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aquaticmercy · 7 hours ago

Text

Sleeper

Summary : When Bucky falls in love with the antihero he’s sleeping with, he offers her a place in the Thunderbolts*.

Pairing : Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x antihero!reader (she/her)

Warnings/tags : Violence, death, sex (a prominent theme but not graphic), cursing. Borderline obsessive behaviour. Congressman Barnes as per the Thunderbolts teaser. Batman/Catwoman-like dynamic. (Let me know if I miss anything.)

Word count : 6.5k

Note : This fic was genuinely written because of the van scene in the Thunderbolts trailer. That’s it. That’s how down bad I am for Thunderbolts Bucky. Reader is an antihero called ‘Sleeper.’ The Thunderbolts are referred to as ‘the team.’ The reader and Bucky first met a little bit before FATWS. I also have a cap! Sam fic coming out soon because my god. I am drooling over these two. Enjoy!

Bucky first heard of your existence in whispers.

He had heard your codename in hushed tones when he got off the ice in Wakanda, after Shuri helped rid his brain of the trigger words that haunted him.

Several of the Dora Milaje had crossed paths with you in Ivory Coast, and they had told everyone in the palace about how terrifyingly efficient—and violent— you had been. They said you finished the job before they even got there.

Your codename was nothing but silent rumours by those on the fringes of the intelligence community. They called you ‘Sleeper’— it wasn't a name you chose for yourself, but you have chosen to embrace the fear that people associated with it.

You were an antihero, a vigilante who left rivers of blood in your wake.

Four years ago, you started tracking down the same corrupt officials and Hydra remnants that Bucky was trying to arrest.

The difference: Bucky set out to turn them in, you had your heart set on killing them, fast and efficient, as you always have been.

The first time you crossed paths with the former Winter Soldier, it was in a crumbling KGB safehouse in Eastern Europe. Bucky had taken down most of the guards, ready to haul the high-ranking operative to a jail cell in DC where he can await his trial. He was tired, the strain of therapy and sleepless nights holding him down, but this mission kept him focused.

But when he reached the operative’s office, the target was already slumped over his desk, cold and lifeless.

"Guess I beat you to it, soldier," you said, voice laced with a confidence that made his stomach twist. You let him process the sight of you—fitted black suit, gloved hands, and a smirk that told him you were not only dangerous, but damn well aware of it. A mask obscured your eyes, but even with half of your face covered, he could see how smug you looked.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” he said, voice low.

“Good thing I wasn’t asking for you permission.” You tilted your head, the ghost of a laugh in your voice. You were watching him, sizing him up with those sharp eyes that felt like they could through see every part of him he tried to keep hidden.

“Sergeant James Barnes, right?” You said his name with a familiarity that sent a jolt through him. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Never thought I’d actually run into you, though. Lucky night for me.”

He narrowed his eyes, not trusting this mysterious stranger, though he couldn’t deny he was intrigued. “And you are…?”

“I have no name to claim for myself,” you shrugged, leaning back against the wall, “but people call me Sleeper.” You let the name linger, knowing he’d recognize it.

His memory reeled back to Ayo and the Dora Milaje, who had warned him of you: ruthless, volatile. A ghost who disappeared without a trace, always a step ahead. He’d just never expected Sleeper to be… so easy on the eyes.

“I didn’t ask for your help.” He repeated with no conviction. He narrowed his eyes at the body. “Especially not like this.”

You shrugged, pushing off the wall and strolling over. “Relax, soldier,” your gaze met his, “I only go after the ones who deserve it. Just because I do it my way doesn’t mean I’m the villain here.”

“Still doesn’t make it right,” he muttered, but there was a flicker of curiosity underneath his stormy blue eyes.

“Then stop me,” you challenged softly, leaning close enough to feel his breath. “If you can.”

His breath hitched ever so slightly.

You grinned, a spark of intrigue lighting up in your gaze. “I’ll be waiting, James.”

And before he could respond, you were gone.

He knew he should’ve stopped you— but some part of him was glad he hadn’t.

As you disappeared, he felt something he hadn’t in a long, long time: excitement.

—

From that day on, Bucky couldn’t get you out of his head.

At first, it was frustrating. You were hard to track, ruthless—and yet there was a sickening righteous principle to your actions that he couldn’t deny.

As the weeks went by, something else rooted in his brain when he thought of you. Fascination.

His mind often wandered about you during his quiet, sleepless nights, wondering who you were beneath the mask, beneath the mystery and the whispers.

Sam noticed, of course. He'd raise an eyebrow whenever Bucky lingered too long over case files where you'd been mentioned. He’d nudge if he seemed overly eager to volunteer for missions that involved your typical targets.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky and she’ll show,” Sam teased once, nudging Bucky. “She’s dangerous, though. Is that your type?”

Bucky scoffed, but he knew Sam was right. And maybe that danger was part of what kept him intrigued.

—

The next time you crossed paths, it was in a dark alleyway, both of you dripping with sweat and breathing heavily after taking down an underground fighting ring.

“You know,” he’d said, “killing them doesn’t make it justice.”

“You think turning them in is enough?” Your voice had cut through the air like a knife, but there was no malice behind it. You wanted him to understand your line of thinking, wanted him to know. “People like them are everywhere. They’ll get out. They’ll come back.”

“So you think you get to decide whether they live or die?” he challenged, jaw tight.

“No,” you said, readjusting your mask. “But I do it anyway.” There was a flicker of sadness in your gaze that he noticed, even if you tried to hide it.

What had happened to you? He thought to himself. What have you been through?

In that moment, he noticed the pain behind your eyes, the kind of pain he knew intimately. You weren’t just someone who killed for vengeance; you must have had your reasons. You must have carried scars that ran deep, maybe deeper than his.

—

From that point on, Bucky made it a habit to look for you on every mission. It was like an unspoken game, this cat-and-mouse chase. Every time he saw you, the tension between you grew.

Sometimes, he’d get there first, managing to intercept before you could execute the target. Other times, you’d arrive at the same time. He’d try to talk you out of it, to make you see things his way, but you’d laugh him off, the kind of laugh that hinted at more than your fair share of heartache.

And sometimes, you’d tease him, push boundaries he wasn’t sure he should cross.

“You like this, don’t you, James?” You’d whisper it low, close enough for him to catch your scent, a faint hint of gunpowder and vanilla perfume. “The chase. Getting to play the hero while I get my hands dirty.”

He wanted to deny it, but he couldn’t.

—

Bucky grew obsessed, even if he wouldn’t admit it. Every encounter left him more and more drawn to you. He’d search for files on you for days on end without sleep, but all he found were reports with no concrete evidence. He found himself looking for excuses to track your movements, hoping he’d be there to stop you but not quite sure he wanted to succeed.

One night, after another close call, you leaned into him as he pushed you up against the wall. He could feel the heat radiating off you, the electricity charged in the space between you. You looked up at him, the smallest hint of vulnerability peeking through your mask.

“Why do you keep doing this, James?” you asked, voice softer this time. “You can’t save me.”

“Maybe not,” he replied, frowning as his eyes looked down to the edge of your lips, “but I can try.”

That night, he wondered just how long he could keep up this dance before one of you finally gave in.

—

One night, while you were on a caper in Prague, everything changed for the two of you.

The mission had been bloody, chaotic, and a little too close to mayhem for Bucky’s liking. You had taken down an entire network of arms dealers, setting fire to one of their last remaining munitions blocks and leaving it to burn.

Bucky had arrived too late, frantically trying to contain the chaos you’d left in your wake, alerting local authorities, making sure the flames didn’t spread to a nearby market.

When he caught up to you, adrenaline ran hot through his veins.

He'd followed you through winding streets and up dark staircases, up to the hotel you were holed up in. He followed you into your room, locking you both in.

His voice was tight, anger simmering beneath. “You’re careless.” His blue eyes were striking underneath the european moonlight, “you could’ve taken out half the neighbourhood, and for what?”

“I got the job done, James.” You shrugged, trying to look unbothered. “It’s not pretty, but it works.”

He stepped closer, and you held his gaze, “You know, I’d turn you in if you weren’t so…” he paused, his voice faltering, as if the words were lodged in his throat, “Weren’t so…”

Your pulse quickened. “If I weren’t so what?” You snapped, daring him to finish, to admit what had been hanging between you two since the day you met.

But he didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled you into a fierce, bruising kiss.

You didn’t hesitate—you kissed him back with just as much fire, your hands tangling in his hair.

Bucky’s hands found your waist, fingers digging in with enough pressure to leave marks. He pushed you back until your shoulders hit the wall, lips moving down your jaw, then hot against your neck. His breaths were ragged, matching your own, and he was holding you as if letting go would mean losing control entirely.

You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your lips as his mouth found a sensitive spot on the dip in your collarbone, his hands roaming possessively over your back, down your sides.

You pulled him back to your mouth, desperately needing that connection.

When you finally broke apart for air, his forehead rested against yours. You untied your mask and threw it across the room.

Fuck. he thought as his eyes widened, taking in your full facial features for the first time. You were even more beautiful than I imagined you to be.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he thought to himself, I’m done for.

He was ready to throw you in jail cell. Instead, he ended up in your bed.

That night, in the dim light of your cheap hotel room, clothes were shed in hurried, frustrated movements, and all that pent-up tension finally found its release.

That first time had been desperate, raw. Both of you were driven by the need to let go, to feel something other than the weight of the cold blooded kills and the darkness you both carried.

Ever since then, every time you crossed paths, it was the same: adrenaline-fueled clashes and heated conversations about morality turned into hotel room rendezvous, hands grasping, lips colliding, both of you seeking the kind of solace you could only ever find in each other.

—

You’d never admitted it out loud, but Bucky had an effect on you. When he was around, you found yourself hesitating just that split second longer before slicing your target’s arteries and leaving them to bleed.

You didn’t feel the need to wipe out every enemy anymore, and his disapproval of your methods had started haunting you in ways you’d never expected. Maybe that was why you’d started allowing him to find you more often, taking on jobs you knew he’d be there for.

It was a dangerous game, but you kept playing it. He was obsessed with finding you, and you weren’t about to stop him.

He’d learned to read you better, your patterns, the places you tended to show up. By the time you landed in some city on the opposite end of the globe, he’d be there like clockwork, showing up right before you finished a job, confronting you before you could disappear into the night.

But the nights you spent together were… different.

You never asked about each other’s pasts; you kept it in the here and now, keeping him at a safe distance even as you let him pull you under the covers time and again.

Every time he asked your real name, you’d smile and brush him off, deflecting his curiosity with a kiss or a teasing answer. He didn’t press, but you could see the questions in the way his brow furrowed, could feel the affection in the way he lingered in the mornings after, with a soft smile in his eyes that made your heart beat faster.

Each time, he told himself it was just catharsis, just a release of frustration for both of you, nothing more. But that excuse had worn thin over the years, and Bucky knew it as well as you did.

He knew it wasn’t one sided either. He wasn’t blind to the way you’d look at him as he drifted to sleep next to you. Once, he caught a flicker of something vulnerable in your eyes before you put the walls back up.

And God, was he drawn to you, to the side of you that fought so fiercely, that showed just enough vulnerability to keep him coming back. He was so fucking desperate to understand you better, to see more of the person underneath the mask.

—

One night, after a mission in Manila, you’d both ended up in a small, worn-down cheap hotel room overlooking the city lights. You were leaning against the headrest of the bed, a hint of sweat clinging to your skin, breathing still unsteady as you came down from the high you gave each other.

He watched you, his gaze lingering on the barely-perceptible rise and fall of your chest.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you muttered, voice thick with exhaustion. There was a tremor in your tone, a flicker of something vulnerable that he wasn’t sure you meant for him to hear.

“Like what?” he asked, nuzzling closer to you. His now long hair was tied back in a low bun, your hair tie holding it together because he didn't have one of his own.

“Like you want something from me that I’m too broken to give,” you said, refusing to meet his eyes. But he reached for you, tipping your chin up until you had no choice but to look at him, and there it was—that flicker of affection he knew ran just as deep in you as it did in him.

“Maybe I want it anyway,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with a quiet intensity. “You ever think of that?”

“This is just a release, James.” Your gaze softened for just a second, long enough for him to catch it before you shook your head, pulling yourself from his grasp. “It’s just something we both need.”

Even as you said it, you weren't convinced. He reached for you again, pulling you close, and kissed you because that was the only thing you’d let him do.

You melted into him once more, you found yourself wondering just how much longer you could keep him at arm’s length.

—

The shift in Bucky’s life had been as dramatic as it was unexpected. You’d never pegged him for politics—neither had he, to be fair—but here he was, representing his district, looking sharp in a suit that cost more than the last few hotels you’d met in combined.

He’s upgraded. Freshly elected, polished up, all suited and respectable as a congressman, fighting for reform from a marble office by day and for justice in dark alleys by night.

But tonight, with that half-smile he only gets with you, he’s still the same— still carrying that simmering tension in his lips, his hair tousled from a long night of pursuing you through the shadows.

After a mission that had you both knee-deep in an abandoned bunker hunting a rogue assassin, you found yourself together once again. Only this time, the hotel he’d booked was far from cheap.

He brought you to a five-star suite. The bed was massive, the sheets soft, and the view from the window sprawled out over the city skyline, a stark contrast to the dingy rooms you’d gotten used to.

Now, lying beside him in the rumpled silk sheets, you watched him catch his breath. You moved off of his lap to lay next to him, euphoric from the guilty pleasure you both indulged in.

“You know, the second someone finds out Congressman Barnes has a relationship with a violent vigilante, you’re out of office.”

He looked over at you, eyebrows raised. “Relationship?”

Fuck. He caught you slipping up. He caught you thinking about a relationship with him.

