. Your breathing comes down as you share your taste between them.

You feel their touches getting harder, grips deeper, as you are pulled between them both, kissing each one over and over, losing yourself in them, they're both tugging at your thighs, pressing their cocks against you under their thin shorts.

"Wanna be inside first," Satoru practically whines, Suguru scoffs.

"No," he's shoved Satoru off the bed, you can't stop the little laugh at seeing the six foot four man careen off the springy bed with a bounce and thud to the floor. Suguru's on top of you, dark long locks falling against your skin. He's moaning into your lips, you're clinging to him as he presses against the slick mess your cunt has become. "Mmm..."

"No fair." Satoru shoves Suguru off you, turning you to your side facing him, his hands gripping your ass as he presses his cock against you now too, you're soaking his shorts, feeling hands from behind wrap you now. "I don't wanna share."

"Me either, go take a walk." You exhale, looking at each of them, before touching Suguru's cock behind you, his soft moan is met with Satoru's desperate whimper when you touch his.

"Be nice and share, you two." You chide them gently, they sigh and nod, both of your hands stroking them over their shorts, while they kiss along your back and chest.

Satoru's soon tugged his shorts off Suguru joins him, revealing thick pretty cocks, so veiny and leaking pearly precum. You're swallowing nervously at their lengths, unsure how you'd fit them, when they slip off the remnants of your clothes, both rubbing their tips along your pussy. Suguru's pressing against your hole, Satoru's tip is on your clit, rubbing back and forth, filthy sounds.

You're gripping Satoru and kissing him, whining out, Suguru tugs your leg up high, sinking his teeth against your neck. Their tips rub together, they won't admit that it doesn't bother them, they're far too absorbed in how good you feel, how pretty you are between them. They do share everything, but for you they felt a little greedy, each one wanting more.

Suguru's pressing inside your cunt first, groaning as his hand grips a thigh right with Satoru, leaving bruises on your skin. "Mnh!" You're whining out at the stretch, head falling back, to be wrapped with Satoru's fingers, as he keeps stroking your clit, you're filled so full you scream out.

"Fuck she's so tight," Suguru's groaning, Satoru exhales, while he pumps you deep, your tits jiggling perfectly for Satoru's eyes.

"Lemme feel her," Satoru whispers, like you're their little toy then, Suguru pulls out for a moment, leaving you empty and crying out, only for Satoru sink inside your cunt. You're stroking Suguru's cock behind you, slick with you, as Satoru's curved tip hits your spot, making you cum all over him. "Hah, came on my cock first."

"Because I filled her up so good," they're fucking into you a few pumps each turn, till Satoru gets greedy, yanking you on him as he lays on his back, shoving you right down on his cock and whimpering.

The angle is so deep, you feel him right on your cervix, Suguru's lifting you by the hips, behind you now, fucking up into your cunt instead, only for Satoru to yank you back down. You feel like a little doll they're playing with, cunt dripping down each of them, while you're trembling, letting Suguru have you cumming next.

Satoru rolls his finger on your clit while he does, both taking turns fucking your cunt until it's sore, tightening up on them and milking their cocks, their tongues lapping along each ear as they keep dragging you from one cock to the next. They tease your entrance together with their tips at one point, burning the skin there, they both groan as the rub together.

"Where do you want this cum?" Satoru asks softly, you look down, biting your lip then.

"Mouth." They're so eager for this it's amusing, you're on your knees while they take turns fucking your mouth, until you try to suck them both at once, only managing their tips.

"Ah, that's it, gonna cum so much more than you," Satoru murmurs, Suguru is too lost in how good your mouth feels to argue, as you look up at them so pretty, sucking each one and stroking with your hands, saliva dripping down the side of your mouth.

"Shut up, Satoru, God." Your giggle earns Satoru fucking your throat harder, not that you mind, you feel him yanking your hair as you keep stroking Suguru's thick length, choking on him and gagging. The sensations have you grinding against the bed.

"Gonna swallow all of me, huh sweetheart?" Satoru's whisper is met with your whine, while you do just that, swallowing all of his cum, he whimpers and leans his head back. "Baby... feels s'good..."

Your mouth is pulled right off him while he's still twitching, Suguru mercilessly plunging his own cock deep in your throat. "Swallow like a good girl, hmm?"

