#and they’re gonna go down in history and people are gonna be like yeah that happened

[writers-lore]

Glasses

Solangelo + Kayla & Austin - 1,219 words - fluff

(Look, I’m not a medical professional, and I doubt CHB has general medical equipment for hearing or vision tests— I feel like the infirmary is more for the flu breakouts or hurting yourself. I tried to research hearing tests though, and I’ve sat in on vision tests— the infirmary makes do with what they have)

///////

Kayla was on the clock in the infirmary that night, making sure the one camper who was staying for the night would be fine. And, on the plus side, she got some company during the night.

“Hey” Nico said, walking in and heading to the desk. Kayla tended to the files that her siblings (cough Will cough) had taken down to organize and forgotten to put back. He sat down and started to spin in a circle in the desk chair.

“It’s like five in the morning Nico, why are you still awake?” Kayla said, picking up a file and flicking through it. “They didn’t even fill out their allergies-- hey that’s my chair, you get the bean bag.”

“Why don’t people fully fill them out?” Nico asked, slightly flopping into the bean bag.

“Sometimes they don’t know their medical history- some kids come to camp when they’re young, like me, and don’t know their history.” Kayla explains, adding another file to the pile of unfilled-out files, “Oh hey, it’s your file, Nico. Yeah, so that’s going into the unfilled-out files.”

“What? Let me see.” He snatched the file from Kayla, “Oh-- it really isn’t.”

“Have you had any of your booster shots recently?” Kayla asked, finally looking directly at him.

“What’s a booster shot?” He joked, trying to keep himself from smiling. Campers tended to assume that because he was born in the thirties, he had no idea what medicine was despite shots existing then. He has had shots before, but in recent years has forgotten to get his flu shots.

“Oh my gods you better be kidding. But in all seriousness, have you had them? Like a flu shot? Have you had an eye exam? Have you had a hearing test?” Kayla interrogated as if she were going down a list.

“Uhhhhhh,” Nico’s mind started to go blank after being put on the spot. He looked up at the ceiling as if it would magically tell him if he had ever gone to an eye doctor before. “I’ve had booster shots, do you really think your brother would let that slide? But, I don’t think I’ve had an eye test- whatever, before. Or that other thing you said.”

“What?” Will exclaimed, a dumbfounded look on his face. He had just walked into the infirmary to see how Kayla’s night shift had gone.

“This is gonna be awesome- hey, imagine you really do need glasses. How many fingers am I holding up dude?” Kayla says holding up two fingers before rapidly switching the amount of fingers she held up.

“Okay that’s so helpful Kayla. Is it actually necessary?” Nico sighed, looking at Will, “I don’t think I have issues with my vision, wouldn’t I have already known?”

“Mm- it depends. Sometimes what someone thinks is normal isn’t actually normal. So you could need glasses. I doubt you have hearing issues since that would’ve been a clear issue.” Will says while searching in the infirmary desk for a pair of earbuds, “Here, put these in. Let me know if you can hear them. It’s not perfect, but we don’t really have the equipment for general health stuff. Not even sure if I’m doing it right. We do have an eye test though.”

Despite having all the equipment to attend to trauma wounds, the infirmary didn’t really have anything for hearing tests other than headphones and asking, “Did you hear that?” before admitting they could hear, could hardly hear, or didn’t hear. It honestly wasn’t the best system, and unsurprisingly, not medical grade. However, cabin seven made it work. Surprisingly, hardly ever was any camper diagnosed, or not diagnosed, with something they did or didn’t have. The infirmary did more medic things than general medicine.

Will connected the headphones to his phone before cursing to himself silently while he shut down the hundreds of tabs he had open. His phone case was one of those cases that make it harder to break your phone. Although, you wouldn’t realize it by looking at his damaged screen protector.

“So, our next story takes place in the 40’s—“

“William is this just one of your podcasts??” Nico took an earbud out.

“Shit-- hold on. That wasn’t supposed to play.” Will said, making an overwhelmed hand gesture, “Okay, here. Let me know if you can hear it.”

When the music played, Nico could hear it clearly. Tear in my Heart by twenty-one pilots started playing. It was their song. Their song. Nico felt his face go red. When he first liked Will, he felt cheesy listening to love songs. But when he told Will what songs he listened to, there was no judgement. No reason for guilt, nothing.

“I can hear it” Nico said, taking out an earbud so he didn’t need to yell.

“Cool- now we just have to do your vision test.” Will said, taking the headphones from Nico and shoving them onto the desk.

“I wonder if we’re violating HIPPA by saying the results of your tests.” Kayla spun herself in the desk chair while eating a lollipop stolen from the infirmary’s supply.

“I doubt that’s something we’d need to worry about— besides I don’t care if people know if I have vision or hearing issues.” Nico said, “And, the dress code isn’t even up to standards and there hasn’t been many issues with that”

“Yeah, I mean it’s not like I’m going around gossiping that I knew it was Alice who made the camp have food poisoning for a week” Kayla said, starting to chew on her lollipop. Will glared at her and rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, I sat that piece of paper up on that far wall,” Will pointed a few feet away from himself, ”Let me know what letters you can read. Start with the bottom row please.”

“I can’t read that row— but I think I can read the third row from the bottom.” Nico squinted, he tried his best to read that row but eventually, he realized he wasn’t able to.

“Hm, okay.” Will said, he started to think to himself about the results.

“Damn, seems like you need some glasses dude.” Kayla said, she turned her chair to face her brother and his boyfriend.

///////

“For fu—“ Nico cut himself off knowing he was about to say something he could regret, “Will, I could see just fine before. Why do I have to keep them on?”

“I literally don’t know why you’re having such an issue with your glasses” Will said, puzzled. He looked up from his book to see Nico pushing his glasses back up for the third time since they sat down, “Darlin’, quit messing with em’.”

“Yeah darlin’” Kayla said, mocking her brother's accent. He didn’t sound southern all of the time, but it starts to slip now and then. Will whipped his head over to glare at her.

“Why don’t you just get contacts?” Austin said, sitting down next to Kayla with an orange.

“Pleaseee Willlll” Nico said a bit over-dramatically. He clasped his hands together as if he were praying. Will chuckled for a second before ruffling his boyfriend’s hair.

“Okay, I’ll put the order in— but you gotta put those in” Will said smiling.

[independent-fics]

Thinking about Sophie’s dramatic death in the “San Lorenzo Job” today and how many Leverage altered things will be written in history books people will have no explanation for.

[yujisdreamgirl]

as the speakers blasted bass boosted music, you sit on the couch with a red cup in your hand, rationing the drink in it because you’re too afraid to go up to the bar alone.

it’s a bit crowded, your friends on the dance floor while you just watch other people rubbing up against each other. not an ideal way to spend your weekend when you have exams coming up but oh well, yolo.

you’re not much of a party person, well- you’ve tried to become one but it just didn’t work. not when it felt awkward to dance and everyone ignored you in conversations. you’ve never felt so unseen.

that was, until…

you felt the couch sink on your right side. you turn your head to see the one and only—“Most Popular” Playboy—Satoru Gojo.

you panic internally, why is he here?!

“hey,” you nod back in response to his greeting, visibly confused on why he’s talking to you—the girl he’s been basically in all of the same classes with since high school but has never uttered a word to?

“you here alone?” you hum in disagreement. he looks out to the crowd of dancers then back at you. “where are your friends?”

okay, now you’re really confused. why is he asking you all of these questions? is this a prank? “oh, uhm.. they’re on the dance floor.” he nods, then eyes your figure up and down.

“i like your ring, it’s from ‘Howl’s Moving Castle’ right?” your eyes light up, you definitely did not expect that. you stutter a bit before letting out a quiet mhm. he asked you to repeat it, and you just nodded. he smiles at you and suddenly you understand why every girl falls for— no, no. no you don’t. you’re not falling for this propaganda!!

“what other animes do you like?”

—

you step into the room upstairs, entering what looked and felt like being at an anime shop. blue walls, posters everywhere, displays of action figures in glass boxes… who knew this popular frat guy would be such a geek??

you spot various pieces of fiction, such as digimon, ghibli movies, 2000s romcoms, resident evil, and so much more!!!

“didn’t take you for a romcom guy.” he chuckles, sitting at the edge of his bed. “yeah, i don’t think anyone does.”

you hum then gasp at his displayed pokémon cards. “is that the pikachu illustrator?! how the hell did you acquire such a rare card??” he chuckles and explains how he got it, he’s rich obviously!

—

the night was long. the speakers still blare from downstairs, but you and gojo talked about the same interests for hours. this definitely wasn’t on your bucket list, ‘befriending’ the most popular guy in school history who also happens to be super similar to you??

in gojo’s eyes, he’s never met a girl like you. call him teruhashi from saiki k because everyone is all over him. he’s never even had a relationship or involved himself in hookups despite being known as a ‘playboy.’ but tonight.. tonight seemed genuine—like you’re not just another person who’s trying to get in his pants.

it can be tiring. despite there being people who would kill to be him, all he wants is someone he can settle down with for life. someone who’s not there for the money or the popularity, but for him. and that’s exactly how he feels about you. 4 hour conversations about films and niche interests? yes please.

his fantasy was cut off by the sound of a ringing phone—of course it was your friends. why did you have to leave the party just because they want to?

“i have to go, it was great talking to you though!” he grips the sheets as you smile, god you were adorable. he waves goodbye, sinking into the sheets as you closed the door behind you.

he’s definitely gonna search for you on campus tomorrow.

͙͘͡★ divider by @cafekitsune 🍡

[lovebugism]

do something with king steve who secretly likes female/shy/reader

hope u like it xoxo — the one where king steve keeps his best girl a secret (shy!fem!r, secret relationship, fluff, 1.2k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

“Boo!”

You jump when a figure appears suddenly behind the door of your opened locker. They’re wearing bell bottoms and a sparkly clip in their strawberry curls. Carol Perkins giggles when her attempts to scare you work. Tommy Hagan follows just behind her, laughing louder until his freckled face scrunches together.

The only reassuring thing about seeing both of them together is knowing Steve isn’t too far behind. He’s got his tongue in his cheek, and his arms crossed over his chest, visibly unamused.  “What are you guys— three?” he scoffs, pushing the sleeves of his sweater up to his elbows.

“Yeah, three inches deep in your mom,” Tommy retorts with a boyish chuckle.

Carol squints her made-up eyes at him. She deadpans, “That’s not the comeback you think it is, Hagan.”

You turn to Steve with a panicked glimmer in your eye. You’re so used to being the butt of all their jokes that being in their proximity now fills you with something close to ice-cold dread. You peer at the boy beside you with pinched-together brows, knowing he’s the only one who cares about you past cheating off your homework.

“What’s going on?” you wonder quietly, for only him to hear.

Steve grins, brows raised and eyes twinkling. “My house is gonna be empty tonight. ‘Cause, you know, my dad’s got a work conference or whatever, so… No parents. Big house—”

“A total recipe for disaster,” Tommy interjects with a laugh.

“You’re throwing a party?” you ask, voice trembling. There’s little more that scares you than crowds — well, crowds and loud music and drunk people. Parties were never your scene. Steve knows that better than anyone.

He corrects you quickly, stammering over himself because he never wants you to feel uncomfortable. “No! No, not a party. It’s gonna be lowkey. Just a— a get-together, you know? Just the four of us.”

“Ooh,” Carol croons from behind you. “So no priss?”

“Shut up, Carol,” Steve snaps.

“I’m just used to you following her around like a lost puppy, that’s all.” Carol and Tommy laugh about it together. ‘Cause that’s all they’re really good at — making stupid jokes and cackling like supervillains.

Steve rolls his eyes with an annoyed huff and turns his attention back to you. You take it from him wholly, every ounce of his focus. 

There was something ethereal in your vagueness — in how softly you spoke and how pretty you looked when you weren’t even trying. You’re quiet and mysterious and hidden. Steve desperately wants to be the one that deciphers you.

“Are you in?” he asks in a low, honeyed tone.

Your gaze falls to the tile. “I don’t know…” you murmur.

“C’mon,” he croons and steps closer to you. His sneakers enter your vision until you look up at him again, peering at him from beneath your lashes. His grin is pink and pretty and lopsided. “Don’t leave me with these assholes all night.”

“Dick,” you hear Tommy scoff from behind you. He sounds much further away than that ‘cause all you can see now is Steve. And his pretty hair and his pretty eyes and his stupid pretty smile.

You cave instantly. 

You never really stood a chance, anyway. Not with the way he was looking at you.

“I’ll think about it,” you mumble and turn back to your locker. You switch your English textbook for a History one and cradle it in your arms. Steve grins, knowing he’s forgotten his on purpose just so he could sit next to you all period.

“Good,” the boy hums.

“We’re finally wearing Wallflower down,” Carol muses, giggling to herself.

Tommy knocks you too hard on the shoulder. “You’ll be one of us in no time,” he grins.

You grimace as they walk off down the hall. That’s the last thing you’ve ever wanted. The thought of there being an ounce of similarities between you and them makes your stomach ache.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Steve tells you, smiling quietly when you nod. 

He reaches into the pocket of his jeans and passes you a folded-up piece of paper. He doesn’t look back at you when he follows his friends down the corridor. You don’t open it until he’s gone.

West wing chem lab, he’s written in chicken scratch. Come find me. 

—————

The hallway at the west end of the school is dim and empty. The floors are untouched, and the lockers are sparingly opened. The air is thick and noticeably stale. You open the door to the old chemistry room with a high-pitched squeak that sounds like something out of a horror movie.

Steve waits for you in the dark classroom, lit only by the natural sunlight streaming in through translucent curtains. He sits at a table in front of the window and toys with the burner at the end of it. He turns the thin blue flame on and off and on again, silently wishing he’d plucked a cigarette from Tommy before he left.

His honey eyes flit to yours when you walk into the room. He grins at the soft smirk on your bitten lips. “What’s that look for, huh?” he teases, turning off the burner and sliding off the desk.

You shrug. “Nothin’…”

“I missed you.”

You scoff when he wraps his arms around you. His wide palms smooth over your back. “You just saw me.”

“It doesn’t count when I’m with Tommy and Carol. I need you all to myself…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs lowly, ducking down to kiss you. His plush lips lock with yours, tasting of nicotine and chewing gum — a near-lethal concoction. He smiles against your mouth when you melt further into him. He parts from you with a gentle smack.

“They’re starting to like me, I think,” you mumble, smoothing your hands over his chest. “Tommy and Carol.”

“I think so, too.”

“It’s awful.”

“Absolutely disgusting,” he concurs, grinning wide when you giggle.

“But, you know, maybe we wouldn’t have to hide anymore,” you stammer, gaze falling when it becomes too hard to hold his. “If they don’t think I’m, like, the lamest person on the planet.”

Steve’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, that’s why you don’t want them to know about us, right? ‘Cause you’re King Steve, and I’m… fish bait,” you conclude with a forced laugh.