“Casual sex is still a relationship, James.” You shrugged, trying to save face. You turned to him, with a lazy, unconvinced smile, “Strings attached or not, it counts.”

He shifted, the corner of his mouth twitching as he watched your wall break, even if only one brick at a time. “Casual,” His fingers traced idle patterns along your bare shoulder. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

“Unless you’re pretending you don’t want it anymore.” You paused, leaning closer, “Or maybe you just like that I could ruin everything. That I could say one word to the press, post one picture online and your reputation is finished. You’d be back to square one.”

He chuckled, his fingers grazing down your arm. It was terrifying, how comfortable he’d become with you. “I trust that you wouldn’t,” he said softly, voice laced with that steady confidence, like he knows you better than you know yourself.

His declaration hung in the air, and you felt guilt striking in your chest.

This wasn’t supposed to be part of this arrangement. Trust was for partners, for couples, for people who wanted things that lasted.

You shook it off, leaning back, a little smirk tugging at your lips as you lifted a brow. “You’re right. I do have a soft spot for you, Congressman Barnes,” you added, the title rolling off your tongue with a touch of sarcasm, “Consider it my gift to democracy.”

He laughed, letting his head fall back against the pillow. His hand drifted down to catch yours, holding it in a way that felt too natural, too comfortable for what you were supposed to be.

You both knew, despite the banter and the invisible boundaries, this thing between you was already past casual. It was the reason he keeps showing up where you showed up, the reason you’re letting him into your life in ways you never let anyone before. You were both just too stubborn to say it.

He pulled you closer, pressing his lips to yours in a way that feels almost… affectionate. For a moment, you let yourself sink into it, forgetting the consequences, the danger, the fact that this man might just unravel you completely and you would have no say in it whatsoever.

When you pulled back, his fingers trailed over your bare waist. “Maybe it’s more than just a soft spot,” he suggested, his voice barely above a whisper.

You raised an eyebrow, heart beating out of your chest. “Let’s not get sentimental, James,” you brushed, letting your fingers graze his jaw as you murmured, “You’ve got an image to protect, after all.”

He lets out a sigh that’s part laughter, part frustration. He knew you were deflecting. “Right,” he said, brushing his lips against yours again.

“You and your image,” you chuckled, “Out there, shaking hands and making speeches about justice while you sneak off to hotel rooms with someone like me.”

He grinned, not a trace of shame in his expression as he turned his gaze back to you. “Someone’s gotta keep you in line. Even if it takes…” His voice lowered, dropping into that deep, teasing tone that made your stomach knot. “…a hands-on approach.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re the last person who’d ever get me in line, James.” You leaned closer, though you didn't believe a single word you said.

There was a long silence for a while. He eventually reached out, brushing a lock of hair back from your face, his thumb tracing over your cheek.

“Maybe you’re right,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. “Maybe that’s why I keep coming back.”

As the city lights cast a faint glow over the room, you lay there in silence, limbs tangled together in a way that felt a little less no strings attached every time.

—

The next time you meet, you were on a late-night operation on the dark outskirts of the city. You’ve tracked down a group of mercenaries. They’re as ruthless as they were careless, leaving a trail of devastation across the criminal underworld. But tonight, their recklessness will end with you.

You moved through in silence, precise, methodical. One by one, you took them down, not killing, but incapacitating them. Your fists were quick, your strikes precise. It’s what you’ve done for years, a grim pattern of efficiency that never required a second blow. Just as you reached the man who hired them with your knife drawn—a local crime lord—you felt his presence before you saw him.

“Think twice, Sleeper,” Bucky said from behind you.

You froze, heart pounding as you stood over the crime lord begging for mercy. It would be so easy to end this now, but with Bucky watching, you hesitated.

You lowered the knife.

Instead of killing him, you tied him up alongside the other mercenaries, ignoring the questions in their fearful eyes. Bucky made a call, alerting local authorities to pick up the mess you’ve left behind.

“What now?” you asked, walking away from the carnage. You were expecting the usual pattern: another hotel room, a brief reprieve from the violence, nothing more.

But he surprised you, lacing his hand in between your fingers, warm and secure.

He had never, ever, showed affection outside closed doors.

“Come with me.”

—

You didn’t expect Bucky to take you back to his place, but soon you were standing outside a sleek high-rise in the heart of the city. You followed him up to his penthouse apartment. It’s almost disorienting— the polished floors, the floor-to-ceiling windows.

You found yourself standing in the quiet entryway of his home. The walls were painted in light, earthy tones, and the furniture was clean, modern, yet warm.

You glanced around, taking in the small details that hinted at Bucky's life beyond the missions. There were bookshelves lined with novels and memoirs, some old and looked like first editions, others barely touched. A few black-and-white photographs decorated the walls—New York City at dusk, a forest path, a beach sunset. It was an oddly peaceful place for a man like him. Certainly too peaceful for someone as broken as you.

“This is risky, James,” you said, looking up at him as he closed the door behind him “Showing me where you live.”

“No, it's not,” he replied, his conviction absolute. “I trust you.”

There it was again. That word. Trust. The thing you never quite knew what to do with, especially coming from him.

You studied the way his favourite leather jacket was tossed on a chair, a half-read book by the couch. It felt like stepping across an invisible line. You set your mask down on the table before he grabbed your waist and pulled you close.

“This feels like crossing a boundary, James,” you admitted. You knew he should pull back, give you a chance to retreat. But you didn't want him to.

So he didn’t.

Instead, he cupped your face as he tilted your chin up gently. “What boundary?” he asked.

He knew that there were nothing separating you two. Not anymore.

The space between you vanished as his lips met yours. You kissed him back, losing yourself in the process of tasting him. His hands slid to the small of your back, pulling you closer. Kissing him felt like falling— like surrender.

You made your way to his bedroom, bodies tangled together, a blur of heated whispers and gasping breaths. Clothes fell away, discarded like old skin. The way he looked at you, it was like he was memorising every inch of you.

In that moment, you realised: the boundary had never been there. Not for him. Maybe not for you either.

—

The room was quiet as you lay tangled up in Bucky’s sheets. The duvet smelled like him, unlike the neutral, sterile scent of the usual hotel sheets.

You’d never admit it, but it was intoxicating.

The satisfied pulsing in your body had put a hazy filter over everything.

Bucky smiled softly, kissing your forehead before reaching to his bedside drawer, pulling out a small glass box, placing it gently on your palm.

"Here," he murmured, almost shyly. He opened the box to reveal a hair tie inside.

Oh. You recognised it. The ends were a bit frayed, the colour faded.

It was the hair tie you’d given him in Manila, a lifetime ago, a little piece of you that he’d tucked away in a corner of his home

You blinked, caught off guard. "You still have that?"

He shrugged, but his eyes wouldn’t meet yours. Was he… embarrassed? "I thought it was... worth keeping."

"Careful, James,” you couldn't help but tease him, nuzzling closer into his arms. “Keep this up and you might just start falling in love with me."

You felt his breath hitch.

He looked up, finally. Nervously.

Instead of denying it, he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, warm whisper. "Would that be so bad?"

His fingers brushed against yours, sending a shiver through your spine. Your heart fluttered irregularly, your head spinning in a daze as you tried to keep your thoughts down.

No.

You couldn’t let him see that he was getting to you like this, so you did what you always did: you deflected, grinning forcefully and rolling your eyes.

"Yeah, right," you said, brushing off the moment. As much as it broke your heart to deny the truth, you were doing it for his sake and yours. "I'm not that easy to love, James."

He chuckled softly, the warmth of his breath brushing your skin as he pulled you closer, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. "Maybe that's why I do."

You shifted away from him, wrapping yourself in the sheets as if they could shield you from what he was offering — and from the ache in his gaze.

"We can’t…" you said, voice barely above a whisper. "We can’t do this."

Bucky's eyes darkened, but he would be alright. He expected this from you.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to collect himself. You could see the struggle in his eyes, the battle between his desire for you and something else… there was something bigger.

"I need to tell you something," he said quietly. “I have… a team.”

That caught you off guard.

Bucky? On a team? He’d always seemed like a lone wolf, just like you.

“There’s a couple of former Widows, who you’d get along with. Two other super soldiers. And someone who can… phase. Quantum experiment gone wrong.” He paused, “We’re trying to make something real here. And it’s missing someone.” His fingers trailed down your forearm, eventually clasping your palm in his, “It’s missing you.”

He pushed a strand of hair behind your ears, trailing your jawline delicately with his metal hand, “I need you.”

The invitation went unanswered for a moment. You swallowed, caught off-guard by how badly he seemed to want this, how he wanted you to be part of it.

“I work alone, James,” you said, brushing off the offer with a small, bitter smile. “You know that.”

“But why not?” His voice was barely more than a whisper. “Why won’t you let someone else in for once?”

The frustration in his tone was raw, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of pain flash across his face from this rejection.

“This is your chance to do something good the right way,” he pressed, and there was a quiet urgency in his voice. “No more hunting down bad guys with no direction. No more living like you’ve got nothing left to lose.”

His words sank in, and your walls felt shakier than ever. The idea of leaving the past behind, of actually building something… you hadn’t let yourself imagine it in years.

“Just think about it,” he said softly, placing his forehead on yours. “You don't have to decide now. Just… consider it.”

You gave a noncommittal shrug, but the truth was that his offer echoed in your mind, louder than you wanted to admit. He smiled at your dismissiveness, recognizing the crack in your armour. He didn’t push further.

You realised that for the first time in a long time, you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to say no.

—

The next time you saw Bucky was in the middle of a mission neither of you had wanted.

Just a week had passed since you’d spent the night in his apartment. Since then, you had told yourself you shouldn’t return. You couldn’t. You were getting too close, feeling too much.

It was getting dangerous.

But then Bucky had reached out to you, voice tight and desperate, the kind of desperation that stripped away all his pride. It was a vulnerability even you hadn't seen from him before. His team was in over their heads, he’d said. He needed you.

You’d agreed to help, but you’d been careful to remind him that this was a one-time thing. One mission, and that was it.

But then everything went wrong.

It happened so fast, you barely understood how everything had gone wrong.

You were with Bucky, fighting side-by-side, the two of you moving as if connected by some invisible thread.

You had taken a blow, separating you from everyone else. You tried standing up but fuck! The impact had shattered your ankle, sending a searing pain through your leg. Your nerves were on fire in a way they had never been before.

You couldn't move.

You couldn't get up. Couldn’t run.

And then the ground shifted, an explosion roared from behind, and the next thing you knew, a van was thrown across the road, hurtling straight toward you.

For a single, frozen heartbeat, you realised this was it.

It was over.

You saw the faces of bystanders staring from the sidewalk, their eyes wide, too horrified to look away. You let go of the cold steel of your knife still gripped in your hand. The acrid taste of smoke on your tongue intensified. And the truck—a wall of twisted metal hurtling closer, closer, impossibly fast.

You’d spent so many years brushing so close to death that you always thought you’d be ready.

But now, all you felt was regret.

Regret that this was how you’d die: in the middle of a cold, empty street, surrounded by strangers who would never remember you, never know who you were or what you’d done.

Alone.

You thought of Bucky in those last seconds—his quiet smiles, the way he’d look at you like he could see through every wall you put up, the silent crutch he’d offered without expecting anything in return. Bucky, who’d trusted you, who’d somehow cared for you even after everything you’d done.

For the first time, you felt regret for every life you’d taken, every person you’d left to die in your wake.

Your life had been nothing but survival and bloodshed. You had told yourself it was necessary, that it was the only way. But here, now, with your own death inches away, it all felt hollow.

You’d given up hope, abandoned the idea of redemption long ago—because you were too broken.

And yet, with Bucky, something had changed. He had looked at you and somehow seen past it all. He��d made you feel as if maybe, just maybe, you were something more than the ghost you’d become. Maybe, instead of running, you could have found a way to fight for something real, something that mattered.

Maybe you could have been someone better.

You would never know now.

The world narrowed, and you braced yourself for the inevitable, hoping it would be quick and painless. Your fingers tightened, clinging to the memory of him in those last, precious seconds as you waited to feel the impact—

But it never came.

Instead, there was a rush of air, a deafening crash, and then—silence. You blinked, dazed, your heart still hammering, and when you looked up, Bucky was standing there, his metal arm outstretched, braced against the van that he’d deflected away.

He turned to face you, his expression raw, worry carved deep into his features as he scanned you, checking for injuries. For a moment, he just stared, his breathing uneven, as if he’d been the one facing certain death.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice panicked.

You tried to answer, but the words tangled, caught in your throat. You managed a nod, barely able to process what had just happened.

“Shit,” he kneeled next to you, “Is your ankle broken, can you walk?”

You stared at him, trembling as he tore a part of his shirt and wrapped it around your injury for support.

Bucky had saved you. He had thrown himself in front of a hurtling vehicle without a moment of hesitation, as if your life were worth that sacrifice.

He had saved you.

You were alive because of him.

Alive, when you’d already accepted that you were going to die alone.

No one had ever done that for you. No one had ever saved you—not like this, not without asking anything in return. Hell, you never thought that you deserved to be saved.

“You’re okay, Sleeper,” he said, his voice softer now, like he was reassuring himself as much as you. “I’m here.”

His words settled into the cracks that had broken open inside you, filling them in ways you hadn’t thought possible. You hadn’t realised how empty you’d felt until now, how long you’d carried the weight of loneliness, of believing that this life—this endless, solitary fight—was all you deserved.

Bucky made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to be alone. That maybe, even after all you’d done, there was a place for you outside the shadows.

“Don’t call me that,” your voice trembled, “I don’t want you to call me Sleeper anymore.”

Bucky stopped for a second, confused. “What do you want me to call you, then?”

