#and both the beginning and bridge of “If I Can't Love Her”

[notmoreflippingelves]

I'm just saying that it was real mistake on the Elena of Avalor production team's part to tell the world (i.e. me) that THAT scene in the series finale was explicitly visually and thematically modeled off the end of Beauty and Beast (1991). Because what on earth am I, an English major, to do with that information except want to make an infinite number of Esteban Flores graphics featuring lyrics and lines from various incarnations of Disney's Beauty and the Beast (especially the Broadway show)? And this is a real problem considering that I am very, very not good at Photoshop.

[bimb0fy]

perfect girlfriend; monkey d luffy

pairings; monkey d luffy x shank!reader

warning(s); mentions of scars, kinda suggestive at the end.

summary; luffy always had your name in his mouth, his girlfriend this! his girlfriend that! the crew never knew if you had actually existed considering the fact that your name didn't ring any bells or that well, they haven't met you yet. when luffy proposed a visit they all agreed to put an end to this little charade.

word count: 1,071 words

ᵐᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡⁱˢᵗ!! | ⁿᵃᵛⁱᵍᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ!!

— Luffy smiled as he ran over the deck, perfecting everything that looked slightly unpleasing. He hadn't seen you in months, going back to his old village meant seeing you again and he wanted it to be perfect. You both kept in touch by sending letters and after a while, ended up buying phones to reach each other faster.

Nami sat on a crate, her legs crossed as Sanji and Zoro stood beside her. Ussop was attempting to stop Luffy from falling overboard. She looked over at the two boys who rolled their eyes. "Not one bit huh?" Nami asked the two who nodded.

Sanji had faith in the beginning, believing the boy since well, he has a heart of gold, but after a while of hearing stories that sound like tales out of a naive boys mouth is well, unbelievable. Yes, it was possible for him to have a girlfriend, yet she can't be great in everything.

She can't be a fantastic with swords and a genius in the medical field, she can't be the best cook, better then Sanji Luffy might say, and have a hand for crafts. Maybe he was simply overcompensating about his love.

"Luffy, the ship looks great, I'm sure your girl will love it." Sanji smiled at the boy as both Nami and Zoro let out stiffled laughs.

"Whats so funny?" Luffy asked the group who looked at eachother. Luffy grew more concerned as he took his hat off, sliding them onto his shoulders.

"It's just that we uh." Nami started as she tried to figure out a way to frame it in a decent way.

"We don't think she exists." Zoro answered as Nami turned to the boy, her eyes wide as he shrugged. "What, it's better then lying."

"Y/n is real, why don't you guys believe me?" Luffy asked the crew who stayed quiet. He looked among them as he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "She's real, shes a pirate too, well, was a pirate."

"Yeah, and a doctor, and a cook, and a writer. She seems perfect, no one is." Zoro looked at the boy who scoffed.

"Well, she is, and look, we're here so you'll see for yourself!" Luffy said as he ran towards the front. Nami sighed as she stopped the ship, Luffy instantly jumping down, running towards a trap door. He opened it, jumping down for the group to follow him.

They were placed in an old basement, filled with materials and a section with belongings. "What is this place, it's so, rusty." Sanji said as he pinched his nose due to the horrid smell of fish guts.

"It's my home, well, was my home." Luffy smiled at the group as he walked over to his old bed, he opened a chest, taking out a satchel with his old belongings before climbing back up. "C'mon, I got my stuff, let's go meet Y/n!"

"Yeah, cause that's totally not stalling." Nami said as she climbed out, helping Zoro up as she ran after the boy who ran towards a bar.

"Luffy! My god we missed you!" The bartender smiled at the boy who hugged her. He turned back to his crew, looking around for another person.

"Hey Makino I got the broom." You said as you entered the room, you looked up to find Luffy who stood in shock. You dropped the broom as you ran towards the boy, jumping at him as he caught you, spinning you around.

You kissed his lips as he smiled, he set you down, wrapping his arms around you as he turned back to his crew who stood shocked. "Wait, she's actually real?" Zoro asked as he turned to Nami. She shrugged as he turned back to you.

"Guys, this is my very real girlfriend, Y/n." Luffy introduced you as you laughed. You waved at the group who waved back, Sanji with a huge grin plastered on his face.

"What a nice young lady you are-." Sanji's sentence was cut off by Luffy who had punched the boy, you covered your mouth before turning back to Luffy who looked serious.

"Luffy!" You yelled as he turned back to you, his expression softening.

"What?" He answered as you fliched his hat, he smiled as he held onto it, kissing your cheek before carrying you up, spinning you around one more time.

"Cmon now, I wanna show you my ship!" Luffy smiled as he held your hand, running towards the dock where the going merry happened to be. He skipped up the ramp as you looked in awe at the ship.

Luffy leaned onto the railings, smiling at the girl who stood on shock. "This is your ship? This is yours?" You asked the boy who nodded. He seemed proud of himself, you knew he had a ship but never expected a huge ship with an actual flag.

"C'mon, I'll show you my room, our room." Luffy smiled at the girl who scrunched her face in confusion. Luffy jumped down, holding your hand as he stared into your eyes. "Y/n, I want you to join my crew, we need someone like you, you know what you're doing, your perfect, your kind and smart."

"I left that life behind." You sighed as he looked away, you could tell her was upset. You hated being apart, he hated it more. Luffy was always an affectionate person, being away from his loved one hurt more then anyone could ever imagine. "I suppose you do need help to find the one piece."

Luffys face brightened up as he looked at you, smiling before carrying you up to the ship. You giggled as he set you down in the Captains quarters. The place was surrounded in pictures and souvenirs from adventures they had gone through. A desk filled with books and paper, probably stories written by him. You turned to the bed that seemed big enough for two people.

"You planned this, didn't you?" You turned to the boy who smiled, raising his eyebrows. You laughed before setting down on the bed. "I'll go get lunch ready?"

"No need, Sanji 'll do it." He smirked as he placed his hands on your waist, you smiled as you looked back at the boy, he traced your scar on your left cheek with his fingertips in such a loving way. "Now, let me show you how much I missed you my love."

[mononijikayu]

immortal sukuna who — in your third life (2).

immortal sukuna masterlist

immortal sukuna who doesn’t know how to get close to you after all these lifetimes apart.

immortal sukuna who stands silently under the cherry blossoms, their petals falling like the years that have passed between you.

immortal sukuna who hadn’t seen you in a hundred years, and once more, he is till forced to wait.

immortal sukuna knew that it cannot be, not right now. for you were a married woman, a happy one at that. and it was not with him. not in this life.

immortal sukuna who keeps thinking about how he wants to see you again at court, but you were always away if your husband was not there to keep you company.

immortal sukuna who on days you were there at all, could not keep his eyes off you at any moment.

immortal sukuna who even if you are no longer his to have keeps on loving you from afar.

immortal sukuna who hates how the space between you feels vast, even though your bodies are but a few steps apart.

immortal sukuna who he can sense it: the bond that once held you two together has been severed. you belong to someone else now.

immortal sukuna who still wants to be close to you, who aches to bridge the gap between your worlds, watches as you smile, but not for him.

immortal sukuna who with his immortal heart, yearns to for his heart to beat warmly by your side again.

immortal sukuna wonders how he could do it, for you are no longer the person you were, and he is no longer the man you loved.

immortal sukuna who quickly realized that like before you adored the wonder of prose and poems.

immortal sukuna who remembers the tender way your fingers traced the lines of forgotten texts in the temple gardens.

immortal sukuna remembers the way your eyes lit up when you found a new verse to cherish. it was something simple, something human. so he began to write.

"perhaps...." immortal sukuna murmured to himself one night beneath the moonlit sky, "if i give her what she loves, she'll allow me near once more."

immortal sukuna who now spends nights in his quiet temple chamber, penning poems with the hope that they might find their way to you.

immortal sukuna who knows that his words are filled with longing, with the memories of a time when you were both lost in each other’s worlds.

immortal sukuna who writes about the heartache of a god aching from eternity, the weight of time, and how not even immortality could save him from the pain of losing his beloved.

one day, as your lord husband is away serving the emperor, immortal sukuna approaches your garden. you are seated on a bench, the warm afternoon sun casting light upon your face. you look so peaceful, so distant from the life you once shared with him.

immortal sukuna hesitates, unsure of how to begin, but then he speaks, his voice low and almost hesitant. "i wrote this... for you."

you glance up, startled, but you accept the folded piece of parchment immortal sukuna offers.

"i know what it is like to be....lonely." sukuna continues, watching for any sign of recognition in your eyes. "i thought... perhaps this might reach you with some solace, my lady."

you unfold the poem slowly, reading the words immortal sukuna has labored over for so long. his heart races as he watches your reaction, every moment stretched into eternity.

immortal sukuna who still can't stop wanting you, who doesn’t know if his poems will ever be enough to close the chasm between you, stands silently.

immortal sukuna doesn't expect forgiveness for the past. he doesn’t expect love. but maybe, just maybe, he can still offer you something — even if it’s only the words he writes in the quiet of night.

"i don't expect anything in return, my lady." immortal sukuna whispers, his voice barely audible. "i just wanted to give you something that might make you....smile. at least."

for the first time in forever, you smiled softly, but it's a smile for the poem, not for immortal sukuna. and yet, he hopes it is for him. even if that's a lie.

"thank you, lord general." you whisper to him in the most tender voice. "i....i appreciate your kindness towards me. this is the first time i had ever received such a thing."

immortal sukuna's brows furrowed. "does your lord husband not do such a thing for you, my lady?"

you giggle and then become somber. "i may love my husband, my lord general....but he is a serious man. he is not much a man for prose."

immortal sukuna does not know what to say. but all those times when you both would sit together in your lives together, he had always made sure warm, loving words got to you — from him to you.

immortal sukuna who feels the pain of it all, knowing that you love someone else, stands there, watching the way your eyes trace the lines of his poem.

immortal sukuna who can’t help but wonder if the man you married truly knows the depth of your heart, the way your soul craves more than what mere words or fleeting moments can provide.

immortal sukuna who thinks that the thought eats at him, knowing that your husband could not give you all the universe — not the way sukuna wishes he could, with every star and whisper of the wind built from the love he still holds for you. a love he could never fully describe.

immortal sukuna who shifts slightly, the ache in his chest a familiar companion by now, smiles at you, but it is a smile tinged with centuries of regret and longing.

"then, my lady..." immortal sukuna's voice is soft, almost a murmur, "let me write you more poems... if you should like them."

you look up at immortal sukuna, surprise flickering in your eyes. the tension between you softens just a little.

as though for a moment, you allow yourself to forget the passage of time, the life you have now, the life immortal sukuna no longer belongs to. you say nothing at first, but he sees something — a small glimmer of acceptance.

"would that please you?" immortal sukuna asks, his voice filled with a quiet yearning he can no longer hide. "even if it's all i can offer, i would give you the world in words if it meant you’d smile for me again."

immortal sukuna who waits in silence, wondering if his words can still reach you, if the poems he writes could ever bridge the unbridgeable.

immortal sukuna who knows you belong to another, yet some part of him clings to the hope that maybe, just maybe, you will welcome the small pieces of himself that he is able to give.

you finally nod and then smiled softly. but then you looked away from sukuna. your focus returned to the poems.

and though it is a small gesture, it is enough to keep immortal sukuna's heart from shattering completely.

immortal sukuna who hides the storm of emotions behind that immortal smile, vows to write you more, even if every word reminds him of what he’s lost — and what he can never have again.

[seoltzuki]

Sharing Is Caring (she doesn’t care)

a scrapped work of mine

Sana x afab reader

suggestive

As you busily prepare dinner, approaching footsteps catch your attention.

"I didn't even hear you come in," you remark, spinning around to meet her gaze.

With a serene expression, she settles gracefully onto the marble counter, fixing her eyes on you. Her hair falls delicately around her face, framing it with effortless beauty. You observe her chest rising and falling at an impossibly slow pace, marveling at her calm demeanor despite her hectic day.

Dropping her purse to the floor, she tilts her head slightly, prompting a frown to crease your brow as you contemplate what might have caused her reaction.

“How did your fitting go?” you inquire, resuming the task of slicing tomatoes. She scoffs, sliding off the counter to remove her coat.

“How did your date go, y/n?” she asks nonchalantly, deftly finding the zipper of her dress to slip it down her legs.

You release a sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Sana, why does this bother you so much? I’ve reassured you countless times that my work with Wendy is purely professional. Can’t you trust me?” you question, pushing the tomatoes into the pan.

Sana steps out of the kitchen for a brief moment and then reappears, settling back onto her spot on the counter, now draped in a dressing gown.

"Y/n, I never said I didn't trust you. It's jus—"

"If you trust me, then why are you making such a big deal out of it!?" you interject, your tone escalating.

Her sigh is audible as she jumps off the counter. "It's just... I've seen the way she looks at you... And I dislike it."

You scoff and begin chopping the mushrooms with more force.

"Well, I've seen the way Miyeon looks at you, and I don't complain," you retort.

She lets out a hearty laugh and envelops you in a hug from behind, wrapping her arms around your waist.

"Miyeon is with her boyfriend, darling. She can't do anything, whereas Wendy... Well, she doesn't have someone to love and cherish like Miyeon and I do," she explains, nuzzling your hair and planting a small kiss behind your ear.

You relax slightly under her touch, but a lingering irritation remains over her jealousy regarding Wendy's attention and the time you spend with her.

"Still... You know she won't try anything with me, Sana. Wendy knows what's going to happen to her if she makes a move on me... She'll have to face the Sana Minatozaki. There's nothing to worry about, love," you reassure her.

She sighs, a soft hum escaping her lips as she pulls your body even closer to hers, clearly pleased at the mention of her name. She trails her hands up and down your sides while planting gentle kisses on the side of your neck. You release the knife, leaning into her touch.

"I just," she begins, slipping a hand under your shirt to grasp your breast through your bra, while the other one trails down your inner thigh.

"Don't want to share you..." She whispers, her hot breath caressing your ear. You sigh, tilting your head to the side to grant her more access to your neck. With a gentle push, she presses you further, ensnaring you against the counter with her embrace.

She leaves open-mouthed kisses trailing up your neck before nibbling on your earlobe. A small whimper escapes your lips, and you swiftly turn around, pressing your lips against hers. Sana moans softly into your mouth, her hands sliding down to squeeze your ass. You whine and gently brush your tongue against her lower lip, your desire for more evident. Sana responds eagerly, parting her lips to deepen the kiss, lost in the heat of the moment.

She pulls back slightly, and together, you both take a deep breath. You can't help but notice the effect the kiss had on Sana – her lips are swollen, and her cheeks are flushed with a rosy hue. A giggle escapes your lips as you reach for her robe, swiftly removing it.

"I think seeing Wendy more often could be fun," you suggest, pulling her closer to you by the waistband of her panties.

She chuckles and slides her hands under your buttocks, lifting you onto the counter.

"I don't think it would be a good idea, my angel" she murmurs, her breath warm against your lips.

Sana teasingly sticks the tip of her tongue out, delicately licking your lower lip, all the while maintaining eye contact with you.

"Because, you're mine."

[overtail]

Hey!! Loved your last Zuko smut it was so great! Could you please make another smut where zuko joins gaang but he isn’t fully trusted yet by everyone (except from reader who saw good in him from the beginning) so every night one person keeps an eye on him and when it was reader’s turn thing turned out spicy

I would like female reader who is flirty and teasing because she alert always found him attractive

It’s okay if you don’t want to write this I just saw you asked for requests

Thank you in advance<3

THANK U FOR REQUESTING MUAH MUAH

anyways id love to do that for you hehe :3

sorry if it took a while i was sick when i got the request 😔

got silly while writing this

...

I know you - Zuko x Reader🔞

Summary: She was from the fire nation, he was the heir of it. She grew up thrown to the side, not ever accepting her true powers. When her and the Gaang take in Zuko so he can teach Aang firebending, she trusts him more than the others.

Trigger Warning: NSFW, flirting, arguing, slight bottom Zuko, Semi-public sex, both reader and zuko are awkward turtle ducks

Reader Info: Firebender who can't bend, Female intended, headstrong, flirty

...

"I really don't want to supervise Zuko tonight." Sokka grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Ever since Zuko saved Aang and his friends from 'Combustion Man' or better known as 'Sparky Sparky Boom Man', nobody trusted him to sleep around them without supervision. Well, except (Y/N), but they thought she had some bias since he was fire nation.

Nobody had a single drop of respect for him. Even though he insisted that he, 'was good now', everyone believed he was a spy.

But nobody could blame them.

"I need my beauty sleep." Sokka mimicked a beauty guru as his hands framed his face. "The ladies appreciate a pretty boy."

Katara groaned, rolling her eyes. "It's your turn, Sokka." She crossed her arms, pursing her lips at him. "No one else is gonna-"

"I'll do it!" A voice quickly interrupted. Everyone turned to look at (Y/N), who was standing stiffly. She smiled awkwardly. She pinched at the hem of her pants, stepping forward. "I don't mind doing it.."

Sokka crossed his arms, raising a brow at (Y/N). Everyone was aware of the little 'crush' she had on Zuko. I mean, he was cute, he was angsty, and he was strong. Extremely short, but strong. She always took the chance to tease him.

"I mean, if you insist." Sokka walked away towards his tent, sighing softly in happiness. Rest was one of his most appreciated things in life - behind stuffing his face in food. Maybe it was because he liked the feeling of waking up in the morning, or the interesting dreams he had at night.

No one knew.

"Thanks, Sokka!" She said with a smile waving goodbye to him. "I-I mean, I'll do the job.."