“No,” he answers instantly. “What? No. That’s not— That’s not why.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t want them to know about us because they’re assholes,” Steve confesses. “I mean, they were awful to Nancy when we were together. ‘Cause they’re miserable, and they hate when other people are actually nice. I just don’t want them to… ruin anything, that’s all…”

You muss with a rogue thread at the neckline of his sweater and smile quietly to yourself. “I thought you were scared because you accidentally fell in love with the Wallflower instead of the Prom Queen.”

Steve scoffs. “I didn’t accidentally fall in love with you, first of all.”

“No?” you murmur, brow quirking in disbelief. 

“No, it was very intentional.”

“I don’t believe that,” you argue with a lighthearted chuckle. You think it’s easier than saying, I don’t believe you because there’s no way you love someone like me because you want to.

Steve’s palms squeeze your sides reassuringly, like he can hear all the mean thoughts swirling in your head. “Well, you didn’t make it any easier on me,” he tells you, a crooked smile tugging at his pink lips. “You started talkin’ all smart in Ms. Click’s class, and I started melting.”

“That’s when you knew you liked me?” you scoff. “After I gave a presentation about geopolitical tensions in China?”

He exhales sharply through his nose, licking his lips with heavy eyelids. “See what I mean? That’s hot.”

“God, you’re such a boy.”

[katsu28]

first time for everything

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: a lot of things were in the cards for oscar’s first home race. he just wasn’t expecting confessing his love for you to be one of them. (3.3k)

warnings: maybe a swear word idk

a/n: my first oscar fic! not sure if i've got his personality down quite yet but hopefully i've done him justice :)

“You’re nervous.” 

Oscar tore his attention from his phone camera, where he was messing with the swoop of his hair for what had to be the fifth time. He shook his head, though you could probably see right through him. “No, I’m not—I just didn’t sleep that well last night.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you were nervous for today.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“It’s okay to be nervous, Oscar. I’d be more worried if you weren’t.”

You were right, he was nervous about a lot of things—this weekend was his first home race, the first race you were able to attend during his time as a driver for McLaren. But the first thing he learned from competing at this level was to never let his nerves show. Put up a front, make it seem like he was cool as a cucumber so people wouldn’t doubt him, let his skills on the track do all the talking. 

Normally, Oscar was good about that. But you could see right through him. You knew him well enough to know how he was feeling and how to help, even if he himself didn’t quite understand it. 

The story of you and Oscar was quite the cliche, really. He knew of you through a friend of a friend and was instantly intrigued without even meeting you, managed to reach out, and the rest was history. 

You hadn’t even met each other face to face until a month into your constant texting, but when you did finally find the opportunity to meet up in person, it was like you’d both found the other half of yourselves in each other. While Oscar was more of a straight to the point, cut and dry kind of guy, you managed to bring him out of his shell a little bit, to get him to expand his horizons (within reason, of course). 

You were the opposite—always smiling, always happy to try new things, warm and sunshine-y and everything in between. Oscar toned you down without holding you back, reminded you to take a breather before immediately jumping into the next exciting thing, to enjoy what you had while you had it so you wouldn’t miss anything. 

He’d only just gained the courage to ask you out a few months back, but it only seemed fitting that you were here with him for his first race in front of his home crowd.

“It’s a lot to process.” Oscar admitted, letting his shoulders creep up towards his ears in a shrug. You leaned against him, looping an arm through the crook of his elbow and slipping your hand into his for a reassuring squeeze, pressing your chin against his bicep. “I just don’t wanna let anyone down, y’know? Wanna make everyone proud.” 

“You’re going to do great. I promise.” You said firmly, reaching up to push his hair into its perfect place. Oscar nuzzled into your touch on instinct, letting you cradle his cheek in the palm of your hand. Your thumb swept over his cheek a few times, lulling him into a sense of contentment. 

“Forget me. How are you feeling?”

“I’m excited! I’ve never done something like this before.” You replied, letting your hand drop. “And kinda nervous, but it’ll be fine, right?” 

“Yeah, ‘course it will.” 

“Have any sage words of wisdom for a first time paddock goer?” 

“Oh, you know me. Keep your head down, walk fast. There’s gonna be a lot of cameras, lots of fans, they’re all gonna want something from you. I’ll be with you as long as I can, so I’ll be there in case things start to get out of hand.” 

“Can I say hi to the fans?” 

“If you want to, yeah. They already love you.” 

That was another thing Oscar had to be worried about. Today was a day full of firsts, it felt like, because it was also the first time you’d be making your public debut as a couple. You’d already become a fan favorite when the two of you were just friends (two very mutually pining friends, no less), but making your relationship paddock official seemed daunting. 

Oscar wasn’t at all worried about what people would think. In fact, he didn’t really care. He was happier than he’d been in a long time and nothing would change that. What he was worried about was how you’d be treated. Oscar loved the fans, he really did, but there were always that handful who thought they knew him—knew what was best for him. Knew who was best for him. 

If he could protect you from any harm that could possibly be aimed your way, he’d do it in a heartbeat, but things could get so very unpredictable out there. The best he could do was keep you close. 

Your grip on Oscar’s hand tightened just the slightest bit at seeing the sheer amount of people outside the window. Noticing this, he rubbed his thumb along your knuckles soothingly. 

“You don’t have to come along.” He said softly. You tore your eyes away from the passing crowds to look at him. “There’s a back entrance, you can go through there.” 

“No, it’s alright! I’ll be fine.” 

“You sure? It’s okay if you're having second thoughts, sweetheart.” 

“I’m not, I promise. It’s kind of a lot, but nothing I can’t handle.” You said firmly, more for yourself than anything. Oscar squeezed your hand with a soft smile. “If you can do it, I can do it.” 

“There you go. You’ll be the star of the show. Everyone’ll be like Oscar Piastri who? There’s the most beautiful girl in the world, and just some guy.” 

You had to bite back a laugh at his words paired with the deadpan expression gracing his face. Oscar always seemed to know how to get you to relax. 

“Well, you’re the hottest just some guy I’ve ever seen.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, smiling at how his fair skin immediately flamed hot under your lips. 

Despite your previous hesitation, you looked entirely in your element as you made the walk hand in hand, looking around with bright eyes and an even brighter smile. Oscar couldn't help but watch you take it all in, not bothering to mask the awe in his eyes as he did so. He wouldn’t be surprised if photos of him looking at you made it to fan Twitter by the end of the day. 

Oscar was whisked away as soon as you got through to hospitality, giving him barely enough time to say goodbye to you before he was shuttled to meeting after meeting, press conferences and pre race interviews, a thousand things to do in the few hours he had before he had to get ready for free practice. 

He was already exhausted by the time he made it back to his driver’s room, pushing open the door with a heaving sigh. You glanced up at the commotion he was making, smiling at him warmly and setting aside your phone.

“Hey, you,” You hummed, holding out your arms towards Oscar as soon as he closed the door behind him. 

“Hi.” Oscar sighed, folding you into his embrace as comfortably as he could in the cramped alcove. There was barely enough room for one person on the bench, let alone you and your boyfriend with his broad shoulders. You shifted sideways to solve the problem, throwing your legs over Oscar’s lap, to which his hand immediately came to rest on your knee. “I missed you.” 

“Wish I could say the feeling was mutual.” You teased. Oscar rolled his eyes goodnaturedly, giving your leg a gentle pinch that you giggled at before leaning in to press a quick peck to his cheek. “I missed you too.” 

“What did you get up to while I was gone?” 

“Oh, so much! I took a walk around the paddock just to check everything out, and I kinda got lost, but someone helped me find my way back eventually.” You shrugged, not noticing the way Oscar’s eyebrows flew up into his hairline. 

“Wait, you got lost? Why didn’t you call me?” 

“You were busy.” You said, very as-a-matter-of-factly. He blinked at you slowly, a blank expression present on his face. “I’m a big girl, Osc, I can find my way around just fine.”  

That made Oscar falter. You were right. He cared so much, especially about you—so much so that sometimes he forgot you were entirely capable of taking care of yourself. 

“A lot of people asked to take pictures with me. Me! Isn’t that crazy?” You exclaimed, beaming bright. “I promised one of them your sweaty fireproofs in return, but that’s beside the point.” 

“You what?” He spluttered, eyes widening almost comically. His fingers froze in their fiddling with the rings adorning your fingers. 

“I’m kidding, obviously. Lighten up, Oscie, jeez.” 

Oscar rolled his eyes playfully. “Right, well I’m glad you’re having fun.” 

“You know what would make this day even more fun?” 

“I don’t think I want to.” 

You stuck your tongue out at him before continuing. “Can I meet Charles Leclerc? Is that something you can pull off?” 

Technically speaking, it would be extremely easy for him to pull off. All he really had to do was bring you over to the Ferrari motorhome for a quick introduction, and he was sure Charles would take a liking to you, just like every other driver you’d gotten to meet so far. You had that kind of persona; one that made people want to get to know you. 

Oscar quite liked that about you. What he wouldn’t like as much was you being immediately wooed by the driver’s seemingly irresistible French charm. And yeah, you were Oscar’s girlfriend and Charles also had a girlfriend of his own, but still. Nobody wanted to see the girl they loved fawning over another man, even one as cool as Charles Leclerc.

But Oscar would never tell you that, because he loved you, and he’d do anything to make you happy. 

“Uh…yeah, sure. I could probably get you an intro, if that’s something you really want.” He heard himself saying, scratching the back of his neck. His heart thudded a little harder in his chest at the way your face lit up. 

“Really?” 

Oscar smiled tightly. “Why not? D’you wanna go now? There’s some time before we need to be on track.” 

“That would be amazing, Osc.” 

“Right then, let’s go.” He nudged your legs off him, heaving himself to his feet with a groan that would usually be associated with someone much older than him. You threaded your fingers through his as soon as he finished popping all his joints like an old man, following his lead out of the room and the motorhome, all the way to the bright Ferrari red building a few doors down. 

Luckily, Charles was sitting at one of the tables in the main area, so you didn’t have to look far to find him. 

“Charles, mate, you got a second?” 

The aforementioned Monegasque tore his attention from his phone upon hearing Oscar’s voice, an easygoing smile already present on his face. “Oscar! What can I do for you, mate?” His eyes found you next, and he nodded politely. “Hello!” 

“Hi.” You said quietly, clinging to Oscar’s hand tightly. This feeling was foreign to you. You’d never been so stunned into silence by someone before, but maybe that was because you’d never met someone as well known as the Charles Leclerc. 

“This is my girlfriend. It’s her first time in the paddock and she’s a big fan of yours, figured I could introduce the two of you. Y/N, Charles. Charles, Y/N.” 

“Ah, yes, I’ve heard much about you!” Charles exclaimed, popping to his feet. He moved forward to embrace you, wrapping you in a warm hug like he’d known you for a long time, let alone just met you not even fifteen seconds ago. 

Oscar never really understood the whole hugging thing Charles had going on. Maybe it was a French thing. Either way, the hug seemed to have shaken you out of whatever starstruck daze you were in, because you straightened up. 

Charles smiled warmly. “Welcome to your first race. I trust they are treating you well over at McLaren?” 

“There’s definitely a few perks.” You replied, returning his infectious smile. You squeezed Oscar’s hand as you said it, and part of him felt a smidge proud that you considered him a perk. Charles laughed goodnaturedly. “I hate to sound so forward, but I wanted to say I love your music. The way you play piano is…the only way I can think to describe it is beautiful.” 

“Oh wow, you—thank you! That means a lot, thank you. Do you play?” 

“A little bit, but I haven’t had much time to sit at the bench lately.” You replied, giving a haphazard shrug. Charles nodded sympathetically, like he understood the troubles of carving out time to play. “D’you mind if I ask you a bit more about your inspiration while I’ve got you?”

“Of course, yes, yes, I would love to talk about it!” 

Oscar touched a hand to the small of your back to snag your attention for a second. He liked music as much as the next person, but not as much as you and Charles, it seemed. “I’ll be over there.” 

You nodded, popping up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek before returning to your animated conversation with Charles. 

Now, Oscar wasn’t a jealous guy by any means. On the contrary he was always quite calm and collected, so he thought he’d be fine. Secretly a little miffed, sure. It was nothing he couldn’t handle, but actually seeing you go starry eyed while talking to Charles sparked something inside him. He didn’t know how hard he was squeezing the can in his hand until he felt liquid trickling down the sleeve of his fireproofs. 

“Ah, shit.” He muttered, shaking out his arm frustratedly. 

“Stare at her any harder and she might burst into flames, mate.” 

Oscar glanced to his left to see Lando standing there, arms crossed over his chest, expectant brow arched. 

“Dunno know what you’re talking about.” Oscar grumbled, moving to toss the now crumpled can into the nearest rubbish bin. Lando looked wildly unconvinced. “What?” 

“Don’t feed me that shit, Oscar, you’re way too easy to read for me to believe you’re not absolutely fucking in love with Y/N.” 

Oscar made an offended noise from the back of his throat. “I am not easy to read.” 

“Mate, you’re the openest book in the history of open books right now.” 

“Openest isn’t a word.” 

“Whatever! Stop deflecting.” Lando scoffed, wrinkling his nose. “You love her. Tell her that.” 

“I can’t. I mean, I shouldn’t.” 

“Why not?” 

“What if it’s too soon? What if she doesn’t feel the same way yet?” 

“You’re kidding, right? Please tell me you’re kidding.” Lando groaned, letting his head tilt back in exasperation. Oscar squinted at him, unamused. “Oh, you’re serious? Mate, come on. Just today, in the half a day I’ve known her, I’ve seen the way she looks at you when you’re not looking. I see the way you look at her when she’s not looking. It’s obvious. You’re both obnoxiously in love with each other, and it’s sickening.” 

The corners of Oscar’s mouth lifted into a grin. “Really?” 

“Oh my god, yes, really. I mean honestly, how dense can you be?” 

“A lot, it seems.” Oscar cast another glance at you, feeling a lot better than he had a few minutes ago. You were laughing at something Charles had said, but now all that was running through his mind was how pretty you looked when you laughed. How happy you looked talking to a person you held a lot of admiration for. Professional admiration, nothing more. 

Part of him felt a little guilty. He should’ve been supportive the whole time, not sulking around being a jealous little prick thinking you would ever choose Charles over him. 

“No point in overthinking it now, bro.” 

“Since when did you become such a wise old man?” 

“Oi, watch it, you muppet. I’m only two years older than you.” Lando huffed, rolling his eyes. “And I’ve always been wise, thank you for noticing.” 

“Sure you have.” 

“Tell her.” 

Oscar nodded once, accepting the clap on the shoulder Lando gave him. “I will. Thank you.” 

“Of course. And if you ever need any more advice, come on down to Lando’s love shack, where you can get—” 

“Leave now, I’m begging you.” Lando took the hint, wandering away to go wreak havoc somewhere else, leaving Oscar alone with his own thoughts as he waited for you to finish up. It wasn’t long until you were making your way back over, practically aglow with excitement as you approached him. “Made a new best friend, have you?” 

You snorted, clearly amused. “Oh, of course. We’ve already arranged to go on a double date when we’re all in Monaco at the same time.” 

“Ha ha, very funny. You do know Ferrari’s one of our top competitors, right?” Oscar laced his fingers through yours once more, letting your joined hands swing between the two of you as you walked. 