He's gently brushing your hair back as he fucks your throat so deep, cumming right inside it, filling you with both their flavors, drinking them down greedy. They're both moaning then, bending down to kiss you, tasting each other on your lips, tongues messy and desperate. You lean back and exhale, earning sweet little kisses and strokes from their hands.

"I have got to get sleep," You finally manage to grab your clothes, and the boys are devastated, cocks already hard again. "You just came!"

"I have the best stamina."

"No, that's me."

"I go the most rounds."

"I last longer-"

"Okay boys," you're shaking your head at the two bickering like a married couple. You pat their chests now. "I need some sleep before the match, and so do you."

"No fun, boring," Satoru is all pouty when he helps you up, both of then adjust your clothes, fixing your hair gently, you ease in the touch for a moment, cunt still throbbing from them, thighs shaky.

"Let me have your number." Suguru asks then, you eye him with a turn of your lips, Satoru steps in front of him, blocking your field of vision.

"Let me, pretty please?"

"Whoever wins tomorrow gets my number." You kiss each of them, leaving them whining as you brush your fingers on each of their cheeks.

"I'm gonna win." Suguru and Satoru say it at once, you laugh again, turning and walking to the door. You look at them then, shoving at each other, smiling a bit.

"If you jerk off together tonight-"

"We won't!"

"Film it?"

Their scowls urge you on, surely they don't stroke themselves helplessly thinking about you!

Ahaha this was just some silliness I hope you like it 🤭🤭🤭

perm tags- @alt--er--love @nanasukii28 @cuntphoric @loafteaw @n1vi @indiewritesxoxo @miizuzu @beachaddict48 @honeybunnnnie @re-tired-succubus @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @1brii @wise-fangirl @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @designerpvssy @orixxxana @airandyeah @nina-from-317 @evelynxxo @naammiii @soyokosuguru @espresso1patronum @tomboy-disaster @iam-souless @lanii-i @cristy-101 @doeeyestoji @cvixmei @mutsu422 @ivyvenus333 @g00seg1rl @suki91 @satoblue @fairygardenprincesss @theonlyjuggernaut @huntyhuntycunty @lovelockdownff @ibreathesmut @s777athv @twinklywinkly @akiii143 @squeezyvalkyrie @cookielovesbook-akie @oinksa @grignardsreagent @shokosbunny

[stzrgirl4norris]

The Sound Of Our Love Song - LN4

Lando Norris x Reader (smau)

Summary: Lando starts posting cryptic romantic love songs on his instagram posts, slowly soft launching his girlfriend

based on this request by my favorite anon

🎵 Taylor Swift – Lover

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername, mclaren and 3,448,575 others

lando been getting into lattes lately

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yourusername: this better be almond milk

georgerussell63: Woah, personalized takeout cups messages... So we’re in year 8 now?

danielricciardo: oh we’re ENCHANTED now huh

> lando terrible joke now mate

oscarpiastri Glad you acquired taste

user i wonder what possessed lando into drinking coffee

user this is 100% a “I just met her but I’m obsessed” post

user okay king but why this song? 😭

user someone get this man a breakup playlist or a girlfriend

user was not expecting lover with that matcha pic but I respect the chaos

user are you okay bestie blink twice

user blink twice if that matcha is a metaphor

user lando norris confirmed swiftie was not on my bingo card

🎵 Strawberry Wine - Noah Kakan

liked by charles_leclerc, maxfewtrell, yourusername and 2,399,320 others

lando cool latte art ☕

view all comments

yourusername bold of you to post my latte art without credit

> user "without credit" now chat what is this????

oscarpiastri are you gonna marry her or just send increasingly cryptic latte posts

user is this the male version of writing her name in your notebook over and over

user not strawberry wine im not okay 😭😩

user bro is in love love

user bold of you to assume i wouldn’t overanalyze this

maxverstappen1 I liked this before I saw the song, Unliking.