As everyone headed off to their respective sleeping spots, (Y/N) listened to the quiet chirping of the crickets, looking up at the night sky as the stars glimmered. She considered whether or not she should g into Zuko's tent to check up on him (more like poke fun at him.)

While she ended an ear to the sound of the crackling flames coming from. the vampire, she heard the sound of shuffling coming from her left. (Y/N) glanced to the side, seeing Zuko climbing out from the flaps of his tent.

"Oh. Hi." He said awkwardly, holding his hand up in place of a wave. "What are you doing out here?" He questioned, wondering where Sokka was. Zuko was aware of the rotation for their watch party; Aang, Katara, Sokka, and then (Y/N). Toph didn't have the responsibility of watching Zuko since her feet were still injured from when he jumpscared him that night.

"Watching you." (Y/N) tried to play it cool, but a pool of desire filled her heart as she watched Zuko's dark hair fall in front of his amber eyes. He looked so pretty as the firelight shone on his pale skin. She started to grow pink under his gaze.

"Isn't it Sokka's turn?" Zuko stretched, his shirt lifting up to expose his stomach. (Y/N)'s eyes widened at the sight.

"Yeah, but he begged me to take his turn," She lied, rubbing the back of her neck. "he's awfully tired."

Zuko nodded. He began to walk over to the log (Y/N) was sat on. (Y/N) watched as he sat next to her, his pale fingers grazing the hard bark of the seat. It was extremely cold in the area, especially since they were in a semi-cave. After the failed invasion at the palace, they had begun to stay at the western air temple. The infrastructure was odd - upside building lining the roofs of the cave.

"I'm sure you won't mind hangin' out with me." She elbowed him, smirking. "Us being fire nation and all."

Zuko turned to look at her, a brown raised in confusion. "You're from the fire nation?" He asked, tilting his head. It was as if he was inspecting her. "You don't seem like it."

(Y/N) shrugged, glancing up at him. "Yeah. I mean, my family was banished when I was pretty young. But I'm still fire nation." She sighed, resting her chin on her hand, Her elbow dug into the skin of her knee, but she didn't mind. "Do you know Gender Jin?" She asked.

With a nod, Zuko said, "Yeah, why?"

Genera. Jin had been banished from the fire nation twelve years ago, whe Zuko was four. He had committed treason against Azulon, Zuko's grandfather, for having a child with a waterbender. Apparently, he was also accused of planning attacks on the fire nation with the northern water tribe during this time. It was never confirmed, but the speculation was brought up a whole lot.

"That's my Dad." (Y/N) said, sighing softly, Zuko let out a small 'oh', surprised at this.

"Are you-"

"The infamous forbidden child? Yep. Yes-sir-ee." (Y/N) interjected. She already knew what he was going to say. The word was passed around almost the whole world when it happened, since the fire nations grasp infiltrated every nation in some manner. She knew what her name was. She knew what people thought of her.

"The rumors of me being a firebender and a water bender aren't true." Zuko looked at her, surprised that she knew this. "I'm just a plain ole' firebender."

There was an awkward silence between the two. There was not much to say, at least off the top of their heads.

(Y/N) perked up, looking over at Zuko. "Do you think you could teach me some tricks?" She said excitedly. Zuko was caught of guard by this.

"Tricks? What do you mean?" He asked, wanting her to elaborate. He was looking for practice with a firebender lately, so this might be fun.

"Like, could you teach me?" (Y/N) looked away with an embarrassed face. Her father never told her firebending; he wanted her to live a normal life as a kid.

"You mean you don't know anything?" Zuko laughed in disbelief. "Anything at all?"

"Yeah.." (Y/N) grumbled, pursing her lips slightly. "I'm ashamed of it - I can admit it. But I wouldn't mind if you taught me some things." She wiggled her brows, smirking slightly as she glanced at him. Zuko flattened his lips.

"I mean, I don't have much to do." Zuko pushed off of the seat, leaning forward and standing up fully. He glanced down at (Y/N). He reached his hand out, offering it to her. "Come on."

...

They walked into a small clearing, the cold night wind blowing their hair back and forth. They had climbed above the cliff the western air temple hung from, where a large valley rested.

Zuko had removed the robe that hung over his clothes. His arms were exposed, small goosebumps lining his arms.

(Y/N)'s eyes graced his body, her face growing red from both the cold air and his body.

"Already undressing?" She teased, crossing her arms and grinning. "Take me out to dinner first."

Zuko glanced over to her, a frown appearing on his face. "W-what?" He said, shifting uncomfortably.

"I mean, I get that I'm the prettiest girl here - no offense to Katara." (Y/N) walked over, smirking. "but you barely know me Prince Zuko." She poked him on the chest jokingly. (Y/N) leaned on her legs her hip popping out.

Zuko huffed out a fiery breath (no pun intended), looking to the side. "Do you want to learn or not?"

(Y/N)'s eyes widened. She stepped back, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, yeah." She shook her arms nervously, stepping back and getting into a fighting stance.

"Fire bending is all about- what are you doing?" Zuko stopped mid sentence, looking at (Y/N).

"Uhm, getting into a stance?" She said awkwardly, looking to the ground.

"No, no. You're to open." Zuko stepped forward. He grabbed her wrists, pulling them down in front of her chest. "You're leaving your body open to hits." He walked behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders.

She shivered, the feeling of his fingers gracing her skin. (Y/N) leaned into the touch, his palms touching the lower part of her shoulders. "You opponents have the opportunity to knock you to the ground." Zuko placed his right foot on the inside of her legs. The toe of his shoe pressed against the heel of her foot, pushing it slightly.

"You want to be low.." He whispered into her neck, pushing her shoulders down so she was more level to the ground.

Was he doing this on purpose? (Y/N)'s heartbeat was audible in her ears, but she wasn't the only one who's blood was pumping from this interaction.

As she moved down her backside rubbed against Zuko's crotch lightly. He let out a small gasp, his eye twitching at the feeling.

(Y/N) smirked at the sound, realizing the affect she had on Zuko. What could she do with this? A lonely teenage boy? She was sure he wouldn't mind.

"Ope, sorry Zuko." She said slyly. She bent her knees even more, her ass pushing onto Zuko's growing erection.

Zuko shifted back uncomfortably, their contact breaking.

(Y/N) turned around, standing up fully. "Oh c'mon Zuko, i need you to show me how to do this." She smirked, her foot digging into the grass.

"I know what you're doing." Zuko said, his face growing red under the pale moonlight. His eyes scanned her, and unimpressed looked overcoming him.

"What am I doing?" She teased, a finger pressing onto Zuko's chest. "Tell me."

Zuko's face held a look of frustration. His eyes met hers, his eyebrows furrowing together. There was a hot tension between the two of them, healing the goosebumps on their skin from the cold night air.

The digit placed on his chest soon turned into (Y/N)'s entire hand. She took a step closer to him, causing Zuko to let out a shaky breath.

Even with her confidant pseudo, (Y/N)'s stomach was filled with a nervous sickness. She had no idea what she was doing - letting her desire lead her.

"You're trying to turn me on." Zuko muttered, keeping his voice low.

"It's working though, isn't it?" (Y/N) barked back.

Zuko's face flushed slightly, clearly caught off guard by your boldness. "I assure you, that wasn't my intention. Now if you'll excuse me..."

"No. Zuko, come on.." She said, a shaky breath huffing from my red nose. "Were so alike."

Zuko hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering between you and the ground. "How so?"

"Were both refugees from a country that thrived on evil." Her arm traveled from his chest to his arm. (Y/N) watched as he flinched slightly. Her eyes made contact with his. "And you know what Sokka says about us behind our backs."

Zuko swallowed hard, his heart racing as he felt your touch. He knew what Sokka thought of them - that they were both damaged goods from a twisted world. Despite the danger and uncertainty, there was something undeniably compelling about this connection.

"I like you Zuko." She said, smiling softly. Her seductive shell cracked, shower her sweetness hidden inside.

Zuko looked into her eyes, feeling a familiar pain in his heart. Here was someone else who knew what it was like to be an outcast, to carry the burden of a nation's sins. "I like you too," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"I trust you, too." She sighed, squeezing his arm gently. "They didn't trust me either at first."

Zuko's heart skipped a beat at her words. Trust was a rare and precious thing in their world, where betrayal lurked around every corner. But she was offering it to him freely, without judgment or fear. "Thank you," he breathed out softly.

She leaned forward, placing a soft peck on Zuko's lips. A warm feeling flooded through their bodies, the world around them feeling almost unrecognizable as they sat in the moment.

Zuko froze for a moment, shocked by the unexpected kiss. But as he felt her lips on his, he found himself responding, leaning in to deepen the kiss. The warmth spread through him, filling the cold void that had been there for so long.

She grabbed his face, bringing him down to kiss Zuko deeply. (Y/N) let out a huff from her nose, letting her fingers comb through Zuko's dark hair.

Zuko's hands found their way to her waist, pulling (Y/N) closer as he kissed her back with all the pent-up longing and desire that had been building inside him for so long.

As the kiss deepened, Zuko felt a fire ignite within him, burning away the coldness and isolation that had defined his life for so long. He wrapped his arms around (Y/N), pulling her closer still as he explored her mouth with his tongue, tasting her sweetness.

As she broke away from the kiss, their breaths mingled in the air between them. Zuko felt his heart racing, a wild and unfamiliar sensation.

Zuko looked into her eyes, seeing a reflection of his own turmoil and desire. He couldn't believe what was happening, but he didn't want it to stop. His hands roamed down her back, pulling her even closer as he whispered, "I need you."

"Show me." She whispered, leaning up to kiss him again.

Zuko dragged her onto the grass with him, never breaking the kiss.

Zuko pulled her onto his lap, cradling her body against his as he deepened the kiss once more. His hands trailed down (Y/N)'s sides, pushing up her shirt to reveal her soft skin beneath.

Feeling emboldened by her invitation and his own burning need, Zuko slid his hands underneath her shirt, tracing circles on her bare back. His lips moved hungrily against hers as he lost himself in the sensation of her skin against his fingertips.

Zuko's hands continued their exploration, moving lower to grasp her hips as he pulled her even closer. He could feel the heat between her legs, and it fueled his desire even more.

With a groan, Zuko slipped his hand beneath her shorts, feeling the softness of her thighs and the wetness between them. He couldn't believe how much he wanted her, how badly he needed to be inside (Y/N).

"Shit, Zuko.." She said between heated kisses, fingers pulling at his soft hair.

Zuko growled against her lips as he continued to touch her, his other hand sliding up (Y/N)'s leg to knead at her ass cheek. He could feel himself growing hard against her leg and he knew he had to have her soon.

"This isn't how I expected this night to go." She played with Zuko, his lips connecting with the soft skin of her neck.

Zuko chuckled breathlessly, his lips trailing down her neck to nibble at her collarbone. "Neither did I," he admitted, his voice husky with desire.

"Is this how you practice back home?" (Y/N) said, her feet digging in the dirt behind Zuko.

Zuko laughed softly against her skin. "No," he replied, his voice still rough with lust. "But I think I'd like to make it a regular practice here."

(Y/N) moaned slightly when Zuko's hips bucked into hers. "Ill watch over you more often then."

Zuko's eyes darkened with desire as he heard her words, and he couldn't resist bucking his hips against hers a little harder. "I'd like that," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

As she pulled back a little, Zuko took the opportunity to stand up, his hands sliding up her back to grip your shoulders. He looked down at her with an intense gaze, his eyes full of the burning passion that had overtaken him. "Take me to your bed,"

"We can't. We'll wake the others." She smirked, grabbing onto Zuko's wrist.

A growl rumbled in Zuko's chest at the reminder of their surroundings. But he knew she was right. Reluctantly, he nodded. "Then we'll make do with this," he said, reaching down to scoop (Y/N) up in his arms.

Zuko's heart was racing as he carried you deep into the nearby forest, away from the edge of the cliff. "To a quiet spot," he replied, his voice low and gravelly with desire. "A place where we can be even more alone."

He came to a small clearing where the trees thinned out, revealing a bed of soft moss and leaves. Gently, he lowered (Y/N) down onto it, his hands lingering on her hips for a moment before he joined her, pressing his body against hers.

(Y/N) pulled down her shorts and underwear, the cold hair hitting her exposed sex.

"Just get on with it, Zuko." She groaned, rolling her eyes.

Zuko chuckled softly against your lips before pulling back slightly to give you a teasing grin. "Always so impatient," he teased as he slowly unbuttoned his pants, sliding down his pants along with his boxers. He sprang free, a bead of pre-cum on his tip.

"Spirits.." She whispered at the sight of him, how he was throbbing at the sight of her.

Zuko's gaze locked onto yours as he positioned himself between her legs, his hard length rubbing against her slick entrance. "You ready for me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You tell me."

With a groan, Zuko pushed forward, slowly entering (Y/N). Her tight heat enveloped him, and he fought the urge to slam all the way inside. Instead, he began to move in and out of her slowly, enjoying the sensation of being joined with her.

(Y/N)'s hands found their way to his chest, and she leaned into him, moaning softly. The feeling of being filled by him was indescribable, and as he picked up speed, driving deeper inside her with each thrust, she felt herself getting closer to the edge.

She could feel Zuko's muscles tensing as he neared his climax, his thrusts becoming more erratic and forceful. His other hand found its way to her clit, massaging it gently as he continued to pound into her. "I'm close."

"Already?" She teased, trying to maintain a sarcastic demeaner as she let out erratic moans.

With a chuckle, Zuko leaned down to kiss her again as he pulled almost all the way out of her before slamming back in. "You like that?" he asked breathlessly.

She screamed, her nails scratching at Zuko's back until white marks appeared - lighter than his skin.

Feeling her nails dig into his skin, Zuko lost control completely. With a primal growl, he pushed her down onto the ground and continued to pound into her, taking what he wanted with no regard for her comfort or pleasure.

He was like a rabid animal, like this was the thing he needed to live.

Her screams of pleasure and pain echoed through the forest as Zuko continued to take her roughly, losing himself in the sensation of being inside her. He could feel his release building, and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.

"Zuko!" She clenched around him, being pulled over the edge as she shook. Her orgasm washed over her, (Y/N)'s eyes clenching tightly.

Feeling her walls clenching around him, Zuko let out a guttural moan as he emptied himself inside her. His thrusts became erratic and forceful, his body shaking with the intensity of his orgasm.

Finally, Zuko's movements slowed down, and he collapsed beside her, panting heavily. His heartbeat slowly returned to normal as he nuzzled into her neck, still inside her. "That was... intense," he whispered against her skin.

"Ya think?" Her chest rose up and down as she still huffed. (Y/N) tried to catch her breath, but she was sweating from the intensity.

Zuko chuckled softly, feeling his cock twitch inside her. "I think," he said with a smirk. After a few moments, he pulled out of her and rolled onto his side, still panting heavily. "So... how do you feel?"

(Y/N) faked a deep thought for a moment, looking away from him. "Eh. It was fine." She smirked at him, causing Zuko to roll his eyes.

"So.. you were scratching at my back because you hated it so much?" He played, kissing her neck softly.

"For sure." She sighed, playing with his hair.

The two teens lay there, panting heavily as the moonlight illuminated their skin. Their bodies were tangled but not in a hurry to separate. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, their need for each other overruled everything. They could return in the morning, nobody would notice - right?

...

[torukmaktoskxawng]

Hey I was wondering if you could do an imagine with Neteyam with Navi reader. As the idea I was thinking you both sneak off and end up making out in a tree. Fluff but I wouldn’t mind it being a lil smut but I definitely would love to see fluff if you don’t mind❤️

(Gif not mine)

Pairing: AgedUp!Neteyam/AgedUp!Fem!Na'vi!Reader (oof, mouthful)

Warnings: fluff, aged-up characters, make-out session, heated stares, hinted nsfw, not filthy, honestly very vanilla but its a sweet vanilla lol.

Taglist: @neteyamsl0ver @mooniequeen

A/n: I hinted at both and I am so sorry this took so long. I'm getting better, I promise.

~~~~~~~~~

Honestly, it was to be expected.

The son of the Omatikaya's tsakarem and Toruk Makto, sneaking out with the daughter of Ninat, the best singer of her clan and one of the most beautiful Na'vi women of her generation. 

Truly, their children would be a match made by Eywa herself, and this is why no one should have been surprised to learn the two young Na'vi would sneak away from their families to be alone. Off they went, the moment their families had all fallen asleep, racing each other out into the forest, prancing over the glowing flora of their beautiful world.

Neteyam made a playful grab at your tail and you whipped around, laughing out of surprise, before half-heartedly shoving him away. He doesn't let you get far, grabbing the hand that you had pressed against his chest and keeping it there, his thumb tracing your skin while you could feel his heartbeat beneath your palm. You linger there for a moment, allowing him to captivate you with those yellow eyes, constantly staring into yours, barely blinking and never looking away. You let him think he's got you under his spell before you swiftly break away, running off with your laugh trailing behind you. 

Neteyam smirks and gives chase, following you up a large tree, full of bridge-sized branches intertwining with its neighbors. He chases you up until he has you pinned against the trunk, and this time you don't even try to escape. You let him enjoy the small victory as he plants a kiss on your cheek, then your neck, then your shoulder. 

He moves to kiss the other side of your face and neck, mumbling into your skin, "Will you sing for me, ma'yawntu?"

You exhale a quiet sigh at the feel of his lips softly brushing a sensitive spot on your neck, before starting a soft tune. Like your mother, you were a spectacular singer, and it was one of the many traits Neteyam loved about you, and it showed in his enthusiasm as his kisses turned more firm and earnest. They traveled across your collar and down both of your arms before traveling down to your stomach. You begin to squirm, anxious to get him exactly where you want him, your song briefly interrupted between soft gasps and whines until you can't take it anymore.

"Neteyam..."

"Hm?" He peers up at you, pausing his ministrations but keeping his lips on your skin, just below your belly button.

"Kiss me."

"Where?"

You giggle quietly, "My mouth."

You feel his lips smirk against your skin, "But how will I hear your song if I'm kissing you there?"

Your eyes roll and you use this angle to your advantage, gently kneeing Neteyam in the chest. He's startled out of a laugh and stands back up, accepting his fate as he threads both of his hands through the hair on the back of your neck, then leans down to capture you in a slow, tender kiss. You sigh through your nose and close your eyes, satisfied until you feel the need for more. Your hands rest on either side of his hip and you try your best to pull and press his pelvis against yours for some much-needed friction. 

He pulls away, breathless, his eyes screwed shut with restraint as if it pained him to stop. He breathed deeply, in and out, slowly trying to regain his posture as he playfully growled, "Not yet, ma'yawntu. I want to do this right."

You sigh and pause your attempt, knowing you haven't been able to convince him to go any further than making out. You love how courteous and respectful he was. As the future olo'eyktan, it's a commendable and much-needed trait to have, but sometimes it could also be a curse. Neteyam had always wanted to court you properly, in front of the whole clan where everyone could see you and your love, but had wanted to wait until you had both finished your Iknimaya. He had achieved an ikran the year prior, and your own trial just happened to be tomorrow. 

Leaning up to kiss his cheek, you decided you could afford to wait a little longer if it meant having Neteyam all to yourself very soon, "Until tomorrow then."

His eyes pierce yours with the kind of heat that makes your knees tremble, a fervent promise that makes your heart race and skin prickle. One look and he's already trying to test your own restraint and patience. You definitely couldn't wait until he was all yours. 

