#besides i stayed late constantly at my other job and look where it got me so i’m done with that

[steviescrystals]

somebody has to be playing a prank on me today like this is not real!

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you write headcannons for Smoke and Bihan with their s/o who's overworked themselves to the point where they hardly get sleep and barely eat?

Tomas Vrbada

He’s naturally going to be concerned about your well being the moment you rejected food and or sleep on multiple occasions across a period of time.

Tomas understood that your work was important that that you’ll have a fair few nights where you went without sleep or eating, but he quickly draws the line when he could start to visibly see the physical toll your overworking tendency has taken. You could barely stand on your own two fucking feet without constantly shifting your stance, as your eyes struggled to stay open and the dark begs beneath them got worse.

To Tomas no job was worth someone’s health and well-being and this job certainly wasn’t worth yours in the slightest. Your work be damned but he wasn’t about to watch you slowly deteriorate overtime, whilst he’s stuck stood at the sidelines, knowing deep down that he could stop this before it becomes too late to make change.

‘Why?’ You asked when Tomas asked you to take some time off from work, biting back a yawn, thinking you were slick. ‘I’m in the middle of something important for work and I have to cover for two long shifts later this week, seeing as my coworker had dropped them on a extremely short notice…again.’ You muttered the last bit under your breath but Tomas heard it as though you were speaking at a normal volume.

‘That!’ He pretty much exclaimed before composing himself and sat beside you at your desk, taking one of your hands in his whilst his thumb rubbed your skin soothingly. ‘Look I get that you love this job and want to build a career for yourself, which I’m all for but,’ he looks into your eyes where you saw just how worried he was, ‘I don’t want to stand by and watch you destroy yourself for a job that doesn’t commemorate all you’ve done for them.’

Tomas rested his forehead against yours, his heart melting when he saw how easily you learn into his warmth. ‘So please, take a break, sleep and for my sake please eat because I can’t bear to watch you destroy yourself for others who don’t value you like I do.’ He whispered against your lips. ‘I see the effort you put in but there has to come a time where you must walk away from situations that don’t benefit you.’ You sat on his words and allowed yourself to feel just how exhausted, how heavy with fatigue your body was that you could barely lift a finger.

Tomas was right, like he always was, maybe a break wouldn’t be so bad if it meant you could cuddle into him and indulge in his cooking as much as your stomach could handle.

Yeah, that sounds way better than working.

‘Okay.’ You said softly. ‘I’ll call in tomorrow.’

‘No need, I already told them that you’d be taking a break and to not be contacted until you feel like you’re ready to go back in.’ Tomas admitted and you couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘Unbelievable.’ You teased, only to yawn soon after before nestling yourself again him. ‘But I’m not complaining if it means I get to annoy you for the next few days.’

Tomas was the one the chuckle this time and kisses the top of your head. ‘Jokes on you, I love having you annoy me. Now get to sleep, baby. You’re more than deserving of it.’

Bi-Han

I see him as the kind of person to do the same but I could be wrong. He just strikes me as the type to not properly take care of himself, ya know? That’s just my opinion.

Bi-Han runs himself into the ground to become stronger for himself and for the future survival of the Lin Quei but the moment you begin to run yourself into the ground for other people at your place of work? He becomes the biggest hypocrite known to man.

So he wouldn’t think much of it at first but the more it happened, the more it became apparent to Bi-Han that something was wrong, very wrong and he needed to step in.

He finds your desire to make a career for yourself admirable but not like this, you don’t get respect from the people who’ll never understand the importance of a hard days work. In Bi-Han’s, everyone else should strive to earn your respect for the shit you put yourself through. Seeing as you weren’t given no thanks for your efforts, but instead countless more expectations to pick up your coworkers slack.

So I wouldn’t put it past Bi-Han to demand that you take a break, Grandmaster’s orders and all that.

‘Bi-Han I can’t just take a break! I’ve got important work to do-‘

‘Work that isn’t yours to complete.’ Bi-Han interrupted but he was right, you had finished your work in advance and now multiple people at work suddenly claimed that they had other obligations to do theirs, thus pulling them onto you instead with nothing other then fake smiles and even faker gratitude.

Curse your people pleasing tendencies!

You sighed, rubbing at your aching eyes that have only seemed to have gotten worse over the course of the past couple of days. ‘Then what do you suggest I do? Not finish them and let them bitch at me for their lack of responsibilities?’ You asked rhetorically, knowing that with Bi-Han, you’ll never win this argument as he always has something to back up his claims.

And besides you were too tired to argue against something that you both knew was true, it wasn’t your work to finish and so by that logic, no blame would befall you entirely. At least you hoped not.

‘It is due to their lack of responsibility that has caused you this fatigue, beloved. They’re more then deserving of the punishment.’ Bi-Han said. ‘You shouldn’t hold yourself responsible for other people’s decisions nor destroy yourself into looking reliable to your peers. You’re better than them, more resilient, dependable, hard working, determined but most of all; you take responsibility for any and all of your decisions applicably.’ Bi-Han sat back at his chair and gestured to the food before the both of you that had yet to be touched. ‘But now it’s time you rest and eat as much as you possibly can.’

[mins-fins]

☆ 1 killing my boss challenge!

❝ day 1289 of work, trying

my best not to quit.. ❞

⌗ NOTE 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 welcome to chapter one ☺️!! now this definitely might be a little underwhelming for a first chapter but tbh im just so excited for this i love nct dream in a silly sitcom style fic (poor reader is suffering i am so sorry) but anyway love you all it is currently midnight so goodbye

⌗ WORD COUNT 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 1.1k

⌗ MASTERLIST | NEXT

YOU SHOULDN'T GO TO WORK TODAY.

you really shouldn't, you don't want to. you can practically hear the sound of your managers piercing screams before you even step out of the house, and you swear it makes you shiver. you don't even have to look into the other room to know that renjun already left, these days, he usually gets up and leaves the house earlier than you do, but he never forgets to leave a note to tell you.

when you walk into the kitchen, the first thing you notice is a sticky note on the cabinet. you can immediately recognize renjun's handwriting, and you simply smile immediately upon seeing the note.

left early again.. sorry mark needed me for something :( see you later i love you!! — renjun♡

you let out the slightest giggle, rubbing your hands over your face before sighing. you place your hands onto the counter, and stare at the digital clock before you. you've never been late to work, even with how late you leave the house, and as you in stare at the time, going from 7:32 to 7:33 am, you almost consider staying home and being lazy.

you want to be lazy.

you want so badly to be lazy.

you do not want to go to work.

but who else is going to pay all your expenses if it isn't you?

so you roll your eyes and suck it up, grabbing your stuff and walking out of your shared dorm.

it's a saturday! a saturday and i'm fucking working!

you twirl your keys around your fingers and whistle a song to yourself. another day, another inclusion of grueling hours of yelling and trying to stop your coworkers from getting themselves fired added to your week. you wish you could stay home for a day, but without you, the workplace really doesn't function correctly.

and that's not just you saying that! mark has told you that on the several occasions where you got the seven of your crazy coworkers out of trouble.

and do you constantly risk your job to make sure that the idiots you work with do not lose their jobs? yes, but can you help it? no.

at this point, your surprised how you haven't lost your job with how many times you take the fall for your coworkers.

when you arrive at the store, you sigh, you almost consider turning around and walking all the way home, because you feel like if you step into the store and clock in you are genuinely going to punch the first customer that yells at you.

but, you have a job to do, and you have money to make.

you can practically hear the complaints from your mother as you step in. why do you even work there? you could find so many better jobs!

yeah well nobody else is hiring!

you'd rather stay here than take the risk of quitting and not being able to find a new job.

"you're late!" donghyuck yells at you as you walk through the door. he smirks as your face falls, you just walked in and you already wanna walk straight out, amazing!

"i'm ten minutes early" you state, gritting your teeth, he stares at you for a moment before rolling his eyes. "if anyone is gonna be late it's jaemin.." you mumble, immediately clocking in as you stand beside him.

donghyuck once again chuckles at you, a shit-eating grin coming to his face as he thinks about a stupid joke he told yesterday. "oh, by the way, yoon wanted me to give this to you".

you raise an eyebrow, confused, but donghyuck just gives you a post-it note with your boss' handwriting on it.

i'm out for an emergency today, so you are in charge, make sure to keep everything in check y/n - yoon jaeho.

you reread the thing at least four times before sighing and placing your head down onto the counter, already regretting coming into work. donghyuck looks over your shoulder to read the sticky note, and immediately bursts into a loud fit of laughter. "holy shit he left you in charge!?"

you want to scream and cry, seriously.

"well good luck y/n, break a leg!" donghyuck pats your back aggressively, hitting it more than patting it.

"don't hit me lee donghyuck".

the stern tone you give him makes him roll his eyes once again, and you flick him in the forehead before walking past him towards the staff room. when he walks through the door, he's met with a specific smiling individual.

"hi y/n!"

"good morning".

renjun gives a smile to you, mark waves, and jeno looks surprised that you even showed up. "i thought you would've stayed home.." he mutters.

you furrow your eyebrows. "why that?"

"you took like fifty exams yesterday" mark says with an exaggerated tone, you barely stifle your laugh, and end up letting out a displeasing sounding snicker. "i genuinely thought you would've overslept".

"oh believe me, i tried to oversleep, i failed".

at the words, jeno laughs, covering his mouth with his hand, renjun just sighs, shaking his head. you scan the room, then stop, because there are people missing.

"where are chenle and jisung?" you inquire, now those two aren't the most reliable people out of all eight of you, but they usually clock in not long after you, sometimes even before you, so them not being here despite the fact that they have to be is.. strange.

"oh, apparently they're coming with jaemin today" jeno responds.

you blink, as if trying to process the very words that jeno just told you. was he serious? "what?"

"yep" renjun nods, chewing obnoxiously loud as he ignores mark's continuous poking on his shoulder. "i don't know why either, i think they just got lazy".

you refrain yourself from absolutely going insane and shouting, because you were left in charge, so you have to keep your cool and stay calm. you sigh and punch the bridge of your nose. "okay yeah um, whatever i'll just talk to them when they get her—"

"y/n!"

you jump as donghyuck peaks into the room, smiling at everyone before deadpanning at you. "um we have an issue with a customer that somehow doesn't understand the layout of the place".

you blink. "what?"

"yeah apparently she needs a verbal instruction on how to navigate the place and your the only person that knows the place like the back of your hand, so..." donghyuck waves to jeno, then looks back to you with that signature empty state of his as he awaits your response.

"i— alright, yeah i'm coming" you slightly wave him off and look back to the three in the room. "be good" you command, pointing your finger at the three of them, as if accusingly.

"aye aye captain" mark replies, saluting to you. you chuckle before yelping as you get pulled out of the room by donghyuck.

"ow! hyuck my arm!"

oh you had a long day ahead of you.

[fanficwriterforeverythingnerdy]

A Kenobi Part 2

It had been a little over two years since Grogu had left with Luke. Two years since Din and the others found out your true identity. Y/n Kenobi. The daughter of a famous Jedi and a Mandolorian dutchess. You never knew your mother, just the stories your father told you growing up before he’d turn away with a defeated look. 

You remember one time, you had to have been about six or seven, you riffled through a box under your father’s bed. You discovered many things a few spare parts, a necklace, and a holopad. Your curiosity grew and you opened it. An image of a woman appeared. She was beautiful. She had short hair that resembled calm ocean waves. She looked regal in a gorgeous gown. She smiled and it met her eyes. You realized you had some of her features–could she be–your mother–

“Little Star, I’ve told you not to go through my things,” said your father. 

He reached the side of the bed you sat by and froze. He gazed sadly at the hologram. Your father approached you lightly hitting the button to turn it off. You placed it back where you found it. Your father wrapped his arms around you lifting you up in the air and plopping you on his bed. Kneeling in front of you he made direct eye contact. 

“Daddy, who was that?” 

“That was an old transmission from your mother.” 

“Oh,” your little voice said, “She’s pretty.” 

Your father chuckled softly, 

“Yes, she was.” 

“Daddy, did the empire take Mommy away?” 

“No, a bad man took her away.” 

That was all you knew of her. He didn’t even tell you her name. You found out who she was a few months prior to meeting Din. Satine Kyrze Dutchess of Mandalore. She ruled with peace and pacifism. And she was murdered by a sith named Darth Maul. 

You sighed pushing the thoughts of the mother you never knew to the back of your mind. Then you felt it. Felt the brush of the force. Something had been calling to you for a couple of weeks now. In that time Din had been gone for a solid week. He’d taken a few odd jobs to get some credits. He’d been more sentimental lately when he left you. You knew he worried about when he was gone. Since Grogu left he’d been more protective. Of course, he had to be, he promised to marry you. 

Currently, you were on Tatooine. The planet where you’d grown up. Where you and Luke Skywalker had met. You of course knew of him growing up. Your father worried about him constantly. Something you didn’t understand until you were older. 

Peli and her team of droids had been working on getting a new ship for Din. She’d somehow gotten her hands on a Nabooian N-1 Starfighter. You knew it was a fast ship, but you knew Din would have issues with it nonetheless, especially since it was a one-seater. You were going to have to stay behind more often. Or maybe you’d follow the force. 

All of a sudden you heard blaster shots. Peli must have been taking care of a pest again. You went out to investigate. 

“Come out come out wherever you are,” Peli said. 

She was investigating behind a box. She looked out at the droids noticing your presence. When suddenly she was dragged down to the ground.

“Oh, it’s got me! It’s chewing!” yelled Peli. 

You moved forward blaster in hand. But before you could shoot at it a blast hit directly. Your head whipped in the direction the blast had come from. Shiny armor met your vision. Din. You dropped your blaster and bolted over to Din. His arms opened wide for you. You ran straight into them. He lifted you off the ground. Leaning his forehead against yours for a kedblade kiss. 

“What an entrance,” said Peli, “ BD you good? Oh, good. Oh, boy.” 

“You alright Peli?” you asked. Breaking apart from you Mandalorian. 

“Fine, fine,” she said, “Look everyone it's Mando!” 

All the droids began leaving, knowing how Din felt about droids. A small giggle escaped you. 

“So, besides Y/n what do I owe the pleasure? I almost thought you were going to leave Y/n here.” 

“I got your message,” he said. 

“Message, what message?” asked Peli.

“You said you found me a replacement for the Razor Crest.”

Peli looked confused for a moment before answering, 

“Yeah, that’s right. That’s what I said. That’s what I do. I’ve been working my butt off. Did you bring the cash?” 

“It’s right here.” He placed them in Peli’s outstretched hand. 

After giving some orders to the droids Peli began leading the way to the ship. Din interlocked your hands squeezing tightly. She led you to shed where she’d been keeping the ship. 

“Ready to have your mind blown?” 

She pulled off the tarp. Revealing the not finished Nabooian Starfighter. 

“Where’s the Razor Crest?” 

“I never said I had a Razor Crest. I said I had a replacement for the Razor Crest.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Din said reaching for your hand again turning out to leave. 

“Hang on a second,” said Peli

“Din, just hear her out,” you whispered. 

“Do you have any idea what this is?” Peli asked. 

She continued to explain that N-1 Starfighter was made personally for the royal guard of Naboo by the Queen. After saying she’d give Din his money back she began to persuade, one of the things Peli did best. You felt that brush again. 

“At least let me put it together before you make up your mind.” 

That’s how you and Din ended up working on the ship together. It took awhile but she was finally done. Din took it for a test drive. Peli looked over at you.

“I guess the only thing I didn’t think about was you when picking out a ship for him.”

“It’s alright. I think I’ll have to go away for a little bit.”

“Why’s that?” 

“Something in the force is calling to me.” 

“The force?”

“Yeah.”

“He won’t take that well.” 

You sighed she was right. Din loved you more than anything and hated leaving you. You were all he had left. You went to pack up some of your things. You heard Peli talking to someone. You ignored it probably some customer. You heard the starfighter land. A sigh escaped you, it was now or never. You emerged from your room just as Peli said, 

“Oh, by the way, an old friend of yours dropped by, said she was looking for you.” 

“A friend of mine?” 

“ We don’t have very many friends,” you said. Your bag was slung over your shoulder. 

“Don’t worry. I told you I didn’t know where you were. Then I locked her out and engaged the hangar secruity system.” 

“She tell you her name?” asked Din.

“Fennec Shand.” 

Peli shrieked out of alarm. Scolding one of her droids she walked out of the hangar. You looked at Fennec who leaped down. 

“By any chance are you two looking for work?” she asked. 

“Could be,” said Din 

“The pay is good.” 

“What’s the bounty. We need muscle and a Jedi would be handy.” 

“Boba Fett.” 

“He would appreciate it.” 

Din looked at the credits then you and tossed them back to Fennec. 

“Tell him it’s on the house.” 

“But first we have to pay a visit to a little friend,” said Din. 

Din looked at you weaving your hands together. You pulled him away from prying ears. This wasn’t going to be easy. Once out of anyone’s earshot Din wrapped his arms around you bringing you in for another kedblade kiss. 

“Din I have to tell you something.” 

“Mesh’la it can wait when we leave.” “That’s the thing, I can’t come with you.”

“What? Cyar’ka if it’s because of Luke––”

“No, there’s something I have to take care of.” 

“What Cyare? 

“Something is calling out to me through the force.” 

“Cyare I don’t want to lose you, you’re all I have left.” 

“I’ll be alright.” 

“Where will you go?” 

“Something or someone on Chandrila.” 

“Cyar’ka I’m coming with you. “No, you help Fett. I have to do this alone. Besides,” you sigh, “I’ll take my saber with me.” 

Din looked aorund and reached his hands up to remove his helmet. Brown eyes met your eyes. Worry swirled in them. He didn’t like the idea of splitting up. He couldn’t protect you that way. He pulled something out of his utility belt. A commlink. 

“You call me if anything, and I mean anything goes wrong.” 

You wrapped your hand around the commlink threading your other hand in his hair,

“Okay.” 

He leaned his forehead against yours. Slowly he leaned forward capturing your lips with his. It was a soft, but needy kiss. You broke the kiss first looking at Din’s closed eyes. 

“I love you Din.” 

“And I, you Mesh’la.” 

“Say hit to Grogu for me.” 

“I will.” 

“Goodbye Din. I’ll come back to you I feel it in the force.” 

“Ret’urcye mhi ner kar’ta” (Goodbye my heart) 

You pulled yourself away and walked out of Peli’s shop. You didn’t turn back, you couldn’t. You’d run right back to him if you did. You found yourself on public transport. Your saber was hidden well in your bag. You looked out the window. A part of you knew where to start. Ossus. You were going to find Luke.

[honkbird]

O yeah, a little late but my book report from august. No big post because it's 2:30ish am (edit, 3 am as of posting) and I'm a little sleepy Read books: Worlds Without Number, ICON, and a light skim again of Rolemaster Standard System.

So first up, Worlds Without Number (WWN) was pretty neat! I put it on that list expecting something sorta gritty and I got what I wanted I suppose. I read it in the first week-ish of the month and I'm sad to say not much of the actual mechanics stuck with me, but what DID was a very fancy setting of ... I want to say 'post apocolyptic fantasy'? It ended up making me go on a play through of Oblivion and Morrowind later but that kinda killed the mood. The art was really astounding too, lots of landscape shots and I was constantly hooked. Great color balance too for the pages, which is a weird thing to bring up but I've read lots of books with poorly planned page splats. White backgrounds and really saturated art, or those "paper color" pages with a tan color that clash with the actual art. WWN was good, I don't remember anything 'bad' from it actually, but evidently it wasn't striking enough to stay in my head beyond being a class-based point buy system.