“You know what they say—keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. Consider my blossoming friendship with Charles your way into the heart and soul of Ferrari’s strategies. You’re welcome.” 

You were just joking, of course, and it made Oscar smile. Lando was right. Oscar was in love with you. He tugged you off the main path suddenly, leading you to a more secluded area between motorhomes. 

“Osc? What’re you—” You were entirely cut off by him stopping in his tracks, and before you could comprehend what was happening, he was kissing you. He curled a hand around the back of your neck, the other coming up to cup your cheek gently. 

It was by all means a sweet kiss, but a completely unexpected one nonetheless. Oscar had never been a public display of affection sort of guy before, so for him to kiss you out of the blue where anyone could see you…well, let's just say there was a first time for everything.

To say you were taken aback was an understatement. You let out a noise of surprise, but returned his kiss wholeheartedly as soon as you realized what was happening. 

“That was new.” You breathed as soon as he pulled away, splaying your palms across the firm plane of his chest to steady yourself after he’d kissed the living daylights out of you. Oscar’s eyes fluttered open slowly, a dazed grin stretching his lips. “You feeling alright, babe?” 

“I love you.” 

Immediately, you beamed, lighting up faster than a bonfire on a warm Melbourne night. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Well, it’s about damn time you said it.” You poked his chest playfully, stifling a giggle at the way he did the biggest double take ever at your words. 

“You—hang on, what?” 

“I was waiting for you to be the one to say it first.” You shrugged. Oscar’s brow scrunched in confusion now. “Didn’t wanna scare you off and lose one of the best things in my life.” 

“So…you do feel the same way?” 

You reached up, smoothing a stray curl away from his forehead fondly. “Do I love you? ‘Course I do. I think I’ve loved you since the first time we met.” 

“That was a good one, I should’ve said that. You’re so much better at this than I am.” 

“What can I say? I’ve got the best just some guy as my inspiration.” 

“I see what you did there. That’s gonna become a thing now, isn’t it?” 

“Oh, Osc,” You sighed, patting his cheek affectionately. “It already has.” 

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[keraawrites]

Not so secret

Summary: It was his third year, he was being announced as one of the big three and as a treat, pro heroes were coming to UA to congratulate them. He should have known you'd pull something like this. ۶ৎ Bakugo x pro hero!black fem reader ۶ৎ

Context: established relationship, reader is a year older, fingering, missionary, slight (if you squint)sub-Bakugo, unprotected sex, cocky reader, voyeurism(?) This one is a little shorter

Word count — 3.7k

Babble; Big three!Bakugo won the poll with 43.2%. I deffo manifested this because I was working on this one more, hope you like ᥫ᭡.

It wasn’t a surprise to him. From his first-year sports festival, people had been saying he was going to be one of the next Big Three. But he didn’t need people to tell him. He knew he was going to be on top. But hearing it just made it sweet to taste.

Bakugo leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, ankle resting on his knee as he stared ahead with his usual scowl. The entire class had been gathered in the gym, sitting on the bleachers while Aizawa stood lazily in front of them, half-buried in his capture weapon like he’d rather be anywhere else.

"Why the hell are we here again?" He muttered, tapping his fingers against his arm impatiently.

“You’re not listening?” Kaminari grinned, leaning forward from his seat. “Dude, they’re bringing in three former UA students—pros—to meet you, Todoroki, and Midoriya.”

Bakugo scoffed, uninterested. “And?”

"And," Mina jumped in, practically bouncing in her seat, "it's a BIG DEAL! They're basically here to knight you three. You should at least pretend to care!"

“Yeah, man,” Kirishima elbowed him. “You don’t think it’s kinda cool? You’re officially being recognized as one of the best in UA history.”

Bakugo clicked his tongue. “Tch. I don’t need some formal bullshit to know I’m the best. I already won.”

“You got second place in the sports festival, though,” Sero pointed out with a teasing grin.

Bakugo’s eye twitched. “The fuck did you just say, soy face!?”

Sero lifted his hands in surrender. “I’m just saying—”

“Say it again, I dare you.”

Before Sero could dig his grave any deeper, Aizawa finally cut through the murmuring of the class.

“Settle down,” he drawled, rubbing his temples. “I’d rather not waste more time on this than necessary. We have guests who will formally welcome UA’s next generation of top heroes. Don’t embarrass yourselves.”

“Too late for that,” Jirou muttered under her breath.

Then the gym doors swung open.

The room immediately went silent, a wave of anticipation rolling through the students as three figures stepped inside.

Bakugo had barely been paying attention—until he saw you.

His smirk dropped so fast it was embarrassing.

You walked in like you owned the place. Confident. Effortless. That same cocky grin he’d kissed a thousand times playing on your lips. Your braids were tied up, neat, but he knew you’d probably gone through three different styles this morning just trying to get it “right” for the event. Dark skin glowing under the bright-ass lights of the gym, eyes scanning the crowd like you were looking for someone.

Not him. Not directly.

“Holy crap, no way!” Kaminari whispered, leaning toward Kirishima. “UA’s last big three! And she’s here?! She’s like… top ten in the rankings now, right?”

“Ninth,” Todoroki corrected, watching you carefully.

“She’s so cool,” Mina whispered, practically vibrating. “She’s like the second youngest after Hawks to make top ten, only was a sidekick for 6 months before debuting on her own.”

The other two former Big Three members were right behind her, walking in with just as much presence. Bakugo barely remember them, yeah he probably glanced at their faces as they roamed the halls but they weren’t pros yet, lowly sidekicks. But Bakugo wasn’t paying attention to them, he was too busy pretending he wasn’t looking at you, while also trying to gauge if you was gonna be a little shit and make this difficult for him.

You guys hadn’t talked about this. Hadn’t planned for it.

Sure, you were both busy as hell, you hadn’t seen each other all week and yeah, your relationship wasn’t exactly public—hell, only your parents knew. But the fact that you were here now, standing a few meters away, was making his palms itch.

“Damn, she’s so fine,” Sero muttered under his breath.

"Fuuckk, I remember I had a huge crush on her in first year, her ass was always something"

Mina elbowed them both. “Have some respect!”

“I am respecting,” Kaminari whispered. “Very much.”

Bakugo’s jaw clenched. His hands twitched, as it itched to choke the life out of Dunce face. He was fighting the urge to blast a hole in the wall just to let out some steam.

He was cursing you ten ways to Sunday as he watched you take the stage.

The three graduates made their way to the podium, standing in a line as Aizawa finally spoke up.

“These three were UA’s last Big Three before graduating,” he explained. “Each of them is currently making a name for themselves in the pro hero world. They’ve returned today to acknowledge our next generation of top students—Todoroki, Midoriya, and Bakugo.”

Applause ran throughout the gym, the blonde kissed his teeth as he watched you take the mic and introduce yourself. Not like everyone didn't know who you guys were. You were older than him, graduating from UA last year, he wouldn't admit it to you but he had the biggest crush on you and was damn glad when you made the first move.

You had done a mission with him, Todoroki and Deku during his first year after the war and one thing led to another and you guys slept together. The blonde told you that he didn't do things half-assed and that you were his girlfriend, he remembers the way you giggled, the way your eyes lit up like it was all part of your plan.

"Now please welcome first to the stage, Izuku Midoryia-- Deku." The green haired boy had grown since first year, ever since his appology to the freckled boy Bakugo had unofficially claimed him as his childhood friend but that didn't mean he had gone soft on the boy.

Deku enthusiastically shook all your hands and thanked the teachers before taking his spot on the stage. "Next, Shoto Todoroki —Shoto." The two out of the three graduates had called up Deku and Icy hot and he knew this was on puprose, he knew you had something to do with this because you loved doing this shit.

"And finally, please welcome, the final of the Big Three; Katsuki Bakugo—Dynamight."

Bakugo pushed himself up, his movements sharp as he made his way to the stage, the sound of the applause ringing in his ears as his sharp gaze landed on you. He saw the way your eyes lit up with something as you watched him, his palms tingled as he tried to pin point the look on your eyes.

Like you were about to do something stupid.

And he was right.

The second he got close, your smirk deepened, and before he could even extend a hand, you did something no one expected.

You leaned in, voice dropping to something almost sultry.

“Well, well, well,” you purred, loud enough for the entire gym to hear. “If it isn’t my favourite rising star.”

The room went silent.

Bakugo froze.

Oh. Hell no.

You stepped closer, slow, deliberate, like a cat playing with its food. “I’ve been rooting for you all along Dynamight.”

A few gasps. A few muffled snickers.

Bakugo’s eye twitched.

“Wha—?” Kaminari choked. “What is happening?”

“I—is she flirting with him!?” Mina whispered, eyes wide.

Bakugo clenched his fists, heat creeping up his neck as you smirked at him, brown eyes sparkling as you watched him fail to keep the blush from creeping up his neck.

“Cut that shit out,” he hissed under his breath.

You just winked. Winked.

His face went hot.

Bakugo grit his teeth so hard it was a miracle they didn’t crack. He knew you were doing this on purpose. Embarrassing him in front of the whole damn third year just because you could.

And judging by the wide grins and hushed whispers spreading through the bleachers, it was working.

Before he could explode—literally—you finally let up, laughing as your hand clapped his shoulder.

“For real though,” you said, tone shifting just slightly, “you earned this. You’ve been a beast since day one, and you didn’t need anyone to tell you that. But congrats anyway.”

He exhaled sharply, yanking his shoulder away from her hand. “Damn right.”

You chuckled, stepping back. “Alright, now that I’ve sufficiently embarrassed your resident human grenade—”

More laughs. More murmurs. Bakugo swore to kill you later.

"Please give a round of applause to UA's new Big Three!"

You grinned as younger students swarmed around, wide-eyed and eager, notebooks and pens outstretched. Word got out that UA’s top graduates were visiting, and now half the school wanted a signature or a moment of your time.

After signing a few last-minute autographs, you and your fellow colleagues finally made your way into Class 3-A. The energy in the room was electric—excitement, curiosity, and the buzz of an audience waiting for a good story.

Aizawa sat at his desk, arms crossed, looking about two seconds from falling asleep. But knowing him? He didn’t miss a thing.

It wasn’t every day UA’s most successful recent graduates came back—especially not when one of them was the youngest pro since Hawks.

You hopped onto a desk, one leg crossed over the other, golden-brown skin glowing under the classroom lights. Out of costume, you looked relaxed, but that quiet confidence? Yeah, that never faded.

Iida cleared his throat. “What was the hardest part about transitioning from UA to pro hero work?”

Titan, your fellow graduate, didn’t miss a beat. “The responsibility. The second your a sidekick— assigned to an agency, everything is on you—your wins, your losses. No backup plan.”

You nodded. “And the expectations. One mistake, and suddenly, you’re trending for all the wrong reasons.”

Midoriya scribbled furiously in his notebook.

Todoroki tilted his head. “Speaking of expectations,” he said, fixing you with an even stare, “you made the top ten this year. What’s it like being the youngest pro since Hawks?”

A smirk tugged at your lips. “Exhausting.”

The class chuckled.

“No one took me seriously at first,” you admitted. “Older heroes looked at me like I was a kid playing dress-up. Had to work twice as hard just to be seen as an equal. Especially as I’m a female.”

Jirou scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. You were making headlines before you even graduated.”

“Didn’t stop the old guys in hero agencies from treating me like some intern who wandered in by accident,” you said dryly. “Made it that much more satisfying when I crushed bitches in the rankings.”

The class laughed and cheered at your outburst and as they settled down you noticed something sparkling in the pink skinned girls black eyes.

“Ohh, speaking of Hawks—”

Bakugo, who had been silent this entire time, visibly tensed.

“What about him?”

Mina smirked. “The dating rumors.”

A ripple of interest swept through the class. Even Aizawa raised an eyebrow.

You rolled your eyes. “The Hawks thing? Completely fake.”

Mina pouted. “Really? So you never—”

“Never.”

The class groaned dramatically.

“Ohhh. So who are you dating then?”

You grinned, tilting your head. “Who says I am?”

Denki leaned forward. “C’mon, you totally are. How can you expect me to believe no one’s bagged you up yet?”

Sero snickered. “But, judging by the way you were flirting with Bakugo at the assembly…”

The blonde’s eye twitched.

“Oh yeah,” Mina grinned. “You were all over him.”

“That was just teasing,” you said smoothly, trying to steer the conversation away.

Denki smirked. “Sooo… you’re single, then?”

Sero elbowed him. “Dude, read the room.”

“What?” Denki threw his hands up. “I’m just saying! She’s hot, confident, and single! I have to shoot my shot.”

“She’s also older than you,” Mina pointed out.

You smirked at the chaos.

“Only by a year,” Denki countered. “Plus—“ he leaned closer, eyes heavy on your exposed thighs, “I like an older woman.”

Bakugo’s palm crackled.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY?”

The class jumped.

Denki blinked. “Uh… That I like an older woman?”

Bakugo shot up so fast his chair nearly toppled over. “Like hell she would ever date you!?”

“Dude. Why are you so mad?”

“I’M NOT—” Bakugo stopped mid-yell. Realising, too late, that he had no escape. Exhaled sharply. Scowled.

“She’s not single, you dumbasses.”

Silence.

Then—

“WHAT?!”

Mina nearly fell out of her chair.

Denki’s brain short-circuited. “No. No, no, no.”

“WE’VE BEEN DATING FOR OVER A YEAR, AND IF YOU TWO IDIOTS KEEP FLIRTING WITH HER, I’M GONNA BLOW YOU THROUGH THE WALL.”

The class erupted.

Kirishima gasped. “Bro, why didn’t you say anything?”

Bakugo grit his teeth. “Because we made it official right before she debuted. We didn’t need the press all over it.”

Mina shrieked. “YOU HID THIS FOR THAT LONG?!”

Denki collapsed onto his desk. “This is the worst day of my life.”

Sero whistled. “Damn. No wonder you looked extra pissed when she flirted with you at the assembly.”

“BECAUSE SHE DID IT ON PURPOSE!” Bakugo snapped, crimson eyes snapping towards you.

You shrugged, grinning. “Can’t prove anything.”

“YOU’RE A MENACE.”

Kirishima wiped a fake tear. “Proud of you, bro.”

The teasing escalated—an interrogation, an existential crisis from Denki, and at least fifteen different versions of How the hell did Bakugo of all people get a girlfriend?

Finally, Aizawa sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Enough,” he said, voice cutting through the chaos. “Lesson’s over. Go back to your dorms.”

Aizawa barely got his words out before Bakugo dragged you out of the room, you giggled as you waved goodbye to the class. You could feel how firm he was holding your wrist as he dragged you down the endless halls. Your stomach bubbled with nerves, knowing he was riled up enough-- riled up so much that he wasn't thinking straight.

He pushed you into an empty classroom, the door slamming shut behind you, leaving just the two of you in the quiet, dimly lit space.

Bakugo didn’t let go of your wrist at first. His grip was firm, his breathing steady but deep—like he was holding something back.

You arched a brow. “So, you planning to throw me through a wall or what?”

His jaw tightened, and instead of answering, he let go and ran a hand through his hair, pacing a few steps away.