~~~~~~~~~

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS

[luveline]

I love the KBD universe 🩵🩵. It’s so soft and comforting. Idk how you always write such gentle slice of life moments that stay soft even when there’s moments of conflict.

I was rereading the series, and in one scene Steve asks reader if they wanna make out, but Avery comes in before they can. Can I request a scene where they do get to make out (nothing super spicy) and spend that time with each other? I know it’s got to be difficult with four kids.

kisses before dinner —you and Steve languish in some rare alone time. mom!reader, 1k

"Hello," you whisper.

He looks up in surprise, eyebrows lifted. That surprise quickly melds to a soft-boned happiness as you sit in his lap —he's splayed sideways on the armchair, and you have to sit sort of sideways on him to meet his eyes. 

"Everybody's sleeping," you say, brushing a stray strand of hair from his eyes as the TV light paints him a blur of multicolour. "Even Wren." 

He looks up. "How'd you do that?" 

You told him to relax for a bit before bath time. He must've gotten distracted by the TV, which he doesn't often get to watch lately, and so you hadn't really minded. Full time childcare is exhausting. It comes to something when you're nearly happy to go to work, though coming home every night is still what you wait for, and it's thanks to him that you can drive home in excitement.  

"I'm multi-talented." You nestle your way under his chin, his arms curling around you as though they have a job to do. Firm. Immediate. "Wren went down like a miracle. I only had to rub her back." 

"Avery?" Steve asks. 

Avery's under the weather, so you let her skip bath time and tucked her in, sending her to sleep with little more than a forehead kiss. Beth was similarly eager for bed, knocking out after half of a story, her hand insistently in yours. Dove, in contrast, took three times as long to settle, but was convinced by the pad of your pinky finger as it traced up and down the bridge of her nose. 

"Tactile creatures, your girls," you murmur. 

"Where do they get it from?" he asks as he begins to stroke a quarter circle into your back. "Tokyo Olympics called again. Team USA needs you on their roster." 

He's declaring you impressive for such a feat as tonight's solo bed time. "The answer's still no. I don't think anyone wants to see me in a leotard." 

"I do," he says, kissing the top of your head. His lips soft, his voice the same, he hugs you closer still. "I so do. You look nice in everything." 

You could fall asleep like this, in his arms, his lap, your face drifting down his chest as you curl into his warmth. There's nowhere else you'd rather be (besides possibly bed, but even then you'd need it to be with him). "Thanks, Steve." 

"You're welcome." 

The room is quiet. The house stirs and rain lashes the darkened windows every now and then with the indecisive winds, whistling through tree branches far away. You shiver at the sound and Steve sets your goosebumps right with bigger strokes of his hand, a familiar up and down pressed into your back. Pressure to distract the senses. 

"Thanks for doing bed time." 

You wave it away. It's nice to be appreciated, but in the face of everything he does you don't want any thank yous tonight. "I just wanted to spend some time with you." 

"Yeah?" he asks, sinking lower into the armchair, the majority of your weight following down onto his abdomen rather than his legs. 

"I really…" missed isn't the right word. You missed him while you were at work, and time spent with him and the girls is just as worthy and sweet as time alone, but that doesn't mean you can't want both. "I've been thinking about you." 

Steve doesn't flinch at your odd wording, the opposite. He knuckles trail loosely to the small of your back, a smugness to the curve of his lips as he smiles, and says, "I've been thinking about you." 

Steve usually looks handsome. You've seen him bedraggled, dishevelled, and exhausted, of course, but he puts a majesty into nearly everything he does. He can take a plate down from one of the kitchen cabinets or hike one of your sweethearts onto his hip and you'll remark to yourself about how pretty he looks. This isn't taking into consideration how attractive you find his heart (that list is endless —compassion, dedication, loyalty, etc). The stuff you love about Steve goes on and on and on.

You curl a hand behind his head and card through his hair, not sure what to say. His eyes meet yours. "They don't have a word for how much I love you, H." 

His voice rasps with a low pleasure, "I could think of a bunch for you. Only if you want. I'm smart like that." 

Your lips twitch. "Please," you say, giving his scalp a playful scratch. 

"Endlessly," he begins. "Eternally. Overflowingly." He leans forward to touch your noses together. "Fuck," —he laughs as he searches for another— "started so strong. Uh… infinitely. A whole fucking lot?" 

"Loads." 

You both laugh, the heat of the others breath like a phantom of a kiss between you. 

"Loads," he agrees. "Wickedly." 

"Deviously?" 

"Ambitiously. A shit ton." 

You kiss him gingerly, not worried he won't kiss back but wanting to stay in this moment for as long as you can. "Love you loads," you say against his lips. 

With your eyes closed you can't see his expression, but you can guess at what he's doing. Steve likely has his brows sewn together, a grimace on his lips that might suggest the opposite of what he's feeling. 

He acts like kissing you is the only thing that he could ever need, that this intermission is painful but absolutely necessary. "I love you," he says. He whispers your name, raising his hand to cup your cheek. His marriage finger rubs a mindless little shape into the soft skin under your eye. "I love you." 

You wrap your arms around his neck and hook him closer, smiling into a second and much less ginger kiss. 

[queers-gambit]

Alpine

prompt: in an effort to help your boyfriend with his trauma, you rescue a furry feline together - a white cat named, Alpine - who rescues you both in return.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!Widow!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 6.9k+

note: been seeing a lot of Alpine recently and got inspired.

second note: no, it's not comic / canon compliant so just have fun. author did some research but there's not a LOT written / known about Alpine, so, again, just have fun!

warnings: post Endgame, pre tfaws; cursing, Lord's name in vain, small angst, mostly hurt and comfort, Nick Fury calling reader a bitch playfully, Bucky's trauma responses, small spoilers, Dr. Raynor / therapy.

other works with Widow!reader and Bucky NOT necessary to read

read here: Damage Done

"Are you angry with me?"

"No."

"Disappointed? Annoyed? Frustrated?"

"No, doll."

"Then why won't you talk to me!?"

"Nothing to say."

You wiped a hand down your face, lifting it only to pinch the bridge of your nose. Your head shook to shake away your thoughts, sniffling emotion, sighing when you dropped your hand to slap against your thigh. "I'm really trying here, Bucky, I swear to you, I am. But I can't help if you don't talk to me," you softened your voice, beginning to understand this was a losing battle.

"I never said I needed help."

"You never have to ask me for help, Bucky, I just give it because I want to! Because I love you! That's part of being in a relationship!"

"Maybe I don't want it!" Your boyfriend snapped, rounding on you with unfiltered emotion in his eyes. The horrors swam in his baby blues, vivid memories he was unable to escape haunting him, terrorizing him; creating a shell of a man who could no longer hide his avid pain. "Did you ever think about that? Ever consider that I don't want your help because I don't need it?"

"Everyone needs help sometimes, Buck."

"No, not everyone - I'm not one of your pet projects, you don't get to treat me like a broken thing that needs fixed! I certainly don't need your pity - not yours."

"I don't pity you! Fuck's sake, Bucky, I love you and want to see you heal. I know you better than anyone - "

"You don't," he sneered, cutting you off. "You don't know me, not really, not as well as Steve - "

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Steve isn't here! He's not coming back!" You snapped, instantly regretting it when Bucky's eyes coated with glassy emotion he fought vehemently to keep down. "I-I'm sorry, that was - that was really mean of me and totally out of line," you apologized, both sighing deeply. "All right, look, let's just talk this out, please."

"There's nothing to say."

Your hip cocked, arms crossing, "She called me, you know."

"Who?"

"Dr. Raynor."

"Fuck's sake," he growled. "Why would she do that?"

"Maybe because today's session was, apparently, supposed to be a couples session. She thought I was refusing, called to say I was impeding on your progress and if I want to help you, I'd have to show up to your appointments. Which is really funny because you never told me about today, so I had no idea what the hell she was talking about - but that didn't stop her from tearing me a new asshole!"

He frowned, avoiding your eyes. "I didn't need a couples session. Not today, I just - I wanted today to focus on other shit."

"And I can respect that, but you're not doing yourself any favors by hiding shit from me. To get the best results from therapy, you have to actually do the work, and not just do what Dr. Raynor says, but actually listen to her advice - "

"I don't need you on my back about this, Raynor does that enough for you both," Bucky growled. "I do the fucking work - I'm the one in that room, I'm the one applying silly little rules to my life - "

"Obviously not if you didn't even tell me Raynor requested my attendance! You should've told me, and then you should've said you weren't ready! I would've respected that, but I can't do a Goddamn thing if you don't talk to me!"

His jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth, skin twitching and distinct muscles tightening. "Like I said, there's nothing to talk about," he practically spat, shaking his head at you before grabbing his sneakers from the closet.

You didn't mean to sound harsh, but demanded, "Where are you going? We're in the middle of a conversation."

"No, we're not, 'cause I'm ending it," he scoffed, sitting on the corner of your shared mattress, exchanged his shoes. "And I'm going for a run, need to clear my head."

You shook your head before leaving the bedroom, "Absolutely unbelievable."

Bucky left your shared apartment a few minutes later, somewhere you've only lived five months - the time it's been since Tony Stark, Iron Man, snapped the other half of living beings back into existence. He lost his life in return, the ultimate sacrifice, but he managed to reverse the damage Thanos created five years prior. Five months of living in this apartment without a lick of warmth, personal touch, or real sentiment; it being dreary, dark, and mostly empty. Hell, Bucky didn't even feel comfortable in bed, so he camped in the barren living room, giving visual to the way your relationship was beginning to fray, unravel, crack.

He didn't want anything personal in your apartment - thinking it was ridiculous to settle down after all you two have endured, witnessed, and fought for. You agreed to keep things at the bare minimum, only stocking what was necessary, knowing this was part of his healing process and didn't want to drum-up further anxiety. It made everything impersonal, boring, bland, and down right depressing - but it was a small accommodation you could provide your lover.

You hated the distance. Hated how alone Bucky felt after Steve. Hated how reclusive he became, the anger he projected. Hated how no matter what you did, you weren't enough - not this time. For years, you've loved him despite his flaws, his brainwashing, his trauma responses, but whatever he was enduring now was something you weren't equipped to handle. Didn't mean you weren't willing to try, but Bucky was the one pushing you away; thinking his demons were his sole responsibility, never letting you be the pillar that helped support him. God, you hated the distance.

You left the apartment, too. Nick Fury had employed you for creative, solo, high profile missions; wanting to utilize your Widow training, especially now that Natasha Romanoff was deceased. And you wanna know what? Bucky hadn't even asked about her, never tried to offer comfort, only quietly attending the funeral service you hosted with the remaining Avengers to give her a proper sendoff - despite there being no body. Bucky knew you and Nat were as thick as thieves, family without blood, two lost souls who leaned on each other in trying times; bonded by trauma, encouraged by resounding bravery, disciplined by strength. The fact that your boyfriend never even checked in with you after Nat's passing obviously hurt your feelings but you remained silent.

Again, to avoid generating more anxiety for Bucky.

You met the one-eyed man at a local, bustling coffee shop, finding the sight of the hardened, burly man eating a scone amusing. "Got you one of these," he nudged a dessert plate to your side of the table when you sat down with your desired coffee, "know you like 'em."

"Blueberries are my favorite," you half-smirked, regarding the moist muffin and sighing sadly. "All right, sir, what's on the docket?"

He stared at you for a moment, chewing thoughtfully before leaning back in his chair. "The fuck's going on with you?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You look different today."

"Mh," you nodded, joking, "got a hair cut."

"No, it's your aura. Something bothering you, kid?"

"You do realize I'm a fully grown adult, right?"

Nick shrugged, "I don't see age."

"You don't - nobody sees age, Nick, Jesus."

He took a sip of his green tea. "There's still something bothering you. Not sure if you should go on this mission if you're wound tight."

"I'm just dealing with shit at home."

"Oh, right, the cyborg. How is the hundred year old psycho?"

"You you want me to stab out your other eye? 'Cause I fucking will," you threatened with a fork clenched in your grasp, perking your brows up your forehead. "Say that shit again, see what the fuck I do, Nick, I absolutely dare you."

He chuckled, hands held in defense, "Sorry, sorry, that was uncalled for. What's wrong with Sergeant Barnes?"

You shrugged, "It's complicated."

"Bitch, aliens opening a wormhole in space and time to invade Earth is complicated - relationships aren't. Try me."

After an amused chuckle, you told him, "He's struggling right now. You know? After everything, it's been a lot for him and now that things are relatively back to normal, he's having a hard time trying to assimilate himself back into the populace. You know, learning to live in this day and age - a man out of time, outside his comfort zone, forced to adjust himself after living as a weapon of mass destruction for so long. Add in the fact that his best friend passed, marking another forceful adjustment he's unprepared for..."

"Hm," Nick nodded, "heard he's got a full pardon."

"He does."

"Which has a contingency he's gotta go to therapy, right? Part of rejoining society?"

You nodded, "Right, again."

"So he's in therapy and still struggling?"

"It's not like there's an on-off switch, Nick, therapy takes time and dedication. I just don't think he feels at peace, calm, in control - like he deserves any of this; the pardon especially. Think the stress, fear, and confusion is eating at him."

"Well, he's got you."

"I'm not his mother."

"No, you're his girlfriend, and it's a girlfriend's responsibility to support him, ain't it? Help him through this?"

"I can only do so much, Nick," you scoffed, "I'm just one person and he's a stubborn jackass - he just pushes me away. I'm sure I don't help the situation by accepting your contracts."

Fury considered your words for a long moment, then asked, "You said he's lonely?"

"Wouldn't you? Given his situation? He won't say, but I know losing Steve caused a part of him die."

Nick shrugged, "So get him a dog."

You never wouldn't guessed those words could ever pass Nick Fury's lips, head cocking, eyes narrowing, arms crossed over your chest. "I'm sorry, do what now?"

"It's obvious, ain't it? Dude needs company when you're gone, a sense of purpose, to feel like there was something - or someone - depending on him. Might help whatever limbo he's lingering in."

"A dog?"

"A dog. He can take it for walks or whatever."

You considered his recommendation, asking again, "A dog?"

"Do we need to get your hearing checked again? You lose the last functionality of your ears? Yes, a dog."

"I don't know..."

"It's just a suggestion, might promote his peace, help him process grief and guilt. Telling you, a dog would do him good. Now," he took another sip of tea, "onto business."

"You give me whiplash," you chuckled. "What's this job?"

"Simple and easy," he pulled up a tablet from the chair beside him, tapping it three times and handing it to you.

"None of your jobs are simple or easy, Nicky-Nick."

"I told you, don't call me that. Look, I just need you in London to investigate a string of potential terrorist activity. Just some recon, you won't be gone more than a few days - if you behave and stay on task."

You scanned the document, "When do I ever do that?" He chuckled briefly, you wondering, "Flagsmashers? Jesus, what a name. C'mon, you can't be serious. These guys are just radicals - you know, trying to vouch for those displaced after the Blip. It's actually kinda endearing, I mean, they're trying to give a microphone to those without a voice."

"They're escalating - too quickly," Fury informed. "They haven't raised any international flags yet, but something ain't right about them. I just need you as eyes and ears, maybe report if you think they're worth the worry."

Little did you know, in only about a month, you would join forces with Bucky and Sam Wilson - The Falcon - to dismantle the organization.

"When do I leave?"

"Tuesday would be ideal. But I can push it to Friday if you wanna go get that dog."

Your laughter was endearing, handing the tablet back over.

Bucky liked holding hands, though, he often wouldn't ever voice it. It made him feel tethered, anchored to reality; instilling a sense of pride to have such a gorgeous lady - such as yourself - at his side. However, the part he liked most, was being reminded he wasn't alone; even when on crowded, overpopulated streets, he didn't have to be afraid because with his hand in yours, he looked just like everyone else. You protected him even without intending to or without even knowing what you were doing.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," he sighed, people on the street sidestepping and avoiding running into you two. "I was upset, stressed out, you know how I get after seeing Raynor."