ICON was great too! I read it on recommendation as I hadn't looked at it since an old playtest of it. Now, being more or less done, it looked great! It definitely hits the same niche as LANCER and when I was looking up content for it I wanted to check out CAIN next too. Probably won't get to due to classes but oh well. Tom's art was, as usual, spectacular. Go read Kill Six Billion Demons if you want to see more of their stuff in comic form. But on the actual system, in LANCER my favorite part (and everyone else's, probably) was the mechs. Obviously, if you're not in the mech, you don't have access to your cool mech stuff. The solution? Give characters cool abilities! Fleshmech! It plays similar, whatwith a focus on tactical grid combat. They had to be a little more defining though (in my opinion) since they're deeper linked to your character's identity instead of being the vehicle (I know mechs are representative of the character's qualities but shhh). Like if a license wasn't suiting you in LANCER you switch out, but you can't really do that with your ICON...? wrong! You can eventually level up to unlock access to more jobs and switch between them on adventures. You'll get access to some of the features of your other jobs while having a main one, so it's not unlike mismatching mechs and their weapons. It's been a while since I read this, somewhere around the 20th, but I can remember keenly that my favorite class was some sort of hedgemage sort, where they came naturally into their power and it's extremely volatile. Great system, great art, great ideas. Would run this some time Not much to talk about in regards to RM:SS, as like I said I ended up skimming it. I'm more of a fan of RM:C and as a result the information felt... like 'different' but not different enough for me to like it individually from classic. It's not bad! Just, I like RM:C more because of the organization. Classic is a 'newer' version of Standard System, and really the main difference is how the books are laid out. There's some math differences too, but the reality is there's no HUGE changes as far as I could tell. We don't have fighter missing and replaced with "the Whacker", who has the ability to always critically hit on unarmed attacks to 'whack' the enemy to death. Good books! I probably wouldn't recommend WWN to read just because obviously I can't give a good impression besides the art, but ICON has left a great mark on me. It's a good chaser after I read BEACON the month before too. Rolemaster: Classic is a great read too, maybe read Standard and see if you have more of an opinion than me.

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hello! It's Winter! I missed the blog so much! Here is a new story.

Title: Home

He was finishing up his homework in the school’s library, not quite ready to go back to the place he dreaded most. 

Home. 

He purposely walked the extra-long route to the main entrance of the school, knowing he’d have to pass by her office. He stopped dead in his tracks when he got closer, hearing the faint sounds of two individuals casually conversing. 

Not wanting to be seen, he got close enough to the doorway so he could listen in.  

“I’ll see you tomorrow, and don’t worry, you’ll be fine! I’ve seen great improvement since you joined my program. I’m very proud of you.” Emmanuel continued to eavesdrop, his heart exploding with adoration as she encouraged the young man. 

The student thanked his teacher again before quickly heading out of the office, almost knocking Emmanuel off his feet. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t see you!” 

“It’s fine, Charles. See you tomorrow.”   

Charles was one of the more popular boys in school. If Emmanuel wasn’t almost perfect himself, he would have been threatened by this guy’s intelligence, athletic build, and strong physical features. Fortunately for Emmanuel, Charles had a shy personality, visibly nervous and constantly stuttering around cute females. 

Charles took off down the hall, the sound of his whistling getting softer as he got closer to the exit. 

“Emmanuel, you can come in now. I know you’re still standing there.” Brigitte called out with a laugh.  

“Hi Madame,” he whispered, suddenly appearing in her line of sight. “I didn’t know you were staying late tonight. It’s Tuesday. Doesn’t Tiphaine have dance class?” 

He had already memorized her children’s extracurricular schedule (and everything else that was important in her life.) 

Brigitte playfully rolled her eyes before stepping closer to him. “No, it got cancelled this week, which worked out perfectly for Charles.” 

He cringed upon hearing that student’s name on her lips, an annoyed facial expression evident on his face - even though Charles was not confident enough to try something with Brigitte. 

“You don’t have to be jealous. I am just doing my job.” She explained calmly. 

In his eyes, Brigitte was the perfect woman, and any man would be willing to jump through hoops and walk through fire to be with her. Sometimes Emmanuel felt - and feared - she would be taken away from him. 

She wasn’t even his…yet he was afraid of losing her. 

Knowing the school was visibly empty by now, he approached her more closely, smelling the scent of her sweet perfume. “You look beautiful in your new dress.” 

“You don’t have to flatter me,” she blushed, knowing she must have looked like hell after a long day at work. 

He grabbed her possessively by the waist and kissed her exposed neck. Once he made his intentions clear, he shoved her into the desk, her back painlessly hitting the wood surface. Their tongues found each other and not before long, she felt his hand under her dress. She worked just as fast, untucking his sweater from his jeans. “I think someone is coming,” she moaned. 

“Just you,” he joked.

“No!” She pushed him away when the footsteps she heard a few seconds earlier began to approach faster. He straightened his sweater and wiped her pink-coloured lipstick off his lips. 

“Will that be everything, Emmanuel? I must get home to my family.” 

“One day you’ll be coming home to me.” He promised with a whisper.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she replied. “Come on, let’s go. I’ll drive you home.” 

Home.

He hated that place more than anything. He let his mind wander, picturing how his future would be with the woman beside him. Unless he was sharing a life with her, no place would ever feel like home. 

Hello Winter! ❤️

Home is where the heart is. And there’s only one home for the sweet potato… with Brigitte!

The little hot moment shared at her office… 🤭😏

Thank you so much, Winter! ❤️❤️❤️

[lu-is-not-ok]

hey, it's me again. the guy with the OC.

before I try and reveal my reasoning for a new ID lineup, what do you think someone with a wrath/envy/sloth spread would be like?

Well, let's take a look~

Under cut because I went into way more detail than was necessary on some of this, whoops!

Wrath as a Skill 1 is interesting, as it's a little hard to find common ground between the IDs who have it as Skill 1. I mean, Base Ishmael, Shi Don, Chef Ryoshu, Rabbit Heathcliff, Zwei Rodya, BL Outis, and Liu Gregor are certainly a group, aren't they?

I think the best way I can describe S1 Wrath is as surface level dissatisfaction or opposition about something in one's current position. Ishmael is not satisfied with how her voyage ended, still searching for survivors and That Bastard despite most of them likely being dead, in a way almost defying her own urge to stay logical at all cost. Shi Don is noticeably angered by how the Shi higher-ups treat her Section, and is willing to stand up to this mistreatment to defend her subordinates. Chef Ryoshu does not enjoy working with Gregor, but she's willing to put up with him until she's able to join the Eight Chefs and completely abandon her current "lesser" position. Zwei Rodya is notably not that happy with the kind of job the Section she belongs to handles, being really good at stealthily following her client yet really disliking the boredom the lack of action causes. BL Outis got to where she is by defying and striking down her former mentor, and is in this odd position of being a "leader" figure to a Syndicate that generally does not conform to traditional hierarchies, making her role stand out as unusual for Blade Lineage. Liu Gregor seems to not really enjoy doing his job, often asking to take breaks and hang back instead of actually working hard, to the point straining himself is enough for him to come up with "a week's worth of excuses".

Rabbit Heathcliff is a little bit different though. Unlike all the other S1 Wrath Identities, R Heathcliff isn't actually dissatisfied with or opposed to anything in his position. If anything, he seems to enjoy himself much more than the other Heathcliff IDs. He's sort of an exception that solidifies the rule, I think. R Heathcliff is shown to be energetic to an almost obsessive degree - he wakes up early and stays up late into the night, he's constantly asking to be sent on more missions if he has nothing to do, and even his Uptie story compares his state to a form of intoxication. In his case, Wrath could represent a sort of defiance against his own body's natural limits, if that makes any sense.

Now, Envy as Skill 2. We actually have two base Sinners in this category - Yi Sang and Don Quixote. Besides that we also have Shi Don, Chef Ryoshu, Reindeer Ishmael, Mariachi Sinclair, Molar Sinclair, and Rosespanner Gregor.

The first and widest interpretation of S2 Envy here is as a representation of how deeply these characters are affected and influenced by the people around them. Yi Sang was completely crushed by the League falling apart, leading to him becoming passive and listening to what other people told him to do without question. Don Quixote seems to care a lot about how she's percieved, constantly announcing herself and justifying her actions, as if to make it painfully clear that she's a heroic, just figure, and being notably hurt when accused of insincerity. Shi Don specifically cares a lot about her subordinates and how they see her, defending them at all cost and putting on a much more happier facade around them (something she notably doesn't do when all alone). Mariachi Sinclair only truly takes up the mantle of the Jefe/Leader when pushed in the right direction by the rest of the Mariachis, being noted as usually meek and anxious but completely changing his attitude and entering "boss mode" when told it's time for the pañata party. Molar Sinclair is defined by his role in the Molar Office, having issues with finding what he should do due to the other Molar Office members already being able to handle what he could but better, leaving him feeling inadequate and unable to contribute in a meaningful way.

There's also a second, more specific interpretation that I'd like to point out, due to it being applicable to at least two of the IDs - interpretation of S2 Envy as seeking approval from society. Both Chef Ryoshu and Rosespanner Gregor seek to be recognised for their skills and creations on a much wider scale. Chef Ryoshu wishes to become part of the Eight Chefs, to have her Culinary Arts be appreciated by the City as a whole. Similarly, Rosespanner Gregor wishes for his invention, his prosthetic arm that could double as a workshop product, to be approved for a patent by the Tres Association and mass-produced, leading to his machine being used by far more people.

And just like with S1 Wrath, we have an outlier here as well. R Ishmael doesn't neatly fit either category, though that could be because of just how little we learn about her. We know she's seeking more information about R Corp, specifically the potential old R Corp and its Singularity, because of it being a potential lead to something else she's searching on, but we don't get to know what that is. We only learn that it's not something enjoyable to talk about. I think R Ishmael's S2 Envy could hint towards that being connected to other people. It could be that she was set on this search by someone else, or the "thing" she's seeking is actually a person (which would be on brand for Ishmael)... We just don't know enough to say for sure right now.

Ironically enough, Sloth as Skill 3 is the easiest one to describe - it represents utter resignation with one's place in life. S3 Sloth Identities are ones that don't have a lot of control in their lifes, deferring to the role they're given regardless of what they think or feel about it. They may not like this situation, and some may even performatively try to fight back, but in the end, they will back down and passively follow what they're "supposed" to do.

So, for the assessment of a Wrath/Envy/Sloth... It gives me the image of someone who's not enjoying the position they're in, who likely complains a lot. Perhaps the part they're specifically dissatisfied in is how the other people they work alongside are treated. Or, on the flipside, other people could be the oppresive force here, and this character might be dissatisfied because of that. However, despite complaining and acting like they wish for a change, deep inside they're resigned to their lot in life. Perhaps they're aware that, just like their coworkers, they're just another cog in the machine. Or perhaps they're too passive to truly stand up for themselves beyond making the ocassional excuse.

Hope this helps!

[strictpleasure]

Easy, Uneasy

My ex-girlfriend, Emily, had been offered a job abroad. She loved the city she was living in and hated to leave her friends behind. She asked me if I could move with her so that she would not feel lonely and we could face the hardships together. We would set up the flat together.

I was initially excited about the idea of living with Emily, but as we talked more and more, she let me know that she has no romantic interest in me, and will still be seeing other men. Even though I had real feelings for her, to Emily I was nothing more than a close pal to split the rent and life with.

After some careful consideration, I decided to accept her offer and become her platonic roommate. We found an amazing apartment close to the city centre with lots of natural light, and plenty of space for both of us. We bought matching furniture for our living room and bedroom, got a little plant each for our desks, and made sure the kitchen had all the necessary appliances.

We put a few specific guidelines in place. Emily was allowed to bring home friends and dates, but I promised to keep my own visitors to a minimum - ideally zero. I wanted her to be able to experience the joys of dating without being constantly reminded of me. It made me happy to see her looking for excitement and pleasure in her life.

We soon got comfortable with living together and began to truly appreciate each other's company. We would cook dinner together, go out for drinks on weekends, and watch Netflix when we felt like being lazy. We even went on day trips around the city together, exploring all its hidden gems.

Our friendly relationship blossomed and grew deeper with time. As we started living together, we grew closer and decided to hang out outside of our house too. She found liberation in sharing about all the guys she was interested in, and I listened carefully, giving my opinion so that she could find the perfect companion.

We both developed an appreciation for one another's interests - Emily helped me practice my photography skills by posing in various locations while I taught her how to properly take care of our indoor plants. She was using the photos on her social media to attract more interest. I was trying to make the best pictures of her.

After months of living together, Emily finally found her perfect companion and we celebrated their first date. We had a quiet dinner at a small Italian restaurant in the city centre, where I was glad to see just how happy she was with him. As they walked away holding hands, I felt content knowing that even though I wasn't her love interest, I could still be there for her during this journey of self-discovery. Her new boyfriend complimented me for being a good friend and an understanding roommate.

Living with Emily and her new boyfriend Mike had become a unique and beautiful experience. Mike came over for dinner or drinks, the atmosphere changed completely. His cheerful presence filled the house with joy and laughter - something that was sorely missing before. I loved how his enthusiasm for life pushed Emily to try new things and take risks she wouldn't have taken otherwise.

On their regular visits, Emily and Mike would stay up late talking about their days while I watched from the sidelines with a smile on my face. Even though it was still strange being around someone else besides her in our home, I felt content knowing that we were all sharing this special moment together. Watching them talk and laugh made me feel like I was part of something bigger - like a family. It also reaffirmed my decision to move in with Emily and share this amazing journey with her every step of the way! As our cozy home started to really come alive, I decided to take it upon myself to make sure that it stayed in pristine condition for our guests. I took care of the regular chores like cleaning up after meals, changing bedsheets, and tidying up the living room daily. On special occasions when we knew Mike was coming over, I'd go a step further by cooking a nice dinner or baking some homemade treats for us all to enjoy. It made me happy to see them smiling as they ate my creations - even if it meant spending hours on end slaving away in the kitchen!

As time went on, it became clear that there was something special between them. They started seeing each other exclusively and soon enough, Mike moved in with us. We welcomed him with open arms and were glad to have another person share the rent and the joys of living together.

We all worked hard to adjust to our new living arrangements - Emily spent a lot of time helping Mike settle in while I made sure both of them had everything they needed. We have been living together ever since, and I am glad that even though we are not romantically involved, our friendship is still as strong as it was when we first met. We continue to share meals, laughter and conversations about our days. In the end, I'm thankful for her offer to move in with her - it allowed us both to experience a unique kind of companionship that neither of us would've experienced otherwise.

But there was on thing. Mike was uneasy about his girlfriend living with a male. He suggested that I showcase my more feminine tendencies and dress as a woman rather than a man. In this manner, he would be the only masculine figure in the flat, feeling secure in his power. I agreed to the idea, mentioning that I had already worn women's clothing before.

Mike enjoyed making me wear women clothing at home. It was like living in a bordello. Mike, now the husband of the house and Emily his wife, ordered me around all day long, as if I were his maid. He used to tell on me if I wasn't wearing my lipstick or if I didn't fluff the pillows at bedtime. Just thinking about it made me shudder.

But as time went on, I found myself enjoying the idea of dressing up in women's clothing more and more. I loved the feeling of the silk stockings against my skin and the way the dresses hugged my curves. It was like a secret escape from my mundane life - a way to express myself in a way that I couldn't before.

Mike began to take an intense interest in my clothing and appearance, and started to buy me all sorts of outfits. He would take me out shopping for new dresses and lingerie, his eyes dancing with delight at the thought of seeing me in the garments he had chosen. Though I was initially hesitant, I soon let myself be guided by Mike's tastes, eagerly trying on whatever he picked out for me and watching as his face lit up with pleasure when I did.

It quickly became clear that my wardrobe wasn't just about clothes - it was about control. Mike started to order me around like a servant, demanding that I wear women's attire while performing housework for him and Emily. I would cook them breakfast while wearing frilly lace aprons and pour their afternoon teas into delicate china cups. They would sit at the table, praising me for fulfilling their wishes so perfectly. Although it felt strange at first, being told what to do without question, there was a certain sense of relief in not having to think or make choices for myself. Serving Mike gave me an odd sense of fulfillment. Mike started to be more dominant with me

, taking charge of not just my clothing but my entire being. He would assign me tasks that were demeaning and sometimes even painful, but I found myself becoming addicted to the feeling of submission. His touch was rough and possessive, as he explored my body with his hands and mouth, making me gasp and writhe with pleasure.

I had never experienced anything like this before, but the thrill of it all was too much to resist. Mike became my everything - my master, my lover, my tormentor. I was completely under his spell.

I was losing myself in his control, becoming a puppet to his every whim.

Mike was pushing my limits and testing my boundaries. I found myself wanting more - more of his commands, more of his attention, more of his touch. And he was more than willing to give it to me.

One evening, as Emily was away on business, Mike led me up to the bedroom and ordered me to undress. He watched with a predatory look in his eyes as I stripped down to nothing, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable. But I couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through my body - the anticipation of what was to come.

Mike pulled out a box from under the bed, filled with all sorts of toys and restraints. He took out a pair of handcuffs and fastened them around my wrists, securing them to the headboard. I was his prisoner now, at his mercy.

He began to explore my body with his hands, touching me in ways that made me moan with pleasure. I had never felt so alive, so wanted, so owned.

[sapphyreopal5]

Gen actually answered a question about her exploiting her kids on a podcast 4 years ago. Question was : “How do you create boundaries for your kids in the public eye?” Gen's answer was: “Great question. I don’t put them in things they’re uncomfortable with. This isn’t their job. I’m careful with making them the butt of the joke. When they look back, are they going to think I’m exploiting them? Tom hates it. I just want to represent my family well.”

This is also the only podcast & interview she mentions having a nanny for her kids. Besides that one time, she acts like she does it all herself. She constantly complains about never having "me time" or time away from the kids. She has had a nanny since Tom was days old & she was unemployed in 2012. Jared said at Pittsburgh Con 2017 main panel that they had multiple nannies & babysitters.

Jared at 7:58

youtube*com/watch?v=9bitftPqEhY

One of the nannies with Tom & Shep on May 28th 2017.

64*media*tumblr*com/fb7e151df8d4428aa3b06cd1db5334b0/tumblr_inline_p34zhmT4R91vx9qhi_640*png

Gen

“We have someone who helps us with our family and it would be a disservice to say I do it alone. My husband travels a lot for work so I am alone. I can 100% take care of my kids but I need help so I can do everything I want. I don’t know how we would get work done without help. I can’t imagine doing it alone. I don’t want to put that image out there that I can do it all without support. We take on different kids on different schedules.”

art19(.)com/shows/being-bumo/episodes/3e830086-f9f8-4de9-8172-dd485b4c9cc3

In this same interview, she says these things:

“My chore growing up was to ‘ride a horse’.”

“I don’t want to tell my husband something and set him off...”

“We had issues for a while. He’d be the fun dad on the weekend: load the kids up with sugar, let them stay up late, and let them watch movies I would never allow.”

“When he got home it was like having a sleepover with your friend. We have never really lived together. I was shocked, I shouldn’t say shocked, I was surprised that he picked up the slack.”

You should check out her other podcast interviews. She has said some really interesting, to say the least, things over the years.

