#ok idk if he turned down being in the movie or what but i still wish it could’ve been a reality

[dibbs-n-scribbs]

Just watched the fnaf movie and i loved it. Wish there was more of a horror element on screen but the subtle cues of as to what happened were also pretty cool. Anyways im gonna be ranting in the tags cause i dont have the energy to write a well thought-out review xp

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)

synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too

— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)

— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)

— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it’s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333

the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good. 

you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left. 

and then satoru wins. 

you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead. 

whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure. 

and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware. 

for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.

it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place. 

he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it. 

“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free. 

“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”

“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”

“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair. 

it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared. 

it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.

you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on. 

you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close. 

“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”

“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”

“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”

“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”

your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper. 

“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?” 

suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for. 

you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore. 

“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down. 

“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.

“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”

you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were. 

but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself. 

you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.

“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”

“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”

“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”

“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.

“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever. 

i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.

“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.

he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”

it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why. 

————————————————

even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought. 

the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare. 

you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature. 

“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again. 

as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face. 

except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high. 

it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath. 

“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause. 

and then you remember. 

faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru. 

it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have. 

but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again. 

“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh. 

“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.

“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”

it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself. 

“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close. 

“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”

you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness. 

when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night. 

————————————————

“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans. 

“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest. 

it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room. 

but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don’t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry. 

“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.

“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”

“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”

“tell him to go fuck off.”

“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”

“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly. 

you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not. 

he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen. 

you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast. 

but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between. 

so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”

“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace. 

“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.

he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile. 

“let’s go,” you hum.

“after you,” he mutters.

—

he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart. 

suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.  

it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.

as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name. 

“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”

he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles. 

for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away. 

“what are you—”

“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment. 

“what?”

“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”

“i’m not a teenager anymore—”

“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”

“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years. 

“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”

so you do. 

with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.

“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”

“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.

“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”

“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you. 

“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”

suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru. 

suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had. 

something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.  

but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him. 

“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”

“me too,” he says quietly.

“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”

home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.

“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”

“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind. 

his breath hitches. 

she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror. 

there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms. 

perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened. 

because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.

suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him. 

“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance. 

he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.

but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to. 

but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention. 

“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence. 

every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them. 

“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”

“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”

suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.

“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”

“sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them. 

but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.

————————————————

satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to. 

you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down. 

but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it. 

satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself. 

it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?

well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life. 

it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).

it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in. 

and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you. 

it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin. 

geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for. 

so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you? 

it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.

and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.

“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.

“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”

“about…?”

“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”

“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”

“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”

“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”

“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”

“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”

“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”

“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”

“what?” you blink.

“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”

“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”

“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it. 

but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life? 

good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him. 

and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal. 

ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score. 

he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous. 

“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”

“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”

“how lucky of you,” you snort. 

—

picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good. 

so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off. 

“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”

“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”

“of all movies—”

“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”

“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”

“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”

all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think. 

“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.

“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”

“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.

“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”

“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles. 

suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it. 

you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug. 

“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”

suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed. 

“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”

you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.

it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.

“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place. 

in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.

it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.

————————————————

suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look. 

“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”

“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”

“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch. 

“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”

“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.

“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”

“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”

“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes. 

sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this. 

“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”

“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”

despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room. 

suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.

“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”

there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook. 

suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again. 

he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.

“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind. 

“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”

“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”

“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”

“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”

“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks. 

it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.

deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.

it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left. 

it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good. 

you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence. 

it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away. 

“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.

“do what?”

“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”

“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”

“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.

“like what?” he raises a brow. 

“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation. 

he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.

“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”

you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.

of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too. 

you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes. 

“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”

“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.

fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too. 

“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”

“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”

never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?

“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”

“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”

“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”

“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”

“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”

“i know—”

“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?” 

“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”

“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.

“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever. 

being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive. 

“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.

“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”

you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.

“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.

he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy. 

“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.

“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru. 

“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little. 

it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled. 

“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”

“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”

“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises. 

“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”

“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”

“yeah,” you breathe.

he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough. 

you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink. 

finally, for once, you’re enough. 

“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”

“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”

“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”

“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.

he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering. 

maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much. 

in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.

“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum. 

“because i need you here. will you stay?”

“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”

hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3

also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok

[softevnstan]

(nsfw) random prompt event generator for bucky!!

Bucky and Y/N going back to one or the other's house after a date, where they eventually end up dry-humping on the couch. Y/N only intends this as foreplay, but Bucky is already getting overwhelmed. Y/N finds this amusing and endearing, leaning close to whisper something teasingly into Bucky's ear. It turns out that Bucky is more excited than Y/N thought, and hits orgasm without any further stimulation, to the surprise of Y/N and the embarrassment of Bucky. What happens next?

pairing. bucky barnes x gender neutral! reader

summary. After a date night out with Bucky as you explore your new relationship, you unintentionally wind up taking your makeout session a little too far. Quickly you learn it's been far too long since Bucky has had a partner.

warnings. SMUT - minors DNI. kissing, praise kink, dirty talk, size difference, beefy bucky, dry humping, masturbation (bucky and you), implied/referenced trauma, reader has v but still gender neutral. p with plot, recovering!bucky barnes (half-way).

a.n. ok, i have other things to write and originally i was gonna let this wait... until i read the prompt again and saw this as an opportunity for some mild bottom/fluffy bucky. (bucky is a bottom you can't change my mind, but i'll write top for you all i promise) starts a little fluffy at first because idk how to not write some sort of context to situations, and bucky is still in recovery reasonably so

w.c. 7.6k howdidthishappen

Your date with Bucky exceeded your expectations. Wary that things would potentially be a little rough around the edges while the soldier was still trying to put himself back together, you were pleasantly surprised when he picked you up at your apartment with a bouquet of flowers - specifically an interesting combination of sunflowers and roses. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had bought you flowers, and after running them inside so as to not ruin them by taking them on the trip, Bucky held your hand all the way to his motorcycle and helped you settle comfortably before embarking on the evening together. No awkward pauses or tense, heavy moments with Bucky; It was sweet and a dream come true that you didn’t even know you’d had.

He’d surprised you on where you both were going initially. Blindly trusting Bucky with wherever he chose your date location, he decided that the Art Museum was the safest choice. Dinners could be awkward - what if you don’t like the way someone chews their food? Movies hardly left time to actually get to know one another, instead just sitting in the dark with occasional spared glances. Anything too physical could be exerting and hinder you from another date with Bucky. So after indecisively pondering, Bucky had chosen that an art exhibit was the best way to go.

You loved it.

So many classic paintings and countless mediums of art filled the halls as you two strode hand in hand. Bucky was on the quieter side, but not enough to deter you. He’d smile and watch the twinkle in your eyes when you both came across a particularly marvelous work of art that you loved. Bucky had listened smittenly as you gushed about the way some pieces of art made you feel or the message you interpreted behind it all. Eventually, Bucky had begun to open up throughout the night to do the same. What felt like hours of enriched conversation and two people simply being in the moment.

Sometimes people don’t need candles and rose petals, sometimes people just need someone to talk to and feel just as down to earth with. 

Unfortunately, neither of you had finished going through the whole museum together in one sitting.

Bucky had used that as the opportunity to salvage the situation; “I guess that means we’ll just have to come back together.” He’d said fondly when you both stopped at the mini-cafe built in the museum before you both left.

Instead of letting the date die down when the museum began closing for the night, you offered to bring the party back to your apartment instead. Tempting Bucky with a bottle of wine sitting in your kitchen so you two could just spend some more time together, he didn’t need too much convincing. Any excuse to stay close to you, to steal some of your time just a little longer before returning to his dull apartment. 

‘How could I say no to you, doll?’ He had said, and you’d beamed at the small victory.

Truly, you hadn’t meant for it to end up where it was (not that you were complaining). When you asked Bucky to come into your apartment building, when you’d walked together hand in hand, you didn’t think you’d wind up like this. But somewhere between being plastered against Bucky’s backside and having the privilege to let your hands wander and explore tight leather hiding thick arms or the adrenaline of feeling the wind whipping in your hair, you’d started to become insatiable on the trip back.

Bucky had this way with you that made you feel like a teenager in love all over again.

Sure, he was quiet, but he was misunderstood. Soft and sweet, he had a compassionate heart and an intelligent mind, the gentle giant. 

It’d taken some time to help Bucky bring down those walls initially - countless weeks you’d spent just trying to be his friend before he finally caved and agreed. He was a private person, you learned, but once peeling back all the layers, Bucky was amazing and worth all the work that went into opening him up. Creative and smart, a book-lover and funny, he was gentle and tender and emotional in every way that a man could be if they let themselves. He wasn’t afraid to be honest, but was instead afraid to voice that too loud. He wasn’t afraid to be emotional or vulnerable with those he trusted - not the unfeeling machine that so many had made him out to be. Bucky had simply needed someone who understood him - or was willing to if nothing else.

Once you’d gotten past all of it, all of the rough nights and moody days, it was worth it. You’d watched Bucky become something he never was before…

He was the one who had taken your relationship a step further. 

Tentatively and timidly, might you add. Always endearing. He’d been anxious asking you to come out with him - as though he’d been fighting with himself for a long while on whether or not he should even ask. When he finally called you and asked if you’d like to go out on a date with him tonight - yes, he’d used date - you’d been elated. 

And sure, you were moving a little too fast at that moment, but life is short and he’s already on seventy years of borrowed time. Bucky deserves to be loved.

Warm hand had rubbed up the length of Bucky’s bicep, and you gave his shoulder a squeeze when getting off of his motorcycle with a teasing glint in your eyes.

When he walked with you into the building, you hugged his left arm to your side - refusing for any additional space to come between the both of you as you prattled on about 'Birthday', by Dorothea Tanning and how you interpreted it as the door into the imagination, and Bucky was busy trying to remember which painting it was you were talking about - it was 'the winged scared cat-creature on the floor' that rejogged his memory.

Bucky was just happy you clung so easily to the cold and hard metal of his vibranium arm as if it were his own.

Turning into your hall, you’d begun to pull Bucky by the arm. Turning on your heel and offering him a smitten smile when you tugged him closer to your body in a backward walk. His eyes crinkled at the corners with his smile, his smile wide and showing off pretty white teeth. Even the sheepish duck of his head was precious when you led him into your apartment, finally excited to have time where it could be just you and Bucky without prying eyes.

"If you were eager to get home, you could've just said so," Bucky teased you, and you gave a playful smirk in response.

"M'not, I'm just excited to finally be alone with you." you'd cooed, attempting to make the words seductive but honestly they came more sentimental than anything.

The door gave way behind you when you twisted the knob with your one hand, the other still clutching to Bucky's sleeve. It didn't give Bucky a chance to respond to your retort when you tugged him right on into your apartment. Instead, it earned a chuckle that snapped into a gasp with your pull.

It was when that door shut that something came over you. Tucked into your own little corner of the world, you didn’t fear overwhelming Bucky with affection that made him uncomfortable. No worries about people gawking and making him feel out of place (or him being afraid of gawking, really). 

When you both were just past the threshold of your apartment, you turned and used your foot to push the door shut. Fingers sliding up Bucky's arm, you used the moment to grab the lapels of his leather coat and step back - coming flush with the door and dragging Bucky right on into your tight space.

Hardly giving him a chance to protest. Wide cobalt eyes study you when you both are finally still, Bucky's hands hovering a little uselessly briefly and while shocked, still pleasantly surprised by your bravery.

"Someone is a little impatient," Bucky comments, expression softening. "Not impatient, just excited." You defend with a loving smile. "I could've sworn there was a bottle of wine mentioned..." Bucky trails. "Can you even get intoxicated?" You rhetorically question with a curious tilt of your head and a knowing grin. "Can't I drink for the taste like most people do?" Bucky retorts. "Touché."

You both fall into a small fit of giggles and soft laughs, the small talk helping to alleviate some of Bucky's nerves. His hands slowly come to settle on your sides since you're not budging from where you'd pressed flat against the door. Enjoying being wedged between a door and Bucky - you'd be crazy not to.

Despite the way, your mind is running a million miles a minute and your gaze can't seem to draw away from Bucky's pouty lips, Bucky doesn't seem to be picking up as easily on your advances. That's okay. He's always been worth the wait.

“...Did you have a good evenin’, doll?” he asks, flesh hand smoothing down to delicately rest on your hip.

“I was with you, wasn’t I?" Bucky looks at you for a beat as if slightly unconvinced... "Yes, Bucky. One of the best dates I've ever been on... ‘S a shame, I don’t want it to end.” You coo, drawing Bucky in closer until you’re both flush against each other. His left-gloved hand lifted to push your hair from your face tenderly. 

“Who says it has to end right here?” Bucky hums with his signature playboy grin - no wonder why he had every girl in Brooklyn creaming their panties.

The low husk of his voice strikes you to your very core, allowing your imagination to run wild with the countless thoughts of what the man before you could really do if he tried. Really, it wouldn’t take much; Bucky already had you curled around his finger, whether he knew it or not was another question.

“I thought you’d never ask,” pleased, you lay your hands flat on Bucky’s chest. Feeling under his open coat and hands finding the expanse of muscle. You tilt your head back, biting your bottom lip seductively with a cheeky grin.

You aren’t ready to find Bucky’s eyes watching you so intently. The way he wets his bottom lip before worrying it between his teeth and releasing that pouty lip of his. Eyes boring right into you and keeping you pinned between him and the door. Ever so carefully, Bucky cups your cheek in his large gloved palm. There’s hardly a missed beat when you turn your head and nose affectionately into his palm, able to hear the soft whirring of the machinery before pressing a chaste kiss to leave behind.

“I had fun tonight,” You reiterate to him softly - the drag of your lips accentuated with every word against his palm.

“M’glad. You look good when you’re happy.” Bucky murmurs, but he seems distracted. Cobalt eyes follow every drag of your lips, Bucky exhales a shallow breath. 

“I bet I could think of a few ways you could make me even happier, Bucky,” you singsong, hand sliding up over Bucky’s that hold your cheek to press affectionately into his touch. Always grateful for anything, nuzzling into him like a needy kitten. 

Part of you is waiting for the next step. For him to make the next move - that’s the dance between you two. You step, and Bucky steps one more further. Playing off of each other. It doesn’t come.

“M’sure you could, sugar,” Bucky starts, and you’re waiting for the ‘But’... “But,” There it is. “Maybe we should slow down just a little. It’s been such a good night…”

“We could make it better,” you offer, and Bucky flushes slightly at the implication.

“...I don’t want to move too fast,” Bucky says after a pause in a hushed whisper - as though scared if he speaks any louder, the universe may come in and rip this good thing away from him as it has a history of doing.

“Listen, I care about you. And I had a really, really good time with you - I’m still so happy you agreed to come out with me. But you’re not- Not some dame. I’m not just trying to get into your pants, Y/N…” Bucky elaborates tentatively, and you watch him with understanding in your gaze.

“I know,” You softly lament. “You’re not that kind of fella, Bucky…” “I want you to feel comfortable with me - happy,” Bucky emphasizes, and for half a moment your heart hurts for the man in front of you. So convinced he’s still capable of doing harm, even after all of this time. “I can’t think of a time I’ve been uncomfortable around you at all, actually,” Softly you contest, and Bucky offers you a briefly amused smile. 

“We can take our time,” Bucky presses; You can tell it’s more for him than it is for you. “Anything you need.” No questions about it. Nuzzling into Bucky’s palm, your lips form a chaste smile. “You’re too good to me, sugar…” “Funny, I’ve found myself thinking that all night.” Bucky finds humor in the words; expression softening and some of the tension that had begun to rebuild in him falling away. Bucky laughs. Soft, but rich. He leans in and presses a lingering kiss to your temple; Protective and loving. “Earlier, you said you had fun… So did I. This was one of the best nights in a while for me,” The admission comes with the feel of Bucky’s lips ghosting your skin. It’s distracting.