“You just had to do that, huh?” His voice was low, rough.

You leaned against the desk, arms crossed. “What, flirt with you? That’s nothing new.”

He scoffed. “No, dumbass. I meant letting the whole damn class find out like that.”

Your smirk grew. “I wasn’t the one who yelled it.”

Bakugo’s glare was sharp, but his ears burned red. “Because those morons wouldn’t stop flirting with you!”

Your amusement only deepened. “Jealous?”

His hands clenched into fists. He didn’t answer. Just exhaled sharply, his whole body tense, like he was trying to hold something back.

You watched him for a second before stepping closer, your voice softer now. “Katsuki.”

His gaze snapped to you.

You reached out, fingertips grazing his wrist. “You know they were gonna find out eventually, right?”

He swallowed, his eyes flickering down to where your hand touched his skin. The contrast of your skin colours always amazed him, made him feel special that you got the best girl in the world.

His body was still so tense, muscles tight with frustration, but there was something else underneath it—something heavier.

Finally, his shoulders dropped slightly. “I liked that it was just ours.”

Your chest ached at that.

Because, yeah. You got it.

For a whole year and a half, it had just been the two of you. No press, no speculation, no outside noise. Just whispered conversations, stolen touches, shared bedsheets and mornings tangled up together.

You remember your first date, you both had been busy with your internships, so the blonde made time for the both of you. He brought you to his parents house and cooked dinner for you, you remmeber how sweet it was, how on the outisde he was an angry little Pomeranian but on the inside he was a totally softy.

All for you.

Your teasing melted into something real as you reached up, cupping his face. “Hey,” you murmured. “We’re still us. No matter who knows.”

His breath hitched just slightly, eyes watching yours as if he was searching for something. But before you could question him, he moved.

One second, you were standing in front of him, and the next, your back was against the desk, his hands gripping your hips, his body pressing flush against yours.

Your breath caught as his face dipped close, his voice rough and low.

“They don’t get to have this.”

His fingers dug into your waist.

“They don’t get you.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs. “Katsuki—”

His lips crashed into yours.

The kiss was hot and needy, all frustration and pent-up tension pouring into the way he devoured you. You missed him, so God damn much.

His hands roamed, sliding under the hem of your shirt, fingers burning against your skin as he pulled you closer.

You gasped against his mouth, and he growled—actually growled—before lifting you onto the desk, his body slotting between your legs as he deepened the kiss.

You moaned lowly, his hands griping against the inside of your thighs as he pressed into you. You smiled through the kiss, remembering the countless of times you guys snuck into empty classrooms for quickies was, how you ended up in this position more times than you can count.

You pulled off his blazer, his hands prying your legs open as his fingers worked their way up your skirt, his thumb brushing up against the side of your panties. Your thighs clench as you feel the ghost of his skin against yours, a small whimper leaves your lips as his trail down the side of your neck.

"This is going to be fast, haven't touched you in days."

You chuckle, moaning as he bit down on the skin of your neck. You put your hands down his trousers, fingers grazing against his cock. Gripping it softly causing him to bite down harder.

"O-oi! Wh-what you tryna do!?" His eyes met yours, cheeks reddened slightly, he was used to your tricks, always playing dirty when you guys had sex-- always trying to throw him off his game but that never stopped him.

You fluttered your lashes at him, faux innocent look in your eyes as your hand pawed at his cock. "Thought this was gonna be fast, yet you've barely touched me, Kats."

The blonde had to breathe through his nose to physically stop himself from busting prematurely, your hands were always slightly cold, it always felt good against his skin and especially good against his cock.

You loved watching him lose control from your touch, he was always in control— over everything but the moment you two came together, he gave his life to you and you gladly took control of it.

"Fuuuuuck." His hands twitched against your thighs, fingers finally pulling your panties aside before he buried them deep into your sopping cunt.

You sank your teeth into your lip, stifling a moan as he thrust another finger in, he began a ruthless pace of curling his fingers inside you, driving you absolutely insane, your eyes slightly rolling as you continued to stiffle your moans.

His hips shifted, a slight groan leaving his lips from the felling of your hand around him, the feeling of your wet cunt around his fingers.

Fuck. It was all too much, he needed to feel you.

You whined, the loss of his fingers causing you to snap your eyes open. Your lips parted, wanting to know why he stopped but the wind was knocked out of you once he pushed inside of you with one swift thrust, hissing from the newfound feeling of your warmth, Katsuki placed his arms around your waist, the table shifting underneath you as he held you tightly against him.

You'd taken a moment to catch your breath, you never got over the pleasurable stretch his cock gave you every time you fucked.

You pulled his neck down to you, your lips ghosting over his, cunt clenching around him as you begged for him to move.

Your whispers filtered his ears, your arms locked around the back of his neck, fingers pulling slightly against the hairs that stood at the nape of his neck. He hummed at your words, thrusting into you slowly.

" You always remind me of how addicting this pussy is...fuck.."

Your legs tightened around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer to you, "Stop being a tease, Kats."

"I'll do whatever the fuck I want." His pace became relentless, moans escaped your lips, the sensation overwhelming as he began to move, each thrust filled with raw passion and urgency.

“Fuck mama, you feel so good,” he groaned,

“Harder, Katsuki,” you gasped, the pleasure building within you, urging him on. “Want all of you—please, baby."

He obliged, his movements becoming more frantic, more desperate, as he lost himself in you. The classroom echoed with the sounds of your pleasure, the sounds your pussy made was music to his ears.

Fuck, he could listen to all the sounds you made for the rest of his life.

“Fuck, I missed this,” he panted, his voice thick with desire. “Missed you.”

His lips found the base of your throat, you clenched around him as you felt how fast your orgasm was approaching. The sounds of your moans got louder as he continued to work you, his hands on the plush of your thighs began to heat up.

"Ah! 'Suki-gonna cum!"

"Go 'head baby- fuuuck, it's all yours."

He grunted into your neck, rolling his hips against yours. His pleads and whimpers clouded your mind, the way his cock rubbed against the spongy spot deep inside youn had your vision blackened.

You could feel the tension building, the knot inside you ready to snap—along with your ability to think clearly. You were too lost in ecstasy, your head falling back, mouth slightly open in a silent gasp.

"Oh- fuckfuckfuckkk, I'm- Shiiittt!"

His mouth claimed yours, muffling your moans as pleasure overtook you both. You cunt welcomed the warm spurts of his seed as he continued to pump into you. Your breathing slowed but your lips continued to work together softly.

You could feel him soften inside you, your lips pulled apart, string of saliva in its wake as his eyes dropped down to where the two of you were connected, a mixture of your juices seeping out onto the table beneath you.

"Tsk" his forhead dropped to yours. "Damned brat, did you do all this just for some dick?"

You hummed, nails scratching along his scalp, "So what if I did?"

The blonde kissed his teeth, pinching your thighs softly before pulling out of you. He felt cold, not liking the idea of having to leave your body so soon but he knew you probably had to get back.

You could hear the buzz from his phone in his pocket, as you quickly fixed yourselves. Hid brows furrowing as he fished it out after helping clean up.

A chuckle left his lips, a swell of pride heating up his blood as he looked at lastest trending posts on twitter. You blinked, eyes adjusted to the light as he shoved the phone in your face.

"Looks like we just debuted."

You blinked at the picture of you two, shaking your head you knew the blonde had to have posted it earlier because it was his Lock Screen.

Pro hero H/N and rising star Bakugo said to be dating!

𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘮𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘢𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 ©

[tanghuyuj]

do you think you could love me?

genre: fluff, classmates to ??, high school au

pairing: non-idol!woonhak x gn!reader

synopsis: woonhak’s relationships always lack seriousness, ending with the other doing something that breaks his heart. all he wants is to commit to someone and for them to commit to him as well. fortunately, you might be just that.

warnings: food (dumplings and sikhye which is a korean rice drink), they get in trouble, woonhak has a mentioned history with girls, little jihoon cameo, random teacher ocs, yn has a habit of biting their inner cheek

wc: 2.8k

maia’s note: woonhak oneshot we cheered!! this is inspired by the song ‘do you think you could love me?’ by yung kai and it’s such a cute song so i recommend listening to it ^o^ this work is also kinda in celebration of 300 followers sooo. enjoy reading!! reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!! 🤍

woonhak says he doesn’t believe in true love. yet he is always, in one way or another, in some kind of romantic relationship.

no, he isn’t a player (or at least, he doesn’t think he is), it’s just that every experience of his has ended up having a dramatic, horrible downfall.

he meets a girl, she promises him that she is unbelievably smitten, and then proceeds to either cheat or end their relationship with some sappy, strange, and/or stupid reason. ‘the three s’s’ is what he calls it.

at first, he thought it was just bad luck—a silly curse, maybe—but he very soon realized that true love simply and sadly does not exist. for him, that is.

read under the cut! ⬇️

still, woonhak finds himself in romantic relationships that lack in seriousness left and right. he can’t quite pin a certain period of time where he didn’t have romantic involvement in his life. it could just be that he doesn’t know how to live his life without it, but woonhak can’t exactly admit that yet and keeps on chasing.

and with each breakup, each ghosting, each whatever the situation is—he finds himself digging the hole deeper down.

he wonders often if he’s ever going to see the light from the surface that has been hidden his whole life.

“woonhak!”

he turns to his right to find his friend, jihoon, calling him.

the ends of jihoon’s eyes are crinkled in frustration and his face conveys a clearly upset expression.

“do you know how long i’ve been calling your name?” the boy sighs. “you were sitting here, blanking out and staring off like you’re insane. in fact, you are insane.”

woonhak blinks. his eyebrows furrow in realization of jihoon’s words.

“i’m not insane. you’re insane!” he grumbles.

jihoon scoffs, leaning down and resting his arms on woonhak’s desk. “yeah, yeah, sure. the teacher told us to put our desks back into regular formation. that’s why i was calling you, you weirdo.”

woonhak rests his head on his arms. “why does that matter to me? i don’t have a seat partner.”

“well, it matters to you now. we have a new kid coming.” jihoon pushes himself off the desk and stands again, putting his hands in his pockets.

woonhak jumps in his seat and sits up straight. “wait—what? there’s a new kid?”

jihoon nods, “yep!”

a curiosity arises inside woonhak as he wonders who this person is—especially if they’re gonna be his desk partner.

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

woonhak is, as he would say it, currently as ‘single as a pringle.’

sure, there are a few people asking for a form of attention from him, but he isn’t in anything serious and definitely doesn’t have a commitment currently.

with his last breakup, the girl ghosted him out of nowhere.

then, during the following days, they saw each other at school and she would quickly walk away, pretending as if her and woonhak had no relation between them and never once did.

only a few days later was when a friend of woonhaks spotted her with a new guy and woonhak was left with another piece of his heart broken off.

when woonhak meets you, he simply stares.

he watches as you walk into the room, approach the seat next to him, and sits down right there with a small few inches between you two.

he seems to have no shame in doing so since this gaze lasts for basically what is the whole entire day.

the next day starts the same way. woonhak ogles you throughout the morning as if studying your every action.

though, it gets put on pause midday.

your teacher is in the middle of a lecture and about everyone in class is dozing off; daydreaming about a good meal and chatting with some friends. lunch was soon.

woonhak was part of that majority until he notices your hand sliding over to his desk and gesturing him to read something on your notebook.

‘do you have an obsession?’

woonhak’s eyes widen.

he picks up his pencil, scrambling to quickly scribble down on the paper.

‘what do u mean?’

you slide the notebook closer to you, writing a response.

‘what is so interesting about me, woonhak?’

woonhak doesn’t necessarily think he is an easy man, but perhaps this was being proven wrong as his heart skips a beat.

you know his name. this isn’t a big thing at all, so why is his heart thinking otherwise?

he writes down a reply without thinking and you watch him attentively.

‘ure pretty’

he stares at his writing for a moment before realizing what he just wrote down.

he gasps, and a loud, disruptive sound releases from out of his mouth.

your teacher turns towards your desk with a stern look plastered on his face.

“do you have something to share with us all, kim woonhak?”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

the notebook gets confiscated.

and now, you and woonhak are sitting in your school’s office. your teacher is sitting in front of you with a stone-cold expression.

he starts, “yn, it has only been one day since you have been here and you have already caused trouble.”

you look at woonhak, who’s staring directly at you. you wish that the stupid, brainless expression on his face would falter even once. to you dismay, it does not, though.

you turn back to your teacher. “i’d like to correct you, mr. lee, in the nicest way possible.”

you frown, continuing to speak, “i didn’t cause any trouble. it was him.” you make a waving gesture to woonhak, thinking the look on his face will now form into something more shocked.

it doesn’t.

he stays looking straight at you. a warm, increasingly hot feeling boils in you.

mr. lee, who now stares at the two of you with a confused manner, looks to woonhak. he scans him before saying, “woonhak, is this true?”

“yes, sir. yn is right.” he continues to stare at you and his words come out with almost no hesitation. the corners of his lips turn upward into a cheeky smile. “it was all my fault. i mean—you heard me. i was the one who disrupted the class.”

the middle-aged man nods slowly. “alright.” he writes on a small piece of paper, pressing the pen against it a little too roughly.

mr. lee hands the slip to woonhak. “i hope this is not a common occurrence from here on out. if so, i’ll have to separate you two as desk mates.”

woonhak grabs the slip and gives the teacher a small smirk.

“it won’t sir.”

while leaving the office, woonhak’s steps tread lightly as if he didn’t just get assigned detention. you decide to stop him.

“hey, woonhak.”

he turns. “what’s up?”

you bite the inside of your cheek; a habit of yours.

“sorry. you didn’t have to go along with what i was saying, you know.”

he shrugs. “it’s fine. one detention won’t kill.”

he takes a step closer to you.

“if you do want to make it up to me though..” he offers you the detention slip.

you furrow your eyebrows. scoffing, you reply, “i’m not going to detention for you.”

he shakes his head, taking your hand and putting the paper in it. the touch of his soft hands makes you put more pressure into your cheek. “you won’t have to.”

and with that, he begins walking down the hallway.

you frown and turn your attention to the slip, staring at it with confusion.

“look at the back!” woonhak yells to you and his voice bounces off the walls of the empty hall.

you flip the paper over, finding his sloppy writing there.

it reads: “come help me escape detention? you’ll be helping me and i promise i’ll treat you afterwards.”

then, at the bottom of the slip: “deal ??” is written with a messy drawing.

you squint at it, trying to figure out what it possibly is.

a penguin? no. mochi..? no. a blob? maybe.

woonhak shouts to you once again, now at the very end of the hallway.

