The Horny Page

Hello all! My name is Ryn, and I’m a 21 year old who loves to write, and appreciate and draw attention to others amazing works! My requests are open, please leave one on your way in or out! :)

[zaynezone]

oh my gay ass thought grape anon meant soul had competition in the sense that everyone wants a piece of mommy aditi LOLLLL which… yeah sign me up too! 😽🫧

wait i'm dumb OMG THAT IS TOTALLY WHAT THEY MEANT @mwphisto

[mwphisto]

🍇 anon baby you’re getting an honorary smooch for the misunderstanding… Aditi dumb asf and I went right along with her 🙄🙄

[slotttralist]

⸻⸻⸻ ⟡ ABOUT ⟡ ⸻⸻⸻

Kandinhale is a story-driven short RPG game in which you'll have to escape from the clutches of Kandinhale, the company that owns almost the entire consumable market in this idyllic candy world.

⸻⸻⸻

PLAY IT FOR FREE ON STEAM!

PLAY IT FOR FREE ON ITCHIO!

[lokissweater]

miss pretty

{single dad!katsuki bakugo x kindergarten teacher f!reader}

summary: katsuki bakugo has never liked mess and always made sure his son and his life reflected just that. with years worth of a sparkling clean and organized home, toys put away and not once scattered about, and a barking knack over any calls of disorder in his life— meeting you, his sons sweet and sugary kindergarten teacher who was the definition of pure and who was for some reason turning his fiery heart into complete goo— was altering his boring strict cycles of no messes around… and for the better.

warnings: cursing, FLUFFF GALORE MY GAWD??, no smut but a lil steamy something, slight angst, afab!reader, katsuki thinks you are an ANGEL, sunshine x grumpy trope, mentions of abandonment, WHOLESOME AFFF, use of y/n, all characters are aged up.

word count: 11.4k

authors note: THIS MAKES ME WANT TO BE A MOTHERRRRR omg this one is sickeningly sweet and i’ve gotten a few requests to do sunshine x grumpy with sir katsuki and i WAS ALLL OVERRR ITTT i hope i fulfilled!!! <333 THANK YOU THANK YOU AS ALWAYS FOR ALL OF YOU BEING SOOO SWEETT TO MEEE I LOVE YOUUUU MWAAAHHH :] <33333

katsuki bakugo hated messes.

“oi!” he grunted, his son’s little head turning to look at him as he munched on his gummy fruit snacks from the backseat. “you better not leave that wrapper in here. take it outside with you when i drop you off.”

“kaaayyy!” his son dragged out happily, completely unphased by his dads snappy personality as he contemplated on which color fruit gummy to eat next.

“and wash your hands too. ask your teacher.”

“mhm!” he chirped.

“and don’t be a brat. pay attention.”

“yup yup!”

and for the most part, his life reflected that almost entirely— raising his son to always clean up after himself and not make bombastic huge messes around the house, begrudgingly understanding that he’s a small growing human, that a little spill of apple juice or two is basically guaranteed… but he just hated mess, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t raise his son right to be a clean and organized man even at five years old— katsuki keeping everything in his life practically spotless.

that was of course, until he met you.

katsuki shoved through the other parents in line as he went up to the front desk in the main office with a grip on his sons little hand, not giving a damn about the glares and huffs of bewilderment he got as there was no way in hell he was gonna wait like an idiot with the rest of them.

the lady at the front desk raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“can i help—”

“where the fuck is room twenty four.”

her eyes bulged open as the rest of the parents in line softly gasped and murmured.

“e—excuse me?—”

he rolled his eyes.

“room twenty four.” he pushed. “where is it?”

“sir— if you need me to help you i’d like you to wait in line until—”

“hah?! absolutely not.” he spat. “if i wait in that fucking line my son’s gonna be late why can’t you just tell me—”

“uh sir if you could—”

katsuki’s son giggled as he continued to spout profanities at the poor front desk lady.

“—sir please no foul language there are children around—”

“i don’t give a shit! just tell me where room twenty four is what the hell is so hard about that?!—”

“oh! that’s my class!”

katsuki snapped his head over, fiery red eyes shooting towards the voice until they landed on yours.

“is he one of my kids?” you smiled sweetly, eyes coming down to look at his son.

“oh—” he let his shoulders relax just a tad as he watched you fix the strap of his sons backpack on his shoulder. “i mean— if your class is twenty four—“

“it is!” you beamed, nudging your head. “i’ll show you where!”

“hiii miiiissss!” his son greeted, happy and silly as he followed you down the hall.

“hi honey!” you gushed, just as excited as he was as you patted over his blonde scruffy hair. “what’s your name?”

“milo!”

“nice to meet you milo! are you excited for your first day?”

“yeaaahh!” he cheered, smile bright as he grabbed your hand.

katsuki’s eyes widened.

“milo!” he snapped lowly. “what’d i tell ya? you can’t grab her hand like that you have to ask—”

“oh it’s alright!” you dismissed, smiling. “i don’t mind it at all! the other kids do it too.”

milo snickered and stuck his little tongue out at his dad, and katsuki rolled his eyes.

“is he yours?” you asked kindly, tilting your head.

“who else would he be…” he grumbled.

“i guess you’re right!” you giggled. “he looks just like you.”

katsuki’s eyes flickered to yours before dropping back down, a permanent furrow in his brows as you all rounded the corner.

“here we are—”

“ooo! ooo!” milo hopped up and down. “miss you have race cars?! dad can i please go?!”

he looked over, a mountain of toys scattered about in the classrooms play area, little kids already making a damn mess and the school day hadn’t even officially started yet.

“the hell you asking me for? ask your tea—”

“miss miss can i please go play with the race cars?!—”

“of course my love! go! go have fun.” you smiled, gently ushering him on before milo zoomed over to the play area and crouched down with the rest of the kids.

“oi!” katsuki barked. “put them away when you’re done!”

he huffed under his breath as he watched his son give him a thumbs up and fucking dump the entire bucket of race cars down on the ‘abc’ play rug, taking one in each hand and dragging them across floor.

“he’s so cuteee.” you grinned. “i’m glad he’s not afraid being it’s his first day.”

“oh fuck no.” he mumbled. “milo doesn’t care. the little runt doesn’t have a filter and does whatever the hell he wants without askin’ sometimes.”

he leaned against the doorsill as he watched milo converse with another kid and share a car, satisfaction in his chest that his son was sharing and being nice.

“but i guess he gets that from me.” he finished off.

you nodded. “but that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

he pursed his lips.

“in my experience, not really.”

you hummed.

“i think it’s definitely a good thing… i’d rather be assertive of things and not be afraid of what the consequences will be.”

katsuki looked at you, properly this time.

“what’s a kindergarten teacher afraid of?”

you shrugged, a slow playful grin spreading across your face.

“parents.”

he snorted, crossing his arms over his chest and you quickly had to look away, a pink buzz to your cheeks at the way his big built arms flexed.

inappropriate inappropriate inappropriate—

“i don’t know how you do it..” he spoke lowly.

“do what?”

“take care of little shits all day.”

you laughed loudly, reeling over a bit as he watched you out of the corner of his eye.

“i don’t take care of them! i teach them.” you quipped cutely. “they’re small, but this is when their brains drink up the most knowledge… and i love to see the progress from the beginning of the year compared to the end! i love it all really.”

pure.

katsuki curtly nodded, your sweet positive ambiance throwing him completely off, as he doesn’t think he’s ever met or surrounded himself around someone who’s directly emmitted the feeling of sunshine and rainbows and candy as much as you did.

and his cheeks flared up for some reason.

“oh!” you looked to the time on your little wrist watch and walked inside your classroom. “it’s almost time to start! i have to wrangle them all in their seats heh!”

katsuki swallowed and nodded.

“milo!”

he turned and upon seeing his dad wave him over, milo dropped his toys and bounded to him.

“don’t give her a hard time alright?” he spoke sternly, nudging his head over at you for emphasis. “listen. listen and learn and be the best one in there.”

“kaaayyy!”

“and you let me know if any of the other kids mess with you or you deal with it yourself. you already know how—”

“beat the crap out of them!” he cheered loudly and katsuki’s hand flew to clasp over his sons mouth before his frantic eyes looked at you.

the last thing he needed was someone to call up fucking child protective services on him.

“he’s joking! he’s joking… fuck.”

you giggled hard and clutched your stomach, your pretty smile sending katsuki for a loop.

“no you’re absolutely right!” you waved your hands in front of your face, reassuring. “treat others the way you want to be treated, so if someone’s being mean to you, bite back milo, okay? and also let me know first though!”

katsuki gave you a wobbly tiny smile amidst his branded serious face, looking at his son then and ruffling up his hair.

“okay, go.” milo ran off. “and don’t let me pick you up with dirt all over your clothes ya hear me?!”

“byeee daaaddd!”

you could tell that behind his harsh exterior— the slight purse of his lips, stiff frame and bouncing leg gave away that he was only worried about his kid and his first day of school, a sight you’ve seen time and time again since you started working as a kindergarten teacher, and one that never failed to warm your heart.

“don’t worry!” you sweetly smiled, and katsuki switched his gaze over to yours. “i’ll watch him especially… okay? to ease the nerves.”

he softly snorted, attempting to play it off but internally relieved as he pushed himself off the doorsill and nodded, thankful that the teacher milo got was as kind as you.

“um…” he mumbled. “katsuki.”

you tilted your head. “katsuki?”

“it’s my name idiot.”

“oh!” you giggled, a blush rising in your cheeks again as you tried to simmer it down. “nice to meet you katsuki! i’ll see you after school then with milo?”

he stiffly nodded, the way his name sounded so sugary off your tongue something he’d never heard before in his life or was used to at all.

“…ya gonna tell me yours or what?”

“sorry!” you sputtered, laughing nervously. “sorry it just— flew! you know—”

you stuck your hand out and offered it to him.

“y/n!”

katsuki untangled his arms and firmly shook it, grip strong and one that nearly made you stumble forward as you caught yourself and smiled.

“i’ll see you katsuki!”

out of all of the kids you’ve taught, milo was by far the cutest one.

the little man was like your personal assistant— a little bee buzzing around as he followed you everywhere in the classroom and helped you clean up after the rest of the kids that didn’t, ‘yelling’ at some of them to and cutely scolding them whenever he’d catch them leave some things behind, and was always on watch for you like a security guard with his little balled up fists on his hips, surveilling the classroom for any misbehaving kids or messes that you’d missed throughout the day.

all traits you no doubt knew he got from katsuki, even if you had just met him. it was pleasantly obvious.

“thanks for helping me out today, milo!” you gushed, pushing another students chair in as they all sat down and chattered for lunch. “you made my job a lot easier!”

“really?!” he squealed, big glimmering eyes beaming up at you before he happily chowed down on some apple slices.

and you noticed then milo’s lunch was insane, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cut up and molded neatly into the shape of panda bears, his watermelon and apple slices shaped like stars with carrots and celery lined up with a little wedge of lemon if he wished, tiny rice balls on the side for a little snack you figured in case what he had didn’t fill him up— all so considerate and careful…

“wow!” you exclaimed, kneeling down next to him. “your lunch looks so yummy my love! did your mommy make this?”

“nuh uh!” he shook his head, cheeks filled with watermelon. “my dad did!”

you faltered.

“katsuki made this?”

“who’s katsuki miss?” he asked curiously, sipping on his little juice box after swallowing the fruit in his mouth.

you giggled. “nothing! nothing. enjoy your lunch okay?”

you went to stand, but milo’s hand shot out and caught your wrist.

“can you— can you eat lunch with me?” he mumbled shyly, fiddling with some carrot pieces in his hands. “please.. i always eat with my dad but he’s not here…”

your eyes softened and you quickly nodded.

“of course! let me just go grab my lunch and ill bring it over! sounds good?”

“yaaaayyyy!” he cheered happily, arms up as you scooched a tiny chair over from a nearby table and sat with him, laughing at his cute expression.

you knew you shouldn’t use a little kid to pry… but you were guiltily curious as to know if katsuki was married or not for reasons that made you ridiculously flustered and red in the face over.

and you wanted to be respectful in case he was… since the ogling you did at his muscles this morning through his black ribbed tank was the most embarrassing moment of your career and one you hadn’t seen coming at all, it catching you off guard and feeling horrible if katsuki indeed had a wife.

but he didn’t have a ring on his finger…

“milo?” you spoke up softly.

he smiled big. “yes miss!”

“does your mommy make you lunch as well or just your dad?”

he shook his head. “just my dad! i don’t have a mom.”

your shoulders deflated.

he didn’t have a mom… at all?

you slowly reached over then and patted his blonde hair, smiling warmly as his cheeks went pink. “that’s alright! i’m sure your dad makes you lunches like this every time huh?”

“yeah!” he gasped excitedly. “yesterday he made pizzas and cut them into dinosaurs! it was so cool! and then!— and then this morning for breakfast i had waffles that looked like dynamite blasts!”

“oh my goodness!” you giggled, your heart absolutely thumping over the fact that katsuki was so dedicated to his son like that. “man, i wish my lunches were as cute as yours!”

his little eyes snapped to yours.

“i’ll tell him!”

your brows furrowed confusedly. “wha—”

“to make you lunch! i’ll tell my dad to make you lunch!”

your eyes widened and you frantically shook your head, cheeks blazing as you laughed. “oh no my love! that’s totally okay don’t worry about me silly—”

“i’ll tell him i’ll tell him i’ll tell him!—”

“milo it’s okay! i’m a big girl.” you grinned. “i’m supposed to make my own lunches.”

milo grumbled and plopped a carrot in his mouth, begrudgingly chewing as he sat there in thought.

“…will you at least let me share some of mine?”

you pouted at his generosity, wondering how a kid could be so sweet as you nodded and held your hand up.

“of course sweetie! whatever you wa—”

milo plopped all of his peanut butter sandwiches in your palm and grinned, earning a gasp from you.

“milo this is too much i can’t—”

“eat it! eat it! eait it!—”

by the end of the day, you managed to get milo to take back his sandwiches in exchange for one singular watermelon star piece, him still doing his regular duties of being your little assistant and helping you clean up after everyone before the final bell rang signaling the end of class, you carefully making sure each kiddo got their designated backpack (as there was often a mix up) and art pieces they made for their parents to take home— a permission slip for the end of the year field trip tucked away inside their bags.

and the minute you stepped outside with the rest of the kids, you were surprised to see that katsuki was one of the first parents there as he stood directly across from your classroom with crossed arms, an angry usual scowl on his face that made you laugh to yourself as you led your kids to sit down on a bench in a single file line until their parents physically came to get them or their vehicles pulled up.

“milo!” you tapped his shoulder gently. “your daddy’s over there!”

“DAAADDD!!”

milo jumped up and ran across the grass, his tiny arms out as katsuki smiled softly and crouched down to pick his son up and settle him on his lower abdomen, you wringing your fingers behind your back and walking up to them.

“were you a brat?” he grunted.

“nope!”

“did any kids mess with you?”

“nope!”

“did you leave a mess?”

“nope!”

you giggled, and katsuki’s eyes snapped in your direction.

“how was he?”

“he did so good!” you gushed, patting milo’s back as he grinned. “was my little helper and everything! didn’t leave a single mess behind and helped me clean up after everyone else… he even made sure everyone was paying attention and not misbehaving.”

“yeah! yeah! see dad?” milo poked his dads cheek. “i didn’t lie!”

“never said you lied you little runt.” he scowled. “…but good job.”

“thanks!”

katsuki set him down after milo started kicking his legs and saying something about the swings, him instantly running towards the playground and to the slide.

“did he actually do all of that?” he spoke up.

“oh yes!” you quickly nodded. “i’ve never had a kid do that before so it was really nice of him to!”

you detached your fingers from around your back and fiddled with them.

“you teach him well katsuki.”

he scoffed and turned his head, cheeks pink as he tried to regain his composure.

“damn right i do.”

you giggled then, the memory of milo telling you he didn’t have a mother suddenly popping into your mind as you watched him happily slide down the blue slide head first.

“hey i don’t mean to um..” you timidly began. “i don’t mean to pry but—”

katsuki raised a brow at you and you snapped your mouth shut.

“nothing! nothing nevermind—”

“spit it out.”

“no it’s alright! sorry i—”

he glared and you cowered, smiling bashfully as you bit your bottom lip.

“milo… milo mentioned that he didn’t have a mommy? i was just— wondering if that was true…”

“tch—” he shook his head. “that’s what you were afraid of askin’ me?”

“i told you i’m scared of parents…” you slumped cutely, and he chuckled.

“it’s just me and him.” he answered. “his mom’s never been a part of our lives.”

your heart sunk a little, eyes sad as your gaze shifted to milo playing and racing around with another kid.

“don’t do that.”

you jumped and looked at katsuki.

“do— do what—”

“look all sad and shit.”

he hesitantly reached over and planted an index finger to the crease between your brows, the feeling rough as he tried to gently drag it down and smooth over the lines.

“it’s fine.” he grumbled, letting his arm fall to his side. “it doesn’t bother him. at least i don’t think it does.”

“no!” you spoke quickly, a crazed blush on your cheeks. “it doesn’t! and milo speaks so highly of you… especially the lunches you make him.”

his brows furrowed. “his lunch?”

