#I saw ZERO knuckles appreciation. this was not just me

[emanresu-nekat]

GUYS WE FORGOT HIS BIRTHDAY

FUCK IM SO SORRY KNUCKLES

[casiia]

OMG OMG OKAY HEAR ME OUT. ghostface ethan edging reader after reader receives a phone call from him…!!?!?!?!!!

[ 𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞 ੈ✩‧₊˚ ]

pairing .: ethan landry x reader

genre .: suggestive content

word count .: 2k

warnings .: smut-ish (minors dni.), contains scream XI spoilers! scream plotline, threatening, mentions of a knife, soooo unedited, kissing, lingering touches, dry humping

author's note .: maybe planning on making another part to this <3 i have no idea if this is what was actually requested, but i had a lot of fun writing this! took a massive break from writing and i think i’m back, this is probably very ooc and might make no sense but i have zero experience writing thriller things like this idk. dialogue was used from the 1995 (or 7) scream movie. accepting constructive criticism, reblogs are appreciated. 

© casiia 2023 DO NOT REPOST OR PLAGIARIZE MY WORK

“hey, pretty girl.”

pulling the phone away from your ear confused, you checked your screen to see who was on the other line, frowning slightly when you saw no contact.

“who is this?” setting the home phone back on it’s stand, you let the call ring out on speaker, turning your attention back to the stove.

“there’s no fun in telling you who i am just yet, why don’t you answer a few of my questions first.”

rolling your eyes, you shook the pot once more before turning to lean against the counter, the buttery smell of popcorn filling your nose. “why should i do that?” speaking over the loud crackles and pops coming from the fire, you moved around the island to grab a bowl.

“it’ll be fun. so tell me, what’s your favorite scary movie?”

“hm, i don’t know.” pouring the yellow kernels into the large bowl, you popped a few pieces into your mouth with a satisfied hum. grabbing the phone and turning it off speaker, you pressed it between your ear and shoulder, balancing the device steadily. “maybe, halloween? think that’s the one where that guy stalks the babysitters.”

“you think it was scary?”

“i guess, anyways. tell me who you are now.” ungraciously falling onto the couch, you picked at the pieces of popcorn that had fallen into your lap, licking your lips with a smile as a salty taste covered your tastebuds.

“can’t do that princess, haven’t finished asking my questions.”

“then hurry up and ask them already.” annoyance showing on your face, you reached across the many throw pillows and grabbed the remote —  clicking through the channels with disinterest, before going to browse your downloaded pick of scary movies.

“you got a boyfriend?”

eyebrows raising in shock, you stilled with a quiet laugh. “why, wanna ask me out on a date or what.” you teased the person on the other line, shifting in your seat as you began to ponder who you were really talking to.

“we’ll see, do you have a boyfriend?”

“no.” placing the overflowing bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, you stood to make way to your room, keeping the chunky phone against your ear.

“that’s a shame, such a pretty one you are.”

biting back a smile, you switched the light to your room on; bending down to open your drawer of pajamas, you tossed an oversized shirt onto your neatly made bed. “you gonna be this charming to me when i find out who you are?”

“maybe.”

“got anymore questions for me, or can i start guessing who this is.” unbuttoning your jeans, you kicked the pair of uncomfortable pants off . turning the speaker back on, you tossed the phone onto your pillow, pulling your tank top up and over your head before slipping on the big shirt.

“go ahead, you’re giving me such a good show.”

“what are you talking about?” picking up the dirty clothes that you had left stranded on your floor, you walked into your connecting bathroom, putting the clothes in your dirty hamper.

“hm, that’s a nice shirt you’re wearing. where did you get it?”

eyes widening in surprise, you slowly turned back into your bedroom, your knuckles white as you gripped onto the phone. “can you see me?”

“ah what a good girl! putting her brain to some use.”

“if you can really see me, how many fingers am i holding up?” walking up to your window, you peered outside trying to get a good look. sticking out your middle finger, you squinted as you stared into your dark backyard, trying to piece together unfamiliar shadows. 

“funny, one.”

“shit.” shutting your blinds in hurry, you stumbled out of your room, quickly heading back downstairs. “who is this, jason?”

“from econ? no.” 

“you better leave me alone, my boyfriend is coming over soon.” closing the blinds to your backdoor, you shuffled into your kitchen, grabbing a large knife. “he’s strong, s-so get out of here!” 

“i thought you said you didn’t have a boyfriend?” 

“w-well i lied!” locking your front door, you turned down all the lights, curling into a corner, knife in hand. your breath was ragged, eyes darting from place to place in worry. “tell me who you are before i call the police.”

“quit being such a brat, the fun isn’t over just yet.”

chewing on your lip, tears lined your waterline as fear overtook you. anxiety creeping up your throat with every shallow breath you took. “this isn’t funny.” you flinched at the loud noise emitting from the buzzing device, a staticy and robotic laugh filling the eerily quiet apartment. 

“you look so cute with that knife. what’re you gonna do, stab me?”

“show yourself, you coward!” standing from the hardwood floor, you paced around the kitchen, blinking away any tears that threatened to spill down your pink cheeks. frustration and anger burning in your chest, when the anonymous caller laughed again.

“careful what you wish for.”

a loud ringing echoes from the phone as the call ends, the wind whistling against the windows has you whipping your head to each sudden noise. pressing yourself up against the wall, the knife that you held a safe distance away from you.

“where are you, motherfucker.” your voice just barely above a whisper, you jumped at the sound of your doorknob rattling – a fist loudly knocking against the wood of your door. “go away! i’ll kill you.”

“baby? hey, what’s going on it’s just me.”

“ethan?” letting the knife drop to the marble of your kitchen countertop, you winced at the loud clang. running to your front door, you stood on the tip of your toes, peering through the peak hole to see your boyfriend awkwardly standing in front of you. twisting the lock, you threw the door open before jumping into his arms.

“what’s wrong? did you forget i was coming or something?” pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, he circles his arms around your waist with a hesitant laugh. 

“no- no. this guy just prank called me, i was so scared.” pressing your face into his shoulder, you gripped onto his coat, muffled sobs racking from your chest. “he saw me, ethan.” 

“no, pretty, don't cry. i’m sure it was just some sick joke.” gently pulling you away from his tearstained coat, he cradled your face in the palm of his hand; wiping your wet cheeks, he pressed a light kiss in between your brows. “relax, no one’s gonna hurt you as long as i’m here.” 

“can you stay the night?” leaning into his touch, you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you. “don’t think i can sleep without you.” twirling his thick brown hair between your fingers, you sighed heavily, relaxing in his embrace. 

“of course, i was planning on it anyway.” adjusting the bag on his shoulder, he squeezed your hip once nudging you inside your apartment. “don’t want these creeps lookin at you, especially without pants.”

shaking your head with a smile, you wiped your remaining tears with the back of your hand, sniffling quietly and shuffling back inside. “lock it, please.” grabbing his bag, you tossed it onto the sofa, the sound of a lock clicking easing your shoulders.

“you were really scared, huh.” ethan laughs at the abandon knife on the counter, picking it up and putting it back with the other collection of cooking knives. 

“i was, that was the creepiest interaction i’ve ever had.” dragging your hands down your face with a huff, you walked over to your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his torso and pressing your face into his back. “y’should jus’ move in with me.” your words muffled, you felt his chest rise and fall with another laugh.

“i was the one that made that request, i’d rather live with you than chad.” he loosened your arms around him, dragging you around his body so you were caged between him and the counter. “i am really sorry you had to go through that, did you call the police?” 

“no, i think there are worse things to worry about. it was just some silly call.” rubbing your arms nervously, you took a deep breath, reassuring yourself of any crazy thoughts. “i don’t want to talk about it anymore, how was your day?” pulling yourself up on the countertop, you shuddered lightly when your bare skin met with the cool marble. 

“uninteresting, just caught up in some classes, i missed you a lot.” moving in between your legs, he dragged his fingers against your thigh, teasing the hem of your shirt higher up your leg. “is this mine? i’ve been looking for it.” inching his hand up your shirt, he squeezed your hip, his thumb trailing along the lace of your panties. 

“mhm, it’s comfortable. didn’t think you’d miss it much.” sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you placed your hands on his chest, drawing little circles into his shirt. looking up at him through your lashes, you licked your lips, your fingers settling at the base of his neck. “ethan…”

“what is it, baby.” bringing his other hand up to your cheek, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “want me to stop?” moving to retract his hand that found it’s way under your shirt, he looked down at you with worried eyes, scared that he had read the room wrong. 

“no! no. i want you, ethan.” grabbing his wrist, you bring his large hands back to your body, leaning forward to press a sweet kiss to his collarbone. “do you— do you want me?” guiding his hands under your shirt, you whined softly, his cold fingers grazing your stomach. 

“oh fuck.” mumbling under his breath, he pressed his lips to your forehead, glancing down at your exposed panties; pretty and pink, decorated with a white lace, a small bow stitched right in the center. 

“gonna answer my question?” trailing along the seam of his belt, you played with the hem of his shirt, your lips lingering on his skin with every word you mumbled. 

“i do, baby. let me make you feel good.” rubbing up and down your sides with a light chuckle, he gently patted your waist. “you deserve it, such a good girl.” 

tugging at the collar of his thick coat, you pressed your soft lips to his with a happy hum, your fingers entangling in his curly brunette hair. swiping your tongue against his bottom lip, you brought your hand up to cup his jaw, pulling him impossibly closer to you. 

ethan grinned against your lips, snaking his arm around your waist to grind his clothed crotch against your damp panties. “s’wet for me, haven’t even done anything to you yet.”

gasping into his mouth at the roll of his hips, you squeezed your thighs around his waist yearning for more. “please, ethan.” your words blurred together as you continued to kiss him – you tugged lightly on his hair with a mewl, the bulge showing in his jeans nudging your clit.

“so needy, can’t wait–”

a deafening ring cuts him off, his phone softly buzzing in the pocket of his jacket. letting your hands fall from his hair and atop of his shoulders, you shook your head with concern. “ethan, no.”

“relax, i bet it’s just chad.” giving your thigh a reassuring squeeze, he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the red phone. tilting his screen, he showed you the number on the screen, one that he had not previously saved. “recognize it?”

“no, i wasn’t shown a number.” anxiously playing with your fingers, you kept your eyes glued to the vibrating phone. “put it on speaker.”

nodding at your request, you watched him accept the call, letting it play out loud. “who is this?” 

“hello, ethan. what’s your favorite scary movie?”

🏷 .: @loaksbitch @sullybby @vmptears my stinky ethan landry apologist

[bwabys-scenarios]

Fixer Upper

Part 33

Perv!Kurapika x Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

pt 32

pt 34

warnings: spoilers for the chimera ant arc, violence

A/N: I was going to stop posting Fixer Upper here, but I wanted to just experiment and see if it will do well. If not it’s going to stay on AO3, so COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU LOVE THIS SERIES!

taglist: @tsukilover11 @ashdownunderscorebeloved @sweetstraberrybear @superweeniehutjrsblog @bugmomwrites @heartsforseo @lixiawinter @altaircc @itszenava @fiightforlovee @mimi-sanisanidiot @wow-im-gay @whorermoviestar @lightshowerrr @mama-m1na @nenggie @wicked-binch @jamayah

‼️please have your age in bio and make sure you can be mentioned/tagged before asking to be in the taglist‼️

(Name) collapsed from exhaustion as the timer hit zero. She had finally managed to maintain ren for three hours, her body at its limit.

“Alright, you can go rest now. Once you’ve slept for a few hours, come back and do it again.”

She nodded, barely able to pick herself up and shuffle to her room. It was dark out, the boys had already left to challenge knuckle, and she was glad Bisky understood her limits.

If (Name) was forced to go fight knuckle after maintaining ren for that long, she would pass out before reaching the park.

‘Ugh…’

Lifting a spoonful of soup to her lips, (Name) ate, wincing at the temperature. It wasn’t hot enough to burn her mouth, but warm enough to be uncomfortable.

Bisky might be a bit less hard on her, but the training was still excruciating, and sometimes she just wanted to give up. When (Name) thought about quitting, the image of Kite’s severed arm flying through the air appeared in her mind, strengthening her resolve.

‘We have to save him… if… he’s still alive, that is.’

Taking another bite, she peered outside the window, staring at the full moon. Part of her wondered just exactly how she wandered up here, training until she nearly passed out and only getting a few hours of sleep between sessions.

Maybe if her parents had been better, if she hadn’t taken the Hunter exam, or maybe if Kurapika had chosen her instead of his revenge, she wouldn’t have to suffer like this.

She paused, shaking her head. ‘That’s selfish… why would I think something like that? Kurapika’s revenge is important to him… I just… wasn’t enough to try and balance friendship and his responsibilities to his clan…’

Her heart hurt, especially when she thought about him abandoning her so easily, as if the time they spent together meant nothing to him. All this time she had been making excuses, trying to tell herself that it was just how life was, but while she was exhausted and frustrated, she couldn’t help but feel a bit of hatred in her heart for him leaving her.

(Name) loved him dearly, saw him as her dearest friend and someone she wanted to be with one day… it made her upset to imagine him seeing her as nothing but someone to pass time with. Maybe that was all she had been, someone that would comfort him and be a shoudler to cry on until he didn’t need it anymore.

Until his heart hardened enough to where comfort wasn’t necessary.

(Name) played with her hair, plopping down on her bed after quickly washing her face and doing her night time routine.

‘I better sleep, Bisky won’t let me rest anymore than a few hours…’

She didn’t want to go to sleep feeling hateful, so (Name) closed her eyes and imagined him holding her close, kissing her head when she thought she was asleep.

It made her feel warm and fuzzy, her cheeks growing hot. One day, she wanted to get that Kurapika back.

Her Pika, not the Kurapika he had become.

——————

(Name) woke up when the sun barely began to peek through the window, shielding her eyes from the light. She then raised both of her arms to shield herself when she was hit again with a pillow, the real reason she had woken up.

“Get up, (Name). Gon and I are going to sleep, but Bisky wants you to go train.”

She whined softly, opening her eyes to see Killua hovering over her, holding a pillow and ready to strike again.

“Killua..? What time is-“

He brought down the pillow again, making her yelp. “H-hey, stop that, I’m up, I’m up!”

As she sat up, Killua huffed. “Finally, I’ve been trying to get you to wake up for 10 minutes.”

(Name) stood, rubbing her eyes before peering out the window. “What time is it? The sun’s barely out…”

“I don’t know… like 6 am? I wasn’t paying attention. Bisky kept throwing things at us.”

She shuffled across the room, opening her closet. “Alright, tell her I’ll be out in a second. Gotta change…”

Killua shrugged and left, leaving her alone to get dressed.

After putting on a simple, airy summer dress, (Name) made her way downstairs. Bisky was perched on a stool, looking at a… suspicious magazine. The front cover had a half naked man on the front, making (Name) raise an eyebrow, but she stayed silent.

“I see you’re up. Start ren.”

“Ren? But I haven’t had breakfast-“

“I’m not repeating myself.”

She tried not to groan, getting into position before starting ren.

Not only did she want to save Kite… but she was getting pretty freaked out by Palm’s ominous warnings.

‘I have to try harder…’

———————

“Ugh…”

(Name) walked on wobbly legs down the street. Her body was exhausted and she felt like she would pass out at any moment.

Between training with Bisky then eating and sleeping, she had little time for herself. So when she was given an hour of free time, she nearly ran to the park.

Well… (Name) couldn’t really run right now persay, but she moved as fast as possible for her exhausted body.

She nearly collapsed on the bench, taking out her phone to scroll mindlessly through social media while snacking.

A smile stretched across her face when she saw a picture of Leorio in his new scrubs, her eyes lighting up when she noticed he was holding a picture of their group.

She liked it before scrolling, nearly jumping out of her skin when someone cleared their throat in front of her.

It was that guy with the pompadour again!

“Uh… hello. You’re Knuckle, right?”

He nodded, narrowing his eyes at her. “And you’re friends with the two boys I’m fighting against,”

She blinked in confusion, tilting her head. “I- how did you-“

“Yesterday I fought against them and came back the their hotel room. You were asleep on the couch.”

(Name)’s cheeks heated up, and she scratched the back of her head sheepishly. “Ah, yeah… I was tired from training.”

Knuckle looked her up and down, frowning. “From what they said, you’re the one that’s going with the winners, right?”

She set aside her snack, turning off her phone. “Apparently, yeah. I’m not quite sure why Chairman Netero chose me, but I’m going anyways so I’m here to support Gon and Killua as much as I can.”

The man nodded, crossing his arms. “And how has that been going so far?”

A frown appeared on her face. In her mind, she hadn’t really done much of use. Despite being several years older than Gon and Killua, she was nowhere near their strength and amount of determination. All (Name) wanted to do was help her friends… and keep Kurapika out of her mind.

“Honestly? Not great. I feel so weak and helpless, and I think I’ll be more of a burden to the team if I’m the one that goes to NGL again. I don’t know why the chairman said I’m going for sure instead of Gon and Killua. They both have so much more skill and experience than I do in battle.”

“But are they as experienced in life as you?”

This made her pause, her eyes flicking up to look at him. “What do you mean?”

He shifted his weight, letting out a grunt. “Those boys may be strong, but they’ve had strength their whole lives. Neither of them truly knows what it means to be utterly weak and defenseless… but you do. You can better understand the battlefield from a different point of view.”

This was something she hadn’t considered. Knuckle offered her a hand, a smile on his face. “If strength is something you want, I can help.”

(Name) hesitantly took his hand, and the two wandered off to begin training.

——————

Kurapika scrolled through his old messages with (Name), laughing to himself at some silly pictures. It had been a rough day with missions going wrong and lots of whining from Neon, so he allowed himself a few minutes of rest.

And he couldn’t help but take out his phone and scroll to her blocked number.

His soft brown eyes took in her sweet smile and read through her jokes and kind words. He got so lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed Melody calling for him until she was looking over his shoulder.

“Oh, is that (Name)?”

Kurapika jumped, his phone slipping from his hand and landing on the floor. He scrambled to pick it up, but Melody got there before he did. On the screen was a picture of (Name) in a bathing suit eating ice cream.

“Oh…”

Melody cleared her throat and handed the phone back to him, clearly a bit flustered and uncomfortable. “Apologies, I should have knocked. You’re a teenager, I didn’t even think that you’d be uh… looking at things like this.”

Kurapika nearly died on the spot, his face going red. “N-no, it’s not what it looks like! I was… just looking at old pictures we sent to each other.”

Melody paused, hearing a sorrowful song being sung by his heart. She let out a sigh, turning back towards him.

Although she wanted him and (Name) to reconcile, she could tell that him lingering on her memory while keeping distant was only hurting him.

“Don’t you think it’s… best to leave it alone? I’m not sure it’s fair to either of you if you’re going to act like this.”

His eyes turned scarlet, and he shoved his phone into his pocket before standing. “I don’t think it’s any of your business, Melody.”

“I think it is when you’ve been getting sloppy during missions, Kurapika! You get drunk at night then wake up so hungover you can barely work. How is that fair to the other body guards? Either work this out or…”

She stopped, placing a hand to her temple. “Either go back to her or don’t. If you’re going to break off the friendship, then you can’t be wishy-washy like this. It’s not healthy.”

Kurapika settled back into his chair as she left, staring down at his phone screen. Tears pooled in the corner of his eyes before he swiped them away.

His finger hovered over the delete button… and he clicked it over and over, getting rid of most of their messages and memories.

——————-

“Concentrate, (Name). If you can’t hit me, you won’t get any stronger.”

Sweat pooled down her forehead, her shirt soaked. It had been nearly two hours since (Name) began training with Knuckle, and he had only landed a single hit on him the whole time. His ability was annoying, but it was good practice sparring with him.

“Come on, just one more punch and you’ll get a break. Try again.”

She bit her lip, trying to focus and keep calm as he stood before her. Knuckle hadn’t been going easy on (Name), she had specifically asked him to fight her seriously… but god was she exhausted and ready for a break.

All of her nen focused into her fists, surprising him. She wasn’t one to be so reckless… Perhaps this could be a good development.

She sped up the very air around her fists, causing it to get hot enough to have him wincing when she thrust her fist forward.

Indirectly, she had hit him with an attack.

“That was… smart.”

He sat down, passing her a bottle of water, which she downed almost immediately. After collapsing on the grass, she caught her breath before speaking.

“Do you… think I’m getting any stronger? There’s only one more day until I leave for NGL…”

Knuckle waited until she had calmed down before he spoke. “I think you are stronger than you were a week ago.”

She blinked, then smiled, a big genuine smile. Before he could even react, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

“Thanks for this, Knuckle. I really appreciate it.”

The man was left a stuttering mess as (Name) stood up and brushed off her skirt. “I’ve got to get back home and start training with Bisky… that woman won’t tolerate any lateness.”

With a wave, (Name) ran off.

That night, she sat up in bed when she heard the alarm for the boys 3 hour ren training going off.

Opening the door, she peeked out to see Gon and Killua looking quite serious… though they were both grinning ear to ear.

“Are you boys going out again?”

Gon turned, giving her a smile. “Yep, today we’re going to fight him for real!”

(Name) rubbed her eyes as she walked in, still in her pajamas. “I see… I think you’ll do well, and I wish you the best.”

The two were pulled into her arms, a kiss placed on both of their heads. “Just… know that you’re both very strong and smart boys, sometimes… Even though you try your hardest, you can still fail. That’s life.”

Killua frowned, his head rested on her chest as Gon looked up at her. “We’re going to do it, (Name)! We’ll give it our all!”

She giggled, ruffling his hair. “I know you will. Now-“

The sound of paper tearing made them all jump. Palm was scribbling something terrifying onto paper, muttering something barely legible under her breath.

‘Yikes, I’m just glad I won’t be here tomorrow.’

————————

(Name) woke up in the morning, whining softly as she turned. It was Killua again… except this time, he looked devoid of hope.

She was instantly wide awake, throwing back her blanket so she could pull him into her arms. “Killua, sweetheart, what’s the matter? Are you okay?”

He sighed, letting her coddle him for a moment. It felt nice, after how awful his night had been.

“We… didn’t win.”

(Name) had expected as much. Killua and Gon waste my weak by any standard, but at the moment Knuckle was leagues ahead of them. From pure battleground experience alone, he had the advantage.

“I couldn’t fight… I kept…”

Killua choked up, clutching her sleeve. “I kept hearing my older brother’s warning… he always told me to never fight someone if I wasn’t sure I could win… how can I be friends with Gon if I can’t fight by his side!?”

She held him as he cried tears of frustration. He was so angry with himself for being weak, for being afraid.

“Killua, baby…”

There wasn’t much she could say or do, so she quietly pushed back his hair and kissed his forehead. “Maybe you should think about it for a while, sweetheart. Do you think Gon thinks the same way you do?”

Killua was silent, and she wasn’t even sure he heard her. The two stayed like that for a few minutes before he wiped his tears. “… Knuckle and Shoot said you need to be packed up by 3 pm. You’re leaving with them then.”

There was a look of hesitance on his face, and he gripped her sleeve tighter. “Are… you sure you want to go? It’s going to be dangerous, (Name).”

“I know, and I’m sure.”

She stood up, walking over to her dresser. “I’m going to pack, you can stay in here if you want.”

And he did.

(Name) stretched after stepping out of the van, leaning her head against Knuckle. It was strange, he seemed so fidgety after their training the day before.

“Knuckle.”

“Hmm?”

Gon stood before him, Knuckle’s nen technique still clinging to his shoulder from their fight. “Promise me… you have to save Kite!”

“Got it. I promise I’ll bring him back. I swear on this token.”

(Name) gave them both a hopeful, nervous smile, waving as she left. The two watched her go, both trying their best to stay strong.

———————

(Name) walked into NGL, wearing the clothes she had during her previous trip. Almost immediately she was pulled into a hole, yelping and falling onto her butt.

“Eek!”

Knuckle and Shoot landed across from her on their feet, getting into a fighting stance immediately. Knov and Morel stood before them, both of their gazes on (Name).

“We were told you have healing abilities, yes?”

(Name) was escorted to the chimera ant colony, where she was brought into the queen’s room. The ground was crunchy underneath her shoes, and the air was thick with tension.

There were doctors already working on her, and (Name) could tell that the creature was far past any saving.

“Hello…”

She knelt beside the queen, looking over her wounds. The doctor to her left spoke.

“Several organs have been damaged beyond repair, and she’s lost a lot of blood.”

(Name) frowned, looking over her body. “I’m… not sure I can do anything. If she had a missing limb or large cut, I could accelerate her atoms to heal faster. My ability speeds up time, if her organs are damaged or gone, all my ability will do is kill her faster, not heal her.”

The heart monitor started to slow, and the ant queen reached out her hand. She was trying to speak.

“Please! Please, you have to do something!”

A chimera ant named Colt grabbed her shoulders. “Anything, please!”

(Name) bit her lip, reaching out her hand. She tried to remember how it felt when Kurapika snapped at her… how time seemed to slow down and stretch forever.

Knov and Morel stared on in awe and disbelief, watching as the ant queen’s heart monitor slowed.

“I’ve stalled her organs failing… please, let her speak.”

‘She… slowed down time? Even for just a localized area, that’s an incredible feat!’ Morel thought, peeking over (Name)’s shoulder.

(Name) didn’t hear a single thing the queen said, all of her energy was spent on stalling just a little longer, keeping time still.

“She’s gone…”

With those words, (Name) collapsed covered in sweat. Shoot was closest, catching her before she hit her head.

——————

(Name) woke up in a feverish haze, her body feeling heavy and way too hot. As her eyes struggled to open, she heard something faint and distant.

Someone was speaking to her, trying to get her attention.

“(Name)..?”

As the fuzziness in her eyes began to fade a bit, she was finally able to focus on the figure sitting next to her bed.

“Ch… chairman… Netero..?”

The man before her had a calm look on his face, leaning back in his chair before speaking. “You’re awake. It’s been four days since you temporarily stopped time.”

“Four days!?”

She jolted up, nearly vomiting after the sudden movement jostled her.

“Easy there. Lay back down, there’s no need to rush. We need you to recover as quickly as possible, and that can’t happen if you’re trying to rush things.”

(Name) blinked her bleary eyes, settling back down and putting her head over her forehead. “You need me..? Why? I did one thing and now I’ve been out of commission for days.”

“You stopped time, (Name). That can be very useful to us.”

She huffed, looking around the room before her eyes settled on a glass of water. “I only slowed down time temporarily for a localized area. It's not enough to help anyone, much less-“

He handed her the cup of water.

“You kept the ant queen alive long enough for her to tell the others the King’s name. That’s crucial information tha can be used as a bargaining chip. It seems you don’t understand the potential you have and the impact your powers can have on the future.”

Netero watched her drink, sighing. “Slowing down time is something impossible, I’m not even sure how you were able to do it. When creating something with nen or performing an ability, it has to have some basis in reality.”

“Well…”

(Name) set the glass beside her, wiping the leftover water from her mouth. “All I did was imagine a moment where time seemed to slow down for me, and-“

“And you transferred that ability into nen! My girl, you’re quite clever, aren’t you?”

For the first time, Netero seemed genuinely impressed. He stood, walking over to a table and picking something up.

“Here, it’s your bag. I’m sure Gon and Killua will want to know what’s happening.”

He turned and walked towards the door.

“An enhancer will be coming by in an hour or so to help with the healing process. You should be good as new within a day or so.”

He paused, turning to look at her. “And make sure you don’t tell anyone about your ability. There are many people that would kill to be able to stop time… even for just a moment.”

With that, he left, closing the door behind him.

—————-

(Name) winced as Gon jumped into her arms, nearly knocking the wind out of her.

“Hey, hey, I’m alright…”

She frowned, petting his hair. Gon was completely quiet, his face hidden in her shoulder as he clutched her tightly.

‘He’s already nervous about Kite, I’m sure knowing I was in the hospital scared him…’

Killua stood by her bedside, reaching out to hold onto her shirt. The way Killua showed how he worried for her was pretty cute.

“Chairman Netero said I’ll be fine. An enhancer came by and checked on me a minute ago.”

The two seemed to relax a bit, smiling as they not got comfortable in her hospital bed.

“Ahh, now it’s cramped.”

They watched tv for a bit, eating hospital food and laughing. “You both seem like you’re in a better mood!”

“Yeah, that’s because Knuckle said he found Kite!”

(Name)’s face lit up at Gon’s words, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Wait, seriously? That’s amazing!”

Killua looked out the window, his eyebrows furrowed.

‘Knuckle seemed troubled when he told us… something is up.’

But he stayed quiet, not wanting to ruin the good vibes. Gon had been training so hard to save Kite… and Killua really wanted to believe everything would be okay.

The three spent the next few days together, sharing their experiences. They were both shocked to learn about her new ability.

“YOU STOPPED TIME!?”

(Name) quickly covered his mouth, shushing him. “Shh, I'm not supposed to tell anyone! It’s dangerous information….”

“Then why the hell did you tell us!?”

She sighed, giving him a smile. “Because you two are my friends.”

Killua quieted at that, hugging to try and hide his embarrassment and happiness. “Yeah, yeah…”

Gon leaned her head on his shoulder, smiling. “You’re both my friends, and… I care a lot about you both!”

Killua threw a pillow at him, his cheeks pink. “Oh will you both stop it with the sappy stuff!?”

Gon and (Name) giggled at him, making Killua even more flustered.

(Name) wishes times like these could last forever… but that could never be. Something felt wrong, there was going to be more pain and heartbreak sooner than she wanted…

But there was nothing she could do for now, so she held onto them both, trying her best to be their rock as the days passed by.

—————

Walking down the dark stairway to meet Kite for the first time in months should have been exciting… but all the three felt as they were guided into uncertainty was a nervous, anxious feeling.

Not a single one of them thought everything was okay. Even Gon had a strange expression on his face, half way hopeful, half way dreading what was going to be behind the door.

She put her hand on his back, smiling softly before giving him his space.

If she could stop time right then, she would have done everything in her power to keep Gon from seeing Kite in his current state.

Covered in stitches, staggering and twitching like a zombie. He had been shrunken down by Shoot’s ability, but grew to his full size when let out of his cage.

(Name) tried to stay strong for the boys, but tears threatened to fall from her eyes as she gazed at the man she had admired.

She could tell just from a glance that he had no more life inside of him. He was just a walking corpse with no nen or voice. There was no more communicating with him, he couldn’t be fixed…

Yet Gon walked towards him, allowing himself to be punched as he said it was okay.

(Name) winced, covering her mouth as Gon attempted to speak with him. It was heartbreaking…

Killua couldn’t move, couldn’t say a single word. His eyes were transfixed, moving to follow every strike Kite landed on Gon.