You couldn’t hold it back anymore. Something inside you broke, raw and vulnerable, and the name you’d hidden for years slipped from your lips before you even realised it. Your real name—your last, fragile piece of self you’d kept locked away, hoping one day you’d be able to reclaim it.

It felt right with Bucky, like you could trust him with it, like you could let yourself be seen.

Bucky’s eyes widened, his face softening as he repeated it, almost reverent, like he wanted to remember how it felt to say it.

Hearing him say your name, like a prayer, like it was sacred, like it mattered— tore down whatever walls you had left. He’d given you something you didn’t know you could have: the feeling of belonging to yourself again. The feeling of belonging to the world again.

Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers shaking. He moved, pulling you closer. His touch was grounding, steady—a lifeline that anchored you to the moment, to this fragile reality where you didn’t have to be alone anymore.

You pressed your lips to his, but this kiss was different— it wasn't casual or sexual as it has always been. This time, it was gentle, carrying something other than desire, something precious and fragile.

Something worth nurturing.

When you finally pulled away, he looked at you lovingly.

“I’ll join you,” you said, the words coming from some deep part of you that had been waiting for someone to give you this chance, this choice.

Now you realised that this choice was yours all along. All you had to do was take it.

And you did, because maybe, instead of running from yourself, you could find a way to make things right. Maybe you could fight for something greater than yourself.

For the first time, wrapped in Bucky’s embrace, you believed that maybe you could be someone worth saving.

—

A month later, you were all gathered around a small campfire, tucked away in a quiet corner of nowhere.

The night was cool, the fire warm, and laughter bubbled up from the group as you shared bits and pieces of each other's lives.

“Team bonding,” John had said.

John passed around a nearly empty bag of marshmallows, Alexei poked at the fire, and Yelena and Ava exchanged eye rolls at everyone else’s antics, though they leaned closer together under the same blanket.

Eventually, the conversation drifted, as it often did, to you and Bucky.

“So… how did the Winter Soldier and Sleeper even meet?” Yelena asked, raising an eyebrow as she threw another marshmallow into her mouth.

The moniker you had adopted still twisted in your stomach every time you heard it, but it had lost its edge. This time, you felt in control. Like you owned it.

"I have theories,” Alexei nodded, crossing his arms, “but I have to know."

You shared a look with Bucky, a small smile creeping on both your faces. “There was a Hydra agent we were both after.” you began, biting back a frown. “And… well, I was angrier back then.”

He placed his arm on yours, a comforting gesture.

“You wanted him alive,” you said. “I had… different ideas.”

“After that—” Bucky wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “—She was all I could think about. I kept showing up wherever she was, trying to figure her out.”

“So basically,” John said, trying to hold back a laugh, “Bucky is a bit of a stalker.”

“A stalker?” Bucky echoed incredulously, “I think the word you’re looking for is ‘dedicated.’”

“No, no,” Ava interjected, “you followed her everywhere did you not? ‘Stalker’ is the right word, Barnes.”

“Fine,” he admitted jokingly, “But what can I say? It was love at first sight.”

Yelena gagged theatrically and John clutched his stomach in a fit of laughter.

Alexei just chuckled and muttered something about “American romance.” Ava made a face, disgusted but secretly amused.

You couldn’t help but laugh along with them, leaning against Bucky’s shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. You could see him out of the corner of your eye, looking down at you with a quiet smile.

In some way, this still felt too good to be real.

For the first time, you realized you’d found exactly what you’d been missing all along. A home. Maybe even the closest thing you’ve ever had to a family.

A place where you belonged.

And you knew, looking at all of them—especially at Bucky—that this was just the beginning.

-end

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gojobbg · 1 day ago

Text

friction | reader (f) x crush!nanami pt. 8

pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami

synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.

warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)

a/n: AHHH im so sorry i was gone for so long! work and school and i got sick again. my luck lately has been quite poor, but here's the next part!! i dont think its quite well written but i hope you all think its good! thank u again for ur support, kindness, and patience :) (sorry i say thank you so much, cant help myself!)

all parts: pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6, pt.7,

December | Tokyo, Japan | Wednesday

You should have worn more lotion.

The unkind cold and threatening winds made your trek to work excruciatingly more difficult. Surely you made it, but had to get blind by the flurries of snow in the process. You take your time in the lobby, stomping aggressively down at the weather mats to remove all the snow and ice from your boots. You shake yourself like a wet dog to get the snow off your coat, too. The lobby men chuckle at you, and you couldn’t help but smile.

It’s been rough to do so, after all. Considering you got rejected twice by the same man, you needed all the serotonin you could get. You spent hours crying, which only halted when you finally passed out. The heartbreak exhausted you, given how dark your eyes were, and how hollow your chest has felt since then. The worst part about all of it is that despite everything, you still had Nanami’s coffee in mind.

It floated in your mind to go to the cafe and get him a cup. But you have to remember that he has other assistants who know his coffee order now. You were now one of few who knew it.

To have your relationship seen as just boss/assistant by the other participant felt like punishment. A large sigh left your lips when you exited the elevator on your floor. Shivers tickled your body as you begrudgingly walked over to your desk. It was warm in the office, enough for you to take solace in.

You begin to turn on your computer and prepare your desk, before being interrupted by two hands slamming down your desk. You look up to find a panting (and exhausted) Haibara. “Yu?” You whisper worriedly. “Is everything okay?”

“He lost the flashdrive,” Haibara lets out. “The presentation… it’s missing.”

Your eyes widen, “Nanami? But… how?” Of all people, Nanami was never one to lack in anything, especially in organization. He was always sharp and aware of where all his things were. You never had to concern yourself with assignments getting lost because Nanami is too diligent.

“We– we um, drank last night…?” Haibara reluctantly confesses. “We both got home quite late… he might not have his whole head on.”

Without another word, you swiftly leave your desk and rush over to Nanami’s office, with Haibara following closely behind. On your way towards his office, you see all of Takada’s assistants outside of his office, their expressions full of concern. You make your way through them and knock on his door gently.

“What?” Nanami’s annoyed tone rang through the door.

“It’s Y/N,” you reply, ignoring his attitude.

Quick shifting was sound behind the door before the doorknob began to turn. The door opens to reveal a disheveled Nanami. Despite his usually refined features, his unkempt hair and unbutton shirt was quite distracting. The shadows line his collarbone and the darkness under his eyes add to the intensity in his struggling, hazel eyes. He leaned against the door frame, his eyes slightly lighting up from your presence. There was some sort of relief in his eyes, but it was still drowned out by anxiety.

“Please, please tell me you have a copy?” Nanami practically begs.

You feel a lump in your throat from seeing his desperation. Not even you can be dismissive to his plea. “I–I was instructed not to keep an extra copy. It’s confidential, so I didn’t…”

Nanami let out a quiet ‘fuck,’ retreating slowly back towards his desk. “Don’t worry, I’m not upset with you. I’m upset with myself because you’re right and I’m simply irresponsible…” He leans back against his desk, defeatedly holding himself up with his hands firmly down on the desk behind him. He looks distantly to the floor, a sight you never thought you’d ever see.

The confident, sharp Nanami was now at his wits’ end.

“Do you remember when you last had it?” You ask quietly.

“I had it in my coat pocket on my way here,” he recalls quietly, “I still had it when I got off the train, so it must be outside around the area.”

“But with all that snow…” Haibara begins, the defeat clearly on his tongue.

You let out a sigh, emitting a calm apology before dismissing yourself. Once you were out of sight, you ran towards the elevator, practically beating the button until it arrived to you. You impatiently wait as you descend, your body already feeling the cold from outside. Even maintenance couldn’t believe their eyes as they watched you run out from the lobby, and into the harsh weather.

It was a bit embarrassing for you. You were always there to fix Nanami’s scarce mistakes, or prevent them. Even after he broke your heart twice, here you are, outside in the freezing cold, without any garments to protect you from it. You could feel your body beginning to go numb from the seconds you were outside.

Your exposed legs were inches deep in the snow, your frigid hands sifting desperately through the snow. Why? You asked yourself. Why, why, why? You were freezing, the weather was harsh, and this flash drive is as small as a roach. Why were you doing all of this?

As you shoveled through the snow, you were finally able to feel how you were feeling after facing Nanami again. You were able to keep yourself from crying, but you wanted to cry profusely. Your boss, your crush, was stressed out over a mistake he made, and it didn’t even make you feel better. Unfortunately, your feelings were too weaved into his, and you felt the stress he is feeling.

It bothered you to see him stressed. So much so, your body moved on its own and now it was in the cold, looking for the solution to Nanami’s problem. You didn’t even stay idle for a moment while in his office. Perhaps, the reason why you were helping him was because since you met Nanami, he has always been someone to work for his team.

But you know for sure part of it was that you never want to see him like that again.

Taking on projects on his own to keep his other colleagues working in low piles. Working with clients he personally isn’t a fan of to make sure the company grows. Providing breakfast and lunch when important meetings arise to make sure everyone at least eats well before torturous work. He was strict, but never a mean person. And to that end might explain why you still felt the way you did.

However,

Your respect for him goes above your feelings. A hard piece of plastic was barely felt between your fingers, but they were able to hold onto it firmly. The small flash drive, covered in a bit of snow, still glowed green when you pushed up to reveal the USB. You promptly make your way back in, the warmth barely penetrating the cold you developed while being outside.

I’m gonna get sick, you thought to yourself. As you passed through the lobby, you noticed Nanami’s clients getting checked in at the lobby. You hurry to the elevator, pushing aggressively at the close button so they didn’t have a chance to get there at the same time you did. You move your legs in place, attempting to regain some warmth. While you ascended, you purposely pushed the buttons of the floors you passed to delay their arrival. Finally reaching your level, you rush out to go to the other free elevator. As you did, you were met with a concerned Haibara.

“H-hey!” Haibara calls to you, but you ignore him and shove the flash drive into his hand. But as you did, he noticed that you were frozen and kept his hands around yours. “You… found it? Did you go outside? Without a coat? Y/N, you’re freezing!”

Oh, how you wished you fell for Haibara instead. You pull away your hand, quickly entering the other elevator and slamming your hands on the buttons. You look up at Haibara, your bottom lip blue and quivering. “Take it to Nanami,” you say roughly, your voice hoarse from the little warmth in your body. “Your clients. They’re downstairs. Hurry up.”

Haibara holds onto your arms, noticing that you could barely keep yourself up, “yeah, fuck the clients. You look like you’re going to pass out.”

“Please,” you look up at him desperately, tears welling in your eyes. It was already enough that you felt stupid for even looking for the flashdrive in this state. But even Haibara couldn’t push away the hurt and stress in your own eyes. “I’ll be fine… please help Nanami finish this.”

“Let me at least walk you to your desk–”

“I got her!” You both look over to see Tae run over, his apron dancing left and right from not being properly tied in the back. He quickly takes hold of you, looking up at Haibara to give him a curt nod in replacement of a proper bow. “Resume your work, Haibara-sama. I can tend to her.”

Tae held you close enough that you could feel his warmth. It was intoxicating almost, the solace of his heat and the scent of pine needles emanating from his body. The fresh scent of linen coming from his black sweatshirt made you feel a little nostalgic but uneasy. You could still feel the cold taking you over, your entire body shivering. His hands firmly held you without squeezing you tightly.

Haibara looks down skeptically, but you wave at him. “Please go,” you croak, coughs finally leaving your throat. “I’ll be fine.” You could see that you didn’t quite persuade him, but for the sake of Nanami, he nodded.

He eyes Tae, a rare serious aura surrounding him, “get her to a doctor if she needs it. I’ll be back as soon as the presentation ends. Please make her something hot, like hot cocoa or soup.” Tae nods, allowing Haibara to run back towards Nanami, who was probably drowning in his own anxiety.

“‘m sorry to inconvenience you like this, Tae,” you whisper, your body still shaking and twitching from the cold. “But thank you for that.”

“No worries, please don’t exert yourself,” Tae softly warns. He tightens his hold on you before slowly walking you over to the cafe. Though you didn’t have enough trust to close your eyes, you did have enough to hold his sweater, confident that he won’t let you fall. “Let me help you. After all, you helped me first. Come, the cafe is just around the corner.”

The relief on Nanami’s face was truly meant to be displayed in a museum.

He held onto the flashdrive tightly, mentally scolding himself from ever dropping it in the first place. He forces it into the projector, and everything was set up for the clients to come in moments. He noticed that the flash drive was not only still cold, but slightly wet. “Was it outside in the snow?”

Haibara nods as he fixes up the conference table a bit. It was ornate with drinks, snacks, and notetaking items for their clients to use and enjoy. “The snow is really growing by the inch out there. This winter is brutal.”

“It truly is unkind out there,” Nanami sighs, his eyes looking through the window. “I hope you grabbed your coat before going out there.”

Haibara shakes his head, “it wasn’t me who found the flashdrive; it was Y/N. I caught her at the elevator, and she was the one who handed it to me.”

Nanami slightly perks up at your name, “did she really?”

“She left straight from your office to go find it,” Haibara says quietly, “but she didn’t even bring a sweater. She was completely frozen when I saw her.”

This left a pit in Nanami’s stomach. “Why did she not bring a coat? She’s more rational than that.”

Haibara lets out a sigh, “who’s to say, Kento. Y/N works very hard to do right by you and this company. I think she’d do whatever it takes in order to make sure you and this department shines.”

“Disregarding her health is not why she’s here,” Nanami huffs strictly. “Where is she?”

“I left her with the barista you hired,” Haibara informs, “my guess is he took her to the cafe to warm her up.”

Nanami’s eyes cut over to Haibara, burning through his soul. Despite this, Haibara still didn’t see his eyes. “You left her with a stranger?”