“I’m glad; You deserve good things, too, Bucky.” Something you tend to try to remind Bucky of often; You’ll slam that fact into his head until he one day decides to believe it for himself and see what everyone else sees. “You are my good thing,” he whispers even quieter; Unintentionally dropping the tone of his voice and sending shivers down your spine.

No words are exchanged when your hands lift and find Bucky’s defined jaw; cradling him gently and drawing him in for a deep but loving kiss. The first of many tonight.

Both you and Bucky had soon migrated from the door in the foyer to your cozy living room. You both struggled to keep space between one another; Lips meeting together over and over again. The only sound was your own heart pounding in your ears and the soft breaths between you and Bucky. 

You were planted in his lap. Sat on strong, thick thighs - your arms draped around Bucky’s broad shoulders. His hands sat comfortably on your sides; gloves abandoned on the coffee table when he’d wanted to feel you. Not leather obstructing him from feeling the proper warmth of your flushed skin. His head tipped back to accommodate the way you had gained a few inches on him upon being seated in his lap.

Despite the way you two were entangled, it was nothing more than kisses. His hands hadn’t dared to venture below your belt, and while the kisses were definitely full of passion, it wasn’t the flame you were yearning and burning for. To respect Bucky’s request though, you didn’t proceed any further. Content with the taste of Bucky on your tongue, the warmth of his breath, and the barely there noises you were able to draw out of him that rumbled in his chest. His lips were soft and moved naturally against one another - It was a moment of euphoria.

Just the way your mouths slotted together alone was enough to rile you up; It’d been so long, and no one was as tender a lover as Bucky was with you. Each time he touched you, it was with consideration and care for what you wanted, what would feel good. Never in the means of his own self-gain. It made you that much more desiring of him; the connection that you both maintained had been there for months, it was simply that you both had finally begun to act on it. 

You’d told yourself you’d be slow. Take this at your own pace. No one wants to rush into a relationship that has the potential to end messy. But there you were; Necking in your living room with Brooklyn’s finest bachelor since 1936. Truly, you were only human, and it hadn’t escalated further than that. Breathing each other in, heated and heavy. You hadn’t even done it intentionally.

One could only fault you so much when your hips rolled into Bucky’s. Formerly nestled still in his lap, you found yourself moving without thought. Grinding down into the soldier’s lap, it elicited a deep groan from his throat, and tilted his head down to pull your lips apart. His hands instinctively moved to your hips; Clutching moderately tight to still your ministrations. You relished in the subtle pressure that came with Bucky’s hands securely enough to hold you still for hardly a moment. It was enough time for you to have realized the mistake you’d made.

“Shit, I’m sorry–” you stammered between the both of you, and Bucky instead took a shallow inhale. “No, no– It… It was good. It felt good, it’s-... It’s just… been a while.” Bucky timidly expressed, cheeks flushed and breathless. You noticed how he struggled briefly to maintain a heated gaze with you, eyes averting before pinching shut altogether.

“Do we need to stop? It’s okay if we do, Bucky…” Let him know that he had that out if he needed it; You wouldn’t be upset.

That option left Bucky shaking his head profusely. “No,” he rasps out, and you can feel his breath fanning your face. Can still taste him on your lips. You’re both still so close… You can feel the faint flex of his fingers holding you. “I want to keep going… Just… Give me a moment, alright?” He requests, and you give him a comforting smile and an understanding nod.

Your fingers card up into Bucky’s disheveled locks and brush thick hair back from falling in his face. Some of the tension leaves his body when you press a chaste kiss to his temple. 

“Whatever you need,” you softly let him know. You’re both still for a minute or two. Simply letting Bucky hold your hips while you kept some of the pressure on your knees - dug into the cushions on either side of his thick thighs. Soothingly rubbing your fingers through Bucky’s hair and giving him a tender hug he relishes in.

Then, slowly, he pulls you back down. Guiding your ass back into his lap and bodies coming flush together. The moment is experimental and you allow Bucky to take all the time he needs even if there is a burning in your thighs from the awkward position. Basking in the relief with a soft sigh and nosing into Bucky’s hair. His hands experimentally dare to explore a little further down. Rubbing from your waist down over your hips to the tops of your thighs. His hands feel like that of a bear's paws in comparison to your physique. 

“How are we feeling…?” You ask, checking in on him. “A little better… I’ve been using that 4-7-8 breathing method my therapist recommended, actually,” Bucky says, and you can tell for a moment he just needs to play it by ear. Even if you both don’t do anything tonight, he’s worth the wait.

“Really? That’s good,” Indulging in the moment of chit-chat as his hands still continue the back-and-forth motion. Hypnotizing and leaving your thighs tingling.

Bucky’s reply comes in a soft hum, tilting his head down to nudge his nose at your neck. You tilt your head enough for him to burrow in the hollow of your throat and nose affectionately there. His warm breath makes your skin break out in goosebumps. You let out a shaky exhale before a sappy grin spreads across your face.

He begins to slowly mouth at the sensitive skin of your throat. Gentle kisses and the faint scratch of his stubble that initially tickles enough to make you wiggle in his lap. 

“Bucky!” You squeak and you feel the grin against your skin.

“Easy, easy…” Bucky lowly tells you and it burns into your core. It’s easy to go lax when he’s the voice coaxing you back. “Good doll,” Bucky says with a chuckle - clearly teasing but it makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside. 

“M’ticklish,” You defend as your arms squeeze around his shoulders. “I can tell. Might come in handy one day…” His lips still ghost over your skin; ever so distracting.

“You wouldn't.” “I might,” Bucky says, his voice smooth but thick like honey.

A playful pinch to Bucky’s shoulder makes him surrender with a laugh before tipping his head up to press your foreheads together again. This time you’re surprised to find his eyes meeting yours head-on.

“Thank you for being understanding,” Bucky addresses the elephant in the room, traces of anxiety in those gray eyes. “I’m still trying to learn how to let myself be with someone else…”

The words feels so raw; A hushed confession and a moment Bucky is being fully honest with you. Not hiding from it or skirting around it - communicating his boundaries and being able to give himself the time he needs. Your chest swells with pride for the man before you in his growth; You’re so inlove. 

“It’s okay, really. I’m not here just to get into your pants, Bucky. I care about you, and we can go as fast or as slow as you need.” You affirm, always wanting Bucky to know that. That he’s safe with you the way you are with him.

“I know,” he whispers, tipping his head up a little further to let your lips brush. “It’s why I like you so much…”

You smile, unable to help but feel a fluttering in your chest. Bucky draws you the rest of the way to press your lips together again. Starting from scratch so that Bucky is able to be more expecting and prepared this time. The build-up doesn’t bother you in the slightest, and it doesn’t take the both of you long to build up where you once were. Bucky’s comfortable kissing you. It’s everything else that daunts him.

Bucky is the one who holds your hips tight against his lap as he gives an experimental roll of his hips up into your ass; feeling the semi-bulge through his jeans. You gasp against his lips, and he seizes the moment to lick hot into your mouth. He doesn’t do it again; Teasing you and inviting you to take the next step. Experimentally, you return the gesture when you grind against Bucky’s lap. It draws a noise from both of you at that time.

“Yeah..,” Bucky huskily groans. “That’s good, fuck…” Bucky’s praise eggs you on to keep pressing down into Bucky. Rotating your hips to allow both of you to grind through your clothes; Traces of Bucky’s arousal evident in his jeans.

He steals your breath with a claiming kiss. Strong hands trailing up your thighs to test the waters. Feeling over the swell of your ass and encouraging you to keep pressing down into him. Rutting against his constricted and half-swelled cock. You’re unsure what to do with your hands other than planting them firmly on Bucky’s chest as you grind your sexes together. Fingers curling into bunch fabric of his shirt as Bucky’s head tilts to deepen your kiss further.

With each second that passes, you feel dizzier. High on the endorphins and lack of oxygen - your chest felt warm and fuzzy. Kissed senseless as Bucky’s firm hands squeeze the globes of your ass and rips a needy keen from your throat, drawing your grinds to a controlled halt. Right when you fear as though you might be too light-headed from the lack of air, Bucky shows some mercy. Freeing your lips and leaving you to gasp; Bucky licking his lips with a satisfied grin.

“I think I taste mint, did you pop a tic-tac earlier when I wasn’t looking…?” Bucky breathlessly teases, both of you so close that you can feel his smile. In that moment, you’re simply trying to return to Earth for a moment between soft, airy breaths. 

When you will yourself to finally look at Bucky again, his eyes are blown. His black pupils swallowing the blue of his eyes; leaving behind a thin ring. Something inside of him looks livelier than you’ve ever seen, Bucky’s cheeks flushed and lips swollen. 

“Jesus, Bucky,” is all you manage, earning a cheeky grin from Bucky - proud. “Speechless? I’m relieved to know after nearly a century I haven’t gotten rusty… It’d be embarrassing if I was 107 and didn’t know how to kiss,” Bucky jokes, and something inside of you feels so warm and fuzzy.

That you both can joke while still being in the moment and grinding into each other moments prior.

“Cocky, are we soldier?” You hum after regaining some of your composure, hands lifting to hold his face. Before Bucky has a chance to speak, the wiggle of your hips draws a reminder of the length in his jeans. Bucky chokes on a stifled groan low in his throat at the way you frott into him.

“Very funny,” he asks, still slightly out of breath.

“You took me by surprise,” you admit softly, “You never seem so brave…” “Frankly, sugar, it’s… Been a really long time. I’ve spent a too long runnin’ and not getting to actually feel alive - I’m not just surviving anymore. It’s taken time and it’ll still take more, but you make me feel better.” Bucky confesses fondly, and you snort with amusement. Pressing a loving kiss to his lips.

“Sap.” You murmur between soft pecks. “Only you could turn something hot into something sweet.” “Can’t we have both?” Bucky cooes. “Absolutely.”

This time, you take lead. Pecking kisses down from Bucky’s lips, over his stubbled cheek and defined jaw. His head tilts back to accommodate the way you nudge, leaving open-mouth kisses in your wake. Sucking the salty skin to leave behind loving bruises that will only last so long with Bucky’s healing factor. He groans; Adam’s apple bobbing when you stamp kisses back up his neck to the juncture of his ear and jaw. A soft kiss before you take a playful nip at his earlobe and send shivers racking through the man under you. “Oh, babydoll,” Bucky sighs airly, taking it upon himself to guide your hips. You move on your own accord as Bucky grinds you into his lap; Moving you back and forth to rut together through your clothes. You don’t have to do any of the work, instead just taking some time to give Bucky the loving he deserves.

When you peer at his face, his eyes are closed. Lashes kissing the tops of his cheeks and lips parted with soft breaths; the occasional clench of teeth pulls out a gravelly rumble from his chest. All of it has you so hot, so riled up. It’s just the two of you alone in the apartment; The air is charged with electricity between the two of you. The scrape of your teeth makes Bucky’s lips curl into a devious grin.

“You’re doin’ so good for me,” Bucky praises. “My pretty baby, yeah… God– Do you feel what you do to me, honey…?” Bucky’s voice was hoarse, the friction working him up just as much as it was you. The throbbing between your legs was becoming insatiable - your answer coming in a whimper as you sucked another purpling bruise into Bucky’s throat.

Your hips move enthusiastically. Trying to meet Bucky for every grind; Becoming too much for him to handle at one point. 

“Sl-Slow down, baby… Easy, we’ve got time,” he attempts to coax, but you’re busy chasing that high at that moment. You want to make Bucky feel good - this is doing that for him; Pleasing him. 

“What’s wrong, big guy?” You ask with an airy giggle, nosing up to Bucky’s ear. Your lips press against the shell of his ear; “I can’t get enough of you touching me, Bucky. I just want to make you come, thinking about it turns me on so much…”

You don’t realize until it’s too late what the words do to him, whispered out right in his ear. Bucky’s nose scrunches up and his jaw goes slack. His body becomes taut underneath you; Hands clutching hard and leaving a dull ache in your bones despite the way you’re still trying to move. Bucky’s hips stutter harshly, and suddenly he’s gasping out. Moaning low and breathy as he rides out his orgasm with half-hearted bucks up into your ass.

Your eyes widen with a sense of wonder as Bucky comes undone in those short few seconds. His lips curl into a perfect ‘o’ and he shudders, eyes pinched shut. “Ohhhh fuuuck,” Bucky moans, long and drawn out, and there’s not a hotter sight than Bucky Barnes coming because of you. You smile; Pleased with yourself and priding yourself on the fact of being able to be the one to do this to Bucky. You continue the grueling roll of your hips into his hard dick - little left to the imagination while your fingers tangle in his hair and you hold him close. Watching his face all the while; Not wanting to miss a single moment.

Bucky rides it out until he’s left with beads of sweat misting his hairline, panting with the rise and fall of his chest. Taking his time, licking his lips before seemingly becoming sheepish of how easily he’d just fallen apart. No warning; It’s been so long since he’s had another sexual partner to experience these things within a positive environment.

Your hips only stop when he’s well and done, knowing that most guys half the time are one-and-done. “That… That felt really good, m’sorry, it’s– it’s different. With, y’know, someone else… Versus alone…” Bucky manages awkwardly, and you simply draw him in for a lingering kiss. 

“I understand,” You murmur comfortingly against his lips. “You can clean up in the bathroom; I don’t have anything in your size for underwear, unfortunately, but I can find a pair of flannel bottoms that might fit…” “What about you?” Bucky asks, raising a brow. “Me?” “You.. You didn’t get to… Y’know.”

It’s oddly endearing how he worries about the fact that you weren’t able to get off the way he had. “What, we’re afraid to use adult language now?” You tease, and Bucky rolls his eyes. “M’bein’ serious. I want you to feel good…” Bucky says, rubbing your thighs soothingly. “I can get it up again if you give me a minute.” He adds, and for a moment you’re confused before placing the answer upon a super soldier refractory period.

“You’d be comfortable with that..?” You ask with a curious tilt, and Bucky bites his lips together; you can see the lingering daze in his eyes from the post-orgasm haze. “No,” he answers almost nervously. “I… Tonight has been a lot already. I don’t think I want to go there yet…” And you expect it to end there, but: “I have something else in mind, though.”

“Oh, do you now…?” you muse, curious. “Have you ever heard of mutual masturbation…?”

You’re both sat facing one another on the couch; One of your legs tucked under your body and pants long abandoned to the floor leaving you in nothing but your underwear. You’d felt far less reluctance than Bucky had when it came to stripping down; The layers shed easily as your anticipation festered more and more to the surface. 

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited. You’ve known Bucky for a while now, and let’s not lie to yourself - He’s a good-looking man who can do things with a single look. The ‘Barnes Charm’ he was so popular for when he was young was still there; Showing itself in small flickers of moments from time to time. The only instances in acting on it on your behalf were in the comfort of your bedroom, alone in the sheets. No one’s business but yours. 

But now you’re there with him and no one else. No one to disturb your private moment.

Touch was something that was hard for Bucky - he’d expressed that to you when he stammered over what he’d been asking of you. That he’d rather watch one another right then.

Bucky had no problem drinking you in, either. His eyes were fixed on every movement you made - when you’d peeled your shirt off his eyes followed the expanse of glowing skin and studied it all. Every curve and slope of your body; There was no question of how enamored he was with you. It was the first time in a long time you’d felt truly seen. Someone who wasn’t just trying to get into your pants but found you breathtaking.

It was flattering; You could feel the heat in your cheeks and the way it flustered you to be looked at in awe. There was something about Bucky that made you feel perfect. He was a man that was genuine in everything he did; Not much of a people-pleaser if he doesn’t have to be. Arguably a little stubborn, actually. You knew nothing about the way he looked at you was feigned.

He chews his lip as his eyes study you. Leaned more forward from where he’s sat sideways on his half of the couch. Left hand clutching the back of the couch cushion, Bucky had that familiar bulge in his jeans (which were now unbuttoned and peeled open to show off his navy blue briefs). 