“it’s a snowman!” you can’t quite hear what he follows up with since it’s more of a grumble but it sounds something like, “is my drawing really that bad..?”

he chuckles, “see you then! don’t let me down!”

he waves in a big flashy motion, flapping his arms as if he’s a baby bird trying to fly.

he leaves, and you stand there in the hall alone, trying to process everything that had just happened.

still, the only image that lingers in your mind is woonhak’s face. that absolutely stupid, unbearable expression of his.

you continue to nibble at the inside of your cheek harder.

but if it’s so unbearable, why can’t you stop thinking about it?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

here woonhak was—in the gloomy detention room, waiting for you to enter the room and come to his rescue.

he looks up at the clock. 4:30, it reads.

he focuses on the sound of the clock hand ticking, counting each tick. perhaps this is what boredom does to someone, he thinks.

when the count reaches 129, he hears the door open.

his head immediately turns to look, and a smile grows on his face in no time.

you walk into the almost silent room and your gaze wanders to woonhak. you roll your eyes, already able to tell what he’s thinking behind that lopsided smile of his.

you walk to mrs. park, the detention supervisor, who sits at a desk at the very front of the room.

“hello!” you say, generating as much enthusiasm as you possibly can.

she looks at you with a confused smile. “hello. what could i help you with?”

you bite a little at your inner cheek. “i, uh, had some questions about the elective you teach.”

her face brightens automatically. “of course! ask away.”

you smile awkwardly. “i actually wanted to know where it is held. is it possible for you to show me?”

she hums, looking around the room. woonhak quickly diverts his attention from your way as he was focused into the conversation.

“i’m afraid i cannot. i can tell you the room number, though?” she responds.

you crinkle your nose, trying to think of some kind of excuse to get her up and out of the classroom.

you exhale a long sigh. “i’m actually new here.. i don’t know my way around campus well.”

her face softens and she thinks for a moment, taking a look at her watch.

“alright, come with me,” she concludes.

you internally celebrate but quickly catch yourself. wait—why are you so happy?

you follow her out the room and around the school as she leads you to an art class with an interior of scattered easels and cabinets full of paint and other creative supplies.

you nod the whole time, not quite faking you interest as it does seem even the slightest fascinating to you.

when she is finished, you thank her for her time and walk to the entrance of the building.

there, you find the boy you saved.

he smiles warmly at you. “thank you, yn.”

you scoff, continuing to walk without stopping. “you’re welcome, snowman. you gonna treat me out now?”

he rushes to match your pace. he grins, “why, of course. i’m a snowman of his words.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

he takes you to a small, hole in the wall dumpling place.

it sports an old-school style with a cozy, somewhat lived in feeling. messages of customers from the past and present are written on the walls in messy marker smudges and faded letters written in pencil. you can tell they have immense meaning, even if you can’t exactly read it.

you and woonhak sit against the wall at a dark wooden table.

“this place is…” you take time to think about the right word.

“unbelievably beautiful?” woonhak chuckles, finishing your sentence.

“yeah. it feels like there’s so many words to describe it yet none of them can quite hold all of it.”

woonhak nods, and his piercing gaze on you is back. you aren’t oblivious—woonhak has been staring at you the whole way from your school to the restaurant and even now as you both sit there.

an older lady approaches your table. she smiles sweetly at you and woonhak.

“what could i get you two?”

woonhak gestures you to order first.

“i’ll get the juicy pork dumplings, please.”

an unfamiliar emotion flickers over woonhak’s face for a moment before it quickly leaves. you think you might just be imagining it so you brush it off without another thought.

the woman giggles a bit before responding, “alright, and what about you, young man?”

woonhak answers, “i’ll get the same thing, thank you.”

the older lady nods and leaves with a suspicious smile.

“so…”you start. “how did you find this place?”

he leans on the back of his chair. “an old friend of mine! i heard the dumplings are delicious and, well, how could i resist?”

you nod, “true, true. i’d never pass up a good dumpling.”

“i mean it, by the way,” he says, switching to a more serious tone.

you tilt your head slightly. “what?”

he continues, “for getting me out of detention. thank you.”

you shrug. “well… it was kind of my fault anyway. plus, you followed up with food afterwards.”

“right.. right…” he teases.

he looks at you gently, and you feel like his stare become less and less unbearable as time passes. or maybe it never was, and you just don’t want to accept that.

“hey! you just said you couldn’t resist this place so don’t judge me,” you scowl.

he grins and the two of wait for the food to come while conversing over random topics.

when your food comes, both of you dig in immediately.

“this is insane. how does something taste so heavenly?” you comment on it.

you don’t realize how comfortable you’ve become around woonhak or how it has even gotten to this point so fast. in a way, it just happened in a natural fashion.

plus, if you were completely honest—dead serious, honest—you can already feel his warmth rising inside you. you don’t know much about this boy in front of you who wears his heart on his chest (which he may not be fully aware of) and has a smile where his teeth stick out just the smallest bit, but you want to. you want to get to know every single detail about him.

he grins in response to your words and for a second you’re convinced his laugh is like music to your ears.

as the two of you are eating, the older lady comes up to your table again.

“how are we enjoying the food?” she asks.

you nod in a fast manner. “very good!” you hum, “it makes me crave sikhye..”

woonhak’s head snaps to you in a blink of an eye.

“what?” he says, dumpling still in his mouth.

you frown, “what?”

the two of you pause, eyes meeting for what feels like an eternity.

then, you hear a loud laugh.

the older lady still stands at your table, chuckling and holding her stomach as if it’s going burst open.

you raise an eyebrow, looking at her in confusion.

“oh, are you two funny!” her laughs slow, “mister kim woonhak, i think you’ve found the one!”

his eyes widen. “ma’am!”

she leans closer to you, whispering in your ear, “this boy you’re here with, kim woonhak,” she gestures to woonhak, “is here to test you.”

your mouth hangs open slightly. “test… me?”

woonhak digs his face into his hands, groaning.

she nods. “you ordered his favorite dish, you noticed this place’s design, and now you’ve just put the cherry on top—the sikhye.”

you slowly turn to woonhak.

“is this true?”

“yes…” his voice is muffled.

you begin to laugh, but it turns to a loud, almost obnoxious (to woonhak) one.

woonhak has this plan. he takes his newly met and possible partner to this exact dumpling spot, sees if they have similar tastes as him, has a hopefully engaging conversation, and decides afterwards if he likes the potential development that is there. he usually does, but still does the test anyways.

and if the subject just happens to order the same thing as him, order sikhye in the middle of eating, and notices the atmosphere of the restaurant, it might just be meant to be.

you so happen to have done all of these things.

and in response to this, woonhak turns tantrum mode.

“agh! this is so embarrassing…” his words are somewhat incomprehensible.

“woonhak.. it’s okay,” you giggle.

he looks up from his hands.

you hum. “i guess it’s just fate, huh? we might be meant to be.”

woonhak’s eyes widen with a subtle glimmer in them.

and finally, woonhak sees a hint of light. love no longer feels like it is going to end with a sappy, strange, or stupid reason at all; and he hopes desperately that it is all going to be because of you.

please do not copy, repost, or translate.

perm taglist: @bambisnc @mungbeancoups @starriniqhts @stantxtforabetterlife bnd taglist: @uncasings @oowir net: @kstrucknet

check out my other works!

[luvhiromi]

emo boy! | choso

synopsis: fucking at the back of hot topic. Choso works at hot topic and you and your friends were shopping at the mall. inspired by Ayesha Erotica’s “Emo Boy”. fyi this is not complete yet idk if people are gonna like it so tell me if u want a part 2.

c/w: suggestive content and words, choso calls you sweetheart/sweets, muscle kink if u squint.

pairing: emo!choso x bimbo!reader

You and your friends, Jessica and Sarah, are on a mission to find dresses for your upcoming graduation at the mall. After hours of searching, you’ve diverted your attention to spending all your money on unnecessary cute and pretty clothes, needs for graduation long forgotten. Bags hanging on your forearms, you walk around the mall, giggling and gossiping with your friends. As you head toward the next shop, you spot a cute top in Hot Topic.

“Girlies, do you mind stopping by Hot Topic?” you ask abruptly, eyeing a cute top that would be perfect for the jeans you just bought. “Isn’t that top just the perfect match for my jeans?” you ask, directing your gaze toward the item. Your friends, who were walking, come to a halt and look in the direction you’re staring at.

“Hmmm, that’ll suit you for sure, babe,” Jessica, one of your closest friends, says, agreeing with you and nodding toward the store. “Let’s go inside; Hot Topic does have cute tops.” You and Sarah nod in agreement with Jessica’s suggestion and walk toward Hot Topic.

You go straight for the top you've been eyeing, but can't find your size. Looking around for assistance, you spot a worker helping another customer and approached him. You wait for him to finish before asking him for help.

As you wait, you watch the worker, admiring his striking appearance and build, especially his captivating back muscles. His long black hair is tied in a messy half-up ponytail. He’s using a “My Chemical Romance” merch and black jeans. You catch your breath and instinctively gulp, unable to tear your eyes away from someone so breathtakingly attractive. Biting your lips, you take him in once more, but suddenly he turns his back to you.

“Hi, can I help you find something?” he asked with a small smile on his face. I quickly shift my focus from his build to his face, which has prominent eye bags that make him look quite tired. Despite this, I can't deny that he’s still attractive. If I said he wasn’t hot, than I’d be lying. He raises his eyebrows, looking at you with confusion as to why you’re just standing there without answering.

“Ma’am?” You flinched slightly at his words, finally snapping out of your trance. “Right! Uh, I just need help finding my size.” A light blush creeps onto your cheeks as you realize you’ve been ogling him the whole time. He chuckles lightly at your reaction. “Let me see what we have in the back; I’ll be back shortly, sweetheart.” Your blush deepens at the nickname, seeing your reaction he changed his mind. “How about you come with me so it’s faster, yeah?” he asks, nodding toward the back of the shop.

“Huh? Are you sure I’m allowed?” you ask, confused by his suggestion. “Of course, sweets. It’ll just be a sec,” he replies with a reassuring smile. You nod, and he guides you toward the back. As you look around trying to find your friends, you realize they’re nowhere to be seen. Not letting it bother you, you continue to follow him. He opens the door to the back and motions for you to come inside.

“Um, are you really sure I’m allowed in there?” you ask, still somewhat skeptical. “Oh, sweetheart, you really have no clue?” He chuckles at your reaction when you look at him, puzzled by his words. “I saw you ogling me, so I thought you understood what I meant. Let me rephrase it for you, sweets.”

He leans closer and whispers softly, sending shivers down your spine, “Wanna fuck at the back of Hot Topic?” Your breath catches, and you blush furiously at his words. “What?” you manage to ask. He gently grabs your wrist and guides you toward the storage room.

and… the rest is history :) pt 2? 

a/n: i got this idea yesterday and wrote it today. don't know if u guys like it or not. if someone have made this before lemme know so i can give credits. thank ya!

[padmerry]

Ford’s fitness obsession

Much has been said about Ford bodyshaming Stan in Journal 3, usually focusing on the enraging (how dare Ford like that about Stan!), but today I present you: the hilarious. This is not going to be a very serious meta, just a silly compilation of Every Time Ford Acted Like That 💪✨ while I grow increasingly amused by how much Ford overcompensates for his baby self’s wimpiness!

A Tale of Two Stans, the very episode that introduces us to Ford’s personality and his shared history with Stan, starts with their baby selves running—more specifically, Stan easily leading and Ford trying and failing to keep up.

Ford: “Wait up!” Stan: “Yeah, you should keep up!” Ford, a little defensive: “I can keep up!”

Then, of course, the scene in which Stan invites Ford to punch down the thing. Ford, poor weakling that he is, pathetically fails. (I’m talking affectionately. He’s my meow meow.) Stan can’t resist the chance to tease him:

That’s just confirming a hint we got from Not What He Seems: that Ford’s worst subject was Physical Education.

Journal 3, too, starts with this:

“If my brother hadn’t shielded me and punched one of the other kids in the nose, I might have spent the rest of the year in the hospital.”

And what does Ford do for the rest of his life?

He overcompensates.

That’s it. That’s the post.

Narratively, Ford taking a level in badass also serves his purpose of being the biggest chip on Stan’s shoulder the writers could think of. As Alex phrased it in his recent interview by HanaHyperfixates and ThatGFFan, “He has to be… like, fitter, and better at fighting than Stan too, like, not, like, he’s not gonna be some little shrinking nerd, [...].” Of course Stan can’t have this for himself.

In-universe, too, he has so much fun being athletic and agile and dunking on other peoples’ physical appearance/prowess that I genuinely think it’s one of the most underrated parts of his character.

A compilation of Ford’s “do you even lift, bro?” 💪✨ fitness obsession moments:

Don’t you hate when ghosts don’t go to the gym!

Indisputable proof Ford has no qualms about bodyshaming a crush of his, Tesla.

Nor his brother, for that matter:

The moment everyone remembers. When you go out of your way to write about your brother’s gut in your diary!

Thank you for reminding us again!

Stan was right. He was showing off, and could easily have used the door, but what would be the fun in that? How would people know how athletic he was, then? But you gotta give it to Ford: this wasn’t just impressive for a man in his sixties, this was impressive, period. I bet most readers of this post don’t know a single young person that can do that!

That was nasty, Stanford.

Look at his stupid little 😏 face.

Ford internally, probably: “Dipper surely thinks I’m so cool.” Dipper internally: “He’s so cool!”

Bonus:

And i’s just beautiful that this was the best excuse he could come up with to invite Stan, especially considering they’re twins and he’s way fitter than Stan (who is the one always complaining about body soreness):

Sacrificing his fitness-related pride, too.

You just gotta love him.

[m0nsterqzzz]

The Three Times Natasha Proposed to You and the One Time You Said Yes

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader

summary: your girlfriend has a habit of proposing, and you have a habit of saying no.

a/n: I was gonna do this with katniss but decided it worked better with my favorite spy and also its been way to long since I wrote for herrrrrr ahhhh anyway, I LOVE HER YOUR HONOR

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

The first time Natasha proposed to you, you had only known her for 18 hours.

You were new to the team. So new in fact that you only knew three people’s names at a table with eight people since the other five were too busy all day to introduce themselves. Dinner was awkward, for you at least, as everyone else was busy chatting about their days with each other. They’re laughing, the bond they all share clear as joy feels the air.

You don’t feel that joy.

It’s not like you’re not happy to be here; you’re insanely grateful that Fury was willing to see past your history and allow you to join forces such as the incredible ones around you, but you just don’t feel very welcomed.

You don’t blame the team. After all, it’s only the first day, and Fury already told you about the fact that most of the people on that team aren’t very warm and friendly. It does kind of bug you though, how now the people you’re not familiar with even seem to notice your presence in the group.

It’s just the first day. Things will get better. You repeat for the 100th time, eyes trained on the table as you spoon some more of the food that was in the kitchen when Jarvis called for you into your mouth. It’s chicken over rice, a simple recipe, but the chicken is covered in some type of delicious sauce that you can’t get enough of.

“Is the food okay? It’s my family's recipe.” A girl with brunette hair and jade colored eyes sitting across from you speaks, nervously smiling as she pushes her fork around the food on her plate. She’s young, younger than everyone else on the team, and it makes you feel a bit better about being new as you remember what Fury said about her only joining about half a year ago.

You give a hesitant smile, answering honestly; “Oh…yeah. I love it. It’s delicious.” 

The girl smiles brighter, reaching across the table to hold out her hand for you to shake. “It’s nice to officially meet you. Fury’s told me alot about you. I’m Wanda.”