> user what is wrong with noah kahan??😭😭

🎵Close to You - Gracie Abrams

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, mclaren and 3,499,223 others

lando the only winner's you'll ever see😎

view all comments

charles_leclerc I resent this caption

oscarpiastri I didn’t get any Italy gifts

danielricciardo gracie abrams is wild here

alex_albon this man is being soft in a group photo

georgerussell63 There is a lot of thrid wheeling here

user lando are you living in a romcom?

user HE’S SO BAD AT HIDING HER I’M OBSESSED

user this is the slowest soft launch in history but also the best

user is this a pr relationship soft launch or is he just being quirky???

user ok but why does he keep using love songs? this is literally a bro pic 😭😭

McLaren Monaco Fan Q&A

🎵Mama, You Been On My Mind - Jeff Buckley

liked by yourusername, maxfewtrell and 8,211,939 others

lando i give her props for the song suggestion this time ❤️

view all comments

danielricciardo: i feel like i just watched a proposal in 4 pictures

charles_leclerc: wow she actually likes you. incredible. 👏

oscarpiastri: i’m free. i’m finally free.

georgerussell63: i’m not crying i just… fell down the stairs.

alex_albon: this post healed my seasonal depression 🤌

> lilymhe same. and i don’t even follow him

carlossainz55: can you do a boyfriend tutorial or is it too late for us? 😅

yourusername please i was not ready for the feet pic 😭

user THIS IS NOT A DRILL. I REPEAT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

user i was ready for a hard launch, but NOT a love letter in JPEG format

user sir. SIR. we were not READY.

user this is the most aesthetic relationship reveal in f1 history

user anyway i’m going to go sit outside in the rain now

🎵Happy Together - The Turtles

liked by lilyzneimer, lando, kikagomes and 659,888 others

yourusername he can stop pretending he likes coffee now

view all comments

lando thank god.

oscarpiastri I’m getting cavities just looking at this

maxverstappen1 I muted you both and it’s still not enough

lilymhe this is what couples therapy wishes it could do

user we watched a latte become a metaphor for soulmates

user she is the blueprint. the bar. the standard.

user she picked the best love song in the world. i can’t do this anymore

user this isn’t a soft launch or a hard launch anymore. this is a ✨cinematic universe ✨

[buckysleftbicep]

for better or for worse (2) 𐙚 b.b

pairing: new avenger!bucky barnes x reader (fake marriage au)

warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors, dni, slow burn (sorta), sexual tension, one bed trope, possessiveness, jealous!bucky, deep conversations, a touch of angst

summary: you and bucky are forced to play newlyweds at a luxury honeymoon resort. he’s controlling, you’re reckless, and now you’re sharing a bed. the problem? it’s getting harder to play pretend. and you’re not sure either of you will survive what comes next.

word count: 4.3k

author's note: hii my dears! i am so so excited to post this chapter because i had a great time writing it! i love it so, so much and i hope you will too! love ya guys and stay safe out there!

series masterlist

The moonlight spilled through the glass panes in long, soft streaks, painting the suite in muted silver. Outside, waves crashed against the cliffs in slow, rhythmic intervals–their roar softened by thick walls and heavier curtains. The night had finally gone still.

The comms had gone silent. One final crackle from Ava confirmed the team was calling it, settling down, resting.

And for the first time in hours, maybe days, there was peace.

You sat at the edge of the bed, your back to Bucky, one hand gripping the edge of a throw pillow as you carefully wedged it between you both—a makeshift border. 

You didn’t say anything, didn’t look at him. You just dropped back onto the mattress with a heavy exhale, arms crossing beneath your head, eyes fixed on the ceiling like it held answers.

The room held its breath for a moment.

Then Bucky’s voice cut through it, low and quiet, but not soft.

“Didn’t think you disliked me that much.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch the faint nod he gave toward the pillow. His tone was casual, but his jaw was tight, like he was holding something back.

“I don’t,” you said, after a beat.

His brow arched, his gaze flicking toward you. “Explains why you always have an issue with our mission briefs.”

You pushed yourself upright, the pillow sagging uselessly between you both now. Your hand came up to rub at your face, and for a second, the words stuck in your throat.

“I—” you started, then stopped. Swallowed hard. “I just hate it when you tell me I’m too reckless.”

You looked at him then. Really looked.

“I knew what I was signing up for,” you said quietly. “Even when I was fighting alongside Steve. You know that.”