“You look so perfect, doll…” Bucky murmurs lovingly after a moment, and your heart melts in your chest.

The words felt too intimate for you to accept easily, but you didn’t want to reject the compliment either. So rather than reply verbally, you leaned back into the cushion propped up behind you and drew your right leg up; Pressed into the back of the couch. Your right leg dangles off the side of the couch and leaving you exposed to Bucky. A welcome invitation if he decides to change his mind and wants to touch you. 

Bucky breath hitches; shuddering out a slow exhale through his nose. His gaze is hungry, his hand thoughtlessly moving to his own groin to palm the returning erection.

“I’ll love you right, one of these days, sugar.” Bucky promises with a lick of his lips. “This is just fine for tonight, Bucky,” You reassure him, and his gaze racks up to your face. “Thank you again for understanding,” And the softness in his hungry eyes sends a cold desire to your core - something more intimate about that look than the one threatening to eat you whole. “Anything for you.” You tell him, meaning every word.

With that, you make a deliberate show of teasing your fingers down your chest and tummy before slinking between your legs. 

“Aww, that’s it, sugar,” Bucky hums fondly with a breathy chuckle. “Eager little thing, gonna put on a pretty show for me..?”

“Only if you promise to do the same; This is just as much for me as it is for you,” You tease affectionately, mood defiled when you trace your hole with your middle and ring finger. The pads of your fingers are cold on sensitive skin, leaving you to shiver and sigh out an airy moan.

“M’not in nearly as a rush as you are, sweetheart.” Bucky hums, and you catch the way his hand slides down to palm at his cock through his underwear. “So excited to be on display, are we?” “Just for you,” you exhale, preening at the way he looks at you while experimentally dipping the tips of your fingers into your wet and wanting hole.

“Thank God, might have to wring someone by the neck if I gotta share a sight as sweet as this...” The tone is playful and joking, but there are traces of genuine possessiveness in Bucky’s voice. The idea alone is enough to have you showing off; gathering the wetness and making a deliberate show of smearing it over glistening skin. Bucky licks his lips with a look as though he wants to eat you alive. 

Atleast it’ll give him something to look forward to for when you both do get to the point you can be physically comfortable with intimacy. You can have more than enough fun with this. 

“Mother, mary, n’ joseph…” Bucky drawls; that Brooklyn accent of his coming through thick with the rumble of his words. He relaxes back into the couch while you continue the steady stroke of teasing yourself, playing with your clit and leaving your cunt throbbing. Bucky properly slides his jeans down his thighs and bunches his briefs along with them.

The evidence of his previous orgasm smeared in his soiled briefs, his cock thick and bobbing at the cool air. Bucky hisses through his teeth before spitting into his hand and stroking himself off languidly. 

“Don’t stop, sweetheart. Keep touchin’ yourself for me, I wanna see how you like it…” the words were hummed low, squeaking a moan out of you with just the way he spoke to you alone. “Aww, did you like that, baby? Like the way I talk to you..?”

You bite your lip, swallowing back the noises and answering Bucky’s question in a profuse nod. Fingers still insistently tracing yourself to that sweet spot, you could feel the slow knot building in the pit of your tummy.

“Ah, ah, ah… If m’gonna talk, I wanna hear those sweet noises, babydoll. Sing for me,” Bucky cooes with a breathy chuckle, still fucking his fist on the length of his cock. Pre-come beading at the slit and making the tip glisten with the signs of his arousal.

“Oh, Bucky,” You wantonly mewl out, surprising yourself with how helpless you sound. Trailing your slick fingers down to press the tip of your middle finger into your weeping cunt. Experimentally pressing in, having been pent up for what felt likes ages and aching for relief.

“That’s it, baby,” Bucky’s hand begins to speed up over his aching cock; His thickness jerking in his palm whenever you make a particularly sweet noise. “Show me how you stuff that needy cunt; I wanna see how you - fuck - take care of yourself…”

You moan for Bucky; needy and high and airy. It just feeds into his own arousal as he jerks off across from you. His own groans deep and rough - Piercing gaze keeping you pinned to the couch. Unable to look away from the way Bucky’s gaze bore into you.

His eyes watch you expectantly; Waiting for you to do what he’s asked. You oblige.

Your fingers press knuckle-deep into your cunt; Experimentally thrusting into your channel and leaving your back to arch slightly off the arm of the couch.

“Oh,” you mewl out, fingers driving into your hole, stretching your tightness and leaving your arousal to spill out. 

Bucky jerks his thick cock, hand sliding easily and the ministration made easier by the pre-come that spills over his fist. He shifts his hips, licking his lips and grinning at the way you fuck yourself open.

“Look at you, such a pretty baby,” Bucky breathes low between pants for air. “If I didn’t know any better I’d have thought you – mmh, god - were waitin’ for this. So eager to get that hole wet…”

The way Bucky talks to you makes your chest flutter. Your face feels hot, gasping as it drives the way you fuck your hole. Watching the up-stroke on Bucky’s cock - imagining the length sliding home into you and whimpering at the thought. Your eyes screw shut, the room filled with the slick sounds of your fingers in your hole.

“Oh no, babydoll, open those pretty eyes. I want you to watch me,” Bucky demands, and your eyes open on command. “Yeah, that’s it… Good baby, see this?” Bucky stops the stroking of his dick to let his fingers wrap around the girth and give a little tap of the tip to his thigh. Showing off the girth and his thick balls.

“Yeah, yeah this is all for you, honey. M’so hard for you, all for you…” The rumble of his voice was soothing as it was arousing.

“Bu-Bucky,” you squeak past trembling lips. Thighs softly quaking — Bucky’s words could get you off alone. Who knew he was such a filthy talker?

“I’m right here, sugar. ‘S okay, make yourself feel good. Don’t gotta hold back for nothin’, show me, pretty thing. I wanna see it all…” It’s permission if you’ve ever heard it, and suddenly at that moment, you realize how dependent Bucky’s say was over your building orgasm. As if your body knew it was waiting on his approval before you could let yourself come undone. 

Your legs draw up to clench your thighs – Stopping yourself when you remember Bucky’s eyes are still fixed upon your flushed body. Watching the hypnotizing display of the quick work you made fingering your needy cunt while he relished int he display. Stroking his cock languidly before building up a pace that matched your own; Wanting to follow your arousal with you. 

Just because you both weren’t touching doesn’t mean he couldn’t work with you.

It doesn’t take much; Not that it surprises you. You’d been pent up from the previous grinding into one another; hot and bothered by kisses that gave you a hint of what more could be like. 

While your one hand is busy playing with your nub, your free hand smooths up to ruck up your shirt. Bucky’s dilated eyes light up even more when your hand moves under your top; Rolling a nipple between your fingers and drawing even more whorish noise from your swollen lips.

Bucky downright growls, hips arching subtly off the couch as he fucks up into his fist.

“Fuck, you like to play with your nipples, baby? Aww, bet you’re so sensitive… Mm, fuck, yea… M’gonna love gettin’ my hands on you when we’re ready. Gonna learn every nook n’ cranny of you; Wanna worship that pretty body of yours.”

He keeps talking like that; each word straight to your aching core and leaving you soaked. Bucky picks up on it in the way you get louder — noisier.

“You like that? Of course you do — who knew you were so fuckin’ filthy, sugar? Aw, m’gonna come, baby,” Bucky’s voice even until it begins to find a sense of urgency towards the end. A sharp breath from him, both of your hands moving while you watch one another. Pleasuring yourselves and being your most intimate selves; On display for one another.

Your jaw is slack, gasping and moaning out pitiful squeaks while you touch yourself. Bucky’s hand moves smoothly over his arousal, the sound of skin on skin as he jerks himself off.

“Oh, oh fuck, please, I-I’m gonna come, Bucky,” you cry out, and Bucky thumbs at the tip of his cock; wrist twisting towards the head. 

“Come for me, baby. C-Cream all over your pretty fingers — come for me, come for me,” Bucky’s words drive you over the edge.

Your walls flutter emptily; begging to be filled as you come undone under your fingers. It’s cloud nine, riding out your high on your familiar fingers. Thighs trembling and soaked with your wetness, hips canting up into nothing as you finish on your fingers. Gasping and squealing out until you’re reduced to pathetic whimpers.

Bucky watches you all the while. Fucking his fist and growling out through his bared teeth when you come. Reaching his own orgasm and painting his fist in thick stripes of creamy white that you want to lick clean. He pants, face flushed as his cock spills his heavy load. Staining the denim of his jeans and leaving a mess (though he’s careful of the couch). 

You both slump into the couch, still facing one another when the high has passed. Panting for air, the smell of sex and sweat heavy in the air. You’re the one to break the quiet with an airy giggle, which Bucky grinds widely in response to.

“Are you alright, honey..?” Bucky asks curiously, his own voice hoarse and quiet. “Perfect. How’s about a shower…? You’ve already seen me from the stomach down, I’ve already seen your dick. That’s practically all we have. Nothing to hide,” you offer with a roughness to your own voice, swallowing thickly. You smile, still lingering in the soft air of the post-orgasmic haze.

“Sounds perfect, baby. I’ll go get the shower runnin’, okay?” Bucky offers, tucking his mess back into his underwear (he won’t be wearing them much longer anyways). Scooting forward, he uses his clean hand to cup the back of your head and press a gentle kiss to your temple. 

You nod with a soft, ‘mhm’. Enjoying the settling moment's peace and serenity despite the cooling wetness coating your thighs. Moving will be awful but it was well worth it.

Bucky certainly leaves an impression. Kicking off the evening with flowers and a ride to the art museum, strolling the halls lovingly with him while partaking in art, only to come back to your apartment and masturbate together. Bucky might be more full of surprises than you thought. You couldn’t be more excited.

[algea]

Ghoul School

prompt: you, Lucky, Phoebe, Trevor, and Lars go to investigate a spirit infested school, but ends badly for you.

Ummm basically enemies to lovers?? idrk tbh LOL

warnings: idk scary stuff? cussing! sexual tension! um you smoke 1 cigarette and thats it. GORE!!!!!!!

a/n: I’ve been thinking of this since I saw the movie…

*THIS IS A SUPER LONG STORY!!!*

“A school? Are you serious, Lars?” You mutter, running a hand down your face and sighing.

“I wish. What’s your grudge against a school anyway?” Lars said, cocking an eyebrow at you as he turned to look at you.

“Well I don’t know, maybe it’s the fact that kids still go there. It makes me sick how they have to experience that while being in an environment where it’s supposed to be safe and welcoming.” You explain, tapping your fingers nervously on your desk. Behind you, Lars sighed,

“Well that’s why we’re going innit? So stop worrying about it so much.” You snapped your head when heard the door open. In trudged a slime covered Trevor, Lucky, and Phoebe.

“Lars, I need your help with something!” Lucky called. Lars stood and strode to her, his eyes lingered on you for a little longer than they should’ve. Trevor had a proton pack on his back, which was slightly smoking from the interior.

"Piece of shit only fizzed when we tried to turn it on, know a way to fix it?" Trevor asked, gazing up at Lars. Lars' face was stone cold, probably because he had to deal with the dumb shit Trevor stirred up.

"First off, it's not a piece of shit. Second off, did you even try to figure it out?" Lars scoffed, eyebrows drawn together in a scowl.

"Give it to me, I'll see what I can do." He sighed, obviously not wanting to deal with him anymore. Trevor basically shoved the proton pack into Lars’ arms, which didn't waiver when he received it. Hot. You thought. Lars trudged to his station and set the proton pack down. He removed the protective covering, and coughed when smoke blasted in his face. You snickered, which earned an unimpressed glare from him. Lucky appeared beside you, ready to talk about what else you've come up with her to test.

"What is it?" She asked, tinkering with the item on the desk.

"You know how there's buckshot for a shotgun? I've figured out how to compress protons into little pellets and create a buckshot-type stream." You explained, showing her how it would work on a sheet of paper. You heard Lars muttering about something, though you brushed it off. You handed Lucky a few pellets, which contained about 12 rounds of buckshot each. She eagerly shot off into the test room, excited to try it out. With nothing else to do, you shuffled behind Lars, peering over his shoulder to watch his hands work efficiently. Lars really didn't know you were there, truly he didn't. So when he turned around to go get something from his desk, he jumped back.

"Good Christ you scared the shit out of me!" Lars exclaimed, putting a hand on his chest and letting out a big sigh. He shoved his glasses back up his face and ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry! I just wanted to watch you work..." You trailed off, staring at the ground in embarrassment.

"Well maybe next time maybe fucking keep to yourself." He snapped, brushing past you, his hand grazing yours. You just stood there, hands clenched and cheeks burning in embarrassment. Phoebe stood next to you, putting a hand on your arm and whispering,

"It's ok, really, he doesn't mean it."

You couldn't help the tear that slithered down your cheek. Blinking away the rest of the tears, you muttered an 'excuse me' and walked outside of the lab. Taking a left, you headed through the doors to the cool breeze outside. Stuffing your hand in you pocket, your hand found purchase on the cig case you had. Sliding one out of it and grabbing your lighter, you lit the cig up and shoved the lighter back into your left pocket. You sat against the wall and pulled your knees to your chest. Hearing the doors open, you see Trevor walk out. He spots you and slides down the wall, sitting next to you.

"It's not your fault. It really isn't." Trevor offered, watching you let out a sigh, smoke going with it. You laugh, dragging a hand down your face.

"Listen, don't ever fall in love, man. Shit sucks." You sighed, resting your head against the cool brick. Trevor started to say something but the rest of the three burst through the doors. Lars was wearing his red jacket, walking towards the car. Lucky was carrying yours in her arm, right on the heels of Lars. He spotted you and Trevor sitting down against the wall. Trevor hopped up, offering you a kind hand. You took it, cigarette still in hand.

"Put that shit out." Lars commanded, crossing his arms. You glared at him before taking a long drag and blowing the smoke out. You dropped the rest on the ground, twisting your foot against it which successfully put it out.

"Happy?" You huffed, throwing your arms out in surrender. He just stared at you before pushing past you to get to the car. 'Bitch' You mutter under your breath. God he’s insufferable. Following them, you hopped into the passage seat. Lucky handed you your red jacket, which you put on before you buckled up. You zipped it up all the way burying your face in the collar. Lars watched you from his peripheral, drumming his fingers on the wheel.

“Are gonna stare or drive the goddamn car?” You snapped, turning to gaze at him. His hand tightened on the wheel and started to drive.

To say that Lars was a good driver was a pretty big overstatement. You were even lucky you made it to the school alive, much less in once piece.

“You are never ever driving again, Lars.” You said, stumbling out of the car as a wave of nausea hits you.

“Stuff it.” He replied, pushing up his broken glasses. You turned your gaze to the school, which stood ominously in the distance. You shivered, which didn’t go unnoticed by Lars. He took a small step closer to you, his hand ghosting the small of your back. You jumped slightly at his feather touch, but relished it. Lars flicked on your switch, making your proton pack hum with the familiar ‘whirring’ sound. You walked to the front steps, pushing open the two massive double wooden doors. You were blasted by a cold air, which you stumbled back from.

“S-shit.” You muttered, hands shaking ever so slightly. You reached for your flashlight, but froze when you saw a shadow figure dart through the darkness.

“Lars.” You whispered, a lump forming in your throat. Lars was off busy helping the others get their packs on, which meant you were the only one at the front. You felt something tugging you forward. You stumbled back into the school following the tugging sensation to a room downstairs.

Lars looked up, about to ask you something, when he noticed you were gone.

“Where the bloody hell did Y/N go?” He asked, looking around. His question was answered when he heard your frantic screams coming from inside of the building. They all looked at each other, then bolted to the building.

The building was absolutely freezing. That you were certain of. The frigid temperature fucked a little with your head, at least that’s what you can conclude. You found that being able to see in the dark was not your forte, which caused you to fall down a flight of stairs.