“yeah!” you nodded excitedly. “you prepare it so so well! how do you get his sandwiches to look like little bears? and his fruit?! every time i try to cut mine into stars they always break in half…”

he huffed out a laugh, finding your little whine funny as he reached over and ruffled up your hair, you smiling cheekily in response.

“do you use molds?” you asked politely. “to shape out the bear?”

“fuck no.” he scoffed. “i do it myself.”

your eyes flew open.

“what?! so that’s really just you? and the dinosaurs too? the pizza dinosaurs? and the waffles? the ones that looked like dynamite blasts—”

“jesus christ how much did that kid tell you?”

your face grew hot as you smacked a hand over your mouth.

“sorry!” you giggled. “i just was thinking— that his lunch was really cute and thoughtful…” you took your hand away from your face. “i’m really glad that you do little things like that for milo to make him happy.”

katsuki stared at you, your swarm of compliments and sweetness and sunshine and butterflies almost suffocating as you looked at him with those pretty doe eyes, his throat oddly closing up the longer he stared right back and allowed you to pull him into your world of wonder and abc blocks and puzzles.

but it wasn’t suffocating in a bad way, not at all.

and… maybe he did want you to pull him in.

“dad dad dad!”

milo ran over, sweaty and red faced as he reached the two of you.

“there’s a dead lizard in the slide!”

“a dead lizard?” you laughed, surprised as you reached for his little water bottle from his backpack on the ground and uncapped the lid, handing it over and ushering him to drink.

katsuki didn’t know why the domestic sight of you doing that made him melt a bit.

a bit.

“yeah miss! it was big and gross.” he breathed out after gulping some of his icy cold water. “but i buried him!”

his dads red eyes snapped down to his and narrowed.

“don’t tell me you touched that thing milo.”

“i did!” he giggled.

“oh my fucking god—” katsuki snatched his hand and started pulling him to the car as milo giggled and stuck his tongue out.

“it’s a prank! some other girl in my class did… but i helped with the dirt!”

you chuckled softly as you watched katsuki stop and roll his eyes, coming back over to you with a hyper milo.

“say bye to your teacher ya little runt. and you’re still taking a shower when you get home!”

“but i don’t wanna take a showeerrr!” milo whined, letting go of his dads hand and running to you, you crouching and extending your arms big with a pretty smile.

“bye my love!” you hugged him tight as he giggled. “i’ll see you tomorrow okay? and give your daddy a break. no more digging up dirt and playing with dead lizards.”

“kaayyyy!”

you both let go and he stepped back, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before bouncing back to his dad.

katsuki choked on his spit.

“oi!” he barked. “you can’t just kiss her cheek milo the hell is going on with you?!—”

“it’s okay don’t worry!” you smiled kindly. “he’s just being sweet is all! i don’t mind.”

“you sure?” he pushed, milo snickering. “i—”

you waved him off and wrung your fingers behind your back, leaning forward.

“i’ll see you tomorrow morning kats!”

and he froze, nodding hard as he quickly took milo’s hand and backpack before walking to the car, his heart completely aflame in his chest and cheeks red as he led his babbling son further into the parking lot and inside the car, buckling him up in his car seat before hopping in himself and starting the engine, unbelieving that he had barely just met you and he was already thinking and acting like a fucking dumbass.

“and then we learned the days of the week! oh!— and we learned numbers! i can count to fifteen dad!”

“that’s good milo.” he responded, pulling out of the schools parking lot and craning his neck to see if he could catch a final glimpse of you and settling once he did, you so pretty and conversing so nicely with another kid until he was out of the lot.

“did you eat all of your lunch? y/n tells me ya shared with her.”

“i did! i did share with her.” he grinned. “she liked my lunch!”

“good.” katsuki gave him a thumbs up through the rear view mirror. “that’s good that you always share. especially with her.”

“yup yup! she’s preeettyyy.”

he rolled his eyes, but a small smile grew at the corner of his lips as he nodded curtly.

“that she is.”

katsuki continued to drop off his son personally at your classroom every morning before school.

even when it had been a couple of months into the year, at this point many students already used to their route to and out of class and their parents just dropping them off and leaving— them not even allowed on campus as security rounded every corner and told any parents who wished to go in that they weren’t supposed to, as per policy.

but not katsuki.

katsuki didn’t give a fuck as he stormed through the main office and ignored the calls of the front desk lady, her already used to the rude asshole who came through the building every morning as he strode by and down the hall to class twenty four… wanting to see you— his son’s pretty kindergarten teacher that was sweet and joyful and someone who was everything he wasn’t, his mind curious and filled with your giggles and smiles throughout the time that he’d gotten to know you and chat with you in the mornings and the afternoons, loving the way you were with milo and treated him like he was literally your own— always watching over him and making sure he had had enough to eat and drink and that his hands were washed when he wasn’t around.

and even katsuki himself— you bringing him candy bags from their classroom parties or donuts that were passed to faculty in the mornings and saving yours for him, treats he always took and ate with no questions asked even though he wasn’t a fan of sugary shit and junk food, always making the exception for you.

he had never experienced honest help like that… he’d never experienced someone caring enough about him and his son like the way you did so perfectly every single day…

and katsuki feared that he was a little obsessed.

“oh! miss y/n!”

“yes honey?” you responded kindly, opening a juice pouch for another student and handing it to them carefully during lunch.

milo dug into his lunch pail and pulled out a small container, sticking his hand up and offering it to you.

your brows furrowed, taking it from him.

“what’s this milo?”

“it’s from my dad!”

you stopped, heart dropping to your ass as you recounted his words.

from katsuki?

“your— your dad?”

“mhm!”

you shakily popped the lid of the container open, eyes widening and filling with hearts once you saw a mix of star shaped strawberries and watermelon and papayas, drizzled over with sparkling strings of honey and singular little blueberries scattered about.

“for me?” you asked softly, crouching down next to milo. “my love— are you sure this isn’t for you? i think your dad cut these up for you—”

“nope! for you!” he gave you a big toothy smile before stuffing his mouth with crackers. “he told me not to eat it and to give it to you.”

he swallowed and reached up, you tilting down your head so he could pat it just like you always did for him.

“i hope you like it miss! they look like the ones you told me looked cute!”

“i— i love them milo.. thank you!”

you picked up a papaya piece and ate it, entirely dazed and love struck as your tastebuds savored over the sweet velvety thick honey, literally blinking back tears at how thoughtful and kind katsuki was.

he didn’t have to do this at all… yet he took the time anyways out of his morning to do this for you.

and your heart nearly fucking gave out.

after school once you got your rowdy kids to sit neatly on the bench and wait for their parents, you extended a hand for milo and he hopped off the bench and took it, you both walking up to a waiting katsuki as he stood there with a soft smile on his face.

“hi kats!”

“hey.” he picked his son up and settled him over his abdomen, milo’s arms clinging around his neck and chin propped up on his dads shoulder as he was exhausted from a days worth of playing and learning.

“i wanted to um—” you peered up at him. “i um—”

his brows furrowed, and just as he was about to bark about you stumbling over your words, he stopped.

your bottom lip was trembling.

you hurriedly wiped your eyes.

“i wanted to thank you—” hic! “f—for the star shaped fruit this morning—”

“why are you crying dumbass?” he mumbled, reaching over and wiping some tears with his rough fingers.

“because it was so nice!” you sobbed, shoulders shaking as you let him wipe your cheeks. “and— and you put honey over it too! you didn’t have to do any of that for me!”

“tch—”

he flicked your forehead softly, not enough to hurt you but enough to get you to snap out of your hiccups as you sniffled.

“it’s just fruit y/n—”

“but it’s not.” you wiped your eyes again. “not to me anyways…”

katsuki slowly lowered his arm, gaze tracing over your pretty face and perfect hair and the way you cried over something so stupid, his brain unable to process the fact that an act as simple as cutting fruit up for you could make you this happy, and it made him want to see what you saw for once— how you saw the world for exactly what it was and appreciated it regardless of how big or small things were, not snippy or angry or spiteful over everyone and thinking everything was out to get him and his son.

“crybaby…” he grumbled. “i’m glad you liked it though.”

“i did kats.. a lot. thank you.” you wiped the last of your tears and smiled. “i’m sorry i cried.”

what a pretty sweet girl…

he shook his head and hoisted milo up, him completely knocked out with drool coming out of his mouth as katsuki felt it run down his shoulder, barely even noticing that though as his entire focus was trained purely on you.

was it okay if he… asked you out? would it be weird? would you tell him to fuck off?

katsuki internally rolled his eyes at his stupid fucking high school boy thoughts, though it didn’t alleviate the gnawing feeling that if you did tell him to fuck off… that he’d be angrily mortified at his fail and probably lose the right to talk to you since it’d be too awkward to.

but you were just so fucking sweet. all of the time.

“listen uh—” he cleared his throat, face growing hot. “i was wondering if ya wanted to eat dinner with me… sometime.”

you stared, eyes big and shocked and katsuki took it defensively and entirely the wrong way.

“forget it.” he snapped. “forget it i didn’t say shit—”

“no! no no—” you quickly shook your head. “no it’s okay i would!”

he stopped.

“you would?”

“of course!” you expressed sweetly, cheeks hurting from how big you were smiling as you tried to simmer down your giddy squeals. “i’d love to have dinner with you…”

his tense shoulders slowly relaxed, an eventual small smile growing on his face.

“a—alright uh…” he sighed. “i’d prefer to take ya somewhere nice but i don’t really have anyone to watch milo—”

you shook your head again, brows pinched. “oh no kats— we don’t have to go anywhere at all! we can order something in at your place and eat with milo? or— or my place?”

“my place.” he replied. “and i’ll cook.”

he cooks?!

“okay!” you giggled, your hand reaching up and patting over milo’s sleepy head gently. “sounds good!”

katsuki and you agreed on the details of the date after and bid each other bashful goodbyes, swooning as you watched him walk away into the parking lot with a sleeping milo in his arms and feeling like none of this was fucking real, for you couldn’t believe someone as handsome and cool as katsuki would ever be interested in someone like you.

and funnily enough, he felt the complete opposite, stressed and extra snappy as he cleaned the house from top to bottom (though it barely needed it), unnecessarily fixed the positioning of the furniture and made milo put away his toys, him not even whining or protesting like he usually did solely because the little man knew you were coming— pretty miss y/n with the pretty smile and the nicest lady he had ever met, and one he secretly hoped would be his new mommy every time he saw you and his dad converse before and after school, thinking you would fit the role perfectly.

especially after his dad had given you those fruits as a present!

“milo!” katsuki called. “come ‘ere!”

his son ran into the kitchen, toy race car in hand. “what!”

“be good today, ya hear me?” he pushed, face stern as he flipped a kitchen towel over his shoulder and sautéed vegetables in his frying pan. “please milo. don’t try to be funny and do somethin’ to scare y/n off.”

milo gave him a look.

“scare miss y/n off? dad you’re gonna scare her off not me!” he giggled. “silly.”

“yeah..” he grunted. “you’re probably right but i’m just sayin’. i’m thinking of the time grandma came over and ya put that fake rat in her purse to try and be funny.”

“ohhh yeeeeah!” he doubled over in little fits of laughter, holding his stomach as he did. “i did do that!”

“see what i mean?” katsuki grumbled, snatching the kitchen towel from his shoulder and throwing it down on the counter top, stepping back to peek in the oven. “you better not do that with y/n please.”

“i won’t!” he grinned. “not when she’s about to be my new mommy!”

katsuki choked as his spit went down the wrong pipe, bending over and coughing uncontrollably in his elbow before spinning around and looking at his son with wide eyes and pink cheeks.

“the hell you just say?”

“what!” milo tilted his head. “that y/n is gonna be my new mommy?”

his eyes grew even wider as he dropped the pan he was holding on the stove and leaned back, running his hands over his face.

“oh you little runt please don’t say that in front of her, alright?”

he pouted. “why not?”

“you’ll scare her off! worse than when you put that fake rat in grandmas purse!”

“boooo!” milo stuck his tongue out and crossed his little arms over his chest. “whatever.”

“oi!”

“what!”

katsuki’s doorbell chimed and milo booked it to the front door.

“missss preettyyyy!!—”

“milo get your ass back here!—”

katsuki swung the door open and swooped his son in his arms just as he was about to pounce on you in midair, you giggling and covering your mouth as you watched the scene unfold before you.

“i’m sorry—”

“hiii misss y/nnn!” milo greeted happily, dangling off of his dad as katsuki tried to stop him from wiggling out of his grip. “i’m so exciteeeddd!—”

“hi my love!” you gushed warmly, smile wide as you extended your arms and walked forward, taking milo in your arms and setting him on your hip. “how are you? you excited to hang out with meee?”

“yes! yes!” he vigorously nodded. “i wanna show you all my race cars!”

“oh i can’t wait to seeee!” you bounced him on your hip and he giggled, you turning your attention and smiling at katsuki.

“hi kats!”

“the little brat is hogging—”

milo blew a silly raspberry at him before wrapping his arms around you and shoving his face into your neck.

you laughed and ran a soothing hand over the little man’s back, katsuki rolling his eyes before stepping to the side and letting you in, shutting the door behind him and leading you over to the kitchen.

and jesus christ you looked beautiful, him noting that pink was what you mainly wore on the day to day as he eyed your small rosy cardigan, you walking through his home and looking around and oblivious to the way he was staring at you like a fucking creep.

katsuki bit the inside of his cheek as he watched your eyes scan your surroundings, stupidly nervous about what you’d think of his house and furniture and minuscule decorations, and annoyed with himself that he’d even give a shit about something like that, trying to occupy himself and ignore it as he looked in the oven and lifted lids of various pots and pans, checking over tonight’s dinner.

“i’m sorry i’m behind…” he grumbled and waved his hand around. “had to clean the house and shower milo since he decided to play in the fuckin’ mud this morning.”

“oh you don’t have to apologize for that kats!” you looked at him worriedly. “you don’t have to apologize for anything i totally understand…”

you hoisted milo further up your hip and grinned. “i’m just happy to spend time with the both of you.”

katsuki felt smoke puff out of his red ears as he nodded and scratched the back of his neck, turning slightly and lifting the lids from his pots and pans again.

“miss preettyyyy!” milo whined. “when can i show you my race cars?!”

katsuki scowled and you laughed.

“now honey! but how about we move some of your toys to the living room so i can spend time with both you and dad? how does that sound?”

“yayayay!!” milo cheered, bouncing on your hip as you smiled cutely and set him down, him running off down the hall and you quickly following after him.

milo talked you through his entire collection of race cars as you both sat down on the living room rug— telling you the model of each and every one, what they did, how fast they went, they places they’d gone, and which were his favorites as you excitedly talked to him about his cars and shifted conversation between him and katsuki, a task he was surprised you did so efficiently, but then quickly realized that that was literally your fucking job everyday dealing with little brats talking your ears off and you attending all of them at the same time.

and when it came around to dinner time, you helped katsuki set up even through his snapping and huffing that you absolutely shouldn’t, you giving him a silly little face as you assisted anyways and set up milo’s booster seat, picking him up and sitting him down before buckling him up while katsuki placed your dishes on the table—

and gourmet fucking dishes at that.

you were bewildered. absolutely bewildered as you gawked over the lasagna platter he set before you, it delicate and fancy looking as he had even draped sauce on your gray ceramic plate in gourmet intricate designs, knowing that katsuki had mentioned to you he was a chef over the several months you’d gotten to know him, but you didn’t know exactly to which extent that chef occupation stretched to.

“kats…” you murmured. “what do you do for a living.”

“i told you idiot.” he passed over a couple of napkins and you gratefully took them, taking one then and wiping down milo’s mouth as he messily ate his cut up pieces of lasagna. “i’m a cook.”

“yeah but what kind? where?”

“why?” he gruffed. “does it look like shit?”

“no!” you giggled. “absolutely not the opposite actually! this is probably the most beautiful lasagna i’ve ever seen in my life.”

“duh.” he responded, but sent you a small smile as he ate. “i’m an executive chef down at a restaurant in the city.”

your jaw dropped. “the city?! you’re so cool kats! oh my goodness!”

his face flushed.

“my dad says his boss is a piece of—”

“don’t say it!” katsuki snapped at his son, eyes wide as you slapped a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from laughing, not wanting to encourage the little man any further.

“milo i told ya not to cuss until you’re ten—”

“ten?!” you giggled loudly and let your hand fall, sticking your fork in your lasagna and eating. “as long as he cusses with you and not at you… i think it should be fine!”

katsuki stopped.

you get it. or you rile up his bad cussing habit. either or he might as well have found his fucking soulmate.

“miss pretty!” milo called.

“yes my love?”

“do you have a boyfriend?”

katsuki smacked a hand on his forehead and you snickered.

“i don’t!” you grinned. “why milo?”

“because i want you to be my new—”

“milo if ya shut your mouth right now i’ll buy you two new race cars tomorrow.”

his son gasped dramatically and pursed his lips shut, eyes big and excited as he tried to contain himself and do as told.

“his new what?” you tilted your head cutely, katsuki’s heart hammering against his rib cage as he stuffed his mouth with food.

he shrugged. “the fuck should i know?”

“but i wanna know!” you pouted, taking your final bites of your yummy dinner.

he swallowed.

“do you want dessert?”

you gasped. “oh my god yes! i do!”