“A stranger you hired,” Haibara clarifies. “Anyways, Y/N insisted I come help you. I’d probably make her feel worse if I didn’t.”

There was a rare annoyance that Nanami never felt. You were always conscious of yourself, and others. Nanami always noticed when you would help someone with a large pile of papers, or when you applied bandages to blisters due to your heels. But more times than not, you never shied away from a challenge, and never hesitated to help someone whether they asked or not.

But now you were far from him, and he couldn’t do anything to help you. He had this stupid presentation to do, rather than be by your side and tend to you. After all, you truly were the reason behind his success. The reason for his reduced stress, and a direct asset to his department. You did so much for him, only to be given a shred of that effort. He was feeling guilty, not only for being unaware of his feelings towards you, but the immense disregard he had for your own feelings and effort in this company.

You were his dear assistant, and he was breaking you.

“I’ll be back,” Nanami hums, rushing out of the conference room. Haibara looks back and follows right behind him, surprised by his sudden dash.

Nanami, the meeting!” Haibara calls out to him, “you can’t do this right now!”

His response was silence as he reached the corner towards the cafe. As he appears in the opening, his hazel eyes relentlessly looked for you. But when he stumbled upon you, his concern and annoyance skyrocketed.

You were lying on one of the couches at the cafe, surrounded by a few of the baristas there. They all comforted you, as you lay under a few blankets. But Nanami noticed that below all of that, you were covered by a large, black crewneck. On your head, a beanie as well. And sat on a stool right in front of you with a hot coffee cup was Tae, the barista he hired. Nanami noticed the warmth in his eyes when he looked down at you, with a free hand out to you. Your boss felt a lump in his throat when he saw you take his hand, helping you sit up to take the cup from him. Tae kept his hand on the bottom of the cup while you sipped it cautiously.

His chest felt like someone was pushing it down, his breath was limited. His heart, at the same time, was punching against it as well, almost as if it was going through a two-front war. He looks down at his hands, adjusting the sleeves at both of his wrists. He needed to reach you– sooner rather than later. And now looked like the perfect opportunity.

But before he could take another step, the elevator behind him opened, and the entourage of clients he was expecting stood before him, all smiles. Haibara catches up and pats Nanami’s back, forcing him to turn around as they both curtly bow in greeting. A vein protruded Nanami’s temple, and Haibara looked back to see what he was looking at.

What he saw made him crack a small smile, his energy returning to him as he led the clients and an annoyed Nanami towards the conference room.

Taglist: [Now Closed]

@blossomedfloweroflove @numblytemporary @everyoneandtheirmothers @animechick555 @inthedarkshadows000

@m-arj-1 @julk4e @hadassery @swoozleee @angxlsatvrn

@v1x3n @s-witch-bitch @furgusonn @watyousayin @thechaoticarchivist

@simp-manhwa @5sos-wdw @ffyona1214 @phantombaby @evangel44xxcds

@ukiyodestiny @jasminelee324 @eurydxceorphxus @moonlightazriel @s3rp3ntsssc0ve

@dusty-dweller @wifenanami @bokuatsubro @ayesayman @starry-eyed--dreamer

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nananmi kento #jjk x reader #nanami fanfic #nanami x reader #kento nanami #nanami smut #jujutsu nanami

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stardust-in-my-mind-blog · 2 days ago

Text

I always feel pretty dumpy after getting dumped. Tonight was no different. I decided to walk the grounds one last time, and the tranquil beauty of the gardens seemed extra mean somehow. Like I was walking through something beautiful that I never even got a chance to miss. No chance to enjoy. Just rejection. Again. And the same message, though at least this time they tried to be kind about it.

Please never practice magic like that again. Bards were mages until you were too good at singing. Then things got suspicious to the headmasters. Song could be such a powerful tool and manipulate people across the field the way that death could. Put death and song together and humans always got so uncomfortable. And when it came to humans, nothing was more unlucky than a sweet death. They say the way they want to die is old and in bed surrounded by their families but...it's never true. Every single one of them secretly yearns for some kind of glory in their hearts, and it just rots and rots and rots as they age. I'd know. I'm human too. But I'm also banshee and people can just feel it. Especially those who are academically inclined. In some cultures they saw us as prophets... until they learned that the angels sing in our ears and fall out of our throats. Also people only like the idea of prophets. Tell them enough future truth and they start looking for the matches and rope. Or a crucifix.

Bewitchment. Enchantment. Manipulation. No one wants to invite a banshee to the table where everyone is sweet and happy and alive with rosy cheeks and laughing eyes.

I'm an omen. It's kind of lonely. But I get it. I suppose if I were someone else I'd feel the same.

I found myself in a gazebo near the tallest of the little sculpted waterfalls in this garden. I liked the way the water sang and flowed as it poured itself over the rocks. It was summer, so there were fireflies, and I could get back to being lost in my thoughts a bit as I watched the way they all twinkled around each other. My son used to say they were all teleporting. I laughed at him, kissed the top of his head, and earmarked that for later because that might be something he ends up being keen at. My daughter used to say she had the power of the forest when she was very young, and gods if she couldn't tell you exactly what creatures were thinking when they wanted something. The more specific the better with my daughter.

I shifted, crossing my legs over each other and anchoring my elbows on the wooden railing and letting my chin fall heavily into my palms. I closed my eyes and breathed slowly, trying to catch and understand the direction and pattern to the way the wind blew tonight. The air smelled like roses and jasmine and I looked up to see the little white flowers hanging from their vines right above me. There were lanterns of golden light and everything felt smoky and indigo. A moonlit darkness that was so easy to see around but too misty to see through.

Was it the song, I wondered? I replayed the interview in my mind. I've been learning how to perform on a stage and have gotten to this point where I fall fully into the music. I don't let my mind control the song anymore, but trust my heart to attune and express it authentically. Sometimes my heart sounds drunk or bitter. Sometimes it sounds like delight and perfection. Today... I couldn't remember. I'd found that I could trick people into thinking maybe I was some sort of reformed cleric turned bard if I sang religious songs. Today I considered a shanty because those work too. But in the end I settled on a lullaby and at first everyone looked peaceful and happy but then that look came into their eyes when they realized where they were and what was going on.

Someone told me once that it was frightening to find yourself suddenly disarmed, especially if being vulnerable wasn't something you were used to being with people. I saw that happen in real time today, and suddenly understood what he meant.

Yay, more awareness.

That brought a bit of temper to my system so I stood up and walked over to the stream to sit down. The grass was wet but I didn't care. I took off my shoes and put them into the water that ran clear and cold over a stone bottom. It was deep enough to cover my ankles. I put my palms to the earth behind me, took a deep breath, and let my head fall back as I sighed it out.

I was so fucking disappointed.

But, I'd still done it. I took the chance. I learned something. All of it sucked. I'd maybe built a few sandcastles in my mind about how my life would fit into the routine that school would have brought me. I let myself sit and grieve what was never mine but still felt lost to me. I imagined the tide of this rejection crushing all the sandcastles in one giant wave. I felt my emotions rise out of my heart, making my throat sore, took another deep breath, and sighed as I let the tears release the sadness and flow down my cheeks like the current at my feet.

Fuck, I really really wanted something else to happen. I wanted the outcome I wanted. And I didn't want any other outcome. I didn't want to go to another school. I didn't want to look at other schools. I didn't want to be a bard if I couldn't go to this school. I didn't want anything.

My body shook with a little sob as my shoulders slumped back.

I didn't want anything ever again and-

Suddenly I was laughing, and I just collapsed. I laughed and cried at the same time and rolled around in the grass. If I was going to be a fucking child like this about this I was going to commit and be a child. My heart was broken a little bit and the grass was so wet and awful but it smelled so good. I closed my eyes and cursed as I realized my hair was going to be wet now that I did this and...

There was a cough and a "Ma'am?"

I froze like a rabbit. Then I closed my eyes tighter just in case this was a dream and I could escape the inevitable embarrassment of someone from the school that rejected me seeing me rolling around in the grass like an animal. The moments clicked by awkwardly and I didn't cut to the next scene, so I opened my eyes to face the music.

Security guard. Handsome. I always liked a man in uniform. Flirting was not going to help me escape embarrassment but it could make this story more interesting. As though he were reading my mind, his face darkened with an expression that read plainly don't even try it. Great, a challenge. The only thing I can't resist. His arms crossed as we both seemed to take in each other's character in this particular moment. He scowled deeper.

I sat up like a naughty child and patted at my hair, then shook it out like a dog would. He was watching closely. My head tilted to the side and I beamed angelically. "Sorry, you caught me making grass angels," I chirped merrily.

In order to be admitted to a magic school potential students only need to provide irrefutable proof that they are mages, yet, despite your very obvious abilities, you were rejected with a comment asking you to "please never practice magic again".

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becausebuckley · 1 day ago

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michelle's buddie fic recs: week 45!

what a week... i'm greatly enjoying all of the post-8x06 buddie fic (many more recs to come!) and took some time to revisit old favourites, which can be found in previous rec lists. enjoy!

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

all that we need | not1_2write | 26.4k | M

When Buck buys a Powerball lottery ticket he doesn't think much beyond his need for change to air up his tire. He forgets all about the ticket until word spreads that the winning ticket was sold in LA and hasn't been claimed yet and pretty much dismisses it. After all, there's no way he won the lottery. Turns out no, he really did win the Powerball, to the tune of 295 million dollars and just in time for Christmas. He's going to make sure the 118 has the best Christmas of their lives. And just maybe he'll have a good one too. idk about all of you but i do dream about winning the lottery regularly (way too often for someone who's never bought a ticket, that's for sure). this is such a lovely look at what buck would do with a whole lot of money <3

i take this magnetic force of a man | playinginthunderstorms/@playinginthunderstorms | 9k | M

Turns out, he isn’t actually afraid of commitment. He’s just afraid of committing to the wrong thing, or the wrong person. Ana, obviously, had been a mistake, because he hadn’t been ready, and he’d put other people’s expectations above his own wants and needs. With Marisol, he’s done the same thing. Moved too fast, doing what he thinks is the right thing according to who? His parents? For Chris’s benefit? Again, pushing past his own comfort, discarding any doubt because it doesn’t fit like… Like Buck. blanket rec for one of my favourite authors who has been posting incredible fics lately!! this one in particular is so beautifully written and so romantic and just so very buddie <3

if i need to rearrange my particules i will for you | thelikesofus/@thelikesofus | 7.9k | GA

Eddie catches a cold and Buck takes care of him while having a minor, non-platonic emotional crisis. this is definitely influenced by the fact that i've been ill myself but wow truly nothing hits as hard as buddie taking care of each other when one of them isn't feeling well. the bed sharing in this is so good <3

let me | facewithoutheart/@facewithoutheart | 1.6k | T

Eddie doesn't think he needs romance. Buck, respectfully, disagrees. AKA the fic where Buck picks Eddie up and kisses him breathless against a wall. and buck is so right for doing that!! i love it when buck turns eddie to jello <3 so lovely!

second child, restless child | lesbianrobin/@lesbianrobin | 23k and counting| M

how Evan and Maddie make it out of Pennsylvania, and Buck and Maddie build a family. okay so listen these past few weeks i've been doing this thing where i only rec finished fics, and every time i scroll through my ao3 history for these rec lists, i come across this one and go oh i wish i could rec this already. and then i realised wait it's my rec list i can do whatever i want, and so then i did. anyway, mind the tags for this one, but wow are you in for a treat here! i love the character dynamics (chim is brilliant in this!! and maddie!!) and i'm so so excited to see the rest of this fic unfold <3

said that i was fine, said it from my coffin | justhockey/tumblr | 7.3k | T

And it doesn’t matter that he feels like he’s dying. Like the version of himself that he’s always been is suddenly a stranger to him - just a mask he’d spent his entire life hiding behind, without ever even realising he was wearing it. It doesn’t matter that Eddie is…that he’s gay. Because he knows - as surely as he knows that the sun will rise again tomorrow - that the only person he has ever, and will ever, truly love is Buck. And Buck isn’t his to love. another blanket rec for an author who's been posting incredible fics!! this one in particular has such brilliant eddie characterisation and i just devoured it the second i got that little ao3 email hehe

there's no place like home-spun | icewhisper | 4.1k | GA

Buck has spent most of his life trying to find something to settle fidgeting hands and the restless need for a home. He found the key to the latter when he was thirteen. He finds the former in a cozy home on South Bedford Street with two of his favorite people. (AKA the Buck-crochets fic that literally no one asked for.). this fic makes me want to learn how to crochet. i am the least crafty person ever and i have like minus time but just know that if two weeks from now i'm posting about yarn and crochet hooks and whatnot, it's all thanks to this fic. i love buck who crochets so very much <3

you get your dreams for free | llovely/@butchdiaz| 14.9k | T

five times buck and eddie cuddle drunk and one time they cuddle sober. buddie bed sharing my absolute favourite. i read this late at night curled up under three blankets and it hit just right <3

#a bit of a shorter list than usual cause i've been rereading previously recced stuff #makes me so glad i have a masterlist spreadsheet so i don't have to dig through old posts to see what's been recced before #buddie #buddie fic #buddie fic rec #911 abc #911 fic #911 fic rec #michelle’s recs #fic rec list

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skyloftian-nutcase · 2 days ago

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Four sighed, taking a sip of his beer as he looked at the embers glowing and crackling in Time’s fire pit. “I hate seeing people in pain and not being able to do anything about it.”

Sky glanced at his friend, wondering where that statement came from. Nobody said anything for a moment, and then Legend piped up.

“Yet you chose to work in a surgical-trauma ICU where everyone is in pain all the time,” he quipped with a little playful smirk to take the edge of the sarcasm.