“OH FUCKING SHIT—!” You screech, tumbling down the stairs. You landed with your head cracking against the cold floor. Groaning, you tried to lift your head, but you felt like you were spinning like a top. You eventually stood, swaying slightly after. You blinked a few times, holding your head in your hands. In the corner of your eye, you could see another shadow figure. It was tall, tall enough to reach the ceiling. It started to approach you, but you let out a scream, starting to run back up the stairs. You felt a push, then you tumbled back down the stairs, smashing your head into the pavement again. You landed on your knee, successfully snapping the bone in your shin. You let out another bloodcurdling scream, spitting out blood in the process.

You felt lightheaded as blood spilled from your shin and lips, dribbling down your chin and neck. You were in too much pain to cry as you crumpled to the floor again. You heard all three of them yelling your name, but you couldn’t yell back. Instead, you pulled yourself across the floor, leaving a long streak of blood as you went. With as much effort as you could muster, you pulled yourself to the steps. It took everything for you to scream,

“LARS!!!”

Footsteps could be heard, which sounded like heavy boots clomping towards you. You clawed at the steps, trying to grip anything that you could to pull yourself up. The blond man appeared in the doorway, shining a flashlight down the stairwell. Lars hair was tousled, eyes wide. You make out how he was panting, as well as a horrified look painted across his face.

“oh my god.” Was all he said. He rushed down the stairwell to get you. You couldn’t make out much of anything, you kept fading in and out of consciousness. His hands, his strong and elegant hands held your face as he tried to keep you awake. Your breaths became labored again as you felt extreme pain rippling through your limbs. You let out another scream, which was muffled by Lars chest as he picked you up and started to rush you outside. One of his hands found purchase in your hair, gently stroking it with his thumb as he ran to the car.

Lars felt like it took years to make it to the hospital. His red jacket was drenched in your blood, but he couldn’t care less about what he looked like as he rushed you into the ER. Immediately after, you were rushed into a room, where you would reside for God knows how long. Lars sat next to Lucky, his face grim. He didn’t care how long he had to wait to see you again, just as long as he could see you. Lars stayed there all night, into the morning to be able to see you. When they told him that he could see you, he ran to your room as fast as he could. There you laid, eyes closed, face peaceful. When you heard the footsteps, you opened your eyes and found the blond man standing in your doorway.

“Bloody hell, I thought I’d never see you again.” Lars breathed as he approached your right side. Your hand lay limp on the top of the bedsheet. He brought up a chair and sat, taking your hand and lacing his fingers with yours.

“I was so scared that you were going to die, I couldn’t bear to see it.” He further explained. You smiled weakly and croaked,

“Are you being nice right now? That’s so unlike you Lars.”

Before you said anything else, Lars pressed a kiss to your lips. It wasn’t your ideal first kiss with him, but you relished the feeling.

“I didn’t save you because I thought it was the good thing to do, I saved you because I love you.” Lars whispered, his nose brushing yours.

“God I love you too, Lars.” You whispered back.

[simp4wom3n]

Celebrity Crush

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Reader

Requested: Yes/No ~ request @meimei-a

Summary: Y/N has been simping over Jenna for years. What happens when Y/N finally gets noticed by her celebrity crush. (Y/F/M = your favourite movie) ~ Word Count: 2,190 ~ Warnings: swearing

A/N: Hello everyone!! Idk why these keep getting longer and longer but hopefully you guys still like them. Obviously because they are longer they take longer to write but my schedule has loosened so I have more time to write so hopefully the next one will be finished soon <3

Part 1 ~ Part 2

“And here to promote her new movie, the newest star of Hollywood, the amazing, and beautiful, Y/N L/N everybody!!” Jimmy announces with his iconic smile plastered on his face, his hand gesturing towards you as you walk out. Dressed in an extravagant pantsuit and heels, you wave to the audience as you make your way towards your chair. You greet Jimmy as you sit down, taking a moment to take in your first late night show, sat across from Jimmy Fallon, in-front of a large audience, cameras covering you on all angles. Sure you had done press before but this was something else.

Whilst you are undeniably nervous, the excitement of another ‘I made it’ moment overshadows any of your anxiety as you finally face Jimmy as the cheers of the audience diminish. “Welcome Y/N it’s amazing to finally have you on the show. How are you feeling?” he starts with a warm smile, instantly calming your remaining nerves. “Thank you so much for having me. This is definitely a dream of mine so a little nervous.” you explain, earning a nod from Jimmy. “I’m used to being in the audience so it’s still sinking in” you add, gesturing and glancing towards the audience, still unable to grasp the fact that your here.

“Well you have definitely earned it, I mean your incredible.” he commented, earning a chorus of cheers from the audience. A tight lipped smile of appreciation crosses your face as you reply, “Thanks Jimmy thats mean a lot”. “Now… your new movie Y/F/M, am I right in saying its your first lead role in a blockbuster film?” “Yes it is” you reply with a nod. “Now I know they are really strict on what you can say but is there ANYTHING you can tell us.” he asks with genuine curiosity in his eyes.

Despite wanting to go on and on about the movie and reveal every little detail you can, your director says otherwise meaning you can’t say a thing. “I hate to break your heart Jimmy but my lips are glued shut. All I can say is I’m really proud of it” you answer solemnly, giving both Jimmy and the audience a small smile of apology. “It’s annoyingly ironic. Like I have to sell a movie without actually talking about it.” The solemn look on Jimmy’s face is quickly replaced with one of pure elation as he leans back in his chair, letting out his signature laugh, instantly bringing a smile to your face. 

He took a minute to settle down before he moved on, “I had a feeling this would happen so I prepared a little game for you” he started with a mischievous look on his face. You matched his energy, playfully glaring at him, “Ok…” you replied with concern earning a chuckle from the audience. “So I had my team go through your twitter and try to find any common topics you talk about” At the mention of your twitter account you could feel your cheeks warm as you realise where he is going with this.

“Oh god…”. Despite having a decent following, you essentially used your twitter as a dumping ground for all of your opinions on films, actors, food, basically everything. Which also meant you tweeted a lot, and I mean a lot, about your celebrity crush. The breathtaking Jenna Ortega. You practically worshipped her. Your initial film reviews of her performances soon turned into you straight up thirsting over her, so much so you had been asked about it before in previous interviews. It was impossible to deny so you would always openly admit your crush, quite passionately if you might add.

“And it would appear there is one VERY prominent subject” he continued, attempting to hold back a chuckle after seeing the mix of concern and acceptance on your face. “Mhm” you hum as you rest your head on your hand, waiting for him to just say it. “Jenna Ortega”. There it was. You closed your eyes attempting to compose yourself as a smile grew on your face just at the mention of her. “So I thought we could take a look at a few of the more recent ones and you could explain them to us all”, he finishes with a look of satisfaction, knowing he had struck gold. “Really trying to expose me aren’t you Jimmy.”, you chuckle as you straighten your posture and face the screen, “Your lucky I’m passionate about this.” you add causing Jimmy and the audience to laugh.

“Ok first one”. A screenshot of a tweet you posted in January 2022, the day that ‘The Fallout’ premiered for streaming, came up on the screen. It read ‘Just watched ‘The Fallout’ for the first time. Jenna Ortega everybody🧎🧎🧎’. You chuckled as you listened to Jimmy read it out to the audience. “I mean it’s pretty self explanatory” you start, reflecting back on that day. “I didn’t get the chance to see it beforehand so I had been waiting for it to come to a streaming service and when it did… OOO Jimmy you have no idea.” you explain whilst the audience bursts out laughing and you just shrug your shoulders. “What can I say. Not only was her performance Oscar worthy but DAMN she looked good doing it.” you fall back in you chair with a massive smile on your face whilst they all cheer and laugh around you. 

“Ok ok next one” Jimmy says through his laughter. A new screenshot of a tweet from a week or so later, right after you had seen ‘Scream 5’, appears on the screen reading, “I’m not one for horror, but did I just binge the entirety of the Scream saga to see ‘Scream 5’ with Jenna Ortega? Absolutely. P.S it was so worth it”, Jimmy read it out as you and the audience laughed whilst your hand hid your massive smile. “Lets just say I would do anything to be able to watch her.” you say with a smirk on your face as you try to suppress your giggle. “I actually really don’t like horror that much. I hate jump-scares with a passion. I was also praying the entire time that Jenna’s character didn’t die. That was basically all I cared about.”

“Ok final ones” Jimmy states as he pulls up a tweet from only a few weeks ago from after you binged ‘Wednesday’ is one sitting. “Guys someone explain to me how Jenna played a literal psycho but was still incredibly attractive AND girlfriend material.” Jimmy read as he also pulled up another one from a few days ago, ”These bts photos from Wednesday… Someone take them away from me I need this girl as my girlfriend ASAP” you chuckle as he finishes reading them out. “I mean look I think we can all relate to a show being that much more enjoyable because an actor you love is it in right?” you question, looking at the audience who respond with nods and cheers “Right so when I saw that Jenna was playing Wednesday I legitimately counted down the days until it aired and I watched the entire show in one sitting” you finish with a laugh. “That first tweet was right after I finished it and the second one… I mean guys have you seen those photos how could I not be in love”

Meanwhile…

The Tonight Show was a show that Jenna frequently watched. She had been checking Instagram to see who would be appearing on the show when she stumbled across you. She noticed someone who she instantly found attractive, and their name sounded familiar although she wasn’t sure where from. ‘Y/N L/N…. where do I know you from’ she thought as she googled your name in an attempt to connect the dots. Browsing through your movies and tv shows, nothing seemed to trigger any realisation despite having seen some of them. ‘Weird’

Jenna set her phone aside, sat down on the couch, and took out her TV remote, turning it on and switching the station to start the show. Turning it on just as Jimmy announces you, she watches you walk out and her eyes widen slightly as her cheeks warm ever so slightly. You were gorgeous. She sat there speechless as she watched you smile and wave to the crowd, and she couldn’t help but smile with you as you sat in your chair.

If she was being completely honest with herself, she was entirely distracted by your beauty and hadn’t been listening to a majority of what was said, that was until she noticed you glaring at Jimmy. Snapping out of her trance, she listens to Jimmy explain the ‘game’ he wanted to play with you, something about looking through your twitter. ‘Wait have I seen her on twitter?’ Jenna briefly thought as he continued explaining. Her eyes shot open as she unexpectedly heard her name. ‘Wait what’, her ears immediately perking up, her attention now entirely on Jimmy.

As soon as the first tweet came on screen, Jenna’s mouth dropped open as she was suddenly hit with the realisation of where she had seen you before. She wasn’t one to frequent twitter, but whenever she did she would always notice a large amount of tags and tweets relating to you. The ones she had seen were just her being tagged in the comments of your tweets but she thought nothing of it and just presumed it was the fans messing around. She was obviously mistaken.

As you continued talking about your tweets and your love for her so openly on live tv, her cheeks burned as she sat there on her couch in pure disbelief. “How could I not be in love” is what you had said. That was all she needed to hear before she decided to binge almost all of your previous interviews, and to her surprise, and delight, you mentioned her in almost every one.

‘Holy shit’ she whispered as you wrapped up talking with Jimmy, saying your goodbyes and promoting your movie one last time. As she watched you stand she thought ‘fuck it’ as she reached for her phone, immediately opening instagram and going to her DMs.

Back at the studio…

You had just left the stage and were taking a moment to relax and think about how everything had gone. ‘I really just said that on live TV’ you thought to yourself as you chuckled and headed back to your dressing room to get changed and head home. The first thing you did was change out of your outfit because, despite how beautiful it makes you feel, your one and only real love—aside from Jenna—is an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. Once you had changed you grabbed your phone off the table and took a glance at your notifications, the number of which multiplied significantly since before the show. ‘Oh wow ok’ you mumbled as you scrolled through them seeing if there were any of significance.

You were about to put your phone down before a DM notification caught your eye, your breath hitching as you read the name. ‘Holy shit no way’. It was from fucking Jenna Ortega. ‘What the actual fuck… oh my god ok’. Deciding to wait until you got home to answer it, so you don’t seem too unbearably desperate, you grabbed your things and walked briskly to your car. As you drive along the quiet streets late at night, your mind is racing as all you can think about is her. ‘Oh my god does that mean she watched the interview?’ ‘I can’t believe she actually knows who I am’ ‘How am I going to respond to this oh god’. 

When you finally arrived at your apartment, you hurriedly got out of the car and made it to your floor before you almost crashed through the door with excitement. Not bothering to do anything else, you instantly collapse onto your couch and open you instagram, saying ‘Fuck it’ and opening the DM. “Hey cutie” it started, instantly making you blush. “I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to reach out to you. I would love to get to know you better so I was wondering whether you wanted to maybe get dinner with me sometime this week?? Absolutely no pressure but I would love to meet you in person :)” You sat there speechless for a moment. Jenna Ortega, your celebrity crush, wants to go out with you?!? ‘This is too good to be true’ you thought as your fingers hovered over the keyboard. You eventually decided to just go for it, “Are you asking me out on a date?? ;)” you typed quickly and sent before you could start overthinking it. 

You were shocked when it was read in just a few seconds, and you waited eagerly for her reply “How could I not ask such a beautiful girl on a date <3”. Here you were, on what you thought would be a regular day of press, instead being asked to go on a date by your celebrity crush. This was an ‘I made it’ moment on a completely different scale.

Part 2

[likedovesinthewindd]

Hii I little angsty request but could you do one where reader comforts hobie after his Canon event?

Somthing where reader keeps rambling because she doesnt know how else to fill the silence and they end up having the- "do you want me to shut up" "No" "do you want me to leave?" "...no"- conversation

ok so in the movie itself it doesn't really go into detail ab what hobie's canon event is exactly, and a lot of theories talk about it being him killing a police captain. then there's also the shot that shows him throwing away his suit. in the comics he kills president osborne and reveals his identity so that could also be it but idk!! maybe i didn't catch it but i left it as ambiguous so that you could kinda go with whatever.

hobie brown x fem! reader

warning: mentions of death, ingury

wc: ±1400

a/n: this was slow-cooking in my damn drafts but i finally got it done.

The pelts of rain that fall against your bedroom door in their uncoordinated rhythm does little to lull you back to sleep as you thrash around in the sheets, your mind torturing you with the recurring thoughts of 'what if?'

What if he got hurt? What if he's lying somewhere, bleeding out and slipping right through your fingers? What if he was already dead, killed in cold blood by one of the many people against him and the message he so fearlessly and shamelessly carries with him.

You turn around in bed once again, willing the thoughts away as you try to focus on something less pessimistic.

You haven't heard from Hobie in days, haven't seen him even longer ago. It wasn't uncommon for him to dissappear like this—you almost expected it from him considering what he did—but it's never been this long before. The longest he's been gone was four days. It's been ten today.

You knew he could take care of himself, and you knew he could protect himself well. Hell, you've both heard and seen what happened to the people that underestimated him. But you still worried, it was in your nature to worry about him every time he left you. He knew this, and he'd do his best to reassure you in his own laid-back, almost cocky way.

"You worry too much, love. 'll be back before you knowit, yeah?" was what he'd always say, leaving you with a kiss to the forehead. You couldn't exactly remember what he said when he left days ago.

At that, your mind whirred back to life, the what if's and gruesome scenarios plaguing you for the umpteenth time this day alone. Before these thoughts could once again pull you into a depreciating hole of anxiety and stress, you shot out of bed, the cold air at once causing goosebumps along the expanse of your arms

You had to do something; move around, clean your room, watch TV, fold laundry, anything to get your mind off of things, even if only for a little while. You decided to make your way to the kitchen, make yourself something to eat, considering you've been too on edge to stomach anything truly filling.

The soothing voice of Billie Holiday filled the kitchen from the old record player, as you absent-mindedly stirred at the pot of pasta, the pan next to it simmering with sauce. Your reverie was broken by the sound of your bedroom window being slid open, followed by the thud of boots and a loud sigh.