“then i suggest you shut your mouth too.”

you laughed over the table, quickly nodding as you pursed your lips like milo and pinched your thumb and index finger together, running it across your mouth and twisting your wrist like a pretend lock before dropping your hand in your lap, giddy and excited over dessert.

katsuki playfully rolled his eyes and stood, collecting all of your plates and stacking them on top of each other before taking them over to the sink.

“dad!” milo called as he bounced in his seat, katsuki grunting in response.

“what’d you make for dessert!”

“mochi.”

“yaaaayyyyy!” he cheered happily. “can i eat it with y/n in the living room?”

katsuki’s brows furrowed. “the living room?”

“yeah!” milo exclaimed. “so i can keep showing her my race cars!”

he struggled for a moment before eventually nodding. “alright… but don’t make a mess i just cleaned—”

you and milo ended up building a fucking fort once he gave you the all clear, you both saying something about it adding to the ambiance as you used the couch cushions for makeshift walls and milo’s choo choo train sheets for the roof and tent, katsuki before he knew it his entire living room a fucking mess as the three of you sat amongst the scattered about pillows and blankets eating your bits of mochi, milo mainly inside the little tent you made for him as you and katsuki were too big to fit inside with him.

his living room was a mess… but he didn’t mind.

katsuki didn’t mind the mess.

your way of living was entirely different from his, as yours had everything to do with mess due to your full time job with kids— paint all over your hands and face, marker stains on your clothes and sticky glue residue and pieces of cut up construction paper somehow in your hair, all things katsuki despised for years and made sure his house never reflected any of that.

but in that moment, with his living room in complete disarray and the positioning of his couches utterly fucked up? the dishes still in the sink and the table still set?

katsuki didn’t fucking care.

because he had never seen his son so happy. he had never seen him so excited and hyper as you helped him set up and somehow tie fairy lights that katsuki had somewhere up in his attic for holiday seasons around the fort, you looking fucking gorgeous under the dim dark lightning as you read milo one of his favorite children’s books you got from his little shelf in his room— ‘the very hungry caterpillar,’ one of your favorites too as his son followed along with you and giggled whenever you’d make a silly joke only a five year old would find funny.

and katsuki felt warm… that’s all he ever felt when he was around you.

is this what it was like to be a family?

“oh my goodness i almost forgot!” you quickly sat up and handed milo the book, him taking it as you crawled over and reached for your bag. “i brought something for you honey!”

milo gasped and sat up. “really?! what?!”

you pulled out a ceramic cream colored globe with hollowed out stars, a small bulb inside as you scooched on your knees back over to a curious katsuki and milo.

“woah..” his son whispered. “what is it?”

you smiled and reached for the nearest outlet, plugging in the little globe and flicking a switch.

the darkened room illuminated itself then with the soft murmur of a lullaby playing, star shaped shadows slowly shifting around the entire living room as milo gasped and stood, frantically pointing at each moving shadow and gushing while his little mind was trying to process how cool and fascinating this was.

and all katsuki could do was stare at you.

stare at the way you sat back on your ankles and pointed with milo, counting how many stars you could see before it shifted and repeating that for fun, stare at the way both of your eyes glowed with wonder and curiosity, and stare at the way you smiled so gracefully and looked unreal now under the starry lights, his heart on overdrive at how gentle you were and how much you cared about his son.

about him.

and katsuki was sure then he was absolutely sick over you.

you all settled after a while of playing games and eating more mochi, especially milo, the little lullaby knocking him out as he snored next to you in his fort, you and katsuki laying down next to each other as you stared up at the shifting stars.

“i’m sorry i made such a mess in your living room..” you whispered bashfully. “i promise i’ll pick everything up before i leave.”

he shook his head. “don’t worry about it i can pick up. it’s fine.”

you smiled at him warmly before looking back up at the ceiling, feet planted on the blanketed flooring as your mindlessly moved your propped up knees side to side.

“was it hard raising milo on your own kats?” you asked softly, fingers wrung together neatly on your tummy.

“it was at first.” he mumbled. “but i got used to doin’ it on my own.”

you frowned, not particularly happy with the idea that katsuki had to raise a human being on his own without any help or guidance, wishing that he would’ve had someone there to help him every once in a while, or just be there for him.

“you did an exceptional job, okay?” you began. “you should know that... milo is such an honest kid… and he’s so precious too.”

katsuki’s eyes softened, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at you in fear of you noticing his stupid flustered face as he opted for keeping his gaze glued to the starry ceiling, your sugary peachy perfume not fucking helping as he decided to sit up instead.

“he is.” he grunted softly. “don’t know how his mom didn’t see that.”

you faltered and sat up with him.

“what do you mean?”

katsuki eyed you before looking down, hands flat behind him propping himself up as he thought.

“ah… milo happened because of some random hookup i had in college.” he mumbled. “didn’t love her or anythin’, i barely knew her but still told her i’d support her and the baby obviously.”

you nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“i was there through her entire pregnancy and when milo was born… but the minute she got discharged from the hospital and took him with her, i woke up at four in the mornin’ with a knock on my door and milo left abandoned on my doorstep.”

you gasped, hand hovering over your mouth.

“are you— are you serious?”

katsuki nodded.

“she wouldn’t answer my calls, my texts, nothing. i went to her house and found out she took the first flight she could to fuck knows where.” he shook his head bitterly. “but i didn’t give a shit about me i’ll raise him i don’t care. it was never about me.

he looked at you. “it was about milo. i didn’t want him to know that his ‘mom’ left him behind like that, and i didn’t want him to think it was his fault or anythin’… shits ridiculous.”

katsuki shifted his gaze back up to the ceiling. “still don’t know how she could ever do something like that.”

the sound of a hiccup make his eyes widen and snap back to you, your eyes filled with fat tears as your bottom lip wobbled, hands coming up to cup over your mouth and nose as you tried to keep it in.

“you’re crying?”

you nodded, squeaky slight sobs slipping past your throat as you strained to keep everything down.

“that’s so cruel.” you cried softly, embarrassingly drowning in your tears in front of him yet again. “you didn’t deserve that at all kats… milo didn’t deserve that you both should’ve had such a good mommy and— and a good support system—”

katsuki pushed himself up and wrapped his big arms around your shoulders, pulling you in and rubbing a hand up and down your back comfortingly.

“you cry over everything y/n.”

“s—” hic! “—sorry—”

he laid the side of his head on top of yours as you shook, somehow feeling guilty of what he told you just because of how much you were crying.

more than when he gave you those star shaped fruits.

“oi…”

katsuki pulled back and looked at you, reaching up and wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“don’t cry baby…”

baby?!

you funnily sobbed even more and shoved your face in his chest, him chuckling as he wrapped his arms back around you and gently swayed side to side.

“stop it idiot.” he mumbled. “it’s fine. it happened years ago n’ milo and i have always been alright on our own.”

…but he wanted you now.

now that he knew what it was like to be softly cared for by someone precious like you, to feel what it was like to be warm and fuzzy and sunshine and rainbows and candy all of the time… and katsuki wanted you so. bad.

“i know..” you hiccuped. “and i’m really glad but i just wish you had someone.”

you pulled away and quickly wiped your wet cheeks. “m’sorry i cried all over your shirt—”

“don’t give a fuck.”

you breathed out a laugh and dropped your hands in your lap, looking at your fingers as you sniffed.

you were always crying for him.

“y/n.”

“yeah?”

he looked to the side with a blush to his cheeks.

“thanks for comin’ today.”

you smiled brightly and nodded.

“of course kats! how could i not?” you looked behind you to a sleeping milo, reaching over and pulling his blanket a little further up his shoulders. “i want you to know that i wanna be there for you and milo…”

he shifted his gaze to you as you turned back around.

“whether— whether you wanna keep seeing me or not—” you gnawed nervously at the inside of your cheek. “which i hope you do! but— but if not that’s totally fine i just want to be there for you both…”

how were you so pure? so thoughtful?

“why the hell wouldn’t i wanna keep seeing you?” he huffed, grumbly and embarrassed as he pursed his lips. “i’d be stupid as fuck not to…”

you blushed, happy shiny eyes looking at him eagerly like he was everything and more, and he wasn’t used to people looking at him like that whatsoever as your gaze flickered down to his lips and back up.

and you were so pretty.

“y/n.”

“mhm?”

he slowly leaned closer.

“would you be mad if i made a move on you—”

“of course not—”

katsuki lunged and planted his rough lips on yours, you tasting like straight sugar and honey as he placed his big hands on the sides of you head and held you like a piece of delicate glass, kissing and sliding your tongues in each others mouths rather quickly and breathy as he moved one hand from your pretty face down to your waist to grip it.

you placed your hands on the blanketed floor and slowly crawled over to him during the makeout, him reaching and wrapping the rest of his built muscly arms around your waist and pulling you to straddle his lap as he ran his hands up and down your sides and back, wanting to feel you as much as he possibly could and squeeze you tight as he gulped your little self down, brows furrowed and lips red.

katsuki pulled away and ran his fiery wet mouth across your jaw and to the spot right below your ear on the side of your neck, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as he bit and sucked and still squeezed you, manhandling you in a way and eating you up.

your eyes fluttered open once you heard a slight rustle, your line of sight catching milo shifting a little in his sleep.

“k—kats—” you breathlessly whispered, pushing a little at his shoulders.

he grunted.

“milo—” you pointed. “he’s waking up—”

“the fucks that gotta do with us—”

“kats!”

he groaned and pulled his mouth from you, scowling over to see his son only shifted positions and was now directly facing the both of you, tiny eyes closed as he drooled and was probably dreaming about race cars and his dads shark shaped pb & j sandwiches.

“the little runt is fine—” he shoved his face back in and gnawed at your neck again as you gasped.

“nooo!” you whined and giggled softly. “now i’m scared he’s gonna wake up…”

he huffed and officially pulled away this time, red eyes dilated and half lidded as he looked over your pinky cheeks and shy face, the purple and blue mark he made on your neck making the right side of his lips curve up into a little prideful smirk, you too distracted to notice over the way he clutched and loosened up the hold on your waist repeatedly.

katsuki kept you on his lap and scooched himself down, laying on his back and head on the pillow as he nudged you to lay on him completely over his chest and body, you more than happy to do so as you settled your head on his pecs and got comfortable with his strong arms around you— feeling so safe and looked after.

and you hadn’t expected to sleep over… but you just didn’t wanna leave, and katsuki sure as hell didn’t want you to either as you softly and quietly talked over the small tinkling of the lullaby and milo’s soft breathing, shadowy stars still slowly shifting around you as you easily switched between various topics— ranging from serious to silly as you ran a loving hand over his chest and his on your back, the both of you subconsciously lulling each other to sleep until you were just as passed out on the floor as milo.

since then, katsuki didn’t wanna let you out of his sight.

as if he wasn’t already involved enough with milo’s school activities because of you, this man became a fucking member of the pta and volunteered himself for every single event so as long as you were there, helping you out especially with fundraisers and bake sales as his desserts always sold out quicker than anything else and made bank as he snickered and boasted at the other parents that weren’t selling as much, you giving him a silly glare that never failed to shut him right up as he wanted to be good for you and not upset you.

the front desk lady even went from hating him to loving him, katsuki grumbling and chucking her a bag of leftover fundraiser chocolate chip cookies on her desk as he passed by to drop off milo in the mornings, serving as a ticket way in and to get her to shut up now instead of yelling at him from down the hall.

and he continued to give you yummy star shaped fruits.

except now some days they looked like hearts or little flowers, and he always made his fruit assortments different so you wouldn’t get tired of them and added different dippings like caramel or chocolate hazelnut, you gushing and nearly bawling literally everyday whenever you’d open the container and milo giggling at you during lunch.

you also never went a day without stopping by or staying over at katsuki’s house since your first initial date, your days so much fun and filled with love as you ate lunch or dinner with the two of them, laughing at milo’s sporadic comments or katsuki’s barking and scolding while you either played with milo, helped katsuki clean up the house and him the kitchen or you the kitchen and vice versa, or simply cuddle on the couch with kisses shared amongst you and katsuki— the three of you with milo seated peacefully and comfortable in the middle while you watched a movie or lulled the little man to sleep.

and katsuki had never felt so complete as he started leaving messes behind without even realizing or stressing about it, and he didn’t know when the fuck it was that he turned so soft and sappy— the change a bit strange to those who knew him as he was just a teeny weeny less explosive and angry over small things, and more so when it came to you and his son.

“make sure you keep your little bucket hat on honey, okay? it’s hot today and i don’t want you to tire yourself out milo.”

the end of the year field trip for the kindergarteners this year was a voyage to the local wildlife sanctuary, a gorgeous exhibit that sat right next to the national science museum in your city, its main attraction being the 25 foot koi pond and butterfly wonderland that housed various butterfly species and their little habitats— the kids field trip assignment being to count how many they see throughout the day and pick one koi fish and butterfly to draw on their journals.

katsuki, of course, volunteered as a chaperone.

“single file line please my loves!” you called, hand by your mouth. “and don’t seperate from your friends okay?! everyone stay where i can see—”

“oi!” katsuki barked, snapping and pointing at a rogue kid who decided to break free from the line and run across the grass. “the fuck do you think you’re doing!—”

“kats!” you breathed out a shocked laugh. “you’re gonna get me fired if you talk to the kids like that—”

“shit! sorry— i’m sorry baby hold on—”

katsuki booked it across the grassy lawn and caught up with the running kid on the other side, the rest of your class giggling and cackling as katsuki swooped him up with one arm and dangled him upside down while he kicked and swung tiny punches to his abs, katsuki not even flinching.

“do that again and see what happens brat.” he spat, the little kid not having a single care in the world as he giggled with the rest of the class, all of them deviously planning to piss katsuki off as much as possible since his outbursts were just funny.

“okay okay—” you smiled apologetically at him before taking the dangling boy from his arm and setting him back down, fixing over his clothes and backpack before patting his head and standing upright.

“no more running alright?” you placed your hands on your hips. “don’t we wanna see some cute little fishies and butterflies?!”

“yeeeeaaaahhhh!!” the babies cheered excitedly, each of them immediately returning to their designated spots in two lines as you grabbed your line leaders tiny hands and started the walk down the grassy field to the sanctuary.

“lemme help ya with one line baby—” katsuki went to grab one of your line leaders hands until they burst into a crying fit.

“no! no! i wanna hold miss y/n’s hand!”

katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “what’s so bad about me hah?”

“you’re ugly! miss y/n is pretty!”

the rest of the kids ruptured, laughing as katsuki sent death glares to a literal child, about to spout something nasty until his eyes flickered to your pleading face, his muscles instantly relaxing as he casted his gaze to the ground with a grumble.

you giggled and gave him a sweet kiss to his cheek in gratitude, his face flushing as he eyed your deep blue overalls and pinky shirt and the way your sunglasses sat pretty in your hair on top of your head.

“what honey?” you tilted your head.

“none of your business.”

you snickered and nudged your shoulder with his, looking over at milo from somewhere in the line to make sure he was okay before walking up the front gates of the sanctuary.

the wildlife guide met you once you all were cleared and inside the greenhouse, your kids absolutely restless as they ‘listened’ to whatever the guide had to say and just wanting to break free and run around to look at all of the fishies and butterflies like you had promised, and you not even listening either as you drooled over the way katsuki’s muscles looked under his t-shirt.

“any questions sweetheart?”

“huh?” your eyes snapped to the guide, cheeks pink as you quickly shook your head. “oh! no not at all! thank you ma’am!”

“alrighty then! just please make sure to tell your students—”

suddenly your two perfect lines broke apart as the kids started running around and pointing at fluttering butterflies and screaming, the guide looking like she’d seen a ghost as the usual quiet and serene sanctuary was now the epitome of noise.

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry—” you guiltily apologized. “my kids will settle down they’re just excited is all…”

the guide kindly waved you off before walking back to the main office, you turning and expecting to see katsuki standing next to you, but faltering once you saw he was on the other side and pulling one of your kids down that had climbed up the gates of one of the sanctuaries closed off exhibits.

“oh god..” you mumbled, about to make your way over until you spotted milo in a corner alone, staring at one of the koi ponds.

“milo?” you called softly, walking up to him.

your heart sank once he turned and you saw his little tear filled eyes and wobbling lip.

“oh no!” you gasped, crouching down and taking his tiny hands in yours. “what’s wrong my love? are you okay? is it too hot?”

you pushed some of his spiky blonde bangs back from his sweaty forehead as he shook his head.

“i can’t draw!” he sniffled. “and the koi fishies keep moving…”

your shoulders relaxed in relief.

“that’s okay!” you took his journal and pencil, wiping his wet cheeks as you smiled sweetly. “as long as we’re patient with the fishies, they’ll swim back and you can draw them again!”

you opened his journal and flipped to a new blank page, the both of you waiting quietly until a big chubby koi fish swam by.

“there!” milo whispered and pointed, and you quickly drew what you could, just making out the shape of the body before it disappeared again.

“and now we wait!” you grinned up at him. “the fishy will come back around and you’ll be able to draw it again.”

“kayyy!!”

“and you can draw milo. i’ve seen your artwork in class, remember? you always get a gold star!”

he giggled. “i do miss pretty!”

you ran a soothing hand over his back before passing his journal back.