"It's okay, baby," you assured, ever the patient, loyal, and supportive girlfriend he needed. "I'm not holding it against you, but just promise me, when you're ready, you'll tell me."

He nodded, "I will - I mean, I promise." You hummed and pet his bicep with your other hand, giving his arm a hug. "Now are you gonna tell me where we're going?"

"I told you, it's a surprise."

He was ready to reply when a small commotion echoed from the alley you were passing, Bucky coming to a jarring halt that yanked on your arm, swinging you around. You were ready to ask what was happening when you clocked one of Bucky's "friends", an older man named Yori Nakajima, arguing with one of his neighbors.

"Hey, hey, Yori," Bucky intervened, you watching from the mouth of the alley, "woah, hey, what's going on?"

You couldn't hear whatever Yori was saying, but Bucky turned to the other man and growled something at him that made the neighbor scurry off. He glared at you, lip curled in a sneer, disappearing amongst patrons of the crowded sidewalk. You frowned and approached Yori and Bucky, your boyfriend still trying to calm his friend - well, 'friend' was a very generous term. See, Yori was the father of a young man that died by the hand of the Winter Soldier, being a name on Bucky's list he needed to make amends with.

However, when you took your place beside Bucky, Yori was waving you both off and shuffling down the alley, towards one of his apartment building's doors. "What was that all about?" You asked softly, taking note of the disgruntled expression your boyfriend usually wore these days.

"Just," he sighed, shaking his head, "Yori's upset with some of his neighbors - thinks they're encroaching on being disrespectful."

"When doesn't he?" Bucky sighed, you wondering softly, "You think you're ever gonna feel ready to tell him?"

"I'm working on it," he sighed sadly. "All right, c'mon - "

You both paused with furrowed brows when there came a series of shrill meows from under a couple of soggy, cardboard boxes beside a dumpster. "Did you hear that?" You asked.

"Uh-huh."

Another elongated meow was heard, Bucky curiously approach the discarded trash coated in sewage sludge. He slowly squatted, you approaching his shoulder when another meow cried out. Now, normally, you'd never investigate animal noises out of fear they were feral and carrying disease, but something just felt sad about what you heard - apparently, to Bucky, too. Gingerly, he reached out and lifted a piece of dripping cardboard, seeing a bundle moving under the next piece. He moved that one, too.

"Oh, my God!" You cooed when a tiny kitten was revealed. White fur was stained with dirt, sludge, and other nasty juices; nose pink, eyes a piercing, clear blue with brownish tear stains rimming them. The kitten mewed in greeting, pacing a tight circle before trying to back up in the brick wall; hunching its back and hissing slightly when you lowered yourself into a squat beside Bucky. "Baby, it's all alone, should we help?" You pouted.

"I don't think it wants our help, doll," he sighed. "It looks scared of us. Bet the mother's around somewhere, be a shame to move it if she's coming back."

"It looks too skinny, maybe it's alone?"

"Or maybe it's not," Buck countered. "C'mon, sugar, we can't take it."

After a bit of back and forth, you finally relented and had to walk away. You frowned for at least two blocks, but upon your halt at a crosswalk, you were greeted by another shrieking meow. Whipping around, you and Buck both looked down to discover the wee little kitten had followed you and was practically yelling for your attention. You grinned.

"Well, now we really have to help it," you told Bucky.

"How?"

"We take it to a shelter," you answered, shrugging, "good thing I know where one is."

"What's it doing?" Bucky asked nervously, the kitten dancing around your legs; brushing up against you both, meowing the whole time.

"I think she wants you to pick her up," you smirked.

He sighed and stooped to scoop the little creature in hand, regarding it carefully; weighing it, checking paws and other vulnerable spots. Bucky muttered, "All right, yeah, fine, let's take him to a shelter. Little beast needs some food it feels like, definitely a flea bath and some fresh water."

"You big softie."

"Lead the way to the shelter, princess, c'mon," he ignored your jab, tucking the kitten into his chest protectively. "He feels fragile," Bucky worried, "maybe you should carry him, I might crush him."

"You've got the little babe, Buck," you assured, "you're not gonna hurt him - I mean, if it's even a him."

"By the attitude, could be a girl," he joked, making your heart lighten. He'd been in such a funk that you missed his teasing, soft words; the little jokes he cracked, his smile - God, you missed seeing his smile. During your time on the run after DC, while seeking refuge in Bucharest for a couple years, you grew accustomed to seeing his radiant smile; remembering how easily he offered it when just the two of you. For a moment, you considered how your relationship was no longer just you and Bucky - but his trauma, too.

Arriving at the shelter, it was like an assault on the senses. Dogs were heard barking from the kennels, the pungent smell of urine and wood chips smacking you in the face, and a sort of humidity lingering in the air - a sharp contrast to the crisp outside.

"Hi," you greeted the receptionist, offering a kind smile.

"Hi, there. How can I help you two?" The man with long hair asked.

"Well, uh, two things," you explained, "one: we'd like to tour your kennels, we're interested in adopting a dog - "

"We are?" Bucky gaped.

" - and two: we found this little fella in an alley," you pointed to the kitten curled protectively against Bucky's warmth. "We wanted to make sure he was okay, maybe leave him here for adoption?"

"Oh," Man Bun blinked, regarding both Bucky and the kitten, "wow, uh, yeah, that's really nice of you guys, rescuing the little guy. You know, since everyone came back few months ago, there's be an influx of strays. A lot of people gave up their animals when their loved ones came back."

"Well, that's super fucked up," your eyes rolled.

"Tell me about it," he sighed. "Look, I'd love to help you guys out, so, tell you what. I can let you back in the kennels - no problem! Help match you to your new companion, but, uh... I don't think I can help you with the cat. You see, we, uh, we've had to start euthanizing the overflow animals or the ones who don't get adopted in a timeframe. We're at our max capacity, so... If you wanna leave him here, uh, I can't promise he'll have a place."

"You'd put him down?" Bucky growled.

"It's not what we want to do," Man Bun swiftly explained, "but it's just necessary - we don't have the room or resources to take him."

"Do you know of any no-kill shelters? Maybe one that has room?" You asked, feeling Bucky's disgust rolling off him in waves.

"Not in the area," Man Bun frowned. "Honestly? I think the closest no-kill shelter's in Maryland. Maybe Virginia?"

"Jesus," you frowned, looking at Bucky.

"Look, my best advice?" Man Bun offered, "Take the little tike home, clean him up, and call around to other shelters to see if they have space. But if you intend to adopt a dog, maybe bringing back a kitten isn't the best timing. If you give him up to us, he'll probably be sent directly to overflow..."

"We'll take him home," Bucky instantly decided, shocking you.

"We will?" You asked softly, lips curling in a small smile.

"Why not?" He sighed.

"I would've thought you'd be more of a dog person..."

"I'm not an animal person, but we're not leaving this little guy here just for him to be euthanized. We can handle him for a few days, you know, until we find a shelter with room."

"I think that's a great idea," you grinned.

"But was this your plan? For us to adopt a dog?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Why?"

You shrugged, "Just thought a dog would be nice company when I'm outta town for work. You know, could go on walks or runs together, you'd have someone looking out for you, maybe a dog would help with your stress levels?"

He eyed you for a moment, sighing, "I appreciate that, doll. Maybe another time, though? At least let us find somewhere or someone to take this guy."

The kitten gave a prolonged squeak - seemingly agreeing. "All right, noisy, we hear you," you chuckled, giving the kitten's head a scratch. You asked Man Bun, "Do you guys have the means to check him over, you know, before we go home? Make sure he's not injured or something?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "let me go get one of the technicians."

After the tech's exam, you were given the paperwork from that day's visit, the name, number, and address of a recommended vet, and before you knew it, found yourselves at the local pet store. You would've been ashamed by the absurd amount of money you spent, but Bucky rationalized the need because you weren't sure how long your new companion would stay with you. So, you ransacked the store, buying a sizable litter box, 50 pounds of actual litter, a bag of kibble, case of wet food, several different treats, a balm for the baby's feet, too many toys and stimulation activities, a carrying case in the event of transporting the kitten, and a tiny collar - if you decided to keep the little noise machine.

The sight of Bucky with the little fuzz ball warmed your heart. He still seemed hesitant and stiff, as if afraid to hurt the kitten, but he wasn't so tense anymore. However, he handed the pet over for you to hold while he carried the supplies back home; biceps bulging to support the weight. In that moment, walking familiar streets with his arms full of cat supplies, he questioned how he got here - to feel all domestic and out-of-place. He was Bucky Barnes - a Sargent in the Army, prolific hitman, something of an Avenger now. He didn't adopt cats and buy toys!

However, watching you talk to the kitten softly, he smiled - something small at first that grew like a germinating seed to split his face. You seemed so... Bright, excited, rejuvenated, even. He knew the past five months since the Blip had been rough on you, what with losing Natasha, fighting Thanos and his army of aliens, then ricocheting into 'normal life' only to deal with his emotional baggage. Watching you walk down the street with a fuzzy white ball of energy, pointing out different things, cooing and narrating the city to the kitten as if he could understand was refreshing after seemingly seeing nothing but a frown on your lips recently.

To Bucky, as long as you were happy, he was happy - and it seemed you were very content with your new little buddy. So, he was happy with your new little buddy and figured a dose of domestic life wasn't the end of the world. In fact, he actually felt... Intrigued by the newest addition to your little family.

When you returned home, it was to an empty apartment. Bucky dropped the supplies in the living room, hands to his hips, looking around, "Well, uh... At least there's room to run around, right?"

You nodded, "And no risk of ruined furniture."

"Yeah," he sighed, watching you set the kitten down. "All right, pip squeak. C'mon, lemme give you the tour - pay attention. So, in here," he moved around the wall, kitten following and listening intently, labeling, "this is the kitchen, this is where you'll get your meals - and no, you're not allowed on the counters." He pointed a warning finger, "Don't let me catch you up there or there's gonna be hell to pay. I don't wanna find your hair in my morning bagel."

"Buck, you don't eat breakfast."

"Fine, then I don't wanna hear my girl found hair in her bagel."

The kitten mewed loudly, trotting to keep up as Bucky walked around the barren apartment - giving a literal tour. You unpacked the supplies, setting up a raised food bowl beside a full water bowl. You left the treats in an empty cupboard, the litter box ready to use in the bathroom, and tossed some toys around the open, empty living room floor. You meandered, stashing other supplies, hearing the scampering thuds of excited little feet.

When your head popped out of the kitchen, you grinned at what you saw. Bucky was sat on the floor, flicking a feathered stick over the hardwood floors for the kitten to race around and try to catch. The longer you watched, the more defenseless Bucky seemed, and dare you say it, he looked calm - maybe even happy. His eyes were locked on the animal's antics as if he didn't want to miss a single movement he made; small smile making him look younger and brighter.

You made a mental note to thank Nick Fury for his suggestion. Sure, he actually said to get a dog, but this kitten seemed to have the same effect.

"Hey, baby?" You called, hanging up your phone after calling the recommended vet. "So, uh... Listen, you know how I have to go outta town on Friday?"

"Yeah?" He glanced up, letting the kitten wrestle his booted foot.

"So, I managed to get a vet appointment but it's for Friday. Is that okay? Or do you want me to reschedule for when I'm back so we can go together?"

"Oh, uh, no, that's all right, sugar, keep the Friday slot. I can take him, it's not a big deal."

"You sure? I hate having to saddle you with this responsibility."

"I'm sure," he nodded, "I can take him, it's okay."

For the rest of the week, you had a front row viewing of an incredible bond being formed. The kitten liked you, you two had many moments together, but it was obvious the little guy adored Bucky. He was stuck to your boyfriend like Velcro, following him everywhere, shrieking for attention when Bucky was preoccupied, liked being held when he cooked, even tried to get in the shower with Bucky. They played together, Bucky's laugh warming the entire apartment; positively obsessed with one another, the little guy even sleeping between you and Bucky.

It was as if you both forgot to look for the kitten a permanent home, the lack of furniture providing wide space for play and entertainment. Bucky even got one of those cat trees, couple individual scratching posts, and a laser pointer that drove your furry friend up the wall. There was some unspoken rule about naming animals - where if you named them, they were yours officially. So, one evening over dinner, you proposed a few names, Bucky giving his opinion; but then you began to consider "theme" names. Because your little buddy was white, you mused over names like Noelle or Snow, but finally settled on Alpine after narrowly beating out Aspen.

The day you flew to London, you warned both Bucky and kitten to behave themselves. Later that night, while you were sat in a tinted SUV for surveillance, your phone rang with Bucky's contact. "Hey, baby, how's it going?" You answered, refocusing through your advanced camera lens to snap necessary photos.

"Good, yeah. Uh, how's London?"

"Pretty dreary, it's been raining all day. Hey, how was the vet appointment?"

'Oh, yeah, no, it was, uh, yeah, it was good. Gave Alpine a buncha shots, microchipped her, started her on antibiotics - "

"Did you say, 'her'?"

"Yeah, that was the other thing - turns out, Alpine's a girl."

You chuckled, "Well, I'll be damned. How're you feelin', Buck?"

"I'm... Okay."

"I'm sorry I'm not there," you sighed. "Nightmares again?"

"Yeah."

"Sleeping in the living room?"

"You know it."

"TV on?"

"Reminds me I'm not where I dreamt I am."

"Well, I'll be home in a few days."

"What's this mission?"

"Just a little recon, I'm only to observe. Nicky told me to keep an eye on some suspicious activity."

"Don't tell me you're sitting in a white van?"

"No, sir, it's a Rolls Royce this time," you chuckled.

True to your word, you were home by Tuesday night. The transatlantic flight was long and tedious; a storm creating steady turbulence, making it absolutely impossible to get any shut eye. When you landed, you made a beeline to the Starbucks and got the largest coffee possible with an added 2 shots of espresso before exiting the bustling airport. Outside, waiting at the curb, Nick Fury himself stood before a sleek and shiny car that probably cost more than a 4-year education at an American university.

He smirked, "Welcome back, kid."

"Nice of you to pick me up, Nicky-Nick."

"Don't call me that."

"Don't call me 'kid'."

"Get in the Goddamn car, I'm not having this argument again."

After storing your luggage, Nick drove you back home while listening to your mission report. You didn't think the Flagsmashers were extreme enough to warrant intervention, but all Nick heard was that now was the time to strike before there came the need, before a chance for escalation could occur. You left the tablet full of notes, observations, photos, and data with the one-eyed man, and before you fully departed the car, paused to lean in the open window.

"Hey, uh, I've been meaning to thank you."

"What for?" Nick asked, face hardened in a permanent look of disagreement. You never took it personally - Nick Fury having professional Resting Bitch Face (RBF).

"Your advice about getting Bucky a dog."

"No shit," he chuckled, "you actually got him a dog?"

"Uh, well, no..."

"What'd you get?" Nick asked in suspicion, watching your lips roll between your teeth to restrain your smile. "Ah, hell no! You didn't! A cat? A fucking cat?"

"I know you don't like them - "

"Bitch! One scratched out my eye!"

"But our cat didn't."

"Doesn't matter - fuck all them felines."

You laughed and slapped the metal door, "Well, thank you anyway for the idea of a companion animal. Bucky's a lot calmer it seems."

Nick Fury sighed, waving you off like a pesky insect. "I'll call you when I got another job. Have fun with the little demon."

"You talkin' about Bucky or Alpine?"

"The cat - wait, Alpine? The fuck kinda name is that?"

"You know, Alpine... Like the Alps?"

His head shook, "I know what fuckin' alpine is."

"Why don't you head off - looks like you're gonna give yourself a stroke. Didn't realize getting a kitten would stress you out this bad."

"Get out my Goddamn window and I can leave."

You grinned and dropped a wink, again, patting the car and stepping back onto the sidewalk. Nick peeled off, leaving you alone to shoulder your duffel bag and head inside your apartment building. When you got to your desired location, the door opened without the usual creak, Bucky obviously WD-40'ing the hinges. "Hello?" You called softly, hanging your keys on the little peg in the foyer, toeing out of your shoes, glancing around the empty apartment.

Ready to call out again, you actually almost choked on air when you inhaled but stopped abruptly. You pouted your bottom lip at the sight of Bucky sound asleep in his nest on the floor, TV's lighting flashing and creating shadows, giving clear sight of Alpine curled in a tight ball on Buck's chest. His flesh hand was raised to rest on his chest, keeping Alpine cuddled to his warmth.

Quickly, you pulled your phone from your back pocket, snapping an adorable picture of your boyfriend before silently tiptoeing away to dispose of your duffel and purse. You sent the photo to Bucky's phone, positive you were keeping the kitten. After a long, hot shower that washed the travel from your body, you changed into loungewear, pulled your hair back, then reentered the living room where you knelt at Bucky's side. In-sync, your presence made both Alpine and Bucky flinch awake - your boyfriend jerking away from your warmth as the kitten hopped off his chest.

You winced, "Oh, shit, I'm so sorry, baby, I didn't mean to wake you."

His head shook, "No, it's all right, doll, I wasn't sleeping."

"You were, don't deny it," you grinned, settling on the mound of blankets.

Bucky chuckled gently, "I tried to stay up for you. C'mere," his arm opened in invitation, smirking gently. You settled down and turned into his side, his arm now coiled around your form, constricting to pull you closer so his lips could plant on your forehead. "How was London? Your mission?"

"Easy peasy," you sighed, "nothing too strenuous or stressful. The most 'complicated' part of the whole thing was using a different car each day to avoid suspicion."

"Hmm... Who was the target?"

"Some radical group," you sighed, head resting on his pectoral. "How was it? Just you and Alpine?"

"It was pretty good, nothing to complain about. She's nice company."