He was finally able to speak, broken from his trance when (Name) reached out to hold his hand and squeeze it gently to comfort him.

The others spoke, but (Name) didn’t hear a thing. The only thing she was focused on was how she would try to heal Gon with her nen after this.

If he would even let her.

Killua helped her up the stairs as they left, letting her lean against him. She was still weak from her overexerting her nen output…

While they walked, Knuckle came up from behind, taking her other arm. “Here, let me help.”

Though Killua really disliked the fact Knuckle had gotten so friendly with (Name), he allowed him to help. He seemed to put (Name) at ease…

“Is… Gon going to be okay?”

The group was sitting in a cafe now, watching as (Name) joined them at the table. She smiled, but it was obvious she was forcing it. “Physically, he’s fine. I healed him up… but…”

Everyone knew what was going unsaid. Gon was in emotional turmoil, struggling to cope with the current situation.

“… there’s still a few weeks before his Nen will be restored.” Knuckle stated, sipping on his coffee. “I guess we’ll just have to watch over him until then.”

——————

On the surface, Gon seemed okay, but both Killua and (Name) knew him well enough to understand it was just a facade. He was storing up all of his anger and strength so he could face off against Pitou.

After a few weeks, the ant extermination group met up in a relatively crowded restaurant, (Name) sitting between Killua and Knuckle as they watched the TV over head.

“What is the agenda behind the sudden flurry of activity recently observed in East Gorteau? Supreme leader Diego has personally invited all citizens in the capital city Peijing to celebrate the nation’s birth in ten days.”

As the news anchors continued to speak, Morel scoffed. “Colt believes the celebration will be used as a screening.”

“We don’t know what they’ll do with those found to have nen, but 99% of the humans there will die. We must stop it before that happens. Our time limit is ten days.” Knov finished, addressing Gon and Killua.

“What’s the old man up to?”

“He sent an email saying that he’s already inside East Gorteau, but I haven’t heard from him since.” Knov replied to Killua.

“Do you think he’s already been taken out?”

“If he fails to contact us today, we’ve been told to assume as much.”

At that, Knov’s phone began to ring. (Name) but her lip, of course Chairman Netero would call right at that exact moment!

“Speak of the devil, it’s the chairman.”

“That old man’s got some sharp ears.”

“He already knows everything, including the fact that you boys and (Name) are here. And that Morel is badmouthing him.”

The text read as follows:

“Divide into pairs and draw the Royal guard away from the king. The night before the celebration, the operation will begin at midnight. (Name), do not use your nen again until then. From the sharp-eared old man.”

“That guy really scares me…”

(Name) laughed at Morel’s words, but in the back of her mind she wondered why she wouldn’t be able to use her nen until then… what did Netero have planned?

[e-dubbc11]

A Better Night

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: A couple of swear words, fluffy bunnies and unicorns, alludes to smexy time but PG-13 for the most part. Mention of conceal carry, other self defense weapons

Word Count: 3.3k-ish

Summary: You’ve had a terrible day at work, Billy surprises you at home with dinner and ready to pamper you and make sure you have a better night

A/N: I finished this before I left for my vacation so it’s just been sitting for a month and a half, waiting patiently to be published. I’ve had dreams about this, we all just want to be pampered, right? Especially by this man! I wrote it pretty quickly so if there are mistakes or if it’s boring or bad, I’m sorry. But I hope you enjoy it!

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

It had already been a long day and it was only noon. Your morning was filled with meetings, emails and zero time for breaks. He had called you on your lunch break, as usual, and you had been short with him even though you didn’t mean to be. His initial reaction was to snap back at you but he’s learned a few things since the beginning of your relationship.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before speaking again. “Well I hope your day gets better, sweet girl.” He said that knowing full well that while your work day may not get better, he was going to try his hardest to make sure your night would be. You’ve gone above and beyond making Billy feel better after a hard day at work, so it was his turn to return the favor.

After hanging up, you immediately regretted being snippy with him. All he did was call to see how your day was going just like he did every day. It was the sweetest thing and you loved him so much for it. Billy didn’t deserve that, so before your lunch break was over, you sent him a text. I’m sorry, handsome. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I love you. But you didn’t receive a reply back and assumed he was probably mad at you. Great, having your boyfriend mad at you just adds to the already banner day you were having.

Your work day didn’t get any better after lunch either. The papers just kept piling higher and higher, the emails kept coming in, the phone never stopped ringing, and all you wanted to do was to go home and relax with a glass of wine until Billy came home. Apologies were better in person anyway.

Billy was on your mind for the rest of the day because of how you treated him and you felt awful. You just hoped he would accept your apology.

After pulling your keys out of your purse, you thought you heard music coming from inside your apartment. Was the television on? Billy never got home before you did, so you couldn’t be positive he was on the other side of the door. He did like to watch the news in the morning, maybe he accidentally left it on.

As you were putting your key into the lock, you noticed one of your freshly manicured nails was broken. Fantastic. You couldn’t get inside fast enough but you were ready in case there was an intruder inside—an intruder who liked listening to romantic music while they robbed you. That sounded absolutely ridiculous but you never know so you had your kitty knuckles on one hand and pepper spray in the other.

Billy heard your keys so he stopped what he was doing in the kitchen to greet you when you walked in.

You carefully opened the door and peeked your head inside and saw him standing near the dining room table. He was wearing your apron that said “No Bitchin’ in My Kitchen,” his dress shirt sleeves were undone and rolled up to his elbows, and he greeted you with his million dollar smile like he always did. “Welcome home, beautiful.” He noticed your weapons of choice in your hands. “Shit baby, put your kitty knuckles and pepper spray away, it’s only me!” Billy started to laugh. “I am very proud of you for being ready though, just in case. I’m surprised you don’t have your piece out.” He joked. Billy made sure you were prepared and equipped at all times.

“Well I didn’t think an intruder would be listening to romantic music while stealing our stuff but I still wasn’t sure. I was just on high alert after the day I had.” You joked back with a smile of your own.

Immediately, you started to apologize profusely. “Billy, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to—“

He cut you off.

“No, no I know you were just having a hard day, my love.” He said as he removed your purse from your shoulder. “Now, don’t move.” He turned on his heels and headed towards the kitchen, whatever he was cooking smelled delicious. The scent of garlic, onion, and Italian herbs hung in the air.

The red wine sat out breathing in a decanter on the kitchen counter, there were fresh long stem, red roses in the tall vase on the dining room table, and the tapered candles were lit. Everything looked so beautiful.

Like he had read your mind, Billy came back with a glass of wine and he kissed you on the forehead. You didn’t deserve all of this and you couldn’t help but smile because of how adorable he looked in your apron.

“You did all this for me, baby?” You asked, still surprised by it all. Setting your wine on the table, you went to him, wrapped your arms around him as he embraced you too, the scent of his cologne still clung to his shirt from this morning, and you stood there holding each other waiting to see who would let go first.

It was you who pulled away first but it was only to clasp your hands behind his neck and pull him towards you for a kiss. He tasted like tomato sauce and basil. “Well I left work early because I wanted to make sure your evening was better.” He leaned down to kiss you again, the tension in your body loosened slightly, and you were just so relieved to be home with the man you loved.

“So have a seat, my love. Dinner will be ready in a little while.” He gestured for you to go and sit on the couch. “Go on. And don’t distract me.” He winked at you and gently smacked you on your ass, as you let out a little yelp.

You could see why Billy was in charge of people. They listened to him, followed his orders, and worked hard for him. It was because he took care of his employees and now he was taking care of you.

So you removed your shoes, walked over to the couch and sat down with your wine. You were so used to doing chores and cooking when you came home, you weren’t exactly sure what to do with yourself so you asked Billy if he needed any help. “Do you need any help, handsome?”

He yelled from the kitchen. “You’ve been on the couch for 30 seconds and you wanna help?! RELAX, baby! Can you do that for me, please?” You could tell he was smiling as he was saying it but he was very serious that he just wanted you to decompress from your day and you can’t do that if you’re on your feet, trying to help him.

So you just continued to sit on the couch, with your wine, while Billy did whatever he was doing in the kitchen. You were pretty sure he was making the lasagna he knows you love so much.

It was easy to get a rise out of Billy by bothering him and asking him questions, especially while he was cooking. “What are you makin’ in there, anyway?” You asked as you tried to keep from cracking a smile.

“Don’t you even worry about it.” His slight New York accent showing through and sounding incredibly sexy.

You angled your body so your back was resting against the arm of the couch, swung your legs up and turned your head so you could watch him through the breakfast bar window, even though you could only see him from the waist up. His profile was sharp, he had just taken his beard down a little that morning so you could see all of the angles on the side of his face.

Billy’s deep brown eyes concentrating on cutting the herbs to add to the sauce, tasting everything and adding spices when needed. You watched his lips touch the wooden spoon to taste the sauce, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip, he raised his eyebrows, nodded his head and set the spoon down on the stove.

He must have felt you staring at him because he turned to face you, smiled lovingly at you and his eyes were glittering like chips of dark glass. “You see something you like, beautiful?” Billy asked.

You smiled back. “I always see something I like when I’m looking at you, my love.” His nose turned a little pink as well as his ears, he was blushing.

Dinner was delicious, Billy did make his lasagna, a Caesar salad and for dessert he picked up some cannoli from the bakery. You each talked about your work day, made each other laugh, and you just felt the stress melt away from your body.

This was exactly what you needed after the day you had, but he wasn’t finished spoiling you yet. You started to gather the dishes to bring to the kitchen when he stopped you.

“No, no love—I’ll do that.”

“But you cooked, Billy so I clean up, those are the rules.” You said, looking a little confused.

“I said I’ll do it, baby.” The tone of his voice was tense, he really did not want you to help. “I laid something out on the bed for you, go put it on.”

You bit back your smile. “What? Billy, you’ve already done so much for me.”

“Just go put it on, sweet girl. I’ll be there in a minute.” He winked at you again and started to clear the table.

Curiously, you proceeded across the living room floor and headed towards your bedroom, glancing over your shoulder a couple of times because you could feel Billy looking at you, waiting to see what your reaction would be.

You adjusted the dimmer switch to give your bedroom a dim glow, he had candles burning in there too and there on the bed was what looked to be the warmest, fluffiest bathrobe you think you’ve ever seen. You reached out to touch it, the fabric ran through your fingers like butter, it was exceptionally soft. What was he up to, anyway?

You undressed and slipped the robe on. It was the softest thing that has ever been on your body, you just stood there for a minute, admiring it, touching it, and you couldn’t believe it was yours. Sitting on the edge of the bed with your legs crossed, you waited for Billy.

You could hear him rinsing the dishes and loading them into the dishwasher, the silverware made chime like noises, and he had wrapped up the rest of the food and put it in the refrigerator.

“Do you like it, baby?” He asked you with his hands in his pockets, while leaning against the door frame, looking at you from head to toe, and smirking while he did it.

“Like it? Billy, I LOVE it! This is beautiful and so cozy.” Your boyfriend was just full of surprises tonight.

“Ok, stay right there.” He walked into your bathroom and began to run the water in the bathtub. You watched him scurry back and forth between rooms, carrying candles, more red roses, a glass of wine, and the strong scents of lavender and rose coming from the bathtub smelled like heaven.

After the tub was full, he turned the water off and shuffled more things around. You bit down on your thumb in anticipation, smiling from ear to ear as you did so. Billy always had to be the best, even if his only competition was from himself.

He tried so hard to make you happy but sometimes smaller gestures meant more than more extravagant ones. The fact that he cooked dinner for you would have been enough but he always wanted to do more.

He made sure everything was exactly the way he wanted it before leading you into the bathroom, he had you close your eyes of course and when you opened them it looked like a scene from a movie.

The warm soft glow from the candles gave off just enough light to see everything he did, your glass of wine was resting on the edge, an inflatable pillow for your head, and red rose petals covering every inch of the surface of the water.

“Billy…it’s beautiful. I don’t know what to say. Thank you.” You said as you snaked your arms around his long torso, he hugged you back and kissed the top of your head.

“I just really wanted you to have a good night, love.” He squeezed you tight and tilted your chin up so you were looking into his endless dark eyes. He inched his face closer to yours and your lips met in the middle, softly at first, and then with more vigor and passion. His tongue twisted and knotted with yours as he started to untie your robe, but he pulled away. “Didn’t I say not to distract me?” He said as you shied away slightly while looking up at him. “Come on, baby. Get in the tub and enjoy your bath, ok?”

It did look very inviting and you actually could not wait to get in. Billy untied the robe, opened it to reveal your naked body underneath, the look in his eyes was primal and raw, his eyes roamed all over you like he wanted to take you right there but tonight was about helping you relax. He let the robe fall completely to the floor, took your hand in his, led you to the tub, and helped you in.

The water was hot, borderline too hot but it felt amazing and the lavender bath oil you could already feel it on your skin. You were at complete ease, he made you forget all about the bad day you had.

Time seemed to stand still while you relaxed in the bath, you haven’t felt this calm in a long time. The tightness in your body let go and when you finally stood up, your legs felt like jelly. You wanted to thank Billy for everything he had done for you tonight, no one has ever done anything like that for you so you dried yourself off, covered yourself with the robe and headed for the living room.

When you walked into the room, there was Billy. He was sitting on the couch with his eyes closed and his head propped up with his hand and his elbow resting on the arm of the couch. “He sleeps.” You said quietly to yourself while smiling. Not wanting to disturb him too much, you carefully walked over to the couch and sat down next to him with ease. Brushing a stray hair away from his face, you sat up on your knees and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, the bristles of his beard tickling your soft lips.

You weren’t exactly sure why, but tears welled up in your eyes thinking about all of the things this sweet man had done for you today and what he does for you every day. A tear fell down your cheek, that’s when he opened his eyes, somewhat startled. He must have been sleeping hard.

Billy looked over at you, eyes half open and gave you a smile. “Hey sweet girl. How was your bath?” He quickly noticed your tear stained cheek. “What’s wrong? Did I do it wrong? I did it wrong didn’t I, the bath oil was too much? Not enough?”

You grazed his beard with your thumbs. “Billy, no no everything was perfect, baby.”

“Then why are you crying, my love?”

You crawled into his lap, buried your face into the crook of his neck, and kissed him under the shirt collar, his skin was warm and you felt the smile spread across his face. “I don’t know, I just—well, no one has done anything like this for me before. You thought of everything—this was so sweet—and, I just want to say—thank you and…I love you.” Another tear fell down your cheek.

Billy swept his thumb across your cheek to gently wipe the tear away. “Y/n, I just wanted to pamper you a little bit. You put up with me working long hours, my moods, and just…me. You put up with me so it’s the least I could do.” He looked away from you, he did that when he was embarrassed or ashamed of himself in some way, even though he had no reason to be.

“Billy, look at me please.” He turned to face you and pressed his lips together. “We take care of each other, baby. That’s why we, for lack of a better term, work. You love me, right?”

The expression on his face softened and he furrowed his brow a little, like he couldn’t believe that you could even question something like that. “More than anything.”

You gently scratched his scalp with your fingernails and gave him a warm smile. “That’s why we do things for each other, I don’t just put up with you…I love you.”

Billy still really wasn’t used to having someone love and care for him as you do. In the beginning, he always felt the need to buy you something to show you how much he cared for you or take you to an expensive restaurant. While those things are nice, you would try to convey that it wasn’t always necessary.

He’s learned that little gestures like surprising you with flowers, or a cup of coffee, bringing home ice cream because it’s your favorite, are all ways to let you know that he cares about you, they tell you that he loves you, just like he did tonight.

He didn’t give you a diamond bracelet or take you on a fancy vacation, Billy made you feel loved by making you dinner, drawing you a hot bath and making sure you were relaxed. That was more special than any piece of jewelry he could buy you.

“I love you too, sweet girl.” He leaned forward slowly to have his lips meet yours. They tasted like red wine and chocolate from the cannoli.

“Did you eat that cannoli without me?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

He gave you a surprised look. “Cannoli? What cannoli? I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, beautiful.” Even though he was trying to bite back a smile, it didn’t matter because his eyes were doing the smiling for him.

You inched closer to him and pressed your lips to his again. “Nice try, handsome. I can taste it on your lips ya know.”

Billy touched his tongue to his top teeth and looked down at the tie for the robe then back up to your face.

“You see something you like, Mr. Russo?” You knew calling him that drove him absolutely crazy.

He started to untie your robe.

“I think I could see it better without this on.” He tugged on the robe a little.

As you sat back on your heels, straddling him, Billy untied the robe and lightly touched your smooth glowing skin underneath. He took in the scents of lavender and rose that were leftover from your bath as he nipped at your jaw, your chin tilted up to give him better access to the sweet spot on your neck, and you started to unbutton his dress shirt.

“Let’s go to bed.” He growled in your ear.

Your bathrobe fell to the floor on your way to the bedroom, Billy audibly gasped as he followed close behind you.

You turned around to face him in the doorway to your bedroom, he pulled you by the waist so your body was flush with his as you asked him “Are you finished pampering me, my love?”

“Oh I’m not even close to being done with you.” Billy whispered. “Not…even…close.”

Tag List: @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @xdervyxccgh @mattmurdocksscars @fakehappy27 @munsonownsmyass @music-indie-tv

If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Double Agent: Part 3 | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends! This is part three to my Double Agent series, so please read the first two parts first :) Part One can be found here, and Part Two can be found here.

Send me your comments, requests, and / or suggestions! 🥰

Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @glxwingrxse @psychoticmason @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy 💘

Tags for this series: @cjand10 @leyannrae @blessedwedgie @vampire7595 @onlyjamesbuchananbarnes ♥️

Part four!

Warning: mention of panic attacks, nightmares, PTSD

————————————

Bucky's arms remained tangled around you for a while, gently stroking the length of your spine to try and help you calm down a bit. The feeling that you were crossing a line began seeping in all at once, forcing you quickly pull yourself from Bucky's grasp and reclaim your spot next to him.

Another thick silence hung in the air like fog until Bucky hesitantly spoke up, "hey, um, I think I know the answer to this question, but...do you wanna try to go back to sleep?"

Almost nothing sounded worse than falling asleep and letting the horrors of your subconscious take over. Bucky read the expression on your face with ease, knowing he'd shot Steve, Nat, and Sam the same look countless times when they'd suggested he get some sleep.

Being on the other side of the familiar look made him understand just what his friends had felt when put in this exact situation. He saw the dark circles under your eyes, the way you anxiously picked at your cuticles, and the hundreds of tiny red blood vessels that had appeared along the white surface of your eyes.

The evidence of your emotion and exhaustion was written all over your face, giving you a small, almost pathetic look. In that moment, all he wanted was for you to get some rest-which is exactly what his friends had always told him.

"You had a really long day," he said gently, "the mission was...hard on you. And all of the, um, the crying-"

"The emotional breakdown?"

"Hey, your words, not mine. But seriously, I know you've gotta be exhausted. Getting some rest might be a good idea...just food for thought."

It shocked you again and again just how kind Bucky was- just how much he cared- after everything you'd done to him. He sat next to you with his hand on yours, stroking your knuckles and wishing you'd let yourself rest- the man was a saint.

"I know that you're right, Barnes. But I just- I can't..."

There was an unspoken understanding between the two of you that didn't require Bucky to answer.

"I'm just gonna put on a tv show or something", you told him, "you can feel free to stay-or go- whatever you want."

Bucky gazed at you with expectant eyes, searching your face for what you wanted. If you wanted to be alone, he'd give you your space- but he secretly hoped you'd ask him to stay. You made him feel understood, you made him feel seen. And he was genuinely worried about your well-being; if you'd asked him to leave, he would've spent the rest of the night up worrying about you.

The look in Bucky's eyes made you nervous. More than anything, you wanted him to stay, but he'd already done so much for you. You were entitled to exactly zero kindness from him, and yet he was giving you all he had. His stare burned through you and wore you down, pulling timid, "please stay" from your lips. That was all the convincing Bucky needed to remain camped out in your bed for the rest of the night, and he did so happily.

"Thank you so much for staying... for everything, really" the words had you feeling sheepish, but the sentiment was genuine. You appreciated his kindness, his warmth.

"You don't have to stay up if you're tired," you continued, "you can get some sleep, I know you're probably exhausted".

A perfectly timed yawn pushed its way out of Bucky's mouth as you spoke, "I'm gonna do my best to stay up, just in case...but no promises",

The two of you settled in for some New Girl, but Bucky only made it through an episode and a half before he was dead to the world. Schmidt and Nick's hilarious antics continued to play in the background as you stared at the beautiful, broken man next to you. After the relentless abuse he'd endured for years, he should've been a cold, isolated individual devoid of all kindness- but he was the opposite.

He was kind and thoughtful and sweet, selfless beyond belief, and surprisingly funny. Admiration actually brought a few tears to your eyes as you stared at him, and nothing could pull your eyes from his perfectly sharp features and stubble-covered jaw line. Eventually, after you didn't know how long, exhaustion gripped you tight and pulled you down into the swirling, black rabbit hole of your subconscious.

Just as the birds began to chirp outside your window, a loud, metallic clanking sound woke you up. In a panic, you bolted out of bed, your eyes scanning the room for potential dangers.

"Hey, hey- that was me, you're fine. You're okay," Bucky murmured, "I'm sorry, I smacked my arm on the doorframe as I was coming out of the bathroom...clumsy moment".

The completely innocent explanation should've put you at ease, but it seemed that your panic attack had already sunk its teeth into your flesh, gnawing at you from the inside out. Bucky rushed to your side, knowing exactly what you were going through and how to help you out of it. He forced you to focus on nothing but him as he spoke: the steely blue color of his eyes, the gentle whirring sound of the mechanisms in his arm, the deep timber of his voice. The strategy helped calm your nervous system down after a few minutes, but the anxiety still left you breathless.

Bucky's quick reflexes caught you as a dizzy spell tried to send you to the floor. Concern furrowed his brow as he helped you sit down on your bed and stared down at you disapprovingly.

"We need to get some food in you, when's the last time you ate?"

Food hadn't really been a priority over the past 36 hours, and your search for the answer to his question come up empty. A huff left Bucky's chest as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, "alright-get changed and we'll go downstairs for some breakfast. Meet you in the hall in ten". He strode out of the room and shut the door behind him, off to have a quick shower and change the shirt you'd stained with your tears.

After getting yourself a shower and a fresh t-shirt and sweats, you joined Bucky in the hall and headed down for some breakfast. What you hadn't expected to find was a sea of new SWORD recruits swarming the first floor of the building like gnats. Excited chatter filled the air, but suddenly flatlined as the Bucky Barnes stalked through the room. Hushed whispers began popping up as the two of you made your way into the kitchen, which was filled with other residents of the compound.

"We're hiding from the newbies", Sam told Bucky as he sipped his coffee. Everyone's eyes locked on you, the woman who'd abused Bucky, standing awkwardly in their kitchen.

Bucky immediately read the uncomfortable vibe in the room, quickly making a plate for you before making one for himself, and gesturing toward the door.

"We can go eat out on the patio, it'll be quiet out there and-shit..." Bucky groaned, "I forgot to grab us some coffee. I'll be right back".

He turned back to the kitchen and left you standing alone in the hallway as cocky new agents appraised you from afar. More pointed whispers caught your attention, drawing your eye toward a table of particularly douchey looking men.

"She's ex Hydra..." you heard one of them say, followed by "we should just kill her right now- she doesn't deserve to be alive".

Their comments sounded awfully similar to the horrible things you'd said to yourself over the years, prompting tears to gather in the corners of your eyes.

"Got the coffee. Ready?" Bucky asked as he reappeared, but his casual tone was demolished by the look of hopelessness in your eyes.

"Thanks a lot, Barnes, but I, um, I'm just- I'm gonna go back to my room..." you placed your plate full of food on the decorative side table that sat only a few inches away and tried to scurry back to the elevator.

Bucky blocked your way, letting out a "Woah, hey- what happened?" as he stood between you and your desired path. It was embarrassing to tell Bucky just how much the comments of a few random strangers had hurt you, but there was no getting around it- or him.

"I'm gonna go talk to them..." he said as he placed his food and the coffees next to your plate. Your hand caught his bicep and gave it a squeeze, effectively stopping him in his tracks, "please don't, it's not that big of a deal".

He shook his head and gently removed your hand from his arm as he gave you a pointed look, "you need to eat. Just give me one second..." Before you knew it, he was crossing to the table of douchebag trainees. Embarrassment forced you to turn your back on the scene, only looking in Bucky's direction when you heard a loud commotion.

Steve was gripping Bucky by the shoulders, attempting to drag him away from the man he'd just punched. With a satisfied smirk, Bucky shook off Steve's grasp and rejoined you, murmuring a quick "ready?" as he led you to the patio.

The cloudless blue sky greeted you cheerfully as you stepped outside, pulling your lips into an involuntary smile. After being held in such a dark, cold cell for so long, the bright, warm morning was more than welcome. Bucky watched as you took in the fresh air and golden sun and for a moment, he felt like you were doing okay- that was until he noticed that you'd stopped eating.

About eighty percent of the food Bucky had put on your plate sat completely untouched, pulling Bucky’s features into a frown.

"Hey, come on, you need to eat".

"Oh, um…” There was no way you could possibly stomach another bite, and you knew you needed to tell Bucky why. “I can't eat very much in one sitting. Hydra didn't feed me all that much- or all that often- and so I…if I eat a ‘normal’ sized meal, I get sick".

Once again, you felt your cheeks reddening with embarrassment as you revealed yet another dark detail of your captivity.

After hearing your explanation, Bucky didn't push. He simply finished his food before taking your plate and digging in. "See, this is why we can be friends- I get all your leftovers". Hearing Bucky actually use the word "friends" when referring to you almost stopped your heart. He read the shock on your face and shot you a wink as he devoured your French toast and bacon without hesitation.

After Bucky finished his food-and yours- you sat together in comfortable silence, enjoying the warm weather and peaceful atmosphere. Suddenly, Bucky turned to you with something on his mind, "You said I could ask you anything, right?" With a nod, you allowed him to pick your brain a bit more, "So, how long ago were you, uh, rescued?" The timeline was still fuzzy to you, and it took an embarrassingly long amount of time to figure out the answer to his question, "Just over a year, I think".

Bucky was beside himself. Everything had happened to you so recently, leading him to believe that you were actually suffering way more than you were letting on. Just then, another question popped into his brain, "So if they found you about a year ago, where have you been this whole time...?"

There was no way to stop yourself from cringing as you thought over the last year of your life, and part of you wanted to keep it to yourself- but you'd promised Bucky complete honesty.

"Okay, so, Hill and some other agents infiltrated the base and found me", you began slowly, "and I spent a few weeks, I think, in the hospital. I wasn't- uh, I wasn't okay.” A dark look clouded your eyes as you thought about being in the hospital, broken, bruised, and alone. Bucky didn’t push you to keep going, and simply sat quietly as he waited for you to return from your memories.

“After I got out, I wanted to throw myself into work- anything to keep my mind off of what happened- but I obviously couldn't go back to Shield, cause- it had fallen apart. So, I got a gig at this really intense private security firm and I was f-fine...kind of. I started slipping a little, missing work- PTSD is a fucking bitch". Bucky nodded emphatically and mumbled "goddamn right" before motioning for you to continue.

"And then Fury reached out to me…set me up with this therapist, who I fucking hate, and-"

Bucky almost spit his coffee on you as he yelled, "Is it Dr. Raynor?!"

A powerful laugh threw your head back and made your stomach hurt until you couldn't breathe. "Yes! Dr. Raynor!" you finally gasped, sending Bucky into another laughing fit.

"Oh, I fucking hate her!" he almost yelled. The two of you sat locked in hysterics for a long time, until Bucky finally composed himself, "okay, sorry for the interruption. I just- God, Dr. Raynor sucks…anyway, please, continue.”

"Right. So, I started going to see her but I honestly think she only made things worse? I missed a lot more work, got fired, stopped seeing Dr. Raynor, and just kind of holed up in my shitty apartment for a while. It was...fine. I wasn't eating or sleeping, but I- anyway, because I didn't have a job, I, um, ran out of money. My landlord said he was gonna evict me, and...that's when Fury called. Told me he wanted me on the team. I agreed almost immediately, regardless of how fucked up I was- or, am. I needed something to do, you know? And then I asked if I could live here, since I was about to um, be homeless…and he said yes- but only if I go to my therapy sessions."

An exasperated sigh left Bucky's chest at the ultimatum you’d been saddled with, "yeah, did the same to me. I missed one and got fucking arrested..."

A long, intense eye roll overtook you, "seriously? That’s a little extreme.”

Bucky scoffed, “you’re tellin’ me”

An idea crossed your mind and you hesitated for a moment before voicing it, “Okay, I have an idea…" you proposed, "I'll make sure you go to your therapy sessions so you don't end up in prison, and you make sure I go to my therapy sessions so I don't end up homeless. Deal?"

Bucky offered you his metal pinky and linked it with yours, before shooting you a wink and promising to uphold his end of the bargain, "Deal".

[takes1]

hi hi, love your writing!! do you think we could get a part two to the Katsu getting horny cuddling the reader? not enough cuddle fuck Kats fics and tbh I crave them >:3

aaah tysm !! wholeheartedly agree, cuddle fuck kats fics are the best ! appreciate all the support and the request !

warnings. heavy nsfw, a creaky bed frame, minors stay off my lawn!!

details. afab!reader, aged up characters, friends with benefits, touch starved bakugou, communication problems, afab!rec. oral, soft kissy missionary sex, unprotected sex, bakugou has zero endurance, 2.3k words

🤍 scenario series. p.1 and full list here.

more links. my ao3 / bakugou headcanons / requests open

“Mm, I can be quick.”

Overwhelmed just to the point of subtle movement, your hand dove to block his before it could reach between your thighs. It was a thoughtless response; you were just as confused as him when his fingers ran over your cock-blocking knuckles.

A low grunt. He remembered his manners for a brief moment and used your own palm to press into your needy pussy, "You want me to?"

Bakugou had a great deal of leverage to move from behind. Hand still atop yours, he used his bottom arm to lift himself and lean over you to capture some of that ever-important eye contact.

Nervous, distracted by the sweeping waves driving your stomach to weaken for him, you backtracked, "To what?"

Some profound idea he didn't find it necessary to share had come over him. He was a difficult, bold guy-- yes, but between you, behind closed doors, this was a new and distinct type of Bakugou. In his cloudy eyes, you saw that you were on different pages, regarding the book of 'benefits' in your 'friendship.'

"To fuck you quick," He pressed a kiss to your temple and you felt the sly grin spread as he made sure to add, "So you can get some sleep?"

However, you couldn't say you didn't like this new line to the terms and conditions. Where was the pen?