Bucky’s gaze didn’t waver. If anything, it sharpened — steady and unblinking.

“Doesn’t mean you should run headfirst into danger like you’ve got nothing to lose.”

You blinked. Your shoulders stiffened.

The words sank deeper than you expected.

And for a long moment, neither of you spoke.

Then your voice broke the silence—quieter now, tinged with something vulnerable.

“It’s not that I don’t care.”

You looked down at your lap, picking at the edge of the blanket.

“I care too much. That’s the problem.”

Across the space, you heard him shift slightly. The tension in the room thickened.

When he spoke again, his voice was lower—thoughtful, and edged with something that made your chest ache.

“I’m not asking you to stop caring.”

He paused. Swallowed, the muscle in his jaw ticking.

“I’m asking you not to die over it.”

That landed harder than anything else.

A quiet laugh escaped you—dry, tired. Not amused, not angry, just exhausted by all of it.

“You always know what to say to piss me off.”

Bucky huffed, his voice rough but dry as he muttered, “And yet, you’re still in bed with me.”

You rolled your eyes, but the corner of your mouth quirked up despite yourself.

“Unfortunately.”

The silence that followed wasn’t hostile this time. It was something else—quieter, heavier. Like neither of you wanted to break it.

Bucky shifted under the covers, rolling onto his back with a soft grunt, his arm tucked beneath his head.

You stayed where you were for a beat before turning as well, laying down slowly, your cheek pressed to the pillow. The pillow between you had tilted, half-fallen, no longer really separating anything.

Another long pause.

Then—his voice, tired but teasing.

“You ever gonna tell me what Steve saw in you?”

You smirked against the pillow, voice muffled.

“Probably the same thing he saw in you.”

That earned you a faint, almost inaudible breath—a half-laugh, maybe. Or a sigh.

Silence settled again, but this time it didn’t press down. It simply existed.

Then, gently—so soft you almost didn’t catch it—you murmured, “Goodnight, Buck.”

He didn’t answer right away. And for a moment, you wondered if he’d already drifted off.

But then his voice came—low and warm and careful.

“’Night, doll.”

Sunlight spilled into the suite before Bucky opened his eyes.

Warmth stretched across the room in slow, golden streaks, brushing over tangled sheets and quiet skin. It was still early—the kind of hush that only existed between dawn and the first cup of coffee. 

The air smelled faintly of ocean salt and something softer. Familiar.

Something was different.

He blinked, lids heavy with sleep, and let his gaze drift downward.

Your leg was slung across his thigh, your ankle hooked behind his knee like it belonged there. 

The pillow barrier, the one you’d so pointedly wedged between you the night before had disappeared. Kicked aside, maybe or forgotten entirely.

Your foot twitched gently against his calf. A soft brush, barely there.

His eyes traced the curve of your body, how you were curled up on your side facing him, one arm tucked beneath your cheek, lashes fanned across your flushed skin. 

Your lips were parted, breath coming in steady little huffs that bordered on a snore. The faintest one. The kind he would make fun of you for if he wasn’t completely, utterly still.

Hair spilled across the pillow in soft, wild waves, catching the sunlight like silk. A few strands clung to your cheek, and Bucky had the ridiculous urge to brush them away.

He should’ve moved. Should’ve pulled back.

But he didn’t. He just stared.

His chest tightened, not with panic, not with dread, but with something harder to place. He thought about the first time he met you. Wakanda. Steve had brought you in, all bright eyes and that boyish grin like the world hadn’t fallen apart yet.

“You’ll get along great,” that punk had said.

You hadn’t.

You and Bucky had argued within the first ten minutes. Something about strategy. Or maybe tone. He hadn’t cared. You had been sharp and loud and stubborn as hell.

Trouble.

That’s what he’d thought back then. And it hadn’t changed.

You were still trouble. Just a different kind now.

His heart gave a sudden, traitorous skip.

Bucky exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down his face as he slipped out of bed. He moved carefully, not wanting to disturb you, and padded toward the bathroom. The door shut behind him with a quiet click.

Steam curled in the air as he showered. Quick. Efficient. But even the cold water didn’t do much to calm the part of him that had stirred just looking at you, all soft limbs and sleep-warmed skin, wrapped around him like it was nothing.

