#I want this posted within the week or I am going to chew my leg off sorry lads

[coldpintglass]

Everytime I go “idk if I can be bothered to keep talk about footie in this fic anymore, let alone make the timelines vaguely accurate to the season” I remember I’ve written just shy of 15k words and that maybe, just maybe, I may have made that decision for myself already

[fangirlshrewt97]

Because I Knew You ...

Alright guys, I hope everyone is excited for CelebRRRation! I am pumped at the flood of new fanworks we are all going to get to indulge in.

Before that though, I had written this small one-shot that I wanted to post before the festivities were underway.

It’s a Siddhara fanfic (Siddha from ‘Acharya’ x Veera Raghava from ‘Aravinda Sametha Veera Raghava’), a ship properly developed by @ssabriel and @teddybat24

Here’s my take on a conversation early on in their acquaintance. Apologies if there are any mistakes, this was edited at 1AM...

///

Veera Raghava sat on the stone porch of his temporary home, knuckles wrapped around the edge of the porch as his legs hung over the ledge. He was absently chewing on his lip as he gazed into the distance, mind full of so many thoughts they all melted into a jumble of white noise.

"I hope you are not trying to find the answers to your life problems from the chickens." Came the soothing voice of his gracious host from behind Raghava. A few muscles he hasn't even realized had tensed loosened in his shoulders as he looked over his shoulder at the figure who came to stand next to him, looking down at him in amusement.

Raghava's lips twitched before he let his head hang between his shoulders. "I don't think they know the answer anyways." "I am not sure they'd know this was their home if there wasn't a fence around here. Not the smartest bunch of birds I've met." Siddha replied seriously. Raghava huffed a laugh.

The two men fell quiet as a breeze blew past them, sending the two simple wind chimes Siddha had hung up twirling and chiming.

“Are you any closer now than two weeks ago when you stumbled into this village? To finding your answers?” Siddha asked after a while. “Or at least, has your mind found its way through the mess?”

Raghava’s jaw tightened as he shook his head. Sighing, Siddha pressed a hand to the nearest column and crouched down, throwing his bad leg over the edge before he properly sat on the ledge. "If both your heart and your mind are muddled Raghava garu, how do you expect to find the answers you seek within yourself?"

Raghava's hands clenched, and his head sunk lower. Siddha shifted so he could learn his back against the column, keeping his bang leg hanging as the other stretched out behind Raghava.

Raghava felt a leg poke his hip, and when he looked at him, Siddha was looking at him with strange expression.

"What are you doing here Chinna? Why did you come to this village?" Siddha asked, so soft. Like he was trying to help a crying child.

Raghava had not felt closer to that description in a long while. His father used to take him on car rides whenever Raghava used to get really upset to calm him down. That would never happen anymore though would it? A familiar burn started at the edge of his eyes. Raghava rubbed at his face. "I told you already. I can’t go home. Not after what I did." Siddha interrupted him. "You told me you were able to bring an end to a feud between two villages. That in one act you were able to guarantee several hundred lives saved and several dozen families from suffering. You said you bought your family peace and relief, and you said you fell in love with a girl who made you realize change is possible if you look at it from a different perspective." Siddha shook his head. "You told me you accomplished a miracle, and rather than staying to reap the fruit you sowed, you ran away to come here to a little village lost in the woods, forfeit to the rest of the world. Hoping to make up for actions which I think you have already done twicefold." "You give me far too much credit Siddha garu." Raghava said. "It may have led to peace in the end, but I have the blood of so many in my hands. I need to atone. I need to not be there. Because if I there, there will always be a few who resent me for what I have done. And others who will resent me for not having reached the peaceful solution earlier. I-" "Atonement is not punishment Raghava. And atonement is not sought in the eyes of the gods, but in the hearts of those we have hurt." Siddha said quietly. "You have your mother and your grandmother waiting for you to come home. You have a girl you-" Raghava hit the porch ledge they were sitting on. Siddha watched him with calm eyes, rubbing at his aching leg. His face was neutral, and Raghava wished for just once to see any of the rage he felt swirling within him reflected in the other’s dark brown eyes. "Aravinda is not - I - It can't," Raghava blew out his breath. "I thought I was in love with her." Siddha raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you?" Raghava shook his head, before nodding and finally settling for hanging his head. "I love Aravinda. I love her for helping me see the world differently. I love her for going to my village and helping them see the damage our feud has cost us. I love her for putting smiles on my family's face.

Mostly love her because she is the first person outside my family who knew exactly who I was. Who saw who I was and thought I could be saved anyways. That I was capable of change. That I was worth changing from the raging beast of vengeance to someone capable of saving and deserving of grace and kindness." "But?" "Aravinda is so good Siddha garu. Kind and wise beyond her years.” Raghava said. “She would just casually drop these sentences and lines of thought that would radically alter the way you saw something.” Just like you.

Raghava had only been in Dharmastalli for 2 weeks, had stumbled across it entirely by accident. He had left in the middle of the night, having written notes to his mother and grandmother that he could not come back to their village after everything that had happened. How he hoped they would forgive him for his cowardice.

He had only told Neelambari, and that was because he needed someone to bring the car back home from the train station. The other man had tried to argue against Raghava’s departure but his mind was made up.

“Fine Raghava garu, leave if you need it. But this is your village. Your land. It has tasted your blood and called for it. It will always be calling for you. So if you are leaving to escape that, I don’t know if there is anywhere you will find it.”

The man had been right, as much as it pained Raghava. He had been running from city to town to village to hamlet and back for nearly a year now. He had travelled across the country, visited temples and monasteries and even a few lectures that were supposed to help one achieve inner peace, only to be left wanting. Until he had ran into a man who suggested he travel to the woods and look for the hidden village among the trees.

Stepping into this town, time had taken on a different meaning. The days seemed to move slow as honey, but he had blinked and already been here 2 weeks. At the house of a man who had found him deep in sleep inside the temple grounds. It had been the first sleep he had had in months that had not been haunted by his demons.

And Siddha garu had been so kind to him. Told him to stay with him, that he lived alone anyways, and that as quiet as the village was, everyone was still weary of strangers. The second night, after Siddha had made him his father’s favorite dish, Raghava had broken. He spilled his story to Siddha, already mentally calculating how he would transverse the woods back after he was inevitably asked to leave.

But instead, the man had never interrupted. And when Raghava was done, had taken the dinner away, and prepared them some simple curd rice and sent him off to sleep. In the morning, he had woken Raghava before dawn, and taken him on a hike that left them at the top of a small hill. As they had sat there watching the sun rise, Siddha had told him of his own past. Of how he knew something about being haunted by old ghosts.

In just a few days, with simple words, and simpler gestures, the man had rewritten something inside Raghava. He may not yet be fully whole, but he knew he had taken the first step, and it was because of Siddha’s kindness.

“So?” Siddha prompted.

“She is a good woman, a good person. She deserves such a partner. I thought I could be that for her. And I know I can make her happy. I could protect her. But I could never be worthy of her." "Why not?" Siddha asked. Raghava tried to will away the tears burning at the edge of his eyes. "Because my hands are still red. And my ears are ringing with the screams of the dead. Because everyone in the village looks at me like I am either Mahadev or Yamaraj. No one sees me anymore, and I can’t- I am not strong enough to shoulder everything by myself." Siddha's gaze seemed to pierce Raghava. "Chinna. Is that what you are hoping for? You think this place will clean your hands? Or keep your ghosts away? That you will find a way to hold up the entire world on your shoulders?" Raghava couldn't bear to look at him. "I just- I want peace Siddha garu. I want a life like yours. I just want to be human and live." Siddha looked away, and Raghava felt he could breathe properly again. "I used to have a peaceful life. I had a girl I was going to marry. I was on my way to spiritual freedom. And then a gun was placed in my arms and I realized there were important fights happening that I could help prevent. I didn't understand what it would cost me till too late. I survived the fight and returned home, only to discover that when I saw my reflection, I couldn't recognize that man anymore. And that's all I've been doing Raghava.

Surviving. Not living. I wake up, I eat, I exercise.  I play with the village kids. I am surviving. If I drop dead tomorrow, what difference would that make? There's no one who could mourn me too deeply.”

I would. Raghava thought. I would mourn you. I have known you for so little time, but you have changed me for good and I would mourn you just as much as I mourn my father. Hearing Siddha’s story, Raghava had felt understood in an intimate way, as even Aravinda would never know. Because she might know all the theory behind the violence, but she had not been on the other side of it. Had not been the one holding the weapon.

///

Siddha was not privy to any of Raghava’s thoughts though. He continued.

“You say you want a life like me? I pray to God you don't get it. You are so young Raghava. There is so much to live for. Besides. Don't you think you are being presumptuous deciding for that young woman whether you two should get married or not?" Siddha felt...broken. But Raghava felt broken too.

Before he had found this young man asleep near one of the outer sanctums, his life had consisted of subsisting and surviving. He had been given this gift of life when so many others like him had not. He wouldn’t dare insult them by wasting it away. But he also could not bring himself to live it fully when he did not understand what it would matter.

Hearing this man- this boy’s story. Siddha’s heart ached beneath the rubble he had buried it in. So young to have known so much loss. So much violence. And unlike Siddha, Raghava had never really had a chance to not get involved. Both left broken by battles chosen for them.

Maybe… maybe if they stayed together they could be something resembling a whole person. Because he knew he had helped Raghava, had seen how the man’s face felt more peaceful with each subsequent night when he went to bed.

And he knew Raghava had helped him because he had made him laugh. Siddha could not remember the last time he had laughed properly. Maybe instead of leaving Raghava alone to his thoughts, Siddha could guide him. Be his Acharya, and teach him the lessons Siddha himself learned too late. Maybe he could help this young boy save himself.

Siddha raised his eyes to meet Raghava’s intense gaze. He forced himself not to flinch.

Raghava spoke. "You know Siddha garu, after my father died, my grandmother told me something. 'Your grandfather picked up a weapon because it was necessary. Your father did the same thing, you could call it hereditary.  If you pick it up, it shows its a habit.'

I may be putting words in Aravinda's mouth but I. I have a darkness inside of me. I can break the cycle, make sure the next generation is not affected. But it's too late to save me. I've already been marked by demons."

Siddha curled his hand on top of Raghava’s, the touch grounding in its firmness. "This is Dharmastali Raghava. If you want to be saved, you'll have to rescue yourself. But first you have to accept you are worth saving."

A tear trailed down Raghava’s cheek. "And how do I know I'm worth saving?" Siddha smiled at him, his other hand going up to wipe the tear away before cradling his face. "You are alive, and there are so many who care for you. Why wouldn't you be worth saving? First though, you have to let yourself feel. And you have to let yourself cry. If you keep bottling up this poison inside you, it'll kill you."

A breeze flowed gently between the pair, rustling the trees as it wove through the branches. The two men sat looking into each other’s eyes. Into each other’s souls.

Siddha dragged himself forward, coming closer to Raghava. “I don’t know how, but I would like to help you find the answers you want. You will have to trust me though. Will you?”

Raghava nodded.

Siddha’s face turned wistful. “Then listen to me Raghava. Even if it is against your nature. Please. For me. Just let yourself grieve. You cannot escape ghosts you are holding onto.”

Raghava’s entire body seemed to tremble,shoulders shaking as his eyes turned downward, curling inward. Siddha dragged his arm to cup an elbow. “Come here.”

He pulled Raghava in, holding him across the shoulders in a position that his body would certainly punish him for. But he would pay the price a thousand times over, because Raghava started to cry. To sob and choke in turns as he held onto Siddha like he was the only thing keeping him together.

For Raghava? He was clutching at the frayed kurta of his friend as he was enveloped in arms that felt like home. He let himself cry all the tears he couldn’t at his father’s funeral. In the recesses of his heart, a spark of affection flickered to life for the man holding him.

///

Tagging (If I missed out on anyone in the taglist, please let me know!):  @rambheem-is-real @budugu @bromance-minus-the-b @hissterical-nyaan @obsessedtoafault @hufhkbgg @yehsahihai @rorapostsbl @fadedscarlets @alikokinav @chaotic-moonlight @rambheemisgoated @rambheemlove @jaganmaya @burningsheepcrown @lovingperfectionwonderland @rosayounan @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @thewinchestergirl1208 @dumdaradumdaradum @ronaldofandom @jjwolfesworld @jrntrtitties​ @kashpaymentsonly @jeonmahi1864 @zackcrazyvalentine @stanleykubricks​  @tulodiscord​ @teddybat24​ @sally-for-sally​ @ssabriel​ @jadebomani​ @stuckyandlarrystuff​ @veteran-fanperson​ @ohfuckoffpls​  @carminavulcana​ @yashuika​ @doodlesofthelastpage​ @filesbeorganized​ @meownique​  @milla984

[arcanadreams]

That time you and your demon boyfriend went viral

hi yes hello obey me fandom!! my name is Gabbi and i have never played a single second of the actual game but i have read enough fanon content for the past year to have this idea swimming around in my head and now i am finally letting this accursed thing out of my brain and putting it in yours

also i’m only doing the brothers because any more than that and i’d have an aneurysm probably. oh and shoutout to @obeythebutler and @beels-burger-babe for inspiring me with their works to feel brave enough to write for this fandom

Lucifer:

You and Lucifer go viral on Asmo’s Devilgram story!

You’re in the kitchen helping Asmo with dinner duty and singing along to one of your playlists of human realm music that you like to show him.

Asmo starts filming your cute little dance while you stir the pot on the stove because you are just adorable!

About ten seconds into him filming, Lucifer appears in the doorway with quite the stern look on his face. You know, the one that comes right before a “MAMMOOOOOON” and strikes fear into the heart of all those with functioning eardrums. That one.

He opens his mouth, presumably to tell y’all to shut the fuck up, but then there’s a lull in the music and the eldest can hear your voice ever so slightly above the song’s vocalist and he freezes.

Man stops in his tracks like someone just smacked him in the face with a midair volleyball.

Asmo can be heard stifling a laugh behind his phone.

Lucifer’s face gets so soft and he almost, almost, loosens his metal-rod-through-the-ass posture before you notice him and give a little wave and ask if you and Asmo were being too loud like the considerate darling you are.

Lucifer clears and his throat and says something like, “No, you aren’t. I was just coming to check on how dinner is coming along,” and leaves, after which Asmo immediately presses the post button.

Screenshots of Lucifer’s heart eyes for you go absolutely viral because every demon on Devilgram goes absolutely feral for seeing the eldest demon brother lose his dignified composure. It becomes a meme template. “Get you someone who looks at you like Lucifer looks at MC” and “me at the delivery demon when he shows up with my spicy bat wings” posts become commonplace. (Asmo thinks the memes are totally worth getting strung up with Mammon for laughing at them.)

Mammon:

Much like Lucifer, you and Mammon end up going viral off Asmo’s Devilgram. (Noticing a pattern here?) 

He pulls a silly prank on your asses and honestly I don’t know how you fell for it. But hey, they say “idiots in love” for a reason, so...

You and Asmo are sitting in the common room of the House of Lamentation just chillin. Well, he’s chillin, you’re on the floor studying for an upcoming exam.

The video starts in the middle of a conversation you and the avatar of lust were having.

“No, Asmo,” you say. “Mammon and I don’t use pet names for each other.” Now that’s just a darn lie, and every demon and crow within ten miles of Mammon and you together knows it.

“Really? I find that very hard to believe, MC.~” 

You sigh in response to Asmo’s teasing. “Okay, he has a lot for me but I’m just not much of a pet name person, y’know?” The rest of the exchange goes like this:

“Oh, I totally get it.” *pause* “Hey MC, what do human world bees make again?”

“Honey.”

Cue a sheepish Mammon sticking his head in the doorway at the bluntness of your tone when you answered Asmo.

“Yeah, babe?” he looks like a puppy left on the side of a highway oh my god hUG HIM-

Asmo turns the camera back to his smug ass face and in the background you can be heard tripping on the damn carpet trying to get up and hug your mans. (”MAMMON GET OVER HERE SO I CAN HUG YOU” “W-WHAT? I THOUGHT YA WERE MAD AT ME?!?!?!?!”)

Leviathan:

Streamer Levi? Streamer Levi.

You guys go viral the first time you make an appearance on one of Levi’s weekly (insert cool Devildom streaming service name here) streams. 

It’s completely unintentional. You had been asking him for weeks to play with him on there, but he’s the avatar of envy after all. He doesn’t like sharing his partner, even if it’s with random strangers who have no real access to you.

However, he has his stream on a Thursday instead of a Friday one week, and you come into his room carrying dinner because 1) You didn’t realize he was streaming and 2) No matter what he was doing, the boy needed to eat. It wasn’t unusual for you to bring him dinner, so you had no idea why he was blushing and stammering even more than usual this time in particular. Boy was speaking in beached whale trying to tell you what was wrong.

Then you notice his screen. Oh! “Hi chat!” You wave, setting Levi’s food down on his desk in front of his keyboard. “M-MC!” He full-on whines, slamming a hand over his mouth afterwards when he remembers his viewers could hear that.

Honestly, they’d meme the fuck out of him if it weren’t for the fact that they are FINALLY SEEING HIS HENRY!!! THE MYSTERIOUS MC!!!

Chat is bombarding you with questions while you make Levi eat dinner. And by make him eat dinner, I mean literally feeding this man forkfuls/spoonfuls while he games because you love how flustered he gets when you do that. 

Does it impact his score? Absolutely. Does he care? Not really when you’re pampering him like that.

You start answering chat’s questions about you while he’s chewing so he can’t tell you to stop LMAO-

You’re a natural on stream. The VOD becomes the most popular on Levi’s account in a matter of hours and soon cute highlights compilations of you and him on that stream start making the rounds on Devildom Twitter.

Satan:

There was buildup to Satan going viral, similar to Levi in a way. 

Satan does have a Devilgram, but it’s basically a white woman’s Instagram with added book reviews for variety. Unless you’re a reader his account is pretty boring: candles, books, fireplaces, and cats.

However, after you two started reading together fairly often he began posting pictures of your legs draped over his while you sat together. They’d always be captioned with vague ass pretentious literary criticism. 

This goes on for months, and he gains a lot of (horny) followers after the leg pics start up. He doesn’t really get why but you both joke that it’s because you have some damn nice legs and I mean neither of you are complaining about the new following.

You two go viral when he finally shows your face, entirely by accident.

The post is a video, which is already strange for him and grabs attention. In it, you’re scoffing and reading an excerpt of a book, mocking its understanding of female anatomy.

“I’m quoting here, Satan: ‘her breasts bouncing around like giant pacmen.’ I’M SORRY?? THAT ISN’T HOW BOOBS WORK SIR. WHY ARE MEN ALLOWED TO WRITE?” 

(fun fact that is a very real quote from a very real book I really read last month pls save me)

Originally the camera is focused on your body, with your head out of frame to protect your privacy, but your righteous anger made Satan laugh. Like, a real laugh. The one that makes you and everyone in earshot wonder if he truly was never an angel cause he sure as hell laughs like one but anyway-

When he threw his head back, his DDD angled up just a tad without him noticing, and your face was in view for like .2 seconds. Screenshots of it are making the rounds on Devilgram almost immediately: FINALLY THE LEGS’ OWNER HAS BEEN FOUND.

Satan apologizes profusely but you honestly find it funny and you two opt to just start taking selfies while reading with both of your faces in them from now on. 

Asmodeus:

I’m gonna be real with you: you and Asmo go viral all the time. Pretty much everything Asmo posts can be considered viral because of his social media following and his status as one of the seven avatars of sin.

However, there are some fairly cute highlights to be pointed out among the times you were both featured in a post that blew up.

Your favorite is probably that time Asmo livestreamed on of you guys’ ‘Nail Nites,’ as you call them.

You’re both on the floor, doing your nails and kicking your feet back and forth while talking to chat. A lot of the questions are about your relationship, and there’s a lot of flirting back and forth between the two of you.

A particular clip of the stream does blow the fuck up on Devilgram, though, when someone screen records it and posts it with a bunch of heart emojis edited over it.

“’What colors do you think best describe each other?’ Ooo, that’s a good one, chat!” Asmo claps his hands together excitedly, making sure to be  careful of his nails.

Pretty much everyone expected you to say pink, but you surprised both your boyfriend and your viewers when, after a pensive few moments, you replied with “Hmm...probably yellow or orange.”

“Can I ask why, darling?” Asmo tilts his head in confusion. I mean, yeah, those colors look good on him, but he doesn’t wear them often so he’s wondering about your thought process. 

“Well, in the human world those colors often represent happiness, optimism, and positivity. You’re always the cheerful presence I need in my life when things get hard, so you have the vibe of those colors.”

Asmo proceeds to burst into tears and hug you, messing up both of your nails and prolonging the stream since you both have to start over. But neither of you particularly care. 

Fun fact: Asmo has the clip that demon made of that portion of the stream saved on his DDD and watches it whenever he feels sad.

Beelzebub:

Beel and you probably go the most viral out of everybody. Like this moment is an entire phenomenon across the Devildom internet. 

It’s a video, or well, multiple videos, taken at the end of a Fangol game that Beel’s team had just won. Everyone is cheering and going crazy, yourself included, and you just really wanted to congratulate your boyfriend.

So, like the rational person you are, you elect to climb up onto the railing of the bleachers and wave to get his attention. 

You were absolutely fine up there, and sat all comfortably motioning Beel over to you. He notices, of course, and jogs over, standing right beneath you and looking up. (Back where you were sitting, Mammon is screeching like a hyena in heat and Belphie, who is laying down, has one eye open to glare at him. The youngest knows Beel would never let you hurt yourself; you’re fine.)

A bunch of assorted demons at the game has started filming while you were sat atop the railing since you were rather noticeable. Therefore, there’s a shit ton of different angles of the adorable events that follow:

You slide off the railing, landing right in Beel’s waiting arms bridal style. You’ve got this brilliant smile on your face as you pull his helmet off. None of the DDDs filming can hear it over the crowd noise, but Beel asks you why you just went through all that trouble and you tell him it’s because you wanted to tell him how proud you are.

Soft boy’s chest puffs up and he smiles this big cheesy smile at you reach up to run a hand through his hair. You feel him practically purr at the contact, and with a laugh you pull him in and plant a big ole smooch on him.

The crowd, at least those of them that can see, scream. Everyone is running high on adrenaline and happy emotions; something that cute causes a ruckus!! When you pull away Beel proceeds to put you on his shoulders and you celebrate with him and the rest of his team.

The videos of you two being adorable go completely viral and there are some threads dedicated to stockpiling every single angle taken of the event. Beel is completely oblivious to the attention but you have a lot of them saved on your DDD.

Belphegor:

If you think Belphegor has any sort of social media presence whatsoever then you are sorely mistaken. (Well okay he actually does run some anonymous troll accounts to meme on Lucifer’s posts but that’s neither here nor there-)

Therefore, naturally, you two go viral off of Asmo’s Devilgram. 

Okay so someone in the obey me tag the other say headcanoned that Belphie will go out of his way to nap in ridiculous places and my brain really took that and RAN WITH IT.

So what happens is that Belphie will fall asleep in the fucking weirdest places. I’m talking on top of the fridge, underneath the dinner table, on top of bookshelves...you name it, he has slept there, no matter the effort it takes to get there in the first place. 

And, ever since you two started dating, you would join him. Sometimes it involved putting yourself at risk of great bodily harm, but the little smile he gave when you he saw you fucking scaling the countertop to reach him made it worth it.

So anyway, since Beel adores the both of you to no end, he takes pictures whenever he sees you two napping together, whether or not it is in a crazy place. He sends these to the family group chat because he thinks they’re adorable.

Over a span of weeks to months, Asmo has built up a stock of images of you and Belphie cuddles up in seemingly impossible places. Once he has about ten or so, he posts a compilation of them to his Devilgram with some cheesy ass caption like “The things we do for love <3″.

They become a meme SO QUICKLY. Like UNBELIEVABLY quickly. 

The picture of you and Belphie sleeping on top of a bookshelf, in particular, is a big hit. Memes abound.

“If my girl doesn’t climb up a bookshelf to cuddle my ass, she don’t love me.” “Get yourself a partner who scales bookshelves just to be with your ass.” Etc etc...Belphie doesn’t give a shit but you laugh at a lot of them so he sees that as a good outcome.

[yourfavoritearchnemesis]

AOT Characters and their nervous habits

a/n: making more hc posts because i find them so much fun. This one’s for all my anxious bitches, i love and adore you guys

TW: mention of unalive

S1-3 Eren

Would definitely get extremely fidgety

His fingers would NOT stop moving if he’s nervous

Taps on every surface he comes across

He’d probably find a rhythm in it like he’s playing a piano, not in a graceful way but in an extremely chaotic way

S4 Eren

You cannot convince me that this man does not give a singular fuck

No stress only pain

And well he knows pretty much exactly how everything will go down so why would he be nervous

Mikasa

Constant pacer

Her nervous energy wouldn’t be as prominent, she’d be good at keeping it under wraps for the most part

But if forced to sit down, she’d start tapping her leg

Like a LOT

And she’s really strong so everyone in the room would hear it

Armin

Armin already has nervous boy energy and I am convinced this man bites his nails

Like to the point where his nail beds get exposed

Multiples instances in the span of a week where his fingers just start bleeding because of how aggressively he chews his nails

Jean

Thumb twiddler.

I’m not taking criticism on this.

Would probably pull out a cigarette (if he had access to any) whenever he feels stressed

Probably cracks his knuckles too

And really loudly too at that

Sasha

Twirls and pulls on her ponytail whenever she feels nervous or stressed

Till the point where her entire head is just a tangled mess

And her hands are full of hair she pulled out

Stress eating is on the list too

Just carrying armloads of snacks to her room and furiously munching on the carbs

Connie

Fidgety like Eren

But would be uncharacteristically quiet

Replies with ‘hm’ and ‘yeah’ when spoken to and doesn’t speak otherwise

And turns to sasha if he does want to talk

Levi

I refuse to believe this man would be vulnerable enough to even show STRESS

The control he has over his emotions,,,

But he does have very subtle tells

Like when he grinds his jaw and clenches his teeth

Or when his grip on objects tightens

Just an extremely tense body

Poor man is in dire need of a full body massage considering all the things he has to deal with

Hange

Rants to anyone within earshot

Cannot stop rambling

Would get hyper alert

Jumping at literally every little sound or movement

Reiner

Considering that this man really held a g^n to his head, it’s clear that he has a lot on his mind

Would likely isolate himself

Sleep>> because he won’t have to deal with the shit he does when awake

Gets really exhausted when anxious

That’s about it! Thinking of doing a part two where i write about their safe space and comfort routine

[levi-my-beloved]

Birds of a Feather

Chapter one

Pairings: Canon!Levi x F!reader

Content warnings: violence, swearing

Word count: 4K

Summary: You were the most notorious criminal in the Underground City. With your organisation of highly skilled professionals, only one man could take you down. He also happened to be Humanity’s Strongest… and your ex.

A/N: asdfghjkl hello there. so, this has been on my brain for a while now, so i started this as just a drabble. what i thought would stay as just a drabble turned into this 22k+ multi chapter fic because i have zero self restraint or self respect. i’m currently finishing chapter 5 as this is being posted, but i want to keep chapters posted around once every two weeks so i can keep up with the workload. maybe once a week if i start feeling spicy. yeah plot twist this is actually the second time i’ve drafted this up. the first time i managed to get everything done and in order and then manages to delete the entire post with my huge disgusting thumbs. Genuinely felt like crying for a good half an hour.

This is also my first Levi fic! yay! lmk if it sucks and idk i’ll cry or something. nah, in all seriousness please send me criticism cuz i really want to improve and critiques are the best way.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

“How down, Raven?”

“Six feet.”

Within the dank confines of a stinking alleyway, two green capes marked with the Military Police insignia crept ever closer to the taller, run-down building upon which you and your little squad of Shadows were now perched. No sunlight illuminated your position. Not that you’d ever seen the sun, or know what it even looked like, but you based your guesses upon the pathetic rays shining through the grates littering the ceiling of the Underground City.

The language you used with your Shadows, coded words translated to:

‘How do you want them to be dealt with?’

‘Death.’