“All good things I hope.” You giggle before introducing yourself, and she laughs along with you before you both go back to eating. The rest of the team slowly introduces themselves, and out of the corner of your eye you go see the way Wanda cringes when they only do it after she gave an example.

Even if they only did it once the girl made them realize, you still feel a bit more comfortable here then you did a while ago.

You notice Wanda eyeing your rings as you guys continue to eat, so you put your hand on the table in between you too. Her eyes shoot up to you in surprise, clearly not knowing that you noticed it. “Sorry for the staring. I just…I really like your rings. I love wearing them myself and I’ve never seen any like that. They’re beautiful.”

That’s how you guys start up in a conversation about rings, and then a few minutes later you’re sliding off one of your rings to give to her. She seems like the nicest person here, and you can already tell you’re going to be great friends. When you get it off, it accidently flies out of your hand, bouncing on the table before it falls off and lands somewhere on the floor. You turn red in embarrassment at the way everyone falls silent, staring at you in amusement before a redheaded woman slides out of her seat and kneels down on one knee to search for the item.

You met her earlier when you went to the gym to train, and she even helped you learn a few awesome fighting moves before she left to let you do your own thing. You can’t deny that Natasha is beautiful.

The woman smiles when she finds it, grasping the metal in her hand before she turns to face you, still on one knee as she holds it out for you to take as if she’s proposing.

If she notices the way it looks, she doesn’t say anything until Tony, the man you met when he blew up a lab earlier, laughs and mumbles under his breath, “I’m not paying for that wedding.”

You giggle, watching as Natasha stands up and turns to glare at him before facing you once again and putting it on the table near your plate. “Shut up Tony.” She mumbles before sitting back down in her own seat, and you say before shoving food into your mouth when the embarrassment sets in, “I’m not ready to settle down. Sorry Nat.”

Everyone just chuckles, and you are left with a small smile and new found happiness.

The second time she’d done it, she’d almost had you fooled that it was real.

You and her had been dating for three months, and you guys were absolutely inseparable. You’ve learned a lot about her in the year you’ve been an Avenger, and she sometimes opens up about her past. Her little sister, the red room, Dreykov.

Anyway, Fury had sent you on a mission with her, your best friend Wanda, and Steve Rogers to go and steal a flash drive from a destroyed hydra base then find some place quickly to look at what's on it. He said to find the nearest place as people would already be on the search for us, so that's why you got Nat to pull over at a mall. Not for clothes or a new pair of shoes, but to go into one of the electronic stores and use one of their computers to read what's on the file.

It was easy until Natasha noticed one of the workers looking at Steve in suspicion as they see him inserting the drive into one of the computers, and you’re about to abort the mission before your girlfriend grabs your hands and tugs you to the middle of the store, dropping into one knee and glancing at Wanda. The witch seems to get the hint even though you don’t understand what's happening, but you do when the young girl uses her magic to make a ring appear in Natashas hand. It’s beautiful, but you can tell it’s just an illusion to fool the people around you as small red whisps surround your best friend's hands.

“I’ve loved you since the day I met you.” The redhead starts, loud enough to attract the attention of everyone in the store but too loud as to not seem unusual. “I know you’re having my brother's baby,” She continues with that most serious face you’ve ever seen, and you have to try your hardest not to burst out laughing. “But I can treat you better than he ever could.”

The whole crowd of people in the store are now focused on you, even the workers which gives Steve the time he needs to enter the hard drive into one of the computers and read what's on it.

“So what do you say hottie? You wanna do this or not? Marry me?” You stare at her for a few minutes, eyes glancing at the blonde haired man who silently laughs at the scene in front of him before sending you a thumbs up to show he’s done and you guys can go.

“No!” Everyone quietly gasps, all looking away as Natasha fakes offense. “No! What the fuck? What kind of proposal is this? I’m just trying to buy a new phone, Stacy! And you’ve got a huge barbecue stain on that sweater. This is truly the best you could do?”

You're having way too much fun with it as you scoff before gently slapping her, trying your hardest not to laugh at the way everyone gasps even louder while you storm out.

Your friends and girlfriend quickly catch up with you, and you all finally burst out laughing by the time you’re getting in the car and driving away from the mall right as some scary looking military vehicle pulls up to the building. “Did you have to slap me?” Natasha laughs out, the ring box Wanda had magically created is now gone as she sits next to you in the back seat. “I feel like you enjoyed that way too much.”

“I did enjoy it. I’m also just practicing for the day you do propose to me.” She lets out a fake annoyed groan, slinging an arm over your shoulder as she pulls you to lay against her side.

Despite the playful mood, you can’t help but feel a fluttery feeling in your chest and a warm blush coating your face at the thought of being married to this girl. Little did you know, she was feeling the exact same.

When she did it a third time, it almost seemed like it was second nature for her to pull out a ring box and propose to you. 

You had just got back to the Avengers tower after a lunch date, and she froze on the doorstep when she realized you were no longer beside her. She turns in circles, panic filling her when she doesn’t see you. She’s a spy for fuck sakes, how could she have not noticed something happening to you.

 Her panic fades when you pop out from behind a thick tree, a snowball made from the small amount of snow on the grass in hand as you send her a mischievous smile. She doesn’t have any time to move before you’re launching it in her direction, practically falling over with laughter as it hits her forehead and then breaks into pieces.

The redhead still seems a bit shocked, but she quickly gets over it as she groans with a grin and runs over to harshly tackle you to the ground. It knocks the wind out of you, but you’re both still laughing so hard your stomach hurts as she grabs some snow from beside your head and then lets it fall onto you. “You wanna play that fucking game? Oh we can play that game honey.”

You shake your head, but the bright smile on your face tells her that you’re not actually scared. “No. I’m sorry Tasha. We can talk this out.” When she makes a, “tsk…tsk” noise with her mouth, you use all your strength to push her off of you, sprinting towards your home even though you can hear the sound of Natasha’s boots hastily crunching the snow beneath them as she runs after you.

She wraps her arms around your waist, easily picking you up off the ground and spinning you around. As cringy as it is, your laugh makes her laugh, and the moment is so perfect as she slowly lets you down so she can look you in the eyes.

“Wait a second.” Natasha mumbles, before grabbing something from her pocket, telling you to turn around for a minute while she makes you a surprise. You draw shapes in the snow in the meantime, your fingers practically numb but by the time you’re done, every planet is drawn into the frozen canvas. “Alright. Turn around.” She speaks again, and your smile grows- if possible- at the sight.

She’s messily formed a ring with the wrapper from a straw at dinner, and now she’s balanced on one knee in the icy snow as she grins up at you. “Will you marry me, and be mine forever?”

You pretend to think about it for a moment, finally holding at your left hand for her to put the ring on as you yell out, “Of course I’ll marry you!”

The russian girl laughs, once again picking you up to twirl you around before she sets you down to kiss you easier.

From a window high up in the Avengers tour, Wanda watches the interaction while drinking her tea and then closing her curtains. “When is she gonna do it for real?” She whispers to herself, already so done with the fact that Natasha has proposed to you three times, and yet she hasn’t been able to wear a pretty bridesmaid dress in her whole live.

The day Natasha proposed in the privacy of the cabin Tony’s letting you borrow for a weekend, twinkling lights dressing the living room and the dining table decorated with candles, rose petals and fancy wine that’s probably from Pepper, was the time you know she wasn't kidding.

As the sun sets behind the clouds, you and Natasha sit across from each other with your free hands hooked together beside your plates. The setting sun casts gentle rays upon your face from the window, illuminating your features with a golden light. You two share a quiet, comfortable silence for a moment before she looks up from her plate to you, a smile gracing her lips. You look at Natasha, heart beating softly in your chest from the soft, gentle atmosphere of the moment. She lets go of her fork to use that hand to grab ahold of your other hand, your fingertips intertwined gently. Your eyes meet across the table, and for a second it’s just you guys in the world. 

The girl then speaks, her words sincere and clear, as she makes her proposal. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you; I’ve wanted to since the first date we went on. I was scared though…..scared of finding someone I love in a world that could take it away so easily. But now….now I realize. It doesn’t matter. As long as I get to be with you for what time we have left, it’s worth it. So," she says softly, tilting her head to the side and smiling as she grabs a ring box from her pocket and opening it so you can see the diamond ring inside before standing up from her seat so she can get down on one knee next to the table. 

"Will you marry me?" 

The question hangs in the air as you gaze into the girl's eyes and processes the words. Your mind reels from the unexpectedness of it all, but you also can't help the surge of joy welling in her chest.

“Yes. Yes of course I will!” Her grin brightens, and she’s still kneeled as she wraps her arms around your waist to hug you as tight as she can. You join her on your knees so you’re on her level, grabbing her face with both hands and pulling her into a passionate kiss. You would’ve married her the first time she asked, but you’re somehow glad you waited until now to say yes. This is perfect.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

[thesunwillshineonusagain757]

My Justice League headcanon is that they are just a giant polycule. Some relationships are romantic, some are platonic, and some are a little in-between. But no matter what, they’re all interconnected in this beautiful, chaotic, and supportive way. Here's how I see it breaking down:

Superman x Batman (Husbands):

The power couple of the group: grumpy x sunshine vibes all the way.

They were friends for years before they finally got together. It took forever, but now they have this big, integrated family with all their kids.

Superman x Wonder Woman (Besties Who Sometimes Kiss) :

Honestly, this dynamic was actually Bruce’s suggestion that they explore semi regularly

Superman x The Flash (Wholesome Nerd Besties) :

These two bond over being massive nerds. They hit up conventions and Comic-Cons together every years.

They also hype each other’s hyperfixations—Barry always has Clark smiling, and Clark is Barry’s biggest cheerleader.

Superman & Green Lantern (Hal’s “If I Had to Pick a Guy” Bestie)

Hal would deny it, but if he had to pick a guy besides his actual husband? It’s Clark.

Superman & Aquaman (Love My Partner’s Partner Vibes)

Besties who bond over their respective worlds and their shared love for their husband and wife.

Superman & Martian Manhunter (Aliens Living on Earth Support Group)

J’onn and Clark just get each other. They understand the complexities of balancing alien with human life.

Batman x Wonder Woman (Besties Who Also Kiss)

Diana and Bruce have undeniable chemistry. Sometimes it’s platonic. Sometimes it’s not.

Batman x The Flash (Barry’s “If I Had to Pick a Guy” Bestie)

Barry doesn’t get why he’s drawn to Bruce’s broody energy, but he is.

Batman x Green Lantern (Frenemies)

These two cannot stand each other… but they can’t go more than two weeks without bickering or checking in.

Batman x Aquaman (Neutral Respect Besties)

They keep things civil, but the mutual respect is palpable.

Batman x Martian Manhunter (Frenemies with a Side of Jealousy)

Bruce respects J’onn, but part of him is a little salty that J’onn knows some parts of Clark better than he does.

Wonder Woman x The Flash (Cutie Pie Friends)

Diana thinks Barry is adorable, and Barry is just in awe of her.

Wonder Woman x Green Lantern (Hal’s “If I Had to Pick a Girl”)

Hal can’t help but crush on Diana, even if he knows it’s never gonna happen.

Wonder Woman x Aquaman (Ancient Poetry Besties)

They vibe over mythology, history, and the weight of being leaders in their people.

Wonder Woman x Martian Manhunter (Out of Place Support Group)

They bond over feeling out of place in the modern world.

The Flash x Green Lantern (Husbands Part.2)

The OG Justice League couple actually.

They got together just three weeks after the first meeting, and their relationship set the tone for the rest of the polycule.

The Flash x Aquaman (Secret Mermaid Kink?)

Barry is both intimidated and… oddly intrigued by Arthur. He’s 90% sure he has a mermaid kink.

The Flash x Martian Manhunter (Secret Alien Kink?)

Barry is also intimidated by J’onn, but let’s not lie to ourselves it’s giving alien kink energy.

Green Lantern x Aquaman (Chauffeur Besties)

If Arthur needs to be flown anywhere, Hal is his guy.

Green Lantern x Martian Manhunter (Space Monitoring Buddies)

They team up to monitor space and share an easy camaraderie while doing it. Hal talks J’onn listens.

Aquaman x Martian Manhunter (We Both Like Green)

Bonding over aesthetics and a shared affinity for the color green.

So yeah, the Justice League isn’t just a team — they’re a big, loving, occasionally chaotic polycule. Fight me on it.

[nayatarot777]

What Are Your Future Spouse’s Pet Peeves?

• Pile One •

The first pet peeve that your future spouse has is people underestimating their power - or other people’s power. You know when someone views you as someone who’s weak and defenceless? They can’t stand shit like that. This might pertain to the way that people treat you and they won’t be happy about others viewing you as someone who they can just say and do whatever they want to. If you also experience any demonisation of your power on a spiritual level (for example, if you’re a witch, a medium, a psychic, a tarot reader, etc) then this will piss them off too. Another pet peeve of theirs is when they witness someone being made to feel guilty for something that they shouldn’t have to carry around guilt for. Any type of gaslighting and manipulation will really send them over the edge, and they’ll be ready to raise hell over shit like that 😂. They also hate when people try to suppress their anger or when they’re told how they “should” or “shouldn’t” feel. When someone tries to suppress their emotions and they feel like they’re not allowed to show their true feelings without being dismissed, it triggers something within them. Your future spouse may have a history of experiencing their emotions being suppressed and disregarded - especially from childhood - and they’ve had to work hard to even get comfortable with showing their feelings. So for someone to overstep that line and try to control the feelings that they show? Yeah…it’s not gonna go down well 💀.

How Does Your Future Spouse Handle Conflict?

• Pile Two •

Your future spouse really hates when people keeps secrets from them. And not just personal secrets, but secrets that include them or that would affect them in some way. They’ve experienced throughout life too many secrets already and they don’t like it. At all. Also, people talking shit behind their back. Or talking about them to others without addressing the issue with them directly. They also hate any form of injustice. I feel like your future spouse is someone who will take justice into their own hands if no one else is willing to step up and serve someone their karma. Another pet peeve is those who keep other people’s secrets despite knowing damn well that they should expose that person for all of the skeletons that they have in their closet too. And I’m also seeing that your future spouse has a huge love for Earth and nature, so when they see people littering, destroying and harming the environment, hearing about animals being poached, etc will upset them greatly too. Going back to the message about secrets, your future spouse hates when people try to pry too much into their personal business. The types of people who try to rush into getting to know them are not met with compliance from your future spouse. They’re someone who’s slow to open up and they hate when people don’t respect that.

How Does Your Future Spouse Handle Conflict?

• Pile Three •

The first pet peeve of your future spouse that I’m seeing is people who refuse to see the ugly sides of themselves. The shadow side. Those who don’t see themselves for who they truly are (the good AND the bad) gets on your spouse’s nerves to the fullest extent. They can’t stand those people who want to go through life acting like they never do anything wrong, as if they’re perfect. And this annoyance comes out the most when they’re trying to get someone to see the error of their ways and the other person is being so dismissive and stubborn. Basically when someone’s ego gets in the way of knowing themselves thoroughly. They also hate when people choose to use escapist tendencies instead of facing their issues directly. And this mainly applies to the situations in which people becoming escapists affects other people around them. Your future spouse also hates people who don’t show up as their authentic selves. I feel like because they can see through that shit and it makes them feel like so many people are fraudulent. The last pet peeve that I’m seeing is when things from the past pop up a second time around. Whether this is people bringing up what was supposed to be dead and buried already, or people from the past thinking that they can weasel their way back into your spouse’s life after some time has passed after a separation and ending.

