#he told me to contact the support and tell them whats up to see if they'll insist on changing the ram for the same model

[spacemilkbag]

small blessings (will be able to listen to new drong when I wake up)

[featherymainffins]

Family is clearly just prolonging my and my mother's misery by forcing me to text her on special occasions and send her gifts, which is giving her false hope that her only boxing bag might come back and endure whatever she decides to take out on it again.

[silicacid]

I see the post about my cousin’s death has a community note citing the Hamburg police’s tweet calling it fake news. I would like to provide more insight to address these claims.

Mohammad is dead and the police are holding his body. They recently informed his sister that Mohammad’s death at 21 years old was of ‘natural causes’, an unbelievably suspicious determination. A plethora of journalists are contacting his immediate family, but the family is fearful that upon speaking up about his death, the police won’t send back his body. They are grieving heavily and for now just want him back home for a proper burial.

On the details of his death: His friends from university are the ones who relayed to the family that he was murdered, with two bullets to the head. I have been trying to contact these friends to get their full accounts, and if anyone can help me find them please let me know. His immediate family are aware that he was posting pro-Palestine content on his facebook, which is private at the moment, and they believe it led to his murder.

About my account of his death: I received a text on Wednesday morning that my cousin Mohammad was shot and killed in Germany for posting about Gaza. I was later informed he died the night before on Tuesday. Although I was not particularly close to him, I would see him at family gatherings growing up. I am only speaking on what I have been told from family.

I understand why this story is controversial- because of the ongoing genocide of Palestinians in Gaza, the greater problem of Islamophobia in the world, and now a magnifying glass on racism and potential corruption in Germany. Criticize the politics all you want, but to deny my cousin’s death is wrong.

As I said before, all I am seeking is a candid investigation. If it truly was a hate crime as my family suspects, I will fight to great lengths for justice. If an honest investigation reveals otherwise, I will be the first to tell that truth. To those who are showing support, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Please keep sharing and apply pressure to the Hamburg police to release his body to our family. — noor (@/hiimnoor) December 24, 2023

[the-froschamethyst4]

Ex-Husband Simon

Simon Ghost Riley Headcanons

————

————

Ex-Husband Ghost will sign the papers only because he knows you were hurting. He’d be gone for a long time and wouldn’t even know if he was okay or not

Ex-Husband Ghost would feel bad when he’d come to pick the kids up and they don’t understand why their mom and dad aren’t together anymore and why they see him 40 days out of the year

Ex-Husband Ghost who tries his best to keep in contact with you and your kids

Ex-Husband Ghost who cried himself to sleep because he was wondering what he did wrong as a husband

Ex-Husband Ghost who can’t stand the sight of you with another man. When he first went to go pick the kids up and sees you with a man standing on the front porch his hand on your waist. It pissed him off seeing that

Ex-Husband Ghost and when his daughter told him that you were pregnant with that man’s kid, it pissed him off even more, but the reality of remembering that your not his anymore hit him like a brick. He can’t dictate who you have a kid with, you had 2 with him

Ex-Husband Ghost picking up the kids again and he sees you with your big belly with that man’s child

Ex-Husband Ghost his kids expressing how they don’t like their mothers new boyfriend because he could be mean to them for no reason

Ex-Husband Ghost who finally got a chance to talk to you without the court involved or your new boyfriend

“Did you know he was an asshole to the kids?”

“What? No he’s not, Simon, he yelled at them one time because they made a mess, he never yelled at them after that. He knows better.”

“That’s not what the kids told me.”

“Simon-“

“Think about it and I’ll tell you what they told me.”

Ex-Husband Ghost who hates seeing you upset and when the next time he picks up the kids sees you upset and he knows it had something to do with the man

Ex-Husband Ghost who learns you two broke it off and you went to the hospital after having a miscarriage because of stress

Ex-Husband Ghost after he learned that he would pay much more child support then he was suppose to and even brought you groceries

Ex-Husband Ghost who still misses you every time he sees his kids

Ex-Husband Ghost who invited you to come to the park to watch the kids play.

“I’m sorry about the break-up.”

“I learned that he was cheating on me…”

“How long?”

“5 weeks after you had told me he yelled at the kids and when I confronted him about the yelling he told me he was cheating and then started to throw out that the child was probably not his and someone else’s…”

“Y/n-“

“Don’t…I’m here for my kids.”

“I know…”

Ex-Husband Ghost who would still buy you flowers for no reason, the just-because flowers.

“Go give these to mama,” he tells his daughter after she got out of the car.

“Okay,” she takes them and runs towards her giving them to Y/n and smiling down at her daughter moving them inside the house. She turns to Simon and blows him a kiss.

Ex-Husband Ghost who still owns his Kawasaki. He pulls up into your driveway and sees you walking out of the house arms holding you as you move your sweater over your body due to it being cold.

“It’s cold Simon, did you drive here on that?”

“I did…I wanted to see if you wanted to go on a ride?”

“Simon, the kids-“

“They’re okay…I promise just around the neighborhood, nowhere else.”

“Okay,” he pulls out her helmet from his backpack, helping her put it on and helping her on the back.

Ex-Husband Ghost who starts being invited back into your home because it was your children’s idea. They wanted their daddy back in the house to have dinner, and for him to play with them

Ex-Husband Ghost who starts coming over to help you a lot more than before. Before it seemed like Simon was married to his work…not his actual wife.

Ex-Husband Ghost who starts helping you with your sexual needs

[euaphora]

I ALWAYS WANT YOU WHEN IM COMING DOWN!

✎ᝰ clingy!needy!bf!megumi x reader

clingy-boyfriend!megumi who needs a kiss on the lips whenever you go somewhere, “just one more, pleasee!” He cries, pulling on your arm as you unlock the bottom of the door. “You promised you would let me go out if i stayed in bed with you this morning, megs.” He gives you puppy eyes, squeezing your waist from the back. you stare deep into his pouty look, giving in.

clingy-boyfriend!megumi who loves cuddling with you, skin always making contact. You guys could be baking cupcakes and he would still be trying to hold on to you. Since you couldn’t move an inch, you would make him grab you the spoon to help you stir.

clingy-boyfriend!megumi who always gets bored at work so he runs to the bathroom to FaceTime you, he would sit down on the toilet, fully clothed, just to talk to you and ask you what you were doing.

clingy-boyfriend!megumi who tells you to download life 360 so he could know where you were. He didn’t want to make it seem creepy or obsessive when he had asked you but you told him you get where he came from.

clingy-boyfriend!megumi who helps you shop for panties at Victoria Secret, he loved help you pick out the ones he thought looked good on you then fucking you in them inside the dressing room.

clingy-boyfriend!megumi who loves spending his money on you wherever you went. He would tag along and give you his card so you could waste it on whatever you liked.

clingy-boyfriend!megumi who loves when you put a cock ring around him so you could edge him while you hand doesn’t stop flapping the tip over and over again. He would shake now and then, holding onto your hips for support while his mouth his wrapped around your breast.

clingy-boyfriend!megumi who likes to cockwarm inside you when you sleep, when you wake up, or even when you just breathe near him. He loves the fact that he can find a way to physically be inside you and feel you.

clingy-boyfriend!megumi who loves when you ride him. It could be anywhere at anytime and he would be so happy to see you bouncing on his cock, letting him feel you plush, velvet walls.

[melrodrigo]

on your knees - c.s.

Cairo Sweet x Fem!Reader

Summary: It’s Valentine’s day and Cairo really needs a date.

Word Count: idk i’ll fill it later

A/N: Hiii, here to feed my babies. Beware the last few parts because i did nawt proofread this. Will come back to edit it eventually! Thanks for all the love

“Come onnnnn, go on a date with me?” The girl in front of you practically begs, leaning forward till her whole body is pressed up to the front of your desk.

“Very funny.” You tell her, dryly.

Cairo’s been whining all week about not having a valentine’s date, but you don’t know why she specifically chooses to whine to you about it. After all, you had heard from around school she had a crush on Mr.Miller.

Your nose crinkles in disgust at the thought. Their coupling would be wild at best, and illegal (not to mention boring) at worst. It would be like seeing Einstein and an Instagram model holding hands. Except Mr. Miller wasn’t Einstein, he was Henry Miller. A spectacularly boring middle aged white guy.

To be completely transparent, you wouldn’t have minded going on a date with Cairo. Since, truth be told, you might’ve had a (tiny) crush on her.

You let your mind wander, think of what it would be like to take her out. The perfect date.

She loves nature, so it would be outdoors for sure. She doesn’t love extravagant gestures, you’d probably make her a little picnic. Your train of thought is cut short by the evil voice that tells you she could be fantasizing about a certain professor on your imaginary date.

Cairo breaks your daydreaming by falling to her knees beside your chair, hitting the carpet with a loud thud.

Your eyes widen, and you quickly grab her shoulders and try to push her up, but she refuses. For such a small girl, she sure had a lot of strength.

“What do you want me to do, beg? I can beg.” She tells you, still on her knees, dress pooling atop the rug.

You’re ashamed to admit the position has a bit of an effect on you. But who could blame you? Anyone would be flustered if Cairo Sweet was looking up at them like that…

It’s a little awe inspiring, seeing Cairo so, desperate. You’re not sure what’s brought this all on, but the cold cut Cairo you once knew has disappeared completely from the equation.

“Cairo.” You hiss, eyes darting between the door and the girl in front of you, praying that no one comes in.

“What’s it gonna take for you to go on a date with me?” She whines again, reaching for your shirt cuffs for something to hang onto.

There’s a swoosh and a quiet “oh!” that brings your attention back to the door.

Mr. Miller.

He stands somewhat awkwardly, smiling the type of smile that somehow indicates he’s unhappy. His eyes narrow when he notices it’s Cairo on the floor, his beloved teacher’s pet.

Okay, now you really need Cairo to get up. You support (force) her up and onto half of your chair, reprimanding her quietly as Miller walks past, coughing.

She straightens only slightly before settling once again on your lap, claiming it’s more comfortable and “a more suitable place for her to focus on her studies”.

“Why don’t you just sit at your desk, hm?” You point at the table, a single chair, smack dab in the middle of the classroom, in front of Mr.Miller. She was such a nerd.

She stares back at you blankly, big brown eyes making you a little distracted.

“That’s not mine.” She says, and you breathe out a laugh. The tension breaks. Her eyes crinkle lightly at the sound.

“You’re so weird.” You mumble, but allow her to sit further into your lap, no doubt much more comfy than her previous position.

“Can I sit here the rest of the class?” She asks, a little bashfully. You give her a pointed look, but nod nonetheless.

“Whatever you want.” You tell her, and she seems happy with that, taking her laptop and notebook out, ready to learn.

You see her lock eyes with Mr. Miller, who looks very confused. She smiles shyly and breaks the contact by nudging herself into the crook of your neck.

Oh.

Maybe all this was just to make Mr.Miller jealous.

You frown at the disturbing thought. Cairo’s breath tingles your skin as she tilts her head up so her lips are right beside your ear. The sensation makes you shiver, quite unwillingly.

“Now will you go on a date with me?” She whispers, huskily. Her confidence has returned, cocky like the Cairo you know so well.

You weigh your options.

You do really want her to get away from Mr.Miller…it might be a good time to slap some sense into the young girl.

“Alright.” You say curtly, already regretting your decision.

Cairo removes herself from your neck, smiling wide. For a second it quells your anxieties, her milky white pearls blinding.

She turns back as more students start filing in, ready yet again to learn.

You can’t focus for the duration of the class, mind wandering. Valentine’s day was tomorrow, what were you going to say? What were you going to do?

You stay quiet until class ends and all the way while you walk her back to her home. Cairo pokes at you a couple times to try and get you out of your head.

“Don’t forget flowers!” Cairo teasingly yells from ahead of you, already one foot into her house. You straighten up, dumbly answer with a “You got it!” and a face palm once she’s out of sight.

-

Okay. This was it. Last night was spent toiling on your bed, writing a script of what you’ll tell Cairo, prepared lillies- her favorite flowers, and a batch of the best things you could possibly find in your fridge.

Bread, butter, freshly sliced tomatoes, lettuce, and two slices of turkey left, you’re all ready and set.

The script is tucked away into the back pocket of your jeans, snug and cozy. It radiates warmth that makes you think it’d be terribly rude to ever take it out.

You sit down onto the grass, arms on both sides straightened, palms rubbing uncomfortably with the tablecloth.

“I shouldn’t be this nervous.” You remind yourself, but it does almost nothing to quell your worries.

You can’t keep lying to yourself, the truth swims in your head and you’re afraid it’s going to leave your lips the second Cairo arrives. You aren’t nervous about the letter, or anything to do with Mr.Miller. In fact, you’re nervous about the date.

A tiny part of you, no matter how much you try and shun it away, hopes that, maybe, just maybe, if Cairo liked this date, she might start liking you.

The minutes count themselves down too fast, and it’s almost time. You sit straighter, checking your shirt for any wrinkles.

You see a tiny figure make it’s way onto the lawn, and you have to bite back a smile when you realize it’s Cairo.

She looks almost shy as she walks up to you, twiddling with her thumbs.

It’s like a wave washes over you when you finally see her up close. She’s wearing a gray turtleneck, with a denim jacket over it, hair all nice and wavy. She looks unbelievably good.

It takes a second for you to grab your bearings and act like you weren’t just blatantly staring at her.

“You look beautiful.” You say, as casual as you can muster, and Cairo breaks out into a smile. You notice she’s wearing water liner, and it makes your knees feel like jelly. She’s only ever done makeup like this once, during your school dance, and it had all but made you swoon.

“Yeah?” She muses, mindlessly. Bending down and sitting on your makeshift picnic cloth.

“Yeah.” You breathe, even though you can tell she didn’t really need an answer to that. She reaches for your face, pushing a stray hair back.

“You look good too.” Is what she comments, all soft like.

You’re a little ashamed to admit you dressed up particularly for this occasion. Some rosy pink blush, your favorite lipstick just for her.

You cough awkwardly, and it breaks you both out of your trance. You reach for the food and serve her her plate.

You get a good while into talking and laughing that you bring up Mr. Miller.

“So…do you have your eye on anybody right now?” You ask nonchalantly, pretending like you haven’t mapped this whole conversation out in your head a million times.

Something flashes in her eyes but it disappears so quick you can’t tell what it is.

“You know you can tell me anything,right?” You tell her, and you mean it. Whatever or whoever it was, you’d be fine with it. You wouldn’t just stop being friends with her because of complicated feelings. She mattered more to you than that.

She bites her lip, then speaks quick, like she has to get it out before she overthinks too much.

“Yeah I am interested in someone. In this school, actually.” She says.

You feel your heart drop to your ass, you’d hoped against hope that the rumor wasn’t true- but with this new information, it had to be.

So much for ‘being okay with anything.’ That’s it. It’s over for me.

“Oh?” You try and ask, but it comes out as a little squeak. Cairo shoots you a weird look, but continues telling you about it.

“Yeah…I really like her. I just, I don’t know if I should pursue it.” She purses her lips.

Now it’s really time for your heart to flip. Her? Did she say ‘her?’

“Yeah, I did.” She confirms, small smirk playing on her crimson lips.

“Shit, did I say that out loud?” You ask her, cheeks heating up immediately. She gives you a quick nod.

Oh god.

“You like a girl?” You ask again, disbelieving.