It was something developed by your late guardian and mentor, Viper. See, you all had aliases in The Nest, your criminal organisation. The leader was often referred to as The Raven, however your mentor preferred to use his own nickname, stemming from his own reputation.

Then come the aliases for your Shadows. Prongs was your second, a tall, stern looking man with the black mask of a stag settled across his features.

Then came Wolf, and you swore the first time you’d set eyes on him, you thought a titan had wandered into the city. He was enormous, all 6ft 6ins of him carved in hard muscle. Slicked back silver hair and a beard that to rival a bear. Similar to Prongs, a mask sat upon his face, resembling that of a snarling wolf.

Following him was Verdant, Scales and Diablo. Your power trio. Though their special talents lay in different professions, get these three together and they were borderline unstoppable. A white mask decorated with three broad maple leaves obscured Verdant’s pretty features, Scales sported a bronze half mask etched with a snake-like diamond pattern, whilst Diablo, your trained escort, had opted for something that accentuated her own gorgeous features, a mask of black leather arcing high onto her brow on the left side, whilst the right arced low by her jaw. Though you were already spoken for, you couldn’t deny the beauty of Diablo. She did wonders when prying information between the legs of a moaning MP.

To your left crouched the twins, Una and Leaf. Una was gifted her name by none other than you yourself, after seeing her accuracy with a rifle. A single shot was all it took, from any distance. She wore no mask, something you’d allowed simply because she’d complained about the sight obstruction when lining up a shot. You’d agreed, but only under the condition that she wore a low hood. Her fiercely protective brother Leaf had chewed you out for that, but you knew he meant well. Leaf was good at what he did, excellent, in fact. Which was part of the reason you kept him on as a Shadow. The larger part was that you were damn fond of him. Of all of them, in fact. You loved every single one of your Shadows. Every single damned member of The Nest, you adored. You were their leader, afterall.

A masked helmet of black leather, similar material to Diablo’s, perched snug upon your own features. The hooked beak and obsidian feathers of a raven decorated the necessity, covering your face and hair, though leaving your lower features visible. It was a rite of passage, for you especially, and it signalled the start of your leadership.

“Una, set up. Verdant, Prongs, roundabout. Wolf…” your eyes slid to the giant man on your right, a dark smile slicing across your mouth. “Heel.”

The boulder of a man visibly sagged, clearly disappointed at your orders whilst the others sprang into action. Prongs and Verdant leapt across the rooftops in separate directions whilst Una removed her rifle from her back, parting her heavy cloak to reveal rounds and rounds of bullets strapped across her body. Leaf nestled closer into her side, whilst the other four took a step back. It was obvious you’d all been at this for a very long time, despite the twins not looking a day older than sixteen. In fact, most of your squad was younger than you, save for Wolf and Prongs, who had served their respective roles twice previously.

Sitting back on your heels, you watched your team get to work, the warmth of pride blossoming in your chest. Whilst you knew Prongs and Wolf were already incredibly skilled, the rest had flourished under your leadership. It had been ten years since you’d witnessed MPs put a bullet through your mentor’s skull. Ten long years since you’d taken up leadership and expanded the reaches of The Nest. Honestly, you were pretty proud of yourself, and none more so than when you watched your Shadows do what they do best.

Taking care of unwanted visitors.

Una took aim, resting the butt of her rifle in the crook of her shoulder, staring down the makeshift scope. She would be ready to take care of the two soldiers if either Prongs or Verdant failed to eliminate their targets.

Speaking of which…

That kernel of pride ignited as your (E/C) eyes followed Verdant’s careful, calculating form dropping from the rooftops above the alleyway, in sync with Prong’s own movements. The two assassins swooped with the grace of a stooping hawk, the silver glint of metal caught your eye as they both brandished their blades, before sinking the steel into the necks of the two soldiers. You didn’t need to be closer to see they were both dead. Expert precision. Deadly accuracy. That was why these people were your hand-picked Shadows. And why you were the most formidable gang leader in the Underground City. Your little criminal organisation had expanded into something to rival the killcount of Kenny the Ripper. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought.

Una lowered her weapon, strapping it back in the buckles between her shoulder blades.

“Finished.” she simply stated, turning back to drop down between the shattered tiles and splintered ceiling beams that marked your entrance and exit to this lookout point.

“Rendezvous back at The Nest,” you ordered flatly, before dropping forward and into the alleyway below.

“Anything?” you ask, a brow raised behind your raven mask as you saunter over. Prongs held up two sets of blades from one of the crimson bodies now gathering dirt and grime. Useless to you as they were, but somebody would definitely find an interest in them. Verdant seemed to be struggling with the straps of whatever gear these mosquitoes used to fly around. You’d never been able to figure out how to use it, but that shit made good money when in doubt. However, your usual buyers had disappeared off the face of the city, and you’d noticed a decline in gear sales since then. Gritting your teeth, you shook your head to Verdant, laying a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t. It’s not worth it. The thug trio haven’t been back in years. I doubt they’d return to us now,” you explain softly, prompting the girl to stop her struggles and huff defeatedly. You’re heart ached softly at the thought of him, but you pushed the feeling down.

“Here,” she muttered, handing you another rifle. It seemed to be a newer model, something of an upgrade for Una.

“You did good, Ver. I’m proud of you,” that seemed to immediately lighten the girl’s mood, her eyes shining behind her mask as her mouth widened into a toothy grin.

“Thanks Raven!” she beamed, before scampering off back to The Nest, almost forgetting to take the gun back from your outstretched hand in her haste to make it back and tell everyone she’d received a compliment from you. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence. Rather it only happened once in a blue moon…

A huffed chuckle had your head turning and eyes narrowing to your second in command.

“Can I help you?” you ask, your tone dripping with the poisonous threat of hell if he chose his next words poorly. But Prongs continued to smile ever so slightly, shaking his head.

“Not at all, Raven. It’s just, in the last few years, since you drafted her into the Shadows, she’s really come into her own,” Prongs explained simply, shrugging as she stooped to kick over the now drained corpse, hoping to find anything useful. You bristle ever so slightly. That was something you hated. Compliments. How the fuck were you supposed to respond? You tried to think back to when Viper tried to teach you simple social skills.

“Uh, yeah. She has,” you respond, keeping your features as neutral as you could as you turned away, beginning to trudge back to The Nest.

“I’m serious, Rave. You’ve done incredible things for us. You know Viper would be proud of you. I am too. But…” Prongs trailed off, clearing having something to say but not knowing how to say it.

“Go on. But what?” you pressed, wanting to hear what your second in command had to say.

“Well, don’t you think it’s a bit much? Rave, it’s been years. Eyes have started looking in our direction since those three vanished. You don’t think we should be lying low for a bit? Calming suspicions instead of rousing them?” Prongs offered gently. You knew, deep down, he was right. But some notable gang disappearing hasn’t stopped you before, and it sure as hell wouldn’t stop you now.

“I’ll talk to Scar about it,” even just the mention of your advisor, and wife’s name gave your stomach butterflies. Scarlett Obsidine, your other, and better, half. After the disappearance of a certain dark haired man, Scar was the woman who comforted you, and though you missed him dearly, your heart managed to haphazardly piece itself back together and love all over again.

“Rave, listen—“

“Let’s go,” Prongs closed his mouth, the tone of your voice stating clearly that this matter wasn’t up for discussion. Especially not with him.

⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈

“You know he’s right,” you couldn’t help but sigh when your wife’s soft tones calmed your irritated mood. Soft hands gently kneaded at the tense muscles in your shoulders, forcing them to relax as a tired moan escaped your lips. Leaning back, you peer into her shining sapphire eyes, locks of brunette framing your face as she took the sides of your cheeks in her hands and leaned down, softly pecking your lips with her own. You couldn’t help humming a smile against her mouth, reaching up to deepen the kiss, but she pulled away before you could.

“Scaaaaar…” you pout, looking up at her mischievous smirk as she winked playfully.

“(Y/N)...” Scarlett sighed, swinging her legs over your body to sink into your lap, one thumb now caressing one of the most prominent features on your face. A nasty, jagged scar ran down from the the top of your forehead, over your right eye and finishing just past your jaw bone. One (E/C) iris lighter than the other as a result of the old wound. Soft lips chase away the shadows of your past as Scarlett replaced her thumb with her mouth.

“(Y/N), I don’t want to find you dead in some alleyway because you picked a fight you couldn’t win,” a finger poked your chest as she huffed above you, feigning irritation. You roll your eyes, (E/C) landing on your gear now strung across the table. That raven helmet almost calling to you as you shook your head. Disagreeing with your wife was never a good idea, but you were feeling particularly bold this evening.

“Look. So many jobs have opened up recently. We have so many opportunities to make this life more comfortable. More jobs means more money, more money means we can afford the gate toll and actually see the world above ground. And I can finally buy you an actual ring.”. Technically, you two weren’t married. Who the fuck would be stupid enough to perform marriage ceremonies in the underground City? But, it was easier than saying you were devoted to each other in every single way.

Lightly smacking your chest, Scarlett raised herself from your lap with a hefty sigh. “One of these days (Y/N), you’re going to be captured or killed,” she said quietly, unable to meet your eyes. “And then what the hell will I do…?” Scarlett had now completely turned away from you, shoulders hunched. Running a hand down your face, you pick your sore body up from the chair, reaching her in a matter of strides.

“I can’t give this up, Scar. You know that. You knew that when you chose to be with me. You knew The Nest was always going to be my priority,” you held out your arm, hand hovering over her back, not sure whether to comfort her or let her go. The admission almost had her in tears, you could tell by the way her shoulders shook ever so gently.

“You still miss him don’t you?” It was her vulnerable, defeated tone that alerted you to the slight change of topic.

You fell silent, not really knowing how to respond. Yes, of course you missed him. You loved him more than anything. But those days are over, you knew that. You’d cried enough those following nights after his disappearance.

He was probably dead anyway.

“Of course I do,” you wouldn’t lie to her. That wasn’t fair. But you knew the truth was just as painful for her.

“Will I ever be enough? Will I ever be enough to replace him?” the sound of her voice had your heart in pieces. You loved Scarlett. You really did. But your heart wouldn’t let you love her wholly. Part of yourself will always be dedicated to that grumpy kid you’d fallen for all those years ago.

“Scar… I—”

“I know,” she whispered, stepping forward away from your outstretched grasp. “I know,” you watched as the woman you loved, and who loved you, stepped from your shared quarters, hovering in the doorway. “I’m sorry I asked,” she closed the door as she left, leaving you a frustrated, conflicted mess.

⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈

“Understood, I’ll bring them in right away. Thank you Niles,” The Commander of the MPs stood opposite Erwin, arms folded. An expression of irritation plastered on his sunken features. Erwin simply sighed, realising Niles was wanting to stay for this seemingly impromptu meeting. With a nod of his head, a cadet rushed off to find the two soldiers mentioned in their little conversation. Being Commander of the Scouts often had its perks, like having cadets around to run errands for him.

Niles cleared his throat, taking a seat on the green leather sofa within Erwin’s office. “You sure he’d help us? I mean, it wasn’t too long ago he actually decided killing you was probably a bad idea.”—he raised a thin brow, peering at Erwin with barely concealed suspicion—“I’m pretty sure the Underground City would be the last place he’d want to return.” a knock at the door cut their conversation short, both turning their heads as Erwin called;

“Enter.”

Hange was the first to make her presence known, poking her head in as she opened the door. A smile adorned the slightly dishevelled section commander, her hair sticking up in all directions. Clearly she had been in the middle of something when Erwin requested her presence.

“You asked to see us, Erwin?” her eyes sparkling with curiosity behind her glasses as she stepped through the door.

“Tch, just make it quick, I have shit to do,” the monotone voice of Levi behind her made Erwin pinch the bridge of his nose. How many times has he told him not to talk to him like that?

“Yes, come in and make yourselves comfortable.” Hange immediately took up a seat next to Niles on the sofa, Levi preferring to stand against the now closed door, arms folded. Erwin’s sharp eyes shifted to Niles, an indication for the MP Commander to speak.

“Well, no point in beating around the bush. We’ve received an anonymous tip about some criminal gang that’s been plaguing my soldiers in the Underground City.” Levi visibly stiffened at the mention of his old home. His jaw tensed in anticipation. There would be only one reason he would be called into such a discussion, and the answer was a firm no.

Without his permission, his mind flashed back to a (H/C) girl, her face etched with that ever mischievous smirk. He quelled the thoughts as quickly as he could. He needed his wits with him, and allowing his mind to wander back to what he’d left behind wouldn’t help anything. Besides, the likelihood of you being alive was close to none.

“Section Commander, I don’t suppose you would have heard of the group but Captain Levi here surely would have done. The Nest.” Niles continued, now eyeing Levi to gage his reaction. And for a man whose emotions were usually on a tight leash, this seemed to be what cracked his impenetrable walls. His eyes flew wide open, frantically searching between Niles and Erwin. They couldn’t be serious. The Nest? That was where Farlan and Isobel used to—

Shit, he really needed to keep his thoughts at bay. But what he did know was that The Nest was an impenetrable fortress of criminal activity. Trying to mess with them was suicide.

“Judging by your reaction, I’m going to assume you are familiar with them, Levi,” Erwin’s surprisingly calm tone eased the growing tension in the room. Taking a subtle breath to calm himself, Levi’s eyes narrowed to his commander.

“Yeah. I know of it. Why?” it was a rhetorical question, he already knew why, but he wanted to hear it from Erwin himself. Hange looked incredibly confused, looking between the men in the office, trying to glean something, anything, about what the hell was going on.

“The Nest? Why are they so bad?” she asked, not afraid to show how completely oblivious she is to anything that doesn’t concern titans or science. Erwin gestured to Levi.

“Levi? Care to explain? You probably know more than myself and Niles combined,” though his voice seemed kind, there was a slight edge to his deep tones. One that didn’t go unnoticed by Levi.

A heavy silence filled the room as the Captain wracked his brain for all the information he could think of regarding the organisation. It seemed like hours before he finally spoke.

“Well, you got one thing right. The Nest is a criminal organisation. A nasty one at that. Merciless bastards. Whether you’re a soldier or a citizen, they don’t give a shit. They’ll leave you a broken, bloodied mess in the street. I don’t know much about their leader. Only that he took over from the previous one around ten-ish years ago. Since then, they’ve expanded their shitty little gang and taken over an entire section of the city,” he explained, poison lacing his tone. It wasn’t that he was above the whole gang thing, oh no. It was more the state Farlan would be in before he left to meet whoever the fuck led that group of demons. He’d never seen his friend so anxious. So afraid.

“You never met him? Their leader?” Erwin inquired, lacing his hands together on the desk in front of him. Levi scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“If I had, I would tell you. But I know he’s smart. And not the good kind of smart. The kind of smart where he would always be ten steps ahead of you. He has a small group of trusted criminals surrounding him at all times, called his Shadows. They’ll be the ones to look out for,” Despite his voice sounding bored, Levi’s heart was racing. They couldn’t seriously be thinking of facing The Nest, could they? But something in the expressions of both Niles and Erwin told him he was wrong. Dead wrong.

“They’ve been picking off my soldiers. Always in the same places as well. I was going to leave it, just tell them to avoid certain areas until this tip. Their next job. We know what it is,” Niles interjected, looking down to the floor, his own mind a whirlwind.

“And you want to intercept them. The same way you did with me, right?” Levi finished through gritted teeth. This was absurd. There was no way they could pick them all off. Unless… that wasn’t the goal. Levi’s grey eyes widened slightly, realising what they wanted to do. Yep, this was total suicide. Hange clapped her hands together almost excitedly, as if she was also able to read Erwin’s mind.

“You want to capture him! The leader! Ah! This all makes so much sense now, I was starting to wonder why I was here,” the scientist mused almost to herself, before jumping to her feet. “This is the perfect opportunity to test some of the concept traps I have in mind. Obviously for titans they’d need to be much, MUCH bigger. And of course a few modifications would have to be made so they could adapt to size and body type but oooooooh this is so exciting! I’ll start right away!'' Without allowing anybody to get a word in edgeways, Hange dashed back to her lab to begin her preparations.

“Thank you Erwin, the Military Police will remember this,” Niles said, before he too was rising from his seat. Throwing Levi an unsure glance, he made his way towards the door, only to be shoved into the hallway by Levi, who promptly closed the door behind him.

“Don’t.” he simply said, turning back to Erwin who was peering at him, his expression puzzled. Levi rolled his eyes again, clearly having to clarify what he meant. “Don’t pursue them. It’s suicide,” The Commander’s expression relaxed slightly in understanding.

“We don’t have a choice, Levi. Not only are hundreds of MPs being slaughtered down there, but relationships between the Scouts and the MPs are strenuous at best. It would be in our best interests to—“

“Bullshit.”

Erwin sighed again, having to hold his tongue. Snapping at Levi now for his language would only rile up the man more.

“Levi, we already have a plan in motion. There are soldiers down there now meeting whoever gave us that anonymous tip to further discuss the job The Nest has taken. It’ll be fine, but you’re going to have to trust me.” Erwin’s eyes bore into Levi’s own, the man once again asking his Captain to trust him in a risky call he’s made. Levi’s done it so many times before, why was it so difficult now?

It took yet another pregnant silence before Levi eventually yielded.

“Fine, but don’t be surprised when we’re once again forced to retreat with our tails between our legs.” it was a savage comment, but one that Erwin didn’t take to heart as he watched the raven haired man leave. Yes, this was a risk, but all his risks so far had worked out fairly well. There was no reason why this one would fail. No reason at all.

Levi leant against the door to Erwin’s office, looking down the hallway before letting loose a long breath. Not only would he have to go toe to toe with The Raven, but he also had to face so much of his past he’d wanted to forget. Fuck, this was a terrible idea. Why did Erwin always have to gamble? It was exhausting for everyone else involved.

Folding his arms, the shorter man strode back to his own office, lost in thought the entire way. Would he see you again? Were you even alive? Did you know just how much he had missed you. Just how much he’d wanted to see you again. To hold you again.

Did you know he’d looked for you? How his heart shattered over and over again each time he found no trace of you. He’d never accepted you were gone. Always holding onto that thorn of hope that maybe, just maybe, you’d survived.

Collapsing in his chair behind his desk, Levi unlocked the bottom draw and gently pulled it out. He delicately picked out a small, ebony bird feather you’d crafted into a quill pen. Even though neither of you knew how to write, you knew back then how much he had wanted to learn despite never voicing it directly. All those nights spent copying out basic letters from discarded newspapers and wanted posters. You always had this way of reading his mind.

The smallest fond smile crept across his usually bored face. God he missed you. It had been years and he still missed you like he only lost you yesterday.

[youarejesting]

Sly like a...? Part 9

[Master list] [Sly Master List] Beta: n/a (at the moment) Rating: All Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x FailedHybrid!Reader Genre: Hybrid au, fluff, action, adventure, angst, drama, slice of life. Some marked chapters will contain mature/smut scenes, BUT they will not have plot in those scenes and are 100% skippable without losing your place in the story. Words: 1.5k

Summary: Human’s strive to be better, faster and stronger looking to animal DNA. Thus Hybrids are born. As the rise for designer and Pedigree Hybrids increase, so do the failed attempts. There is one species scientists are unsuccessful in creating, but, folklore says they have been here all along, hiding and blending in with the humans for many millennia. How clever they are.

[First] [Prev] [Next]

Tonight you had decided to ask Hoseok what he wanted to eat for dinner. A quick knock on his always-open door and a peek inside showed him sitting on his bed. With his arms wrapped around his legs and his chin resting on his knees he looked young. He was staring forlornly at the wall, perhaps you thought he was feeling a little homesick. The city was much different from what he was used to. 

“Hoseok, hey?” You sat beside him the scent of fresh pine on his warm-toned skin. Waving your hand within his line of sight in an effort to gain his attention. The deer blinked, giving you a bright smile and a cheery laugh. 

“Sorry, I was lost in thought?” He straightened out his legs. You patted the soft comforter in front of you. 

“Shuffle your butt over here,” you spoke softly. He continued to face the wall and shuffled over, you pulled him to lay back against you, “Are you feeling homesick honey?”

“Yeah, I guess I miss nature. It’s just, it’s so bare” he muttered looking around his room, a desk with a laptop, a bed, and bedside tables he sniffed wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “I miss it.”

“How about we get you some plants as many as you want, to fill the room, if you really want we can tear up the carpet and lay down grass instead,” Hoseok laughed as you described a tall plant by his desk flowers on his bedside tables and hanging pots from the ceiling. “You can call them, that’s why I got you this,”

He nodded taking the phone you held out to him, he dialed a number and placed it to his ear. “Hello?” 

“Hello my sister,” he said, relaxing as he heard the familiar voice. 

“Hobi!” She called through the phone, which seemed to cause a commotion on the other end of the phone as many voices could be heard, “what is it like in the city? Are they treating you nicely? Have you been eating?”

“It’s really nice and everyone is so fun and nice and we eat lots of food together,” he cheered. The family was talking happily and you grinned scratching Hoseok's head happily laughing with him. 

“We are going to decorate his room with plants,” you assured his family that he was being treated well, “oh! tonight is your choice for dinner so what would you like?”

“Unnie, Hobi likes Japchae and meat,” his sister giggled over the phone and you leaned around Hoseok and grinned. 

“What you think Hobi-ah? Sounds good?” You used their nickname teasingly but in hopes, he would feel more at home and at ease around you. 

“Mm, Hobi wants japchae!” He said cutely, making you laugh, you gently pushed his firm and warm body until he was sitting up enough to slip out from behind him. 

“Alright, you keep talking I will round up Jin and Yoongi and we will get to work cooking,” bidding your goodbyes to Hoseok’s family, you headed out to the kitchen. Yoongi was tying up his apron and Jin was playing video games with the youngest of the group. 

You decided against asking Jin as he seemed truly engrossed in playing his video games. Sorting out ingredients and finding a recipe Yoongi and yourself shuffled around the kitchen. There were moments where you reached over where he was cutting vegetables and your shoulders would brushed and just for a second you would hear a small purr. 

Jin lost to Jungkook and pouted, scuffing his slippers as he entered the kitchen, “Ya! The game likes Jungkook better!” He whined, with a grin on your face you pulled him into a hug. Arms wrapping around his tiny waist as you buried your face in the soft sweater he was wearing, it smelt sweet like figs and his ears twitched. 

“I am just happy you tried your best,” you praised him, as you felt the vibrating chittering in his chest almost like a purr but more like a rattle. He nuzzled your hair breathing in your scent. You got him to join in with the cooking. Your instructions interrupted by Taehyung who was complaining about being hungry.

Sliding between the two hybrids to get past, you got some ingredients from the fridge. You sat at the breakfast bar mixing the ingredients in a big metal bowl. Taehyung had been your neighbor for at least five years now and you knew his favorite foods. 

“Try this and tell me how it is?” you held a ball of rice out in a plastic gloved hand and he leaned in eating it. His eyes lighting up. He gave a deep mmh-mm of approval and his tail was smacking Jungkook in the thigh, the young boy looking at the offending appendage and swatted it away.

“Me too, noona” He smiled pointing to his mouth and you popped one of the Jumeokbap onto his tongue. He chewed it happily his cheeks puffed full, a purr filling the room loudly. You turned to Jin offering him a taste, he praised it with a thumbs up.

Carrying the bowl around to Yoongi you smiled, “You want to try one Yoongi?” He didn’t reply but leaned his head towards you eyes on the food mouth opened.

He let you put one in his mouth, and you pressed your ear to Yoongi’s shoulder, his purrs were definitely the quietest out of all the felines in the house, they were ones that vibrated deeply in his chest but didn’t make too much noise unless it was really quiet and you listened intently.

“I smell tuna!” Jimin grinned bounding over his long legs barely touched the ground and he smiled, “Me love, one for me”

You were trying to roll one but he had started rubbing his face on your jaw and neck impatiently, as he purred sweetly, “I am making it as fast as I can,” the words barely came out through your giggles his soft hair tickling your neck, his ears twitching at the sound.

“Here try this one,” he leaned in wrapping his mouth around the rice ball his eyes never leaving yours. “Is it good?”

“Mm very good” he hummed standing behind you his hands wrapped around your waist as you made one for Namjoon. He held out his hand and ate it, nodding before awkwardly shuffling around waiting for the food to finish. Hoseok exited his room smiling brightly, it seemed the conversation with his family had eased his loneliness.

Namjoon at dinner was a little scary all he could see was food and his deep purrs were so loud that it almost sounded like thunder rumbling outside. You brought up the question at dinner and watched them all choke on their food. 

“It is only natural, I am just wondering when and if you know your rut schedule so I can put it on the calendar and if you need any assistance during this time we can look for a suitable companion or items that can relief your needs.”

Jungkook was bright red and Jimin thought honestly, “I don’t need assistance but if when I am not in my room we could cuddle,”

“I also do not require assitance I will just be in my room,” Namjoon said with a small reassuring smile.

“I have never had a rut,” Jungkook said his cheeks never losing their rosey colour, “They gave us a hormone blocker every six months so we would behave, we just got really annoyed”

You nodded they all seemed to agree that they would be fine on their own in their room but you thought you would look into somethings as a fail safe. After your goodnights to each of the boys giving them a sweet kiss on their foreheads, you sat on Jungkook’s bed and told him more of the stories of the fox.

“In Korean legends, the Kumiho is often described as a terrifying and sad creature that strives to become a real human. It is said that a Kumiho can turn into a real human by eating 100 human livers or by marrying a human and living with them for 100 days without their true identity being discovered. There are many more theories on how they came to be but they…”

Once everyone was tucked in, you spent the night in the lounge. Searching the web for eligible companions and items that could assist the seven young men. You hoped they were all settling in nicely. A figure appeared in the hall, ringing his tail in his hands, you gave a soft smile, surprised as the figure came closer.

It wasn’t Jimin as you had first thought, it was Jungkook, you walked him back to bed and he whispered, “I am nervous what if I do something bad during my rut?”

“I know your true nature Jungkook, I know you don’t want to hurt any of the boys or even myself and when the rut passes well then you will be back to the old Koo we know and love.”

“Can you sleep in my room tonight?” He said and seeing your apprehension he added, “Just until I fall asleep?”

“Alright just until you fall asleep.” Not knowing how exhausted you were and how the bed was so soft and enticing. You had fallen asleep almost instantly, letting Jungkook pull you into his arms and nuzzle your shoulder.

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[restlessfandoming]

“ice fishing” (pt. 1) (chilumi fic)

[SPOILERS FOR 1.1 AND CHILDE’S CHARACTER STORIES]

“Childe invites Lumine to the annual Snezhnayan holiday dedicated to the Tsaritsa. There, she meets his entire family, and all the conflict that comes with them.”

this one is longer than my other fics so i’m splitting it up again (sorry! i know it’s annoying to scroll through a suuuuuper long post)

as always, thanks for reading and supporting, it means the world <3

[Fic Masterlist]

“ice fishing” (pt. 1)

“Come with me to Snezhnaya,” Childe said as Lumine started eating the assortment of food he had cooked them for breakfast. 

Lumine raised an eyebrow. “I thought it was a holiday for family?”

“Lyublyu is just a holiday where Snezhnayans gather together to celebrate the Tsaritsa,” he explained. “You have more of a chance of meeting her during this time than any other time of the year.” 

Lumine chewed her food methodically. He isn’t wrong...I am on a quest to meet all the gods… “How long will we be there?” 

“The celebration lasts a week,” he responded. “Or longer, if you keep stirring up trouble wherever you go.” 

She glared at him. “Me? I fix all the trouble you stir up.”

“Right, right, sorry.” He stood up and walked over to her. “I just can’t help myself; you know I love to see you in action.” He kissed the corner of her mouth, and Lumine’s face flushed. 

It had been a few months since the two had confessed their feelings for each other—after a particularly heated sparring match, if Lumine remembered correctly. She still wasn’t 100% used to his romantic gestures, her face still heating up no matter what—which Childe found amusing. 

“So? Will you?” he asked, his voice resonating in her ear. 

She shoved a piece of bread into his mouth. “Yes, I’ll go.” 

“Great!” he said, voice muffled. He took the bread out. “We’ll be staying at my family’s home while we’re there; the little ones have been pestering me about when you’ll visit them.”