How Does Your Future Spouse Handle Conflict?

• Pile Four •

I’m seeing two messages about responsibility: your future spouse hates when people don’t take responsibility over themselves, their own actions, their life decisions, etc. And the reason why they hate this is because they understand that when people lack personal responsibility over themselves, that responsibility unfairly falls onto someone else who shouldn’t have to deal with it. They’re also the type of person who can’t stand seeing people not giving someone their praise for achievements in life, no matter how big or small. They don’t like that unsupportive energy that they see coming from people sometimes. Your future spouse is someone who is extremely clairvoyant - they see beneath the surface of peoples actions and energy, and what they say (or what they don’t). And they can’t stand when people act like they’re “reading too deeply” into something just because they bother to see the truth behind people and situations. That’s also why they can’t stand liars 😂. It feels like an insult to their intelligence and their perceptiveness and they don’t stand for any of that.

How Does Your Future Spouse Handle Conflict?

[nebulablakemurphy]

Cashmere ligando para o Finnick e Johanna, para falar sobre o Everest me deu uma ideia. Por que você não faz uma pequena one-shot deles três conversando com o Everest sobre isso, quando vão visitá-lo na Capital?

“Cashmere calling Finnick and Johanna, to talk about Everest gave me an idea. Why don't you take a little one-shot of the three of them talking to Everest about it, when they go to visit him in the Capital?”

Great idea, let’s do it!

Everest answers the pounding at his door to find Johanna, Cashmere and Finnick. “Wow,” he huffs a laugh, “all three.”

“It’s important to have options, don’t you think?” Johanna challenges. “Might be useful to have different perspectives.”

“So,” Everest allows them entrance to his dorm, “were you all like…”

“Finnick and I were. Johanna wasn’t.” Cashmere confirms.

“Snow killed my family for it.” Johanna tells him, “but better that than to bow down.” That’s what I thought at the time, anyway.

“That’s-” Everest breaks off, “insane.”

“Obviously,” Finnick adds, “he was a deranged man.”

“Plutarch told me that my parent’s “footage” was the highest grossing victor profit of all time. So with the least detail possible, can you explain why?”

“Recordings live forever.” Cashmere offers, “I could only be in one place at a time. Footage could be broadcasted as many times as someone could afford it. Hundreds of views, simultaneously; watching from the comfort of their own homes. The tapes were charged per viewing. You couldn’t own them.”

“Only Snow could do that.” Johanna adds, bitterly.

“Ranging from the time your parents got married, until Daisy was conceived.” Finnick breaks off, “to put it simply, there was something for everyone.”

Everest grips the back of his chair, “people watched Daisy be-”

“Yeah. The timeline was funny with Daisy, so it was probably just their best guess.”

“And Arista?”

Finnick nods.

“Me?”

Cashmere rests a hand against his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Everest.”

Everest snaps, “it wasn’t for people to buy or sell. It was my mom and dad! You can’t just sell people.” Their memories, their…

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way.” Finnick sighs, “I’m sorry you had to find out at all.”

“They shouldn’t be blurting it out in history class, that’s for sure.” Johanna crosses both arms over her chest. “One of us will have to speak with the school.”

“I’ll do it,” Everest decides.

“Everest-”

“They’re my parents. I’ll do it.”

“Are you gonna be ok, kid?” Finnick asks.

“I need my dad,” Everest whispers.

[fryingpan1234567]

bodoc nation how we feeling

i present some not quite PG thoughts from someone who is halfway through iron flame

In my head Bodhi has GAD but maybe I’m crazy

His favorite place to bury his face (I mean… in a public setting) is the inked spot where Ridoc’s neck meets his shoulder 

Bodhi is COVERED in tattoos and Ridoc will get the random urge to just. Lick them. Someone save him he’s a horny idiot with minimal impulse control 

Let’s never ever forget that Ridoc has the sex drive of a teenager and Bodhi is like Xaden’s twin but somehow more possessive. Randomly disappearing for twenty minutes throughout the day and reappearing with obnoxious grins, making out in hallways between classes, PDA at 200% all the time

Also they have a bunch of weird hideouts only they know about all over the school they discovered while exploring together

Cooking together in the Aretia fortress!!

Tyrrish pet names 

Telepathically sharing notes in class

Telepathically flirting

They’re in each other’s heads

(Cuir and Aotrom are mated)

The dirty jokes don’t stop but while Ridoc’s are obvious, Bodhi’s are subtle and he says them with a straight (lmao) face so it takes a second for people to notice 

Bodhi needs a full night of quiet time and being wrapped around Ridoc like a sloth to cool down every time Ridoc comes back with fresh wounds from RSC so he doesn’t murder anyone

SPARRING SPARRING TROPES SOS SAVE ME

Ridoc giving Bodhi fuck me eyes across the cafeteria just to watch him spit his drink at Imogen sitting next to him

Bodhi sending an image of the position he’s gonna put Ridoc in later as revenge and Ridoc spills hot coffee all over his lap

Racing, both on foot and dragonback (Cuir and Aotrom are just as competitive)

After the first time Violet showed her squad the magic knife thing, Ridoc tried not to freak out when Bodhi gave him an exact replica a few days later

The hugs after they get back from battles… I’m unwell 

TRADING FLIGHT JACKETS. OR JUST RIDOC WEARING BODHI’S. BONUS POINTS IF IT’S BECAUSE THEY’RE LATE TO BREAKFAST AND RIDOC PICKS UP THE WRONG ONE IN HIS RUSH OUT THE DOOR. BODHI WHO DOES NOT ARGUE BECAUSE HE LOVES SEEING HIS NAME ON RIDOC’S BACK. THANK YOU

They’re always touching somehow their friends are so sick of them 

Studying together help me gods

“Hey you took this class last year, what was the Treaty of—“

“I’m not helping you cheat on your history homework.”

“What I’m hearing is you don’t love me.”

“You heard wrong.”

“TELL ME ABOUT THE TREATY.”

“NO??”

Freaking out over each other’s wounds, even if they’re minor

Yeah these two are just as bad as Xaden and Violet when it comes to… furniture usage (if not worse than, somehow)

Showering together help

The HORRIFYING, GRINCH-LIKE GRIN when Sawyer dropped to Bodhi that Ridoc was deathly afraid of snakes

MERCILESS teasing (about that but also just in general)

Just cause they’re perfect for each other doesn’t mean they don’t argue, cause they definitely do

Ridoc has a LOT of exes and Bodhi’s favorite thing is the looks on their faces when he fully just makes out with him in the middle of the courtyard

Ridoc has that Needy Cat Energy, but especially when Bodhi is in leader mode. There’s just something about it

Nightmares. They both get them. They know how to take care of each other.

Yeah affectionately Ridoc is an attention whore but lucky for him Bodhi is happy to give it to him pretty much all the time

Ridoc helping train some of the younger marked kids without Bodhi’s even asking him to or even hinting he needed help with them. He nearly proposed on the spot

Also Ridoc defending marked kids in general

Going to some bar/ dance club vibe over one weekend and both of them getting slightly drunk (Ridoc is pretty much wiped but we don’t talk about that) and dancing together 

Ridoc fell for Bodhi when he caught him laughing at one of his stupid jokes btw if anyone cares

Bodhi fell for Ridoc when he learned he’d gotten into a physical altercation with some jackass who said Navarre would’ve been better off if the marked kids were executed with their parents

Bodhi’s mom would’ve loved Ridoc btw ): I’ve never met her but I just know she would 

They’re almost the same height but Bodhi is marginally taller 

Sometimes Ridoc gets too antsy or fidgety and Bodhi needs to focus on whatever task at hand so he’ll kiss him to shut him up

Xaden coming to visit Basgiath before learning about Bodhi’s thing with Ridoc and seeing marks on his neck under the collar of his flight jacket like “NOT MY BABY COUSIN!!!!”

“I am one year younger than you—“

“I’LL KILL HER”

“Not a her”

“I’LL KILL HIM”

“Sit tf down we need to talk strategy”

Yeah they use regular pet names, and I already mentioned Bodhi uses Tyrrish ones for Ridoc when he’s feeling extra sappy, but sweetheart is used ONLY with negative connotation— teasing, fighting, sparring, name it

Too many inside jokes between them

Have y’all seen that one post about two characters stripping each other about to bone but they can’t cause they each have too many concealed weapons and there’s just a ludicrous cartoony amount of hidden weapons piling on the floor with their clothes

If that isn’t The Most Bodhi And Ridoc Thing I’ve ever heard 

[alfredosauce50]

Night at the Museum

[America x reader]

Rating: M Word count: 5, 887 Synopsis: You and Alfred decide to visit New York’s Museum of Natural History for old time’s sake. In a stroke of bad luck, you two get locked in overnight, unaware and unprepared for the dangers lurking within. It’s where history comes alive, and he ends up in a dangerous game of cat and mouse with a bloodthirsty warlord. The whole time, he’s also wrestling with his feelings for you, and he doesn’t know which is harder. Solipsism: knowledge of anything outside one’s own mind is unsure; the external world and other minds cannot be known and might not exist outside the mind.

“The more you know about the past, the better prepared you are for the future.” — Theodore Roosevelt

“Man, we haven’t been here since we were little kids,” Alfred took it all in as he made it inside, to where he was greeted by the skeleton of Tyrannosaurus rex in an awe-inspiring pose. With its head bowed toward the entrance, he and other patrons were greeted by a set of razor-sharp teeth grinning down with a hunger for the ages. “I wonder if anything’s changed. Probably a lot.”

“A bunch of stuff, actually. But it looks like they did a huge revamp on all the wax figures,” You lifted your gaze from a brochure you collected from the front. The museum of natural history wasn’t half as impressive as the Smithsonian, but it had a special place in both of your hearts. “They’re meant to be super realistic now. You know, the whole ‘history comes alive’ pizazz.”

“Huh. Then what would be the difference between here and Madame Tussaud’s?” He glanced at you.

“The people here are worth remembering.”

“Good point.”

As local New Yorkers, it was tradition to come back every once in a while. Yellow cabs, subway crazies, and the best pizza in the world — there was no other city quite like the Big Apple, and you two decided to swing by during your semester break to reconnect with your roots. Needless to say, it was nice to get away from the upbeat chaos of life on campus.

“You think you’re gonna go to Arthur’s Christmas party?” He asked you, peering around the room of American history. There was a shining stagecoach pulled by four black horses, mannequins in confederate and union uniforms with their guns trained at each other, a giant moose, and eagles watching over everything else.

“Well, we kinda have to. Can you imagine how upset he’d be if we didn’t? He’d probably be heartbroken.”

“Yeah, but I get crazy diarrhea every time.” He scoffed, eyes wide as he recalled blowing up the toilet last year.

”You don’t have to remind me.” You shuddered.

“I know, I was just saying. I was thinking we could go somewhere fun,” Alfred gave you an expectant look as he tried to sell you on it. “We could go skating, or just watch a movie back at my place. What do you say?”

“Hm, I don’t know. I’m really craving his scones.”

“Seriously?” 

”But not as much as our time together,” You smiled, watching him light up. Taking his hand, you pulled him along and said this with a laugh. “I’d rather go to the dumpster with you than the Met. You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah.” He softened his gaze. You said that, but the way you held his hand said otherwise. Or was it because you two were that close? Either way, he was starting to go down the pipeline he swore that he wouldn’t.

”Are you okay?” You asked.

”Yeah, I’m fine.” He adjusted his glasses.

“Wanna kiss it better?” You swung his arm playfully.

Alfred glared at you as the only diversion from the fact that he was blushing. It was so like you to say things like that. You were attractive, and you knew it. With your sense of humor, it made for a dangerous game. But he’d been playing it for a while. He covered your entire face with his hand, then pushed you down to a nearby bench in one clean movement.

”Hey!” 

“Hey yourself.” Alfred walked off with his hands in his pockets, as cool as a cucumber.

This might’ve been all fun and games with you, but you weren’t the loneliest animal on the planet here. Not that it made his feelings for you any less real. He liked you, and not because you were an idea in his head.

You were real, every strange thought and neuron of your imagination. You could be as sharp as a tack when you wanted to be. He loved your mind and the way it worked, or at least when you weren’t tantalizing him.

“Remember when we were little we used to take baths together?” You sprung up out of the blue.

”Barely.” Alfred exhaled, wildly unprepared for what just came out of your mouth. But before he reacted any further, he reminded himself just who he was talking to. “That’s probably why we did it in the first place. Why?”

You were sleeping over that time, as you always did every Friday after your philosophy class. Your things were strewn all over his bedroom, like a half-eaten cup noodle, some snacks, and the clothes you brought over.

While he browsed the rest of the displays in the room, he let himself get immersed in that particular memory.

That was when you caught up with him again, even having the nerve to smile up at him with ‘hehe’ written all over your face. He glowered down at you, but really, he was just happy that you were by his side again.

You had a thirty second rebound before doing or saying the next pain in the ass thing, but he forgave you even faster than that. And it had been that way since horseshoe crabs were the only thing roaming the Earth.

”You think we could fit in the bathtub?”

“If you’re asking if I wanna take a bath with you, it’s an immediate no. We’re way too old for that.”

“You don’t have to be such a prude,” You mumbled, rolling your head away. “I was just wondering.”

“I’m not a prude.” He grumbled.

“And it’s not like I haven’t seen your dick before.”

“Yeah, when I was little!” 

“Can’t imagine it’s grown much since then.”

He glared at the ceiling, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of seeing how embarrassed he was.

As much as he’d like to pull his pants down to prove you wrong, he didn’t. Someone had to uphold a sense of decency around here, even if that person had to be him, the worst possible example of it, if he was one at all.

“If you’re done, I’m gonna go to sleep,” He sat up and twisted around to fluff up his pillow. You were starting to drift off by then, but he didn’t let you off so easily. “Don’t let me catch you peeking or I’ll molest you.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, geez.”

And to think he used to be such a cute kid, kicking his ball over your fence just so he could come over to play. You both grew up since then, and with that, came his awful sense of humor among other things.

But if you asked him, he learned from the best.

“You know the nicest people make the best Nazis?” You asked, walking by a glass display of three wax figures. Sakagawea, a young Shoshone woman who guided Lewis and Clarke on their expedition to the Pacific.

“Do they?” He narrowed his eyes in interest.

“Nice people look the other way and just wanna get along with everybody else.” You said, towing him along. “Have the whole country doing that, plus a heap of propaganda, you could get away with anything.”

“Well, if I was a German, I wouldn’t buy into it.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alfred frowned, genuinely offended. “I’m not a freakin’ racist.”

”Being scorned is your kryptonite,” You pointed out, getting him to roll his eyes. So he didn’t like to deviate from standards, and being a raving right-wing was one at the time. “And trust me when I say you would be.”