“now you try honey—”

“i love you.”

you froze and looked up, katsuki standing there with a sincere and vulnerable look in his eye.

you stood from your crouched position and looked at him wide eyed.

“i’m not— i’m not good at this kinda shit at all and i always say somethin’ dumb but i do.”

“kats—”

“and i’m sorry it took me so long to say it but i tried to make it obvious with my stupid shaped fruits n’ shit… and i always thought you kinda just knew…”

milo was too busy focusing on catching glimpses of the koi fish to draw with his tongue peeking out to even realize what was going on next to him.

“you’re so patient baby. the way you are with me… the way you are with my kid. i need that in my life and i can’t live without it at this point…” he spoke genuinely. “your fuckin’ fault.”

you giggled and covered your face with your hands, face hot to the touch and bashful at everything he was telling you.

“come here.”

you listened and walked forward, dropping your arms as you wrapped them around his abdomen and his around your head, squishing you in his big chest as he propped his chin up.

“do you love me too or what.” he frowned. “cause if not this is shitty and embarrassing—”

“no i do!” you giggled, pulling away and giving him a cheeky smile. “i do kats you know that… i love you. so much.”

he smiled and pecked your lips. “good, miss pretty.”

katsuki had heard the entire conversation you had with his son, your words seeping with such tenderness and care, and he almost passed the fuck out when he thought about how much of a blessing you were, something he’d be a fool not to snatch up and take as he nearly fucking proposed to you in the middle of the sanctuary like an idiot, not knowing at all how a person that pissed people off for a living was loved by a woman who was the definition of pure.

because how the fuck did an angry dunce like him, get lucky with an angel like you?

“oh my god that dumbass kid is climbin’ the fence again— oi!”

katsuki quickly kissed your cheek before flying to the other side of the sanctuary, you doubling over in laughter as you watched him fight and tug and pull, your student not budging at all whatsoever and the rest of the kids laughing at how red katsuki was getting in the face.

“miss pretty!” milo tugged at your overalls, and you looked down to see him holding up his open journal, a cute wobbly sketch of a koi fish on the page as he smiled big. “i drew it! do you like it?!”

“wow milo!” you gushed, crouching down to his level and taking the journal, examining his artwork. “this is beautiful my love! see? i knew you could do it!”

“thank youuu!” he responded sweetly, his little cheeks blushing as he looked at you like he had another thing he wanted to say.

you tilted your head. “do you wanna tell me something else?”

“yeaaahhh.” he dragged. “please love my dad… i know he’s mean but— but he doesn’t mean it!”

your eyes softened as milo looked down at his shoes.

“and love me too… because i want you to be my new mommy…”

you quickly blinked back tears as to not alarm milo, surprisingly successful at preventing them from slipping down your face.

“i do love your dad honey… and you. the both of you i love so so much.”

he beamed. “really?!”

you nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “and i thought i was already your mommy milo!”

the little man gasped and flung his arms around your neck.

“YAAAYYY!” he yelled. “miss pretty is my mommy! i have a mommy now!”

ever since you came into katsuki’s life, his way of living materialized into something completely different.

because now instead of his house being plain and boring and organized from top to bottom without a single thing out of place— it was warm now… happy. and never went a day without smelling like cookies and vanilla as you and katsuki baked with milo any chance you could, set up more pillow forts and tents with starry ceilings, and slept with milo in his room as he snored content in his little bed, you sprawled directly on top of katsuki like he always had you as you both every day intended to leave after putting his son to rest, but ending up falling asleep on the floor each time.

the three of you were a little family.

and katsuki didn’t know why he hated messes so much in the first place.

because mess signified that something had been there, something sunny and tender, something that signified family as you peppered kisses over both your boys’ faces everyday and katsuki drowning you in his rough ones— your man squeezing you so tight all of the time and anywhere, as milo wasn’t just his son now but yours too as you took him to the park or to the aquarium on your days off, the three of you gently living as both of milo’s small hands were occupied now instead of just one.

katsuki’s life looked like it had been generously cherished and lived in for a change.

and katsuki bakugo loved messes.

so as long as they were from you.

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @umemiaa @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @drftnzume @k0z3me @k4zivy @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @tinyray-lovesfood @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @blu3-l0v3r @rose-tinted-kalopsia @runfrme @unofficialsapphire @dee-writes-anime @megumisluciouslashes @peachyaeger @yourstru1y4ever

[juniebjonesin]

𑣲 kiss n' tell ⋮ 36k+

❝ thunderbolts!bucky x PR!assisstant!reader ❞ ── when the new avengers' image needs repairing after the new york incident, you're tasked with organizing a massive coney island charity carnival. (un)fortunately, one forgotten booth assignment lands bucky barnes in the event's most popular attraction: the kissing booth.

⤷ tags: post thunderbolts (lowk is this a tower fic?), kissing booth, carnival/fair, slow burn, friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, overworked reader, grumpy x sunshine, he falls first AND he falls harder, mutual pining, idiots in love, semi forced proximity, one sided pining until it isnt, some emotional constipation, accidental date, the date was real though, touch starved bucky barnes + soft bucky barnes, domestic yearning, office romance, workaholic!reader, author has journalism geek speak, career burnout, acts of service love language, what if someone noticed as a love language, softness after survival, brief mentions of trauma/ptsd, feelings confession, lots of kisses (its titled accurately) fluff with a happy ending ⋮ warnings: 18+ MDNI! valentina is a toxic boss #freemygirlmel, coercive workplace environment, eventual smut, p in v, unprotected sex, thunderbolts bucky is a softdom ill die on this hill, reader is a pillow princess #notsorry, specific tags to be added in each part!

˗ˏˋ ꒰ june’s note ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ── BDAY FIC!!!! you guys dont understand... i LOVE this bucky i was literally like so obsessed with him i dreamed about him i thought about him while looking at the sunset i want to marry him forever and ever and ever. i hope you like it and as always thank you for reading!

── chapters + extras 💋 part one ⋮ one for the money... 💋 part two ⋮ two for the show... 💋 part three ⋮ three to get ready... now go, go go!

tag list › comment/inbox to be added!

@swiggityswoody52 @lenaeheartslove @cherrypetals0 @elliestwoleftfingerss @phantom-wolf-girl @phoenix-in-writing @prizzylicious @mistressofallthingsgeeky @katfaceu @scarlettluvr @yolo4life24 @tranquilshepherdenclave @pennyl4n3 @djournal-s @bluenoisexoxo @cuddly-pebble @yapeez @tendertulip @bethlaryssam

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

The Long Way Home

You fell through time by accident — and now you're stuck in 1943, watching Bucky Barnes charm every woman in the room but you. So you start to wonder: did the man you left behind ever really want you, or just keep what was convenient? He's about to answer that. He just doesn't know it yet.

◌⃘ Pairing: 1940s!Bucky Barnes x nurse!Reader and present!Bucky Barnes x scientist!reader

◌⃘ Word count: 2.5K

◌⃘ Warnings: angst, because I don't feel well and this is how my brain works when I'm sick.

The small dance hall in Brooklyn smelled of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume, and you had been standing against the back wall for the better part of an hour, watching the man you loved fall in love with everyone but you.

Not that he knew you. That was the cruel logic of it all. To Sergeant James Barnes, you were nobody. Nothing but a nurse he'd been introduced to twice, and forgotten both times. A face in a crowd of pretty faces, but by no means the prettiest.

You had stopped being able to feel your own face somewhere around the third song, no longer pretending to smile.

"You gonna dance, or you gonna be a wallflower all night?"

You turned. One of the girls— Doris, or maybe it it was Lilian, you weren't paying attention— was smiling at you with the social grace that women in this time seemed to possess effortlessly. They belonged in a way you never would. You gave her something that was probably a smile.

"I'm alright watching."

"Watching him, you mean." She followed your gaze to where Bucky stood in his dress uniform, left arm braced against a pillar as he leaned down to murmur something into the ear of a redhead who laughed like he'd hung the moon. "Half the room's watching him. Don't feel bad, sweets. He's real generous with the old charm."

Generous! You laughed to yourself, that was certainly one word for it.

You'd been in 1943 for eleven days. Eleven days since the machine in your lab had done whatever it was that it did. There had been a surge of power, a blinding flash of light and the smell of ozone that still hadn't left your nostrils. You had woken up staring at a strange sky, in an alley between two buildings you didn't recognize.

Eleven days later, you had talked your way into a nursing post with the competence that only came with training from a program that wouldn't exist for another sixty years.

The first time you had seen him, you hadn't been able to move. You almost walked past without a backward glance. The thing that had gotten your attention wasn't how he looked, it was his voice. It hadn't changed. What had changed was how freely he laughed

It was all you could think of as you lay on a narrow rented bed and stared up at the ceiling, thinking: He's here. He's alive and whole and here, and he has no idea who I am.

You'd thought seeing this version of him would be a comfort.

You'd been so stupid.

So there you were, contemplating your existence, a woman out of your own time. And you realized that the thing nobody told you about time travel was that it was mostly waiting.

You had managed to track down a physicist— a nervous, but brilliant scientist who was well ahead of his time and happened to work for Stark Industries and liked to carry out experiments in his basement.

When you'd described the machine, he had gone very pale and very quiet and then become very interested. He offered to help you. He thought it would take weeks. He speculated a great many things, and every one of them required you to stay close to the war effort, close to the base, close— by fate or by accident— to Bucky-freaking-Barnes.

You should have quit, but you needed the money and a place to stay. So you saw him. Constantly. At the mess, in the corridors, at these godforsaken dances the other nurses dragged you to. And every time, the same knife went in.

Because Bucky Barnes flirted with everyone.

You watched him do it like a case study you had a vested interest in. In a way, you did.

He flirted with Lilian and Doris and Elizabeth, with Marian and Margaret and even Sandy. He flirted with the girl who sold cigarettes and the middle-aged woman who ran your boarding house who flushed like a school girl every time he tipped his cap.

He flirted with the same energy that other men breathed— unconsciously, effortlessly and with enthusiasm. With the whole world except you.

With you he was polite. God, the politeness was utterly devastating. Every 'ma'am.' Every 'miss.' Every nod.

Once— and only once— he caught you looking at him for too long across the mess hall and you had noticed a flicker on his face. It wasn't interest, no you knew his expressions well enough, it was something closer to confusion. Almost as though he couldn't quite figure out why this particular nurse kept staring at him like she was drowning.

You'd looked away so fast you'd spilled your coffee.

So here's the thing you could quite wrap your head around. It was the splinter which kept digging it's way deeper. He was still Bucky. Before the fall. Before seventy years of ice and torture. Before his free will had been ripped away. It was still him. The same kind man you loved.

And this man had looked at you and felt nothing.

"You look like you're thinking too hard," Lillian said. "Never a good idea at a dance."

"Sorry." You forced a smile and made yourself relax. "Long shift," you lied with a shrug.

She patted your arm sympathetically and drifted off in the direction of a corporal who had been eyeing her from across the hall. And then you were alone. Again. Listening to Bucky laughing at something across the room, his eyes crinkled and nose scrunched. You had to close your eyes.

In the present, you told yourself, he loves you.

But did he?

This thought was the poison of the past, the reason the past eleven days had hollowed you out and given you reason to doubt. Because you'd met your Bucky broken. You'd met him after— after the Soldier, after the torture, after the long slow work he had done to put himself back together, with therapy and effort and the kind of hard-won stillness that made his rare smiles feel earned. Your Bucky was quiet. He was careful. He loved you the way a man loves the shore after a shipwreck— grateful, fierce, like something he'd been afraid to hope for.

When you thought back, this stillness had always felt like the depth in your relationship. That his quiet devotion was the shape of a man who had survived far too much to be careless with his heart. That when he reached for you in the dark, when he said your name with reverence, when he told you that he loved you, it was the truest thing in him.

Only now you'd seen the before.

Now you'd seen who he was when the world hadn't broken him yet.

And that man— that carefree, radiant, flirtatious man— he wouldn't have looked at you twice. That man had a type, and you were watching him charm her across the dance floor right now, and it most decidedly wasn't you. It was never you.

So what did that make what you had back home?

It was the ugly thought. The one that had been circling your brain in different iterations for the last eleven days.

He's with you because you were there.

Because you'd been kind to him at the worst point of his life.

Because you were willing, and steady, and you'd stayed when staying was hard.

Because a drowning man doesn't check whether the hand pulling him up is the one he'd have chosen.

He grabs what's offered.

You were what was offered. Convenient. Present. Undemanding.

Not chosen. Settled.

You believed it completely, while standing in that dance hall. It sank deep into your bones, like the weight of something you'd always half-known and finally let yourself see.

"You're that nurse."

You startled so badly at his voice that you knocked your purse off the table. Bucky was standing in front of you— right in front of you, close enough that you could smell the pomade and the wool of his uniform. And he was looking at you with that faint, puzzled crease between his brows. He bent down and retrieved your purse without a second thought.

"I— yeah. Sorry. Yes. I'm a nurse."

Brilliant. Very cool. Totally nailed that response. You mentally face palmed yourself.

"You keep looking at me." He said it plainly, without judgement. "All week. At the mess, and now here." He paused, studying your face. "Do I know you? From somewhere? I feel like I oughta, and it's drivin' me half crazy tryna figure it out."

You don't know me yet, was the thought didn't say. You won't know me for another eighty years.

"No," you managed in a flat tone. "You don't know me."

He studied you. And for one horrible, hopeful second you let yourself imagine that something would spark between you. That he would recognize something buried deep inside himself, the one who would one day become the man you loved. That he'd feel it, the way you felt it. The impossible gravity that existed between you.

He didn't. You watched him not feel it. He just gave you a small, courteous, sorry-can't-place-you smile and the last shred of hope shattered in it chest.

"Well," he said. "You alright? You look a little—" he gestured vaguely at all of you, "—pale. Rough night on the ward?"

You laughed dismally. "Something like that."

"You want some air? You look like you want some air."

And there it was. Not attraction. Kindness. The reflexive decency of a good man toward a woman who looked unwell. He'd have offered the same to Doris or Evelyn, to the redhead or the blonde, to anyone really. You knew it, and you took it anyway, because you were weak and you loved him and this was the closest he'd stood to you in eleven days.

Outside, the night was cold and wet and smelled of the harbor. Bucky lit a cigarette, offered you one, seemed unsurprised when you shook your head. For a while neither of you said anything.

"You got somebody?" he asked finally, and your heart lurched dangerously. "Back home, I mean. You got that look. Like half of you is somewhere else."

You laughed and it came out wrecked.

"Yeah," you said. "I've got somebody."

"He treat you right?"

He loves me like a man loves the thing that saved him, you thought. And I don't know anymore if that's the same as loving me for me.

"I don't know," you said honestly. "I used to think so. Now I'm not sure he'd have picked me. If things had been different. If he'd had… options. I think maybe I was just… the one who was there."

Bucky was quiet a moment. When you looked at him he was frowning— not the usual puzzled frown, it was something more thoughtful.

"That's a helluva thing to carry," he said. "You wanna know what I think?"

He looked at you, barely waiting for you to answer before he continued.

"I flirt with every dame in that room. You've seen me, don't pretend you haven't." He gave you a rueful half-smile. "It's easy. Don't cost me a thing. You smile, they smile, everybody has a nice night, nobody gets hurt. It's—" he searched for the right word, "—it's cheap. You understand? It's the cheapest thing I got."

You stared at him.

"You know what's not cheap?" he went on, looking out into the night. "The stuff that costs you something— and that's not the girl you charm across a dance hall. That's the one you'd still want around when there's nothing charming left in you. When you're scared, or sick, or done things you can't take back."

He exhaled smoke. "A fella who's had it easy, he'll flirt with anybody. Don't mean anything. But a fella who's been through the wringer, and he still reaches for one particular person—" he shrugged, "—seems to me that's the only kind that counts. The rest's just… noise."

You couldn't breathe.

He didn't know how deeply what he'd said had resonated with you. He couldn't have. He was just a kind man being kind to a sad woman outside a dance hall, offering the accidental wisdom of someone who'd one day live every word of it. But he'd reached across eighty years and removed the splinter from your heart.

A fella who's been through the wringer, and he still reaches for one particular person.

That was your Bucky. Not a drowning man grabbing for the nearest hand. A man who had been through the absolute worst the world could do. A man who had every reason to be closed and cold and careful with the little warmth he had left. And instead who spent it, deliberately, expensively, on you.

Not because you were convenient. Because when everything cheap had been burned out of him, you were what remained. You were the thing that counted.

The flirtation you'd been grieving wasn't the love you knew. It never had been. It was the noise. And your Bucky had gone silent with everyone else in the world and still turned, in the dark, toward you.

"Thank you," you whispered.

Bucky looked faintly bewildered. "For what? I didn't do anything."

"You'd be surprised," you said, tears slipping down your cheeks before laughing at the way he was hastily patting his pockets for a handkerchief with the flustered gallantry of a man way out of his depth

And for the first time in eleven days the ache in your chest had somewhere to go.

The scientist sent for you nine days later. You had pulled yourself away from the pub, one last glance at the Sergeant before you scurried away under the cover of darkness.

The machine hummed and the basement reeked of ozone. Suddenly your heart was pounding and you were looking back at the strange world you were leaving. At the war that hadn't broken him fully yet. At the still charming boy who would become, through unspeakable years, the quiet man who loved you.