Hello Anon, I am very grateful for this info. There are so many panels to keep track of it's very difficult to even recall what year, which panel, etc. something was said at unless there's a post of it somewhere or someone has a specific one saved for a particular reason. With this being said, I listened to this same panel a little bit ago but not this particular tidbit. It seems like it is in fact the same panel where Jensen made the joke of wanting just one more to make two kids but ended up getting two more, referencing his twins. For everyone's reference, I linked to that first video anon was kind enough to forward me the link to:

As for that first photo, that certainly can't be Gen! I'm going to listen to that Being Bumo podcast you sent me and will probably write another post about that one. I want to listen to the other podcasts that are out there but need to look into all of the ones she's done out there. Hopefully someone's got a consolidated list or something out there somewhere (or that she didn't do too many more that I need to find ha ha). I'll let you know my thoughts on it when I've listened to the whole thing.

“Great question. I don’t put them in things they’re uncomfortable with. This isn’t their job. I’m careful with making them the butt of the joke. When they look back, are they going to think I’m exploiting them? Tom hates it. I just want to represent my family well.”

Well well well, so Tom DOES hate being in the public eye as others have said. Thank you for providing a quote and the source from which people are deriving this conclusion. Representing your family well and treating your family well are two different things. I feel like she can be extremely tone deaf and it shows in statements like this.

“We have someone who helps us with our family and it would be a disservice to say I do it alone. My husband travels a lot for work so I am alone. I can 100% take care of my kids but I need help so I can do everything I want. I don’t know how we would get work done without help. I can’t imagine doing it alone. I don’t want to put that image out there that I can do it all without support. We take on different kids on different schedules.”

“We had issues for a while. He’d be the fun dad on the weekend: load the kids up with sugar, let them stay up late, and let them watch movies I would never allow.” “When he got home it was like having a sleepover with your friend. We have never really lived together. I was shocked, I shouldn’t say shocked, I was surprised that he picked up the slack.”

Thus the highlighting the WANT tidbit. It seems Gen predictably so grew up with privilege and therefore wanted to maintain the status quo by marrying within her social class. Seems rather typical if you ask me. As for Jared "picking up the slack", well it certainly keeps the peace at home. Happy wife, happy life they say. I'm not sure why she was at all surprised, don't know your husband well enough to know he isn't useless unlike what he's said about himself before?

“I don’t want to tell my husband something and set him off...”

I'm not sure what in the hell she is saying with that but well, I will probably have to hear the whole podcast to get a better feel for the context. If it was an open ended statement like I'm halfway expecting it to be, I will say I can speculate on this being about another breakdown or whatever. Is she walking on eggshells with this emotional state? Sounds very much not a positive thing to say about him for sure. Again I need to listen to that entire podcast and I'm sure I'll piggy back off of this one when I have a chance.

[angry-geese]

Can I request nsfw+fluff gojo x fem!reader? (established relationships) Just gojo being horny and needy after weeks not seeing reader due to work. (Uuuu and may I add breeding kink too <3 ) Lmaooo what's wrong with me✋🏻😔 I love your works btw and just take your time💕💕 here *slides a cookie 🍪 *

YESSSS gojo + breeding kink is top tier. i got a little carried away with this one lol

When We Meet Again

Gojo Satoru x Reader

Warnings: shameless smut. oral (fem receiving), creampies, mating press, unprotected sex, fingering, fluff and smut. slight somnophilia (kinda??) fem!reader

Word Count: 3.7k

jjk masterlist

It's well past midnight by the time he gets home.

Save for a single light in the kitchen, the apartment is dark. Leftover pastries sit out on the counter, covered with a bowl to keep bugs from getting to them, alongside your keys, and an empty mug of tea. A grocery list has been stuck to the fridge. A rack of dishes sits beside the sink, drying.

You're not in your usual spot on the couch. He's not surprised. It's late. And though you don't have work in the morning, you were never one to stay up so long. You must have gone to bed already. You might have stayed up had he bothered to tell you he was coming home. But he didn't. His plans changed at the last moment, and not even he knew he'd be back so soon.

He hates being gone this long. He misses sleeping in his own bed. Sometimes he forgets just how cold a bed can be without someone else in it.

The door to your shared room is open. Though it's dark. There's a faint green glow from the alarm clock on the side table. The moon is full enough tonight to provide a bit of light; a pale silver glow fills the room. And there you are, curled up on his side of the bed. In one of his shirts. A black button up that’s a bit too big for you, with sleeves that hang well past your fingertips.

It's not like he can refuse. If he’s getting called out to help, then there's probably not someone who can go in his place. The strongest doesn't really have time to take a vacation. He’s on call 24/7. Between his teaching job at Jujutsu Tech, and the major clans of Jujutsu society constantly demanding his attention, he’s rather short on free time.

It was a tedious job. Not worth his time. Not particularly tough, albeit time consuming. But the previous two sorcerers came back with nothing. And so he was sent out. Cleaning up someone else's mess.

The first week he called every day. The job wasn’t supposed to take any longer than that. Or so you both assumed. As the second rolled through, your calls grew shorter, and less frequent. He found himself frustrated with the lack of contact. It wasn't either of your faults. Your work called for you to be out during the little free time he had. Overtime. When you did have time to call each other, you were often exhausted, and short with him. The distance was putting a strain on your relationship.

The worst part of it all; he couldn't fuck you. And for a man that could go multiple rounds in a day, that was miserable. His love language is touch. Not being able to hold you was… well, miserable.

You don't really know the extent of the effect you have on him.

He's too tired to change, and he showered before he left, so he strips to his boxers and pulls his side of the blankets aside. Tomorrow is laundry day anyway. You always choose Sundays for laundry day, because that's the day before you have to go back to work. There's just enough room between you and the edge of the bed for him to slip in.

When something makes him stop dead in his tracks.

It's your voice. You’re calling out his name. You aren't awake, and though you do sometimes talk in your sleep, tonight is different. When it does happen, it's usually nonsense. Soft, endearing babble that he can't help but listen to. He says your name, softly, but you don't respond. Enough moonlight streams in through the window to see your face. Your brows are knit in concentration—possibly frustration—and sweat beads in your hairline.

Are you having a nightmare?

The bed dips under his weight as he sits, resting a hand on your thigh. Your skin is rather warm, he notes. You roll over onto your side, burying your face in his pillow. He pulls the blankets up, tucking them around your shoulders, as you’ve kicked them down by your feet in your sleep.

There it is again. You say his name, but there's a level of desperation behind it.

There's no denying the wetness between your thighs. You squeeze your thighs together in an unconscious attempt to get some relief. Your breathing is labored.

It's only a moment later that the realization kicks in.

The grin that splits his face can only be described as malicious in nature.

His hand creeps higher on your thigh, nudging the hem of your—his—shirt up. You’re not wearing anything underneath. The sight of your slick cunt is nearly enough to make his cock stand to attention.

His gaze falls to the curve of your hips, just barely illuminated by the moonlight. He likes the light of you in his shirt a little more than he likes to admit. Though he’s never been quiet about how much he appreciates your body.

Your body freezes the moment his thumb grazes across your slit. So does he. You’re so wet. Must be a real nice dream. You roll onto your back, your legs parted slightly. The soft gasps and moans that leave you are like music to his ears. Gojo takes this as an invitation to continue, his hand moving further up your thigh, lazily tracing circles into it.

You must've missed him more than he expected.

Your body registers that someone is touching you before it registers just who is doing such. In your sleepy, dream-ridden state you don't recognize the figure in front of you. In the dim light of the room, you can make out a mess of white hair, and the reflection of dark, round glasses shoved up into his hairline. Gojo’s eyes practically reflect in the dark.

You jolt awake, sitting up. “Jesus christ-”

“‘S just me, Mochi,” he says, though it does little to settle your nerves.

If you weren't awake before, you certainly are now.

“What? You watch people in their sleep now?!” You scold. “‘Toru- you scared the hell out of me!”

You flop back on the bed. The blankets pool around your hips. You reach to pull them back up, finding your bed colder than usual.

"You were calling out my name." He says.

"Oh," you say, and though there's little light in the room, he watches your face flush, "must have been dreaming about you."

“Wanna recreate what you were dreaming?” He asks. Rather smugly, might you add.

You roll your eyes. “Go to sleep.”

"Scoot over then. I'm gonna fall off the bed."

This prompts an evil sounding giggle from you, followed by a: "fall then."

"Alright," he says, rolling over to lay on you, throwing his arm around your waist. You’re effectively pinned under him, as the awkward angle won't allow you any leverage to throw him off. He attacks the exposed part of your neck with kisses, sucking hickeys into the flesh of your neck and shoulders. His hair tickles your skin.

“‘Toru- stop!” You squeal. “Let me go-”

“Not until you apologize,” he says, planting a wet kiss on your jaw.

“Never!”

“Then I guess I won't let you go.”

His arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you flush to his chest. One of his hands finds your own, his fingers lacing with yours. His legs tangle with yours in a way that holds them in place. Worming out of his grip in this position would be a near impossible task.

You suppose there’s worse fates than this.

It would be easier to stay awake if he wasn't so warm. Or if he didn't smell so nice. Or if he wasn't softly rocking your body with each breath he takes. His thumb traces soft circles around your knuckles. Gojo’s breath is warm against your neck, making goosebumps rise along the soft flesh. The steady sound of it is almost enough to lull you to sleep.

"I missed you." You say. Your voice is almost too soft to hear.

“I know.” He says. His arms give your midsection a reaffirming squeeze. “I missed you too.”

“How was work?”

“A shitshow,” he says, leaning to nip at your earlobe, “but I get to come home to you, so it’s not all bad. How’s everything been around here?”

“Quiet.” You say. “Kinda boring without you. I wish you told me you’d be home tonight. I would have done something special.”

“It was a spur of the moment decision.” He says. “I didn't expect to be home so soon either.”

“We should do something tomorrow, then,” you say, “a new ramen place opened up down the street. You know where the old bakery used to be? They leased the place out.”

Gojo hums in response. Ramen sounds nice. Especially now. But he’s too tired and too horny to worry about food. Why have ramen when he has a meal right in front of him? Or a snack, as he often likes to call you. To which you roll your eyes, but there's no denying how he makes you blush.

You take back what you said about finding it easy to sleep. He’s moving around a bit too much for that. Gojo isn't subtle about it either. Nothing about the man is. He foregos subtly in favor of announcing nearly everything he does. Loudly. Who would dare stop him?

But you guess it's part of his charm. His dorky, sappy charm. You’ve kind of signed up for it, so you’re not complaining.

You scoot away from the edge of the bed a bit, thinking he needs more room. Gojo pulls you back to his chest, thinking you’re trying to run away from him.

“Quit squirming.” You hiss.

“Sorry Mochi,” he says, “just tryna get comfortable.”

And he really does mean it. But he’s been gone from you for so long that he's forgotten how nice your body feels against his. A little too nice, he’ll admit. Phone sex is nice, but it's not the same as the real thing. It gets old after a while. His hand doesn't quite compare to yours. Or the real thing. Something hard presses against your thigh from behind.

That's when it clicks. You just smell so nice. Your body is so warm against his. You look so nice in his shirt. Can you really blame him for getting hard?

You aren't sure he knows that you know. You shift a bit. It appears you’re only trying to get comfortable. His grip around your waist loosens, allowing you to settle a bit closer to him. You can't help it if your shirt rides up a bit, exposing the perfect curve of your ass. He prefers you in nothing at all, though the sight of you wearing his clothes is certainly a nice one. Any sight of you is. Gojo is shameless in the way he adores your body.

Once settled, his arms return to your waist. His head falls into the crook of your neck. He’s doing little to hide the tent he sports in his boxers. Maybe he thinks you don't notice. Or maybe he’s trying to ignore it.

“Stop that,” he says.

“I'm not doing anything,” you say, with the same evil giggle as before.

“Why do I not believe you?”

His lips find your neck, sucking a dark mark into your pulsepoint. The sudden sensation of lips on your neck makes you squeal. In your ear he coos every sappy nickname in the book that makes you blush.

You hardly notice as his hand trails lower. Your legs part just enough for him to slip his hand between them. He does nothing but seek out your warmth. Yet.

A familiar tension returns to your stomach. It's not unpleasant.

So that's what he was doing. Not that you’re complaining.

“Missed you, Mochi,” he says, gasping at the wet feeling of your cunt, “missed you so much. You have any clue what it's like being around all those weird old men all day? For days on end, no end in sight?”

It always surprises you just how bad the man can be with words, yet how good he is with his mouth.

His fingers find your clit, drawing lazy circles around the bundle of nerves. Your breath catches in your throat. You can't deny how nice his long fingers feel inside of you.

“Seems like you’ve missed me too.” He says, his breath warm against your ear.

“Whatever you want to think, old man,” you say. Though you have missed him. You always do. But there's some fun to be had by teasing him.

“Old man?!” He sounds genuinely hurt. “Don't be like that. I know you like having me around.”

“Oh really? What makes you think that?”

His fingers move to press into the tight entrance of your cunt, his thumb brushing across your clit. The soft gasp that leaves you is practically music to his ears. To give him credit, he is good with his hands.

“Did you think about me while I was gone,” he coos, “did you touch yourself while you did it? I did. Couldn't keep my mind off this sweet cunt of yours. I think I want a taste.”

Your only response is a soft moan. Heat pools low in your stomach, growing in intensity with each skilled movement of his hand. He moves so you can lay on your back. Your hands find the sheets, holding them in a death grip. Gojo nudges your legs further apart with one of his knees.

The kiss he pulls you into is uncharacteristically soft, and needy. He moans nearly as loud as you when you nibble on his bottom lip, hips lips parting, allowing the strong muscle of your tongue to explore his mouth.

Your hands work to undo the top few buttons of your shirt, exposing your breasts. His free hand comes up to grope appreciatively at your tits. Gojo has never been shy about how much he adores them. Or shy ever, to his credit. You’re his, and he would show you off to the world if you’d let him.

But sometimes he prefers to steal you into his domain, and hold you there. Close. Where you’ll always be at his side. The one place in this universe he can truly promise you’ll be safe.

You hardly notice as his kisses trail down your neck. Down the valley between your breasts. Working the last few buttons of your shirt open with his long fingers. What you do notice is the sudden absence of his hand.

Your legs part to give him room to settle between them. His head rests on your stomach. His warm breath tickles your skin.

"You gonna let me have a taste?" He asks, nipping at your thigh.

You swallow hard, eyes locked on him. Slowly, you nod.

You gasp at the feeling of his warm tongue, licking a stripe from your bellybutton to your mound. He's not touching you where you need him most. And that frustrates you. You buck your hips up towards his mouth, eliciting a soft laugh from him. He can't tease you too long. His cock is painfully hard, leaking against his thigh in his boxers. He can only hold himself back for so long.

You freeze at the feeling of a hot tongue against your clit.

Gojo eats pussy like a starving man, presented with his favorite meal. He does nothing short of savoring you. How you smell, how you taste, how you sound. He's shameless in how he adores this. Gojo moans nearly as loud as you at the taste of your cunt. Sweeter than his favorite dish. Meant to be savored.

You can't deny that he's good with his mouth. His tongue works circles around your clit, drawing gasps and moans from you.

Heat builds in your stomach, drawing you closer to your impending orgasm. One that comes upon you far sooner than expected.

Maybe you’re more pent up than you thought.

Your thighs clench around his head as you cum hard. He lets you ride out your orgasm on his tongue, working you through it with his skilled mouth. He’d stay with his head between your legs forever if you’d let him. Which you don't, as overstimulation soon registers in your lust addled mind, and you shove his head away.

The lower half of his face glistens in the dim light, wet with saliva, and your own slick. He’s far from subtle in the way he licks his lips, or groans at your taste. He may have gotten a bit too excited. It's not unlike him to get carried away. How can he resist a fertile cunt like yours?

“I think you should taste yourself,” he says. His hands move to cup your face as he pulls you into a kiss. You taste yourself on his lips. His hardened cock grinds against his thigh.

“‘Toru-” you whine.

“What's the matter baby?” He coos. “Use your words.”

“Fuck me.” You say. “I need you, ‘Toru. I need your cock in me.”

“Why didn't you say so?” He says, though the desperation in his voice is palpable.

He wastes no time in shoving his boxers down his hips, freeing his cock.

He’s not the most intimidating in size, but his cock is nice, and fairly thick, with a slight upward curve. The patch of hairs towards the base are soft, and white. Generally you don't need a whole lot of prep to take him. Which is helpful when he can't keep his hands to himself, and insists on fucking you in the bathroom during dinner. As much as he likes to take his time with you, he’ll take you anywhere you’ll let him. At work, or over every flat surface of your apartment. Not a single room of your home was spared. Not that either of you mind.

“Gotta work you open first,” he says, “don't want you to be too tight, do we?”

Between his saliva, and your own slick, you put up little resistance. He’s able to slide one finger in. Then a second, with no issue. His fingers curve, stroking your g-spot. His thumb works soft circles around your sensitive clit as he works you open with his fingers. Really, this is unnecessary. Your cunt is practically dripping with your own arousal.

He makes a show of licking his fingers, groaning at the taste of you. Gojo really has no shame.

The moan he lets out as he sheathes himself is truly sinful.

It's another moment before he starts thrusting.

Gojo needs a moment to collect himself. He’s been working himself up for hours if not days. All the nights he spent, thinking of what he’d do to you once he got home. He’s gone over this day in his head about a hundred times.

The sound of his hips slapping against yours fills the room. His taunts turn into senseless babble. Strands of praise mixed with Gojo’s overall dorky remarks. Pleas of your name, calling you mochi, baby, honey, and every other sappy nickname he can think of. His head falls into the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking at the soft skin. He’s not going to let you leave this bed until you’re thoroughly marked up.

Tension grows in your stomach like a rubber band being stretched tight. Your previous orgasm has left you overly sensitive, and leaves another orgasm creeping up on you sooner than expected. His hand falls to your stomach, working lower until his thumb finds your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub.

He presses your legs further back, shoving them almost to your chest. The stretch leaves a pleasant burn in your hips. Your body isn't really meant to bend this way, though it’s not completely uncomfortable. It's not long before he has you into a full mating press, rutting against you desperately, fucking you into the mattress. The bed frame groans in protest with each of his thrusts. Deep, and unrelenting. Gojo’s cock curves in such a way that hits your sweet spots just right, leaving you writing under him.

“Gonna put a baby in you, Mochi,” he says, “gonna breed this pretty cunt of yours.”

You nod along desperately. You want nothing more than for him to cum inside, filling you completely.

He silences your moan with a kiss, his teeth clashing against yours. His tongue presses past your lips, exploring the wet cavern of your mouth. You can still taste yourself on him.

A line of saliva connects your lips as he pulls away.

“Not gonna ask you to take all of it,” he says, “but take everything I got.”

And with that, he can't hold back any longer, painting your womb white. Gojo’s cum is normally thick, and there's normally a lot of it. Today even moreso. Two weeks away hasn't helped with that. Cum runs down your thighs in streams, ruining your sheets.

The elders aren't going to be happy that he’s so reckless with his precious seed, but Gojo couldn't give a damn. The elders can talk all they want. That's all they're good for. He gets to cum in a warm place, and that's more than any of the others can say.

He practically collapses on top of you.

Gojo shifts so less of his body weight is on top of you. And though the room is rather warm, you find yourself nuzzling into his body, seeking out his warmth. His arms have always given you a sense of security, especially when wrapped up in them. They find your waist, pulling your back flush to his chest.

For a moment the two of you lay there, basking in each other's warmth.

You’ll have to get up in a bit anyway. To clean yourself up, and change the sheets. And get a new shirt. Probably another one of Gojo’s. He’s never been against seeing you wear his clothes. They never stay on you for long, though.

You pry his arms off, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, but he notices, and tightens his grip.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, sounding rather offended.

“To get a drink,” you say, “I'm thirsty. Why? Do you want one too?”

“You think I’d let you go after just one round?” He asks. “You’re not leaving this bed until I’ve fucked you full of my cum.”