Your heart sunk down to the soles of your feet, as you quietly yet excitedly made your way to your bedroom. There he stood, pulling at his mask, the rest of him soaked from the heavy downpour. He pulled the mask from his face, and once his eyes met yours, you knew something was wrong.

You made your way over to him, your socked feet trying to avoid the small puddle his boots had made as you took his cold hands in yours. He took a second to look down at where your hands connected, and released another tired sigh. "Bee?" you asked, trying to get him to look at you. He looked up at you with sullen eyes.

"Are you hungry?" you asked softly. You didn't ask him where he was, or what he was doing. He wasn't going to give you a real answer anyway. Not right now, at least. You didn't pry at that part of his life, although the various news reports and newspaper articles kept you more than informed most of the time. That was if they weren't being filtered through by the regime of the higher ups, them not very keen on telling the story how it really is. Much more interested in keeping their hands seemingly clean, and painting him as the bad guy; the wannabe hero trying to further worsen the state of the already near-apocalyptic nation.

He only nodded at you question, and you nodded along with him, already seeing that it was going to be one of those nights; where he much rather preferred you did all the talking, while he mulled over whatever event had occurred.

"Go take a shower, I'll finish up the food," you said softly, leaving him and returning to the kitchen. After a while he emerged from the bedroom, changed into dry clothes as he made his way to the kitchen table. He sat by the island quietly, watching you cook and listening to you as you talked about what you'd been up to. He didn't miss the small "I missed you, bee. You had me worried," thrown in.

It wasn't long till the both of you sat in your small living room after finishing your food. You could see he wasn't really hungry, but he ate just to give you some peace of mind. The sound of Billie Holiday was by now traded for Amy Winehouse, her beautifully gruff voice mixing perfectly with the sound of the rain that still pelted against the windows.

"—I knew she was only joking, but I was still scared as hell. You know how easily I get stressed out," you rambled on about whatever stupid story you could think of, anything to fill the deafening silence between the two of you. You, by now, were on your third story already, and you could feel how irritating you probably were. You were trying to get him to react, to snicker, laugh, make one of his sarcastic remarks, anything to tell you he was alright. You could see he wasn't alright, though.

He looked so tired, like something was eating at him, and it killed you to see him like this. It was obvious that whatever had happened was not just one of those nights, but something much more serious.

You followed his line of sight, where he had been staring at the coffee table with a blank stare, eyes trained on the cover of a newspaper you had bought.

"Do you want me to shut up?" you asked quietly, at your wits end. He finally looked at you, shaking his head slowly. "No," he added, voice gruff and deep from no use. You nodded, moving closer to him and placing your hand on his leg, giving it a light squeeze.

"I decided to buy one today, when I passed the convenience store 'round the corner from work," you started, "yeah...haven't read one in ages. There's actually an article about you in there, don't know how they managed to get that printed," you laughed weakly. "They called you 'Spiderpunk', I know how much you hate that," you added quietly, your resolve crumbling when the only thing you got out of him was a scoff. Usually he'd go on a tangent about how much he hated the term, but tonight he was so quiet, so sullen it actually unnerved you.

"I'm here if you want to talk, you know that, right?" you asked, and he gave you a nod. "Perhaps not right now, but when you're ready, I'll be here. I'll always be here. Even if we end up never talking about it, it's fine." For a moment his face faltered, looking as though he desperately wanted to talk to you about whatever happened, but the words got stuck in his throat, making him swallow dryly.

"D'you want me to leave? Give you some space?" you asked again, and when his eyes met yours, you could see every hidden emotion in them, every unsaid word he so desperately wanted to utter to you. The sight made your heart clench. How badly you wanted to wrap your arms around him, make him forget, but if he wanted distance, it was what you'd give him.

Once again it was just the sound of Amy Winehouse and the downpour filling the small room, along with Hobie's deep and steady breaths against your collarbones.

"No, stay a bit," he said, and you nodded once again. You moved impossibly closer to him, finally wrapping your arms around his neck and engulfing him in an embrace. He accepted your affection, responding by wrapping his long arms around your waist and practically pulling you into his lap, placing his head on your shoulder and letting out another exhausted sigh.

He can only hold her, miss Winehouse sang.

[gettinshiggywithit]

ok so I saw your post abt wanting to write for pjo but you don't know what and you've only read the books so I figured I'd send a request or sum. now idk if you do headcannons cause I haven't followed you for long, but headcannons abt a relationship with percy? 🍓

🌊Dating Percy Jackson~ (HCs)🌊

Summary: what’s it like dating the son of poseidon and resident blue-enthusiast

Pairing: percy x gn!reader (i think I kept it pretty gender neutral!)

Genre: fluff

T/W: none

A/N: Hi nonny! I hope you like this! Thank you for the request and for getting me out of my writing slump! Pls lmk what you think of it if you feel like it and until next time ciao!

Warning! Not proof read🥹🙏apologies 🥹

I think its a given that percy is the epitome of boyfriend material

I mean the man literally gave up immortality for annabeth!

But this isnt about annabeth,this is about you!

So for the sake of this post let’s assume you both met the same way!

The moment percy saw you he was entranced!

It was a normal day of practice and he was out in the practice pavilion to try his hand at archery(this was when he was still unclaimed)

He was struggling to even hit the target when he turned his head to talk to his instructor from the apollo cabin,only to see you sparring with the camp’s best swordsman,luke castellan!

You were expertly dodging and blocking his advances and while luke seemed to be getting frustrated,you looked smug and excited almost. It was then that perch jackson developed a hugee crush on you

Over the next few days he made attempts to talk to and interact with you,he joined you at the campfire and during these little interactions was when he realised you weren’t just pretty,you had a personality as bright as the sun and your sense of humour was elite!

When he got claimed you helped him accept it and even though you were still unclaimed it really helped him. You listened to him when he needed a friend and helped him see the brighter side of things.

And over time even you seemed to fall for him, i mean what wasnt to love,he was funny,sweet,supportive; everything a girl could ask for!

So when you confessed to him during a sparring session after having just beaten him,he was both confused and overjoyed!

You helped him up and he confessed to feeling the same.and as you both got older,your bond grew stronger.sure there were little hiccups along the way but you always made it work.

Percy noticed everything about you, your little quirks, your little gestures; everything

He was the first to notice when you were feeling even a little bit down and he always had your favorite snacks on hand for when you needed cheering up!

He always took you down to the beach or near the river,exploring both in his little protective bubble was the coolest,most awesome thing you’d ever experienced and even though you felt scared at times,he’d hold you close and not let go until you were on dry land.

Making blue food together in the off season and spending time at his and his mum’s apartment was heavenly,especially your home didn’t exactly feel like a home in the first place.

Sally loved you! She always teased the two of you when you curled up on the couch to watch movies and was just happy her son found someone.

During quests he always had your back but also knew you were perfectly capable on your own,i mean you practically taught him how to sparr yourself!

Through the losses and the gains,the battles and the hardship,you stayed together and helped eachother grow.

You loved him with all your heart and he the same. He was loyal to fault and would never judge or criticize you,if he did it was merely constructive criticism,nothing to belittle you or make you feel insignificant.

He helped you through your moments of insecurity and made you feel whole,like you were worth his love and like you were perfect the way you were.

In conclusion,being in love with percy Jackson means, unlimited support and love and a companion for life🫶

All rights reserved © 2023 gettinshiggywithit. Please do not repost, modify or claim as yours. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!j

[normal-internet-user]

shaking at a frequency that could shatter glass I know I've been here not too long ago, but. please.

h—headcanons..,, maybe...?? f-for.

Peepaw/Dad!Leo with an adopted child!reader...,, please...,... i-i need some Dad fluff with this tortuga. this overgrown hard-shell melon. this- this. (gestures vaguely) y'get me?

he's so Dad shaped. he's so fond and just radiates safety and warmth and affection and ugghhhghhh i just KNOW he'd be the best dad EVER. nay, he IS the best dad. (pseudo) sibling Casey attests to it.

(⁠ ⁠ꈨຶ⁠ ⁠˙̫̮⁠ ⁠ꈨຶ⁠ ⁠) i think i'm actually going to lose my mind . the Clan as uncles/godparents/aunties. grandpa splinter. sweet brother Casey. it takes a village to raise a kid, they say.

do you see my vision here mate? as always, only if you want to ☜⁠ ⁠(⁠↼⁠_⁠↼⁠) & if you do? just .. go ham. if anything strikes you, PUT IT IN THERE. I NEED TO HEAR IT FROM OTHER PEOPLE TOO . (/lh)

This seems appropriate to celebrate me finishing the Rise movie (I am still emotionally unwell this is me coping) I shall grant you headcanons my dearest darling /p

PEEPAW LEO AS AN ADOPTIVE FATHER

....................................

Let me start this off by saying that this man-

This man is best dad.

He finds a lost child?

'Tis his child now.

You are his child now.

Casey?

He's ecstatic.

NEW SIBLING LES GO

Especially since you're younger than him,

(Not by much, maybe afew months)

Casey makes it his life mission to protect you at all costs.

His favorite thing to do is hold your hand and lead you around.

Leo is so so good at being a dad.

I mean look as CJ,

He's got this ok?

Feeling clingy?

He'll hold you until you want him to put you down.

Nightmares?

That's ok kiddo, come curl up next to Papa, he'll keep all those monsters away.

When you get older, you are not going anywhere without him, Casey, or anyone else.

It's not safe, and the same rule applies to CJ.

So you guys go on lots of scouting missions together.

You two may as well be twins, you never go anywhere without the other.

Sometimes, you and Casey will be sent to scout really last minute,

And Leo won't be notified until you two are gone.

Whenever this happens he gets super pissed off and worried because those are his kids,

He should be the one to give them clearence to leave,

Not some random officer who decided to send you two out.

If one of you ever comes back hurt,

God speed to whomever sent the two of you out.

Leo is mad.

Like, mad-mad.

So are April, Mikey, and Donnie.

Leo would literally fall apart if he lost you or Casey.

He swore to Cass that he'd protect Casey, and he promised himself he would keep you safe.

If he lost either of you he just might completely fall apart.

Leo's busy, he's running a resistance afterall,

So he can't keep eyes on you all the time.

That's why the Hamato's take turns.

Leo's in a meeting?

Let's meditate with Master Michelangelo.

Oh he's busy too?

Time to visit Uncle Tello's lab.

Can't find him?

Well where's Commander O'neil?

Can't find her either?

Welp, enjoy the meeting, cause you're stuck there now.

Play rock paper scissors or somethin idk.

If you're around before Splinter passes, he spends alot of time around you.

He's always wanted grandchildren, and he's going to cherish you,

Especially with the world in anarchy.

When you start losing people, it get's hard.

First it was Grandpa Splints,

Then it was Uncle Tello,

Then Auntie April...

Through it all Leo made sure you were ok.

You're just a kid, and you have to grow up in this hellscape?

You've never seen the blue sky, or normal rain,

And everyone you hold close is being ripped away.

That's not fair.

So he does everything he can to make sure you grow up safe and happy.

One of his favorite things to do was tell you and Casey stories of what the world used to be like.

Your favorite is when he describes the stars.

It sounds so amazingly beautiful, shimming lights like glitter sitting up in a blackish blue abyss.

Wow...

After the events of the movie, (you knew it was coming goddammit)

Your first request is to see the stars.

Which is pretty hard since New York is really bright like all the time.

So they took you and Casey to the docks where you would be able to see them best.

You looked up at the sky in absolute awe,

Papa's words would never do the stars justice.

After a minute, you broke down in tears.

It hurt, he promised to be the one to point out the constellations and his younger self doing it just wasn't the same.

Griefing is going to be a really big thing post movie.

In the future, you never really had the chance.

Everything happened so quickly and anytime wasted on griefing could have been a death sentence.

But now, you don't have to watch every corner, you don't have to wake up in fear you'll be alone.

So you grief.

You grief your family, and Casey does too.

Sure, technically they're right outside your room.

But it's not them.

They didn't raise you.

When Leo sends you and Casey back in time,

You took it much worse than Casey, who was focused on completeing the mission.

Sure, you wanted to stop the Kraang too,

But you missed your dad...

So when you find your family's past selves,

And Leo is being so...

Reckless,

You're angry.

Really angry.

Never in your life had your father acted this way, and Casey needlessly boosting his ego 30 seconds into knowing him wasn't helping.

Through out the movie, Casey needs to remind himself that this Leo isn't your Leo.

You have absolutely no trouble with that.

You come across as cold and angry, which worries your brother since you've never been like this before.

The others just assume you're always that way.

But you're not,

And acting like this makes you hate yourself.

You're grappling with the loss of your dad, and the fact that you might fail to do what you were sent here to in the first place.

Casey pulls you aside and gives you a talk.

He understands that your hurting,

He is too,

But this isn't about the two of you.

This is about saving the world and stopping the Kraang.

After that, you can hurt all you want.

That talk ended with you sobbing into Casey's shoulder, practically collapsing to the ground while you clinged to him and begged him not to leave you too.

Aight imma hit ya with the sandwich technique.

Fluff, angst, fluff.

Boom.

When you were a kid,

You had a habit of collecting anything shiny.

Old coins, jewelry, even just shiny rocks.

If it glimmered, you wanted it.

So whenever Leo had to leave the base, he always came back with something shiny for you to add to your hoarde.

He liked to compare you to a crow, and you asked what a crow was.

Right, raised in the apocolypse.

Sure there were plenty of birds around,

But they weren't.... normal.

So Leo explained what a crow was, and that they liked to collect shiny things.

You understood, but you wanted to know what one looked like,

So you went to Uncle Tello and asked if he could show you what a crow looks like.

He showed you, and immediatly you took to the comparison proudly.

You were like a crow!

Mikey liked to put on little shows for you and all the other children that lived in the base.

Making animals and such out of his ninpo.

Your favorite were the birds, the rabbits too.

But the best was the butterflies, which he also used to help you and Casey fall asleep.

They'd flutter around you room kinda like a nightlight.

I also like to imagine that when you and Casey start scouting, you get in trouble for fucking around.

Mostly making stupid bets for your shiny things.

Casey would collect shiny things just to make these bets.

Usually it was simple stuff, like who can throw a rock the farthest,

But even stuff like that could get both of you killed.

Neither of you really listened until one day,

You're making your bet like usual,

And the building you were scouting out wasn't as empty as you thought.

The two of you nearly fell to your deaths, luckily Casey managed to grapple the two of you to safety.

But after that, you had a major fear of heights, and Leo didn't let the two of you out of his sight for a while.

He made sure to scold the two of you when you returned that day,

Before hugging you and telling you how scared he was for a second.

Leo has no problem with you and Casey being included in meetings,

Honestly he prefers it.

If you two are gonna go running around scouting, you should know what's going on.

You'll have the occasional adult who thinks you and Casey are incompitent because of your age,

And that you shouldn't participate in meetings.

But Leo puts that to rest pretty quickly.

"If they can go out, and risk their lives on missions, they can attend the meetings." He'd say.

Leo loves you with his heart and soul.

If anything happened to you, he'd fall apart.

Sometimes he just needs you to have little sleepovers with him, that way he knows you're safe and sound.

He just wants to protect you.

You're his kid,

And he loves you

....................................

I wrote this while listening to anarchy by egg, and damn that song fits.