As if understanding she was the topic of conversation, Alpine mewed several times in a row as she walked up the seam of your body pressed to Bucky's. She turned in two circles before settling down between you; your grin authentic as a manicured fingernail extended to scratch her head.

"Actually, sweetheart, I've been thinking..."

"Hmm? About what?" You mumbled, eyes drooping with each passing second.

"About how we should keep her - Alpine, we should keep Alpine."

"You're just figuring that out now?" You teased, sluggishly lifting your head to smirk at him. "I knew she was ours the moment you picked her up. It'll be nice having her around, don't you think? I know she's not a dog you can take on walks but with Alpine, you don't have to be alone."

He nodded, "I like that idea. She's a good cat."

"Check your phone in the morning."

"Why?"

"Mmmh, I sent you a picture, you'll see - but it's just confirmation that Alpines part of us now, part of our crew."

"Our family," Bucky agreed softly. He watched you resettle on his chest, spending the following couple hours in the glow of the TV, watching you and Alpine. Bucky's heart warmed to a degree he's never known, making the comparison of himself to Jim Carrey's, the Grinch - a movie you made him watch. Eventually, exhaustion outweighed his domestic thoughts; falling asleep with you safe in his arms and Alpine curled up between you.

"Well, this certainly is a surprise... I was beginning to think James made you up."

"Oh, please, nobody could make me up - I'm too complex, nobody's got that kinda imagination," you smirked, legs crossed, seated beside Bucky on a sofa; both facing his therapist.

"I'm glad you could finally join us - I've been asking James to bring you for a while now," Dr. Raynor's eyes darted between you and Bucky, making you feel as if she was seeing right into your soul. However, her tone was accusatory, as if scolding Bucky.

So, you swiftly defended, "Well, I'm happy to be here. Bucky's one of my top priorities, I'd do anything for him - including attending any of these silly mandated sessions. Which are bullshit, by the way, because he's not the Winter Soldier anymore so why is Bucky being crucified? Why is this being pinned on him when he technically didn't do anything? The Winter Soldier did."

"Well, healing often takes time and dedication, and must be done in a series of steps. That's how you see real progress. These sessions are a condition of his pardon - "

"I can't believe your government would even enforce these silly little rules considering Bucky's assistance. He fought against Thanos, he fought on our side, and by all means, helped restore what was lost. I just find it pretty dehumanizing to force him to jump through hoops. I mean, for Christ's sake, half the universe was snapped away, you'd think after that, there wouldn't be need for pardons or contingencies - or for holding onto grudges."

"This is simply how we keep order in a post-Blip society. Everything changed in those five years, it's necessary to keep balance amongst all worldly citizens."

You scoffed lightly, "Ever consider these sessions might be doing more harm than good?"

Raynor frowned, "Despite the Winter Soldier being decommissioned, James still has trauma to process and skeletons to clear out of the closet. Yes, the Winter Soldier is gone, but the man remains - and James needs to focus on healing that part of himself. Whatever he did as the Winter Soldier wasn't Bucky's doing, but he still remembers all he did, which creates a heavy toll on the mind. That's part of the reason these sessions are mandated - because the assassin might be gone, but the residual effects still linger."

You hummed, "Well, let's get into it, Doc."

"You know... I've heard a lot about you. James paints you in a very bright light, says your bark and bite are equally as vicious."

"Hm," you nodded, brows perked, "yet I don't know shit about you."

"Perfectly natural. Typically, most people don't gossip about their therapists. It's nice that you could join us for this session."

"Nice to be invited."

She clicked her pen and settled her pad securely on her lap, just staring at you and Bucky for a long moment. You were ready to snap at her when she opened her mouth, "So, I hear you adopted a cat?"

"We did," you confirmed.

"Alpine," Bucky supplied, body rigid with tension and nerves.

"Right... Alpine," Raynor nodded, leaning her elbow to an arm of her padded chair. "How did this cat come into your possession?"

"We rescued her from a dumpster," Bucky answered stiffly.

"Really?" Raynor perked both brows.

"She was under some pieces of cardboard, screamin' her li'l head off," You chuckled. "Though, I think it's safe to say she chose us, adopted us as caregivers."

"How's that?"

"She wouldn't let us pick her up and we were afraid to take her in case her mama was lingering around. Turns out, she followed us. We were at a crosswalk when she caught up, demanding we pick her up and take her home."

"Is that so?"

"I'd like to think so," you nodded. "We were already on our way to the shelter, so, we took her with us, got her checked out."

"Why were you heading to the shelter to begin with?"

"Oh, uh, to adopt a dog. I had a colleague recommend an emotional support animal - or a companionship animal - to help Bucky feel less alone."

Raynor made a note of something. "You work often?" She asked.

"Often enough that I feel guilty for leaving. Figured getting a dog would instill a sense of dependence, you know, help Bucky feel like there was someone depending on him. Help usher in comfort and stability, help keep him calm, focused, distracted. But Alpine does the same thing - no dog necessary, apparently."

Raynor nodded, her wrinkles dimpling as she frowned and wrote down another note. When her eyes lifted, so did her lips; a smirk on display as she praised, "I actually think that's a wonderful idea. You know, there's been a lot of research about soldiers with PTSD benefitting from an emotional support animal. You're right, they promote peace, stability, distraction - gives patrons a tangible purpose, taking care of another life not their own."

"For sure, again, anything to help," you agreed, holding Bucky's gloved hand he kept covered by leather - only worn in public.

"Although, I wonder, why get a pet? I ask because James speaks highly of you, credits you for keeping him stable and on-track. Do you feel as if she's not enough, James? Is that why you kept Alpine?"

"No," he answered instantly, "she's my best girl and will always be enough. Watch your mouth, Doc."

"But sometimes extra help is nice," you tacked on, tightening your hand in Bucky's. "But for what it's worth, Dr. Raynor, Bucky keeps me sane. I keep him balanced. We keep each other safe. Alpine's just an added bonus, a quiet menace to help quell the business of our brains."

Raynor smirked, "I must say, you surprise me, Miss."

"I'm no stranger to mental health. But as I said before, I just want to help." You looked up at Bucky, finsihing softly, "He deserves peace in this lifetime - and if a little ball of fur can help, sign me up..."

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

[dangerpronebuddie]

Okay I have a LOT to say about that episode but I cannot get over the foreshadowing. (Bare with me, I'm running on half an hour of sleep)

First, I just have to say, I love that we had a voiceover!! I missed them. The fact it was Buck was fantastic, and also the first bit of foreshadowing I want to address, and also a parallel.

In 2x07, Buck's voiceover is at the beginning, and the end. "Eventually, everything dies" being said in the episode we meet Shannon was Loud. Foreshadowed the death of her and Eddie's marriage, and her.

Then we get to 8x05, and the scene cuts to Eddie taking down decorations and looking at the picture of 2x07's Halloween just as Buck says "Truth is, I can't imagine anything more painful than going through life alone. Except maybe one thing. Going through death alone."

Yes, the scene cuts back to Buck as he says the line about death, but stick with me. Either or both of the Diaz boys are in danger.

They've been building up to Eddie's next NDE for a while. "We got time" in 6x15 was him jinxing himself, but it could also be Chris. (I'll get back to that though). Pair that line with "we're all gonna die alone." Also applies to Chris, but it's a fear of Eddie's as well. I had thought, with the bridge collapse, that they closed that foreshadowing, but it doesn't seem like it holds the same weight as the well or the shooting (due in part possibly to Fox being cowards but anyway!), so I'm not counting it.

Then 8x01, he mentions the shooting as a brush off, like he did in 2x01 and in the LS crossover.

8x05 had a *lot* of parallels to Shannon's death, but in relation to Denny, and to Eddie. I haven't figured out why they paralleled Denny and Shannon, and if anybody knows, please enlighten me. All I know is Eddie is in Trouble.

But!

It could also mean Chris. All the same foreshadowing, apart from the shooting remark. It can all apply to Chris as well. Add in Helena's remark about how much he loves the water and them debating a pool (and Gavin announcing he was coming back for the season by splashing into a pool), and we could possibly have another drowning experience for Chris. (The fact his injuries parallel Buck's is another topic entirely and Interesting™ but that's not the point right now).

Mentioning their past injuries, and their current fears, and that voiceover speaks to either or even both Diaz boys experiencing an NDE. Could be a crash on their way home, Eddie in a crash on his way to El Paso, Chris drowning. There's a lot of possibilities, and there's some I'm leaning towards more, but you get the gist. I hope.

Anyway if you read all this palava I love you MUAH 😘

[ilovenatasharomanoff2-0]

Can you please do a fic where there is angst and smut like scenario, Natasha is always busy with work and always ignoring R which lead them into an big argument and nat got a little bit carried away and slap R but then she realized what she has done and want to show R how much she loves her

Lately

Pairings: Intersex Natasha Romanoff x Fem reader

Warnings: Angst, cunnilingus, one tiny slap, idk, small? Mentions of Natasha having a dick

Word count: 2.2k

11:45.

11:45 was the time your girlfriend entered the city apartment. The atmosphere was dim and moody as all the lights had been turned off, except for the TV that illuminated the room with a random show in the background. As she entered, Natasha carefully placed her computer bag on the floor and slipped off her shoes before proceeding to the living room. She scanned the area, searching for a trace of your presence on the inviting white couches.

Not being able to find you Natasha finds the Tv remote and stops the show that's playing.

With a faint sigh escaping her lips, she takes a few steps down the dimly lit hallway, her heart pulsing with a mix of hope and trepidation. As she approaches the entrance to your shared bedroom, she can't help but wonder if you'll be there, awaiting her arrival with open arms. Natasha slowly turned the doorknob to the side to see your sleeping body on the mattress, a smile engulfing her face as she watched your body move up and down slowly.

She was happy to see you still in the bed. Your relationship had been rocky for the past two weeks. It took a toll on both of you in the long run.

Natasha made her way to the closet to change out of her uncomfortable work clothes. She opted for a comfortable compression shirt and cozy sweatpants. She returned to the bed and noticed that you were already resting peacefully. She quietly crawled into bed beside you, wrapping her arms around your warm body. The feeling of your presence gave her a sense of comfort and security that she desperately needed. These small moments of closeness were what she cherished most about being with you.

As you gradually stirred from your slumber a few hours later, you instinctively turned to your side and noticed the vacant space on your bed, prompting you to groan in disappointment. you quickly got out of bed and headed straight to the bathroom to begin your morning routine. You meticulously brushed your teeth and hair, feeling revitalized and refreshed. Splashing some cold water on your face, you headed out of the room to try and find Natasha.

After a couple minutes of trying to find her, you see her in the home gym she designed for you two. She was wearing a White wife beater and blue Nike tracksuit pants. Natasha was doing pushups with the workout video displayed on the Tv in the room.

You slowly enter the room, pushing the transparent door open and looking down at her.

"Where were you last night." You ask her, with a serious tone, not being happy with her at the moment.

"Oh, I was still at work. Fury gave me more paperwork to do as soon as I was packing to go home. I'm so sorry baby." She replies, looking back at where you were and standing up to go and hug you.

You scoot back from the hug and look up at her face. "Natasha, i'm always so sick of you never being here. You know it affects me too, right?" You ask her, your eyes tearing up because you missed her so much.

"Yes- I know that y/n. it affects me too, you're not the only one getting hurt by it." Natasha responds back to you, pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes.

"You know, why are we even fighting right now y/n? It's 8:37 in the fucking morning y/n. 8:37!" She says to you, walking away to go take the weights off of the barbell she was using.

"I don't know Natasha - maybe it's because I miss my girlfriend, but she's never here when I need her the most." You say back to her, covering your face with your hands and letting out a frustrated sigh.

"Well, I honestly don't know what the fuck you want me to do y/n. Do you wanna go talk to fury for me? Tell him to cut back my fucking hours at work? Huh?" She asks, anger building up in her voice as she drops the weight, she was holding to look at you.

"Are you even listening to me right now Natasha!?" You tell her, a small smile coming over your face as you were in disbelief with what she was saying.

"Are you even listening to me y/n? I love you and I do want to spend time with you, I do. I just - don't know what you want me to fucking do." She yells back at you, walking a little closer to your body and standing infront of you.

"It's not that hard to do what i'm asking Natasha. To spend time with me? Okay yes, maybe I do want you to come home early one day. What's wrong with that? You're literally gone for so many days of the week and i'm always here wondering about how you are, if you're okay, worrying over you. And then when you do come home, I never get to see you - spend time with you! It's not fair Natasha." You yell back out to her, tears falling down from your eyes now.

"And you know what Nat-"

You were cut off when you felt a stinging sensation come over your face. Your hand immediately going to touch the skin that had been touched.

"What the fuck Natasha." You tell her, your eyes widening as you looked up at her once more. The skin now turning red from where her hand made impact.

"Y/n I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it. Please I'm sorry." She says before bringing you close to her body. Her eyes watering up thinking of what she just did. You didn't hug her back, you couldn't.

"No Natasha what the actual fuck is wrong with you?" You ask her as you walk away to the door.

"Wait-Where are you going y/n? Please, I'm sorry y/n."

"I'm gonna go stay at Wanda's for a few days Natasha." As you spoke to her, tears streamed down your face and you had to pause to catch your breath between each word. Leaving the gym to go pack a bag.

Natasha stood still in the now quiet gym, her mind consumed with thoughts about the recent events that had just transpired. The weight of her actions seemed to weigh heavily upon her heart, and a solitary tear trickled down her cheek. She never intended to cause any harm to you, and the realization of what she had done filled her with disgust and remorse.

You on the other hand got a random bag you found in your shared closet and threw some clothes In there. You already texted Wanda about what had happened between you and Natasha. Once you were done packing you immediately left through the front door, grabbing the car keys off of the accent table and unlocking the car.

After the incident with Natasha, you sat in the car, completely motionless. Tears flowed down your face, and you couldn't help but feel hurt by her actions. Although you knew she didn't mean to hurt you, you couldn't understand why she acted the way she did. Being around her at that moment was an unsettling experience, and you couldn't shake off the feeling.

"Shh, it's okay y/n. I promise." Wanda tells you, holding you close as you cry in her arms.

"I-I just don't understand Wanda!" You seem to convey to her, lifting your head to meet her gaze. Your eyes are swollen and discolored due to the extensive amount of crying you have gone through.

"I think she really is sorry y/n. She keeps on texting you and trying to call you. I know Natasha would never want to hurt you on purpose, y/n/n."

"I know, I know. I don't know what to say to her after that."

"Well, stay here for a couple hours, huh? We can watch some movies and order some, okay? But you have to talk to her y/n.

After quiet contemplation, you slowly and carefully shift your weight, gently lifting yourself off Wanda's body. As she rises from her bed calmly, she extends a compassionate hand towards you, guiding you towards her bathroom. She helps you delicately wash your face, ridding it of any traces of stubborn, dried mascara that stubbornly clung to your delicate skin.

-

"Feeling better?" She asks you, playing with your hair on the couch.

"Mhm. I'm gonna start heading out Wands." You tell her, shifting from your comfy position on her couch.

"You want me to walk you out?"

"No, it's okay; thank you so much, Wanda. I'll text you later.

"Of course, Y/n. It's gonna be okay, I swear.

As you leave Wanda's house, you lower your head and take a slow stride toward your vehicle. The memory of Natasha invades your thoughts, causing a wave of longing to wash over you. You can't help but admit that you miss her dearly, despite the difficulty in comprehending her actions.

As you approach the entrance of your shared apartment, you can feel your heart rate increase as nervousness courses through your body. Your gaze shifts down towards your phone, noting the time displayed: 9:34. As you unlock the screen, you are greeted with a barrage of missed calls and messages from Natasha, causing your attention to shift towards the digital notification center.

With a heavy sigh, you inhale deeply before grasping the key that had unlocked the door and stepping inside. As soon as you entered, you noticed Natasha sitting at the bar, her delicate frame perched on a high stool. Her hands were clasped on her head as if deep in thought, and she looked up as soon as she sensed your presence.

"Y/n?" She asks to you. Her face was filled with red. You could tell that she had been crying a lot.

You remained silent, your body motionless in the hallway.

"I, I'm so sorry y/n. Please."Natasha approached you with a hint of distress in her demeanor. Her arms wrapped around your frame as she drew nearer, seeking comfort and solace. In response, your arms naturally embraced her, offering a reassuring and supportive presence.

"Please y/n."

"I know it was an accident, Natasha; it's okay, Nat, I forgive you."

You perceive the sound of Natasha's sniffles and experience a dampness on your shoulder caused by her tears.

"I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you, baby, please." Natasha continues to weep inconsolably while you offer a comforting embrace. Your gentle touch caresses her back in soothing circular motions, providing a sense of relief from her emotional pain.

"Natasha, you're crying in my arms right now."

"N-no, please."

Before you can respond Natasha starts kissing up your neck. A low moan escapes your mouth.

"Nat."

She quickly drops to her knees and pulls down your sweatpants. She kisses up your thighs, her fingers making their way to your clothed clit. Rubbing the sensitive muscle slowly.

"Please let me show you how much I love you. Please y/n."

"Mmm-okay..." You tell her, Natasha takes that as her sign and pulls down your lace panties. You were already soaking wet. A grunt leaves Natasha's mouth as she moves her face to your cunt. She sticks her tongue out for a second before licking your folds. One of her hands returns to your clit and starts rubbing again, this time faster.

"Natasha!" You moan out, your hands coming to meet her head. Taking a hand full of red hair and pushing her closer to your cunt. Natasha lets a small whine and pushes her nose beneath the hood of your clit. She shakes her head left and right, moaning at how you taste.