You're in for a long night.

[bokuroskitten]

c-cockwarming with kuroo kenma bo ushi and iwa? 😳

I’ve got some real big brained anons asking me real big brained asks😌

ℌℭ ❦

〈 Kuroo, Kenma, Bokuto, Ushijima and Iwaizumi and how they like cockwarming

✵ genre: NSFW 18+ (Minors DNI)

✵ warnings: cockwarming, dom/sub dynamics (daddy, papa, & sir titles used), mentions of voyeurism

Kenma would have you warming him up all the time if he could, so every chance he gets he’s calling you over. Gaming, streaming, watching tv, doing just about anything, he loves sliding you down nice and slow on his cock. Your walls have been fit to his cock by now, so it’s always the perfect squeeze when you sit on him. Typically he’ll have you sit in his lap, back against his chest so you can do what you want as well, but mostly it’s so whenever he is live steaming he can suddenly thrust within you, watch the way you desperately try to keep your composure so the chat won’t start talking about how flushed you suddenly look.

“K-Kenma...” you murmur softly, feeling the warmth from your face slowly begin to spread along your chest. A smirk flickered over Kenma’s features, only for a brief moment, before he was back to that serious look, eyes glued to his game. “Yea babe?” He spoke, nonchalant as ever. That had your cheeks puffing up briefly, eyes darting from his game to the webcam that had the little green light on. You knew very well the stream was on, and considering the number in the bottom corner just kept steadily rising, you couldn’t just blurt out loud ‘Quit moving your hips’. Before you could even really get the thought out, Kenma knew, thrusting his hips up once more. One fluid motion of his body and his cock was hitting perfectly along your sweet spot. This time you couldn’t hold back the little Yelp that bubbled from your lips. Kenma had to laugh, quick to mute his mic as the chat began to pop off. He wouldn’t turn it off though. Oh no. He just got close to your ear, whispered in that voice he knew you loved.

“Better relax Kitten, or I’m gonna have to fuck you right here on stream. So sit pretty for me... unless my naughty girl wants it... you want it, baby?”

⋆⋆⋆

Kuroo is on his computer a lot, doing work and attending online meetings. He has set up a nice little office space for himself and he finds himself in there a little more than he likes. Especially since he has such a cute little kitty at home just waiting to be played with. Sometimes, when you just can’t stay away from him you poke your head in the door, the little mewl you let out making Kuroos brows twitch. Only a couple of pleas from your pretty lips has him caving. He likes when you straddle him, your little cunt fluttering so perfectly around his cock. He also likes how hard you cling to him, face in his neck and fingers getting lost in the hairs at the nape of his neck. Whenever he feels your hips begin to rock he’ll tsk, putting an easy stop to it.

“Kitty, don’t get greedy,” Kuroo speaks right beside your ear, goosebumps easily rising along your arms as you let out a needy whine. You hope it’s pretty enough to make Kuroo cave, or at least enough to make him let go of your hips. “P-Please Daddy, needa feel more of you in my cunny.” And it was true, you’re puffy walls were currently hugging him so perfectly, squeezing along his cock. Your legs tightened about his waist, wanting to add some friction to your clit that was currently throbbing for it. But Kuroo still had work to do, and even though your pleas made him weak at the knees, made his resolve wanna crumble so he could fuck you right here on the desk, he had to teach his pretty baby some patience. So he gave your rear a swat, a warning along with a hum.

“I know baby I know... your cunny is just fluttering like crazy around Daddy’s cock today. But just a little longer. So no more whining.”

You clung to him tighter, muffling your whines into the side of his neck and suckling the skin there instead. You stilled your hips though. Kuroo had to smile, fingers beginning to tap away at his keyboard again while your perfect velvet walls hugged his cock.

⋆⋆⋆

Part of Bokuto’s job was staying fit, considering he was constantly active out on the court. The gym he set up in your shared apartment was nothing short of impressive, and you couldn’t help poking in there while he was grunting away. Skin shining with sweat, muscles ripping as he lifted the next set of weights, you couldn’t help but lick your lips, or the little flood that happened between your thighs. Usually, Bokuto could wait until he was done, but sometimes you just looked too good, so desperate and needy as you clung to that door frame, basically drooling at him. He would take a seat, pulling you into his lap.

“12...13...14...” Bokuto’s voice was strained in the best possible way, his chest fluttering as you suddenly clenched down around him. He slowly lowered the weights to his sides a grin growing on his face as he felt your little nails dig deeper into his thighs. He pressed up into you, grin growing at the yelp you released. You could feel your cheeks heat up, pussy desperately milking his cock when it slapped against your cervix. “P-Papa!” You whined, looking back at him with tears swimming in your pretty eyes. “‘M sorry pretty Birdy... sometimes I can’t help but tease you when this perfect little cunt is squeezing me so good.” He pressed a few kisses along your cheeks, before he took hold of your jaw, forced your eyes back on the mirror in front of the two of you. “But Papa needs more motivation so he finishes his workout. So spread so legs back open, wanna see your pussy splitting.” And you had no choice but to listen, only thinking of how he’d pin you to the mirrors later to fuck you stupid. So you lulled your legs back open, biting your lip as he moaned at the sight of your stuffed hole.

“Perfect...” he breathed, keeping his eyes glued to the reflection as he hauled the weights back up to continue his count.

⋆⋆⋆

Ushijima isn’t much for PDA. Those little touches you always give him, running those pretty fingers along toned arms in public. It’s just too much for him. But Ushijima is a collected man, knows how to hold himself back. And know very well you’re doing it all on purpose. You’re his pretty baby, after all, he knows how you like to tease, pressing into his side on the subway or leaning down to look at something with a skirt that’s just a little too short. Ushi knows, when the two of you get home, your frame already vibrating with excitement, he had no problem pulling you onto his cock.

“More... more Sir....” the whine you release around his fingers as he stuffs them between your lips is high pitched, almost a little offended as tears swirl in your gaze. But Ushijima doesn’t budge, doesn’t move one inch other than his long fingers which are now pumping in your mouth. Your left whimpering around him, his cock throbbing within your walls and stretching you open without even moving an inch. “Maybe if you hadn’t been so handsy today and just asked for some dick like a good girl, you wouldn’t be in this position.” Ushijima huffed out, brows knitting together at the mess of drool that already started to bubble down your chin and around his knuckles. “But because you can’t keep your hands to yourself, you’re gonna keep my cock warm until I feel like fucking, are we clear.”

He knew you couldn’t respond, but the mewl you release as your fingers dig deeper into the skin of his thighs is satisfying enough to have a subtle smirk twitching on his lips.

⋆⋆⋆

Iwaizumi likes the closeness that comes along with cock warming, especially after a long day. There are some days where your schedules just don’t aline until late into the evening when the sun has already set. You’re both too exhausted for any sort of sex, but still want to be close to one another, want to share soft kisses and embraces. So once you two have dressed down for the night you curl up on your shared bed, finding a comfortable spot together.

“Princess...” Iwaizumi sighs into your ear, his palms slipping under the fabric of your shirt so he could the warmth of your skin. You mewl in response, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck before pressing wet kisses along the column. “Love you so much daddy...” you murmur back to him softly, your eyes fluttering a bit as he twitched between your walls. He was slowly growing, filling you up inch by inch until that familiar squeeze was apart between your thighs. It always felt so good, being stuffed by him when you drifted off into sleep. A smile curled on Iwa’s sleepy features, the familiar grip of your cunt around his dick making him sigh out in content.

“Love you too, my pretty princess.” He kisses along the crown of your head, hands massaging down your back as you cling to him tighter, sleep weighing down your eyes.

[scuttling]

Stay at Home DILF

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 5,863 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch, Insecure Hotch, Oral sex, Fingering, Unprotected sex, A little angsty by accident Summary: Aaron retires from the BAU when the new baby is born, but a year later the lack of structure, sleep, and time for himself means changes to his body he's not very proud of. When the thought of having another child is brought up, how will he and his wife work through his insecurities to make the perfectly imperfect, happy family? *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! “Honey, I have to get going—do you need me to drop Jack off at school, or are you good?” Professor Hotchner slides her foot into a flesh-toned pump, leaning against the kitchen table for support and stealing a grape from Jack’s fruit salad. He narrows his eyes, then sticks out his tongue, and she does the same. “Do you want me to starve, Jackrabbit?”

“You won’t starve. Get your own grapes.” So full of sass, that one. Seven is such a fun age. She decides to blame the mixture of Aaron’s genes and Haley’s, and she pulls out her phone to send Haley a quick text.

Your son is a menace in the morning.

Haley: Gets that from his dad.

Aaron enters the kitchen, holding their one year old daughter Mia, and he sticks her in her highchair, puts her breakfast in front of her, and leans toward his wife.

“I’m good, I’ll take him,” he says, and kisses her lips. “Mia and I will take big brother Jack to school, won’t we?” Mia is obsessed with Jack—her first word was Jack, or rather, Ack, which was super cute—so she giggles happily, and her mother can’t help but smile. Their little family is absolutely perfect.

She leans in for another kiss from Aaron, and then another, and then maybe one more...

“You’re getting distracted,” Jack says, and she looks over at him with a raised eyebrow, then back to Aaron. He shrugs.

“It was on one of his vocabulary sheets.” Figures.

“Well, maybe I find my boys distracting. Let me give you kisses and we’ll find out!” She launches herself at him, kissing his head and his cheeks, and he laughs, and she knows she’s going to be late for work, but she can’t pass up moments like these, she just can’t.

She gives him a hug and tells him to have a good day, then she kisses Mia, and then she puts her arms around Aaron’s neck and kisses him goodbye. Before she pulls away, something comes over her—the warmth of this perfect morning, the overwhelming love for both of their sassy, silly kids, or maybe the fact that they’ve been too busy for sex lately and she’s constantly horny for him—and she looks up at him and whispers, “we should have another baby.”

Aaron grins immediately.

“Yeah we should.” They kiss a few more times, quickly, smiling against each other's lips, and he pats her hip because he knows she has to go. “We’ll talk more later, but yes. I want to. I love you.” He takes her face in his hands and kisses her deeply, and she sighs, grabs her bags, and heads out the door. Work is work; as the youngest professor in the English department, her schedule is jam packed with classes, lectures, morning office hours, but despite all that, it seems that Aaron is having the more difficult day.

They both love that he was able to retire from the BAU early to be a stay at home dad when Mia was born—he does consult for them occasionally, but has no official title, doesn’t have to travel—and he’s amazing at it, but she knows her baby can be a handful even on a good day. The texts she’s been getting all morning only solidify that knowledge.

Aaron: FYI - Mia hates bananas this week.

Aaron: What do they put in this applesauce, crack? She’s tearing around here like a bat out of hell.

Aaron: Okay, she’s your child, I officially renounce her. I put on The White Album and she started crying.

Maybe she prefers Abbey Road?

Aaron: No. Unlike her mother, she has taste.

You wound me, Hotchner.

She works through lunch, grading papers on The Call of the Wild, but when Aaron’s name lights up the display on her phone, she puts her pen down and smiles, puts it on speaker.

She’s sorry she did, because Mia is wailing in the background, and it’s very clearly her, I’m exhausted, asshole, leave me alone, cry, which makes her wonder why she’s not taking a nap. She knows she resists Aaron sometimes, doesn’t want him to leave her alone in her room, which is so sweet and also so, so annoying.

“Hi, sweetheart. Are you having a little trouble over there?” He takes a deep breath and sighs.

“She won’t go down, baby, even if I sit in the rocking chair beside her. It’s been twenty minutes.” Wow. He put up with it longer than she would have.

“Put her in her crib with Stuffy Bear and just let her cry; I know you hate that, but she’ll give up eventually.” He groans softly.

“I can’t; I feel so bad.”

She smiles. Her warm-hearted man.

“She does this because she knows you’ll give in and do whatever she wants. I promise you, she’ll be happier for it; she sounds miserable.”

“I don’t know…” he says, and she can tell he’s not going to do it. She picks up her pen and skims the paper she abandoned.

“Are you tired?” She doesn't wait for an answer, because she knows he is: Jack had a bad dream last night and woke them both up, and Aaron went to lay with him until he fell asleep because he knew she had an early morning. It was almost time for her alarm when he made it back to bed. “If you want to try to nap, she’s going to have to nap. Do it for her, yourself, me, a combination of the three of us. She won’t be mad at you; she won’t even remember.”

“What if I give her abandonment issues?” he presses, and she closes her eyes for a moment.

“Aaron, I love you so much. You’re such a great dad, and our kids are lucky to have you. But you have to loosen the reins just a little, especially if… if we are going to have another baby.” The thought makes her smile, and she can tell he’s smiling down the line, too.

“Right. Loosen the reins. Just put her in her crib,” she can hear that he does that, “and give her Stuffy Bear, and let her cry.” He blows out a breath, and she can hear the door click shut behind him as he leaves her room. She’s proud of him, but she also knows he’s going to sit in front of the video monitor and watch to make sure she falls asleep, and that he’ll probably work on laundry after that and not actually take a nap of his own.

He insists he’s doing fine when she brings it up, but the way he sacks out like a corpse when they get into bed doesn’t exactly have her convinced.

“I love you, and miss you,” he says when it’s slightly quieter, though she can faintly hear the cries through the monitor. “It made me really happy this morning when you said we should have another baby. We make perfect babies, have you noticed?” She hides her grin behind her hand, because if anyone walked by her office they’d think she’s insane with how widely she’s smiling.

“I have noticed, but since we only have the one and I can’t take any credit for Jack, I figured we should probably make another. Maybe the same way we made Mia…” They’re both convinced it was a weekend when Jack was at Haley’s and the two of them went to town on each other, true marathon sex where they only stopped for food and water and she coaxed him to hardness so many times she felt like a damn sex goddess.

“Hmm. I remember that with fondness, and would love to do that again. You know Haley said she’d take Mia on one of Jack’s weekends if we ever needed her to.”

Her life is pretty damn perfect, with her gorgeous, caring husband, and her two awesome kiddos, and a job she loves, but the most unexpectedly sweet part is that Haley is so comfortable with her, and that she and Aaron were able to get past the ugliness of their divorce to eventually become friends again. It’s not something they take for granted.

“Maybe we should take her up on it this weekend,” she says, trying to sound a little sultry. “We’ve both been so busy; it’s been a while since you pet my kitty.” For some reason, this particular phrase makes Aaron blush and get insanely horny, and she’s hoping to tease him so much the rest of the week that their weekend is one neither of them ever forget, so she’s pulling out the big guns.

“It’s been far too long, and I’m sorry. I can’t wait, baby. I’ll call her here in a few; I know you have to get to your next lecture.” She looks down at her watch, and it is about time to clean up and head over. She sighs happily down the line.

“Okay, I love and miss you; try to take a power nap. I promise, she’ll be fine.”

“I will.” He won’t. “Talk to you soon.” When she gets home, Aaron has dinner ready; she told him to hold off, that she’d help when she got there, but he has always been an overachiever.

Mia is already in her high-chair, waiting patiently for once in her little life; she kisses her forehead, breathes in her sweet baby smell, and then makes her way to her husband.

“Looks good, honey,” she says as he sets the table, and she leans up for a kiss, but when she presses her hand to his stomach like she always does, he pulls back a little. “Is everything okay? Did you have a bad afternoon?”

“No, it wasn’t bad after the nap fiasco,” he responds, but he sounds distracted. Maybe he was asked to look at a case, or something, and that’s still on his mind? She leans against his shoulder, puts a hand on his back and attempts to push up his t-shirt, to skim her hand up along his spine, which always comforts him, but again, he shifts away from her touch. She sighs and steps back.

“You're going to give me a complex, Aaron. If I did something to upset you, please tell me so I can apologize and try to make it better.” He turns to look at her face, and his formerly tense jaw softens a little; he presses his lips to hers, just a peck.

“No, you didn’t do anything. I’m just a little tired, that’s all.” He smiles softly, and she’s sure he is tired, but this seems like something more.

“You’d tell me if something else was bothering you, right? You know I’m here for you.”

“Of course I would, and of course I do. I love you,” he breathes against her mouth, and then he goes in for a longer kiss and she gets, as Jack said earlier, a little distracted. When the kiss breaks, she sighs happily.

“I love you. Missed those lips,” she murmurs, and then she runs a hand over his hair. “If the kids wake up again tonight, I’ll get them. You need to rest.” He shakes his head.

“You have another full day tomorrow,” he counters, and it’s so sweet that he keeps up with the schedule she has posted on the fridge, but still. She puts her hand on her hip.

“And you don’t? It’s my turn. Let me help.” He looks like he wants to argue, but she gives him the glare he knows means she will talk about this all night if he doesn’t agree; she’s not the sponsor of the university’s debate team for nothing, and even his prosecutorial ways have nothing on her.

“Okay,” he sighs, and she smiles and kisses him and then goes to get Jack and make sure he’s cleaned up for dinner.

That night when the two of them are getting ready for bed, she’s surprised as hell when he stops her from pulling one of his t-shirts—her typical sleepwear—over her head. She sets it down, arches her brow, and he guides her back onto the bed with a grin and puts his hands on her hips.

“What’s happening right now?” she asks, because before Mia, sure, Aaron would treat her to all manner of orgasm-inducing behavior at random, and she would do the same, but since Mia—especially in the last six months or so—their sexual encounters have been few and far between. It’s no one’s fault, and they’re both very clearly still attracted to each other; it’s just one of those things that falls by the wayside when you have a new baby and a hectic life and you don’t get enough sleep.

Needless to say, she is a little confused by this turn of events.

“I’m attempting to worship my gorgeous fucking wife,” he murmurs, and he leans up and kisses her stomach, licks a long line up from her belly button. Her breath hitches. “Gonna put another little baby in here—but it’s always beautiful.” He slowly moves his lips higher, over her ribcage, and holds her there. “You’re perfect, you know?”

“Aaron.” Her fingers come up to sweep through his hair; her heart aches with love and tenderness. He moves up, presses open-mouthed kisses to each of her breasts, then covers them with his hands and squeezes. She’s a panting, dripping mess, and more than anything she wants to strip him naked, pull him closer, get him inside her.

“I love you just as you are; I want you just as you are. Always have, always will.” He smooths his hands up over her throat, and brings her mouth to his for a deep, soulful kiss. She hadn’t even realized she’s been feeling repressed, but his touch tonight makes her feel so beautiful and special… It's incredible how close she is from only that.

“Make love to me,” she whispers, and he kisses her again, but then he slides back down her body.

“Want to taste you,” he says instead, and he gets his hands on her hips again and his mouth on her pussy, looks up at her while he licks and sucks like he’s gone without for ages—which he has, she figures, but it’s blowing her mind, her fingers scratching at the sheets, her neck arched. He massages her hips as his tongue works, as he grinds against the bed, and she comes with a whimper, because her body is so overwhelmed by how good she feels that she can’t even properly vocalize it.

Aaron comes up, just a little, rests his head on her stomach, and she smooths her hands over his hair and his shoulders, since that’s all she can reach.

“Come up and let me touch you—or you can come inside me.” She will happily take either option, but he just kisses her belly and shakes his head.

“No, I’m good. Just really tired.” She frowns, can’t recall a time in her life when they didn’t both get off during sex; he catches her expression and runs his hands up her body. “Really, I’m okay. I just wanted to do that before I passed out.” He smiles, and she doesn’t like it, but he climbs off of her and goes to the bathroom, and she pulls on the t-shirt and crawls into bed. Two days later, she’s sitting in her office grading tests when she hears a knock at the door. She looks up, and it’s Aaron, of course, looking so gorgeous in a black polo and jeans.