Lumine smiled fondly, thinking of the last time she saw Teucer, Tonia, and Anthon. Teucer had come back to Liyue with Tonia and Anthon (not as a stowaway this time), and the children had taken a great liking to Lumine, much to her surprise. 

“I look forward to seeing them again,” she told him. “Who else will be there? Your parents?”

His eyes softened, almost sad. “Yes, they will be there.” 

A sore subject. “Okay, well, when do we leave?” 

“As soon as you’re packed.”

Ah, so quick. But that was Childe, always on the move. 

Soon, Lumine packed quickly, as she never carried much with her anyways, and the pair was on their way to the cold country of Snezhnaya. 

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

Walking up the pathway to Childe’s home, Lumine thought they were going the wrong way: the estate that stood on the end of the stone path was not a house. In fact, it looked closer to a castle than a home, and even had a large fountain situated in the front, along with an elaborately decorated courtyard. Beyond the home, she could see a large lake in the back. 

As they entered the home, Childe called out, “Teucer? Tonia? Anthon? I’m home!” 

Within seconds, there was a loud clattering of footsteps, and the three children appeared at the top of the grand staircase, and quickly scrambled down. They ambushed both Lumine and their brother in hugs and cheers. 

“Lumine! I missed you so much!” Teucer yelled. 

“I never thought you’d come!” Tonia cried. 

“It’s not like she died,” Anthon told them. 

“Lumine, can you tell us more stories about your adventures?” Teucer asked excitedly. Tonia and Anthon nodded as well.

“Of course,” she said, smiling as the three celebrated loudly. 

“Causing quite the ruckus as always, isn’t that right, Ajax?” a voice called from above. They all looked towards the top of the staircase. 

Standing there was another man who looked like Childe, with shorter hair, styled neater, and narrower eyes—like a fox—scheming, plotting. His lips were twisted in a sardonic grin. Next to him, a woman stood—also similar in appearance to the siblings—her lighter brown hair tightly pulled back in a bun; out of all the siblings, her eyes seemed the lightest, the iciest. Her expression was fixed in disapproval.

Lumine looked at Childe. His eyes had narrowed, mouth pulled in a taut line. 

“Lumine, this is Alexei, my elder brother,” he nearly growled. “And Misha, my elder sister.”

Childe had even more siblings all this time? Though, these two didn’t seem nearly as...loving. She glanced nervously around the room; the tension was almost electric. Even the children seemed on edge. Not the best relationship with those two…

“Lumine? What a beautiful name,” Alexei said. His voice was silky—too smooth for comfort. His eyes harbored a deep, unsettling feeling behind them. 

He sauntered down the steps, movements calculated, and Misha followed. The older sister’s hand never left the hilt of her blade that hung on her hip. 

Upon reaching Lumine, Alexei held his hand out. Lumine hesitantly placed her hand into his. 

He pulled her hand to his lips, gently kissing her hand. “A pleasure to meet you.” His eyes were on hers, unblinking. Out of the corner of her eye, Lumine saw Childe tense. 

“Dear sister, acquaint yourself with this companion of Ajax’s,” Alexei said, turning to Misha. 

Misha’s icy eyes flickered to Lumine. “Welcome to our home,” she said, almost forcibly. Her voice was deeper than Lumine expected, but was exceptionally refined and crystal clear—like royalty. The sister bowed. Lumine awkwardly bowed back. 

Misha turned on her heel. “Come, Tonia. We must resume our reading lesson for today.” 

Tonia frowned. “Can’t I stay with big brother and Lumine a little bit more?” 

Alexei’s eye twitched at “big brother.” Upset it’s not him? Lumine wondered. 

Misha held out her hand. “They’ve distracted us long enough. You will see them at dinner.” 

Tonia solemnly waved goodbye, before taking her sister’s hand, and being led back upstairs. Teucer grabbed a hold of Childe’s pants, and Anthon scooted closer to Lumine, as if they were both in search of protection. 

Alexei took note, forcing another unsettling smile. “Well, I shall leave you two to unpack. I hope to learn more about you later, Lumine.” He marched back up the stairs, and disappeared. 

Teucer hugged Childe’s leg tightly. “Can we go outside and play?” 

Anthon eyed the stairs. “Why does big sister always take Tonia away?” 

“She’s just very protective of Tonia,” Childe said, voice lined with pity. “And Teucer, we’ll play later, okay? Lumine and I are very tired from travelling.”

Anthon started heading up the stairs. “C’mon, Teucer. Let’s join Tonia.” 

“But I don’t want to learn!” 

“Tonia’s probably really sad, all alone.” 

Teucer frowned, and nodded, then joined Anthon. The two disappeared upstairs as well. 

Childe let out a heavy sigh next to Lumine. 

“So, Alexei and Misha…,” she began. 

“Aren’t the greatest siblings in the world, if you couldn’t tell,” he said, full of resentment. 

“And Ajax?”

He bit the side of his cheek. “My birth name. Only my family calls me that.” 

Lumine noted how tense Childe’s body was: fists clenched, ready to grip a weapon, any weapon. 

“Let’s duel,” she said. 

“You’re not tired?”

“Are you? I thought you were always ready for a duel?”

He scoffed playfully. “I am.”

Lumine was relieved to see him lighten up. What a stressful family.

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

After an hour long match, Lumine and Childe were both sitting on the snow covered ground, panting, muscles aching. The house loomed behind them.

“You really weren’t holding back,” Childe said between breaths. “Very close to using my Foul Legacy.” 

“Hah.” Lumine let out a long breath. “Even if you did, I still would have beaten you, easy.” 

“You know, the more matches we do, the closer I am to defeating you,” he teased. 

“Yeah, right. Bring it on, pretty boy.”

“Hm? So you think I’m pretty?” 

She started charging up a Palm Vortex. “Hm? What was that?”

Water formed into daggers in Childe’s hands. “Is this Round Two?”

Lumine stood, her sword materializing in her hands. Before she could speak, there was laughter from above. She looked up. 

Alexei was watching them from the balcony, a curious glint in his eyes. “Fighting already? That relationship really didn’t last long.” 

The water dissipated from Childe’s hands as he glared at his brother. 

Lumine’s sword disappeared as well. “It was just a practice match, Alexei.” She said his name with more venom than anticipated. She couldn’t help it. The man was unsettling, and he upset not only Childe, but Teucer, Tonia, and Anthon as well. 

He raised a brow at his name. “Interesting.” He shook it off with another laugh. “Well, brother, you’d better come inside and start cooking if we’re to eat by dinnertime. The children all requested your food for tonight.” 

Childe nodded curtly at Alexei, then turned to Lumine. “I’ll be back soon.” He went to her, giving her a swift kiss on the cheek. “Don’t go anywhere with Alexei,” he whispered. Then, he went back to the house. 

Lumine looked up at the oldest brother, who was looking down at her with amusement. 

“Oh, Lumine,” he said. “Would you be a dear and grab our father down at the lake? He likes to spend his time out there.”

As long as it isn’t with you, she thought. “On it,” she told him. As she walked towards the lake, she felt Alexei’s eyes on her the entire time. Creep.

Approaching the lake, she spotted a figure sitting in the middle of the frozen lake. Is that Childe’s father? 

He looked around 50, wrinkles lining his eyes like he had spent most of his life smiling. However, there were now dark bags under his eyes; he hadn’t slept well for a while. His blue eyes seemed dull, and his ginger-brown hair—gray strands scattered about���was slicked out of his face. Kind. But tired.

When she reached him, he didn’t pay attention to her. He kept his eyes on his fishing rod that descended into a hole in the ice in front of him. They stood in silence for a minute, Lumine not even certain that he knew she existed. 

“Hello,” she said quietly, hoping not to scare him. 

He finally turned to her, and gave her a smile in greeting. “Hello there.” 

“I was told to come get you for dinner, sir.” 

He hummed cheerfully. “Are you a new housekeeper?” He turned back to the fishing rod. “I keep telling Alexei and Misha we don’t need any servants…,” he murmured. 

“Ah, I’m not a housekeeper. I know your son, Childe—Ajax, I mean.”

His eyes widened and he turned back to her excitedly. “Ajax is back?” 

She nodded, a small smile forming on her lips. 

His eyes seemed to see her, really see her for the first time. “Ajax brought you here?”

“Yes, for Lyublyu.” 

He laughed heartily. “Well, look at you! You must be...Lumine,” he said knowingly. “Many of my children have spoken very highly of you.”

“I’m flattered.” She held out her hand. 

He shook it gratefully. “I am Feliks. You can call me whatever you’d like however.” He pointed to the fishing rod. “Would you like to ice fish with me?” 

Lumine recalled Childe briefly mentioning how he had learned to ice fish when he was younger. So his father taught him… “Yes, I’d love to.” She took a seat next to him. 

Feliks told her all about ice fishing: the intricacies, the lessons, the patience. She listened attentively, warmed by his voice, and excited by the happy twinkle in his eyes. 

She and Aether never had parents. Since their birth into the world, it had just been the two of them. 

But something about Feliks definitely feels like...a father.

The two then sat in silence, waiting patiently for the fish to bite. Soon, they heard the clicking of heels on the ice. 

“Father. Lumine,” Misha’s voice rang out. “Dinner is ready.” Then just as quickly as she appeared, she disappeared back to the house. 

Feliks let out a quiet sigh, pulling the fishing rod from the ice, and began walking away. 

Lumine caught up to him. “Having so many children must be difficult.” 

“Ah, yes why so many children?” He smiled softly. “My wife and I lived very lonely childhoods. I think we both wanted a large family. Though, with so many children, a few are bound to be at odds.” He looked longingly at the house, at the large, lonely windows casting amber lights into the dusk. “I think we knew that. But when you love someone so much, having another existence to love like them—that’s just as precious as them? It absolutely fills your heart.” 

And six kids later… Her heart felt warmed, just listening to him talking about children, not that she had ever thought of having any. But she could tell, he did love them—and his wife—deeply. 

“Your wife, I’ve yet to meet her,” Lumine said. 

His smile turned sad. “You will. Galina is very kind.” 

As they drew nearer, they could hear the excited chatter of the children. “And you?” Feliks asked. “Do you plan on having any children?” 

“I don’t know.” I’ve been a bit preoccupied. The future isn’t really something to think of. 

“Hmmm. Well, I wouldn’t mind not having grandchildren. Tonia, Teucer, and Anthon are already a handful.” He chuckled. “Perhaps in the future though.” 

Lumine’s face flushed. He can’t seriously think….Childe and I?!

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

[part 2]

[hotwings0203]

A/N: Hi guys! This is my first oneshot thingy (or any piece) that I’m posting here, it’s kind of dark but I think that’s the type of fic I enjoy writing. Let me know what you all think, and any suggestions or feedback is much appreciated since this is the first time I’m using Tumblr😆

Warnings: implication of non-con, manipulation, yandere themes, kidnapping

Pairing: Yandere Dabi x f reader

Smoke curled into your hiding place, invading your senses. You could hear him smashing other various household items around the house, attempting to startle you and make a sound, effectively revealing your hiding place

Which wasn’t a very clever one, mind you.

If you only had a couple more seconds, maybe, just maybe you could’ve dove into the closet and actually hidden with some blankets and clothes covering you instead of your current chosen position, which was under the creaky bed.

You cursed yourself for even starting something so stupid, and getting a rise out of him in the first place when you knew, you knew he hated it when you picked fights over the smallest of things. All he wanted you to do was make him some breakfast, now was that so much to ask for? Did you have to put rat poison in his oatmeal at 10 am in the morning?

You didn’t think you could handle playing this happy-go-lucky fake domestic scene any further; you wanted to go home. You wanted to see your family again for Thanksgiving, you wanted to meet up with your friends and get your nails done and coo over pretty boys, and most of all you wanted to go outside and gaze up at the clear blue sky and just watch the fall colors swirl around you in a halo of leaves.

Dabi let’s you go outside twice every month if you’re being good for him, and if you really please him he’ll let you touch the grass without that stupid shock collar that adorns your neck like an ornament with with him by your side, of course. Don’t think he’ll fully trust you after that stunt you pulled last week when you tried chewing the restraints off your wrists.

He had to salute your effort though, you really might’ve gotten away if he hadn’t surrounded you by his flames before you could touch the door.

Kind of like now, actually. While you’re trembling and cramped unceremoniously under the bed, he’s finished scanning the living room and kitchen for any sign of you.

Shit

That means there’s only two places left: the bathroom and his room, where you are.

Your legs are starting to cramp up and you’re wondering how long you can manage to stay still while this psycho is hounding you out.

“If you quit acting like a pussy and come out within 30 seconds, I’ll make sure to leave your face intact. Can’t say the same about the rest of you though, babe, I’m not feeling very generous or inclined to spare you too much after choking down rat poison.” He all but snarls as you can see from underneath the bed his elbows and jaw curl with smoke, blue flames licking at his shins.

The smell of rotting flesh feels like an ominous foreshadowing of your fate if you don’t think of a way out of this, fast.

You’re pulled from your musing as Dabi slams the bathroom closet door shut, and flings the shower curtain aside violently, indicating no more places are left for him to check for you except his room.

You’re out of time.

Picking up the soap dispenser on the sink counter, he weighs it in his hand, testing it’s material. You’re peeking out from underneath the mattress, unsure of what he’s doing.

You don’t need to keep wondering after he suddenly hurls the glass down on the floor, the dispenser shattering on the floor near the bed mere inches away from where your face was.

You let out a small shriek at the explosion, and immediately still and clamp your hand over your mouth with wide eyes.

But the damage has already been done, and Dabi knows this as he lets out a dark chuckle and saunters towards the bed, turning around and plopping down on the plushy material, his boots right in front of your face.

“We both already know where this is going, little mouse. I caught you, but I’ll be nice and give you one more chance to come to me willingly.”

He leans back on his elbows and tilts his head up to the chafing ceiling. He knows you’ll come, you always eventually do, that’s why he loves you, his sweet little girl who always does what she’s told.

What he doesn’t expect, however, is you making one last break for it, clambering out from the opposite side of where you both are situated and bolting to the door.

He whips his head around at the sound of you desperately fumbling with the lock on the door, when did he lock it? God this is taking too long he’s gonna catch you he’s gonna-

But you’re already out of the door and flying down the hallway as you hear him leaping off the bed and scrambling after you, the house completely silent save for the deafening sounds of both of your own objectives pounding away at the floor in the same direction.

“You fucking bitch, I grant you one last chance to come clean to me and this is the thanks I get? You’re dead little mouse.” You hear him howl behind you, and it scares you at how close he sounds.

But now you see it, you see your freedom at the entrance just an arms length away and you’re touching the door and-

The room is suddenly enveloped by blue fire, the door handle becoming so hot under your touch that you wail as you let go and cradle your bubbling flesh, tears blurring your vision as you whirl around to locate your assailant and captor.

Dabi stands in the middle of the living room, ethereal cobalt lighting up the sides of his face and illuminating the staples that stretch and threaten to rip from the shit-eating grin he sports while looking at your defenseless demeanor.

“I told you to listen while I was playing nice, right? This is what happens to little mice who want to turn into rats so bad. Is that why you wanted to feed me rat poison, huh, baby? You were warning me to get rid of what you might turn out to be, hmm?” He pouts at you, the corners of his mouth twitching when you sob in terror

“D-dabi please,” you bawl, “please let me leave. I w- wanna go h-home.” Your chest heaves at the last word, the pain in your hand paling in comparison to the ache in your chest.

“An-and I w-want you on your kn-knees worshipping the ground I walk on and making good use of that bitchy little mouth instead of whining and sniveling.” He mocked and cooed cruelly, reveling at your helplessness.

You could do nothing but wail louder as he started slowly walking towards you, his eyes narrowed, complemented with dark glint in his pupils while his ever-lasting hellish quirk enunciated his heavy steps.

Dabi finally reached you, and you pathetically pressed yourself into the wall and turned your face as he lifted his hand and stroked your cheek in faux sympathy. His bottom lip was stuck out in a fake pout, mimicking your state of panic.

“You’re not scared of me, right baby? It’s just a game, right? I mean after all I do for you-bathe, feed, and dress you- you only feel love for me, right?”

He was toying with you, in a similar fashion a cat plays with its prey before it pounces.

When you hesitated for a moment too long, his hand by your face heated up its dying embers, warning you to give him what he wanted to hear.

You whimpered and tried to evade his hand, only resulting in his gripping the back of your head and yanking back on your hair roughly so you were forced to look up and meet his amused, dark gaze.

“Ah-ah my pretty bitch. You don’t get to move away from me after all the stunts you pulled today. I’ve had enough of your bullshit so don’t test me any more, now I asked you a question: you love me right?”

At your wits end, you maintained eye contact with him as you shakily tried to nod your head, the movement being difficult to do as he had such a death-grip on your locks.

But he wasn’t satisfied by your pathetic attempt at agreeing, it seemed like he wanted to make your life hell even further and draw this out as long as he could because he clicked his tongue and shook your head like a rag doll in his hands, hair flying across your face and giving you whiplash.

“Use that sharp tongue you got on you before I melt your fucking teeth. You might be a grade-A moron, and a pathetic one at that but I know damn well you’re not mute.” He leans in further, his nose grazing yours as you almost went cross eyed trying to keep him in vision.

“Y-yes Dabi, I love you.”

His silence seemed to scream unimpressed, so you hurried to salvage the situation as best as you could so it wouldn’t escalate the knee-deep shit you were already in.

“And I’m...sorry I was being such a brat today, I just missed everyone I used to be close with. But you were right, I should be more grateful after everything you do for me. It’s not fair that I don’t treat you with the same, uh, affection that you show me. A-and I’m sorry I put... rat poison in your food.” You whispered this last part, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes.

He snorted, not entirely convinced at your sincerity in the apology but it was enough for him to loosen his grip on your head and take a step back from your personal space.

You sink down the wall to your knees, curling up slightly and taking shaky breaths as you attempt to calm down. The room is still engulfed in flames, but thanks to Dabi’s foresight and extensive planning, most of the furniture of fire-proof (god knows how he got it like that, it’s not like he was the son of the number one hero or anything to accumulate such wealth) so the damage was limited save for your mental state and injured hand.

Dabi crouches down in front of you, an odd smirk on his face as you peer up at him in caution.

“You know, I didn’t say I forgive you princess, or that you’re excused for your little tantrum.”

He cocks his head at you and lifts your chin up towards him with a scarred finger. You blanch at the implication of this ordeal not being over from your excruciating apology, and his disturbing Cheshire-cat grin stretches so wide over his face, you wonder distantly if his stitches are going to pop loose any second.

“Please, I’m sorry. I’ll do anything, just please don’t...please don’t burn me.” You whisper in defeat.

“Anything, you say? But why? Isn’t it more fun if I brand my name into your back? Oh wait! Maybe I’ll burn you so bad you’ll look like me! Then we’ll really be a matching couple, you’d like that wouldn’t you? I mean if you love me as much as you claim you’ll let me, right?”

He’s trapped you again. If you deny, he’ll ruthlessly berate you for lying to his face and who knows what he’ll do just for the sick, sadistic satisfaction he’ll get from making you stumble over your own lie.

If you comply, however, you’ll look like burnt bacon, just like this fucker.

“I’ll do anything to make you forgive me.” You quietly settle for.

He studies you for a moment, and the uncomfortably silence he grants you makes you shift in your place.

Dabi finally stands to his full height and stretches his arms back with a content groan.

“If that’s the case, then don’t say I didn’t let you choose how you wanted to make it up to me.”

You glance up when you hear the sound of a zipper being undone, and you mouth gapes at his innuendo. You can’t seem to look away as he frees himself from his black boxers, the sound of his belt and pants rustling as they hit the floor.

“Now then, what was that you said about redemption? I think this is a great way to put that mouth to good use, little mouse.”

[c-is-writing]

extinguished

pairing: kara danvers x gn!reader

genre: 100% angst

word count: 1577

warnings: none

a/n: aahhh writing a full angst was a bit hard for me bc i still need to practice writing angst but i hope that this at least makes your heart ache >:DD

original request

12 unread messages, 4 voicemails, 2 cold dinners, and 1 missed date. The dimly lit kitchen feels suffocating as the last candle finally burns out. You watch as the wisps of smoke float through the air before fading away. You know, candles are such interesting and versatile objects. They can be used to express a variety of emotions like calm or somberness. These hard wax pillars can soften overtime once a flame is ignited within them, creating a warm glow that surrounds them. However, like all good things, the flame slowly burns out until there’s nothing left to burn, leaving a thin trail of smoke in its wake. 

Distracted by your thoughts as you watch the grey swirls fill the air, you don’t notice the arrival of a certain blonde. Before you can lose yourself once again in your thoughts, a voice calls out for you. Turning around, you see your girlfriend standing in front of the balcony door in her Supergirl regalia. You let out a sigh as you turn away from her, choosing to focus on the plate in front of you. The clicking of boots on the hardwood floor grow louder and louder before coming to a stop. A soft hand is gently placed on yours, resting on the dining table. Kara kneels beside you as she pulls your hand towards her, bringing your attention lower to face her. Running a hand through her wind-blown hair, she lets out a heavy sigh. You already know what’s about to happen as you hear the three words you’re beginning to really despise.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Kara says, voice filled with guilt.

Shaking your head, you give her a small smile. “Please, stop saying that Kara.”

Taken aback by your response, she’s left at a complete loss for words. You brush a strand of hair out of her face as you continue.

“I know that you’re sorry, Kara, but I’m beginning to think that you’re sorry for a lot more than missing another dinner date.”

“What? What do you mean?”

There’s no way she could be that clueless, right? The painful smile quickly drops from your face as you lock eyes with the crouching woman. 

Annoyance seeps into your voice as you speak. “You’re kidding me, right? Do not play oblivious with me, Kara.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/N. What do you mean by, ‘I’m sorry for a lot more than missing dinner’?”

“No, I don’t believe you” --you scoff-- “There’s no absolute way in hell you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Kara drops your hand and instantly stands up, getting into a defensive stance. 

“We can’t talk about this properly if you won’t tell me what the problem is. So, spit it out, Y/N. What is the problem with me? What do you know about me that I don’t know?”

You quickly stand up, pushing the chair back, and point an accusing finger at her. Frustrated with the whole ordeal, you begin to rant.

“What’s the problem? What’s the problem?! Kara, I can see it in your eyes. Those bright blue eyes that used to look at me in adoration no longer do that. That shine in your eyes whenever I cooked your favorite meals dulled. What happened to us, Kara? Am I not enough for you anymore? You barely text me that you’re okay whenever you finish Supergirl duties. You’ve missed countless dates, always brushing me off in favor of doing other things and going to other places. Hell, you don’t even cuddle with me in bed anymore! There’s no lingering touches, sleepy kisses, nothing.”

At this point, you want to continue your speech but angry sobs rack your body, interrupting your train of thought. The dark apartment goes silent as Kara watches as you wipe at your burning tears. In a soft voice, Kara tries to reason with you.

“Y/N. I-” -- she sighs -- “I don’t know where to begin except for the fact that I’m sorry about hurting you like this. I guess I’ve just been really tired lately. With everything going on with the DEO and CatCo, I don’t really have the energy to do these things anymore and a lot of the time, these just slip my mind. I-”

Regaining your breath and partial composure, you explode at her.

“KARA DANVERS, DO NOT START THAT WITH ME.” Clenching your fists, you take a breath and continue. “I think I understand it now. You’ve fallen out of love with me, right? That flame we had was finally extinguished because you grew tired of me. Tell me, who did you fall in love with this time?”

You watch as Kara’s eyes are flooded with guilt and she gulps. In a quiet and nearly broken voice, Kara gives you the answer you were looking for.

“Lena.”

Drawing your lips into a thin smile, you nod as tears begin to fill your vision once more. You chew on your lip as everything finally begins to fall into place.

---

You were at Alex’s apartment, having a game night with the Superfriends. The group decided to play Charades and wanted to split up the couples so you were paired up with Alex as Kara was paired with Lena. While everyone was laughing at Winn trying to act out his word, you sat off to the side of the couch, sipping your drink. Across the room, you could see how Kara was practically glowing as she talked with Lena. Those ocean blue eyes you fell in love with were falling in love with someone else and you watched as your relationship with Kara began to slowly unravel. With every touch, laugh, and smile the pair shared, you could feel your heart sinking and crack bit by bit.

A hand gently shook your shoulder, pulling you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see Alex’s eyes filled with concern as she asks if you’re okay. Brushing her off, you nod your head and get ready for your turn, missing the way Kara ignored you, not sparing a second thought as she continued her conversation with Lena.

The next time you realized that your girlfriend was falling out of love with you and instead with someone in your friend group was when you were reading a couple of random blog posts about Supergirl. Something that caught your eye was a comment under an article about L-Corp.

> Isn’t that the place that Supergirl keeps going to?

> OMG yeah! i’ve heard about a lot of supergirl sightings in that area

> A friend of mine goes to a park nearby there and says that he sees a streak of blue and red fly by at the same time nearly every day.

> I wonder why she keeps going there. Don’t Supers and Luthors have a bad history with each other?

> yeah, i think they do but it seems like supergirl and lena luthor like each other.

You scoffed at that last comment. Yeah, more like they love each other. Pausing, you realized that Kara is falling in love with Lena. The two of them have been spending a lot more time together, arguably Kara has spent more time with her than you within the past few weeks. Your heart clenched at the thought and you shook your head, wanting to dispel the idea out of your head. There’s no way. Kara would at least tell me. Right? Tears began to well up in your eyes as you let out a few pitiful sobs. Fuck.

---

“Leave. I don’t want to see you in this apartment ever again.”

“Y/N, I-”

“Don’t say it,” you practically beg her, “please.

She whispers in a guilt-ridden voice, “Okay.”

Continuing, you stare at the ground as you say, “I want all of your things out of here by morning. I’m going to Nia’s apartment tonight.”

At this point, the two of you are standing in the kitchen at an arm's length, trying to hide your tears from each other. You’re the first to turn away as you head to your bedroom to pack an overnight bag. Quickly sending a text to Nia, you pack what you need to stay the night and you check your phone, seeing a text message giving you the okay to stay over. A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you pocket the phone and brush away stray tears. 

When you leave the bedroom, Kara hasn’t moved an inch, just staring aimlessly into the ground. At the sound of your door closing, she looks up to see you walking past her with a bag hung on your shoulder. Placing your hand on the door handle, you’re about to open the door when you pause and look over your shoulder. The blonde looks so defeated in her place; head hung low, shoulders slumped over, eyes red and lined with tears. The two of you make eye contact as you give her a small smile and step out of the apartment, leaving the superhero alone with her thoughts and guilt.

Just like a candle, your relationship that once burned bright dwindled down until it was on its last legs. The argument snuffed the flame, once and for all, leaving the both of you to fade into the smoke that was the irreparable relationship that could no longer be rekindled. Relationships that were broken had the chance at being repaired but those that burned out could no longer be reignited.

taglist (all): @teenwonder @procrastinatingsapphictrash  @owloftheshadows

taglist (kara danvers): @karazorxel

[maadorii]

taste my disaster— i. matsukawa x gn! reader

max.note’s: i really thought about not posting this and just keeping this in my dungeon to never see the light of day but i really like this concept so here it is, mattsun romcom hehe 

synopsis: where a supposed “one time fling” during iwaizumi’s bachelor trip turns into something more. somehow.

warnings/tags: strangers to lovers, fluff, implied sexual content, suggestive themes, slow-burnish, mutual pining, recreational drug-use, food mention, pancakes

w.count— 3.8k

if there was one thing matsukawa was expecting to do on this trip, it was to get drunk while speeding down the strip at 2am from a night of gambling from the most expensive casinos las vegas had to offer. right? it was iwaizumi’s 2-week bachelor trip that oikawa had so meticulously planned mostly because he didn’t want to throw some measly little party like everyone else. he was getting married, why wouldn’t they all go out for him this one time.

but, if there was one thing matsukawa was not expecting to do on this trip, was somehow end up black out drunk; the only thing he could remember was hanamaki losing a game of black jack at caesar’s palace–– and wake up in a unfamiliar bed, naked, with a unfamiliar warm body next to him still sound asleep. who was just as naked as he was. 

it took him a minute, but when everything clicked together in his brain, matsukawa let out the deepest sigh he could muster. sinking deeper into the plush bed below him, dragging his hands across his face, pulling at the skin. his head was pounding, unbearably so, the luminous rays of the sun that filter through the curtain drapes making it worse. he looked over to you, your back turned towards him as you slept away peacefully. matsukawa’s indolent eyes leisurely scanned the expanse of your back, how it bloomed with hickeys and teeth marks. your muffled snores were the only thing that filled the stark silence of the room. 

matsukawa didn’t know what to fear more, the fact that he had sex with a random stranger last night and is now laying in their bed or iwaizumi’s wrath when he eventually gets back to the hotel. 

iwaizumi’s wrath, he chooses. definitely. 

peering over the bedside to the floor, he sees the clothes he had on yesterday strew haphazardly along with your own clothes. in the mess he finds his phone just barley alive and about several hundred text messages and missed phone calls. most of them were from oikawa, unsurprisingly. a lot of “where are you’s” and “please call us” and even a “did you die on us bro?” but that’s when he noticed the time. 