I'm coming home baby, you told him, across the space-time continuum. I finally understand what I'm coming home to.

With that vow, you stepped into the light.

When you opened your eyes it was day and you were back in your lab, surrounded by your things and there— there was already someone crossing the room toward you at a dead run. Someone with a metal arm and a face raw with grief and terror that lasted twenty days. Someone who caught you and held you like the shore holds the shipwreck.

"You're back," Bucky said into your hair, over and over, wrecked and reaching only for you. "You're back, you're back, you're back."

"I'm back," you said. "I know exactly where I am."

[sailortongue]

DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE

pairing: valko x bunny-hybrid!reader

summary: tired of your partners being unable to keep up with your high libido during your heats, you turn to an online matchmaking service for hybrids in-cycle. when the algorithm pairs you with a gorgeous wolf hybrid boasting a 98.6% compatibility match between you, your prey instincts scream in protest, but his predator stamina may prove to be exactly what you've been looking for

wc: 2.5k

content: nsfw, piv, unprotected sex, scent kink, heat cycle, creampie, knotting

an: recently hit 2k followers which is crazyyy

Ding! The sudden digital chime cut through the quiet of your room. Your laptop was still glowing with the homepage of KnotAlone, a matching service for hybrids entering their cycles. Even now, your cheeks burned thinking of the exhaustive questionnaire you’d submitted— specifically the humiliating admission that even other rabbit hybrids didn’t satisfy your libido. 

You dropped what you were doing immediately in favor of eagerly reading the match report. “Valko Ao,” you read slowly, scrolling down the profile that the website claimed you had a 98.6% compatibility match with. 

Your eyebrows shot to your hairline. Not only were you compatible, but numbers like that usually indicated an ideal mate. There was just one glaring concern on his profile: he was a wolf hybrid. 

Your inner prey instincts shrieked in protest. Yet, as you stared at the attached photo, your throat went dry. With his sharp jawline, striking eyes, and furry burgundy ears poking through his hair, the man was undeniably gorgeous. 

Worse, his profile had a warning listed: Lupine genes present extreme rut cycles. Past cycles managed via pharmaceuticals due to high stamina projections. 

So, he’s never had a partner, you thought. A pent-up predator didn’t bode well, especially not to a bunny. Even so, according to the warning, he had the exact untapped reservoir of energy that you needed to get through your insatiable heats. It certainly didn’t hurt that he was breathtakingly easy on the eyes. 

A sudden, sharp throb low in your belly shattered your hesitation. The early waves of your heat were beginning to roll in, warming your skin and sending a restless twitch through your elongated ears. You didn’t have the luxury of time, especially not to second-guess the man that, admittedly, exacerbated the effects of your impending heat.

Shifting your finger across the touchpad of your laptop, you slammed the Accept Pairing button before the more logical side of your brain could talk you out of it. 

In an instant, the screen flashed with a bold, celebratory notification: MATCH CONFIRMED!

 A soft gasp escaped your lips. He had already accepted. Before your mind could fully process that little fact, a new interface slid into view. 

KnotAlone Chatroom: Valko and You

The text bubble at the bottom of the screen was already bouncing, the three dots doing their usual rhythmic dance before disappearing, replaced by a message that was surprisingly warm for an apex predator. 

Valko Ao: Hello! So glad you accepted the match. To be honest, I was worried my profile statistics would scare people off. 

You blinked at the screen, intrigued. His message was devoid of the growling dominance and arrogance you had come to expect from predator hybrids. Another message came through before you formulated a response. 

Valko Ao: Your profile mentioned needing someone who can match your stamina, right? That works out perfectly. My doctors always insisted that my rut cycles are too intense for a standard pairing, so I’ve just been using suppressants up until now. I’d love to help you through your heat if you’ll have me. When does your cycle start?”

You bit your lip, fingers hovering over the keyboard as a flush crawled up your neck. It was one thing to fill out personal info on a questionnaire, but it was another to openly share with another person.

You: within the next two days at least. Already feeling the warning signs :/

Valko Ao: that’s fine! I can clear my schedule right away.

His easy, accommodating response did wonders for your nerves. Over the next two days, the anticipated dread of your impending heat transformed into something entirely different. Valko texted you constantly, sending jokes, asking about your personal preferences and hobbies, and sharing bits of his own life. By the time the warning signs had become full-blown symptoms, you found that you were genuinely excited to meet him, even if the circumstances weren’t the most ideal.

You woke on the third morning drenched in sweat, your skin hypersensitive to every little touch. Your panties were already soaked and sticking to your swollen folds. It was pitiful, really, how quickly you were made a slave to your own biology, no more able to fight it than you were able to count the stars in the sky. 

With a shaky hand, you reached for your phone on the nightstand, shooting Valko a simple text, followed by your address.

You: I need you

He replied almost instantly, informing you that he was on his way. With a groan, you dropped your phone onto the bed, curling into yourself and wishing you could sleep away the scorching need coursing through your body. It felt like mere minutes had passed when a knock echoed through your apartment.

You stumbled from your bed to the door, unlocking it and swinging it open to see Valko standing in the hallway, his ears twitching almost nervously. Before he could even say hello, he froze. The combination of seeing you in such a vulnerable state and smelling the sweet, heady scent that seeped from your apartment had rendered him speechless, his mouth watering and his cock already hardening in his pants. 

He swallowed thickly. For a fraction of a second, Valko tried to hold onto his manners, but the more of you he inhaled, the more he felt like a wolf rather than a man. He opened his mouth to greet you, fighting every urge to pin you to the wall of the entryway and take you there, but his throat constricted and his body locked up.

You could see in the rigid set of his posture that he was at least trying to be a gentleman, but you didn’t want a gentleman at the moment. You needed him rough, and you needed him now.

While he was still trying to pull himself together in the doorway, you tugged him in by the fabric of his shirt, the door slamming closed behind him. He stumbled forward, his polite composure crumbling to dust under your touch. You practically dragged him through your apartment to your bedroom, and his hand hovered over your waist.

“I’m Valko,” he finally managed, his voice raspy as his eyes locked onto the way you were already pulling your shirt over your head.

You giggled at that, and Valko thought it was the prettiest sound he had ever heard.

“I sure hope so.” He flushed, embarrassment crawling up his spine. Obviously you knew who he was. You wouldn’t have let him in otherwise. He blamed it on your intoxicating scent. It was muddling his brain and making it impossible to focus on anything that wasn’t you. You, who was now wrapping your arms around his shoulders and mouthing at his neck, pressing your body flush against his.

Before he could even think, his strong arms landed on your hips, pushing you back slightly to make space. You pouted, and he suddenly felt like a world-class villain.

“Easy, sweetheart. I’m gonna help you,” he soothed, pushing you backwards until the bed hit the back of your knees. You fell onto the plush on the mattress, bouncing slightly. Your breath quickened. Through the haze of your arousal, you were vaguely aware that you had invited a predator into your home. You were also acutely aware that even the worst of your heat cycles had never affected you as much as the hulking man that was guiding your pliant body to lie against the pillows. 

“So pretty,” he murmured, his hands ghosting over your bare skin, his fingertips skimming the lacy fabric of your bra. It was almost painful, the way his cock was straining against his pants.

You placed your hand atop his, guiding it to cup your breast. “You don’t have to be sweet, you know?”

He locked eyes with you, searching for any hesitation or reservations, and found none, only pure want and need. He surged forward, capturing your lips with his. It was messy, all teeth and tongue and unrestrained instinct.

You arched your body into his, your hips grinding against the bulge in his slacks. He groaned into the kiss, his hands shooting down to hook into the waistband of your shorts and panties, pulling both down in one firm tug. Your bra followed shortly after, leaving you entirely bare beneath him. God, you were a fucking vision.

The whimper he let out was pathetic, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when a pretty little bunny was completely offering herself to him. Your hands were everywhere, sliding beneath his shirt, stroking his ears, palming his leaking cock. Wherever you could reach.

He reluctantly pulled away from you once more, just long enough to strip his own clothing. His impressive build had you salivating, and your weeping pussy clenched around nothing in anticipation as he resumed his spot above you, your legs on either side of his hips. 

“Please, Valko, please I need you,” you practically sobbed, staring up at him with watery eyes. Valko’s heart thundered in his chest, a possessive pang shooting through his chest. 

It was too much. Your desperate pleading, your legs spread for him, your cunt on display just for him. It was maddening. He lined himself up with your pulsing hole, and you keened, eager to finally be filled, pushing your hips up to force him deeper.

You were dripping, his thick cock stretching you with ease as he sunk all the way to the hilt. You moaned loudly, your fingers clawing into the sheets. He was so big you swore you could feel him in your throat.

“So tight,” he groaned deeply, nearly growling. He was already panting and he’d only just begun. “You feel so— ngh—good.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him into you like you never wanted him to leave. “More, Valko, pleasepleaseplease,” you begged, urging him to move, to touch you, anything that would quell the wanton need that radiated from your core. 

His hips snapped into yours, the blunt head of his cock molding your insides around him. It took everything he had not to cum prematurely. Your pussy gripped him like a vice, and he was sure this was as close to heaven as a man could get. 

The delicious drag of his cock had you beyond words, only able to cry out with pleasure every time his hips met yours. Your breath was ragged as he pounded into your slick hole, and your fingernails left red claw marks on his shoulders that he would later marvel at in the mirror.

“So perfect,” Valko breathed. “Made just for me.” His face was flushed a magnificent shade of his red, and his eyes were heavily lidded, drawn to the juncture where your bodies met, your slick leaking around his cock and soaking the bedsheets. 

You cried out his name, the edge of pleasure so tantalizingly close. His name fell from your lips like a mantra, spurring him on, his thrusts losing their rhythm and becoming frantic. He was already swelling at the base, but he’d be damned if he embarrassed himself and finished before you. Inexperienced though he was, he wasn’t a total prude. 

He brought his thumb to circle your neglected clit, sending pleasure shooting up your spine. You squealed, arching into his touch, your pussy spasming tightly around him as your vision went white.

Valko gasped, his own release overtaking him. Hot spurts of cum flooded your fluttering walls, and his swollen knot kept it all plugged snugly inside you and kept you connected to each other. 

Your vision was hazy, and for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, you actually felt sated, at least for the time being until your body again demanded more of him.

Quiet settled over the room, save for the twin sounds of your heavy breaths. Valko grinned broadly, a chuckle rumbling through his chest as he dropped his forehead onto yours, nuzzling his nose against your face. Behind him, his heavy tail thumped against the mattress.

It was comforting to be wrapped in such strong arms and taken care of, but the peace was short-lived; your body, in its current state, was already squirming beneath him for friction.

Valko groaned deeply, still sensitive from his release only minutes prior, but the thick smell of your pheromones was pulling him into renewed lust right along with you.

Whether it was with your knees pressed to your chest, from behind where he could watch your cute little tail twitch, or holding you on his lap to fuck up into you, he couldn't get enough of you or the sinful sounds you made when he was buried deep inside you. It was hours before he collapsed onto the bed beside you, his cum dripping down your thighs and a satisfied grin on his face as he took in how thoroughly wrecked you looked all because of him.

As your breathing finally slowed, Valko pulled you into his embrace, clawed fingers stroking up and down your back soothingly. “Are you okay? Was that alright?” he asked, his voice rough and vibrating against your skin.

“I’m perfect,” you rasped, burying your face in his chest, your heart swelling at his genuine care. “Better than perfect. I can see why your profile had a warning on it,” you laughed, recalling the words of caution on his profile.

He let out a soft, pleased sound, his arms tightening around you as if he had absolutely no intention of leaving the bed—or your life—anytime soon. It was like your scent had completely rewired the primitive part of his brain, the part that was now claiming you as his own despite the brief acquaintance. Though, to be fair, you had done more than what typical acquaintances do. He didn't think he could be satisfied being just your heat partner.

A flush crawled up his neck as he debated with himself, his wolf ears twitching nervously, but there was no time like the present. “That’s good. I’m glad I didn't disappoint.” He hesitated, the words he truly wanted to say sticking in his throat. It didn't help that you were looking up at him with wide, inquisitive eyes. Now that his more animalistic side had been satisfied and your scent wasn't sending him into a frenzy, he could take the time to admire just how delicate your features were.

“I know we still have a few days left to get through, and I’m not going anywhere, but when this is over, would you want to go on a proper date with me?”

His words had barely even registered before a bright smile lit up your face, and sweet giggles spilled from your lips. You nodded, your long ears shifting with the movement. 

Valko grinned widely, his sharp teeth on display, both relieved and overjoyed that this had the potential to become more than just a means to satisfy your respective biological instincts. A playful glint flashed in his eyes as he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead, already planning where to take you. His mind filled with images of you—dressed up all pretty and soft and entirely his.

[zaynezone]

U + ME = <3 (ft. Zayne, Sylus, & Valko)

synopsis: the reason why you love them pairings (separate): Zayne x f!reader, Sylus x f!reader, Valko x f!reader content: literally just fluff!!, mentions of throwing up in Zaynes'

Zayne

Your whole head feels like it's stuffed with cotton. Moving even an inch makes you whine in pain, nausea settling deep in your stomach, skin nearly on fire.

It's basically hell.

"You should eat something." Zayne's cool hand settles on your forehead, and you immediately sigh in relief.

"M'just gonna throw it up again..." You complain, squirming into his touch. He hums, keeping his hand nice and cool as he presses it into your cheek.

"You might not. You need to give your body some energy to get better." He starts adjusting the pillows, so you reluctantly sit up, despite the immediate wave of vertigo.

"Open." He murmurs, blowing on a spoon and holding it up to your mouth. You drink the soup, humming at the really good taste.

"Did you make this?" You ask after swallowing, somehow already feeling better. He nods, and just now do you notice the dark circles under his eyes.

"It's a family recipe. I called my mother for it." He feeds you another spoonful, and you see the small squares of orange in it, raising a brow at him. He huffs and, as if demonstrating, scoops a portion of soup without any of the carrots.

When the bowl is drained, he helps you drink some water, then runs a cool damp cloth over your forehead.

"You take such good care of me." You mumble, already starting to feel drowsiness settle into you. He hums, pressing a kiss to your burning forehead as he tucks you in.

"I'll always take care of you. I promise."

Sylus

"It doesn't hurt that bad."

You say it for what's probably the fourth time, but the knit in Sylus's brows doesn't budge. He studies the cut on your cheek carefully, checking it's depth and frowning when you wince.

"You're lucky you don't need stitches." He pulls away to set up some supplies and you find yourself immediately missing the warmth of his hands on your face.

"Do you think it'll leave a cool scar?" You try to catch his gaze, but he stays focused on what he's doing, returning to gently clean the wound.

"Hopefully not." He murmurs quietly, whispering an apology when you wince from the sting.

"It's just a small cut, Sylus. I'll be fine." The soft tone of voice is necessary given the worry on his face, the slight fear in his eyes at the sight of your spilled blood. A reminder that you could be taken from him far too soon.

"I know. Perhaps you should be more careful next time, sweetie." He finishes bandaging it, kissing you gently as a sign he's done.

"I will be. Plus, I have my own personal nurse to take care of me if I do, so I'll be fine!" Your teasing smile makes him shake his head, pulling you into his lap with a grin.

"I don't believe a nurse would treat you the way I do." As if to prove his point, he bites your bare shoulder, making you help.

"Ow! What are you doing, trying to suck my blood or something?" You smack his arm, making him grin for the first time tonight.

"I should be allowed a taste as payment, don't you agree?"

Valko

"Are you cold?"

Valko holds you closer, though you have no idea why he could be asking that, since he'd already bundled you in your hoodie, then his hoodie, and then a heavy blanket from his car.

"Not at all. Are you sure you aren't?" You gesture to his bare arms, courtesy of the sleeveless shirt he'd donned for tonight. He shoots you a toothy grin, leaning in to kiss your nose.

"Of course not. I run hot. Plus, we're in my natural habitat. I'm used to it."

Indeed, when Valko had suggested camping, you'd been excited for a multitude of reasons. One of which was seeing him so relaxed out in nature, something you rarely get to see.

"Do you want a smore?" He's already getting it ready, roasting the marshmallow to perfection and carefully assembling. Of course, the square of chocolate is massive, but you can't complain when he presents it to you with a proud grin.

You move to unwrap your arm from all the layers so you can take it from him, but he doesn't let you, instead holding it up to your mouth so he can feed it to you.

"Mmm! It's good!" You mumble around warm marshmallow and chocolate. He shoots you a toothy grin, one that still makes your heart stutter.

He makes a few more, mostly feeding them to you and eating them when you protest that you've had too many.

The warmth of the fire and fullness of your stomach has your eyelids feeling heavy. Despite the dark forest, you feel perfectly safe with Valko. When you rest against his solid form, you know he isn't going anywhere.

"Go to sleep. I'm right here."

[nanaqinli]

⋆˚꩜｡❤︎ the morning after

sum. texts with the lads men the next morning after having s3x.

notes. this smau is suggestive/smutty. soo MDNI. Also just to clarify the relationship with each Li here:

Zayne- established relationship.

Rafayel- one night stand/friends.

Caleb- first time/established relationship.

Sylus- one night stand/"enemies".

Valko- first time with rut.