By the time he stepped back into the bedroom, towel slung around his hips, damp hair sticking to his forehead, you were awake.

Sitting up in bed, stretching with a soft groan, eyes still half-lidded from sleep.

He froze for a second, towel clenched in one hand, before resuming his pace with practiced ease. “Morning, sunshine,” he muttered, rubbing a hand through his wet hair.

You squinted at him, voice gravelly with sleep. “Did you shower without me, husband?”

He smirked. Tired. A little crooked.

Before he could fire back, the comms unit on the nightstand crackled to life, loud in the quiet room.

“Hey, newlyweds,” came John’s voice, chipper and smug, like he had been waiting all morning to say it. “It’s showtime.”

You groaned dramatically, flopping back against the pillows. “I vote we shoot him first.”

Bucky just chuckled under his breath, reaching for his clothes.

And for a moment, the mission didn’t feel like the first thing on his mind.

Breakfast was held on the open-air terrace—one of those places designed to convince you the world was gentle and safe.

Tables spaced perfectly apart. Linen napkins folded like origami. No clatter of dishes or rushed servers, just soft laughter, chilled mimosas, and the scent of blooming bougainvillea drifting in on the sea breeze.

Couples lounged beneath wide cream parasols, draped in breezy linen and high-end sunglasses. They looked like stock photos of happiness, manicured hands, the kind of people who laughed at investment jokes and wore sunscreen that probably cost your month's pay.

None of them knew, of course, that this idyllic resort was a front for arms dealing, or if they did, they were too well paid to care.

You and Bucky sat side by side at a table near the edge of the cliffside terrace, facing the view.

The ocean stretched out endlessly below, a shade of blue so surreal it bordered on artificial. Waves crashed lazily against jagged rock far beneath, a perfect soundtrack for luxury.

The food was suspiciously good. Poached eggs drizzled in hollandaise, tropical fruit sliced like artwork, coffee brewed with the kind of richness that usually required a pay raise to enjoy guilt-free.

It made your stomach turn. Not because of the flavor, but because of what it was meant to distract you from.

Beside you, Bucky sipped his coffee like he was born for it—relaxed, unreadable, dressed in that effortlessly attractive way he somehow always managed.

Button-down shirt rolled to the elbows. Compression sleeve covering his vibranium arm, dark slacks. That serious tilt of his head when he was scanning a crowd like he already had three different exit strategies mapped and he probably did.

He leaned in slightly, barely a breath from your ear. “There are eyes on us.”

You didn’t react, didn’t flinch, didn’t stiffen. Just tilted your chin like you were admiring the sea.

“What do we do?” you asked quietly.

Bucky didn’t speak right away. He simply reached across the table and extended his hand—slow, deliberate, steady. Palm up.

“Take it.”

Your fingers hesitated in mid-air for a heartbeat. Maybe less.

But your pulse stuttered all the same. Then you slid your hand into his.

His hand was larger than yours—warm and rough, the calluses along his palm catching against your smoother skin. He threaded your fingers through his with ease, like it wasn’t the first time. Like this was normal.

Like you did this every day.

And then, without a word, Bucky leaned forward.

It was smooth. Natural. Performed with the kind of calm conviction that made it impossible to tell if he was acting or not. His lips brushed against your forehead, just barely. A kiss that was technically innocent.

Technically.

But it lingered.

Just long enough to curl fire low in your stomach, just enough for your spine to straighten and your breath to hitch and your skin to prickle like he had whispered something obscene instead of just pressing his mouth to your skin.

You didn’t move.

Couldn’t.

He pulled back slowly. Deliberately. His breath skimmed your cheek before he spoke, quiet and dangerous and intimate.

“Good girl.”

You swallowed so hard it hurt. Your fingers tightened around his instinctively.

The words hit low, sharp. Like he knew exactly what they’d do to you.

And of course he did.

You turned your head toward him, trying to glare but failing to keep the heat from your cheeks.

“Fuck you,” you muttered under your breath.

He grinned, small, smug, and entirely unbothered. “You wish.”

You were reaching for your butter knife, not entirely in jest, when a shadow fell across the table.

“Hi!” came a woman’s voice—high, bright, dripping with vacation charm. “Sorry to interrupt, but we just had to say you two are adorable.”