She starts to move her hips back and forth, humping the air. Her cock grows each time she hears one of your pretty moans. The hand holding your thigh moves down to her loose boxers. She quickly grabs her cock and moves her hand up and down, wanting to release it whenever you do.

"Feels so good, Nat, mm!" Your head was thrown back as your hands gripped her hair harder.

"Could e-eat you out all day."

"Fuck! Natasha, I'm so close." You moan out to her, her finger stimulating your clit moves even faster. Her head moves closer to your cunt. Her grunts and groans add to your stimulation.

She's lost in eating your pussy. Her hips move faster, and so does her hand, a sign that she's also close.

"Gonna cum!" Your hips buck into her face. The finger on your clit moves to your hips to keep them stable. Natasha's hand moves faster and faster in her boxers. Loud grunts leave her mouth as she looks up at you, your face contorted in pleasure.

With one more guttural moan, you come undone on Natasha's tongue. A whine erupts from her mouth as she shoots her cum in her boxers simultaneously with you.

She pulls her face away from your cunt. The bottom half of her face is filled with your juices. Her full face is covered in red. The silent room is filled with your loud breaths.

"Fuck, come here."

[writing-in-the-impala]

Secret Smokes

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking, teacher-student relationship (but like it’s all legal chill), SLOWburn we’re in for a long ride

Word Count: Just over 1k

A/N:

This story takes place in a AU where Harry's parents are still alive so Remus Lupin still has all his friends and there is no war however that doesn't make him any less angsty. Everything else is pretty much the same as the canon universe! Enjoy!

MASTERLIST  | SERIES MASTER LIST | Part 1, Next Chapter

The wizarding world and the muggle world have always felt like two completely different worlds, maybe that's why Witches and Wizards who are muggle-born become outcasts. It's hard adjusting to a school but adjusting to a whole world at 11 is even harder. Even in your last year of Hogwarts you still didn't feel like you belonged, each summer going back to the muggle life that you have always known, working a summer job at a coffee shop and hanging out with muggles rather than wizards. You had friends in Hogwarts of course, some closer than others and even though it helped you feel more at home you knew that after Hogwarts you'd end up working a muggle job.

Maybe that's why entering your last year at Hogwarts didn't seem as intimidating because at the end of the day it didn't really matter what results you got in your N.E.W.T.S. Still in its own way you knew you'll miss the castle and the life you've lived in it. So your final train ride to Hogwarts felt a bit bittersweet. One thing didn't change, once again a new Defence against the dark arts teacher got introduced, this time one called Remus Lupin. He looked a lot kinder and nicer than the last one.

Your first week went by extremely quickly, quidditch practice hadn't started yet so you had more time to just hang out with your friends. All your lessons were easy so far as everyone was settling to being back. The new profesor was quickly becoming everyone's favourite due to his friendly nature, he seemed to befriend every student something no other profesor really did. You didn't really get to interact with him too much one-to-one during lessons as whenever he had free time the girls with a crush on him would jump onto the opportunity. You didn't really care about DADA as you wouldn't need it in the muggle world but you did understand why everyone was developing a crush, you had your own brewing for him.

It didn't take long for you to get home sick, homesick for the muggle world. Nothing really felt right to you, not even the food it just never tasted as good as what your mother would make, you missed your parents terribly it was a lot harder sending them owls than sending owls to wizard families, they didn't really grasp the concept. The twins could see that you were getting down again, they knew this happened every year after summer, and they've always tried to help lift your spirit. "Y/N we were thinking it was a good time to plan the first prank of the year what do you say?" Fred said. "Y/N is in her last year, she can't be participating in your silly games." Percy answered for you. "Who invited him?" George snapped back.

"Percy might be right I can't get in as much trouble as I did last year I don't want to get suspended, I'm on thin ice with old Minnie after the last prank we pulled before summer." You admitted, maybe you didn't care about your exam results but you didn't want to get suspended. The debate continued and you ended up agreeing to planning a prank that you may or may not help with. After dinner you decided to take a quick detour to the covered bridge, at the end of your fifth year you discovered it was empty in the evenings as it didn't lead to anywhere people would go at that time of night, it instantly became somewhere you would go for peace, and once you discovered smoking, it also got added to the list of secret smoking spots.

When you approached the middle of the bridge you saw a figure standing smoking a cigarette, you felt a bit gutted someone was using your spot but also excited at the idea of someone being so alike you. You approached them and they quickly put out the cigarette. "Don't worry man, I'm not a teacher I won't snitch." You claimed as you walked up to them before you could make out who it was.

"I know but I am." The figure replied, you were now close enough to make out that it was Professor Lupin. He was no longer leaning over the edge but standing straight with his hands in his pockets.

"I won't snitch if you won't?" You said pulling out your own packet of cigarettes. And his face turned to a gentle smile.

"I really shouldn't-" He protested. "Oh come on, you're new. This is normal." You preached. "Yeah Minerva and I do this all the time but don't tell her I told you." This got a laugh out of him.

"I may have believed you up until that point Y/N. But that's where you've lost me." He remembered your name and for some reason it made your heart skip for a second, he had so many students that he's met in one week and he still managed to memorise yours.

"Come on I'll give you a smoke if you don't tell anyone?" You reached out the pack to him "Camels?" He questioned while taking one. "You know them?" You took one out the packed for yourself before putting it away. "They're muggle smokes." He stated nonchalant, there wasn't any hate in those words which was rare around these halls. "I like them." You pulled out a lighter to light your cigarette while he snapped his fingers and it was instantly lit. "How did you do that? You instantly snapped back . "Do what?" He smiled while holding the cigarette in his mouth, he was attractive in the moon light. "Light it with a snap." You replicated his previous action. "It's a simple arson spell, just a small flame. I used wand less magic." He explained "If it's wand less why did you snap your fingers? Surely you could've just done it." You pressed. "Yes. You've got me there." He admitted. "So you were just trying to impress me?" Slipped out before you realised how those words could sound flirty, you barely knew the man. Truthfully if he wasn't your profesor and this was an interaction with a student you would be developing a stupid crush on them.

"You could say that." He said, with half a smile on his lips. "I'm the new profesor who you've just caught spending the evening by himself smoking, I don't want you to tell everyone I'm boring now I seem impressive."

"Or insecure." You shot back and he bit his lip and shook his head in disbelief at your words. He decided not to reply, instead went back to leaning over the bridge looking out into the darkness and smoking his cigarette and silence fell upon you both.

"I like the camel ones, just because the camel is cute." You broke the silence after a while, you felt bad for calling him insecure and wanted to kill the awkwardness. He laughed at your comment. "You know smokings bad for you? Even if the camel is cute." He said flicking the butt of his cigarette into the darkness. "I know." You quietly replied.

He checked his watch before standing up straight"Curfew has already started so don't stay out here too long as Snape is the one on duty today." He began to walk away. "Professor-" He turned around at your words. "This didn't happen right?" You questioned nervously. "What are camels?" He replied with a wink. "Have a good evening Y/N."

"You too Professor."

NEXT CHAPTER

[herrscherofinsanity]

Unsaid Things

Summary: What begins as a seemingly harmless disagreement erupts into a heated argument, leaving the echoes of hurtful words and unspoken frustrations lingering in the air.

Angst with a happy ending

Yu Jimin (Karina) x reader

Word count: 1.8k

____________________

The evening began like any other, the air tinged with the familiar warmth of shared laughter and whispered confessions. Yet, a seemingly innocent comment sparked the flames of disagreement—a spark that would soon grow into an uncontrollable blaze.

It started with a difference of opinion, a harmless clash that swiftly escalated into a battle neither of you anticipated. The room, once filled with the gentle hum of love, became a battleground for unspoken frustrations and hurtful words.

"You never listen, y/n!" Jimin's frustration spilled into the room, her voice edged with an anger that cut through the air.

Feeling the sting of accusation, you retorted with equal fervor. "Maybe if you weren't so stubborn, we could have a real conversation!"

The exchange of words, initially measured, began to escalate. The disagreement, no longer confined to the topic at hand, morphed into a barrage of hurtful comments, each word a dagger tearing at the fragile fabric of your relationship.

The laughter that once echoed off the walls now lay buried beneath the weight of resentment. Voices, once tender in the exchange of affection, grew louder, drowning in the rising tide of frustration.

Jimin's eyes, once a wellspring of love, were now stormy with emotions. "You're impossible, y/n! I can't do this anymore!"

You felt your whole world stopping, the ground beneath you began to crumble, you immediately shot back, "Maybe I'm better off without someone who can't appreciate what they have!"

The words hung in the air, a testament to the depth of your pain. The silence that followed was deafening, a vacuum filled with regret and the lingering scent of an emotional battlefield. Jimin’s eyes began to well up with tears, her ragged breathing catching you off guard.

“If that’s what you want, fine. I don’t want to keep putting up with you, enough is enough”.

_____________________

Days passed, the apartment that once housed your love now felt empty, haunted by the ghosts of unspoken regrets. Each passing moment etched the harshness of your words into your hearts, the weight of the argument heavy on your shoulders.

Jimin, who once found solace in your embrace, now sought refuge in the solitude of her thoughts. You, nursing wounds both seen and unseen, distanced yourself in an attempt to shield your heart from further pain.

In the quiet of your individual spaces, the realization of what had transpired began to settle. The words you had hurled in the heat of the moment now echoed as a painful reminder of the fragility of your love. Was this it? Three years building something you had thought would last a lifetime, up and gone just like that.

As the initial storm of anger subsided, a new storm brewed—a storm of regret, longing, and an overwhelming need to bridge the emotional chasm that had formed between the two of you. Your mind was plagued with thoughts of Jimin, was she as hurt as you were? Did she miss you as much as you missed her?

Jimin always claimed you were her world. How was she doing now that “her world” hadn’t spoken to her in weeks? Was she moving on or was she struggling as much as you were?

Truth is, you were feeling lost without your girlfriend; but how was she doing? You couldn’t help but feel worried. Had she been eating well? Was she getting enough sleep? Was she properly taking care of herself? You were dying to at least send her a quick text, but your pride stood in the way. Surely if Jimin wanted to talk to you she would’ve done so by now, why should you be the one to apologize when she was the one who started the argument?

And with that in mind, weeks went by.

____________________

Jimin's best friend, Minjeong, watched from the sidelines, torn between loyalty to Jimin and the ache of seeing you struggle. She knew the depth of your connection and understood that the silence that now filled the apartment echoed a shared pain.

Unable to bear witness to your suffering any longer, Minjeong decided to intervene. She knew that pride, no matter how well-intentioned, could be the greatest obstacle to love. And so, armed with a determination to mend what seemed irreparable, Minjeong set in motion a plan to bring you and Jimin back from the brink of a love lost to silence.

Days passed in the heavy silence that now permeated Jimin's apartment. Unable to bear the weight of the unresolved tension, you found yourself agreeing to meet Minjeong for coffee, hoping for a semblance of solace in the midst of the emotional turmoil.

The cafe was a refuge of soft chatter and the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee. You sat across from Minjeong; the air thick with the unspoken burden that had settled between you.

Minjeong, with a determined yet gentle expression, broke the silence. "y/n, I can't stand seeing both of you like this. The apartment feels like it's suffocating under the weight of whatever it is that you two left behind."

You sighed, a mixture of weariness and longing in your eyes. "I don't know what to do, Minjeong. It's like we've hit a wall, and I can't see a way through it."

Minjeong nodded, empathizing with the complexity of the situation. "Jimin cares about you more than anything. You two have been through so much together. I hate seeing that history overshadowed by a single disagreement."

"I hate it too," you admitted, the vulnerability of the situation laid bare. "But every time I think about reaching out, I can't shake the feeling that it might make things worse."

Minjeong leaned in, her gaze sincere. "Sometimes, taking the first step is the hardest, but it's also the most courageous. I know Jimin. She's hurting, probably more than she's letting on. But she loves you, y/n, and I believe you can work through this if you're willing to try."

You stared into the depths of the coffee cup sitting in front of you, contemplating Minjeong's words. The realization of the potential loss weighed heavily in your heart. "I don't want to lose her, Minjeong. But every time I think about picking up the phone, my pride gets in the way."

Minjeong's eyes softened, understanding the intricacies of pride and love. "It's okay to be scared. It's okay to be unsure. But consider what you might gain by trying. Regret is a heavier burden than the fear of vulnerability."

Silence hung in the air, the weight of Minjeong's words settling between you. Torn between fear and longing, you felt a stirring of resolve.

"I miss her," you confessed, your voice tinged with a mix of sadness and longing.

Minjeong smiled, offering your hand a supportive squeeze. "Then, go to her. Break the silence. Sometimes, all it takes is one person to start the journey back to each other."

As you left the cafe, Minjeong watched, hoping that the seeds of reconciliation had been planted.

____________________

With Minjeong's words lingering in your mind, you found yourself standing outside Jimin's apartment, hesitating before pressing the doorbell. The seconds that followed felt like an eternity until the door opened, revealing Jimin, her eyes reflecting the same pain you had been carrying.

"I miss you," Jimin whispered, her voice barely audible.

You nodded, tears glistening in your eyes. "I miss us."

The apartment was bathed in the soft glow of city lights as you two navigated the delicate terrain of healing. The air felt charged with the weight of unspoken apologies and a shared desperation to mend what seemed irreparably broken.

Jimin, her usually confident demeanor stripped away, sat on the edge of the couch, eyes fixed on the floor. You stood a few steps away, feeling the gravity of the moment—the make-or-break point of your relationship.

"I never meant for it to get this far," Jimin admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I let my pride cloud everything, and I pushed you away."

You nodded, a mix of sadness and understanding in your eyes. "I should have reached out too. I let the hurt fester instead of trying to fix this."

The silence lingered, a tangible reminder of the unspoken words that had driven you apart. In that moment, your eyes met, and for the first time in days, the wall of pride crumbled. You felt your heart clench at the sight of Jimin, a shadow of her usual self, but still able to make you feel so much with a mere look. You can’t lose her, not now, not ever.

"I'm scared," Jimin confessed, her gaze now locked with yours. "Scared that I've pushed you too far."

You took a tentative step forward, closing the physical and emotional gap between you and your girlfriend. "I'm scared too, Jimin. Scared that we might lose what we have."

As the honesty hung in the air, you found yourselves standing on the precipice of a choice—to let fear dictate the future or to confront it head-on. Slowly, you extended a hand, a silent invitation for Jimin to bridge the distance between you.

Jimin looked at the offered hand, hesitation and hope flickering in her eyes. With a deep breath, she reached out, your fingers intertwining—a simple gesture laden with the weight of reconciliation.

Jimin sighed at the contact, a small smile playing at her lips as she stared at your intertwined hands. God, she missed you so much.

"I love you," you whispered, the words a balm to the wounds that had festered for too long.

Jimin nodded, her eyes reflecting a mix of relief and gratitude. "I love you too, more than anything."

The emotional dam finally broke, and you embraced, a tight hug that conveyed more than words ever could. Tears, both of sorrow and relief, were shed, and in that shared vulnerability, you found the strength to rebuild what you thought had been lost.

As you sat together on the couch, hand in hand, you talked. About the hurt, the insecurities, and the shared dreams that had momentarily been forgotten. Listening with open hearts, forging a promise to communicate, to understand, and to never let pride overshadow your love again.

In the end, your home, once shrouded in silence, echoed with laughter and the gentle whispers of a love that had weathered the storm. You and Jimin emerged from the depths of conflict not unscathed, but stronger—armed with the wisdom that vulnerability is not a weakness but a powerful catalyst for healing and growth.

As the city outside continued its rhythmic hum, you rediscovered the melody of your shared love, each note a testament to the resilience of their bond. In the quiet of the night, you found solace in the understanding that love, when nurtured with honesty and forgiveness, could withstand even the most tumultuous storms.

____________________

A/N: Hi, happy new year to all of you! I spent the entirety of the winter break sick, so I didn't get as much done as I would've liked, but I still have a lot a want to share here with you guys. I'll be uploading stuff during the weekend, hopefully I don't forget to do so.

Anyway, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this! I went for a happy ending because I don't like hurting myself so yeah.

[whereispearlescentmoon]

Adding to my Nosey Neighbor thoughts from earlier:

(@bigb-enthusiast and @mapleejay pspspspspsps)

Imagine it begins to snow on the server. Pearl lets it fall on her, still, watching from atop their tower. She's shivering, but doesn't really notice, hands stiffening slowly on her spyglass as she stares at the Mean Gills chatting. She says nothing, but it hurts. Somehow it feels like a betrayal to see Martyn and Scott getting along so well. She starts to lose circulation. She still does not move.

BigB sits on the opposite side of the tower, though indoors, clutching his own spyglass. He doesn't really need it to look down and see the Clockers. Scar is waving around a sword as he talks for emphasis. Cleo doesn't even flinch. Cleo turns her back to Scar to talk to BDubs. Cleo will never turn her back to BigB again.

(Pearl will. She will turn BigB's sword towards her and look away from him, begging him to kill her so he can live. He won't anyways, even with the extra time. Neither will she. Both of their blood will mingle together on Scott's sword.)

BigB can't watch anymore so he turns back inside. It's only then that he realizes Pearl isn't inside. He climbs up to meet her but she doesn't respond to his greeting. He sits down next to her and pulls her spyglass away.

"A little cold, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. I guess,"

The snow has started sticking in his hair, but it's already piled on her shoulders and hood. He fights the urge to wipe it off. Pearl's reaction to touch is...unpredictable. She forgets shes not alone sometimes, even if you're right next to her. He tries not to think about what it means that she doesn't think the people talking to her are solid enough to touch.