Warriors snickered, leaning back in his chair, beer bottle held lazily between his fingers. Sky almost laughed at the sight of it, recalling that he and Hyrule had been refilling the bottle with water after their friend’s first drink. The army nurse hadn’t commented on the matter.

“Oh shut up,” Four laughed as well. “I know I set myself up for this. But I… I wanted to help. And I wanted to do nursing that made me feel like I was thinking through puzzles and able to focus on as few patients as possible so I could really get into taking care of things. And I like the thrill of it. But…”

He trailed off a moment, looking around at the group relaxing by the fire pit. Twilight paused briefly in the act of throwing another log on the fire, glancing at Four, before finishing the action, sending sparks showering into the air briefly. Time and Malon watched Four quietly, bundled together under a plaid blanket, Malon’s head on Time’s shoulder. Warriors perked up from his slumped position, head tilting towards the ICU nurse while Legend’s playful smile faded. Wild and Wind paused from eating their s’mores to give Four their attention while Hyrule sat up from where he’d been laying in a burrito of blankets on the grass.

Sky watched Four try to ask what he wanted, and as much as he wanted to prompt his friend he knew to wait.

“Does it ever get better?” Four finally asked. “The compassion fatigue. I’ve only been in nursing a short while and I can already feel it. Am… am I done?”

Sky bit his tongue, remembering when he’d asked Legend a similar question. But Sky had been through a war and had been flying sick, injured, and dying patients for years now. Four was still a fairly new nurse, wasn’t he?

He supposed it didn’t matter. Everyone’s exposure and experience was different. Four very clearly was uneasy about this.

Warriors spoke up first, sitting up. “It comes and goes, buddy.”

“Sometimes you just have to stop and remember they’re people,” Legend added. “We… you know, when everyone’s worst day is your workday you have to shut it off. It’s not…”

“We have to protect ourselves,” Sky picked up for his dear friend. “We suffer when they suffer. But if you let it get to you then you can’t focus on helping them. You’re not a bad person for doing that. For…”

Well. Were they bad people for feeling nothing when their patients were in pain?

Honestly, Sky knew there wasn’t a single person in this group who felt absolutely nothing. They just redirected what they felt into something else. Dark jokes to make a bad situation funny, frustration to turn strong emotions into rambling with coworkers… they all felt it somehow.

But it did make it hard to remember who they were taking care of sometimes.

Sky was grateful he just flew his helicopter. He wasn’t sure he could tolerate much more exposure than that, honestly.

“I don’t know if it ever gets better,” Warriors finally said. “It’s kind of just something you learn to live with.”

“I’ve seen nurses who have all the compassion in the world,” Twilight noted. “But I also have no idea how they do it, honestly.”

“Oh, you mean like you, Mr Biggest Bleeding Heart in the Room?” Legend remarked. “I bet you’re everyone’s favorite CNA over there. I don’t know how the hell you deal with sick kids day in and out.”

“It’s a lot easier when you’re the tech walking in and out of the room instead of the nurse responsible for that kid’s life,” Twilight argued mildly. “I mean, I do get attached and I want to take care of all of them, but I’m also so spread out it makes encounters shorter. So like… I don’t know, not as much burnout I guess. Except for the chronic kids.”

“Well, techs make a hell of a difference,” Four noted. “I’d be so screwed without you guys.”

“Back to the point,” Twilight frowned, waving a dismissive hand. “I’m sure even the kindest nurses have moments when they just can’t let themselves get hurt anymore. You’re not a jerk for being worn out from constantly watching people suffer.”

“What’s important, love, is getting out and having moments like this,” Malon piped up. “You boys all tend to self isolate when you’re not working, and all that does is make work your entire life. Take time for yourself but go out in the world too. We’re all here for each other. That’s why we had this tonight.”

Four sighed a little, glancing down at the fire. Sky elbowed him teasingly, smiling. “Hey. You can’t be any worse than Legend.”

The travel nurse perked up, face flushing and eyes wide with irritation as Warriors wheezed. “HEY!”

Everyone started to laugh while Legend rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air. But Sky knew it was just theatrics; after all, he and Legend had talked about this very thing a few weeks ago.

Healthcare broke people. They all knew that. But a little crack here and there could be supported, one person holding the other up. Sky wasn’t sure how long any of them could last in any one area, but he knew they’d try to make it work.

#writing #lu in healthcare #lu sky #lu warriors #lu four #lu legend #lu malon #lu twilight #The others are there but these are the ones talking #Me: I don’t have time to write fluff prompts :(#Also me: *spontaneously comes up with healthcare au scenes while dragging myself to work*#Ok I’m dipping out again bye bye #Will queue more fluff until I can get my life in order

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alpaca-clouds · 12 hours ago

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Let's Talk About "Marvelfication"

Okay, let me try to get this out of my system, because I do have some thoughts on this one.

See, as you know, I finished Dragon Age: Veilguard last week. And I did enjoy the game. I never was that attached to the franchise. I really enjoyed Inquisition back in the day when it came out, but after doing two runs with it never have really returned to it. I also did play one of the older games, though I am not fully sure which one, because it was a long while ago. But I just never got that attached to the franchise. (Which mostly has to do with my own personal issues with High Fantasy.)

But that is not what I wanted to talk about. What I wanted to talk about is more the thing I have seen now multiple people call out: "The Marvelfication" as some have called it. And mind you, I absolutely do agree with this: There were several scenes in this game where I thought to myself: "This feels kinda MCU."

However, what I kinda want to talk about is the specific wording here: "Marvelfication." Because it is super understandable that the first thing that comes to mind (for me as well) is the MCU. But I think the issue is way deeper than "MCU is popular, so let's do something like the MCU".

A lot of folks on Youtube and other platforms have talked about how a lot of "tropes" that people blame on the MCU are actually older than the MCU. The reason people associate it with the MCU is moreso that the MCU is just fucking everywhere since it became this big thing. It is what defines the media landscape.

The big issue actually is another one, though: Those tropes are everywhere because in a more and more conservative media landscape they are considered safe. These types of jokes are not risky in any way. These types of characters are not risky. These types of stories are not risky.

It is stories that are set in societies that are messed up, and then there is a big conflict that only tangentally relates to the ways the societies are messed up in, and then that conflict is resolved but the status quo does not change.

And that more than anything is what I would criticize about the game. Outside of very prominently centering some trans issues, the game has taken very little risks.

I wrote about that a bit last week in comparison to BG3, how safe the companions in Veilguard feel. This shows so harshly in direct comparison to BG3, because really, Larian sat down with player and told you: "Those assholes are your companions. Take it or leave it." Those people I know who never finished BG3 mostly never did because they could not stand the companions. Meanwhile those who, like me, got obsessed with the game, mostly did it because it feels so fucking satisfying when you start to get through to the companions after they started out as those assholes. This satisfaction is something Veilguard never really offers you - because... Well, I can assume that some of these characters had some edges at some point. But whatever edges there had been, those have gotten smoothed down, so now everyone is perfectly sweet. Sure, they might argue a bit here or there, and if you make decisions they do not agree with, they are gonna be pissy with Rook for a bit, but that's the most of it.

Same with a lot of other stuff. There is basically no sexual content in this game. You get one sex scene that is super tame and you see nothing - and one to two kisses per romance. No risk.

Any no matter what kinda choice the characters make, they are all gonna be nice, you know?

There is one thing in the finale of the game that is kinda risky, I will admit. But I will not talk about that yet, because I knwo a lot of people have not finished the game.

But for the most part the game does not risk anything.

And really, that is the core of what folks call "Marvelfication". Because pretty much this is also the issue with Marvel and Star Wars and pretty much all American made media: Outside of some smaller productions, some of which do well with the tumblr crowd but barely get any attention from mainstream audience (*coughs* Interview with the Vampire *coughs*) there is little risk taken. The humor is the same everywhere because this humor is considered safe. The characters feel kinda samey everywhere, because those characters are safe.

It is why I have stopped going to the cinema, because these days there are barely any movies I consider worth watching. It is ironically also why I have recently watched a whole lot more Japanese stuff, because it is easier to find stuff there that does not play it that safe.

It is also why I do these days mostly consume western stuff that has a 18+ rating on it - because at least with that stuff I know that it probably is not gonna play it "safe".

I just wish some media took more risks. I want those medium budget projects back, that cost like 30-50 million, so can make a profit with 100 million at the box office, without doing billions. I want some stuff in there that is not a big IP. I just want... stuff.

Right now I am looking at the soon end of What We Do In The Shadows, mostly because it is one of the few things on right now that does some risky stuff. And I miss those SyFy low budget originals, because some of it was kinda risky. Ugh.

The issue is not Marvel. It is not even Disney. It is that the creative industries in the US right now mainly put out big budget stuff that because of that big budget needs to be loved by everyone.

And look, I am trans. Hence I absolutely do see some value in the fact that Bioware clearly took position and said: "Okay, we get to do one risky thing, so that thing is gonna be to incluse a variety of trans characters." Which I love and respect. But I kinda wish the game had not been quite that pretty and instead also included a bit more edges on the characters.

... But I guess in the end there is still fanfiction, where I can still make the characters messy. lol

#dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age veilguard #marvelfication #mcu #marvel #disney #bioware #anti capitalism #baldur's gate 3

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melonelle · 3 days ago

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just chiming in with my experience as someone who got a lot of notes like three years ago and now it's a dead simblr.

we used to be a proper community; from 2015 to 2019. i think people nowadays don't know how exciting it was to just log on to see people sharing cc just because it was a passion project; that was the norm.

i'm so thankful that there's still people doing the same thing now in this artificial wasteland that simblr has become.

now i think that our decline as a community started with the monetization of cc, now cc isn't a passion project that you can appreciate and be thankful that the creator decided to share it in the first place. it's a product that you buy, and you better like it because you're paying for it.

also, as someone who used to support a lot of creators on patreon back in the day, i don't think that i did it because i actually wanted to support them; instead, their cc had become an exclusive item, and i just couldn't wait to get it.

it's gotten to the point where i think that of the 15 creators i used to be a patreon of, now if i could i'd only support 2, and one of the is not longer active, so let's get that number back to 1.

now the popular cc creators only come here to post their links to patreon, because they are making bank and they no longer need to build a community for it to happen.

or they give the collections to popular simblrs to post with a similar model to a sponsored post, and that's when you get content fatigue because i have seen like five different simblr posting the same damned collection, and even if it has not been released to the public i'm already tired of seeing it.

and i carry some of the fault too, back in 2018 i had no problem with reblogging cc that i liked or other people's posts, but somewhere along the way i got into the mindset that i needed to build my own brand (which i think is what's currently happening on a major scale now) and that meant i only had to post my own stuff. during the time, i was getting a lot of notes; it was getting to the point where i stressed myself with getting posts out just to keep the roll going, and then it came the burnout that made me leave the community for a couple years.

now for me, simblr feels so artificial on a large scale. i think that's probably because a lot more people realized you can make an easy and big buck creating cc for this game, and ea won't care or put rules in place to prevent this happening because they want a piece of the cake too, so they'll never go against big name creators.

but that has left us with a community that feels more individualist and artificial than never before.

dude, it's unreal because i have around 2.5k followers here, and i actually prefer to spend my time here on tumblr in my fandom-specific sideblog, where i have less than 150 followers, but whenever i post i get a real sense of a community responding to my posts.

hell, i have even posted some of my sims there, because if i were to do it here in simblr my post feels like a drop in the bucket.

I've been seeing alot of people felling discouraged from simblr and feeling like they don't belong

Especially when there is alot of posts going around telling you not to focus on popularity etc

But im here to tell you ITS NOT YOU

You did nothing worng you do infact belong here its not your fault people in this community are not interactive (and yes its just this community im in two other fandom spaces and they work just fine people here are the outlier)

And my proof that its not your fault?

I have 3200 follower (all real people i removed the bots myself)

So you would think i would get alot of notes and feel included right?

WRONG

3k+ followers and this year the most notes i got on any non cc post i made was 15 and on cc posts it was 56

The only post that got alot of notes all year was my simblreen treats post and you would think with 3k people watching it would be 1000 notes or something but no last time i checked it was barely over 100

There are like 3 people that occasionally talk to me sometimes on my posts lol (very thankful i know no one owes me anything)

And i have had this blog for 6+ years

My point is

You belong just fine and i personally am happy you are here

Its not your fault people are being stubborn and refusing to reblog on the reblog website

(imma be real with you if i owened this website im removing the like option this is the reblog website you don't need to only like stuff but i dont own it so 🤷‍♂️)

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lostintransist · 2 days ago

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I can't keep doing this to myself...

My brain spit out an idea at me that I don't want to lose so you get to suffer with me under the weight of this idea until I have the time space energy ADHD hyperfocus to start on it.

This is not edited. Goal is to get the thought out of my head, not to make it perfect.

So imagine for me if you will that in some version of the stories for whatever reason I can bullshit into making sense Simon is selected to undergo a new and experimental form of trauma therapy. Used she/her here but when I write it pronouns will be you/yours

He hates it but orders are orders and after losing Johnny (his best mate, his lover, the other half of his soul) he would do just about anything to crawl from under the weight of the grief and guilt. Accepting the assignment means being put under sedation regularly for anywhere from six months to a year. During the sedation your active mind will remian awake and will begin to interact with a simulation that will help deal with the traumas exisiting in his body and mind.

Simon, not 100% on board, accepts the assignment but when he wakes up in some of his worst memorires ignores the woman following him from scene to scene, offering help. Every time he cowers as a child she offers a hand. Each time he bites back the fear flooding his system on a battlefield she offers to take the bullet instead.

