#a lot of things compound on top of each other

[wanderingmind867]

I hate time. Can you believe I turn 19 on the 20th of February? I certainly can't. Time moves too fast. This semester of school ends this week (I only go two days this week), I don't know how much longer I can go after this year. But I don't know if I can handle college/university. I don't know what to do. Plus, my mom died a year or two ago. And ever since I had to face death, I haven't felt very calm or stable whenever I think about time or mortality. It's not fun. I mean, I always get by. But it's still not very fun. And I hate time.

Plus, the weather here is all cloudy and dark. I hate that weather because it can sometimes make these moods worse. Plus, if the weather changes I get headaches. So none of that is helping here either.

[mockerycrow]

Emergency Contact (1/2) (Ghost x GN!Reader)

>> emergency contact concept here << PART TWO HERE!!

Summary: Simon is your roommate, and you haven’t seen each other in months, considering Simon’s job. An unfamiliar number pops up on Simon’s phone, and answering it makes his world turn upside down.

A/N: How you two moved in together is very vaguely inspired this ghost fic right here. please give it a read! If you finish the song above, I highly recommend listening to the entire album while reading. i’m not the happiest with this, but i’m happy enough to post!

[WARNINGS: Blood and injury, traumatic events/trauma brought up, gore, little comfort, medical inaccuracies, tbh ooc simon but it’s ok.]

Eight months, thirteen days, and nine hours. That’s how long it’s been since he’s been home, since he’s seen you. That’s how long he’s been stuck on base, or thrown into a foreign country to complete some mission, or to gather some intel, or to kill someone, just somewhere, anywhere but with you.

Eight months, thirteen days, and nine hours. That’s how long it’s been since you softly asked him to stay as safe as he can, and to come back alive, and to come back with at least eight fingers. It was a running joke between you two, a way to relieve the terrifying reality of his job; as long as Simon came home alive and with majority of his fingers, he could consider it a job well done. You didn’t know much of his job, of course—only that he’s military, and he’s gone a lot. You already guessed it was a lot of classified stuff, probably down top secret government type of things. That did make you scared, though. You didn’t want the day to come, the day where people in fancy uniforms show up at your doorstep like you’re some widow. The thought of someone informing you of Simon’s death makes your stomach twist.

Eight months is admittedly a long time. Simon.. he missed you, but he’s rather die that verbally admit it, but he sure as hell felt it. He missed the way he could hear you walk through the house, the weight of the floorboards creaking up your feet. Simon missed walking by the bathroom and the air vaguely smelled your shampoo and body wash, a clear indicator you had just taken a shower. Simon missed the way you carelessly have your shoes next to the shoe rack, not even on it, and despite his annoyance of your laziness? He misses it every single time he’s away. He never really realizes the difference of living on base versus being home with you, and he’s comfortable in both environments for completely different reasons. Simon is comfortable with you because you’re safe, you aren’t associated with anyone he has to deal with on a near daily basis. You don’t scan the kitchen to see which household items could be potential bombs in the vicinity like he does. On base, Simon finds comfort in the familiarity of being constantly on alert, the need for a gun to be against his hip—it’s not the best, considering he’s in fight mode majority of the time, but it’s comforting. It’s familiar. It’s.. home, in a way.

You and Simon call at least once every three weeks—it’s not more because you’re both busy, you have your life to tend to while he has to do something like protecting an American Embassy, or sneaking into a compound to retrieve some vital information. You two talk about all kinds of things; you complain about the neighbors for the nth time, or you talk about your job, just something that he hasn’t heard about in a while. Simon.. he’s limited on what he can talk about—what he wants to talk about. It’s a bit difficult, keeping details of his job hidden away from you. He also keeps you hidden away from them; his team. Price vaguely is aware of your existence, but all he knows is your name and your phone number—someone to alert when he eventually would pass away.

It surprised Price when he requested access to his own file to make a change. Simon went for years without anyone in that section, leaving it blank—and then suddenly ‘[Name] [Last Name]’ is written down, along with your phone number. Simon doesn’t want to die somewhere and then you sit at home, dreading the fact that you haven’t received a call from him for over six months. Other than that, no one is aware of your existence and he wants to keep it that way. It keeps you safe, and he doesn’t want the one thing he has going in his life to be taken away from him—not like everything else has been.

No, you and Simon aren’t together. You just are the one constant he cannot allow to die. How you and Simon became close was rather funny, really—before you were roommates, you bumped into each other at the local stores, the bank, even several public spaces like parks and such. You didn’t see him too often and you weren’t aware on why, but you didn’t really wonder why either. By this point, you knew each other for a couple of months. He introduced himself as SR—not Ghost or Simon, but as SR. You didn’t bother to question it because this tall, bulky man seemed like he was trying keep himself as anonymous as possible. Without fail, you always saw him wear dark colored clothing that hid any identifiable markings—tattoos and scars, that kind of thing. He usually has his hood up with a black face mask covering his nose down, but you do know one thing—he has to have bright blonde hair. Why else would his beautiful eyelashes and eyebrows be that bright? It would catch your eye every time you’d see them. Sometimes you would see him with a beanie on and the mask, with his hood down. This wasn’t too often, as it exposed some scarring he has on the back of his neck, as well as his forehead. This also silently lead you to believe he has a tough past of some sort, which is confirmed when you run into him somewhere you never expected to—your therapist’s building. You bumped into him right outside, and you apologized profusely before looking and going silent as you made eye contact.

A silent agreement was made between you two that day, one that you could never put into words. Something in that moment that dragged you two closer together. You had been through some shit in your life, shit that had permanent effect on you, shit that you wanted to work through. It was horribly tiring, but you knew you needed to work through it—so you could live a life you felt was worth living. Simon, was on the other side of the spectrum. He didn’t want this. He never wanted to tell anyone about anything, but Price, Price fucking made him. Simon spends his days and nights plagued with nightmares and memories—he’s woken up in the middle of the night enough times to know that he needs help, but he was so adamant about not talking to anyone about it. But seeing you there? Someone who he hasn’t known for long, someone who had always greeted him with a smile on your face, laughter spilling from your beautiful vocal cords, and someone who doesn’t touch him without permission? It made him so angry and hopeless about this world. Not even you, a stranger who he sees as the best human being he’s known in a while—despite not knowing you for long—could escape from the cruel and sharp jaws of the world. You found out you two accidentally scheduled the same days, so it became an unspoken agreement to wait for the other outside of the building so you can both go in. Even when you weren’t sure when his next appointment would be, you’d be right outside of that building, waiting for him. You would always be right there, and that’s something he quickly learned.

You lost your house to a fire, everything went with the burning embers that raged inside of the 4 walls of your previous home, the structure collapsing in on itself. You had gotten out in time, and you numbly watched the fire roar, the crackling burning it’s memory in your ears. The piercing sound of different sirens were approaching, but all you could do is stand there with your phone in your hand, watching the home you worked so hard for burn to the foundation built years ago. You felt a hand on your shoulder, but you didn’t bother to turn to see who it was. Everything was going so slow, almost like a movie scene in the worst way possible. Your nostrils burned from the smell of burning wood, drywall, and installation. The hand squeezed your shoulder and you slowly looked at who it was—and was him. Simon. His eyebrows were furrowed, eyes ever so slightly panicked and it was obvious he was asking you something, but you didn’t hear him. All you could focus on was that he was here. You blinked rapidly as your eyes began to burn from the smoke and from that choked feeling going from your chest to your throat. “I..” You croak ever so slightly. You couldn’t hold it back—you quickly grabbed onto Simon desperately, letting out a heart-wrenching sob because you just lost everything you owned, every memory, every piece of furniture, everything.. but he was here. He was the only thing was wasn’t crumbling away from your grasp, the only constant. Once you clung to him, Simon’s senses were flooded with you. Fuck, your touch burned, just like everyone’s else’s but he liked—no, loved how it felt. Despite the image of a burning house in his wake making dread bubble in his gut, your sobs and touch were the only thing he could focus on. Simon hesitates for only a second before pulling you into his personal space, his arms wrapping around you and weighing heavily on your body. Neither of you spoke, he just let you scream into his chest and sob, your fists gently banging against his chest—the anger, the sadness, everything was too much. Simon knew exactly how you were feeling, so he didn’t mind the twinges of pain your hands produced. Simon was the one who helped you while you chatted with the paramedics and the police. He was the one who helped you find your words when you had none left to share, the smell of the smoke imprinted on your clothes.

Without question, Simon took you to his house. He did not have another bed set up, so he had you sleep in his room while he slept on his couch. He hated the hollow look your eyes held, the way you were delayed with your answers, the ways your hands shook. Your everlasting smile had dissipated into a wobbly frown and he.. Simon couldn’t handle it. He grabbed you some of his clothes and helped you into his bathroom, quietly telling you to take a shower. He’ll take care of your clothes. Simon left you alone, and you showered for a long time. He didn’t count, but it was over an hour and a half. Simon didn’t say anything about you possibly racking up his bill, how could he when you had just lost everything? He wanted to.. to help you, and he wasn’t sure why. Even when he found himself scrubbing your smoke and tar covered clothes in his kitchen sink, he couldn’t find an exact reason why he wanted to help you. Maybe it’s because you made him feel human when he needed to be, maybe you were the one thing that kept him coming back to this town, the one thing that kept him from completely pulling away from the civilian world. You had found him in a corner like a dog, lips curled back and snarling—sharp teeth clashing together, and without a word, you gave him reasons to trust you. Although they may not be.. normal reasons to the regular eye, but they were enough for Simon.

You’re enough for Simon. He scrubbed your clothes until his arms burned, and then some.

That’s when he found out that you too, were also someone who could not stay asleep for long. When Simon awoke with his adrenaline pumping from the muffled sound of vomiting, he had to calm himself down because he’s safe, and you’re safe, most of all. Simon isn’t sure when he began to think that way, but it’s one of the many things he’s decided to not question—which also new for him. Simon is man who demands answers, yet with you? it’s like everything naturally falls into place, which is why he doesn’t complain when your stay at his house—which you swore would only be until you gathered enough money for an apartment—turned from a two week stay, to Simon carrying in an IKEA bed frame to put and assemble in one of his empty rooms. Many sleepless nights came and went, and each and every one you spent them with each other, sitting by a windowsill together, other times spending it in the backyard and looking at the sky. Sometimes you would wake up first, sometimes it would be him. You somehow always knew when he had woken up from a nightmare, his heart pounding in his ears—until your hands grab his and squeeze, to ground him. You burn him, and he welcomes the tickle of your ever-glowing flame. A year into this arrangement, Simon finally shows you his face and he appreciates that you don’t look at him any different. He usually hates the searching eyes, trying to memorize every inch of his face—but he’s greedy when you do it. When your eyes roam over every scar and acne scar, when you point out his messily cut hair and half-assed shaven stubble, he doesnt get angry. Simon doesn’t feel suffocated by your glances. He doesn’t wear his mask at home anymore, not when you’re there.

Then Simon gets the notice about his three month leave ending soon; and he knows that you need to know about his job. Or at least, the bare minimum you need to know. In reality, it’s how much he wants you to know, but he doesn’t want to admit that. He sits you down one morning, a cup of tea in his hand and he had a mug of your favorite morning drink on the other side of the table he had bought a few weeks you started staying here. Simon explains that he has a job in the military, that he can’t tell you much, but it means he’s going to be gone for weeks, even months at a time. You’re at a loss at first, because who is going to have an extremely positive reaction to “by the way, I work an extremely dangerous job and I can’t tell you anything and I’ll be gone for a while.. Oh yeah, you likely won’t know if I die!”? Despite your initial reaction, you grow to be okay with this situation. Or, we’ll, as okay as you can be with it. You also find out that he was here for way longer than he originally is, due to his boss demanding him to take a break—AKA, “go to therapy you dafty”.

For a little over two years, you two fell into a good rhythm. A call every three weeks, him coming home and you becoming the safest space he’s ever had in his life.

Which is why when his personal cell phone begins to vibrate in his pocket during some fuck-all meeting, his eyebrows furrow. The number is unfamiliar, but the area code is not. Simon quietly excuses himself from the extended round table, taking his call outside of the meeting room. Price’s eyes follow his figure as he exits, noticing it’s his personal cell phone in his hand. Simon answers the call and presses his phone against his masked ear, muttering a low, “Hello?”

A high-pitched, soft yet serious voice filters through the speaker, a woman. “Hi, is this Mr. Riley?”

Simon pauses, and so does his heart. “Who’s asking?”

He honestly regrets asking that in the moment—one part of him genuinely wishes he never answered this call, and the other part of him is glad he did. “I’m a nurse from Northern Manchester Community Hospital, you’re written down as [Name]’s emergency contact. They’ve been a victim of a hit and run situation, sir. They’re alive, but they’re in the ICU.” The nausea that suddenly bubbles inside of his guys, the stomach acid mixed with whatever he had eaten previously, threatening to travel up his esophagus, burn every inch and then exit with a horrific sound. Simon’s head began to spin—he’s your emergency contact? A hit and run, you were fucking hit?? By what, a car? A pick-up? A semi? God, Simon has seen the most horrible, gruesome, fucked up shit you would ever see in his entire life, yet he isn’t sure if he can handle the image of you spread out in a hospital bed, with one too many tubes circulating around you. His mind plagues him with intrusive images, ones he never wants to actually see played out. Fuck, his head hurts. It feels like someone is physically shoving a knife into his chest and twisting it, like God is laughing at him and playing with Simon’s pain for his own gain. How could he not think that, especially with everything that has happened to him? His friends, his family? His old CO? The fucking abuse he endured??

It’s like Simon lost his hearing for a moment, because he cannot bare fucking losing you, too. There’s a vague ringing in his ears, almost like there was an explosion and he stood too close. And then suddenly every sound comes rushing back to his eardrums, and everything suddenly everything is so fucking overwhelming. “Mr. Riley?” The nurse calls over the phone, her tone laced with worry. He clears his throat and when he speaks, he sounds wrecked, which he fucking hates. “I.. I’ll come as soon as I can.” Simon hangs up, not giving the nurse a moment to speak. He drops his phone and if he doesn’t sit down, he’s going to fall over like a tree that’s been cut down. Simon lets out a shaky breath, trying to ignore the way his stomach is screaming and twisting as he puts a hand on the wall, and he crouches down. It’s the first time he doesn’t look around to see if anyone is watching his sudden display of emotion. When he’s suddenly rocked with the feeling of home at work, especially with the news that you’re fucking injured—he’s overwhelmed and twisted all over the place. Simon finds himself stumbling back to his barracks.

Price finds his way to him after Simon never returns to the meeting. He knocks on the door, but his knuckles pause before they can knock against the door for the third time as he discovers the door is open—which is very, very, odd. He slowly opens the door while calling for Ghost, and is met with the sight of Simon shoving some of his clothes and belongings into a duffle bag, as well as his military travel documents. “Ghost?” Price questions, who stopped in his doorway to watch Simon lose his mind while packing. Simon doesn’t respond as he practically rips his phone charger out of the wall and stuffs it into the bag, zipping it up. He slings it over his shoulder and he turns around, pausing when he sees Price. Simon’s eyes tell everything he’s feeling—that something’s happened, something bad, and he needs to leave. Price bites his lip and quietly exhales, his fingers rubbing at his chin. “I’ll approve your leave. Just shoot me a text of how long it needs to be, yeah?”

Simon makes sure to note to send Price a thank you of some sort, because within the next two hours, Simon is boarding a plane, heading for Manchester, wearing some black clothing, a jacket, a black face mask, gloves, and his beanie. The entire time, he could not stop thinking about you—and how you could possibly die before he got there to send off his final goodbyes. Is that something he would actually want to do, though? See you in the hospital, knowing it’ll be the last place you’d ever be alive in? Go home, see how you left the house exactly as you left it? A house, but without his home in it? Simon stares out the airplane window blankly, his hands curled into fists, and his nails would be digging into his palms if he didn’t have gloves on.

He couldn’t lose you. Not like this.

The next part for Simon, it’s a blur again. Got off the plane, got his luggage, provided documentation, blah blah blah—he didn’t give a fuck about any of it. His focus was you. He didn’t bother to stop home to drop his stuff off, he took an Uber straight to the hospital from the airport. It was a fairly expensive Uber too, but he could worry about the costs of everything later. It took another half hour to get there.

His heart began to hammer in his chest as the sight of the hospital’s signs began to pop up on the road, the anxiety taking hold in his stomach and his head begins to hurt again. Simon quietly thanks the driver, tips them, and exits the car with a swiftness once they pull up. Simon walks through the main entrance’s sliding doors, going up to the desk. A woman behind the counter hangs up the phone, murmuring a goodbye, and then she looks at Simon with her pretty blue eyes. “How can I help you, sir?” She murmurs sweetly, noting how anxious he is. She can see the sweat on his brow line. Simon clears his throat, his voice rumbling in his chest when he speaks. It takes everything in him to not yell at this innocent woman and get thrown out. “My.. My name is Mr. Riley, I was called ‘cause my friend is here,” Simon manages to push out. “[Name] [Last Name].” The woman turns to her computer and clicks the couple of buttons and types a couple of words and holy fuck, Simon just wants to go to your wing already—“Ah, yes, I see you’re listed as their emergency contact,” The woman grabs a sticky note and writes with a pink pen your room number and elevator floor, handing it to Simon. He barely gets a “thank you” out before he nearly jogs to the nearby elevator. Fourth floor, room 283. Fourth floor, room 283. Fourth floor, room 283—it’s the longest minute long elevator ride in his entire fucking life.

Simon changes face masks whilst facing the wall, and then he finds your room number—and his heart is beating out of his chest. There’s cops standing outside of your room who stop him from entering. Simon’s anger flares up so quickly, he nearly makes a scene until a doctor exits your room. She’s wearing her usual blue scrubs, her coat, and she’s dawning a N95 and some sterile gloves. She’s holding a clipboard. “Mr. Riley?” She questions, holding the clipboard close to her chest. Simon nods without hesitation, and she responds, “I’m sorry, but due to the nature of this case, you’ll have to provide some identification for me and these officers.”

Usually, Simon would hesitate—he gives anyone outside of his team the bare minimum, hell, he only introduced himself as SR until he knew you for a while. This time, he takes out his military ID and shows it to the officers. He ignores their looks of surprise, and ignores the murmurs that come from them. Simon puts his ID away and he holds back the urge to shove them out of the way as he glares down at the doctor on accident. “Come in,” The doctor opens the sliding door and steps into the hospital ICU room with him. Simon follows behind her and he immediately smells the sickening smell only the ICU gives off. There’s a small wall blocking his view from you that he hasn’t past, and he can already hear the machines working. A heart monitor, a ventilator, combined with other machines he doesn’t know too well. The doctor flips through the papers pinned to her clipboard. “They were hit by a vehicle of some sort, the scene suggested they were walking home from the local corner store. [Name] has multiple broken bones and fractures, a punctured lung, a fractured jaw and internal bleeding. They lost a lot of blood at the scene.” Simon doesn’t respond as he slowly walks forward, and he finally lays his eyes on you. It’s.. traumatizing, to say the least. You were never supposed to be in a hospital bed like this, hooked up to machines he can’t even name. He slowly walks over to you, dropping his duffel bag somewhere on the floor. He doesn’t care to look where. Simon barely pays attention to what the doctor is saying—his hands tremble as he stands by your side, his heart thumping harshly in his chest. Fuck.

He drags over one of the chairs next to your bed. Simon takes off one of his gloves slowly, and then he tears the other one off in a frenzy. He feels so unlike himself, so.. different.. human. He reaches over to your hand and his fingers grab your wrist, so gentle as if you’re glass. Simon presses his fingers against your pulse point, counting your heartbeats despite the monitor. The thumping under your skin makes it more.. real. Feeling you, your heartbeat, your warmth and your skin—it’s comforting. Simon clears his throat and fights the urge to vomit once a gain, watching your chest rise and fall, produced by the ventilator.

He moves his hand to intertwine with your fingers and he uses his other hand to feel your pulse. Simon closes his eyes, muttering the beats per minute under his breath.

At least you’re alive—you’re here, you’re alive, and you’re with him. And that’s all he asks for.

tags;; @alwaystired--neversleeping @handsomeunderwear-art @indefenseofkara @kaysav608 @1-is-loneliest-number @rosee-sensuelle @kitty-satan1 @k4marina @rahmown @royalty-purple @bowtruckleninja — if you are not tagged, it’s not allowing me :-)

[literaryavenger]

You're Still My Sunshine

Summary: A year later, a lot has changed.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Grief. Fluff. No mentions of Y/N.

Word Count: 750

A/N: This is just a little drabble to continue You Were My Sunshine, hope ya like it.

Masterlist | Part 1

“Doll…” He says quietly while cupping your face with his free hand as he sees you holding back tears. “It’s okay to be vulnerable in front of the people you care about. You taught me that.”

His gentle words, the way he softly strokes your cheek and the way he’s looking at you so lovingly, it’s all too much for you and can’t hold back your tears anymore.

With a broken sob, you bury your face in Bucky’s chest and hug him tightly, clinging to him while he wraps his arms around you and hugs you just as tight, kissing the top of your head before nuzzling his face against your hair.

In this moment, while holding you in his arms, Bucky realizes it’s not like you don’t feel like you belong with the Avengers.

This is just something you feel like you have to go through on your own because you’ve always had to.

And he’ll be damned if he lets you go through it alone ever again.

A year later

“Hi, mom.” You kneel down in front of the grave, placing down the bouquet of blue roses.

You look around the cemetery for a moment, if anything just out of habit to make sure there’s no danger, but you’re alone.

“Happy birthday.” You look back at the grave, cleaning it a little by brushing off the weeds on it.

“Another year, huh?” You say quietly. “A lot happened… And I’m not sure how we got here, but…”

Before you can say anything else, you feel a hand on your shoulder but you don’t bother turning around.

“I’m sorry, baby, it took me a little to find the candle.” Bucky’s voice rings in your ear as he kneels down beside you.

You look at your boyfriend, smiling at him as he lights the candle on the cupcake and passes it to you. 

Like usual, you look at it for a moment before you blow it out and you can’t help the tear that rolls down your cheek, except this time Bucky’s there to promptly wipe it away.

You spend the next few hours there, the both of you talking to the tombstone and to each other while Bucky holds you and wipes your tears away.

When you’re back at the Compound, the team is gathered around the living room watching a movie.

“I still can’t believe Elsa is the only one you allow to know about your special day.” You roll your eyes at Tony’s nickname for Bucky while the team snickers.

“Actually,” You start while you and Bucky sit down on the couch next to Steve. “I… I’m ready to tell you guys.” 

You’re a little hesitant, but for the past year you and Bucky have talked about it a lot, since you started dating you’ve opened up to him in a way he didn’t even know was possible considering you were already the most open person Bucky’s ever met.

And it felt good, you thought to yourself, and you decided last night you were ready to open up to the rest of your family too.

So you tell them everything, every little detail of the things you do, explaining why you do them because they were your mom’s favorite things. They’re understanding, not loving that you went through all that on your own, but they respect your choice and were glad you now allowed Bucky to be there for you. And, with some more grumbling from Tony, they accept that you aren’t ready to have them all there with you yet.

But that doesn’t mean they couldn’t do anything for you…

Another year later

You almost don’t recognize the grave, having to double check the tombstone to make sure it’s the right one.

And it is, only it’s full of flowers, teddy bears, papers and Avengers action figures for some reason. 

You’re as confused as Bucky when the two of you kneel down and you reach for one of the papers and you start chuckling when you see it’s a message from Tony, to you. It’s clear that he wrote it to make you laugh, full of sarcasm and jokes, and Bucky’s glad to see it’s working.

You read all the notes one by one, all from the team to you, between tears and chuckles, and you can’t be more grateful to have found this family.

You almost forget that this year you have big news, the engagement ring sitting on your finger shining with the sunlight.

I have a lot of things to tell you, mama, you think to yourself while absentmindedly stroking your stomach, where you found out just yesterday your very own little ray of sunshine is growing.

Yes, things are definitely getting better.

[subwaysurf45]

Team Bucky

Summary: your secret relationship with Bucky slips out. Everyone else in the compound is happy for you both but your brother - or really your grandfather - is not pleased at all, all you can do is try and live normally with Bucky and attempt to fix things with Steve. 

Words: 6k

warnings: SMUT: passionate sex, unprotected, very loving, aftercare. arguing, yelling, swearing, protective Bucky. 

a/n: heyyy, yeah I’ve been away for a while, this semester as been kicking my ass. anyways, I’m on winter break and have finally gotten my spark for writing back, I’ve been writing a lot of essays so writing for fun was not fun for a while. I hope you enjoy and I will try to post as often as I can!

There had always been a secret one-upping game going on between Steve and Bucky, it was something everyone had exempted and went along with. There would be countless times when they’d add more and more weight to their bars in order to prove their dominance to each other, or spar with one another until someone gets hurt.

At galas, Steve would be walking around with a trail of women behind him, showing off his skills with the ladies. That didn’t mean anything to Bucky, he would love to get laid more often or get a girlfriend but the ability to make women think they are into you and then drop them like a dead weight isn't appealing.

There were probably things Bucky did to get on Steve’s nerves that Steve didn’t care for. They didn’t do it all the time, just friendly competition. They had been friends for years and years, someone’s weight being a little higher couldn’t even cause a crack in their friendship.

But what Bucky was doing recently would.