This time she huffs, sounding almost impatient.

“Yes, I like a girl.” She says, exasperated, with a bit of bite in her tone. Something defensive and possibly jealous stirs up in you fast and quick. Why does she look annoyed?

You can’t help but answer in the same way.

“Okay, so who is it that you like so much?” You ask pointedly. The fire in her eyes that was there just moments before simmers, and just like that, she reverts back to her normal self. It’s almost concerning how she does it so quick, like the flip of a switch.

She suddenly looks nervous again. You give her a small encouraging nod, take her hand in yours as support. They tremble slightly.

“I like you. And I know you probably-” She continues but all you can hear are the echos of her first statement.

I like you. I like you. I like you.

I like you.

You retract from her hands, surprised beyond belief. You regret it immediately when her smile drops.

Her mouth is moving rapidly, and you use the best of your abilities to try and hear what she’s saying.

“I mean why do you think I even begged you on this date? I swear your head is so thick-“ Her words pass through your ears in intervals, and finally, after she’s done, and looking at you expectedly, all you can do is croak out a weak, “You don’t have a crush on Mr. Miller?”

Cairo blinks once, twice.

“What?” But there’s no fear or judgement or any hint of any emotion except disbelief.

Huh, so she didn’t know about the rumor.

“Who said I have a crush on Mr.Miller?” She asks, nose scrunching in disgust. You sigh, looking up to the sky and thanking god.

At this revelation, you’re elated. You scooch just a tad closer and tell her about the rumor. When you’re done, you expect someone shocked, or weirded out, but all she does is letout a hefty laugh.

“God, just because I like a class doesn’t mean I want to fuck the teacher.” She smiles, and you marvel in the way she’s able to shake it off so easy. She’s always been like that, carefree.

You let your mind wander to what she said before. She turns her head to look at the scenery, allowing you guys to sit in comfortable silence.

You say her name, a simple sound, but it makes her look up into your eyes, curious.

“Did you really mean what you said? You like me?” You ask, soft.

She gives an adamant nod, assuring she really does. God, you could not focus right now. She looks so pretty.

“I like you too. Like, a lot.” You breathe, and watch as her eyes sparkle.

“Really?” She blinks, in a state of vulnerability you’ve never seen. You can’t believe that she wouldn’t believe it. You give her the same nod, grin breaking out on your face.

“Can I kiss you?” She asks, gaze fluttering between your eyes and your lips.

It’s all you’ve ever wanted- you can’t even speak.

Her kiss isn’t what you’ve always imagined. Something soft, something gentle. That’s how it always was with the first kiss. You should’ve guessed long ago Cairo wasn’t just anyone.

She surges in, grabbing your face tight like if she lets go you’ll disintegrate. She’s so rough, and you can’t get enough of it. She climbs over your body and settles in your lap, grabbing the collar of your shirt to deepen the kiss.

You break away when it gets too much, both of you panting. Her cheeks are now another shade of pink you can be proud of causing; her hair messed up in a way that makes you want to grab her and kiss her again. And so you do.

You guys stay like that, laughing and talking and kissing till it’s dark out.

“It’s a good thing I forced you on this date, isn’t it?” She muses, rolling in your arms.

You giggle, high from the endorphins.

“You didn’t force me, it was a two person thing.” You try and justify, hoping she doesn’t think you didn’t want the date.

“It’s sweet of you to say that, but we both know you would’ve never asked me out.” She tells you, booping her nose against yours.

“Oh shut up.” And you take her lips in another kiss before she can retort.

[theosbaby]

brokenhearted

theodore nott x fem!reader

masterlist

summary; theo breaks up with his girlfriend and you comfort him, but things get a little bit heated in the process.

warnings; a bit of angst, heavy make out (this shit is long af), NSFW, some light dirty talk, praising, dry humping, p in v, marking, hair pulling, unprotected sex... that's all, i think. this is kinda a fluffy smut.

author's note; i'm back!! i'm sorry for disappearing for such a long time, i hope this makes up for it ♡ (i don't really like how it turned out, but i hope you do). ps: thank you all so much for still supporting my acc while i was gone! i appreciate it so much.

you had been looking for theodore for some time now; the night had fallen already, and you hadn't heard from him since the day before; he didn't go to class, neither contact you in any way. preoccupied, you headed over the astronomy tower again; you had already looked for him there —like four times during the day— but you decided to try again, after all, it was his favourite place in the entire castle. that time, you actually found him there, sitting with his back against the railings and a cigarette between his lips... classic theo.

when he noticed your presence, he looked up at you and bluntly said, "luna broke up with me." his expression was almost emotionless, but you knew him well enough to know he was hurting deep down.

"what?" you gasped, your brow furrowed, as you walked slowly to take a seat by his side on the floor.

you didn't know what to say or how to act; his admission had taken you by surprise. one part of you —the part of you that was crazy in love him— wanted to scream and cry happy tears at the news, but the other part empathised with him, making you feel his pain.

you hated seeing him suffer.

"yeah, she said it wasn't working out," theo replied.

he took one last drag from his cigarette before blowing out the smoke and tossing it aside as he looked up at the stars, his eyes distant and lost in thought. you kept quiet, not wanting to interrupt him so he could let it all out.

"i guess she's right, though. we never really had anything in common." he chuckled bitterly, shaking his head before talking again, "i don't know why i'm surprised, though. i'm not the most lovable person, am i?"

his eyes met yours, and you could see the pain in them. he was your best friend; you knew damn well the baggage he carried on his shoulders, the trauma his mother's death and his father's neglect had caused on him. theo was not one to get attached to people because of that and every time he lost someone, grief hit him like a truck, even if he didn't let it show. you reached to grab his large hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"hey, that's not true," you told him, your voice softening to try and reassure him, "don't say that."

theo gave you a small smile, his eyes searching yours to try and find comfort in them. he took a deep breath and let it out slowly as his hand squeezed yours back. you could feel the tension emanating from his body, the pain he was trying to hide. then he looked away again, blue eyes dropping to the floor.

"i just... i don't know how to do relationships, you know? i never had any good examples growing up." his voice was quiet as he talked, almost a whisper, like he was telling you his darkest secret and feared someone else could hear him. "my dad... he never loved my mom. he never loved me. and now i feel like i don't know how to be loved, or how to love someone else," he explained, letting out a sigh, his brow furrowed. "i'm sorry. i didn't mean to bring this up..."

"theo..." you muttered, your voice cracking as you cupped his face to force him to look at you, "that's bullshit, alright? listen to me." you stared at him intently as you spoke, gently caressing his cheek, "you're nothing like your father."

theo's eyes remained locked on yours, his gaze searching for any sign of truth in your words. you swore that you saw his eyes fill with tears as he heard you talk, but he quickly blinked them away, not wanting to cry in front of you; crying made him feel vulnerable.

"i needed to hear that," he muttered, leaning into your touch, "thanks."

"want a hug?" you asked, smiling warmly at him.

you both stayed quiet for a few seconds, just staring at each other with an intensity that spoke volumes, and you were so close together that you could see the little freckles that covered his cheeks and nose, painting his skin like constellations painted the starry night sky.

"please," he responded.

you felt him wrapping his strong arms around your slim body and you melted into his embrace, your body heat mingling with his as you felt the tension leaving his muscles. one of your hands rested on his back, rubbing reassuring patterns on in, while the other caressed his soft waves and he sighed contently.

"you always know how to make me feel better," he murmured while pulling away slowly, his eyes filled with gratitude and a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

your eyes dropped to his lips unconsciously, your pulse racing; he noticed your stare and smirked.

"of course," you whispered back, "that's what friends are for."

you wished you could be more than friends, though.

theo watched you as you averted your gaze shyly and he couldn't help but notice how beautiful you looked with the moonlight kissing your pretty face.

"you know," he said quietly, "i've always had this strange feeling about us."

"what feeling?" you asked curiously, chuckling; your cheeks flushed as you looked back at him.

theo took a deep breath before answering, "like we're meant to be together... like i was supposed to meet you and spend my whole life with you." his voice was slightly shaky, as if he was nervous about something.

he looked at you intently, waiting for your reaction.

"well, you ain't getting rid of me anytime soon, so yeah, i guess we're stuck together." you laughed, not understanding what he really meant; you thought he was talking about your friendship.

theo chuckled at your response nervously, shaking his head lightly when he realised you hadn't noticed he was actually trying to confess his feelings; he had always liked you, even though he was dating other girl, he always knew it was you who owned his heart. maybe that was why he couldn't just give luna all the love she deserved.

"i mean... as more than friends," he admitted.

he looked at you intently, searching for a reaction from your part that let him know you felt the same way. his heart was pounding in his chest; that was a big step for him to take.

you couldn't help but smile, anxiously biting your lower lip as you dropped your gaze to the ground.

"your mom used to say that we were going to end up together someday," you whispered with longing.

your smile turned into a sad one as you mentioned her; you knew theo missed her a lot, and to be honest, you missed her too. you turned towards him just to see that he was smiling back at you, but his smile didn't really reach his eyes.

"she always knew what was best for me. i miss her so much." he sighed deeply and tilted his head, resting it against yours. "i only wish she was here."

"she would be so proud of you," you told him, trying to make him feel better.

theo nodded, his voice barely above a whisper as he said, "i really hope so."

he looked at you again and smiled warmly. the air felt intimate and special between the two of you; it was like nothing else mattered but this moment together. and you both knew, you were in love.

"i missed this," you murmured, your eyes dropping to his lips briefly once again.

that time, theo's gaze fell to your lips as well, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest. when theo started dating luna, that intimate conversations with him started getting less frequent, making you drift apart slightly and it had made you realise how much you actually needed him in your life.

"i missed it too," he whispered back, "i missed you."

after a moment of silence, he leaned forward, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It caught you off guard, but you returned the kiss, feeling like your soul was about to leave your body as his soft lips caressed yours in such an intimate touch.

but then reality crashed you; you couldn't do it, not when he had just broken up with his girlfriend and he was feeling down, so you put your hand on his chest, reluctantly pulling him away to stop him from kissing you.

"we shouldn't do this..." you shook your head; your faces were so close together that your warm breath hit his face. "you and luna..."

"please," he interrupted you, his voice almost pleading, "make me forget."

"theo, i–" you stuttered.

you were fighting an inner war with yourself; you had been dreaming about that moment for so long, but it didn't felt right to take advantage of the situation like that. you couldn't bear it if he regretted this decision the day after.

he shook his head, as if he could read your mind just looking into your eyes, and cupped your face gently, pulling you closer to him.

"you're everything that's right in my life, sunshine. you're all i need..." he murmured, his voice low and desperate. "you've always been."

your heart melted when you heard him calling you "sunshine". that was the nickname he had given you when you first started being friends; when you asked him why he called you that, he told you that he had picked it because you were the light to his darkness, the only thing that made him truly happy.

you knew theo would never hurt you, that he would prefer to die rather than making you suffer in any way, so any doubt lingering in your mind slowly faded away.

"i'm sorry i didn't have the courage to tell you sooner," he added, his gaze piercing through yours with an intensity that spoke volumes.

"it's better late than never, right?" you whispered, gulping nervously.

you could feel your heart beating in your throat as you stared at him, waiting for him to make a move.

he smirked. "i guess we'll have to make up for the lost time."

and with that, he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours once more. it was a tender, gentle kiss that started slowly but gradually intensified as his hand slid down towards the small of your back, pressing you closer to his body. time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the warmth and comfort of his embrace. you were on cloud nine; lips avidly kissing his and skin prickling wherever he touched you, igniting sparks in your belly. you parted your lips, allowing him to slip his tongue inside your mouth, and you exhaled a sharp breath, whimpering against his lips.

he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that mirrored your own. his other hand found its way to your neck, holding you firmly as he continued to devour you with every ounce of passion he possessed. after a few seconds, though, you had to pull away reluctantly to be able to breathe, your chest heaving up and down as you reached up to tangle your fingers in his soft hair, gently caressing it.

he smirked and rested his forehead against yours, his breath hot against your skin. "you're a very good kisser," he murmured, his fingers still running up and down back, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

he was looking at you with an intensity that made your head spin, your cheeks blushing at the compliment as you smiled back at him.

"you too," you whispered against his lips, unable to resist the urge of leaning in to kiss him once again.

his mouth tasted like mints and cigarettes; it was new, but at the same time, it felt familiar.

you heard him chuckling softly before he returned the kiss, this time slowing things down, as if he wanted to savour every moment he had with you. his hands wandered over your body, memorizing every curve and dip, his touch setting your body on fire. eventually, his fingers found the hem of your shirt, slowly creeping underneath and causing goosebumps to break out on your skin.

your plump lips parted, a shaky breath slipping past them as you felt him caressing your soft flesh ever so delicately, as if he was afraid of breaking you. he took this as an invitation to slide his tongue inside your mouth once again, avidly searching for yours and starting a playful war between the both of you.

you felt his lips forming a smirk against yours, his tongue having apparently won the little play fight it had with yours as he took full control of the kiss. his hand moved down your back, caressing your skin before he gently cupped your ass, squeezing it lightly, which earned him a soft gasp from you. you didn't oppose when he gently pulled at you to bring you closer to his body, making you straddle his lap as he leaned back against the railings.

he finally broke the kiss, letting out a low groan as you settled on top of him. his eyes were dark, and he looked up at you like he wanted to eat you alive. his hands moved to grip your creamy thighs, fingers digging into your skin possessively. you were panting at that point, cheeks flushed and lips swollen from all the kissing, but his breathing was just as ragged as yours, and his heart was beating so fast that he was sure you could hear it if you paid just enough attention to it.

"you're absolutely breathtaking, you know that?" he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

you blushed in response, the smile that appeared in your face impossible to hold in. your small hands cupped his face tenderly, and your thumbs caressed his sharp cheekbones.

"don't say things like that," you muttered, getting all flustered and shy suddenly.

his lips twitched in a amused smile at your reaction, but before he could even say or do anything, your lips were on his again and the feeling was so intense it robbed him of his breath for a moment there.

"i want you so bad," he whispered against your lips, hips bucking up to grind against you unconsciously.

and that's when you felt it. he was hard. the mere discovery had you moaning softly into the kiss, hips grinding down onto his crotch in a desperate attempt to feel him once more as you placed your hands on his chest. good lord, the friction was making his head swim. he groaned in response as he slid his hands up your thighs to grasp at your hips, the need to fuck you coursing through him like a wildfire.

"you're killing me here, sunshine," he muttered, breaking the kiss for a moment before swooping back in for another.

you giggled playfully against his mouth, hips still rocking onto the straining erection in his pants. you weren't thinking straight anymore, your need for him clouding all your rational thoughts; theo was the only thing in your mind in that moment. the feeling was mutual. theo's mind was consumed with wanting you, his hands moving to your ass to encourage your movements, eliciting a whimper from somewhere deep in your throat that sent his head spiralling.

okay, so keeping a semblance of his cool was completely out of the window now.

pulling your lips apart with a loud snap, he growled something that sounded like, "you're a fucking dream."

you responded with a harsh tug at his brown curls, tilting his head back to expose the pale expanse of his neck. you attached your mouth to it greedily, kissing and sucking on his skin as you ground against him, which caused him to literally whimper as he shuddered beneath you.

for god's sake, he did sound pretty whimpering.

meanwhile, you felt one adventurous hand slipping underneath your top and sliding up your belly. theo's hand was on a mission, his fingers tracing along your silky skin before he cupped one of your breasts, gasping at the feel of its weight on his palm. he kneaded it, his other hand reaching up to grip the hem of your shirt while he pushed you away from his neck. he looked up at you, silently asking for permission to undress you.