“Hey, what are you doing here? Where’s Mia?” she asks with a smile. He leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

“She’s with her Aunt Penelope for a few hours.”

“Why? Is everything okay?” Penelope is at work, she knows, because she texted her earlier about something unrelated and she’d mentioned that she and Spencer were having coffee and that he said hello.

“Everything‘s fine,” he assures her, and he enters the room fully, closes the door behind him… and locks it. “Can’t your husband come visit you during your super secret not-really-office-hours?” She raises an eyebrow, both at his question and the fact that he locked the door. What exactly is he planning to do, she wonders?

“You can, but you don’t. I guess I’m just surprised.”

“Well today I decided to. I missed you so much.” He walks around her desk and leans over her for a couple of kisses. “Have you missed me?” She rolls her eyes, smiles.

“Of course I missed you. I miss you every second I’m away from you.” She reaches out, wants to hug him, pull him closer, but he takes a step back and crooks his finger, encouraging her to follow him.

He’s being really weird, but he’s also being really hot. She decides to play along.

She stands, walks over to him, and he carefully clears a spot on her desk, knows she has a system and doesn’t like a mess; when she’s within reach, he puts his hands on her waist and lifts her up onto it, her ass where a stack of tests had just been. Fuck.

“I want to get this dress off of you,” he says, voice low, and he takes her face in his hands and kisses her, rough and deep. “Can I take it off, baby? Can I make you come?”

Everything is happening so fast her head is spinning—it’s not like him to just show up at her office, to try to have sex with her there, especially when their dry spell has been, up until recently, like the damn Sahara.

He must sense her confusion, her apprehension, because he kisses slowly along the side of her throat, down the v-neck of her dress, making her eyelids flutter.

“The door’s locked, and no one even knows we’re in here. Can I take it off?” She pants, thinks about this for a second, but then he slides a hand over her thigh, pushing her skirt up, and she gets a little distracted. She nods, and he kisses her hard and unties the sash of her wrap dress, pushes it off her shoulders. She’s glad she wore a matching set of bra and panties, because this is like prime fantasy material and she wants to try to remember every detail.

He kisses her mouth, soft and sweet, then tugs the straps of her bra down her shoulders, pulls the cups down so her breasts fall out of them. She moans, a little startled, and he dips his head to mouth at her nipples, rests one hand on her lower back and one on her stomach—probably because she looks like she’s about to slide off the desk and onto the floor like a blob of jelly. She knows that’s how she feels.

When he’s gotten her thoroughly worked up, almost trembling with the need for more, he pushes her panties aside and presses a finger into her, and she whimpers, wraps her hand around his neck for support when he starts to pump it deeply inside.

“What has gotten into you?” she breathes, and her hips chase the pleasure he brings; the hand on her back moves to her ass, squeezes it.

“I love you and I want you. I want to make you happy, I want you to feel good.”

“Me—me too,” she gasps as he moves faster, staring right into his eyes. “I love you, want you. Want to make you happy, feel good.” She cards her fingers through his hair and stretches for a desperate, eager kiss. “I want you so badly, baby, please.”

“I’m right here. You have me,” he murmurs, but that’s not what she means and he has to know it. Just in case he doesn’t, though, she makes herself loud and clear; relationships are all about communication, after all.

“I want you to put your cock in my pussy, I want you to come in me. I want you to fucking ruin me, Aaron, I want you to shove your dick in me and keep shoving.” She sounds unhinged, but she can’t stop.

He adds a second finger—not what she wants—and roughly gropes her breast—it feels so good, but it’s not what she wants. Why won’t he give her what she wants?

“Shh, just come on my hand, it’s okay. I’ll fuck you later, in our bed, baby,” he promises. “Just come now, okay? Right here, right now for me.”

She does, because even if he’s being unnecessarily aggravating, it’s still Aaron. She’s desperate for him, always has been, always will be. She comes loud and high and she clutches him tightly and he kisses her and coos words of love and affection into her ear. She gets cleaned up, and they go for lunch, and they can’t take their eyes off each other.

Something’s very wrong, and she can’t quite put her finger on it.

That evening when she gets home, Aaron is feeling guilty. She’s not sure why, but he’s executing all of his patented guilty trademark behaviors: he offers her a glass of wine, runs her a bath, rubs her feet, even though he’s been the one home with the baby all day. She’s tempted to ask if he’s cheating on her, as a joke, but that’s never funny, especially when she knows he’s being shifty and weird about something.

When they’re laying in bed, he sets down his book and looks over at her.

“I meant to tell you, Haley isn’t able to take Mia tomorrow. Maybe the weekend after, we can have our special alone time.” She won’t say she’s not disappointed, but she doesn’t want to inconvenience Haley, when she’s already being so great. She smiles softly, covers his hand with hers.

“That’s okay. It was short notice, anyway. I’ll still enjoy my weekend, with you and Mia.” He smiles too, but it doesn’t quite touch his eyes.

The kids sleep through the night, but she doesn’t. On Friday, she picks Jack up from school and takes him to Haley’s, who sends him to wash up so she can make him a snack. When he’s gone, she smiles warmly and invites her into the kitchen for coffee; she takes a cup, and they make pleasant small talk like they always do.

“Are you sure you don’t want to bring Mia over?” Haley asks after a few minutes. It sounds like she’s double checking. “It’s really no trouble.” She frowns, sets her cup down.

“I thought you weren’t able to watch Mia this weekend. I thought… I thought that’s what Aaron said. I must have misunderstood him.” That’s the only logical conclusion, because Aaron wouldn’t lie to her. He wouldn’t.

“He was being a little weird on the phone the other day. He asked me if I would watch her, and I said yes. He told me about your plans,” she says with raised eyebrows, “and then I told him, you know. That he better treat you right, because you just had a baby not that long ago and you might be a little self-conscious about jumping back into the sack like that; not that you should be, because you look amazing.” She racks her brain for the first time he started acting strangely, pulling away from her, and it would have been after his conversation with Haley. She asks, just to confirm.

“Is that when he got weird?”

“Actually yeah. He changed his mind, said you might not need me to watch her after all, but I told him the offer stood. He was pretty quick to get off the phone after that.” She would sip her coffee, but she’s pretty sure her hands are shaking. Why would he lie about that?

“You know, I should go. I’m sure Aaron’s pulling his hair out with her, she’s been a devil today. Tell Jack I love him and I’ll talk to him tonight, will you?”

“Of course. If you change your mind about Mia, just let me know,” Haley says, and she gets into her car with tears stinging her eyes.

When she gets home, Aaron is playing with Mia on the living room floor. He looks up at her with a smile that abruptly falls when he takes in her facial expression.

“What’s wrong?” She composes herself, takes a deep breath. They vowed a long time ago not to argue in front of Jack or Mia. She tries to sound conversational.

“You lied to me. You said Haley couldn’t take Mia this weekend.” He swallows and looks properly guilty. She’s not sure how he was able to lie to her in the first place; he’s never been any good at it.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I just didn’t know how to say it.” She looks up, shakes her head, wills her eyes not to water while she’s trying to have this conversation.

“You didn’t know how to say what? What is it that’s made you distance yourself from me?” She recalls him physically pulling away, then doing a complete 180 and initiating sex, but never penetrative sex, never letting her touch him or return the favor in any way. “Haley told me about your conversation. So do you think I’m unhappy with my body, or are you unhappy with my body?” He has the nerve to look confused, gets Mia set up with some toys she can play with safely on her own and stands up, comes close to her. She’s not sure she even wants his touch right now, which is saying something; when she’s unhappy, that’s usually all she wants.

“Neither of those things. I swear to god. I love you and I love your body; you’re so beautiful. Too beautiful for me, you always have been.” He’s looking down at her so seriously, and she wants so badly to believe him, but how could she, when faced with the evidence?

“Okay. If it’s neither of those things…” Her voice is small when she says the one option that hurts her most. “Did you change your mind? Do you not want to have another baby with me?” He sighs, deflates, and she takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“No, listen to me. It’s not that I don’t want that; I want that more than anything, but it will… further complicate, things...” He trails off, and she tries to follow what he’s saying. “The problem isn’t you in any way. It’s me.” She huffs, squeezes her eyes briefly shut.

“You? How can it be you, when you’ve been the only man to catch my eye for years? From the moment you set foot on my campus looking for your bad guy, I’ve been attracted to you, aroused by you, wrapped around your finger. You’re so perfect for me: perfect husband, perfect dad, perfect lover. My best friend. Never a day has gone by where I haven’t wanted you.” He wets his lips, sighs.

“Surely you’ve noticed that since I quit my job and started staying home with Mia, I… I don’t look the same. I’ve… let myself go.” His brows are deeply furrowed, and he’s clearly struggling with this; she reaches for him, no longer angry—at least for the time being—puts a hand on his arm.

“I’ve noticed that you don’t quite look the same. Doesn’t mean you’ve ‘let yourself go,’ or that I’m not still attracted to you; you just have a dad bod now instead of an ‘FBI guy who punches people for a living’ bod.” Her other hand hovers, then comes to rest on his stomach, and she smiles. “I’m actually really into the way you look now. I’ve been fantasizing about it for ages. I wish I’d known you were feeling self-conscious.”

“I’m not used to feeling… self-conscious, vulnerable,” he breathes, but he presses into her touch, so she considers that a good thing. “I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“I get that baby, I do, but this is me. I would have done anything I could to make you feel better. You didn’t have to hide it from me. You didn’t have to lie. We could have talked about it.” She moves the hand on his arm to his face, guides him down for a loving kiss. “We’re equally to blame, because I know you haven’t been getting good sleep, and I know you barely have time for yourself, and I didn’t step in; but you never let me help. If roles were reversed, and it was me staying home with Mia, you would never expect me to do all the cooking and cleaning and homework and bath time without your help. So you need to let me help, Aaron, please.” She looks up at him, eyes warm and sincere, and he nods, bends to press a kiss to her lips.

“I’m sorry. I still don’t feel great about… myself, but maybe I could. If I let you help. If I took some time for me.” She nods and wraps her arms around him—finally—for a hug.

“I love you so much. Just like this. Big, cuddly papa bear, taking care of our babies, making our home a safe and happy place for them. How could I not love the body that brings me so much happiness? That makes me excited to get in my car and come home at the end of every day?”

They kiss some more, deep, healing kisses and soft, sweet kisses, but she doesn’t get distracted by them. She’s very focused, caresses him and brushes loving fingertips over his chest and arms and sides. But speaking of distractions…

“Were you doing all those sexy things to try to distract me from wanting you to get all up on me?” she asks, pulling back, and at least he has the decency to flush.

“Kind of? I figured if it was sex you wanted, you’d be happy to get off however it happened; it was great for me too, don’t get me wrong, I just didn’t really want to be touched, feeling the way I felt.” She frowns, rests her head against his chest and holds him tighter.

“That makes me sad. What I wanted was an intimate moment with my husband, and while yes, what you did for me was great, because you’re super hot and very capable,” she says, leaning back in his embrace with a soft smile, “it’s not what I’ve been wanting. I want you all naked and sweaty and heavy on top of me, going to pound town.” He presses his lips together and raises his eyebrows.

“Pound town? What are you, twelve?” She grins, shoves his chest, and he laughs.

“I’m surrounded by college kids all day, please forgive me. I think it got my message across though.” She touches his cheek, looks up into his eyes, and sighs. “Can we take Mia over to Haley’s and give it a shot? I’ll do anything to make you feel happy and comfortable, any position that makes you feel better—though what I’d really like most, if you’ll trust me, is to suck your dick, and then hop on your dick, and then later when we’re ready to go again, we do the pound town thing and make another goddamn baby.”

She’s so serious, and he looks so serious, and then he kisses her and says yes and they pack up their kid and take her to his ex-wife’s so they can get it on, which sounds so much crazier than it actually is. She gets him out of his clothes, doesn’t move slow or spend lots of time focusing on what he thinks are flaws; instead, she proves how desirable he is by practically tearing his pants off and pushing him against the bed and swallowing around his dick just so she can hear all those delicious moans she’s been missing.

After that, she rides him hard, kisses him harder, plants her hands on his chest and stomach and moans and groans against his mouth. “So fucking hot, seriously so fucking hot, Aaron—if I saw you across the room today I wouldn’t change a goddamn thing, I would still pursue you, I’d make you blush like I did back then. I’d be so forward because I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about how good this would feel.”

She’s rocking his world, no doubt about that; it’s written all over his face, in the hardness of his hands on her hips as she grinds down on his cock, in the way his chest is heaving despite not actually doing any of the work at all. He comes first, and then rubs her clit while she continues to fuck him until she finds her own orgasm; she scratches her nails down his stomach, and he leans up and grabs her face for a rough, perfect kiss.

They take a break, cuddling and kissing and enjoying the feel of bare skin, comfy bed, soft lips. Aaron touches her cheek, tells her how much he loves and appreciates her.

“I’m so sorry I’ve been keeping this inside, and not being truthful. It’s hard, when you’re as perfect as the day I met you, and I’m…” She presses a finger to his lips, shushes him, kisses him.

“You’re as perfect as the day I met you, too. More perfect, even, because every day since then you’ve chosen me, and our family. I could not ask for a better man. Simply could not, Aaron. And if you want me to come home early so you can go to the park to run, or to the gym, then that’s what I'll do, but if you look like you do right now, forever, I’ll be happy with that too. Whatever makes you happy.”

They snuggle and kiss and talk and laugh, and then laughing becomes sex in that way everything becomes sex when you’re genuinely obsessed with the person in your bed.

He gets her on her back, kisses all over, teases her—“mmm, rubbing your kitty, baby, how does it feel?”—and then puts her legs over his shoulders, plants his hands, and fucks, taking every ounce of his pent-up frustration out on her, and it’s incredible.

“Yes, Aaron, yes, baby, oh, god.” Her head is thrown back, and she’s torn between laughing, because she’s been wanting this for months and it’s exactly as awesome as she’d dreamed it would be, and crying, because she fucking loves him, so much it puts a lump in her throat.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, speeds up, sweaty and gorgeous and smiling. “You’re going to come with me—not just for me, but with me, so my come gets deep inside, so it works and we get another perfect baby who never lets us fucking sleep.” She nods frantically, presses her hips against his, and it’s not simultaneous, but it’s a near damn thing, when they both come groaning each other’s names. A little less than a year later, they have Mason. Aaron is at home in his dad bod, Mia doesn’t cry at naptime, Jack is still a menace in the mornings, and their perfect little family got a little more perfect. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul

[buckyownsmylife]

Young and Beautiful - Steve Rogers smut

The one where you were supposed to be a one-night stand, but Steve won't let that happen

Warnings: smut, and a little bit of angst.

A/N: this was our first ever patreon-voted fic, chosen for the month of May! My patreons at the $3 tier get to send me their ideas once a month and two of them end up being voted so I can write one of them each month. June’s fic is the one where Ransom needs to get a sugar mommy, and if you want to suggest a story for our July’s fic, please consider becoming a patreon! Thank you to my darling @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ for reading this over for me.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

The first time wasn’t a mistake, I could admit to that. Steve had been coming to the same bar where I worked for almost a year now. I knew who he was, of course. Everyone knew - he was hard to miss. But I think what he liked about our run-down place is that no one seemed to care about Captain America and the things he did when he didn’t have a bottle of beer in his hand.

Over here, he was just Steve. And Steve tipped well and drank a lot - I was sure he couldn’t get drunk, no matter how many beers I served him, but he never stopped asking me for more.

So, needless to say, he was adored. Adored by my boss, who was always around to keep watch of his customers and keep them in line. Adored by Luke, who guarded the entrance, for all the nights Steve helped him get rid of men who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. And adored by all the waitresses, for precisely the same reason - and because I always shared my tips with all of them.

Even the kitchen staff adored Steve. Besides, it’s not like he was hard on the eye - all the girls (customers and staff) were constantly fawning over him, but he was nothing short of a gentleman, always.

Actually, he seemed to avoid the members of the opposite sex as best as he could, clearly not interested in whatever it was that they planned to possibly get to do with him. Well, except for me.

He never avoided me. I always figured it was because I was the guardian of the alcohol - we’d even joke about it sometimes, when he came to sit by the bar after politely declining someone’s advances.

“It’s just hard to understand how to date nowadays,” he commented one day after a pretty girl actually asked him out on a date right in front of me, but he refused. I shrugged as I wiped the counter, thinking if there was any advice I could give him.

“It really isn’t that hard. You go out to dinner, walk her home and when you step in front of her door, you ask her for some coffee. She’ll usually do it herself, but if you want to show your interest…” His frown was amusing, to say the least, but I held back my laughter so he wouldn’t be even more uncomfortable.

“A coffee?” Giggling, I nodded. “Before bed? But…”

“It’s a metaphor, Steve. A lady can’t very well invite you into her sheets, now can she?” He blushed three different shades of red when I winked, another giggle escaping. “I mean, she can, but we like to keep some things unsaid - innuendos can be very sexy.”

Two months had passed and if Steve made use of my lessons, I wouldn’t know. He never brought anyone to the bar and never left with any lady who approached him either.

“What can I get ya, Steve?” I’d always ask. I’d never once called him Cap or anything other than the name he used to introduce himself - even though I obviously knew who he was. He always took his time before answering my questions, even if they required a simple yes or no, which amused me to no end.

For a while, I actually believed a gun or one of the buildings the Hulk had undoubtedly thrown in his direction had left him with a difficulty of hearing. But then after my first question, he never seemed to have any problem understanding me at all.

“Just a beer,” he’d say, a small, soft smile as he tried not to stare too much at me, fingers tapping on the counter while I got his order. I appreciated his effort not to make me uncomfortable - I knew he’d seen how often men did that to me. I had no doubt that was why he only ever looked me in the eye from under those huge eyelashes of his.

“There you go.” Always the same routine, we never once deviated from it. Until one night when I was supposed to close the bar and he heard my boss instructing me to be careful.

“There’s been a lot of robberies this late at night. Make sure you lock everything up properly.” I saluted in jest, making the old man laugh and shake his head at me. “See you tomorrow, kid.”

There were only a handful of customers - Steve included, and he was the only one by the bar, so I threw him a quick smile as I wiped the glasses and started to clean the counter.

“Can I get you anything else?” I offered, but he only grimaced in response, leaving me confused. “Is there something wrong?” He stared directly at me without answering for a while before he was able to snap out of whatever it was that had frozen him.

“You’re supposed to leave by yourself at two in the morning?” I chuckled lightly at his concern, avoiding his gaze so he wouldn’t see how it warmed my heart that he’d be preoccupied over me, someone that was a little more than a stranger to him.

“It’s part of the job,” I reassured him. “Well, usually it’s part of Luke’s job. But whenever he has to leave early, it’s my duty to fill in for him.” He nodded, but didn’t make any movement towards leaving. Usually, he would be gone by now, but it wasn’t that extraordinary for him to stay until the hour I left.

This was the first time he stayed this long though, considering I wasn’t the one responsible for closing the bar and I only realized it when I looked around and noticed we were the last two people left in the room.

“Planning on drinking much more?” I joked, trying to gauge if he was going to be much longer, but he seemed startled by my question, looking around to verify the same thing I’d just noticed.

“Oh, no. Not at all.” I smiled, thankful that he was conscious and wouldn’t force me to stay even longer after my shift had finished. “I just figured I could walk you home. It is pretty late, after all.”

My heart warmed up at how sweet and thoughtful this man was. He had no reason to wait for me to finish my job just to walk me home, yet here he was. “Thank you, Steve,” I acknowledged, sending him a grateful grin. “Let me just check the bathrooms real quick. I’ll grab my purse and we can leave.”