There you were, sitting alone in the office as you filled out a debrief of your last mission. The computers were high tech but that didn’t mean they were super fast, most of the time you sat there waiting for anything to load, and seeing the logo in the top corner was a miracle.

“How’s that arm?” Bucky asked as he walked in, acting like he hadn’t been standing outside the door practicing what he was going to say.

“Hard to type with-aw, Bucky…” you pouted and saw the two steaming mugs in his hand, “stop, that’s so sweet!” you reached forward and picked up your favourite mug, looking at Bucky with wide eyes as he pulled out the chair beside you and sat down. “This is going to take forever, Bucky, you don’t-”

“I’m good,” Bucky sighed as he brought his mug right against his bottom lip to blow, “nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“You’re all soft��� you giggled and turned back to your computer, “I do need to focus though, no distractions.”

“You have my word,” Bucky smiled and leaned back in his chair, “I’m just here for moral support.”

You just nodded, he loved the face you made when you tried to fight back being flustered. Your bottom lip was clenched tightly between your teeth to fight back a smile while you tried to cover your face and block Bucky from seeing your slight change in colour. The warmth that spread all throughout your body caused you to curl into yourself, he noticed that whenever he complimented you at all you wouldn't know how to react, telling Bucky you weren’t being complimented enough.

That’s how it started, casual compliments and conversation between you two. Trying to get to know you because there was this imaginary wall up for many reasons, you didn’t like to let people into your life because of how much you had lost and something more pressing…

You were Steve’s granddaughter, factually. But you two acted like siblings because you were a little younger than Steve’s age from when he was frozen. Nonetheless, you were related.

Which also meant off-limits.

Bucky really tried to cut himself off but you were his drug, he couldn’t get enough of you. It didn’t help that you were very honest early on about being into him. When Bucky initiated conversations and would give you little touches here and there you were quick to give them back. The first time you played with his hair gave him shivers running up and down his spine but also caused his brain to go fuzzy.

You were alone in the movie room, you always watched some film every Thursday night to keep a schedule. He had come back from a mission hours ago and still managed to make his way down just to sit beside you, and he did but he realized he was too tired to do anything.

He wanted you to cuddle into him and he’d rub your back or whisper little things to just you, but his eyes couldn’t stay open.

“You’re so tired, Bucky-bear,” you whispered and threw your arm around him and to the other side of his head, gently pushing him to place his head on your shoulder, “you can go to sleep if you want,” you whispered.

His body was on his last reserve, not thinking straight at all. “Can I put my head on your chest, your shoulder is too boney,” he’d kick himself for that one in the morning. When you giggled and moved he seemed to sink into you more, wrapping both arms around you and nuzzling into your chest. Everything was so comfy he barely registered that his face was deep between your boobs, you didn’t move or say anything until… “you’re so pillowy,” he muttered.

“But my shoulder is boney?” you shook your head, “you can just say you like my boobs, most people do.”

“They’re great,” he nodded.

Your hand moved from his back and went up his scalp from his neck, earning a groan when you started to fluff around his hair and scratch somewhat intensely on his scalp. He was out before the beginning credits ended, snoring before the middle of the movie. Part of you felt this overwhelming feeling of something you couldn’t describe, Bucky Barnes, a man riddled with nightmares and trauma, constantly on high alert was asleep on your chest. The big man could dwindle down into a guy who has never once felt the touch of love from a significant other. The fact that he trusted you with the power made you proud, it made you like him just a little more.

“How much longer,” he sighed from his starfish position on the floor, being overly dramatic to try to get you to look away. You giggled and finally looked over your shoulder, scoffing at his dramatics.

“Go to bed, I’ll sneak in later.” You shook your head, “and one page left.”

Bucky sighed and sat up, staying on the ground and watching you work. It took a while but soon you were finished, reading it over before submitting it. Bucky helped you pack all your stuff away, holding your bag for you, he did that a lot, never wanting you to do any heavy lifting. Your eyes were barely open as you left the room with Bucky leading you out, you both headed down the hall and to the elevator.

“You still want to sleep with me?” Bucky asked when the door was completely closed, you were too tired to say anything, keeping your head resting against his arm and nodded slightly. “Alright, I think there is still a sweater you left in the room.”

You groaned and looked up, “your clothes please,” Bucky giggled after you whispered. The door opened and you both walked out, him wrapping an arm around you to keep you steady. “I also want to be little spoon please.”

Out of nowhere, a voice came from behind them, “watch your hands, Barnes,” it was Steve.

Bucky turned around but kept his hand where it was, “guess where I just found her?” Steve looked at your tired state, “little miss just finished her report is only going to bed now, I was walking her to her room to make sure she doesn’t pass out on her floor.”

Steve smiled a proud smile. He caught up to them and also helped you walk, subconsciously you leaned more towards Bucky at this moment, thinking of how you’d be cuddling with him soon. Bucky played along and brought you into your room, Steve was very adamant they both left before you got into your pajamas. Bucky couldn’t say no even though he had seen you naked, he had to play along.

Bucky went into his room and waited with the door unlocked, after five minutes you slipped in and found him in the bathroom. Both of you brushed your teeth beside one another, he had one arm around you while you looked at each other through the mirror.

In your opinion, his bed was much more comfortable, choosing to sleep there more often than your own bed. Both of you cuddled in close, you were practically laying on top of him with your head tucked into his neck.

“I love you, Bucky-Bear,” you mumbled, snuggling closer to him.

“I love you too, baby,” he whispered into your hair, leaving a few kisses after. “You make me so happy, I can’t explain it,” you both giggled as he tickled you.

The secret life with Bucky was great and terrible at the same time. There was a different side to Bucky that he didn’t show the team, he was much softer and more extroverted. When you’d sneak out for dates he’d always be the ordering and making conversation with the waiter because he felt safer at that moment. But at the same time, you still had to go on dates by sneaking out. Steve would kill you if he found out the two of you were seeing each other even though it had been going on for a while you both knew it wasn’t a joke. Your heart would still fall when Bucky had to drop your hand when someone else walked in a room, and both of you would grow envious of the couples openly displaying affection at galas.

The idea of telling Steve grew larger by the day because you knew it was bound to happen, part of you wanted to tell him before getting caught so it didn’t look like Bucky was just a hook-up to you. Yes, Steve would kill you but he would also tear Bucky apart because there were rules, apparently. Any type of family member was off-limits, even if Steve found a distant cousin of Bucky’s they would still be a no-go; but you knew that rule was just for you because you were all Steve had left when it came to family.

********

Steve and Bucky were sparring in the ring as you and a couple of other agents went to various machines during your workout. You couldn’t help but look over at them as they fought extremely hard against one another, there was no reason to give each other a broken nose but they did it anyway.

“Can I work in?” Sammy asked you, he had graduated from the academy the same year as you. You wouldn’t consider yourselves friends but you’d smile at each other in the hall and keep up with families.

“Of course,” you stood up from just sitting on the seat as you took your break, leaning down and picking up your water bottle. Absentmindedly you looked over to see the both of them fighting, Sammy must have noticed.

“I don’t get the game between the two of them,” he grunted, “I get it from a male perspective as in you constantly want to impress your friends but sometimes it gets bad, like what are they even doing right now?” he referenced both of them limping around the ring as they circled one another.

“Boys!” you shouted and they both looked at you, “quit putting on a show for us and just act like normal people for once in your life!” you cupped both hands around your mouth.

Bucky looked shocked, “we’re just playing around, relax!” he sassed you back, it was clear on your face you didn’t enjoy what he said, “oh come on, you always get like this, give us a break!”

“Watch it!” Steve snapped, “you better watch how you talk to my sister.” Steve looked back at you, “and you!” he pointed in your direction, “let the grown men handle their things, please.”

Bucky scoffed, “you better watch how you talk to my girlfriend.”

At that moment the world stopped. Steve whipped his head around to Bucky and just stared at him while Sammy dropped the handhelds for the machine, letting out a loud clunk. Bucky’s eye shifted towards you in what felt like slow motion as an apologetic look grew on his face, your metal water bottle slipped from your fingers and fell on your foot.

“Fuck!” the feeling of a throbbing big toe pulled you from your trance, all you heard was more commotion in front of you but you were looking down.

“You’re fucking my sister?!” Steve yelled and caused all the agents to run out of the gym, including Sammy who quickly patted your shoulder before bolting out. Bucky tried to run over to you to help with the toe injury but was stopped after Steve’s fist collided with Bucky’s throat. “You don’t get to even look at her anymore, I’ll take your fucking eyes out you pervert!”

“Steve!” you hobbled over and ran up to the ring, slipped under and grabbed Bucky’s head that was unmoving on the boxing ring floor, “you knocked him unconscious, Steve,” you gasped and pulled Bucky’s head to your thighs as you sat back on your heels, “you could have damaged his windpipe.”

“He won’t need one after he wakes up and I fully-”

“It’s not like he forced me, Steve,” You looked up at your brother, “we’ve been dating for a long time and it’s not just sex, it’s an actual romantic connection that both of our consent to, it’s actual dating!” you gently tapped Bucky’s cheek to wake him up, “don’t frame him or me to be a slut because all we do are normal dating things,” Steve’s face was red as he saw you carding through Bucky’s hair, he was starting to groan and stir.

“Both of you are dead to me,” Steve spat, “he broke the only rule I set up to protect you.”

“I don’t need to be protected from Bucky, and you know that.” you harshly whipped your head around again, “and I know you’re hurt and exaggerating, just walk away.” That was the last time you looked up at Steve, all your focus was on Bucky starting to wake up in your lap. As he groaned and slowly brought his fingers up to his nose your eyes began to water, this was exactly your worst-case scenario.

Bucky’s eyes cracked open and immediately closed again, “baby,” he mumbled, “don’t cry, please, don’t cry,” he reached up to swipe away your tears but completely missed your face, most likely seeing double. “I slipped up,” now Bucky was starting to cry, “my fault.”

You gently pulled him up in a hug and Bucky accepted it, continuously apologizing for what he had just done. Every time you’d quiet him or try to shift his train of thought but he’d make his way back there every time. After a while you got him on his feet and took him to med bay, many people came up to you and asked if everything was alright, you just nodded and kept walking.

“What happened!” Natasha was in med bay when you arrived, filling out discharge paperwork for herself, “Bucky, that looks really broken,” her fingers ghosted over his nose which caused him to wince backwards, “sorry.”

“Yeah,” you sighed and sat him on the cot, calling over a nurse who began examining, “just…going too hard with the sparring.”

Natasha shook her head, “but no one goes that hard, we all pull our punches except when it’s Steve and- oh my god…” she trailed off and looked at Bucky who was preparing to get his nose snapped back in place, “did Steve find out?”

“My fault,” Bucky cried, holding the sheet as he waited for the nurse to fix his nose.

“It’s not your fault, it was a mistake and yeah this is shitty but it will figure itself out.” you looked over your shoulder and immediately gave Bucky your hand, seeing his white knuckles gripping his sheets.

******

It had been a week and Steve refused to speak to either of you unless it was in a professional setting, even then, he’d be snarky whenever he would talk to you. He meant what he said, you really were dead to him. Part of you thought he’d just be mad at Bucky and get overprotective of you but that never happened, he viewed you like dirt; like how he looks at Bucky.

Bucky could see how it took a toll on you, it broke his heart to see you staring off into space after Steve passed by without looking at you. All Bucky could do was hold you closer, but deep down he blamed himself for letting it slip. Every tear, every longing glance, every hope he’d come around was all his fault.

He found you today curled up in bed, Bucky slipped in behind you and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest. “Everything will simmer sooner or later,” he whispered into your ear.

“I just-...” you sighed and buried your head into your pillow further, “he’s my only family, when he wanted to reconnect with me he was so adamant on making sure I came back to the tower with him, so he could have a sister,” Bucky rolled you over so you were facing him, “and now…I do something for me that makes me happy, you make me so happy, and I’m punished for it.”

Bucky planted a gentle kiss on your forehead, pulling you into another hug and letting you feel his warmth and comfort. “I will personally fix all of this, I will find a way, don’t worry, alright?” Bucky pulled back so he could see you nod, “alright?”

You nodded and Bucky kissed you again, crawling out of bed when you fell asleep. He knew where Steve was, and even though his nose had held quickly doesn’t mean he won’t get another broken nose from what he was about to do. Steve was always in the computer room, just like you. There was always something to be done when it came to paperwork and Steve had the energy for it.

Bucky stayed close to the wall and pressed his back against it, leaning over the corner to see Steve typing away at the computer near the back. Bucky pulled back and fully leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath.

Nat: We’re taking y/n out for a girl’s night, just want to let you know!

Bucky: keep me updated, and don’t let her get too drunk, please

Nat: don’t worry!

After shutting off his phone he slipped it into his pocket and took another deep breath. After mustering enough courage Bucky fully turned the corner and walked up to “Steve,” Bucky stood before him, “we need to talk.”

Steve gave nothing, he almost looked up at Bucky but it was just a flinch.

“Silent treatment?” Bucky scoffed, “that works for me to explain my side of the story without you verbally- or who knows - physically breaking me.” Steve huffed, Bucky looked at the chair but decided to stand. “I’ve been dating your sister for about a year and she’s made me the happiest man in the world,” Bucky fiddled with his fingers, “and I know we made rules and all that but this isn’t about that, we can discuss that later.” Bucky saw Steve was no longer typing but simply staring at his screen. “Steve, your sister misses you so much, she’s been curled up in bed crying about losing you, feeling punished for letting herself love someone, she’s kicking herself for something that was all my fault; I slipped up and y/n should be the last one to pay for it.” Bucky gave in and pulled up a chair, making Steve look at him, “I don’t care if we never talk again but my girlfriend is hurting and that’s what’s been killing me the most, so just talk to her, please?”

Bucky sat there, looking at his vacant face. After a sigh, Bucky rubbed his face and stood up, tucking in the chair. He ran his fingers through his hair, “y/n’s out for drinks with a couple of the girls,” Bucky said, “so she’s not here if you were thinking of talking to her.” Bucky left after that, knowing Steve wasn’t going to say anything.

When you stumbled back inside Bucky was quick to catch you, “what did I say about not letting her get stupid drunk?” Natasha just giggled and Bucky couldn’t help but smirk at all the ladies making their way to the kitchen. “How’s my baby?” Bucky whispered into your ear which caused you to get coy and curl into him, “are you a little cuddly, huh?” his finger made its way under your chin which caused you to giggle. You jumped on him to wrap your legs around his hips.

“I love you, Bucky-Bear,” you hugged him tightly, “we can run away together and never worry about anything ever again, do you want to run away with me?” you kissed Bucky’s neck as he walked into the kitchen to see them all eating chips and cookies.

“Sure we can,” he moved his head so you’d detach your lips from his neck and just cuddle into him.

Bucky stood with the group and held you like you were nothing, laughing and talking while the girls did their debrief at the kitchen island, talking about the songs and the dancing. Bucky kept you in his arms but placed you down so you were sitting on the island, letting your legs and arms wrap around him. You weren’t talking that much, Bucky looked over after five minutes of nothing to see you sleeping with your face on his shoulder.

“She did start to cry,” Natasha said sadly, “she had a lot of pent-up emotion and our uber cancelled on us twice so she was just really frustrated, but we all know she wasn’t crying about the uber.”

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed and rubbed your back, “I talked to Steve and told him to stop hurting her, you know?” Bucky looked at Nat and she nodded, “like he can be mad at me for as long as he likes, but stop doing this to your own sister, I can’t stand to see her like this, it’s awful.”

“I know,” Nat was the only one invested in the conversation, everyone else would forget this in the morning. “I feel like it’s borderline…I don’t want to say slut shaming but I can’t understand why he would be mad at her, I feel like he’d blame it all on you and only take it out on you- I know you didn’t do this but I thought he was going to pull the ‘you coerced my sister into dating you’ card… I really don’t understand his silent treatment,” Nat sighed and took a swig from her water bottle.

“I guess,” Bucky sighed and picked you up, having to hold you tightly because you were asleep and unable to squeeze your legs around his waist. “I’m going to get her ready for bed,” Bucky tried his best to smile, “I really appreciate you, Nat, she needed this.”

“She did,” Nat ran her fingers over your hair, “as much as she’s going to hate the hangover I think she really drained her emotions out and just let go for a moment,” Nat smiled at Bucky, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Bucky left the kitchen, the moment he turned he turned the corner he saw Steve. He was trying to slip away after eavesdropping but Bucky caught him, all Bucky could do was keep walking; he’s said his piece.

“Is she ok?” Steve finally spoke as Bucky passed him with his chin up.

“From being shunned by her brother or her night out?” Bucky snapped, not even looking at Steve and heading to his room down the hall.

After making it to his room he got you ready for bed, cuddling up next to you and holding you close. He had already gotten the water and painkillers ready for tomorrow morning. All he could do now is hold you, making you as comfortable as possible.

As Bucky lay there with your head on his chest, hearing your drunk snores, he thought about Steve. Bucky reminisced all the days together, growing up and finding one another again. Part of him questioned if all of their history went away the moment he found out, was this really the breaking point for Steve? All he wanted was for you to be happy with your brother but selfishly, he wanted his friend back.

“I can, like, hear your brain,” you mumbled and hugged him tighter, “we’ll figure this out in the morning, just forget it happened and hold me normally, please.”

Bucky couldn’t help but smile, he rolled you both on your sides and kept you wrapped up. Getting into the familiar position his eyes started to feel heavy, and soon sleep took over.

********

Bucky stood in the kitchen by himself, sipping his coffee and watching the eggs and bacon cook. It has been two days since you had gotten drunk and Bucky talked to Steve, nothing had come out of Bucky’s attempt to get Steve to talk to you.

He could tell you were becoming depressed from losing your brother, the two of you were inseparable so it hurt a lot to have him cleanly break away from you. But all Bucky could do was continue to support you, and he did that by making you breakfast.

He flipped both eggs and poked at the bacon, trying not to have the grease spit back out at him, you were currently at the gym but he’d already be back in the room before you were done.

All at once, Sam ran into the kitchen, covered in sweat. “Barnes!” he yelled, “your girl is screaming at Steve in the gym-”

“Shit!” Bucky dropped everything and ran, quickly turning around and moving everything off the element while turning the stove top off. Bucky followed Sam all the way to the gym and busted through the door, immediately hearing your raging voice. “Everyone out!” he yelled at the agents standing and watching.

“Bucky, I can do this on my own!” you snapped at him, caught up in the anger towards your brother.

“I’m well aware,” Bucky put both of his hands out, “I’m just giving you two privacy, that’s all, love.” Bucky nodded when he saw you relax your shoulders, “I’m going to be right outside when you’re done, alright?”

Steve turned to Bucky, “you really love her?” he asked.

Bucky slowly tilted his head to the side, “I’ve been dating her for a year, crushing on her for two, and being fully hypnotized by her for three the moment she showed up to this place.” He looked at you, “can I keep going, or do you want this to still be you?”

“See,” you looked at Steve, “he cares about me, on a personal level that no one ever has,” you threw your arms in the air, “you need to accept this or I will have no problem sticking with Bucky.”

“You’d turn your back on your family?” Steve laughed to himself, “you’d seriously stay with him rather than your own brother-”

“You’re not even really my fucking brother, Steve!” the anger was making you jump in your spot, “when you found out I was related to you, you chose to keep me in your life, it was quick because you knew how much family meant to you,” you walked over to Bucky, taking his hand in yours, “well he’s my family now, and when shit got rough Bucky was not the one to run away, Steve…” you looked up at Bucky who couldn’t take his eyes off of Steve, “we can go now,” you whispered to him.

Bucky walked with you to your room, completely forgetting the breakfast he had made to lighten your day. The entire time you were talking about how much lighter you felt, having the ability to scream at him even though no solution was reached. As he listened to you his heart broke, you tried so hard to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal when in reality it was, you just weren’t letting yourself fully feel it yet.

Right as the door to your shared room closed you spun and pushed Bucky up against the wall, “I love you,” you breathed before kissing him harshly, it took Bucky three seconds before pulling away and trying to ask if you were alright, “I want passionate sex right now, I want you to fuck me, baby.”

“Woah,” Bucky whispered, “you’re not…honey, you’re not in the right mindset right now, this is not-”

“Please, Bucky,” you whined and dropped down to your knees, running your hand up and down his thighs, “I really want this.”

“Are you sure?” Bucky asked, shamefully getting hard. When you nodded he picked you up and threw you on the bed, “you tell me if you want to stop, alright?”

“I never want to stop,” you whispered into his ear before sucking on his ear lobe, moving down to kiss his neck.

“Do you want me to go down on you-”

“I’m already wet, just go,” you moaned, blindly reaching down and beginning to work on his pants.

The moment Bucky entered you, you pulled him close, letting his entire body weight crush you in a soothing sort of way. At first, his face was right before yours, kissing you every so often but really just wanting to look at you.

“Pretty girl,” he groaned and tucked his face in your neck, “fuck, I love you, it’s always been you, it’ll always be you, honey- holy fuck!” his hands were moving around, feeling you and touching you all over. “You’re fucking perfect, made for me, I got you,” he sucked harshly on your neck, “I’ll always protect you, and love you, and just-I’m gonna cum, honey.”

“Me too!” you threw your head back, “I love you, Bucky,” your fingers were splayed across his back, “all I want is to run away with you, just you.” your words of love quickly shifted in moans, all you could do was let yourself get lost in the moment.

Bucky had a strong aura, it was one that made you feel protected but also reminded you that he was your rock. Passionate sex with Bucky was something else, he could get you to your peak faster than anyone just because of how much love you feel as he whispers in your ear.

The moment you both let go was a moment of pure bliss, all you could do was dig your nails further into Bucky’s back as he rode out his own high. He stilled after finishing and just stayed there, keeping his head in your neck. While he whispered praises to you, part of you filled with love, an overwhelming amount.

“I love you, Bucky,” you tried to sound put together but the moment the words left your lips Bucky looked up at you, seeing tears stream down your face, “I’m not crying because I didn’t want it, it’s just…” you could see him freaking out, “it’s not you, it’s left over emotion from that fight.”

Bucky nodded and stayed where he was until you began to shift, he wiped you down and got beside you in bed after a while. He made sure you had enough water in your cup beside you and you were warm enough under those sheets. There were a few more sniffles, you’d wipe your face in the shirt Bucky put on because he was cold.

“I just want things to work out,” you cried, “why can’t he see I’m happy and just be happy for me?” your arms hugged Bucky tightly, feeling him hug you back just as tight.

“We’ll figure it out,” his lips brushed against your ear, “everything will work out, you just need to sleep, alright?”

It didn’t take much to knock you out.

********

Bucky’s mission was taking longer than expected but he wasn’t in any danger, his communications back to the compound were perfect with his updates. You weren’t allowed to know where he was or what he was doing but you were allowed time-frame updates, all because you held the title of ‘family’ for his file.

You stood at the stove with an apron on, it had caught three splashes which you were grateful for. The pasta sauce was bubbling so it was close to being done, you had gotten an update saying he was coming home in the middle of the night. If you or Bucky had a mission that ended late the other person would leave a meal in the fridge for when they got home, something easy to throw in the microwave.

“Hey,” you knew that voice from anywhere.

“Hi, Steve,” you said with your back to him. Nothing had changed since then and it had been over two months, Steve was slowly starting to adapt to you and Bucky showing affection in public but he still didn’t talk to you more than he needed to.

“What are you making?” you heard him pull out a bar standing at the island.

You were past trying to reconcile with him, he was the one acting like a child. “Pasta sauce, for Bucky,” you quickly added.

“Oh yeah, I heard he’s coming home tonight,” you could hear how uneasy Steve was, the way his voice slightly shook as he spoke to you.

You could feel his eyes burning holes in your back but you paid no mind, continuing to stir the pot and dodge the few bubbles. “Yep, late.”

“Yep…” Steve sighed but didn’t move, you could hear him just sit there.

Trying to meet him halfway was exhausting, it seemed there was nothing you could do to make him feel better except break up with Bucky. That wasn’t going to happen, it also helped that Bucky was very mature during this, always communicating with you about how he felt and if you needed anything. It further proved how immature Steve was, seeing that a man the same age was able to deal with their emotions perfectly.

FRIDAY came through on the speakers, “Sargent James’ jet is landing now.”

You spun around with a gasp, “he was supposed to be here at three in the morning,” you completely blew past Steve and ran to the land spot, laughing to yourself as you pictured hugging him.

The moment you opened the doors Bucky was already running to you, “there’s my girl!” he yelled and wrapped his arms around you the moment he could reach you, “no injuries for me, how was the month?” he whispered.

“Same as always,” you sighed, “but I’m so happy you’re home,” you nuzzled into his chest.

“He followed you outside, what’s that about?” you didn’t look over your shoulder, trusting Bucky was right. After pulling out of a hug Bucky called, “what are you doing out here?” towards Steve.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he was talking to Bucky, “I need to go for a walk with you.”

“Whatever you need to say can be said in front of y/n as well, bud,” Bucky wrapped his arm around you, “seeing as the situation involves her.”

“Look,” Steve walked up and rubbed the back of his neck, “I don’t fully approve of this but I do like the way you’re treating her, Buck, so…” he was awkward, not knowing how to word this because it seemed like a heat of the moment speech. “Yeah, I’m warming up to it.”

“Alright,” Bucky looked down at you, “I mean, that’s great but it doesn’t change anything about us, like,” Bucky laughed through the tension, “we’ve moved on like adults, I can honestly say we don’t care about what you think.”