For months he ignores her, trying to defeat his demons on his own. This was his mind and his body dammit, he could do this.

She stops offering help but doesn't leave. Trailing behind him in his memories Simon always finds flowers strewn in his footsteps. He never bothered to learn her name. When her laughter starts to haunt his dreams he watches her instead of his memories.

Whoever had programed this simulation had taken great care in creating a realistic interaction point. She makes ugly faces before she sneezes in the barns he has hid in, always complains about hayfever. Her ring finger on her right had been broken before, he can tell from the slight bend between the second and third knuckle. Every time he entered the simulation she wore something different, sometimes tugging on pants as if they wouldn't stay up.

"What should I call you?"

"Mmm?" She looks up from a book she had pulled down from a shelf in a dilapidated kitchen. "Oh, I'm not real so you can call me whatever you want."

He stared at her, frustrations mounting.

"Back to the silent treatment? Okay, this recipe looks actually really yummy," she turns to look back to the book.

Simon stalks up and snatches it from her hands. There is actually handwritten recipes. For some reason this makes Simon's rage double. How? How could this be real? He never opened a book in this kitchen. All that happened here was patching his wounds while waiting for exfil.

Their pattern continues like that until his brain finally spits out Johnny's death. He had been so, so careful to never let that memory come up. When it does Simon is so blindsided that when she offers to help he finally accepts.

Not knowing what to expect from this interaction did not prevent Simon from being surprised at how she handled it. She started to hum as she froze the memory, touching and moving pieces and people until everything had rewound a few moments.

"You have to sit it in, this pain. Talk to him. Tell him everything you didn't get a chance to. The longer you can sit in the agony the sooner it will find peace." She takes him by the hand and pulls him to his love.

Simon cries, like the young boy who needed safety and only found hate or indifference. Through blubbering sobs he tells Johnny every word he regretted hording. When Johnny hugs him back, mouth moving and voice saying things Simon had only dreamed of he found a semblenece of peace.

When his heartrate returns to normal and the only proof this interaction happened is the hollow space in his chest where Johnny will continue to exist his compaion steps back from Johnny, appearing as if from the dust.

"I think that is enough today. You did good." Turning on her heel she walks away, disappearing into the folds between memories.

Simon had never seen her leave before, he always ended the sessions before she had a chance.

He lets her help then, this nameless woman. They conquer every memory and the vaguest notions of memories that bother him. This intensive work paired with his weekly therapy leaves his with the skills to deal with the nightmares, the PTSD, and the trauma that still manifests from time to time.

Can one fall in love with a figment of imagintion? Simon thinks he might have. The final session he confesses, brushing his lips against hers as she sobs.

"But I'm not real. Simon, you can't love me I'm not real."

"Johnny's not real either anymore. I still love him. I'll keep you in my bones next to him, both of you keeping me safe."

She runs then, between memories and fears until she disappears and ends the sesion.

Simon, upon requesting more sessions, is informed that he has completed the program and all his care is being turned over to the non-intensive team that his therapist is a part of. Oh she shouldn't have argued with him or cut off their sessions. Now he knows she is real, the woman the knocked around his brain and fought back the demons for him.

Now all he had to do? Find her.

For anything I am currently working on check out my masterlist. This is getting dropped into my drabbles for later.

#cod #fanfiction #cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost cod

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enzstr · 3 days ago

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Only You || K. Bakugo

Pairing: Bakugo x Reader

synopsis: starz26708 and Dino.tnt609, two students who first met in an online chatroom. A friendship had flourished between them. With the strong need to meet each other, 6aku.tnt609 slowly gains curiosity regarding the other's identity, which sparked the desire to meet her within him. What could possibly go wrong?

💭: btw, this is inspired from the Chad Michael Murray and Hilary Duff movie A Cinderella's Story!!

author's note: My deepest apologies it took me so long to upload the new chapter!!! I've been having finals and examinations but I'm free now!! New chapter might come out in a few days or a week since it's in my drafts now...

words: 3.7k

Chapter 2: The Two People

Reader's POV

The following day, I sat in my classes, feeling unusually unfocused. I found my thoughts continually returning to the message I had received the night before from my friend, Dino.tnt609. The words and emotions contained in that message had left a powerful and lingering effect on me, making it difficult for me to fully immerse myself in the subjects being taught.

“Please meet me at the school’s party. I’ll be waiting for you at 11:00 in the middle of the dance floor.”

Those messages had set themselves so deeply into my thoughts that it was as if they were on a constant replay in my mind. No matter what I did, I couldn't seem to rid myself of their presence. They continued to resurface, over and over again, like a stubborn memory that refused to be forgotten. The more I tried to dismiss them, the more their contents seemed to linger in my thoughts, refusing to be pushed aside or ignored.

“Y/n, what is the difference between speed and velocity?”

My heart dropped. I have been half-listening, my mind drifting, thinking about the message Dino sent to me—contemplating meeting him, and the school party. But now, I was completely caught off guard. Difference between speed and velocity—the words sounded fuzzy in my head, like fragments of a puzzle I wasn’t sure how to put together.

That was when she noticed him.

Bakugo.

He was sitting at the back of the class, leaning back in his chair, hands casually folded behind his head. He was grinning—the kind of grin that wasn’t friendly or supportive. It was the kind of grin that only came when you were sure someone else was about to fail. He’d been watching me for a while now, and I could feel his gaze boring into me. I knew exactly what he was thinking: She wasn’t paying attention. She doesn’t know the answer. This is my chance to look good in front of everyone.

The grin on Bakugo’s face widened ever so slightly, and I could almost hear his internal smirk. He had the confidence of someone who’d aced every test without breaking a sweat, someone who knew how to get under your skin with the smallest of gestures. And right now, his quiet, almost smug enjoyment was aimed directly at me.

My stomach twisted. It wasn’t that I cared about beating Dylan, exactly. But I did care about not looking foolish in front of the class—especially when he was clearly expecting me to fail. The challenge hung in the air, palpable, like an unspoken duel. I could almost hear him thinking, Come on, mess up. Please mess up.

The competitive spark in me flared to life, and in that moment, something shifted inside of me. I wasn’t going to let him get the last laugh. No way.

I straightened up in my chair, eyes narrowing just slightly, and forced myself to focus. I don’t need to know everything, I told myself. I just need to know enough to get this answer right.

My gaze locked back onto the board, and suddenly, it wasn’t so hard to make sense of the question. It was a simple logic question—something I could handle if I stopped panicking.

Mr. Aizawa was still looking at me expectantly, but now I had a plan. I took a steadying breath and spoke, my voice clearer than she felt.

“The difference between speed and velocity lies in their definitions, speed is a scalar quantity, meaning it only describes how fast an object is moving, without any reference to direction. For example, if a car is going 50 km/h, that's its speed.”

Her eyes flicked back to the board, confirming her answer. She could feel the weight of the moment—this was what it was all about. She hadn’t been paying attention before, but she was focused now, and she was going to finish strong.

“Velocity, on the other hand, is a vector quantity. This means it not only describes how fast an object is moving but also in which direction. For instance, if the car is traveling at 50 km/h to the east, its velocity is 50 km/h east. In essence, while speed only tells you the rate of motion, velocity provides both the rate and the direction of motion.”

Mr. Aizawa nodded approvingly. "Exactly, Y/n. Well done."

I felt a small surge of relief, but it wasn’t just the satisfaction of getting the answer right. It was the feeling of having turned the tables, of having taken control of the moment that had threatened to spiral out of my grasp. I glanced over at Bakugo, just as he was about to sit up straighter in his chair. His grin faltered when he saw the glint in my eyes.

And that was all the encouragement Bakugo needed.

I couldn’t help myself. A small, almost mischievous smile curved on my lips. It wasn’t an innocent, pleased-with-herself smile—it was the kind of grin you wore when you knew you’d just pulled something off, when you’d just made someone else realize they’d misjudged you.

Bakugo’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly, the smugness faltering for the briefest of moments. He’d thought I’d fumble. He’d thought I wouldn’t know the answer. But I had shown him, and not only had I known the answer—I said it with confidence, without hesitation.

He looked away first, clearly frustrated, but I didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened. I knew that look. He didn’t like losing, even if it was just a small moment, a little victory that nobody else in the room might even notice.

But I noticed. And that was enough for her.

As the class continued, Ellie let herself settle back into her seat, but her mind was sharp, focused, and alive with the thrill of competition. Dylan might have been the golden boy of the class, but today, in this small, unexpected moment, Ellie had beaten him. And for once, it felt really good to smile back at him—just a little bit smug, just a little bit competitive—knowing that he hadn’t seen this coming.

The moment I finished answering the question, I could feel it—a mix of pride and adrenaline coursing through me. I had nailed it, no hesitation, no second-guessing. The class had been quiet after I spoke, the silence hanging in the air before the professor acknowledged my answer. It felt like the eyes of the entire room were on me, but in that instant, I didn’t care. For once, I was the one who had it together.

But then there was the scoff.

I didn’t even need to look at him to know exactly who it was. Bakugo. The ever-present thorn in my side. His chair creaked as he shifted, his eyes narrowing in that way I was so familiar with. He looked almost... irritated, the kind of expression he wore when he thought someone was challenging his spot as top dog in this class. And right now, it was clear that he did not appreciate the fact that I was the one who had answered confidently.

Why does it always have to be him? I wondered, my hands clenched under the desk. I knew it was coming—he was going to find some way to one-up me, to make me feel small for doing something as simple as knowing the answer. I hated how predictable he was, but I hated even more that it affected me so much. I’d never let him see that, though. He had to think I was just as indifferent as he was.

I kept my eyes trained forward, pretending like his irritation didn’t bother me, like I wasn’t still replaying the way he’d looked at me, the way he always tried to put me in my place. It’s just a class. It doesn’t matter, I reminded myself. This isn’t real life. This is just some stupid competition.

The bell rang, breaking my thoughts, and the class started to pack up. As usual, Bakugo shoved his things into his bag with that signature smug expression, as if he'd already forgotten the moment I’d answered correctly. He probably wouldn’t give it a second thought, while I would be stewing in it for the rest of the day.

I grabbed my phone, hoping to distract myself. A new message from Dino.tnt 609 popped up. My fingers tapped the screen eagerly, relieved for the sudden shift in focus.

Dino.tnt609: “So, Halloween party tomorrow night.. what do you think? You in?”

I smiled at the message. Dino. He was the one person who could make everything feel lighter, even when things felt heavy. Talking to him always made me feel like I could breathe again after a day of dealing with Bakugo’s constant need to compete. Dino was my escape. He didn’t care about grades or the stupid academic battles I fought with Bakugo every day. He just… gets me.

But then I hesitated. My thumb hovered over the keyboard as I began to type, the excitement of the invite quickly dampened by a twinge of anxiety. The party. It should be fun, right? Just a Halloween party. But the idea of seeing someone in person—someone I had only ever known through texts and memes and game chats—suddenly felt overwhelming. What if I didn’t click with him in real life? What if meeting him was awkward?

But more than that, what if it turned out that the person I was texting with every night was someone I couldn’t stand in real life? What if he was one of those people who, once you met them face to face, you realized you just didn’t vibe with? What if it was someone like Bakugo?

Wait, no. Don’t think that. I tried to push the thought out of my head. I knew it was irrational. Dino wasn’t Bakugo. He couldn’t be. Dino was the one who listened to my rants without judgment. Bakugo would’ve laughed at my complaints, probably turned it into some kind of competition. But Dino didn’t—he understood. He had always been there when I needed to vent about school, about life, about how exhausting it was to constantly feel like I had to prove myself to people who didn’t deserve it.

I bit my lip, still unsure. Maybe I was overthinking it. It’s just a Halloween party. Just one night. The mask I planned to wear would make it easier, give me an extra layer of comfort in case things felt weird. And if it turned out the person I was meeting in real life was someone I couldn’t stand? I could always leave early, or just keep the mask on, keep things light. No pressure.

With a sigh, I finally typed back.

starz26708: “I’m not sure yet. I want to go, but I keep thinking about who I might run into. What if it’s someone I already know and just don’t get along with? I hate the idea of meeting someone and realizing they’re not who I thought they’d be…”

I glanced at the message after I sent it, my heart pounding slightly. What if Dino didn’t understand? What if he thought I was being weird or overdramatic? But no, Dino would get it. He always did.

My phone buzzed almost immediately, and I opened the message from him.

Dino.tnt609: “I totally get it. Meeting people in real life is a lot different, especially when you’ve only talked to them online. But hey, no worries. If you don’t like the vibe when you get there, you don’t have to stay. Just come and hang out for a bit, if you feel like it. We can just keep it lowkey. And honestly, the mask thing sounds awesome. No pressure at all.”

I felt the tension leave my shoulders as I read his reply. Dino’s message was so casual, so easy-going. It reminded me that I didn’t have to overthink everything. The idea of the mask suddenly felt like a safe haven, a way to protect myself if things didn’t go as planned. And if things went well? Even better.

I glanced at my costume on the chair across the room, the simple, cute outfit with the eye mask. It was just for fun, right? It would be a way to keep things light, to feel like I could still hide behind some layer of anonymity, just in case. I could show up, meet DIno, and see how it felt. If I didn’t like the vibe, I could leave. No harm done.

Taking a deep breath, I typed out my response.

starz26708: “Alright, I’ll do it. I’ll come to the party. And I’ll wear the mask. No pressure. Just… a fun time, right?”

I hit send and sat back in my chair, feeling both nervous and excited. The thought of meeting Maverick in real life still made my heart race, but now there was a sense of excitement bubbling up, too. No more overthinking. Tomorrow would be what it would be.