You blinked. Then smiled, easy, polite, flawless, you were trained for this afterall. 

The woman was beautiful, her hair in beachy waves and her sheer cover-up knotted artfully at her waist. Her partner stood beside her, tall and tanned and radiating coastal wealth in designer sandals.

“I’m Layna, and this is Fred, my husband” she said, gesturing to the man beside her.

“Nice to meet you,” you replied smoothly, leaning into Bucky just enough to look natural. “I’m y/n. This is my husband, James.”

Layna lit up. “Oh my god, how long have you been together?”

You laughed like you hadn’t rehearsed this answer a hundred times. “Not long. We met at a barbecue actually. My best friend dragged me out, I didn’t want to go—”

“—And she showed up in a hot dog dress,” Bucky cut in, deadpan. “One of those cheap polyester ones with actual mustard stains. It was horrible.”

You elbowed him lightly. “It was themed.”

He looked at Layna. “I knew I was screwed the second I spoke to her.”

Everyone laughed.

You did too—maybe a little too easily, maybe because the tension still hadn’t left your body.

Maybe because you liked the way his hand never left yours, even while he cracked jokes and charmed strangers like he was actually your husband.

“Fell in love fast,” you added. “One of those whirlwind things. It was impractical.” Bucky’s eyes flicked to yours. Something quiet passed between you.

“And here I am,” he said after a beat, his voice softer, almost sincere. “With the most amazing woman on my arm.”

You blinked. Your heart gave a hard, traitorous thud.

He said it like he meant it.

Fred smiled. “There’s a party tomorrow night, hosted by the resort. Most of the guests will be there. Music, dancing, drinks, the whole thing. You two should absolutely come.”

You glanced at Bucky, and he was already nodding. “We’ll be there.”

Fred offered a handshake, which Bucky returned with practiced charm. Layna gave your arm a light squeeze before the couple wandered off toward the next table, already chatting about cocktails and playlists.

You let out a slow breath and reached for your mimosa.

“That was smooth,” you murmured, not quite meeting his eye.

Bucky reached for his own glass. Shrugged. “You make it easy, sweetheart.”

The ice clinked softly as you took a long sip.

But the warmth in your chest had nothing to do with the sun.

The afternoon sun shimmered across the infinity pool, casting golden halos over rippling water and polished tile. Heat clung to every surface, rising in waves from the stone and dancing in the air, thick with chlorine and expensive sunscreen.

From where Bucky sat—shadowed beneath the awning of the resort’s poolside bar — he had a perfect, unobstructed view of you.

Unfortunately.

His sunglasses sat low on the bridge of his nose, obscuring the hard line of his stare as he nursed a whiskey neat like it was the only thing keeping him from doing something reckless.

Because there you were.

Stretched out on a lounge chair like sin itself, your skin glowing under a sheen of sunscreen. The black bikini you wore left almost nothing to the imagination—cut low at the chest, the delicate straps framing the full swell of your breasts like you were on a goddamn magazine cover.

The bottoms were worse—high-waisted and scandalously snug, drawing attention to every curve, the dip of your waist, the flare of your hips, the smooth length of your thighs.

You adjusted your posture with a soft sigh, arching your back slightly, and Bucky’s jaw clenched.

You had to know what you were doing.

You had to.

“You good, Barnes?” John’s voice crackled in through the private comm, dry as bone. “You look like you’re watching someone drown your puppy.”

Bucky didn’t answer. His fingers curled tighter around his glass. His drink had gone warm, forgotten.

Because now some guy was approaching you.

Tall. Tan. Dripping with charm and artificial coconut oil. His teeth were too white. His confidence, too casual. Loud swim trunks, no shirt, and a body that looked like it had been spray-tanned into oblivion.

Bucky’s gaze sharpened as the man leaned down, said something, something smooth, probably—and you laughed.

Head tossed back, mouth parted, shoulders shaking slightly as your sunglasses slid a little down your nose. You tilted your face toward him with that lazy, practiced ease that Bucky had seen you use in interrogations. 

But this? This felt different. This felt…indulgent.

Bucky didn’t move, didn’t speak. But the tension in his frame spiked like a live wire.

“She’s working,” he muttered, more to himself than to John.