He nodded, watching me do as I said and in no time at all we took off together in the direction of my apartment. I wasn’t worried about making small talk with him on the way there - I knew he was a good conversationalist from all the times he had stayed by the bar instead of taking his beer to a table, and I adored the stories he told of his missions just as much as I appreciated how he genuinely cared about what I had to say.

The walk to my place seemed shorter than ever before, and in a few minutes we were standing in front of my door as I searched for my keys in my bag.

“C-Can I…” He murmured as I looked for it, glancing up at him and smiling to signal he should continue even though I couldn’t give him my full attention at that moment. “Would you… Do you have some coffee?”

I was so shocked that my head whipped up to stare at him, eyes wide and unbelieving. Did Steve… Did he… Did he want to have sex with me? “I mean… in your apartment, do you have some coffee in your apartment?”

The thought was so extraordinary that the second I realized his intentions, a fire of desire warmed my lower belly, not because he was Captain America, but because he was an attractive and sweet guy that was way out of my league and I couldn’t believe he was into me.

He kept talking as I kept blinking at him, trying to process what was going on. “’Cause I’d really like to have some coffee… with you… If you want some too…”

His voice got smaller the longer it took for me to answer him, until it disappeared completely and he cleared his throat. “Nevermind.” He was about to turn around and make a run for it, I was sure, but I was able to grasp his wrist just in time, signalling him to stop because I had something to say.

“I would love to make you some coffee, Steve.”

So yeah, the first time wasn’t a mistake. He was way too fucking sweet and I got hot just by seeing how nervous he was to ask me for some “coffee”, incredulous that I was capable of affecting this giant man that much.

So as soon as we were in my apartment, I tied up my hair with the little hair tie I always kept on my wrist during work and got on my knees for him.

And I cherished every fucking second of it.

The way his mouth fell open in a gasp when I reached for his jeans, the little moans he let out as I licked his member… I couldn’t close my eyes, too transfixed by his expressions to miss anything.

The way he pulled me by my hair to devour my mouth, hands so eager to undress me that he ended up ripping my blouse, but it only made me giggle.

The way his groan sounded almost painful when he picked me up, shoved me against the door and penetrated me, filling me so beautifully I hit my head back against the wood and didn’t even notice it.

He got me to cum without almost no preparation, just from the thrill of it all, the stretch of his member inside of me. When I urged him to cum in my pussy, the look on his eyes was enough to get me to cum again, milking him dry as he emptied himself with a growl, forehead dropping against mine while he tried to catch his breath.

I was expecting him to leave immediately or maybe stay for an actual coffee. I wasn’t expecting him to pull out, drop to his knees and start lapping his cum from inside of me, eyes as focused on mine as I had been for him only minutes before.

Burying my fingers in his short locks, I tried to keep myself up despite the way my legs trembled, but Steve just adjusted them so they’d be over his shoulders and held me up with his face buried in me.

I had never cum so many times in a row. But then again, I had never had a man eat his own cum out of me.

I fully intended it to be a one time thing, and that was my plan. I thanked him for eating me out, made him some coffee, giggled at his stories about his friends and for a second it almost looked like we were back at the bar, only the counter was my kitchen table and I was allowed to sit on the other side.

He didn’t ask to stay the evening and I breathed a sigh of relief after I closed the door behind him, ignoring the slight empty feeling that momentarily hit me. This is what I wanted, I reminded myself, and by acting the way I expected him to, he had made it clear that he understood the rules of the dating world he claimed to know so little of.

This was a one time deal. Nothing more.

But then the first night we saw each other at the bar again, it was when he burst through the door to punch some guy who came in just as I was closing, trying to steal the money we had in the vault. I was so fucking relieved to see his face that all I could do was tremble in his arms after the police came to get the robber, and of course I couldn’t let him go after that.

He walked me home and I didn’t even ask anything, just stood on my tiptoes to kiss his lips, using my grip on his shirt to pull him in as he helped me with my clothes.

“You’re so fucking pretty…” He moaned, and perhaps that should have been my first sign, the one that alerted me to stop what I was doing and not make this into a mistake I couldn’t take back.

He hadn’t talked the last time. He had never complimented me before.

“God, your ass…” He groaned as he palmed it, helping me over his lap when he took a seat on my couch, until I could fuse the both of us and ride us to hysteria.

But I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind because it felt so fucking good to be desired by him, to have him inside of me, cumming deep into my pussy only to eat it all out of me again.

It didn’t take long for me to learn about the errors of my way, though. In fact, it started the very next day, when he walked into the bar grinning from ear to ear and made a beeline in my direction.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted, and my eyes went wide as two saucers, especially when I saw him lean over the counter like he intended to peck my lips.

“Hello, Captain.” I quickly turned my back to him, facing the shelves of liquor to pretend that I was looking for something. My heart sank to my stomach as I took in what was happening, what I had just done in my effort to put some distance between us as if last night had never happened. “Can I get you anything?”

The time it took for him to answer almost had me looking at him from over my shoulder, but I restrained myself. “Yeah, you,” he finally said, and I breathed out in surprise. “Why are you acting this way?”

I panicked for a few seconds, reaching up for an already clean glass to attack it with my rag. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tried to reassure the both of us, still incapable of looking him in the eye.

But I could see his massive body by the end of the counter from the corner of my eyes, where he always sat, and I saw him tap the old battered wood with his fingers - fingers he had used to spread me open for his tongue to reach - as he thought.

I hoped he would let it go. I hoped he would not.

“Fine,” he relented, and I froze, uncertain of what he meant. “I’ll come back tomorrow.” My head snapped up just in time to watch him leave, and he didn’t even look over his shoulder.

I tried to tell myself it was for the best. He needed some time to get over whatever the hell it was that he thought he was feeling and tomorrow things would go back to normal. But that wasn’t what happened.

He came back with flowers the next day, and I didn’t have any reasonable excuse not to accept it. He didn’t push for anything, just gave me the bouquet before asking for his usual drink. And then he proceeded to stay the entire evening right there, where he always sat, carefully watching my every move.

For the first time in a while, I broke two glasses in a single evening.

The day after that, he came with a box of chocolates. I couldn’t hide the smile because they were my favorite - I didn’t know how he knew it until he reminded me.

“You told me you liked them right when I started coming to this place.” His eyes were so heavy with a sad feeling that I couldn’t recognize that I had to avert my gaze. It messed with my heartbeat, it left my throat feeling dry.

“Thanks, Captain,” I softly acknowledged it, and I saw the way his grip on the box tightened. I saw it in the way it was slightly crumpled when I took it from his hands, but he didn’t say a word.

There was only so much that he could take, though. And I knew that. It didn’t help that my boss had caught onto his intentions and started to push me to go out on a date with him.

“Why don’t you give the poor guy a chance?” He’d incite, much to Steve’s utter glee.

“Yeah, Y/N. Why don’t you go out with me?” Steve urged, and although he never asked when my boss wasn’t around to initiate the teasing, I knew he wondered.

And the truth was that I wondered about it too. Because everything was screwed up now. When I gave him his beer and our fingers brushed, mine were left tingling. When I looked his way to find his gaze already on me, I shivered.

So yes, the second time was undeniably a mistake, but there wouldn’t be a third time. I’d make sure of it.

Steve’s P.O.V.

I was tired of waiting. I knew I had wanted her since the first time I laid my eyes on her, when I decided to stop at this rundown bar in the hopes of one night of crappy beer without being bothered by anyone asking for autographs or pictures.

I’d come here almost every night when I could escape the tower to watch her work, slowly getting her to warm up to me, and I fell for her personality in the process.

The way she clearly saw me as Steve, and not my title.

The way she always laughed at my stories and shared what had happened in the previous nights with the raucous customers.

The way she seemed to care about everyone and everything that came into contact with her.

So what started as desire became something deeper and for the first time since I was unfrozen, I found myself eager to understand what dating in this new century was like. I asked Sam for advice, and even Tony for any tips he could give me, but their general ideas didn’t matter to me when all I wanted was one single person.

Her.

So I asked her for her thoughts on the matter and was surprised with myself when I put them into practice. I was even more surprised when she accepted my advances and welcomed me into her embrace.

I was sure I’d never been happier than that evening.

But to have her pretend nothing had happened and even worse - treat me like a stranger after I had learned the taste of her skin? Nothing hurt deeper than that.

And still, I understood. I realized then that she hadn’t seen the situation the way that I had. She had thought all I wanted was a one-night deal - well, two-night deal - because I had never shown her anything to make her think differently.

So I set out to do just that. My way this time. And I was just about ready to ask her on a proper date when I was forced away for a whole damn month, having to resort to my hand and my memories of her body to get through the cold nights on the field.

The second I was back in the city, I only had one thing in mind. To get what I wanted, in whatever way she would let me.

“Can we talk?” My voice sounded clipped to my own ears, and maybe that’s why her mouth opened in surprise - or maybe it was seeing me at the bar so early, when there was barely anyone around, after being absent for so long.

“Sure,” she finally accepted, shrugging like it was no big deal, but I knew better than that. She might not know it, but I could read her perfectly, and I knew she was hiding her true feelings even to herself. I knew those feelings were deeper than she had ever felt. I knew they made her scared.

“Not here.” She stopped cleaning glasses then, frozen for a second before she looked around, taking in the fact that no one else was going to need her for a while. There was nowhere to run and maybe I was a jerk for doing this during her work hours, but I was a desperate jerk and I couldn’t wait a second longer.

“Okay.” She sounded small, and I knew what she was expecting to get out of this conversation. Closure, in one way or another. For me to finally let go of her. But I wouldn’t.

I wanted her too damn bad to let her escape like that.

“Go out with me.” I asked the second that the office door was closed behind us, and she immediately started shaking her head. “Yes, please,” I insisted. “Let me show you that I want more from you. I want so much more.”

“I can’t give you more,” was her answer, and she still avoided my eyes as she spoke. “One night, you even had two. That’s all I can give you. Please don’t ask me for anything more.”

“Why?” I asked, and the frustration in my voice was enough to get her to meet my eyes for the first time that evening. “Why are you trying to avoid this? I know you want me, Y/N. You wouldn’t have slept with me if you didn’t. So just tell me why.”

“I can’t,” she insisted, moving towards the door, but I grasped her hand to stop her before she could slip through it - much like she had done that first night, when I thought I’d screwed up any chance I had to ever be with her.

“Tell me why you’re holding yourself back from me,” I ordered, anger and desire creating an explosive cocktail inside of me, making my voice hoarse. I saw her shiver. I watched her break.

“Because it was too fucking good and I swear to God, if you get your mouth on me again, I’m gonna marry you.” Our expressions mirrored one another, eyes wide, mouths hanging open. She couldn’t believe she had let out her feelings like this. I couldn’t believe there was all there was to it.

I dropped to my knees before her.

“Come here.” I shoved her jeans all the way down to her ankles, sending the button flying somewhere. I couldn’t tell where and I didn’t care. All I wanted was to show her that there was nothing wrong with wanting this, with wanting me because as long as she allowed me to, I’d give anything to be with her.

My tongue was so hungry to taste her sweetness again. I licked a stripe between her lower lips before I could even get my hand there, spreading her with my fingers for easier access.

God, she was heavenly. I watched her let her head fall back against the door, much like the first time I was able to be in this position, and my heartbeat fluttered at the realization that this time, I was much closer to getting what I really wanted from her.

“I’ve been terrified of my own feelings for long enough,” I decided to confess, parting from her clit to be able to speak but slipping two digits inside her hole, filling her up, preparing her to welcome me. “I can wait for you to come to terms with yours. But I can’t keep myself away,” I warned, quickening my movements as I chased away the taste of her in my tongue. “So don’t ask that of me.”

Her moan had my eyes sparkling with excitement. I lowered my head to suck her button, see the way it made her thighs tremble on each side of my face.

“So fucking sexy,” I moaned against her cunt. “Come for me, sweetheart. Drench my face.” Her little cry of ecstasy denounced she was about to do just that, so I twirled my tongue around her clit, rubbing my digits against her sweet spot as her body tensed under my ministrations.

“There you go…” I whispered, fascinated with the way she looked after her release. It was like she glowed from the inside, muscles relaxing to accept my caresses when I finished cleaning her with my tongue and rose to my full height.

“Next time you try to pretend something between us didn’t happen, I’m gonna bend you over the counter and spank your ass in front of all of the other patrons,” I warned her before nibbling her earlobe. “Go out with me,” I tried again, and she took a deep breath before answering, looking up at me from under her eyelashes.

“Okay.”

[subwaysurf45]

Love You to the Moon and Back

summary: Bucky notices you’re feeling down after a bad injury, he does his best to help.

words:  3817

warning: depressive episode, doctors, mainly fluff!

pairing: Bucky x Reader 

Masterlist!

Bucky could tell you were getting bad again. 

And it hurt him to see you like this but it always happened after a big mission, your job was traumatizing and it took a toll on all of you. Bucky knew he had his days but he also knew when you finally let yourself slip it was really bad. 

You were a very headstrong person, you didn’t like letting people see your weaknesses or just you being hurt in general. So it sucked when you had broken your shin and witnessed a school of kids get blown up by a bomb, maybe sucked is an understatement but it was what you always said. 

You had pretended to be a teacher because there was supposed to be a hit on most teachers at a private school, so when the school blew up before everyone was out of the building- including you -it left the memories very crystal clear. There was no way of saving everyone so you saved yourself, and the feeling of selfishness had never been more apparent than right now. You were lying in bed with a cast on your left leg, your left leg was on top of the duvet while the other leg was under. 

A tank top and shorts was all you wore even though you were cold. A pillow was placed between your legs down by your shins to keep the injured one elevated, Bucky had stuck it there the last time he came in to check on you. 

Speaking of Bucky, he walked into your shared room in the compound. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bucky cooed as he gently opened and closed the door without making any sound, you had become hyper-aware to sound and light so a loud noise or a flash of a camera could send you into a state of hysterics. Bucky sat himself at the edge of the bed at around your midsection, you were lying in the middle and facing him. You barely said hello, all you could muster was a groan that had the same rhythm as the word hello. “How’s my girl doing?” Bucky rubbed your thigh very carefully. 

It was so obviously a rhetorical question, you were absolutely shit and he knew it. You both just stared at each other and Bucky seemed to get the message, he nodded and looked down. The room was so dark from the lights being off and the curtains being pulled you barely registered that Bucky had a plate of cheese, apple slices, and crackers. Bucky saw you turn your nose up and he knew you would, you had been like this for what felt like weeks. 

“You have your two appointments today, you wanna use the crutches or the wheelchair?” Bucky asked as he gently caressed your thigh, a little hum came after a few sections to clarify this wasn’t rhetorical. 

“I don’t know,” you mumbled into your pillow. 

“Okay…” Bucky held onto the last syllable, he glanced over to the wheelchair and crutches. “How about you have a little snack and then when you got food- and I’ll get water -you can make your choice. You also know you can switch and I’ll be glad to grab it for you, alright?” he did a few quick pats on your thigh before setting the plate down on the bedside table, he grunted as he stood up and stuck his arms slowly beneath you. All Bucky did was sit you upright to eat, you had gotten better at eating and now didn’t need motivation to eat but just a little push at the beginning to keep going after the first bite. Bucky also found if he ate a few pieces from the plate you’d be more inclined to eat the rest. 

“Thanks,” your voice was low and barely audible. 

“No need, pretty lady,” Bucky got right beside you and grabbed the plate, he placed it between you and let you choose the first piece. “So, you’re at the doctor at two and then Doc at three-ten, do you wanna nap between for a little or for a while after?” he just took a cracker and plopped it into his mouth. 

“No, no nap between, I wanna sit outside Doc’s office like before to make sure I’m not late.” You mumbled and stacked a piece of cheese on an apple slice. Doc was your therapist that was assigned to you a little while before your injury, Bucky wasn’t the only one who got nightmares and manic episodes; you probably got them more. Bucky knew he couldn’t go into your therapy meeting, he could physically go in but it went against his morals, this was your time to be alone and completely vulnerable to a human that you only see one or twice a week, he didn’t want you to sugar coat anything just because he wa sitting there. 

Bucky nodded and hummed before pulling the notebook out of the bedside table’s drawer, your combat backpack which you used for everything between missions and a picnic in the park was curled over itself in the corner of your room. Bucky picked it up and headed back to bed to let it rest there as he packed. He did this when you weren’t injured, Bucky had sadly realized your memory was a little shot from the amount of bootleg brainwashing and head injuries. You’d constantly forget about appointments or missions, or even the date. 

“Baby, I told you, your birthday is today, that’s why I got flowers.” Bucky said and pointed to the counter with the bright flowers on it. 

“No…” you rubbed the front of your head. “My birthday isn’t today, I forget the day- but it’s not today, I swear.” 

He slid in your journal that you used to write down lists and memories, you had used a guitar pick as your bookmark even though you can’t play anymore. Sometimes when you’d show up to a therapy session you’d forget what you wanted to say, it hurt him when he’d walk you there and you’d be saying the list of things under your breath with your eyes closed. Nightmare, mom, picking my nails, ankle, nightmare, sand, flowers. 

“We gotta go soon, anyways, wanna get ready for the day?” Bucky softly asked, there was no nice way of telling your loved one they needed to shower. 

“Sure,” you looked down at the plate and grabbed the last of it before getting up, the apple and cheese was just curled in the palm of your hand, as you walked over you shoved it all into your mouth because you knew you had to shower and you didn’t like soggy cheese. 

“I’ll keep packing your bag, and I’ll fill a water bottle for you.” Bucky had been your human crutch as you walked to the bathroom, you had an itch down in your cast that was bugging you. 

Tony had wanted to add tech to the shower to help you stand because putting pressure on your left leg hurt after three minutes and seven seconds- not that you were timing to see how long you could go without collapsing. You had said no to tech and just asked for a bar, Bucky even thought it would be cool but it was all up to you. 

Bucky helped you slip out of your clothes before leaving you be, he knew he would have to check on you periodically because you were too stubborn to ask for help if you had fallen or couldn’t get in the shower. You gripped onto the metal bar and helped yourself slip in, you turned the water on right away. 

You liked warm, long showers. You just let the water hit your skin as you stood in front of the shower head, the water pressure was high so you let the bullets hit your face when your eyes were closed. Your hair got wet as you stood there, you reached for the bottle of shampoo and expected it to be where it always was. The was getting into your eyes and when you squinted to see where the bottle was everything was double, as you reached for the bottle you had actually reached for the fake double and knocked the bottle off the ledge. A loud thump rang through the bathroom and it sounded like a bomb. 

There was one second of silence before you heard scrambling from outside the bathroom door, all at once you could see the door swing open by its shadow through the curtain. The curtain was pulled back so hard a couple of ringlets holding it up were ripped off. 

“Baby?” Bucky yelled before he registered you were standing upright. “What?” he breathed heavily, he was completely expecting you to be passed out on the floor with a cracked skull. 

“Shampoo bottle,” you said meekly. 

“Oh, thank god…” Bucky sighed to himself as he reached down to pick it up. “Are you hurt at all, did you fall?” He placed the bottle back on the ledge which made him reach across your naked body, on his way back his hand touched your shoulder then went to cup your cheek and move your head to look at him. 

“I’m all good, babe.” You smiled, an exhausting smile. 

“Alright, back-is-packed, finish up and I'll help you over to physio, alright?” Bucky closed the curtain to give privacy but waited for a verbal answer. 

“Perfect, thank you.” You grabbed the bottle again, your heart ached for him to be in the shower with you, it was something you did all the time before you were injured. 