“That’s a little intense,” you quickly added, “but I think what Bucky is trying to say is that we don’t need updates like this that you’re warming up to us dating because we are still going to date the same, your comfort is not a factor in our relationship.” you nodded and saw Steve’s face go red, “I hope one day we can be friends again and be buddies like before but right now, it’s team Bucky.”

Steve didn’t say anything else, he just watched you walk inside.

“Team Bucky?” he giggled in your ear, “I like it.”

You looked up at Bucky, “I have pasta sauce cooking, we can have it for dinner together.”

“Sounds good,” he kissed the crown of your head with his arm still wrapped around your waist, “can I make you a jersey that says team Bucky because I honestly love that?”

You laughed and fell into his side, “go for it,” he kissed you, “because it’s true.”

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[rahuratna]

In another universe, you and I ...

(But it's crack): PART 1

Summary: A short series in which the highly attractive sorcerers of JJK find themselves in an alternate universe with you (with a twist).

Part 1 includes:

Top Model! Gojo who meets you at a party. In spite of your instant chemistry, he harbours a dark secret ...

Naval Captain! Nanami, who has been hunted for years by his nemesis, the white leviathan who aims to show him his giant member. Will you stand by his side?

Genre: Humour, parody, crack

Warnings: sexual and suggestive content.

(I)

"You need a date."

"Mei Mei, I don't have a single free minute in my schedule at the -"

"Okay, let me rephrase that. You need to get fucked."

The coffee you've just taken a sip of diverts somewhere in the depths of your nasal passages, leaving you sputtering. Dabbing at your mouth with a napkin, you glance around the cafe while Mei Mei stirs her flat white, amused.

"Something wrong?"

"You know I'm not ... good at that kind of thing."

"A mystery, to be sure. You're an eyecatcher, even in that coat."

"What's wrong with my coat?"

"Listen." She leans forward, the crook of her lips conspiratorial. "I'm having a little get together at my new place. Kind of a housewarming. And I'm inviting some people I work with. You should come."

Mei Mei was an avante garde fashion photographer, known for her theatric sets. If she was hinting at what you thought she was, then ...

"You're telling me that you're inviting a ... bunch of models?"

"Some of my associates. So yes, models. And others. Just a relaxed little get together. What do you say?"

"I don't know ... I have to -"

"So you'll be there."

Her sly, red-lipped smile brooks no argument.

******

Tugging at the straps of the shimmering green dress Mei Mei had loaned you for the occasion, you took a breath before pressing the buzzer on the intercom that would give you access to the upscale compound. Mei Mei had pulled some strings to procure an apartment here, arranged by one of her well-connected clients in the fashion industry.

Gaining entry, you traversed the beautifully furnished foyer, with its black and white tiles and vintage lamps. The heels you wore were a lot higher than your usual choice, and you walked with the care of one who expected to twist their ankle at any given second. You hoped nobody noticed.

Mei Mei's get together was a relaxed, but lively affair, the buzz of conversation and the clink of glasses audible above the scent of various flowers her guests had brought her. She greeted you at the door and introduced you to a few of her colleagues.

Sipping champagne and appearing to listen intently to the lighting director who seemed to have an odd fixation on nipples under spotlights, the slow dawn of another's observation prickled against your skin.

You turned and surveyed the room, and you saw him. He was not exactly the kind of person you could miss. Tall, eerily beautiful, the ripple of lean muscle evident along the rangy lines of his body, his eyes capture you before anything else does. Blue as the most crystalline mountain lake, as clear, his pale lashes framing their illuminated surface, he is watching you with undisguised intrigue. The snowy hair, artfully disheveled, and the promise of a cheeky smile form a devastatingly handsome collection of features that blend together in a most pleasing fashion.

There was no mistaking it. This was the Gojo Satoru, one of the rising stars of the modeling world, a man who happened to look effortless in each and every one of his lauded photo shoots, many of which had already won awards.

And he was looking right at you.

Mei Mei had noticed his scrutiny of you, and she edged in, her soft introduction delivered with a smirk. She is gone faster than your eye can track, and now he's standing right opposite you, examining you with that laser-lit stare.

Clearing your throat, you swirl the remaining champagne in your glass.

"Gojo Satoru. I saw your cover on last week's Men's Wealth. It was ... really something."

He grins, pearly teeth catching the light of the chandeliers.

"Yeah? Which part of it did you like the most?"

"Which ... oh. The composition of the second photo was quite ..."

"Ahh, that one. Yeah. They just handed me the baby oil and told me to go to town. Didn't know it would be that slippery."

You choke slightly.

"So they don't give you ... more direction than that?"

"Oh no. I guess it's unique to me. I know what works best in my shoots and I get it done."

"Sounds like an interesting work ethic. I bet there aren't many models at your level who can say the same."

"Nah. I know I can be the best. I'm gonna be traveling to the New York Fashion Week tomorrow, and I barely know what's in store. They don't even bother telling me anymore."

His easy admission would sound arrogant from anyone else, but the confident assurance in his voice tells you that this man is simply stating facts. A frisson of something warm filters through you. As if his looks weren't already enough.

"Are you good at everything you put your hand to?"

Oh boy. The champagne had decided to assert its control over your mouth. Gojo doesn't seem to mind. If you're not mistaken, something is kindling in those fractured points of brilliance in his eyes too.

"I guess you could say that. I do have one vice, though. Something pretty incurable."

You lean forward, keen to hear this.

"A vice?"

"Yeah." His voice lowers to a secretive huskiness that turns the conditions in your underwear as humid as the Amazon rainforest.

"I kind of have ... a terrible sweet tooth. Can't get enough. I see something sweet, I want it right away."

He winks and sips from his glass, which you can see contains a cocktail with a fair amount of grenadine. You lick your lips, and his gaze follows the slick movement of your tongue.

"Oh? And what specific kinds of sweets do you like?"

"The classic kind."

He isn't touching you, but with the way his eyes rake over your form, he might as well be.

"I like spun sugar, light as air. The creaminess of a panna cotta. The burst of flavour on my tongue from a berry coulis. Give me some of that, and I'm yours, fair lady."

The upward quirk of his mouth is practically irresistible. It's what keeps you glued to his side for the rest of the night, while he, shockingly, seems to be thoroughly enjoying your company too. At times, you catch Mei Mei watching you both with discreet amusement and satisfaction.

At some point, she approaches and makes sure to thank Gojo for his assistance in obtaining this apartment. You glance over at him in surprise.

"Oh, Mei Mei did talk about that. I didn't know her contact was you."

"Sure was. I live just one floor up, actually. Put a word in with the owners and got her the place, no problem."

"So you own a place here too?"

He slides a hand into the pocket of his designer jeans, the glance he shoots you over his tinted glasses a clear invitation.

"Wanna come up and see the view?"

******

You had no idea how it had come to this. This wasn't you. And yet, here you were, in his apartment, the soft chatter of Mei Mei's party long forgotten in the frantic pace of your lips against his.

You both were barely in the door before his hands were on you, groping, caressing, mapping out every part of you sheathed in that increasingly cumbersome green dress. At the first opportunity, his fingers had stolen their way along the zipper and the material had slid down your legs.

You couldn't remember where your bra had been shed, probably somewhere just outside the bedroom.

He was surprisingly strong for someone with such a lean build. The corded sinew of his arms and back clearly weren't just for show. You found yourself tossed breathlessly onto the soft surface of the bed, as he surveyed you with a hunger that had your hands creeping south between your legs.

Satoru pauses, and suddenly there is a shift in the energy within the room. His face takes on a serious cast and his glance bends floorward. You sit up slightly.

"Satoru? Is everything - "

Eyes flitting briefly up to you, his throat bobs slightly as he swallows.

"Well. I guess this is a first for me. I don't usually do this, but ... I kinda want to see you again. After tonight, I mean."

You breathe out reverently. You certainly hadn't been expecting this level of vulnerability.

"And I want to see you again, too."

"So ... if that's the case then ... you need to see all of me. I can't hide this if we're going beyond a one night thing."

You're paying close attention now, reaching for him. He laces his fingers with yours.

What could this perfect man possibly be insecure about?

He takes a bracing breath before relinquishing your hand, stepping back from the bed and approaching the nightstand. Reaching into his mouth, he fiddles a little before plucking something away and placing it in a small container stored there. Turning back to face you, you see what he has been concealing.

The pearly teeth that had reflected such brilliant perfection in the light of Mei Mei's home were gone. In their place were a series of ill-formed, browning and misshapen stumps, many of them worn down completely. Your eyes snapped up to his, widening slightly.

"Satoru ... how - "

"I told you that I had a sweet tooth. I ... indulged myself as a child and my parents never stopped me. They spoiled me rotten in more ways than one! And now I'm  ... I'm paying the price."

"That's ... but why didn't you - "

"I'm going to have surgery soon to ... permanently fix it. But even if I do, my sweet tooth won't go away! It'll be with me forever. I'm ... "

His shoulders slumped slightly.

"Caramel icing. Berry coulis. Soft serve and rock candy. Even liquorice! Toffee! I can't - "

His voice breaks and you find yourself lunging across the bed towards him, enfolding him in a tight embrace. His breath washes over you, the foul tang of decay now noticeable. You understand how he couldn't keep something like this concealed beyond a one night stand. Your voice, when you speak, is infinitely soft.

"Satoru ... all this time ... were you avoiding proper relationships because you ... "

"I - yes."

His arms come up slowly around you, as if he is unused to the gesture.

"I couldn't even ... make them breakfast if I wanted to. Because then ... we'd have to brush our teeth together and they'd see ... "

"Oh, Satoru."

You press your mouth fervently against his, undeterred, mapping out each stump and broken edge with your tongue. He tastes like old coffee, milk gone sour, the cloying overripe sweetness of a fruit gone bad. But this is irrelevant to you, because you're kissing him.

You break away from him, watching those magnificent features of his freeze in shock.

"Wait ... you still want to - "

"Of course I want to. Come here."

The merry tap of fork and knife and Mei Mei's self-satisfied smile on the floor below would escape the both of you, as wrapped up in each other you had become. You vowed to yourself, running your fingers through his incredibly soft hair, that every morning from now on, you'd stand beside him at the bathroom sink and brush your teeth together.

Satoru missed the New York Fashion Week, but gained something far, far sweeter.

(II)

They call you Ishizu.

It isn't your true name, but it's one you'd accepted when you joined this crew. As the ship's surgeon, armed with your family's repertoire of skills and remedies, you'd managed to earn some credibility in your field. You'd saved more than one sailor's life.

For the brave fishing crews that traversed the Sea of Ruin, the vast stretch of unchartered water between this continent and the next, populated by scores of deadly sea beasts and treacherous archipelagos, the sea was a perilous temptress. Those with the skill and courage, not to mention a healthy dash of insanity, could make a substantial profit within a short time before retiring.

Such was the nature of Nanami Kento, Captain of the Casse Croûte, one of the few living men who had sailed the seven oceanic planes in all three seasons.

The Captain was an enigmatic man, to be sure. He'd come across as cold initially, sticking to such rigid timings and sailing plans that you'd wondered how any of his crew liked him. And heavens, did they adore the man. He had the undying loyalty of every person on board, and whenever you'd asked about it, they'd simply smiled and told you that you'd see with time.

So you waited and observed. Gradually, you began to see the qualities the crew so prized in him. When the cabin boy, Yuuji, almost fell into the jaws of a large sea beast with grey, cross-stitch skin, the Captain had drawn his cleaver and struck such a heavy blow across its nose that the creature immediately lost interest in a fisherman-sized snack.

When Sailor Ino, eager to prove himself, had set forth on an expedition on an unchartered island, only to return covered in large insect bites and a raging fever, the Captain had stayed up with him every night until the fever had broken. You'd never seen such dedication to the welfare of the crew.

There were many other such instances, and slowly, you found yourself gravitating to the quiet, charismatic captain as much as the others did. He was also unmistakeably handsome, with his kind, tired gaze, gleaming blonde hair, tall, muscular frame and clean-cut profile. In spite of his injuries, a missing eye and the damaged hand, he was also a formidable man. You'd be lying if you'd claimed that this dangerously attractive man hadn't intruded on your nighttime musings more than once ...

And on one particular night, while the next watch took their positions at the bell and you sat in the small galley that adjoined your surgery, he'd come in, nursing a steaming coffee, and kept you company. Slowly, he'd opened up to you, speaking of his days as a sailor, before he'd become Captain of the Casse Croûte, and what came after.

Something heavier lay over the conversation, though, something he seemed on the verge of telling you. Eventually, you pried it out of him. As you'd suspected, it was to do with his terrible injuries.

"Have you ever heard of the white leviathan?"

Swirling the coffee in his cup, his single eye glances up at you under dark lashes.

"I ... have heard some tales, yes. He's a legend, according to some."

"A living legend."

Seeing your eyes widen, he nods.

"Made off with a portion of my arm, and I'll never watch the sunrise with this eye again."

You exhale heavily.

"Captain ... I had no idea you'd encountered such a creature. What ... exactly happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"You should ask. After all, as long as I remain in command of this ship, he may yet make another appearance."

"What do you mean?"

"The white leviathan, also known as a Gojoverian Satorunus, is the strongest of its kind to be born in centuries. Normally, they keep to their distant isle, within the Lightning Archipelago, where few venture. He, however, roams the seas in an eternal quest."

"I've heard that legends call him the Meibi Dick. Is there ... a reason for that strange nickname?"

The Captain hisses through his teeth, one hand raising to his eyepatch, as if just the mention of that moniker has sunk a harpoon into his flesh. You hurry to apologise.

"Captain, I'm so - "

"Please. No need. Let me explain. That nickname ... was a direct result of my encounter with him."

"It was?"

"Indeed. It was a gloomy day, I remember. Rain was pelting down. We'd put out the sails, because the sea was quite still.  At that time, we came upon a wreck, out at sea. The ship had washed up on a great reef, and there it hung, a spectre of former glory."

You were now hanging on to Nanami's words like a crow with carrion.

"And the white leviathan had caused this?"

"Indeed, although we didn't know it at the time. I ordered some of our skilled divers to check the wreck for any possible survivors. There were none, but one of the divers came back with something. A large piece of purified ambergris, said to smell and taste as good to leviathans as the sweetest nectar. Its call to them is so strong, that it may even drive them into heat, causing mating events in their population when they come across it. In my folly, I took it on board for its great value."

"And what happened then?"

"That night, the white leviathan, which had destroyed the other ship for the ambergris, came for us. The scent had laid such claim to the beast's mind that its mating mark had bloomed on the skin near its head, which it displayed to us."

"Its mating mark?"

Reaching into his pocket, Nanami drew out a small notebook and charcoal stick. He sketched something on one of the blank pages before passing the book over to you. Your eyes widened as you took in the drawing. It looked like a crude, stylized penis with the testicles sketched in just below.

"Is this ... "

"His frightful member. Indeed. He was attempting to show us his intention in order to lay claim to the ambergris."

"What did you do?"

"I knew we stood no chance against him. Foolishly, I thought to outrun him. It was futile. He boxed us in at every turn, his plaintive, terrible cry echoing across the water to us. Eventually, I ordered for the ambergris to be thrown overboard. It only served as a distraction. The beast consumed it and resumed his chase. Due to how long I'd evaded him, he'd come to associate this ship, and me, the Captain, with the ambergris."

"But Captain, that means ..."

He nods grimly, and you are sorely tempted to reach across the table and take his hand.

"He will hunt this vessel to the ends of the earth. Why do you think I plan every stage of our voyage so carefully? I'm always one step ahead of him, monitoring and studying the tides, the currents, the beast shoals. As long as we stick to the plan, we have the ability to outrun him."

Hope flares in your chest, in spite of your growing fear.

"I have faith in you, Captain. So does this crew. We'll be beside you, if the white leviathan ever makes an appearance."

This time, you do take his hand in your warm, tentative grasp, watching as his eyes drink in your countenance in the dim light of the galley. He squeezes your fingers in return.

**********

The seasons at sea come and go, and its a full seven months and three days before Captain Nanami's perfectly timed schedule is threatened. A storm, the likes of which you've never encountered before, strikes with unpredictable ferocity. The ship is blown completely off course, and although it will take a few days to rectify, Nanami's dire mood is palpable.

If you didn't have full faith in your Captain, you might have considered this an overreaction on his part. But you knew better. You knew that his concern came from long experience.

A well-founded concern, as it turned out. The white leviathan made an appearance a mere two days after the storm, spotted far to starboard by the lookout, and gaining fast.

Captain Nanami forbade any of the crew joining him in his task of slaying the beast, but this was one occasion where nobody would follow his instructions. You all loved him too well. Come hell or high water, you would all be by his side.

And the leviathan approached, its size alone boggling the mind. The waves slapped and beat against the hull, the slow rise and dip of the deck more and more pronounced as it came closer. Nanami stood on the prow, facing the creature, the large harpoon readied by Yuuji in one hand, his trusty cleaver in the other.

Then, you heard it. The terrible call of the creature, booming across the water to batter at your ears. The grotesquely formed words were difficult to make out, but to your astonishment, they formed distinct speech that you could understand.

"Naaanaaamiiiin, letttsssss .... gooooooo oouutttt."

The Captain gritted his teeth, his own reply loud on the wind.

"Never, you foul creature!"

"Sompppthin .... impooorrtant .... talkkkkk tooooo youuuuuu .... "

"You've been chasing me for years! There's nothing this important! Begone!"

"Iiiiiiii .... havvveeennn'tttt...... saiiiiddd nyythiiing ... "

"I refuse!"

That groaning, awful cry had come closer and closer, forcing you to your knees, hands clasped over your ears. The Captain stood firm, even as the giant, pale form broke the surface of the sea beside the ship, the giant, electric blue eye surveying the vessel with the glee of a long awaited victory.

"Naaaanaaaaminnnnn .... "

And then, you saw it. The mark the Captain had spoken of, the giant member and testicles that appeared as scrawled marks from beneath the skin of the beast. It had not forgotten! And now, as the beast called out again, it dawned upon you in a flash where it's dreaded nickname had come from.

"Naaaanaaaamiiinnnnnn ... maaaaayybbeeeee  ... diiiiiiicckkkkkk?"

You lunged toward the Captain, grabbing at his leg to keep him steady as the deck pitched violently before the amorous leviathan. You saw Nanami looking down at you, that beautifully courageous gaze trained on your water-streaked face. He turned back to the monster.

"I will never accept your dick, you all-ruining, unambitious fish."

You grasped his leg harder, willing all of your strength into his good arm as his body uncoiled and the harpoon flew true through the eye of the storm.

Part 2:

Demon Lord! Geto and Fireman! Kusakabe

[sytoran]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐘 / wandanat x dom!r

being a supersoldier had its perks, surely: like being paired up with the black widow and scarlet witch on a mission, and getting to fuck them on that very mission.

──── ♥ pairing. sub!wandanat x dom!supersoldier!reader

──── ♥ cont. smut (18+), a semblance of a plot verging on shameless smut, cunnilingus, so much cunnilingus oh god, strap-on usage, established wandanat, overstimulation, a lot of it, possessiveness, jealousy, squirting, breeding kink, daddy kink, choking kink

──── ♥ note. reader is said to be buff & masc, no gendered pronouns are used. there is use of a strap-on though ;) word count is 3k lol

masterlist / AO3 / join the taglist

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

being a super soldier had its perks, surely.

chosen by professor erskine in 1943 to be injected with the super soldier serum, gaining an enhanced physique, then using it to save the world countless times? yeah. it was nice. being stuck in ice for seventy years? not that nice.

you know what was nicer, though? 

the women that came along with it.

no, you weren’t objectifying them, in any way or sort. it was just validating, receiving that kind of attention you so craved. it only took something as simple as walking along the street to be approached by an eager woman, body language very telling in what her end goal was.

and who were you to deny them?

nights that ended in your bedroom and clothes ripped to shreds was a common occurrence. despite the, uh, animalistic tendencies of those racy one-night-stands, you were always sure to make her breakfast the next morning. it was almost an apology for their shredded underwear. 

bucky, your loving asshole of a best friend, called that habit of yours ‘whore behaviour’.

you called it the super soldier theory.

as much of a — politely speaking — whore, you could be, no matter how rough or desperate or hot or messy the events of the previous night were, you were damn sure to make it accumulate into an unforgettable, wet dream-inducing, masturbation-worthy one.

and what better to top that off with a pleasant breakfast? you’d known the empty feeling of waking up to a cold bed, so you’d make sure there was still some level of pleasantry and chivalry.

—

well, that fine theory of yours would come into action much sooner than expected.

“fuck,” you groaned into the pillow, as your alarm resounded around the empty apartment of your house. that day was a monday, and you were in no mood to go to the SHIELD compound to begin work.

that could mostly be blamed on the searing pain in your back that was the result of last night’s endeavours, but there was nothing wrong in a little sexual activity, was there? well, by little you meant a lot, but linguistics don’t matter.

in fact, nothing mattered when you were paired up with the scarlet witch and black widow on a new mission.

god bless nick fury.

you were currently huddled in SHIELD’s meeting room for pre-mission administrative bullshit you didn’t give a damn about. sorry, maria. 

the object of your attention was the black widow, in her skin-tight full-body black suit, showing off flattering curves, and the scarlet witch, in a low-cut top that revealed a generous cleavage. you weren’t staring, you really weren’t.

but when natasha moved to brush her lips against wanda’s ear, eyes however darting to you, and the way wanda responded in kind, glancing at you and giving you a little wink…… it was doing things to you.

it was almost as if they were putting on a show for you, in all your super-soldier, openly queer glory. 

you weren’t really taken aback by wanda and natasha's relationship, in all honesty, because the two never seemed to get enough of each other. what you were taken aback by, on the other hand, was their interest in you.

natasha and wanda had an inexplicable attraction towards you, only growing more touchy when they knew you were watching because of the knowledge that your eyes would inevitably find theirs. 

you had tried to ignore at first, the palpable sexual tension between the three of you, that only grew with the passing days, but soon it was all too much to be overlooked.

the day the dam broke, was the day of that very mission.

—

“target spotted,” wanda says in your earpiece, sharp and steady. the lilt of her sokovian accent wasn’t loss on your keen ears, and it made you swoon just a little. 

the mission was a clear-cut one, straightforward and supposedly simple. secure the target, steal the harddrive, export the information, then out. you didn’t really understand why SHIELD needed two of their best agent and two avengers for this, but maybe they just wanted to play it safe.

the destination of the mission was a high-end fancy banquet hall, thus you were all dressed to class.

wanda was dolled up in a velvet green dress, matching her eye-color. it went off her shoulders, exposing the sleek collarbone and accentuating the curve of her breast. the slit of the dress ended dangerously high on her right thigh, showing off bare skin. natasha was wrapped up in a eulalia red satin dress, downright sinful in the way it hugged the curve of her breasts and her hips. the backless dress was a pleasant treat for your eyes.

not to be arrogant, but you think you didn’t look too bad yourself, what with a tailored black suit — the fabric hugged your broad shoulders leading a smaller waist, and was tight-fitting at the arms, showing off the curve of impressive biceps. the collared shirt underneath was unbuttoned low enough to expose a tattoo, that could only be deciphered upon closer examination.

"bald guy, navy blue suit. chatting up a blonde girl on the left side of the pillar with the painting of a ballerina.” 

upon wanda’s jurisdiction, your eyes find the target easily. you also don’t miss the copious amonuts of bodyguards stationed throughout the banquet hall. 

“we have eyes on him,” natasha’s voice in your ear now. “y/n and i will distract him. wanda, you get the hard disc drive, which is conveniently placed in his pocket.” wanda voices her agreement.

suddenly, you feel a hand on the middle of your back, and you almost jump. it’s natasha, and if your eyes ever travelled to her breasts, no they didn’t.

natasha loops her arms around you, hands interlocking behind your neck. she smiles serenely. you gulp at the close proximity between the two of you. 

“what-”

“kiss me.”

before you can lift a finger to react, before you can say that there’s people here, natasha pulls you in for a kiss, and an explosion of fireworks erupt in your stomach.

god, it’s so surreal, the feel of her lips on yours. no, they’re not velvety soft or perfectly unblemished, but the fact that it’s natasha, delicate yet desperate, makes you want to die.

realizing that this might be the only chance you ever have with the black widow, even if it is just a mission, you chase her lips in a flurry. your left hand goes to cup at her waist possesively, just knowing it would rile up the target who was most definitely watching, and your other hand wraps itself around her neck.

natasha lets out an airy sound — you selfishly hope that it was your doing, not just a play for the audience — and she tugs at your collar, pulling herself closer to you. despite being somewhat in the corner of the hall, the quickly-gained attention is a little unsettling.

you move to break apart slowly, before natasha’s fingers find your belt loops and her lips are on yours once again. she moves with a goal in mind, this time, hot breaths and tongue flooding your senses. 

you know that this means something more than a mission, but that thought is buried somewhere far in your depleting conscience. you can only hope that wanda takes longer to retrieve the harddrive.

fighting to return natasha’s renewed fervour, you greedily grab at her breasts, playing with the mounds of flesh as she breathes into your kiss. 

before you know it, natasha is dragging you up the winding stairs, through the crowds of judgemental whispers and wide-eyed stares.

“what about- what about the target,” you ask, helplessly and breathlessly, struggling to find a semblance of order. it’s hard, when natasha’s ass is right in your line of vision. 

you’re shoved into the elevator of the posh building. you’re about to question why on earth the security guards aren’t doing anything, before the redhead is kissing you again.