"I'm going to head inside, I think Jimmy's heading over to ask about Judy again,"

The aforementioned man is loitering on the bridge outside their tower, being way too loud if he's trying not to be suspicious. Grian shushes him and BigB is reminded of late night meetups that felt like betraying Ren and freedom in equal measure where both of them spent half the time shushing the other and the other half giggling.

He begins to climbs down and trusts that Pearl will follow him. The inside of the tower is warm and what little snow was clinging to him begins to melt.

Pearl won't come back inside until Jimmy has come and gone. Falling snow doesn't have the same bite as sitting directly in powdered snow, but she is tinted blue all the same. BigB will place a hand on her, fingertips first to warn and then the rest when she has acknowledged that he is real, and guide her towards a furnace. She will hiss in pain as the blood returns to dying nerves and feeling returns to fingers that are scarred from the frostbite of a previous life. They will never talk about it.

(In the next life she will drop dripstone on his head and he will be reminded of his skull splitting open in time with Ren's. And he will feel like he's speaking with Ren's voice as he banishes her from Love Island. They are back in the Box and she is a demoness who has brought death with her. But she will tilt her head and ask "Nosey Neighbors?" and he will sigh and forgive her, remembering how the time he took from her tasted.)

[f1bordeaux]

The String That Binds Us. (Chapter 1) | ln4, cl16

You fell in love with this sport all because of him. It would be selfish not to thank that boy for his help in getting you here today, even if you both ended on rocky terms. However, after finding yourself in the same paddock as your childhood bestfriend, your mentor, your first true love, and the boy who left you for the bigger picture, you realize that he wants nothing to do with you. So, as fate has it, perhaps you'll end up in the arms of someone else. Or maybe, just maybe, that string that has been tied to the two of you since birth will pull you back into eachothers lives. Warnings : none Pairings : Lando Norris x reader, Charles Leclerc x reader Word Count : 1923 Poetry style | Story style A/n: here, my lovelies, is chapter one. Not proofread srry lolsies. Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

one; y/n. 

There was something about it, something in the early morning rays reflecting off the cherry-red paint that just wiped away all exhaustion previously held in your bones. You were wide awake as you stared at the cars being rolled off the truck and into the garage. It was only five am but the sun had already crept over the horizon well enough to illuminate the sight in front of you. Golds and reds, blacks and yellows all mixed into a work of art nobody else could recreate. This is what you were here for. This is what you were living for.

“Gorgeous, innit’?”

You turned to your left, face to face with two others donning the same uniform as you. The woman who had spoken seemed a bit older than you, but now way had she yet reached her thirties. A man was accompanying her, although his eyes rested not on you, but on the tyres now being rolled out of the truck. He seemed close to her age, his deep-tanned skin a high contrast to hers.

You smiled at her before looking down at your lanyard. It was still so hard to process being here, on a Thursday morning in Bahrain, waiting for the weekend that was about to ensue. You were one of them now. You were an insider, a person that got to see everything on a deeper level. People dreamed of getting here, people worked their whole lives in hopes of getting here and yet here you were, 23 years old and face-to-face with Carlos Sainz’s car. It looked so much better in-person.

“It really is.” You sighed, looking back up. The truck was empty now, they were beginning to close the back door. “I still can't believe I’m here.”

The blonde lady leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of your badge. “Y/n y/ln? You're new, huh?”

You turned to meet her eyes, a large smile on your face. “Yes, I just graduated University.”

“What an amazing first job to have then.” She smiled back. The man beside her now looked at you as he adjusted the ballcap on his head. “I'm Bridgette, but everyone in the garage just calls me Bridge.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” You extended out a hand which she gratefully accepted.

“This is Lorenzo.” Bridgette nodded to the man who offered a toothless smile and his hand. “Enough standing around, we’ve got work to do. Walk with us.”

So you did. The garage wasn’t too far away, just around the corner, but Bridgette loved to talk; that you quickly found out. “Where are you from?” Was her first question.

“Bristol.”

“I hear it’s nice. They’ve got that beautiful river running through it, no?” She asked, looking straight ahead. You just nodded, unsure if she saw your response, but when she kept going you assumed she had. “I’m from Perth. Nothin’ quite like Australia, I must say.” “Isn’t Lando from Bristol?” Lorenzo added. His accent was thick as he spoke.

You nodded again, this time opting to expand on the question. “He is, yeah. We actually grew up together.”

Bridgette turned her head to look at you. “No way! Why didn’t your mate get you a job over at Mclaren?”

A blush coated your cheeks. You didn’t know where it came from, maybe embarrassment, maybe fear, hell, maybe even sadness. Lando wouldn’t have put in a good word for you, not today. Perhaps seven years ago when the two of you were teenagers and on a completely different page, but not now.

“We don't talk like we used to. He was gone a lot but he moved away for good when he was seventeen. He never really looked back, either.” You sighed. An odd sense of pity hung over the three of you. In an attempt to lighten the mood you clapped your hands together and smiled at the two engineers next to you. “But he got me into cars and engineering! So, I owe him a thanks for that.”

Bridgette nodded and pressed her lips into a thin line. “There ya’ go.”

The next few moments were rushed. The three of you entered the garage where people worked on putting everything into place. You were introduced to management and owners, mechanics and bosses. Tyres were being placed on racks, tarps were being placed over backup cars, tool boxes were being passed around. It was thrilling, even if you were just standing on the sidelines watching as it all happened. Soon, however, someone called your name. You were sure it was Bridgette or Lorenzo, but it was someone else. Alessandro, Charles' chief mechanic, was heading straight for you, clipboard in hand.

“Have you been assigned a team yet?”

“No, sir.”

He smiled. “Call me Alessandro. No need for formalities. But anyways,” He looked down at the clipboard then back up at you. “Our front jack guy broke his wrist and I need someone to replace him. Care to run some drills?”

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips. “I would be honored.”

“Awesome.” He nodded over his shoulder. “Let's go get you a suit and helmet, then.”

x

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t get the spot.” Bridgette sipped her coffee. “You absolutely crushed it.”

You blushed, rolling your finger around the rim of your cup. The Ferrari motorhome was gorgeous with its meeting rooms and rooftop balcony, with its relaxation spots and cafe. It really put into perspective where you were and who you were working for.

“Thank you,” You said quietly.

The day had gone by rather quickly. The sun was already setting over the desert and exhaustion clung to your body just as tightly as the uniform you wore. You’d spent hours running drills, practicing the most simple yet vital job-jacking the car up. You did it over and over again, improving with every run. After that you were tasked with doing inventory. Sure, it was a small task, one that didn’t require you to get hands on with the car, but it was still important. You wandered the garage counting tyres, drills, wrenches, going through tool bags and drawers. It helped you get situated in the space, to learn the layout and whereabouts of everything. Once you had finished that, you were offered to help wash Charles’ back up car. You gladly obliged, happy to be finally touching the car at least. You washed the tyres, the halo, the rear wing and a bit of the body before standing back to revel in the beauty of the car. It seemed to shine, even in the dim garage lighting. You felt so fulfilled, so privileged, so at home.

“Alessandro likes to give everyone a shot, he doesn’t discriminate.” Bridgette continued. “Today might have been your lucky break.”

“I’d be happy even being a back-up jack, honestly. Just wearing the fire suit and helmet makes me feel all,” you paused looking for the right word to describe it. “Giddy.”

“Well,” Lorenzo began, setting his phone face down on the table. “He needs to pick tonight so we can have that person participate in tomorrow's practice. You should know if you got it first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Guess I’ll be tossing and turning all night, then.” You joked.

A small laugh cluttered the table. It was getting late, the track becoming more and more empty with each passing moment. The motorhome was silent, save for the three of you lingering around. “We should go grab the last shuttle to the hotel,” Bridgette stood, taking one last swig from her cup before tossing it into a bin. “Are the two of you coming?”

Lorenzo stood up, as did you. “I left my bag in the lockers. I can wait for the next one if you both would like to go.”

“It’s ok,” he said. “We can wait for you at the front gate.”

“Alright, then. I’ll be quick.”

You jogged through the paddock, grateful that the heat had subsided. Lights poured out of each garage, illuminating pit lane in a way the sun hadn't. The sun, harsh and bright, brought a form of intimidation onto the pavement. The lights however, soft and orange, seemed to bring peace. It was a gentle reminder that at the end of the day, everything would be alright.

You dodged into the Ferrari garage, running to the back lockers to retrieve your backpack. Although your head was almost completely submerged in the metal box, you could hear faint-chatter? You leaned back, wondering if Bridgette and Lorenzo had come to find you. No, it didn’t sound like them. The voice sounded much more familiar. It was like listening to one of your favorite songs after a long while.

Lando paused at the entrance of the garage. His phone was pressed into his ear. He stared at you, eyes squinted and eyebrows furrowed. Did he know it was you? Could he see you? Did he even remember what you looked like?

You swung your bag over your shoulders and closed the locker. As you approached, Lando lifted his brows, erasing the confused look on his face. He surely could see you now.

“Hey, I gotta call you back.” He sighed. “Yeah, everything is good. See you tomorrow.”

A few feet separated you and him. You debated on starting conversation, on asking how he’s been. But you decide just to nod and walk past him. That is your plan until he stops you.

“Y/n?”

You pressed your lips together in a flat smile. “Hey, Lando.”

He looked you up and down. You were uncertain if he found your Ferrari uniform insulting or fitting. What if you were wearing papaya? What if you were sporting  orange instead of red? Would he be looking at you in the same way?

“So you really did make it, huh?” Lando crossed his arms over his chest, smirking as you avoided eye contact.

“I suppose so.”

“Have they assigned you a driver?”

You looked up for the first time since your conversation began. A bit of pride swelled in your chest as you said, matter-of-factly, “Yeah, Charles Leclerc.”

He blinked hard, shocked that you landed not only a job with the most infamous F1 team, but on their star drivers car. Maybe you were better than you let on. Maybe it was more luck. But deep down Lando knew how good you were. He was able to experience it first hand as a kid.

“Wow. Most people remain without a designated driver for their first year. They kinda’ just float around doing all the dirty work. At least, that's how it is at Mclaren.”

“Right.” You gripped your backpack straps like a kid. “Good thing I'm not over there, then.”

“Yeah.”

The two of you fell quiet, only the sound of nearby passing cars and people walking by filled the air. To any bypasser this surely looked sketchy. Lando Norris, Mclarens golden boy, and a new engineer for an opposing team, just staring at one another. How odd.

You broke the silence first saying, “Well I’ve gotta’ go. I have some friends waiting for me to catch the shuttle.”

Lando just nodded, staring at the ground as you walked by. As you passed Carlos’ garage, he called out, “I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.”

You could barely hear it with the way he spoke so quietly. But you stopped, turning your head and offering a real, genuine smile. “Yeah,” You breathed out.

He smiled back. “Good luck.”

[cinnamontails-ff]

Art for Chapter 23 of MA

I lied, I can't wait, everyone needs to see this incredible piece the wonderful @miurgen did for chapter 23 of Magistrate's Advocate ❤

But she also knew that defiant look in his eyes, knew it from way before they had turned red and scary. And she knew that her entire life, she’d always pulled away from him when he got like this. Had swallowed her words and turned right back around, leaving him alone for fear of overstepping, of being too much. Not now. Not anymore. Now, Zoraya rolled up the sleeve of her blouse and pushed her arm through the metal bars, holding out her bare wrist. “Here,” she said. “Drink.”

This was my first time commissioning art for my fic and Miurgen was so so wonderful to work with. I cannot recommend her enough. She did such a great job of translating my rambly description of the scene and its context into this beautiful piece. The way the light comes into the cell from Zoya's direction, the way he's clutching himself as he's huddling there, his face so full of anger and sadness and frustration? I screamed when I first saw it in color.

This scene has been in my mind from the very beginning of the story. Zoya has been his guardian angel (or, well, advocate) in so many ways and this is the culmination of it all. This is him at his lowest, having burned all the bridges between them, doing his utmost to scare her away, and she still reaches out for him. Not because she can't let go, but because she's learned that she can -- that she has something to offer and that sometimes she needs to move past his façade, for both of their sakes.

I love them both so dearly and I'm so glad I didn't quit the story, so I could get to this point. Thank you all for reading.

[luveline]

steve zombie au —you and steve celebrate his birthday with a frank discussion and some new fun. [5k]

fem!reader, afab!reader, fluff, MDNI smut (hand job, implied oral), cw for mentioned circumstances of the apocalypse; food insecurity, danger, zombies, nightmares, injury

April 29th starts exceedingly warm. Summer is fast approaching, and it's being felt all over The College community. You can forget zombies — a world without air conditioning is much scarier. 

You're kidding, obviously. Geeks are scary. Both for what they are, slimy decomposing husks that want more than anything to chew on you like a dog toy, and what they could be, the end of your life. There have been times where you wished for something of the same calibre, but these days you have someone you want to hold onto. 

And that someone is turning twenty three. He's still sleeping, the limp hair in his eyes freshly shorn. He doesn't know that you know it's his birthday today, but you do, so you'd traded with Mel the used-to-be hairdresser to get you both haircuts. You would've traded just for him —her services aren't cheap— if you thought he'd ever let you, or ever get one without you.

It's exactly that reason that you'd wanted him to have a haircut in the first place, and why you want him to have a good birthday. He's so loving, and sweet, and good, he deserves to feel special. He needs to know how much you appreciate him. 

You're hoping you've prepared enough to do that. 

You brush the sweat damp hair out of Steve's eyes as he begins to stir. You've been up for hours, now, and it's a credit to how much you like him that you would wake up early on a day you could've slept in, sweaty but safe in the circle of his arm. You've washed up for the morning so he doesn't have to wake to your oily face, and you press a spearmint-fresh kiss to his cheek as his eyelashes strain. 

"Hey," he says, rough with sleep. 

You love his voice in the mornings. "Hey, handsome. Good morning." 

You lay your cheek against his pillow, watching as he opens his eyes. Your hand roves over his naked torso selfishly, feeling the soft indentations of muscle. He's put on weight since you got here. It's amazing. 

"It's fucking–" He stretches out beside you, his sentence scythed in two by a low groan. "S'fucking so hot. I just woke up and it's so hot." 

"I think it's finally summer." 

"I don't know," he argues lightly, "it shouldn't be this hot. Not for another two months, Jesus." 

He traces your face with his eyes as he talks, and as his sentence finishes he pauses his searching. He brings a hand up between your two bodies and rubs his thumb against the highest point of your cheek. "I guess it's almost May." 

"It's April 29th," you say softly. 

His lashes come together slowly, a subtle suspicious squint souring his otherwise serene expression. "Robin told you?" 

"Yes, she did. Happy birthday, baby." 

He looks at you a little longer. You like to be looked at by Steve because you know he's thinking nice things as he does, but for those long, stretched seconds you worry you've given him a reason to wrinkle his nose. Maybe it's cringy to be romantic about it. After all, he'd kept his birthday to himself the entire time you'd known him. 

"Thank you." 

He tugs you in for a hug, so tight you swear you can feel his heartbeat against your own. 

"You're welcome," you say, words smothered under his cheek. 

He clings to you. You can't count how many hugs you've shared after so long together. Even before Steve told you he loved you on the floor of this very room, before he asked if you were together in a cold car shivering for your lives in the middle of an abandoned highway, he was hugging you when you needed them, or when he needed you. 

You feel your eyes warm thinking about it, until the heat becomes tears, and the tears roll down over the bridge of your nose. You push your head as far as you can over Steve's shoulder, your hands hugging behind his head to keep him with you if he tries to move. You're selfish, and you don't deserve him but you have him. It counts for something. 

"I love you," you say, tears making your voice all wobbly. Cicadas call from the open window, and the earth seems deathly still. Steve is quiet for a while and you worry you've put him off crying on his special day, but then his arm shifts against your back and his embrace tightens again. 

"I can't believe it took me," —he presses his forehead to yours— "twenty three years to find you." 

"You found me ages ago," you remind him, fighting for your life because isn't that the most romantic thing, isn't he the sweetest guy? 

"Are you crying?" he asks, frowning. 

"Not really. I just love you." 

He holds your face in his palm and gives you a gentle shake. "I love you. But you know that. It's embarrassing how much you know that."

"Embarrassing how much you love me?" you ask, poking for extra compliments. Again, you're selfish. 

Again, it counts for something. 

Steve pushes your shoulders back into the bed and follows with his weight on top of you, his chest pressed to your chest and an elbow by your arm so his face doesn't smash into yours. You're a little daunted —Steve doesn't come on to you so suddenly, but it's his birthday, and you just asked him how much he loves you. Maybe he's excited. 

His laugh fans over your face. 

"Sorry," he murmurs, "I saw the look on your face." He turns his head to kiss your cheek. "I love you so much. That part isn't embarrassing, at all, I just mean I would've had the shit kicked out of me in high school for being whipped." 

"You're whipped?" you ask lightly, trying to maintain casualness as his lips dip lower. His kisses show how he's still far from being properly awake, mouthing at the column of your throat one slovenly inch at a time.

"I'm worse than that," he says, his lips parting over your pulse. 

His teeth scratch. 

"Steve–" You laugh as he sucks your skin between his teeth, not his worst hickey but the start of a sore one if you let him finish. "Baby." 

He pulls away, his words scorching against you, "You sound flustered." 

"I am! You're biting me." 

"I'm not not biting you," he agrees, kissing his hickey. It won't last, he hadn't worked at it for very long, but it turned you to jelly under his big hands. "Sorry, I like when you do that." 

"Do what?" 

"You relax," he says with a smile. 

"I relax with you." 

It's true and untrue. It takes you time to decompress, for months you hadn't felt safe, and then things had happened to rob you of that feeling again, but Steve's persistence and insistence that nothing is going to happen is one you believe. You crawl into bed with him and sometimes it takes an hour, but you relax. You sleep well with him. 