You leaned up into a heated kiss. It was much less controlled and predictable than your usual kisses with him. Everything about this was so exciting, you couldn't believe you were tired three minutes ago.

When you pulled away, you only had the breath for a quiet, "Sure."

His body shifted completely over yours, hands sliding perfectly into the spaces between your fingers over your head, and he leaned forward to quiet the pain in his hips by wasting no time to settle against yours.

“Don’t sound so excited, Babe,” He muttered, amused, onto the dip of your neck.

A small wincey moan was only semi-covered by your laugh— the generous print in his sweatpants felt even better than it looked, and he had never called you Babe before. Why would he? You were just friends. Buddies. Pals.

“God, you feel so fuckin’ good.”

His fingers hooked into both the hem of your shorts and undies. Despite the nerve-wracking need to cover yourself, you let him throw both back into obscurity. While he was already in the business of removing clothes, your shirt was next to join the inky black of his floor.

He didn’t need to say anything about how gorgeous he thought you were, how much you turn him on, how he wants to fuck you ‘till you cry, because it was all there in the look of his wide, unblinking stare and the adorable new red across his face.

When he started tugging down on his waistband, a flinch gave your anticipation away and made him snort at how cute you were.

“Chill, I’m not pullin’ it out just yet,” Of course, he took the care to fold his pants in a neat square and place them on his bedside table, “Gonna have my fun, first.”

Your legs were spread open with a bit of a struggle on his part, then as he leaned down, he found that he needed to pry your arms away from your chest, too. He enjoyed this but took note of it for later.

‘Fun’ included his primary assault on your tits, squeezing, biting, twisting to hastily make up for all the lost time. While the sucking and occasional kisses were nice, his energy wasn’t translated correctly to your body. You were waiting for it to get better, so it took a minute of bearing through his oblivious state to speak up.

“Ah- um,” You seethed, trying to focus more on the delightful sensation of his body against the heat between your legs, not how painful and rough he was up top, “Katsuki— could you ah, be gentler?”

Frustration flashed across his face, and for a split second, you thought he was going to verbally assault you the way he did during your training time together.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Damn, speak up next time,” Bakugou hissed and dialed it back even more than you thought was necessary.

It wasn’t entirely his fault. He didn’t mean to hurt you. He was too eager, too into you.

The pain quickly gave way to the electrifying pleasure of his gentle, focused kisses and sucks. Every move was contemplated, so as to not repeat his mistakes. He honored your request by treating you like his sexy glass figurine.

While he had you all laid out for him, he indulged in marking you up in what started as easily concealed spots: your tummy, ribs, and chest. It promptly was not enough for him. Tomorrow, the dark spots all over your throat and shoulders would require a lie so elaborate you'd talk yourself into exhaustion.

Your thoughts, however, were not centered around anything beyond his slowly lowering mouth, kissing its way down your torso to your bare cunt.

He got himself comfortable, then subtly licked his lips, impatient to get a taste.

"Fuuuck," He groaned with a chuckle, gliding the length of his fingers up both sides of your clit, "Are you always so wet for me?"

He didn't wait for an answer -not that you'd be able to give him a coherent one- before shamelessly sliding the flat of his tongue across your patient pussy. A satisfied hum at the taste in his mouth carried your whine to a level louder than you counted on.

His intensity challenged that of a starving man. Hungry hands drove your thighs to his shoulders and he planted a burning, sloppy kiss to your clit.

"Aa-ah! Mmn, fu-ck," You cried, fingers spreading and closing around the roots of his unruly hair.

Throughout the course of a few minutes, he tried more techniques on you than you were aware existed. Types of patterns, methods, and different pressures to find what worked best on you. One that he tended to come back to was spelling out his name, but it didn't get as much traction with your response as he'd have liked.

His tongue settled for tight, fast circular motions around your swollen clit, encourgaging the quickly mounting pressure deep in your tummy.

Buzz buzz. Buzz buzz. Buzz buzz.

Nails dug into the plush of your hips, his focus stolen for a moment at the sound of his phone.

Buzz buzz. Buzz buzz. Buzz--

He lifted his head briefly, only to suffer your fierce scratching at his scalp.

"No," You had to swallow the spit that had gathered in your mouth so you didn't drool, "So close, keep going, please."

If you asked that nicely, he'd do anything. A little phone call was nothing if it meant you were that close to cumming in his mouth. Calmed by your fuck-me eyes and momentary silence, he dove to carry out the same circular motions with his tongue and muttered an annoyed curse at the calls that started up again.

Buzz buzz. Buzz buzz. Buzz buzz. Buzz buzz.

Buzz buzz. Buzz.

After some great fumbling, your shaky finger gave the relieving swipe to turn his phone off and at last, the buzzing was gone. There were a concerning amount of texts on his lock screen under the 'Do Not Disturb' banner, but it was negligible to your Very Important activities.

Though your progress had been lost from his momentary pause, it took very little time to work you back up to the edge of a hasty, hard orgasm. His tough palms found your hands in his hair and pried them out, restraining you from keeping him down again, as he tore himself away and denied you of your climax.

"Nonono," You glowered at him, but it looked much more pitiful than you intended it to with your glazed eyes and shivering.

He resurfaced, delivering a slew of kisses to your inner thigh, and wiped his chin with a mocking pout. Your thighs automatically closed, but he pushed them back open and out of his way to give you a bit of a show as he pulled his briefs down.

A heavy cock bounced free, stiff-upright, veiny, and very angry-looking about the delay. It was fitting against his hard stomach, appropriately receptive in his sculpted hands as he pumped himself with an immersed stare at his work beneath him.

"Yeeeah, you still wanna complain, Babe?" He gloated, relaxing into a soft, affectionate kiss.

One hand squeezed yours, the other positioning himself as he eased into you.

When he was able to tear his gaze away from your hips, he kept an attentive eye on you, since he feared accidentally hurting you again and didn't know your threshold yet.

To his relief, you were so well-prepped that you relaxed your head back onto the pillow with a delighted, aroused giggle. He bottomed out, the intense stretch such a welcomed sensation that you locked your legs around his waist to keep him there.

Now you understood why he didn't want you to finish before-- he wanted to fuck you there.

He kept himself buried deep and guided your free hand away from your clit so he could do it for you, completely immersed in the way your pussy took all of him so well.

"Should'a been- ah, fuckin' you-- way sooner..." He muttered, uneven, breathy, at his established pace.

While you were both keeping the volume hushed, with the exception of your occasionally higher whines, the bedframe was slamming against the wall with a loudness you slowly grew more aware of. Kirishima shared the adjacent dorm, and these buildings were not known for their high-quality walls.

Either he was not aware of this, or he enjoyed the noise -the more likely of the two options- because it only got louder the longer you carried on.

"Mmnh- AaAh, I'm... ah, I'm close--!" You reached up for him and seized a handful of his addictive hair.

His lips crashed into yours for a rushed kiss in an attempt to swallow all of your sweet, crescendoing sounds. He fucked you hard, held you close, through the height of your climax. He was muttering a broken string of praises, locked into an intense stare, as he picked up the pace for his own not too far out.

Both hands pushing your thighs down, he seethed, then groaned loud and unfiltered, "Fuck, fuck-- Aauh, fuck!"

You were in a warm, dizzy daze as he quickly pulled out. His cum, hot, thick, and sticky, painted your chest and tummy with a powerful force. The sight of him sweating, panting, still fucking you with his eyes, could've made you cum again with zero stimulation.

He muttered a breathless, "Holy shit...," because post-orgasm clarity was reminding him that you were still not an actual couple, even though you were panting underneath him like a tired little glazed donut.

You felt a little gross and sticky. "Why'd you have to get it all over me..."

The tissues on his nightstand looked tempting to reach for, but the nasty bastard started to lazily spread it more, with specific emphasis to get it all on your tits. You swatted his wrist and earned a chuckle as he leaned up to grab some.

BOOMBOOMBOOM.

Somebody was pounding outside on the balcony door. Your first thought was that it was Kirishima, but it didn't make enough sense. If he wanted to complain about the noise, then he wouldn't have hopped balconies to do it.

"Bakugou!!"

The handle jiggled and you both flinched hard. He went to cover you with his own body, then realized it was fortunately locked.

"Bakugou I know you're awake in there!! Let me iiiin please!"

BOOMBOOMBOOM.

Frozen still, you looked up at him with a frantic expression and tried to wipe the stuff off of you in a rush. He looked ready to kill and swiped his sweatpants from the nightstand, clumsily stepping back into them.

"Idiot's on the balcony-- of course he's on the fucking balcony at 2 a.m..." He muttered, supremely irate that your lovely time together was getting interrupted by, out of anyone, Kaminari.

"Bakugouuuu please!!"

Kaminari wasn't directly beside or above Bakugou's room. He must have jumped down to Kirishima's balcony, then hopped across.

Bakugou turned to you, tossing an additional blanket from under his bed, and instructed, surprisingly soft, "Just stay quiet and I'll keep him outside."

"'nd bury him," He added under his breath and slammed the door behind him.

Muffled yelling, some banging, skidding footsteps, and then somewhat normal speaking voices ensued as you could only lay still and try to listen. Another shout.

The sound of the door opening and closing was not enough to convince you to move or peek, especially when you heard one of the drawers of his cabinets slide open and close. However, Bakugou pulled down a little on the blanket to show you that it was safe, that it was only him. He handed you one of his shirts.

You tried not to make it a big deal, but he clocked your tiny smile almost right away.

"Shut up," He mumbled against your forehead and pressed a gentle kiss into your heated skin.

He picked up his phone from the nightstand to make himself look busy while you sat up and slid it on.

"What did he want?"

Scrolling through an unholy amount of missed calls and texts from Kaminari, he shook his head, "Dumbass forgot about the Powerpoint and asked me to send him my work, so he could 'use it as a reference.'"

[edenmemes]

skyward sword sentence starters

more to be added !

❝ you promised to meet me before it starts, remember? ❞ ❝ you seem pretty...relaxed about the whole thing. ❞ ❝ is something wrong? what’s the hurry? ❞ ❝ sometimes i just don’t know what’s going on in your head. ❞ ❝ i'm not like you. i fail at everything i try. ❞ ❝ a shrimpy boy like you hardly looks the part of a hero. ❞ ❝ swatting a few monsters will be no trouble for you. ❞ ❝ run and play this time. get in my way again, though, and you’re dead. ❞ ❝ don’t even pretend that was an accident! ❞ ❝ do you doubt these eyes? i look upon your shirt and i see a single thread loose on your sleeve stitching. ❞ ❝ this is no place for one such as you. and yet here you stand. ❞ ❝ i need to vent all this unhealthy anger,     and your agony is such a great stress reliever. ❞ ❝ remember what we discussed. restrain yourself. focus on the task at hand. ❞ ❝ do my words anger you? do my words sting? let them. ❞ ❝ you don’t come by here just to see me, do you? ❞ ❝ what’s wrong? you just made a face like you wanted to say something. ❞ ❝ oh, i get it. you’re trying to weasel out of having to practice. ❞ ❝ i guess it’s not all bad. at least i’m getting paid. ❞ ❝ there’s something i’ve been meaning to talk to you about.... ❞ ❝ would you wake up, straighten up, and grow a backbone already? ❞ ❝ nice try, but you’re not fooling me. ❞ ❝ i...i have to go. i’m sorry. ❞ ❝ folks were always cheering me on like it was a parade. but as you know, time passes. ❞ ❝ you keep some very strange company, friend. ❞ ❝ i don’t know if it’s safe yet...i’m going to stay here awhile longer. ❞ ❝ oh no. you’ve done it now! there’s no escaping this one! ❞ ❝ so, what now? are you going to cry? ❞ ❝ i can’t begin to tell you how sorry i am for pulling you into all of this. ❞ ❝ what is wrong with you? just look at what you’ve done! ❞ ❝ what we’ve seen here today defies explanation. ❞ ❝ you put up more of a fight than i would have thought possible out of such a soft person. ❞ ❝ did you really just draw your sword? foolish. ❞ ❝ should you heed the call of destiny,     i don’t know what dangers you may have to face. ❞ ❝ i can’t help being such a coward...i’m really sorry. ❞ ❝ i fear i spent far too long teasing and toying with you. ❞ ❝ you do your people proud. ❞ ❝ how long do we have to live in constant fear? ❞ ❝ i'll just beat you within an inch of your life! ❞ ❝ dawn is drawing near. it has been a long night for the both of us, hasn’t it? ❞ ❝ you were limp and unconscious. i feared the worst. ❞ ❝ what do you think you’re doing sneaking out with that? ❞ ❝ such a beautiful day, but we’re too busy to enjoy it. some things never change. ❞ ❝ i guess you’ll never learn unless you run into trouble one day. ❞ ❝ look at my face. if that’s your idea of a joke, i’m not laughing. ❞ ❝ you appeared to be relishing that snooze, so i declined to wake you. ❞ ❝ huh? oh, uh, nothing. really, i was, uh...talking to myself. ❞ ❝ you’re looking a little pale... ❞ ❝ i imagine you and i will cross paths again. until then, do not lower your guard. ❞ ❝ you certainly are persistent... ❞ ❝ all that may be well intentioned and true, but it doesn’t mean it’s right. ❞ ❝ i’m prepared to pay the price for what i’ve done. ❞ ❝ i had no idea we were fated to carry such a heavy destiny. ❞ ❝ i need your strength to tip the scales in our favor. ❞ ❝ all this training, and no results! ❞ ❝ all i’ve hears so far is a bunch of babbling about destiny,     but that’s a load of garbage. ❞ ❝ when night draws her tenebrous curtain across the sky, i come here. ❞ ❝ what in the world just happened? did you use some kind of magic? ❞ ❝ please, see it through and prove the legends true. ❞ ❝ i was happy just spending my days hanging around with you. i wanted that feeling to last forever. ❞ ❝ you are vital to a mission of great importance. ❞ ❝ the chances of that happening are just about less than zero. ❞ ❝ i hate to break it to you, but today’s the day i bust up this adorable little fantasyland you’re living in. ❞ ❝ this is a war, and the fate of the land hangs in the balance. ❞ ❝ i know you, and you’re no hero. ❞ ❝ you’re messing with me. say it again, i dare you. ❞ ❝ you float through life with your head in the clouds. ❞ ❝ i don’t do charity for wimps. ❞ ❝ what’s this...? what is it that my eyes behold? ❞ ❝ don’t even think about it! are we clear? ❞ ❝ the point is your work here is done. i got it covered from here. ❞ ❝ my eyes foresee a hazardous, thorny road ahead for you... ❞ ❝ you...this is your fault, you know. ❞ ❝ my heart is bursting with thoughts of you. ❞ ❝ i have a serious dilemma on my mind right now, and you’re distracting me. ❞ ❝ i’ll make you proud. you’ll see! ❞ ❝ feels dangerous. something could jump out at us at any moment. ❞ ❝ we’re talking about a tale that’s been passed down over a lot of years, so i wouldn’t put much stock in it. ❞ ❝ i have the right to experience an unfettered and passionate love, don’t i? ❞ ❝ i’ll tell you, it gives even a big guy like me the creeps. ❞ ❝ oh...how can i get you to notice me? ❞ ❝ i get the feeling nothing i can say will talk you out of it. ❞ ❝ my love for you is wider than the horizon and deeper than the clouds. ❞ ❝ trust my piercing eyes...listen to my pure and innocent voice. ❞ ❝ i feel so excited, so cheerful, so full of life. ❞ ❝ i sense a silent power dwelling somewhere in your frame. ❞ ❝ this turn of events has left me with a strong appetite for bloodshed. ❞ ❝ there’s no doubting it. the gears of fate have begun to turn. ❞ ❝ i'm sorry. i was lost in thought there for a moment. ❞ ❝ don’t men open doors for a lady anymore? how long am i supposed to stand here waiting for a little chivalry? ❞ ❝ i hate even saying this, but i guess you got it all figured out. ❞ ❝ you must not push yourself. you’re still recovering. ❞ ❝ you think you’re pretty suave, don’t you? ❞ ❝ i know you’re in a hurry, so i really appreciate you taking the time to help. ❞ ❝ i saw it, but i was able to escape by the seat of my pants. ❞ ❝ do you have any idea how that made me feel inside? furious! outraged! sick with anger! ❞ ❝ you’re really something else. i could never imagine myself doing what you’re about to do. ❞ ❝ i must aid you in fulfilling the great destiny that is your burden to carry. ❞ ❝ i should have believed you...i’m sorry. ❞ ❝ lately, when i think about you, my head gets all fuzzy, my heart races, i get short of breath, and i feel all dizzy... ❞ ❝ you should know better than that to fret about me. ❞ ❝ thanks for jumping in there to rescue me. ❞ ❝ hey, hold on there! what are you trying to pull all of a sudden? ❞ ❝ your face cries out in earnest wonder, and that cry is: ‘what’s this?!’ ❞ ❝ i promise up front not to murder you. ❞ ❝ you...didn’t hear any of that, did you? there’s no way you heard, right? ❞ ❝ i tell you, all sorts of weird things are going on lately. ❞ ❝ calamitous visions appear before me... ❞ ❝ you...make me so happy...i think i’m going to keel over... ❞ ❝ i wanted you to be the first to see me like this. ❞ ❝ i can’t imagine a more fitting color for you. it’s as though you were born to wear it. ❞ ❝ i bet you can’t even decide what to have for lunch on your own, huh? ❞ ❝ amazing, right? wrong! it is beyond amazing! ❞ ❝ it can’t be easy for you, can it? ❞ ❝ you’ll see in time that you have your own role to play in all this. ❞ ❝ trust in fate to guide your feet. ❞ ❝ i bet you’re here just to check me out, right? ❞ ❝ i just hope nothing has happened. i’m worried sick thinking about it. ❞ ❝ whoa...you’re kind of imploding my mind right now. ❞ ❝ if you wanna live again one day, you should head for home. ❞ ❝ you have a great journey before you, and those clothes...they don’t look up to the task. ❞ ❝ did you manage to get even a wink of sleep last night? ❞ ❝ ever heard of banging your knuckles against the door? it’s called knocking. ❞ ❝ so, uh...yeah. just how long have you been standing there? ❞ ❝ honestly, it’s almost as though you become a completely different person when you worry about me. ❞ ❝ you showing up here must mean we’re connected somehow. like fate. ❞ ❝ sorry to put you through that. i guess i owe you one now. ❞ ❝ to tell you the truth, i’m feeling a little frustrated, and right now i just need someone to vent to. ❞ ❝ what’s with you? leave me alone if you don’t want anything. ❞ ❝ hearing that is such a...huge weight off my mind. ❞ ❝ though your journey will put you in harms way, you must endure. ❞ ❝ i'm just deadweight. what kinda use is that to anyone... ❞ ❝ seriously, what is that thing over there?! ❞ ❝ before i say another word, i feel like i owe you an apology. ❞ ❝ during your long journey, you’ve grown so much. ❞ ❝ from the moment i laid my eyes on you, i could tell you had a gentle and generous heart. ❞ ❝ oh dear...i don’t know what’s come over me all of a sudden... ❞ ❝ you don’t appear to have any serious injuries. for that much we can be grateful. ❞ ❝ i can see into those dopey eyes of yours. ❞ ❝ i can finally smile and laugh again! thank you ever so much. ❞ ❝ i think i might of broke something. ❞ ❝ is that it? i thought it was going to put up more of a fight. ❞ ❝ i thought we were goners this time. sort of glad i was wrong about that. ❞ ❝ what? i don’t seem like my usual self? ❞ ❝ this place needs a name. a name fitting for this rugged, adventurous wilderness. ❞ ❝ what were you thinking? you scared a year off my life! ❞ ❝ care to explain just what you meant by ‘our special moment alone’? ❞ ❝ my advice? work hard and wish with all your heart. ❞ ❝ say, you look all flustered. ❞ ❝ i fear we can’t dwell on our success. ❞ ❝ the world is bursting with undiscovered surprises, isn’t it? ❞ ❝ you're not exactly mr/mrs.perfect either, are you? ❞ ❝ this is easily as scary as i thought it would be. ❞ ❝ i swear this neighborhood’s getting crummier every day. ❞ ❝ you ain’t as dumb as you look. ❞ ❝ i was going to ask if you wanted me to take care of you forever... ❞ ❝ i need to learn how to keep these delirious dreams in check. ❞ ❝ maybe you should forget about everything that happened here tonight. ❞ ❝ can you imagine a more gruesome fate? ❞ ❝ there are more monsters about than before, so be careful. ❞ ❝ human desire is an insatiable, fearsome thing. ❞ ❝ i sense an evil presence on the other side of this door. ❞ ❝ you understand, don’t you? i’m not wrong about this, am i? ❞ ❝ i never wanted to lay eyes on you again. ❞ ❝ i would have gotten discouraged if you hadn’t come by to cheer me on. you gave me motivation. ❞ ❝ who do you think you are, getting involved in my business like that? ❞ ❝ i just wish there was more i could do for you... ❞ ❝ i don’t even understand how you could make such a wild accusation! ❞ ❝ it was at that moment i finally realized. i realized that...i love you. ❞ ❝ make sure you come home every now and then. nothing like a good sleep in your own bed. ❞ ❝ you’d better not keep me waiting. ❞ ❝ make sure you put your heart into it! i won’t stand for anything but your best. ❞ ❝ how could you be swayed by the temptation of material gain?     do you have no honor? ❞ ❝ you really want to hear about all my troubles? that’s kind of you. ❞ ❝ you...weren’t supposed to see that whole spectacle. how embarrassing... ❞ ❝ you have only succeeded in buying us a little more time. ❞ ❝ watch it! that’s no way to talk to someone who just saved your life! ❞ ❝ you look like you need to get something off your chest. ❞ ❝ know that all the questions you have now will be answered in time. ❞ ❝ there is nothing natural about these tremors. ❞ ❝ you might just be the person i need! you seem pretty good with the ladies. ❞ ❝ it’s great to hear you’re so confident in me. ❞ ❝ ideal love is unfettered and passionate. anything less than that can’t really be called love at all. ❞ ❝ you're incessant buzzing around my head like some irksome gadfly when i’m this busy is...making me very disagreeable. ❞ ❝ you may not have noticed, but i’m trying to hide here.     could you please scoot along? ❞ ❝ you'd better keep your eyes to yourself, if you know what i mean. ❞ ❝ have you come to laugh at me in my miserable state? ❞ ❝ you...you came to see me! i’m so happy. ❞ ❝ your job is simple! you make sure none of these monsters lays a claw on me. not...one...claw. ❞ ❝ now is not the time to be picky about who will help you. ❞ ❝ watch carefully while i demonstrate what a real hero looks like. ❞ ❝ you are something else! there is nothing you cannot do. ❞ ❝ if you think about how often we meet, you have to admit that our relationship has gone beyond friendship, you know? ❞ ❝ i’ll make the affair so excruciating, you’ll deafen yourself with the shrill sound of your own screams. ❞ ❝ i was right, then. there is something special about you. ❞ ❝ i should have reprimanded you the last time we met, but instead i was...soft. ❞ ❝ ha-ha! you didn’t see that coming, did you? ❞ ❝ you really are a snake in the grass. ❞ ❝ you are indeed worthy of being called a hero. ❞ ❝ i’m not used to getting stared at like this. it’s making me blush. ❞ ❝ i can’t hide anything from you, can i? ❞ ❝ the longer i train, the more i realize i’ll never measure up to you. ❞ ❝ whoa...you took out every last one of them. ❞ ❝ i know how bad this must look to you right now, but i assure you i mean no harm. ❞ ❝ it’s all very strange, but i doubt there’s much of a connection between these things. ❞ ❝ you're a weird one, climbing all the way up here. ❞ ❝ don’t cry --- it’s perfectly, mostly safe! ❞ ❝ you and i, we’re bound by that thread of fate. destined to fight. ❞ ❝ meet me in battle, and the thread of fate that binds us will be soaked crimson with your blood. ❞ ❝ i do not wish to dwell on what may have happened if you hadn’t been here. ❞ ❝ you have awakened a wrath that will burn for eons! ❞ ❝ you really like those fantasy stories, eh? ❞ ❝ there is one teensy, tiny thing i lack...namely, mercy. ❞ ❝ i must warn you, i won’t go easy on you this time. ❞ ❝ i might be willing to forgive and forget if you’ll strike a deal. ❞ ❝ since i know i can be honest with you, i’ll admit i got a little sulky. it was frowns all around. ❞ ❝ i see you’re still among the living. ❞ ❝ i saw them dragging you off unconscious, so i tailed them. ❞ ❝ i want you to visit me at my house tonight. ❞ ❝ you don’t have to say a word. i can see how you feel by the spark in your eye. ❞ ❝ you’ll see. i’ll be as tough as you in no time. ❞ ❝ it’s not like ‘oh, hey, that person’s back! i’m so happy!’ or anything like that... ❞ ❝ whoa...that’s some really terrible handwriting. ❞ ❝ i would very much like it if you would go out with me. ❞ ❝ truly? you choose me? ❞ ❝ i swear to you, whatever it takes, i will drag you into an eternity of torment. ❞ ❝ you and i, we’re bound by a thread of fate. ❞ ❝ i’ll watch over you, protecting you from afar. ❞ ❝ until then, we’ll keep our love secret. ❞ ❝ this news has just filled my heart with rainbows! ❞ ❝ this place seems strangely familiar... ❞ ❝ don’t you gotta take care of your own business first? ❞ ❝ they’re not going to do anything nice if they catch you. ❞ ❝ it’s not humane to tease someone this bored. ❞ ❝ i’m not some sideshow for you to gawk at. ❞ ❝ it’s weird to say out loud, but that’s just how i feel right now. ❞ ❝ you can’t break me with interrogation. you’ll never make me talk. ❞ ❝ word is there’s a huge treasure hidden in these here ruins... ❞ ❝ what? that’s not weird to say! ❞ ❝ ...i understand your true feelings. better than you know. ❞ ❝ all the fairytales that we heard growing up...they appear all too real. ❞ ❝ do i look sad? no, i’m doing what i want to do! ❞ ❝ i don’t know what came over me! i had no clue i had the talent to make something like this. ❞ ❝ you shouldn’t be out here in the open with no way to defend yourself. ❞ ❝ you do have the tendency to cause trouble for those you ‘help’. ❞ ❝ as far as i’m concerned, i got nothing but time. ❞ ❝ don’t you play coy with me. i know that you know, so why not let me in on the fun? ❞ ❝ so you really think a sob story like that is going to work on me? what a joke. ❞ ❝ i’d take pleasure in punishing you, but i have no time for recreation. ❞ ❝ sorry to leave you on your own, but you look like you can handle it. ❞ ❝ remember --- it’s a secret to everybody. ❞ ❝ it isn’t as action packed as what you’re doing, but maybe this is my destiny. ❞ ❝ don’t you just love the way it smells down here? ❞ ❝ defending the land...it’s my purpose, i think. it’s why i’m here. ❞ ❝ what do i know...you might just surprise me. ❞ ❝ fibber! you’re a fibbity fibber! ❞ ❝ you needn’t even say it. i can tell from the look of sheer astonishment on your face. ❞ ❝ you have had this destiny thrust upon you without warning...    or choice, for that matter. ❞ ❝ don’t do anything heroic and get yourself caught. ❞ ❝ ...you want to tell me but you can’t? ❞ ❝ you know, i really worry about you. it’s a weakness of mine. ❞ ❝ try not to get in the way of my shots, ok? ❞ ❝ i haven’t slept a wink in...ahhh...i don’t even know how long. ❞ ❝ i had my suspicions, but until now i wasn’t sure. ❞ ❝ you seem a good deal stronger than the last time we met. ❞ ❝ i would be remiss if i didn’t let you know of the weight on my heart. ❞ ❝ i have a reputation to protect, you know. ❞ ❝ listen closely. do you hear that? ❞

[acourtofsnakes]

Returning The Favour - Bucky Barnes x F! Reader part 2 (smut)

Summary: After one hell of a day, you decide to help Bucky relax, and to repay the favour from a few nights ago. 

Warnings: 18+ only, smut ahead! Oral/blowjob – M receiving, hand job – m receiving, swearing/cursing, p in v sex (unprotected) – doggy style, face sitting, cowgirl, just pure filth, tbh. 

Smut under the cut!!

Word count: 4.5k+

A/n: A little bit of body positivity added in here too. You are all beautiful, and don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise  

A/N: This is part 2 of A Helping Hand, but as there isn’t much of a plot (aside from the smut. I mean, c’mon), it can also be read as a standalone!! It touches briefly on the plot of FATWS, but nothing really detailed. 

Permanet Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @mypedrom @undiscovered-misunderstood​

Part 1

A few weeks had passed by since that night Bucky had devoured you, tearing your soul to pieces and burning through you like wildfire. 

You hadn’t stopped thinking about it… and hadn’t stopped thinking about him. 

His hands on your body, searing lines into your skin, one hot and one cold. 

The drag of his tongue inside your walls, letting you ride his face whilst the world crashed down through you. 

His hand, that damned vibranium hand fucking you into oblivion. 

God, you needed him. You needed more of him, all of him. You wanted him to tear you apart again and knit you back together with his lips and his tongue. 

You wanted him to feel the same release you had the same earth-shattering pleasure. 

You’d tried to calm the fire by using your own fingers and toys, but no matter how much you replayed that night in your head – in perfect clarity – it just wasn’t the same anymore. 

Your toys, which you had spent a hell of a lot of money on… just didn’t do it. They weren’t enough. 

They weren’t… him. 

You couldn’t concentrate on your work, earning you more disapproval from Fury and he even asked you what the hell was going on and would you mind keeping your thoughts on the job, not on whatever was making you zone into space for twenty minutes straight with that look on your face. 

Luckily, you had managed to escape anymore of Nick’s wrath, by tagging along with Bucky as he went to help Sam, who was engaged in trying to take down a group of rebels called the Flag Smashers. 

You’d arrived to help him and the three of you set about doing what you could, also whilst trying to avoid John Walker, who had been rebranded as the new Captain America. 

Touchy subject. Best not to go there. 

Anyway, back on the case of the Flag Smashers.  They were being supplied with Super soldier serum from someone called the Power Broker, and the boys were at a loose end as to how to learn more. 

Well of course, there was one person who was the most knowledgeable about the serum. 

Helmut Zemo, a Sokovian villain who looked like he’d walk straight out of a film about British spies, fast cars and imaginative villains. 

You knew Bucky’s past with him, of course. 

You had fought alongside the others when Zemo triggered Bucky into becoming the Winter Soldier again. 

So, you had to admit you were surprised when you learned that Bucky himsef had ‘hypothetically’ given Zemo the way out of his German prison. 

Plans had been made, which is how tonight, you’d found yourself in Madripoor, each of you posing as a different persona. 