“shut up and fuck me,” she pants into the kiss, pressing a random floor of the building. you finally oblige, knowing that this was a one-in-a-million chance.

oh, fuck the mission.

you ruck her skirt up, pushing her bare ass against the cold metal of the elevator. natasha squirms in your grasp, and desperately rub your palm against her cunt. she grinds against it like its sweet solace.

“more,” natasha pants into your ear, and you shove a hand up into her panties in the moving elevator, any semblance of respect and public courtesy long gone.

once the elevator door dings open, natasha drags you out, leading you into one of the rooms by your tie. you try to grasp at any part of her you can reach, but she stays cleverly out of reach.

the door slams shut, and suddenly you’re face-to-face with wanda maximoff. 

“what the fuck is happening,” you breathe, feeling natasha take off your suit jacket from behind. “am i- am i dreaming?”

“oh baby, we’re a lot better than whatever dreams you’ve been having, i can assure you,” wanda says casually, red tendrils of magic swirling around her fingers then around your body. you’re knocked into the bed, forced to sit at the edge.

wanda lifts a finger to trace a long, red nail across the purple hickey on your neck from last night. you clench under her languid touch, and wanda hums in visible appreciation at your bulging muscles.

"i could do better than that," she purrs through sharp teeth, grazing over the faded hickey. 

you hiss through kissed teeth, frustrated at being unable to move your limbs. as a super-soldier, it was almost embarrassing to be rendered useless so easily, but thankfully the knowledge that wanda was just about the most powerful being in the universe was consolation. 

“what about the mission?” the question barely leaves your lips before wanda promptly sinks her teeth into your flesh between the neck and your shoulder.

“calm down, sweetheart,” natasha purrs, undoing the buttons of your shirt. “we’ve taken care of it already.” wanda waves the harddrive in front of you, before tossing it to the side. 

you don’t find the heart in you to question her. wanda straddles you, and when she kisses you, you kiss back. natasha’s kiss from earlier meshes into this one, and you can taste them, simultaneously. it drives you mad, almost.

wanda lets out a moan, and you take advantage of her moment of weakness to spin the two of you around. you press wanda into the position you were previously, while you get down in front of her, your face at the same level as her pussy. you grin up at her.

while wanda had pinned you down with her magic, you had pinned her down with the sheer force of your enhanced physique. spreading her legs open, you murmur, “two can play this game. or three, i suppose.”

natasha lets out a humoured bark of laughter. “hm, you two have your fun. i’ll have my turn later.”

wasting little time in getting what you wanted, you helped wanda undo her dress, letting it fall to the floor. ripping off her panties with your teeth, natasha let out an impressed whistle while wanda turned as red as her hair.

you used your thumbs to spread her glistening folds open, allowing you to see just about everything. wanda whined, at being all spread out, your hungry eyes never leaving cunt.

"hurry up," she gasps, jerking when you let out a slow exhale, warm air making her clit throb. 

it’s all good fun at first, wanda teasing you while you lap at her cunt hungrily. she’s playing with your hair, nails scraping at your neck. she reaches her first orgasm embarassingly quickly.

it’s only after another one that wanda realizes, once you’ve latched your mouth onto her divine pussy, you’re not taking it off anytime soon.

“baby,” she asks hesitantly, breaking off into a moan when your tongue finds her stiff clit.

you bury your head deeper, letting out a low hum in response. the vibrations send tingles all up her stimulated cunt, and wanda jerks, clenching around you.

“baby,” wanda pleads, airy and hazy. you let out a guttaral sound from the back of your throat, the pit in your stomach burning as she moans your name. you respond in kind, shoving your tongue in a little deeper. wanda screams your name.

she tasted too good, too sweet, too pretty. wanda’s overstimulated cunt is positively throbbing, uncontrollable gushes of white cream going all over your face. you lap it all up, gripping onto her thighs.

“daddy, stop,” she whimpers, trying to yank your head away. the way that title falls from her lips is divine. but you’re adamant in getting what you want, so you ignore her pleads and go back to devouring her hungry pussy. god, you couldn’t get enough of her taste.

wanda has tears in her eyes, unable to form anything but moans and shrieks as you bring her over the edge again and again. throughout the minutes, you never let down, only picking up your pace with each sweet cry of your name.

there was only one way to abuse your super-soldier stamina, right?

god, she was so wet, her pussy so drenched it goes into her ass, then staining the sheets and soaking through the mattress. you don’t fuckin’ stop, can’t stop, only craving to break her and make her ascend.

it’s only after several more earth-shattering orgasms that natasha roughly yanks you away, having had enough of your fun. your eyes are defiant, flashing, until they lock with natasha’s.

and boy, was that a sight you’d remember.

the normally green eyes of natasha were darkened into a sea of black, pupils so dilated you swore you could see through them, through the lust and the longing. trailing your eyes south, the hand shoved up her panties was now completely soaked — god, had she managed to fit four fingers in there? 

her breathing was ragged, the only semblance of normality being the widow-hardened grip on your jaw. you look up, letting her see just how damp your face is, from completely devouring wanda. 

“it’s my turn, babe,” natasha says through a shaky breath, raising an eyebrow in a challenge. to your surprise, she throws a strap-on at you, bright red. it’s far larger than what you would expect from her.

nonetheless, you smirk, more than happy to oblige. 

but first, you casually carry the passed-out wanda to settle into the left side of the bed. you place a chaste kiss on her forehead, as natasha’s eyes twinkle in amusement.

“don’t try to play the gentleman card, after you fucked her brains out.” natasha comments with a lazy grin. you shake your head, returning that grin in kind. “gotta reputation to uphold,” you quip, letting natasha unbuckle your pants.

your black boxers are damp, to no one’s surprise — wanda’s moans were surely something. natasha trails her hand over it, licking her lips, then lays down on the bed next to wanda, conveniently spreading her legs.

“uphold your reputation then,” natasha laughs, humming in appreciation at your visibly aroused expression.”treat a lady right.”

you put on the strap-on in record timing, not missing the way natasha’s eyes are on your hands as they fly expertly over the harness, fastening it in place with experienced haste. 

“on your hands and knees. face the wall.” you command, and natasha obeys. she uses her hands to spread her ass, teasing you. your eyes darken.

before natasha can let the witty remark slip from the tip of her tongue, you’re easing the silicone cock into her pussy from behind. mounting her like a rabbit in heat, you’re soon rutting into her.

“fuck,” natasha cries, clenching around you, so tight and hot and wet and delicious.

“pretty girl,” you growl mindlessly, letting the cock slide in and out of her hungry pussy. your eyes burn, muscles straining as you use natasha like a little rag doll, all her supposed witty teasing gone by the time you’re done with her.

it was so enticing and entrapping, the way her pussy wraps around your faux cock, how she was pulling away from the overstimulation, yet pulling you in with desperation.

screams and whines of your name bounce of the walls, until you’re heftily sure that the entire banquet hall can still hear her.

after minutes, or hours — no, time was a social construct and irrelevant when it came to mindblowing sex — you finally stopped. even your supersoldier physique was sore, so how on earth natasha and wanda had coped stumped you. 

the room reeked of sex and sweat and cum, as your brain was still catching up on what on earth had actually fuckin’ happened.

and yet, you don’t think you could get enough of them, not even with your head buried in wanda’s pussy for an eternity, or your plastic cock shoved so far up natasha it kissed her womb.

so it didn’t come as a surprise, when the black widow and the scarlet witch woke up in your apartment the next morning, completely naked, the only trace of your presence being the wafting smell of pancakes in the kitchen.

the super soldier theory strikes again.

taglist: @natashamaximoff69 @ohsugar-honey-iced-tea @fayhar @bibliophilicbi @screechcat @rowanyaboats @nahnahnahwhat @the-night-owl-blr @nemowevoli @wannabe-fic-reader @natsxwife @wandsmxmff @enanna-h @gay4lizzie @jemilyswhor3 @manyfandomsfanvergent @scarsw1fe @jlsammy23 @gingerninja-93 @spongebobs-tie1 @kiyozoe6778 @Lovebelt @girllcver @lexscursed26 @godsfavouritelesbiann @bvrxbre @zekespisshair @alcolanic @ezay @forthelesbians @wlwfanfictionss @forthelesbians @cowxpoke @supaheroine @saqua14 @olsensnpm @33-mrvl @gay4ols3n @knellyc30 @eatkobi @stitch26gp @cqllarbqne @lovelyy-moonlight @diannaswhore @wandaromanoff69

wheww this was a ridee. really hope yall enjoyed it :) reblog pretty please? (begging like a bottom? yes i am)

masterlist / AO3 / join the taglist

[ynstark]

His Angel - (Part One)

Title: His Angel (Part One)

Characters/Pairings: Post!Endgame!Steve Rogers x Female!Adoptive!Stark!Virgin!Reader

Summary: You confide in Steve that you're a virgin. He's honesty shocked, but maybe he can be you first and hopefully you last.

Reader is in her 20s and Steve is in his mid 30s.

Minors DNI! Please and thank you!

Contents/Warnings: explicit smut, use of the nickname Angel a lot, mentions of death, talks of a toxic father, kissing, vaginal fingering, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, hint of a praise kink, talks of intercourse, talks of sex!toy use, angst, aftercare, Steve has a little bit of an ego, it's tiny, hopefully I listed them all, If I didn't let me know!

Author's Note: Ummm Hi, so I wrote my first fanfic. I've been studying the dark arts for a while and decided to take a crack at it. I don't know the word count, it came out ridiculously long. I just wrote whatever came to my head. Takes place a year after Tony's Memorial. This is a one time thing and won't happen again because I don't think I could write something like this ever again. Edit: Well, I started writing a prequel which takes place right after Tony's Memorial. So 20 likes and I'll drop that, but this is not happening again. Edit, Edit: This is now going to be pt 1 and there will be a pt 2 on top of the prequel. I didn't mean to write a lot of backstory, but it happened. If you squint, Steve is a soft!dom. I didn't grammar check so I apologize for any spelling or grammar errors. Do not repost my work anywhere. Likes and reblogs are welcomed and appreciated. Peace and love, enjoy. 🤍

Tonight was the night, you're going to loose your virginity to Steve Rogers. Everyone was on a mission for the past few days except for you and Steve, which left the whole compound to yourselves. You had confided in Steve one night that you were still a virgin, which came as a total shock to him. You were a fireball with confidence cascading out of you like water. Any man would be lucky to have you, but he also remembered your past and how your own father had treated you, which is why Tony adopted you after the snap.

Tony and your father worked together for years, but Tony knew the truth. You always had to convince him not to intervene for the sack of your mother, but then the snap happened and your mother was one of its victims. Tony had a good case for custody. He wasn't going to leave you in the care of your father and stand by and watch. Natasha also became a mother figure to you. Visiting you when she could and training you, which led to you going on missions. Tony didn't love that, but he knew you enjoyed going on them and you were a good asset to the team. You got to be a big sister to Morgan and Tony got to experience what it was like to have a grown up daughter and a new born at the same time, which he was grateful for before he died.

Tony left a letter for Steve asking him to take care of you. He knew you were a capable woman and that you could take care of yourself, but with him and Natasha gone, he knew you would drown emotionally. At least Tony could leave you in peace knowing you had Steve to lean on. After the memorial, Steve would check in on you. He would call you, visit you at your apartment or you would go to his. He would make sure you went to therapy, asked if you had visited Pepper and Morgan, or that you were taking care of yourself. You two grew close. The compound was finally rebuilt, which you and the rest of the avengers were grateful for. It was nice to be living with each other again. Steve started to call you Angel. He saw how your eyes had a little twinkle in them when he called you that. Bucky and Sam teased him about it. They could tell that Steve was falling for you the more he got to know you. Steve knew this isn't what Tony meant when he asked him to "take care of you", but Steve knew he couldn't ignore what he was feeling. He just didn't want to cross a line if you weren't ready. The problem was, he couldn't tell if you were.

Even though you knew that not all men were bad, especially being close to all the men in the avengers, your own father really set the example that you couldn't trust them, or tell if they had good intentions with you. The conversation with Steve took place one night when Steve decided to cook dinner for the two of you at the compound. Steve asked for your assistance in the kitchen, he really has no idea what he's doing. You sat on the counter giving him pointers and watching him to make sure he didn't burn anything.

"So, you're a virgin?" Steve asked, his curiosity fully peaked as he worked over the stove.

"Yup, unless you count using a dildo, but otherwise, no, I have not had the full experience."

"Never had someone go down on you?" You shake your head no to his question.

"Fingered you?"

"N.O. Rogers."

"Your first kiss?" He was definitely prying now.

"No." You could feel the loneliness set in you again.

"Pretty pathetic huh?" You looked down at your feet. Steve turned towards you, an empathetic look in his eyes, he could sense your mood had shifted.

"Hey, known of that, you're not pathetic. I've only slept with one person, and well, kissed Natasha."

"You kissed Natasha!" You asked surprised at his new confession.

"It was one time and she kissed me! It was so we didn't blow our cover. I'm surprised she never told you about it." Steve went back to stirring the pasta.

"Well she probably didn't want that image tattooed in my brain, it's also more believable that she kissed you." You snickered.

"Ha ha, very funny." he responded, you laughed again, making Steve get a little defensive. "Hey! I have game!"

"Really! I would love to see it in action Rogers."

"Well maybe I can try it out on you." Steve wanted a hole to open up and swallow him whole, he couldn't believe he actually said that out loud to you. Before he had time to retract his statement, you responded with, "Hmm, maybe." Steve paused to look over at you, he could sense no discomfort from you, you were actually serious.

"I'm sorry, did I hear a "maybe" Angel?" Steve stopped what he was doing to give you his full undivided attention. You sat there with that confidence he loved so much radiating off of you. You wanted him to actually try. Steve turned the stove off and slowly approached you. He knew he had to be careful with you. He couldn't just take you right here in the kitchen, even though he'd love to see you fall apart for him on his cock bent over the kitchen counter. "Control yourself Rogers." He thought to himself. Steve didn't want to trigger you. Once he was in front of you, you slightly spread your legs so he could stand in between them. You bit your bottom lip in anticipation and boy did Steve get hard once he saw your bottom lip disappear between your teeth.

"Can I touch you Angel?" He asked gently, you nodded. A tiny please slipped out from your lips. Steve chuckled a little. Guess he had that effect on you. He started with his hands on your thighs working their way up to your hips and then settling them on your bum. He gave it a little squeeze and you jumped at his motion, but not in a scared way, more of a "Please continue. I like what you're doing" way. Your hands travel up to fold behind his neck as Steve pulls you closer, you could feel his erection against you.

"So that's what that feels like." Steve couldn't help but burst out laughing at your statement, throwing his head back. You joined in on his laughter.

"Yes Angel, that is what an erection feels like." He responded still laughing.

"I did that to you?!" Your complete oblivion of a man's reaction to you made Steve want you more.

"Shit I didn't know we were that powerful." You continued, Steve thought, "If this woman only knew what power she has over me."

"Very powerful, if you told me to sacrifice myself, I'd do it in a heartbeat." Steve had the biggest dopey smile on his face as you laughed at his response. Once both of your laughter settled down, the reality set back in. Questions started to swirl in your head. Were you really ready to go through with this and let Steve have unconditionally access to you in the most intimate way possible? Could you get out of your head and let a man shower you in an abundance of love that you had never experienced before? You were brought out of your swirling when Steve got your attention by asking his own question.

"Angel, can I kiss you?" Steve asked, trying not to freak you out, but he could see the tiny panic in your eyes already, he starts to pull back, but you grab his arms.

"I need five minutes, I'll meet you in your room, I just need to get myself together. Can I have five minutes?" you asked quickly.

"You can have all the time in the world." He laughed, "What about dinner?" His eyes wonder over to the unfinished pasta in the pot.

"Screw dinner, you're about to screw me!" You jump off the counter and out of his arms, Steve couldn't help but smile. You're racing out of the kitchen when you turn around to tell him again, "Five minutes, okay?"

"Five minutes Angel, I'll be there." You leave him in the kitchen to clean up the dinner that never happened, racing to your room, and locking the door behind you. You take a few deep breaths. Tonight is the night, you're going to loose your virginity to Steve Rogers. You quickly change into a pair of comfy clothes, deciding to forgo your under garments. What's the point when Steve was going to rip you out of them anyway. You fixed your hair to have some form of sex-appeal. Quickly shaved and moisturized. You looked in the mirror, you did what you could on short notice, if anything you looked cute instead of sexy. Still looking in the mirror, you hyped yourself up. "You got this, Steve would never hurt you." You walked out of your room and headed to Steve's. It's more comfortable for you to go to his room than to let him into yours. You never had a man in your room except for Sam or Bucky when they stole your snacks now and then.

Steve patiently waits for you, sitting on his bed when he hears your tiny knock. Eyes glimmering with adoration when he opens his door and sees you. Even though you changed into a t-shirt and shorts, he still thought you were absolutely beautiful, breathtaking.

He closes the door behind you, he can see your mind whirling, you become timid. He knows this is new territory for you, he has to be, no, wants to be gentle with you. He's going to treat you like a porcelain doll the first time around. Even though you could kill someone just by looking at them, but here you are, choosing to be the most vulnerable and intimate with him.

"We don't have to do this tonight Angel, could just cuddle and watch a movie." He watches as you ponder on the alternative.

"No, I want to try, I trust you Steve." He saw the trust in your eyes, you were ready to give him complete access to you.

Steve nods and approaches you, slowly, putting his hands on your waist. You melt into his touch bringing your own hands against his chest. He kisses your forehead as you breathe out a sigh of relief. He pulls away just enough to cup your chin so you can look up at him.

"At any moment you feel uncomfortable, you tell me to stop, okay?" You nod.

"Words Angel." You look up at him again, giving him a quiet "Okay."

Steve looks into your eyes one more time to make sure you were really okay with this. Once he saw no changes in your mood, he proceeds to lean down.

"Let's try this again, can I kiss you Angel?" You respond with a quiet yes. Steve kisses you softly and gently. You melt into his lips. He pulls you closer against him, moving one hand to cradle the back of your head.

Your hands moved down to the hem of his shirt, giving him the signal you wanted him to take it off. In one swift motion his shirt was off and his hands back on you in an instant. He starts to slowly push you back until you land on his bed. He crawls on top of you, making sure to not apply his entire weight on you and plants a short kiss on your lips.

"Can I take this off?" He asked, slightly tugging at your shirt.

"Yes." You respond as he helps you sit up, slowly peeling off the material from your body. Your nipples instantly pebble once the cool air hits them. Steve's eyes gleam, he then looks back at you, leaning forward and whispers against your lips, "Absolutely beautiful, Angel."

He kisses you again, laying you down his bed once more. All you could do was smile. He comes back up and motions to your shorts, "And these? Can they come off too?" You nod with a smile and respond with a yes. He slowly rolls them down your legs leaving quick kisses on your thigh. Soft whimpers leave your mouth. Your left completely bare to him.

"No panties Angel? And here I thought you were a good girl." Steve smirked down at you. He takes in your bare form, his Angel, his beautiful virgin angel, ready for him to claim. He slowly positioned himself between your legs, hands gripping your thighs as his face comes face to face with your most intimate part. You feel his warm breath against you and you let out a little cry. "No reason to keep quiet Angel, there's no one here to hear you but me, be as loud as you want." Steve didn't mean to drag this out, but he knew he couldn't rush into this. He doesn't want to break the trust you granted him.

"Angel you're dripping, gonna touch you okay? Gonna make you feel good." He waits for your yes, moving one of his hands to your clit, his thumb making small circles on your little bud. "Stevie." You moan out. You felt your heart flutter, no one has ever touched you like this, let alone seen you like this. You prop yourself on your elbows to watch him.

"Think you can take one of my fingers?" He asks, you nod eagerly. He slowly enters his middle finger into your needy hole. His finger was definitely bigger than yours, but not big enough like one of you dildos. It's definitely been a while since you used one. The stretch feels nice. He lets his finger slide in and out of you as your walls flutter around his finger. "Feels so good Stevie." Yours eyes close and more whimpers fell out from your lips.

"That's it Angel, make a mess for me." Steve lets out a little moan himself realizing how tight you actually are. "Fuck you're so tight. Wondering how my cock will fit." You moan loud at his realization. He lets out a little chuckle, "Don't worry Angel, we'll make it fit, maybe I should just stretch you out tonight instead? Hmm?" He already knows your answer.

"That's not funny Steve, you wouldn't dare." There was his strong willed girl. You look at him with determination that you're going to take his cock tonight whether it hurts or not and Steve is happy to oblige. "Don't worry your pretty head. You'll get my cock tonight, but I need to do a proper tasting first." Another string of loud whimpers leave you. Steve slowly removes his finger, he couldn't wait to dive head first into your pussy.

"Ready Angel?" You give him a whinny yes at the anticipation. Finally lowering his mouth to your weeping hole, his tongue making contact to the place his been dying to try. Your head falls back and a song of moans leaves your throat. Steve was grinning like the cheshire cat. He continues his assault, dipping his tongue in you occasionally, which you seem to like a lot. He makes a mental note of that. The foreign feeling of his tongue becomes pure pleasure. Your fingers could never create the feeling of what Steve's tongue was doing to you. He laps at you like it's his final meal. Steve comes up for air making the comment, "Tastes like pure honey, could eat you out forever Angel." He dives back in, applying more pressure and you buck your hips up in excitement. You try to close your thighs, but Steve isn't having it, his grip is impossible to fight. You weave one of your hands into his hair, fingers scratching his scalp, pulling him closer to your core. Steve lets out a moan of satisfaction. He knows you close and ready to finally have your release. A few more licks and your dam breaks. The high and pleasure is unlike anything you have ever felt. Steve keeps his tongue pressed to your clit to help you ride out your orgasm. You come down from your high, clearly out of it, in the best way possible.

"Still with me Angel?" Steve comes up from your pussy.

"Uh Huh" You couldn't say anything else. Your brain was so fuzzy. Steve had given you one of the best orgasms in your entire life. Steve looks at you and sees your face. He knows that look. You're so fucked out, maybe he pushed you too far tonight.

"We can stop tonight Angel, you did so good." Steve responds, ready to cuddle you for the rest of the night.

You think about it, you really do want to be with it when Steve makes you cum on his cock, you know, get the full experience.

"As much as I want you to fuck me, you really wiped me out. That was, really good Steve. Thank you." You breathe out, panting.

"You're welcome Angel. I promise to fuck you properly soon, it's a date." He kisses the inside of your thigh and gets up to get you a glass of water, which you happily accept and a wash cloth to clean you up. He comes back handing you the glass and gets to work on cleaning you. He can tell your sensitive when he hears you whimper from his touch. He tries not to stimulate you to the best of his ability. After he's done, he puts the wash cloth in the laundry basket and comes back to lay down next to you. He watches you as you catch your breath, admiring your fucked out state, knowing he's the one who caused it.

You finish the water, placing the glass on the nightstand and find your way back to him, lying across his chest. Steve engulfs you in his arms and pulls the covers up to encase you in a warm embrace. His fingers lightly drawing patterns across your back, as he places another kiss to your forehead. You and him stay like this for the rest of the night, enjoying the comfortable silence. It takes Steve back to a time where all you two knew was silence amongst each other. Now, he doesn't mind it, especially if it leads to you curdled up in his arms. He's glad that you chose him to be your first and he's definitely going to make sure he's your last. No one touches his Angel, but him.

"Good night, Angel." He whispers into your ear, pulling you closer to him. "Night Stevie." You slowly drift off to a deep and peaceful sleep, knowing that Steve will be right there when you wake up.

Hope you enjoyed! 🤍

[hard-core-super-star]

if you're weak, come to me [wandanat]

pairing: top!natasha romanoff x bottom!wanda maximoff

summary: wanda gets injured during a mission and natasha is TOTALLY fine with that (not). they seek each other's comfort in the only way they know how.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT -> porn with so many feelings and a dash of plot; mentions of dom/sub dynamics; natasha has so many feelings and no way of verbalizing them; wanda's brattiness is implied; fingering {wanda receiving}; flirty banter; begging; teasing; so many kisses; non-fatal injuries; mentions of blood; not mentioned but this takes place somewhere between age of ultron and civil war

wordcount: 3.6k

a/n: so...this week has been a LOT, i have many thoughts but they're all scattered and filled with rage so i'll save them for another time. the U.S election results have left me feeling both incredibly hopeless and numb and to counteract the heaviness of the moment, i decided to finish this fic instead of spiraling or doomscrolling. easier said than done but it's fine. thank you so much to the lovely person who commissioned this, i had a great time writing for this paring. i still don't feel super confident about my characterization of natasha but it's getting there 😅 anyway, enough rambling, i'm sending you guys all my love and support, my askbox is always open <3

* * * * * * *

No one said being an Avenger was easy.

Outside of the long hours, and the possibility of the world ending every other day, there were the unmeasurable amounts of guilt and regret and worry that seemed to plague each and every one of them. They could probably keep a whole building of therapists employed with the amount of trauma they carried.

Everyone at the compound was well aware of their personal situations, but no two felt it as strongly as Natasha and Wanda. There was no denying how well they worked together, how easy their chemistry was, the way they knew exactly what to do to stop each other from spiraling when they needed it most.

Unfortunately, there were moments where their worries clashed together and left them feeling worse than usual.