“Don’t thank me, pretty lady.” Bucky reached for the door and opened it, before he could walk out, your voice quietly called his name, he could barely hear it over the water in the shower. “Yes?” he replied with the same softness. 

“Stay here with me, please.” the ‘please’ came after a beat, and extra plea. 

“Always,” Bucky sat on the toilet seat and gave the company you needed as you tried to stick your finger down your cast to itch that one spot on your leg. 

*****

Soon enough you were sat in the physio room, Bucky was off to the side with paper work in his lap and a binder in your backpack he packed for you. You liked the moral support when you were here because you never really had the best experience with doctors, Bucky would act like he wasn’t even there. That was a good thing, he did need to be the hovering boyfriend all the time because that can get tiring for both parties. He’d look up and listen to the doctor near the end, Bucky would write down the exercises and when to do them so he could gently remind you later. 

“Alright, you’re gonna get a new cast next week,” the doctor smiled at you, when you didn’t pick up on the excitement the doctor’s smile faded. “That means three quarters done!” Bucky had looked up and smiled, even clapped a couple times. 

“Then I have to learn how to walk again,” that was an exaggeration but it didn’t feel like one. 

The doctor gave a knowing look, “why do I feel like you’re already walking without the crutches?” You didn’t say anything because it was true. 

Your leg was examined and x-rayed, Bucky held onto your necklace as you went in. Your mind faded in and out as the doctor spewed ‘doctor stuff’ at you, you just didn’t have the care to listen; but Bucky did. He’s the type of guy to take notes and research later. 

Bucky would look over and see you looking at the floor, not even paying attention. He knew he couldn't get mad at you, you both dealt with injury very similarly. But something about seeing you shut down entirely made his heart ache, he wanted to reach out and lift the corners of your lips up into a smile because they seemed like they were being weighed down, he couldn’t remember the last time you smiled and real smile. He hadn’t been going on mission to keep you company, but now he knew his most important mission.

He walked you over to your therapy session that was still in the building, your Doc would come to the Avenger tower. He’d walk you right to the door of some random debrief room and kiss you goodbye. Bucky would hold your shoulders and gently rub your arms to hype you up before going in, he gave his little speech and said the same thing after. 

“You know I love you, and I know it’s hard.” he’d then kiss your cheeks and forehead. “I’ll be right here when you’re done, don’t even sweat it, pretty lady.” He then wouldn’t leave until the door closed and he heard muffled voices. 

The tower was right in the heart of the city, everything he needed was right there and a walking distance away. He slipped on a long sleeve and his gloves, he knew you took the backpack but you also had reusable bags, he took a few and headed out into the summer heat, it wasn’t humid today which was great but it wasn’t cold either. The tote bag was slung over his shoulder, all that was in it right now as a list. 

flowers 

chocolate

card

stuffed animal 

To call Bucky a romantic would seem weird to someone who only knew of him from the news or a museum, you knew him as a total hopeless romantic. Even in the 40’s, Bucky was the type of person to keep their walls up until he really got to know and trust you. It would normally be one little thing that would allow him to truly be himself around someone, he let his guard down that day you were walking to the restaurant he made a reservation at, Bucky placed himself so that arm or hand you’d hold would be his right but when you caught on you walk around him and looped both arms around his left, metal arm. After that, he was goner. 

He’d leave little sticky notes everywhere, a blue square paper in the coffee mug that read: ‘make sure you only drink one cup!’ or another on your shampoo bottle: ‘you look great naked ;)’. Bucky knew the little things mattered to you and vice versa, he knew that grand gestures didn’t mean anything without a little kiss that came before. 

The flower shop smelt great, Bucky didn’t know much about plants but he knew which ones you’d like. He was thinking of putting one on each bedside so whenever you’re lying in bed- which was a lot -you could look at some pretty flowers. They were a nice shade of purple and the stems were not too long, Bucky bought them and put them gently in his tote bag before heading over two stores to the grocery store you always shop at.

He was envyus of your clean eating, you’d eat what you want but you’d shop at fermer’s markets and organic stores. Bucky didn’t know it made a difference. He went to the frozen section and found chocolate covered strawberries. Bucky picked up a little pack of eight and headed to the front. There were also flowers there but they didn’t look nearly as nice. All he wanted was a very simple cute card with a blank inside, they were easy to find. It was cream coloured with a little sketch of a fuzzy, brown teddy bear holding a yellow balloon. All it said in dainty cursive at the top was: “look at you go!” Bucky knew this was perfect. Near the cards were little toys and stuffed animals. He found a bear that looked eerily similar to the one on the card but without the balloon. 

As he walked into the Avenger’s tower the bag was full and he had enough time to spare to set things up. Bucky headed to the rooms and made the bed, he changed the sheets as well because he knew you liked them when they were crisp. The teddy sat right in the middle with the card next to it. Bucky had written a little note that covered the entire right side of the card. He got a bowl from the kitchen and filled it with ice, he also found that white wine you liked and stuck it on there with the strawberries just to keep them cool but not melted. 

Bucky glanced at his watch and felt almost giddy as he realized it was time to head over to the conference room, he had to work on not giving it away when he’d first see you with his wide smile. The walk to the room was quick because of how fast Bucky was walking, he turned the corners sharp and almost jogged down the hall down the meeting rooms. He only stood there for about three seconds before the door slowly opened, Doc had opened the door and helped you out. Bucky’s smile turned into complete worry when you walked out holding a tissue to your nose, your eyes were red and puffy. Bucky also noticed that your fingernails were red and bleeding, that was one habit you were currently trying to break. 

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked in quiet disbelief, his eyebrows almost touching. 

Doc gave a curt nod, “we talked about a lot of things,” her answers were always so vague. 

You sniffled and waited for Doc to leave down the hall, Bucky was still looking at you. His hands held your shoulders and gently massaged the answer out of you. 

“It was a good cry, I needed that.” you sighed from exhaustion. 

A little piece of Bucky’s heart broke, if you needed to have a good cry then you could have told him, he would’ve listened. Bucky started to go back and see where it went wrong, if he was too overbearing and if this whole afternoon he had planned was created at a very wrong time. He wanted to ask what he did wrong but what came out was different. “Well that’s good to hear, I know Doc is good at that- helping you out.” His words were true but something about the delivery made it seem uneasy. 

“I just-” you looked to the ceiling and hoped to find the words you needed written there. “I like flushing it all out to her because I won’t see her for a week and I don’t need to keep up with what I’m feeling. I always cry to you but Doc is just really good at explaining how I feel, you’re there to validate it and make me feel soothed.” You held his left hand as you both walked down the hallway. “I feel lighter, like, I feel better.”

“That’s always good, sweetheart,” Bucky made sure you were putting weight on him because you didn’t bring your crutches but you really should have. “I have a little treat for you,” He turned to face you when you both stood at his door, Bucky kept his hand on the door handle. “I know it’s been a rough few weeks but I hope you know I love you all the same, and all I see is my strong, beautiful girlfriend.” Bucky saw your confused face, as he opened the door to reveal a dim lit room with flowers, wine and a teddy your eye welled up with tears again. 

You gasped and put your hands on your chest, “for me?” your voice shook as you walked in, you peered into the ice bucket to see your favourite wine and some food as well as a card beside the ice bucket, under the teddy. Tears flowed down your face as the feeling of being overwhelmed washed over you, you could barely string a sentence together. A hand waved the gifts all away, “too much,” was all you could muster. 

“No, baby,” Bucky smiled, he walked over and pulled you into a hug. “Nothing will ever be too much for you.”

He let you cry in his chest for a very long time, you both ended up sitting on the edge of the bed as he stroked all the way up your back. His hand would bunch up your hair as he went up to your neck. His lips were right at your ear, all he whispered were sweet nothings and a calming ‘shh’ once and a while. When you had a little composure Bucky reached for the card, as you read it your lips trembled even more. A hand stayed glued to your heart as your body warmed at loving words, you could barely read it with blurry vision from the tears but it still seemed crystal clear. Your finger traced over the signature: ‘love you to the moon and back, Bucky’. And you crumbled again, your forehead hit his chest as you cried away all the pent up emotion you thought you flushed out at your therapy session. 

With all the crying you were so tired, Bucky had thrown on a movie you two could watch while enjoying your strawberries and wine. You only had two and half a cup before you were snoring on Bucky’s shoulder, he tried to nudge you a couple times but nothing worked at all. He watched the movie on his own and saved the last two strawberries for you in the morning. You didn’t even wake up at him getting up and leaving the room. When he came back he got you out of your day clothes and into something comfy. 

*****

You woke up to the sun hitting your back, when your eyes opened they focused on the flowers and a smile graced your face. It was the first time in a long time since you smiled with your eyes, a little giggle even slipped out. 

At that sound Bucky walked out of the bathroom, “well there she is,” he smiled wide. 

“What does that mean?” you wiped the drool from the side of your mouth, “I had a nap, a really good one, too.” You seemed to be bragging. 

“A nap? Baby, it’s eight.” Bucky raised his eyebrows. 

“Ya, I fell asleep at about five so I had a three hour nap, no biggie.” You rolled on your back and stretched out, your gaze moved back to Bucky when you heard a giggle, “what?” you laughed back. 

“Eight in the morning, the next day. Your three hour nap was actually a well deserved fifteen hour hibernation.” Bucky joined you on the bed. 

“That’s why I feel so good,” you sighed, you looked over to Bucky and swatted his chest at his little smirk. “Don’t think like that.” 

“I bet I can make you feel just as good-”

You cut him off with a kiss.

[barnes-dameron]

Balance

*gif not mine

The Mandalorian x Jedi!Reader

Summary: Upon arriving on Corvus, you realize you won’t be able to hide your secret from your Mandalorian traveling partner forever, especially since the Jedi you encounter asks a lot of questions...

Word Count: 4.1k 

A/N: Spoilers for Chapter 13 so read at your own risk! I think we all need a little something after the tragedy in Chapter 14. By the way, this is a gender-neutral reader ;)

***

The closer you got to Corvus, the further down your stomach sank to the floor. Your heart beat faster against your rib cage as anticipation rose inside you. The day that the Mandalorian came to you saying that he knows where to find a Jedi for the Child, you were shocked. Of course you were happy that the kid will finally get a teacher, but you were shocked that there were still Jedi around. 

Your leg bounced up and down as the landscape of Corvus came to view in the windshield. You took a deep breath, and left the cockpit, trying to avoid any questions that the Mandalorian might ask. The Child was asleep in his little hammock, and your heart ached for the little guy. From the first moment you saw him, you knew something was special about him. Well, you sensed it, really. And you hoped that the Child wouldn’t say anything, and thankfully, he didn’t.

You reached over, and picked up the tiny creature, his black eyes revealing themselves as his green lids pulled back. 

“Listen,” you whispered, bringing his face close to yours. “When we find that Jedi, you don’t say anything, got it? Do not blow this for us.” 

Of course, he didn’t repsond to your warning, but instead cocked his head and cooed. You rolled your eyes and shifted him so he was sitting on your hip. 

“We’re here,” the Mandalorian announced as he climbed down the ladder and opened the hatch door. 

You took another deep breath, and straightened your back before following the Mandalorian out.

***

You’ve been wandering around the forest on Corvus for a while now, your stomach turning with every step. After visiting the seemingly enslaved village and meeting the Magistrate, you followed the Mandalorian into the wilderness to find the Jedi named Ahsoka Tano. 

You constantly turned your head in search for the Jedi, dreading the impending moment of your meeting. You rested your hand on your blaster, your heart beating rapidly. 

“So you’re not really gonna kill this Jedi, right?” you asked, looking at your beskar clad companion with wide eyes. 

“No,” he simply replied.

You nodded, looking about your surroundings again. The Mandalorian set the Child down on a nearby rock, bringing his binoculars to his visor. You were so in depth in your own thoughts and anxieties that you didn’t even hear him talking. Sweat was collecting on your brow as you thought about what this Jedi will be like. You have heard stories of her bravery and her part in the Clone Wars, but that was years ago. Was she a different person now? Would she try to kill the Mandalorian? A crack from a tree drew you out of your thoughts, and a person descended from above. 

You moved over to the Child, reaching for your blaster as the Mandalorian struggled with the intruder. But the sight of the white lightsabers didn’t do anything to relax you. You could feel the heat from the Mandalorian’s flame thrower as he set her cloak on fire. You thought she was contained once he tied her, but never under estimate a Jedi. She gave him a smirk before jumping up, back bending over a branch, dragging the Mandalorian with her. Once on the ground, she ignited her lightsabers, freeing herself from the restraints, and preparing herself in a battle stance.  

“Ahsoka Tano,” the Mandalorian yelled. “Bo-Katan sent me. We need to talk.” 

You watched as she straightened herself from her fighting stance, pulling back her sabers to her sides. She was as intimidating as you imagined. 

“I hope it’s about him,” she said, looking over to the spot where you and the Child were.  

***

Your leg once again was bouncing as you settled yourself on rock. The Mandalorian’s pacing was no help to you at all, only increasing your nerves. You looked over at the campfire, with Ahsoka and the Child just staring at each other in silence. You have heard about this technique, in fact it was how you were found out years ago on Tatooine. 

Mando’s pacing wouldn’t cease, much to your annoyance. You never done what you were about to do, but you needed to know what was going on in his head. You were always so careful to hide your true identity from the man, in fear of what he would do to you if he uncovered the truth. However, something didn’t rub you right. You closed your eyes, concentrating and reaching out into the darkness. You could sense his own anxiety about the situation, but you left it there. If you lingered too long, he could catch wind. Ever since you came across him and the kid on his first trip to Tatooine, you could sense the bond between the two. When he mentioned about finding the Child a teacher, you knew it would be difficult for him. 

The Mandalorian stopped and began to make his way towards Ahsoka who was holding the Child. You got up from where you were perched and followed your companion. You listened carefully to everything that Ahsoka said, from the time of Child’s training up to the present. Plus, you were pleasantly surprised to find his name was Grogu. Ahsoka ended the conversation on a hopeful note of Grogu’s training in the morning. You nodded, getting up from your spot as Mando grabbed the Child, Grogu, to prepare a place to make for camp. 

“Wait,” Ahsoka spoke up, getting your attention. “Can you stay here for a minute?” You nodded to her, sitting on a nearby log before waving off Mando, who nodded and continued to make his way. You pressed your lips into a thin line while clearing your head from any impending thoughts. Your heart was pounding once again. You rubbed your hands over your thighs. “You know a blaster isn’t a Jedi weapon.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, gripping your thighs in defense. 

“Really?” Ahsoka replied. “Because Grogu said something very interesting-”

“Dammit,” you whispered, dropping your head while letting out a sigh. “What did he say?” 

“He mentioned that you knew the Force,” Ahsoka began. “But you were hiding it.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “That sounds about right.” 

Ahsoka was quiet for a moment, and you felt her eyes peering into you despite your steady gaze on the forest floor. 

“Where are you from?” she asked. 

“Tatooine,” you mumbled, before meeting her eyes. 

She nodded, shifting in her seat a bit. 

“Have you practiced with a lightsaber?” she questioned, quirking up an eyebrow. 

“Once,” you revealed. “But my master thought it would be too dangerous to have one with the Empire and all so-”

“Wait,” Ahsoka interjected, holding up a hand. “Who was your master?” 

You realized your mistake. The air escaped your lungs as your heart sank to your stomach. You got up from your seat abruptly. What you needed to keep a secret, you almost let out. 

“No one important,” you said. “It’s late, so I’m going to go get some rest.”

You didn’t wait to hear her reply. You practically ran back to the Mandalorian, who was resting his head on a log as he laid on the ground. Grogu was nestled in one of arms, fast asleep. 

You tiptoed to where they were at on the ground, and moved to lay beside Mando, with your back to him and an inch or two between your bodies. You tried to even out your breathing, and put aside the questions that Ahsoka was asking. You had one job, and you almost blew it from the slight excitement that maybe you weren’t alone in the galaxy.

“What did she want?” Mando asked, his voice tinged with sleepiness and gruff through the modulator. 

“Nothing important,” you lied, turning over to face him. “Just some stuff about the Child.” 

Mando hummed, then out-stretched his arm as an invitation. You moved closer to him, placing your head on the clothed part of his bicep. Mando’s hand rested on your hip, and began to draw shapes with his thumb. 

“Do you think she will be a good teacher for him?” he asked, uncertainty laced in his voice. 

“I do,” you answered. 

You closed your eyes and started to drift into sleep, trying in vain to forget about Ahsoka for now. 

***

You were awoken from your sleep when a hard object was dropped on your stomach, the air from your lungs escaping. Your eyes flew open as you went to cradled your abdomen. A gasp nearly escaped your lips if it wasn’t for a hand covering your mouth. You looked up to see Ahsoka crouched above you, pressing a finger to her lips before motioning her head to follow her. She retracted her hand, and walked off. You took a deep breath, and looked over to Mando. For being a well trained Mandalorian, he can sleep like the dead when he wanted to. 

You slipped out from his arm, grabbing at the object that Ahsoka dropped on you. On closer inspection, you realized it was one of her lightsabers. Anger rose in you for her lack of dropping a topic. You marched over to where she stood, a good distance away from the Mandalorian and Child. 

“What the hell!” you whispered yelled, waving your arms. 

“A Jedi needs to practice,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders before igniting her lightsaber, illuminating her features in the darkness. 

“I’m not a Jedi,” you said through gritted teeth. “I’m just Force-sensitive.” 

“Oh really?” Ahsoka said in unbelief. Ahsoka reached her hand out, lifting up a rock that was a bit bigger than the Child’s size, and threw it at you. Panic arose at first, but by instinct, you rose your hand out in response. The rock was suspended in mid air right before your face. “I usually wouldn’t do that unless I knew for certain. That was just to show you that I didn’t believe you.”

You dropped your hand, the rock falling in front of you. You tightened your grip on Ahsoka’s lightsaber. If this is what she wants, then it’s what she’s going to get. You ignited the lightsaber in your hand, shifting your feet to a fighting stance that your Master once taught you. You saw the slight smirk that appeared on Ahsoka’s face as she too brought her lightsaber up with her backhand. 

 Ahsoka was the first to lunge forward, bringing down her saber onto yours as you rose it in a defense. You kept your feet planted to the ground as you pushed forward, then swung at Ahsoka, who blocked your advance. It was like a choreograph dance as you and Ahsoka sparred around the open space. The sound of the colliding beams filled the air along with your grunts. The lights of the clashing sabers nearly blinded you several times, but you didn’t let that stop you. You were taught better. You pushed Ahsoka aside one more time, before she looked at you, straightening her back. 

“Who was your Master?” Ahsoka asked through deep breaths. 

You ignored her question, and lunged forward again, bringing your lightsaber down on Ahsoka who blocked it last second. She pushed against the collided sabers, using more strength than before, causing you to stumble back. While caught off guard, Ahsoka bent down, swiping a leg against yours, making you fall down on the ground. The lightsaber flew out of your hand, switching off before Ahsoka grabbed it. She once again stood above you, but this time her lightsaber hovered over your face. 

“I’m going to ask you this one more time,” she reiterated. “Who was your Master?” 

You gave her a smirk, before reaching out your hand. The unlit lightsaber flew out of Ahsoka’s hand, returning once again to yours. You ignited the saber, clashing it against hers so it was away from you. You lifted your leg, and pushed Ahsoka with your foot. She fell backwards, but quickly got up, however you were faster. You scrambled to your feet, lightsaber in hand, and jumped onto a nearby boulder. You looked down at Ahsoka, switching off your lightsaber. 

“Obi Wan Kenobi,” you revealed. 

Ahsoka stumbled back, turning off her saber as her eyes widen down at you. You moved down from the boulder to a sitting position on the floor, watching Ahsoka’s reaction while trying to catch your breath from your bout. She let out a little laugh before sitting down across from you. 