Sam was to be the ‘Smiling Tiger.” 

You were Zemo’s… acquaintance. His “Little Bird” he’d called you – much to Bucky’s frustration. At first, you thought it was simply because Zemo was… well, he was a ‘bad guy’. 

But as the night wore on, you noticed the looks Bucky shot the pair of you, his jaw clenching every single time Zemo’s hand brushed your waist, or he pressed his nose to your hair. 

The Baron didn’t touch you in any way you hadn’t already discussed, and you were comfortable but… the icy glint in Bucky’s eye, the tightening of his mouth when you asked him what was wrong, and he stayed silent… 

Something more was going on. More than just the role he was required to play. 

Bucky was be the Winter Soldier again. The very man he tried so desperately to escape from, the man who’s actions he was still trying to make amends for. 

You’d had to watch him play the Soldier all night, watch the tension build and build in the clenched muscle of his jaw, in the hard line of his shoulders and the tight prowl in his walk. 

Which was why, after escaping a fight and getting a little banged up yourself, you were looking into the mirror in your hotel room, adjusting the straps of the lingerie set you had slipped into. 

Okay, so maybe it was cliché. 

But Bucky had had one hell of a night. You could practically feel the tension rolling off of him from his hotel room opposite your own. 

You still had a favour to repay him, so why not go all out? He deserved it. 

Besides, you had spent a long time working up the confidence to look into the mirror and be happy and proud of what you saw, instead of feeling the need to change. 

You were proud of yourself and needed no-one else’s approval. 

But it didn’t mean it wasn’t rewarding to hear. 

Especially from a man with a wicked jawline and killer baby-blues. 

With one final shake of your hair, you pulled on your silky robe, padding to the door of your hotel room and you slipped into the cool hallway. Goosebumps rose on your skin as you moved across the plush carpet, knocking on Bucky’s door. 

Thank the lords, saints, old-gods and the new that Zemo was a Baron. This hotel was expensive, luxurious and did not have that funky smell that most hotels seemed to have. 

The rooms were lavish and richly decorated, the bathroom dripping with taste and money and the bed… well. The bed was certainly big enough for what you had in mind tonight. 

You were thoroughly determined to wreck the neatly folded covers. 

A few moments later, you heard footsteps and then the door opened. Those eyes greeted you, though they were deeper, like the colour of the sea in a storm. 

Bucky tilted his head, one hand braced on the door to open it, frowning slightly when he saw you. It was late after all. “Is everything alright, doll?” He peered down the hallway, like he was looking for threats. 

You shook your head lightly, “Nothing’s wrong, Bucky…” Lifting your eyes to his through your lashes, you moved your hands to the front of your robe, “I just thought I’d return the favour. And help you relax…” 

At your honeyed tone, at the movement in your hands, Bucky went rigid. Less in a tense way, more in anticipation. His eyes zeroed in on your hands, watching as you undid the sash and let the silk robe fall open, baring your body to him. 

Clad in gorgeous lace and delicate fabric of your favourite colour, the lingerie clung to the shape of your body, flaunting it and accentuating every beautiful line. 

Oh, it had so been worth the small fortune it cost. 

You were glad you had purchased more.

The door creaked, wood protesting as his vibranium arm gripped it. Bucky’s pupils dilated, black blotting out the blue as he raked his eyes over every inch of you. It wasn’t creepy or possessive. It was… worshipping. Awestruck. 

You had him in the palm of your already. 

Soon, it would be physically. 

“Are you going to let me in, Buck? There’s so many ways I could help you relax…” You let the robe slip off of your shoulders, leaving you incredibly bare in the middle of the very open hallway, in the very expensive, reputable hotel. 

But you didn’t care. 

Not with the way his Arctic eyes had deepened to the colour of cobalt, searing into you with the same fire that he had consumed with the other night. 

Not as he stood back, letting you in and following every single movement you made, the sway of your hips, the feline smile gracing your lips as you sashayed past him. He was enraptured by you, rendered helpless by the mere sight of you.

You saw his hands clench just before he turned to shut the door, like he was stopping himself from pulling you into his body and shredding the scraps of lace and velvet that were a barrier to your gorgeous skin and curves. 

The door snicked shut softly, shutting you both off from the rest of the world. 

You turned to face Bucky, extending your hand to him, “Come here.” You kept that honey rich tone, but you had no need to raise your voice, because Bucky had moved before the words even left your mouth. 

He slid his left hand into yours, the vibranium cool against the warmth of your skin. It was welcome, for you were burning an inferno inside that you were hiding very, very well. In fact, you were already wet, since the moment you slipped that lingerie on and saw your refection in the mirror. 

You pressed your lips to the back of Bucky’s hand, saying with movement what you knew he wouldn’t believe in words. 

That it was beautiful, strong… an extension of the graceful, deadly power that he had honed. You were never, ever afraid of it. Not even tonight, when he was playing the Soldier. Not even when he was the Soldier. 

Lifting your eyes to his, you let your tongue dart out, tracing along the golden grooves in the plates of dark vibranium. 

Fuck, the mere taste of the cool metal brought you back to that night. 

You moaned a little in the back of your throat, appreciatively and flattened your tongue over his knuckles, bringing his fingers into your mouth and sucking on them delicately, just as you had before. Except this time, it was you in charge. 

Bucky twitched, in every sense of the word. The plates of his arm clicked just faintly, like he was restraining himself even as a soft growl rumbled in the base of his chest. The sight of you sucking on his fingers again only made his jeans even more uncomfortable and he longed to feel your hot wet tongue on his skin. Every single inch of his skin. 

His own hand wasn’t enough anymore, especially not after that night. It had been near painful for him when he left, and he’d barely made it back to his own room before his hand was jamming into his boxers and he fucked his own palm until he was crying your name through gritted teeth. 

Never before had he felt such an urge to have feeling in his left hand, to feel your walls clench around him as you fell apart above him. 

It was like you could read his mind. 

You slipped off of his fingers with a small pop, a wicked gleam in your eyes as you dropped your hands to his belt buckle. Seconds later, you were undoing the zipper to his jeans, wasting no time in looping your fingers into both the waistband of his jeans, and the band of his boxers. 

You pulled them slowly down, lower and lower past his hips until his heavy swollen cock sprung free. 

Holy fucking shit. 

He was huge. 

Thick and smooth, the head already swollen and leaking. 

You wanted to taste him. 

You wanted him down your throat and buried inside you every single way until you could feel nothing but him, think of nothing but him. 

Forcing back your impatience, you slowly lowered, pulling his jeans down until they reached his ankles, and you were on your knees before him. 

Looking up through your eyelashes, you saw his head tilted down to watch you, is chin touching his chest. Those ridiculous eyes were fiercely burning, and his full, plush lips had parted in an effort to suck in more air. 

Oh, you were going to wreck him. 

You rose up a little higher, pressing your lips to the patch of neatly trimmed curls before following a trail lower, and then dragging your tongue up the underside of his cock, over that swollen vein that made you positively feral. 

Bucky’s hands flew into your hair, a barely restrained groan rising from his chest and he muttered, “Shit – shit.” 

Barely able to restrain the grin, you darted your tongue into the tiny slit, gathering that little bead of precum and then you took him into your mouth, inch by inch.

Fucking hell.

He was heavy, hot in your mouth and the velvety feel of his skin against your tongue and teeth was something you might just have died to feel again. 

You kept him still for a second, really wanting to draw this out for him – and because the weight of him against your jaw was sending floods of pleasure between your thighs and you knew the expensive lace of your underwear was already drenched. 

Bucky twitched, both inside your mouth and out and he tugged a little on your hair, “Baby, you gotta move – please, move.” 

Had this been a normal game you were playing; you might have let him suffer a little longer. But this was about relaxing him, about making him feel better so you granted him his wish and began to bob your head up and down. 

His soft moans were a symphony to your ears, a song you quickly learned the rhythm of as you moved faster, hollowing your cheeks now and then so he felt the drag of your wet, warm cheeks. 

His moans turned into curses when you reached up to toy with his balls, massaging them just slightly as you dragged your lower teeth against the vein. 

He jerked forward, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat suddenly, “Fuck, sorry baby, I didn’t mean to-“ 

His apologies were almost stammered, but you swiftly cut him off with a sinful moan. 

The mere feel of him, the pressure of him pushing against your throat nearly made you explode there and then. 

Your eyes rolled back slightly, hips rocking against nothing by instinct and fingers digging into his thighs. 

Bucky swore softly under his breath, his voice nothing more than a broken whisper, “You – you liked that?” 

Nodding around him, you pulled all the way off briefly, “Yes.” You gasped the word, pumping him with your hand a few times before taking him in your mouth again, sucking him with all the force of someone eating a five-star meal. 

You devoured him, setting a relentless pattern of kitten licks, hollowing your cheeks and licking that throbbing vein. You let him brush the back of your throat a few times, never gagging, only crying out with pleasure at the press of him. 

And Bucky’s moans… God, you could forgo music for the rest of your life and listen only to those noises his made. 

Wanting more, more of those delicious moans and growls from him, you relaxed the muscles in your throat, pushing him down all the way until your nose was once again brushing his curls. 

It was hard to distinguish your moan from his, the way his hands yanked hard in your hair, your fingers digging into his ass cheeks to force him deeper down your throat. You took a deep breath in through your nose, moaning at the heady scent of him as it pervaded your sense. 

More, - you wanted to take him deeper and deeper until you couldn’t speak tomorrow without feeling him there. 

You slid a hand down, grasping his balls once again and you palmed them, massaging and tugging them as you shook your head lightly against him, making him rock against your windpipe.

“Fuck!” Bucky’s head tilted back, his rough moan bouncing off the elaborately decorated walls and his legs trembled, signalling how close he was, how thoroughly you were hauling him toward that edge. 

You felt his balls tighten in your hand, felt how close he was so you squeezed them harder and at the same time, swallowed around the thick length of him.  

A broken version of your name echoed above your, both of his hands tightening in your hair so fiercely, you feared he might snap a bone. “Shit, shit-” His hips jerked forward and then he shattered apart, exploding in hot ropes down your throat. 

You heard him mutter an apology, but you didn’t care, you couldn’t care because he tasted divine. 

You drew back slowly, pumping him a few times with your free hand until he was gasping in a ragged breath, his legs threatening to give way, so with a gentle judge, you pushed him back on the bed. 

He plopped down weakly, watching with wide eyes as you lifted your head, wiping the corner of your mouth with a feline grin. “Sweetheart, that was-“

A finger to his lips cut him off, “Oh, no no. I’m not done with you yet, Buck.” You quickly rid him of his shirt, revealing the broad plane of his shoulders and chest and then you urged him up the bed. As he lay back, you climbed on top of him, rising up on your knees. “I believe you made me come… three times was it?” 

And that was when James Buchanan Barnes whimpered. A sound of pure carnal need and anticipation. 

You grinned at him, reaching behind your chest to unclasp the delicate bra, before sliding it from your shoulders and throwing it to the side of the room. “I intend to repay the favour, and then some, Soldier.” You reached down for both his hands, placing them on your breasts. One warm, one icy cold. 

Both your moans echoed in tandem, especially when he tightened his hands, squeezing and pulling at the soft flesh. “So beautiful…” He mumbled the words lowly, his voice a rough rasp and his ministrations caused you to arch your back further into his touch, allowing yourself a moment of pleasure. 

But not for too long, because you soaked through the lace of your underwear, and you might well have been dripping down your thigh at this point. Dropping a hand, you moved your underwear to the side, before gliding your fingers through your glistening folds. 

Yep, you were right. 

“All of this is for you, Bucky. Because of how good you tasted in my mouth.” You moaned delicately, eyelashes fluttering as you circled your clit a few times, “How thick you were in my throat.” You gathered some of your wetness on your fingertips, before pressing them to Bucky’s lips, “See...”

He wasted no time in drawing your fingers into his mouth, dragging his teeth along the skin and cleaning every single millimetre. He seemed determined to pay you back, to try and make you feel some of the desperation he had felt. 

You let it go, only because the combination of his hands pulling at your nipples and his hot tongue sliding between your fingers. You lowered down, resting over his already hardened length before dragging up and down it a few times, coating him in your slick. Low moans came from your throat, your eyes fluttering closed as you rocked yourself against him, waiting for him to recover for round two. 

He soon groaned around your fingers, earning you a muffled, “Baby.” In an impatient tone as he twitched underneath you, hard and throbbing again.

Fine, you could give in. 

You grasped his cock, before rising up and then lowering back down, taking him in. 

Every single damn inch of him. 

The stretch of your walls was painfully delicious, making you throw your head back and cry out softly, a low keen until you were seated on his thighs again. He was buried to the hilt inside of you and you could feel him everywhere. In your belly, in your toes, in your spine even. 

Bucky’s back arched off of the bed, teeth clamping down on your fingers and his hands tightening on your breasts, before falling to your thighs where his fingertips dug into the soft flesh, “Fucking hell.” He gasped in a breath, lowering his head, “Look at me.” 

The words were choked as you dropped your chin, meeting his eyes and the look int hem nearly floored you. 

Near midnight blue with desire and lust, but they glinted like the night sky, full of admiration and… adoration of you. Complete and utter adoration. 

Shit.

You stayed where you were for a second, speechless from the look of unbarred emotion on his face as the pair of you adjusted. Bucky soon swallowed, croaking again, “Move, darlin’ – please, move.” 

Well, you didn’t need telling twice. 

You rose up off him a few inches, before dropping back down with enough force to sear your spine in half. You quickly set an earth-shattering pace, rising up before sinking back down, his hips rising to meet you and push that little bit further inside. 

Once again, the room filled with the scent of sex, the symphony of your bodies gliding with each other, mixed with Bucky’s rough moans and mutterings and your keening cries. 

His hands grasped your hips, tight enough to bruise even with his right hand, but you didn’t care. You wanted to be marked, you wanted to feel him tomorrow. 

And you wanted to mark him too. 

You dropped down over his body, bringing him for a messy, deep kiss that was all stroking tongues and teeth. 

He groaned into your mouth when you rotated your hips around him, this new angle causing your clit to drag against his firm muscles and rough curls. 

The sensation was absolutely mind-blowing, and you dragged your mouth from his to bite at his jaw and neck, swearing against his hot skin, “Fucking hell, Bucky, you feel so good. You have no idea how good you feel – filling me up. So big-” The words were stumbly, broken sentences but you knew he understood them because he matched them. 

Telling you how tight you were, how deep you were taking him. How good you looked fucking yourself and taking what you deserved – it was all yours. 

You soon felt the pressure build in your lower back and belly, at the same time Bucky’s hips were snapping up into yours with more urgency. Quickly, you dragged yourself back to sit up, and began to ride him with wild abandon. His left hand came up to yours, giving you an anchor as you fucked him relentlessly, making the pair of you cry out with wordless groans of ecstasy. 

To Bucky, you looked like – no, you were a goddess. Your body moving with carnal grace, head thrown back and those gorgeous moans and curses falling from your parted lips. 

To him… there would never be a more beautiful sight. 

Just as you began to grind your hips in circles with each downward motion, words started to spill from those plush lips, like he wasn’t in control, “You have no idea how much I wanted to tear Zemo apart tonight. His hands all over you – they shouldn’t be there. You shouldn’t be touched like that.” 

His lips parted wider for a moment, his hips thrusting up to meet your circular motions and it made the head of his cock thud against that spot deep inside you, sending shockwaves through your spine. 

Your whimpering plea spurred him on, kept him hitting that spot with hard pressure that threatened to tear you to pieces, “You’re a goddess - Not a fucking piece of arm candy. The sight of him touching you-” He snarled, pulling you down hard on his dick for a second, taking the opportunity to rotate his own hips this time, “That should be me. Worshipping you. Not him.” 

His rough words and the sheer intensity of his thrusted hurtled you closer and closer to that edge, the admissions sending just as much pleasure through you as his hard length. 

That should be me.

Did he mean…?

You looked down through hazed eyes, like you were seeing all of this with a fresh gaze. 

Bucky was already a mess beneath you, his head tilted back, and the line of his throat held taught. His deep curls with a mess, ruffled up over his forehead and the pillows. 

Beautiful. 

Bucky’s hips were starting to lose rhythm as he jerked up into you, but he never failed to repeatedly hit that spot, again and again. 

You both chased down your orgasms, and with one final grind of your hips, one final sharp jerk of his own, you fell to pieces in tandem. 

Bucky’s back arched, freezing as he spurted his hot load up inside you, at the same time your walls clenched around him, milking him for everything he had as your combined wetness slipped down his balls, making a mess of his skin – and the bed. 

Like either of you could care. 

Time lost all meaning yet again as you came down from your high, and later, you’d remember only by the places your bodies occupied. 

Bucky hauled you up, finished with the lack of control and he took you against the floor to ceiling windows, your breasts pressed to the cool glass, the city twinkling below you as Bucky fucked you deep from behind, that vibranium hand against fitted snug around your throat. 

Then on the plush rug in front of the fireplace, his dick sliding down your throat again as his tongue dragged between your folds, your knees braced either side of his head as you held onto his thighs. 

When you retired to the sunken tub to wash up, you found yourself seated on Bucky’s lap, riding him once more with the hot, jasmine scented water splashing over the ornate tiles, your combined moans mingling with the steamy air. 

The whole time, Bucky’s words played over and over in your head, echoing in the tiny space of your mind that wasn’t sex-addled. 

He wanted to be the one to walk into a club with you on his arm. He wanted everyone in the room to know he worshipped the very ground you walked on, the air that you breathed. 

It wasn’t like the feelings weren’t reciprocated either. 

It had been the blue-eyed soldier in the forefront of your mind for months and months now, perhaps even far before that. 

And it wasn’t until you were back on the bed, covers strewn on the floor that things truly shifted. 

Bucky’s hands were gripping your thighs, pulling you down to fuck his face and tongue whilst you gripped onto the headboard, his groans of delight muffled against your wet heat. 

The feeling was… other-worldly. 

Your sexual partners of the past had gone down on you, sure. You’d even been in this exact position once, but it was nothing compared to Bucky. 

No one worked you over with the same acute knowledge of what you liked, before you even knew it yourself. 

His nose nudged against your clit, providing the perfect pressure whilst he spearheaded his tongue deep within you. Every time he did, he pulled you lower, shaking his head from side to side so that his stubble scratched your sensitive inner thighs and your swollen folds.  

Words were beyond you, and all you could do was make incoherent moans and keens, sure the people in the rooms surrounding yours could hear your screams, but you didn’t care. 

Especially when Bucky dragged his teeth over your clit, ever so lightly biting it and causing you to hurtle into the outer atmosphere and forget everything.  

You collapsed, losing the tension in your legs and only Bucky’s hands shooting up to your ribs stopped you from smashing your forehead on the wall. 

Light exploded across your vision, your blood roaring in your ears and you couldn’t move, your body was completely boneless. You were truly spent, muscles twitching with aftershocks and you only just noticed Bucky coaxing you to lay down next to him. 

You faded in and out of a warm haze, registering a warm cloth gliding between your legs, over your flushed skin. 

“Go on a date with me.” 

The soft words underlined with that oh-so familiar rasp brought you rushing back to the present. “You... what?” 

“Go on a date with me.”

You snapped your eyes open, only to be met with the Arctic ocean, almost glowing from within with sated desire. 

Curling your lips up into a smile, you gently dragged Bucky’s head down to yours, pressing your lips to his equally swollen ones, “Okay.” 

[natrogersfics]

Beyond a Favor - Chapter 10: What Does Your Gut Say?

Cover art by @teamromanoff

4 times Natasha (and the rest of the gang) tried to convince Steve to forgive Bucky for falling in love with his sister + 1 time someone actually succeeded

Well, it only took me nearly 3 years to fill this request, but here we finally have the follow-up to this chapter. Happy reading, everyone!

Read on AO3

“You see how his knuckles are hovering over the ball and his fingernails are practically digging into the leather?” Steve explains, pointing towards the television. “That’s how you can tell the pitcher is about to throw a knuckleball. Now-”

“Steve.”

Natasha’s voice brings his words to a halt, and he glances over to where she’s seated next to him on their couch. “Yes, Nat?”

With a sigh, Natasha pushes off of the cushions and maneuvers herself onto his lap, planting a knee on either side of him. “You know I love you, right?”

“I may have had an inkling,” he quips, clasping his hands at the small of her back and making her squeal when he pulls her closer for a kiss.

“Steve,” she breathes out, but it quickly turns into a gasp when he begins to trail kisses down her neck. “Steve.” She uses both her hands to gently push him away and chuckles at the childish frown he sends her in return. “Not that I don’t enjoy spending my Saturday afternoon doing this” – she gestures between them before pointing a thumb over her shoulder – “while a bunch of dudes on TV try to hit a ball with a stick.” He pokes her side, eliciting a cackle from her. “Stop.” She reaches to cup his face between her hands before sighing. “You know I appreciate you taking the time to explain every facet of the game to me, but… isn’t there someone else you’d rather be watching this with?” She shrugs. “Someone across the bridge, perhaps?”

He tilts his head back, groaning. “Natasha, I’m not rehashing this.”

“Steve, it’s been a while-”

“A while since I saw my best friend messing around with my sister,” he says bitterly. “Yes, Nat. I’m well aware.”

“Hey, look at me.” It takes a second, but eventually, he meets her gaze. “I love you,” she says, smiling softly. “I love you so very much. And it’s because I love you that I say this from the bottom of my heart. Get over it.”

“Get over it?” he manages to eke out. “You want me to get over catching my best friend with my sister?” When she only nods, his eyes grow wide. “My sister and my best friend, Nat!”

She rolls her eyes, moving to plop back down next to him on the couch. “You can change the order of those words all you want, Steve. It’s not going to change the facts.”

“Let me get this straight,” he says, rising from his seat and turning to face her. “I walk in on my best friend and my sister, and somehow, I’m the crazy one? Because I think I’ve been pretty freaking reasonable about all of this. I could kill Bucky.” He puts his hands out before him. “No, scratch that, I should kill Bucky. I mean, who does he even-”

“Oh, my God,” Natasha moans, prompting him to pause as she, too, rises to her feet. “Your sister isn’t just some notch on Bucky’s bedpost, okay?”

His brows furrow. “What?”

“They’ve been seeing each other for months,” she says.

“Months?” he asks, his disbelief causing his pitch to rise higher than he’d intended. He clears his throat. “And you knew about this?”

“Not directly,” Natasha says, sighing when he petulantly crosses his arms over his chest. “When we got back from the Governor’s Ball, Izzie mentioned-”

“Izzie knew too?” he interjects, muttering an apology when she glares at him for interrupting her.

“As I was saying,” she goes on. “Izzie mentioned something about seeing Wanda using her mouth to get something off of Bucky’s face when they were babysitting together.” She shrugs. “That made zero sense to me, so the next time we all had brunch at your mom’s and I saw a hickey on Bucky, I kind of just… put two and two together.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, rolling his eyes when Natasha’s only response is to raise a brow at him. “How could you have kept this from me, Nat? For crying out loud, she’s my sister!”

“I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t my news to share,” Natasha says. “As for Wanda, your sister is a grown woman, Steve. She’s perfectly capable of making her own decisions.”

“She doesn’t know Bucky,” he counters. “Not like I do.”

Natasha shakes her head. “You know, you always say how proud you are of the person Wanda’s become,” she says. “And yet, the first choice she makes that you don’t approve of and here you are acting like she’s some silly little girl who can’t decide what she wants.” She sighs. “Look, I understand why you’re upset, I do. And yeah, you may know Bucky better than anyone, and yeah, commitment has never really been his thing.” His lips part as if to respond, but she holds a finger up to silence him before continuing, “And that was all well and good when he was just your best friend sharing stories about his dating life while you two are shooting the breeze. But before you make me an accessory to murder, ask yourself. Would Bucky really risk years of his friendship with you if he weren’t serious about Wanda?”      

“It’s just…” he tries after a beat, before ultimately sighing in frustration. “You’re making good points and I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to,” she says, patting his shoulder. “But if it helps at all, I am done watching baseball. And unless you want your daughter to sleep over at someone else’s every night during the season, I suggest you either make new friends or find that forgiveness sooner rather than later.”

“Don’t hold your breath on the latter,” he mumbles as she begins to make her way out of their living room. “Wait. Izzie said she was staying at Maria’s because they were having movie night!”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Natasha yells back over her shoulder.

“Oh, that’s wonderful!”

“Wonderful?” Steve asks, his brows furrowing even further when his mother just beams in response before reverting her attention back to the dough she’s kneading. He shifts his weight on his feet, placing his hands on his hips. It’s one thing for his friends to tell him he’s being unreasonable. He may not even agree with Natasha keeping the news from him, but there’s a part of him – miniscule as that part may be right now – that understands why his wife chose to withhold her discovery with him. But this is his mother, and if there’s one person who should be on his side, surely it’s her. “Ma, did you even hear what I just said?”

“Yes, darling,” Sarah says. “And like I just said, I think it’s wonderful news.”

His mother has gone insane. That’s the only logical explanation he can conjure for why she’s reacting this way. “Ma,” he says, walking over to Sarah’s workstation and leaning his hip on the ledge so he can see her face. “We- actually, you know what, let me rephrase this. Izzie caught Bucky on top of Wanda. Naked.”

Without looking away from her work, Sarah rolls her eyes. “Steven, please,” his mother says, sprinkling cinnamon sugar across the now perfectly rolled out and buttered dough before her. “Just a few weeks ago, Izzie told me that when she walked into your room, you practically leaped off the bed like a kangaroo.” This time, Sarah turns to him, her brow arched. “Now, I know I’m an old lady and a lot’s changed since I was younger, but I’m pretty sure two people don’t have to be buck naked to be, and to quote my granddaughter, tickling each other.”

“We weren’t-” he begins, only to sigh when Sarah tilts her chin up in challenge. “Can we please stay on topic here?”

“Son, I’m not even sure what the topic here really is,” Sarah admits with a shrug. “From what I gather, your sister seems happy, and as for James… well, he’s practically a second son to me-”

“But that’s exactly my point,” he interrupts. “We grew up together. Hell, he watched Wanda grow up! And now they’re…” His expression sours as he tries to find the end of his sentence, and instead, he throws his hands up in the air. “I can’t be the only one who thinks this is weird!”

“It might take some getting used to, sure,” Sarah concedes. “But quite frankly, I’ve seen your sister date a few… interesting people over the years. You remember the last one, don’t you? The British fellow who wore a lot of burgundy?”

“He was not bad,” he offers, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No, he wasn’t,” Sarah agrees. “But I always felt like we were talking to a walking Shakespeare novel instead of an actual person.” He only shrugs at her comment, prompting her to sigh. “My darling,” Sarah says, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. “You have always looked after your sister. I know that and she knows that. But whatever it is that’s truly bothering you, I suggest you figure it out because we both know that your sister can do a lot worse than” – Sarah lowers her hand to pat the shoulder he had dislocated once upon a time – “a man who does not think twice before pushing people out of harm’s way.”

He holds Sarah’s gaze for a moment, pondering her words before finally shaking his head. “I can’t do it,” he says with a shake of his head. “I can’t! It’s too weird!”

“So I just add a couple of tablespoons of water when the soil is dry?” Steve asks, running a finger through the soil of the potted Bonsai before him.

“Not if you want it to live,” Thor says, clearly alarmed. “Did you not listen to a word I said?”

“I did!” Steve insists. “Which is why I asked. You said never water it when the soil is still wet.”

“I also said never let the soil go dry,” Thor retorts. “Steve, need I remind you how precious these little trees are? You can’t just willy-nilly water them whenever you want. You need to consider its species, its size, the size of the pot. Oh, and the mixture of the soil…”

As Thor rambles on yet again about the basics of Bonsai watering, he brings a hand up to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’s not entirely certain how he ended up here on a Sunday afternoon – okay, maybe that’s not entirely the truth. He could have gone down to Brooklyn with Natasha and Isabel for their weekly family brunch at his mother’s. But despite both his wife’s and his mother’s insistence, he’s not quite ready to patch things up with Bucky just yet, and Thor’s invitation to split a six-pack in his newly renovated rooftop garden seemed like a great way to avoid doing just that. Well, at least in theory, it did.

“Steve, are you even listening to me?”

“Of course,” he says with as much conviction as he can muster as he sits up straighter in his chair. “You were saying about the, um…”

“Organic fertilizer,” Thor says, shaking his head at the sheepish smile he sends his way. “Steve, what is wrong?” Thor walks around the table, occupying the seat across him. “I invited you here so you could be one with the plants.” He gently taps the branch of the Bonsai before him. “I even let you practice trimming on Groot, and he’s my favorite.”

“I’m sorry, Thor,” he says, sighing as he gestures towards the pot before him. “This-”

“Groot.”

“Groot,” he corrects himself, “is lovely-”

“Then what’s the matter?” Thor interjects.

“Do you remember that weekend Tony and Pepper invited us all to their beach house?”

Thor smiles. “Oh yes,” he says, “we were all having a barbecue when- oh.” He chuckles quietly. “I take it you and Bucky are still at odds then?”

“How could we not be?” he asks. “It’s weird! I mean, Bucky? And Wanda?”

Thor nods along silently, as if weighing his words. “You know, as Izzie’s Second Favorite Uncle, I’m practically obliged to fight alongside you anytime. Your fights are my fights,” he points out, putting a hand over his heart. “That being said…” He tilts his head to the side before asking, “Is it though? Is it really that weird?”

“Yes!” he exclaims, scooting forward in his seat. “Wanda isn’t just some random person, Thor. She’s my sister. Clearly, Bucky is overstepping here!”

“Yes, but Steve, here’s the thing about love…” Thor begins before letting out what he can only describe as a sigh of delight. “Love can be complicated, as I’m sure you know. Not everyone is lucky to find it, so when two people do, it’s a beautiful thing! It feels so… natural. Like a plant growing towards the sunlight.” Thor shrugs. “Don’t you remember what it was like when you and Natasha finally became a couple?”

“Of course I do,” he says.

“So who cares if Bucky’s your best friend and Wanda’s your sister?” Thor says. “Don’t you want them to experience that feeling as well?”

“It’s not- That’s not-” He shakes his head. “First of all, why do you assume they’re in love?”

“Why do you assume they aren’t?” Thor challenges. “Did you ask?”

He waves away Thor’s question. “Thor, how would you feel if you found out your best friend was dating your sister?”

“If Heimdall wanted to date my sister, I’d say more power to him. And believe me, he’ll need it,” Thor says, his expression twisting with disgust as adds under his breath, “Rotten, rotten person that she is.”

“I’m sure she’s not that bad,” he offers quietly.