This one is LONG that's my bad, I got alittle carried away :^

[thebearer]

okay but lip (angst that turns sweet?) concept! so we agree that like, he's definitely the fuck the attitude out of ya. however, he's also not the best at reading situations (I feel unlike Carmy, because he senses his girl's moods more quickly just because he's more soft and attentive in nature)

so imagine lip coming home after his gf had a horrible day and she's just done and usually, she fires back at lip and enjoys their little fights that turn to sex. but today she's done and lip just keeps at it, at first, until she snaps and goes off, "lip i cannot do this right now, can't you see that?" and her voice breaks and she tears up. and lip freezes at first because he's an idiot and could not see this coming but he turns so quickly? he sees you starting to turn and walk toward the bedroom but he's sure as fuck not going to let his girl be and sad by herself, especially since he was a part of it, so in a second you're wrapped in his arms and his cooing and apologizing and stroking your hair. the evening ends up quite different with lip and his girl cuddled up, she's wearing his shirt and watching her fav movies together and it's the first time she's seen lip so fucking soft and it ends up just changing the relationship for the better <3

lip just likes a brat idk something about the fight and best of all the taming of a brat just does it for him.

sometimes you make it wayyyy too easy on him. you’ll come home in a little attitude that’s got his cock twitching, mouthy and ready for a fight, only for him to have you absolutely dumb on his cock later while he fucks you quite literally brainless.

then there’s nights lip is in a mood for it, and will look for any sigh that you are too. normally you’re more than happy to oblige him, play along when he starts being a little mean to you. not tonight.

maybe it was the slight whine in your tone when you told him to stop, really you were just overwhelmed and trying not to get emotional.

“lip, I told you I’m not in the fucking mood.” you snap.

“the fucks wrong with you, huh?” lip scoffs. “being a bitch today.”

normally, that type of degrading would have you on your knees, but not this time. your eyes well up with tears, a small whine that has lip’s eyes bulging.

“wait, shit, I’m sorry.” lip says quickly. “what’s wrong? hey, I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry. look at me, please? I-I didn’t…”

you cling to him anyways, small hiccuping sobs that has lip cringing lightly, your face buried in his shirt. “I just… I had a really bad day at work.”

“what happened?” lip cooed before he meant to. his hands fell down your spine, stroking it gently while you told him.

“what’s that fuckers name? I’ll fuckin kick his ass.” lip growled, shaking his head furiously.

you grin, wiping at your eyes. “‘s ok.” you shrug, arms still around his torso. “I just… I don’t wanna do too much tonight.”

“no, no, I get that, baby. I’m sorry. I thought you were… it-it doesn’t matter. c’mere. I gotcha tonight.” lip pulls you into your shared bedroom, helping you out of your work clothes sweetly. even taking off your shoes, giving your feet a nice rub that had you swooning.

you settled in one of his shirts, one soft with wear that smelled just like lip. he fucked you into the mattress, right to sleep all sweet and loving, lips on yours, on your cheeks, nose pressed against your temple while his hips rolled into yours.

[perfectfangirl]

notes after rewatching fallout s1 ep1

so once again like a crazy person [i've done this with star wars sequels before] i've decided to take three and half pages of notes over the course of an hour. i've been a fan of the games for at least a decade and i'm actually always watching lore content between the installments though so while i do know some minute details, within the show, there was some things i was interested in and curious about that i just decided to jot down. some of this may be things discussed already and some of it might be something i wasn't sure if anyone brought up before but anyways! maybe i'll do the whole season, but here's my ramblings • them titling the episode "the end" was when i knew i'd love the show • ok but i really wonder if cooper can still do those party tricks? he was really good at them and lucy would probably love them too 🥺 • thinking back, the radio in the first scene mentions not knowing where the president is--- beginning to wonder if he was the guy sitting in on the vault tec meeting • just realized they introduced the mr. handy robot in some of the first scenes • ten years of nuclear threat according to anchor but the show is careful not to give away all the cards because why does the weather anchor make it seem like they know when the bomb will drop? idk but birthday boy mother turns off tv real "head in the sand" like • the nat king cole song that's playing though [wondering if the song is mirroring specifically cooper's feelings about barb despite everything hmm] • horse's name is sugarfoot 🥹 • him having to pay alimony... wonder what the prenup? was like... [still think he probably loves barb 😞]

• them calling him a pinko despite him being an architect of vault boy's persona, a quintessential presentation of a "man's man" acting as a cowboy, a real cowboy, a former marine--- wondering if there was a smear campaign after his situation with barb and vault tec, him working children's parties leads me to believe... • did the kid's say the birthday boy's name was boyd? [if so, there's another character in the games with this name and this is also the name of a character walton has played in another series, funny] • weather man show's up again distressed, wondering if we'll get more info about that day • everyone ignoring, cognitive dissonancing their own nuclear annihilation is so prescient if not disturbing and damning

• him teaching janey the thumb thing ☹️ • cooper's voice when he says "let me see if i can't rustle you up a piece" 😩 • janey being the only one to notice the first bomb • the fear in cooper's eyes • cooper being in denial one last time before realization sets in • people becoming animals the moment they realize what's happening--- one guy punches his friend not letting his family into the fallout shelter • people getting into their cars and cooper onto his horse to escape--- wonder how fast they could be since it doesn't seem you could outrun nuclear annihilation

• lucy being raised so well under the circumstances 😔 [hope she never becomes her father] • i haven't trusted steph since episode one • lucy being a teacher [amongst other things] and asking maximus about what happened after the bombs fell makes so much sense [and also much like another person suggested is an interesting juxtaposition to cooper's pre war knowledge] • lucy showing how skilled she is for being a marriage candidate when in reality we are seeing someone fit for the wasteland is crazy on second watch • is lucy not watching a cooper howard movie with her dad? hello??

• them reading "war and peace" in the family book club is rich • lucy [thinking] she's not good at guns, ironic • steph having to step in like a sisterly type because lucy's mom isn't there 😞 • the wedding dress on lucy being ill fitting, tight as symbolism for lucy not truly "fitting in there" and being constrained [foreshadowing] oof • the vault boy sign in the back saying "don't lose your head" lmao • didn't catch the "cousin stuff" until someone mentioned it on tumblr and twitter 💀

• the flashback we see of lucy ending up being almost a false memory, a misrepresentation of her actual memories, that she has been on the surface, in the sun • norm taunting lucy about her future husband being "anybody" and a "cannibal, crammed full of tumours" 😭 unfortunately for ghoulcy, this was some of the heaviest foreshadowing [the raider also could have been one too] • why didn't hank recognize moldaver? • so many things i still don't understand about vaults 31, 32, 33 • the growing realization they are raiders was pretty funny to me lmao

• moldaver having to sit through the disingenuous lies of hank ugh • norm going into vault 32 like they wanted them to know what was up? or is that just how vault doors work? they used lucy's mom's pip boy [that hank lied about burying] • lucy putting norm in a storage vault, she really is so strong • the handed down wedding dress getting messed up • i am curious if the raiders [shady sands survivors?] only mostly harmed vault tec aligners but maybe not • the way hank and steph retaliating a little too well • hank acting like he doesn't know moldaver when everyone really does know moldaver • moldaver telling lucy she looks like her mother is really such a tipoff

• realizing maximus is getting bullied 😭 • dane... might love maximus a little idk • from latrine duty to basically ruling over the brotherhood of steel • they really showed some dude jacking it lmao it's just normal i guess 💀 • maximus being defeated and having a rightful outburst of emotion, poor guy • the poster saying "the outside world can never harm you"--- funny • chet would've died up there 😭 • them not opening the vault back up for her, wondering if the vapourized bodies are from the initial bomb drop or the subsequent shady sands ones • dane almost gets maximus killed three times tbh • maximus joined the brotherhood of steel to get back at what vault tec did, essentially hank's doing, hank has many enemies • knowing the enclave, it makes sense why siggi is hunted • cooper the ghoul's introduction though • the bounty hunter saying his captors dig cooper up every once in a while to cut pieces of flesh off him 😞 no wonder cooper acts the way he does 😔 he's been taken advantage of, no wonder he doesn't trust anybody and is horrible to everyone • "why is this an amish production of "the count of monte cristo" or the weirdest circle jerk i've ever been invited to?" why would he say this 😭 • cooper's... been invited to circle jerks 👀 • does the bounty hunter know the ghoul is cooper howard?

• him not harming the chicken, him healing dogmeat, there's something there, folks • people only digging him up to use him again 😞 • what a coincidence he's dug up just as lucy leaves the vault • "i do this shit for the love of the game" he's a character, he's playing a character, real theatre kid • hence why cooper is introduced as "the ghoul", cooper is long gone • "us cowpokes, we take it as it comes" something about this lineee

[tokio-motel]

yo idk if this will send cuz im at school but could i order erm🤓 headcannons with tokio hotel(separately) with a bf who literally cannot handle yelling or arguments between them like for example in an argument reader was already holding in tears and he was trying to keep his voice low as well but then (insert tokio hotel member) raises there voice and starts crying or smth but still tries to keep talking cuz he REALLY does not want to make them feel bad

this is based off of me but i swear im not a crybaby😩

TOKIO HOTEL X MALE READER: ARGUMENTS

nah bro that's crazy cuz I relate to this sm omg 💀

BILL:

・Bill hates arguing, but once he's in the mindset he defends himself alot.

・Kinda bad at taking signs, like if your voice hitches slightly or if you sniffle.

・He doesn't really notice it when he raises his voice

・Ig it's a singer thing 🤷🏻

・Once he sees you kinda freeze up and your eye get glossy he wants to smack himself.

・His heart shatters as he watches the tears start to overflow.

・If you continue talking he just kinda looks at you, stilling his movements.

・His eyes start to get glossed over too

・If you shake when you cry he almost immediately tries to pull you into a hug.

・If you don't wanna talk to him at the moment he just comes by later with some of your favorite treats and sits by you

・Kisses your forehead over and over, running his fingers through your hair as he repeatedly apologises.

・Cuddles you throughout the rest of the day 🤗

TOM:

・I write Tom as a 'fluffy' person but irl he's so different...

・He gets extremely defensive and can talk in arguments for hours.

・Like Bill he's not the best at reading signs since he so caught up in his own emotions.

・He doesn't understand why your being so quiet, probably calls you out.

・This is the point I the argument where he reaches his peak, starting to raise his voice louder and louder.

・If you take a shaky breath and wipe away a tear in your eye or if your eyes get glossy he just kinda pauses.

・Looks at you for a minute before inhaling deeply.

・Stays silent for a second before he speaks in a quieter tone.

・If you keep talking he does aswell, but he still keeps a soft tone.

・He's kinda bad at apologizing so he doesn't know what to do

・Mutters a small 'Sorry.'

・Sheepishly rubs his neck, avoiding eye contact. After apologizing he prob walks away.

・Later after he relaxes himself he comes up to you and actually gives a sincere apology that he probably spent 30 minutes rehearsing. Take your hand in his as he sits next to you.

GEORG:

・Not as aggressive as Tom, but still gets defensive

・He's better at noticing signs, like if you shake or your voice cracks slightly he tries to ease himself and calm down.

・He takes deep breathes as he tries to ease himself and tone of voice but it goes up without him realising.

・Guess what he does next....... Raises his voice!!! 😱😱

・Once he does this it stays like that for a few minutes.

・At a certain point you get emotional and let out a soft sob.

・If you try to cover it up and keep talking he doesn't respond, just staring at you.

・Eyes flicker back and forth from yours.

・Takes another deep breath before he suggests you both calm down, sit, and talk about it.

・He tries to understand your side of the argument and listen to you.

・After your talk he suggests watching a movie or something to ease your minds.

GUSTAV:

・Bro hates arguing. Like he tries to avoid it at all costs.

・Like normally you guys just talk it out and everythings ok 😍

・not today

・It must be a pretty serious topic for him to get so worked up

・Almost never raises his voice at you, so this was definitely a shocker.

・If he screams/raises his voice he immediately pauses after, watching the emotion on your face turn into sadness.

・If you start to cry he takes a shaky breath, looking at you with concern.

・Hes so mad at himself that if you continue to talk he doesn't process it, just looks at your broken expression.

・Like Georg he asks to talk it out in a quiet voice after your done.

・Holds you close to him, hugging you as he apologizes. Giving kisses to your cheeks and wiping away tears.

・He can't look at himself in the mirror for a good two days.

[h0n3yj4y]

Mean!Mike x Fem Reader

Nsfw - aged up Mike to 19 👍

Warnings: smut, rough sex, cursing, mocking, degrading, chocking, light slapping, Master/Daddy kink (both cuz why not), overstimulation i think, climax denial, licking lol, he yells at u a lil, idk what else to put but u get the gist 🤭 its a bit of a slow burn, theres build up to the actual rough sex so yea

-

You and ur boyfriend Mike where in his basement watching a movie that honestly neither of u were paying attention to. Why? Well, a certain someone was slowly inching their hand further up ur thigh.

Mike loved doing this, in public places, around friends, just to see ur reaction and how easily wet u got over him trailing his hand up and down ur thigh, occasionally tightly gripping it which would make u gasp, that would make him smirk at u. He'd have a cocky smile, proud of himself.

But this time Mike had other plans than just lightly teasing u like this. Instead of stopping, he kept going, until he reached ur clothed cunt, you were only wearing underwear and one of Mike's oversized sweaters, so it was very easy access for him. He softly rubbed a few figure eights which made u let out a shaky breath due to the sensation. U turned ur head to Mike who was still looking at the movie, pretending as he wasn't doing anything but oh but he knows what hes doing to you.

You started to squirm a little, getting impatient, softly whimpering. "Did i tell you you could move, slut.?" you then heard ur boyfriend say in a stern tone as he pulls his hand away and looks down at you with an intimidating gaze, a gaze that would make u melt and obey his every command. You looked up at him shyly and shaked your head "n-no..." - "No what? Hmm?" - "N-no...Master.." you look away from him feeling a bit embarrassed, you liked this all too much tho.

You felt Mike grab ur chin and aggressively turn your head to face him "Look at me when im talking to you bitch!" you flinch a lil at his sudden raise of voice. "I-im sorry Master, it wont happen again..." - "Good girl, it better not."

You were used to Mike getting aggressive like this when it came to doing intimate things, it was all part of him asserting dominance and you loved every part of it but tried not to let him know, though we all know he does. You were terrible at hiding when you really liked something, he could easily tell.

"You know, i think a lil slut like you deserves a punishment. You'd like that wouldn't you?" hearing those words come out of Mike's mouth made u squeeze ur thighs together tightly, it was so fucking hot. You completely forgot that he still had his hand resting on ur upper thigh, so he felt u press ur thighs together. He smirks "Guess that's a yes huh? Thought so."

He took his hand of ur chin as he pinned u down on the couch, both hands above ur head. His other free hand roamed down to ur dripping cunt as he removed ur underwear then raising the sweater over ur stomach for better access and view. You tried to get away from his grip but he tightened his grip on ur wrists, making u whimper in pain. There was no chance of u ever getting away from his grip, he was way stronger than u anyways.

Mike notices that and smiles innocentlg at u "Aww, did i accidentally hurt my lil baby?" he asks u with a lil pout "y-yes, a lil bit" his innocent act goes away very quickly after u say that, his facial expression drops to a stern one. "Well suck it up cuz there's more where that came from and i promise you it'll be way worse if u dont obey, ok Bunny?" you quickly nod, obeying him and trying ur best to not disobey him or do anything that will upset him again. Though u kinda want to provoke him, you love when his voice gets all deep and serious, it has a nice rasp, its very, very hot. You love it even more when hes rough with u like this, its a feeling like no other.

As you were drifting off thinking of how hot and amazing ur boyfriend is, u feel 2 fingers being shoved inside u, making u let out a loud moan as u arch ur back, not really expecting him to start off so harshly already.

"uh- uh, did i tell you that you could moan whore? You better stay quite or else, ok?" u bite ur lip and nod. He starts to pump and curl his long digits in and out of u, hitting ur sweet spot everytime without missing. This is making u go crazy, u don't know how longer u can stay quite.

As ur trying super hard to keep ur mouth shut, you see Mike lean down towards ur clit, looking at u with a devilish smirk as he starts to swirl his tongue on it at a painfully good rhythm. This is what brakes u, u cant hold it in anymore. You let out a loud moan, the overwhelming pleasure being too much. You feel urself getting close causing u too grab at Mikes hair and throw ur head back.