Moments like today.

Wanda had been chosen to go on a mission without Natasha and the widow had managed to threaten just about everyone she could think of until she was able to go with her girlfriend.

It all would have been fine had the witch not been incredibly annoyed by what she felt to be an overreaction. Even that would have been fine if they hadn't ended up going on the mission while they were still upset with each other.

They weren't mad enough to not worry about each other, but they still chose to go separate ways and focus on getting different things done. Something that would have been fine had Wanda not been ambushed by far too many enemy agents at once.

Steve had been the closest one to the witch and had managed to get there before things turned too sour. Unfortunately, that had been enough to make the Widow spiral. She'd heard her girlfriend request backup in that shaky voice that gave away her fear and she'd been unable to do anything about it.

If Steve had taken any longer to get to Wanda...she didn't want to think about what could have happened. She couldn't think about it.

And yet it was the only thing on her mind on the way home.

The mission had been successful, but she still felt like a failure. Like somehow, despite how inaccurate of an assessment it was, it had all been her fault. If she hadn't allowed her ego to get the better of her, she would have been there. She would have been able to help her girlfriend before she got hurt.

The witch wasn't mortally wounded in any way, but that didn't matter to her.

Wanda, for her part, felt fine. Sure, she was sore and in pain and bleeding, but she was an Avenger, getting hurt came with the territory.

It became obvious to her that her girlfriend didn't feel the same way as her when the redhead decided to ignore her on the way home. The Quinjet was small, and yet the distance between them felt massive.

It wasn't like her to sneak into people's minds without permission, but this was different. This was Natasha, and her concern for her outweighed most of her guilt around using her powers around her.

Maybe it was a bad idea, but she did it anyway, and it allowed her to see the pain her girlfriend was carrying on her shoulders. It pained her to know Natasha was blaming herself. That she didn't believe she was worth all the love the younger woman had for her.

There wasn't an easy solution to that kind of guilt, but Wanda would be dammed if she allowed her girlfriend to continue to suffer in silence.

The second they landed back at the Compound, Natasha made her way to the witch's side. There was an unreadable expression on her face as she looked her lover over and she silently extended her hand out for her.

Wanda wasted no time in accepting her help.

They made their way to their shared room, holding onto each other a little tighter than necessary. Neither of them commented on it, though, they needed the physical contact more than they were willing to admit out loud.

The silence between them bordered on awkward, but they didn't even attempt to break it. They needed to have a long conversation and it needed to happen away from prying eyes and ears.

After a tense walk, they managed to make it inside their room, and Natasha instantly set the younger woman down on the bed. "Do you need to change your bandages?"

The mention of the badly wrapped bandages made Wanda chuckle despite herself. She wasn't sure whose idea it was to go on a mission without Dr. Banner who, despite how awkward he could be about it, always did a great job at patching them up when they were hurt. Sure, it wasn't his area of expertise, but he was much better at it than Steve.

"No, I'm okay," she replied, not aware of the effect her words were going to have on her girlfriend.

The Widow let out a loud scoff. "Oh, you're okay? You were stabbed and shot at but you're okay?"

"'Tasha-"

"Don't." Her tone left no room for arguing. "You're hurt, I'm allowed to be pissed off about it."

"I never said you couldn't be upset," Wanda muttered in response. "But that doesn't change the fact that I'm fine."

It was a shitty argument, but it was the best she could do given the circumstance. There was no way to win out over Natasha's stubbornness, so the only thing she could do was hope her words would eventually get through to her. That seeing her so sure that everything was fine would bring her out of the spiral she was stuck in.

The only response the Widow gave was a long sigh, her eyes betraying the true weight of her feelings.

Her hand reached out before she could stop it, and Wanda met her halfway, leaning into her touch with a small smile.

Natasha's fingers trailed across the witch's jawline as her eyes took in every little scrape that painted her delicate features. A part of her knew  she was overreacting. That they're safe and sound and Wanda's injuries will heal in no time.

And yet, it was impossible to stop desperation from building within her. The worries that threatened to swallow her whole if she allowed herself to think about things too much.

"'Tasha." Wanda's voice was barely above a whisper as she tried to get through to her lover one more time. "I'm okay."

"You were hurt."

"I've been through worse."

The words were meant to be reassuring, but they had the opposite effect. If anything, they made Natasha feel more helpless. Like despite all her skills, all her knowledge, all her training, she'll never be able to keep her lover safe.

She'll never be enough.

"Stop that, you're more than enough."

Her eyebrow raised involuntarily in response. "Get out of my mind, little witch."

"Hey! It's not my fault your thoughts are so loud."

Despite the heaviness that still lingered within her, a chuckle managed to escape past her lips. In an instant, she leaned forward to press a quick kiss to Wanda's pouting lips.

It amazed her how soft the witch could be after all the pain and violence she grew up in.

More than that, it amazed her how quickly her mood was able to shift when she was with the younger woman. How easy it was for her fears to disappear when they were together.

A soft smile was written across her features when she pulled away from her lover, her eyes a mirror that reflected the affection that was clear in the witch's eyes.

"Let me fix you up, detka." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but there was no denying the weight behind her words. "I promise I'll be quick."

Wanda couldn't help but shift nervously in response. It wasn't like she didn't trust Natasha, of course she trusted the redhead, but she knew how she could get. How easy it was for her to get caught up seeing monsters instead of shadows.

"I...are you sure? My bandages should be okay for a few hours."

"Not with the way Steve wrapped them," Natasha replied with a hint of humor in her tone.

The humor wasn't enough to mask her worry, and yet Wanda felt herself relaxing a little. If it helped her girlfriend feel better, she had no complaints about allowing her to clean her wounds up a little.

"Okay."

It was a single word that conveyed the trust she held in the redhead.

Wanda shifted back on the bed until she was laying down with her head resting on their pillows. She'd been in this position many times before, but this was different. There was an edge of vulnerability that clung to the air between them, a need for reassurance that neither of them could verbalize.

Natasha moved closer, not quite settling between the witch's legs, simply coming close enough to reach for her shirt. Her hands shook slightly as she lifted her girlfriend's shirt, her eyes taking in every inch of smooth skin that was revealed to her. Her heart ached in her chest as she examined each and every one of the cuts and bruises that littered her torso.

"I promise I'm okay," Wanda whispered, noticing her girlfriend's hesitation.

"I believe you."

Still, her head ducked down until her lips met the skin that had been revealed to her.

The gasp that escaped past the younger woman's lips made her smile. She still didn't feel completely okay but the helplessness that had settled in her chest was slowly easing away.

Her lips traced every inch of battered skin they could reach, her hands pushing the fabric up and over Wanda's head. With her shirt out of the way, she was able to fully look over the  bandages wrapped around her girlfriend's injuries. They didn't look as bad as she had expected them to and she subconciously let out a sigh of relief.

It didn't matter how many times she was reassured that the younger woman was fine, she needed to see it with her own eyes. To realize she wasn't bleeding out, there was no bullet lodged inside her, no sharp knife sticking out of her. She was fine.

She was safe.

And she was already arching her back in the way that made the Widow lose all of her control.

It wasn't about the pleasure, though. They both knew that. It was about comfort.

About being there for each other in the only way that was able cut through their anxieties. Maybe it was wrong to have to rely on the physical to get rid of the mental strain they were always under, but it made sense to them. More than that, it worked.

Because as much as they trusted and loved each other, being vulnerable wasn't something that came easy to them. Especially not after a mission when their fight or flight insticts were still on.

"I'm here," Natasha mumbled, shifting until she was hovering over her girlfriend. "I'm right here, Wands."

The words brought a beautiful smile to the witch's face. "I know...but you're still too far."

Wanda managed to work up enough courage to wrap her arms around Natasha's neck. She tried to keep her grip loose, just in case the Widow wasn't ready for too much physical contact.

"Patience," she replied. "I'm in the middle of something here. I still haven't cleaned you up."

The witch couldn't help but roll her eyes at that. The last thing on her mind right was her injuries. She felt fine. More than that, she felt weirdly needy and she needed her girlfriend's lips in a completely different spot.

She knew complaining probably wouldn't get her very far, but she couldn't help it. Maybe some light playfulness would help Natasha feel better.

"Come on, 'Tasha, that can wait. I need you right now."

The redhead paused for a second, green eyes focused intently on Wanda's face. She thought things over for a second, silently analyzing the situation in front of her. Her girlfriend seemed fine. All that seemed to linger were her wounds but not the pain they had initially brought.

It was irresponsible, she knew that much, but how was she supposed to deny her beautiful lover?

"How are you always so needy?" She replied, her soft smile growing just a tad bit teasing. "Don't tell me I've spoiled you too much."

"Maybe you have." Wanda shrugged. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"I beg to differ."

Natasha leaned down to capture the witch's lips again. This time, there was a little less softness to the contact and a little more urgency. And a lot of unrestrained desperation neither of them knew what to do with.

One kiss turned into two which turned into Wanda digging her nails into Natasha's shoulders while her hips bucked involuntarily. The Widow's thigh was too far to provide the witch with any real friction and yet it only made everything feel ten times more intense. An intensity that always seemed to catch up to them when they were together in such a way.

"Nat..." Wanda groaned, head tilting back in both pleasure and desperation.

"I know." Despite the teasing edge to her response, there was nothing but affection in her tone. Nothing but devotion for her lover. "What did I say about patience?"

One of Natasha's hands made its way between their bodies, her fingers tracing a path she knew by memory. The witch didn't seem to be in the mood for much teasing but she couldn't help it. There was something so exciting about turning her girlfriend into a desperate mess.

She knew, on some level, where it came from. That Wanda needed to be taken care of just as badly as she needed to be in control. They were on opposite ends of the same spectrum.

The witch arched her back in an attempt to push her chest further into Natasha's hand, a quiet moan leaving her lips as she teased her hardned nipples. "Stop teasing."

"I've barely started, detka. Don't tell me you already can't handle it?"

"You're so mean."

"You like it."

Wanda didn't have any time to refute that claim because right when she opened her mouth to speak, the redhead decided to finally give in to what her body needed.

"I oh-" The witch's body shuddered as Natasha's hand moved down, slidding into her tight pants and cupping her wet heat. The fabric of her underwear was still in the way, but neither of them cared too much about the obstruction.

Matching moans left their lips as the Widow found the wet spot staining the younger woman's underwear, her fingers moving over the soaked fabric with renowed purpose.

"What was that?" Natasha teased. "Were you going to say something?"

Her girlfriend's tone had Wanda clenching around pure air, her hips bucking involuntarily in search of more friction. "N-no."

"Are you sure? I can stop if you need me to."

"Fuck no. Don't stop...please."

"Good girl."

The praise sent shivers down Wanda's spine and effectively turned all her thoughts to pure mush. It should have been embarrassing how quickly she fell apart for her lover and yet all she could feel was pleasure. And maybe a little pride at how fast she managed to make Natasha give in to what she wanted.

That sort of pride was mutual, though, and it caused desire to thrum in their veins. Desire for what? That wasn't as easy to figure out. Thankfully, they had nothing but time to try.

Natasha quickly grew tired of teasing her girlfriend. Not because she didn't want to keep doing it (she really really did), but because she could tell she needed more. And after the day they'd had, she wasn't sure she'd be able to deny the witch anything.

Her fingers slid inside Wanda's ruined underwear, relishing the loud gasp that escaped the younger woman when she brushed against her clit. The witch was always sensitive, and today was no exception. It made these kinds of moments all the more exciting for her.

"Oh, fuck." Wanda's voice came out more like a whine than anything else. "Please."

"Please what?" She responded, leaning down to trail kisses down the witch's jawline. "Use your words like a good girl."

The only response she could form for a few seconds was another whine. Natasha always knew exactly what to do, exactly what to say, to help her sink down into that fuzzy, submissive headspace she was slowly getting used to. They hadn't done much exploring, too busy with never-ending missions to safely allow the witch to slip, but the safe experimentation they'd done had taught them both more than enough.

Mainly, it taught them how much they both thrive in that type of scenario. How much they depend on each other, on and off the battlefield.

"Don't stop," Wanda begged, feeling her hesitation fade away with every second that went by. "Touch me, fuck me, anything, please."

If Natasha was in a crueler mood, she would have taken her time to tease the younger woman. To play with her until she was a writhing, whimpering mess beneath her.

As fun as that sounded, she wasn't in the mood for that today. She wanted to let go. To help Wanda let go until all that was left was the two of them, locked together, in the sanctuary of their room.

"That's my girl." Her words were accompanied by the movement of her fingers. They slid through Wanda's slick folds before slowly easing in to her cunt. "Fuck, you're soaked for me, detka."

The witch was more than wet enough to take Natasha's fingers but the Widow still took her time, working two fingers inside and diligently watching her lover's face contort with pleasure. The way her walls fluttered around her was intoxicating, drawing the digits in deeper and practically begging her to stay buried inside her.

She moved slowly. Not because she wanted to tease but because she wanted to draw out the sensations. To overwhelm Wanda with the devotion she couldn't properly express most days.

To be fair, it didn't seem like the younger woman minded. They were both broken, albeit in different ways, and they seemed to understand eachother without words. It was the most comforting thing either of them had ever known.

But God, she was so afraid of losing this. Of losing the one good thing she had. The one person who didn't see her as the Black Widow or a S.H.I.E.L.D. product. To Wanda, she was simply 'Tasha and it meant far more to her than anything else.

It wasn't hard for Wanda to realize the change in her girlfriend's thoughts. The sudden change in her breathing, the glosiness that overtook her eyes. She knew exactly what it meant and she knew she had to do something before the redhead started drowning in her thoughts.

So, she did the only thing she could think of right now. Mainly because thinking was getting difficult and it wasn't like she could move around too much with the Widow's fingers buried in her pussy.

Her hands moved to Natasha's face, cuping her cheeks and bringing her closer until their lips met once again. The kiss was a stark contrast to the movements of the redhead's fingers, but neither of them seemed to care.

All they cared about was being together.

Wanda pulled away first, her panting breaths turning into whimpering gasps. The coil in her stomach was about ready to snap, her hips bucking desperately into the readhead's hand. "Nat- I can't, I need-"

"What do you need, detka?" She asked, even though she already knew the answer. She couldn't help it, she loved the way the witch's eyebrows furrowed in frustration when she interrupted her just to tease her.

"Need to cum, please-" Her words turned into a moan when Natasha's thumb found her swollen clit. "Please, can I cum?"

The desperation in her girlfriend's voice made the redhead smile proudly. It was hard to think about her fears when she had the witch like this. Completely and utterly under her spell.

"Of course," she replied, speeding up the thrusts of her fingers in an attempt to bring Wanda even closer to falling apart. "Come on, be a good girl and cum for me."

The witch felt overwhelmed in the best way. All she could think about, all she could feel, was Natasha. Her words, her hands, the pleasure only she was able to bring her. It was all too much yet it felt so good.

Her walls clenched around the Widow's fingers as she lost control of herself, giving in to the pleasure and letting everything else fade away. All it took was a few sharp thrusts of Natasha's fingers before she was moaning her lover's name, her eyes squeezing shut while she rode the waves of pleasure that crashed into her.

The redhead worked her through her orgasm, making sure to slow down a little to avoid overstimulating the younger woman. She leaned down to pepper kisses across each and every inch of Wanda's neck to help ground her a little more.

Neither of them were sure how much time went by before Wanda was able to open her eyes again, but when she finally did, the large, slightly goofy, smile on her face instantly gave away how she was feeling.

Still, Natasha asked anyway.

"You okay?"

"Hmmm, yeah."

The Widow chuckled, her heart practically bursting out of her chest at the sight of Wanda so happy and relaxed. It was a sight that never failed to make her feel better, no matter how shitty her day had been before.

"Good." She placed a few extra kisses across Wanda's face before shifting further down her body. "Because we're not done yet."

Natasha was talking about the remaining injuries she hadn't taken a look at yet but if they got up to other things too...well, she wouldn't complain about that.

[narutoandanimearemyheart]

RIVALS TO LOVERS! RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS WITH NEJI HYUGA

The reader and Neji most likely met in the Academy when they were both young. Neji was a prodigy of course and excelled in everything. Especially Taijutsu.

However there was another person in his class that had extremely advanced skills in Taijutsu, his only match. You.

The two of you would often get partnered up during spar sessions in the class, and would often come in very close ties which infuriated Neji to no end.

He did not like this at all. He was determined to be the top of the class, and would train extra hard when he got home to secure that spot. He would not be average, nor beaten by some shinobi from some average background, not at all.

He had an intense dislike for you. How were you able to match him in his ability? You weren’t a Hyuga, nor from any special clan whatsoever. So how were you able to beat him when it wasn’t even in your destiny to beat him?

He definitely often makes scathing remarks towards you during your time at the academy, but most of those remarks stem from his own insecurities and anger of not being strong enough.

Eventually when graduation time came, Neji got assigned to his team, but the rivalry with you was still going strong. He doesn’t face you in the Chunin exams but he wished that he did, maybe for old times sake, or to gain the satisfaction of beating you.

Most likely to gain the satisfaction of beating you, and to heal his wounded pride.

However his viewpoint slowly starts to change after his match with Naruto. He finally found peace and realized that people can change their own destinies, which also leads to try and understand you better.

At first when he starts acting more nicer to you, your like “is this the same Neji that I knew???” Yeah he didn’t leave a good impression on you with his condescending remarks, and arrogant behaviour, but he’s grown out of it.

The two of you start hanging out more often once he’s simmered down in his haughtiness, you often train together, and talk about various different topics.

You both find yourselves getting closer together. The regular sparring sessions always seemed to have a tension that never went unnoticed. It was clearly visible to all that saw you both together, but it wasn’t to the two of you.

Neji of course realizes that he has started to feel different things for you, beyond what close friends would feel. At first he tries to ignore those feelings.

He’s scared to get close to someone like that and doesn’t want to make himself vulnerable, in case they either reject his advances or if something bad happens to them.

He is a very stubborn individual and will push down these new feelings of his, and he won’t acknowledge them, you will probably have to be the one to confess to him, and when you do, he can feel his heart start to soar.

Of course he’ll keep a calm look on his face and simply say that he returns your affections, but inside he will be the happiest he’s ever been, and if you look close you will be able to see a faint pink blush on his pale cheeks.

Moving on towards actually dating. Neji is a very polite and courteous boyfriend. He takes “duties” as a lover very seriously. He always tells you to take care of yourself, and brings you things like flowers as gifts.

He still goes full strength on you during sparring as, that’s just how he is, he respects your strength and thinks that going “easy” on you would be disrespectful towards you.

If you are on a mission with him he’s going to be on watch like a hawk. He knows you can take care of yourself but he cares a lot about you and looks out for you too. If you act reckless during the mission, he’s not going to let you live it down for a few days.

He can be soft when he wants to be, sometimes when visiting the Hyuga compound and spending time with him in his room, you’ll both just sit next to each other and enjoy each others presence. He doesn’t strike me as a very physically affectionate type of person, but he would sometimes hold your hand.

His love language is more so acts of service. He likes to show you how much he cares about you, instead of touching you or telling you that he does.

Whether it’s helping you arrange your things, cooking food for you, bringing extra supplies for you during a mission in case you forgot some, he always remembers the little things.

I can definitely see him letting the words “I love you” slip out during an argument though. When you and Neji argue, he’s very stubborn, so even if he is in the wrong, it will take a while to get him to admit that. He’s a very prideful individual. If you are both stubborn then you might go for days without speaking to each other before one of you two caves in.

Neji hates to see you cry. If you cry then he will immediately soften and apologize, he hates seeing you cry that much. If he is the cause of your tears then he feels much guilt, but if someone else is the cause of your tears then whoever they are better sleep with one eye open.

You two were probably arguing about something that wasn’t too significant but, Neji got rather upset about it and of course he never backs down so it was starting to escalate until he blurted out “Well yeah I’m mad!! I’m mad because I love you!”

It suddenly became very quiet between you two, until he started stammering ���W-well, I-I” you chuckled and spoke softly “I love you too Neji” and he felt his heart soar, he has officially stopped working. No wonder people say falling in love drives you crazy, because it was most certainly driving him crazy.

Neji is very protective of you, he loves you to the point that he’s sure he’d sacrifice his life for you. He now believes that destinies can indeed be changed, and he’s sure that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

You most likely feel the same way, after all, even if he has his flaws how can you not fall in love with him? With the way he treats you and stays true to his words and is one of the most honourable people you know.

Neji Hyuga and you are in love with each other no doubt about that, and the two of you will continue to be in love with each other forevermore. While your relationship does have its ups and downs, one thing about it is that your bond is unbreakable and everlasting.

[klausysworld]

Hiii, love your work 🥰

I was wondering if you could write one where reader cuts himself and tries to hide it from Klaus, but after a bad night she does it again and the next day she puts on a sweatshirt to hide it, and while she's with Klaus he grabs that part of her arm and she shows pain, Klaus asks her what's wrong and she says that he grabbed her unexpectedly or grabbed her very hard but he's not convinced, the next day the same thing happens again and this time he comes back to ask what's wrong, but this time he insists that she tell him the truth, and she doesn't want to, so he lifts her sweatshirt and sees the cuts and then I leave it to your imagination.

it's okay if you don't feel comfortable writing this 💖

Trigger warning-Self Harm (please don’t read if you think it might upset you)

Don’t Suffer In Silence

Y/n had done well at keeping her marks hidden. Living in a house of Vampires and Hybrids didn’t make it easy which made her feel worse and more anxious but she still managed.

Dealing with the supernatural pressure and losing lives every other day was far too much on Y/n. She had struggled with self harm before the Mikaelsons anyway but with all the added drama she was spiralling fast.

Once again one of the vampires she had befriended became a casualty of everything going on between all the factions. Y/n had state back at the compound with Hope only to be told by a pissed off Marcel and then told to ‘get over it and stop being dramatic’.

Y/n still wasn’t used to the amount of death that surrounded her, not the way everyone else acted like it was normal.

Y/n had come to New Orleans when she received a call from her best friend Hayley. They had helped each other after Hayley got kicked out and Y/n had run away. Since then they both had each others back no matter what. Hayley had known that Y/n would hurt herself in the past but she had no idea that it was still something she went to as a source of relief. It had been years to Hayley’s knowledge so she wasn’t really paying any attention to the possibility.

But if Y/n was honest, she never really stopped in the first place. She never actually wanted to stop, she always had a little blade hidden somewhere ‘just in case’. She was always waiting for something awful to happen so she could feel like she had a valid reason to harm herself.

Y/n had thought things were taking a turn for the better when she and Klaus got closer. She still remembered the first time he kissed her, it was like a moment of peace for her heart and mind.

His touch was always so soft with her and she was grateful for that. They weren’t ‘together’ per say. They never actually confirmed their relationship, they just supported eachother when the other needed it. But Y/n didn’t think Klaus could help her with this. She assumed he would think it was pathetic or just give her that pitiful look.

Y/n always wore her long sleeved tops and if she didn’t then she’d have a jumper or jacket on, no matter what the weather. Of course all the vampires didn’t notice the heat much anyway so thankfully nobody questioned her choices. Everyone was to busy to anyway so even if they did notice, it wasn’t exactly a top priority.

Part of her was glad that she and Klaus weren’t in a confirmed relationship, it meant he didn’t get to see her scarred skin. It meant he never had the chance to touch her unless it was a brush of his hand or the occasional arm around her as a sign of protection. Every now and then he’d put his hand on hers when they sat beside eachother or something had happened that he caused and he would hold her hand gently as an apologetic gesture.

So she didn’t have much to worry about when it came to anyone finding out or caring much if they did.

It wasn’t like she didn’t get a lot of spare time. So she took advantage of her time alone, scavenged for her hidden blade and used it the only way she knew how.

Guilt flooded her after, but it was worth the few minutes of relief she felt before.

She locked herself in her room for the rest of the night, grateful that all the rooms had their own bathrooms.

She laid sprawled out in her bed in just a t-shirt, red wrists faced up as the cool air that flowed in from the window brushed over her skin. It was one of those rare times she fell asleep on her back and woke up in the same spot.

A harsh knocking at her door forced her eyes open and brain to kick start running.

“What?” She called out with a groan and Hayley’s voice rang straight back at her

“Can you stay here and look after Hope? I need to get to the bayou asap and everyone else is out at the moment.” She yelled back

“Yeah I’ll go to her room right away” she agreed while begrudgingly grabbing a cardigan.

Klaus and Elijah returned a few hours later to find Y/n facing the task of feeding a young Hope and having food flung across the floors.

Elijah let out a chuckle and went up to his reading room while Klaus approached the pair and helped settle his daughter.

Y/n assumed Klaus wouldn’t want her hovering over their heads and so went to go upstairs but his hand grabbed onto her wrist to stop her. She winced instantly and yanked her arm away from him making him frown

“What’s wrong?” He asked as he stood up from his seat and looked down at her forehead

“Nothing, you just grabbed me harder than I was ready for” she mumbled quietly before going to keep walking but he grabbed her wrist again just gentler. She bit down on her tongue and looked back at him. He looked at her for a moment before sitting down and tugging her with him

“Stay for a bit?” He started “Hopes games often require at least three people” he smiled and she mirrored his expression

“Yeah, of course” she agreed and lifted Hope onto her lap as Klaus’s arm slipped round her waist and his eyes dropped to the sleeve which threatened to show her skin but didn’t quite.