Xavier- helping each other after accidentally consuming aphrodisiacs.

didnt change their contact name for convenience. i am planning to write their encounters bcs it sounds fun, no promises thooo. Enjoy nonetheless.

[syluses]

My hopium levels 📈📈📈

[zaynezone]

zayne who licks your fingers clean after youve cum all over them. he was busy with work. so you fingered yourself in your shared bed while he typed late into the night. when you finish, he grabs your wrist and sucks your fingers clean like it was no big deal and just continues working while you then drift off to sleep.

In your defense, you were trying to be quiet.

The quiet typing coming from Zayne's side of the bed doesn't disturb you, and usually it's soothing background noise for you to fall asleep to. But tonight? You're simply too needy.

The moment a soft whimper leaves you, the typing stutters. He pauses, and you can feel his eyes on you, but then he continues, and so do you.

It's not nearly as good as when Zayne does it, but the pleasure begins to build, making you whimper quietly. You try to muffle your moans when you cum, though your legs trembling under the blanket probably gives you away.

Not that Zayne really minds.

He reaches down, cool hand grasping your wrist and holding your slick fingers up to his mouth, sliding them into his mouth and humming at the taste. You can only stare, awestruck, as he completely licks them clean.

"Goodnight." Is all he says once he's finished, wiping the spit off with his hand.

"...Yeah. Goodnight babe."

[kentluv3r]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 (MINORS DNI) thinking ‘bout STEVE ROGERS who, despite seeming like an innocent man who doesn’t have a lot of sex, is really really good at sex.

he uses his strength to always hold your legs on his shoulders or hoist you up against the wall. he makes sureeee you keep eye contact on him whenever he’s deep in your walls.

“keep your eyes on me darling.” he’d say in that soft voice as his balls are slapping against your clit with each rough thrust.

he’s so gentle with his dominance too :( he pulls your hair but doesn’t yank, he picks up your head but doesn’t force it up, he prods his fingers into your mouth but doesn’t shove. he’s never mean, even in his most stressful moments, the most he’ll call you is “a brat” and “cock slut” and even that is pushing it.

call him captain and he’ll be bending you over the counter, fucking your hole until the only thing you can say is captain. when he doesn’t shave and he lets his beard grow— oh he eats your ass alright, making sure you get that sensation of his beard all up your cheeks and thighs, spitting in your hole and toying with it with his fingers.

“gotta stretch this pretty girl out.” he says as his tongue swirls your tight hole. “shhhh, I know baby doll, just lemme do it and I’ll be in you in no time.”

he knows exactly how to make you cum each and every time. and he gets real frustrated if he can’t make you cum… he just wants his pretty girl to be okay, that’s all!

masterlist is here! click here for more!

ⓘ KENTLUV3R’S WORK. all my fanfics (not the characters) is my very own, coming from my own efforts and my time. do not copy my work, rewrite it, shove it through an ai machine and shit out slop, and don’t repost to wattpad/ao3/c.ai!

[honeysucklewatr]

fatal attraction

avengers!bucky x newrecruit!reader

angst | enemies to lovers | jealousy | masterlist

synopsis: he doesn’t have to explicitly say it but you can tell bucky doesn’t like you. he makes your life infinitely harder as the newest recruit. so when he purposefully sabotages your mission, tensions rise because you’re not taking shit from someone that’s not even your superior—no matter how hot he is.

tags: enemies to lovers. angst. hurt!comfort. jealousy. violence. pining. yearning. miscommunication. buckys kinda mean cause he doesn’t know how to handle his emotions. reader is lwk a crashout. eventual smut. rivals who hookup heh.

a/n: first fic of 2026. avengers tower fics are SO back idcc. if you saw me post this yesterday, this is a repost with some more parts added cause i didn’t like it before lol.

the first thing you noticed about bucky barnes was his stature.

the way he carried himself and was sure of his instincts. his huge arms were pretty hard to miss and his piercing blue eyes made you feel a little weak in the knees—until you tried talking to him.

then anger and unresolved sexual frustration was all you felt around him.

the rest of the team was nice, including you on trips out and training with you like you were already a part of the team. treating you like you were in their family.

you’d been there for nearly six months now and bucky continued to act like you didn’t exist. he always hung out around steve so you quickly noticed how close he was to him rather than anyone else. stubborn as ever, you wanted the team to like you, including bucky. so naturally, you thought to befriend both of them and started hanging out with steve and sam more outside of work. steve was entirely a sweetheart and full of smiles, making a huge effort to make you feel welcomed into the team.

bucky, however, he kept his distance from you, trying not to talk much even when he did with others. purposefully keeping conversations short and painfully professional. making sure you weren’t part of any missions he was involved with. you didn’t think much of it, taking his lack of regard to the chin and pretending it didn’t hurt your ego. but as soon as he saw you hanging out with steve alone in the kitchen one late night, he started being entirely cold towards you.

sure, you hadn’t been part of the team for long, but he particularly didn’t like how everyone else accepted you almost immediately. he definitely didn’t like how you always had an answer for everything or how steve always came to your defense.

after six long months of working with the avengers, bucky barnes never warmed up to you. in fact he became hostile, dismissive, and borderline rude when you tried to talk to him. you’d walk up with a file in hand, ready to ask him about it, and he’d actively ignore you or put you off to be someone else’s problem. when you were walking by him in the hallways, it felt like walking past a ghost sometimes just from how faraway he felt from everyone else.

if he wasn’t such a dickhead without reason, you might actually feel bad for him.

then one day, you’re walking with tony and steve, but bucky makes it a point to make sure you see him too. a visible scowl on his face as he approaches you while you’re laughing at something one of them said. oblivious until his shoulder roughly touches yours as he passes by in the corridor, so much so that you nearly topple over. you catch yourself on the wall just to look up and see him staring back at you. he almost seems like he regrets it, but then he gives you a stupid, knowing smile, and you feel anger boil low in your belly.

“should watch your step there, rookie.”

you scoff and brush yourself off, giving him a tight smile right back that only seems to make him grow more annoyed. steve even asks him what his problem was, but he responded with a grunt and a long cold stare like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

over the next couple weeks he gets even more apparent in his attempts to be a nuisance to you. he makes you do extra work, makes sure you get your ass handed to you during training and reminds steve of everyone’s curfew specifically when he knows you were gonna go out that night. smugly watching you as you walk downstairs cause he knew you’d just go back up.

it’s not like you were gonna be nice back either. he’s clearly shown his feelings of distaste, so you stopped tried to coddle a grown man.

but when he purposefully makes you look like a rookie on a mission you were desperately trying to prove yourself on—you’re seeing red. you’re stomping hard across the hall, muttering profanities and threats under your breath. bruce, being the sweet guy he was, is trying to calm you dow but is careful not to touch you.

“hey, i don’t think he meant anything by it,” he starts again, the same excuse he made for bucky in jet ride back to the tower.

you huff and turn to bruce, his expression immediately falls at the disdain on your face.

“he shouldn’t have disarmed me in front of the fucking target.”

bruce nearly cowers in on himself despite being the easiest person to ragebait and you feel horrible for projecting onto him. you soften your tone and sigh deeply, putting a hand on your brow.

“fuck, i’m sorry bruce. i’m just frustrated with this whole situation right now,” biting the inside of your cheek.

he nods in understanding, giving you a knowing, small smile and soft hand on your shoulder.

if anyone could understand uncontrollable anger, it’s bruce. if anyone could hone in on it, it’s also probably bruce, but you’re not looking for logic right now. you’re just pissed off beyond your limits and a certain super soldier who couldn’t help himself on the mission was the cause.

bucky wasn’t even supposed to be on that mission. you literally had the target in your line of sight and had already disarmed and cornered him but bucky claimed that he saw otherwise. he caught you by surprise and toppled you over, pushing your gun out of your hands, practically wheel-barrelling into the guy, which you were sure was for no apparent reason other than to fuck with you. sam and sharon walked in moments later with confusion plastered over their face while you had annoyance over yours. sharon whispered something to sam about you holding them back but clearly loud enough for you to hear.

the heavy footsteps of the culprit ascending down the towers hall makes your blood boil all over. you apologize to bruce again as bucky and steve emerge from the elevator. steve shoots you a knowing glance before slipping away from bucky and joining sam in the kitchen. when you look up, bucky eyes already found yours, dirt across his brow. he says your name once but you ignore him, stomping away and needing distance from him before you got violent.

bucky is hot on your tail, chasing after you until you reach the kitchen, “you can’t avoid this forever.”

you say nothing, zipping off your tactical vest and dropping it on the bench in the hall. he scoffs like he were the one who should be mad.

as if he didn’t just make you look like an amateur in front of the target for the last fucking time.

“hey, i’m talking to you brat!”

that was it. it felt like steam was coming out of your ears at this point and you turn abruptly— tossing your gear at him hard and pushing your palms into his chest.

“what the hell is your problem?!” you yelled, shoving him backwards.

he rolls his eyes and lets you push him. he makes no point to take your hands off of him, but wraps his fingers, metal and flesh, around your wrists. “me? are you dense? you messed up the whole mission running in like the damn rookie you are.”

you feel your face grow warm with anger. you yank your hands from his grip. he’s not your damn superior, even if you were a rookie on the team. steve and tony didn’t give you a choice when you joined the team, it was a no brainer.

“don’t talk to me like i’m a child barnes.”

he glares at you, chest heaving as he leans in closer. his breath his hot against your face.

“well you sure as hell act like one, sweetheart.” his words laced with malice.

you bite back a harsh word and lean your chin upwards, “you weren’t even supposed to be in there, i had him.”

he laughs, “you didn’t have anything but a bullet about to be lodged into your thick skull.”

your grit your teeth, “oh, fuck you.”

“fuck me? fuck you!”

neither of you making any effort to move away, you press on, “quit being such a dick.”

bucky leans even closer, “quit being a brat.”

then you finally shove him away, annoyed at how he copied your words, “you’ve been a dickhead to me for months now all because your ego is inflated since steve let you take the lead on this,” you spat. he looked unamused, so you wanted your words to stick, “but we both know that if you didn’t run point, it would have concluded by now and i would’ve had him.”

having struck a cord she didn’t even know was there, his hands clench on his side, “yeah, you needed someone who actually knows what they’re doing to come with you. i run point cause i’m simply more skilled than you are sweetheart. i have more experience, more tactical knowledge. what are you anyway, twenty-something?”

with a heavy scoff, you berate him, “fuck off, my age means nothing here, we both know i know what the hell i’m doing. the question is, do you old man?”

“old man—” he mutters, without thinking he bites back, “well you’re a spoilt brat who only got here cause of steve.”

incredulous, you laugh, “the joke writes itself barnes.”

his expression falters and he glares at you as he wets his lips, “you’re a damn liability.”

shifting on the balls of your feet to get a closer reach at him, "and you need to stop acting like you know what is best when you clearly don't."

he barks out a humoured laugh, "and you do? you almost got yourself killed, taking unnecessary risks like you’re invincible. sorry sweetheart, you’re gonna get yourself of someone else killed one day."

“stop calling me that,” glaring daggers at him, "nothing was going to happen until you chose to expose everything and blow my cover."

"yeah?" he asks, like he knows something you don't, condescending in his tone, "maybe cause you're acting like a child getting their first bit of freedom. trying to prove yourself for people who couldn’t care less about what you do, sweetheart."

at this point you’re clenching your jaw so hard, it feels like it might break. he always knows how to push your buttons.

you don't think as you put a hand to his chest and he raises his brows in question, but doesn't withdraw from you. without another thought, you grip the fabric over his chest and draw him in fast while dragging your head back to snap it forward—hitting his nose hard with your forehead. to your petty victory, his nose bleeds down his cupids bow, and he extends his tongue just a little further to touch it with the tip before cracking the faintest bit of a smirk.

you lock your ankle at the backs of his knees and drag them forward, grabbing his throat with the other and shoving him down hard. you only get the better of him cause he’s letting you, you know that. still, in that one fluid move you knock him on his ass. but bucky knows you too well—he anticipates what you’d do and anchors his arm around your waist, and dragging you down on top of him. you go down with an oof.

“don’t you ever put me in that position on a mission again barnes. i don’t care how fucking old you are.” pushing yourself up onto your elbows as he doesn’t budge, hooking his fingers into your belt loops.

his other hand snakes to the small of your back and up your spine, sending shivers up. he almost looks proud of you, not even a little angry. you can’t help the slight tremble you have as he pushes you downward so you’re inches away from his face now. the warmth of his body radiating off of him and onto you as you straddles his waist. he wets his lips whilst shamelessly staring at yours and your lips part instinctively at the sight that was turning you on despite it all.

bucky smirks like he can read your mind.

“you play dirty, you know that?” the most smug smile on his face like he wasn’t bleeding all down his neck, “it’s kinda doing it for me.”

you slap his hand off your waist and stand, kicking his shoulder, softer than you could have. pushing off of him, his back goes flat on the ground. surprised by how easily he let you go.

he licks his lips again in that stupidly attractive way and you try not to watch him. when you move away, bucky laughs softly as you walk, ignoring how you calling him a “pervert,” under your breath.

sam hears the commotion and comes lightly jogging out of the kitchen where steve had gone into, seeing bucky spawled out on his back. bucky is grinning like an idiot with his head slightly lifted off the ground as he watches you walk away. the dull clicks of your shoes echo as you storm off with a little bounce that showcased your annoyance. sam shifts his eyes from down the hall, back to bucky and back to you again as though he were putting together the situation at hand.

sam scratches at his head and sighs, "you need to leave that woman alone barnes. i swear, one day you're both gonna tear each other's throats out."

with genuine reluctance, bucky starts tearing his gaze away from the sway of your hips and makes a hum of acknowledgement. once you’re out of his view, he drops his head against the floor with a soft thud. the sound of you slamming your door shut echoes far enough for them to hear it.

a ridiculously handsome smile still plastered across his face, bucky sits up.

“yeah? you really think so?”

🏷️ add yourself to the taglist

a/n: name something you’d like yo wife to do to yo face?

[tidesofrafayel]

“If You Walk Away”

Sylus × Reader | Angst | Breakup

inspired by an actual break up i had once lolz

🐦‍⬛ - can someone tell me how you do the little banner thingys above the “read more” line? :(( and the gradient in text? you guys are so cool i’m jealous

—

The key slid into the lock with a click that sounded impossibly loud in the quiet hallway. You stood outside the apartment for almost a full minute before forcing yourself to turn it.

The scent of cedar and expensive cologne greeted you first, familiar enough that your chest tightened before you’d even stepped inside. Everything looked exactly as you’d left it that morning. The lights in the living room were dim. Music played softly from somewhere deeper in the apartment. The city glowed beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting silver streaks across the hardwood floor.

Sylus was standing with his back to you, one hand resting against the glass.

“You missed dinner,” he said without turning around.

“I know.”

“I kept it warm.”

“…I’m sorry.”

He hummed once, almost absentmindedly.

“I assumed work ran late.”

You swallowed.

“It wasn’t work.”

Silence settled over the room.

Not the comfortable silence the two of you had shared countless times before—not the kind that came from simply existing together.

This one pressed against your lungs until breathing became work.

Sylus finally turned. His crimson eyes found yours almost immediately. One look was all it took. Something inside him shifted. Not dramatically. Not visibly enough that anyone else would’ve noticed. But you knew him. He knew.

“You’ve been crying.”

Your hand instinctively brushed beneath your eyes.

“I—”

“You don’t have to lie.”

His voice remained level.

Calm.

Gentle.

Which somehow made this infinitely worse.

“I’ve been thinking for a long time.”

“I know.”

Your head snapped up.

“You… know?”

“I’ve known for weeks.”

The words stole the air from your lungs.

Sylus crossed the room slowly until only a few feet separated the two of you.

“I’ve watched you hesitate before kissing me.”

His voice never rose.

“I’ve watched you unlock your phone, read my messages, and set it back down before answering. You used to feel it when I got close enough to watch you.”

He paused.

“You’ve stopped telling me about your day.”

Another pause.

“You don’t reach for my hand anymore unless I reach first.”

You felt tears threatening again.

“I notice everything.”

Of course he did. He always had. You remembered once joking that nothing escaped him. You hadn’t realized then how terrifying that could be.

“I kept telling myself I was imagining it.”

His gaze drifted toward the dining table.

Two plates.

Still waiting.

“I thought maybe you were exhausted,” A quiet laugh escaped him. “Then I thought perhaps I hadn’t been present enough.”

His fingers brushed the back of one of the dining chairs.

“So I started leaving work earlier.” He smiled faintly. “I canceled meetings.”

Your heart cracked, “I know.”

“I started cooking more.”

“I know.”

“I bought that tea you mentioned liking months ago.”

“I know.”

“I even watched that ridiculous reality show you laughed at.”

His smile lingered for only a second before disappearing, “I thought if I gave you more pieces of myself…”

He looked back at you.

“…you’d stop slipping away.”

A tear escaped despite your best efforts.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know.”

Every answer was soft. Never angry. Never accusing.

Just… Acceptance.

“I didn’t want this to happen.”

“I know.”

“I still love you.”

“I know.”

The room blurred through your tears.

“I just…”

Your voice cracked.

“I don’t know who I am anymore.”

Sylus didn’t interrupt. He simply waited. Giving you the space to find the words.