“Obi Wan trained you?” she asked. 

You nodded.

“It seems like a forever ago, but yes,” you began. “I was living on Tatooine, and he found me. He only taught me little stuff like using the Force, and had me mess around with a lightsaber once. He was afraid that if I grew too much that the Empire will notice, so he ended our training.” 

You looked down at the forest floor, admiring the tangled roots from the nearby trees. So different from the sands of Tatooine. You remembered Obi Wan’s kind face and smooth instruction. He was always so patient with you even if you doubted yourself. You remembered the time when you went to visit him, but found his hermit’s hole empty. You waited for so long, but he never returned. You thought back to the time where you sat in his place, reaching out through the Force to feel him. But emptiness filled you when you couldn’t feel him. Looking up at Ahsoka’s sad eyes, you sensed that she knew about his absence in the galaxy as well. 

“I can see some of him in you when you fight,” Ahsoka said, fingering her lightsaber. “But I sense some fear in you.” You gulped, looking down again at the ground. “What are you afraid of?” 

You took a deep breath, thinking about your beskar clad warrior who you temporarily left behind. There was no way that you could hide anything from the Jedi before you. 

“I don’t know,” you started, rubbing your hands over your forearms.

Ahsoka smirked again, putting her hands behind her to lean back. 

“It’s the Mandalorian isn’t it?” she inquired, cocking up an eyebrow. 

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I try to conceal my identity from him because I’m afraid how he would react. Everyone knows that Mandalorians and Jedi aren’t on the friendliest of terms-”

“That’s an understatement,” Ahsoka snorted. 

“And,” you continued. “I don’t want him to hate me. I mean the kid-”

“Grogu,” Ahsoka corrected.

“Knew about who I am,” you continued, once again. “He used the Force multiple times in front of the Mandalorian but he’s only a child. And he was given the task to help him find a teacher. I’m not a kid, and if he finds out, I’m just scared that he’ll leave.” 

Ahsoka sat there, absorbing everything while nodding. She tilted her head. 

“You love him don’t you?” Ahsoka asked, already knowing the answer. 

“Yes,” you replied. 

***

You listened to the villagers’ joyous noises as they celebrated the victory over the Magistrate. Their outfits changed from dreary gray and brown to green and blue. You assisted Ahsoka and Mando in freeing the city, shooting down droids and defending the villagers. Despite all the fighting and blaster shots, you were impressed to see how well you all worked together, especially Mando and Ahsoka. If anything, it gave you hope for your situation. But was it different for them compared to you? Does he rather work with a Jedi who he has never met before to one who was hiding their identity to him? You shook the question aside, choosing to instead watch the people. Ahsoka smiled in pride, and gave over the pure beskar staff to the Mandalorian before he set off to retrieve the Child. 

You waited alongside the Jedi, admiring the people’s celebration as they reinstated their original leader before the Empire took over. But some time has passed, and the Mandalorian was no where in sight. After much silent deliberation, you and Ahsoka decided to head over to the Razor Crest instead. 

You navigated through the foliage, dodging roots and rocks here and there. It was silent between the two of you until Ahsoka broke it. 

“You know I can’t train him,” she said, repeating her conclusion from yesterday morning. 

You let out a sigh, remembering how Grogu proved himself with moving his favorite metal ball from Mando’s hand to his. You were so proud with him, but that was instantly crushed when Ahsoka gave her verdict. You glanced down at the forest floor, reevaluating your options for the little guy, but it was slim to none. 

“What if I trained him?” you asked, looking up to see her reaction only to be met with a blank expression. “I don’t know much, but I could teach him how to control it and when to use it. Plus, Master Obi Wan taught me about meditation so-”

“Y/N,” Ahsoka interrupted holding up a hand, and stopping in her tracks. You ceased your walking in return, looking at her. Ahsoka shook her head, her eyebrows coming together as she looked down before meeting your gaze. “You can’t train him either.”

“Why not?” you demanded, disbelief creeping in your voice. “He needs someone to help him, he’s just a child-”

“You have an attachment as well,” Ahsoka interjected. You felt like she just punched you in the stomach. It was true, but knowing that she could tell and hearing her say it out loud made it sound so real. You stared at her in a loss of words. “Jedi cannot have any attachments, it could lead you down a dark path. Like Grogu, you were in hiding too, in a way. It’s just not wise.”

Ahsoka returned to her walking, leaving you standing there. Obi Wan did tell you the stories and lore of the Jedi, and everything about the Light and Dark side. He instilled the principles of the Light side, and you always planned to uphold them, despite your slight attachment to the Mandalorian. You jogged to catch up with Ahsoka. 

“You’re wrong,” you said, holding up an air of confidence. “I won’t let my attachment lead me anywhere near the Dark side.”

“Funny,” Ahsoka replied. “I knew someone who thought the same.”

“Unlike that person,” you defended. “I will succeed.” 

“A Mandalorian and a Jedi,” Ahsoka hummed, looking up at the gray sky above you two. “Quite a combination.”

You shrugged your shoulders, before looking over at her. She met your gaze as she raised an eyebrow at you. 

“It’s all about balance,” you said. 

***

The hull in the Razor Crest was quiet except for the little noises coming from Grogu. The Mandalorian resided in the cockpit as he set the coordinates to your next destination. You could tell how lost he was when Ahsoka reaffirmed her previous conclusion to him, but she didn’t leave you totally in the dark. She provided you some instructions to find Grogu a teacher and to decide his fate, but you yourself were uneasy in the whole matter. You knew you could train him. Hell, you even came across him, and you’re a Jedi. 

You looked down at the little green creature who was sitting in your lap, his dark eyes staring up at you. You bounced him a little, while he giggled. 

“What are we going to do with you, Grogu?” you asked, meaning for it to be rhetorical, but he tilted his head at you at the mention of his name. “By the way, I didn’t forget what you did. You really had to tell Ahsoka about me, traitor? We had a deal.” 

You knew he wouldn’t say anything, but you still smiled at him. You pet his ears, and he cooed with content. 

“I can’t be mad at you,” you sighed. 

Your attention was pulled away from Grogu when the sound of boots hitting the metal rungs of the ladder echoed throughout the haul. The Mandalorian approached you, his figure towering over you while casting a shadow. He bent down, and picked up the Child, before returning him to his hammock in the bunk. Mando shut the door before turning to you, his gaze burning a hole into you despite the beskar helmet. 

“We need to talk,” he said, stepping closer to where you were seated in the haul. 

“About what?” you questioned, blood roaring in your ears as fear gripped your heart. What if he knew?

“I saw you,” Mando began, his voice even and steady. “That night on Corvus, you left with Ahsoka. I followed you. I saw you. You have the same power as the kid. You used a lightsaber like Ahsoka.” With every sentence, the Mandalorian took a step forward until he was right before you. Your heart hammered in your chest, tears brimming the rims of your eyes as you tried to keep your emotions in check. What if this was it? You couldn’t bear to leave him and the Child, but now it seems like you have no choice. You took a deep breath, watching him carefully. He gave off no inclination on what he’s about to do. His hands were steady by his sides, his breathing was even, and his voice was unwavering. “Are you a Jedi?” 

“Yes,” you whispered, looking at the floor instead of his visor. You gripped your  own arms with a vice, reminding you to stay grounded before getting overwhelmed. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his features unchanging. 

You swallowed a lump in your throat before standing up. You needed to face your fear, and not let it overcome you. You straightened your back, staring into the expressionless helmet. 

“Because I was scared,” you started. “I was scared that you wouldn’t want to take me on as a crew mate. I was scared that you would desert me on a planet all by myself. I was scared that I would lose you. The Mandalorians’ enemy is the Jedi, and I was scared that if you found out you wouldn’t want anything to do with me-”

You were cut off when Mando grabbed your biceps, pulling you forward until you were wrapped in his arms. Your cheek was pressed against his chest plate, his hands pressing into your back. You were silenced by his sudden actions. You wound your arms around him, before letting the tears fall from your eyes to run down the beskar. He didn’t want to kill you, or leave you. He wasn’t disgraced by taking in the enemy of his people. Instead, he was embracing one. 

“Listen to me,” he said. “I would never do that to you. After everything we’ve been through, I could never do that to you. I care about you, Y/N.” He pulled you back a bit, while keeping his hands on you. You stared up at the helmet, but if you looked closely, you could see the outline of his eyes. He caressed your cheek, the leather of his gloves soft against your cheek. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum,” he said, his voice softening. 

You didn’t know what he meant, but from his tender caresses and gentle voice, you knew he was speaking from his heart. 

“So you don’t mind having a Jedi on board with you?” you asked, humor hinted in your voice. 

“No,” he replied. “Now two Jedi, I might have to think about it.”

You gave him a playful punch to his bicep, a laugh coming from his modulator. His hands came to rest on your hips, before he reached in one of your pockets, and pulling out a small object. 

“What’s this?” Mando asked, holding the object up in the light. 

You grabbed the object from his hand, and held it up higher. 

“It’s a kyber crystal,” you answered, admiring the gift from Ahsoka. Before departing from Corvus, she pulled you aside once again, handing you the crystal. You were a Jedi after all, and she thought you should have a Jedi weapon instead of carrying around a blaster. Though Obi Wan is gone, she wanted you to know that there are more Jedi out there. “They power lightsabers. Ahsoka gave it to me so I can construct my own lightsaber when I’m ready. But I don’t think I’m going to do it.”

“Why not?” Mando questioned. 

“Well, our focus is the Child. We don’t exactly have time to stop everything to build one,” you tried to reason.

“Not now,” he said. “But maybe in the near future.” 

“Really?” you asked, excitement in your voice. “You would help me?”

“Of course, cyar’ika,” he affirmed. “A Mandalorian and a Jedi, they’ll never see it coming.”

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum- I love you 

Mando Taglist: @absurdthirst @tangledlove27

[highdramas]

the billboard said the end is near | b.b.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: language, possible tfatws spoilers, canon typical violence, bucky is soft and loves his doll and will do anything to keep her safe

word count: 2184

summary: bucky is protective over what has given him solace.

note: here's tawlb part 4! you don’t have to read these in order, they stand independently, but they do all work together! PLEASE leave feedback/reblog! this is extremely helpful for me writing future parts to know what everyone likes or doesn’t like!

enjoy! <3

chaos has always controlled your life.

in all of the best ways, and all of the worst ones, too. in the best ways, it has allowed you to not take life too seriously. it has allowed you to let things roll off your shoulders and keep your easy breezy demeanor. you like to think that you don’t allow the little things to affect you-- you also note that it’s because the big things have been so all consuming.

who knew that turning to dust for five years would turn your life into such a shit show?

the five years hadn’t felt like five years to you at all. it felt like one day, you had been laying on your couch watching tv, and then five years later you were appearing in someone else’s apartment. all of your things, gone.

you will never forget their screams as they watched you materialize from nothing.

of course, you can’t blame them. and it wasn’t just this apartment. the screams and the chaos broke through the entire building. people busting from doors, crying and scrambling to use their cell phones, to see if this was really happening.

the couple that had moved into your apartment after you dusted had been kind, all things considered. the woman had held you and you could feel her crying and she kept saying do you have family? do you know their numbers?

finally, you couldn’t help yourself. you had asked, “what happened to me?”

“you’ve been gone for five years, honey.”

these sorts of revelations had ruled your life for the months since you came back.

like when you called your boyfriend only to find out that he was engaged.

like when you found out that you certainly didn’t have a job anymore.

like when you found out that you had no apartment, no savings, no anything. nothing left.

it has been over a year since the blip and you are still feeling the repercussions from it. you are still feeling the hurt of having your life upended, you are still feeling the hurt of missing a life that went on without you. it’s hard not to daydream about what could’ve been. what could’ve stayed the same.

then bucky looks at you, and you’re reminded that not all change is bad.

change is hard but you know that he kisses you and it makes your brain fuzzy, he lays you back on your mattress and he stays with you until the sun rises. change is hard but you introduce him as my boyfriend, james to every new person you meet and you watch as he smiles and pride lingers in his eyes and he carefully places his arm around your shoulders. change is hard but he doesn’t wear the gloves around you anymore.

change is hard, but bucky is better than any of it.

he’s been gone more than normal lately.

of course, you understand. and, really, you think it might be good for him. not the fighting-- while you understand the benefit it has for him, the purpose that it gives him, that’s not the thing that you believe serves him best. no, it is sam. it is sam’s family. it is knowing that there are other people out there in the world who are looking at him the same way that you look at him.

okay, maybe not exactly the same.

bucky had sent you a text from that stupid dinky flip phone that morning, saying that he would be home that night. the implications go unsaid.

you and the winter soldier have formed quite the routine-- he has a key to your apartment on his keyring (it’s a disney princess key. it’s the only spare that you had, and the laughter that erupted from you had made him relent in trying to barter for the cat printed key you have). he’s going to let himself in, probably around ten. you’ll already have the chinese takeout spread out on the table. you’ll spread your arms out and do little jazz hands towards the food and you’ll say, “ta-da.”

and you will watch as the tension in his shoulders starts to ease and he sets his duffel bag down in your entryway and he will cross the room to you. his arms will snake around your waist and his face will be buried into the crook of your neck. he will sigh and you will stroke his hair and you will say, “welcome home, buck.”

but now, it is nine. it is nine and you are curled up on your couch and kitty rests in your lap and you feel yourself growing antsy waiting for bucky to come home. she looks up at you and lets out that little trill as you scratch her head and you smile.

the smiling doesn’t last long.

the building that you and bucky live in is not swanky by any means. it was built in the 40s, with creaky floors and ugly carpeted hallways. the walls are thin and you can hear everything-- really, everything. and the shouting and commotion is certainly not typical.

you move to stand just as the door bursts--or explodes, you’re not sure which is the better word-- open. a scream leaves your lips and you hold onto your cat for dear life, scrambling back into your bedroom and clicking the door behind you. your limbs are shaking and you nearly trip over your dresser and your cat nearly claws your arm off.

you hear bucky before you see him.

“you really think i wasn’t gonna find out about this little stunt?” you’ve never heard his voice like this-- so low, so full of absolute rage. “you’re out of your fucking mind.”

the other person is stammering and though you don’t see the blow that bucky lands on their face, you do hear the aftermath. bucky is talking to someone and you finally set your cat down and you hear bucky on the other side of the door. “doll, it’s me.”

you open the door and look at him with a pounding heart and shaking hands. he looks just as shaken, but more than that-- he’s angry. his fists are clenched at his sides. “buck--” you lay a hand on your chest and you try to gain control of your breathing and you can see that he is doing the same. “what happened?”

bucky hesitates. you watch the gears turning in his head, and it makes your head tilt to the side. “bucky, i’m not kidding-- tell me.”

“we were on our way back and sam got a tip from torres that the flag smashers were--” he cringes even at the thought and he shakes his head. “they were going to try and--”

you watch as he struggles to say it, to really say it, and you touch his face. the touch seems to open him up. his hand takes your wrist and he rubs his thumb along the bone. “they wanted to take you as a hostage.”

a hostage.

bucky opens his mouth to say something else as you blink, trying to wrap your mind around the fact that someone wanted to take you as a hostage, but sam interrupts him. “sharon’s got the guy in cuffs downstairs,” he says in your doorway. when you look, you can see that a mess has been made of your living room-- and not the sort of mess that you create. no, it is a mess of destruction and chaos. “i’m gonna head out. call me if you need anything, i’m staying in town.”

bucky nods and you muster up your best smile to sam and then you look at bucky and you say quietly, “can we go to your apartment?”

he nods and you scoop up kitty and you pad down the hall beside him, still in your loungewear and fuzzy socks. you notice that he constantly keeps a hand on you. whether it’s his fingers tangling with yours or his arm around your shoulders or his palm pressed into the small of your back-- you know exactly what it is that he’s doing, and you lean into every touch, hoping that the contact whispers i’m here, i’m here, i’m here, and you are not losing me.

kitty drops to the floor and, surprisingly, it’s bucky that speaks before you do. “you’re gonna move in here. with me.” he stares at you firmly. “i’m gonna make sure that you’re safe. and the safest place you can be is with me.”

you open your mouth to reply but he continues. “i can’t--” you watch the gears in his head turning, the scenarios turning over and over and over again in his mind. “i can’t lose you.”

“buck…” you move over to him and you place your hands on his face. his eyes are fixed on the wall behind your head, and you watch as guilt overcomes him and you can practically hear him saying if i hadn’t been there in time… “bucky, you’re not going to.”

you feel his hands fist into the material of your t shirt and he holds you even closer. “i’ll move in with you,” you finally whisper against the stubble of his jaw. “and not just for safety. because i want to live with you.”

bucky pulls away and he looks at you with a wobbling lip and you shush him. “i’m okay,” you whisper and you lean your forehead on his. “i’m okay, and i’m here, and i’m staying.”

“okay.”

his hand caresses the back of your head and you touch the place where his heart is. you watch his shoulders rise and fall, you watch his eyes flutter shut and you see some of the tension finally seep out of his pores. he opens his eyes at you and he looks so tired.

“i sleep on the floor,” he blurts it as he pulls away slightly. for a moment, it looks like he regrets it, the way that he winces slightly. “i don’t like… i don’t like sleeping in the bed. it’s too… soft. i always slept in your bed when i stayed over because i didn’t want you to wake up and i wasn’t there.”

“bucky…” you lean into every single place that he touches. “i’ll sleep on the floor with you.”

an incredulous sort of laugh leaves bucky as he stares down at you. he shakes his head a bit. “i don’t want you to do that.”

“i don’t care,” you say with a steely resolve and confident defiance, jutting your chin up at him. “because i’m sleeping next to you. tonight, and every night after. i don’t care where. i’ll never care where.”

bucky’s exhale is shaky and broad arms encircle your waist entirely, drawing you in closer and closer. his face presses into your neck, the exact way that you had imagined him coming home to you hours earlier. you can feel his lips pressing into your skin, can feel the sheer need in it. “i don’t deserve you,” every movement of his lips against your neck is entirely felt, sending sparks through your limbs. “i don’t know what i did to get this lucky.”

“shh,” you rake your fingernails down his scalp and you can feel his fingers gripping you tighter. “if you say that stupid shit again, i’ll kill you. you deserve me.” you tap his chin and he fixes his gaze on you. “and i deserve you. we deserve each other. we deserve to be happy. together. and i’m tired of people thinking otherwise.”

bucky finally cracks a smile. “you’re very stubborn.”

“i thought you liked that about me.”

“i love that about you.” he takes a beat. “among other things.”

you bite down on your lip and finally lean up on your tiptoes. “i promise i’ll be a good roommate.”

“that’s bullshit,” he says and his hands find the curve of your waist once more, traveling to your hips. “i’m going to be cleaning up after you every damn day.”

“yeah, probably.” your hand goes to the back of his head. “it will feel safe. staying here.”

bucky’s nose trails up the side of your face. “good.” he presses his lips to your jaw. “i’m sorry about your apartment. that fucker would’ve been dead if you weren’t there.” he grows more serious again. “i would never let anyone get away with anything like that. i will never let it get that far again, doll. i swear to god.”

“bucky,” you breathe. “i know. it’s okay.” you take his hand and you pull a few blankets off his couch, toss down a few pillows. “let’s go to sleep.”

there’s a twinkle in his eye as he watches you shuffle around his apartment, putting together a makeshift bed on the floor. you fluff the pillows before setting them down and you give him a smile that tells him everything is going to be alright.

even though he says you moving in is about keeping you safe… he sleeps that night on the hardwood, holding you, and he feels safer too.