“She tried to poke my eye out once, Steve!” Thor says, prompting him to raise his hands up in defense. “Sorry, sometimes Hela makes me lose my Zen.” Thor takes a deep breath before exhaling. “Anyway, I think it’s great that Bucky and Wanda have found love. We should be celebrating it!” Thor’s eyes suddenly light up. “Do you think they’ll want a Bonsai? I have the perfect one!”

He shakes his head as Thor rises from his seat and makes his way over to one of his plants. “Your fights are my fights, my ass.”

“Daddy?”

Steve looks up from the stack of papers before him, chuckling when he sees the line of chocolate ice cream smudged atop his daughter’s upper lip. He leans across the picnic table they’ve settled in, dragging a thumb over the trail. “What’s up, fig?”

Isabel brings another spoonful of ice cream to her mouth. “Can we go to the zoo now?”

“Five more minutes, okay?” he all but bargains. He knew that Natasha would not approve of giving their daughter ice cream this late in the day, but he had hoped that the frozen treat would buy him at least ten more minutes of peace. Evidently, he had underestimated the amount of paperwork that needed his attention. He sighs. “Daddy just needs to sign a few more of these for the gallery.”

“I thought uncle Bucky was going to take me to the zoo today,” Isabel laments.

“I know, honey,” he admits. “But I’m almost done, and truthfully, I’m a little upset with your uncle Bucky right now.”

“Is it because you saw him kissing aunt Wanda?” Isabel asks, point blank.

“Uh… yes and no,” he says. He sometimes forgets how perceptive Isabel can be at such a young age, though he supposes he should not have expected anything less from someone with half of Natasha’s genes. “It’s… complicated, Iz. You see, your uncle Bucky is like a brother to me.”

“So uncle Bucky is like family?” Isabel offers.

“Yeah, exactly,” he says, watching a V form between Isabel’s brows as she ponders his answer. “And there are some things you just can’t do when someone is practically your family.”

Isabel is silent for a moment, taking in his words. “But you and momma are my family, right?”

“Yes, we are,” he says. “Why would you ask that?”

“Well, I see you kiss my momma all the time and I don’t get mad,” Isabel points out. “So why are you mad at uncle Bucky for kissing aunt Wanda?”

“Well…” His lips part to answer, but as he watches Isabel look over at him, patiently waiting for his response, he finds that he can’t quite find the rest of his sentence. He shakes his head, sighing. “You know what? Daddy can finish these later. Let’s go to the zoo.”

“Yay!” Isabel exclaims, all but forgetting her question.

The sun sits low on the horizon from where he stands on the porch, overlooking the vast greenery of the farm before him. It’s not often that they get to come up to Nick’s ranch upstate, but when they do, it’s always a welcome reprieve from their busy life in the city.

“The quiet’s not so bad, isn’t it?”

He turns to look over his shoulder just as Nick steps onto the porch. “Thanks,” he says when Nick hands him a beer, the both of them clinking their bottles together as the man comes to stand next to him. “And no, not bad at all.”

“You know, the lot next door is on the market,” Nick says. “I know the agent who owns the listing. I could get you the number if you and Natasha are interested.”

“Even if I were, this quiet would drive Natasha up a wall in two days tops,” he says, eliciting a smirk from Nick. “Plus, Westchester’s a little too far from Pepper’s house.”

“Those two have always been tied at the hip,” Nick says fondly, to which he nods in agreement before taking a swig of his beer. Silence falls over them for a brief moment, the sky fading from a bright orange to a dark blue, before Nick clears his throat. “Speaking of people who are tied at the hip… A little birdy told me you and Barnes haven’t spoken since that weekend at Tony’s beach house.”

“Let me guess, does this little birdy happen to be this tall” – he brings his hands up just short of his shoulder – “and have red hair?”

“You’re spot on about the red hair,” Nick says, “but this particular bird was a lot shorter and very upset about not getting to feed the penguins because she got to the zoo late.” Nick chuckles at the sheepish expression that makes its way across his face. “You want to talk about it?”

“No…” he says, “Oh, I don’t know.” He rolls his lips, contemplating his next words, before sighing. “Everyone keeps telling me that I’m overreacting. But for the life of me, I just can’t seem to get everything to make sense in my head.” He shrugs. “And it’s not that I don’t want my sister to be happy or that I believe Bucky’s a bad guy, but…”

“He’s your best friend and you know everything about him,” Nick supplies before smirking. “Hey, I get it. Melinda has been my best friend for decades. I’m talking long before she became Natasha’s mom. I don’t have a secret, good or bad, that she does not know about. If she ever caught me with any of the Mays, I have no doubt in my mind that she’d try to shoot me.” They both chuckle at that, knowing full well that it’s the truth. “You said you couldn’t seem to get the idea of Bucky and your sister straight in your head, but what does your gut say?”

“What?” he asks, blinking once and then twice as he steals a look at Nick, who shrugs.

“You know I wanted to shoot you the first time I met you, right?” Nick says, causing his eyebrows to raise in surprise. “Natasha is the closest thing I have to a daughter. She is my daughter. And as I’m sure you understand, no father will think it’s ideal that the first time they meet their daughter’s new boyfriend is after he’s already gotten her pregnant.”

“That’s… that’s a fair assessment,” he concedes quietly.

“But I trust my Nat,” Nick says, his expression filling with pride. “I trust that she knows what’s best for her. And when I saw how happy she was with you… well.” He nods towards him. “While I was still trying to get my head around everything, my gut told me everything I would eventually come to know.” He brings a hand up, tapping a finger to his temple. “This up here takes time,” he says. “Sometimes too much time.” He points to his stomach. “But this? This knows” – he puts one hand out in front of him, snapping his fingers – “like that.”

“Steve, what are you doing here?”

It takes a day from when they arrive back from Nick’s ranch before he’s able to muster the courage to make it here, and from where he stands at Wanda’s doorstep, he offers his sister a little smile. “Hey, Wanda. Do you mind if I come in?”

Wanda’s teeth sink into her lower lip. “Actually, Steve, now’s-”

“Who’s at the door, babe?” Bucky’s question interrupts Wanda, and the man freezes when he comes to see him standing at the front door. “Steve. Hey, man. Sorry, I didn’t- I’ll get-”

“No, that’s fine,” he says. “I was actually hoping to talk to both of you.”

Bucky and Wanda share a look. “Oh, okay…” Wanda says, surprise evident in tone. “Come in, then.”

“Look, Steve,” Bucky begins the second the three of them enter Wanda’s kitchen.

“Actually, I’d really appreciate it if I could talk first, if that’s okay,” he says, prompting Bucky to gesture towards him, as if to give him the floor. He sighs, his eyes going from Wanda to Bucky. “I owe you both an apology for the way I’ve been acting since I found out about your relationship.”

“No, we’re sorry,” Wanda says. “We shouldn’t have been sneaking around behind your back.”

“I appreciate you saying that,” he says. “But you’ve always made your own decisions and you’ve never been wrong, and if I made you feel otherwise, I’m sorry. I’m so profoundly sorry that I ever doubted you, Wanda.”

“It’s okay,” Wanda says, a smile breaking out on her face despite the tears welling in her eyes. “I was beginning to worry that my brother was too perfect anyways.” He scoffs at that, and as she walks towards him, he pulls her into his embrace.

“You’re happy?” he asks.

“More than I could ever imagine,” she whispers back, tightening her arms around him.

“I’m so glad,” he says, dusting a kiss to her temple. “Missed you, kid.”

“Missed you too, big brother,” Wanda says, her voice breaking ever so slightly.

“Steve, you have to know that we never intended for you to find out the way you did,” Bucky says a beat after they pull away.

“I know you didn’t,” Steve acknowledges. “I know I said a lot of hurtful things that day, Buck, and I hope you know that I didn’t mean any of them. My stubborn head just got way ahead of what I knew-” He pauses, shaking his head to correct himself. “What I’ve always known, and that’s that as far as people go, you’re as good as they come. Do you think you could forgive me?”

“Already done, pal,” Bucky says, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards ever so slightly. “But I want to make it clear, Wanda isn’t just another woman to me. I’m in love with her, Steve, and by some goddamn miracle, she loves me, too.” Bucky shakes his head. “On my life, I would never hurt her. Not intentionally.”

“I know that, too,” he says. “But that does not change the fact she’s still my sister. And while you’re my best friend, I don’t care whose fault it is-”

“You’ll bury me where no one can find me,” Bucky finishes for him, smiling. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“I’ll let him do it, too,” Wanda adds, crossing the room to stand next to Bucky.

Bucky snorts, wrapping an arm around Wanda. “I don’t doubt that,” he says. “Hell, I’ll help him dig.”

“Case closed then,” Steve says.

“On that note…” Bucky says, a smile slowly spreading across his lips. “There’s still two innings in the Dodgers versus Yankees game.”

“Oh, my God,” Wanda interjects with a roll of her eyes.

Steve chuckles. “Lead the way.”

[2-cute-4-school]

𝓠𝓾𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓲𝓽𝓬𝓱 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓬𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓮

Group : NCT

Pairing : Griffyndor! Mark Lee x gn! Reader 

Genre : hp au, rivals to lovers, light angst to absolute fluff

Word count : 4.4K words   |    M.list

Warnings : injury, swearing

Summary :  ‘He had nightmares of you slipping right past his fingers and him failing to catch you. He relives that moment.’

a/n: thank you for 1000 followers you absolute cuties!! sending lots of smooches and snuggles your way!!

“Aren’t you going to ask how the coolest champion is feeling about tomorrow’s match?”

You watched Donghyuck, your fellow housemate and best friend since you first stepped onto the Hogwarts train, expectantly. He spared you a quick glance as he plopped down beside you on the couch in your shared common room, too busy to munch on his chocolate frog to give you any further attention. 

“I’ve already asked Mark.”

You would like to be able to say you were surprised at his answer, but his teasing character has become an usual by now

It still baffled you how you managed to even tolerate each other, much less get to share a bond as deep as the one you developed along the years. You two had next to nothing in common other than your cunning wit. While Donghyuck delved deep into his love for astronomy, which you despised with a burning fervor, you dedicated your time to Quidditch entirely. 

You loved the sport dearly, it offered you that adrenaline rush you were born to chase, that quickened heartbeat as you rushed to catch the Golden Snitch. You spent every spare moment you could find in your hectic schedule on the pitch with the wind threading through strands of your hair and your hands clenched so tightly onto your broomstick your knuckles turn white. And you adored every second of that. But what you definitely didn’t adore was Mark Lee.

“And worst best friend award goes to surprise surprise Lee Donghyuck!”

He shrugged unimpressed by your weak attack and focuses back on his damned frog.

Mark Lee. Unfortunately for your sanity, you had to see him almost as often as you decided to practice on your own. If there was one thing you shared with him and you respected him for was his own commitment to Quidditch. More often that not, you’d have to share the pitch with him in your spare time, taunting each other for the entire period of time you spent practicing. He was the beloved Seeker of Gryffindor, their pride and joy and your rival ever since you were both accepted in your respective teams.

“So what’s your score against him?”

“It’s a draw.”

Yes, you were that petty. You and Mark kept the score on how many times you defeated each other in matches. It didn’t actually matter which team actually won, the only thing that mattered for your childish competition was who managed to catch the Golden Snitch.

“That’s why you’re so tense?”

“Bingo, smartpants.”

“What even is the big deal about your little game? It’s not like either of you actually gets something out of this.”

“I gain the right to stick my win in his face and vice versa.”

Teasing between you and Mark often stretched your patience to its maximum and ended up in one of you snapping like a chord under pressure. Donghyuck shivered as he remembered the final match of your fourth year when your house lost against Gryffindor due to Mark catching the Snitch before you. He could vividly remember the blood rushing through his veins in fear at the sight of you battling Mark shoulder to shoulder at a dangerous speed, arm stretched out so far he believed you’d topple over at any moment.

He doesn’t want a repeat of the miserable image of you he saw at the time, a defeated you, slumped on the bench in your changing room, head lowered in ultimate shame and disappointment as bitter tears rolled off your face, splashing against the floor as Donghyuck watched worriedly through the half opened door. Mark had really done a number on you that day.

“You have to win, Y/N.”

“Why the sudden change of heart, wasn’t our competition meaningless for your highness?”

“I don’t give a frog’s toe about your competition, but I want to spend time time with you this summer. And not just to watch you practice until you drop.”

You scoffed. You knew that he was referring to the summer after your horrifying defeat against Mark. Donghyuck could barely get a hold of you since you spent all day on your broom, tiring yourself out to your limit.

“Don’t worry, I don’t plan on losing.”

~

“Already wetting your pants, Y/L/N?”

You didn’t have to turn around to put a face to the taunting voice behind you.

“I don’t know, Lee, should I? You must know since you have more experience than me.”

Mark’s face scrunched up at the reminder of his first year when he lost control of his broom and he quite literally saw his life flash before his eyes. Not very Gryffindor from his part.

“Whatever, we both know how this is about to end. Save your cheap defense until after this final. My team will win this year’s tournament and I’ll beat you individually too.”

The reminder of the stakes of this match weren’t soothing your nerves at all, especially mere hours before you were facing Mark on the pitch. You curled your fists and kept a straight face, not daring to show him any weakness from your side.

“Shove that pointless confidence up your ass until you prove you’re worthy of it, Lee.”

“Oh so fourth year isn’t enough proof?”

The corner of your lips twitched and your eyes narrowed. zeroing on his tense featured in a chilling glare.

“You said matches don’t count, didn’t you? You were the one insisting that you didn’t consider anything a victory other than catching the Snitch before me. And in that aspect, last I verified, we’re equals.”

His lips moved soundlessly, trying to come up with a retort, but you didn’t spare him enough time to come up with anything, turning on your heels and marching away to meet Donghyuck.

“You’ll see, Y/L/N, you’ll never be my equal.”

His voice followed you tauntingly through the busy corridors, your rushed footsteps taking you anywhere but close to the only person who could make your blood boil.

~

It took three pep talks and four ‘friendly’ attacks of your personal space from Donghyuck to make you gather your spirits and stop the tremors shaking up your entire body. He walked you to the changing room’s door, patting you roughly on the back one last time

“Give your best, I’ll be watching from the stands. I trust that you won’t let me get bored. Also, remember that if you lose you’re sleeping on the mat in front of the entrance in our common room.”

And with that he skipped away, hurried to find a good spot in the stands that were already starting to fill up with students. You sigh, used to his weird way of encouraging you and stepped inside the room, greeting Jungwoo, your captain and your fellow teammates, starting to change into your Quidditch uniform.

As soon as you set foot on the familiar pitch, your eyes met Mark’s who stood straight and proud side by side with his own captain sporting his Gryffindor red cape and holding his broom, the newest Nimbus model.

You Keeper was talking your ear off about the ‘amazingly efficient’ polish he found, but you couldn’t seem to rip your gaze away from Mark who in turn seemed to burn through you with his gaze. He threw you a smirk as if provoking you to lose your cool. But you decided you wouldn’t allow him the satisfaction.

The stands were already roaring to life. Any match between you and Mark was very sought after by everyone in your school due to the intensity it held each time. Despite the already loudness surrounding the pitch, one high pitched screech couldn’t help but catch your attention.

“KICK SOME ASS, Y/N! Or the mat is waiting for you!”

Count on Donghyuck to be the embarrassing mom rooting for you at her child’s every sport event. You shoot him a warning look to which he only responded with an over dramatic wink and an even louder ’whoop’. You could only sigh, appreciating his support despite your lack of reaction to it.

“I’ll kick your ass, Lee Donghyuck.”

You muttered, trying to stop the smile forming on your lips. A snort came from the side, making your head snap in its direction.

“Try your best, Y/LN, too bad you’ll still disappoint lover boy over there.”

“Jealous, Lee?”

“You wish.”

Madam Hooch interrupted your banter with a shrill whistle, stepping in between the two teams while holding the Quaffle.

“Alright, boys and girls, mount your brooms.”

Within seconds all players were high in the air, adrenaline pumping through your veins, your heated gaze locked with Mark’s. It became kind of a tradition between the two of you, intense stare downs before the official start of the game. Madam Hooch’s voice which carried the same words every time sounded far away as she bent down, ready to throw the Quaffle.

“Alright, I want a clean and fair game, hear me? Good luck and may the best win.”

The long deafening whistle signified the start of the match and Chasers whizzed past you, speeding towards the Quaffle. You and Mark broke eye contact, each of you getting immersed in the game, your sole focus being on catching sight of the Golden Snitch.

The weather worsened as the game progressed, the unpredictable May weather acting up. The clouds darkened, completely shutting out any ray of sunshine trying to sneak past them, a thickening fog suffocating the school grounds. Slowly but surely, what started as a few scattered rain drops soon turned into a full blown storm, a cold shower falling atop of you, the harsh wind whipping your capes back and forth. The stands were barely visible, the cheers from below inaudible over the wind and the players’ yells.

If it wasn’t hard enough already to spot the small, golden ball, now it seemed close to impossible. You could make out Mark’s silhouette flying around, but you didn’t linger any longer on him, focused on catching sight of the Snitch. Bludgers were flying everywhere, the Beaters’ efficiency decreasing because of the lack of visibility, another worry to add to the list.

Gryffindor was in the lead with 20 points, the score remaining tight as the match dragged on and on. You had already been playing for a while, your uniforms were already soaked and your skin paling from the biting cold of the unforgiving rain, but the conditions only spurred you further. You had to catch the Snitch.

Just as your patience was running thin, you caught sight of a fast-moving golden spot, hovering on the sidelines. Without a second thought, you sped towards it, your surroundings blurring as your eyes focused solely on the already moving Snitch. Mark noticed your forceful actions immediately, whizzing past the others players and nearing you.

“And Y/L/N seems to have finally spotted the Golden Snitch! Both Seekers are bolting after it, I can barely keep track of them!”

The crowd exploded, cheering louder than ever, but you couldn’t hear anything, pushing yourself to the limit as Mark caught up to you and you battled side by side once again. The Snitch seemed to be angrier than ever, jerking furiously at every corner, but you didn’t let yourself be caught by surprise, keeping up with it.

Until it started speeding in a straight line, stopping its irregular twists and turns and you knew that was your chance. You flew at top speed, stretching your hand in front of you so much that your muscles almost protested and Mark followed suit. You were shoulder to shoulder with him, subtly knocking into each other in an attempt to make the other lose their balance.

“Move! It’s mine!”

His hoarse voice yelled right by your year, only making you grit your teeth harder.

“Fuck off, Lee!”

Your fingertips were a breath away from the Snitch, Mark’s arm pressing into yours, the cold wind biting at your cheeks. Desperately, you shifted your weight from your bottom to the hand clutching your broomstick, leaning forward on your arm and before Mark could react, you lurched forward slightly, encasing the running object in the palm of your hand, clutching it so tightly it left marks into the skin, but you didn’t care. 

You did it. You caught the Golden Snitch.

“Y/N!”

Before you could regain your stance, a Bludger knocked into your broom forcefully. With your already unsteady grip on the broomstick, you toppled over in an instant, the broom slipping from under you, but you didn’t dare unclench the fingers trapping the Snitch in your hand.

Mark’s desperate yell seemed to be the only sound echoing in your ears as you plummeted. The last thing you saw before you knocked loudly into the ground with a sickening crack were Mark’s distressed features, a hand stretched to its full extent in front of him as he rushed to get a hold of you, your own outstretched fingers slipping right past his.

~

Surprisingly, as soon as you managed to crack your eyes open you weren’t hit with a blinding light. It still seemed to take a great effort to keep them open for longer than a second, your hand twitching in an attempt to bring it to cover your sensitive eyes, but being stopped by a weight forcing it down. 

“Y/N?”

You groaned, scrunching up your face as soreness hit your body full force at your attempt to move.

“Merlin, Y/N, can you open your eyes?”

You could recognize Donghyuck’s voice anywhere, but the almost desperate tone he used was quite foreign to you.

“Come on, babe, open your eyes. Madam Pomfrey! ”

You realized the weight on your hand were actually his fingers which now squeezed yours encouragingly as his other hand came up to smooth strands of your hair away from your face. You clenched your teeth, forcing an eye open.

“Stop fucking yelling, punk.”

At your annoyed retort, he let out a relieved sigh, wrapping his arms gently around you while trying not to jostle you too much.

“Thank Merlin, you’re back.”

After Madam Pomfrey checked on you and updated you on your injuries which were a bit more serious than you expected, she left you with Donghyuck once again. He leaned back in his chair, a lot more relaxed than in the past days he’s had to spend by your bedside. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“The match. We won the match right?”

Donghyuck snorted as your first question was about Quidditch instead of your own health, but it didn’t even surprise him anymore.

“Yes, you crazy hag, you won.”

“Yes! We did it! We won!”

You’ve never felt more relieved in your entire life. You finally proved to yourself that all the time and work you’ve put into Quidditch wasn’t for nothing. And if this was the elevation you’d feel after winning cups, you were ready to spend the rest of your youth chasing the Snitch.

“You should eat some chocolate, gain your energy back.”

Now that he mentioned it, you finally focused on your nightstand that overflowed with sweets. You grabbed the closest one, a chocolate frog, not hesitating to stuff it all in your mouth and collect the card inside. Another Nicolas Flamel, you already had two of those. 

“Those are a lot.”

“Tell me about it. Don’t worry, I’ll help you finish them.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“Hyuck, tell me, did Jungwoo cry?”

“Should’ve seen him, like a baby. I’m pretty sure he filled half of that cup with snot-”

“Ewww, I didn’t need all the gross details. Ah, I’m sorry for missing that. And Lee’s face, I bet I’d sleep like a baby for the next 10 years if I had the chance to see that.“

Donghyuck’s lips were suddenly pulled into a smirk, eyes glinting with a dangerous mischief.

“You should see one of your beaters, damn nice nose Mark delivered.”

Your munching slowed down, gulping down the sweetness loudly.

“What do you mean? Did that petty git start a fight?”

“Wouldn’t say it was out of pettiness actually.”

Mark was the first to land beside your crumpled figure, dismounting his broom faster than ever and crouching hurriedly before you. His hand ghosted over your cold cheek, too scared to touch you in case he did more harm than good. His shaking pupils fixated on you, running a hundred miles per hour over your face, hoping, praying that you’d open your eyes and celebrate in his face.

“Hey, wake up, don’t play games on the pitch, you already won! Y/L/N!”

Mark knew deep inside that you had no games left to play after a fall like that, but it was his first time seeing you so small, so hurt, so defeated despite the shining Golden Snitch still clutched loosely in your limp hand. It scared him.

“Bloody hell, wake up! Madam Hooch! Help! Anyone, help!”

His head snapped around trying to catch sight of anyone coming to your aid, eyes scanning through the fog crazily. The rain seemed to fall faster and faster, the chill settling deep into your bones. Exhausted, Mark lowered his head in defeat, his forehead gently leaning on yours, his nose nudging against yours. One of his hands still touched your cheek, lightly caressing it, thumb running over the apple of your cheek as his other hand curled into a fist against the ground.

Jungwoo landed next, almost tripping over his broom as he rushed over to you and knelt next to you, opting to ignore the position Mark was in and focus on your well being. Mark’s head didn’t even turn as he spoke lowly.

“Do something for Merlin’s sake. Get Madam Hooch, or Pomfrey! Anyone dammit, just to something!”

Mark raised himself at the lack of response from Jungwoo who seemed rotten to his spot, freezing at the sight of you.

“Are you deaf?! Fucking help!”

That seemed to snap Jungwoo out of his frozen state as he jumped to his feet, sprinting towards the stand where teachers usually stayed during matches. One by one, your teams landed and gathered near you as Mark’s yells of help guided them to you.

“Merlin, that doesn’t look good.”

Mark’s burning gaze settled on your beater who stood a few meters away, leaning on his broom.

“It would have looked better if you did your part right.”

The beater rolled his eyes at Mark’s harsh remark.

“Relax, man, I just wasn’t playing attention for a moment.”

“And you think that’s a proper excuse?!”

Mark was fired up by now, lifting himself to his feet as one of your Chasers, a year younger than you crouched by your side, gripping your hand. He sauntered over, coming face to face with the beater who didn’t seem that interested.

“I’m just saying it’s not my fault their own incompetence landed themselves in the hospital wing, I’m not pulling anyone’s wight al-”

He didn’t get to finish his mocking words as Mark’s fist met his nose with a loud crunch, Mark’s powerful swing sending him to the ground as blood started dripping from his nose steadily.

“Don’t you ever talk about Y/N like that. Not ever again. If I hear one bad word about them coming out of your worthless mouth, I’ll hex you into next year. You’ll never be half of the player Y/N already is, remember your place, asshole.”

Madam Hooch was already tending to you by the time Mark turned back to you, deeming it safe enough for you to be moved to the hospital wing. Donghyuck, who sprinted out of the stand as soon as he heard your name coming out of Jungwoo’s mouth, held your head in his lap, smoothed down your hair, pushing away wet strands that covered your eyes.

Mark strode over to you, taking off his cap and laying it over your body as he slotted an arm under your legs, his other coming around your back. He lifted your body, cradling you against his chest as Donghyuck also stood up to fix your position in Mark’s arms into a more comfortable one.

“Off to the hospital wing,now. Quick, quick, quick!”

Mark didn’t waste another moment before he hurried inside the castle with you in his hold and Donghyuck quick on his heels.

“Mark Lee stood up for me? The same Mark Lee who hates my guts since we first got in our Quidditch teams?”

“Do you know another Mark Lee? Maybe he didn’t hate you that much after all, or…not at all. After all, all these chocolate frogs are from him, said something about seeing you exchange some cards with his Griffyndor friend in class or something.”

“He visited?”

“We wouldn’t be able to get rid of him sometimes. He opened up to me once when we met outside the door trying to sneak in one night.”

“Why were you even sneaking in?”

“I was bored, okay? I had no one to tire me out during the day.”

“Hey!”

“Anyway, he said he had nightmares of you slipping right past his fingers and him failing to catch you. He relives that moment.”

“Did it really affect him that much? Accidents happen all the time.”

“Not to you, Y/N.”

“Maybe, but I’m just another player from the opposite team., right? …Do you think he…?”

Donghyuck brought a hand up to his head, massaging his temples as he sighed with annoyance.

“You’re too dense.”

“How could I have known? ”

“Look, just talk to him as soon as you can. That boy needs to finally sleep properly, even my grandma’s bag has a lighter color than his eye bags.”

You just nodded, a bit skeptic.

You were discharged on that same day. Jungwoo almost cried again when you met in the common room, hugging you tightly, praising and scolding you at the same time with a brotherly smile.

You first saw Mark Lee in the halfway, after your Potions class. He was sitting on the ledge of a large window, staring seemingly into space. Donghyuck’s words echo in your mind as you decide to approach him and hop onto the space beside him, settling comfortable against the window behind you.

“Woah, Lee, Donghyuck was right, you could really use some concealer.”

Mark jostled as if he only noticed you now. His wide doe eyes racked over your smiling face and he seemed to panic internally.

“Whe-When did you get here? Why are you out of bed?”

“Because I was discharged?”

“What? Since when?”

“Earlier today.”

“Oh…”

He cleared his throat awkwardly, eyes running wild everywhere but in your direction. You chuckled.

“It’s okay, I already know how much the almighty Mark Lee worried over poor little me.”

Mark scoffed, his embarrassed behavior vanishing. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I see that hit to your head didn’t help with your sharp tongue, disappointingly.”

He swiftly moved away, starting to walk away from you until your hand clasped around his wrist, stopping him mid step.

“Wait, I just… I wanted to thank you.”

Mark seemed confused now, turning back to you with furrowed eyebrows.

“Thank me? What for?”

“Standing up for me and uh, you know, taking care of me.”

Mark’s face darkened at the memory of your beater.

“That git was just asking for it and I barely did anything.”

“Then at least let me repay you for the chocolate frogs you brought me.”

Now he seemed to choke on a confused ‘huh?’ with a bewildered expression that just melted your otherwise cocky demeanor.

“W-what? How-”

Mark’s words died in his throat as you slotted your lips against his in a teasing kiss, your hand holding the nape of his next affectionately and pulling him closer you. Mark took a few moments to realize it was actually happening in reality, not just an illusion from the lack of sleep. His hands came up to your waist, wrapping you in his embrace and pulling you against him impossibly closer. Years of pushed down passion and longing were exchanged in that moment, dizzying both of you.

As you pulled away from each other for air, Mark could taste the faint sweetness of chocolate on his lips. He smiled and his whole rival image turned into a lovesick teenage boy with a smile brighter than the sun. He laughed quietly, thumbs caressing your sides gently.

“I see you enjoyed your chocolate.”

You leaned more into him, pulling his face so close to yours that your noses brushed against each other’s, your ravished breath fanning across his lips as you whispered.

“I did. I’m glad I’m so interesting to you that you observe me in class enough to know that I collect chocolate frogs cards.”

You expected a blush to paint his cheeks red, an elbow in your side or at least an annoyed huff but you got none of that. Instead, one of Mark’s hands came up to cradle your cheek as he stared deep into your eyes with an unreadable look.

“Excuse me but it’s hard not to look when I have the prettiest person I’ve ever seen who also happens to be my crush since 3rd year.”

Your eyes widened, searching his for any hint that he may be just lying or teasing you. But all you could find was pure, unadulterated fondness, a withheld fire burning low in his eyes. He leaned down, lips brushing against the shell of your ear and sending goosebumps across the expanse of your skin.

“It’s been so hard not to just pull you aside and snog you senseless, especially in your Quidditch uniform.”

You decided to play along. You brought your fingers to his heated neck, running them faintly over his skin and you smirked seeing him shiver at your touch.

“Having a kink for uniforms, Lee?”

Mark screeched lowly, pulling away from you as if burned. He smoothed down his robes, fixating you with a glare that made you laugh.

“Y/N, I’m serious, though. I like you, I really really lo-….like you.”

You noticed his stutter, but it only made your smile widen as you stretched out a hand to intertwine his fingers with yours and pull him along down the corridor.

“Hm, I’ll need some more proof of that.”

Mark squeezed your hand in response, chuckling at you sweetly. He leaned over, pressing a feather like kiss to your temple.

“Don’t worry, you’re nowhere done with your payment back to me. And I only accept it in the form of kisses and cuddles.”

You smiled at each other, your hearts finally settling satisfied in your chests after years of internal turmoil that finally burned out.

“That can be arranged easily.”

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Blind Spot

Spencer Reid x (Gender Neutral) Reader

Word Count: 2640

Warnings: Hair pulling kink! Bucketloads of sexual tension but no actual sex. Gratuitous facts about bird nests. Dorks being oblivious. Lots of fluffy heart-eyed banter. Accusations of intercourse with fictional tree-beasts. 