As u do this Mike suddenly stops, he takes his fingers out of u and takes ur hand off his hair as he then hovers over u and leans in ur ear, proceeding to then choke u pretty harshly making u gasp and grab his arm as he then whispers "What did i fucking tell you, hm? I told u to not make a single sound or even touch me, right? So why did you fucking do it you whore? couldn't obey a simple rule that Daddy gave u huh?" he sternly and angrily says in ur ear, nibbling at it a bit harshly, a shiver runs down ur spine, being very intimidated and extremely aroused.

"I-im sorry Daddy, pls it just felt too good, i c-couldn't help myself..." u stutter, Mike tsk's at u as he leans away from ur ear, making eye contact with u. He slaps ur cheek, not too harshly but enough for it to sting a lil as he then grabs ur face "pff, how pathetic. Well, i guess u give me no choice but to harshly fuck ur tight lil cunt, i bet you'd love it if i fucked u dumb, like the good cock slut u are, isn't that right Angel?" that all made u squirm and close ur legs in arousal. You shyly nod ur head but that doesn't satisfy Mike.

"Oh c'mon, us ur words slut. You have a mouth right? Then use it." he shakes ur head a lil as u then stutter out a "y-yes Daddy, p-please" - "Good girl, now be a good slut for ur Master and bend over for me won't u" he places a kiss on ur lips passionately making u smile as u then obey as u turn around and rest on ur elbows, ass up infront of Mike. He slaps ur ass harshly and u let out a quite moan, not expecting that and it hurting a lil but feeling good.

You hear Mike unbuckle his pants as he takes them off and his boxers, throwing them somewhere in the basements floor. You then feel the tip of his dick press againts ur entrance in a teasing way, making u whimper, wanting him so badly.

"Aw what's wrong Bunny? So desperate to have my cock deep inside ur dripping cunt? Ur so wet for me, you know that right?" - "yes M-master please, i want u so badly please. I need ur huge cock deep inside me now" u say with whimpers as u sway ur hips, trying to get some friction, so desperate to have his huge cock inside u.

You hear Mike chuckle "alright Angel, if u say so" u then feel him shove his cock deep inside of you very harshly as he holds onto ur hip with one hand and the other goes to harshly pull ur hair to throw ur head back. You let out very loud moans, the pain and pleasure feeling amazing but also very overwhelming.

You try ur best to not be very loud but its literally impossible at the pace he's going. Mike's pounding into u hard and fast, having no intentions of slowing down. U keep letting out loud moans until u feel 3 fingers being shoved in ur mouth, followed by a harsh pull of ur hair.

Mike leans close to ur ear as he sternly whispers "Shut the fuck up whore, u wouldn't want anyone hearing us now would u? But now that I think about it, you would like it, you'd love for people to know who you belong to and how I make you feel. For everyone to know ur Daddy's lil cock slut." All u can muster out are muffled moans as he starts to go faster and harsher making u roll ur eyes back. Mike rests his head on ghe crook of ur next, biting down harshly making u mewl in pleasure, he then licks the spot he abused since he drew a bit if blood.

U ghen feel a knot forming at ur lower stomach so u try to tell Mike that ur close and u succeed but what u didn't expect was Mike coming to a stop and pulling out of u all of a sudden, letting go of ur hair and taking his fingers out ur mouth.

U moan in confusion and frustration, just being denied ur climax. U are about to say something but Mike then flips you around so that you are laying on your back, facing him. He then shoves himself back inside of u, picking his fast and harsh pace back up, making u arch ur bike and let out even more louder moans. Before you can let out another moan you feel Mike's lips against yours as he kisses you harshly, getting u to shut up or to at least muffle ur slutty moans.

He pulls away for a sec "God shut the fuck up already whore, ur so fucking loud." don't get him wrong he loves hearing ur beautiful moans and how u moan out his name but u were seriously being so loud, u were gonna get eachother caught. He goes back to kissing u, this time choking u a bit to make sure u stay quiet enough.

U loved how his hand perfectly wrapped around ur neck, almost feels as if it was fit to belong around ur neck and ur absolutely living for that.

As Mike continues his fast and harsh pace, u feel a knot form at ur stomach meaning that u were close again. "Mmm M-mike im close" - "Hold it, don't u dare cum yet" u whimpered in agony, u dont think u can hold it, it was too much. "You'll cum when i tell u." he growled, burying his face in the crook of ur neck. U felt him kiss ur neck and nibble at it, licking ur sensitive spot whenever he would suck on ur neck which made u go crazy. U loved the sensation of his warm, soft tongue trailing along ur neck, especially on the places he's marked.

You felt his dick twitch inside u as he says "Cum for me baby, now." - "y-yes Daddy mmm, cum inside me pls, fill me up" u were on birth control so it was ok for Mike to cum inside u. You then let out a loud muffled moan as u clawed at Mike's back, cumming all over his cock as he then let out a moan of his own, climaxing inside of u, filling u up.

You both road out ur highs as he then pulled out of u, both of u catching ur breaths. Mike hovered over u, looking u up and down, smiling down at u, placing a soft kiss on ur lips. You sighed in relief, smiling back at him and cupping his face as u caressed him comfortingly.

"You ok baby? Need anything? Did i hurt u?" Ah yes, anytime u and Mike have harsh sex, he takes good care of u afterwards. Getting all worried and asking you if u need anything every 5 seconds. You loved how caring he was afterwards, he was truly the best. "Im ok Mikey dont worry, u didn't hurt me at all" you smile reassuringly at ur worried boyfriend. "You sure? Please tell me." - "Yes Mike im ok! don`t worry so much, i will be ok, though i don't think i'll be able to walk for awhile."

Mike laughs and kisses ur forehead "Yea i know u won't be able too, gonna have to carry u around like a baby" - "oh fuck off" - "Love you toooo" you both share some laughs and sweet sensual kisses and hand holding. Mike then gets both of u cleaned up, giving u a new pair of underwear and a mute green sweater of his to wear.

U both then go to his room as u fall asleep in eachothers arms. Feeling safer than ever and so very loved.

-

-

-

A/N: AAAAH this is my first ever ff so plsss don't bash me if its kinda bad. I finished writing this at like 2am im so tired guys. (⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄﹏o̴̶̷̥⸝⸝)

Anywho, i hope u enjoyed it! I don`t write a whole lot but i might write some headcanons or imagines for Mike or/and Miles in the future. Might do other Finn characters aswell like Richie and Boris. Uuuu maybe i will write some Will Byers stuff and Byler stuff aswell! Who knows we will see, anyways good night now, take care luvs <3

OH ALSO IF THERE ARE ANY SPELLING MISTAKES PLS TELL ME SO I CAN FIX EM, THANK U BYE BYE💛🌻🌼🌾

[arabellavernierwrites]

hiiii i love your work so far and you have such an easy to read and chill writing style i love itttt

idk how to do requests lol but ok:

would you do a super fluffy spencer reid x reader during season 5 when he’d been shot in the knee (or maybe he’s injured in another way i don’t mind) but he’s having trouble showering bc it hurts and it’s difficult and the reader basically washes his hair for him? and idk if you want to extend it maybe they could cuddle up and watch a movie or something? idk i thought it was cute hehe

nothing nsfw just a lil angst and mostly fluff

thank you so much !! :)

wash day. s.r.

summary : after being shot in the knee , spencer had been struggling to take a shower. in a moment of desperation , he lets you help him.

word count : 1669

warnings : mentions of injury , mentions of pain , mentions of fighting unconsciousness , descriptions of self-loathing , suggestions to nudity (bath)

a/n : hi guys ! thank you so much for sending in another request , it really brightens my day knowing you guys want to read my writing , and like it enough to want to send requests ! so thank you for being so good to me and offering so much kindness. i want to thank @c-m-stuff for being supportive of literally everything i post , so go celebrate maya’s 100 followers for mood boards , promoting your own fics , and headcannons (ends july 10) ! and thank you so much to @kaitlynpcallmebeepme for sending me such sweet and encouraging words the other day , she has so much amazing works that you have to check out. i cannot thank you all enough for being so wonderful to me. my requests are still open , so please send more ! and thank you to all that send requests in ! hope you have an amazing incredible wonderful day. love you guys !

you returned from work to a fairly quiet household. not much of your usual setting was disrupted, aside from a few of spencer’s things lying around.

a few weeks ago, he had been shot in the knee, causing him to hang around at home a lot more than he typically would. partially because hotch told him off every time he spent even 5 minutes exerting more energy than he needed, and partially because he loved spending every second with you. even though it was something you were sure he wouldn’t ever admit, his heart swelled every time you looked after him.

aside from a few misplaced items, spencer was nowhere to be found. a cause for concern, you decided to check the bedroom to see if he had hit the hay early that day, only to be met with an empty bed.

you jumped as a loud clatter of metal rang out in the bathroom behind you, “spencer? are you alright, sweetheart?”

the shower timidly turned on, the water pattering off the tile below, muffling the sound of his voice, “i’m alright”.

spencer didn’t often lie, he didn’t have to. he knew that whatever fib he told wouldn’t stand a chance against his truthful tone. which is why you knew he wasn’t alright.

“can i come in?” you asked sweetly, placing your hand on the door knob.

“of course,” he muttered quietly, defeat evident in his voice.

you opened the bathroom door to spencer seated on the edge of the tub, his crutches fallen to the ground, his shirt drenched, and his hair partially wet. he looked up at you through his lashes, a hint of sadness and a plea for help swirled within his gaze.

“what happened?” you asked, sincerely, taking a seat next to him.

his lower lip threatened to quiver as his head turned to the floor, embarrassment not allowing him to meet your eyes, “i feel gross”.

you rubbed a hand up and down his back, the wet fabric clinging to his skin, “what do you mean?”

“my hair feels gross, my body feels gross,” he shook his head softly, “i just wanted to shower. but i can’t”.

“it’s difficult with the leg, isn’t it?” you questioned, he nodded his head.

“i tried earlier when you were at work, but this happened,” he pushed his hair off of his forehead, showing a small, red welt near his temple, “the movement is painful too”.

“my sweet thing,” you tutted, “did you clean it?”

he shook his head, the shame and frustration of not being able to care for himself returning. insecurity building with each day of failed attempts at getting clean. feeling uncomfortable, gross, and unattractive made his mind hazy with self-repulsion.

“it just hurts,” he whispered, “it’s too painful to do by myself”.

he thought back to the first time he tried to shower on his own. he bumped his knee while trying to take his clothes off. the pain was so excruciating he spent several minutes fighting unconsciousness, gripping the bathroom countertop to keep himself from collapsing on the floor, hot tears streaming down his cheeks as he breathed deeply. he spent the rest of the day in bed, his head buried into the pillow, desperate to dull the ache that seemed to consume his entire body.

“well, i’ll help,” you stood, turning to face spencer, “let’s get you a nice bath”.

you reached out, assisting him in getting up from the bathtub to sit on the lid of the toilet seat.

“is it alright if i undress you?” you asked, holding onto the bottom of his sopping shirt. he nodded, allowing you to take full control.

you gently peeled his shirt over his head, tossing it into the laundry basket next to you. his shoulders were hunched over, clearly experiencing some discomfort with being shirtless when he felt so self-conscious about his current, un-showered state.

you knelt down in front of him, helping unclip and remove the mechanical brace that had been keeping his leg at a slight angle. it was placed on the bathroom counter as you took your time removing all of his remaining clothing, needing to maneuver a few times to rid him of his pants and undergarments.

despite being as careful as possible, he was full of whines, groans, and pained whimpers.

“i need a second,” he quietly panted, discomfort firing off throughout his body.

when he was ready, you braced each other’s arms, taking your time as he struggled with his balance getting into the bath. wobbling, nervous, and gripping you tightly, spencer had finally been able to get in there for the first time in days.

“look at you,” you cheered, celebrating his victory as he failed to hide a smile, “i’m gonna have your back face the faucet”.

he grimaced as you helped lower him to sit in the tub, his pain evident in the white-knuckled grip he had on your hands.

“i’ll be back in just a second, okay?” you hurried into the kitchen, grabbing a cup from the cabinet, and a small towel from the hall closet.

you placed the cloth over his bandaged knee, being as cautious as you could to not touch it, “i don’t want this to get wet”.

spencer looked up at you with appreciation for your kind heart. his sweet brown eyes with his long lashes, you couldn’t help yourself from leaning in for a kiss.

“i love your hair,” you smiled, filling the cup with water from the running faucet behind spencer, “you have the softest boy hair ever”.

spencer chuckled, “what does that mean?”

you leaned him back slightly, pouring the contents of cup on his head, angling it to not get any water in his eyes, “i feel like guys always have really coarse hair. sure, it might be healthy, but it isn’t soft like girl hair”.

“you have much experience with guy hair?” he asked, humor evident in his tone.

“not necessarily,” you squeezed yourself a handful of shampoo, “girl hair on the other hand”.

spencer laughed, for the first time in days it wasn’t feigned or forced, “i know. you can’t keep your hands off penelope, emily, or jj when they visit”.

“part of girlhood, i guess,” you shrugged, “we spend our recesses in elementary school braiding each other’s hair, help each other curl our hair for middle school dances, and eventually completely fry it together in high school”.

“the only two people that touched my hair before you were my mom and that one guy at supercuts,” spencer closed his eyes as you emulsified the shampoo at his roots, massaging in the frothy suds.

“i kinda miss the elevated bowl cut,” you teased.

spencer groaned, trying hard not to roll his eyes, “i don’t”.

you rinsed his head clean of the soap.

“when you used to gel it back for work? super hot,” you reached for your pricey conditioner, an expense you liked treating yourself to every once in a while.

“when we watched all of those black and white films together,” he reminisced, “that was my homage to gregory peck. or at least my attempt at it”.

“it was cute,” you nodded, “i really liked the glasses with it too”.

you rubbed the conditioner together in your hands, fingering through his long locks to free them from any knots that may have tangled themselves together from the shampoo.

his body relaxed itself, no longer so tense from the awkwardness of trying to get into the bathtub.

you appreciated this moment of silence. just you and the man you love more than anything. something as simple as washing his hair being the highlight of your day, solely because it’s time spent with him. a simple conversation between the two of you enough to make your heart swell the way it did when you first met.

“we’re almost done,” you rinsed the remaining conditioner from his ends.

as the last cup of water rid his hair of any product, you prepared yourself to help him up.

“we did it!” you cheered squeezing out any excess water from his dripping hair.

the thought of getting him back on the floor safely was daunting. it was difficult before, but now everything was sopping too.

you were slow and careful, assisting him in getting back on his feet. you gripped him harder than necessary, worried he was gonna come crashing to the ground and split his knee back open. your brows furrowed in concentration, both of his feet coming to rest on the bath mat.

you grabbed a towel from the rack as he caught his breath, unable to hide the pain from his face.

gently, you dried him off, wrapping the cloth around his waist as you ordered him to sit back down on the lid of the toilet seat. he panted in victory, his first shower in nearly a week had been completed successfully, all thanks to you.

“you did a great job,” you grabbed the other towel, draping it over his head.

placing both hands down, you rubbed in circles. drying his hair fairly quickly, you tossed the towel off to this side, landing in a crumpled bunch at the bottom of the laundry basket.

spencer smiled up at you through the hair that hung in front of his face, “thank you”.

“of course,” you swept it out of his eyes, “let’s get you into some comfy clothes”.

as spencer sat on the edge of the bed in his plaid pants, you were planted cross-legged behind him, hair brush in hand. you took your time, tender strokes through his nearly shoulder-length hair. brushing and brushing again, he progressively slumped over, tiredness trying to take over.

“how about we call it a night?” you asked, turning him to lay down next to you.

“okay,” he answered quietly, pulling you into his arms as you turned off the bedside lamp, “thank you for your help today”.

you grinned, giving him a quick kiss, “anything for you”.