"it's okay," you whimpered in response, nodding with a little smile on your puffy, red lips.

you knew you were in the middle of the astronomy tower, a public place, but you just couldn't bring yourself to care about it. theo didn't need more encouragement than that, he was already tugging your top over your head, tossing it aside before his eyes feasted on the sight of your naked breasts; his gaze was hungry, devouring every inch of your exposed skin.

"you're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, leaning forward to take one of your nipples into his mouth while his hand pinched and rubbed the other.

"theo," you whined as his tongue flicked your sensitive nub.

your hips resumed their previous movements as you fisted his hair once again; your heart pounded in your chest when you felt his hard cock pressing against your aching pussy, both of your clothes getting in the way as your need grew stronger.

fuck, you were so wet.

his breath was hitching from the friction between your hips, and he tore his lips away from your boob with a desperate moan, his lids falling close, a sheen of sweat already glistening on his brow.

"god damn, fuck me already, would you?"

you couldn't help but chuckle at his desperate plea, leaning forward to kiss his lips once more; it was like you couldn't get enough from him.

you broke the contact after a few seconds, your teeth sinking into his bottom lip to tug at it playfully, then, you asked him, "here?"

his eyes flickered around the tower, barely sparing it a glance before his hungry gaze settled back on you. theo's mind was clouded, his cock aching and his fingers already tugging idly at his zipper.

"the hell if i care..." he mumbled, voice raspy from all the kissing.

you helped him get rid of his clothes, lowering his pants and boxers just enough to free his dick, which sprang against his stomach, long and thick; your mouth watered and now you were eager to have him inside you.

how could a cock be that perfect? not fair.

"fuck, come here."

before you could even process what was happening, you felt his hands gripping the hem of your shorts to tug them down your thighs alongside your panties. you slipped just one leg out of them before he pulled you towards him desperately.

you were completely naked, while he was almost fully dressed, and it was unfair, so you forced him to lift his arms up so you could yank his t-shirt off, exposing his ripped abs. thank you, quidditch.

he pulled you flush against him, skin to skin for the first time today and you both moaned; his hands gripped your hips tightly, fingertips tracing over your bare flesh as he guided you on top of his cock.

"gonna fuck you now, sunshine, you want that?" he asked for your consent, lips peppering kisses all over your collarbone and chest.

"yeah," you mumbled in response, nodding eagerly.

you reached down to wrap your small hand around the base of his shaft, placing the tip against your soaked entrance and lowering yourself onto it. since you both were a little too impatient to do any foreplay, his thick cock sliding inside your tight pussy knocked the air out of your lungs.

theo watched your face, lips parted and panting as you slowly took him inside yourself: he gave a low moan when his cock bottomed out inside you, hands gripping you tightly.

"fuck– baby, so fucking good," he complimented you, whimpering needily.

you stood still for a few moments to get used to his size before you started bouncing up and down on his dick, the delicious drag of his thick cock head against your inner walls making you shiver from pleasure. you gripped his shoulders to try and steady yourself, nails digging into his flesh and leaving bright red marks.

theo grunted, tossing his head back as he felt your walls clutching him. his eyes closed in ecstasy, hands travelling down to grip your ass cheeks and helping you bounce up and down on him a little bit faster.

"shit, baby... so fucking tight," he growled out.

"your cock feels so good," you cried out while dragging your nails down his chest and abs, scratching his skin.

theo hissed as he felt your nails clawing at him. his hands squeezed your ass tighter before he smacked it, groaning. "bad girl... don't scratch."

the slap made you yelp slightly, cheeks flushing red at his words. "wanna mark you up," you confessed, breathlessly, "so everyone knows you're mine."

you stopped bouncing as you felt your legs getting tired, rocking your hips back and forward instead; the new motion made your clit rub against his pelvis, sending pleasure waves down your spine.

theo chuckled, his eyes smouldering. "i am yours, sunshine. always have been."

his hands kept roaming your body, taking in the softness of your skin as he lifted you up just enough to be able to thrust up into you, hard and fast. you grasped at the railings behind him for support, crying out in complete and utter ecstasy as he railed you, hips snapping against yours and creating a wet slapping sound that mingled with your loud moans. your pussy clenched around him, and you felt your belly muscles tightening, signaling your upcoming orgasm. theo's thrusting became more erratic, his breath hitching as he pounded into you, chasing his own release. he grabbed your hair and yanked it back, exposing your neck to him. he leaned in and bit down on the sensitive skin where your shoulder met your neck.

"gonna cum for me like a good girl?" he purred, panting.

"yes, please," you answered between little moans and cries, your voice whiny and agitated.

your eyes rolled back when his hand slid between your legs and his thumb grazed your clit; you trembled in response. it didn't take long for you to reach your peak and when you did, it was with a loud cry.

"that's it, that's my good girl," he cooed at you, fucking you through your climax.

your cunt spasmed around his cock as you came, your juices soaking his shaft. your arms wrapped around his body while you squirmed uncontrollably on top of him, moaning repeatedly in his ear. theo wasn't far behind you, the feeling of your walls clenching around him sending him over the edge. he buried himself deep inside you, whimpering helplessly as he came in your cunt.

you moaned when you felt his hot cum filling you up, pussy still tingling so nicely that you weren't even thinking. "fuck– i love you... i love you so fucking much." it just slipped in the heat of the moment without you realising.

but of course he noticed.

theo's breath caught, his orgasm still rocking through him. he looked at you with a surprised expression, but it quickly melted into a tender smile, a warm sensation flooding his chest.

"i love you too, sunshine."

[dcxdpdabbles]

Any new ideas for congratulations! It's triplets? Love the idea of Jason just freaking out and trying to figure out how to build a relationship with his kids while being made fun of by his family and said kids. Especially if he goes overprotective mode because Danny has clown trauma too and gets snagged by the joker

Jason watches as Danny- his son.- impatiently taps his fingers against the table. His boy's gaze was looking at everything, taking in the big fancy Wayne Mannor with a sort of disinterest he was not expecting of a child so young.

His sister and Brother- both with alarmingly similar names- were also disinterested, but Dani was swinging her legs, and Dan was tapping his spoon and fork against the table in a fast-paced drumming.

It's strange to know he would fidget a lot as a kid but he always resorted to finger tapping. Was the tripples little habit from him? He wonders what else they inherited and what he missed out on seeing.

"I don't understand," Jasmine said, overlooking the contract Bruce's lawyers wrote up. " Why would you want custody now? It's been five years."

"I didn't know." Jason swallows past the lump in his throat as she gives him an unimpressed stare over the paper. He feels Bruce place a hand on his shoulder, and the silent support allows him to continue. "If I have, I wouldn't have ever let them grow up without me."

"Jason doesn't want full custody," Tim cuts in with a soft voice that has tricked lesser men into selling their shares. He and the rest of his family are all sitting across from Jassmin Fenton, as she is carefully lured back to the manor to discuss their next step. "He just wants to be part of his kid's lives and would happily share that with you."

"Not telling him about the kids sort of played into that," Steph mutters tactlessly. Unfortunately, her voice carries, and the woman across from them bristles.

There is a tense moment where he thinks Jassmin is about to curse them all out before she sighs and slumps in her seat. "Well, it wasn't like I had a means to contact you when I found out. You gave me a fake name."

Jason winces. "I sort of forgot I told you my name was Petter."

"Wasn't a total lie" Dani chirps "It is your middle name."

Jasmine rubs her eyes. "Look, Jason, I don't want to stop you from seeing the kids, but this is all too much right now. I'm dealing with a lot right now-"

"You are currently homeless," Damian cuts in, causing Jasmine to stop in genuine bewilderment.

"No, we're not." Dan scoffs. "You were waiting for us at our house. Waiting to ambush us."

"The house that was on the street that Poison Ivy just destroyed," The boy says, showing everyone his phone screen. There, clear as day is, their home is nothing but rumble. Jasmine's face spams, and she quickly checks her phone, paling at what she reads.

"Oh, Ancients. It's gone. It's all gone," She whispers, gripping the phone. The three kids immediately stiffen, watching their mother with strange intensity. Too aware of what this means.

They were mature for their age, and that is never a good thing.

Oh gods. Did his children live on the streets? Had Jason's carelessness hurt his children like his parents have hurt him?

"Mom?" Danny asks and that seems to snap Jasmine out of her spirl.

"Hotel!" She gasps, hands shaking as she quickly starts tapping on her phone. Jason catches a glimpse of her screen and realizes she is making a to-do list. "I have to book a hotel room. Call the insurance company, go and try to salvage whatever we can....what else?"

"You can stay here, Fenton," Damian surprisingly offers. "Until your home is rebuilt"

"We couldn't possibly-"

"Hotels are expensive, and you must focus on other more important needs. Father certainly has the space."

Jason jerks into action. "This will also give me a chance to connect with the kids!"

Jasmine bites her lip, turning to her children. Jason could appreciate that she was willing to include them in big decisions. The three nodded, so she eventually sighs.

"Alright. But only until I can get our housing settled. And I'll pay rent"

Jason would argue but he recognized the look in her eye. She would not be sway from making payments. So he agrees, tapping his fingers on the table in a specific rhythm to make sure his family agrees too.

He knows it pains Bruce- the old man already thinks of the triplets as his grandchildren and the idea of charging them to live with him will kill him.

Jason notices the way Dan's eyes zero in on his tapping and the glance around the family members. He fights a proud grin when realization bleeds into his boy's eyes. He's got a smart one, likely aware of that the tapping is a form of Morse code.

Tim did say- after pulling up all files of the four- that his children had developed insane intelligence. Maybe he should get them tested for certification geniuses.

"Hey Mr. Jason," Dani suddenly speaks up.

"Yes Darling?"

"I suggest you remove your eyes from my mom before I remove them from your face." The little girl even punches her palm in a poor intimidation attempt. His heart melts.

Then his face turns a dark red hue at Jasmine's raised brow. Unwillingly flashes of thier last time being face-to face rise in his mind. He coughs awkwardly as his sons face become as protective as their sister, Dan cracking his knuckles and Danny reaching for a knife.

"Oh yeah" Tim deadpans watching the kids reaction "No need for DNA test. Those are definitely Jason's kids"

He agrees, he just hopes he can show his children he plans on sticking around and being the father they deserve.

No one notices Cass and Steph slip away to deal with Posion Ivy. Jason kinda wants to send her a thank you gift for making it possible to have his family move into the manor.

[deadghosy]

🪓 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑|| 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐗 𝐆𝐍! 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

Diagnosis: fearing to harm your lover, you drink blood from another. Making the riddle himself feel jealous and angry at how you could think he can’t take it.

Warning: possessive behavior, possessive!mattheo, death/blood/killing mentions, slight maybe, suggestive.

Being a vampire in Hogwarts was and is a dangerous game to play. Especially when you had fallen inlove with a mortal human from a rich Slytherin family. The Riddles. Mattheo Riddle was a Slytherin boy who had taken a liken to your “cold” & “loner” personality. He liked how you kept to yourself when really you were trying not to hurt people.

Mattheo did a slow, and friendly approach. Which slowly but surely turned into flirting banter between you two. Gaining your heart, and gaining your trust after almost a year of dating each other. You finally told him that you’re a vampire. You thought the worst, the worst being that he would tell everyone and break up with you. Only for you to gain the opposite of your imagination. He was supportive and didn’t tell a soul.

But he mostly definitely asked a lot of questions.

But last night, you killed a student. Hungry. You were so hungry you lost control and killed a former Hogwarts student that happened to run into your clutches for it to be a death trap. You were lost in a daze, sinking your fangs into their neck and draining them dry til their life and blood source was destroyed. And gone. You could’ve drunk from Mattheo, he had told you to drink his blood if it was serious. But the thought of harming him made you wanna throw up. You felt terrible, so terrible you didn’t talk at all today. Gaining attention from some students and mostly Mattheo. He walked into your dorm seeing pacing back and forth until you seen him. He stared seeing your slight baggy eyes.

“What’s wrong? You look like you had a crazy night or somthin'” he said jokingly. You stayed quiet before nervously laughing. “Yeah…” Mattheo stopped laughing hearing that laughter. He heard that laughter enough to know something actually did happen. “What happened?” You immediately tried to walk past him. You felt scared, you didn’t want him to know you lost control and killed a student.

He pulls you by your arm, gripping it slightly as his eyes darken at your nervous gaze. He hated how he can tell that you’re lying. “The fuck happened last night?” You kept avoiding eye contact making him pull your face close to his with his other hand. “What. Happened.” Breaking the last thread that held you in, you started to ramble from the events. Closing your eyes shut you spilled it, “I drunk another person’s blood and accidentally killed them because I didn’t think you could handle me sucking your own blood, and I’m so sorry!”

Mattheo let out a deep breath and let your arm and face go. Feeling a bit guilty at how he grabbed your arm and stated to massage the arm he held. Worried it might bruise. “Darling…it’s okay. I’m a Riddle for a reason. I can handle you sucking my blood. Plus killing someone isn’t a shock to me much.” You smiled at his words. “But.” Your smile dropped looking at his darkened eyes. It was like an empty void as he tilts his head at you. “But I’m yours, and you’re mine. I can’t let you drink some filthy blood that’s not mine.” You gulped as he moved his hand towards your lips.

He uses his thumb to pull your lower lip down, showing your bottom sharp fangs. There was emotion hidden behind mattheo eyes. You felt fear for a little before he leaned into your ear. “Drink my blood baby. Drink it til it make us dizzy together.” And there goes that crazed smile you fell in love with as he withdraws from your ear and looks at you. Completely towering over you. Your heart felt it was going to leap.

“Cmon. Don’t be scared love. I promise I can take it.” He smiles again, but this time his eyes are different. They soften as he undo his tie while keeping eye contact with you. With one hand it came undone. You felt your mouth water at the sight of his naked neck. Mattheo smirked seeing your eyes dilate. He knew that you were now hungry. You inch closer, and closer. Leaning your head, but your consciousness kept telling you that you were gonna hurt him.

“I..I can’t—” “but you can.” Mattheo quickly interrupts you. “I know you can. I know you’re strong enough to know you can’t hurt me. I can handle it.” Bringing his hand and caressing your cheek. You nodded, you trusted Mattheo to tell you if you are hurting him. You bit into his neck.

With a hiss, Mattheo puts his hand on your waist. Bring you closer as you sink your teeth in deeper. Breaking the flesh and sucking in his blood. You could hear Mattheo chuckle lowly, but what you didn’t see was the light blush and euphoric look he had on his face. His low eyes as he grips the side of your waist. You hummed at the delicious iron taste. Filling your mouth while Mattheo let out a small moan. “That’s right baby…drink as much as you can. Drink it all..” he whispers as he lowers his eyes at you. You hummed and finished the last drop you could drink.

Your eyes were glossy when you pulled back from his neck. Licking the bites that threaten to spill more from Mattheo. “Sorry if I hurt you…” you say lowly, embarrassed at how you also feel on cloud nine from drinking his blood. “You didn’t hurt me.” He kissed the temple of your head then wipes your red stained lips. “Didn’t even feel a pinch.” He smiled while you just roll your eyes. “Whatever…”

At least you knew how he feels if you don’t drink his blood.