Klaus payed much closer attention to her actions and responses. She was quick to tug her sleeve down every few moments, even when they weren’t sliding up. When Hope would touch her arms or pull on her clothes then Y/n was looking more and more anxious and uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure what had happened, perhaps she had bruised herself and was embarrassed. Then he worried that one of the mikaelsons enemies had grabbed her too harshly and she hadn’t wanted to tell anyone. So he decided to let it go.

Until she continued to show signs of pain and discomfort for the several following days.

She was making pancakes for herself and Hope when he knocked her arm again, she inhaled deeply and he furrowed his brows as she moved her sleeve round a bit.

He watched as she put the first pancake on the plate and poured more of the batter onto the pan. He went to hold the base of her wrist to help her flip it better but she dropped the pan as soon as he got a grip she was pulling away and dropping the pan down with a loud clatter, he quickly turned the stove off to look at her

“Love, you need to tell me what’s going on” he murmured whilst trying to pull her hand toward him but she wouldn’t allow it

“Nothing, it’s fine” she muttered

“Well clearly something’s wrong” he mumbled, this time he pulled her arm with force making her stumble forward to him. Her eyes widened as he grabbed the end of her sleeve and went to tug it up

“Klaus stop it!” She yelled and smacked his hand with her spare one but he had already seen. His face fell slightly, confused flashing across him before his gaze softened and his eyes flicked to hers. She stared back at him horrified, her chest rose and fell rapidly and she hurriedly shoved past him.

“Y/n” he called softly as he followed her closely. She locked both her bedroom and bathroom door as she sat on the floor beside the bathtub. She breathed rapidly as she squeezed her hands together tightly and tried to think but before she had a chance to her door was swiftly broken in and Klaus was down on his knees before her. “Sweetheart” he murmured as he moved his arms under hers and lifted her as he stood once again.

She didn’t bother struggling as he brought her to his room and sat her down on his bed, his hands stroking the back of her hair. “I’m just going to get Elijah to look after Hope for a moment okay? I’ll be right back” he whispered with a kiss to her forehead

“Klaus it’s fine” she utter but he shook his head

“Just wait right here” he told her before speeding round the mansion.

She sighed heavily and ran her hands through her hair, once, twice, three times and then over and over until she was just pulling at it harshly.

Klaus quickly grabbed her hands hand rubbed the backs of them with his thumbs as he eased them away from her poor hair. Her face was bright red as she hiccuped on her cries in an attempt to silence them. He sat down on the bed and pulled her onto his lap

“It’s okay” he whispered softly “it’s okay” he repeated as he gently removed her jumper, leaving her in a t-shirt and showing him her arms. She couldn’t see his face when his eyes flicked to each and every line on her skin, some faded, some rather fresh and most in between. The pads of his fingers ever so lightly touched one or two of the raised lines, his lips pressed to the side of her head as she let out a sniff in response.

Y/n refused to look at him or herself, her face was turned to the side to stare at the art filled wall. She trailed her eyes over the different paintings while trying to ignore the feeling of his skin on hers. Her eyes shut when she felt something soft touch on of the cuts on her wrist, something warm and a tiny bit wet. The feeling came again and again, her eyes looked to find the source on the tingle against her flesh.

A tear fell down she face as she watched Klaus swap between her left and right forearms to kiss the newer marks on her skin.

He leaned back to look at her face once he was finished, seeing the shame and the guilt shine within her glossy eyes. His hand stroked the hair away from her face as his lips pressed to hers gently, he stroked the back of her neck and the top of her back as he kisses her softly. She pulled back as more tears dropped from her lashes but he wouldn’t let her turn away.

“Do you have any idea how much you mean to me sweetheart?” He whispered as he brushed his warm hands over her face. “You can always come to me my love” he murmured “don’t suffer in silence”

She sniffed as she leaned forward to press her forehead against his chest making him wrap his arms around her mid section and pepper kisses to the top of her head

“You’re going to sleep in my bed tonight okay?” He whispered

“It’s the morning” she mumbled back “you have to go settle a deal with the witches and-“

“Do you want me to stay? I can stay home today and be with you and Hope” he offered but she shook her head

“I don’t want you to worry and stay here just because I’ll do some stupid” she told him and his frown deeper and he hugged her tighter

“I can’t help but worry Y/n. Not that what’s happening is stupid but because you’re hurt. I never want anyone to hurt you, not even yourself and I will worry whether you like it or not but I’d rather be able to help you so that I don’t have to and so that you don’t feel you should turn to this” he explained gently

“I can’t help it” she whispered and he nodded

“You don’t want to stop” he uttered and she nodded subtly. He rest his chin on top her head as he thought for a moment, his hands gently rubbing her back.

“I’ve tried to” she sniffed “but I just can’t”

“It’s okay” he told her. “We’ll find a way okay? For now, whenever you want or need to hurt yourself, you call me okay? I’ll find a way to help you no matter where I am, what I’m doing.” He promised and her brows pulled together

“Why would you do that?” She asked weakly and he smiled slightly, not that she could see his face.

“Because I love you and I care too much to let you live in pain” he told her softly. “One day, I’ll kiss every inch of you whether it’s scarred or not” he whispered and took a deep breath as she held onto him a little tighter.

She stayed quiet, in his arms, not sure of what to tell him. But he didn’t need to hear her say anything, he just wanted her to know he was there.

Eventually they went back downstairs, she put her jumper back on so the other didn’t see but Klaus kept her by it on him at all times, made sure she ate and then they went back up to his room so she could lay down with him spooning her to keep her warm and safe.

Y/n wasn’t sure what would happen tomorrow or the days after that but she hoped Klaus would keep to his word and be there if she should need him.

(One could hope for a reaction like this😐🫤)

[justkending]

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Bonus Chapter)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader (Enemies to Lovers) (Fake Marriage Trope)

Word Count: 3700+

A/N: I got some motivation for a bonus chapter and a lot of you guys reached out asking about some. So here is a cute little side story with the two! I hope you guys enjoy it while I take my time getting through all my other WIP!🥰

______________

Bucky’s POV: 

The mission yesterday was brutal for the team—so much so that Tony vogued for us and ensured we’d have the next two days without any form of work to interrupt our much-needed break. That meant we were off-duty, unless a world-ending turn of events came up, for the next 48 hours—starting the morning after we got home from said brutal mission. 

My first stop as soon as I got up and around was Y/N’s room. She had left the field yesterday more beat up than any of us after she was cornered and her backup had fled. Something I was royally pissed about, but it was some lower agent she was paired with to train. I offered, considering the kid was known for being squeamish, and it was originally meant to be a low-level operation. But apparently, someone with a gentler and friendlier disposition was preferred for the agent's training lesson. But of course, the tides turned, and Y/N was left on her own fighting off a dozen armed men, yet unsurprisingly, she came out on top. 

Although she claimed the various cuts, bruises, and pulled muscles in her quad were manageable, I knew she would be horribly sore today and, therefore, grumpy—understandably so. 

I thought I’d get a head start on helping her, considering things have grown between us since our first date two months ago. 

We hadn’t made it official, and we were taking it slow since there was so much to learn about each other after years of distancing ourselves from one another. 

We’ve had as many dates as time allowed since then, and the team has caught on, but again, we’re taking it slow. So slow, in fact that we kept to our respective rooms for personal space outside of movie nights, considering we lived together for almost a month and technically still do live together, even if across from the hall. We saw each other all the time, and we thought it best that we hold on to that piece of individuality at the start of our relationship so as not to rush anything. 

But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find any chance I could to come hang out with her in her room and spend time with her as often as I could. I meant it back at the house when I said I envied my teammates for getting to experience a version of her that actually like you as a person. The change in pace has been eye-opening, and I’ve become somewhat addicted to the time I spend with her now. 

“One second!” I heard from the other side of the door after I knocked, and the tone alone showed me she was not happy. 

“I brought you some breakfast and pain meds, Y/N/N,” I said into the barrier. Seconds later, the door unlocked, and a battered Y/N looked up at me miserably. “Hey, sweetheart.” I couldn’t help the pout in my lip seeing my girl beat up. 

There was bruising under her eye, a butterfly stitch on her cheekbone, and a few bruises visible on her legs where she was wearing one of the biggest t-shirts she owned as a nightgown. 

“How bad does it look? I’ve been inching out of bed for the last 10 minutes because of how stiff I feel, and I haven’t made it to the bathroom to look,” she cringed as she rubbed the uninjured side of her face in exhaustion.

“You make black eyes look hot,” I answer, leaning to kiss the top of her head as I sneaked past her into the apartment and move to the kitchenette on the side. 

We all have a fully functioning studio apartment at the compound, but since we share the main spaces of the living room and kitchen, our personal ones are much smaller and more so for convenience than anything else. 

“Appreciate that, but also, I’d rather put on a sexy dress to look hot than get punched by a 250 lbs man with a mean right hook,” she sighed, shuffling to follow after me and sit at the end of her bed as she watched me plate a breakfast burrito and a fruit parfait. 

“Sexy dress or not, you exceed the threshold in the looking hot category no matter what.” I’m lucky enough to get a soft chuckle from her as she pulls a blanket from her bed and wraps it around her body, snuggling close to it with a few grunts and moans of pain. “Outside of that, I’m going to hunt down that twirp from yesterday and give him a nice talking-to about leaving your partner in the dust.” I look up and point to her with a spoon before stabbing it into the yogurt and bringing it to her. 

“Honestly, if I hadn’t seen worse, I would have run the other direction, too,” she wiggled an arm free to grab the cup and thanked me before continuing. “For it being one of their first onsite missions, seeing a dozen armed bodyguards, and not one of them being under 200 lbs running full force at you? I’d be surprised if he didn’t shit his pants on the way out.”

I laughed at the image since Y/N and I had seen far worse, and what she was describing was just another Tuesday to us. 

“Regardless, you don’t leave your teammates to fend for themselves. Especially in that scenario. He could have at least grabbed you and ran the other way,” I mumbled, grabbing my burrito from the counter and moving to sit with her on the bed. 

“Grabbed me and run?” she scoffed, swirling the fruit and granola together. “You’re a funny man, Barnes.” 

“You know what I mean,” I shoulder bump her lightly, and she sighs, digging into the breakfast. “Meds the Doc prescribed you are on the counter. You need to take them with food 2x a day to keep the pain at bay.”

“It’s fine. The pain is manag-”

“If you say manageable, I’m going to make you walk from this side of the room to your bathroom and prove you’re fine. Meaning, no cringing, limping, or grunts in the process.”

She stared at me in a challenging manner. That much had not changed in our relationship whatsoever. I just didn’t get death glares with them anymore.

“I can walk to my bathroom just fine,” she rolls her eyes, staying stationary and distracting herself with breakfast. 

“Sure you can,” I nodded, taking a bite of my own and keeping my eyes solely on her. 

I could tell she was growing squirmish under my gaze. The uncomfortability matched with uncertainty in her claim. I mean, come on. She gave it away that she wasn’t fine when she said it took her 10 minutes to ease out of bed. 

“Stop staring at me,” she grumbled, lazily eating to drag out her inevitable defeat. 

I hummed, standing and moving to grab some hot sauce in her cabinet. “Oh, by the way, the team’s doing a day of pool Olympics tomorrow. Sam’s asked for a rematch in chicken.”

“As long as I get a rematch in categories.”

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re going to be participating in the games much,” I scrunched my nose at her with a grin before taking a giant bite.

“By tomorrow, I’ll be back to new,” she groaned and stood up too fast, stilling herself, seeing she’d overdone it. But not wanting to get caught, she played it off as stretching and taking her time. “I have an above-average healing rate, after all.” 

“Maybe, but not nearly as fast as I’d prefer,” I placed the meal back on my plate and wiped my hands off on a towel before coming to her side to help her take some weight off her bad leg.

“As you’d prefer? Please do elaborate on what you’d prefer, Sarge?” The cockiness in her voice made me look down at her and grin at her orneryness. 

“You know I’d prefer you wrapped up in bubble wrap and in a magic forcefield the rest of your life that keeps you out of harm's way. I’ve never liked seeing you hurt or in pain. But unfortunately, due to realism and already trying to do that with Steve, I know it's not attainable,” I answered, both hands on her shoulders. Now, let me take this.” I quickly grabbed the parfait and placed it on the counter before offering my arm. 

“I can walk to the bathroom on my own.”

“Standing showed me otherwise.”

“Are you going to hold my hand while I pee too?” 

“If you asked me, I 100% would. But knowing you, you’re a little too stubborn for that,” I winked as she walked with more weight on me than she’d care to confess. 

“Just a little,” she grunts when she loses her footing, and I catch her. 

“Hm, about that help…”

“Shut it,” she mumbles and shuts the door behind her as she gets ready for the day.

_______________

“Where’s Y/N at?” Wanda asked, meeting me in the hall and following after me. 

“Med bay. I made her go get a check-up with Banner since she’s hellbent on playing in the water games tomorrow,” I answered once she was by my side, my stride slowing so she could catch up. 

“Do you think she’ll actually listen to anything he says if he doesn’t give her the all-clear?” she asked with a laugh. 

“Doubtful, but I can be hopeful.”

“Things are going well for you two then, huh?” I could hear the grin in her voice before I looked down at her. “Crazy to think, considering just a few months ago, I wouldn’t hold it against her to have your head on a plaque hanging in her room just because you looked at her wrong.”

“Crazy the things a little communication can do,” I winked and threw an arm around her shoulders before squeezing her into my side. “That and patience. Lots and lots of patience.” 

“You do have a surprising amount of that stuff in ya, big guy,” she patted my chest as we turned to the hall where Y/N was. 

“Ow, son of a bitch!” sounded from the corner of Banner’s office, and we shared a look. “Obviously, that isn’t going to feel good, injured or not, Bruce!” 

“May need to save his ass,” Wanda whispered, and we hurried our steps to the space. 

Inside, Bruce was laughing as he logged in her symptoms and any other notes doctors take in these instances. 

“Just proving to you that playing any high-impact sports, which are almost any of the ones that include the team, isn’t going to help the healing process,” he told her as she rubbed her thigh with the heel of her hand. 

“Sam told me he doesn’t plan on holding back,” Wanda cut in just as I saw Y/N rearing up to retort something to the scientist. “Something about revenge for the last time we held a water Olympics.” 

“Empty threats,” Y/N sighed, turning to me. I was still getting used to the fact that I caused her body to ease tension rather than create it now. “Banner gave me the all clear,” she says to me in a very convincing way... If I wasn’t a trained spy. 

“I did not,” Bruce was quick to turn and shake his head.

“Don’t listen to him. He doesn’t even know what a vastus lateralis is!” she pointed and thought about hopping off the medical table she was on but realized the fast movement would only prove Banner’s point. 

“Um, I very much do know what the vastus lateralis is, considering I just told you you strained yours, and it needs to heal fully before you take on any high-mobility actions. You’re the one who asked if it was a witch incantation,” Bruce pointed a pen at her and moved back to his floating screens. 

“Can confirm it is not a witch incantation,” Wanda spoke up, moving to Y/N’s side by the medical equipment table and started playing with the tools. 

“Who’s side are you on?” she furrowed her eyes at the redhead, and I moved to lean on the table next to her, my thigh touching her knees hanging over the edge of the stainless steel. “I really think he’s exaggerating. I can walk on it and everything just fine.” 

Her eyes are leveled with mine while she’s sat higher up, and she gives me pathetic puppy dog eyes like it’ll sway me. And it almost does, but I cup her face in between my hands and squeeze so that her lips are pursed. 

“Nice try. Not going to work on me, doll,” I grin and kiss her nose before turning back to Banner. “How long are we talking about being fully healed? I don’t know how much more gaslighting I can take about her pain level.” I get a swift smack to my shoulder, but it barely stings. I grab her uninjured leg and squeeze her kneecap as she leans on my shoulder for support. 

“With her enhanced healing, I’d give it about three to five days before it’s healed enough for training or anything else. For any other normal person, it would be about a six-week process. Count yourself lucky,” Banner answers, only looking back for a second. 

“Still bullshit,” she grumbles and fidgets with the sleeve of my t-shirt. “So are you saying I have to be a bystander for tomorrow’s games?” 

“And quite possibly be benched for the coming week. Meaning no more missions until you’re given the all clear,” Banner turns around at his last statement. 

“Wait, what?!” 

“You heard me. You just don’t like what you heard,” he smirks. 

“I don’t quite like you right now, Bruce…” she says lowly, collapsing her head on my shoulder and groaning. 

“Don’t worry,” I turn and offer a hand for her to get down, which she stares at and reluctantly hops down. “I’ll make sure to kick Sam’s ass for you tomorrow in place of you. You know it’d be more than an honor for me.” 

“I fear he may kill him,” Wanda adds, walking to the other side of Y/N. 

“Compared to what I was planning, it would be a mercy.” 

____________

Y/N’s POV

To say I was pissed about the current circumstances would be putting it lightly. I hate being benched, and like anyone, I hate being injured. 

Call it past trauma I may never fully grow out of, but being the weak link made me anxious and antsy. It was like being the runt in a litter of pigs. It can’t fend for itself and tends to meet the slaughterhouse sooner than its friends. 

All that to say, I didn’t take help well while in this state either. But for some odd reason, Bucky’s aid wasn’t unwelcomed. 

Did I give him a hard time? Hard not to. Did he laugh it off and match my energy? 1000%, and I couldn’t be more thankful. It’s made this a touch more bearable, knowing he doesn’t pity me or see me as a weakling but just wants to help get me back to my best. 

And 3-5 days is doable, considering the alternative was over a month…

“Did you take your meds?” Bucky asked, letting himself into my room after a long day. Thankfully, we had another day of resting and for me, it looked like a week of resting. 

“Taken and pumping through my veins,” I give him a thumbs up as I lazily scroll through the streaming services as we set up for a lowkey movie night. “Are these the loopy kinds?” 

“Most opiates are, unfortunately,” he chuckles, placing the take-out bags he had grabbed downstairs on the coffee table. “What time did you take them?

He pulls out his phone and goes to the notes app. I know he has been making detailed notes on my meds, pain levels, doctor’s visits, and any other ailments I complain about. It’s really sweet, and surprisingly, I don’t find it overbearing like I thought I would. It’s nice having someone look out for you in a genuine way. 

“About ten minutes ago, so 6:30,” I pat the seat beside me. “Come on. I need your decisiveness on what movie we should watch tonight.”

He laughed while typing the details into his phone before putting it on the table, sitting next to me, opening the bags, and creating a nice little family buffet of Thai food in front of us. 

I watched him as I had become fond of these last few months. When I see him do the things he does for others and me, I internally punch myself for letting hatred keep me from such a man this long. 

“Question,” I asked, and he hummed, handing me a carton of low mein and grilled chicken. He stabbed two chopsticks into the food, and turned back for his own before leaning back and relaxing finally. “If things were different. If you never had to enlist for the war… What would have done for yourself?” 

“You mean like…”

“What job field would you have gone into?”

He nods his head as he considers the question and takes a large bite of pad thai. 

“I’m not sure… I don’t think I’ve ever really considered it. Especially since war has always been a thing, and given the era I was born into, I had just accepted I was going to be thrown into the military at some point.” 

“Well, that’s sad,” I crinkled my nose and the ache from my black eye had dulled thanks to my faster healing. “You didn’t consider any other paths?” 

“I mean, not realistic ones. I probably would have gone into business of some kind. Sales, maybe?” he said more as a question and poked around at his food. “I doubt anything that would have brought me true joy.” 

“Ok, then. What about now? If things were different, and you had complete freedom to live a normal life, like Beau Hunt,” I nudged him, and he laughed, leaning closer to me on the couch. “What career would you choose?” 

He thought about it, looking down at his food and then at the wall ahead of him. 

“If you’re asking me about today? As in this very moment?” 

“I am.”

“I’d say a chef.” 

I paused, not 100% prepared for that answer, but also not shocked by it. I didn’t reply instantly and felt him turn his gaze to me. 

“Didn’t expect that?” he asks. 

“Just imagining it,” I grinned, digging back into my cardboard carton as I pictured the dreamboat of a man next to me in an episode of The Bear. “I like it.” 

“Think I can get a Michelin-star type of restaurant going?” he hummed, a grin evident in his voice. 

“I don’t think that would be your scene. I could see you in a cool, locally owned, and homey restaurant. A staple piece in Brooklyn where everyone would come from all over to have the best comfort food the city would offer,” I smile at him, scooting down in my seat so I can rest my head on his shoulder.  

His head rested on top of mine after a quick kiss to the top of it. I treasured learning he actually loved showing affection in public, especially in the sweet and wholesome ways he went about it. 

“I can see that much more than what I said,” he laughed, and his body vibrated with the sound. “What about you? Different career choice, what would you choose?” 

“Hmm,” I snuggled more into him as I ate, and the screen on my TV went to screensaver mode. “I think something in social work. Given the things I’ve seen in the world, I’d be able to help kids in dangerous situations and homes get out of it.” He hums and chuckles some, making me look up at him. “What’s so funny about that?” 

“Not funny, just,” he chuckles again and looks at me from the side. “Of course, you’d want to go into the world and make a difference in it while I hole myself up in one spot and do background work for a living. In other words, the less I have to deal with people up front, the better, and the more people you can confront, the better.” 

“You’re a social person,” I laughed, sticking my chopsticks into his container for a taste. “I mean, you’re a better people person than you think.” 

“I have to build that relationship with people before I can become a ‘people person’. On the other hand, you can walk up to a stranger on the street and insert yourself into their life without hesitation.” 

“Maybe. But I also understand not wanting to do those things just cause it’s not your scene. I think our fake imaginary jobs are perfect for us.” 

“I was always envious that I wasn’t one of those people you approached and welcomed in,” he says, but not with annoyance and hurt, just stating a fact. 

“I was an asshole who allowed her backstory to control the present life she had made for herself. I wasn't too proud of that version of myself.”

Bucky turned his body to me, and I sat up. 

“As upset as I was about not getting the friendly treatment you gave to others, I’m happy to say I get to experience it now compared to never at all.” 

I stared into the blue eyes I knew would be my downfall as soon as I saw him for the first time. 

“Who knew force proximity would have this outcome?” 

“Not Nat or Tony. Oh, by the way, did I tell you Tony was in on the deal, too? Gave it three days and lost all his money before he even had a chance.” 

“Serves him right, betting on people’s downfall,” I nuzzled back into the couch as Bucky got comfortable again. “Speaking of… Wanna make a bet on how many games I can make Sam lose without even participating in the games?” 

“I will never not bet to see Sam lose. But I think I can beat you out on that deal, considering I will be in the games.”

“You’d like to think, wouldn’t you?” 

“Is that a challenge?” 

“A challenge would mean I have to have competition. That won’t be the case tomorrow,” I leaned forward, grabbing the remote from him and placing a soft kiss on his lips. 

“You’re much appreciated PDA isn’t going to make me take it any easier on you.” 

“No, no, no. We wouldn’t want that.”  

He laughed and leaned in for another kiss. The TV in front of us forgotten.

Marvel Tags:

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[stars-tonight]

Congratulations on 100 followers! And I hope school will be kind to you this year!

Can we see baguette + board games for the sleepover ask 👀

BUCKET LIST (FT. HINATA SHŌYŌ)

baguette -> hinata shōyō

board games -> bucket list

synopsis: what does hinata shōyō really want in life? pre-established relationship, pre-timeskip, fluff

word count: 632

what do you get when two bad students try to study together?

naturally, a disaster. hinata doesn’t know how to do any of his math problems. well that’s perfect, because you don’t either. why are there more letters than numbers in some of these problems? you’ll never know.

you don’t know how to do any of your chemistry problems. well that’s perfect, because hinata has never even heard of dihydrogen monoxide before. why do the same compounds go by twenty different names? you’ll never know.

all you know is that it’s been almost two hours already, and the sun is going down, and hinata’s mother is already cooking dinner for the family (and you, but you’re already like part of the family), and yet the two of you have barely made any progress on your respective homework assignments.

you set your pencil down with a harsh clink and a rough sigh. “this isn’t going anywhere,” you mutter, rubbing your temples. “and i have a headache.”

hinata drops his head on the table, defeated. “i don’t get anything, baby,” he whines.

you grumble incoherently and shake your head. “me neither.” you frown at your chemistry worksheet. “who needs chemistry anyway? i’m not going to be a chemist when i grow up.”

“and i’m not going to be a mathematician,” hinata agrees, nearly shuddering at the very thought.

it’s then that you’re struck by a brilliant idea. you rip a page out of your notebook. “shōyō, i have an idea! let’s make a bucket list! it’s perfect to distract us from dumb, boring homework.”

he frowns. “a bucket list?”

“yeah!” you write down the words ‘bucket list’ at the top of the page. “it’s just like a list of things we want to do in our lives. go crazy! no dreams are too big. i’ll start.” you tap your pencil against your chin, humming thoughtfully. “i want to travel to every country before retirement and take lots of pictures!” you scribble it down. “what about you, shōyō?”

he leans over to read over your shoulder, the light restored to his eyes at such a cool idea. “what i want to do. . .? win nationals!” he offers excitedly.

you chuckle fondly at your puppy-esque boyfriend, writing down the words. “and i want to . . . grow up to be rich and live in a mansion.”