[12:42 pm]

“aw fuck.” matsukawa cursed as he flopped back on the bed, his arm lifting up to cover his eyes in annoyance. as he contemplated his options on potentially surviving this fuck up of his, you shifted next to him which caught his attention. he watched as your body turned to face him and how your eyes slowly fluttered open, the way your pupils dilated to welcome the grating sunlight. 

and when your eyes met his, you stared for a moment before closing your eyes again and snuggled back into your pillow. “––mornin’ random person in my bed...” 

matsukawa looked back confusingly, opening his mouth to say something back, when your eyes shot back wide open and jolted out the bed, dragging the duvet with you. 

“random person in my bed?! how–– how did get into my room,” you paused as matsukawa’s naked and lean body was on full display for you to gaze upon, inevitably resulting in your face burning up like a sauna. 

“and why are you naked, why am i naked?!” you screeched, wrapping your duvet around yourself, completely drowning yourself in the material. and then it sunk in for you. 

“oh no, don’t tell me––”

“that we fucked? yes.” if any more possible, you could feel your face grew hotter at his... extremely blunt statement at your predicament. you watched as matsukawa reached over the bed and slipped his legs through his boxers. at least he had the decency to cover up you thought to yourself as he shifted his way towards you on the other side of the bed. 

“look... i- i’m just as surprised and quite frankly, embarrassed about this too. i’m really sorry about all this. i’ll... just grab my stuff and i’ll be out of your hair in no time.” you didn’t get the chance to say anything as he backed away to start pulling on the clothes he had on the night before, watching him silently as he did so. you couldn’t help but feel bad as he took his time to dress himself. your gaze lingered on his eyes, and how they droop in remorse. 

just as he was pulling on his right sock, you stepped closer into his field of vision. “can i... at least know your name?” you take note of how the dark umber in his eyes seemed to glow for a split second, his gaze shifting over to you. still draped in that damn duvet like a fucking burrito. 

“it’s issei, issei matsukawa.” 

you nodded your head, jutting your chin out confidently. 

“well then, issei matsukawa. i, (y/n) (l/n), kindly ask you to join me for breakfast–– wait time is it... brunch? lunch? ahhh, fuck it. just come get something to eat with me. please?”

––

matsukawa watched as you shoved half of your omelette in your mouth, your eyes gleaming as you chewed happily, savoring the flavor.

the table was loaded with an assortment of all kinds of food, mostly breakfast food. from sweet honeyed pastries to smoky, charred sausages. in front of him was a stack of warm and fluffy buttery pancakes, dripping in warm gooey syrup. matsukawa could feel his mouth water just simply staring at it, his fingers twitching to inch towards the fork next to the plate, dying to have a bite. 

you noticed his tentative actions towards the plate in front of him, the way his teeth pulled on his bottom lip in slight anticipation. swallowing the mouthful of food, you nudge him with foot, catching his attention. 

“eat, i know you’re hungry. you don’t need my permission to eat,” you chastised, returning to your omelette. 

matsukawa didn’t waste any time digging into his food, practically shoving the whole pancake in mouth. his nostrils flared out as he chewed, moaning at the flavor bursting on his tongue. you chuckled as he quickly shoveled another one in his mouth. 

“woah, slow down there tiger. good aren’t they?”

he nodded frantically and continued to shovel bite after bite. and you smiled at that. it still was kinda crazy how you’re out eating with someone that you... just had sex with last night. a one night stand? can you even call it that? was this even a normal thing? you weren’t entirely sure considering you couldn’t remember a single damn thing from last night.

when you both finished most of the food, tummies full and satisfied, a slightly uncomfortable silence fell between you two. 

“so...” you started, tapping your fingers against the mug as you looked anywhere but the man in front of you. 

“so...” matsukawa copied your actions. you sunk lower in your chair, blowing the hair that landed on your face. why was this so hard? oh wait...

“since we...we, well you know where i’m going with this––”

“since we had sex? fucked?” his eyebrow twitched upward.

“well shit, you didn’t have to put it so... bluntly, issei.” you remarked.

“shit, i was just simply stating what we’re both thinking, (y/n).” the corner of his lips tugged with mirth at your annoyed face, his eyes crinkling at the corner.

you couldn’t help your own lips tug the same as his, your body shaking as laughter struck between the two of you. as you both laughed, the waiter brought over the check, clearing some plates out the way while doing so. matsukawa was about to reached out to grab the bill before you snatched it out of his reach. he was about to argue but you pulled out your card, already handing it to the waiter as he returned. 

––

“oh, so you’re from new york?” you asked as you both weaved through the heavily dense sidewalks of the vegas strip, an assortment of performers and tourist, big and small accompanied you. nothing new you haven't seen before. all while dying in the blistering heat that did nothing but sit on your backs. 

“well technically, i was born in a small town in japan, but moved when my parents decided to immigrate here when i was about, ahhh i don’t know 4 or 5 years old.” matsukawa explained, wiping the sweat beaded at his brows. “what about you?”

“me? i was born and raised here in good ole' nevada. but i didn’t move here to vegas until high school.” you cheered unenthusiastically with just as unenthusiastic jazz hands. "it's nothing really special, vegas i mean."

“really? well, i guess that makes sense. you did take me a hole in the wall restaurant with damn near the best pancakes on the fucking earth. ” you chortled at his statement, hanging off matsukawa’s arm as you laughed loudly, catching the attention of a few bystanders.

“oh god, you’re still on about those damn pancakes?”

“yes i am! those beautiful, golden brown cakes of pure buttery fluffiness that just basically melt in your mouth at the first bite?” he rambled, basically foaming at the mouth. conversation was light between the two of you, it felt natural. not forced. matsukawa didn’t make things awkward. it felt so carefree talking to him, almost as if you’re floating. 

but it was when you came to, that you realized that you made it to the hotel that matsukawa was supposed to be staying at. a part of you grew glum at the thought of having to separate from the man next to you. within the last few hours that you spent with matsukawa, you came to the conclusion that you really, really liked him. what wasn’t there to like about him? he had a great sense of humor, he was charming and gentlemen like. and, that fact he was incredibly attractive was just the cherry on top of the sundae. 

you didn’t want to leave, in fact, you can bathe in the attention he showered you in. 

“welp, i guess it’s time to die.” he said dryly as he turned to you, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. 

“good luck with that. i hope your friend doesn't kill you, but based on the description of him you gave, it seems likely.”

“yes, highly.” 

a silence fell over the both of you again for the second time that day, avoiding each other's lingering gazes. why was this shit still hard?

“can- can i have your number?” he blurted out randomly, voicing your thoughts out loud for the both of you. staring into his umber eyes, you broke contact first to pull out your phone from your back pocket to hand it to him.

“i’ll be honored.”

––

surprisingly, matsukawa wasn’t murdered by iwaizumi when he walked into the hotel room ten minutes later. though, he did get a hard scolding from not only iwaizumi but oikawa as well while hanamaki snickered in the background.

“i feel like a five year old who's been caught with sticky fingers.” matsukawa slumped, crossing his arms over his broad chest. 

“as you should! what the hell were you thinking last night? getting drunk and having a one night stand with someone else, jesus mattsun, and i thought maki was bad.” oikawa grumbled frowning, but it didn’t last long when hanamaki threw a dirty sock at the back of his head. matsukawa rolled his eyes at the two childish adults began fighting with each other, wrapping each other up in headlocks of the sorts.

he sighed again, lifting himself up from the so called “interrogation” chair as hanamaki called it to head towards the shower. “hey, mattsun.” 

perking up at the nickname, he turned around to see iwaizumi standing behind him with an unreadable face. earlier when he walked in, his face definitely was the face of anger and rightfully so. but now...

“just be careful next time, okay?”

and matsukawa knew exactly what he meant.

“yea, okay.”

––

later that evening, after contemplating whether or not you should send a “hi!” or a simple “hey,” you finally texted matsukawa. and almost immediately you got a text back from him. you bounced up and down in your room, feeling like an excited teenager who just talked to their crush for the first time all over again. is this what it was? a crush? maybe, and you should be mad at yourself for feeling like this, but you didn’t have the heart to do so. 

and over the span of the next week, the messages never seemed to end. on some nights, he would call you instead of texting you to tell you about his day. what attractions he went to see that day, what places he went to eat at that day and how much money he lost playing poker at the casinos. and he would ask you about your day, about your day at work. did you eat today, are you taking care of yourself? 

your heart melted at the sweet messages he would send you throughout the day, reminding you to care of yourself and heck, maybe even be a little selfish if need be. some of your coworkers caught onto your starstruck gaze when you looked at your phone and few even tried to ask why but you’ll brush them off. oikawa, hanamaki and iwaizumi even noticed matsukawa’s sudden interest in his phone recently. and even when they're all laughing at oikawa losing again for the third time at russian roulette, matsukawa wasn’t entirely in the moment.

 because he’s waiting for a text from you. 

they noticed the way his eyes glowed when his phone ping, indicating that you texted him back finally. the way his ears perked like dog. although they were suspicious, they didn’t say anything, knowing he’ll come around eventually. 

–

it was the friday before they all had to fly back to new york, the cool desert night air filled his lungs as matsukawa perched himself on the balcony of the hotel room. the gleaming lights of the vegas strip below illuminated the curves of his face in a soft glow of blue, magenta and gold. 

suddenly, his phone started ringing in his back pocket. he smiled when he saw it was your contact lightening the screen of his phone. answering, he brought the phone towards his ear, “well hello my dear (y/n). nice of you to call me on this fine evening we’re having here.” 

he hears you snort on the other end over the slight static of the phone. there was muffle shuffling before you replied, “nothing much my dear issei, just sitting here bored as hell so i thought, why not give you a call.”

matsukawa felt his heart skip a beat at your statement, trying to contain the smile that was tugging on his lips. 

“haha, how thoughtful of you...” and then it was quiet again, save for the occasional horns of cars stuck in traffic.

“hey, uh… issei?” you interrupted.

“yeah?” 

“can i… can i see you tonight?” 

––

matsukawa stood outside the place you asked him to meet at 30 minutes ago on the phone, which just so happen to be a very crowded and loud nightclub not far from the hotel he was staying at. he could hear the bass of the music thump against inside of his bones, the rhythm sending chills up his spine. he watched as people filed into the building like a swarm of files. 

it was another 5 minutes until he heard your voice call out to him from behind. and when he turned around to say hi back, his jaw dropped to the floor at the sight of you. but he quickly contained himself as you approached him, trying to blow away the rouge that tinted his cheeks in the slightest. 

“hey, ready to go inside?” you questioned, reaching out to hold his hand, pulling him slightly towards the entrance of the club. and he nodded dumbly behind you, cursing himself inside his head for acting like a hormonal teenage boy in front of you. he couldn’t help it, especially when you’re holding his hand. you can blame it on being touch-starved.

when finally inside, bulbs of black light were hung overhead on the ceiling, making everything brighter, making the sea of club goers nothing more than blobs of fuchsia, tangerine, and aqua. you and matsukawa wormed your way through the swarm of adults, bodies sweaty, sticky and hot, shaking and bobbing their heads to the music that blasted in the overhead speakers. finding two available seats at the bar, you both situated yourselves onto the stools overlooking the crowd. 

“this is an interesting place you’ve brought me here, i honestly wasn’t expecting it.” you hear matsukawa say next to you, turning his attention to you. 

“yeah, this is one of the few clubs here in vegas that i actually go to from time to time. plus security is pretty tight here, so hopefully you won’t end up fucking someone else.” you gave him a thumbs up, a dorky smile making its way onto your lips. matsukawa’s shoulders shook as he laughed, turning towards the bartender, ordering two old fashioned’s. 

“an old fashioned? wow, i didn’t take you for a rye whiskey type of guy.” you teased, reaching out to grab your drinks when the bartender placed them in front of you. matsukawa shrugged nonchalantly, taking a sip of his own drink. 

“well, i’m always full of surprises, they say.” and when he looked at you from the corner of his eye, you could’ve sworn a you felt a chill borrow itself into your bones from the predatory gaze he sent your way. that, mixed with the half-buttoned up shirt with the gold chain he wore exposing so much skin–– much to your own liking; the way his inky curls were slicked back away from face. you swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling incredibly hot under the neon lights. 

this was simply a recipe for absolute disaster, but you didn’t mind at all. 

an hour later, after several drinks later, you found yourself being dragged onto the dance floor by a slightly tipsy matsukawa leading the way. reaching the center, the lights dimmed down even lower, the neon lights appear more luminescent in the room. The nerves you felt moments ago seemed to vanish as your body began moving to the beat of music along with matsukawa, feeling lighter than the air around you. matsukawa started doing these stupid dance moves to the song currently playing, getting a rise out of you. and at some point, the mini circle formed around the two of you as you danced the night away together, encouraged by the cheers and whistles of the crowd. 

matsukawa didn’t want this to end.

the way you’ll cling to him whether it was from laughing too hard or when you danced together to another song.

then this one song started crooning over the speakers, catching his attention. 

almost instantly, it was like time stopped around him, bleeding into a colorful flurry of fireworks. illuminating your face even more so with explosions of lavender and magenta, hints of quinacridone gold and phthalo blue.

his body relaxed seemingly watching you jump around without a care in the world. the beaming smile that radiated on your face that could argue the sun. your eyes glittering with such mirth. he hasn’t even known you for very long, but was really going to admit to himself that he… that he was possibly in love with you?

no, no, no, it’s too early to say something as... drastic as something like that. but was it?

he’s never felt like this with anyone before at all, but with you, he felt at ease. like he could be himself without having to worry about what’ll think. but there was no denying that he felt something for you.

“issei? hey, are you okay?” it was you who snapped out of his daze. 

“oh yea, i’m fine… say, how about we get out of here?”

––

you drove yourselves just outside the strip to the open desert, gazing up the phosphorescence of stars in the pitch black sky on the hood of your car. no words were shared between the two of you as you let the alcohol sink into your systems. And it was like that for a while, until you interrupted that silence. 

“you have to go back to new york on monday, right?”

matsukawa didn’t answer right away, letting your question digest in his mind, word by word. he wanted to say no, he really did, but y’all both knew that’ll be a lie. 

“yes…” 

at his answer, you sat up from your lying position on the hood, matsukawa following right behind you. your eyebrows were scrunched in distress, and he was about to say something before you beat him to the punch line. 

“issei, i… i know this whole thing is really out of the ordinary for both of us, but i can’t get these feelings off my chest. i’ve only known you for what–– two weeks? but it feels like i’ve known you my entire life and i don’t know what to do— a-and you’re leaving and i don’t want you to leave and—” you rambled on before matsukawa leaned forward to press his lips against yours, ultimately shutting you up. you didn’t waste any time returning the kiss. the same fireworks from before were going off like crazy around you like it was new year’s or the fourth of july. the moment was too surreal for any of you to believe it was real. 

and when he pulled just enough where your lips barely met, he the corner his lips twitched upwards, his hand coming around to cup the supple roundness of your cheek, his thumb gently grazing the warm skin, “it’s okay, (y/n). i feel the same way.” 

“then, promise me you’ll come back.”

“for you and those pancakes? a thousand times over.”

smiling, your lips dove to meet his again, this time harder, steamier. matsukawa slowly pulled himself on top of you, trapping you as you lie back down on the hood of the car, intensifying the kiss. he moved his lips away from yours to latched them onto your cheek, leaving a trail of glowing kisses, trailing down to your jaw as a small mewl slipping past your teeth. you weaved your fingers through the ringlets of curls of his hair, gently tugging on the strands. 

matsukawa’s hands felt up and down your torso underneath your shirt, feeling the expanse of skin beneath the pad of his finger tips, leaving burning trails in its foot. 

“issei, p-please…”

“with pleasure.”

turns out he wasn’t wrong, he was certainly always full of surprises. 

copyright © 2021 maadorii. all rights reserved. 

[tearsofsyrup]

peckish

— It’s Seungkwan’s birthday and you want to surprise him with breakfast in bed. But when he wakes up, there’s a different kind of hunger rumbling in his stomach.

pairing. boo seungkwan / female reader

genre. established relationship au; non-idol au; fluff; smut

word count. 2k

warnings. brief sexually explicit content; domestic af; blonde kwan-ah, now with glasses; poorly proof-read

notes. (belated) happy birthday, uri boo. i wasn’t sure whether to post this or not but here we are and here you go! feedback is ardently appreciated!

-

It isn’t often that you find yourself awake before Seungkwan. But your subconscious must have known that today is special. Not that it makes awakening any easier.

Eyes barely open and limbs stirring sluggishly beneath the duvet, you glance towards your boyfriend. His hair is nothing short of messy against the pillow, recently dyed a warm blonde that you won’t admit exactly how much you enjoy on him. A natural pout puckers his lips, emphasized by how his one cheek is squished beneath him. His skin shines with a golden tan under the shy rays of this morning’s sun. Slow, relaxed breaths leave his nose and you can faintly feel them graze your face. It makes you smile.

But you need to get up before those eyelids of his creak open.

You've always wondered why your body feels ten times heavier when getting out of bed, as if an invisible force is begging you to stay put. And it’s a tempting notion to give in to, despite it only being forged by your own mind. However, the unfortunate nature of breakfast is that it doesn’t cook itself. Not even on birthdays.

So, you rise, the heel of your hand rubbing one eye while the other tries to stay open, balance off as you stand. You don’t bother looking for a pair of pants, aware that you only have so much time before the peace of an asleep Seungkwan will run out, and wander around the bed on wobbly legs and only half your vision with nothing but a pajama shirt and panties on.

You make sure not to stumble into the closed door of Vernon’s room as you pass it, rounding the corner into the kitchen with a long yawn. Eyes blinking tightly and frequently, they scan the poverty of your fridge, not containing much other than an almost empty carton of milk, leftover pizza from a week ago and two bottles of ketchup because Vernon accidentally bought an extra one. And the eggs and bacon you sneaked in yesterday.

As you begin preparing Seungkwan’s meal, you try not to make too much of a racket, in an effort to keep your boyfriend unknowing, even when you accidentally hit your head against the cupboard door that you have a bad habit of leaving open. But it seems to be either that or the fact that you might have jumped with a vocal yelp when the frying pan unexpectedly spit hot oil on your hand, that coaxes consciousness into Seungkwan before breakfast is ready. Because you think you can hear faint footsteps through the hissing heat that your poking with a spatula.

Your lips are already pursed when Seungkwan clears his throat of some post-slumber grogginess.

“Shit, go back to sleep!” You haven’t even turned to look his way before you speak, tone chalky from lack of use and eyes focused on positioning the bacon in a needlessly neat order.

Seungkwan snorts. “That didn’t sound like ‘good morning, honey’ to me.” His voice is even more gritty than yours, something he also seems to notice as he begins clearing his throat again.

You scoff, throwing him a scornful look past your shoulder, secretly delighted by the sight of glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. “Like you violently shaking me out of bed while trying to shove vitamins down my throat every day is a form of ‘good morning, honey’.”

Coincidentally though not surprisingly, he is reaching for his bottle of vitamins as you finish speaking. “It’s not my fault you can’t wake up on your own,” he protests, filling a cup with water. “And vitamins are important.”

You try not to roll your eyes too far back into your head when you resume monitoring the bacon. “Anyway, I was gonna make you breakfast in bed, so go back to sleep.”

Seungkwan gulping down his vitamins sounds from behind you and when you turn your head, there is curiosity in the look he gives you. Your focus shifts back ahead as he comes closer. He sniffs from beside you, eyeing the pink strips of meat.

“You’re not burning down my kitchen, are you?” That earns him a side-eyed glare.

“Hey, three people own this kitchen, actually.”

“Ha! When have you ever seen Vernon make anything except cup noodles?”

The lower of your lips juts outward in a pout, unable to argue with that point. But you struggle to maintain the expression wholeheartedly when Seungkwan smiles, brown eyes dripping with amusement before you. You look away, the corners of your mouth itching.

“Breakfast in bed?” he recalls.

“Mhm.”

“What for?”

You huff a laugh. “Shut up. Go sleep.”

Seungkwan giggles, moving away toward the electric kettle. “Eggs and bacon in bed? Could get grease stains on the sheets.”

“Then stop eating like a child or put a bib on.”

Seungkwan makes a sound of offence and his eyes are wide and accusatory behind the large lenses of his glasses when you twist your neck to shoot him a victorious grin. He scoffs, shaking his head before filling the kettle with water.

“No need to roast me. I’m not a piece of that bacon, you know...”

“Pfft.” Your eyes roll again, the bacon in question slowly turning crisp.

Seungkwan meets you with a low-lidded glance. “You shouldn’t be so mean. Especially on my-”

“No, shhh! Not yet, go back to sleep!”

Seungkwan’s laugh is hearty then, while you keep yourself from being infected by it. He turns the kettle on, placing two mugs on the counter next to it before turning and leaning back with loosely crossed arms.

You squint at the pursed smirk he gives you. “You’re not making coffee, are you?”

His eyebrows jump upward. “I am... Like every other morning.”

You exaggerate the deflation of your posture, pout thrice as dramatic as earlier. “But, you can’t go back to sleep if you’re all caffeinated...”

“Well, I’m not gonna fall back asleep either way, baby,” he says with a grin, the curve of his cheekbones rising higher and accentuating the charming arch of his smiling eyes.

With a heavy drop of your head, you huff. Your plan has officially failed. Staring at the darkening bacon feels demeaning, one hand landing on your forehead where it banged against the cupboard door.

A sudden weight settles atop your right shoulder, making you jump a little before realizing it’s Seungkwan’s chin. The warmth of his chest engulfs your back through the fabric of both of your shirts and makes you realize that you are cold with your bare legs out. He peers over you, watching the sizzling bacon below.

“Sorry, baby. For ruining your plan.”

Your free shoulder shrugs. “It’s fine. Isn’t it the thought that counts?”

He chuckles softly, warm in your ear. “Right.”

Seungkwan’s heat leaves you as he goes to handle the water that’s boiled and you try not to shiver, beginning to lift the now crisp strips of bacon onto a paper towel. While Seungkwan prepares coffee, you reach for the eggs, needing both hands to crack them safely into the frying pan.

You watch Seungkwan with a secret glance, quietly admiring the sharp corner of his jawline and the soft slope of his nose. When he catches you, you admire the smile that grows across his lips too.

No more words are exchanged in the comfortable silence between you, until Seungkwan has placed two cups of coffee on the counter next to the stove and his chin is back in your shoulder. Instinctively, you lean into his warm body and decide not to comment on what you can feel is left of his morning wood against your backside. Seungkwan’s palms run softly over your bare hips and you shudder at the contrasting temperature.

“Why aren’t you wearing any pants, babe? It’s cold,” he murmurs, voice gentler next to your ear.

“I was too tired to care.” You poke slightly at the sunny-side-ups.

“Want me to go get you some clean ones?”

A small smile creeps its way up the corners of your mouth. “What, you don’t like me half-naked?”

Seungkwan laughs. “I like it a little too much, I think.”

With a quirked brow, you wonder if it isn’t a case of morning wood after all.

“I see,” you start. “In that case, I think I’m happy just like this.”

Seungkwan snickers quietly, arms lifting to curve around your waist and hold you tighter against him. Bulge poking at your lower back, he hums a soft melody you cannot place as he watches you move the cooked eggs onto a clean plate and push the pan away from the stove. In an attempt to escape Seungkwan’s embrace, you wiggle a bit and receive a long sigh that brushes across the skin of your neck in return. But he doesn’t relent, simple moving the both of you over with a steadfast grip around you, making you laugh.

“Hey, breakfast in kitchen is ready,” you giggle.

“So, feed me,” he says, grin apparent through his tone.

For a third time, your eyes roll upward, yet you oblige and cut a piece of bacon and eggs for your boyfriend before lifting it into his mouth. He chews it next to your ear, humming with content.

“Wow,” you smirk, arms resting over Seungkwan’s where they hug your stomach. “It’s like live ASMR.”

Seungkwan chuckles. “Thank you, baby. It tastes great.” A sweet kiss is puckered against your cheek.

You twist your neck to meet his face, snuggling into him like he’s a blanket covering you. His eyes meet yours through his glasses and he smiles, wide and pretty, thumbs rubbing against the soft fabric of your shirt. You lean forward, placing your mouth over his and moving it slowly. He reciprocates easily, adding more pressure and quickly turning the kiss more fervent. You feel him hardening behind you, causing a familiar heat to begin aching within the confines of your underwear.

It is first when his fingers sneak up to begin unbuttoning your pajama shirt that you detach your lips from his, lids heavy over your eyes as you watch him. He dives downward and starts pecking and licking at your neck instead.

“Kwannie,” you say with a hushed tone, hand gripping Seungkwan’s wrist weakly. “What if Vernon wakes up?”

Seungkwan huffs into your skin, breath warm. “He won’t,” comes his mumble. “Unless you bang about, like earlier.”

You unsuccessfully suppress a disdainful grunt. “Fuck, I did wake you up when I walked into that damn cupboard door again...”

Your boyfriend grins against you before lifting his head, too amused with the pout you sport. “I’m just teasing, baby. I was already awake by then.”

His giggles are met with disappointed glare. “Bully...”

A quick peck tickles your nose. “Is your head okay, though?”

You shrug. “I’ll live.”

And that is when you notice that your shirt is completely unbuttoned, Seungkwan’s gentle touch pulling it open before placing warm palms over your breasts. You sigh, thighs subconsciously tightening to try and relieve the increasing heat between them.

“Since your first plan didn’t work,” Seungkwan whispers against the shell of your ear and you lean into his erection behind you, “how about we do something else for my-...” Your eyebrows jump at his pause. “Wait, can I say it yet?”

A happy guffaw escapes you, meeting his round eyes with a delighted grin. Gripping his wrist, you guide his slender fingers beneath the cotton of your panties and watch his pupils dilate in real time, his eyelashes dancing with the ends of fluffy, blonde hair. Your hips tense when his skin meets your heat, sensitive with a need for attention.

“Yes, Kwannie,” you finally reply, biting your lip through your wide smile. “Happy birthday.”

...

Later, when the taste of Seungkwan’s release is coating your throat and your knees are aching, he asks if you want to take your vitamins yet. Your incredulous laugh is so loud that you are sure it makes even Vernon wake up.

[sunlightdances]

Time Has Brought Your Heart to Me (Soulmate!AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, feat. platonic Steve, platonic Tony and a brief cameo by Agents of SHIELD. Rating/warnings: T (for language), mentions of PTSD and anxiety, a little angst. Many of our characters being adorably dense. Words: 14,418 (literally why am I like this) Summary: Bucky Barnes’ soul mark appeared on his left arm when he was seventeen years old. His injury and HYDRA took it from him, but does the mark have to physically exist for the connection to take hold? Author’s Note: Post-CA:CW. Assume Tony helped Steve and Bucky get out of Siberia and finds out the truth about his parents from Steve. AU after that. This idea literally came to me when I was shampooing my hair and I wrote a good chunk of it immediately afterwards. This idea has been done before, but I hope you like my take on it! Disclaimer: I don’t own Bucky Barnes, or canon elements from the movies, tv shows, or comics. All of that belongs to Marvel. Please don’t repost my work on any other sites without my permission. Reblogs are encouraged!