[byunpum]

Mama's Boy | Part 5

Pair: Jake x neytiri x human reader (trio couple) x sully children's

Warning: cozy moments, conflict, family problems

Note: I hope you like this part, the next one is gonna be the final part...Thank you sooo much!! btw I recently opened a KO-Fi…. if you want to leave any tips or support I would appreciate it (it would help me to buy real coffee xD).

AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6(final)

The previous day's argument was very intense. Leaving the family in a very delicate state. Even you decided to sleep alone in a kind of bed you made. You were so upset with jake, you couldn't understand why he was like that with lo'ak. Sometimes you thought Jake was ashamed of lo'ak…ashamed that you were his mother. You had been sitting quietly in the marui all day, still feeling a little bad. You were taking care of tuk, the girl was by your side. Making a necklace for you, while she was telling you everything she did in the morning. "Love be careful…you can hurt yourself" you help tuk with the needle she was using. At that, you can see how jake enters the marui, he had a basket full of fish. Looking quickly at you, walking towards where he used to leave the food that had to be prepared. You decide to ignore him, and be playful with tuk.

"baby…can we talk?" asks jake, the man had approached you, sitting down next to you. You on the other hand were acting like he wasn't there. You look up, and sigh loudly. "Tuk honey, why don't you let mommy and daddy talk alone" you help the girl pick up her materials, and wait for her to come out of the marui doing some jumping jacks. You smile a little to see how happy tuk was, oblivious to what was going on. "Tell me?" you speak, looking at jake waiting for him to start talking. "Is it true that you are thinking of leaving? "jake looks at you, you could tell he was worried. It was too dangerous for you to go back to the jungle. The RDA was looking for Jake, and when Jake's name was on the line his whole family was involved. The months you had to be alone, you never left the lab.

"I see neytiri told you everything" you say, trying not to make eye contact with him. "Love…we can fix this" Jake touches your hand, but you push him away. "Jake it's not with me that you have to fix things, it's with your son. Your behavior towards him…it's terrible." You speak, trying to hold back your tears. "Y/n you're misunderstanding things I" jake speaks, but is interrupted when you turn around and are now looking directly at him. "Jake… I have a question for you, what does neteyam like the most?" you ask. "A-ahh he likes hunting, he likes to ride his ikran. He's also a great talker," says jake.

"Okay, now tell me what lo'ak likes?" you speak up, knowing jake wouldn't answer quickly like the other question. Jake gets nervous, looking around for a moment. "He likes…he likes being with his brother. " jake speaks timidly, watching as your eyebrows draw together in anger. "Lo'ak likes to ride around and investigate things. He loves to practice with his bow, he likes to spend time with his sister kiri and all he looks forward to is his father telling him he did a great job" you were already very annoyed.

"I know…" jake speaks softly. Shaking his head, look embarrassed. "Jake your sons are not soldiers…they are children. Children who need love and attention from their father. Neteyam is not the only one here who needs to be trained. Lo'ak too, he needs you to treat him with respect and love. What does it cost you to do that?" you speak, watching as jake pulled his knees up to his chest. Becoming more like a little ball. "I just…want them to be strong and …. I'm afraid they'll be weak and won't be able to survive this chaos we live in" jake tries to explain. And yes, he was a little bit right. But that didn't justify the preference he had over neteyam. "Jake, I know all that" you wave your hands all around you. "This is all chaos, I know this isn't our home. I know what we're going through, but what does lo'ak have to do with it? Why can't you treat him like you treat kiri or neteyam or tuk? What did he do to you?" you speak, getting up from the floor. You had to walk, because the rage was consuming you. You hated it when jake tried to avoid trouble. Telling you smith answers to distract you. "He didn't do anything" jake follows you with his eyes.

"I feel like sometimes you just treat him like that, because he came from me. Because he's not completely na'vi." You had tears in your eyes, you didn't know why you were so sentimental. Even though this situation always broke your heart, you wanted lo'ak to feel loved. "Y/n never say that… this has nothing to do with you being his mother" jake in one swift movement. He takes your arm, to pull you closer to him. "I wouldn't ask for another mother for my son, you are an excellent mother" jake lets his head lay on your chest. He is silent for a moment, you didn't want to keep arguing with him. You loved your family, you loved jake, you hated being upset with him. "Lo'ak is how I was…he is so much like the stupid jake who betrayed and endangered people he cared about. That stupid jake got innocent people killed" jake speaks, you knew he was talking about grace. She had been so important to you.

You take jake's face in your hands, pulling his face up so he could look you in the eye. "But that stupid jake was the one who saved a whole clan, that stupid jake is strong and brave. That stupid jake was the one I fell in love with" you speak softly. Tears streamed down Jake's cheeks. "I want you to be the person that stupid Jake needed, for lo'ak. He needs you…" you speak, feeling jake hug you. You both stand there for a moment. "I don't want him to make mistakes that he'll regret later," jake says. "He'll get in trouble if you don't help…try to be a better parent to him. That's all I ask of you" you start walking away from jake. Picking up some things tuk had left on the ground, you go to look for the girl.

"Do you think you would have been happy if instead of me, tom was the one in this body?" jake asks you. You knew this was tormenting Jake. You had been tom's girlfriend just before he went to earth. And there he was murdered. When jake came to the RDA and took tom's place. For you it was a big shock, Jake was just like your ex-boyfriend, but so different at the same time. You had to admit that Jake was the only thing that kept you sane those months. Not to mention the relationship that formed between the two of you. Jake allowed you to see neytiri again and get closer to the clan. Jake could be a fool, but the fool you liked the most. The rest is history.

You turn around before leaving the marui, tears in your eyes. "Believe it or not, I am very happy…but I wish your insecurities didn't affect this family" you speak, walking out of the marui leaving jake alone with his thoughts. You liked that Jake opened up to you, but you would like to see him try to improve his relationship with his children. Because it wasn't just lo'ak, neteyam was also affected by jake's treatment. You pause for a moment, taking a deep breath and wiping away your tears. You calm down a bit, and start looking for tuk. Luckily for you, the girl wasn't far away. She was sitting with neteyam playing.

You approach the children, see how they look at you and their eyes light up. "Hello" you greet them, sitting down next to tuk. "Look my love, you forgot these things" you hand the things to tuk. The little girl thanks you, she didn't dare to come back for them. "Thank you mommy" tuk says, now sitting on your lap. You can feel neteyam's eyes glued to you, he knew things were not good between his parents. The news that you were likely to leave had destroyed him. Neteyam could be strong, and always be by Jake and Neytiri's side. But you were his refuge, where he could go and be a child again. If he was to be judged for a second. "Mom?" neteyam speaks to you, you look at him quickly. "Mmm?" you are helping tuk, when you feel neteyam sit down next to you. "Is it true that you are going to go and leave us?" neteyam speaks waiting for you to answer. "Mom? You are going to leave us?" yells tuk. You sigh, you had gone through a pretty strong disappointment a few minutes ago and you wanted to control yourself.

"Where did you hear that neteyam?" you look at the boy, you thought you had argued in private, but you guess your screams were too loud. "We heard it by accident, I promise" neteyam gets nervous, but you hold his hand to calm him down. "mom if you go…can I come with you?" neteyam was getting sentimental, you caress his face a little. Laughing a little and tapping your arms to give him support. "I'm not going anywhere…but if I did. Of course you can go with me." You speak, watching as neteyam pouts. You joke a little, in order to change the topic. You didn't like them getting involved in adult issues, you knew they had been through a lot. At such a young age.

It wasn't long before you started to feel a little dizzy. You tried to hold your child tighter in your lap, but you felt like you were about to throw up. Never having felt like this before. You push tuk a little so that the girl slips out of your lap, placing your hands on your stomach, you were in a lot of pain. Neteyam noticed this, and quickly began to help you. "What's wrong mom?" neteyam holds your shoulders. The vomiting was something you couldn't help, and you swore you were emptying yourself alive. neteyam held you so you wouldn't mess yourself up. "Mom!" the boy whines, he has never seen you like this before. It was so strong that as soon as you recover, your sight goes blank.

You start to get up, you could hear some voices around you. You didn't open your eyes yet, but you could distinguish them. One was from neytiri, and the other was from ronal. You could feel some warm things on your body, and some parts were wet. You start to become conscious, opening your eyes a little at a time. "Ma Y/n!!!" neytiri sounded so happy, she had a nice smile on her face. On the other hand, ronal was moving away from your body. You could tell she looked exhausted. "What happened?" you try to get up, but you barely had any strength. "You fainted again and neteyam warned us" neytiri explains, stroking your hair. Something seemed curious about neytiri, she was supposed to be worried and she looked so happy. "You are sick…you need to rest and take medicine" said Ronal, the woman was already looking in some containers for the herbs to prepare the medicine you had to take. The more you woke up you realized that you were in the marui that Ronal used to take care of the sick na'vi. "And the children?" you look weakly at neytiri. "They are with Jake, don't worry," Neytiri speaks, settling in closer to your side.

You rest a little, but you feel how Ronal starts to remove the towels that were warm before. Drying your exposed skin a bit. He had been using compresses and hot towels to try to get you up. "The medicine is a little strong, but it won't hurt the baby," says Ronal, holding out a jar of carracol. Your eyes widen in surprise, what the hell was this woman talking about, pregnant? This woman is crazy. "Baby? No, I'm not pregnant" you speak, now you had recovered all your strength. You were surprised. You look at neytiri, but she had a look that was worrying you. "ney" you push her a little, you needed her to speak. "Y/N I thought you are…since the symptoms" neytiri can't contain her joy. "Plus we did an abdominal test and we could feel something" ronal looks at you, handing you the drink. You are confused, and now you were about to vomit at the news. How could that be possible, you were sure you weren't pregnant.

Hey, you and Jake had been together. Well…ever since you had joined the clan. You two hadn't kept your hands off each other. Well… the three of you. You were sure neytiri knew you weren't pregnant. The idea of having a baby doesn't enter your head, not now that the atmosphere is so tense. You take the drink, you notice how Ronal is watching you. Making sure you take all the medicine. "Ahh it's disgusting" you complain. Listening to neytiri laugh, you liked seeing her like that. It's been a long time since you've seen her this happy, it was genuine happiness. "Well…I'll let you rest here. I'll come by later and check on you" ronal gets up from the floor, and walks out of the marui. Leaving you and neytiri alone. You were exhausted, but you can feel neytiri touch your stomach. Causing you to look at her with surprise. "We will have another baby ma y/n" neytiri smiles. "But when?" you had many questions, when you found out you were pregnant with lo'ak it was because norm did a test on you. But now it had been a natural test that na'vi women did to find out if they were pregnant. "I think it was the day at the beach" neytir laughs a little, blushing. You start to remember and you want to curl into a ball. You were scared, really scared.

"Hey, don't be scared. I'll be right here with you. And we've been looking for this for so many years," says Neytiri. And she was right, it got to the stage where the pregnancies were more about the two of you. They were very intimate between you and Neytiri. You wanted to be in on the whole process, including the excitement of being pregnant. It would build on the bonds that would be formed with the children. "I know…but this news is very unexpected…and even more so now that I want to kill Jake," you say. ""You haven't talked?"" asks neytiri, she wanted this to be resolved. "Ney…I need him to be a better father to lo'ak and you know I'm right" you speak. Neytiri is thoughtful for a moment, she knew you were right, and she would support you in whatever decision you make. And even more so at this moment. "Well, I'm going to let you rest. Ronal said he would come later. I'll come later." neytiri wanted to break the news to everyone in the family. A baby was big news for her, and she knew everyone would be happy. Giving you a soft kiss, and another on the palms of her hands. You swear you saw Neytiri jump a little in happiness, her tail wagging from side to side and the smile on her face was beautiful. You lay back on the comfortable bed and closed your eyes. You had to rest, otherwise you were going to die of madness.

"Ok, but you have to cut it like this" jake was with lo'ak. The man had decided to go looking for his son after the argument he had with you. Inviting him to go fishing, obviously this was a strange thing for lo'ak to do. But spending the afternoon with his father was making him very happy. Lo'ak was cleaning the fish as jake told him to, looking carefully at the instructions. "And what do I do with this?" lo'ak points with disgust, at the fish's stomach. "Remove it…that's disgusting" jake mimics lo'ak's wince as they both laughed. It was a very nice moment for both of them, jake had to admit that he had missed a lot of moments with lo'ak. While lo'ak and jake were busy, kiri, neteyam and tuk were sitting somewhere in the corner of the marui talking and playing with each other. When they noticed how their mother came in with a happiness. "I have good news," said neytiri.

"How is mom!!!" lo'ak gets up quickly, running to neytiri. "she's fine…but" neytiri pauses, walking over to jake to sit next to him. "What's wrong, she's supposed to just be sick at her stomach" jake says. The last he heard from you, neteyam had taken you to see ronal. And that you had a lot of stomach pain. "It's not a bad thing…come here everybody, come on!" neytiri makes the signal for everyone in the family to come over. Everyone sits around, neytiri looked so excited. "This is so big for this family… Y/N is expecting a baby" neytiri sounds the news, jake gets so excited he hugs neytiri right away. "No way!!!" shouts kiri hugging tuk and the little girl was already very excited. "Another sully to the family" says neteyam, excited. But apparently the news had not gone down well with everyone, "WHAT?" Lo'ak literally screams, capturing her parents' attention. "Lo'ak what's wrong?" neytiri is now confused, this is supposed to be a big surprise.

"Why is mom going to have a baby? She can't have one!!!" Lo'ak was getting a little upset. This was a jealous reaction, and neytiri and jake could tell. "hey lo'ak I need you to calm down" jake tries to calm him down. But the boy stands up in annoyance, getting out of the marui. "Lo'ak needs to stop having tantrums, he's too old to be having these dramas" kiri says. Neytiri taps her knee, kiri complains. Everyone in the family knows how lo'ak was with you, everything that had to do with you affected lo'ak twice as much. Jake was about to get up and go talk to the boy. But he feels neteyam's hand stop him. "Dad…I'll talk to him" says neteyam. Jake looks quickly at neytiri, who signals him to let his brother go get him. Neteyam gets up from the ground and leaves the marui to look for his brother. It doesn't take him long to find him, he was relatively close. Lo'ak was sitting in the sand, he could tell he was crying.

"Little brother…you're jealous" says neteyam. Listening as lo'ak whined. "What do you want you idiot!!!" lo'ak grudgingly replies to neteyam. But neteyam ignores him, laughing and sitting down next to him. "I know you must be feeling jealous," says neteyam. Lo'ak rolls his eyes in white. He didn't want to be messing around with neteyam, sometimes he could be very annoying. "You know…when you were born I felt a little jealous, but when tuk was born I must admit I couldn't help but feel very jealous. Our moms were with her all the time and didn't pay attention to us. " said neteyam. "Yes, but my mom has always paid attention to me" lo'ak says sounding a bit smug. Neteyam laughs, he had to admit that his little brother looked adorable. "And she's always going to love you, I'm the big brother. And having to share everything…but the love mama has for you is special and no one will ever change it," Neteyam speaks. Lo'ak is silent, neteyam stands up and taps his brother on the shoulder. Stepping away to let him think for a moment.