“Uh huh,” John replied, sounding entirely too entertained. “With her hand on his bicep like that? Damn. That’s some dedicated espionage.”

Sure enough, your fingers had drifted up — a slow, playful touch along the man’s arm. You laughed again, shifting your weight on the chair. He leaned closer. You didn’t move away. The man gestured toward the bar, probably offering to buy you a drink.

You declined, gently, warmly, and smiled.

Flirted.

Bucky’s pulse was in his ears now, drowning out the pool’s background chatter, the music, the splash of distant swimmers. Then your hand moved again, slow, calculated, grazing just above the stranger’s wrist. You said something, lips barely moving, expression unreadable behind your shades.

And that was it.

His chair scraped sharply against the tile as Bucky stood.

He didn’t think, didn’t pause.

The glass clinked against the bar top as he set it down, forgotten and still full. His sunglasses were off in one hand, his jaw locked, every muscle in his frame tight enough to snap.

You noticed him immediately.

Of course you did.

Your smile didn’t falter—not even a flicker. But your eyes shifted beneath the lenses, gleaming with challenge as you clocked the storm brewing in his expression.

“Babe,” Bucky said, voice clipped, biting.

The man glanced between you. Confused. Hesitating.

“Can we talk?” Bucky added, stepping closer. His tone wasn’t casual, it wasn’t even convincingly polite.

The guy blinked, his easy confidence faltering. “Everything okay?”

“She’s married,” Bucky said, flatly.

You arched a brow, turning your face slightly toward him. The stranger took a step back, reading the situation fast enough to not make it worse.

“Just chatting dude,” he said with a chuckle, hands raised in retreat. “Didn’t mean any disrespect.”

You waited until he was gone, until his retreating footsteps faded behind the laughter of a nearby couple.

Then, slowly, you stood.

It was all deliberate. Every motion, the way you stretched, the way your hips rolled slightly as you rose to your full height. The slow drag of your hand as it smoothed down your side, adjusting your bikini like you didn’t have a six-foot ex-assassin practically vibrating with tension in front of you.

“That was unnecessary,” you said, voice like honey laced with venom.

“You wanna tell me what the hell that was?” he snapped, stepping closer.

“I was gathering intel.” you replied casually.

“You were feeling yourself.”

You rolled your eyes, brushing past him with a scoff, heading toward the shaded cabana at the edge of the deck. Bucky followed without thinking, fists clenched, his breath too shallow for someone trying to stay calm.

Inside the shadows of the cabana, you turned to face him.

Cool, collected, a slight tilt of your chin, you were the perfect picture of smug control.

“At least I found out that Raskovic is going to be at the party tomorrow night,” you said evenly.

Bucky stopped short.

His chest rose and fell in slow, controlled breaths. “That’s what I mean when I say you’re reckless.”

You stepped closer, fire flashing behind your gaze. “And you’re too fucking uptight.”

“Because I care if you get killed”

The words came out louder than he meant — sharp, frayed at the edges. The air crackled with heat between you.

You blinked. Once.

And then the space between you collapsed.

You didn’t know who moved first, or maybe you both did, but the distance vanished. His hand found your waist with a sudden, almost desperate pull. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt over his chest, clenching like you needed something to hold onto.

Your noses bumped.

His breath ghosted across your lips.

The tension was molten now, thick and stifling and electric, winding between your bodies like a fuse that was seconds from detonating. His head dipped, his lips hovering just above yours.

So close.

So fucking close.

You could feel the heat of him, the way his heart pounded through the space between your ribs and his. His hand splayed wide over your side, fingers twitching like he couldn’t decide whether to push you away or drag you closer.

“You drive me insane,” he whispered, his voice rough and breathless.

“Good,” you whispered back, your lips brushing his.

You tilted your chin.

His gaze dropped to your mouth.

And then—

A door slammed.

A loud bang from across the pool deck—someone returning to their suite, laughing. Carefree. Oblivious.

The spell shattered.

Bucky blinked, jaw tight as you exhaled sharply. Neither of you moved for a moment, eyes locked like you could still feel the ghost of that kiss hanging in the air between you.

Then, finally, you stepped back.