A/N: I saw a gif that made me want to pull Spencer’s hair. That’s it. I have zero shame. 

For the “friends to lovers” square on my @cmbingo​ card! Proofread by @fangirlxwritesx67​ because she’s the best. 

“You look like you fucked an Ent,” you commented cheerfully, stealing sideways glances at Spencer while you waited for the light to change.  

“Thanks, that’s helpful.” He grimaced, trying to tug another burr out of a snarled curl. 

“Oh my god, you’re just making it worse! I’ll help you when we get back to your place. Leave it, you goober.” 

“Did you just call me a goober?” Spencer asked, trying not to laugh. 

“You’re like the dictionary definition of a goober,” you said fondly. 

“I have three PhDs!”  

“I really wish I’d gotten a video of that tumble, Doctor Goober.” 

Spencer was blushing, grinning down at his lap as he shredded a piece of leaf. It was hard not to stare at him when he smiled like that. 

He’d essentially face-planted into a burr bush earlier, somewhere in the Virginia woods — he’d been so excited about explaining some wonky bit of Star Trek physics theory to you that he just forgot to pay attention to his feet — and he’d floundered out with half a hedge stuck in his hair before picking up exactly where he’d left off. 

In other words, Doctor Spencer Reid was a ridiculous human being. You knew that, objectively. It didn’t stop you from having a massive crush on him. 

Either he was pretending not to notice, to spare your feelings, or he was socially oblivious; you tended to believe the former, considering how well you’d seen him read other people, but you appreciated it. There was a chance you’d make it out of this — if you could just get over it already — with your friendship intact. 

You cleared your throat and told him, “You look like the bastard child of Grandmother Willow and the Wizard of Oz scarecrow.” 

“Even if they were real, the anatomical —” 

“You didn’t mention that when I brought up the Ents. Something you want to tell me about you and Treebeard?” 

“You’re ridiculous,” he huffed, trying to sound exasperated, but he could barely keep a straight face for a second before he was laughing, that scratchy sunny childish giggle that only came out when he was really relaxed and carefree. 

“Close the window before a bird sees you and decides to take up residence.” 

“How about you watch the road?”

“What, no facts about bird nests?” 

“Is that a rhetorical question?” 

“Nope.” 

“Well in that case… gyrfalcon nests are frequently re-used and passed along for generations. The oldest one that’s been discovered was in Greenland, and it was actually estimated to be approximately 2,500 years old.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yes! In fact…” 

You had to remind yourself, yet again, to stop staring. 

Maybe someday you’d get sick of hearing Spencer talk, but you couldn’t really understand the way most of your teammates reacted to his rambling. Even if you didn’t care about what he was saying, there was something amazing about the way his eyes lit up and his hands fluttered around to illustrate his point.

You parked in front of his building and followed him upstairs. His apartment had become comfortingly familiar — ever since you and Spencer bonded over a shared love of sci-fi, you’d taken to driving him home and, if it wasn’t too late, sticking around for an episode or two of Doctor Who.  

He got his ancient little DVD player up and running, and you settled on the couch, fluffing pillows and shoving aside his nest of colorful crocheted blankets, getting cozy. There was something about Spencer’s space that always felt like home; maybe it was the smell of books, or just the general Spencer-ness of the whole place. 

Just being around him had always kinda felt like home, too. Sometimes you forgot you’d only known him for six months. 

He disappeared into his room for a second and came back with a comb. It was cheap plastic, missing a couple teeth, and looked like it hadn’t been used in a while. You looked from him to the comb and back again. 

“That actually explains a lot,” you said, grinning. Spencer rolled his eyes and sat down on the floor in front of you, leaning back against your shins, and after a dismayed glance at his curls, you commented, “We could always just shave it all off.” 

“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer,” he said primly. 

You started with a couple of the less tangled pieces, finger-combing carefully through one soft lock at a time. You half-expected some comment about primates and social grooming, or at least a few facts about the quantum theory behind the TARDIS, but Spencer was uncharacteristically quiet and still, his eyes fixed on the TV. 

You separated out one of the worst knots, and he tilted his head to the side to give you better access. You were being as gentle as possible, but you knew you were hurting him at the first tug — he sucked in a breath, knuckles going white as his fingers clenched on his knees. 

“Sorry, I’m trying,” you sighed. 

With his head tilted like this, you could see the muscle clenching in his jaw and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. 

“S’okay,” he whispered hoarsely. “It’s not — not your fault.” 

He sat there stiffly as you worked. His hair was silky, where it wasn’t hopelessly knotted, and you were close enough that you could smell whatever clean, sweet shampoo he used. Something about it made you want to hold your breath; it felt like you were too close. Spencer rarely let you inside his little bubble of personal space. 

Maybe that was why he seemed uncomfortable. He was usually so fidgety, tapping out a rhythm or twirling a pen between his long fingers, and it was strange to see him motionless like this. 

You ran your fingers through a de-tangled section, slow and careful, and Spencer shivered, his shoulders trembling for a moment before he went unnaturally still again. 

Spencer blurted out, “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

At the same time, you asked, “Are you cold?” 

You paused for a moment, surprised by the reaction, but after hesitating, Spencer just muttered, “Yeah. Cold.” 

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were missing something. It was too warm, if anything; Spencer had a patchy flush crawling up his neck and over the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones. 

“Here you go, goober,” you said, awkwardly cheerful in an attempt to cover your uncertainty as you grabbed an afghan from the couch and draped it around his shoulders. 

“Thanks.” He pulled the blanket down onto his lap without looking at you. “But maybe I should just do this myself.” 

“You’re never gonna get this loose on your own, not without scissors,” you warned, plucking at the knot around the last burr in his hair. “I’ll just, um — I’ll try to be more gentle.” 

“Maybe just go for it,” he said. “Get it over with.” His voice had gone all high-pitched and strained, like he was on the verge of a panic attack. If this was how much he disliked physical contact, no wonder he always avoided hugging you. 

You tried to go quickly, figuring that one quick moment of pain was better than another ten minutes of making Spencer uncomfortable. In your nervousness, you ended up tugging the burr out much more abruptly than you’d intended, and Spencer let out this rough, low, choked-off sound. Before you could apologize, he was jerking away from you, curled in on himself with his shoulders up around his ears like he was worried you were going to hit him, and — 

“Sorry,” he said, voice cracking. 

— what? 

“Spence?” you said tentatively. “What—”

He was still just curled up on the floor in a ball of gangly limbs, but he half-turned to you, twisting around. He wouldn’t make eye contact, though; he was staring intently at the pillow that was on the couch next to you. It felt weird, looking down at him like this, so you slid down onto the floor, hoping it wouldn’t spook him. He shifted back slightly, but at least he didn’t flinch away. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t — this was a bad idea.” 

The profiler in you couldn’t help but notice a few details. He was blushing, for starters. His lower lip was red where he’d been biting it, and — this was the part that surprised you most — his pupils were huge. 

You knew what Spencer looked like when he was panicking, and this wasn’t it. 

“Oh,” you breathed. “Oh.” 

He looked down at his lap, frowning as he played with the loose thread in the cuff of his sweater. 

“Sorry,” he repeated. “I know you don’t feel the same way, I wasn’t trying to — I didn’t realize it would be like that, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and—”

“Wait, what?” 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable! I shouldn’t have asked—”

“I don’t feel the same way about what?” 

“I know you’re not attracted to me,” Spencer said, barely audible. 

“You’re… you…what?” 

He looked up, at that, genuinely startled. There was something sweet and vulnerable shining in his eyes, and your heart was racing. You slid a little bit closer, so that your knees were almost touching Spencer’s as you faced each other, cross-legged. 

“I thought you knew.” His hushed, croaky voice broke on the last word. “I thought I was being obvious.” 

You gaped at him for a second before letting out a sharp, hysterical giggle. 

He ducked his head again, hiding behind a curtain of hair, but not before you saw the hurt expression that flashed across his features. 

“No, that’s not—” you blurted out. “Spence. Spencer.” 

“Forget it,” he said sharply, his body going tense like he was about to bolt. “Can we just forget this happened?” 

Before you could think better of it, you reached out and pushed a few curls back behind his ear, and then you grabbed, twisting your fingers in his hair to tug him forward. You cut off the startled noise he made with a clumsy, eager kiss. 

The angle was all wrong, both of you leaning forward awkwardly, but it felt like sparks all down your spine.

You pulled away just far enough to get the words out: “I thought I was being obvious.”  

Then Spencer was surging closer on his hands and knees, crowding into your space, until you had a lapful of rumpled doctor pressing you back against the couch. He cupped your jaw with gentle spidery fingers, gaze locked on your mouth, and leaned in slowly like he was still waiting for you to push him away. 

There was nothing awkward about it this time. If the first kiss was sparks, this was fireworks — it was such a goddamn cliche you wanted to kick yourself for thinking it, but it was true. Your head was spinning. Every pillowy press of his lips and soft slide of his tongue seemed to steal the breath from your lungs. 

By the time you broke apart you were panting, but at least you weren’t the only one. Spencer’s chest heaved as he pulled away. He was still staring at your mouth like he couldn’t help himself. Part of you wanted to kiss him again and maybe never stop, but another part of you was paralyzed, trying to process the fact that this was actually happening. 

You just wanted to put the world on pause so that you could memorize everything: the way he licked his lips, the smell of his laundry detergent, the barely-perceptible movement of his pulse — you’d never seen that before because you’d never been this close to him before. You wanted to hold onto it, even the less-than-perfect details — the soundtrack of buzzy Dalek screeching in the background — the way you were folded together on the floor, all too-long legs and bony elbows, which was going to get uncomfortable fast.  

Spencer seemed to feel the same way. He grazed the pad of his thumb over your lower lip, then followed the curve of your smile out to your temple and traced the shell of your ear with careful fingertips. When he brushed his curled-up fingers along the ridge of your cheekbone, you turned your head and kissed his knuckles.  

His hand came to rest on your shoulder, and you wrapped your fingers around his wrist, holding it in place, feeling the blood and bones shifting under the skin.  

“You really didn’t know?” you whispered. 

He shook his head shyly and gave you one of those incandescent smiles that always made your heart race. “No idea.” 

“I thought you were just ignoring it to spare my feelings,” you confessed. 

“I thought you were doing that.”  

“I thought you were good at your job!” you laughed. “Aren’t you supposed to be a genius or something?” 

“I think I have a blind spot, where you’re concerned.” He was blushing again. “But I was so distracted by you that I walked into a bush! How did you not —” 

“I’m the one who stares at you all the time like a creep.” 

“You thought you were being creepy?” he said sheepishly. “As soon as you started touching my hair — oh my god that’s embarrassing.” 

“That’s not the word I would’ve used.” 

You tangled your fingers in his curls, tugging experimentally. His breath hitched. 

Both of you were utterly still for a moment, watching each other, and the tension between you seemed to fill the air like a living thing. You were excruciatingly aware of all the places your bodies were touching.

You considered all the places you could touch. It would be so easy. You could tug him in, kiss him, melt into each other… there were so many possibilities, suddenly, and there was something incredible about that: the electricity, the excitement, the moment of pure potential in the pause between certainty and action. 

Spencer sighed, long and shaky, and you were so close that you could feel the current of exhaled air. 

“I couldn’t think straight,” he murmured, with a twitch of a smile. “That doesn’t happen to me often.” 

“So you didn’t know…” 

You scritched your fingernails down his scalp, marveling at the way he shivered and swayed closer like he was hypnotized. He curled his hand around the side of your neck, thumb slowly stroking the hinge of your jaw. 

“I knew I liked it,” he confessed. “But — within a certain context? Not out of nowhere like that. I didn’t think it would be... like that.” 

“Like what?”

“Intense.”  

“Yeah?” 

“But I think maybe it’s just you.” His eyes had gone all glassy and heavy-lidded, and you could barely breathe. “Maybe you drive me crazy no matter where you’re touching me.” 

“I can think of a few ways to test that hypothesis.” 

You caught a glimpse of his grin, but then he pressed his forehead to yours and his features went blurry, too close for you to focus.

“Never really thought I’d be into dirty talk, but if you’re going to start quoting the scientific method…” 

“Funny, most of the time you never shut up,” you said, giddy and overwhelmed. 

The tip of his nose brushed yours. There was maybe an inch of space between your mouths, and you wanted to close that gap so badly it felt like a physical ache. 

“I mean, if you want me to start rattling off statistics—” 

“Spencer.” You fisted both hands in his hair, tugging sharply, and he shuddered. “Take a hint.” 

“Blind spot, remember?” he whispered, lips brushing yours as they shaped the words, feather-light and maddening. 

“You know, for a genius—” you started, but he kissed you, hungry and sweet like he was making up for lost time, until you’d completely forgotten what you were going to say. 

.

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There is now a sexy follow-up here! 

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If you enjoyed this, please reblog or leave a message! 

[suchalonelysunflower]

Tell Me What You’re Thinking (c.h)

Pairing: Calum Hood x Fem! Reader

Summary: You overhear something you shouldn’t hear. But Calum will make it right, won’t he?

Warnings: ANGST. Language (including insults), mentions of alcohol, drugs and cheating. MC with low self esteem. Some grammar mistakes (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word count: 4 k

Author’s Note: hi I’m back with the angsty shit. This is very self indulgent, and I put Mitchy as a bad guy here, so sorry if you like him? Reblogs, Commets, Feedback and likes are very welcomed and encouraged! I love to hear from you guys ❤️ hope you like it and Happy Reading ✨🦋🌻

My materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?

You sighed as you finished your last paper. It was finals week and you were officially done with your exams and term papers for the semester. The last couple of weeks were rough and no one knew that more than you and your boyfriend Calum who has been by your side through this whole stressing process.

You smiled to yourself as you remembered the encouraging words that Calum often said to you. He knew how hard you worked in school and at your part time job in a law firm, and you appreciated how much he cared for you in times of stress and frustrations. Always cheering you up from the bleechers as you made a name for yourself.

Calum promised that once you were done with school for the semester, he was going to take you out on a well deserved Holiday, just the two of you and Duke as you celebrated another six months worth of work done. Everything was already planned for the next weekend and you couldn’t wait.

You reread your final essay one more time and decided that it was enough for today and if there were any mistakes left, then you’ll deal with them tomorrow. Now the only thing in your mind was a cozy blanket and a feel good movie. But first, you needed to get some food and drinks for your mini celebratory self care session.

The thought of asking Calum to come join you crossed your mind, but you quickly remembered that tonight was boys night. Every couple of weeks Calum and his friends have a little night out to catch up and decompress all of the stress of the week. Tonight was Calum’s turn to host boys night as they decided to have a quiet night in, so they must be having a good time downstairs and you didn’t want to ruin the mood.

With that thought in mind, you carefully placed your laptop on Calum’s side of the bed and carefully untangled your legs from under the covers so you wouldn't wake up Duke, who snuggled with you every time you had to work to keep you company. You put on one of Calum’s hoodies and headed downstairs trying your best to not make any sound.

Before you even reached the last step of the stairs, you could already hear your boyfriend’s laugh and it made your heart flutter. Even after almost three years of being together, his laugh still gives you butterflies every time you hear it, falling even more in love than what is possible.

Once you were in the kitchen, you started looking into the cupboards as you searched for your favorite snacks, but in the end you were unable to find any, thinking that maybe Calum has hidden them somewhere on the top shelves where he knows you can’t reach.

Letting out a small huff, you debated with yourself the option of climbing up the counter or admitting defeat and go ask your boyfriend for some help. Luckily, you didn’t have to decide as you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite scholar” Said Ashton with a light chuckle “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be out tonight since it’s boys night”

You smiled as you let him wrap his arms around you to give you a hug. Ashton was the first friend you made when you moved to LA a couple of years back, he was the one who introduced you to Calum in the first place, and you were very thankful for having him as a best friend.

“I had to finish up some term papers, so I had to reschedule my girl’s night for tomorrow” You explained to the black haired man “And what are you doing here? Need a refill?” You ask, pointing to the empty glass he was holding.

Ashton nodded, “Yeah, but I also needed a time out. Mitchy is kinda being very obnoxious today” He said with a sigh.

Mitchy Collins was a close friend with the boys for many years now, but you can’t say that he is a friend of yours. It’s not like you haven’t tried to befriend the singer, on the contrary, you both had multiple chances to get to know each other but he either ignored you or made things very awkward between you. And, to be honest, you were not that excited to become his friend either. There was something weird about him, a bad vibe per se, that made you not trust him at all. He was always very loud, obnoxious and downright rude sometimes and it made you very uncomfortable. Both Calum and Ashton knew about your uneasiness with Mitchy, so they didn’t push it too far and you were thankful for that.

“Oh?” You asked, trying to mask your discomfort “What is he saying this time?”

“Just a bunch of bullshit, to be honest. He is very high right now and thinks he’s above everyone else” Ashton said, taking a seat on one of the kitchen island stools. You did the same as you offered him a glass of water.

“Are you high right now?” You chuckled.

“Nope. Calum and I decided to stay clean tonight cause tomorrow we start early in the studio and the weed kinda messes up our pipes” He explains.

“What about Luke and Mikey?”

“They are not here yet, they said they needed to finish up something for a song and then they will meet us here” Ashton shrugged, not giving it too much importance “And what about you, darling? How was your day?”

You began to tell Ashton about how you finally finished the semester and how excited you were for your little getaway with Calum next week. However, every couple of minutes you were interrupted by a loud laugh or an obnoxious comment coming from the living room where the rest of the boys were sitting. Sometimes their loud comments started loud conversations that neither of you could help but overhear, but you did your best to ignore them. But some things are easier said than done.

“I’m telling you man! You can do so much better” You heard Mitchy’s voice echoing through the house, followed by a chuckle from Calum who mumbled something among the lines of “Fuck off”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you stopped the conversation you had with Ashton in order to pay attention to what was being said down the hall. You looked at Ash with a confused face, wondering what they could be saying but at the same time not knowing if you should continue listening to their private affairs. You were about to open up your mouth to continue what you were saying until another comment made by Mitchy caught your attention.

“You have to admit she is the worst sometimes. All she does is boss you around like you are some kind of puppet. She is the definition of annoying”

You sat up straight as you looked at Ashton, who mirrored your puzzled expression.

“Is- is he talking about me?” You asked in a whisper.

Ashton shook his head “I don’t thi-”

“I swear! What does she even do besides work and study all the time? She barely has time for you. You said it yourself! And when she’s not doing any of those things? She’s nagging around and clinging to you like you’re a damn purse! That’s who Y/N is”

You froze in the spot. So they were talking about you… and did Calum really say you don’t have time for him? You don’t even get time to yourself and he knows that! He said he was okay with it, that he understood and supported you through and through… Guess not.

“I still don’t know what you saw in her, dude. She’s just plain boring, playing to be a good girl when in reality she has zero personality” He continued his rant “She does nothing for you! Honestly! I’m surprised you made it this far with that bitch”

You knew that wasn’t true. He never really made an effort to get to know you! how could he be saying all those stuff? You did everything for Calum, all your goals, your plans are for the both of you. How could he know that if he never really talked to you? But you had to admit that that first comment really hurt. You were always doubting yourself at the beginning of your relationship with Calum, always feeling like you weren’t good enough, or pretty enough, or smart or fun or hot… To fight off those kinds of feelings was a difficult job to say the least, but Calum was always there to fight them with you, reassuring you that he loved you. He loved every part of you and he will love you forever.

“Is she at least a decent fuck? Cause I don’t see her doing anything remotely interesting in bed” Mitchy laughed “If she’s not she’s just wasting your time”

You noticed how Ashton suddenly stiffened next to you when he heard Mitchy’s comments. His knuckles turned white as he gripped his fists at the side of his body “Okay, that’s enough” But you were quicker, grabbing onto his shirt as a sign to make him stay there with you and not cause a scene.

His eyes found yours and you could see the anger build up on them, you knew that he would defend you no matter what and you loved him for that. But you knew Calum would defend you over there, he wouldn't let him talk about you that way.

“Ash, please” You pleaded, tugging on his shirt for him to take a seat again. But he preferred to stay standing next to you, almost like guarding and shielding you from any other comment that might hurt your feelings.

“I can’t let him talk about you like that!” He hissed. But you just shook your head.

“I know, Ash. I know. But Cal will handle it” You said confidently, trying to keep yourself together.

You knew Calum would not let those comments slide. Even if you weren’t in the room with him, those comments were awful and very hurtful, no one deserves to be treated like that, especially by someone as close as a friend of his.

You waited for his intervention, but your heart crushed when the only thing you heard from him were laughs.

“She’s a good fuck” That’s all he said.

The grip you had on Ashton’s shirt suddenly flattered as you fought the lump in your throat “Y-you said he wasn’t high” You whispered to Ashton, who was just as frozen as you were after hearing his best mate’s comment.

“He’s not” He said, standing tall next to you. As much as he wanted to go in there and give the guys an earful, he knew you needed him here with you.

Out of all the things Mitchy has said, out of all the insults and belitments, that’s what he says? That you’re a good fuck?

You knew that you could be annoying sometimes when you got happy. You just wanted to share that happiness with everyone around you and you thought… you thought that Calum liked that. You were not a bad girlfriend, you always tried your best to make him as happy as he makes you; to love him as much as he loves you, cause he loves you. Doesn’t he?

If he loves you then why is he letting his friend say all of this stuff about you? Why is he not saying anything? Does- does he agree with him?

The tears started rolling silently, half of you not believing what you were hearing while the other half clang to the idea of Calum defending you at some point.

“Oh I know!” Said Mitchy after a while “I can introduce you to someone! Right now, actually. Her name’s Vanessa and she’s crazy hot, dude”

He can’t be serious.

Ashton looked at you with pleading, furious eyes. Almost begging you to go and let him deal with them. But you grabbed his hand and made him stay. This has to be it. This has to be the chance for Calum to say something.

“You’re kidding right?” The curly haired man asked. Making you let out a breath of relief.

“Not at all! Think about it. We go, you meet her, you fuck her and done!” He said like it was nothing “Y/N will never find out cause she’s stuck up her ass. Your fans will never know or they won’t care cause they don’t even know you are in a ”relationship” to begin with! You are single to their eyes. And you get a decent fuck from someone who looks the part and knows how to have fun! It’s a win - win!”

Your heart stopped as you waited for Calum to answer. To tell Mitchy to go fuck himself. To tell him that he loves you and would never do that to you.

“I don’t know, man. I’ll think about it” Calum shrugged “Plus, if we go out I’ll have to tell Y/N. She’s upstairs finishing some shit for her university”

“Fucking hell… see! I told you! A stuck up bitch” Mitchy said, making Calum laugh.

But their laughs and the rest of the conversation grew numb to your ears. Your body trembled as the tears came flooding in, holding in the sobs that were tearing up your throat. How could he? He was really thinking of cheating on you.

You could feel every little piece of your heart shattered as you search for some kind of leverage that could hold you still so you don’t fall and break. You felt ill, disgusted and heartbroken.

As you tried to get up, you felt your knees buckle and almost fell to the ground if it weren’t for Ashton holding you up. He was still there and you knew by the look in his eyes that he was not going anywhere.

He was just as disgusted and angry as you. He couldn’t believe all the things that were said tonight, all the things that Calum failed to make it right and hurt you in the process. He knew that if he were in that room that the conversation would’ve died the moment it started. He would never let them talk about you that way.

“I-I can’t-“ You cried, moments away from hyperventilating “I can’t stay here, Ash”

He nodded, pulling you into a hug and kissing the top of your head for reassurance “Go upstairs, love. Grab your stuff and we’re getting out of here. You’re staying with me tonight, okay?” Ashton let go of you and started walking towards the living room where the rest of the guys were still talking.

“Ash” You called, making him turn around “D-don’t make a scene, please”

He sighed as he muttered a quiet “okay” before turning around, leaving you alone as you went upstairs to grab the bare necessities to spend the night, you’ll figure out the rest later. Right now you just needed to get out of here.

You opened the bedroom door and almost collapsed at the entrance. Duke came running towards you, sensing that there was something wrong as he started to whine and tried to jump into your arms. That only made you cry harder as you realized that you were leaving him too. You fell to the floor and patted the puppy as he tried to wipe off your tears with his tongue, breaking your heart even more.

A loud voice cut you out of your thoughts. You could hear Ashton yelling, although you couldn’t exactly figure out what he was saying. This meant that Calum knew you heard everything and that, if he had at least some decency left in him, he would come and get you. You needed to act fast.

You stood up and grabbed the first big bag that you could find. Inside of it you threw your laptop, your books, your charger, some clothes and some bathroom essentials. You debated on whether or not to take with you a picture of you, Calum and Duke… it was your favorite memory with them. But the damage was stronger than the nostalgia, so you threw that picture to the ground before you left the room that once belonged to you.

You were running down the stairs when you passed Calum running up them. You ignored him as he stopped in his tracks and followed you to the hall.

“Y/N!” He said, desperate to try and stop you “Y/N, baby, please! Hear me out!”

“Hear what?! I already heard enough!” You said as you turned around.

Calum’s face was almost unrecognizable. The fear in his eyes, the desperation in his voice and his close off body language was not something you’d normally see in him. The “I fucked up” expression showed all the regret in the world, yet you didn’t seem to care at the moment.

“I. Heard. All of it, Calum” You cried through gritted teeth, anger boiling inside of you as you stared at the man you thought you’d marry “All of it and not once did I hear you say something to try and defend me. How do you think that made me feel?!”

“Baby-“ He tried, but you cut him off.

“I work my ass off all day and night for you, for us. For me to go and see you on tour like you ask me to, knowing damn well I would go to the ends of this fucking earth for you! Catching up extra classes and shifts so I can go with you. I cancel everything to be with you. I gave up everything for us to be together. I barely even have time for myself as I try my best to be something worthy of you!” Your tears were staining your face, but you pushed away the pain for a moment, knowing that once you break down it’s over “I try my best to be a good girlfriend, a good friend! I loved you with all my heart and this is what I get after almost three years? A good fuck? That 's it?”

Calum’s world fell to the floor as he tried hard to fight off the lump in his throat, whispering in a broken voice “Loved?”

“That’s all you get from it?” You ask defeated “Calum I would’ve never let my friends call you names, insult you or offend you in any way. I would’ve gone to the ends of the world for you, defended you till the day I die. All because I trusted you to do the same for me and you failed me, Calum. You broke me. You let him call me a bitch, a stuck up, worthless, stupid, bossy, annoying… should I go on? Cause those words are now printed in my memory, next to you agreeing to all of those things. Is that what you think of me?”

“Baby, I swear it’s not like that!” He said, grabbing your hand and trying to make you stay “I fucked up! I know! You are right, I failed you and you don’t know how much I hate myself for it! But please, love. You know I could never think of you like that… you are the most wonderful person there is! You are kind, smart, loving, beautiful-“

“Did you cheat on me?” You ask bluntly.

“What?”

“Did you cheat on me?”

“No!” Calum said instantly “No, I would never!”

You nodded “Yet, you thought of it.”

Calum opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off again “Is that why you never made our relationship public? So you could have a free pass whenever you want to? Cause I thought it was to protect our privacy, for us to have a normal life in the midst of the chaos that is to date a celebrity. When you told all of that I thought “wow, this is a guy with integrity and with values” Yet I don’t know what to believe now. I thought you loved me-“

“I do love you-“

“I thought you loved me” You said, the tears were already dry as the anger came flooding in “But you don’t hurt the people you love. You don’t break them like you did to me. You don’t let anyone hurt them, even if they are not in the room with you. And you don’t cheat on them like you were going to tonight with that girl Vanessa while I waited here like an idiot for you to come home and spend some time with me”

You pull your hand out of his grasp, holding onto your bag as you heard Calum cry “Y/N-“

“You are free to do whatever you want now, Calum. Cause to the eyes of your fans you are single, and I am as well”

You turned around and saw Ashton waiting by the door with his keys in his hand. He opened up the door for you as you walked by, ignoring all of Calum’s pleads for you to stay.

“So you are just going to leave?!” He yelled, not knowing what else to do. “Whe- Where are you taking her Ashton?”

The black haired man made sure that you were already sitting in his car before turning around to face his friend “I’m taking here with me and away from you cause that’s what she needs now. So don’t bother calling or showing up cause you are not welcome right now. And don’t even try to call Luke or Michael cause they already know and we won’t support you on this” Ashton said as calm as he could. He already told him off, but the anger of seeing you cry in front of him still resided in him.

“I- I love her , Ash! You can’t just take her away from me. I’m her boyfriend!”

“Correction, you were her boyfriend. And I can take her away and I will cause she asked me to” He said taking an intimidating step closer to Calum “Cause while you were here talking trash about her behind her back, planning on how to cheat on her. I was back there, holding her while she broke down crying cause she couldn’t believe that her boyfriend didn’t stand up for her and let a fucking stranger insult her all night long! You weren’t there to see her eyes water or her lip tremble. You weren’t there when she begged me with tears in her eyes to not make a scene cause all she wanted to do was to get out of here. She is the most amazing person ever, she is a light in all of our lives and you extinguished her without a second thought. You might be my friend, but she is too and I love her and I will defend her no matter what, she doesn’t deserve this kind of crap you just showed to her. So don’t count on me to try and help you get her back, I won’t blame her if she doesn’t”

Calum felt small as Ashton walked away from him, closing the door with a bang and leaving him all alone in his big house. Well, almost.

“Dude, that was intense” Mitchy laughed as he placed a hand on Calum’s shoulder “So, wanna go now?”

A blind rage fell over Calum as he heard the mocking laughs of his so-called friend, acting like his life just didn’t fall apart in front of him.

Calum grabbed the singer by the neck of his shirt and pushed him forcefully against the wall “You are going to get out of my house and never come back. You hear me?!” He yelled to his face, almost letting out steam from his nostrils as he was sure he could kill him right now.

“Dude, what’s wrong with yo-“

Calum quickly grabbed a bottle from his nearby mini bar, suddenly gaining all the courage he should’ve had hours ago, and throwed it to Mitchy’s feet, making him jump “Get the fuck out!” He yelled, grabbing bottle after bottle, glass after glass and throwing them into the ground “OUT!”

Only when the last bottle was smashed into pieces did he realize he was completely alone.

And only then did he allow himself to cry for the loss of the love of his life, walking away from him and leaving him to pick up the pieces of two broken hearts.

part 2

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @talksoprettyjjx @mystic-232

[favescandis]

NEW interview with Alexander Skarsgård about Godzilla vs. Kong and The Northman with Uproxx

Alexander Skarsgard Knows You Don’t Care About Him In ‘Godzilla Vs Kong’

MIKE RYAN, SENIOR ENTERTAINMENT WRITER MARCH 30, 2021

Yes, Alexander Skarsgard is under no false impressions that you are looking forward to Godzilla vs. Kong to see the adventures of his character, a geologist named Dr. Nathan Lind. You see, Godzilla has been causing some problems for humans for unknown reasons and, just maybe, Kong can take care of business and let Godzilla know that his antics aren’t appreciated by means of a knuckle sandwich. And Dr. Nathan Lind has been studying Kong for years and has a good idea of what Kong’s motivations might be and what Kong actually wants.