That same afternoon…

You were already up, and it was getting dark. You had to admit that you were pretty bored. Ronal was taking longer than usual. You wanted to be home, you felt a little better. And now that you knew you were sick and the pregnancy symptoms were making it worse, you felt somewhat reassured. Although the news of your pregnancy was not something you were very happy about. Sure, you were happy to have a baby. You had waited for this opportunity for so long, but it had to happen right now. Just now when the situation with lo'ak was very active.

You were so wrapped up in your own thoughts, that you didn't notice when Ronal entered the marui. The woman can see that you were a bit lost. "The news of the baby surprises you, doesn't it? Because it does to me," says Ronal, putting some things she brought to refill. You look at her a little startled, and became a little alert at the tone of Ronal's voice. You weren't friends, and ronal tolerated you and treated you well because tonowari told her to. "Yes…it's a surprise," you say. Trying not to sound awkward. "It seems kind of unreal to me…that one" Ronal scans you up and down. "Human is pregnant, I have doubts even with your supposed child" ronal speaks, she could be quite direct. She didn't mind hurting other people's feelings. "Excuse me?" you get more comfortable in your bed. "Don't take this the wrong way…but it's weird" ronal chuckles a little. You decide to ignore her, you didn't want to argue because you still felt a little bad.

Ronal prepared more medicine for you to take in the next few days. Supposedly some food had made you sick. After several days you are supposed to be left with only the symptoms of pregnancy. She might be a little mean, but she wouldn't hurt you. You get up carefully, leaving Marui. Ronal all this time had been making uncalled for comments about you and your child. But at no time did you want to answer him, you didn't want to cause trouble. "Hey by the way" Ronal starts talking. You stop, and look back.

"I heard you wanted to go back to the jungle…and you know what" Ronal laughs again to herself. You didn't understand what you had done to this woman, but she seemed to hate you. "I think it would be best for your family. Even for that child…lo'ak. When you weren't here, we barely heard the sully. And as far as I can see all you've done is mess everything up around here," Ronal says, turning to continue working. You sigh, you weren't going to give her the pleasure of her seeing you cry, getting out of that marui as fast as you could. Back to the familiar marui, you couldn't help but get Ronal's words out of your head, maybe she was right. Maybe they were better off without you. And now you had one more problem.

P.s The reason I wrote that the reader was pregnant is that the original request asked for two children. Lo'ak and the baby on the way. Second, the reader is still upset with jake, but I wanted to fix things up a bit. Because I want it to focus more on the relationship between lo'ak and his mom.

Tag: @baybaybear1@hoodiepandaninja16@teyyyteyyy@anika-rose-walker@victoria2054@raviolisblog@jessi-dan@neteyams-wh0re@jimfiqs@bitchykittenconnoisseur@chershire23@holynightnacho@danilezilla@thepotatoislost @esposadomd @ratchetprime211 @juneonhoth

[joonieskinks]

fall out 4 ex!bf hancock that gets jealous seeing you out with nick valentine

• you happened to be in Goodneighbour one evening, trying to get some much needed r&r

• you traded your junk for ammo with KLEO, then settled down in The Third Rail for a pint with Nick

• ordering a drink, you two were listening to the live music and reminiscing over the mission, it was nice to have time with Nick again. after all, he was there for you when you first arrived in this new Commonwealth

• but you didn’t even know Hancock was in the establishment tonight, watching you two from afar

• sure it crossed your mind that he might be around, but a) you figured he had mayoral duties and b) you’ve really tried to move on after he broke the news that he couldn’t be with you anymore

• it broke your heart and you took it very personally. everything was going fine- you were made General of the Minutemen, were fixing up Red Rocket to make it your new home, you had gotten Goodneighbour back on its feet… you had kissed for the first time in this very establishment, fallen into bed with each other, you told him you loved him…

• but he ended it all. he walked away. said he couldn’t do this anymore one morning, and that was it. you haven’t seen him since. you relied on him so much with your missions, you two were the perfect team and did everything together, it was devastating to be without the man you loved

• you had no choice but to let him walk. so you teamed up with Nick again eventually, the synth detective that’s always had your back

• you had liked Nick, even tried to make a move on him way back in the day, nothing ever came of it. especially not after when you discovered Goodneighbour. he was your greatest friend and confidant though

• “you know he’s watching you, doll?” Nick interrupts your laughter and your face starts to fall, trying desperately not to look Hancocks way

• “yeah, well- maybe he’s realizing what he lost” you try to shrug it off

• but Nick doesn’t think that’s good enough. he’s known Hancock for some years now, and even though the ghoul is certainly charismatic to say the least, he knows when he needs a nudge to act

• “well, tell me this. do you still harbour feelings for him?” Nick asks, placing his hand dangerously high on your thigh

• the action disarms you, glancing up into Nicks eyes, but all you can think about is Hancock from your peripheral, you can see his head snap up at the sight

• “yes” you whisper, bringing a wobbling bottle to your lips

• “good”, and Nick springs into action. taking your hand and leading you to the dance floor. he brings his one hand to your hip, the other hand locked with yours, pulling you in close. he briefly makes eye contact with the ghoul and smirks, only to be greeted with a scowl

• Nick knows exactly what he’s doing and pushes it even further, moving his mouth to the shell of your ear, whispering Hancocks movements to you

• “here he comes, darlin’. just hope it was worth it and he doesn’t hurt this old mug”

• you laugh at the thought, but it’s quickly replaced with shock as Hancock comes right up to the two of you on the floor

• “Nick”, he states matter of factly

• “Hancock, nice to see you.” Nick releases his grip on you, tilting his hat and smirks as he returns to the bar

• Hancock quickly takes his place, his rough hand in yours, the other on your waist, pulling you in until your chest-to-chest. he didn’t waste a second to bring you right back to where you belong

• “nice to see you, Sole.” he whispers into the side of your temple. his lips ghosting your skin, holding them there. it felt so good to touch you again, just as soft and beautiful as he remembers

• “you too…” it’s hard to concentrate with his scent overwhelming you, his presence, touch and attention. it feels like heaven but it’s all so much

• you stumble a bit in your steps, but he’s right there to support you and pick you up

• “don’t go fallin’ all over me just yet, sunshine”

• “i wouldn’t be, if you had just stayed…”

• he looks down at you, utterly gutted by your words, but still, he holds you close to him, continuing to dance with you slowly

• “the truth is that I’m not good enough for you, Sole.” he confesses, closing his eyes, refusing to meet yours

• “i’m nothing but a nine-toed junkie with electoral duties. you deserve better than a ghoul like me.”

• his self deprecation can be endearing at times, but at this point, it just hurts to hear

• “i still love you. I haven’t stopped. You mean so much to me, Hancock. it killed me to wake up alone that morning.” you frown at the memory

• he stops in his tracks at the words. everyday tasks have utterly ached without by his side. you were the spark he never knew he needed in his life, and if you were opening up to him like this tonight, he was sure he could take the opportunity to get you back

• “i love you too, sunshine. forgive me?” he smiles a small smile.

• “please?”

• after that night, it was back to the grand killing spree, brought to you by the Mayor and the General

• Nick was just content to see you two happy again. not just because he considers both you dear friends, but for the sake of the Commonwealth

• but not that content when you two started forgetting to lock the doors again due to the burning desire to touch one another

• the slow, but hard banging up against the wall,

• the obnoxious quickies in the washroom,

• and the hickeys being sucked into your soft skin by rough lips

• still, Nick thinks, for the sake of the Commonwealth…

/

The new Fallout show got me back on my bs:))

[coralinnii]

Can I please request Cater, Ace, Deuce and Epel helping you after a rough break up (with someone else, not them)?

‧₊˚✧ Let me love you until you love yourself ‧₊˚✧

↳ Helping you after a rough breakup 

feat: Cater ❋ Ace ❋ Deuce ❋ Epel genre: hurt/comfort note: no pronouns were used with the reader, reader is implied to be Yuu!reader, depictions of toxic relationships, implications of violence,

Similar prompt: finding out you got brutally rejected

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

You see, Cater already had a suspicion that your boyfriend wasn’t the greatest pick. Years of listening to his older sisters talk about red flags to look out has honed his sixth sense about these kind of stuff.

But what was he supposed to tell you? He’s not going to just barge into your relationship and tell you that he feels some off vibes about your man. All he could do was be there for you when you needed an ear to hear you out. 

But he started to notice that you were less like yourself as the relationship went on. Your Magicam account wasn’t as active and soon even your close friends weren’t sure when was the last time you hung out with them. Cater could only catch you in class or with your glaring boyfriend clinging to you. 

Your relationship finally hit an ugly crescendo when your boyfriend publicly humiliated you and ended things in the open hallway. The reason Cater learned was because you wanted to go out with your friends again, even if he didn’t want to. 

Night Raven College has a knack for choosing students with rather vindictive personalities and no matter how subtle it is, Cater is no different. The sociable redhead may not always be the type to step up to lead or start something, but he is more than willing to teach a tactless underclassman a lesson on respect.

It doesn’t matter which dorm your ex is from since the extrovert Cater has friends and contacts of all the Housewardens, vice Housewardens and other notable students with authority. Call it his privilege for his chatty nature and years on this large campus.

With a charming set of words and implications from the smooth-talking Cater, most of them picked up the hint that a certain jerk needed some well-deserved punishment. For disgracing the dorm’s dignity, they all claimed. 

With the personified ick dealt with, all of Cater’s attention is on you. The versatile upperclassman can be anything you need in your time of healing. Cafe dates, unhinged frustration venting, screaming karaoke sessions with a chill support group (an exclusive privilege courtesy of the Pop Music Club), or a judgeless crying session as he held you together both metaphorically and literally. 

The screaming karaoke and dessert binging was fun and all, but the feeling of Cater’s warm hands as he gently rubbed your back as you hiccuped through your tears was a healing moment that left you raw but appreciative. 

Perhaps there was a little bit of guilt, or even something deeper within his heart for you, but as he wrapped his arms around you closer whilst you fell asleep in comfort, Cater thought to himself to protect you from something like this for as long as he can stay with you, for as long as he could do to stay with you.

“Hey now, no tears. Cay-Cay to the rescue!” 

Oh he hated your ex from day 1. No, it wasn’t because of his personal feelings for you, it was just literally everything about that jerk. At every chance, Ace would snidely comment and jeer the as*hole. The only reason he would stop was if you personally asked him to get along with him. 

“Tch. Fine, I guess” 

So Ace is a liar, but at least he’s a good actor. He’s willing to smile and laugh but he never lets the suspicious feeling fade. 

That suspicion quickly became rage when Grim told him that jerk of yours broke up with you over text. 

Turns out your (ex) boyfriend was dating you in hopes to catch the attention of a crush from his hometown, sending pictures in hopes to stir up some jealousy. Questions became screaming matches in your room and soon you were left a broken mess alone in your bedroom.

When Ace knocked on your door sometime later, you saw him in a familiar heart-shaped collar which wasn’t a surprising image. Without saying much, all Ace offered as a vague explanation was that he got into a fight with some jerk student.

As Ace was getting comfortable on your sofa, Cater later texted you, giving full details of what happened. Turns out the “jerk student” was your ex who was running his mouth oh how you were crazy and unbearable out in the courtyard, where Ace was passing by.

“Riddle is pretty pissed right now. Ace just went crazy on him and wouldn’t let up until we pulled him away. But still, be kind to him, k? He had good intentions.” 

Sitting together on the sofa, the two of you made quite an interesting image. Your eyes were red with wet tracks all over your face from crying while Ace had swollen patches of blue and black on his normally boyishly charming face. 

You broke the tension. “You didn’t need to do that, you know.” 

Ace brushed your words off. “What are you talking about? I did it for me. That dude always rubbed me the wrong way.” 

Ace is a liar, but strangely you didn’t mind it when he did it.

“Just so we’re clear, I didn’t do it for you. Alright? Good, so don’t go thinking too deep into it…”

A model student would support all of his peers, Deuce convinced himself. It was why he kept himself from just straight-up wrecking this punk that you found yourself dating. But Deuce trusts you. Maybe Deuce’s misjudging him since he can’t imagine you falling for someone beneath you, and he assumed that despite how he feels about your partner, this dude wouldn’t be stupid enough to not treat you good. 

But unbeknownst to Deuce, arguments were common in your relationship with your insecure partner. From complaining that you don’t spend time with him (um, because you were busy saving your friends from overblot?) to outright blaming you for emasculating him in his own relationship because of your popularity in school for your accomplishments. 

The breakup itself was honestly anti-climatic, and everyone could see it from a while away so it came to the surprise of no one. 

It was the aftermath of all of the arguments with your ex that truly hurt you. What was once a source of pride to you became reasons of your anxiety as you wondered if your ex held truth in his accusations. 

“You think you’re perfect ‘cause you’re doing a little better than me? Get over your high horse, you pretentious b-“

“Are you ok?” Deuce’s voice snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts, bringing you back to the library where you were helping Deuce with a subject he was failing. 

You tried smiling but Deuce noticed the tenseness of your features and try asking once more, which led you to ultimately voicing your worries. 

“Maybe I was being too boastful, I shouldn’t just talk about me- Wait, Deuce?!” 

You managed to catch Deuce by the hem of his sleeve before flinching at the sight of the glaring rage in Deuce’s fiery eyes. 

“Where is that no-good coward! That punk’s getting what's coming to him!” 

It took some time (and getting kicked out from the library) for Deuce to finally settle his rage. Still, he was muttering some choice words to describe your ex which made you chuckle just a little. You wanted the breakup to be civil and simply pass as an unpleasant memory but you admit that seeing someone get mad for your sake was…nice. Almost heart-warming, really.

Suddenly, Deuce turned to face you. Back straight and his strong fist firmly pressed to his chest, Deuce looked to you with pure honesty as he promised to protect you from your worthless ex with everything he’s got. 

It took you quite some time to admit that when Deuce made that promise, you felt your heart skip a beat. 

“If anyone gives you grief for that, just ignore 'em. Let me handle them, I’m pretty strong.”

Romance honestly flies over Epel’s head. Afterall, the relationships he’s seen are his town’s couples who've been married for decades with kids all grown up, and the ones he’s seen in films and books. All he knew was, if you like someone and you’re dating them, you should be counting yer lucky stars and make sure you treat them right.

So, imagine the genuine look of surprise on his face when his dormmates whispered rumors that you were caught in an ugly argument with your boyfriend, with accusations that your man was actually cheating with someone supposedly prettier than you. 

Now, imagine his unbridled rage when Epel found that it was true. Your ex-boyfriend apparently held high expectations of himself and the partners he deemed to be worthy by his side. While he settled for you, he was looking around for another companion that “best suits his standards” as he said. 

It took a strict scolding and promise of harsh reprimanding from Vil to calm the young freshman down as his hometown habits rushed back to him. How he wanted to give that no-good son of a backyard mutt a mighty beating for what he did to you.

Instead, Vil suggested that Epel rather hit him where it would really hurt for unsavory fellows like him, through his pride. 

“If he thought he was better off with someone that “best suits his standards” as he put it, try proving to him he ended up with what he deserved. ” 

After deciphering what Vil meant, Epel used his noggin to hurt your ex where it really hurts. No longer was he the runt of a small village, but a man with various connections and skills to get a leg over his enemies. 