“I feel like…” You laughed weakly through another tear. “Somewhere along the way, I stopped being myself.”

You pressed your palms against your eyes.

“I don’t know when it happened.”

“You’ve been disappearing.”

His words were so quiet you almost didn’t hear them.

You lowered your hands.

“What?”

“You’ve been disappearing.”

He stepped closer.

“So slowly that I don’t think you noticed.”

His hand lifted toward your face before hesitating.

“…May I?”

You nodded.

His fingertips brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear with the same tenderness they’d always carried.

“I kept trying to pull you back.”

His thumb rested against your cheek.

“But I was pulling you toward me…”

His expression softened.

“…instead of helping you find yourself.”

The kindness nearly destroyed you.

“Please…” you whispered.

“Don’t make this so easy.”

A sad smile appeared.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“No.”

He shook his head once.

“I’m making it gentle.”

You let out a broken laugh that dissolved into another sob, “I almost wish you’d yell at me.”

“I’ve thought about it.”

Your eyes widened.

“I imagined asking why I wasn’t enough,” His gaze drifted to the floor. “I imagined asking what I could’ve done differently.”

A long silence followed.

“But none of those questions would change what’s happening.”

He looked back at you, “And I refuse to make the person I love feel guilty for telling me the truth.”

You stared at him.

How could someone make heartbreak sound so beautiful?

“You deserve better than this.”

He smiled sadly.

“You don’t get to decide what I deserve.”

The words surprised even him. A tiny crack. The first one.

“I chose you.” His voice was quieter now. “I’d choose you again.”

“I know.”

“But loving someone…” He took a slow breath. “…doesn’t mean they owe you forever.”

Another tear slid down your cheek.

“I promised you forever.”

“You meant it.”

“I did.”

“I know.”

His thumb caught another tear before it could fall.

“You kept every promise you were capable of keeping.”

Your breathing became uneven.

“I feel like I’m breaking your heart.”

“You are.”

The honesty made you freeze.

“But heartbreak isn’t a crime.”

His hand slipped away from your face.

“It’s proof that what we had mattered.”

You closed the distance without thinking. Your arms wrapped around him. For one perfect second…

Nothing had changed.

He held you exactly as he always did. One hand against your back. The other cradling the back of your head. Safe. Warm. Home.

You buried your face against his chest.

“I’m going to miss you.”

“I know.”

“I don’t know how to stop loving you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I don’t want to forget you.”

“You won’t.”

Minutes passed with neither of you uttering a word. The city continued moving outside as though nothing extraordinary was happening. As though two people weren’t quietly saying goodbye to the future they’d imagined together.

Eventually, you pulled away.

Your fingers lingered against his sleeve before falling to your side.

“I should go.”

Sylus nodded once. He didn’t ask you to stay. He didn’t bargain. He didn’t promise to change.

Love, he knew, could not survive on pleading.

He walked you to the front door anyway. Old habits. The same way he always had.

When your hand rested on the doorknob, he spoke one final time.

“…Take care of yourself.”

You nodded, unable to trust your voice.

“And when you find her again…”

You frowned.

“The version of yourself you’ve been searching for.”

A bittersweet smile touched his lips.

“I hope she laughs as easily as she used to.”

The tears came all over again.

You leaned forward, pressing one last kiss against his cheek. It lingered only for a heartbeat. Then you opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Halfway across it, you looked back.

Sylus was still standing in the doorway. Watching. Not because he expected you to turn around. Not because he thought you’d change your mind. Because he wanted to know you’d made it safely to the elevator. Because that’s Sylus.

The doors slid shut between you.

And then you were gone.

⸻

The apartment had never felt so large.

Sylus remained standing by the front door long after the elevator had descended out of sight.

Eventually, he locked it. The click echoed through empty rooms that still looked like they belonged to two people.

Your mug sat beside the sink. A sweater still hung over the back of the couch.

A novel you’d been reading lay open on the coffee table, your bookmark tucked halfway through the final chapter.

He walked through the apartment in silence, each object reminding him that love did not disappear the moment someone left.

It simply stopped being shared.

He picked up your mug, turning it carefully in his hands. His thumb traced the faded chip along the rim, the one you’d complained about replacing because it was “still perfectly usable.”

You’d laughed when you’d said it. He could still hear it.

For the first time that evening, his composure faltered. His shoulders slumped. His breathing caught.

He lowered himself onto the edge of the couch, the mug still cradled in both hands as though it were something fragile. Something irreplaceable. His eyes burned. He blinked, stunned.

The first tear landed on the porcelain with a sound so quiet it was almost impossible to hear.

Then another. And another.

The apartment, once filled with your laughter, answered him only with silence. He bowed his head, pressing the mug against his forehead as a shaky breath escaped him.

“I hope…” he whispered to the empty room, his voice finally breaking, “…whoever you become… you find the happiness I couldn’t give you.”

No one answered.

Only the city lights beyond the window remained, shining indifferently into a home that had suddenly become far too quiet.

“Come home soon, sweetie.”

“Please.”

[flirtwithluck]

Ok imma need yall to hear me out on this. Lads men reacting to someone else paying for MC's stuff when she goes out shopping for clothes, getting her hair done, getting her nails done, etc. I can only imagine how ENRAGED they'd be like "excuse the actual fucketh bc WHY IS A MAN THING PAYING FOR YOUR THINGS?!?? I know that youve been blessed bu the goddesses but DAMN!!"

Author’s Note: Thank you for this request, anon! Thank you for trusting me - it was such a fun prompt to explore. I hope I captured what you were picturing. Happy reading! 💝

Summary: Different bills. Different strangers. Same reaction : "I've got her."

A collection of Love and Deepspace drabbles centered around jealousy, possessiveness, and the LIs absolutely refusing to let another man pay for you.

Pairing: all the LIs (separately), including Valko x Reader

Content : established relationship, romance, domestic fluff, protective LIs, jealous LIs

MINE TO SPOIL

XAVIER (word count : 346)

Today is not off to a good start.

You failed to wake up to your alarm, which meant getting ready was a frantic rush.

With no time to make breakfast, you stop by a bakery on your way to work. There’s no way you can survive on an empty stomach, especially without your usual cup of coffee.

After placing your order, you wait near the pickup counter.

“One cheese-and-ham sandwich and an Americano,” the server calls, setting the items down. “That’ll be €6.50.”

You fumble to retrieve your purse, but the zipper on your bag refuses to budge.

Tugging at it, you mutter a curse under your breath.

You don’t have time for this. You’re already running late.

“I’ve got it.”

A hand reaches past you and places a €10 bill on the counter.

You look up to see your neighbor, Charlie, smiling warmly.

“Charlie?!” you say, startled. “Thanks so much. I’ll pay you back, I promise.”

“No need,” he says with an easy smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

Your eyes dart to the clock on the wall.

“I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m really late for work.”

“I can give you a ride,” Charlie offers politely.

“That won’t be necessary.”

The familiar voice comes from behind you.

You turn just as Xavier steps forward, stopping quietly at your side. His expression is calm, though there’s a faint hint of irritation in his eyes.

“Xavier?” you blink in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

When you left earlier, he had still been fast asleep in bed.

“Xavier, good to see you,” Charlie says with a friendly smile.

“Please send me your account details. I’ll transfer the money back to you.”

“You’re in a hurry, right?” he says, turning his attention back to you. “Let’s get you to work first.”

Before you can react, he gently takes your hand and leads you out of the bakery.

As you walk down the street, Xavier speaks again, his voice quiet.

“Next time, wake me up. I can make you breakfast… or bring it to your workplace.”

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

ZAYNE (word count : 423)

Zayne and you aren’t really the type to dine at upscale restaurants.

Not because you can’t afford them, but because you both prefer smaller places - the kind that feel cozy, quiet, and warm, as if the meal had been prepared by a home cook.

Lately, though, people have been raving about a newly opened restaurant, and eventually curiosity gets the better of you.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” the waiter asks.

“No, thank you,” you reply. “I’m so full I couldn’t eat another bite.”

“The food was excellent,” Zayne adds. “Please give my compliments to the chef.”

“Of course, sir,” the waiter says with a polite nod.

“And the bill, please.”

“Certainly. I’ll be right back.”

As the waiter walks away, Zayne glances at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“For someone who said the food looked too pretty to eat, you seemed to enjoy it quite a bit.”

Before you can defend yourself, a voice interrupts you.

“Good evening. I’m sorry to bother you.”

A man who looks vaguely familiar approaches your table.

He turns to you. “Do you remember me? You saved me from a Wanderer attack a few days ago.”

“Ah, yes. I’m glad to see you’re doing well,” you say with a small smile.

“Your partner is very brave,” the man says, glancing toward Zayne. “I’d like to pay for your meal as a token of my appreciation.”

Zayne stills, his gaze following the man’s hand as he places a credit card on the table.

Without a word, Zayne reaches into his wallet and takes out his own card. He hands it to the waiter.

Then he slides the stranger’s card back toward him.

“Your gratitude is appreciated,” Zayne says evenly, “but that won’t be necessary.”

“Her time - and her bill - are already accounted for tonight.”

His tone is polite, yet cool enough to leave little room for argument.

The man flushes slightly, retrieves his card, and quickly mutters an apology and another thank-you before excusing himself.

Once you’re back in the car, Zayne loosens his tie with a single practiced tug as he starts the engine.

After a moment, he speaks.

“Do you usually let strangers take care of you?”

Before you can answer, he reaches over and takes your hand.

“Let me take care of these things,” he says, eyes still on the road. “Always.”

You can’t help the small smile that appears on your face.

Zayne’s jealousy is rare, but you can always tell when it surfaces.

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

RAFAYEL (word count : 456)

You and Rafayel are attending a high-end charity art auction.

It was originally Thomas’s idea - a way for Rafayel to maintain his public image - but Rafayel immediately rejected the suggestion.

Naturally, Thomas turned to you for help.

You explained that you had never been to an art auction before and were curious about the experience. Besides, since it was a charity event, Rafayel would be contributing to a good cause and going together would undoubtedly make the evening more enjoyable.

Eventually, Rafayel agreed.

Of course, as a famous artist, it didn’t take long for the event organizers to pull him away, eager to introduce him to other guests and collectors.

Leaving you alone.

You stand in front of a sculpture when a bidder approaches.

“You have a good eye,” he says. “Good evening.”

“Good evening,” you reply politely.

“You have good taste,” he continues, gesturing toward the sculpture.

“I wouldn’t say that,” you admit with a sheepish smile. “I’m not exactly an art connoisseur.”

“But I can appreciate its beauty.”

“If you were a sculpture, you’d certainly be worthy of praise and admiration.”

You let out an awkward laugh at the compliment.

It’s clear that this person is flirting with you.

A voice carries through the room, interrupting the conversation.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats. The auction is about to commence.”

The bidder gives you a small nod before walking away, and you release a quiet sigh of relief.

You weave your way through the rows of seats until you reach Rafayel. Taking the seat beside him, he offers you a smile and hands you a bidding paddle with the same number as his.

The first item up for auction is the very sculpture you were admiring moments ago.

The bidder from earlier raises his paddle.

“Fifty thousand euros.”

Murmurs and gasps spread through the room as people notice he has bid five times the starting price.

“Please put it under Miss Number 17.”

Number 17?

That’s your number.

Stunned, you look across the room and meet his gaze.

Then you turn back to Rafayel.

His expression is a mixture of surprise and confusion.

“Rafayel, this isn’t what you think…” you begin quickly.

Rafayel narrows his eyes.

“I leave your side for five minutes,” he says dramatically, “and instead of admiring the art, you’re out here collecting admirers?”

He pouts, clearly offended.

Before you can respond, Rafayel raises his paddle with exaggerated confidence.

“Fifty thousand?” he scoffs. “Pluuheese. Put her down for triple the price.”

Your eyes widen, and you completely forget how to speak.

Rafayel simply leans back, giving the bidder a smug, challenging look.

The room falls silent.

“Going once. Going twice. Sold to Mr. Rafayel.”

The clerk’s gavel strikes the podium.

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

SYLUS (word count : 397)

When Sylus invited you to join him at a casino, you were surprised.

Although you had always been curious about such places and had more than once thought about visiting one with your friends someday, your moral compass had always stopped you.

You were firmly against gambling, knowing how easily it can ruin lives.

Sylus explained he was only there to meet with a few business associates.

He made it clear that you were free to decline if the environment made you uncomfortable. However, if you decided to join him, you didn’t have to participate in any of the games. You could simply stay by his side, or use his card if curiosity got the better of you.

Upon arrival, Sylus was escorted to an exclusive private lounge, leaving you alone for the time being.

You wandered through the casino, observing the elegant tables and the players focused on their games. The more you look, the more you realize you don't even know how to play any of the games even if you wanted to participate.

Eventually, you stopped beside a roulette table, standing close enough to watch but far enough away that no one would mistake your curiosity for interest in joining.

Little did you know, you had already drawn the attention of a wealthy, arrogant high-roller.

While Sylus remained occupied with his business associates, the man casually placed a single €10,000 chip onto the betting square closest to you.

He smirks as he says, “Next round is on me, sweetheart.”

Before you could even process what is happening, a leather-gloved hand settles around your waist, pulling you flush against a broad chest.

Sylus towers behind you, his dangerous, crimson gaze locking onto the high-roller.

He doesn’t look angry.

He looks amused - in the most terrifying way possible.

With a lazy flick of his finger, Sylus sends the stranger’s expensive chip right off the table. It rolls across the casino floor like a cheap piece of plastic.

“You’re throwing pocket change at what belongs to me?” Sylus says, his voice deep. “Pitiful.”

The man’s cheek flushes - either from anger, embarrassment, or both, you can’t tell.

“She doesn’t play for pennies,” he adds.

“If you want to gamble your life away so badly, you can bet against me instead.”

The challenge in his voice is unmistakable.

The high-roller mutters something under his breath before storming off

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

CALEB (word count : 392)

Caleb is the type of person who spoils you relentlessly and pampers you without hesitation.

At first, it made you feel uncomfortable and uneasy. You weren’t used to being treated this way, and the last thing you wanted was for anyone to think you were taking advantage of him.

Over time, however, you slowly grew accustomed to it, realizing that this was simply Caleb’s way of showing you how much he loves and cares about you.

After complimenting one of your friend’s dresses, you ask where she bought it.

She tells you the name of a trendy boutique, and the moment you mention it to Caleb, he immediately insists that the two of you go together.

After spending a considerable amount of time browsing through countless options and trying on outfit after outfit in the fitting rooms, you are finally ready to check out.

Caleb places the clothes you have chosen on the counter before suddenly remembering one more thing he wants to pick up.

He dashes off.

The sales assistant begins scanning your items one by one, folding each piece and placing them neatly into shopping bags.

Then, out of nowhere, a flashy man in an expensive tailored suit approaches the counter.

You notice that he has been glancing your way throughout your shopping trip.

Before you can react, he places a sleek platinum card on the counter.

With a charming smile, he turns toward you.

“Put it all on mine. Beautiful clothes deserve to be worn by a beautiful woman.”

Before the sales assistant can even reach for the card, it suddenly becomes impossible to move.

The card remains pinned firmly against the marble counter, held in place by an invisible force.

Caleb’s Evol.

Caleb steps forward, his entire posture shifting into the disciplined stance of a soldier. His broad shoulders completely block you from the stranger.

He places a firm hand on the man’s shoulder. The pressure of his grip - amplified just slightly by his gravity Evol - enough to make the man’s posture buckle under the sudden weight.

“Look, buddy,” Caleb says, his voice taking on the same commanding tone he uses when addressing the fleet.

“I don’t know who you think you are, but you’re going to pick up your card, take three steps back, and walk away.”

His gaze sharpens.

“I’m only going to ask nicely once.”

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

VALKO (word count : 440)

You have been snowed under with work for the past few weeks, and as a result, you’ve completely neglected yourself.

Your hair is a mess of split ends, and your fringe has grown so long you can barely see through it. And don’t even get started on your nails - broken, chipped, and covered in nail polish that is barely hanging on.

When you call your usual salon, they tell you that your stylist is on a two-week vacation and no one else is available to take you.

You try a few other salons, only to be met with the same problem: either their stylists are fully booked, or they can’t offer an appointment that fits your schedule.

Fortunately, you have an amazing boyfriend.

“I called your workplace to let them know you’re taking tomorrow off. Non-negotiable,” Valko tells you the moment you get home.

“I’ve booked you in for a hair appointment, a manicure, and a pedicure,” he adds.

“At least, I think that’s what those services are called.”

“I’ll drive you there tomorrow and pick you up when you’re done. Just call me.”

You immediately reward him with kisses all over his face, scratching affectionately behind his wolf ears.

The salon Valko takes you to the next day looks like the kind of place celebrities and the wives of wealthy businessmen frequent.

Several hours later - a much longer stretch of pampering than you have ever spent in a salon before - you finally emerge feeling presentable again.

The staff who took care of you were wonderful: friendly, attentive, and highly professional.

You make a mental note to leave a five-star review and a generous tip as you head toward the checkout counter.

No doubt this place is expensive, and the services you had done would probably cost an entire month’s salary, but Valko had assured you that he would cover everything.

Suddenly, a wealthy, slick businessman steps up to the counter beside you, drops a high-tier membership card, and flashes you a smarmy grin.