When Bucky Barnes is seventeen years old, a charcoal black swirl of ivy and leaves appears on his left arm.

He spent a lot of time panicking and then trying to find his soulmate, feeling disappointed almost every time he left a date with flushed cheeks and a charming smile only to remember that they didn’t have a mark, or had one that didn’t match his.

He forgot about it as soon as the war was on - bigger things to worry about then.

He enlisted because he wanted to make something of himself, but there was always the possibility burning in his mind that he might meet them. No matter what persona he tries to put on, he’s a romantic at heart. The singing under his breath, buying flowers for pretty girls, romance paperbacks in his back pocket type.

There’s no semblance of romance in war.

His days are never ending - walking, walking, brief bursts of combat. Shouting orders at his platoon, all of them trying to pretend they were feeling more courageous than they were. Still, he spares a few thoughts for his soulmate. When he takes a bullet to his shoulder in France, he hopes they can’t feel it.

He thought that was the worst it could get. He was wrong.

When he’s half conscious in the snow after falling from the train, praying for someone, anyone, to come looking for him, he feels guilt, and regret, and then doesn’t feel anything at all.

It happens in flashes - a medical exam table, a German accent, a shock to his entire body when all he does is repeat his name, rank, and serial number.

In a brief moment of lucidity, he lifts his left hand. He tries to see the mark, one more time, tries to orient himself with the one thing that’s remained constant for almost the last ten years of his life.

It isn’t there.

His arm, gone. The leafy scrawl with it.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, to no one, to someone, and then it all goes black.

.

The sun streaming in the floor-to-ceiling windows of the guest room you’ve been assigned is the first thing that wakes you, followed shortly by a disembodied voice calling your name. You have a brief moment of panic, sitting upright in bed, until you remember where you are.

Avengers Tower.

“Miss?” The kind voice inquires again.

“Sorry. Yes, I’m here, sort of,” you reply, looking-- where do you look when you’re talking to an AI?

“Captain Rogers is requesting your presence in the third floor kitchen.”

“Tell him I’ll be there in a half hour,” you reply.

“He said to tell you no matter your response that you have fifteen minutes.”

You scowl. “Awesome,” you mutter, swinging your legs over the side of the plush mattress. “Tell him I’ll get there when I get there, and he’ll just have to deal with it.”

FRIDAY is silent, but you suspect the message has been delivered. Yawning, you walk to the en suite bathroom and stare at yourself in the mirror. Hair? A rat’s nest. Skin? Could not look more dull. You really need to get more sleep, you think, but apparently that’s not going to start today.

Twenty minutes later, you step out of the glass elevator and into the brightly lit kitchen. There’s not many people milling about, and you discover why when you come across a clearly agitated Captain Steve Rogers at the large table, leg bouncing and chewing on the end of a pen.

“Morning,” you say when you get within earshot.

“You’re late.”

“You never told me we had an appointment,” you point out, swiping a muffin from the large plate in the middle of the table where he’s sitting, and slide into the seat across from him.

“I asked you to come here for a few days, didn’t I?” He looks up, revealing dark circles and day-old stubble. He’s got a pile of papers on the table in front of him, and a cup of half-drank coffee off to one side.

You hum in agreement, “And you’ve been very secretive about it all. Barely gave me time to pack a bag.” A wink, so he knows you’re (mostly) joking. “Not very gentlemanly, Captain.”

“Bucky’s arriving today.” He blurts, and your mouth falls open in surprise.

“Steve--” You breathe, suddenly understanding his nervousness.

“I sent Sam to get him a week ago, if he even wanted to come back to New York.” He smiles, but it’s weak. “Figured it might do some good to have someone… non-partial around.”

“This is…” You shake your head, “Wow, Steve. This is good, right?”

He exhales. “It’s-- yeah. More than good.” He meets your eyes, “I need you to give him a physical, just a regular check up. Protocol.”

You’re already nodding. “I’ll get the lab set up, although are you sure you don’t want Dr. Cho--”

“I want it to be you,” Steve explains, “You’re-- well, I think he’d like you, that’s all.” You must be blushing because he quickly backtracks. “I just mean that you’re a friend! My friend. He’ll trust you because I do.”

“Jeepers, Steve,” you tease, “Getting my heart all aflutter.”

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay. I’ll have FRIDAY let you know when he’s settled? Don’t want to overwhelm him.”

You nod. “I get it. Just let me know.” Impulsively, you get out of your chair and hug Steve from behind, sort of wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I’m really happy for you.”

He squeezes your hands, a long breath leaving him like he’s been holding it for awhile. “Thank you.”

It’s hours before you’re summoned, and you feel strangely nervous. You don’t really know what to expect. Sure, as trauma-nurse turned Avengers in-house care, you obviously know who Bucky Barnes is, and what he means to Steve Rogers. You were beginning to think you’d never meet him, though.

You follow voices until you get to your “office”, which is really just an open-air lab not dissimilar to the one Dr. Banner has for himself down the hall. Yours is less tech-savvy, though. You have office hours like any other doctor, and typically don’t live at the Tower unless a mission is wrapping up, or you’re on call.

You semi-retired after everything went down with SHIELD, but had been part of Steve’s team there, so you’re sort of contracting for the Avengers whenever things are scary enough that they need a full time physician.

Turning a corner, you see the back of Steve’s head as he sits in a chair across from the imposing figure that must be James Barnes.

You clear your throat and try to make your footsteps a little louder so you don’t interrupt them, but then remember they’re both super soldiers. They definitely have already heard you coming.

Steve greets you by name and introduces you to Bucky, who surprises you with a quick smile and a handshake.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he says, his voice somehow gruff and gentle all at the same time.

“You too,” you say. “Steve’s filled me in on the basics, but this is just a physical so we have your information on file. Nothing invasive, no needles, and nothing gets touched unless you say so, okay?”

He looks like he wants to smirk at your wording, but you can tell he’s a little tense and nervous too. You’ve thought about what to say to him and how to do this exam. You know he’s spent most of his life doing things without his consent, including receiving whatever poor medical care he was given.

“Whatever you say,” he agrees, and hops up on the exam table when you ask him to.

The entire exam only takes about ten minutes, until the only thing you have left to ask about is the arm. You sneak a glance at Steve, who’s chewing on his bottom lip. He gives you a small nod, so you take a deep breath and turn back to Bucky.

“I have to ask you a few questions about this.” You tell him, gesturing towards his left arm.

He flinches, barely noticeable if you weren’t standing right in front of him. “What do you want to know?” He leans in, voice conspiratorial, and whispers, “This isn’t my real arm.”

You’re momentarily stunned, but a breathless laugh escapes. Okay. Maybe this isn’t going to be as awful as you worried it might be, for him or for you.

.

Later, you’re in the kitchen with Steve and Sam, a glass of wine in front of each of you as you pick at your dinner. The rest of the Avengers are on a small mission, Falcon and Cap staying behind to look after the newest member of their team.

They don’t say it, but they’re worried.

“Captain Rogers,” FRIDAY interrupts, “Sergeant Barnes is experiencing some distress.”

The three of you stand, but Steve waves you off. “It’s a nightmare,” he says. “I’ll take care of it.” He takes a few steps and stops, not turning around. “FRIDAY will let you know if I need help.”

Sam’s face is tight with worry when he sits back down with you.

“What’s your take on this, Sam?” You ask, “Really. Honest assessment.”

“I think he needs help,” Sam says, and for a second you’re not sure if he means Steve, or Bucky. “He’s been through a lot. He’s a lot better physically, and some mentally, too. But there’s still-- it’s PTSD. He’s been a combat soldier for 70 years of his life, a POW. You can’t recover from that in a few months or even a few years.”

“I’ll try to help if I can,” you reassure him. “If he’ll let me.”

Sam stands up to leave, probably to check on Steve. He squeezes your shoulder as he walks behind you. “I know you will. Thanks, kid.”

You don’t respond, not even to dispute him acting like he’s so much older than you. Your brain is too busy trying to figure out what to do next.

.

The next few weeks go by in a similar fashion. You take up semi-permanent residence at the Tower.

Bucky sticks to his room a lot, though you see him sparring with Steve or hanging out with Sam in the common room a few times.

He doesn’t seek you out, and you don’t bother him except for subtly asking FRIDAY to let you know if he’s experiencing any distress that requires medical attention.

Now, you’re in the kitchen with Steve, eating at the large island and watching him warily. “Steve. You’re pacing.”

“I know I’m pacing.”

You set your fork down. “Why are you pacing?”

“I’m taking Bucky to Brooklyn today.”

You blink, eyes wide. “Whoa. That’s-- wow, that’s great! Was it your idea, or--”

“It was his, actually.” Steve stops pacing long enough to meet your eyes. “I’m a little worried it might be too much once we get there. Once he sees how much has changed…” He trails off. “I remember when I first went back. It was too much all at once.”

“Can I offer you some non-professional advice? As a friend?”

Steve still looks wary, but he nods.

“You gotta have a little faith in him, Steve. He’s been through a lot, yes. You’re still learning who he is right now. But he was in Wakanda for a year. Recovering only half of that time. He’s had time to catch up, to figure out how to be a person with agency. If he says he wants to do this, he probably does. You have to trust him.”

A movement from the doorway catches your attention and you flush when you see Bucky come into the kitchen slowly, looking a little sheepish. Damn these supersoldiers and their stealth. “Uh-- sorry to interrupt. Bad time?”

Steve smiles, though it’s a little shaky. “No, just talking to Doc here about coming with us to Brooklyn today.”

Your eyes widen as you whip around to face Steve, who sends you a pleading look quickly before Bucky sees him.

“Oh.” Bucky looks a little disappointed, but you don’t take it personally.

“I don’t want to intrude,” you say, “I know you had plans with Steve,”

Bucky waves a hand, “No, it’s fine, really. Could probably use someone around to make sure we don’t kill each other.”

You and Steve both freeze, and Bucky looks back and forth between you. “That was a joke.”

You’re the first to smile, and you’re doing it mostly for Bucky’s benefit, but also in hopes that Steve will relax a little bit. You know it’s not healthy for him to be this worried all the time. You also know that Bucky will never truly be at ease if Steve doesn’t start treating him like his friend again.

“I guess if I’m going to get a tour, I couldn’t ask for better guides,” you say, heading out to grab a jacket and your wallet.

A half hour later, you’re getting off the subway and heading into one of Brooklyn’s old neighborhoods. Bucky appears outwardly calm, but you could see how tense he was when you were on the train, and the way his eyes darted around cooly, mapping out all the entrances and exits. It’s the same thing you see Sam and Steve do, maybe more subtly, when you go out with them.

They all do it, really. The Avengers are battle weary already, and you wish you could give that sense of calm back to them.

“I’m going to grab a coffee,” you tell Steve and Bucky as you mill about on the street. You get the idea that neither of them has thought this through very much - they don’t really know where to go first. “Do you want anything?”

“Two black coffees. Is that okay?” Steve says, looking at Bucky.

“Add a little sugar to Steve’s. He won’t complain but he’ll make a face every time he takes a drink.” Bucky says, and you snort.

“Good to know.”

Five minutes later, you’re interrupting what looks like a serious conversation between the two men with a cautious smile, and with Steve scrambling to grab the coffee carrier out of your hands before you have to juggle three cups.

“Where to?” You ask once they’re both happily sipping hot coffee, Bucky only looking mildly uncomfortable.

“I don’t really know,” Bucky admits. “Guessing our old building isn’t there anymore?”

Steve smiles. “It is, actually. We can go there first if you want.”

You follow behind them on the sidewalk as they reminisce about places they used to go, people they used to know. It’s not sad, more nostalgic, and you’re content to listen to them talk as you sip your coffee.

Bucky shoves Steve lightly as he starts to point out all the places he used to get beat up. “That alley,” Steve points, “and behind that butcher shop--”

“I think she gets it.”

You laugh, “Tony should make landmark signs. We can put them in all your favorite places,” you tease, and Steve glares.

“You’re hilarious.”

You pull on his arm when Bucky suddenly stops right in front of him, keeping Steve from plowing straight into his friend’s back. You feel the mood shift and know this must be the place.

Bucky rubs at his jaw thoughtfully. “Huh. Smaller than I remember.” His voice is a little less confident than it was this morning. You stare at the building with him, trying to picture what it might have looked like decades ago. “This place was a shithole when we lived here--”

“Bucky!” Steve exclaims, but he’s laughing too, turning to face his friend almost for the first time all day. You’re giggling too, and Bucky shakes his head, his smile a little smaller, but still there.

“What? We were poor.” He shuffles his feet a little. “I loved it here. No better place than that apartment.” He inhales sharply before meeting Steve’s gaze, “Wait, no one-- we don’t know anyone who still--”

“No,” Steve says quietly, carefully. “No one we know still lives here. I checked when I first got out of the ice.”

Bucky nods. “I don’t-- I don’t want to know about them yet. Any of them.”

You assume he’s talking about his family, and whoever might still be alive. You feel like you’re intruding on a private conversation, so you busy yourself taking a few photos for your Instagram -- you’re not too shy to admit that this neighborhood is lovely. Old brick buildings and shops with lots of flowers blooming.

(And if you sneak a photo that has the back of Bucky and Steve standing there, shoulder to shoulder… well that’s nobody’s business)

In hindsight, you and Steve should have seen this night coming. The memories prove to be too much for Bucky, and the entire floor nearly shakes over your head when he has an episode in the middle of the night, spurred by nightmares and twisted memories of his family.

Footsteps speed by your doorway and you hear FRIDAY asking you to stay in your room, but you don’t listen. You’re too worried, despite the racing of your heart telling you that this is a bad idea.

You open the door just in time to see Steve sprinting down the hall towards the stairs. He must hear your door (or your heart, you think idly), because he turns to you. An authoritative, “No,” is all you get from him before he’s gone, apparently taking the stairs four at a time.

Not content to be left on the sidelines, you head downstairs to the lab, pausing just long enough to throw your hair into a bun and slip your glasses on, grabbing a sweatshirt off a hook by your door. You have no idea if you’ll be seeing Bucky tonight, but you want to be prepared just in case, even though you think Bruce and Dr. Cho are going to take the lead on his care while he’s here.

Forty-five minutes go by before you hear footsteps, and Steve and Bucky come trudging in. Steve has a black eye, and Bucky seems content to stare at his own feet.

“Steve--” You’re about to ask him to let you look at the bruising, but he holds up a hand to stop you. You’re suddenly filled with dread, wondering if Bucky is wholly himself, but you find it hard to believe Steve would have brought him down here at all if he wasn’t.

“I’m fine.” He smiles at you weakly, “Can you…” He trails off, looking at his best friend.

“I need something to help me sleep.” Bucky finishes, voice rough. “Preferably without dreams.”

You pause, “I can’t guarantee anything,” you give him what you hope is a reassuring smile, “But I can try.”

“Thanks.” Steve sounds exhausted, but Bucky looks worse.

“Can I have a minute alone?” You ask Bucky, but the question is really for Steve. Bucky tenses, and you rush to clarify, “Just want to chat about how we can help you get better sleep. Figured you might be more comfortable without an audience, but Steve can stay if you want him to.”

The two men have a silent conversation before Steve nods, reaching for your hand to give it a squeeze before he leaves you and Bucky alone.

It’s a few minutes before Bucky relaxes enough to talk. You busy yourself taking his vitals even though you know you could just ask FRIDAY to give you the rundown. It gives you something manual to do, so you don’t have to just stand in front of him.

“I’m sorry if I scared you.”

You look up in surprise. “Me? No, I-- you--”

“I know it-- I woke you up.”

You shake your head. “I was awake anyway.”

Bucky cocks his head in question, so you keep talking.

“I have a hard time sleeping. Did Steve tell you much about me? What I did-- before?”

“He said you’re a nurse.”

You nod. “I was a trauma nurse at a hospital nearby. That’s how Steve and I met.” You hesitate before the next part, but you feel like he’ll handle it okay. “I was working the day SHIELD fell. When he was brought in, I was in the ER.”

Bucky meets your eyes, and you can see the guilt swimming there.

You smile, “Turns out a nurse isn’t super necessary for a super soldier.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I suppose not.”

“My job mostly turned into babysitting. He kept trying to leave before he was fully healed, and we really had no idea how long he was going to be there. None of the rules applied to him, and he was way more focused on getting out to look for you.”

Bucky looks down, gunmetal hand whirring slightly as he fiddles with it. “Sounds like Steve.”

“Anyway, after I managed to put up with Steve and Sam for a whole two weeks,” you wink at Bucky, “Steve offered me a job. Thought they could use a medic around. I’d been wanting to get out of the hospital anyway. Some days were… hard.” You try your best not to let the memories get the better of you. “Turns out Bruce is a great doctor but not when he’s-- the other guy.”

Bucky nods, seemingly finding his resolve. He takes a deep breath, “I thought I could handle today. I felt good when we were there. Like I could almost forget--” he waves his hand around vaguely. “You know.”

You nod slowly. “In my experience, recovery isn’t always a straight line.”

Bucky is quiet, but you take that as a signal to keep going.

“I definitely still have days where I can’t see the lights of an ambulance without my heart rate speeding up. I have nightmares, and sometimes when the team is gone on a mission, I’m so anxious thinking about what’s happening to them I can barely breathe.” You force yourself to keep talking, “And then there’s some days where I’m calm. I can handle it, and I feel fine.”

You look up at him so you can look directly into his eyes. He’s already looking at you, and for a second, you feel a zip of awareness hit you in your gut.

“I’ve got something for you. It’ll help you sleep, but it’s really strong.” Quieter, you add, “Don’t tell Steve, but Bruce and Tony developed this for him years ago. He won’t ever admit to having nights like you’ve had. This seemed to help him.” You reach over on the table for a pill bottle and press it into Bucky’s palm. “Read the directions. Don’t take more than one.”

“Yes ma’am.” He murmurs. “Thank you.”

After a brief awkward moment, he leaves the room, and you can hear his quiet footsteps down the hall until the ding of the elevator signals him going back upstairs.

A few moments later, Steve is in your line of vision, and he doesn’t say anything, just gives you this look and it completely breaks your heart.

Wordlessly, you hold out your hand, wiggling your fingers, and he takes it willingly, threading your fingers together. Pulling him close, you stand shoulder to shoulder with the super soldier, squeezing his hand in reassurance as you both pull your thoughts together.

“I knew this was going to be hard,” he says, voice low. “I just didn’t-- I hate seeing him in pain and not being able to do anything about it.”

“I know, Steve.” You don’t have any answers, so you don’t try to give him one. “You need to try to rest.” You tell him instead.

“So do you,” he replies stubbornly.

“One day at a time, Steve.” You remind him.

“Yeah.” He sighs, wiping his free hand over his face. “Yeah, I know.”

When you get to your bedroom that night, you’re exhausted. It’s quiet above you, and you keep replaying the night’s events over and over.

Out of everything, one moment stands out to you - that potent moment of eye contact with Bucky Barnes. You can still feel the electricity crackling through you as you remember it.

That can’t be good.

.

“Any time, Cap,” Tony’s voice, out of breath, comes through the comms. You’re watching anxiously from your lab in the Tower, wondering again how you got roped into this.

“I’m busy,” Steve replies haughtily, and you hear the sound of two bodies hitting the floor. “On my way.”

The sound of fighting rings out, and you try to subtly eye the man next to you, his posture similar to yours - arms crossed, brow furrowed.

“Do they always argue this much on a mission?” Bucky wonders aloud, and you snort.

“I’ve only been involved in a few, but in my experience: yes.”

The mission is otherwise pretty smooth - Steve and Tony are more than capable of handling a few rogue Hydra thugs on their own, and you’re relieved when Tony lets you know over the comms that they’re headed back, objective complete.

You glance at Bucky next to you, who still stares at the screens.

“This must be a little overwhelming…” you start, not really sure how much you should press.

He shrugs. “Just different. The last time I planned any type of mission I was in olive drab and all I ever had to do was say yes, sir.”

You’re still surprised with how candid he’s being, willingly offering up details about his past, those he can remember, at least.

“Mr. Stark and Captain Rogers have docked.” FRIDAY’s voice interrupts your musing, and you nod at Bucky, who leaves the room to go meet them. He brushes past you, and you feel another zip of awareness when he does, shaking your head to get rid of the feeling.

He’s your patient. You absolutely cannot, will not allow yourself to feel anything other than a clinical attraction to the man. He deserves better than that, and you can’t afford to be distracted, not when he needs your help and is depending on you to get better.

Just earlier that day, you sat down with Steve and Tony for a quick briefing to better plan for the days ahead in terms of Bucky’s recovery and his place with the team.

Steve is tense, rightly so, and Tony is firm, arms crossed over his chest, eyes dark as he looks at the files in front of the three of you.

“You’re saying there’s no way to know if the trigger words are actually deactivated.” Tony asks, though it’s not really phrased as a question.

“I’m saying there might be other triggers. Not just the words, though Shuri insists those are moot. He’s got PTSD, Tony.”

“Yeah, well. Join the club.” Tony mutters, looking out the window. You can’t imagine how difficult this is for him. You know as well as everyone else does that Barnes was responsible for the Starks’ deaths. You’re surprised Tony okayed Bucky’s arrival here at all, though he does have a heart. He knows Bucky was brainwashed, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Steve doesn’t say anything. You get the idea he’s worried to say the wrong thing -- he admitted to you once that he’s obviously biased where Bucky’s concerned. He doesn’t know how to be Bucky’s ally and Tony’s friend at the same time.

“All this is, is a plan for if the worst happens.” You hold up your hand quickly, stopping Steve before he responds, “I’m not saying we’ll ever have to use this, but we have evacuation plans for everything else, there’s no reason why we shouldn’t be prepared for him to relapse. Even if the Soldier is out of his head, there’s still a chance his memories will get the best of him and he’ll have an episode.” You say the last part quietly, meeting Steve’s concerned gaze.

“We don’t even know if he’s going to want to have anything to do with the Avengers,” he acknowledges. “After all this time… for all I know he wants to lay low.”

Tony nods. “If he does… we won’t have him on any field missions until we’re sure he can handle it. Until then he stays here, helps Hill with the comms and he can…” Tony gestures wildly, “I don’t know, be strategic backup or something.”

That option had proved to be more than okay with Bucky, though he acknowledged he didn’t really have any say in the matter. He just wanted to be useful.

In the weeks that follow, he fills in for Maria Hill when she’s called away for other Stark Industries work, and takes to running the team like he was born to do it.

“It’s the squad leader in me,” he tells you one day, a grin on his face. “Though the lot of you are a lot easier to deal with than Army brats.”

He even helps Steve train some new recruits when the opportunity presents itself. Overall, his recovery is on track to be even shorter than you expected. Sure, there are still moments where he loses himself in a memory or has to be shaken awake in the middle of the night when things get to be too much. But you know every single other person in the Tower struggles that way too.

You’re mostly enjoying getting to know James Barnes the person, and not The Winter Soldier, the enigma, even if it is getting harder and harder to ignore the butterflies that take flight in your stomach every time he enters a room you’re in.

You’re killing time in the lab when Tony saunters in, startling you with his Iron Man gear half-on.

“What are you doing?”

“Need a hand,” he says, drawing out the word as he waves at you, thruster firmly in place on his left hand.

“Terrible.” You mutter. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just miscalculated the power of the new thruster and sort of… fused it to my hand.” He says the last part quickly, and you blink at him.

“I’m sorry. I heard that wrong.”

He grins cheerily. “Nothing wrong with your ears! Now--” He claps his hands together with a metallic clang, “-- You got anything for burns?”

Bucky wanders in sometime after you’ve finally gotten Tony to sit down. He watches warily, stopping before entering the room completely, a little curious. “Don’t mean to interrupt,” he says quietly, “but what the fuck is going on?”

Even Tony smiles at that, Bucky’s blunt tone a sure sign he’s had a decent day, as far as moods go. “Experimentation gone wrong,” he says brightly. “Doc’ll get me sorted.”

You glare at him. “I’m not a surgeon. Stop giving me surgeons’ work to do.”

You’re gently trying to pull the round piece of metal from Tony’s palm without completely frying his nerves. Coincidentally, the entire thing is destroying your own nerves in the process.

“Need a hand?” Bucky asks, pulling up a stool.

Tony snorts. “That’s what I said.”

You’re very aware of the heat emanating from Bucky’s side as he watches you work. Normally you wouldn’t let someone this close while you’re essentially performing surgery, but you think idly that it might be a good idea to have a third party here in case Tony starts complaining that you’re trying to butcher him.

“What I need--” you say through grit teeth, “-- is for both of you to shut up and let me work.”

“Yes ma’am.” Bucky says with a smile.

Tony raises his eyebrows in delight at the exchange, but you ignore him.

“Hold still,” you murmur after a few minutes, and when you glance up, relieved that there’s quiet finally, you see a few beads of sweat on Tony’s brow. He’s frowning at his own hand, and you think he’s finally starting to grasp how serious this could have been. “Honestly--” You huff, “Now you’re getting squeamish?”

“I didn’t think about the part where you’d actually have to yank it off,” Tony says defensively.

“I’ve got as much of the metal out as I can, so hopefully I can just…” you mime ripping it off with your free hand.

His eyes widen. “No you will not.”

Bucky sits back, arms folded across his chest with an amused grin at the billionaire.

“There’s nothing for it, Tony. Like a bandaid.”

“Can’t be worse than when I had to give myself stitches in the middle of the woods in Belgium with some dental floss,” Bucky says off-handedly, and both you and Tony stare at him, mouths agape.

“This is the twenty-first century!” Tony protests, gritting his teeth, “This isn’t the fucking Battle of the Bulge, Grandpa!”

“And, three.” You say with finality, lifting the remnants of the Iron glove off Tony’s palm, having used his outrage at Bucky’s bad attempt at bedside manner as a distraction to do the hard part. “Thank you, Sergeant Barnes.” You say primly as he hands you a piece of gauze that had been waiting nearby.

“Devious.” Tony remarks as you wrap his palm. “What’s the damage?”

“You need to keep it clean or it’ll get infected. No more experimenting.”

You let Tony go with the promise - or threat - to tell Pepper about this, and then it’s just you and Bucky there as you clean up.

“Does that happen often?”

You glance over your shoulder at him, “More often than I’d like. He thinks he’s invincible.”

The corners of Bucky’s mouth tilt up. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

You’re momentarily fascinated by how much younger he looks when he smiles, but you force yourself to look away and go back to cleaning up the tray you had supplies on. “Did you need anything?” You ask, remembering how he wandered in on his own nearly an hour ago.

He flushes, scratching the back of his neck. “Just some company.” He admits.

It sends a thrill through you.

“It’s nice to talk to someone who has no idea who I am. Or who I’m supposed to be.” He says, the last part barely a whisper.

You feel so much for him at this moment. You can’t imagine what he’s been through, and still, the man manages to crack jokes whenever he can, and is, on the outside, not completely overwhelmed with being in a new place, finally in his own head.

“I think I’ll head back to bed.” He says, a small smile on his face. “This was… interesting.” He grins. On his way past you to the door, he reaches out briefly and squeezes your free hand. You think he might not even realize he’s done it.

You almost drop the tools in your hand when you realize what’s happened -- the mark on your arm, the one you try so diligently to cover up, is burning.

“Oh, shit.” You murmur to yourself.

.

You avoid Bucky for weeks after that. You see him in a strictly professional capacity, and you feel like the biggest bitch on the planet for it, but you have no idea what to do with yourself.

After he left you in the lab that night, you inspected your well-hidden mark, trying to figure out why it was suddenly coming to life after years. It was a dull pink color, like you’d been rubbing at it, and even though you refused to accept it, you knew deep down what that meant.

You have no one to ask about it. No one at all.

Soul marks are rare, and they’re rarer still among the bunch you live with. Steve doesn’t have a mark, nor does Sam. You don’t feel like putting up with the shit you’ll get from Tony or Pepper if you try to ask them about theirs.

You’ve read enough about the bond to recognize it for what it is, but your brain is still stuck on one fact - Bucky Barnes doesn’t have a mark. Not that you’ve seen, and not that he’s mentioned.

It occurs to you then that the worst case could be true - you could be his, but he might not be yours. What a nightmare. As if he doesn’t have enough to deal with after quite literally coming back to life. Throwing an unreciprocated soulmate into the mix? No. You won’t do it.