[dandylovesturtles]

@theplacewhereidumpmyinterests I can't talk about most of them because they're part of an AU verse I want to keep secret until I have the first fic that's part of it written, and idk when that will be (by summer?? HOPEFULLY??), but I guess I can talk about the other one because idk if/when I will write a fic for him (I'd like to but like I am only human)

"more AUs Dandy?" LISTEN all I do is sit around and think about "what if"s, okay?

ok so this started as me being like, hm, we see Lou Jitsu with a rotating door of women, so many he doesn't seem to remember all their names, so it's not totally out there to think he might have gotten one of them pregnant, right?

and thus Marcus (middle name Kyle) was born! literally!

so the story for this is, Lou Jitsu had a fling with a woman in the early 90s, pre-Big Mama. they were both in agreement that the whole thing was casual and it didn't last very long, but oopsie-daisy about six weeks after their last night together she finds out she's pregnant.

she debates what to do for a bit, because, as established, Lou Jitsu is kinda a fuckboi and she doesn't really want a relationship with him. But once she decides she's definitely keeping the baby she feels like she can't just not tell him, right? so she tries!

...unfortunately he's dating Big Mama by that point and she interferes to make sure that Lou Jitsu never meets with the woman and never finds out, because she knows this would get in the way of her plans.

she takes never hearing back from LJ as a sign he just isn't interested in the kid and resolves to single-motherhood. which she is the best at, btw.

she's still considering trying to introduce Marcus to his dad at some point, but unfortunately her kid isn't even 5 before Lou Jitsu suddenly goes missing, with his teary fiancée telling a sob story to the cops. assuming, same as everyone else, that he's dead, she lets the whole thing go, though she does tell Marcus who his dad is once he's old enough to understand everything.

Marcus goes through periods of being obsessed with Lou Jitsu, watching all his movies and consuming every piece of media about him that he can find, and periods where he can't stand to even hear the name. it's up and down. from his perspective, LJ abandoned him and his mom, but he's also dead, so it's not like he can have closure on this ever, right? so it's just a thing he has to deal with on his own.

but he's fine! he's alright. he gets through high school, then college, then accepted into vet school just fine.

then... his mom gets sick and dies.

yeah, that's a hard blow.

but he's alright! he has a few buddies from college he still sees now and then, and he's started his zoo vet residency at the Bronx Zoo (with a particularly special interest in reptiles), so lots of new people to meet that way! he's doing great! he's not lonely at all!

(a few months ago, he was suddenly woken up by a surge of something, like dozens of voices were crying out to him for help, tugging him toward something, saying his family needs him...

yeah, no idea what that was about. he doesn't have any family anymore.)

then the sky opens up and aliens come out.

Marcus is at work, because of course aliens would attack at the beginning of his shift. he spends the day ushering survivors into safe zones within the zoo, using his medical knowledge to handle first aid, and just trying to stay sane as the whole world turns upside down.

and then just as suddenly as it all started... it stops.

in the aftermath, everyone around him is just trying to get home, desperately calling their loved ones and praying for the best. Marcus starts trying to figure out how he's going to get home, because the trains definitely aren't running, and as he looks as his phone for a spark of inspiration, he realizes... no one has tried to call him. his coworkers' phones have been going off all day, whenever they can get signal, as loved ones try to reach them, but... he doesn't have anyone trying to reach him. and as he sits there he realizes he doesn't know who he should be calling, either.

so. that's pretty depressing.

and as he's sitting there, thinking about his life and what led him here, in a now empty vet clinic outside the bronx zoo... he hears a noise. and then, voices.

ah great. looters.

at first, Marcus tries to call 911 - but obviously the call center is swamped. so he decides to take care of the problem himself, going to see who's there and get rid of them...

wait, who is he kidding? he's definitely not paid enough to confront potentially armed looters! he's going to get out of here.

but just as he starts to leave, he hears the voices again - coming from one of the surgery rooms this time. and they're talking about IVs... scalpels... anesthesia...

suddenly he realizes that these aren't looters - they're here to try and treat somebody.

and like hell is he going to let some idiot kill someone trying to do DIY surgery.

so he turns back around and bursts into the room... on two humans, a rat that counts as giant even for New York, and four very big, very injured turtles.

one of whom immediately points a gun in his face. to be fair, that's what he thought would happen.

"Donnie!" yells the biggest one, and, oh, they can talk. huh.

"Relax, it's just a tranquilizer!"

"Donatello!" that's the rat. there's a sound like a whip cracking and the one with the gun makes a startled noise and drops it.

now the rat is in front of him. he's looking up at Marcus imploringly. "Do you work here?" he asks.

"Y-yeah. I'm a vet."

the rat bows very politely. "my sons are seriously hurt, and I don't have the supplies to help them at home. I understand it is a lot to ask, but... we must use your supplies. please, if you could just look the other way."

Marcus looks around at the turtles, especially the one on the table, the one worst off. he looks mangled. he won't live long if he isn't properly treated.

a rat, two humans who look like teenagers, and the turtles. who the rat called "sons". now that he's noticing, they're all pretty short, other than the big one. are they also teenagers?

"...Are any of you doctors?" he asks. the littlest one starts to raise a hand, but the girl grabs it and forces it back down.

everyone else has left by now. he's the only doctor here.

alright. guess he's doing this.

"...okay, everyone make some room. let me get sterilized, and I'll see what we're working with here."

and that's how the son Lou Jitsu didn't know he had becomes primary care doctor to his teenage mutant ninja half-brothers. ^^

(and then a bunch of other stuff happens)

[muikitoo]

Sooooooooooooo...

so...

Are you still taking requests?...

Idk what you are comfortable with doing or not... But if you are ok with it, could you do a Rise Leo x Reader anxiety attack?

*Nervous anime sweat drops 👉👈*

Like, maybe the Reader has been masking emotions all day and when Leo comes over they break down or catches them mid break down... Or something like that...?

Thank you!

*Runs away-*

Anxiety attack

Leo x gn! s/o who is having an anxiety attack.

Warnings

Anxiety attack, but the rest is fluff and comfort.

A/N:

I was actually pretty excited to write this. I hope it turned out well enough

- When he finds u in the middle of an anxiety attack, he panics. A lot.

- Quickly goes and gets you some water.

- He tries to calm you down, without necessary touching you or doing anything that could possibly trigger you more.

- breathing exercises/techniques

- after youve calmed down a little he tries to use reassuring words and hugs u gently(only if u let him).

- "Its okay. Youre safe now, i promise."

- it rally hurts him to see you like that, he loves you more than anything.

- After some time he'll ask to talk to you about what happened, if you dont wana talk abt it then he'll try and distract u/make u feel better (movies, games, cuddles, ect) and then talk about it whenever you need

Leo decided to visit you, worried. You hadn't texted or called him in a while. He thought you were just busy bc of school and that you'd visit the lair after your classes ended, but you never did.

Once he entered your apartment/house - it was awfully quiet. He felt his heart start to race, thinking about everything that couldve possibly happened. "Y/n? Hermosa? You home?" He said nervously. He was afraid, which he usually masks well, but this time he couldnt even think of that. He needed to make sure youre okay. The more he got closer to your room, the more he could hear faint sobs. He entered your room and saw you on the floor, shaking.

"Y/n!" He was quick to be by your side. He was confused and didnt want to touch you or do anything triggering. He quickly ran to the kitchen to grab you some water. He helped you drink some and then set the cup down somewhere and then turned his attention back to you. "Breathe, love. Breathe." He made you look at him as he told you to follow his instructions, breathing slowly - in and out.

"hey, do you mind if i hold you for a little while?" He asked after youve calmed down a bit. After getting your approval, he slightly scooted towards you and gently layed your head on his plastron, wrapping his arms around you. "Do you mind telling me what happened? Or do you want to talk about it later? As you amazing and handsome boyfriend i want to be here for you through this and help you anyway i can!" He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood a little and wanting to earn atleast a small smile from you. You let out a shaky giggle, telling him about your stressful day and everything that happened during the classes. He listened carefully, petting your hair and humming every once in a while to let you know he's listening.

After having a talk and making sure youre okay, you decided to watch a movie. "You know what? Ill be generous today and let my amazing s/o pick whatever movie you want." He smirked as he pecked your head, getting comfortable in the sheets as he handed you the remote.

A/N: i wrote this in school so it was rushed. Im not that educated in stuff like this so if i got something wrong please correct me without being rude.

[sugar-omi]

Hi! I love your work! 🩵

Do you have any HC for MC and Cove spending their first Christmas together as a married couple?

OMG THIS TURNED INTO SUCH A BIG RAMBLE. YOUVE BROKEN ME /POS

(edit bc I called u anon, sorry I'm so used to anon rq 💀😂 anyway tysm I loved this rq so much🤭🫶🫶🫶)

Fluff, headcanons + drabble, gn reader, (after) step 4/wedding dlc, ooc cove bc my imagination ran away w me 🤷🏽‍♀️ , this is just rlly cute n soft ok

we all know cove doesn't care much for holidays since his parents divorce

but if you care for holidays, by the time you're married, cove's spark for such occasions has returned

your first Christmas as a married couple though...

he's basically lost his mind

goes on a separate shopping trip just for decorations and snacks

hot coco, candy canes, whatever else people snack on for Christmas idk

is pumpkin spice still in...? 💀

definitely goes a bit crazy with decore

wrath on the door, lights all over the house, scented candles, even a new welcome mat outside!

your home looks like it belongs in a Christmas catalog

even got matching mugs for you two

omg..

gets ornaments and stuff to decorate them

you both paint n decorate your own ornaments and then make one that says something like 'cove + y/n's 1st Christmas' with the year or smth like that anyway

I'll have find the video I'm thinking of, but...

rearranges the furniture in the living room and makes a nice bedding and snack bar

even bakes cookies!!!

sets up a movie and lights a candle and all that good stuff so you can relax when you get home

actually he looks forward to baking with you

doesn't even have to be from scratch, although he does like being your taste tester 🤭

you can task him with dying the frosting (although rmbr to look over your shoulder at least once, otherwise you're gonna have a purple snowman....)

OMG HOW COULD I FORGET

uses this as an excuse to cuddle

ALSO BUYS U MATCHING OUTFITS N SHIT BUT IMMA GET TO THAT IN A MINUTE

walks around in the skimpiest clothes like it's summer time n whines "y/nnn, I'm so cold..."

n then practically throws himself on top of you

squeals when you open the blanket or your arms and go "c'mere"

you know what he's doing after the first time or two, but are you gonna deny him? nope!

ofc he doesn't do it every time, sometimes he just falls into your lap or pulls you into his

or comes up from behind/rolls over in bed and hugs you from behind

grumbles n whines n pouts when you try to leave him :(

there's no reason you can't do a professional meeting with a 6"4 beach bum in your lap right? 😌✨️

DRABBLE

"y/n!" cove whines from down the hall, his big footsteps muffled by his winter themed socks and puppy slippers.

"yes, cove?" you call over your shoulder, eyes glued to the project on your computer screen.

the floor creaks behind you, cove right behind the couch.

he makes his presence known when he wraps his arms around your shoulders, his cheek on your head.

"its so cold y/n.." cove pouts, nuzzling into you.

you laugh, "that's because you're in a tank top, cove."

cove hums, silent for the longest and you presume his eyes are either closed or he's watching you work.

you look up, it's fruitless since you can't exactly see the top of your head.

"since you're so cold, even in that thick sweater of yours.." you sarcastically purr. "how about you get under the blanket with me?"

cove brightens, an invisible wagging tail and perky ears showing your husband's excitement at the invitation.

he bounces over to the side of the couch, flopping over the armrest and making you bounce, computer and all.

"cove!" you yelp, your astonishment turning into laughter. "what're you doing?!"

cove grins, lifting up the quilt up and squeezing in next to you, throwing an arm around your waist and squeezing his legs next to, more like tangle, yours on the ottoman.

"it's cold! i'm just getting comfortable!" cove laughs, nuzzling into your neck.

you laugh, tangling your fingers in cove's hair. "you're so silly! i'm trying to work!"

cove peeks at you, his bottom lip sagging, and he's melting you with those wide baby blues.

"c'mon, put down the computer.. just for a bit?" cove pleads.

you hum and haw, fake contemplating. "and why should i?"

cove closes your laptop, leaning over you to place it on the side table, almost knocking off the tissue box.

he rolls over on top of you, his legs in either side of your waist. "because you wanna spend time with your husband, and you need a break.."

he leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. you laugh, eyes drifting between his eyes and his lips.

"yeah?"

cove nods and hums, "yeah. you've been working for hours. days. months." cove exaggerates.

you laugh, cove's lips placing tiny kisses in your cheeks. "it has not been that long!" you put your hands on his cold shoulders, trying to warm him up by rubbing up and down.

"it's only been a few hours! also you're so cold! cove!" you exclaim, tugging up the covers trying to cover up your cold, goofy husband.

"then stop working!" cove laughs, his barrage of kisses ceasing, and he presses his smiling face into your cheek.

"i'll die of frostbite if you work another hour!" cove faints, laying on your chest and snuggling in.

you laugh, successfully getting put of you under the warmth of the quilt. "you're ridiculous. hey, get up, i can't reach the remote!"

cove snuggles in more, melting into your body. then he starts loudly fake snoring, snorting and going "mimimi!"

you laugh, pushing his shoulders. "cove!"

he laughs, burying his happy, smiling face into tour stomach. "it's nap time!"

you squirm from the vibrations and feeling off his lips and voice against your tummy. "cove!"

he leans up, watching you laugh and laugh, tears coming to your eyes.

he's melting watching you, your wedding band twinkling from the light and pure joy on your face.

you're trying to say something, telling him how silly he is and he could've just asked you to take a break with him.

but before any of that, cove steals a chaste kiss, enjoying the way your eyes sparkle and your sound of surprise.

you cup cove's neck, leaning in for another kiss, longer this time.

eventually you pull apart, your foreheads pressed together.

you're both looking into each others eyes, enjoying the sparkle, and you have a special love for cove's flushed cheeks.

"i suppose i can afford a midday nap with my husband."

cove beams, all but tackling you to the couch.

omfg that was a long drabble. um. I swear I'm normal abt cove

ANYWAY NOW BACK TO AFOREMENTIONED THE CLOTHES

every year. buys you guys matching pjs

and matching sweaters for every day/Christmas day wear ofc

omg he actually puts on the Santa hat...

thinking abt that "I saw mommy kissing santa" song n that's literally all the boys being goofs in the damn hat n ARGHH OKAY WE WILL TALK ABT THIS LATER

ANYWAY every year he makes you guys do a photo in your matching pjs

first set he ever brings, he was all shy n shit presenting it

this time he's like a goddamn goblin, sliding into the house with a bag in each hand

brought home a few matching items...

pjs. sweaters. mugs. he would've bought out the store if he could've

checks if you're gonna wear your sweater or pjs n if you don't tell him/forget to tell him, he rushes to change

very excitedly showing off your matching fit

will prbly jump up n down n grab ur hands n spin w you in a circle when u put on your matching pjs

he's totally normal abt you :)

jfc this man is so unhinged in my head im sorry LOL

I'm mostly exaggerating but he is very excited n happy to be married n do all the Christmas stuff as a married couple this time!!!

OMFG I JUST THOUGHT ABT IT

for the sake of simplicity, let's say you took cove's last name

imagine putting "Mr. and Mrs./Mr./Mx. Holden" on anything

like that ornament I mentioned to commemorate your first Christmas married

or "Mr. and Mrs./Mr./Mx. Holden" on shared gifts, or on a decoration or smth

my first thought was putting it on a sign, or window painting/stickers, or smth like that that says "Mr. and Mrs./Mr./Mx. Holden Workshop/Sleigh"

idk it's just a thought that doesn't make much sense when I write it out lol

anyway I'm rambling..

cove is just super excited

omg he always steals a kiss when under the mistletoe so imagine him hanging it over your heads

he's a bit shy but still asks "first mistletoe kiss as your husband?" and how can you say no to that!!!