"I know," he says, pulling up to meet your eyes again, "but when I kiss you like that you go somewhere else. I'm not saying it to be cheesy, although it's definitely cheesy and I'm a romantic weapon." He smiles at your smiling. "I'm trying to describe it to you but I got a C in English and I never went to college." 

You laugh again. He would've been hard pushed to go, considering the circumstances. 

"We're in college now," you say. 

The community that you live in has been nicknamed The College. It was a smaller college campus once upon a time, and now it homes a couple hundred people of all ages trying to make a life. 

"Let me brush my teeth and then I'm gonna kiss you stupid," Steve says, climbing off of you. 

There isn't an ensuite in your room but there is a small sink, and he stands there in his boxers and short-sleeved t-shirt bent over the basin. He puts paste on his toothbrush and tries to talk to you around brushing, his hair rumpled and sticking out at the back, his boxers lower on one hip. 

You're trying to talk back to him, but you've noticed something you hadn't meant to. 

Steve has a bulge. 

Steve usually has a bulge, you're not stupid, you know your boyfriend is well-endowed. It would be impossible not to notice, you've woken countless times to something warm pressed against your thigh, but you honestly hadn't cared. You and Steve haven't had sex, and that doesn't bother either of you, you know it with surety. Your relationship has always weighed heavily on other things. But you have to wonder if he wants it. You know you do, in moments like this where he's had you pressed down into a box and nipped at your neck, suggesting the salacious to the shell of your ear. 

He swills out his mouth and washes his face as boys do, rough and quick, water dripping down his neck and soaking the hairs surrounding his face. 

You have your heart in your throat as he slides back into bed. 

"You have your shift soon?" he asks, hiking up on his pillow and pulling you toward his arms. 

"I swapped with Shirley to have today off, it's your birthday." 

"Ah, but when I gave you that necklace for your birthday there was no need." 

"It's different." 

Steve kisses the top of your head, sounding fondly defeated as he says, "It's not different." 

You turn in his hold, head by his elbow as you look up at him with a question you don't wanna ask in your eyes. He stares down at you. 

You shift your leg against him, and you can't miss the slight twitch of his mouth. Like he enjoyed the feeling. 

"Stevie," you murmur. "I have something I want to talk about, but I think I'll probably die of shame before I can say it out loud." 

"Is it your period? I already told you it shouldn't bother you, honey, it's natural–" 

"Progressive," you say with a laugh, "but no, I know you're not a big baby about it." The only thing that bothers Steve about it is that you're in pain when it happens.  

"I don't know what else would embarrass you like that," he says. 

"We don't have to talk about it. It's your birthday, I want to celebrate," you say, regretting your honesty. 

“It’s my birthday and I wanna talk about it,” he says. “Hit me with it. Tell me tell me tell me tell me–”

"No," you mumble, knowing you'll have to tell him now. 

"Please?" he asks. 

His tone slows everything down. Your mixed emotions, your apprehension and nerves, your excitement over his birthday, they slip away into the palm of his hand where it strokes under your breast. He takes it all. 

You look up into his face and try to look serious. 

"How come we don't have sex?" 

Steve is noticeably thrown for a loop. His hand lightens its hold. 

"Do you want the short answer?" he asks slowly. "Or the long one?" 

"Why are there two answers?" 

Steve is quiet for a second. You sit up some, not entirely but enough to feel as though he's hugging you rather than acting as a place for you to rest your head. He helps you without asking, hand like a brand considering the topic of conversation. 

"I just–" A muscle in his jaw moves as you talk. "I know sometimes I can– that you want to. I mean, that your, um–" 

"That I'm obviously excited," he says. 

You both cringe, and then you both laugh quietly. 

"Yeah. And you've never tried to do anything. I just wondered if maybe you don't want to, ever, or if you're waiting for me. If you are waiting for me…" 

"You're ready," Steve says. 

"Yeah." 

"I kind of knew that already, babe." Steve's fingers curl in toward your rib, knuckles resting against you, an arm behind your back. His face dips down to yours, and he kisses your cheek fondly and almost too softly, you barely feel it. "Not that you're obvious, but, you know, we've been together for a long time. I'd be an idiot if I couldn't read you." 

"So why haven't you asked me?" 

"Why haven't you asked me, 'til today?" He sounds immeasurably happy, now, his tone golden and silky smooth as pure honey, murmuring. "Being with you has never really been about that. I mean, we never could've on the road, how could you relax there?" 

"Maybe it would've relaxed me." 

"Maybe, but I kind of assumed it wouldn't. And I… I didn't want you to think you didn't have a choice, either, like I was looking after you so you had to do stuff you didn't want to do." 

"I wouldn't have thought that." 

"Good, then I was less of a dick than I thought." He pauses, breathes in the skin of your cheek as though it smells like something other than hand-soap turned face wash. "There were times when I really wanted to. But I guess most of the time I wasn't thinking about it, and then we got here and," —he smiles against your cheek— "I didn't want you to think I was saying I loved you and that having sex would make a difference." He turns bashful. "It sounds stupid now I'm actually telling you." 

"It doesn't," you say, immediate and soft with awe. "It doesn't." 

"Then you weren't safe, and you were having nightmares all the time, but now you're doing better and lately I've been thinking the same thing. Why aren't we?" 

You turn your face to his. "Well? Do you have an answer?" 

His lips pout up and his eyes squint a little as he nods, a melodramatic defeat. "The short answer. I can't find a box of fucking condoms." 

You're speechless. 

You cough. 

"...You've been looking?" you ask. 

"Sometimes. I looked in the mall pharmacy but they only had finger condoms. What am I gonna do with one of those?" He laughs at his own joke. 

You're thankful it isn't awkward. Thank whoever for your stupid beautiful boyfriend who cares about you more than anything. Too chivalrous to make a move but horny enough to look for condoms when his life is in danger. 

You settle your arms heavily over his shoulders and look him in the eye. "I really don't think that would work for you, Stevie." 

"You're flirting." 

"Is it working?" 

He touches the tip of his nose to yours. "It always works, but I really can't find any rubbers, I didn't want to ask you without being able to deliver. We're stuck." 

"I mean, maybe we could just… not use one?" you ask, genuinely wanting to hear his opinion. 

The side of Steve's nose touches yours, his breath warm on your cheek. "I thought about it. About asking you, but I just need you to be safe." He pulls back. "You couldn't have a baby." 

"I don't know. I don't think I could now, but we'd make it work." 

"Do you want one?" he asks. 

You think about the obvious. It's too fucking dangerous. Pregnancy before the apocalypse was dangerous. Pregnancy now is so much worse. It could kill you, and if it didn't labour could, and if it didn't and you did have a baby, that baby would live this life. You're too young to make that decision, you think. And if none of it mattered and you and Steve were a couple in a regular world, would you want one then? So soon? 

"No," you say. It feels good to say, because Steve will support every decision you make and you know it. 

"No. I don't want you to have one either." He licks his lips. "Maybe someday?" 

You smile at his hope. It cracks a yawning gap down your chest to the pit of your stomach. 

"Maybe someday," you say. 

He kisses you. Chaste but somehow sharp, pressing at the same time. Not trying to initiate anything he can't finish, but now that it's on the table the implied what-if feels heavy between you.

You hug him as the kiss breaks, your lips by his ear. "You could pull out?" you whisper. You love him and he's amazing but it's still a mortifying question. 

"I don't think that always works. Is it worth it?" he asks. 

Not really. Not if you aren't prepared to make big choices.

His arms wrap around you, and his hand rubs your back. "It's not like it'll never happen, honey." 

"Steve," you say softly, hand running down his back, "what if we did other stuff? Sex isn't just… I could make you feel good." You're trying hard not to sound crude, harder still not to sound as scared of his rejection as you feel. He's more than allowed to say no, but you hope he won't. You hope he wants you. 

"You could…" He swallows. You hear it loud and clear. 

"I could make you feel good," you repeat, lowering your voice. "What do you think, handsome?" 

"You don't have to do anything you're unsure of," he says. His breathlessness has your heart leaping in your chest. 

You pull back to see his face, find his cheeks warm as you press your palms to them. "I'm not unsure. If you want it, I want it. How do you feel?" 

"If you… if you change your mind," he murmurs. 

"I'll tell you," you say. You give him a look, the kind of bright-eyed, loving expression you save for special moments with him, pouring all your adoration and trust and wanting out for him to see. You lift your chin in question, and when he kisses you, you take it for a soft yes. 

You kiss him while you stand on knees, while you ease yourself over one thigh. Your knee rubs up against him and he shudders into the kiss, his hands leaping to your waist. 

"Do you," —you break away from his lips but can't stop yourself from dispersing honeyed pecks between words— "ever do anything by yourself? When I'm away? When I'm at the kitchen and you don't have to go, have you–" 

You're asking because you have a great suspicion that he has —one time you came home and he was so, so needy, clingy and sweet and relaxed. Another you might have found him midway, but he hid it well.

Steve nods hurriedly and steals another kiss. "Just a few times," he says. 

"How do you do that, sweetheart?" you ask, your hand trailing down his chest achingly slow. 

"I– I lay on your side of the bed." 

You kiss him harder than you mean to. "Why?" you ask into his lips. 

"It smells like you–" 

His hands roving up and down your back give you more than enough confidence to grasp at him wildly, your kissing suddenly, painfully desperate, your top lip on fire as Steve pulls your face down to his. You don't have the wherewithal to speak as your hand coast past his t-shirt to the rising tent of his boxers. 

Foreign and familiar at once. You've seen Steve naked a hundred times having lived in close quarters with him for as long as you have, and if Steve hadn't seen you before, all those times he's had to sit in the shower room with you lest you panic someone else is in the room would've made sure. You know what the other looks like bare. What you don't know is how they feel, and how they want to be touched. 

You reluctantly break your bruising kiss, resting your temple at his cheek as you look down. You slowly, slowly let your fingertips stroke down the line of his cock, beside yourself with giddy excitement as Steve moans breathlessly in your ear. 

"Fuck," he says. 

You've barely touched him. You flatten your hand as you approach the bottom of his length, pressing your thumb gently into the swelling of his balls. He hisses at your touching and you look up worriedly. "Sorry, am I not supposed to touch there?" you ask, whispering though there's no one else around to hear it. 

"Please," he says. He cuts himself off with a laugh, his head tilting back in pleasure as you put your hand back. "Please, touch anywhere." 

"It feels good?" 

"Please, honey, keep going," he says. 

You rub the length of his cock over his soft boxers, near awed as it hardens. You knew he was well endowed, and you've seen him hard and pressing against his jeans, but it feels different when it's under your hand. You drag your nose against the side of his throat, whispering, "Finger condoms really would've been useless," and laugh as he starts to laugh himself, breathless, throaty chuckling that lights a flame in your stomach. 

You start to kiss his neck slowly. Your hand is curious but not shy as it works up and down the length of him. Steve readjusts your grip, the pressure of it, his hand gentle on yours. 

Your face smushed to his neck, you watch what he's showing you and try to commit it to memory. It's tugging, almost. Kind but with a firm hand. 

"Can I see?" you ask. 

"Please." Steve is quick to pull his boxers down, exposing the pale length, his ruddy tip, the tiniest bead of precum shiny as it oozes from the head's slit. Your breath catches at the sight of his hand, his long fingers encapsulating the thick girth of his cock and tugging up. "Fuck," he says again. 

"Can I do it?" you ask. "Or is it–" 

"Honey, it's okay, you can do whatever you want to me," he reassures. "Just do it, baby, please." 

He rarely ever calls you baby. "Poor boy," you murmur. 

Steve laughs, as if to say, Fuck you, but he's distracted from his plight when you wrap your hand around his warm cock. He pushes your face into his neck instinctively as you start to move against him. 

You've enough sense to spit in your hand and work it around. He's hot, heavy in your hand, tip of his cock to the belly button if you press it toward his torso. 

"I don't think I'll last long," he warns. 

"How do I– do you want me to be gentler?" 

He bucks into your hand with a shiver, groaning like the suggestion is agonising. 

"Should I use my mouth?" you ask. 

Steve really does sound pained, then, his head falling back, his abdomen rising and falling quick against your bicep. "I'm trying to last, baby." It's as though he's begging for something without saying what he wants. 

You try to distract him a little, prolong the inevitable as your fingers flex around his cock. "Kiss me," you say, using a tone you hope —you know— will hook his attention. "Please, Stevie, kiss me?" 

He drags his head up, cheeks as red as the ruddy head of his cock, the heat practically emanating from him as he gives you what you want. These kisses are sloppy rather than messy, lavish rather than tired. Your tongue presses at the seam of his lips and your head turns heavily to the left, sighing into his mouth as his spit paints your lips. His cock leaps in your hand, and you speed up just a touch, the skin bunching ever so slightly with your ministrations. It gets harder and harder for him to kiss you as his climax builds, his breath coming in pants, his thighs and stomach tightening in anticipation. You pull away, letting him shudder and whine by your ear, his hand like a vice around your forearm that's not helping but holding you. You push kisses into his jaw, the skin under his ear, and weave the hand that isn't wrapped around his cock into the soft hair at the nape of his neck, scratching his scalp lightly as you confess. 

"I love you," you say, nipping at his neck, printing red crescents in your wake, "I love you," you repeat, hot breath fanning over your hotter kisses. "I love you," you mouth, resting your forehead against his neck.

His head clamps down on top of yours and breath catches, held, his hand practically crushing your wrist as frantic pleasure builds. You speed up even if you're not sure that you should, and it must be the right thing to do —Steve goes white out still and tense as stone, your eyes widening a touch as the first string of cum spills over your fingers. Something snaps in him and he's moaning like he might cry into your hair, breathless panting as sticky cum bumps down over your fingers with each pump, his cock twitching uselessly in your grip. 

You soften your grip but don't slow until he gasps and says, "Honey– ah, ah, don't, don't. Please, that's so–" He laughs deliriously. "I'm gonna pass out." 

You take your hand from his cock, not grossed out or anything but definitely not sure what to do now. Steve's all but collapsed beside you, his torso sliding behind you into the pillows, twisted up and breathing hard as he wraps his arms around your waist. It's an odd position, not the cuddling you'd pictured, but you're content to let him cling to you if he needs to. He breathes in harsh breaths against the small of your back. 

You watch with a burning pit in your stomach as a last bead of cum wets his cock and seeps into his boxers. 

"Did that feel okay?" you ask. His cock twitches again at the sound of your voice. You'll have to ask him what that means.

Steve doesn't answer you straight away. He sits up, and he tucks his cock away, and then he sees the mess he'd made of your hand and laughs. He's definitely high from the pleasure of cumming like that after so long, 'cos he grabs your hand and wipes it clean on the literal t-shirt he's wearing.

"Steve, I could've washed it," you complain, laughing with him.

"I'll wash the shirt," he says. He keeps your hand in his.

"Did it feel good?" you ask again. Low, you're shy to have to ask twice, worried he avoided the question. It obviously felt good, but you want the reassurance that you did it well.

He pulls your hand to his chest and leans down for a kiss. "I'm really worried we shouldn't have done that. That was like, pot. You're gateway drugging me." He kisses you again, and he rubs your hand with his thumb. "Felt good, honey, couldn't you tell? You did– you did so good, honey. It felt fucking good." 

You descend into another round of messy kissing. He must feel the shape of your pleased smile, as he smiles too, and it's very difficult to kiss each other seriously when your lips are hardly touching. 

"Can I ask for something else?" he asks, pulling away. 

Your heart skips, 'cos you think he might ask to fuck you, and after all his pretty sounds and the heat between your thighs, you'll probably say yes, and that would be a terrible fucking idea without any protection—

"Let me go down on you," he says. 

You gawp. "What?" 

"Let me go down on you, sweetheart, please." 

"I didn't even go down on you," you say shyly, heart beating in your stomach now. You shove your hand between your legs impulsively. 

"If you went down on me I would've embarrassed myself," he says. He follows your hand, his own slipping between your legs. "Only if you want to." 

"You don't have to, Steve, I just wanted you to feel good–"

"This is, like, the best day of my life," he says, "or second best, because the first time you told me you loved me was a fucking immense feeling–" 

"'Immense–'" 

"–I want you to feel like I just felt," he interrupts your interrupting. His eyes are imploring and his hands are soft where they roam. "We can stop if you don't like it, but I think you'll like it," he continues, rubbing the inside of your thigh teasingly. "If you want it, please let me." 

You nod quickly and pull him in for a kiss, though you pause when his lips are close and whisper, "I get to go down on you, then?" 

To which your boyfriend groans and kisses you roughly. Your lips are tingling from so many. 

"I guess it is my birthday," he says, with a faux-bashfulness that has you both giggling.

Later, at Robin's, when you're sure "We just got each other off repeatedly," has been written across your forehead for everyone else to see, and a small party of the older friends have gathered for a drink in Steve's honour, Christopher tosses a rectangle in Steve's direction. It slides right into his lap. 

You both look down. 

"Happy birthday, Harrington," Christopher says. "Don't worry, they shrink to fit." 

It's a box of condoms. 

Steve glares at Christopher for the public humiliation, but he puts the box of condoms in his pocket, and everybody gives you shit for it when you're making excuses to leave barely an hour later. 

—

thank you for reading!! I get asked to write about their first time more than anything else which isn't a bad thing, I really love that people like this au and that they want to see that, but I haven't personally been in the mood for that! I figured I'd post this even though it stops at hand stuff / isn't an explicit scene of them fucking because it was gathering dust and also because it hopefully answers some questions I get sent often about their sex lives! maybe I can write them fucking in the future but for now I hope you enjoy :D <3