As I tucked my phone back into my pocket, I couldn’t help but think back to the classroom earlier that day, the way Bakugo had looked at me with that scoff, like I was some kind of threat to his place in the class. I couldn’t stop him from being irritated or annoyed by me. But for once, I didn’t need to care. I was about to meet someone who saw me for who I really was, not just some competitor in an academic race.

And for the first time in a while, that felt like enough.

The library was still, the kind of stillness that envelops you like a blanket, pressing in with its quiet whispers. The scent of old books and fresh paper, mingled with the faint hum of fluorescent lights, filled the air. I sat at my usual spot in the corner near the back row of tables, tucked between two towering bookshelves. The table before me was cluttered with textbooks, notebooks, and a half-finished cup of coffee that had long since cooled. It was late afternoon, and the golden light from the windows cast long shadows across the floor, making everything feel a bit more serene than usual.

I liked it here—the calm, the solitude, the sense of focus that always seemed to find its way to me in the midst of my chaotic thoughts. But today, there was an odd distraction. Him. Bakugo.

It wasn’t that he had suddenly appeared or made his presence known in any way. No, he’d been here for a while now, sitting at the table across from hers, his head bent low over a stack of textbooks. His usual aloofness was present, that edge of arrogance that always seemed to follow him like a cloud, but it was muted somehow. Less blatant. Less in-your-face.

I could feel the tension in her chest as I stole a glance at him. My eyes lingered for just a moment, not sure what to make of it. He wasn’t showing off, wasn’t playing the part of the smug academic genius. He was just… working.

It was weird. It had been a while since I’d seen Bakugo like this—since he had been normal. Or maybe that wasn’t the right word. Maybe it was more like he was letting his guard down a little, just enough for me to notice. He was still Bakugo, the same guy who had scoffed at me when I answered that question in class with confidence, the same guy who’d shot me looks of condescension every chance he got. But today, there was something… different.

I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable with the way my thoughts were spiraling around him. I didn’t like this feeling. I didn’t like the fact that I was starting to care, even a little, about what Bakugo thought—or, worse, starting to wonder if he was, in some way, not the person I always assumed him to be.

My focus snapped back to my notes. I had a test coming up. A test I needed to ace. No distractions. No thoughts about him. And yet, despite my best efforts, I couldn’t stop my gaze from drifting back to him.

Bakugo had paused in the middle of writing, a pencil hovering above his notebook as he looked at something in the distance, his gaze unfocused. There was a tiredness about him today, something uncharacteristic, as though the weight of his own expectations were getting to him. His posture had shifted slightly; no longer the rigid, always-perfect stance, but more slouched, as if the constant pressure of being the best was beginning to wear on him. I had always known that he had his own demons, just as I did. But today, it felt… real somehow. It felt more human.

I tried to shake it off, to tell myself that this was just another moment of my own weakness, my need to understand people. To make sense of things. But it was harder now. It was harder to keep the walls up when I had seen a flicker of something real underneath the arrogance.

Bakugo cleared his throat suddenly, breaking the silence between them, and my eyes shot up, my heart giving an unexpected jolt. He was looking at me now, but not with the same sharp, dismissive gaze I was used to. No, this time, it was... different. There was still a hint of skepticism, but it wasn’t the biting kind. It was almost... curious.

“You’re doing that thing again,” he said, his voice a little hoarse, but not with the usual irritation. It was more like an observation. “Staring off into space.”

I blinked, surprised by the comment. “What?”

“You’re distracted,” he said, his voice quieter now. He shifted in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck with a tired sigh. “You’ve been looking at me like I’m some kind of puzzle you’re trying to figure out.”

I frowned, annoyed at how accurately he’d read me, even though I hadn’t been aware of it myself. “I haven’t been staring at you,” I muttered, though it wasn’t very convincing. I hadn’t meant to stare at him, but it was hard not to when something about today felt... off. In a way that was hard to describe.

Bakugo smirked, the edge of his usual arrogance slipping back for a moment. “Sure you haven’t.”

The flicker of their old dynamic was still there, but there was something softer in the way he said it. No ridicule. No malice. Just a simple, half-amused observation.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. This wasn’t helping me focus. And yet, there was something about the way Bakugo was acting today that made me feel like he wasn’t just my academic rival anymore. He wasn’t just the guy who competed against me for every grade, for every small victory.

For a split second,I entertained the thought that maybe—just maybe—I had misjudged him. But I quickly dismissed it. Bakugo was still Bakugo. Still arrogant. Still stubborn. Still too proud for his own good.

“I’m trying to focus,” I muttered, feeling a bit of tension in my chest, my irritation creeping back.

Bakugo didn’t respond right away. Instead, he picked up his pencil again and started scribbling something in his notebook. The sound of the lead scraping against the paper was oddly calming in the otherwise quiet space. I could feel the weight of the moment stretch out, the minutes slipping by as both of us worked, neither of us speaking.

And then, unexpectedly, Bakugo spoke again.

“You know,” he said, his voice a little softer than before, “you’re not the only one stressed out about this stuff.”

I blinked at him. What?

“Yeah,” He continued, not looking up from his work. “I might seem like I have everything figured out all the time, but I don’t. I—” He paused for a second, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of something that wasn’t arrogance in his eyes. “I hate feeling like I’m always just... expected to be the best, you know?”

I was taken aback. I didn’t know how to respond at first. This wasn’t the Bakugo I knew, the Bakugo who acted like he had the world on a string and was just waiting for it to fall into place. No, this was different. This was... human. Vulnerable, even.

I swallowed, the words catching in my throat. “I get it,” I said quietly, before I could stop herself. “I feel the same way. Like I’m always trying to prove something. Like I’m never enough.”

Bakugo finally looked up at me then, his expression more thoughtful than I had ever seen it. The usual arrogance was still there, tucked beneath the surface, but it wasn’t all-consuming. For a second, he just looked at her, as if considering her words. And for a moment, I wasn’t sure what to say next.

Then, surprisingly, Bakugo offered a small, almost imperceptible nod, the corner of his mouth twitching upward, not into a smirk, but a genuine smile. It wasn’t much—certainly not the kind of smile I ever expect from him—but it was enough.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Guess we’re not so different after all.”

I was silent for a moment, processing the unexpected turn in their conversation. There was still so much about him that grated on my nerves, but in that moment, sitting in the library with him, I realized something. Maybe—just maybe—there was more to him than the arrogant exterior he always wore. Maybe there was a real person beneath all that pride and stubbornness.

And maybe, just maybe, I was starting to see him for who he truly was.

“I guess so,” I replied, offering him a small smile of my own.

Both of us went back to their work, the silence stretching out between us again, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was… peaceful. There was an understanding now, an unspoken truce. They weren’t enemies, not really—not anymore.

For the first time, I realized that their rivalry didn’t have to define us. We could just be two students, studying together in the same quiet space, both trying to survive the pressures of their lives.

And in that simple moment, sitting across from each other, we both found a kind of peace.

taglist: @sara4uuu @zoast32 @lemon-lav @instantmagazineconnoisseur (comment to be added on my taglist!)

#bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki bakugou #mha x reader #bnha bakugou #mha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou fluff #fanfic #my hero academia fanfiction #my hero academia x reader

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burningcheese-merchant · 2 days ago

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I NEED MORE BURNED CHEESE CONTENT, could you please feed this poor hungry soul some burning cheese kids? Imagine the SUPER protective burn during Golden's pregnancy, or, or helping her with the children's dough (and already planning the next children)

The kids will be here soon, I promise :( they're at school right now, Spice and Golden have to go pick them up. It won't be too long. (I have something important to do irl and that takes priority. I'm hoping I have time at the end of this week to sit down and try to draw them. Everything else is ready, their characters sheets are done, got their whole lives on lock lol. All that's missing is to put them on paper. I only have about half a gram of artistic talent so I'll really be pushing myself here... but I want you all to see them really badly, so I'm happy to do it haha)

I don't have to imagine anything, I'm already there with you, buddy :') I hc them as already married by the time the kids come along, and yeah... Spice is SUPER overprotective lol. Very, very gentle and doting, but fiercely protective and downright hostile towards literally everyone else as a consequence of that protectiveness. He won't leave her side unless absolutely necessary, and he'll be snapping at whoever forced him to leave her and then rushing back to her as soon as he can. (She feels kind of claustrophobic at times, because he literally becomes her shadow during those 9 months lol.) But really, he's at her beck and call from beginning to end. She's craving something? He gets it for her. She's sore? Hugs and massages and nice baths. She's tired? He carries her to bed and doesn't allow anyone to bother her for any reason for the whole rest of the day. She can't sleep? He's up with her all night, talking to her and soothing her and doing whatever he can to lull her back to sleep because she needs all the rest she can get. He's Peak Husband during this time lol.

(He's just... beyond happy. I also hc this as being after Spice has redeemed himself and been accepted back into society, but still not having 100% let go of his dark past (which he never truly will, you can never fully forget something like that, unfortunately). So really, he takes this as one of the greatest rewards for his change of heart that he's ever gotten, and as a sign that he really has become better. The day Golden came to him and told him she was pregnant was the best day of his whole, entire life. He fell to his knees and cried when she told him. Not only has he managed to forsake his destructive nature and instead create something, but he's engaged in the most profound act of creation there is: he helped create a life. And he created this precious life with the woman he loves, who helped kickstart his journey to redemption in the first place. It just shows how far he's come, you know? From a cruel tyrant to a beloved king to two peoples... from a bloodthirsty psychopath destined to live and die alone to a much more even-tempered man who has atoned for his sins and learned to be a good friend and person again, as well as became a beloved husband and father... still a force for destruction, but now in a positive way, not a negative one. It's been a very long road, but it really feels like he reached the end, and this victory is sweeter than any he's had before.)

...And same thing if they're cookies, honestly lol. Peak Husband. Burning Sweetheart Cookie here, jumping for joy when Golden tells him she wants a child. He goes hunting for a Witch Oven of his own accord, going to quite literally every corner of the earth until he finds one, then they go to it and he's just like a kid on Christmas Day lol. They're making the batter together and he's just grinning that big, pointy grin he's got, beaming like the sun. How much of his dough should they mix in? How much of hers? What will happen, what sort of child will they create? Golden thinks he's so cute lol. He won't even sit still while the kid is baking in the oven; if he's not pacing back and forth in anticipation, he's picking Golden up and swinging her around and smothering her with kisses, and going on and on and on about how great the kid will be and how they'll be a fine warrior just like him and Golden. He's yanking the oven door open as soon as that timer goes off and they both hear crying... she has to tell him to slow down so they can both take the baby out together (he was so excited that he was just going to do it by himself lol)

TL;DR: The woobification of Burning Spice Cookie on this blog is complete, he is now Burning Sweetheart Cookie, reformed villain who loves his bird wife and their babies with all of his spicy heart

And to feed you a bit of extra content (and to keep everyone on the edge of their seats), I shall feed you a bit of information about the kiddies:

There are two of them, a son and a daughter. The son is the older one by a few years

I did research and took inspiration from both Egyptian and Hindu mythology for their design and some of their personality traits (I will explain this in detail soon. I actually really enjoyed learning about these religions, even if for a ridiculous reason, and I look forward to rambling about all the little bits and pieces of myths I cobbled together to make these two lol)

Each one resembles a parent quite a bit (but I will not specify which child looks like which parent yet)

One of them has wings like Golden Cheese does

Something really bad happens to the son in the future

Here are their soulstone descriptions, because yes, I really did go above and beyond creating these little guys lol

"This stone holds a piece of [REDACTED]'s soul. It feels warm and light, like a rare, refreshing breeze on a desert morning... But is that a single grain of self-doubt, nestled deep within its core?"

"This stone holds a piece of [REDACTED]'s soul. Though it burns very hot and bright, and feels difficult to handle at first, the kindness and unyielding strength resonating from within are nevertheless unmistakable."

#cookie run kingdom #burning spice cookie #golden cheese cookie #burningcheese #goldenspice #burning spice crk #golden cheese crk

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fandomworld9728 · 23 hours ago

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Radioapple Angst Request! - Part 2:

“Why is it that I always seem to find you on the roof?”

“That’s a secret.” Turning to Alastor with an amused smile, he patted the spot next to him. “Gonna come sit with me this time or call me an idiot and tell me to get to bed again?”

“I suppose I can humor you tonight. But only tonight.”

That one night had turned into many more. They were by far some of the best nights of Alastor’s afterlife.

Evenings after dinner on the roof, sleepless nights spent together in Lucifer’s ridiculously large bed talking about whatever popped into their heads, late nights drinking in Alastor's radio tower…

He was not going to lose those moments just because the little king was being a coward. Now if only Alastor could figure out why. Why did he run away like that?

Perhaps their dear Charlie knows. He’ll have to go and ask her before he goes over to the palace. It was always best to be prepared.

“No, no, no. Why is it flaring up now? Roo… why won't you just leave me in peace?” He could feel it creeping up his neck. The darkness. It was wrapping around his throat and covering his eyes-

“Lucifer!”

“Alastor maybe we shouldn’t-”

“Nonsense. Isolation isn’t good for the mind. Especially one that is spiraling. Much like your father’s.”

Charlie? Alastor? What in the unholy hell were they doing here?! It wasn't safe! He had to leave. Had to get away and keep them safe-

"There you are sire!"

Shit! "S-Stay back! Don't come near me, either of you!"

"Dad? What's going on- what is that blood goop?!"

Time was running out. He couldn't stop it from happening this time. "Alastor. I swear I will tell you everything if you get Charlie out of here. It isn't safe."

"...Very well."

"What? No! Let me stay and help!"

This was it. As soon as Charlie was out of those doors Lucifer would tell him everything. After that, he would leave, and this darkness would most likely swallow him whole forever. Lilith wasn't here to use her song to keep it at bay anymore.