One heel pivoting. Shoulders straight. Your hips swaying with each step as you turned and walked away, head held high, even though your chest was heaving like you’d just run a mile.

Bucky didn’t follow.

Not yet.

He stayed frozen in the quiet cabana, every nerve ending still lit up, his throat tight, his pulse hammering in his ears.

Because he almost kissed you.

And he knew, deep down, that if he had, there wouldn’t have been anything fake about it.

The sun had long dipped beneath the ocean, bleeding into a sky bruised purple and gold.

The suite was silent now, too silent, save for the distant echo of water lapping the rocks below and the soft hum of the resort’s ambient music drifting in through the slightly cracked balcony door.

You lay on the far edge of the bed, curled on your side with your back to the empty space beside you.

And yet, it didn’t feel empty at all.

It felt charged, crowded with the ghost of something you hadn’t quite touched.

Your fingers curled into the soft silk of the sheets. They were cool against your palm, and for a moment, you imagined they were his shirt again, that black button-down, the one you’d grabbed by the chest like you were going to yank him forward and crash your mouth against his.

God.

You let out a quiet breath and squeezed your eyes shut, willing the memory away.

But it didn’t go.

You could still feel it.

The way his voice rasped against your skin—you drive me insane.

The press of his hand at your waist, the exact distance between your lips and his.

It wasn’t just chemistry. It was something molten and sharp, curled deep beneath your skin.

You hated it.

Hated how he got under your skin. How easily he could unravel you with a look, a word, a low murmur that didn’t belong in any fucking mission.

You were supposed to be in control.

You always had been—reckless, sure. Bold, maybe. But calculated.

But now? Now you were pacing mental circles around a kiss that hadn’t even happened.

You could still feel the heat of him, still hear the low growl of his voice in the back of your mind, still smell the faint mix of his aftershave and sweat from where he’d been too close.

You rolled onto your back, dragging a hand over your face.

It would’ve been easier if he had kissed you. At least then you’d have something to pin it on. Something concrete to fight about or pretend to forget.

But no—now you were stuck in the grey space between almost and what if, and it was driving you up the goddamn wall.

From the bathroom, you heard the faint sound of water running.

Bucky.

You’d come in first, slammed a drawer a little too hard while getting ready for bed, and said nothing. He hadn’t said anything either. Just raised a brow, undressed in silence, and disappeared into the bathroom like he didn’t nearly kiss you into oblivion hours earlier.

The faucet turned off.

You stared at the ceiling, throat tight, chest buzzing with frustration.

Not just at him. At yourself.

At the way your skin still tingled like it remembered everything you were trying not to think about.

The bathroom door opened.

You didn’t look. You didn’t need to.

You could feel the shift in the room—the way the air thickened, the tension crackling like static.

He moved quietly, bare feet on the tile, towel slung low around his waist. You caught a glimpse of him in the mirror.

He didn’t say a word. Neither did you.

He changed into a t-shirt and sweats, the fabric stretching across his chest and shoulders as he moved, slow and deliberate.

You pretended not to watch. Pretended not to notice how your eyes followed the way his muscles flexed, how the sleeve tugged slightly at the edge of his bicep.

He turned the lights off and approached the bed, pausing for half a second—like he wasn’t sure where to lie.

You didn’t make it easier.

Eventually, he eased into his side, facing away from you, careful to stay on his side of the bed.

A wide strip of cool linen separated your bodies. But it didn’t matter.

The tension hung between you anyway.

It pulsed like a live wire, buzzing beneath your skin, settling deep in your stomach, curling around your lungs and squeezing.

You could hear the faint shift of his breathing. Slower now. Controlled.

But not calm.

You stared into the dark, your fingers twitching at your side. You wanted to reach for him, god you wanted to hit him.

You wanted to kiss him until he broke whatever smug, controlled thing he kept wrapped around himself and finally admitted what you both knew was happening.

But you didn’t do any of that.

You just lay there, trying to breathe around the silence, trying not to imagine the press of his lips against yours.

Not to remember the way his fingers gripped your waist like he didn’t want to let go.

Not to wonder how it would’ve felt if you hadn’t pulled away.

And somewhere in the middle of all that tension, your eyes finally drifted shut.

You didn’t sleep well.

Neither did Bucky.

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