With his persistence, he convinced his Spelldrive captain, Leona to sit with you during lunch, and have the Vil Schoenheit spoil you with high-end gifts in public. With the attention of the most famous students showing you favor, everyone in NRC whispered and commented on who really won in the breakup. 

“He cheated while dating someone like that? What a mistake.” 

Behind his soft expression, Epel mentally smirked at the plummeting image of the man who prioritized fame over love. "You darn right a mistake it was, he thought.

In the entire time Epel treated you like the most important person on campus…in public at least.

In the privacy of your dormroom, you worked hard in holding in your laughter as Epel swore up a storm like a drunken sailor about the worthless ex of yours. Like Vil, it’ll be up to you to make sure he won’t go off picking a fight with your ex. 

Still, there was something undeniably true to Epel’s character to defend your honor, however he does it. 

“I ain’t too good at these sneaky schemes, but you gotta admit I got ‘im real good. Don’t cha think?”

[adabird]

MHA boys- headcannon response to hearing that you’re pregnant

all characters aged up!

fab-reader, message me if you want any-other character and or headcannon response!

“Surprise!”

Immediately glares at you thinking it’s a prank, you had conveniently ‘surprised’ him once he got home from late hero work with a box placed on your shared bed. After he opened it, he thought you were joking, before saying something like ‘you’re crazy’ or ‘is this a joke’, but soon realized you were before for-reals when your expression changed. He IMMEDIATELY wrapped you in a hug saying that he’s so happy, before ending the conversation with a ‘are you being serious y/n’..

(-he’s deadass so excited!!!)

Katsuki Bakugou, Hitoshi Shinsou, Neito Monoma, Shota Aizawa,

“NO!”

After you had sat him down on the couch you had told him you were expecting.. His faced twisted into joy, before saying ‘No!’ over and over with you responding with a ‘Yes!” (all in a joyful manner not bad!!) He would then proceed to pull out his phone, opening the ‘notes app’ before showing you all the names he had saved up.. ‘and Lane oh oh and Lorelai no no oh wait what about Karmi no wait I know I know what about Vani!!!!’ legit him bro..

level 1000 excited!

Mirio Togata, Denki Kaminari, Kirishima Eijiro, Sero Hanta, Present Mic

“How are you feeling baby”

After telling him the news he immediately thought about your health asking questions like ‘how do you feel about having it’ ‘do you think i’m suit enough to be a good dad’ ‘how are you’ things that show he’s worried about being a bad dad, and caring more about how YOU feel about the pregnancy.. he wants to see if you want to have the baby and wants to make sure you feel ready..

the legit best supporter!!

Shoto Todoroki, Keigo Takami, Tamaki Amajiki, Touya Todoroki, Tokoyami Fumikage

“I’m telling everyone, but only everyone we trust”

So So So excited.. Like the second you uttered the words, nervous and quiet, all scared that he would be mad.. But he was the complete opposite! He was more excited than anything, really. He immediately wanted to contact people that he trusted, if it was up to him he’d contact the entire world about the arrival of his spawn, but thinking logically, he was a hero and needed to be careful.. Loves on you the entire pregnancy, and makes cute little cards, sending them to people you both trusted, to inform them of the new arrival of the baby!

AHHHHH!

Izuku Midoriya, Inasa Yoarashi, Tenya Iida, Mezo Shoji

I actually love this so much!!

let me know if you have any specific characters or themes in mind! I don’t judge!

#Onie out!

[lovelybarnes]

Flirting and Football- B. Barnes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. “Wow.”

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

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

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

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

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

You shrug. “I had to do something.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? What did I do?”

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

“What quarterback?” Bruce asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am,” Bruce confirms.

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

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

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

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

“Hey Wanda, Piet.”

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

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

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

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

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

“We?” you echo.

“We as in you and I,” Bruce verifies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frown as the siblings grin.

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

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

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

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

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

You mutter incoherently.

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve snickers. “Any of ‘em.”

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pietro hoots. “Fifteen, baby!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” Bucky confirms.

“Based off of what?” You counter.

“Anything.”

“Oh.” You think. “Then no.”

Pietro clears his throat loudly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know Bucky. He’s not that bad.”

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

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

“I don’t mind that one.” Bucky winks.

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

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

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

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

“Nice and safe, don’t worry, doll.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Not the same thing. Not even close.”

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

“I’m always worried,” Bruce grumbles.

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

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

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

“We talk.” You shrug. 

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

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

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

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

“It will,” Bucky says.

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You snort. “Yeah, sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When he comes back, you’re gone.

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wouldn’t say that—”

You laugh quietly. “Sure.”

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

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

“Sorry?”

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

“Bucky,” he corrects swiftly.

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

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

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

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

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

“And you’re beautiful.”

“And you’re ridiculous.”

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

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

“I’ll make it worth it. Promise.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh disbelievingly. “Okay, Borky.”

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

-

You learn his name. Completely. Totally. Unmistakably. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What, like a vampire?”

He blinks. “Yeah, like a vampire.”

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

“It's cold out here,” he reminds.

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll walk you.”

“You don’t have to,” you begin.

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

You nod along. “Right.” 

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

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

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

“Yup. One more week, he says.”

“Do you believe him?”

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

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

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

“Wanna go tomorrow?” Bucky asks.

You nod. “Can we?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Weeks could definitely be months,” Bucky reasons. 

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

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

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

“‘Thought it was weeks?”

“Bucky,” you say, a little urgent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

Bucky thinks you’re acting weird.

No—he’s sure you’re acting weird.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re pretty,” he says honestly.

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

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

“I'll buy you something,” Bucky responds immediately, already pulling out his wallet.

“You don’t have to,” you remind. “I wasn’t asking, I was just—”

“I know, it’s fine,” Bucky insists.

“I can pay. It’s my food.”

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

You heat up beneath his touch, shaking him off with a scowl. “You make me sound awful. Fine. Buy me my food then.”

Bucky raises his hands in surrender, wallet between his index and middle finger rising with his shoulders. “I will.” He squeezes your shoulder before he walks away, dipping down to your ear to whisper, “And you’re not awful.”

You huff, pinching your lips together as you watch him get in line, nudging his fingers into his wallet to take out money.

Arbitrarily, you’re annoyed. Bucky Barnes is infuriating, with his long charcoal lashes and lilting chuckle and nonchalance in giving things you want without your asking.

Your laptop screen darkens with your lack of attention, and you’re left staring at yourself, scrutinizing the thin lines around your eyes as you squint. You’re being ridiculous; you can’t be angry over Bucky being a sweet guy.

“They musta’ known you were coming,” Bucky whistles, balancing a bowl and a small bag already darkened with grease spots in his arms. You take the bowl from him, warmth seeping into your fingertips.

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

“Yeah?”

Distressed, you snatch the bag from him, shoving your fingers inside to pull out two large chocolate chip cookies. “And chocolate chip cookies.” Your voice rises and falls with a slightly unhinged twinge, features pulling as you examine what Bucky got for you. Your comfort food; the token you’d never explained to him.

“Yeah. It’s what you always get. And I know you always want two cookies but only get one because you’re afraid you won’t finish it, but we can split it or you can save it, or—what are you doing?”

You sweep everything into your arms, holding the food tightly behind your books.

“I have to go.”

“What? We just got here.”

“I have an appointment.”

“For what?”

“For—things—it’s—” you huff. “I have to go.”

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride? I have my car back, you know,” Bucky offers, already beginning to get up, but you shake your head, his actions hitting something in your chest.

“I'll be fine, thanks for the…” you exhale sharply. “I'll see you later.”

You run off, ignoring his confused call of your name as you slam the door behind you.

Hot soup dribbles down your fingers as you speed walk back home, but you barely notice, struggling to remember why you’d rejected him before.

“I hate him,” you mumble, fully dishonest as you struggle with your keys. “I hate him so much.”

“Hate who?” Bruce asks from the table, sparing you a glance from his computer. His eyebrows join as he takes you in, every panting and crazed inch of you, mouth parting and head tilting. “Uh.”

“Bucky,” you reply, setting the a la carte box down hastily. You drop the cookies next to it.

Bruce stares at you.

You make a big gesture with your hands toward it, pursing your lips. “He bought me that. Just—insisted. He's so—” you sigh frustratedly. “I didn't even—he bought me cookies.”

“Okay.” It's long and hesitant. “And that’s bad because…” he begins to shake his head. “You don’t like cookies?”

Your shoulders drop.

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

“No! I love soup and cavatappi and—he’s ruining everything! He's such an idiot!” you rub your face, nuzzling your nose into the crevice between your joined hands.

Bruce examines you for another second before: “Oh.”

“What?” you snap, meeting amused brown. “What?”

“Nothing,” Bruce muses, but his lips are set in a careful smile, amusement poorly hidden. “Just that you finally learned his name.”

His thoughts are pathetically obvious in his tone, lips in a thin line and eyes crinkled.

“Don’t,” you warn. “Bruce Banner—”

“I didn't say anything.”

“Do not think what you’re thinking,” you demand. “He’s a player and a distraction and—”

“Okay.” Bruce has never been one to argue, but his one word answer makes you more frustrated than anything else he could’ve said.

You puff and gather your food, striding to your room with a glare at your best friend. 

-

For the first time since you met Bucky, you follow through on an excuse to miss the game. It’s not a majorly important one—although Bucky pouts when you tell him either way, insisting that he needs you there for good luck—but you still feel a strange ache at the bottom of your stomach when the game begins and you’re too far away to cheer for him.

The edges of your lips are downturned, brows pinched as you stare at your phone before you realize what you’re doing and snap your attention away.

Scoffing, you shake away thoughts about soccer and the memory of Bucky's sweet blue eyes when he’d teased you, a strange tone of real sadness beneath his playful jests.

You pause, lifting your hands from your computer to eye the time once again. Furtively scanning the work you’re nearly done with, you allow yourself the distraction and grab your phone, fingers dancing in anticipation when your lock screen is littered with icons of messaging apps.

You click Bucky’s name first, smiling softly as you read a quickly typed summary of the game he probably sent after the first half was over. He sounds hopeful and excited, like he always does when he talks abouts soccer, but he signs off with a mispelled reminder that he misses you and a red heart. You check Wanda and Bruce's messages next, your face falling when you learn the second half hadn’t gone as well.

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

The game is over by the time you arrive, easily finding a parking spot in the midst of everyone’s departure. You hear disappointed grumbling as you make your way inside the stadium and cringe, striding toward the locker room.

Your name in Bruce’s voice makes you pause, turning to meet his pulled, bushy eyebrows and pinched lips. “What’re you doing here?”

“I finished early,” you explain. “And you said the game wasn’t going great so I thought I'd come and make sure the team’s okay.”

Bruce's features morph into something like realization and then into his poor poker face, lips pursed so tightly they’re edged white. “Right. The team.”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, since it’s the whole team, I should let you know most of them are in the locker room moping, but Bucky wanted to leave early.” Bruce looks pointedly to the right.

“What? Why?”

Bruce shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe he said something about seeing you, but since you’re here for the team—”

“Shut up, Bruce.” You squint meanly at him, making him swallow a laugh as you spin around and continue on your path. 

You bump into Bucky when you turn a corner, familiar hands coming to rest on your arms distractedly before his eyes brighten in recognition. He says your name in surprise, shaking you gently as if to check that you’re real. His hair is damp from the quick shower he’d just taken, dark spots from water droplets around the collar of his gray shirt. He smells like soap and Bucky and it makes you a little dizzy.

“Hey, I heard about the game,” you say. “I wanted to check up on you.”

“Oh. I was just coming to see you. I told you that you were our lucky charm.” Bucky laughs but it’s not completely honest, his disappointment about the loss shining through.

You frown, unsure of what to do. Suddenly, you shove your hands into your coat pockets, pulling out a crinkled baggie in each one. “I brought you something.”

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

Nervous now, you let your arms drop. “Yeah. I, uh—figured they’d maybe give you a boost and—” You cut yourself off, laughing awkwardly. “It was dumb.”

“My mom used to bring me orange slices after soccer practice,” Bucky mumbles.

You perk up. “Yeah. You told me about that and I thought maybe you’d like them.” The end of your sentence lilts like a question, answered by the quick movements of Bucky's fingers when he takes a baggie from you and pulls it open, taking a slice out to grin happily at it.

He dips his fingers in again and hands another to you, bumping his own small slice against yours. “Cheers.”

As soon as he bites into it, the juice from the fruit runs down his fingers, eyelids falling closed in a delighted hum. You barely realize the sap has streaked sticky orange down your arm, too.

He breathes out your name as he opens his eyes, a dazzling blue in the fluorescent lights of the locker room hall. “I forgot how…” He shakes his head, drifting off, and takes the other bag from you, pulling you to him. He sighs big and warm, rumbling through his chest.

You rub your nose against his sweatshirt, breathing in deeply. There's the fresh scent of citrus and then the lavender body wash you’d bought for him faint beneath his own distinct smell. He thanks you blithely, a lot lighter.

You shrug it off and force yourself to pull away, shivering at the loss even if you initiated it. “Do you want to get something to eat and watch that new episode of The Great British Bake-Off we missed last week?”

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

-

You feel sick when you step outside; a sticky, prickly rush that coats your throat in sap. It’s cold enough to make goosebumps rise on your skin, dark enough for the stars to drown in ink. Any appetite you had disappears, replaced with something clammier and painful, a twisting anxiety as a result of a bad day and a completely avoidable situation.

The bags with your food bump warmly against your knee, plastic handles pulling against the skin of your wrist. If you stay as you are, there will be indents of them once you finally put the bag down. 

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

It’s very silent when you begin to walk, the crinkling of your bag loud and in tandem with your steps. You let it slide down and hook on your fingers, carefully aware of shadows that might peek out behind yours and off-space footsteps.

Lonely fingers curl in on themselves, missing the comforting frigidity of the keys you’d forgotten at home. Your dying phone vibrates in the tight grip of your hand, spurring your steps faster. A dark lump appears on your shadow’s shoulder, and you freeze, spinning around violently to face the street, empty behind you.

You turn back around hesitantly, breath trembling. You could’ve sworn you felt someone else behind you.

Eyes rounded and wet, you begin to walk again, feeling an uncomfortable heat in the space where your ribs meet. Your required cognizance turns frantic, making your fingers shake and oxygen difficult to get into your lungs. There’s an echo to your footsteps. When you blink, there’s the ghost of an unforgiving hand on the back of your neck, the sharp slam of your jaw against brick. You gasp when you open your eyes again, a hand flying to the aching skin of your neck as you spin.

Your eyes promise that there’s no threat lurking behind darkness, but your mind blares with an assurance that there is. Ducking behind a wall, you scramble for your phone, cheeks cold with air-slapped tears as you press the call button for the first contact your fingers find.

Bucky’s voice is confused and comforting when he answers.

“I think—I think someone is following me,” you whimper, pulling your legs to your chest. Your food warms the side of your thigh. 

“What? Where are you?”

“I don’t know,” you cry. “I’m sorry, I should, it’s just—I was walking home from the restaurant and I heard something and I can’t concentrate, I can’t breathe—”

“Okay, it’s okay. Try to breathe, okay? Can you tell me what restaurant it was?”