“and i want to beat the great king!” hinata adds.

you stifle a laugh. “shōyō, are all your dreams about volleyball?”

he thinks about it for a few seconds. “yeah,” he admits. “there’s nothing else i would rather do with my life. nothing else i want more.”

you admire his dedication and passion. “then i’ll put it on my list to come to every one of your games and cheer for you.”

hinata blushes a little, thanking you with a kiss on your nose that makes both of you laugh. “then i’ll say that i’ll go with you to every country.”

just like that, time that used to tick by like water dripping from an almost-closed faucet starts to flow, as if someone had just turned that same faucet all the way. next thing you know, hinata’s mother is calling you both down for dinner, and you have filled up the whole piece of paper (front and back) with your big, childish, and maybe unachievable dreams.

you huff out a breath happily and blow a strand of hair out of your eyes. “it looks good!” you say, holding up the piece of paper and smiling. “let’s add one more thing. any ideas?”

“hm. . .” hinata thinks for a few seconds. “oh! i know!”

you turn to look at him. “what is it?”

he grins at you, leans forward, and plants a big kiss on your lips. “let’s be together and love each other forever.”

[moonlesslights]

Red thoughts (Sanemi x f!Reader)

Summary: After being kept apart from the Wind Hashira by your master, a mission suddenly brings the two of you together into a heartwarming path with dangerous twists in between that end up putting a bulge in Sanemi’s pants.

Warnings: Smut with plot. This is somewhat long but i’m really in love with this man so I also needed some fluff here. Minor character death and choking kink.

(If there’s something more you consider should be in Warnings, please let me know!)

A/N: I hope you enjoy this, because I truly enjoyed writing it. A lot of fun, love and smut with a happy ending, so don’t worry. Love y’all!

...

“So you’re the little flame.” The Wind Hashira grins at you, mockery dancing on his eyes. 

His white hair stands out against his pale skin full of scars that cross his face from side to side. A tug on one of the corners of your lips occurs when you are now able to observe that classic extravagance in each of the Hashira.

“Is a pleasure to finally meet you, sir.” You bow, slowly, and his smile disappears at the sight, drawing you to your full height again with the doubt that you've done something wrong.

You frown at his irritated gaze, glancing quickly at your own clothes for anything that didn't look entirely presentable. But you just can’t find a single stained o wrikled spot on your kimono, and the anger on his face is starting to freak you out. Was this what Kyojuro meant with his warnings about this man all this time?

"Has anyone told you how weird it is to introduce yourself to someone after spending a week in the same place as that person?" His voice now carries a hint of bitterness and irony that makes your stomach sink. "I've seen you loitering around the compound for six days and I think I'm the only Hashira who doesn't know your name."

Your eyes widen in surprise before you can do anything about it. He had seen you? For six days? Your mouth opens only to close again without having managed to bring a single word of excuse to the tip of your tongue. Gods, how disrespectful has it been to have overlooked him all this time? Now you have to feel your face heat up at the thought: How much have I ignored his presence that I've only seen him for two days?

His large eyes continue to examine you, piercing through every layer of courage it took you to even appear in his domain. Your heart is already beating faster than you would like, and each blow to the chest makes you lose more and more composure in the face of his insistent, too insistent gaze.

But it's not your fault! It's not fair that any opportunity to have a healthy friendship relationship with him slipped away before you could even notice because of someone else, because of...

 “I was looking foward to talk to you for some days now” You rush to say, narrowing your eyes in his direction. You're not going to let the first thing the imposing man knows about you is the fear his presence seemed to exude for everyone else. “But Master Rengoku… Mhm…!” Are you going to say it?, was it right? Your lips snap shut, gods, how were you going to explain that now?

"Oh." There is no need, you realize. No more words are necessary for the Hashira in front of you to understand your reasons at once.

However, you are not sure if that knowledge makes you happy.

You shift one foot after the other, playing with your balance as you remember how many times you asked to meet Master Shinazugawa and how many times Kyojuro talked you out of it. It were his words as your superior that you respected enough to carry out his wishes...

At least until Oyakata-sama himself called for you to ask you to join the Wind Hashira on a hunting adventure that had come his way.

"I'm sorry!" You exclaim at the top of your lungs, bowing.

Sanemi frowns even deeper, but this time with confusion. His voice is next to appear:

"What are you doing?! Stop you idiot!" A weary sigh calms you enough to look back at his face. You shrug, a soft smile painted on your lips. "Whatever. Wait for me here, we'll be gone in a moment."

Your enthusiastic nod only elicits another groan from him. His figure turns around and disappears into his residence, giving you the opportunity to observe the large trees and the huge garden that surrounds the wooden house.

It looks like a quiet, comfortable home. Definitely much quiet than the place you shared with Kyojuro as his tsuguko, and with three guys a little too hyperactive.

Your eyes roam the neatly arranged room, the fine armchairs and china arrangements on fully stocked bookcases. You can't help but smile at how long such order would last in your own residence with your 4 favorite walking disasters present.

"But why can't I go too?"

"I don’t need you."

"If it's an easy one they shouldn't send a Hashira..."

"Who said it was an easy one?!"

Your attention flows into the structure, watching two tall figures walk towards you.

Sanemi is wearing his classic outfit now, instead of the training uniform, and the boy next to him, Genya, his brother, frowns at the shout the Hashira just let out.

"Idiot..." The younger of the two murmurs under a sigh, but continuing on his way next to the white-haired one.

"I don't think it will take too long." Sanemi replies, giving him a death glare. "Take care of the place while I'm gone."

"As if I ever hadn't." Genya murmurs, arms crossed.

A simple smile is drawn on your lips at the scene, attracting the dark-haired boy's gaze faster than you would have liked.

His eyes widen in surprise and his mouth falls in reflex as he turns to his brother with raised eyebrows.

"And what are you lookin at now?" Sanemi spits out, almost baring his fangs.

Genya gently shakes his head, widening his eyes even further: "Isn't she who...?"

The Hashira's huge hand shoots at his brother's head, holding it in a threatening movement for several seconds until he finishes whispering something into his ear.

A threat that, more than scaring the minor, encourages him to let out a mocking laugh and to say goodbye to both of you with a huge smile that seems to warm up the top of the ears of your companion.

...

Traveling to the northern village began as a journey nothing if not heavy.

Sanemi was not someone who was easy to strike up a conversation with, and you had to realize that sooner than later.

Monosyllables. That's the only thing you can expect for an answer. A "yes", a "no", a shrug of the shoulders or an irritated sigh; and, if the Hashira is feeling generous, maybe he'll give you an "Enough already"

Was that he was still angry about the incident with Rengoku?, or is it his nature that prevents him from trying to be the least bit nice?

Whatever the case was, it is gettin in your nerves. And maybe that’s why you get along so well with the guys and Kyojuro: they just never shut up. And neither do you. So how is this supposed to work now?

“How about we play a game?” You try now, giving him the most unstable smile he could have seen in a while.

His eyes travel to yours, slowly. He tilts his head with an almost imperceptible movement and your smile is now threatening to split your face in two.

“Mhm.” Sanemi shrugs and turns to the road again.

Your blood boils in your veins. You’re not going to be able to stand the next two and half hours of travel this way. Agh!

“Just answer me, would you?!” You snap, abruptly stopping. “I’m sorry about what happened with Master Rengoku, but I'm here now and I’m trying to make it up for both of us!, I wanted to talk to you too, I actually wanted to see your training, I WAS JUST FOLLOWING ORDERS, ASSHOLE!”

The silence after your scream cuts the air. The crow above your heads squawks between the discomfort as you feel your teeth pressed together. The wind caresses your skin, cold, and you swear this is how he would feel.

“I see something… yellow.”

It takes you a moment to restart your brain cells. One blink, two blinks. He’s standing right in front of you, not even looking in your direction; one hand on the Katana’ handle and his breath as calm as you have ever heard.

… Is he trying to play?

Your mouth feels dry. Your heart in the throat still. Of course.

“That yellow flag…”

��No.” He answers.

Both of you continue walking in silence, soft steps directed to that still far destiny.

“The curtains of that house.”

“No.”

“The dress of that girl.”

“No.”

“Haven’t we passed it already?” You ask, looking back to see if something yellow made it out of your sight.

“No.”

The shoes, those doors, the ornaments, that house, the hair of that man…

“No.”

“Agh! I don’t know. Screw it, you’re impossible…” You groan, looking at him. “What is it?”

He then turns to you, grin on his face and bright eyes of someone who just won. Well, at least he looks more happy now, it doesn’t matter if…

“The sun”

This mother…

“The sun it’s not yellow!”

“Of course it is!”

“No! Look at it now, do you see it yellow?” He frowns, glancing at you like you were crazy.

“Of course I’m not looking at it, I’m not stupid.”

That’s debatable.

“The sun is not yellow, that game wasn’t fair.”

“Everyone draws it yellow.” He shrugs, ignoring the looks of other people on the two of you.

You clench your jaw. Does he feel like he won?, let’s show him how stupid he really is.

“My turn.” You rush, looking around you. “I see something… White.”

“The clouds.”

“No.”

“The wall.”

“No.”

“If this is some kind of joke…” He looks at you as you spread an innocent smile over your face. “That doll.”

You turn your head as you actually thought about it, but then: “No.”

Ten more objects passed over his lips movements, his patience running low with every response your gave him.

“Do you give up?” You ask, leaning in his direction.

“No. Shut up.”

Another ten objects and the town it’s left behind, making him grow angrier with every step. C'mon, everything in the woods was brown and green, what the hell would be your excuse for cheating now?

“Do you give up?” You ask again, confusing his thoughts.

“Screw you.” He sentences, avoiding your gaze.

You take that as a yes.

Your smile widens and he lets out a sight, irritated.

“That.” Your hand raises and points to his head. “Your hair.”

His face… priceless. His clenching fist… threatening. He feels the anger raise up to his system as his eyes fix on the white strand falling to his face, smacking reason into him.

Nah, that should have been cheating, it wasn’t allowed, was it?, choosing something of one of the players. It wasn’t fair because… because he didn’t even thought for a second his hair was the thing you were seeing. Fuck off…

He looks at you, frowning and with his canines showing; but in the moment you burst out laughing, his walls crumble.

The joy that emanates from your throat is… lovely. He had never got the chance to hear it before, always too far from you, always too distracted. Your eyes are almost close as your smile spreads across your face, and then…

“Don’t look at me like that, neither of us can beat the other!” You let go your body to his, dropping your head on his shoulder with a soft movement. Then he learned your first love language: touch.

And it was bad, it was too bad, because he loved the touch, he craved it, but most of the time he didn’t know how to ask for it. So when someone he finds lovely takes ahead, he just can’t help it: he doesn’t want to lose it.

His hands raise to your shoulders and brings back your body against him, brute. Chest to chest, skin caressing skin, and cold wind messing his stupid white hair.

His eyes are glued to the distance in front of him, refusing you the possibility to look at his face. And maybe it was okay, because you would have got scared at how uneasy he looked, what the hell is he doing?

His brows are strongly furrowed and his arms are shaking with the idea of the mistake he just made; but he doesn’t seem to be able to lose the grip on your body.

And he just hates it, he hates it until you let out a soft happy sigh and rub your nose against the skin on his collarbones, he hates it until you let your head rest on his shoulder and your arms climb to wrap around his neck.

“This is nice.” And he doesn’t hates it anymore. 'Cause you murmur with your lips touching his skin, easing the crawl of anxiety you got every time you went on a mission.

So he lets go, lowering his arm to your waist, applying comforting pressure to your body. His head drops to your shoulders and he swears the rhythm of his heart calms as your essence surrounds him.

Another squawk echoes from the sky and his hands tighten on the fabric of your kimono.

"You know that the Demon in that town could be a Kizuki, right?"

"Mmm... Mhm" You nod.

"Genya doesn't know anything, I didn't want to worry him... He's always been affected a bit more than the others." Sanemi sighs, his cold hands giving a pleasant chill to your skin. "I'm not your master and I don't give a shit about oaths... If things get ugly, you're out, do you understand me?"

"No, wait..."

Sanemi stands back up to his full height, his arms still around you and his face inches from yours; widened pupils that don't leave your eyes for a second.

"I don't want you to play hero, all you'll do is embarrass yourself. I want you to get out of there and bring Rengoku or Tengen with you, do you understand?"

You shake your head, looking down. This is not how it is suppose to work.

"That's an order."

"Genya would never forgive me. If I came back without you, I would never forgive me... Not if this is our first mission together."

The Hashira shakes his head in amusement.

"He will. You will. It's an occupational hazard."

Your eyes go up to his, how can you fit in so well with someone you've only just met?, how can you feel it under your skin?

"I don't need you to promise me that you will..." He whispers, his lips brushing your cheek now and his lashes caressing your temple. "I need you to obey."

Your heart pounds in your chest, throwing you off balance. You have no choice but to nod.

...

The village... The village was not in the form you expected to find it.

There were no bodies on the sidewalks and no blood running down the streets. No screams or terrified people. It didn't look at all like what Oyakata-sama had described as "a village subjugated by a demon".

The only thing that seems to warn of danger is the strange atmosphere in which everyone seems to move. Pink particles that float through the entire town and begin to blur your vision just 10 minutes after your arrival.

"What is this?" You whisper, reaching your hand out in front of you trying to catch a few between your fingers.

Sanemi shakes his head next to you, tapping your wrist to stop you from doing that.

"I have no idea, but I don't think it's the best to stick around too long to find out what happens if we keep breathing this shit." A man walks in front of you, smiling a little too friendly, lowering his eyes to your entire shape. "This thing keeps them calm and happy one way or another. We need to get to the Demon before this lowers our own defenses."

After a few comments, you both agree that the best way to find the responsible for all of that was following the path to the biggest concentration of pink particles. But with every step you keep taking to the big house on the edge of the town, your head feels more and more light and your feet start to move on their own.

You two need to finish this as quickly as possible or you won’t be able to fight right.

“Let me take the front, you enter from the back. Let’s take it by surprise and cut its head off once for all.”

Sanemi smirks at your plan, nodding.

“Whatever you say, little flame.” He agrees, taking his katana. “Just try not to die before I get there to save your ass, got it?”

You smile as you see his frame disappear when he turns to the next lane, white hair floating between the darkness. He’s going to do his part, you’re sure, and you need to do yours if you want to prove everyone and yourself that you deserved to be the next Fire Hashira.

The front door creeks at your intrusion, letting you observe with apprehensiveness the first hall on sight. Your steps appear to make too much noise and your ears keep warning you on every little noise you’re aware of.

Katana on hand, it is the only thing that makes you feel ready to whatever it’s coming. That said, your movements are clumsier at every minute that passes, and the amount of concentration of pink dust in that house was crazy. You could barely see two steps ahead of you.

“C’mon, c’mon..” You mutter, rushing your steps upstairs. “Where are y…?”

“Where is your lover?”

You stop every single movement of your muscles at the voice breathing on the back of your neck. A chill runs thought your spine. Shit, you couldn’t even sense her smell by now.

“I’m sure he was with you on your way here…” She continues, starting to walk into your sight.

“Do you mean that white haired guy?” You ask, raising your katana in front of you, furrowing your brows.

“Yes!” She exalts, smiling with bright fangs. “Where is he?, did he left you? Already?”

Her pretty face shrugs in confusion, looking at you like she was really concerned about your answer. She’s tall, a lot more than you, and her dark hair seems to float around her pink dress, giving her an strange aura you have never felt before… But that could be just the amount of pink particles you had inhaled by now.

“It was about the guy you kissed months ago?, Is he jealous?” Her bright eyes give her a childish, almost innocent appearance.

You step back. How did she managed to know about that?

“You kissed him too just a couple of days ago, isn’t?!” Your eyes fly open at her statement, felling like an idiot the moment your face starts to turn red. How could you be blushing in a moment like this? “But you don’t feel the same way… Is it because this new man?”

Her voice trembles and you force yourself to look at her eyes. You feel your chest let go at the realization: She wasn’t a Kizuki. But the way tears start to build up under her eyes tells you that her explosive personality could be the real problem.

“But then why did he leave you?! Didn’t he know you want him?”

“No…” You try to calm her. Your hand tightens on your weapon, getting nervous at how every rush of emotions lets out another wave of pinky particles. “He’s not my lover, he just had things to do.”

“N-No… But you two… I was sure…” Her knees buckle, looking at you with hidden pain in her features.

“It’s okay.” You coo. As pacific as her death could, the better.

“No… No, no!” Another pink wave hits you straight on the face. “You’re lying!, or you don’t- you don’t know how he… Where is he? Where is he?!”

“I’m here.”

Both pairs of eyes fly to the the back door of the room, widening with different emotions at the white haired figure brandishing a katana on its hands.

“Yes!, he came!” She looks at you with evident excitement and you need to hide the amusement at the confusion written on Sanemi’s face. “Now I can tell you how he feels, now you can know I wasn’t wrong!”

That seems to activate something in the Hashira. Sanemi clenches his jaw, tensing up.

“Fuck this.” He whispers, rushing towards the demon with a clean movement, seeking to cut off his head in one move.

However, the smile on the girls face only gets bigger and bigger. Jumping aside, the blade misses her neck for inches.

You get on action now, taking advantage of the distraction caused with Sanemi intervention to direct your katana to her feet, hitting below her knees with almost a perfect technique. Still, your legs feel weak at the sudden movement and your fantastic success is quickly overpowered by your face crashing on the floor.

Before the demon falls, her crawls aim to Sanemi, who just in time steps back and brandish his katana so the entire hand of the girl is cut off her body.

You had seen it before, a thousand times with Rengoku: the only thing that could make a Hashira spend more than three minutes with a demon is a number on its eyes. Anything else, they would tear it apart.

The demon in front of you… She wouldn’t stand a chance.

And she appears to knows it, too early, too easy.

Sanemi’s blade doesn’t stop for a second, it redirects to her neck, letting the flesh slide through the metal, dropping an amused head to the ground with a soft thud.

Her body stays still on the air, frozen in time, just a few centimeters above the wooden floor; still connected to the Demon emotions.

A prostitute, you realize.

She was a prostitute, a girl too innocent for that kind of job. A girl without family, without friends, just her and business. A girl who dreamed of another life, a beautiful life, with a house, a dog and a man who loved her above anything else. She spent her last minutes as human believing she would find true love with one of those men she had in her bed.

And on her last night, she did. She fell in love. But the beast there saw another kind of potential for her, another job. So she took his blood and never got tired of it.

He never loved me…

“Flame, step back!”

Between those sheets, I never found love…

“Master!”

“But you…” She raises her gaze, smiling so pure that your heart drops at the sight. “You are going to find it. It’s really here…”

Her body twitches on the air and her skin starts to break on even more pink cracks that threaten to split at any given moment.

“I’m so happy for you two… I’m happy now.”

“Get down!”

Sanemi’s voice is the last thing you hear before her whole body exploits into uncountable waves of red particles, washing over you with so much strength that your own body is thrown to the nearest wall.

“Master?” Your voice is barely a whisper and yet, your throat aches at the minimal effort.

Your lungs tighten every time you breathe and your legs feel weak, too weak. Moving out of the room can’t even be in your plans right now.

Everything you see is just red.

…

“You stupid idiot, where are you?”

It is Sanemi. His voice is what brings you back now, again. His steps seem to be still far from you, but you can tell he’s getting closer.

The red dust has almost disappeared by now, only a few particles remain floating around you and your hair. What a disaster…

“I’m still here, Master.” You answer, trying your best to get on your feet again.

“Yeah, no shit.” His mad voice echoes trough the walls before his tall frame appears crossing the back door once again, too. “Lucky you…”

“Lucky me?, I have no idea how much of that red shit I just inhaled…” You frow, raising your face to meet his a few feet from you. Yet, the one thing that catch your eye is the enormous hole on the room’s window. Oh… “Lucky me, I guess”

He huffs at your realization, taking a few steps ahead, watching for himself from how high he had fell. A new record, it seems.

“Are you hurt?” You ask, shaking off some more dust from your clothes. He doesn’t respond, still looking through the window. “What is this shit anyways?”

You start to walk closer to him, muttering some more questions under your breath. Nothing really important as you try to convince yourself that the Wind Hashira is tough enough to take that fall, that he would be okay, that Shinobu would make sure of that.

By the way, you need to send a crow as soon as possible so they can know about Sanemi’s state…

“Stop”

Eh?

The Hashira’s hand is raised up to your chest, indicating you for don’t keeping getting any closer to him.

“What?”

“Stop. Just fucking stop” His voice cracks at the last word, turning on all your alerts.

“Sanemi?, are you felling unwell? Does something hurt?” Your hand reaches out for his shoulder and you take it back almost immediately.

He was burning…

“Sanemi?, are you…?”

“Get away from me. Now.”

His voice is harsh and doesn’t leave space for questions. You had only heard him using it on another slayers, leaving them with wreaked knees and whole body trembles.

Still, seeing the way his eyes shut close, almost painfully, you just couldn’t seem to obey this order.

“Why?, what do you feel?” You coo, leaning closer to him.

His response comes with another tremble.

“I’m hot. I feel like I’m burning alive…”

Your heart sinks, drowning in impotence when you don’t find anything you can do immediately to take that pain away from him.

“It’s okay, I’ll send a letter to Shinobu right now, I’m sure she will know what to do.” You try, taking him from both shoulders.

“No. You go…” He shakes his head, getting your hands off of him. “I want you out of this room.”

“No, what are you talking about?, I’m not leaving you.” You reach for him again. “Come on now, can you walk?”

You raise his arm on your own, trying to lock it over your shoulders to help him move, but his head starts to shake in denial the moment you step closer, struggling with each other.

“No. No, it’s okay…”

“Let me help you��”

“No, leave me.”

“C'mon now, just let me…”

“I told you to stop!”

The next thing you feel is your ass crashing down the floor, hard. His movements were too sudden and his strength too much for you. You need to look up to him to realize how far he had just pushed you.

However, any hints of anger wash away when you focus on his face:

White salty hair sticked to his even more pale skin, unmatched breath and open eyes with extremely widened pupils.

Oh.. and a bulge between his legs.

It hits you.

Hard.

That’s what that red dust was: an aphrodisiac. A powerful one for what you could see. You feel stupid for have just realized what you had let Sanemi gotten in to. He probably was in an even moren affected state since the beginning.

You start to remember your way to this house, how the men seem to be in an perpetual infatuation’ state. Even the Wind Hashira looked approachable under that pink dust. You bet women loved how easy was to deal with men under that spell.

Gods, you and Shinobu should start a new project right away…

“Out.” Sanemi orders, avoiding to look in your direction. You open your mouth just in time to be interrupted again: “Get out before I do something we will both regret tomorrow.”

You begin to shake your head as soon as his words hit you in the throat. His pain is evident, his face is red and his fists clench around nothing, digging his nails to his own flesh, so hard that you fear it’ll start bleeding.

Did he plan on you leaving him like that?

“Look at me…” You ask. “Look at me, Sanemi.” The way his eyes lift at the mention of his name dropping of your lips gets you walking to him in no time. “If I get out of here now I won’t be able to come back for at least three hours, you sure you can hold on until that?, you sure you won’t do something mad out of desperation before that?”

“If you do not leave this room right now I’m sure I will do something mad.” His eyes have turned bestial and his knuckles are white, clenching now so hard on the window frame you’re sure he will break the wood under his fingers soon.

Your heart pounds on your chest and your brain is working at full speed. You should go, you should start running as soon as possible and bring help here, but again, how long would that take?, how much suffering he would have to bear when you…?

“Fuck!” The pain that exudes his voice is the breaking point for you when you watch him fold on his stomach, bracing himself like he would die right there.

“Would you really regret it?!” You exclaim, looking down to his widened pupils.

He shakes his head, unsure.

“I don’t want to mess up whatever is going between you and Rengoku” He admits, frowning.

“What?, what are you talking about?, there’s nothing going with me and Kyojuro.”

He starts to try to stand straight again, still clenching to his stomach. You do your best to help him, letting him use your shoulder as a support and then getting your hands under his, so your arms avoid him to come down again.

Still, he lets out a desperate groan when your chest and his own rub through the movements and his hot skin touches your cold.

“That witch said you kissed a guy, right?, wasn’t it Rengoku?” His head drops to your shoulder. Hot breath running chills against your sensitive skin.

You nod, letting Sanemi's essence surround you.

“And she also said I didn’t feel the same… Remember?” That was the first time you admitted that out loud. “So tell me now if you will regret it so much so I can go out and bring help…”

“I would kill for having you in my arms the whole night, flame.” His lips brush against your neck, igniting your hear in only one sentence. “But if we do this, if we do this right now..” he lets you feel again the bulge pressing against your lower stomach. “I’m not letting you go back to him. This won’t be a one night stand, flame. I’m keeping you… so you tell me if it won’t be you the one who regrets it tomorrow.”

You smile, felling his head moving out of the crock of your neck to look at you directly on the face.

You get on your tip toes, pushing both of the tips of your noses together. His lips brush against yours and you start to wonder if that red dust didn’t affect you too. But with the growing tension, the only thing you can do is closing your eyes and crave for him to close the space that still remained between your bodies.

“I need words, little flame.” He grins, and when you open your eyes you swear you haven’t seen such a beautiful man in your entire life.

“I won’t regret it.” You smile, sure, running your fingers through his white strands, trying to make him certain of your decision. “Let’s do this.”

“You won’t run away?”

“Where else could I be, idiot?”

The way his lips crash against yours lets you feel how much pain was still running trough his system. The way his hands clench to your hips, forcing your body to curve into his, lets you feel how much desire he is holding on.