So, yes … there are times where there is not a lot to talk about when even one of the lead actors in a movie admits people aren’t coming to see him or his character. Though from past interviews, I know Skarsgard has a pretty good sense of humor, so the real questions soon devolved into kind of outlandish fake questions and, luckily, Skarsgard ran with them.

Also, Skarsgard’s next film is The Northman, which is interesting for a couple of reasons. First, he teams with Robert Eggers, which will be the director’s followup to the acclaimed The Lighthouse. Second, it will completely screw up Google searches for True Blood fans searching for Skarsgard’s character, Eric Northman. And, yes, he’s thought about that and wonders how many people will show up expecting to see vampires. (There will be no vampires.)

It’s funny, because just the title of this movie, that isn’t false advertising.

Oh yeah.

Multiple fights.

It’s almost a two-hour-long movie, and it’s like an hour and 55 minutes of fighting.

So what’s this like for you? When you sign onto something like this? Because it’s Godzilla and Kong and they’re going to wind up getting a lot of the attention.

It’s humbling for a narcissistic actor like myself, to be put in my place, to show up on set and know that no one will go to see this movie because I’m in it.

Well, that’s not true. I have noticed over the years you do have a fan base that goes nuts for you.

That’s flattering to hear. But I’m under no illusion that I’m the star of the show and that anyone will go see the movie because they want to see Nathan Lind, the geologist.

The geologist.

Yeah, well, in a way, to be a vessel and a way for the audience to get to know, in my character’s case, Kong, more so than Godzilla, because I’m with Kong throughout the movie. But in a way to not necessarily humanize Kong, but to show a different side of Kong, to show that he has empathy. He’s lived a very solitary, lonely life on Skull Island without social connections, without family. And the thought of him to be reconnected, or to find his family in Hollow Earth is, is kind of the driving force, to reconnect. So I felt like my job was kind of set that up in a way and to kind of show the audience that side of Kong.

Well, you said people aren’t coming to see Dr. Nathan Lind, the geologist. But once here, where you tell me, how you’ve spent the last five years, studying with geologists and following them around and becoming a trained geologist yourself, people will look at this in a different way.

Right? Well, that’s how seriously I take my job.

You threw yourself into it. The last, maybe, ten years, you’ve been studying with geologists, just to know exactly what you were doing in this movie.

It’s just the kind of actor I am, Mike. Even though I play a very peripheral character and no one cares, I still take my craft seriously. And that means a decade of studying geology and living, breathing the character. Just to give the audience that sublime performance that I give in the movie.

When you’re giving the technical jargon during the movie, viewers can rest assured that you know exactly what you’re talking about, because you studied for so long with trained geologists.

Exactly. And they can see that in my eyes, that I’m not lying. I’m not pretending. I’m not acting. I’m not playing a geologist. I am a geologist.

You are a geologist.

Yes.

So when you filmed at Hollow Earth, in the center of Earth, was that on location?

Obviously, it was.

Yeah, I could tell.

And being there was trippy. I felt like you can’t … the audience can tell whether you’re there or when you’re actually there, or if it’s the soundstage with green screen. So the only way to do it, when you make a character driven drama, like Godzilla vs. Kong, is to actually go there and actually spend time down there and be there with Kong. So it was six very intense months, deep down in the center of the earth with a gigantic ape.

That’s why we haven’t seen you in a while — because you’ve been down there.

I’ve been down there, with a gigantic ape.

Being serious, doing the “there they are” reaction seems especially difficult in this movie, with these being such central characters. And I know that’s part of the deal with a lot of movies, but this seems even more that.

Absolutely. Watching the movie, I could tell that I’m reacting to the wrong thing, like I’m reacting to something else. And they play my reaction to something that I think I’m reacting to, but many things have changed. Or they use that reaction to something else. So they kind of make it work. So it’s like, I look at something, and I think I’m reacting to something completely different, but I’m not. They completely changed that. So it’s quite a ride and exciting to watch the movie, because I’m as surprised as the audience. When I watch it, like, “Oh really? That happened.” And, “Oh, look at my reaction here.”

The scene that we all saw in the trailer, which surprisingly happens pretty early in the movie, where Kong just punches Godzilla in the face. So do you watch the movie and go, “If that really would have happened in front of me, I might’ve reacted quite differently than I did even in the movie”?

Well, that specific sequence, they actually had in the pre-visualization, so that actually looks quite very, very, very close to what the previs two years ago looked. So Adam [Wingard] played us that. So pretty much the whole fight scene was choreographed before we shot our reactions to it. So I knew that that punch was going to land, and that’s what I’m reacting to.

We’ve given Dr. Nathan Lind a lot of time, and we’ve given King Kong a lot of time. We haven’t really talked about Godzilla. He gets annoyed when people bother him. I relate to that.

Me too. Going into the movie, I was very much team Godzilla. I love the old Godzilla movies, like the ’60s and ’70s, that era, when it’s zero special effects.

Just a guy in a suit and it’s awesome.

It’s a middle-aged dude in a suit, kicking a miniature version of Tokyo on a set.

In your next movie, you’re working with Robert Eggers, The Northman. You’re done filming that, right?

We’re done. Yeah, we shot for six months during the pandemic. We started last summer and finished just before Christmas.

Did you look at his prior movies and just go, “I have to be part of this.”

Well, I courted him. I loved both The Witch and The Lighthouse. And was developing The Northman and was trying to find a director for it. It was a very different iteration of the script, and the story was very different from what we ended up shooting. But I had a version of a viking movie that I wanted to make and basically went after Rob. He was my dream director and I thought that he would be perfect for this. And that, when I mentioned it to him, it turned out that he was a huge viking fan and knew everything about the mythology.

That doesn’t surprise me for some reason.

Yeah, he knew so much about that world and that era and got really excited about the idea of potentially making this movie. And then he found Sjón, this Icelandic author and poet and screenwriter. And Sjón and Rob together wrote the screenplay to what ultimately became The Northman, the movie that we shot. So it’s something on that was slowly percolating and growing over the course of eight years. So, to finally be on set last year, with the greatest filmmaker of our time and some of the greatest actors of our time, was the highlight of my career, for sure.

Have you thought about how this will screw up Google searches for your True Blood fans?

[Laughs] Yes, I am very much aware of how problematic the title is.

Well, not problematic. True Blood fans are going to have to put in a few other keywords now.

Yeah, that’s true. That’s true. I do apologize for that. And I’m sure some people will be pretty disappointed if they go to see a stand-alone movie about Eric Northman, and then they sit down and it’s a goddamn Viking movie and not a vampire in sight.

I think they’re in for a treat, to tell you the truth.

Well, I hope so. I hope so. I’m very excited about the movie, but I have to admit that, unfortunately, there are no vampires in the movie.

‘Godzilla Vs. Kong’ hits theaters and HBO Max on March 31st.

Photo credited to Getty. [Paris Men’s Fashion Week Armani show, July 2, 2019]

https://uproxx.com/movies/alexander-skarsgard-interview-godzilla-vs-kong-the-northman/

[fangirl-creates]

ZERO OVER YONDER (FULL FIC)

(Likes and Reblogs are appreciated!)

1 - Banjo Pluck

“Look, all I’m saying is—would it kill Rippen to just have a little chill once in a while?” The red-headed boy vented to his friends as they walked to the movie theater.

“Penn, Rippen is Rippen. Of course he’s still gonna be rude to you when we’re not saving the Multiverse.” Sashi commented, wanting desperately to hear the end of these complaints spilling out of Penn’s mouth.

“Well yeah, obviously. But today, there was just no end to it! Like even when I was eating lunch, BAM! There he was!” He folded his arms, his face turning about as red as his hair at this point.

Rippen had definitely been more annoying than usual today. The reason? Probably having a bad day and picking on Penn was the only thing that would bring him ‘joy’...if you’d even call it that. And even though Penn had learned to ignore Rippen during times like these, today was one of those ‘impatient’ days for Penn Zero—considering the fact he had stayed up till 3am last night on a count of The Chinchilla bothering him again.

“Don’t worry about it, dude.” Boone put his arm around his friend, patting his back. “I’m sure beating Rippen again will put you in a good mood. Think of it as a way to get back at him.”

“Yeah!” Sashi chimed in. “I’ll even let you kick him in the face this time.” She smiled.

Penn felt a little better, the red from his face fading away. “Thanks, guys.”

The trio stepped onto their usual spots on the zap platform, Penn cracking his knuckles.

“I’m really gonna let him have it today.” He grinned between his teeth.

“Violence must wait till tomorrow!” Phyllis called from her spot on the balcony.

Penn titled his head. “...I don’t understand.”

“You will see.” She pulled the lever, the trio levitating as they were forced into the portal. “GOOD LUCK!”

After the brilliant blue flash, Penn opened his eyes. Space. He saw Space. Below him was the material of some kind of smaller planet he stood on—“Purple-colored dirt” in his Earth vocabulary. But that wasn’t the thing that surprised him...it was the body he was in. It was weirdly insulating, like a very thick fur coat—that’s when he realized he was covered in it. Orange fur coated him from head to toe. The only articles of clothing he was actually wearing were white socks and some slightly worn blue sneakers. He felt..uncomfortable.

“Penn?” Sashi’s voice made itself known.

Penn looked up, a bit surprised she was taller than him now. “Sashi! You’re a—uh….” He studied his friend’s new look. She was blue with a pink mane—yet her body itself was a cross between a horse and a dinosaur. He shrugged it off. “Never mind.” He looked around for the Wiseman. “Where’s Boone?”

“Right here!” A confident voice called, Penn searching for the source.

“Boone? Where are-” He noticed Sashi pointing above his head, to which he realized he was wearing a hat as well. He took it off to find the rather large green hat staring back at him. “Oh.”

“Oh yeah. I definitely feel like a wiseman now…”

“Cause you were on my head and you feel like you can give me knowledge that way.” Penn raised a brow.

Boone did what was an attempted shrug. “Who knows...maybe I’m magic.”

Penn rolled his eyes, placing Boone back on his head. “Okay Sash, check the specs.”

Sashi pressed the side of her glasses, which were now a dark purple to complement the colors of her new form. The holographic image showed up in front of them. “You are a wandering Do-Gooder, and I am your trusty steed and best friend.”

“What about me?” Boone asked, feeling a little left out.

“You’re his hat.” ….She didn’t add anything else.

“Well, I still think I might be magic.” He looked away. “You two just don’t know it yet.”

Sashi rolled her eyes. “Annnnyway, the evil Lord Hater is planning to conquer another innocent planet with his army of Watchdogs. It’s up to us to stop him before he manages to leave the planet successful.” Normally, this was the part where the hologram would disappear, but it lingered.

“All right! Sounds easy enough.” Penn pounded his fists together. “I’ll admit, this body is a little on the weaker side, but I can still give Rippen a good fi-”

“Actually, you can’t use violence at all. I’m the one who can fight them. You stop bad guys by...being nice.” Now the hologram was gone.

Penn suddenly understood what Phyllis meant earlier...and he hated it. “I...I can’t fight him?! Seriously??” His face was turning red again, yet it was hard to tell with the orange fur. “So not only does Rippen get away with all the stuff he did to me today, but now I can’t even GET HIM BACK?!”

“No one said you can’t get him back—you just can’t beat him up.” Sashi folded her arms.

“...Can I at least punch him?”

“No. You’ll ruin the hero’s image.”

Penn covered his face with hands, a muffled scream. He then took a deep breath, calming himself. Thankfully for him, this body seemed to have a very calm mindset...that, and really cheerful one. “Okay...okay, I’ll do my best…for the sake of the mission, and because I don’t want to accidentally break something.” He hopped onto the saddle on Sashi’s back.

“Good choice.” Sashi nodded. “Now how do we get out of here?”

“Don’t look at me—what the??” A small bottle fell onto the ground. Upon closer inspection, it looked like a container for bubble blowing, but it read ‘Orbble juice’, with instructions on the back. Penn shrugged and pulled the wand out, blowing as a large air-tight bubble formed around them, lifting them off the ground. “Now we’re talking!” He yelled out into the bubble, cheerfully. “HEIGH-HO, SYLVIA!”

Sashi and Boone both looked at him.

Penn blinked, not sure what came over him. “S-Sashi...I meant Sashi. Oh, that was weird.”

Thankfully, it was quickly forgotten by the trio, heading on their way to their next destination…

—————————-—————————-—————————-—————————-—————————-————————

2 - A Hero’s Image

Rippen looked at himself in the mirror. In all his years as a Part-Time Villain, he had only been a skeleton once. And even then, it was only for a couple minutes. The complete lack of skin made him feel...exposed. But at the same time, the bone seemed hard as nails, so there was that.

His thoughts were quickly interrupted, however, by the rambles of his cheerful minion—who was in the body of a Commander with the exact opposite personality. But that didn’t affect Larry in the slightest. “Isn’t this eyeball head weird? I mean I’m talking, but there’s no mouth! How crazy is that?” He laughed. “How do people even know when I’m speaking?”

Rippen rolled his eyes. “Your pupil moves, Larry.”

Larry looked in the mirror, expressing a smile as much as a watchdog could to the best of their abilities. “Heh, it’s kinda funny how it bounces like that.”

“Can we get on with it, then?” He was having an exceptionally good day...as far as Rippen’s standards go. And he didn’t want this good mood to go to waste.

“Right, right...sorry.” He laughed softly, pressing the side of his glasses, which were now yellow and only one square instead of two. “Okay, you are the evil Lord Hater and I am your Second in Command. Our Mission is to conquer another poor innocent planet before Penn stops you with-” Larry paused, unsure he was reading this right.

“With what? Come on, spit it out.” Rippen pestered.

“Um...friendship.”

Rippen blinked, a bit stunned by what Larry just said. “Maybe it's the lack of ears that makes it hard for me to hear you, but did you say…‘Friendship’?”

“Yep. He’s supposed to be nice to you.” Larry nodded.

Rippen was silent for a moment, then he burst out laughing. “Penn Zero’s forced to be nice to me!” He laughed again. “If we’re lucky, he’ll break under the pressure, completely ruining the hero’s image! And then I can finally become a Full-Time Villain!” When he laughed a third time, however, green lighting shot from his fingertips as he made a ‘rock n roll’ gesture with both of his hands.

Larry narrowly avoided it, but some watchdogs down the hall weren’t so lucky; loud yelps followed by groaning were heard after getting zapped.

“Wait..what just happened?” Rippen looked at the gesture he was making, a bit confused.

“Oh yeah, you got cool lightning powers! I forgot to tell you that…” Larry attempted a smile again.

For once in his life, Rippen was filled with the absolute confidence that this time...this time, he could not only win...but finally annihilate Penn Zero. He laughed one more time, green lighting sparking around him. “This is it, Larry! Victory is finally at hand!”

Friendship...of all the things. He had been nice to Rippen before, sure, but that was often out of pity...or on rare occasions, when he genuinely felt sorry for him. But this was the first time he was forced to do it. And that fact made him upset. Heck, even the phrase ‘Kill em with Kindness’ was starting to sound not understandable anymore. He glanced at Sashi. “Soooo, this whole ‘friendship’ thing…”

Sashi’s eyes met his, despite being focused on the destination.

“Is he like...allergic to it or something? Is he gonna melt if I hug him??”

“No. You’re just being nice to him...for the 100th time.” She mumbled under her breath.

“I know, I know...it’s just...what’s the point of being nice to your enemy if they’re just gonna continue to do you harm? How is this furball even still alive after constantly clashing with this guy?”

It Never hurts to Help. A little voice said in the back of his mind.

Penn blinked. “Boone, did you say something?” He glanced up.

“Uhh no?”

He scratched his head, thinking. If he was really gonna do this, he was gonna do it right. But how?

As if on cue, Boone jumped up, a Banjo seemingly appearing out of nowhere, landing in Penn’s hands. He stared at it. “Uhhh Boone...where did this come from?” He looked up.

Boone just gasped in response. “I AM magic!!” He said triumphantly.

Penn rolled his eyes, holding the banjo awkwardly. When it came to music, Penn considered himself more of a singer than anything else. But Instruments were not his strong suit...still, this Banjo didn’t look unimportant. He held it the right way, his fingers dancing along the frets. And then, as if on command…he started playing. It wasn’t a specific song or anything too complex, just a simple melody that made his friends smile as he continued. It was so strange...he had never played the banjo before, and here he was; playing it like he’d had years of practice. He was so lost in song, that he didn’t realize he was moving around while he did so. Luckily, they had found their destination before Rippen did, so Sashi was able to land on the ground, giving Penn freedom to do...whatever he was doing.

Sashi was amused by this. She had seen Penn dance before, but this was nothing like how he normally did it. This kind of dancing was silly, almost...cartoonish. What was even funnier was that not only did he dance in tune to the music, but he sang along to it as well. Well...more like sing-talking gibberish. Regardless, he seemed really into it. In fact, he got faster with each ‘verse’. It got to a point where he was strumming so fast, one would think the banjo was going to catch fire.

Penn’s chest went up and down as he breathed heavily, stopping finally. The sound of Sashi clapping caught his attention and he immediately realized what was going on. “O-Oh...yeah I didn’t mean to do any of that….” He blushed.

“It was cute.” Sashi commented. “But, you know, like in a funny kind of way.”

“Yeah, But not so good for me…” Boone managed, feeling a bit dizzy from Penn’s rapid dancing and spinning.

Penn cringed. “Ohh oh no. Do you need a minute? Do hats even get sick??” He thought about it for a second. Unfortunately, his thoughts were interrupted by a loud THUD.

All three turned to see a giant Skull Ship land on the planet’s surface. It opened its mouth, a large tongue landing down as watchdogs began to march in formation, chanting ‘Hate’s Great, Best Villain!’ as they did.

Penn watched, standing proudly as he held the banjo close. “Alright…” He took a deep breath. “Time to go to work.”

—————————-—————————-—————————-—————————-—————————-————————

3 - Never Hurts to Help

It didn’t take long for Rippen to get the Watchdogs out, the inhabitants of the planet already running away in fear. The Do-Gooders were behind a rather large rock. Not the best hiding spot, but a good temporary one.

“Okay, Sash. That’s your cue.”

Sashi cracked her knuckles, but glanced at her friends before she ran off. “I know you can do this, PZ.” Then she was gone—charging into a group of Watchdogs.

Penn watched, taking a deep breath.

“So what are you gonna do?” Boone asked.

Penn hesitated. “Honestly, I have no idea.” He remembered what Sashi had said earlier...No one said you couldn’t get back at Rippen—you just can’t beat him up. Penn remembered how annoying Rippen was earlier...and for some reason, the mindset of this body seemed to know exactly how to annoy him back. A smirk appeared on his face as he ran to find his enemy.

Rippen was having the time of his life, blasting back at forth. What felt even better was that the creatures feared him the closer he got. He didn’t even care Sashi was punching the Watchdogs left and right—as long as he got his reward, he didn’t care what else went wrong.

“Havin’ fun, Rippen?”

And there it was.

Rippen turned to face the orange ball of fur, a cackle at how tall he was compared to the do-gooder. “Well, Well, Well! If it isn’t Penn Zero!” He raised his hands, pointing them at him as green lighting charged between his fingers—the soft glow illuminating on everyone close enough to see. “I know all about this little requirement of your’s to not hurt me-! So now I only have one thing to say to you—!”

Penn’s heart pounded in his chest. Best case scenario, the plan worked. Worst case scenario, Rippen blasts him into the next dimension.

“—Are you ready to meet your demise?”

Penn cleared his throat, standing casually. “Actually, Rippen ol’ Buddy, I’ve got a question for you.” He sounded so calm despite the fear inside of him.

Rippen raised part of his brow, staring down at his enemy. This day had been going so well for him. And if he destroyed him without hearing the question at all, it would haunt him forever. Rippen shrugged, not letting his guard down. “You know what? Ask away!”

Penn breathed a small sigh of relief, taking a step back. “Well I was just thinking...you must be hungry after this...invasion thing.”

Though he didn’t want to admit it, Rippen was starving. He didn’t understand why, but this body had the need to consume every junk food imaginable. And everything it craved, Rippen had never touched in his life. He made a slightly annoyed face at Penn. “Why would it matter to you?”

“Oh no reason…” He pulled out two sandwiches from behind his back. “Just that...uh..got some sandwiches here. Hate for them to go to waste…” He mocked, waving the scent around Rippen’s nonexistent nose. “Truly...truly a shame.”

Rippen’s stomach made probably one of the loudest sounds a stomach was capable of making—strange, considering Skeletons didn’t even have stomachs. He tried to keep his eyes off the two sandwiches, but it was impossible. “Ugh! Just give them to me—!” He tried to reach, but Penn jumped back.

“What’s that? You do want these?” He grinned. “Well, would you prefer—” He threw the first sandwich at Rippen’s face. “Mustard-?” He jumped over Rippen, throwing the other sandwich on his face when he turned around. “-or Mayo?!” He laughed, landing on his feet.

Rippen angrily wiped the sandwiches from his face, staring at Penn with a piercing glare.

Instead of a rude gesture, Penn stuck out his tongue in a playful manner, his legs speeding up. “Come and get me!” And he was gone.

Rippen didn’t know why, but every voice in the back of his head screamed ‘GET HIM!’ no matter what. And that’s exactly what he did. He ran, screaming at the top of his...lungs? Whatever skeletons have.

Penn pulled out the banjo as he ran, turning around as he was now jogging backwards. “How about a little chase music?” He smiled, strumming rather fast. The music seemed to be annoying Rippen even more, which meant it was working.

Meanwhile, Sashi had already beaten up all the Watchdogs while Rippen was distracted. Larry was too busy watching Rippen chase Penn around to notice. Something about it made him want to sigh. He was...disappointed in Rippen?? He shivered, hoping he’d never get that feeling again.

At this point, Rippen was exhausted. He clawed at the ground, now laying on his stomach. Penn, however, didn’t feel tired at all. He felt as though he could run a marathon in seconds. Eventually, he stopped running and walked right over to Rippen, bending down so they were at eye level once more. He put his hands behind his back, a smug look on his face.

“You uh..you doing okay?” He raised a brow.

Rippen wheezed, trying to stand. “W...Watchdogs! Get him—!” It wasn’t until he yelled that when he realized they were all defeated, Sashi standing there triumphantly. “NOOO! I WAS SO CLOSE!!” He wheezed again, his face lightly hitting the ground.

Penn felt a little bad for him. He wasn’t sure why the feeling was so sudden, but he didn’t question it. “Look, you seem pretty exhausted, so I’ll just leave this here for you.” He placed one of the mustard sandwiches and a bottle of a soda labeled ‘Thunder Blazz’ in bright yellow bubble letters on the side.

Rippen stared at the food, standing up as he wolfed down the sandwich. He glared at Penn, pointing at him. “This doesn’t make us friends!” He spoke between bites.

Penn made a face. “I uh...I never said that.”

Rippen blinked, shaking his head. “Oh never mind!” He grabbed the soda and angrily trudged back to the skull ship, Larry patting him on the back as they headed inside.

The inhabitants cheered once the skull ship took off, Sashi running to greet her friends. “You did it, Penn!”

“Yeah!” Boone chimed in. “I’m not exactly sure what you did...but you did it!”

Penn’s eyes watched the skull ship fade from view. Why did Rippen retreat? And why did he think he was trying to be his friend? Even with all these questions, Penn still couldn’t help but feel good about himself…

With another blue flash, the trio was pulled back to the movie theater, landing safety back onto their original spots. Penn looked at himself, no longer feeling uncomfortable, but a bit disappointed the cheerful feeling was gone. “That was probably one of the strangest missions ever...but in a good way.” He managed.

“Yeah, wonder what was up with Rippen after we won…” Sashi added, hand on her chin.

“Sometimes,” Phyills started, coming back down from the balcony. “Enemy is just a friend you haven’t made yet.” She looked at Penn. “Remember that, Penn Zero.”

Penn put his hands in his pockets, a smile. “I will.”

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4 - Epilogue

Later that evening, the space duo set up camp for the night. Sylvia was still trying to process exactly what happened earlier. Her fists were sore from punching Watchdogs, when she hadn’t even done that today? Or had she??

Wander, on the other hand, seemed to be in a particularly good mood. Normally, that wasn’t a surprise in Wander’s case, but it definitely was after the events of today.

“I swear,” Sylvia put some wood on the fire, the flames grasping onto it. “My head’s buzzing like a swarm of bees. The whole thing was so weird…” She sat down next to her friend, who was casually resting, playing a happy tune on his banjo. “How are you keeping it all together, buddy? Doesn’t your head hurt?” She asked, concerningly.

The Nomad looked up at her, smiling. “Because I helped someone.”

Sylvia blinked. “So...you remember what happened today?”

“Nope.” He cheerfully responded.

“...then..how do you know if you helped someone or not??”

“Just a hunch.”

Sylvia rolled her eyes, playfully, rustling his fur. “Okay, buddy…”

Deep within the stars, they saw the skull ship pass by, the voice of Lord Hater screaming into the night sky…

“I CAN’T BELIEVE I ACTUALLY ATE ONE OF WANDER’S STUPID SANDWICHES!!”

Wander chuckled, yawning as he got into his normal sleeping spot. “Yep, not a bad day…”

Sylvia still couldn’t remember what happened, but regardless of that, she was happy Wander still got to help out someone. And in the end, that was all that matters...

END

[misslynn99]

Epicenter: Chapter One

Link on AO3: Epicenter

Author: misslynn_99 (Me!)

a/n: I totally forgot that I could post this here to help bring in traffic lol. This is a Pro Hero! Bakugo x Reader insert I've been playing around with. Enjoy!

Red Riot was a regular of yours. His bright smile lit up the atmosphere of the little coffee shop, infectious and spilling over to anyone else in the vicinity. He was friendly, inviting even, as he ordered two coffees- one plain black and another syrupy sweet with cream. He usually turned up a couple times a week up business causal, perfectly content to leisurely chat and sign autographs before inevitably ducking out shyly, laughing that his partner wouldn’t be thrilled with cold coffee. You’d grown to love the visits of the charming hero, finding it easy to get lost in his easy conversation and brilliant ruby eyes. You couldn’t help but wish that maybe one day he’d order just one coffee and stay a while longer to sip it at a table across from you.

Today was not one of those days. Instead, he barreled through the doors, dragging a bedraggled blonde in across his bare shoulders. The harsh muzzle and shredded fabric of his hero costume was a slap in the face, reminding you that he was not just a charming civilian, but instead one of the finest defenders of the city. The café customers had already evacuated, but you had stayed to quickly close up the shop. “Watch him, will ya?” He huffed. “He’s been hurt. I know you’ve got a minor healing quirk, and he’s in no shape to return to the fight. Deku and Uravity are on the scene too. We can handle it from there, but this idiot will get himself killed just to prove that he’s just fine.”

“Okay,” You nodded. “I’ll do my best to patch him up.”

“Thanks, doll.” He prodded at your check playfully. “I owe you one. Blasty here is quite the bear when he’s pissed. Don’t worry, I made sure his blasters were empty before I brought him to you. I couldn’t have him taking out my favorite place. ” Carefully setting the blonde on the coffee bar, Red Riot raced back to the scene, where a villain with a rouge power-type quirk was wreaking havoc.

“What am I going to do with you?” The words absentmindedly left your lips, fingers tracing a tender looking cut along his arm. Sighing, you stripped the gauntlets from his arms and legs, leaving the pro hero in just the Kevlar of his hero costume.

Angry red bruises already dotted his exposed skin. His chest shuttered unevenly with each shallow breath, and his soft blonde hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat. “I’ve got to have a first aid kit around here somewhere.”

The scent of alcohol almost overpowered the stench of burnt sugar and gasoline that seemed to seep from the blonde’s every pore. Even barely conscious, he hissed a curse as the disinfectant stung his open wounds “Fuck!”

“Red’ll kill me if you get an infection.” You muttered. “Just sit still. I’ll get you something for the pain here soon.”

“Hands off.” He slurred. “I’m going back.”

“Your ribs are broken.” A gentle hand to his chest was more than enough to stop the hero.  “Let me heal you first.”

Stalling was your best option, but sparks danced along the hero’s palms. He left me with Ground Zero, cheeky little asshole. you thought viciously. The feral black mask and fiery red eyes should have been a dead giveaway but, lost in the moment with Red Riot, you had missed it. Ground Zero looked so vulnerable, even as he struggled to resist your help. Each breath seemed to whistle through his gritted teeth. Rivulets of sweat dripped down his brow and splattered onto the counter, and his entire frame shuddered from pain. Yet his steely frown bit back at you, screaming that he was determined to rejoin the fight with a confidence that his words could not convey.

“And Shitty Hair, Deku, and Cheeks aren’t finishing without me.”

“Just let me handle the ribs, okay?” You pacified. “Broken ribs could mean a punctured lung with another hit, and a punctured lung means you’ll spend the next few weeks in the hospital with a chest tube. Even then, you might not get the lung capacity back. So let me fix it.”

“Fine.” He spat. “I’m waiting.”

You felt the heat of embarrassment on your face. “This is going to hurt. A lot.” You gulped. “I need to touch the injury directly, so shirt off.”

Ground Zero motioned to pull the black and orange tank top over his head, but froze. “Can’t move my shoulder like that.” He growled.

“Should’ve known.” You sighed nervously. “You’ve probably got flail chest close to your sternum. Where ever that thing hit you, I think it broke a bunch of ribs so they’re not attached to the rest of your chest wall now.”

“Just fix it.” Ground Zero snapped. “By any means necessary.”

You nodded, intimidated by the hero’s anger. Praying that no one walked in the shop, you carefully peeled the fabric away, and flinched at the sight of the marred skin. Sickeningly black bruises blossomed from just below his clavicle and you tenderly laid a hand across his pectoral. The bones shifted slightly under your touch. His injuries were more extensive than you had expected, as you felt the puffy skin and sharp edges of displaced fractures through the lean tissue of his torso.

“How do I know this isn’t just an excuse to feel me up, perv?” A bright shade of red flushed his cheeks.

“That’s pretty messed up.” You glowered. “I don’t have to do this, you know. All I’d have to tell Red is that I tried but you blew me off and staggered out the door anyways. I don’t appreciate being accused of groping you while trying to do you a favor, so if you don’t want my help we can just wait here.”

“Fine, just get on with it.”