So you avoid him.

You even go out of your way to liaison with the new SHIELD for two weeks, as part of a new partnership Steve and Tony were reluctantly part of with the recently-still-alive Phil Coulson.

“Are you sure you want to go? They have a doctor.” Steve asks as he carries your duffel to the dock as you await the arrival of SHIELD’s quinjet.

“They have a scientist,” you remind him. “They wouldn’t have asked for help if they really didn’t need it.”

Steve scowls, still a little perturbed that a man he considered a friend couldn’t even let them know he was alive, let alone that he was resurrecting SHIELD.

“We need to know what they’re working on, anyway.” You say. “Plus, it’s good networking.”

Steve shakes his head. “Yeah, yeah. Still. What if--” He stops himself, looking away as you reach the hangar. “What if we need you?”

“Then you’ll call, and I’ll have them fly me back.”

You hear what he’s really asking - what if Bucky needs you? You considered it. But you think you need the distance more than being around and avoiding him. He hasn’t needed you in any urgent way in weeks, anyway.

“Fine. But make sure Coulson knows he’s still on my shit list.”

“Steve Rogers!” You gasp. “He’ll be broken-hearted to hear that.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but you’re interrupted by incoming engines, and watch as the quinjet flies smoothly into the hangar.

You’re surprised at how young the team is. Not much younger than you, sure, but still. They’re watching Steve with something like awe in their eyes.

“Captain Rogers.” Coulson says, descending the ramp and holding out his hand tentatively. “It’s good to see you.” He’s sincere, that much is obvious.

“Coulson.” Steve’s tone is curt, but he shakes the man’s hand anyway.

After an awkward pause, Steve turns to you, introducing you.

“This is Agent May, Fitz, Simmons, and Daisy.” Coulson says, and you smile at each member in turn. “We’re looking forward to working with you.”

“Likewise.” You grin at him. It seems impossible to be anything less than genial with Phil Coulson, though Steve is doing his best to prove otherwise, and Tony hasn’t even bothered to leave his office to greet the new arrivals.

“I’ll bring her back in one piece.” Phil tells Steve.

“The alternative isn’t an option.” Steve replies, and you roll your eyes.

“Okay, that’s enough. Bye, Steve. Don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.”

His expression softens, and you know he’s just being protective in that big-brotherly way of his.

As you’re boarding the jet, you see movement out of the corner of your eye, and see Bucky back in the shadows, leaning against the wall as he watches you leave. You bite your lip in frustration, knowing that leaving after ignoring him is a cowardly move. Still, it’s the only option you can think of while you try to sort this out.

After taking off, Phil turns to you.

“He hates me, doesn’t he.” There’s something like despair in his voice.

You sigh. “They thought you were dead.”

“Technically I was.”

He fills you in on the whole story as you fly to their base, and when you land, you take the first minute you can to get Jemma Simmons alone.

“I was hoping you could tell me more about soul marks. I know you’ve done some research--”

She smiles at you, putting you at ease. “What questions do you have?”

.

Bucky watches the jet take off, a hollow feeling in his chest. He can’t figure out what he did to drive you away so thoroughly.

Steve stands there with his arms crossed for a few minutes before turning back, shaking his head.

“You trust them?” Bucky asks, and Steve pauses.

“I do.” He sighs, then looks at his friend. “Are you worried?”

Bucky scoffs. “Am I worried that she ignored me for two weeks and then fucked off with a bunch of people I don’t know?”

Steve’s grin is slow, lazy. “Careful, Buck. Sounding awfully protective.”

Bucky scowls. “Shut up.”

One thing that has absolutely not changed since the 40s is Steve’s propensity to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong, and lately that’s been evident in the way he’s been trying to needle out what exactly Bucky is feeling for the good doctor.

He doesn’t even know what he’s feeling.

She’s-- smart. She’s smart and she’s funny, and she’s beautiful, but it’s not like he would ever act on it. She’s his doctor. Probably the closest thing to a best friend Steve has. Bucky’s not going to fuck that up just because he’s noticed that she smells like vanilla and when the sun hits her face just right-- well. He’s not going to fuck it up.

Besides, he clearly made her uncomfortable when he told her it was nice to be around her. That she understood him, in some way that Steve didn’t. That clearly freaked her out.

He would laugh if it wasn’t happening to him. Scared a woman away so thoroughly that she literally got on a jet and took off.

He sighs and follows Steve back to the common area where a few of the others are lingering. They want a report on SHIELD, no doubt.

Bucky is going to do some digging of his own. SHIELD, for obvious reasons, has left the taste of ash in his mouth, and he’ll never forgive himself if it turns out that they’re some kind of HYDRA cell using a familiar face to get close to the Avengers again.

Not to mention his favorite doctor would be caught in the middle of it, and he can’t have that.

He feels… he feels good. It’s unfamiliar. But really, minor episodes and nightmares aside, he feels more like himself than he has in decades. There were brief moments when he was lucid enough in Hydra to remember who he was and where he was, but he thinks being brainwashed was… not a blessing, he’s not stupid enough to consider it that, but the alternative… having to be himself while he did those things… it would have killed him.

Now, he finally has choices.

His first choice was deciding to accept Steve’s help and friendship, and his second choice was to trust you.

He thinks that should mean something.

He thinks back to a moment from a few weeks back, shortly after the Brooklyn trip. You didn’t treat him like he was broken, and he appreciated it more than he could say. So much so that he invited you back to Brooklyn with him, to one of his favorite diners from when he was growing up.

He’s so happy to see it still exists that he can’t wait to have a meal there. Steve is busy, and you just-- the way you smile at him when he asks you to go, he knows he’s made the right call.

“James Barnes?” The older woman at the counter looks like she’s seen a ghost.

“That’s me,” he says, trying to smile. He has no idea how people are going to react to him wherever he goes.

“I’ll be damned,” she whispers. “My grandmother… she used to tell me stories about you and Captain Rogers.”

He smiles. “Good ones, I hope?”

“Only good ones. My grandmother was Ruth Kelley.”

The name fires some synapse in Bucky’s brain that hasn’t been used in years. Suddenly he’s nineteen, sharing a malt with Ruthie at the counter while she was on her lunch break, trying to pretend he’s not pulling out all the stops to make her laugh.

“You look just like her,” he stutters, and she does - the same eyes, the same kind smile.

“Thank you.” She whispers. “Anything you want, on the house today.”

Bucky tries to protest, but you stop him.

“Let her do this for you,” you say quietly.

Bucky nods and the two of you sit in a booth, his mind still working overtime trying to believe that all the pieces of his life could come full circle like this.

“An old flame?” You ask, lifting a mug of coffee to your lips, and Bucky finds himself entranced by the playful look on your face.

“Something like that.” He murmurs. “She grew up in the same building as Steve and I. Used to come bother her while she worked. That family was the best. They’d give us free slices of pie every so often…” He trails off. “Never saw her again before I shipped out.”

You’re quiet, a look on your face he can’t identify. “You must have meant a lot to her. If she told her granddaughter about you.”

He turns to watch Ruth’s granddaughter busy herself behind the counter, her movements so similar to Ruth’s that for a horrible moment, he thinks he might cry too.

On the way back to the Tower, you loop your arm through his, so casually, the touch coming so easy for you, it throws Bucky for a loop. It’s not unwelcome - you’re warm through your jacket, and Bucky hasn’t realized how much he missed human contact until this moment.

He thinks it should be concerning, how quickly you’re inserting yourself in his life. He tells himself it’s purely professional, but he knows it’s a lie.

The annoyingly knowing looks he’s been getting from Steve and Sam seem to suggest that too, not to mention the not-so-subtle threatening from Tony.

He’s drawn to you, and it scares him a little, while at the same time it feels like it’s just… right. He tried to surreptitiously get a look at your left arm the first time he thought… but to no avail. He hadn’t seen a mark. Certainly not one like he remembers, not one that he hoped to see, as fleeting as the thought had been at the time. But he told himself it didn’t matter. His own parents weren’t soulmates, but they loved each other.

Peggy and Steve didn’t have marks either, but they loved each other til the end. It doesn’t matter. Although, truth be told, it won’t matter at all if you stop talking to him completely.

Trying to get his mind off you, he seeks out his friends, finding them in the common area. No sooner has he made himself comfortable on the couch next to Sam then there’s an alarm blaring somewhere, and all his senses fire to life.

Steve is on his feet immediately, as is Tony, tapping away at his tablet as he tries to figure out what’s wrong.

“Steve?” Sam asks, body rigid.

“Suit up,” Steve says immediately. “Tony and I will do threat assessment.”

“Already done,” Tony chirps. “Fun - intruders!”

Bucky rolls his eyes, but he’s already moving, striding towards the doors to the command center and sliding a headset on his head - he feels more at home here than he thought he would.

“Check in when you’ve got comms,” he says distractedly, tapping away at the screen in front of him until he pulls up a couple cameras of the lower floors.

He spares a thought to be grateful that you’re not here right now, as he watches a team of men in black bust through the doors to the lab. “Lower two floors. I count eight, maybe ten operatives.”

“On it,” Steve says in his ear, and Bucky watches as his friend skips the elevator and instead launches himself down over the railing.

“Idiot.” He mutters.

“I can hear you.”

He smirks. “Tony, there’s a few more on the outside trying to get in,” he confirms, hearing the now-familiar sound of thrusters as Tony takes off from the launchpad outside the penthouse.

“More company incoming,” Tony replies, and Bucky can hear the sound of an engine through the comms.

Gunfire suddenly erupts almost directly outside the room Bucky’s in, the reinforced glass holding, but Bucky still throws his metal arm above his head and ducks out of instinct.

He knows this is Hydra. This was bound to happen, with Bucky living here. The Asset would never be allowed to live with everything he knows.

Bucky grimaces. “I’m going to need to get to the armory.”

Sam’s voice is next, “Negative, big guy. You’re going to stay right where you are, or else no one else has eyes on us.”

“Seconded.” Steve says firmly.

“I’m kind of a sitting duck up here.” Bucky protests. “This is seventy years of sniper training going to waste,” he adds, and Steve audibly sighs in his ear.

“Take an MG, that’s it.” He says, and Bucky snorts.

“You think I’d try to grab an alien gun? I’m not as stupid as you remember.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply as he heads out the door, eyes scanning this way and that for any potential threats. He hears the fight going on a few floors below, but so far he’s in the clear, and he heads towards the hangar where he can slip in a back entrance to the armory (hopefully) undetected.

“Two headed to you, Buck.” Steve says, sounding out of breath.

“Copy that.” Bucky says, steeling himself for the inevitable fight. He lets himself feel exhausted for approximately one second before he gets to work - his training taking over like he’s on autopilot.

He makes it to the armory door before he’s jumped from behind, though he heard them coming. He knows he can’t let them get inside. He uses their momentum to propel himself forward, flinging one man off his back and sending him careening into the opposite wall.

His other hand rears back out of instinct, delivering a sickening blow to the second man’s face.

Warily, he watches the first man struggle to his feet, a sneer on his face. “Longing.” He says, and Bucky sees red, though not for the reason he suspects the man hopes. “Rusted.”

Bucky pulls back with his metal arm, and delivers one solid punch. “Eat shit.”

Steve comes skidding around the corner a moment or two later, watching the scene in front of him. He clearly heard what the man was trying to do over comms - his face is a mixture of terror and concern.

“Bucky?”

“It’s still me, Steve.”

“Just checking.” He steps over the two men on the floor. “Didn’t need the MG after all?”

“Didn’t make it that far.” Bucky reaches down, straightening the man’s jacket so he can see the insignia for himself. He sighs. “Not going for stealth these days.”

“They’re done fighting in the shadows, or whatever.” Steve replies with a roll of his eyes. “We’ll get them all to lockup - Tony’s got the rest on the roof.”

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose. “This is going to keep happening. As long as I’m here. You know that, right?”

Steve’s face hardens. “Then we’ll keep fighting them. They’re not going to take you again.” The fierceness in his voice makes Bucky want to weep. This is the Steve he remembers.

He helps get the Hydra agents rounded up with the rest of the team, and then retreats to his bedroom. He feels exhausted, even though he didn’t have to do much - even the fight itself wasn’t as awful as it could have been.

He’s just tired of being hunted. He just wants to-- he doesn’t know, really. Be free? It sounds so trite. But he’s got a chance at a better life now, and he’s not going to let anyone take that away from him. Not Hydra, not whoever they decide to send after him next.

That night he has another nightmare, but this time, it’s about you. The look on your face after you see him in action - it sends you even further away from him, and Bucky knows he’ll never get you back, not after this. Not after you’ve seen the Soldier.

When he startles awake, the shame burning in his chest is a living, breathing thing.

He realizes then what you mean to him, or what you could if given the chance.

It doesn’t scare him as much as it should.

.

Jemma Simmons is infinitely patient as she explains the research about soul marks to you. It helps that she has a soulmate of her own, one who has a reciprocating mark.

It doesn’t do a thing to quell your guilt about Bucky, though. You still feel like you’d be trapping him into something. He’s never had much of a choice about anything in his life before, and you don’t want to take this away from him, too.

Trying to distract yourself, you throw yourself into research and analysis with Fitz and Simmons. In the few days you’ve been with SHIELD, you’ve helped them learn more about Daisy’s power and biology, your experience working with Avengers helpful as they try to catalog what she can do and what her limits are.

You plan to head back to Avengers Tower by the end of the week, and head to bed that night feeling like the time away from everything was just what you needed, even if you do have two letters to Steve from Phil in your bag that you’re almost certainly not going to give him.

The man is desperate for his apology to be accepted by his hero.

You’re asleep nearly the minute your head hits the pillow.

Annoyingly, you dream of Bucky. It’s not the dream you’ve had before - holding hands at the diner, or making some grand declaration. This is… darker. More real. It scares you.

Someone is hauling Bucky out of the Tower, and Bucky is nearly incapacitated. Drugged or… worse. You feel a shudder run through you as you watch him smuggled out in the dead of night, knowing there’s nothing you can do to help.

You wake with a gasp, and when you pull up your left sleeve, the mark on your arm is an angry red.

Panic slides through you like ice in your veins, and you’re reaching for your phone before you can begin to make sense of anything.

“Hey. It’s the middle of the night.”

“I need you to check on Bucky.” You tell Steve, your tone urgent.

“What?”

“Just do it, Steve.”

“What’s going on?”

“Steve.”

You hear movement on his end, and listen intently as he leaves his apartment and heads across the hall. “It’s been quiet all night,” he assures you. “We had a run-in today, but other than that…” He trails off, and that’s what sets your heart pounding. “FRIDAY, what time did Bucky leave his apartment?” Steve asks the AI, and you feel your heart plummet.

You don’t hear her reply.

“Steve, listen to me. I think he’s been taken.”

“How the hell did you--”

“I can’t explain it. I need you to come get me. I don’t want to worry anyone here, but I can help.”

“I’ll be wheels up in ten.”

A click, and then the line goes dead.

It feels like hours before you hear a knock on the door in the base, and Phil Coulson is there, looking as worried as you are, though you’re sure he’s picking up on the anxiety coming from Steve, and from having an Avenger in his secret base.

“Steve!”

“He’s gone.” Steve says rapidly, “We had a… brief infiltration today--”

“A what?!”

“Don’t worry about it now. Point is - I think they were a distraction. They needed to figure out how to get in and how to get to Bucky.”

“I can find him.” You grab your bag, trying to push past him and Coulson both to get to the door.

“Wait a minute, slow down, how did you even know he was gone? I don’t understand.”

“We don’t have time for this right now, Steve. Who knows what they’ve done to him or are planning to do.”

“Hey.” Steve’s voice is sharp, drawing you back into focus. “I need you to slow down. Explain this to me like I’m an idiot.”

You glare, but force your breathing to slow. “Something’s wrong. I just-- I can feel it, Steve.”

“How?”

“I think I’m-- his,” you choke out. “I-- he doesn’t have a mark, I know that, but I have one. I’ve had one my whole life, and I’ve never felt--”

Steve exhales hard. “Jesus Christ.” Hands on his hips, he looks back at you. “So… you can sense him? Is that it?”

You nod. “Sort of. I noticed it when we first met. An awareness, really. I didn’t think anything of it. I thought I was being overprotective while he was recovering.”

Steve’s expression clears. “The night he had an episode after we went to Brooklyn. You knew something was wrong before I heard him.”

“Steve, I-- I don’t want him to know. We just need to find him. Everything else… it doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is that I can help you find him, and we can help him.”

“Okay.” Steve’s voice is sure, full of conviction. “Okay. We get him back, and we worry about the rest later.”

.

“Where are the others?” You ask as you, Steve, and Phil walk as quickly as possible towards the quinjet.

“Tony’s on standby. No point in bringing the full team until we know what we’re up against. I don’t even know where to start looking.” He exhales hard. “What do they even want with him? Without the triggers, there’s no point--”

“Hydra’s been trying to pop up all over the world,” Coulson says. “They’ve taken over several old SHIELD bases, some that we didn’t even know about. They could be trying to use the Asset to bring out whoever’s still in hiding.”

“But he’s not the Soldier anymore.” You say, fierce.

“They don’t know that.” Coulson points out.

At this point, other members of his team have gathered, and you try to keep it together before you have to explain yourself in front of everyone. You’d rather suss this out with Steve, first.

“We’re ready to help if you need it, Captain.” Coulson says, shoulders straight.

Steve watches him carefully, hands on his hips. “We don’t even know where to start looking.”

“Any chance Sergeant Barnes would try to send a signal?” Daisy asks, her voice quiet as she interrupts. “If you know what to look for, we could try to hack into any outgoing Hydra communication channels we know about.”

Steve’s expression clears. “Yeah, he might. If he’s not--”

“He’s not compromised, Steve. I can feel it.” You tell him quietly. Steve stares at you, trying to decide if he can trust this. You don’t blame him - you have no idea if this is going to work either.

“Alright, let’s get to work.” Steve says finally.

“You got it, boss.” Daisy says, with a lazy salute, and you watch, amused as her gaze snaps to Coulson. “No offense, Director.”

“None taken. I’m outranked.” He says agreeably.

You sigh in relief at finally having some help. You can’t let anything happen to Bucky. For Steve’s sake, and for your own.

.

Bucky opens his eyes slowly - his eyelids feel like they weigh a hundred pounds. Immediately he’s on edge. He has a hazy vision of someone breaking down his door, a cloth in his face and him trying to fight them off before he passed out.

Shit, he thinks, Steve’s going to be so pissed. He takes a minute to assess the situation. A dingy, dark room. He’s shackled. Not the most original way he’s ever been held against his will, but whatever.

He spares a thought for you. Do you even know he’s gone? You’re with SHIELD. Steve’s probably trying like hell to keep this from you, so he doesn’t worry you. Bucky feels himself getting angrier the longer he thinks about it - he finally thinks he might be able to work up the nerve to ask you out, or to at least tell you he thinks you’re-- well, it doesn’t matter.

None of it will matter unless he gets out of here.

He feels a little woozy. He wonders what they used to knock him out, because he knows it would take nearly five times a normal amount of anything that would render a normal person unconscious. It makes him a little nervous, but again, it mostly pisses him off.

He tests his left arm - and can’t move. A brief flash of panic runs through him, but he grits his teeth and tells himself to calm down. There’s something in the room - an EMP maybe? Something that’s taken his arm out of commission.

He tests the shackles, and his right arm pulls free.

“Huh.” Suspicious.

The door opens, and in comes one of the two men who greeted him near the armory at the Tower.

“Oh, hello.” Bucky greets.

“Soldat.” The other man says, and Bucky’s eyes narrow.

“What was it I told you earlier? Oh, right. Eat shit.”

“So the rumors are true? The trigger words no longer work. That’s alright, there are other ways to make you comply.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Look, I’m done taking orders. So you’re wasting your time.”

Bucky does, under it all, wonder what the play is here. He’s basically not held down any more, and they had to know the restraints wouldn’t hold him. So what’s the point? He doesn’t know enough about the Avengers to be a threat to their security, and he’s ninety percent sure that the brainwashing won’t work.

He’s banking on it.

In the back of his mind, there’s a buzzing that lets him know he’s still not completely with it. He also has a gut feeling that Steve is already assembling, or whatever it is he calls it when the Avengers get a mission, so he just has to stall enough to catch this goon off guard and get the hell out of here.

“Well, go on then. Tell me about your nefarious plans.”

That earns him a punch on the jaw, and while it doesn’t hurt really, it pisses him off.

“Alright. I’m tired of this. Tell me what you want, or I’m going to leave, and if I have to kill you to do it, well, that’s just too bad.”

His smile is just a touch too wild to be sane, Bucky thinks, right before he presses something in his right hand. Not an EMP, then, Bucky has a second to think before it feels as if his entire brain is being electrocuted, and then he blacks out.

.

“Remind me again why I’m doing this?” Tony asks Steve the second he lands in the hangar at SHIELD HQ. “Hello,” he says distractedly to the small crowd that’s gathered.

“Bucky’s in trouble.”

“Barnes has been in trouble his entire life.”

“Tony.” You growl, a warning if he’s ever heard one. “We have to help him.”

Tony sighs. “This place is pretty cool, if a little low tech,” he says finally, looking around, his gaze landing on Phil Coulson. “Phil. You’re not dead.”

“Neither are you. Heard it was pretty close for the both of us.”

Tony turns back to you and Steve. “Why am I here but Wilson isn’t?”

“Sam’s already doing recon.” Steve says, his expression hard. “I need you to help with the hacking.”

“Hey!” Daisy protests, not looking up from her laptop. “I don’t need help--”

“I know you,” Tony says. “You hacked SHIELD. They called me about that. I think you owe me an apology.”

She raises an eyebrow. “... anyway. We were able to narrow it down to these two previously unknown SHIELD bases. They’ve been silent for months, but recently had a string of outgoing communications, one of which can be tracked to a location in New York not far from the Tower.”

“He’s around the fucking block and I flew all the way here?”

Steve glares at Tony. “That doesn’t mean it’s where they’ve taken him. Just that they’re operating there.”

“They’ve probably had eyes on him ever since he came back to New York,” you say quietly.

“Christ.” Tony runs a hand over his face. “Alright, get Wilson over there and see what he can shake out. Doc, do you have a plan if Barnes is… compromised?”

You’re quiet. Steve’s quiet. No one really knows what to do if that’s the case. You’re not sure if it’s even possible, not after all the work Shuri did with Bucky’s recovery in Wakanda, but there’s still the possibility… no. You won’t let yourself think about it.

“We could use the containment module.” Agent May says quietly, one of the first things she’s said since you’ve been with SHIELD. “It’s meant to hold the strongest inhumans.”

Tony gets out of the suit eventually and you all start pouring over audio files from the last few days to try to find Bucky.

Eventually, Steve turns to you. “He’s alright?” He asks, softly, worriedly.

You sigh, but at the pained look on his face, you have no other choice. You concentrate as hard as you can, feeling your connection with Bucky like a tether. You’d know if he was gone. Even if it was just his mind.

“I think so.”

Tony gapes. “Does someone want to fill me in, here?”

“They have a connection.” Steve says, flat.

You watch as Tony connects the dots. “Oh, sweet Christ. That explains a lot.”

You glare. “Excuse me?”

He rolls his eyes, turning back to the monitor in front of him, muttering. “Making heart eyes at each other across my lab--”

“It could be that only she has the mark. But it shouldn’t diminish the bond,” Simmons says quietly across the table, her eyes not leaving the papers in front of her.

“You told SHIELD before you told me?” Tony asks, incredulous. “I’m wounded.”

“Are they always like this?” Fitz asks Coulson, not so quietly. You can relate - there’s something about seeing that your heroes are just regular people.

“Got him.” Daisy says suddenly, voice hard. “There.” She points at the map.

“Let’s go,” Coulson directs, “we’re wheels up in five.”

“You’re staying here.” Steve tells you, and you immediately stop in your tracks.

“I’m going with you. Are you--”

“This is a rescue mission.”

“And I’m a doctor!” And I’m his soulmate, even if he doesn’t know it yet.

“Argue later, on the jet now!” May says sharply, throwing a bulletproof vest in your direction. You catch it before you get knocked over with the weight, and slip it on as quick as you can.

On the jet, you watch as Steve Rogers slowly disappears and Captain America takes over, giving orders and preparing for the possibility that the person they’re going to find might no longer be his best friend.

“You’re going to stay on board while we clear the place, got it?”

You scowl, but don’t argue with him, knowing it won’t do you any good. He goes around handing out comms, and everyone checks that they’re working, giving him a thumbs up. Daisy Johnson looks absolutely delighted to be on a mission with Captain America and Iron Man.

It seems like it’s only minutes before you land. Sam is waiting for you when you get there, and squeezes your shoulder as he passes you to confer quietly with Steve and Tony.

“Alright, we’re going to split up into teams.”

While Steve is talking, you’re barely listening, too focused on trying to concentrate on your newly-discovered bond with Bucky to figure out if he’s alright.

“Don’t get any ideas, Doc.” Tony says to you on his way out the door, tapping the comms device in his ears for emphasis as he goes.

You sigh - you hate being sidelined, even if you know Steve is right - you can’t provide the kind of help that they might need.

“Be careful,” you tell the three of them, plus the SHIELD team.

They go down the ramp quickly, leaving you alone with Simmons and Fitz.

.

Bucky hasn’t really been thankful for his advanced hearing in the short time he’s been fully in control of his faculties, but even in the short time he’s been back with Steve, he’d recognize the sound of a quinjet landing anywhere.

He feels like he’s been knocked over the head with a hammer. His energy has been totally zapped, and he knows he needs to fight, needs to figure out how to get the hell out of here, he just can’t summon the will to get up.

There’s a commotion in the hallway near the room he’s being kept, and when the door finally bursts open, his face falls when he sees Tony Stark.

“Did you disable the power?” Bucky asks immediately, not giving Tony a chance to make what he’s sure was meant to be a dramatic entrance.

“What? No. Why are you on the ground?” Tony asks, irritated, taking a few steps towards Bucky before a now-familiar buzzing fills his ears. Bucky watches, un-amused, as the lights flicker, and Tony freezes, his suit shorting out.

It’s not the same bone-crackling energy that had rendered him virtually useless earlier, but Bucky still grits his teeth at the feeling of it ripping up whatever sensors are left in his metal arm.

“Oh, god dammit.” Tony curses. “Steve is here. He’ll figure it out.”

“They’ve got a device like an EMP. Shorts out everything electrical.” He winces, “Makes me feel like my brain is leaking out of my ears.”

“That’ll mean Wilson down for the count too,” Tony mutters.

Overhead, the lights flicker once more and then they go out entirely. The walls seem to shake with the force of an explosion, and Bucky and Tony barely have a chance to exchange worried glances before they’re plunged into darkness.

.

Inside the quinjet, it feels like an earthquake.

Jemma doesn’t look up. “That’ll be Daisy,” she says casually.

Fitz is frowning. “That didn’t feel like a quake.” He stands, heading over to one of the monitors where he tries to get in touch with the rest of the team. “Daisy? Coulson?”

You try too, pressing your finger against the comms device in your ear. “Steve?”

You get no response, not from him, and not from anyone else. You start to feel dread prickling up your spine, and you surge to your feet, not able to just sit there anymore.

“I have to go help them.”

Simmons looks up at you, “You don’t have any way to defend yourself! If they’re not responding--”

“What, we’re going to just leave them in there?”

Fitz looks like he’s weighing his options. He moves quickly, digging into his backpack. He pulls out his sidearm, thrusting it at you. “You know how to use this?”

You swallow thickly. “Yes.”

“Then let’s go.” He shoulders his backpack, and you tuck the gun into your waistband.

“Fitz!” Simmons protests. “The Captain said to stay here—“

“Tell him it was my idea,” you say. “He can lecture me after we save his life.” You take off down the ramp before either of them can say anything else, but you’re relieved when you hear their footsteps following.

Inside, you’re immediately on edge at the lack of guards. You’ve got your borrowed gun at the ready, Fitz and Simmons silently behind you. “First floor is clear,” you whisper. On a whim, you press your finger to your ears again, just on an off chance. “Can anyone hear me?”