“Put the lady's bill on my VIP tab. A gorgeous face like yours shouldn't have to worry about the price of upkeep.”

Just then, a towering 6'2" muscular frame steps into the man’s personal space.

A low, rumbling growl vibrates from his chest, raising the hairs on the back of everyone's neck.

Valko’s stance is one of danger and predatory stillness.

His golden eyes flare with an intense, territorial heat.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve.”

“Upkeep? Her scent is already marked on my ledger. “I don’t let anyone else pay for the woman I intend to take care of for the rest of my life.”

Tag list : @cordidy @thehyperfixationgirly @pjselee

If you enjoyed this story, feel free to check out my other Love and Deepspace fanfiction.

[mixxer-er]

Do I not satisfy you, doll?

summary It's been maybe a month now. Bucky refuses to have sex with you. Not outright. But a 'not now, baby', or 'sorry doll, tired'. You're starting to doubt he just...doesn't want you anymore. Unbeknownst, he wants you just as much. So, what's the issue?

author's note finally a smut. My first-ish explicit smut. God, I hope I wrote it right. This explicit writing knowledge has come to me after reading thousands of fics. So, uh, I could only pray it's nice.

I'm also always open to criticism. love-love.

warnings mdni; smut; eventual fluff; soft!bucky; strength difference?; dirty talking; lots of dirty talking; nicknames (baby, sweet girl, doll, sweetheart); piv; oral (f!rec); very appropriate use of metal arm; misunderstandings; miscommunication; it's sorted later!

≥1.5k

masterlist ; read on AO3

It had been a month now. A month without absolutely climbing Bucky. Without telling him how much you needed him.

You'd tried once.

Your leg slowly curling around his hip under the blanket. Then your hand sliding around his chest and playing with his dogtags.

Until he'd gruffly murmured a "baby, 'm tired". And you respected that. Slowly retracting yourself from the man, you tried your best to ignore the warmth that had pooled in your lower stomach. Your thighs rubbed against one another needily, face buried in the pillow as you tried to think of anything to turn you off now.

But it still hurt because that 'groggy' voice was fooling no one.

Your relationship wasn't weak by any means. You loved Bucky more than anything in the whole world, and the man had expressed his love for you more than once, in more than one way.

His gentle touches. His soft gaze. His low tone with you.

Everything about him screamed a doting boyfriend.

Never obsessive. Never controlling.

But always there. Always present and caring.

Another Thursday evening where your socked feet rested on Bucky's lap, tickling him with the fuzzy fabric even through his pants. Your cheek was pressed against the cushion, face half disappearing in there as you watched Bucky with yearning eyes. A petulant pout was starting to make its way on your lips.

He was watching the random princess movie playing on the ridiculously big TV you'd insisted on buying, more invested in the fight between the two step-sisters than you were. Eventually, however, his senses did catch on.

"What's wrong doll?", he turned to look at you, that always-present softness in his eyes directed to you, and only you now.

You huffed. Will he ever just let you be upset? Your thighs slotted around his comfortably when you climbed over, your movement lazy and deliberately slow.

"Well, I just want my boyfriend", whining, your nose tucked itself in the crook of his neck, breathing in the clean scent—something masculine and uniquely Bucky.

"Baby—", he started again, firm, strong hands finding your waist, about to deposit you back on the side of the couch. But then your widened eyes shining with insecurity—real or dramatic, he couldn't tell—met his, and he instantly melted.

Pressing a lingering, chaste kiss on the top of your head, he gave you a little smile. Compensating. But not convincing.

"What's wrong?", you cupped his cheeks, fingers tense against the well-groomed stubble. "You know, if you just say it, I'll stop asking you."

A soft sigh. His gaze dropped to his own lap, his grip tightening around the faded, worn hoodie you'd put on. Sliding them down to your thighs, he drew small, anxious circles on the smooth skin—mostly to comfort himself than you.

"I just—it's not that. I always want it with you."

You almost snorted at that. Always?

"But baby, I just wasn't sure you'd like it."

You were cartwheeling and backflipping and somersaulting. Because what the fuck? Not sure? As if you hadn't been salivating like a hungry dog around him. You blinked at him in total disbelief for a whole of one minute.

Hands groping. Foreheads bumping. Noses clashing. Buttons tearing.

"Fuck—", you gasped breathlessly, face flushed crimson—lack of breath. Definitely not how hot he looked shirtless.

"You asked for it, doll. Come on, wrap your pretty legs around me", a rasp. He pressed you to himself urgently as if enough willpower of his would merge you together. The closeness just wasn't enough.

You know, if you were rich and had money, you'd literally compose a song of the things he murmured in your ear when he was on top of you, hovering with that smirk. Because—

"Shh, my sweet girl only has to wait a little more. Yeah, can you do that?"

"Mm, there you go. All settled and comfortable."

"It's okay, doll. I'll never do anything you don't want."

His arm—strikingly cold and oh so confident in how it moved—lifted your back just enough to yank the clasp of your bra. The sudden, harsh movement made your breasts bounce enticingly, and God, Bucky had to be stupid to force this out of his life for a whole month.

Your teeth sunk into the plumpness of your lip, muffling any sounds that could've escaped you. Eyes squeezed tight as you struggled to register every sensation, your head thrashed against the pillow. He descended with wet kisses all over your skin as though they were trails of passion left behind.

His warm skin glided against yours painfully slow, gaze unwaveringly locked on yours. He was not going to miss a single second of the adorable, flustered expressions on your face.

"Aww, look at you. So ready for it, aren't you?", thumbs swiping against the jut of your hipdips, his teeth grazed every spot he wanted marked—he just couldn't get enough of what he'd been so obviously missing.

When his lips finally met your weeping pussy, your back almost flew off the bed. Because shit, that man had one hell of a tongue.

It swept. It lapped. It curled.

Your thighs snapped around his head, keeping him in place despite how overwhelming he was making you feel. His groan at your action vibrated against your wet flesh, saliva and slick obscenely slurped by the seemingly starving man.

Your chest tightened with how hard you were fighting yourself to control your noises, a bead of sweat travelling down the valley of your hickey-adorned breasts.

Yes. Just a little more—

"Why'd you stop?", you mewled breathlessly, eyes snapping open to reveal how glossy and needy they'd become.

"You don't have to lie about liking it", he murmured softly, eyes reluctant to meet yours, afraid to see hidden unsatisfaction as he shifted to sit back on his haunches.

"Huh?", you gaped at him, still stupid from how close you were from absolutely drenching the sheets with your release.

"You don't like it. You don't even—", he cut himself abruptly, perhaps ashamed to continue. "You don't even let me know how you feel."

You stared at him blankly. Then, in a painfully plain tone, you deadpanned, "Bucky, wow. Bucky, it felt nice. Bucky, please get back to my pussy. Like that?"

He choked at that, coughing and spluttering.

Your thighs were uncomfortably spread wide, knees hurting despite the pillows Bucky had slid under them with that cute, quiet concern. Your body was arched awkwardly till your back thudded against his bare, sweaty chest with every thrust he pistoned. One cold, unyielding forearm hugged your throat close, the difference in temperature maddening you, paired with a deep, low voice whispering dirty praises into your ears.

With every scratch of his stubble against yours, with every tighten of fingers at your right hip, you were losing control over your mouth. Jaw hanging, drool pooling, you could barely stop your moans.

"So perfect. So beautiful. Aren't you the perfect fit around my dick?"

His pace didn't falter with time. If anything, he got faster.

"Need to hear you, baby. Come on, sweetheart, please. Please, let me hear you."

There was a desperation in the way he spoke. As if your sounds were supposed to assure him of how good he was fucking the brains out of you. Your mind went blanker—if that was possible.

"Thought you didn't like—fuck, ah—like a loud partner", you scrambled for purchase, fingers digging into the strong muscle holding you upright.

Bucky frowned at that. He'd die to hear your beautiful voice break and hitch on his cock. But no time for questions right now. He had priorities. Namely, an orgasm.

"Need you to sing for me, doll. Please."

Who were you to say no to that? You let go. Cute "uh-uh"s, and "Oh, Bucky"s, slipped. The room felt heated—combined with the noises you both were making, and the lewd slap of skin on skin. The wet squelches echoing in the sex-smelling room made your cunt gush in both embarrassment and unfiltered need. 

Your voice had acted a switch. He was more confident with his aim now. The tip kissing your cervix with an intensity he was setting precisely, with his hips. You could feel him in your stomach. Your throat. Your everywhere. And with every panted "So big!", you massaged his ego.

Massaging his dick was a job your clenching, hot insides were taking care of.

His warmer hand slid down from your hip to the mess between your legs, moving his digits with vigor. They pinched the sensitive, pulsing bud there, forcing you to chase your high alongside him.

"My pretty darling. You need to come with me, okay? Come on, do it for me, doll."

"Yes, just like that. No more holding back, baby. Make my dick wetter."

Finally crashing, he slumped on top of you, his mouth curling up involuntarily when you weakly whined at the heavy weight. Rolling over, he grabbed you to flip onto your back with him.

"Can't believe you assumed I wouldn't absolutely love to hear you lose it on my cock", he grumbled, voice unfairly deep and obviously dripping with smugness. You hummed mindlessly, still trying to reconnect with reality. Slowly, and on wobbly legs, you lowered yourself on the floor. With shaky steps, you approached the bathroom—no space for UTIs between you and Bucky.

"Whole relationship, thought I wasn't satisfying you enough."

You shot him a look over you shoulder in incredulity.

"Didn't assume. Sam tricked me."

"..."

"..."

"HE WHAT—"

end notes: can't believe Sam tricked y'all with fake "bucky hates that, ew" stories </3

[nanaqinli]

⋆˚꩜｡❤︎ in the mood

Sum. pranking the lads men by saying "i was in the mood last night."

notes. hey i cant believe its been almost a week since i uploaded so 😔, this was a suggestion from someone (i hope i did it justice!) + from the summery it has smutty themes sooo MDNI as usual.

[mixxer-er]

You deserve worship too, Sarge.

summary Bucky loves to take care of you; not just outside but in bed too. He takes his sweet time making sure you feel comfortable and completely devoted to. It's only fair you let him feel special too.

warnings mdni; explicit content; soft!bucky; body worship; oral (m!receiving); pwp; very soft; slow romance; care; nicknames; barely rough; mentions of unprotected sex; a little fluff?; i don't know how to tag

author's note I always read such feral Bucky fics, and yet I'm unable to write anything but soft bucky. lol. anyways, I also found all Bucky worshipping reader fics, so well, here is Bucky getting what he deserves too.

I'm always open to criticism. Let me know what you think. love-love.

1.3k

masterlist ; read on AO3

Bucky had been the kind of boyfriend that always prioritized your pleasure over anything else. His hands—big and calloused—ran over your body gently despite the obvious strength they held. 

He always demanded eye contact, holding your gaze with those sincere ocean blue eyes swimming with desire and something very close to devotion. One of his hands—metal or flesh, he didn't care—would always hold yours, reassuring you, or maybe himself, that you were there. With him. Happy. Satisfied.

And sometimes, fucked stupid.

He was never painfully slow. His pace was fast enough for your drooling pussy, thrusts delivered firmly to attack that soft, erogenous spot inside.

He'd come only after he was pleased with your releases, smirking silently when your overstimulated body trembled underneath him. When your thighs shook against his hips, and he unhurriedly buried his cum deep in you.

His nimble fingers would always find your puffy slit even after pulling out, making sure no drop slipped out while you cuddled post-sex.

You loved it.

The care.

The douceur.

Him.

Perhaps, it was time you made him feel just as worshipped.

"God, I missed you", he whispered against your neck, his hands finding your hips, pulling you closer like he could no longer handle any distance between you two. Your lips curled, head tilting to give him better access to the smooth skin, letting him plant kisses at the delicate slope.

"You were out for an hour."

"Mm, too much", he shot you a playful grin, turning you just enough to face you properly now. You looked gorgeous. Hair tied back to cook in peace. Skin glowing with whatever expensive moisturizer you used. 

His eyes gave you that look—requesting, looking for any hint of reciprocated desire. You only responded with a smile, hands sliding up his chest as you closed the distance. The muscles felt taut and warm beneath the sweat-stained shirt, your fingers curling around the fabric to pull him further.

Grabbing your waist, essentially hoisting you, he deepened the kiss. His tongue sought yours, beard scratching the skin around almost pleasantly. The raw food lay forgotten in the back.

Without breaking apart, he gently guided you around, finding a blind way to the bedroom. His arms tightened their grip as he finally stepped you both inside, his foot kicking the door shut behind.

But before he could try to lay you comfortably on the fluffy mattress and ravish you like he intended, you pulled back. He made an almost inaudible noise, chasing your mouth instinctively.

Your palm pressed itself against his midriff and he immediately quietened. His voice faltered mid-sentence, every muscle seeming to freeze as though someone had pressed pause. His brows knit together, his expression tightening and  eyes flicking downward to check you with panic.

"What's wrong, doll? Do you not—"

"I just..."

You sighed. Your cheeks tingled with the blood rushing there with embarrassing speed. So, instead of voicing your request, you pushed the hem of his shirt.

The moment he yanked the fabric off, you pressed a deep kiss at his chest. Satisfied with the hitch in his throat, you slowly descended, your lips trailing wet kisses in their wake. You ever so often licked away at his skin, your body tingling at the feel of his abs tense against your tongue.

Trusting your boyfriend's brain to understand your wordless want, you sank. Your knees hit the plush carpet with a thump, toes curling in anticipation.

Your eyes—wide with the need to study his expression and glossy with neediness—met his.

His breath stopped. His soul left his body. God knows what all happened to the poor man in a split of a second.

One moment he was simply hard. The next, he was about to come in his pants like a teenager at the very sight of you kneeling before him.

"Doll, you don't have to—"

You cut him off firmly, a hand gliding up to his thigh, "I want to, Sarge."

Your mouth hovered over the zip of his pants, lips tentatively—teasingly—brushing the hardness straining under. His head tipped back, chest heaving with uneven inhales.

Your nails dragged a slow path past his abdomen, nearing his belt but never hooking. His hips bucked over, chasing friction.

With a deliberate bat of your eyelashes, you finally unbuckled the leather from its loop, discarding it mindlessly on the floor. You unzipped the jean, the fabric sitting a little looser on his hips now.

Your teeth sunk into the waistband, dragging the easy fabric down. Eye level with his erection, it was your turn to swallow hard.

Months of dating Bucky and yet, you could never get used to the size.

Reverently, you removed the boxers along, gasping quietly at the sight. His cock sprang out, hard, throbbing, and very angry at the tip—leaking precum.

"It'll be okay."

You nod at the reassurance, leaning forward to pepper light kisses over the length. He hissed loudly, his right hand threading itself through your hair. His grip tightened with every teasing lick and swirl.

Having enough, he wrapped his metal fingers around the thick shaft, guiding it to your inviting plump lips. The salty taste greeted you first as you worked your jaw open, the stretch almost overworking.

The second your wet warmth enveloped him, he let out a groan, his head falling backward. He tried—he really did. But his hips moved out of his control, thrusting into the tight expanse mindlessly.

"Oh fuck. So—So tight. My perfect girl."

His cock sat heavy on your tongue, pushing its way to your throat despite your obscene gags. You slurped and choked around him, the vibrations of your pretty sounds only spurring him further.

He couldn't hold back.

"Just like that, doll."

Both palms—large and tepid over your head—held it in place as he sped up. With every stuttering thrust, his heavy balls slapped against your chin, saliva pooling there alongside his own precum.

He dared make the mistake of fluttering his eyes open to look at you. Because fuck—

You were brimming with tears at the strain, lashes damp as they blinked at him. Your cheeks, flushed with a beautiful shade of rose, were hollowed, struggling to take all of him in.

"Oh baby, those eyes—shit—gonna be the death of me."

His flesh hand left your hair, dropping as he instead flexed his fingers. Your gaze caught the movement, your own hand moving over to hold his. Such a sap.

You would smile if you could.

His cock had started pulsing at the back of your mouth now. Insistent. Signaling.

With a broken moan, he abruptly pulled out. Fisting himself, he finally let go. Hot liquid spurted over your face, sticky globs painting your cheeks. Your lips. Your forehead.

Your tongue darted out to lick some off the corner of your mouth, watery eyes glancing at him.

"Shh doll, you okay?", he murmured into your ear, strong, steady arms easily carrying you to the bathroom.

You made a tiny noise of discomfort, jaw evidently sore. He gave you a small pat on the head, gingerly settling you on the marble counter.

"Let's clean you up, yeah?"

He reached for the washcloth hanging neatly beside the sink, the faucet hissing softly as warm water rushed into the basin.

He worked slowly.

One careful swipe beneath your chin.

Another across your cheek.

Every few moments he'd pull back to inspect your skin with heightened concentration, scared of bruising your skin with the water temperature.

His thumb brushed your chin lightly, turning your face just enough to catch a stubborn little smear near your jaw.

"There."

He smiled faintly.

"Much better."

You tilted your head to look in the mirror. Still disheveled. Still messy.

But....taken care of.

"I love you."

Your eyes flew back to his. The startled sound that escaped you wavered, slowly dissolving into an airy, weak laugh.

"Love you more, Buck."