You can picture the glowing sign, the faded wallpaper, the flowered curtains, but you can’t think, barrelling you deeper into panic. “I can’t remember—I—”

You can hear Bucky open his door. “Hey, it’s okay. Were you eating there or picking up to go?”

“To-go,” you answer tearfully, concentrating on the box pressing into your flesh.

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

“B-both of us.”

“You’re doing great, sweetheart. Try to take deep breaths, I think I—”

There’s a hollow click before it’s silent, the calm you’d been grasping at completely gone. “Bucky?” you plead. “Bucky?”

You pull your phone away from your ear, vision going blurry when you tap desperately at the screen and it doesn’t respond. Dead.

There’s a tremendous weight on your chest, your elbow knocking against the wall behind you with your attempts to draw in a breath. You shove your head in between your knees and try to remember Bucky’s voice, forget the cold fear that another clammy hand will reach for your hair and tug you up.

You need to get home. You can’t move.

You stifle your sobs with your leg, clawing at your shins and trying to think of anything else. You shove your hand in between your stomach and your legs, letting your phone fall to your thighs as the tips of your fingers reach the round hills of your collarbone. Your palm digs into your flesh until the beating of your heart pulses against your thumb, aching when you force it to stay put.

Thump, thump. “O-one,” you force, restraining your fingers from curling. Thump, thump. “Two.” A deep, shuddering breath that makes your mouth snap closed and your eyes flutter into darkness. Thump, thump. “Three…”

It’s how Bucky finds you, your nose deep between your knees, counting watery and muffled. He’s frantic when he sees you, panic like needles against his chest prickling to a pounding ache. He should be more cautious, stand still a few feet away for a few seconds, step slowly. If he were a little less in love, maybe he would; but he’s not, and the relief that you’re solid and no longer a tenuous voice on his phone is too much a relief.

He calls out your name and rushes forward, lowering himself down to his knees before he touches your arm. You flinch, shoving a strong hand against him, a horrible mix of anger and fear contorting your voice.

“It’s me. It’s Bucky.”

You still push yourself back against the wall, but your eyes finally meet his. “Bucky,” you test. “Bucky.”

It’s a silent, cold beat before you blink clearly, irises looking back a little less hazy. You murmur his name once more and promptly burst into tears, launching yourself into his chest. His arms wrap around you in tandem, pleasing the closeness your fisted fingers crave. He takes in your tears, steadily smoothing a hand over your back, desperation in the way he hooks his chin over the crown of your head.

“Are you okay?” he asks too soon.

You make a noise of which answer he can’t be sure of, so he gathers you up in his arms to push you away, only a little, only for a second to stare at you.

You grip at his shirt, cheeks shiny. And then, “I thought I was really gonna die this time.” Hearing your admittance causes a shift on your face, still crumpled and unready to deal with this. “Just for a second and—” Your lips twist to keep words back. 

Bucky pulls you back in.

“Will you take me home?”

His compliance is wordless and patient, hooking a finger through your takeout and grasping your hand with his free one, guiding you to his car. He helps you inside, setting the bag at your feet before he buckles your seatbelt and pushes strands of hair away from your sticky face.

Your breathing steadies while he drives, concentrating on the cool puffs of air hitting your collarbone, the lingering warmth from the food you’re suddenly starving for. But the wash of panic has left a shameful residue and a subsequent otiose apology on your tongue, making the once comforting silence expectant.

Your chest weighs when you finally spot your door, fighting to pull words from your mouth at the dimmed lights, but Bucky beats you to it, clearing his throat without unlocking the door. His left hand lays clothed on his lap, face stormed with uncertainty, but there’s a resolute edge that makes him look at you.

“I’m sorry,” you start, misunderstanding.

“Why?”

You aren’t sure, only certain of how guilty you feel. “For… bothering you. For making you comfort me. I’m sorry that you had to see me like that."

“Don’t apologize.” He clenches his jaw. “I don’t want you to…”

He shoves his sleeve up, taking a deep breath as he pinches the fingertips of the glove. “I know that wasn’t something you were ready to share with me. I understand, I…”

His gaze is heavy, flickering between your face and the fingers peeling away his glove. He swallows hard when it’s pulled off completely, looking away from the sight of his skin.

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

“I was in a fire once,” he says. “‘Got some scars too.”

“Is that why you wear—” You trail off at his nod. “Why are you… why are you telling me?” you ask, wincing at how the question sounds, but Bucky seems to understand what you mean.

He shrugs. “I don’t know,” he lies.

You blink at him, slipping a sure hand into his and squeezing. “Thank you.”

His eyes stay startled on your interlocked fingers, stubborn even beneath his gaze. He laughs hollowly then, squeezing back before he finally meets your eyes. “You, too.”

-

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

The energy from the others who cheer in the stands makes you buzz, a rush of confidence urging you to jump to your feet when Bucky passes the ball to Pietro and then has it once again, close enough to the other team’s goal to make you clench a hand in anticipation.

With the flesh of your thumb between your teeth, you can’t help but lose your breath when it looks like Bucky's going to try to make it, only for it to be knocked out from your lungs when he crashes to the ground from the impact of another player.

Your mouth parts in a surprised o, tongue playing his name before you can stop it.

It's eerily silent in the stadium for a second as Bucky lies on the field, before it disappears into a fold of angry screams.

You’re not worried.

Bucky has never gotten hurt on the field before—”I’m too good,” he had promised you with an uneven grin, annoying in the way that he’s right—and the only times it’s seemed otherwise have been lies, a mere play he put on for the free kick. He had shaken his head disappointedly at you when you’d gotten worried, condemning you for not trusting him. He’s playful when he’s flustered.

So you’re not worried, because you know Bucky is fine.

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

You’re not worried.

Your fingers say otherwise, thumb tapping against your alternating fingers so frantically they get jumbled together, clumsily bumping into the crevices between them.

“Is he hurt?” Wanda asks.

“No,” you say automatically, stretching your fingers out like a starfish as if to rid evidence of your anxiety. “No, he’s fine.”

It's another moment that seems too long and the lines of Wanda’s worried face deepen, breaths a little faster. “He's not… he’s not getting up.”

“He’s fine,” you insist. “He has to milk it.” Glancing up at the timer, you nod definitively. “Yes, he has to milk it to get the penalty kick.”

“What?” Wanda asks, meeting your eyes in confusion.

“The hit didn’t seem that bad,” you lie unsteadily. “He has to milk it. He’s fine.”

Your panic escapes in the highs of your voice, something translucent hiding it when you clear your throat. He's still not getting up and it makes your breath comes out quickly. “He has to be,” you admit.

Wanda’s brows furrow, eyes searching your face once Bucky finally limps weakly to his feet, giving the ref a short nod. A sigh large enough to make you bend slips past your lips, caught in a relieved laugh as you gesture to him.

“I told you,” you tell her.

“He’s limping,” she points out.

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

He gets his penalty kick, makes it, of course, and it’s another few, a lot slower minutes before the game is over, but you’re making your way down thirty seconds before, too much attention on the game rather than your footing on the stairs.

You stumble over your feet, barely caring when the whistle blows to indicate the game is over, and turn in the direction of the hall to the locker room. Your anxiety nearly seems silly now, not as oppressive now that the soaked towel you’d been waterboarded with was dry. Yet, it still prickles at your fingertips, faint but enough to ache.

It's only a couple minutes before you can hear the pattering of feet, the stress that the outliers are Bucky, limping like he did on that field, nudging at your mind. The players wave at you, surprised, and your heart grows heavier and heavier with each passing team shirt that does not have “BARNES” on the back.

Then he’s there, completely fine and near the end of the line. He's grinning at the apparent win, letting Steve shove him proudly. His eyes widen in surprise when they catch sight of your own, saying something to his teammates without looking at them as he steps toward you.

“Hey, what’re you—”

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

“Hey,” he coos, hugging you back.

You allow him a moment before you pull back abruptly and smack his arm.

“Ow!” he complains, grabbing your hand.

“You asshole! What’s up with the drama?”

“What, did I scare you?” Bucky teases, smirk dropping when your deadpan doesn’t glitter with playfulness. “Doll?”

“You took your sweet time getting back up,” you continue, ignoring his words. “You’ve never taken that long.” You’re alone in the hall now, eyes frenetic over his figure.

He softens then, chin pulling closer to his neck so his eyes can give you a reassuring smile. “Hey,” he says softly, tapping your wrist with his index, “‘m fine.”

“I know,” you contend, but it comes out a little relieved at hearing it in his voice. “I told Wanda that.”

His cheeks apple at your statement, amusement twinkling back in his eyes. “Of course. My girl knows I can't get hurt.”

You scoff at the term of endearment, nervous energy dissolving. “I'm not your girl.”

“Not yet!” he proclaims.

You wrinkle your nose, stepping away from him. “You stink. Go shower.” You pat his shoulder as a goodbye, beginning to head back out.

“Sure know how to charm a guy,” he mumbles, watching you walk away with a dopey smile.

-

You’re in your room, laying on your stomach with your computer in front of you and a drink Bucky had bought for you sitting on your bedside table.

He's sitting against your bed, scanning over a document. You should be doing something like it, but you can’t help but be distracted. He's quiet for once, features set in something not playful and not serious, a small knot between his brows indicating his concentration.

He looks pretty. You can’t be blamed.

If he notices your gaze, he’s kind enough to not point it out, although it’s unlikely. It’s undoubtedly heavy.

He’s staring down at his hand when he speaks up for what seems like the first time since hes arrived. His fingers dance nervously before he shoves them away from his view, edges of thick tissue peeking out as a bracelet on his wrist. “Do I make you uncomfortable when I flirt?”

You blink owlishly at him, unsure how to answer. He sounds so serious, guilty. “No.”

“If it makes you uncomfortable, I'll stop.”

“I know you would. But it doesn’t. Is something wrong?”

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

“You don’t! I just… don’t really flirt. I don’t really think there’s a point if I’m not dating.”

“You don’t date?” He’s known this. To a point, which he thinks is not completely accurate now that he hears the way you say it.

“No.”

“Not even guys you like?”

“Especially guys I like, ” you clarify, cringing with the difficulty of putting so many feelings into so insignificant words. “Things get messy. It’s just… distractions and it’s never worth it.”

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

You shoot him a look, huffing a little disappointedly, as if you’d expected him to understand something and he didn’t. “Why do people always twist my words into something so cynical?

I didn’t say that. Not love. I never said love, I just—it never ends well. It’s always something you pour so much into and get so little back.”

Bukcy shifts. “That’s not true. A relationship is fair, or at least, it’s supposed to be.”

“Ah, but see, ‘supposed to be’ and ‘is’ are two different things. I’d rather just skip the entire thing.”

Bucky frowns. “I don’t think you should.”

“You don’t think I should?”

“I don’t… I’m not telling you what to do, but I really think you should try. Love can be really great. And you deserve that.”

Your nails pinch at your fingers. “But what if it isn’t?”

“Then it isn’t.” You move to rebut, but Bucky continues. “But what if it is?”

You refuse to answer, chewing on your bottom lip.

Bucky gazes at you, waiting for a response before he realizes he won’t get one. He doesn’t push, turning back to his work.

“Why do you care so much?” you ask.

He sucks in a breath before admitting, “Mainly because I think you would really enjoy being loved. And very partially because I’m selfish.”

You hum. “You’re a really good guy, Bucky.”

“I try.”

You scowl lightly. “Incorrigible. Annoying. But really good.”

Bucky laughs. “Don’t forget—what was it you said about me? Charming? Sweet? Hand-to-heart hilarious?”

You launch a pillow at his head. “Nuisance is what I should’ve said.”

“Mm, a little contradictory but what’s life without some juxtaposition? Maybe I’m a man of many talents.”

The tip of your index finger shoves into his arm.

You fall into a peaceful silence once again when the laughter dissolves, your fingers busy away at your keyboard. There's a moment where you’re thinking, staring intently just past your computer and Bucky is staring at you, a thoughtful expression on his face, stony and all.

“Will you?”

It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to you. “Will I what?”

“Give it a chance.”

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

You look to your side, unfocused eyes lazy on an ugly painting.

“Yeah, maybe.” You want to tell him it depends who it is, that you have very strict rules mentioning annoying brunets with blue eyes who walk you home from the library and never shut up, but you don’t, eyes travelling back to him slowly. His silence when they finally meet his own tell you he knows anyway.

Quickly looking back down, you avoid his gaze and continue to work.

-

You melt into his side, delightfully prickling when you lean in a little closer to take a sip of your drink. Eyes shimmering in the lame lights of the bar, you’ve never looked so openly bright, hardly containing your delight and everything you can spilling past anyway.

There are enough people in the place for it to feel rightfully uncomfortable, sweat-sticky skin bumping into the arm he has around your chair and making the heat rise, but Bucky can’t seem to notice.

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

It’s not enough to just have your fingers tug at him during conversations with strangers, he feels he should imprint the feeling of your touch like a branding.

You say his name in conversation, cruelly dragging your hand down to bracelet around his wrist and squeezing. You make a little shimmy with your shoulders that can’t help but make him laugh. He zeroes in on your lips, trying to make sense of what you’re saying.

You’re cute. You’re too sweet to be in this stuffy bar with him.

You turn to him brightly in the midst of another exclamation and he feels himself transported.

He can feel the end buzzer vibrating up to his fingertips, the breeze on the heat of his skin when he’d looked up, eyes searching for you like a habit. 

Your features are shrunken into the memory, suddenly far away but still pulled into the biggest beam you could muster, hands clapping ecstatically.

“Bucky,” memory-you says liltingly, too clearly.

When he blinks, he’s back in the present, the tip of your index dimpling his bicep, your face close enough for him to count each individual eyelash. He grins without really thinking about it. “Bucky,” you repeat, a little harsher but still teasing.

“Yeah?” he responds finally.

“We’re complimenting you and you aren’t paying attention? Are you feeling okay?” you frown, lips downturned but the edges of your eyes still crinkled with happy lines. The back of your hand meets his forehead.

“Fantastic,” he says, his left hand vining up to hook around your fingers and lay them on his lap. “Just won a game, didn’t you hear? All by myself, too.”

You shake your head at him, turning back to who Bucky realizes is one of your friends. Carol, you’d said.

“See?” You say accusatorily. 

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

That catches Bucky’s fluttering attention, an eyebrow shooting up questioningly in your direction. Your lips part in betrayal at Carol, and you begin to take your hand back from Bucky, but he hooks your wrist before you can. 

“I think Maria is calling you,” you tell her. “You should go see what that’s about.”

“Now, now,” Bucky starts. “Actually, I think I want to know how thoroughly you talk about me, sweeheart.”

“That's my cue,” Carol laughs, dipping a beer at you both. “I'll see you guys later. Congrats on the game.”

She bounces to her feet and takes off, leaving the two of you alone. Bucky nudges a finger in between your ribs, making you jump and swat at him. “Hey!”

“You talk about me to your friends?”

You stare at him, bottom lip pushing out defensively in your tipsiness. “Well, the star football player is one of my best friends, shouldn’t I be allowed to brag?”

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

You wave him off, making a small, stubborn sound. “He ought to get over it with how much he ditches me.”

“See, I would never.” Bucky presses his free hand to his heart in oath. “Star football players are very reliable. Scoring goals, keeping plans, etcetera.”