“Daisy!” Simmons exclaims before racing towards a figure slumped against a far wall. “Daisy? Can you hear me?”

Daisy groans, opening her eyes slowly. “Shit. Simmons?”

“What happened? We thought it was you--”

“It was me, but then there was this-- I don’t know. It felt like it was scrambling my brain. Took the power out. I tried to quake a few of the guards, but it knocked me out.”

“It only knocked out the powered people?”

“It shorted out my gloves,” Daisy says, getting to her feet. “It’s like it reversed the energy I was exerting and put it back at me.”

You blanche. “Steve and Bucky.”

Fitz echoes your worry. “Falcon and Iron Man have powered suits. Might have had the same effect on them, too.”

All you can think of is what Bucky might have felt - his arm literally is fused to his nerves - and you’re suddenly angrier than you’ve ever been. Forcing yourself to take a few deep breaths. You have no idea if Bucky’s realized your connection yet, but even if he hasn’t he’s got to be feeling some residual panic. You force yourself to calm down.

“There.” Fitz says suddenly, pointing towards the one room in the building with a light on. You can hear voices inside. “It’s Coulson.”

You walk up to the room slowly, gun drawn, the three SHIELD agents at your back. Peering around the corner, you can hear what almost sounds like a casual conversation between Coulson and some Hydra lunatic.

“-- what exactly is the grand plan? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s four Avengers here.”

The man scoffs. “A lot of good they are, aren’t they!” He laughs, “Captain Rogers here doesn’t look like he’s much up for anything right now.”

You take a deep breath when you see Steve slumped against the doorway. Slowly, you reach down, checking his pulse. Still alive, you reassure yourself.

“So you’ve got a device that can take out inhumans and the enhanced. What comes next?”

“Don’t forget it disables any man-made technology that aids the enhanced. Gives us a much more level playing field.”

“This is boring,” Coulson says, dry. “There’s no grand plan? You kidnapped Bucky Barnes to… what? To get Steve Rogers here? To get SHIELD here? You had to know someone would come.”

“The more Avengers we can take out at once, the better. And once we build this machine to its full potential, we can take out entire countries' worth of inhumans and the enhanced.”

You’ve heard enough. “New plan.” You say firmly, stepping around the corner, gun raised. Your eyes narrow. “Where’s Sergeant Barnes?”

The man looks unruffled. “I assume he’s in the cell where we left him, considering he’s only got one fully functioning arm.”

You glance over your shoulder at Fitz and Simmons. “Figure out a way to power that down.” Daisy stays out of sight, but you appreciate knowing you’ve got at least one superhero at your back. Gun still pointed at the Hydra agent, they hurry around him, analyzing the panels and buttons in front of them.

“I wondered if you’d come too,” the man says. He holds out a hand. “Alex Harrison. We haven’t met yet. Well, not officially.” He smirks, “Seen you around though, with the Asset.”

“He has a name.” You growl.

“Two minutes,” Fitz says, and you’re aware of Coulson reaching for his waistband, too. Behind you, Steve starts to rouse, and you fight off the panic at him immediately springing into action.

“Even if you destroy this machine, the plans won’t be stopped.”

“You talk too much,” Coulson says, lunging forward and hitting Harrison hard with the butt of his gun, sending him collapsing to the ground.

“Why didn’t you do that sooner?” You ask, and he shrugs.

“Had to find out about their evil plan.”

“What-- what are you doing here?” Steve asks groggily.

“Hate to break this up, but we need to find the others.” Daisy says. She looks at you, “Can you tell where he is?”

You concentrate on the bond.

“I’ve got him.”

.

Bucky thinks if he could avoid spending any extended period of time with Tony Stark again, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

“All I’m saying is… have you noticed her?”

He’s been needling Bucky about you for the last half hour, and Bucky’s about had it. “Shouldn’t we be trying to get the hell out of here?”

Tony glares. “Well, considering I can’t move…”

The door to the cell suddenly bursts open, and both Bucky and Tony flinch.

“Took you long enough!” Tony crows at the unfamiliar woman, holding her hand up not unlike Bucky’s seen Tony do.

“Bucky!”

His head snaps up at the sound of your voice. You’re there, in front of him, real and alive, hair escaping your ponytail in tendrils, clad in a bulletproof vest and a pair of jeans that he thinks he’ll be dreaming about for days to come.

Also, a gun.

He’s never pondered the attractiveness of firearms until now.

“This seems backwards,” Bucky says. “I should be the one attempting a daring rescue for you.”

“He’s not good at being grateful,” Tony mutters.

“Sergeant Barnes,” the woman says, interrupting. “I’m Daisy. I’m with SHIELD. It’s an honor to meet you.” She grabs his good arm, hoisting him to his feet.

“Brought the calvary, then?” Bucky asks you, over Daisy’s shoulder.

Daisy snorts. “Actually, yes, but don’t let Agent May hear you say that.”

“We have to go quickly.” You say, moving to Bucky’s side. “Are you hurt anywhere else? What did they--” your voice is getting increasingly panicked, and Bucky stops you.

“I’m okay.” He says softly. “Let’s go.”

Getting both himself and Tony oriented is a struggle as they fight off the effects of the EMP, but out in the corridor, he finds the rest of the team including Wilson and Steve congregating. He fights not to notice the way you stay close to his side, close enough to touch.

“How did you find me?” Bucky asks Steve.

Steve glances at you. “It’s a long story.”

Outside, on the quinjet, you busy yourself checking everyone for injuries and any signs of trauma from the Hydra device. You’re in your element, and Bucky can’t take his eyes off you.

He realizes how close he came to being done for. If not for the quickness of the team - however they found him - and for the fact that the trigger words don’t work anymore, he would have been lights out without ever telling you that he thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

They land quickly, promising the SHIELD agents a chance to rest up at Stark Tower before they head back to their base.

You head to the infirmary with Bucky, whose arm is still shorted out.

“Let’s see if we can’t get you back up and running, okay, Sergeant?” Your smile is gentle.

“Yes ma’am.”

He watches you work, watches the way your forehead creases as you concentrate and the way you have tiny flecks of light in your eyes.

He wonders if you’ve got someone. You’ve never mentioned it, and he doesn’t think he’s imagining all these little moments the two of you have had together. There’s the matter of the mark. He hasn’t seen if you have one. He’s put off thinking about his own - or the lack thereof - for… decades.

He decides he doesn’t care. Not when you’re smiling at him like that, and indulging his bad jokes, and making him feel like he’s a normal person, not someone to be afraid of.

“Do you have plans tomorrow?” He blurts.

You look startled. “Uh-- no, I don’t think so.”

“Do you want to go out?” He takes a minute to relish in the surprised look on your face. “With me?”

A myriad of emotions flash across your face. One he doesn’t expect to see is sadness. It makes a lead weight settle in his stomach.

“Bucky…”

He’s afraid of what you’re going to say. He finds himself rushing to reassure you. “It’s not-- it doesn’t have to be anything serious. I just-- I want to spend time with you. Just us.”

You’re so still. It doesn’t track with anything he knows about you - the way you’re always moving, always taking care of everyone else.

“You want to go out with me?” You manage. “Like, a date?”

He smiles. “Yeah, like a date.”

“You want to go out on a date with me?” You ask him again, and he laughs, unable to believe that he has to explain why he thinks you’re so extraordinary.

“I’ve felt a connection with you since the minute we met. I can’t explain it, but it’s true. And the way you burst in there to rescue me, all guns and glory…” a wry smile twists his mouth. “How was I supposed to not want you?”

“Oh, Bucky.” You say, watery through your tears. But you’re smiling now, which is a far sight better than when he thought you were horrified by the prospect of being with him romantically.

He continues, feeling a burst of confidence. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done this, so I’m sorry if I’m out of practice. I just-- I feel like I know you. I need you to know that even if-- if we’re not soulmates, even if you don’t believe in that shit, I still want you. I don’t see that changing any time soon.” Bucky’s voice is filled with conviction, and he watches as tears pool in your eyes and start to spill over. “Oh, honey, no.” He reaches for you, but stops halfway. “Don’t cry. I’ll-- what do you need? If you need me to fuck off and never be seen again, I know a guy who can make that happen,” he says, trying to lighten the mood.

A choked sob leaves your mouth, but now you’re smiling, so Bucky takes it as a good sign, though he’s still terrified you’re going to turn tail and leave him standing here. “What is it? Why are you-- please don’t cry.”

You don’t say anything, but it happens almost in slow motion. You lift up your left arm and slowly push up the sleeve, and start to take off your watch. Underneath, in faded black ink, is a vine of ivy, trailing around your delicate wrist, small leaves dotting your veins.

His entire world stops. He’s speechless. He has absolutely no idea what to say. His brain is just screaming, you belong to her, you belong to her over and over again.

“I knew I was yours, but I thought that you didn’t belong to me.” You’re saying. “I-- I didn’t want to trap you, I--.”

“Why would you think that?” His voice cracks.

You look confused. “You don’t have a mark, Buck, I’m your doctor, I saw your arm--”

“My left arm.” His voice is hoarse.

“What?”

“My mark was on my left arm. It showed up in 1934, before the war, before… everything.”

The air whooshes from the room.

“What did it look like?” You ask timidly.

He smiles, stepping closer. “Why don’t you tell me?” He takes your hand, slowly, like he’s afraid he’s going to spook you.

“If this is a joke--”

“I would never joke about this.” He says, hoarse. “I got my mark when I was seventeen years old, and all I thought about for years was finding my match.” Feeling braver, he reaches forward, cupping your face in his palm. “They took that from me,” he says. “Kind of fitting the one to rescue me from Hydra was also the one to bring my mark back to me, right?”

You laugh, a little choked through your tears, and he leans down, tracing the pattern he knows so well with his fingertips on his good hand. “There’s a pale pink flower,” he whispers, looking you dead in the eyes. “Right about here.” His thumb presses lightly at the crook of your elbow, where you know a flower sits.

“It’s how I found you.” You tell him, and the pieces start to click into place. “I dreamed about you, but I think it was more of a vision.”

“You were the one to realize I’d been taken?” He asks, feeling his heart squeeze. “Jesus.”

“Called Steve in the middle of the night. Demanded he listen to me and he came to get me from SHIELD.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he says, a smile growing on his face. “In a good way,” he adds. Then, quieter, “I’ve dreamed of you too.” He whispers.

You’re both quiet for a few minutes. “What do we do now?” You ask, and he shrugs.

“Don’t know. I haven’t done this before.” HIs eyes are filled with mirth.

“Oh… you-- shut up.”

He grins - he has a feeling riling you up is going to be one of his favorite pastimes.

“Let me get your arm up and running, and then we’ll talk.” You eye him carefully. “I might have to get Tony for the hardwiring.”

Bucky lets his head drop back as he groans. “Anyone but him.”

You cackle delightedly. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

He brightens at the use of the endearment. He feels - it’s a dream. Seventy years of waiting, and somehow, in the back of his mind, he knew you were different the minute he met you.

He knows you have a lot to talk about - a lot to decide, a lot to work through. He feels almost invincible, though, especially after thinking for so long that he would never find his match if he didn’t have his mark anymore. He still can’t fathom how he got so lucky for it to be you.

.

You feel like you’re walking on clouds for the rest of the day. After some good-natured ribbing from the team, and from SHIELD - you promised to stay in touch with them, if only to convince Steve and Tony to come around and start working with them again; you quite like Phil Coulson - they mostly leave you and Bucky alone.

You hole up in his apartment for nearly the entire day, talking about everything you can think of. Your childhood, his childhood, even the rough parts that make his voice catch and harden… you sit right there and hold his hand through it.

You can almost feel your bond like a living, breathing thing now. It’s electric when the two of you touch, something that you’d always noticed but tried not to put any weight on.

Now, it seems so obvious.

He kisses you goodnight. It sends a flare of heat through you and nearly makes you dizzy, and you want him to do it again as soon as it ends.

He reminds you that you’ve got a lifetime to sort out what this all means.

A lifetime with Bucky Barnes sounds like a dream.

You can’t wait.

[ariana-winchester95]

The Hard Way (Smut)

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Warnings: sub!Jimin, ruined orgasm, begging, use of handcuffs, use of a vibrator, male chastity

Once inside the door to our shared apartment, I slammed Jimin against the wall. Sliding down the wall he spread his legs letting me stand between them, allowing us to be eye to eye. His hands gripped my waist as I started trailing wet kisses up and down his neck, leaving tiny bruises in my wake.

“You’re in trouble, baby boy.” I whispered in his ear, relishing in the way his body shuddered in anticipation.

I started sucking his sweet spot just under his ear, causing his body to roll against mine and the smallest of gasps to fall from him parted lips. His eyes fluttering shut as his head fell back against the wall. My hands wandered into Jimin’s hair, pulling on the soft strands as I trailed my lips along his jaw. I pushed my thigh right next to his caged cock, letting him feel only the slightest of sensations, causing a breathy gasp to tumble through the air. Acting quick, I pressed my lips firmly to his, not giving him any time to kiss back before I pulled away. Chuckling as I shook my head, hearing Jimin whine as he chased after my lips. Placing his arms around my neck, I moved my hands down to the backs of his thighs. Jimin only had to jump a fraction, before I carefully held him up in my arms, his legs locking behind my back.

“My strong noona.” Jimin beamed, taking his opportunity to run a hand over my arm, admiring the small back strong muscle on my bicep as I walked us towards our bedroom.

“Flattery is going to get you nowhere tonight, Minie,” I warned, placing a firm smack to his arse, causing his body to falter his head falling to my shoulder.

I placed Jimin down on to the floor, detangling his legs from my waist, his arms moving to circle me. My own hands moving to his cheeks, bringing his face down to meet my lips in a soft kiss.

“Strip for me,” I ordered softly, my lips brushing over his, before withdrawing myself from his grasp and sitting on the edge of the bed.

He started pulling off his shirt, slowly, his gaze never wavering from mine. His shirt now discarded somewhere behind him, he started on his belt buckle. He was taking his sweet time pulling the leather through the belt loops, I almost ordered him to move faster, if I wasn’t drinking in his naked torso. He then tugged the leather harshly pulling it straight out and out of sight, causing my jaw to drop slightly. I pulled my bottom lip watching him now make a show of this, running his down his chest to the top of his jeans, swaying his hips as he slowly undid the button and zipper.

Turning to his side, he started pushing the denim down his strong legs. Bending at the hips to push the fabric down to his ankles, showcasing his flexibility. Slowly rising to an upright position he kicked his jeans off his feet and kicking them elsewhere. Turning his back to me, he pushed his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs, he turned back to look at me over his shoulder before doing the same thing as he did with the jeans. My eyes followed his every move, took in every bit of skin revealed to me. Standing back up, he turned around.

“Good boy. Come here and lay on the bed.” I instructed, patting the mattress. With a small smile at my praise, he followed my order situating himself comfortably on the mattress.

I got up from the bed and walked to the chest of drawers. Opening the bottom drawer, I pulled out his favourite bondage toy; fluffy, pink handcuffs. I could see the excitement flicker in his eyes when I turned around, the pink handcuffs dangling off my finger.

“Are you ready, baby boy?” I asked softly, dragging the handcuffs lightly over his skin as I walked towards the top of the bed, watching the goosebumps rise on his skin as he wriggled from the tickling sensation.

“Yes, noona.” His voice was breathless like he’d ran a marathon before falling on the bed to catch his breath. “I’m ready.”

“Arms up,” I spoke, and no sooner did he place his arms, stretched above his head. “Good boy.” I praised.

I secured a cuff around one wrist before lopping the other end around a bar and securing the last cuff onto the other wrist. He tugged firmly on them as a test before I could even ask the question.

“Such a good boy, baby.” I cooed, running a finger lightly over his jaw, leaning in close. “Now, be an extra good boy and rest here a bit.”

Not giving him a second glance, I left his side, hearing the frustrate whine fill the bedroom as I moved out of his eyesight. I took my time walking into the living room, tidying up our long-forgotten shoes before making my way into the kitchen. Having a glass of water and biscuit, I then opened a drawer and pulled out a candy cane. Closing the drawer, I slowly made my way back into the bedroom. Jimin’s whines got louder, seeing my body now ridden of everything but my panties and bra. I paid him no mind, grabbing my phone and then sitting on the bed next to him, close but not close enough to touch. I started scrolling through Facebook, looking but not paying attention to anything and chewing on the candy cane.

“Please, noona.” He soft, broken voice rasped, as he watched me suck on the now straight candy cane. Pulling on the handcuffs to steal my attention from the tiny screen. He let out a strangled groan when I didn’t give what he wanted. He’d been wanting attention the whole night and he wasn’t going to get it easily.

His whines and groans got progressively frequent, the rattling of the handcuffs annoyingly loud. His whole body writhed and wiggled, I can hear him turning his from side to side and every so often his leg would hit my foot.

“What’s wrong, Minie?” I asked, my voice muffled by the last bit of the candy cane completely in my mouth, and not bothering to look away from the tiny screen in my hand, only making him groan louder.

“Want you to touch me, noona,” he begged, pulling on the handcuffs in frustration. “Please.” He added, voice barely above a whisper.

“Give me a reason why.” I quipped, hearing a squeaky whine of defeat. Still not taking my eyes off the post I’ve read 4 times now.

“I’ve been a good boy.” He stated, catching my attention. I snapped my gaze to his and clicked my tongue.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” I stated, turning my phone off and placing it on the bedside table,  “If you were a good boy, you wouldn’t have gone looking for attention by strangers at the bar now would you?”

I rolled to my side, using my hand as support my eyes took in his already fucked out stated. Looking so pretty laying there, stripped down to nothing, hands restrained to the bed frame. His chest rising with quick, shallow breaths, small whines muffled by biting his plush bottom lip. His cock red and angry, within the cage he’s been in nearing 2 weeks, with plenty up frustrations of not being able to cum. My eyes followed the path of my fingertips, lightly tracing up and down the length of his torso.

“Please noona, I didn’t mean too.” Jimin pleads, trying to shift his body away from me, as I ran my nails over his soft skin. “I want you” he added softly, breathlessly.

“You want me?” I paused, letting him nod. His eyes full of desperation, plush lip caught between his teeth. “If you wanted me, you could have come straight to me and we wouldn’t have to go through this. Instead, you paraded yourself around the bar.” I continued, leaning in closer, taking my wandering hand to his cheek.

“I’m sorry, noona, I made a mistake.” He declared, his hooded eyes never wavering away from my stern gaze.

“You did, baby boy, and now you’re going to cum” Swinging a leg over his stomach, back facing him, I looked over my shoulder to his surprised gaze. “On my terms, as punishment.”

Running my fingertips lightly over his firm thighs, I watched as they quivered. He sucked in a breath as my fingers got closer to his aching dick, and then let out a helpless cry as my fingers moved further away.

“Please just touch me, noona!” He cried, pulling fiercely on the handcuffs. I was sure that if I was to look behind me, he would look so pretty; eyes screwed shut, whines and moans slipping from his plush lips and hair everywhere. I smoothed my hands over his thighs, massaging the muscles, the clammy skin pulling witty my movements.

“I am touching you baby.” I sang, bringing my hands incredibly close to his cock, but not giving him the satisfaction of being touched just yet.

“Touch me more. It hurts!” Jimin almost screamed, kicking his legs and trying to raise his hips but I held them down with my weight.

“What hurts, Minie?” I asked, running my hands down to his shins slowly.

“My dick, please noona.” His voice came out croaky, all the groaning gasps, now showing their mark on his throat.

“You have such a pretty cock, Minie.” I teased sweetly, tracing feather-light lines over him. He groaned trying to raise his hips, searching for more friction. “So red and angry, all caged up. Just begging to be touched. Begging for a release.”

“Do you want me to make it better, baby?” I asked softly, taking my hands off him and placing them back on his thighs.

“Yes, please!” He sobbed, kicking his legs again, making me giggle a bit. “Please, make it better, noona!”

“Such a pity it won’t happen soon.” I taunted, leaning over to open a drawer of a bedside table, pulling out a bullet vibrator. A small, strangled whine sounded behind me letting me know he saw what I had.

Putting the vibrator in my mouth, I swirled my younger around it a few times, coating it in my saliva. I turned it on once I released it from my mouth, and brought the small bullet to Jimin’s caged cock. Running it up and down over his length, and balls. Jimin’s cry’s came out loud and frequent, hips bobbing up and down. I brought the bullet to the head of his cock, staying there until his moans turned to screams.  He let out a grunt as I took the vibrator away, letting him catch his breath before repeating the same action a few more times.

“Close, noona.” He whispered between small gasps,  “Please, may I cum?”

“No.” Jimin squealed like he was a little boy, getting told to do their homework. His body thrashed, rattles of the handcuffs

“You just couldn’t wait a few more hours, could you. You would have been out of this cage and came by now.” I reminded, bringing the small bullet to the head of his cock again, “But you chose the wrong way out, baby boy.”

“I-I’m sorry, noona.” He gasped, his whole body seemed to then shut down, completely spent, yet nearing his release. “P-please can I cum, n-noona?” Jimin stuttered.

“How bad do you want it, baby boy?” I questioned, circling the bullet around his caged tip.

“So bad, noona. I’m your good boy, please let me cum.” Using what was left of his energy, his body started writhing again.

“You may cum, baby” I granted, taking the bullet away, turning it off, as soon as his orgasm hit. Jimin released a strangled cry, as his back arched up, I watched as he expelled ropes of cum onto his thighs.

I rolled off Jimin, placing the little vibrator back in its place, listening to his heavy breaths as he came down from his high. I got up from the bed, retreating the bathroom to grab a damp washcloth. Returning, I ran the cloth over his thighs ridding him of his cum before I placed myself on Jimin’s thighs, leaning over him to remove the handcuffs. I softly placed kisses upon his red-banded wrist and placed a soft kiss upon hips parted lips before sitting back up. I made quick but careful work of removing the cage from his cock, Jimin hissing every so often from the over-stimulation and then releasing a relieved sigh, once freed from the cage.

“Feel better?” I asked, putting the chastity cage away, Jimin could only nod, his energy drained.

“You did so well, Bub.” I praised, running a clean area of the cloth over Jimin’s forehead, as he smiled.

Discharging the cloth on the bedside table, I laid down next to Jimin, resting my head on his chest, and wrapping an arm around his waist. Jimin’s arm sluggishly wrapped itself around my waist, slowly rubbing up and down. We rested like that for what felt like minutes, but it was only second before Jimin’s voice filled our silence.

“Noona?”

“Yes, baby.” I replied, looking up at his concerned gaze.

“You didn’t cum.” He stated.

“I don’t need too.” I protested, shaking my head. “Save that for the morning, when you’re well rested, Minie.” I added sweetly.

“Okay, noona.” He agreed. “Goodnight.” Jimin added, voice muffled as he pressed his lips to my cheek.

“Night,” I whispered, cuddling into his chest, “love you baby.”

“Love you too, noona.”

Taglist: @alternateafterthought | @haven-raven012591 | @mitzwinchester

[dal3ks]

the project

pairing: peter parker x female reader 

word count: 3.2k

warnings: smut, cursing, teasing, coaxing, pet names, mentions to anatomy, marking, oral(receiving), both characters are of age! 

a/n: this was a fic i had posted on my main account @a-dorin​, but i am in the process of switching over content so that it is a strictly star wars account! just a disclaimer, i am not plagiarizing or stealing content, as this is my fic!

"today i have an exciting announcement," your chemistry teacher gushed, "since we are right on track for the unit, we will be taking a slight detour in our lesson plans. this whole week, we will be learning all about human chemistry!"

the class groaned, and you turned around to your best friend, nova, "how fucking lame."

she winked at you, "it'll be fun."

"so, to kick off this unit, we will be conducting a project on chemical reactions in the human body. i know you all have lab partners, but to make it fun, i will be drawing names out of a cup. everyone's name is on a slip of paper. i will begin drawing names right now, then we will discuss some of the parameters of the project," your teacher continued, a wide smile on his face.

drawing in a sigh, you glanced around the entirety of the room. m.j., one of your close friends, looked intrigued, as she was sitting next to your best friend, nova. flash looked disgusted, while peter and ned both grimaced to one another.

a part of you was hoping you would be paired up with your high school crush, peter parker. ever since the first semester of your freshman year, you had been attracted to him. he had bumped into you in the hallway between seventh and eighth period, knocking your coffee out of your hand. he apologized profusely, even handing you a ten dollar bill for the next coffee run. ever since then, you wanted to get to know the shy boy.

peter was guarded. extremely guarded. his awkward demeanor didn't help at all. anytime you asked him the simplest question, he got flustered, red-faced and stuttered. part of you wondered if it was because he just wasn't a people person, or if it was because he liked you. 

both of you guys had made small exchanges since that encounter, whether it was greeting one another in the hallway, sharing a seat on a bus ride, or giving one another snacks in class. since m.j. was within your friend group, you did get to see peter some, as they were mutual friends.

every girl at your high school adored peter. he was charismatic, charming, and was passionate about his friends and school. also, who was ever offered the opportunity to work alongside tony stark? that was another aspect you adored about peter. whenever you guys did chat, it was usually a vivid, funny story about peter's internship with stark industries. his stories made you laugh every time.

even though peter was short, he was taller than you. his floppy brown curls had all of the girls drooling. his smile was radiant, and his body was amazing. you had snuck glances during gym class. the boy was extremely fit. you figured it was due to his internship with stark industries, or maybe the boy just liked to work out. regardless, his body was extremely attractive.

"(y/n) (l/n)," your chemistry teachers voice rang out, snapping you out of your thoughts, "you will be paired with... peter parker."

you widened your eyes, surprised at what you were hearing. glancing over at peter, you realized he looked just as surprised as you were. even though the class had "random" partners, the chemistry teacher usually paired you up with your friends.

after the teacher finished assigning partners, he cleared his throat, "all right everyone! please sit next to your partner while i hand out the rubrics. m.j., can you please help me pass out the papers?"

peter slid into the seat next to you, clearing his throat, "well, i guess we're partners."

"i don't mind it one bit," you flashed him a wide smile.

"so i'm not entirely sure what this project is," peter mumbled, his eyes focused on the table.

m.j. handed us the rubrics, "i'm not sure if you listened to the entire lecture, dipshit. the project is over chemical reactions in the human body."

peter looked sheepish, "yeah, i got that part. but is there anything in the rubric that states that we need to do?"

"i'm sure it's all in the rubric," m.j. smiled sweetly.

you slid peter a rubric for the project, "hey, i'm really sorry if i'm not ned."

"it's cool," he shrugged, obviously in distress. ned was paired with nova, and they were already working on their project, taking notes.

"how about i give you my number?" you inquired, sliding your phone out of your hoodie pocket, "and you come over tonight so we can get a head start?"

"that sounds good," he nodded, taking your phone and typing the number into his phone, "how about i call you when i'm on my way?"

you smiled, eagerly taking the phone back, "that works. i'm home alone tonight, so even better."

peter blushed, just nodding, "i'll call you later then when i'm on my way."

the bell rang, signifying the end of the period. luckily chemistry was your last class of the day. you walked home, bubbly that peter was coming over tonight. once you arrived home, you took a hot shower, shaved your legs, put on lotion, and threw on some clothes. since it was fall, you opted for an over sized hoodie, paired with black leggings. you sprayed your favorite perfume, ensured your skin looked good, and threw on mascara.

once you were all ready, you straightened up your room. you made your bed, throwing some stuffed animals in the closet. peter never told you a time he would come over, but you assumed it would be later in the evening. by the time you finished cleaning the house, it was about seven thirty-eight. you sighed, a feeling of distress creeping over you. what if peter didn't want to come over? what if he stood you up?

a knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. you fluffed your hair, opening the door. there, stood peter, with a white paper bag in his hand, a two liter of cherry coke in the other, "hey, can i come in?"

"of course," he stepped in, setting his book bag near the door, "what did ya bring me?"

he smiled slightly, "oh, my aunt went down to this deli and picked us up some subs and this soda."

"well," you began, "i'm not too hungry right now. maybe we could start on our project, and eat later?"

"okay," he handed you the bag, "you probably know where to put this."

you took it from him, "yeah, the kitchen is just this way. follow me."

"your house is so nice," peter breathed as he followed you, his voice low.