"Alright. I was promised an explanation." Taking a look quickly around the room, Alastor only now noticed what a mess it was.

Not just from dust or clutter like he had expected to find. Furniture was upturned and looked like it had been thrown, and some looked to be smashed into pieces. The walls and floors had claw marks across them. Then, there was Lucifer himself.

"First, you can tell me about those shadows that seem to be trying to devour you."

Lucifer was silent for a moment, compilating the request. He didn't have time for this. But what choice did he have? He said he would explain everything. So, with what time he had left, he would hold up his end of the agreement.

"It's... the darkness. It's Roo. After what I did... letting evil into the world, I went and spoke with Roo. She made a deal with me. The very first demonic deal... she wanted to always be with me and in exchange she would keep the balance between the light and dark in the world. In people's hearts and souls."

What? Did Alastor hear that correctly? Lucifer, who has always hated his demonic form and everything that came with it, especially in the very beginning, made the very first demonic deal in creation to once again save humans? To right what he and Heaven deemed a mistake?

"But... fuck! I can't even do that right!" Pushing his hair out of his face, Lucifer let a bitter, self-loathing laugh slip out. Along with the tears he had so desperately been trying to hide.

"What do you mean?"

"When I'm stressed, or my emotions become too much to handle, I slip. My control wavers! She takes over my body and senses! Roo is able to upset the balance! Lilith... her song helped. Her singing can hypnotize people. It only worked on me for a couple of seconds, but that was enough time for me to regain control."

It felt... good... to talk to someone about this. He could feel the darkness recede. Just a little, but that just meant he had more time. More time with Alastor.

"It's one of the reasons I would isolate myself. Especially... Especially after I had hurt Charlie- Oh god! Lilith was right to take her when she left! I almost killed my little girl!"

"Lucifer! You're spiraling again!" Reaching out to try and get him to stop pulling at his hair, Alastor was surprised and a little hurt when he recoiled. He had never rejected his touch before.

"You can't touch me! She'll infect you or I-I'll hurt you! Please..."

Taking a few deep breaths to try and steady himself, Lucifer continued. As much as he was worried that he would hurt him, it helped to have him here.

"I didn't want to reject your confession. I was just- I'm scared. I can't take another heartbreak. I gave up everything for someone who left. Who got tired of all my baggage. Honestly, I can't blame her. I knew it might happen one day. I just hoped that she wouldn't have kept me from my own daughter, who I carried and gave birth to since she couldn't. And to just pretend I don't exist!"

"Alastor what is going on?!"

It had all happened so fast. Lucifer had transformed right in front of his eyes into a giant Eldrige being, destroying the palace in the process. It was glorious. However, the circumstances were not. Alastor had to fix this. So, he returned to the hotel quickly with a plan.

"Your father is trapped in Roo's darkness. Do not worry, I know what to do."

"And what would that be?"

"That, my dears, is to reassure that foolish king that I have no intentions of leaving. He is forever stuck with me whether he likes it or not."

Charlie and Vaggie exchanged worried glances before looking back at Alastor. "How can we help?"

Lucifer hated this part the most. Floating in a void of darkness. At least he was starting to lose himself enough that the screams of his people were beginning to muffle. If only he had some light...

"Salutations! Dear Sinners, worry no longer. For I am here to tame the beast that is our very own King of Hell."

Huh? Alastor? How could he hear his voice so clearly? Wait. Was that... light? A light was just ahead! If only he could reach it! But... he was tired...

"Once he comes to his senses, Hell can enjoy a royal wedding. Between whom you may ask. Why, dear listeners, Lucifer Morningstar and myself."

A wedding? For him and Alastor? He wanted to... no. He could just be saying that. There was no way. Right?

"Including a soul deal forever binding us together. You will not get rid of me Lucifer. Even if I have to hunt you down and drag you back kicking and screaming."

He couldn't believe it. He had to get free, go to him and apologize. The light was shining brighter as he swam to it. Fighting against the shadows and self-doubt for the first time in a long time that tried to pull him back, Lucifer finally reached it! Reaching out the last little bit of distance to grab it and let it envelop him.

In an instance, the darkness exploded off his body and rushed back inside of him, leaving him to fall from the sky. He was too weak to use his wings to catch himself. He barely registered it, but he could feel warm and sturdy arms catch him. Looking up, Lucifer saw that he was back in the care of Alastor. He was really going to have to make it up to him.

Part 1

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fanfiction #radioapple #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel alastor #roo hazbin hotel #hazbin vaggie

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theloveoffootball10 · 1 day ago

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sᴛɪᴄᴋᴡɪᴛᴜ- ᴛ ʜ ɪ ʀ ᴛ ʏ

m a s t e r l i s t

ᴛ ʜ ɪ ʀ ᴛ ʏ

Sprint weekends have never been my favourite. I know some people love them but for me, I prefer the more traditional weekend set up. That being said, I can't complain when Lando is having a good weekend. It could be going better if you ask him but fourth in practice and sprint qualifying then third in the sprint race isn't something to be sniffed at. I watch as he gets out of his car removing his helmet and balaclava from my spot at the back of the garage. I know a lot of the mechanics are used to me being here now but I like to keep out of their way. I'll often talk to Jon but I know he's got a job to do as well.

"Hi baby" feeling Lando wrap his arms around me from behind I melt into his body. Despite the heat of Texas I just want to be close to him.

"You okay? Well done on third place" kissing Lando I run my fingers through his sweaty hair "I know you would've liked first but I'm still proud of you"

"Thanks baby. I had a feeling we'd struggle out there. The Ferrari's are quick this weekend so I think third isn't too bad" it's nice to hear Lando being fairly positive after the sprint. I often think he blames himself when he shouldn't and he's far too critical of his performances on track "can we get out of here? I want to taste you before qualifying"

Lando's words go straight to my core. A few small worlds and I can feel the wetness between my legs starting. I barely nod my head in agreement when I'm practically dragged through the paddock to Lando's drivers room. A few people try to catch him for interviews but he doesn't stop for anyone, only muttering quick apologies as he bumps into them.

"Fuck baby I need you badly" Lando mumbles into my neck as my back hits the now closed door. I feel Lando's hands move agonisingly slow from my waist to my boobs. Letting out a moan into his mouth as I feel his hands cup my boobs before his attention turns to my nipples. His fingers expertly pinching my now erect nipples between his thumb and index finger.

"I love how your body responds to me" Lando whispers in my ear and the only response I can muster is a moan. I've lost all train of thought all I can think about is the way Lando makes me feel.

We both know we don't have long until qualifying especially now Lando has also skipped media he'll have to make up for beforehand as well. I'm pushed onto the small couch and my legs are over Lando's shoulders before I even register what is going on.

"Lando I need you to touch me" lifting my hips for Lando to pull of my underwear I'm almost tempted to touch myself when I feel his tongue. My legs are spread as wide as they will go and Lando holds them open with his massive hands.

Unable to resist, I lace my fingers through Lando's hair tugging gently as I feel his nose run up and down my slip causing me to gasp in surprise. Lando has never done that before but it feels so good.

"Baby you're so wet for me" He strokes his tongue over my wetness giving me long wet licks, his tongue sliding in all of the right places as my grasp on his hair tightens.

"Just for you Lando" I manage to mumble between moans. My legs shiver as the heat build up inside of me. This is going to be another occasion when I climax embarrassingly quick.

"I know you're close baby. Cum for me Lucía" feeling Lando's tongue expertly write his name on my clit I can't hold back much longer. He knows this is what tips me over the edge and he's quick to use it to his advantage.

"Oh fuck, yes!" I moan loudly forgetting the walls of these driver rooms are paper thin. Lando doesn't stop until the wave of my orgasm has passed. His head remains between my legs as he looks up at me, his hazel eyes twinkling and a cheeky grin on his face "that gets better every time"

"I love when you cum after I claim your clit as mine"

“I’m all yours Lando. I know we don’t have long but I want you to fuck me” I say pulling Lando’s black fireproof shirt off and pushing his race suit down his hips. I don’t even need him to take the full thing off.

“You love when I fuck you hard don’t you” Lando says as he takes his hard cock in his hand rubbing the tip up and down my slit and over my clit. The feeling has me clenching around nothing.

“Lando please” I’m so desperate for him at this point, it almost knocks the wind out of me when he thrusts into me hard “fuck yes. Like that Lando. Feels so good”

Lando thrusts his hip frantically chasing his high knowing we’re on limited time. I wrap my legs around him tight holding him as close to me as I can as my hips lift off the bed meeting Lando’s with every thrust. I’m so close to my climax I know I need to hold back and let Lando cum first. I want him to cum first, I’ve already been lucky enough to have an orgasm.

“Lando I need you to cum in me” I breathe out between moans and I clench my muscles around Lando.

“Fuck you feel so tight when you do that” as I feel Lando cum inside of me his hips don’t slow down until he brings me to my second orgasm “you’re amazing Lucía. I love you so much”

“I love you Lando” I pull Lando into a kiss as my breathing slows down knowing he’s got probably five minutes until he has to go “how many people do you think heard us this time?” I ask with a laugh knowing someone is bound to have heard. Neither one of us even try to keep the noise down.

“Definitely Oscar if he’s in his room and probably everyone downstairs” Lando answers with a grin on his face. He doesn’t even care if people hear “I need to go and make it up to these journalists, I’ll see you after quali”

“Good luck babe. You’ll be amazing” with a quick kiss Lando is gone.

Cleaning myself up I get dressed pulling on the clothes Lando quickly pulled off me. I don't think I'll ever get bored of that man. He has media commitments but it doesn't bother me that he's left me straight after sex. This was more of a quick desperate fuck than anything. Believing the coast is clear I walk out of Lando's drivers room and through the paddock where out of the corner of my eye I see my boyfriend in the arms of another girl down the side of a motor home. Fucking Alesha. His arms are around her waist, her fingers tangled in his curls as he holds her against the wall with his hips.

I'm in shock. I don't know what to do. I blink multiple times willing the sight in front of me to disappear but it doesn't. Walking away I don't know how to handle this. I'm so angry. I don't cry I just pace back and forth around the paddock. I'm arguing with myself when to confront Lando. I know I have to because if I don't it will eat away at me until I snap. My best opportunity seems like after qualifying until I see the dickhead laughing and joking with some of his mechanics.

"I didn't want to believe what I've just witnessed was true. I never thought you'd ever do something like that to me. You were supposed to love me and respect me but you go and do that behind my back!" I run my fingers through my hair in frustration willing myself not to cry, instead choosing to raise my voice. I didn't want to do this here in the paddock but I can't hold back any longer. People are beginning to take notice of the commotion but it doesn't deter me.

"Baby please let me explain" I don't even need to tell Lando why I'm angry. He knows he's been caught red handed and can't deny his actions.

"No Lando. I'm not listening to shit excuses. I've always been strong and independent and I'll continue being that without you. It's unbelievable you claim to love me but you cheat on me the second my back is turned" I feel the tears filling my eyes and I know it's a mix of anger, frustration and sadness.

"Look if you just listen to me for ten minutes I promise you I will tell you the truth. This is all ridiculous"

"Don't you fucking dare tell me this is ridiculous. I'm done with you. You're an absolute cunt don't ever speak to me again" I fume as I turn to walk away from Lando when I feel him grab my hand to stop me. Without even realising what I'm doing my hand connects with his cheek with a massive crack. I can't believe I've just done that. Turning away from Lando I go to make my way to the Aston Martin hospitality lounge I see Alesha standing feet away from me "you're welcome to him but ask him where his lips and tongue were a mere 20 minutes before he had them down your throat. Hope you like the taste of my cum"

I'm fucked. I've never raised my hands to anyone in my life and now I dread to think how many people in the paddock saw what just happened including press. I need to get out here right now. Practically running up the stairs I knock until I hear the quiet invite in.

"Papá, he hecho algo estúpido" I say taking a seat in my dads drivers room resting my head in my hands "I've fucked up so bad" it's not until I feel my dad pull me into his arms I break down. The tears fall freely and I don't try to stop them. I'm devastated.

"Lucía breathe and tell me what's happened" my dad tries to calm me down but it doesn't work, I just can't seem to catch my breath. I've never had a panic attack before in my life and I can't believe I'm about to have one over a boy. He's not a man. "Come on princesita breathe with me" I don't know how long it takes but eventually my breathing slows back to normal however my tears don't stop. My dad doesn't push me. It's one of the many things I love about him. He knows I'm hurting and I know he's dying to take off like a bull but he stays by my side.

"I caught Lando cheating on me papá" saying the words out loud makes me want to physically vomit "that slut Alesha who's the F1 TV host. It was fucking minutes after we had sex as well. Oh my god I've just slapped him across the face in the middle of the paddock. Fuck!"

"Cabrón! I'll kill him! How dare he do that to you! He deserves that slap" letting my dad hold me in his arms I cry into his chest. Right now I'm just a lost little girl who needs her dad.

"He promised whatever they had last year was over. He promised me papá" wiping my eyes I try to get my tears under control but it's pointless "I know you have qualifying papá but I need to go home. I need to get out of here I can't stay where he is"

"Anything you need Lucía just tell me. I can have him into a barrier in three seconds flat if you want"

"Please don't compromise yourself papá. I just want to go home and be away from all of this. Away from him. Away from her. I might punch her if I come across her smug face again"

"I wouldn't stop you mi princesa. Stay here and I'll go and arrange your flight with Chelsea"

"Gracias papá. Te amo"

"Yo también te amo" as my dad leaves me in his drivers room the enormity of the situation hits me like a ton of bricks. I never in a million years thought this is what my relationship would come to. I need to get out of Texas and as far from formula one as possible.

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