You grin at the reminder, something sparkling beneath your skin like static, jolting your fingers when it begins to brim. You splay an excited palm on his shoulder out of pure excitement, seeming to relive the night.

“I am so proud of you,” you say. Saccharine, words stout with a smile and pride. “You did so well today.”

You’re startlingly genuine, entirely proud. Bucky can’t bring himself to tease or flirt.

“Thank you.”

You smile prettily, the light in your irises shifting at his authenticity. “I am,” you insist.

You just want to tell him, for him to hear you and understand how much you mean it. Your pupils flicker to a spot above his shoulder, distant for a second as your face brightens more. You laugh disbelievingly.

“I don't know all that much about football but from what I do, you’re certifiably extraordinary.” You sound out the word, unwilling to mess it up when you mean it so much. You try again. “You made a really great play.”

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

You observe him for a second. “I think you’re amazing,” you say thoughtfully, not in an effort to compliment but in a sort of realization. “What… type of person…” you start but don’t continue, tongue unable to keep up with everything running through your mind. The walks home, the paid lunches, the attention, the ability. 

You inhale sharply, as if realizing you’re drifting off and trying to pull yourself back in.

Bucky knows what you expect—what he expects of himself—but he can’t bring himself to tease you, reiterate your words with an artful curve of his lips. He can’t concentrate enough to ignore the prickly warmth at the bottom of his stomach. He glances down at his watch.

“Should we go?” he says instead, casual but urgent. “It's late.”

He stands before you can process his offer, still a little drunk from stolen sips but only enough to make contrasts lighter. You blink up at him from your seat for a second before nodding, two short, stressed lines between your brows. He shouldn’t have been so abrupt.

Kinder, he helps you from your seat and guides you toward the door, keeping you away from stray elbows with benevolent redirection.

Your breath curls visibly in the air when you step outside, white and dissolving until it is replaced by another, longer exhale. You wrap your arms around your torso.

“C'mon,” he urges, guiding you to his car. “Let’s get you warm.”

“Should you be driving?” you ask as he searches his pockets for the keys, standing at the car door, watching him. “And what about the others?”

“Didn’t drink,” he answers, patting his coat pockets until he finds what he’s looking for.

You frown, slowly running through the night and realizing he’s right, recalling the sparkling water dripping moisture next to his jacket sleeve. The cold and the ennui knock a lot into focus.

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

He rounds around to meet you, opening the door, and waiting patiently.

“Why didn’t you drink?” you ask. You’ve seen him drink before, tipsy in that breezy way where he’s a little flirtier with a little less filter. “You won a game. If you ever deserved it, it’s now.”

“I had to be able to drive you back.” He shrugs, cocking his head in the direction of the open car door. “Speak of the devil,” he starts pointedly, reminding you of your frigidity.

Still contemplating, you climb inside with furrowed brows, following Bucky's figure as he shuts your door, jogs back to his side, and settles into the driver’s seat. Rubbing his hands together, he turns to look at you. 

“You okay?” he asks.

“Uh huh.”

He clicks his tongue. “Look at that. I think you’re a little drunker than I thought.”

“I am not,” you argue, looking down at yourself and seeing nothing wrong until Bucky reaches over to pull your seatbelt over you. “Oh.”

Bucky breathes out a little laugh, amused.

“I'm just…” You contemplate for a second, sinking into the rumbling of the engine when Bucky turns the car on. Immediately, heat slaps your nose. The glass meets your temple bitingly, jolting your sentence back on track. You turn to see Bucky's attention already on you. “Happy.”

“You’re happy?” Bucky repeats pleasantly, shifting the gear into drive.

“Yes. It was a good day today.” 

You feel clearer now, the edges of reality crisper as you look out the window. “I know I already said it, but I'm really proud, Bucky. You win games and ace tests and don’t celebrate with a drink to drive me home. You’re kind of great.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, glancing at you.

You hum an affirmation, inhaling deeply. At some point, Your few-sip buzz dissipated into something different.

Sober, but influenced on the darkness of the sky and the roundness of the moon. It feels safe suddenly, a rush of energy jolting you straight. You stare at Bucky's profile. “Yeah,” you confirm clearly. “It's kind of disappointing, you know.”

Bucky is caught off guard, sparing you a look when he stops at a stoplight. “What?”

“I just thought you’d be different.”

“How?” His brows are furrowed.

You take a moment to ponder. “Not so… you. More of the unforgivably arrogant and ignorant jock variety.”

“So you were expecting me to be one of those cartoon stereotypes?” he teases, looking back at the road with an easier smile.

“Kind of,” you laugh. “But you’re not and that’s really great.”

The red light from outside drapes over his features, pulled as he searches the crevices of your face. In response, it slackens slowly, from thoughtful to a little dazed as you stare back. Without meaning to, you’re leaning in at the same time he is.

His skin flips green.

You fall away from him with a surprised exhale, blinking in confusion.

It takes a second for Bucky to look away after you have, and you consider yourself lucky there’s no one else on the road during the long moment it takes for his attention to switch back to driving.

He doesn’t want to just forget what happened. He doesn’t want to move on from this yet. “What does that mean?” he asks, your compliment playing on repeat in his mind.

You stay silent, trying to figure it out yourself. “I don't… I don’t know.”

He tries to remain unbothered, glancing at you once more to catch your focus unmovingly on him. He pulls into your driveway and turns off the car.

“What about going on a date with me?” he requests, a little more serious that usual but glazed in his usual tone. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he continues.  “I'll dress up in that shade of blue you think I look so good in and we’ll go out to eat at that little hole-in-the-wall restaurant I'm still impressed you found. You’ll order that same thing you always do, and we can talk about that novel you’re reading—”

He doesn’t wait for the answer you’ve given before, stepping out of the car and striding over to your side.

You gaze up at him when he opens your door, your buckle unclasped in your hand. He's kind as he always is as he helps you out, hands settling on your shoulders to steady you when you nearly trip over a ridge in the sidewalk.

“Or… or we could go take a walk around the park. Or go to the movies, or the amusement park, or do laundry or taxes or—anything as long as it’s with you.”

And maybe it’s the easy smile, with the glitter of gold pride still sewn into his lips, or the genuine kindness he’s never failed to show you under the mask of the moon. Maybe it’s the proximity. Maybe you just can’t help yourself anymore. You kiss him.

He’s frozen for a solid moment, thick enough for you to start doubting yourself, beginning to pull away when he finally reacts, practically melting into you as his hands frantically pull you closer.

He pulls away hesitantly, torturously, a second later, eyes scrutinizing. “Wait, wait, wait, are you drunk?”

You shake your head, laughing gently at the thumb that pulls gently at the skin beneath your eye to make sure, urgently tugging you back into the kiss when he’s satisfied.

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

“It’s me,” you promise, pulling back. Before you can delve into your mind too deeply, you nod suddenly. “Yeah, okay.”

“Yeah, okay what?” he repeats, chasing after you to kiss you a few more times.

“I'll go out with you.”

His smile drops, fingers tightening around your hips. “Wait, really?”

You nod. “Yeah.” You grasp his arms tightly. “I should at least try, right?”ey

[euaphora]

DONT BE SO QUICK TO WALK AWAY!

✎ᝰ subby!needy!bf!dave x reader

sitting on dave’s lap, while he reads a marvel comic, you facing him and give him quick kisses all over his face.

“I can’t focus babe..” he murmurs out as his breath sounds heavier than before. “Oh, should I get off then?” you suggested as you start hoping off him, he quickly wraps his large hands around your hips and holds you by your hips as he looks up at you. When you sit back down on his lap and move around to get comfortable again, you feel something poke under you.

It felt very rough and felt like it slipped through your panties—rubbing off on you— wrong day to wear a mini golf skirt.

“What’s this?” You ask, looking down to his shaft. “Are you-?”

“No, no! Not like that, its just im-“ he stutters out trying to find the right words without sounding weird about it, “Hard?” You question him as you tilt your head to the side. You loved teasing him, watching the way his cheeks turned a darker shade of pink each time you even so much as breathe.

God you made him harder, if it was even possible since his cock felt like a brick when massaged it through his clothed pants.

“Shit!”

“Would you mind waiting for me outside? I’ll be quick…promise.” He nervously asked, giving you a awkward smile. “Can..i help you?” You ask him, clearly giving him a hint that you would if he was comfortable with it. He body stiffens when you say that and opens his mouth ready to say something just to close it.

“You don’t think I’d do a good job?” You question, messing around with him while you slowly rock you hips. He quickly shakes his head side to side and puts his hands up in defense. “No! Of course not baby it’s just-” he hesitated “would you even want to? I don’t want to make you feel like you have to just cause your my girlfriend.”

You don’t say anything as you pull him in by the back of his neck for a kiss as you start rocking your hips back and forth a little harder than before. He places his hands on waist, hands trembling, and pulls you in closer leaving no space between you both. You rock your hips deeper now, “god! I’ll cum inside my pants if you keep this up, sweetheart…fuck!” He cries out while gripping onto the plush parts of your thighs for support.

He can’t hold back any longer, not even realizing what he was doing when he pulls off your crop top over your head and and clips off your bra. You do the same with his oversized t-shirt and zip down his pants.

You pull out his cock from his breifs now on your knees kissing his tip, kitten licking it while keeping eye contact with him the entire time. “Don’t tease me…” he whimpers, breaking the eye contact by looking down at your hands wrapping themselves around his tip, looking like he’s ready to cry.

“My poor baby boy, why didn’t you just tell me how mad your cock was? I could have helped you hours ago.” You coo while you play with his balls, grabbing at them as he lets out a loud groan, rolling his eyes to the back of his head.

“Momma, please! h-hurts so bad…” he starts taking off his glasses from fog in his glasses, not being able to see anything.

You stop your movements and lightly pull at him, “put them back on.” You scold him, giving him a warning look. “B-but I can’t see, I just wanna watch you, please baby..” he whines out as he pleads out a cry. You just shake you head and wait for him, your mouth ready to be used. “Okay! Okay! Just don’t stop!” He exclaimed, just wanting for you to not stop, almost reaching his climax, while you go back to going faster than before. “Good boy. So good for me, aren’t you?” You smile looking up at him while kissing at his tip. He nods rapidly while he watches you make him feel so so good.

“This is this stuff you get when you behave and do as your told.”

“Cumming…i-im cumming!” He moans out, thrusting his hips forwards trying to find more friction to your hands. You feel a warm seed pop inside your agape mouth as you look up at his tired body, sticking out your tongue full of his seed.

He half-smiles as he watches you swallow it all and stick your tounge out again. You straddle him and give a kiss on the lips making him taste himself. You pull away, him following you with his lips.

“How was it, baby boy?” You ask him with cum slipping out your mouth, quickly lick it it up from the sides. He looks at your lips than you with no words in his head. You giggle at him, and slip inside him, cockwarming him.

[voonroo]

Hell? [01]

⌐‣Hazbin Hotel + Bat-Like Teen Reader

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AUTHOR’S NOTE: YOOOOO SHOUT OUT TO @blueberrymuffin-6 FOR BEING THE FIRST PERSON TO GUESS THAT READER WOULD BE LIKE A BAT!!! I'm so happy someone picked up on my hints. I'm really excited to post this chapter considering how much love the first one got😭 THANK YOU GUYS SM FOR THE LOVE AND SUPPORT THE HAZBIN FANDOM HAS SHOWN FOR MY TEEN READER WRITINGS💝

Also I can't guarantee that there won't be triggering subjects in the future chapters!! There's nothing of that here yet and I will put warning when needed but you’ll only find something this chapter if you REALLY look.

I'd love to hear from you guys your speculations as well!! Send them through my inbox or contact me in discord!! I love interacting with you guys!!

My head hurts…

Am I lying down?

Is it raining?

Opening your eyes, you were met with a dull light to your right, everything else was dark. Rubbing your eyes, you groggily sat up.

You could see, but the light to your right was actually making it hard… You felt a light weight on your head and slight pain in your back. You looked down, you had… fur?

Taking deep breaths, you closed your eyes. You could hear everything so well. From the sound of your heart, to the rain outside.

Where am I?

How did I get here?

Considering that you couldn't remember anything, you felt strangely calm. Like a blanket was over your head and you were blocking out the world around you.

The rain was nice… soft blankets, a plushie? What was it...? It was dark? I had a flashlight, a book? And whatever the plushie was…

A sudden knock interrupted your thoughts. The noise caught you so off guard you physically jumped, you tried to look at the door as you heard the knob turning.

“Oh! You're awake!” You heard a quick patter of footsteps coming in your direction, before a blob entered your vision- or what little vision you had anyway. You couldn't make out the shape in front of you, even with your eyes wide open. There was… red? Or maybe pink? You couldn't tell. Your eyes darted around, and your breathing picked up.

“Hey now- You're all tense! What are you anyways?” The blog had a cheery voice, rather high-pitched. It hurt your ears. You could feel a small hand grab at your arm- rubbing the fur.

“Nifty!” Another sudden noise made you jump. Your body tensing up in a panic. You couldn't hear the rain anymore even if it was so close… You could only hear your heart beating quickly and your uneven breathing.

Then, there were hands cupping your face, a calm, quiet voice accompanying it.

“Hey, calm down.” On instinct, you took a deep breath. Were you holding your breath before? Or were you breathing too rapidly? Where were you again? Sitting up right? Wait- it's raining… that's right… it's raining.

“Are you okay?” The voice to the hands cupping your cheeks spoke again. You could barely focus your eyes enough to see more than just gray. Did the voice have a… wait- the voice asked me a question-

“I-I can't see…” You almost didn't recognize your own voice. It came out so quietly, hardly audible.

You could have sworn you saw the gray blob furrow their eyebrows.

“What's your name?”

“I don't… I don't know?”

The calm the voice was deemed Vaggie.

Vaggie described herself as having long grey hair, grey skin- which you initially found weird- and a pink X over her left eye.

Vaggie told you that the loud, almost squeaky voice that you first heard was Nifty. She also told you where you were and what had happened for you to be here.

You had previously run into one of their friends named… Angel Dust? And apparently, passed out? Then he brought you here, and… here is… I don't remember…

You do remember Vaggie telling you that there were other people here and they were made aware of your existence as well.

Vaggie was also kind enough to explain that you were in hell… she also took the creative liberties in describing to you what you looked like.

“Well… You did take on the appearance of a bat- which is normal, it's normal for people to take on animal-like appearances in hell. For instance, we have someone here who takes on deer antlers and someone who has fur like you but looks like a cat… But you have these ears above your head, small wing protruding from your back, and… foggy eyes-”

The two of you spent time making the connections. The big bat-like ears atop your head gave you really good hearing, and the wings on your back were the cause of your back pain, (and the fact that you had been lying on them) and your foggy eyes contributed to your lack of sight. You took on the appearance of a bat.

The two of you tried to answer Vaggie’s earlier question from before about your name, but to no avail. She had to force you to stop trying to figure it out when you started getting worked up. You did come to the conclusion that you were very young- at least very young to be in hell. Guessing that you were around 15 years of age. Maybe a little younger or maybe a little older, but it felt right enough.

Or maybe you guys had settled on that answer as you dozed back off. The rain hadn't let up and with all this new information to really process, Vaggie let you rest. The clock was growing near to striking morning anyways.

Word Count: 817

A/N: I've also made the tag #voonroo’s bat-like reader for you guys to use as well if you make any posts on it!!