"thank you," you placed the bag in the fridge, taking the two liter from his hand, "you can thank my dad for that. he remodeled the whole house."

"he did an excellent job," peter peered at the kitchen, his brown eyes taking in the granite island, "this looks like somewhere tony stark would live."

you giggled, "it's not that nice."

"it's nice," he nodded enthusiastically, "your dad must be a genius. like a interior design genius."

"honestly he had this idea for a while," you felt myself smile again, "he just acted on it and made it happen. do you wanna head up to my room?"

peter's eyes widened, and he rubbed the back of his neck, "i mean, yeah, we can do that. for sure."

you had him follow you upstairs to your room, guiding him. once you were in the room, he marveled at all of the posters, polaroids, and lights plastered on the walls. you sat down on the floor, grabbing your laptop. peter sat down next to you, biting his lip anxiously.

"oh shit," he mumbled, "i forgot my laptop downstairs."

"don't worry about it," you placed your hand on top of his, "we just need to do a little bit of research anyways. i was thinking maybe we could just do an oral presentation? or we could do PowerPoint. whatever you wanna do."

"okay," you were sure peter's lip would start bleeding if he chewed it even more than he already was.

as you both locked eyes, you noticed that he had a slight cut on his right cheekbone. you frowned, feeling yourself instinctively place your hand on his cheek, the pad of your thumb gently caressing it. he flinched at your touch, but kept looking at you.

"what happened? you didn't have that earlier today in class." the words tumbled out of your mouth, and you immediately felt nosy for asking.

"oh," he stuttered, "i ran into the door frame at the apartment on my way over here. i guess i was a little excited."

"excited to see me?" you raised a brow, feeling heat rush into your cheeks. a blush spread into your cheeks, and you immediately wanted to cover up your face.

"well," peter shifted nervously, "i mean, i didn't want to be too late, and i heard how you were going to be alone so i didn't want you to be alone, and yeah. um, yeah, i was excited to see you tonight."

you scooted closer to him, and his shyness began to dissolve, as he allowed you to continue to hold his face. you could almost feel his waves of anxiety radiating off of him. he was extremely nervous but you didn't know what about.

"peter," your voice was soft, "are you okay?"

his eyes met yours, “i kinda want to tell you something."

"and that is?" you bit my lip.

"i like you, like a lot. i mean, god you're so beautiful. all of the guys at school talk about you and jesus. i probably act like a fucking idiot all the time around you but god i like you so much. i even ran into the door frame because i was so excited to see you. and maybe you don't like me either but i just can't help but be nervous. i just care about you so much. you're so beautiful. like really really beautiful." all of the words tumbling out of his mouth sounded sincere. his cheeks were burning crimson with embarrassment.

"peter," you murmured, your face dangerously close to his. his bottom lip was swollen from him biting it earlier, "i have feelings for you too."

peter sighed with relief, "that makes me so happy."

"what's our project about again?" your hands felt for your laptop, and you pulled it closer to you two.

"chemical reactions in humans," peter answered, not breaking his gaze away from mine, "i have an idea for research since we haven't found a specific topic yet."

"and that is?" you raised an inquisitive brow.

he scooped you into his arms, laying you on your back on the bed. his lips met yours, kissing you eagerly. you pressed your lips against his, kissing him back, surprised at his rush of confidence. his tongue entered your mouth, the kisses becoming more and more hungry. peter's callused hands roamed your body under your hoodie, making contact with your skin. you shivered, goosebumps covering your body.

peter pulled back for a second, "is this okay?"

kissing him gently, you gave an answer against his lips, "yes, this is more than okay. it's amazing."

his lips pressed against your neck, sucking slightly. you knew there would be hickeys in the morning. you ran your hands through his hair, tugging lightly. he pressed his body against yours, and you could feel his hard on through his joggers. as he kissed down your neck, you palmed him through the fabric. he groaned against your neck, whining slightly.

peter motioned you to sit up, and you obeyed. his gentle fingers slipped the hoodie off your top half. a part of you wondered if he had done this with any other girl before. he slipped off his own shirt, revealing his toned chest and abs. you felt a slight wave of insecurity washing over you, you weren't as near as fit as he was.

peter seemed to sense the shift in your mood, kissing your chest, "stop. you're beautiful. god, i need all of you."

you undid the clasp on your lace nude bralette, letting it fall onto the floor beside the bed. peter widened his eyes, grasping each one of your breasts in his hands. he squeezed gently, unsure of what to do next. his eyes met yours, full of lust. his bottom lip was slightly swollen from the kissing, and his pupils were dilated.

his mouth latched onto your breasts, giving each one of them an equal amount of attention. you laced your fingers into his hair, tugging harder this time as peter sucked, kissed, and licked all over your chest and breasts. the actions were driving you crazy. you could feel how wet you were, even with your leggings still on. as peter continued, you let out a small moan.

"what princess?" peter's voice was husky, "tell me what you want."

"i want you," you whined, "i want you so bad."

"mmm," he hummed, "that's not specific enough, baby. tell me exactly what you want."

"i want your touch so bad," your voice was edged with desire.

"yeah?" his voice was low.

you nodded eagerly, "i need you to touch me."

"as you wish princess," his lips pressed against yours gently.

peter's lips trailed down your stomach, leaving sloppy kisses. he stopped at the waistband of your leggings, his fingers hooking the fabric. he slipped your leggings off, his cheeks tinged red at the sight of your black lace thong.

"are you sure you're ready for it, princess?" peter's eyes met yours.

you bit your lip, nodding. god, he was so hot like this. his fingers delicately took your thong off, casting it to the floor. he took a second to let his eyes roam your body, savoring every inch of it. you felt peter's tongue immediately connect itself to your clit, going in slow, circular motions. you gripped his head, pressing his face into your thighs. that only encouraged him, as he began to suck on your clit. he inserted a finger inside of you, pumping it in and out.

"god," he groaned, "you taste so good baby."

"you're going to make me cum," you moaned, your cheeks hot and jaw slack. even though you had received oral before, peter was by far the best you ever had.

his tongue slowly licked up, taking in all of your pussy. he fingered you, making a hook with his two fingers. you could feel tension building up in you, driving you crazy. your orgasm was coming soon, and peter showed no signs of slowing down. peter wanted nothing more to do this all night if he could.

"you're close aren't you?" peter's breath was hot, "c'mon princess, you're almost there."

he sucked on your clit, squeezing one of your breasts in his hand. his fingers pulled on your nipple, and you felt yourself come undone. your loud moans filled the room, and peter gripped your thighs to keep you on the bed. he licked you until your thighs stopped trembling. once he was finished, he glanced up at you, his cheeks flushed.

you took his hand, sucking on his two fingers. he bit his lip, letting out a small sigh, "i told you that you tasted good."

your eyes drifted down at the sight of his hard on through his joggers. your hand palmed him through the fabric, and pleasure washed over him.

"hey peter," you murmured, "did you bring any condoms?"

his face reddened, "no, i, um. i have some, but not with me."

your fingers latched themselves on the waistband of his joggers, slowly gliding down his legs. he was still hard, his skin hot and his face flushed. his breath hitched in his throat as you pulled down his boxers, your hand wrapping around the base of his cock.

"peter," your eyes met his, "please fuck me."

he almost came at the sound of your words, the innocence in your tone. he pushed you on your back, kissing you hungrily. you felt his tip on your clit, and you let out a small whine.

"what princess?" his voice made the room ten times hotter, "tell me what you want."

"i want you," you whined, your pleas desperate, "i need you to fuck me so bad."

his cock entered you, and you let out a moan of pleasure. peter started with slow, rhythmic strokes, and you could feel all of him as he did so. as he fucked you, you placed wet kisses all over his toned chest and neck.

"you feel so good," peter groaned, his ears burning red. his eyes met yours, and you felt another wave of pleasure wash over you.

peter's lips met yours, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. there was a slight sheen of sweat on his skin, along with yours. he intensified his pace, your nails digging into his shoulder blades as he fucked you senseless. his shyness was now stripped away from him, and you loved it. you loved this moment and everything going on between you so goddamn much.

"i'm gonna cum," peter moaned. he pulled out, finishing on your stomach.

his eyes met yours once again, and you both laid there, taking in the moment. peter's lips met yours for a gentle kiss.

"i'll go grab something to clean this up with," you murmured, about to get up.

"no, you stay here," peter instructed, "just tell me where the bathroom is and i will grab a towel or something."

you gave in, telling peter where the bathroom was. he slipped on his boxers and joggers, and then went to on the search for a towel. he came back, carefully cleaning you up.

hopping off you bed, you grabbed a hoodie, throwing it on, "that was amazing."

he gave you a cheeky smile, "i just wanted to conduct some research."

"and what conclusions did you draw?" you giggled as you searched for a new pair of underwear.

"that one," he began, "you taste good. two, you have a beautiful body. and three, i cannot wait to do that again, baby."

you slipped on new thong, then found a pair of joggers, "how about we just forget the project for the rest of the night then?"

peter scooped you into his arms on the bed, cuddling you, "i don't think that's a bad idea. it's not due for another two weeks anyways."

you pressed your lips against his shoulder, "we'll be alone for another few hours anyways."

"sounds like there's going to be a round two soon then," he chuckled, "by the way, i hope i wasn't bad or anything. it was kind of my first time doing stuff like that."

you felt yourself gasp, "there's no way."

"i was a virgin before tonight so," he murmured, slightly embarrassed.

"don't be shy about it," you gave him a chaste kiss, "it's not something to be ashamed of."

"well maybe i will become experienced enough tonight and we can do our project about human chemistry during sex," peter teased.

"in your dreams, geek," you rolled your eyes playfully, and you felt his lips gently brush against your cheek.

you felt yourself collapse into his arms, feeling a slight wave of exhaustion overwhelm you. his fingers traced your back under the hoodie, and you allowed yourself to close your eyes, content to be in the arms of your boy.

if only you got to spend every night like this with peter.

******

[rohondra]

Firsts || Izuku Midoriya

a/n: this is for another bnharem discord collab!! the prompt was “Pen Pals”. I’m pretty content with how this came out and I’m super excited to write a bit more considering I got a computer!! I’m hoping to do a pt2 hehe. god bless the people in my haikyuu server who swooped in and saved the day every time I had a brain far. 

rating: n*fw 18+

word count: just over 2k

warnings: virgin!Reader, daddy kink yes again ok I have a problem, FaceTime sex, mutual masturbation, big buff Izuku

all characters are aged up when I write and I take no credit for the images I post w said writings unless stated otherwise.

PLEASE CHECK OUT EVERYONES AMAZING FICS FOR THIS COLLAB!!!

A notification from the S.H.I.E.L.D. Field Office Discord server you were a part of popped up on your phone. It was an announcement that they would be randomly selecting pen pals as an event to get people more connected during this pandemic, of course you had the option to opt out, but the idea of doing something so “risky” excited you. You held your breath and reacted with a thumbs up, butterflies instantly flooding your stomach.

Just under an hour later one of the admins sent you a pm;

-Hey! Thanks so much for joining our penpals event. Social distancing is a pain in the ass, but hopefully this will lighten your spirits! We paired you with @/izuku#2485. Xx

Being the nosy son of a bitch you were, you immediately typed his user into the server and checked his activity within it- specifically the “#pictures” channel, but found nothing. Just as you were about to send him a friend request, you got a notification of another pm.. Oddly enough from him;

-Hi, we got paired for the penpal event! It’s okay if you don’t want to send your address to a complete stranger, I get it haha.

The butterflies returned as you pressed the request button, and immediately saw it change from “pending” to “send message”.

~Hi! If I’m honest it’s just my college address lol, nothing too risky.

-College huh? Me too. I was afraid you were going to end up being a minor and then I’d feel kind of weird ha. What school?

~Do not fear, I am in fact legal. Even if it is by 8 months lol. ASU! Yourself?

-Arizona huh? Interesting, I’m actually finishing my senior year at Iowa State.

Your stomach flipped, anxiety coursing through your veins at the last message. Senior?! What if this guy was like, 40?? No, it couldn’t be. He wouldn’t be living on campus at that age.. But he never specified he was living in a dorm. You closed Discord and moved onto what seemed to be the never ending flood of assignments, two of which were due that night.

A notification popped up on your computer mid essay;

-Don’t wanna be pushy. Here’s my address if you decide to write me.(:

You chewed at your bottom lip, weighing the consequences. It couldn’t be that bad of an idea right? He seemed nice, not pervy at all.. Fuck it.

“Hello! It’s your good old pal from the Marvel server. If I'm honest I'm not that good at these things, haha. This letter will be pretty short, but tell me- who’s your favorite Marvel character? Feel free to gush! I’m looking forward to hearing back from you.

From,

Y/N”

-

Two weeks later your RA slipped the envelope under your door, “MAIL!!!” she yelled before hurrying to the next room to deliver. Your heart fluttered as you opened it, admiring his clean handwriting;

“Hi. Alls good, I’m pretty awkward myself ha. My name is Izuku Midoriya! My friends call me Deku. Y/N is a nice name.

Honestly, it’s kind of cliche but Captain America has to be my favorite. I’m a bit of a Marvel junkie. I’ve seen every movie, have the entire Captain America comic series, own a Marvel Encyclopedia, plus almost every Marvel funko pop they’ve released.. Now that I think of it I’m definitely more than “a bit” obsessed ha. How about you? If it’s easier for you, you could just message me on discord.

-Izuku”

You giggled as you opened the app on your phone.

~Hi! I just got your letter. Seems to me you’re DEFINITELY obsessed lol but that’s okay, me too. I’m obsessed with Captain America. Chris Evans? *cheff kiss*”

-Hey. That’s so funny! I aspire to look like him one day haha. Taking it one day at a time, but this pandemic is making it difficult rip. You wanna add me on snapchat? I probably came off as some creepy perv ha. @/deku_zuku.”

From that point on, you two became OBSESSED with each other. Deku was an extremely gorgeous, freckled man with colored, fluffy green hair. You thought your sleep schedule was already fucked because of the pandemic? Sike, now it really was. You were staying up until 5am snapchatting him, interacting with him on discord, texting him, etc. You just couldn’t get enough of each other.

Your favorite snapchats from him were his post workout selfies. You loved the way his skin glistened, his muscular body littered in scars and freckles. More often than not you screenshot them and definitely got off to them, but you could never tell him that. It was embarassing to think about how most nights you laid in bed pumping a dildo inside of yourself desperately calling his name, imagining it was him fucking your tight virgin pussy.

As you were getting lost in imagining scenarios your phone began ringing, oh fuck he was FaceTimeing you.

You quickly sat up, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and setting your phone against a book for support before answering.

“H-hi! Sorry I wasn’t expecting you to FaceTime me ha.”

Izuku grinned ear to ear, “No I’m sorry! I should’ve asked first, but you look great so I mean.. No complaints from me with how you look.”

Red tinted your cheeks, “A-ah thank you. You’re pretty good looking yourself.”

Izuku’s eyes narrowed, “Did I catch you at uh- a bad time?”

You tilted your head in confusion, “No? I mean I was trying to catch up on some stuff but other than I wasn’t doing anything important.”

“Ha, that looks pretty important. You also look a little flushed.”

When your eyes followed his on your screen your cheeks immediately lit on fire and you shifted to cover the dildo you carelessly left on the parallel night stand.

“So that’s why you’ve been screenshotting my pictures huh? I never would’ve taken Y/n to be such a slut.” he smirked.

He could feel his cock begin weep at the sight, he couldn’t help but palm himself. What if you got off to him? Thinking about how your little moans might sound when they slip out of your mouth made his cock pulse, he wanted to make you moan. He wanted to be the reason you came undone.

You tried to defend yourself, slightly annoyed by the derogatory term he referred to you as, “I- no. It isn’t like th-”

He cut you off, his voice having dropped an octave, “It’s okay baby, tell me what you think about.. I wanna hear what gets you off with those pictures.”

Hands came up to cover your face, you felt like you were going to puke- this was too embarrassing. His screen went to “paused” and you heard shuffling from his end. Within seconds you received a picture of Izuku in the mirror, his large hand barely covering his erect penis and his shirt between his teeth. He chuckled, “How about now princess? What makes that pretty pussy tighten around your toy?”

Slick slipped from your previously abused cunt, he sounded so delicious and looked even more delicious. When you spoke, your voice came out as a squeak, “I-I uh, I can’t tell you! It’s embarrassing.” If you could light on fire, it would’ve already happened. In fact, you wish you could. If you’re lucky the entire dorm might catch ablaze as well so all evidence is ruined.

A deep chuckle echoed from your phone speaker, “Embarrassed? It’s not like you’re a blushing virgin baby.”

There was a pause as you lowered your hands, your nose scrunched from the humility and one eye shut, “.. And if I told you I was?”

Izuku felt his member pulse yet again, precum gliding from his slit. That almost sent him over the edge, there was no way someone as breathtaking as you hadn’t been with anyone. Fuck, he could take your innocence and ruin you for any other man. He could make you his own and have you milking his thick cock every night, screaming his name and begging for more.

A meak sigh pulled him from his fantasies as you spoke up, “Sorry if that makes me less appealing.” He was quick to follow up, “N-no. God no. That,” he sighed,” fuck that’s honestly hot.”

Boldness coursed through him as his hand lazily pumped his shaft, “That just means I can be all your firsts.. Here, give me a minute.”

Your heart sank for a minute when the FaceTime ended, but fluttered once again when another call from him came through. This time though, it was from his laptop. He smirked before rolling back in his computer chair, his cock twitching against his stomach anxious for attention.

Desire burnt within him at the sight of you, eyebrows raised and eyes enlarged with pupils blown while you licked your lips. Izuku couldn’t help as his hand encircled his shaft once again, “What is it you think about baby? Me kissing and licking all over your body? My fingers pumping in and out of you while my tongue plays with your nipple?” He began a generous pace of pumping himself before his next taunt, “Maybe my tongue playing with your clit?”

A soft moan fell from your lips as you nodded, “A-all of that. ‘Zuku c-can I please touch myself?” You gasped as you watched precum flow from his tip at your words. He nodded, “Please do.”

You sat back, lifting your hips just enough to slip your panties off, nervously looking at him. All caution was thrown to the wind when Izuku groaned, “Ah, be a good girl for me baby.”

You made sure your full body was in view before grabbing the toy and lowering it between your thighs, which were now covered in a thin layer of your arousal. Squeezing your eyes shut you opened your legs and gently pushed until the dildo was fully sheathed inside of you.

Opening your eyes you were greeted with the most sinful sight, Izuku Midoriya quickly gliding his hand up and down his cock with his chest heaving, his body sheen with sweat.  You let a high pitched moan, your name resonating slowly from his chest. With every thrust your wrist made, a coil began to form inside your belly, it all seemed so familiar but was far more exhilarating knowing that someone else was watching.

“Just think about when that’ll be my cock splitting you in half. Shit- close your eyes for me, start playing with your clit and imagine it's me.” You nodded in response, unable to form words.

Obeying his command, it felt like electricity struck you when your finger made contact. The coil was now fully formed and threatened to burst with every movement.

“I need to cum, p-please.”

“Yeah? Only if you beg for daddy to let you.” He smirked as he watched your thighs tense for a moment.

“A-ah.. please! Please let me finish. Please d-daddy, need to so bad.”

Izuku felt his orgasm quickly approaching with each shaky word spilling from your beautiful lips, “Yeah baby, you can cum now. Let me see the pretty faces you make.”

SNAP

You were gone, your body lost to the ocean of ecstacy ripping through you as you rode the waves of your release.

He sat forward, studying the way your face contorted and how your cunt sucked the toy in as far as possible. The thought of you milking the absolute hell out of his cock sent him over the edge, head thrown back with spurts of cum covering his beautifully toned chest and stomach.

Eyes twitched trying to focus from the intensity of your orgasm as you came down from euphoria.

As Izuku  began cleaning himself off he spoke up, “So you’ve genuinely never done that kind of stuff before?” You shook your head before sitting up to sling a large t-shirt over your body, “Nope, when I said I was a virgin I mean like V I R G I N.”

He shook his head and chuckled, “Crazy. I have some assignments I need to do, if you want you could keep me company?”

You pulled a pillow under your chin and hugged it.  “I have some work to do too, so I guess that’ll work.” You giggled. He twirled a pen between his fingers before bringing it up to chew on, “And once we call it quits for the evening, how about we check off some more ‘firsts’ for you?”

[mittensmorgul]

Can’t everyone use tumblr how they want?

YES!

This site is exactly what people make of it for themselves. That was the exact point of that post. The fact that people reacted negatively to it at all proves my point. Seriously.

I have a number of other anons that are clearly from people who don't actually follow me, and are only here in a reactionary fashion having seen it on someone else's reblog, or else heard about it in passing and decided the best reaction to an ultimately harmless and rather bumbling post was to take personal offense and bring anonymous hate to a stranger on the internet. (and at least one not-anonymous "go kill yourself" type comment on the post itself)

THAT was the point of making that post.

For people who might be new to this fandom or new to tumblr in general (or even for people who have been here for years), your experience here is exactly what you make of it. I haven't seen that sort of vitriolic kneejerk reaction to anything I've written or posted in years. That post touched nerves. So it was a bit of an experiment, and I'm sorry to everyone who experienced any of that negativity second-hand. NOBODY should be made to feel like shit when engaging with something that is supposed to be fun. But I've learned over the years that that's exactly what some people consider fun.

There are new people to this fandom since the absolute free for all of the weeks after November 5th. We all reveled in those weeks before the show collapsed in on itself two weeks later. It was like 15 years worth of Hiatus Blogging followed by... well... some of the worst genuine hurt and disillusionment I've ever experienced or witnessed inflicted on a fandom by a piece of media.

There have to be at least a few people who floated into this fandom during that emotional roller coaster who want to make sense of it all, who were at least curious enough about how a show could've brought the characters to that emotional moment in 15.18 before effectively ignoring it all and burning the entire 15 year narrative to nothing just two episodes later.

Some folks stuck around to dig through the ashes of fandom in search of carrion, and that's fine. Some have zero desire to ever engage with the show or the fandom beyond mocking it for ever having existed at all, and that is also fine! But some folks? They might be wondering why anyone ever saw anything in this narrative to begin with, and they might be interested in knowing that there is this vast collection of information available to them (funny that none of my self-righteous anons even mentioned those, outside of one pointing out that my phrasing introducing that section of links was easily interpreted as condescending... which... yeah... again that was the point, and no I will not edit that language. none of us are free from sin).

Tumblr hasn't "changed." It was always this way. This site is not a monolith. Fandom is not a monolith. Even smaller groups within fandom aren't monoliths. Things that are considered "tumblr standard etiquette" do not exist across this entire website. And even within the supernatural fandom, and even within the tumblr-destiel-portion of the fandom there aren't "rules" dictating how you interact with anyone. Well, the one specific rule we should all be able to agree on is that you don't bring hate to real actual human beings, and yet...

There has ALWAYS been the option to engage with fandom here on whatever level an individual chooses. And that hasn't really changed since the finale aired. Anyone who thinks that Tumblr or the fandom has "evolved" or "changed" has likely just fallen in with a different fandom bubble then they'd existed within before. None of the bubbles have actually popped or disappeared. But which one you experience is entirely your own choice. You curate your experience here.

That was the point, illustrated by the vast array of comments I actually got on that post, structured with a little bit of everything including "tumblr mom from 2014." Everything pisses some people off, you know? Even the perception that some stranger on the internet might dare to lay down an arbitrary "rule" that zero people actually have to follow. See what I mean?

Because if any of the people who kneejerked at it actually followed me, or knew me at all, they wouldn't have kneejerked. They would've seen the point.

So your experience is what you make of it here. There are resources for people actually interested in engaging with the narrative or the fandom or the history of it. People mock "tumblr moms" or "fandom moms" all the time, but there wouldn't ~be~ a fandom without the people who actually build those resources. I.e. adults with the time, money, and personal investment in actually sustaining the fandom, instead of running around with torches trying to burn it down at every new whiff of perceived ~drama~ to latch on to.

For example, all of the scripts we've been acquiring and sharing with the entire fandom free of charge. I know that the fandom bubbles who seize on those scripts like hungry vultures to cough back up out of context "gotcha" posts postulating whatever theory of the differences between script and screen will dredge up the most drama or outrage in their fandom bubble... they haven't even considered how those scripts were acquired and made available to them. To them, they are "leaks." They are gifts that fell out of the sky and landed in their laps. There isn't even the barest curiosity about their origins or relevance beyond whatever social nourishment they derive by making up stuff and spouting it out with unearned authority. It's sad. But if that's how they enjoy the fandom, it's nice to remind them that none of the fandom they cannibalize would exist without the rest of us, too.

Yes, even the people you disagree with. Even the people who ship the things you find disgusting or repulsive. Even people who have an entirely different experience to your own. Even the people who are only here for those gotcha posts.

Fandom is not by nature a nihilistic shitshow, or no fandom would survive the amount of drama the 1% try to bring to it. Here have a fanlore article about this phenomenon. Right now, in Supernatural fandom, it feels like more than 1%, but I promise it really is only 1%. They're just really loud. There's actually other avenues to participatory fandom available to anyone who chooses to find them. Parts of this vast fandom that aren't focused on that 1% of reactionary leg-chewing at every turn. None of them are (as the linked article confirms) truly 100% free of unnecessary drama or bad behavior (including ME, I mean I MADE THAT POST!), but on tumblr you can curate your own experience. Fandom actually can be fun without burning down the thing you claim to be a fan of, or attacking other real human people for having the audacity to exist on the internet in a way you might believe is out of touch or pathetic. Seriously, nobody deserves to experience that from anyone over a fucking television show. Like seriously, take a step back and examine your life and your choices at that point.

Tumblr was exactly the same as a fandom community when I joined as it is now. Throughout my entire time here, I've curated my own personal experience to exactly what I derive the most personal satisfaction from. During that time I have had numerous friends and mutuals lament that their personal experience had become so toxic, but they were afraid to trim those blogs from their dash for fear of having no content left to engage with at all. For years there have been follow lists and blog recs and people desperate to find a more "peaceful and fun" fandom experience. People grow exhausted and embittered when their entire experience of fandom is an emotionally draining drama train. It's like pandemic doom scrolling, but for the thing that should be a respite from that sort of mindset, something that's supposed to be entertainment. The show did enough to us all, we don't have to turn around and re-inflict it on each other day in and day out on tumblr dot com.

So if even one person saw my post and thought well shit maybe I actually want to engage with a wider swath of fandom and see what's there, after seven months of post-finale drama, this whole other region of fandom is still here, still being the curators of the archives, the creators of stories and art and meta and gifs and videos and actually caring about it all that will keep this fandom going long after the current round of exhausting drama inevitably plays itself out.

The amount of in-group language in the negative replies I got was unsurprising. It's like folks are living in an alternate universe that doesn't mesh at all with what I experience on this exact same hellsite. Almost like we exist in entirely different bubbles of fandom, with entirely different purposes for existing at all. Everyone on this hellsite gets to pick which bubble (or bubbles) to take up residence in. Some people simply forget that their personal bubble isn't the universal defining experience of this site. Unfortunately, I doubt my little disruption to their bubbles will actually make any of them see that, but you anon... I think you did.

You are highly encouraged to engage with fandom EXACTLY THE WAY YOU CHOOSE. You have the ultimate power in controlling your entire experience here. Tumblr and Supernatural Fandom on tumblr is not Just One Thing that everyone who wants to participate in must conform to one specific code of ethics or behavior to be part of. And that NOBODY has the right to tell anyone else they're doing it wrong (including ME! I am 100% including myself in this!).

It's not MY job to dictate how anyone else experiences this fandom, as much as it was not the job of the people who reblogged my post (which I did not personally shove into their eyeballs with a demand for compliance... how did any of those people even *find* my post?) solely to tell me how *I* need to change how I experience the fandom, you see? Don'tcha love hypocrisy!

But the point was made for those who care, and a lot of people got to update their block lists (I still don't block anyone, as I said I curated my fandom space here and generally don't follow folks that don't personally make me happy and enrich my life by engaging with their content. However other people choose to engage with *my* content (any of it, going back nearly 50k posts over the last decade) is their business entirely. Sometimes I just feel the need to draw out people who are all too eager to expose their own whole asses in public. Mission accomplished.