Cool energy trailed from your fingertips, dancing over his skin and sinking in. “Fuck!” He swore again, writhing against the counter. You could feel yourself sway, energy sapping as the bones knit back together. His chest grew warm beneath your touch, or maybe it was just your icy fingers as cold settled in your core.

“Why don’t I feel tired?” He peered curiously at you, as you slumped forward onto the counter.

“Because it saps my energy, not yours. Why do you think I own a coffee shop instead of being a traveling healer?”

“Blasty!” Red Riot’s voice was music to your ears. “I hope you didn’t give my favorite girl too much trouble now.”

“He,” you wheezed. “Still needs to see a doctor. He needs a chest X ray to make sure everything is in the right place. “

“I think you need to see a doctor.” Red’s eyebrows furrowed in concern, running a hand across your forehead, fingers trembling against the freezing skin beneath. “You’re so cold.”

“If I’m going to a doctor, so is this idiot.” You scowled at Ground Zero’s jeer, getting to his feet as if to prove he was just fine.

“Come on.” The blonde grabbed your arm, pulling you across the bar, and attempted to shoulder your weight across his back.

“Not on my watch.” Red caught you before you could hit the ground. “Didn’t she say that you need to be seen? Something tells me that you’re the one who needs to be carried.”

“I can walk myself!” Ground Zero barked, although his knuckles were white from gripping the counter top and his jaw clenched. Your vision was swimming, but he seemed to sway as he took a few unsteady steps towards the door.

“Sure you can.” Red rolled his eyes with a wink your way. “But you’re not taking this lovely lady on a one-way trip to the floor in the process.

“I’ve got them!” A flash of pink and black ducked around Red’s arms, and suddenly you were weightless. “Nearest hospital is a couple of blocks to the north. Deku is taking the villain down to the station, in the quirk-cancelling cuffs. I moved most of the rubble out of the way, but I’ll come back to help with the clean-up. I just had to see how Bakugo was holding up. “

“I think my girl here has him stable.” Red Riot frowned. “But she’s not doing so hot. Why’s that? I thought Blasty here would be the one drained.”

“Quirk,” You slurred, relaxing in to the weightless embrace of whatever was supporting you. “Drains my energy. ‘S why I’m not a healer. He was hurt, real bad. Flail chest, I think.”

“She needs IV fluids.” You were vaguely aware of moving, unbidden, with Red’s arms no longer warming you against his chest as your consciousness dimmed.

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

A gentle prod to the arm stirred you back into awareness. “Hey.”

“Red Riot.” Your head lolled to the side. The cool, metallic hospital bed chilled your bare skin, shivering against the thin blanket. The smell of antiseptic stung, and the image of Ground Zero’s uneven breaths burned behind your eyelids. The tell-tale stiffness in your arm was a sign of the IV already inserted, surely dulling the ache in your own chest with a steady drip of pain medication. “Where is he? Is he okay?”

“Blasty is doing just fine.” His warm hand splayed across your shoulder comfortingly. You hadn’t noticed before, but as he leaned over your bedside, you could have sworn that you saw a hint of black roots amongst his fiery red hair. Concern creased his face, and his cologne tickled at your throat, smelling of patchouli, leather, and pine. “You gave us all quite the scare there. But Ground Zero is a lucky man. The doctors say that you fixed up his five broken ribs, three of which detached from his chest wall.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s in the operating room. They had to go in and stop some of the internal bleeding, and clear out the pooled blood in his chest so it wouldn’t give him a collapsed lung.”

“Thank you, Red Riot.” A sigh escaped your lips.

“Don’t be so formal. My name is Eijirou Kirishima. Call me Eijirou, or Kiri, or just something that’s not my hero name. It’s not like my real name is a public secret.” He laughed.

Stealing a glance to the side, you smirked. “I could call you Sharky.” His eyes widened, and you chuckled. “But I think I like Kiri.”

A doctor quickly cut the exchange short, her harsh raps on the door breaking the moment. “He’s out of the OR and in recovery.” She directed her attention towards Eijirou. “Do you want to go back and see him?”

“You can go, I’ll be okay.”

“Nah, Bakugo would never let me live it down if I ditched a civilian at the hospital.”

“I want to know how he’s doing.” You nudged his side with your elbow, trying your best to look convincing. “I’m a big girl, I can handle myself.”

“I’ll be right back!” The tension in his shoulders eased, sagging in relief. “Don’t leave without me, okay?”

“I’ll hold her discharge paperwork until you return.” The doctor’s lips quirked in a half-smile. “I need to ask her a few questions anyhow, so it is beneficial that you’re out of the room for a little bit.”

Eijirou scurried out, and a pang of affection fluttered in your chest. “He’s such a kind hero.” You sighed.

“He is.” The doctor plucked a pen from the pocket of her white coat and began to add notes to your medical chart. “How are you feeling? Still light headed?”

“I feel much better. Just a bit tired still.”

“Okay, I’m going to release you with orders to take it easy for the next day or so, and if you start feeling poorly, please go either to your general practitioner, or return here for further treatment. I’m going to remove your IV, and then I just need you to sign the discharge paperwork, and wait for your escort to come back.”

“I’m back!” Eijirou grinned as he poked his head in, watching as you signed the papers. “Uraraka is forcibly floating Blasty back to his apartment so he doesn’t wind up passed out on a train somewhere. They’ve got him all sorts of knocked up on pain killers. But I’m ready to take you back to the shop if you’re good to go.”

“I am.” You nodded. “I still need to finish closing up shop, though. I locked up the cash from the register, but the machines need cleaned and the doors need locked before I call it a night.”

Eijirou just smiled sheepishly, his hands ready to steady you as you climbed out of the hospital bed.

“I’m okay.” You whined, batting his arm away playfully. “The press would have a hay day if you held my arm or god forbid carried me anywhere.”

“Oh! Uhh, yeah, you’re right.” He flinched, arms snapping back to his sides, and you instantly regretted even bringing it up as you watched Eijirou school his features to look carefully professional once more, carefully ushering you out the door.

"I think the ladies would be too devastated, if the press made it seem like the most eligible bachelor of the pro heroes was off the dating market.” You joked nervously, trying to ease the tension that had settled between the two of you.

“Obviously.” He rolled his eyes, cracking a slight smirk. “Who else are they going to drool over? No one else is nearly as manly as me.”

"Not even Ground Zero?”

“A close second.” He conceded. “But he really only shows anger and annoyance, which decidedly unmanly. His only downfall.”

The café was in sight again- and mostly still intact. It was nestled between a few other businesses on the strip, quiet and unassuming. You wondered briefly how the heroes had even taken notice, when everything else about the world of heroes seemed so loud and chaotic. The chalkboard outside was  smudged with dust, as were the windows that offered a peak into the cozy shop, but as far as you could see, nothing had been damaged or broken into during your absence.

“I think tomorrow is going to be a long day of cleaning.” You groaned.

“Occupational hazard.” Eijirou laughed. “I think this is where I let you go, though.”

Turning to face him and putting your hand on his shoulder, you looked into his eyes. “Thank you, Eijirou. Thanks for making sure I was okay and that I got home safely. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, and what you continue to do for the city.”

“Just doing my job.” He replied sheepishly, his voice half an octave higher than usual. “I think my patrol shift starts here soon, so I’ll catch on the flipside for my usual.”

Eijirou left, and you carefully locked the doors behind him. The silence was deafening. The café usually buzzed with quite murmurs of those working, catching up with friends, or tentatively flirting with a prospective partner. Normally, the café wouldn’t close for a few more hours, but even leaning against the counter seemed to draw from the deepest reserves of strength you could bare, and you wished Eijirou had stayed.

That’s what you get for making the man so uncomfortable. The voice inside your head whispered cruelly. Shouldn’t get hung up on your silly little crush. He’s just a hero looking to maintain a public image, not get to know you or your life or sweep you off of your feet. You should stop this before you embarrass yourself.

“Kiri is a kind man.” You whispered to yourself, as if to silence your own internal monologue, hands deftly cleaning the espresso machines. “He cares about others. I may not be special, but he is genuine.”

The coffee bar was strangely oily, and once again your senses were assaulted with the stench of over-cooked caramel and thick smoke. Ground Zero was an enigma; you knew that his temper was just as explosive as his quirk, frequently berating civilians unfortunate enough to be caught in his way and chasing away reporters with a more than a few sparks. Yet, despite his notoriously low public approval levels, he still managed to rank as the number two hero. His record for take downs and civilian rescues were immaculate, only outranked by Deku. For someone so who was so determined to be the take over the spot for number one hero, he was prickly at best and outright aggressive at worst. He was a confusing contradiction of everything the public believed of pro heroes, and in his own way, stole the media’s attention as they leaned into Ground Zero’s “bad boy” reputation.

You wondered if he appreciated the media’s attempts to make him more likeable, or if it only annoyed him further. Ground Zero certainly didn’t seem appreciative of your help, nor was he thrilled with Eijirou’s attempts to joke about his bad attitude. He was so different from his partner; Red Riot was the media’s sweetheart, sympathetic and caring, and known for his tendency to help civilians even with menial tasks. He was both an unbreakable force for good against the villains plaguing the city and an approachable everyday hero.

Ground Zero didn’t have that luxury, his humanity lost to his pro hero status. It seemed like a lonely existence. With a sigh, you finished your cleaning, and taped a “Closed early” sign to the front door, and wandered back up to your apartment to rest for the evening.

[oumaheroes]

Character Study P.2

Summary:

A character study of the softer moments between England and France. Part 2: France is followed home by an overworked England.     

Word Count: 4589

Characters: France, England, (FrUK)

Previous part can be found here.

.......

Despite the busy crowds and how tired he was, it did not take France long to realise that he was being followed home.

It was early evening. He had just left the hotel they were using as a location (battleground) for the latest UN meetings and was hoping to catch his favourite farmers’ market before they packed up and closed for the day. There were some things he’d been eyeing up for dinner that, now he’d set his mind on it, he knew he would be loath to change and if there was something France would never compromise on, it was ingredients. So, as soon as the last meeting of the day had ended, he packed up his things, bade his assistant and president a tired farewell, and hurried out of the door before anyone could grab him and ask him for something.

The meetings themselves were nothing fancy, just long national security and trade talks with government officials and other such persons, but which were thankfully being hosted in Paris. France did not like travelling about much these days, he’d done quite enough of that in previous centuries and he wasn’t afraid to admit that he was happy to enjoy a more relaxed lifestyle at a polite distance from politics. England might call it lazy, but France knew that his northern neighbour was just as old and content to stay at home in his own lands, left to his own devices and away from the angry, irritating buzz of politicians.

‘It’s not the same!’ England had lamented to him once only a decade ago, too drunk on good wine that was wasted on him for how quickly he drank it, ‘We don’t even really get to give our opinion anymore; we just sit there and then help do all the bloody admin whilst they argue about this that and the other. What’s the point? If they don’t want to listen to our advice or let us make decisions, leave us the fuck out of it.’

France had sighed at him and shook his head; not because he disagreed, but because when England felt like he was being patronised he’d puff up in a ruffled indignation that France found too funny not to risk his person provoking. England had sworn at him, as France knew he would, and the evening had ended up with them sprawled on top of each other at the bottom of France’s vineyards.

Thinking with a bitter happiness that there was only one more day of this tedium to go, France made great strides in removing himself from the premise, ducking and weaving his way through the pedestrian traffic and losing himself in the flow and thrum of his people as they made their way across town.

He hadn’t got very far, only managed to cross a road and turn down a right-hand street, when he noticed that he had acquired a shadow.

Many centuries of existence had given him a sixth sense for this sort of thing- a keen awareness of people who followed for too long, a feeling for eyes watching the back of his head. Even in peacetime his mind was sharp, alert for tiny movements that could indicate a potential threat and hooking his attention to make him zero in on certain behaviours, regardless of whether he wanted this additional mental fatigue or not. Such things were second nature to their kind. He hadn’t survived for this long by relaxing and blindly trusting those around him, after all. Nations could be brutal things, humans just as much, and the complacent among them never remained for long.

But this presence was familiar, a known gait and step that France had learnt to recognise the fastest, out of necessity as much as from repeated encounters.

France smiled to himself and slowed his pace.

England wasn’t trying to hide himself; Lord knew that when the man wanted to, he could simply disappear into a crowd and never been seen again. If England wanted to follow someone without them knowing, they simply wouldn’t know about it. MI6 didn’t have the reputation it did for nothing and England enjoyed, with a smug superiority that France often couldn’t stand, putting whatever talents and skills he’d worked out with them to use when the mood took him; presence undetected, footsteps light and soft, manner and bearing disguised and changed as quickly as if he were shedding clothes.

No, England wasn’t hiding himself or trying to remain unseen, but that didn’t mean that he would appreciate France drawing attention to the fact that he’d noticed him so soon. Let him think France was frequently oblivious, it always made for fun later.

Besides, France didn’t think now was the best time to push him.

He’d noticed that England had grown quieter the last few days, withdrawing more and more into tense silence as the week went on. There was something happening at home, he’d heard through his own ministers, something brewing that kept England working later and later, pushing himself more and more. He hadn’t had the chance to talk to England about it himself, hadn’t had the chance to talk to Arthur at all, but France had seen him grow steadily more stressed and taut, like a tightly wound string.

An impatient man anyway, England grew snappy when stressed, biting and prickly and quick to shout and vent his temper at whatever poor unsuspecting victim fumbled the small task he’d given them. After this though, if nothing changed, England would turn into a muted white noise, all tension wrapped and bound and condensed until you could feel it pulsating from him in palpable waves. All of his energy would go towards surviving what was happening and finishing whatever it was, and he’d go and go and go until either the source of the stress went away, or he’d collapse somewhere- a boneless puppet with cut strings.

The way things had been going, France wouldn’t be surprised if he were nearing the latter of the two and he’d been expecting England to seek him out eventually, for one reason or another.

France stopped at a crossing just as the light for pedestrians turned red, and he felt, rather than saw, England close the distance and approach him from behind. ‘You’ve left earlier than I expected.’ He said to him over his shoulder, keeping his eyes on the cars. ‘I wouldn’t have thought you’d be out for another few hours at least, the way you’ve been working these last couple of days.’

England grunted but said nothing further, shuffling to stand closer to France to avoid an old lady and her grandchildren when they stepped too near to him.

France turned to look at him and, up this close, noticed the slight flush to his cheeks and the paleness to his face, eyes tired and drawn as they regardless the traffic. The day was not a terribly cold one, but England had burrowed himself deep into his coat, collar turned up high to cover his neck and hands tucked into his pockets.

France hmm’d and hooked an arm through England’s, pulling him closer. He didn’t shrug it off. ‘I’m going to the market before I go home.’ France informed him, because he knew that that was what England was planning on doing- follow France home and expect to be fed. (He would be, he always was).

He felt England shrug, a slight upward twitch to his shoulder. ‘That’s fine.’

The lights changed and the crowd around them moved forward, taking France and England with it. They followed the rush along for a while before France tugged them down an alleyway to break onto another street, smaller with cars parked on the pavements and less people around. They stuck to the side streets from then on, winding their way through the back alleys of Paris in a comfortable silence with France leading the way.

The market itself, when they eventually arrived, was a small one, tucked in a small cluster on the cobbles of a square, but the produce was fantastic and it was a local secret. France, as a local to all in his lands, adored it. ‘I was thinking of cassoulet for dinner’ he told England as he slipped his arm free to approach a stall for vegetables and other farm produce, eyeing up the selection of carrots. ‘You like that, yes?’ There was no answer, and France turned around to find him staring vacantly off at the next display. ‘Arthur.’

England blinked, coming back to himself, and turned to him. ‘What? Sorry…’ he frowned, ‘did you ask me something?’

France tutted at him. ‘Yes, but no matter, you weren’t going to get a choice anyway.’

England said nothing but turned away to stare at the table display again, a selection of cheeses France could tell he wasn’t really paying any attention to. France pursed his lips but let him go, purchasing the necessary onions, carrots, and tomatoes that he needed before hurrying England off to the next vendor, handing him the bag of vegetables to carry which he accepted without complaint.

After the butchers for sausages and mutton, France handed England the purchases and taking out his notebook from his pocket, checking that there was nothing else he needed whilst he was here. ‘Do you need anything?’ He asked, turning to England.

England shook his head and shivered, rearranging the bags on his arm. ‘No, thank you.’

France reached to take one from him, freeing up an arm, and drifted his hand down England’s coat to hold England’s own, buried in his pocket. He was displeased at how cold he found it and squeezed it tightly, pressing the pad of his thumb over England’s knuckles. There was a slight squeeze back, the smallest increase in pressure, but there was something, at least, and France let it go.

‘Come on then, before you lose one of my bags somewhere.’

.......

Back at home, France unlocked the door and pushed England inside first, closing the door behind them. ‘Go and take a shower, I’ll start dinner.’

England frowned at him, confused. ‘I don’t need a shower.’ He turned to make his way to the kitchen, bags in hand, but France caught him by the elbow and took them from him before stepping forwards and pressing a kiss to his temple. His skin there was just a touch too warm, but the rest of him felt chilled. ‘Go, you’re cold and it’ll help you relax.’

‘I don’t need to relax.’

France looked at him, unimpressed. ‘You need to relax; you’ve overworked yourself stupid again.’ He nudged him with his elbow. ‘I’ll not start cooking until you do.’

England managed a weak scowl at him but didn’t protest and shrugged off his coat before hanging it by the door. ‘Fine. If it makes you feel better.’

‘It will.’ France slipped his shoes off and rolled his eyes when England nudged them with his foot so that they sat straighter against the wall. ‘Go.’

After England had safely moved away in the direction of the bathroom and France could hear the comforting sound of his shower in use, he walked through his flat to the kitchen and set about getting things ready for dinner, collecting his knives (always the best quality, always sharp) and washing the vegetables before chopping them as needed. Before too long, he heard the hot water turn off and the bathroom door open, the one to his bedroom closing shortly after that. A while later, England emerged in the kitchen, slightly damp and dressed in some of France’s old clothes: baggy, large things that France couldn’t bear to throw away, even though he hardly ever wore them. Kept for times like this, maybe. For either one of them when they were needed.

Evidently, the shower had revived enough of England’s energy to allow him to dig about in the depths France’s wardrobe and drawers; he’d pulled on an old woollen jumper that he’d left behind the last time he’d visited France’s Paris flat, a frumpy looking thing with bobbled thread and stretched sleeves that fell past his hands to graze his fingertips.

‘What state have you left my bedroom in?’ France asked. He uncovered the white beans that he had left soaking the day before and regarded them seriously. They looked ready.

England moved past him to sit at the table, slow and sluggish, before leaning forward to bury his head in his arms, cheek cradled in the crook of his elbow. He sighed and shut his eyes. ‘It’s fine.’

‘I’m sure it is not, I tried to bury that hideous thing at the very bottom so it couldn’t be seen; every time I opened my wardrobe it quite ruined the overall look when I caught sight of it.’

England didn’t answer him. France filled the kettle up with water and flicked it on before grabbing a mug- a bulbous, large bottomed monstrosity that England had got him a few years ago to spite him for something or other. It was incredibly tacky but France found that it was growing on him most annoyingly.

He didn’t need to ask if England wanted tea, this would have been a pointless, silly question, and nor did he ask if England wanted the honey instead of sugar that he put in it. His voice had sounded ever so slightly hoarse, maybe from talking all week for hours on end, maybe not. Either way, England would not ask for anything that hinted or implied that he had some sort of physical weakness and France had learnt, over many frustrating years, that the best way to handle England like this was to simply not say anything and give him what he needed anyway. Asking whether he was feeling well would imply that you had noticed signs he was not, and would, for reasons France still did not even try to understand, make him more stubborn in pretending that there was nothing wrong at all.

Roundabout methods for a roundabout man.

‘I don’t know how you can possibly believe you have the right to insult Wales on his clothes when you own something like that; you’re lucky I didn’t mistake it for rags and throw it away.’

England made a sound that could have been a laugh. ‘This one is Scotland’s, actually.’ (1)

‘Well, all the more reason to be lucky, then. You should be grateful that I didn’t throw you to his ire.’

‘Yes, I do plenty enough of that myself without your assistance.’

England sounded almost fond and France allowed a smile, keeping his head turned away to focus on cubing the mutton. England’s relationship with his brothers has always been much like his own with England: stormy, rough, and quick to change but long lasting and durable, nonetheless. Some bonds do not need frequent, pretty words and kind acts to keep them strong. Sometimes, seeing someone fester at their ugly worst and choosing to keep them your life anyway was a greater sign of affection than anything else. What are sweet words and acts, to ones who live as long as they? Fleeting things, whispers that fade quickly into the long yawn of time. Years do not remember the small niceties; after centuries and millennia, you remembered who stayed, who came back, who didn’t take the shot that would have hurt the most. The ones who did take it, and then helped put you back together.

Sometimes, that was enough.

The kettle clicked itself off and France put the knife down, washing and drying his hands quickly before pouring the water in the mug and leaving the tea to steep. He glanced at the table. England was still hunched over, a curl of bent elbows and downturned eyes, and was wearing a slight frown as he squinted into his forearm. France couldn’t tell whether he was falling asleep or not, but he was very aware that England would not appreciate staying there if he was.

‘Your hair is still wet.’ He told him, pointedly.

England made an unhappy noise.

‘I won’t be looking after you, if you make yourself worse.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘I’m sure you think so.’ France stirred the tea, squeezing the tea bag against the side of the mug with a spoon before removing it. Adding the milk, he stirred it again and took it to the table, setting it down in front of England who looked up, finally. ‘But like I said, I’ll be leaving you here to die of the consequences regardless.’

‘Leave it.’ England’s voice was firm but his eyes were soft; a foolish contradiction.

He sat up and reached out to cup the terrible mug in both hands, letting the warmth bleed into them. He took a sip and, very briefly, his face opened to show small, innocent pleasure. France always loved to catch the fleeting instances England let softer emotions shine through- a bark of laughter when a joke caught him off guard, the times he looked at his younger family members when they were turned the other way, the mornings he sang to himself when he thought no one could hear.

England was often pointy lines and sharp smiles, hard looks and careful study; cold emotions cut into him with intentional strokes and built there as a wall to hide whatever was bubbling underneath. There were few occasions, few people, that could peel him away so completely that nationhood and age would melt away and that for a second, just one second, he could be anyone at all.

France tucked this moment away carefully in his mind, committing it to memory, and clicked on the stove.

.....

Dinner was mostly a one-sided affair. France watched England pick at the food, pushing bits of it around his plate and taking small, tentative bites.

France kept up the conversation the whole time, happy to fill the noise. Regardless of what he said to contrary, England enjoyed the sounds of something happening, of life continuing, just as much as he enjoyed silence and solitude. France had always felt that, when England was in less-than-ideal moods, maybe noise and distraction allowed his mind to finally switch off and tune out, to fade away in the buzz.

Maybe the silence prompted him to think too much.

After they’d finished eating, (or, France had finished eating and it became apparent that England had given up), France permitted England to pack up the leftovers into Tupperware before prodding him to the living room, where he pushed him down on the sofa and ignored his protests about how the dishes needed soaking.

‘Leave it for tonight, they’ll be fine.’

‘But-‘

France sat on one end of the sofa against the armrest and reached out to grab England around the waist, causing him to stop speaking in surprise. France pulled and twisted him close to sit flush against his chest, head coming to rest by France’s collarbone. ‘You are being a very bad guest, my dear, to not listen to the wishes of your host.’

England muttered something about France being a terrible host who didn’t deserve to be listened to in the first place, but stopped struggling to escape and leant against him, heavy. If anything, this quick concession to something France wanted him to do, especially when that something involved leaving a job half finished, was more alarming than comforting, and France reached up to bring a hand to feel his forehead, pushing back his fringe.

‘Look what you’ve done to yourself.’ He chided him, feeling stronger heat than before. Pushing England upright again, France felt under his sofa for the blanket he had thrown there the other day and grabbed it, before straightening back up to lay it across England and pull him down again. One he was settled, France tucked it up around his neck, making sure that he was fully covered, and burrowed his arms underneath to join him.

England rearranged himself slightly to fit more comfortably, slightly on his side with his head turned to rest on a cheek and nudging one of France’s knees to fit better against him, and let out a deep breath through his nose, slipping his eyes shut. Under the blanket, France felt him begin to run a cold hand over one of France’s arms that was resting on his middle, fingers brushing gently over his skin. ‘Thank you for dinner.’

France hmm’d, burying his nose in England’s now dry hair. He could smell his own shampoo that England had stolen but, underneath that, the familiar smell of England himself- an unnameable mix of things that could belong to no one else. ‘How strange to hear gratitude from your lips.’

England stopped stroking his arm to pinch it and France chuckled into his hair. ‘And now abuse of the host; my, how terrible.’ England huffed at him but resumed the less violent ministrations to his arm. France extracted the one currently at liberty to bring up to England’s head and card his fingers through his hair, tugging gently at the roots.

‘So, what has caused all of this?’

‘Caused all of what?’

‘You know full well what I’m talking about.’ The long hours, the bags under his eyes, the compressed strain that radiated from him in the way he held himself.

England was silent for a moment and France wondered, briefly, whether he shouldn’t have asked. But there were few things England was shy to talk about and few instances when talking about something didn’t help him, whether he was consciously aware of it or not.

England opened his eyes. ‘Nothing too disastrous, initially. Fraudulent claims have recently been made against a standing MP, but he’s involved in a lot of charity organisations and political campaigns.’ He shuffled to rest himself higher against France, tucking his forehead to lay more into the hollow of his neck. ‘The other day it all came to light at once and now things are quickly unravelling; everyone’s digging about to see how deep it all goes and how big the fall out is going to be.’

France made a sympathetic noise. ‘The joys of damage control.’

England hmm’d and brought out a hand to rub at his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose. ‘Of course, I know the most about all of them, so I’m being hounded from all sides for information: contact names, dates, expense amounts, sources of income. Who else was involved, what else he’d been involved in, how many sectors are affected…’ He trailed off, weary, and France felt him shake his head. ‘And slap bang in the middle of UN talks about national security.’

‘You do have impeccable timing, as always.’

England tutted and fell silent. France avoided thinking about the specifics of what he’d said too much and instead forced himself to keep quiet. It was all too easy for his ears to prick up at that sort of thing and apply it to himself with cold, analytical detachment. How will this affect my economy? Was this man involved in anything that could influence French interests and policies? Will this fallout affect me? It was all too easy to demand a name from England and begin research into this himself. The urge to sift through French banking and trade agreements, international policies and French government ministers was strong- very strong. The numbers were right there behind his eyes, words caught on the tip of his tongue whilst national agreements bubbled in his chest. But he swallowed them back.

France liked to think of himself as very capable of detaching that part of himself, choosing to think of it as a job he could turn off and on, a choice he could make. He was always France, would always be France first and foremost, regardless of anything else. But also wanted to be Francis, just Francis, sometimes.

England ducked his head down to stifle a sneeze into his elbow.

France blessed him. ‘I cannot let you go to work tomorrow, you know, now that you’ve got to this point.’

England lifted his head up and put it once more against France, who resumed playing with his hair. ‘I’ve got to worse points.’

‘Just because you’re previously done something foolish, does not mean that you need to continue to do so.’ France countered.

‘There is only one day left.’

‘Ah yes, but it is the worst one. Russia is speaking, and you know full well how that’ll go.’

England, presumably thinking of how America would no doubt behave, groaned and twisted to lay more on his front. France rearranged the blanket around him. ‘I can’t leave my Prime Minister there to deal with it all, they need me to be there.’

‘They’re all grown-ups, they can handle themselves. Come on,’ France cajoled, lifting a hand to pick at a particularly large loose thread on Scotland’s missing jumper, upturned against England’s neck, ‘you’ve skipped meetings before. If I remember correctly, in the 1600’s you didn’t turn up to a single one that you were supposed to have with me.’

‘I was at sea.’ England replied, a smile in his voice.

‘You were, and if I remember more correctly, you were requested to return many times.’

England snorted and lifted his head up a little before letting it fall back on France’s chest with a soft thud. ‘That’s different.’

France continued as if he hadn’t spoken. ‘You missed so many meetings with me and my Kings that it was very hard to convince them that it wasn’t an intentional slight against them.’

‘It wasn’t, it was a slight against you.’

‘Well then,’ France bent forwards to kiss his forehead, ‘as you have already demonstrated that you have no qualms about missing meetings with me, that means you are quite capable of missing a meeting that I am hosting.’

England frowned, caught by his own logic. ‘I can’t do that.’

‘Who says so? I, who is the host, might I remind you, is actively encouraging your bad behaviour.’

England lifted his head to better look at him, shifting his weight onto a pointy elbow that was thankfully not pressing into France’s sternum. ‘So, you admit that it’s bad behaviour?’

‘Do you think it’s good behaviour to go to a meeting feverish?’ France countered easily.

‘I am hardly feverish.’

France reached out to press the back of his free hand against England’s too warm cheek and made only an unconvinced noise in response.

England moved his head and brought an arm out from under the blanket to bat France’s away from him. ‘I am hardly bedridden.’ He corrected, sounding somewhat petulant.

‘Is bedridden your standard for when to finally look after yourself?’

England ducked his head again and stifled another sneeze in reply.

‘Arthur.’

‘No, Francis.’

France pursed his lips. ‘Very well. I cannot stop you from making a stupid decision. As host, however, I am duty bound to inform the other attendees of your condition to ensure that they remain healthy.’

England sat up properly and turned to scowl at him, worst nightmare being threatened. People knowing. ‘You wouldn’t.’

France merely raised an eyebrow and gave a sly smile. They looked at each other for a moment, England searching for a bluff. Finding none, he shook his head and lay down again, arms coming to wind around and behind France’s back. ‘I’ll decide in the morning.’ He said, muffled against France’s chest.

France, extremely content that he’d won, tightened his arms around him. ‘Of course.’

....

AN:

I feel like I’m gonna be a busy bee for a while, so have something I wrote a while ago to tide me over whilst I potter about doing real life things.

The first part is a mirror to this second part, so to get the full effect I recommend going to read part one!

You all know I like my FrUK bitter and snarky and full of domestic banter, but I also really adore moments like this when they’re soft and let themselves show how they truly feel about each other. Theirs is a relationship that often needs no words and I love exploring about showing that quiet, consistent side to them, something hidden and tucked away behind a pat on the back or the brush of a hand.

I could go on and on and ON about my love for this pairing and these characters, but for now I shall leave it as this, my sappy ode to them both.

(1) I have the personal headcanon that England has quite an impressive collection of large jumpers that are not actually his. He has one of France’s too, an ugly thing that he bought in the 60’s and thought he threw away. It’s bright yellow.

Thanks for reading!