Your legs wrap around his waist when he lifts you from the floor. You can feel that he’s moving, but his hot lips dancing against yours, letting his wet tongue explore your mouth, avoid you to acknowledge anything else.

His neck then curves to lower his head, placing soft wet kisses to your sensitive skin from your jaw to your collarbones. Your mouth falls open, letting out a low gasp at the way his huge hands start to browse your body. You feel him everywhere.

Still, it is how his teeth crave into your skin what brings you back to what was really happening. No matter how much you would have wished this to occur under different circumstances, you can’t let the joy of the moment distracts you for what you need to do right here, right now, this time.

You drop from Sanemi’s embrace and plant your feet on the floor again. His confused face doesn’t last long after your hands push his chest and force his body to fall onto the bed of the room he had brought you two to.

“What are you…? Oh, fuuuuck.” Your tongue tracing the fine line of hair from his pelvis to his navel makes him arch his back with a loud groan falling from his clenched teeth.

Your hands travel around his exposed torso before you push your body up, straddling his hips with your legs. He takes you by the neck and pulls you into a kiss, devouring your mouth as you roll down your hips, applying friction on his crotch. The hardness in his pants rubs against your clit just right and you let a moan fall from your mouth, making him groan.

“Fuck, please, Flame…”

The desperation in his voice takes you by surprise when he takes by the waist and applies pressure down on him, forcing you to feel how bad he needed you.

You leave one last kiss on his jaw before kneeling down, looking at him when your fingers pull at the edge of his pants. Sweaty white locks glued to his forehead and a slight brush of pink across his cheeks and nose gives you every answer your needed. You pull down the fabric and he finishes to toss it off his feet, freeing his cock in front of you.

Well, his idiocy is definitely not the only big thing about him. Shit, is that really going to fit inside you?

You take him with one hand, giving it a few strokes, unsure. You are a virgin after all, you are not quite confident that you are doing it right. You move your hand up and down, applying pressure and registering Sanemi’s reactions; and when you pass your thumb across the tip and he throws his head back, you know you did something right.

“Just like that…” The white haired murmurs, supporting his weight on his elbows, closing his eyes, enjoying the soft caresses of your little hands of him, not sure if it was the red dust what was making his body feel surrounded in flames or  just how much he had dreamed about this from the first time he saw you...

God, this shit is getting on his brain, he needs to make sure it doesn’t get to his tongue.

Tongue...

“Fuck-... Flame!” His hand tugs at your hair as the wet contact of your mouth wraps around him. 

His eyes dart to look at you between his legs, your lips just a few millimeters from the tip and dove eyes looking in his direction. His breathing gets stuck in his throat and suddenly, Sanemi feels guilt pounding in his chest.

“Did I do it wrong?” You ask just above your breath and he swears he could die right there and now. 

“No, no... It’s just... We should change positions, c’mon, I want to make you feel good too...” He starts shifting his body before you press a hand on his chest again, shaking your head. 

“No, Sanemi...” You climb up to him without letting go of his cock, also raising your free hand to his shoulder. “Tonight is about helping you, besides...” You press your lips to his ear as you whisper: “You’ll make me feel good in a bit too.”

And you swear you can feel him throb in your hand. 

His eyes are glued to you as you lower down to your knees again. You let your tongue fall out your mouth, pressing along all his long shape before wraping your lips at the top and taking his balls and the bottom with your hand. 

The first few moves you try are just testing, because you can't get him deep enough before you gag. So when his hands tangles on your hair again but instead of pushing you away bring you closer to him, you know you’re fucked. 

“Relax your throat and stick your tongue out... Yes, like that.” His hand starts pushing you down and you feel your eyes getting watery as his tip hits the deep of your throat. “Juuuust like that. Good girl.”

You take a deep breath when he goes all the way back again and, before you know, he’s pushing into you with a new found rhythm. Your hands grasp at his hips, trying to mantain a little control over your body as brutal groans scape from his lips and the thrusting becomes even more erratic. 

You gag one more time and look at him with those lust-filled eyes and he truly believes he has never seen anything hotter. His hips stutter and he lets out a soft moan after a deep groan when he pulls you out just in time, ‘cause not even understanding what was going on, you followed his movements and now your pretty face was splattered in cum. 

He was wrong, there was something even hotter. 

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He’s not. Do not believe him. 

You smile and grab your kimono’s sleeve to wipe it off only for him to pull at your wrist and stop you. You open your eyes big and look at him closing the distance between your bodies. His thumb comes at your face and colects the cum with a couple of movements. 

“Open.” He orders, tapping your lower lip with his knuckles. 

You obey him, letting your jaw fall down just enough so he could push in his thumb, letting you taste him as he pressed down your tongue with malice. A grin appears on his face as your lips close around his finger. 

“Stop being so goddamn sinful, little flame.” 

A genuine smile breaks your act. You got caught. He pulls away and you let out a soft laugh, looking at him with bright eyes. God, how could this feel so right?

 “How are you feeling?” You ask, soon enough your features are full of concern again and he hates the sight of it. 

His big hands grab at your waist and pull you up to his lap, wraping his arms around you. You blink with curiosity at him when he frowns and press his index right between your brows. 

“Don’t do that, you’ll get wrinkles.”

You let out a loud laugh before pressing your own index on his forehead too. “But you are doing the same, idiot.” He looks up and huffs, letting his hand fall again to your hips. “Besides, smiling also creates wrinkles, here...” You touch both side of his eyes.

“Those I don’t care.” He complains, narrowing his eyes. 

“How are you feeling?” You ask again, preoccupied that the pain from the begginind hadn’t stopped. 

“Better. I can stop here, I feel good enough to wait for Shinobu if that’s what you’re asking, Flame.” Sanemi’s lips are now brushing agaisnt yours with every word his lips drop. “But I don’t want to. So tell me if I need to stop right now, we’ll do whatever feels okay with you.”

Your red face is the only thing that doesn’t feel okay. For fuck’s sake... C’mon!, what happened to all your confidence? No, why did you have to sit there?!

“Did you listen, little flame?, it’s okay if you want to stop here.” 

You shake you head at his suggestion, looking down. He tries to tilt your head up with his fingers but you refuse it, bitting your lip before your are able to speak.

“... This feels okay.” You whisper, rocking down your hips with his hard cock. His hands tighten on your skin and you are still wondering if he knew how wet you got of feeling him growing underneath you all this time. 

“Fine.” Is the only thing he says before he turns you around and drops your back against the mattress.

Sanemi undresses you quickly, big scratchy hands that run over your body without any shame. Your kimono slips off your shoulders when your breasts are exposed. Sanemi is fully hard again and... He was lying to you. He wasn't okay, every second tested his ability to keep his hands to himself, every time you touched him he ignited, just how much pain was he willing to take if you believed him?

His eyes follow each of your agitated breaths and you now know perfectly well that the red dust is still running through his entire system. His lips wrap around your right nipple while two of his fingers pinch the left one, creating electrical currents down your body. You let out a gasp, feeling his tongue dancing on your skin, but not satisfied with that, he presses his teeth down your nipple, not letting go until you whimper under him, and with that, he crawls to your lips again, demanding for his tongue to be taken into your mouth.

“Sanemi…” You whisper, cupping his face between your hands.

As he works with your lower lip, one of his hands loosens the skirt of your kimono and takes it down your legs, letting you push it off your feet to the floor. His fingers then trace down your leg up to your inner thighs, pressing his thumb slowly on your bundle of nerves and forcing a moan out of you straight to his lips.

“Let me prepare you, little flame.” He says, pleas, as his digit works on you, making your squirm under him.

“Mhm..!, Sanemi, no…”

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m gonna take care of you.”

Your panties finally come off and you are, now, completely exposed to him. He accommodates you on top of a pillow, letting your head rest as he backs up a bit, only enough to watch your entire body, dark pupils all over it, red cheeks calling for another thing but just lust.

“You’re so, so beautiful, flame.” He grins, hidden thoughts under his tongue. “I’m scared to stain you…”

“Sanemi-”

“Am I even worth to it, love?” The sudden pet name takes you by surprise, letting you silenced for his next sentence: “I don’t think I have ever hold something so precious, I-”

“I want it to be you, Sanemi.” You interrupt him, smiling. “I’m starting to suspect Oyakata-sama knew what he was doing putting the two of us in this mission.”

He lets go of a simple laugh, warming your heart. “Do you really think so?”

You nod, cupping his pale face between your hands to peck his lips three times. His hand rests above one of yours, bringing you closer to him, enjoying your essence surrounding him.

“Thank you.” He whispers.

You try to look at his face to talk him out of “thanking you” but you’re suddenly pushed back into the mattress, covered by his whole body.

“Now let’s do this right, shall we?”

“Sane- Oh, fuck!” His fingers start to play on your clit without a warning, pressing down on your skin, almost making spread your legs with no other thought in your head.

His pace is savage, delicious, bringing you closer to the edge only for him to stop, delighting himself with the way you squirm under him, noting how he was the first man to make you feel this way.

Soon, one of his fingers looks for your entrance, moving cautiously until he finds it, then, he curves.

“Mhmmm…!”

“Yes, right there, love, isn’t it?” He gives you a sided smile, taking a much faster rhythm and adding a second finger a moment later, opening you for him. “I’m gonna need you to tell me if something doesn’t feel right when I put it in, okay?”

You nod, biting down your lip. His words were like an echo comparing to the felling overflowing all of your senses. However, instead of positioning right, your master continued with his finger inside of you, pulsing every time harder and harder.

“Sanemi… It’s okay, I can ~ah~ do it now…”

He shakes his head. His pupils almost take the entirety of his eyes by now, looking down at you when he says:

“I need you as relaxed as possible. I don’t want to hurt you, Flame… So I need to take one out of you first.”

His left hand comes down on your throat, deliciously squeezing, as a third finger joins the pair inside of you and his thumb takes over your clit. It soon becomes too much to bear and you can’t say no more than “yes” every time a new motion brings closer and closer to your ecstasy.

And it comes sooner than expected: crashing, destructive all over your body, making you grip fiercely to Sanemi’s arms, arching your back on senseless movements.

“That’s right, little flame.” His praising words drawn another moan from you, taking you back from your orgasm sweet and gentle. Two words you couldn’t believe, described the Wind Hashira. “Do you feel good now?”

You nod, closed eyes and sloppy smile.

“Yeah.” You grant. He steals another kiss and looks at you in the eyes. “Come here, Sanemi…”

As you share a deeper kiss he finally positions between your legs, still playing softly with your clit, and pressing the tip into your entrance. You gasp to his mouth and his tongue takes the chance to come down in you, letting you taste the salt and forest in him.

Sanemi starts to slide in, bruising grip on your hips when he groans, murmuring under his breath “you’re tight…”. The sting that comes along alerts your senses, but the feeling clouds them again. The pain and the pleasure had never been in such a close line before.

“I’m… Oh, god- I’m gonna start moving now, okay?” His head is beside yours and his breathing sends shivers down your spine.

You lift your legs, interlacing them around his waist when you nod.

Slowly, he exits you only half of his shaft, and pushes in again. Both of you gasp at the feeling. Your nails look for his skin one more time, burying themselves and leaving furious red marks on him as he repeats this movement enough times for you to accustom his size.

That was seven minutes ago.

Now that you have given him green flag to start moving as he wished so, now he was on his knees and your hips lifted up to him, with both of his hands holding you up by the waist as he thrusted into you in what it seemed an unstoppable pace.

Your moans were loud, specially since, on a particularly hard thrust that made you clench on him, Sanemi had growled and bitted down your shoulder, hurting the skin but sending you on another uncontrollable orgasm.

You don’t think you can take one more.

“Don’t close your eyes, flame. Look at me.” He takes by the chin, forcing you to lock gazes with him. He grins and you can feel him starting to squeeze on your throat again. “Mhm! Fuck, you like that, don’t you?, I know you like it because you squeeze me down here… and you moan, shit, you moan so sweet, little flame.”

“Sanemi…” You whimper, arching your back and pressing your fingers on his biceps, giving him exactly what he needed.

“I’m gonna cum, love. Oh- I’m gonna…”

“Inside.” You bring your arms around his neck when your back finally meets the mattress again and his body comes closer to yours.

“I-I can’t, flame. We can’t.”

He’s not lying. He might be dying to impregnate you and get his seed deep into you, hell, he can get completely turned on only with the thought of fucking a baby into your tummy, but…

You shake your head, pleasure clouding your reasonable brain when your legs find their own way to lock behind Sanemi, mumbling one more time “inside”

Well, fuck it.

The white haired resumes his brutal thrusts, continuing brushing your clit with the thumb of his right hand and pressing down your throat with his left.

He edges you for some more minutes, keeping you moaning into his ear and screaming his name as he wished so; but finally, his hips start to lose control and the big dom man above you soon turns into a mess of grunts and low whimpers almost asking you to make him cum.

“Oh, please, please, pleaseeeee… Fuck!, Ah! Fuck… So-so good.”

You wished you could have laugh at the moans of your master, but you weren’t in an exactly better state right now. If worst, you could barely speak and your legs were trembling intensely with your tummy still having spasms every three seconds, bringing another gasp out of you.

Sanemi moved out of you and to your side like a big cat that had been just fed and was ready to take a deserved nap.

“Are you okay?, how are you feeling?” His arm comes under your body, bringing you closer to him.

“I’m okay, how are you feeling?” You repeat, concern still hidden in your voice. Was he still in pain?

“I’ll survive.” He smiles, tilting his head, but the answer doesn’t sit right on you and he can almost immediately tell. “I’m okay now, Flame. I swear. Believe, if a need another little dosis of help, I’ll let you know.”

This time it’s you who breaks into a smile, smacking his chest playfully while you shake your head. At the action, he throws his head back, laughing with his eyes closed. He had never felt this happy before, he didn’t remember how good it felt. To love. To be loved.

It is really here.

And you have never seen such a beautiful thing before. If you could burn into your pupils a permanent image for the rest of your life, this would be it.

To want to hold something forever.

“Sleep, little flame, we have a big journey tomorrow.”

You are already yawning as he speaks, nodding and not even protesting at his words. Your legs were jelly, your vocal cords sore and the tiredness of the fight was finally catching up to you.

“Mhm-mhm, good night, Sanemi.”

He grins, placing the covers on top of both you.

“Good night, love.”

His lips pressed on your forehead are the last thing you feel before finally surrendering to your heavy eyelids, but you can still swear you hear the soft and lovely laugh of that little demon somewhere out there.

She’s glad you’re happy.

You’re glad she’s finally in a place where she can be too.

[oh-no-its-bird]

Tora gets hit w the time travel beam *gestures vaguely towards the "team ro time travel to warring states era but make it Tora AU team ro" post*

And gets mistaken for a bastard senju kid and missing brother of Tobirama bc of the resemblance. But also using the same logic I used w Itachi of the "the only people allowed to draw the connection are people who personally knew Tobirama when he was Tora's age (which, if sticking to the original team ro prompt, would be like 12) so only like. The founders + Touka get to make that conclusion

Him 🤝 Tenzo -> getting mistaken for a Senju and getting lots of hugs from Hashirama that make them Feel Things (TM)

People are telling Tora he's probably a bastard kid and he's making deliberate eye contact w that one time he tried to break into the senju compound and was kicked out bc the gates keyed into senju blood specifically. He's pretty sure he's not a senju guys. Trust him. Really.

Mmmm ok but actually taking it seriously, how would Tora affect the team ro dynamics in that specific adventure? In my original post I went really in depth on what each character thinks of their situation + the founders, so would that change at all?

On top of that, since it's a few month before the Uchiha coup, it's also peak Itachi-Tora-Shisui chaos hours as they plot to stop it

I think it's mostly the same, tho maybe Tora's general affect on Itachi means he isn't quite so much in the "Hey what if we just kill Madara. What then." boat

But also I can see the opposite, with maybe Itachi instead getting Tora on the "Hey what if we kill Madara in his sleep" boat

Shisui can sense the "Tora and Itachi are doing something alarming" button being slammed in the room over and investigates

Oh my god worst possible outcome: they get Shisui on board too. I can see it tbh, they were looking for ways to avoid the coup and the possible village retaliation and like hey !!! Opportunity they sure as fuck won't be getting anywhere else!!!

Plus like, play into the "Itachi rarley offers his own opinion bc he trusts Tora and Shisui to be in charge, but when he does offer it he's listened to"

Well he sure did offer his opinion!! And he sure is being listened to!!!

They actually all just feed into eachothers stress and decide that yes. To avoid the Uchiha coup and or possible village retaliation (they dont know the massacre is on the board yet but suspect smthn similarly bad), this is the best choice to make.

It turns into Kakashi having to talk them all down (whether he does so in time or not is debatable)

They get stopped, obviously, (tho actually commiting to killing off Madara like that would be very funny) and Madara assumes it was Tora's idea bc hes a clear leading figure in the trio and the other two are Uchiha. Tora is willing to take the fall for his friend, but Itachi is not

Itachi has a whole breakdown and bursts into awful messy tears for the first time since his father took him out to a battlefield as a child.

It's a whole thing and everyone is horrified (Tora and Shisui especially but even Madara + whoever else was there are cringing awkwardly at the sight of a previously blank faced little kid just. Loosing it.)

Itachi confesses to it being his idea and, at this point we're past the time travel reveal, explains he just needs to make sure Madara doesn't freak the fuck out and inevitable fuck over the entire Uchiha clan w a shitty reputation that haunts him for years to come

Madara is horrified what the fuck

Also INCREDIBLY demoralized ab the village now, what do you MEAN he fucking left it what do you MEAN originally Izuna died (they were keeping them in the dark ab everything future-wise other than just the fact that the village existed but this kind of forced the lid off that pot)

Also note: Kakashi !! Was !! Not !! Aware of this !!! Holy shit kids !!!!!!

They end up having a whole Thing(tm) about how look even if Madara one of the causes of their shit reputation,,, it can't all be traced back to and blamed on one man. That's not how politics work you guys.

(Queue shocked Pikachu faces and disbelief of three teenagers)

Kakashi, having his own special front row seats to the Konoha politics and rumor mill + yondaime's student + experience with facing the worst of it bc of his dad, giving them some sort of speech about scapegoats and politics and the soul crushing realities of systematic oppression and blame

It's a learning experience.

[gachagon]

I don't think Kaiser and Ness would be good together

Which is why i think about their relationship constantly despite that, i love these freaky little soccer dudes and their obsessive codependency

If there's one ship in bllk that I absolutely adore the content for and think about constantly besides Kunigiri, it's Kainess. And it's not because I think "Oh they'd be such a wonderful couple" or "They look good together", this is one of those ships where if they ever got together I feel like they'd actively make each other worse because they have so much internal stuff to work on alone first, you know? And just thinking about that potential train wreck of a relationship is enough to keep me entertained for weeks on end.

I've said before that Kaiser and Ness are a Bachira and Isagi parallel in that they show the toxic bad sides of a codependent relationship, but I think there's more to it than that. Like Kaiser and Ness are reliant on each other for both ego and attention, but they're also both deeply lonely people at the end of the day. Even in the scenes where it's just the two of them, they never let up the act of trying to surpass everyone and be at the top.

They have no silly banter or back and forth, even in this panel Ness looks more like Kaiser's personal servant than his friend or partner.

Where as everyone else in the Blue Lock compound has some healthy way of destressing after a match, these two weirdos (affectionate) sit in dark rooms and watch the same matches over and over again while plotting like saturday morning cartoon villains on what to do next game. I mean, even Itoshi Rin has a destress activity he does that's NOT soccer related that helps him not morph into some soccer obsessed monolouging freak, so to see these guys just constantly always planning and thinking and practicing it really puts into perspective how much of the time that they spend together is them not having a fun time casually. And if you compare what they do on their down time with what the other "partners" in Blue Lock do, this difference becomes even more apparent.

And I don't know, I find that to be a really interesting aspect of their relationship just because even though they are so clearly missing all of the key elements meant to make a healthy partnership, it still works on the field anyways because they're both equally obsessed with the same thing. Kaiser loves football and wants to be the best. Ness want's to see Kaiser become the best because he loves football. Their devotion to the game drives them closer to one another, but it's clear only one side holds any real "affection" for the other directly outside of the game.

Now, I do NOT think Kaiser hates Ness which I think people assume if you say "Kaiser doesn't hold a lot of empathy for Ness, or cares for him" that it translates to "Kaiser hates him".

I think Kaiser keeps Ness around because deep down he knows that at the end of the day the only person who would be willing to follow him even if he couldn't become the worlds best is Ness. And I think that's because Ness loves soccer in a different way than Kaiser does. To Ness, soccer is a really magical sport and one where amazing things can happen. And Kaiser is the only character who has done the most insane feats in the manga so far. Kaiser does things on the field that seem impossible until he pulls it off, which is the whole crux of his ego anyways: Making the impossible, Possible.

So as long as Kaiser plays that way and does all of the amazing things he's been doing, Ness would follow him literally anywhere because that's what drives him.

But Kaiser is different, it's clear that to him soccer/football is not something that is grounded in the fantastical, but something that's tangible and real to him. He takes it seriously even if he goes about it in the most dramatic and campy way possible. Looking at old chapters of Blue Lock when Kaiser was first introduced is so interesting to me because I forgot about Kaiser's whole "king" attitude where he pretty much talks and acts like some nobleman with a crown and scepter.

He even makes Ness "bow" to others or makes Ness physically lower than him like a king does with some peasant. You could chalk it up to him making Ness "apologize" in the Japanese way by also bowing, but I don't think that's why he does it just because his entire character is just so "king" coded.

It's worth noting that he also makes Ness "bow" whenever Ness seems to lose any kind of faith in them winning. Which is why I don't think the above two times was him making Ness apologize, but that its something he does to ground himself or make Ness fall more in line with how he's thinking at the moment. Notice how he seems to only do it when Ness isn't sticking to the right "script" or seems to show the wrong reaction openly etc.

But anyways, Kaiser and Ness love soccer but they don't love it for the same reasons and that is what ultimately conflicts with their relationship in the end. That, and they've both got their own issues to work out.

I feel like if they did ever get together, it just wouldn't work because in order for it to work, Kaiser has to first realize that he can still be an amazing player and have people regard him as the best without obsessing over where he sits in the rankings. That he can perform things nobody else can and never will and that is the thing that will separate him from the rest of the crop, not a trophy saying "Number 1" on it.

Maybe before when they first met things could've worked out well, but even still I think Kaiser was dead set on his goals of becoming number 1 long before he ever met Ness. We will definitely get to see the extent of that next week for sure I hope, when we learn more about Kaiser's past.

[the-leegend-99]

There's a reason this site sucks and is so profoundly hateable sometimes.

The reason is that since it's the nerd site (beaten out only by Reddit bc its r/topic function allows people to geek out to the max in one specific subject and build forums), where people dedicate essay-length blog posts to contrast (or compound) each other's interpretation of your favorite fictional characters through the most minute lore analysis possible, going "um actually" with all the casualness allowed by such a free reblog feature. And where is it used most of all? Why, to explain away absurdly mediocre or outright bad stuff like the Star Wars Prequels into being "Secretly Good™️" because let's face it, the alienation of living and working into capitalist society has stunted most of us (mostly us Westerners who get to enjoy the full breadth of consumerism) into needing to preserve their childhood security blankets. Of course, sometimes it's not that. Sometimes it's media analysis that wants to have a point and is actually done with more of a grain of salts. But most times, it is that. And sometimes it's cute, most times it doesn't involve the usual BS of manchild fannish behavior as Reddit does (probably bc there's a lot less cishet men).

But then some people here will apply that same mentality and behavior of politics.

And no, you just can't "um actually" your way of rightly being called a genocide and fascism enabler for supporting Kamala Harris and Tim Walz. Applying character arcs and lore to reality is brainrot. Yes, friend, I know that their hands are tied by the system. They made the choice to try and become top dog in it, nobody was expecting them not to comply in its basest crimes against humanity. But then you twist yourselves into hoops trying to rationalize the crumbs they throw at us to keep us content and not threaten their power, or better yet the system of exploitation they profit from, into actual progress. You try to rationalize them into being "Secretly Good™️" when they are the fullest representation of the banality of evil.

Sure, in doing so, you show more argumentative capabilities than Taylor Swift fans, but let's face it, it's not much of a compliment. All those Swifties, Beehives, Lil Nas X or Charli xcx fans who haven't taken their favorite celeb/artist to task for supporting the genocide, they cheer for these genocidal criminals because they've got far less awareness, and superficial diversity appeals to them. I'm not gonna go into who's more starved for crumbs from the master's table between them and you because it's not useful to this dissection. The actual difference is that they've formed a parasocial relationship with the *person*, with the celebrity, while you've formed a parasocial relationship with the *story*.

And you have to hammer the story into making sense, into being good, don't you? Because deep down, you're more aware. Deep down, you know it's wrong, you know that what's happening is wrong, bur you don't want to bring yourself to believe they've been stringing you along, asking you to be an accomplice. You want to explain your way out of letting this realization settle in, because if it does, then you are an accomplice.

Well you are, until you start doing something about it in the real world. Until you join protests, until you join working-class, anti-capitalist, anti-Zionist organizations fighting to overturn this system and build a better one instead.

And sure, that's a big jump, out of the realm of "permissibility", of "respectability", and it's scary. But maturity is having the courage to do the things that scare you the most, because you've analyzed them and realized that they're the ones that bring about the most material good for you and everybody. And everybody can reach that maturity. You, too, can be brave.