”That’s why the second amendment exists,” He smiled sagely with a hint of mischief. “If the government was to push some crazy agenda into us, the rednecks wouldn’t have it. We shape society to what we want.”

”What if the society you want isn’t the society someone else wants?” You asked, stopping in front of an exhibit of a male Algonquin warrior. “We all worship something. What’s normal to you might be crazy for someone else.”

”I guess you’re right,” He agreed, gazing upon the person who lived — and believed — in things drastically different than did. His brows came together as he marveled at the man who stood over him, a chief’s son who had been dead for well over a thousand years.

Allen was his name. He had striking scarlet eyes, dark maroon hair, tawny brown skin, and a toned body from a life of hunting and gathering. As he stared out into the middle distance, there was something uncanny about him, like he could come alive at any second, but didn’t.

“What do you think this guy worshipped?” Alfred murmured faintly, strangely captivated by him.

It was humbling to be in the presence of all of these historical figures, but intimidating to imagine them as people who existed. He was a history nut, and one thing he understood was how astonishingly cruel and violent the past could be. From the swashbuckling tales of the Wild West to the burning sands of Ancient Egypt, everything was best enjoyed from the comforts of his modern American home. Or in this case, a museum.

Where all of the exhibits were mere imitations of the long dead and gone, it would take no less than a miracle for any of them to come back to life. Little did he know, a miracle was exactly what he’d be in for tonight. 

You two poked around some more, eventually ending up in the Northern European section of the museum. Nothing really stood out to him besides the Vikings, who also caught the attention of the general public.

“This man was the greatest viking to have ever lived. Mathias Densen, the king of Danes,” A guide showed off a wax exhibit to a crowd of tourists. You and Alfred were among them, having taken the liberty to tune in.

Some took pictures, others whispered amongst themselves at the impressive lookalike made to imitate a legend out of the sagas. He had blonde hair swept up in the front in an unruly mane, and the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. With his arm raised and axe in hand, he was frozen in time, suspended in a pose so natural, it looked like he’d bring it down at any given moment.

“He was the most feared warrior in all of Scandinavia. When he threw an axe at his enemy, he never missed. But all blood and gore aside, he will go down in history as one of the best leaders and explorers of all time.”

”Wouldn’t wanna get him angry, huh?” Alfred gave you a side-eye, returning his gaze to the information plate. That was when he saw a portrait of a woman who was supposedly the only one who could go toe-to-toe with his ruthlessness. “You know, she kinda looks like you.”

”Really?” You leaned over. “I don’t see it.”

”No way. You guys are like twins!” He exclaimed.

“Maybe just the eyes.”

“Maybe she’s your long-lost ancestor or something.”

After another hour of walking around and talking, you and Alfred left to get to the exit. It was approaching closing time, and you two were among the last to leave. A security guard stood near the revolving doors, bidding farewell to guests. But before he could acknowledge you two, Alfred stopped and patted around his shirt.

“Shit, I left my glasses.” He winced.

Neither of you two thought it would’ve been problem to go back and retrieve them at the time. Who would’ve thought they’d made the security so much tighter that it would end up the biggest mistake of your lives?

After sweeping room after room, he eventually found them on the ground next to a bench. Sliding them onto his nose, he picked up a brisk jog as he made his way back downstairs. But by then, it was too late.  

“Now let’s get out before we get locked in.”

”Don’t jinx us.” 

”Not gonna happen.” 

And he said that so confidently too. Because when he pushed at the revolving door, it didn’t budge. 

”What’s wrong?” You asked from behind. 

“Nothing, just give me a sec…” He rattled it a few more times, but to no avail. Then, he let out a heavy breath as he admitted the one thing he thought could never happen. “… Okay, I think we’re locked in.”

“You’re joking.” You blurted.

You brushed past him to give the door a strong shake, needing that same taste of defeat before believing it yourself. Sure enough, it was locked shut, and would likely stay locked all the way up til morning.

“Oh my God, we are. What are we gonna do?”

”Call the cops.” He suggested, pulling out his phone to dial 9-11. After a few tries, to which he stared at you tensely with it pressed up to his ear, he found that the call kept failing. “Annnnd the cops aren’t picking up.”

“Well, keep trying! Call Arthur or something.” 

For the next thirty minutes, you both paced around while trying to reach local government services, then friends or loved ones. It slowly became apparent that you two weren’t getting out anytime soon.

You weren’t the type to express it, let alone say it, but you were getting scared and uncomfortable.

So was he, but like hell he’d let it show. Not because he didn’t have the balls to admit it, but it was the last thing you needed right now. You weren’t looking at him, and he knew in an instant that you were on the verge.

“We’re not gonna make it out, are we?”

Alfred was crushed with so much guilt, he couldn’t even react when the lights dimmed, plunging the museum into a pitch-black darkness. His eyes stayed wide with remorse, even when he couldn’t see you anymore.

In that moment, he came over and hugged you as tight as he could, lips pursed in a deep frown. It wasn’t every day that he could hold you like this, but he set aside every shard of his shattered ego to do it.

Even if he had to do it in the dark.

There couldn’t be a better metaphor for his feelings. Alfred had always been too afraid to tell you how he felt, and if he did, he’d do it in a way that was hidden from plain sight. This was one of those times.

It was one thing to admit he was scared. It was another to say he was sorry. But telling you how much you truly meant to him was damn near impossible. So instead of doing any of the above, he let you sleep on him.

He had his back on a cold hard bench while you drifted away. There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight, but this was just his karma. So he stayed like that for the next few hours, to which you began to stir. 

“You good?” He asked in a soft murmur.

”Yeah,” You rubbed your eyes. “Just a little thirsty.”

”I’m pretty sure there’s a fountain outside.” He helped you up, putting on his glasses. “I’ll come with you.” 

”No, it’s fine.” You sighed, getting up to leave the room. 

”Hey,” Alfred softened his gaze, getting you to slow to a stop. He was so exhausted, all of his walls were coming down. And he couldn’t stand to bottle it up inside him any longer. “I’m sorry, okay? This was all my fault.”

”It’s okay. We can’t all be born perfect.” You cracked a smile, walking off. But the happy note only lasted so long once you got to the hallway outside. It was so dark, you could barely see the ground beneath you.

With nothing but the wall lamps to illuminate the empty halls, the institution turned into nothing but a graveyard: a dim labyrinth of the long dead and gone. And like all graveyards, there were ghosts.

The black outline of wax figures lined your peripherals, and you gazed at them nervously as you made your way to the fountain. After a few satisfying gulps, you began making your way back to the room. That was when you heard the echo of footsteps in the distance, too far away to have made sense at the time. Someone was at the end of the hall, and it couldn’t have been Alfred.

“Hello?” You called out to the source.

The shadow of a man appeared around the corner, the details of his wild, upswept hair showing up on the wall. When he revealed himself, he was covered head to toe in thick fur pelts and armor. Your eyes went wide ever so slowly, heart racing as you were struck with this realization. He was a spitting image of the viking you’d seen on display, but he wasn’t just an inanimate statue made of colored wax and glue. He was moving.

Breathing. 

He was alive.

Alfred waited patiently for you to come back, though he regretted letting you go out by yourself. It wasn’t like there was anything out there, but you must’ve been afraid under that bravado you showed him. If only he knew how wrong he’d been. As he sat on the bench, the museum slowly came to life. All of its waxy inhabitants, people gone for centuries, returned from the dead.

And the lights came back on, one by one.

The Viking’s chest heaved for the air that hadn’t filled his lungs in eons. And with eyes as blue as the oceans he sailed across, he stared at you like he had just seen a ghost. They had a light in them they never had before, a consciousness, a soul, and you stared right back. But the way he looked at you was like nothing you’d expect. There wasn’t a trace of hostility in his gaze, but something deeply emotional and coherent.

Not that any of that mattered to you.

You split, running from him as fast as you could and with more adrenaline than what you thought was humanly possible. But then again, what you witnessed was a testament to the impossible. The dead walked, and you were trapped in here with hundreds of them. Whipping your head over your shoulder, you let out a frightened cry when you saw him chasing you. 

Your screams echoed down the hall, and Alfred felt his blood go cold hearing them. But he forced himself to stand, and without a shred of hesitation, he ran outside to look for you. When you weren’t by the fountain, his heart sank to the pit of his stomach. And his face, now whiter than a sheet of paper. Where did you go?

“(F/N)!” He yelled, sprinting down the hall.

But more importantly, what was it that made you scream? Whatever it was, he knew he’d never forgive himself if something happened to you. The lights were now on, and he swore he could hear the tapping of what sounded like hundreds of footsteps. There was something around the corner, or someone, he just never would’ve anticipated it beyond his wildest imagination.

“Where are you?” Once be got around the turn, what he saw put a stopper to his thoughts, derailing them with the most fantastical thing he had ever seen. His eyes flew open, and his mouth went agape so he could let out a shaky breath. “What the hell is going on?”

Swathes of people dressed in cultural adornments and even objects were out and about, talking to each other in languages he couldn’t even begin to decipher. Inuits, African tribesmen, and Edwardian socialites walked along the halls like time had just shattered upon itself. Marble sculptures, copper statues, and other pieces of art were moving about like they weren’t made of some kind of rock. There was even a Terracotta soldier, who was accompanied by a Chinese dragon made entirely out of green jade. Elephants, rhinos, and giraffes passed by in a strangely calm fashion like this wasn’t their first rodeo in the museum. Everyone did, except for him. 

“No way.” He whispered, glancing left to right as he picked up a jog. If he wasn’t wrong, everything in the museum had come to life. Was he dreaming? He had to be. In his dazed stupor, he ran into a medieval knight. There was a loud clank, and he would’ve winced from how much it hurt if it weren’t for being spoken to. 

“Excuse me. Watch where you’re going!” 

“Sorry!” He blurted. “I’m so sorry.”

”That’s alright! But you look a bit pale there, kid. What seems to be the problem?” The knight questioned, still wearing his helmet and hiding his face. Aside from his silver armor, he wore pure white garments with a blood red cross — the signature outfit of a crusader knight.

“Oh, um, where do I start?” Alfred panted, speaking in a frazzled manner. Funnily enough, this was the straightest he’d been thinking now that someone was talking to him. “Oh, I know! How the hell is everyone and everything in this museum alive right now?”

“I’d normally have a better answer, but I’ve never read anything like this in the Bible,” The other scratched their head through their helmet inquisitively. “Maybe I missed a chapter. But honestly, I’m just as lost as you are.”

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“The Bible. The word of God. Haven’t you heard of it?”

”I know what the Bible is!” Alfred raised his voice into a frustrated hiss, but he instantly felt bad for it. “Sorry. I’m talking to a monk, here. I should be more respectful. But never mind that. I’m looking for my friend. I’m worried something happened to her.”

”I could help you look for her!” 

“That would be great, thank you.” 

”I’m Gilbert. Proud Templar Knight and brother from the Temple of Solomon.” They took off their helmet and held it against their hip, revealing a head of white hair and ruby-red eyes. Then, they outstretched a gloved hand for him with a toothy grin. “Pleasure to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you too. I’m Alfred, uh, son of Arthur, and student hailing from New York,” Alfred improvised awkwardly, giving it a slow, disoriented shake. “Wow. I can’t believe I’m talking to a Crusader knight right now.”

“So where did you last see your friend?” Gilbert asked.

Mathias carried you all the way to the other side of the museum, and you thrashed the whole time, begging him to let you go. When he finally put you down, he kept a firm grip on your hand. You were greeted by other Vikings, and just when you thought you’d be sacrificed like a goat, they broke out in wide smiles.

Besides them speaking in old Norse to you, which you had no way of comprehending, they were more than pleasant to you, even offering you some plastic food, which you politely declined. From the way they acted around you, it was like being with an old friend.

It became clear that they had no intention of harming you, but why they brought you here was still a mystery.

”I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you guys are saying,” You interrupted meekly, darting your nervous eyes between them. They stared at you with blank faces before exchanging confused looks with each other. “Could you please let me go? I don’t want any trouble.”

“Where did you run off to? I haven’t seen you all week. I was worried something happened to you,” Mathias spun you to him, hugging you tightly before putting his hands all over you. “You’re speaking in tongues and acting very strange! We need to get you a doctor.”

”I didn’t understand that either.” You sighed.

”It’s worse than I thought. Somebody get Olaf,” The Dane ordered, summoning another Viking to come over. They took your arm and led you off, much to your dismay. “Look after her for me, friend. In the meantime, I have a man to hunt. He’s the one responsible for this.”

”Hey, wait! Where are you taking me?” You exclaimed, glancing back at Mathias as he left. In that precise moment, your best friend’s words replayed in your mind like a tape. You looked just like his wife, and so much that it had the actual guy fooled. “Oh no. Alfred!” 

It didn’t take a linguist to know that he was in trouble, but there was nothing you could do. Your companions kept you inside their make-shift hut, treating you as one of their own. They laid you down and spoke to you very slowly, so they must’ve thought you had a concussion. Either way, they weren’t letting you out of their sight.

You just hoped Alfred brushed up on his history, because he’d be needing it tonight.

”Where the hell could she be?” Alfred walked with his newest companion. “We checked everywhere!” 

”Actually, we still haven’t checked Northern Europe.” Gilbert corrected, getting the blonde to turn in the direction of said location. But he launched a hand out and grabbed him, pulling him back. “Don’t. It’s suicide.”

”Why?” He frowned.

”It’s occupied by Norse Pagans.�� The albino warned, pulling him close for a tantalizing whisper. He glanced around before he continued, almost as if speaking of them would summon them like the devil himself.

”Norse Pagans? You mean Vikings?”

“They came here last week, and it’s been Hell ever since.” Gilbert took his collar as he whispered in a panicked hush. “We sent a missionary up there once, and he came back to us completely dismembered!”

“Oh, fuck.” Alfred dug his hands through his hair, now a nervous wreck as he envisioned the thought. But what made his stomach really churn was the unshakeable thought that it was probably where you were.

For that, he was surprised he hadn’t vomited already. And he almost did when Gilbert went off on a passionate spiel of the Scandinavian heathens and everything they’d done. That was when one appeared at the end of the hall, and it wasn’t just any Scandinavian heathen.

”I mean, he’s okay now, but it was really disturbing.” The other made a face of unease as he recalled the sight. It wasn’t something a person was meant to see in their lifetime, but at least he was in a more dubious position now. “I don’t think they care for God.”

“Dude.”

”What?”

”That’s the Viking I saw earlier today.” Alfred whispered, locking eyes with Mathias who stood no more than three hundred feet away from him. In the next three seconds, the Dane broke into a sprint, charging at him at a terrifying speed like a mad bull. He let out a wheeze, likely the sound of his soul escaping his body. “Aaaand he’s running at us. Well, this has been a good life.”

”God hasn’t forsaken us yet!” Gilbert unsheathed a gleaming longsword, swinging it in impressive circles.  

Mathias launched an axe at him, and it spun through the air so fast, it passed as nothing but a white flash.

It cut Gilbert’s head clean off, getting it to land on the ground with a thump. There was no blood or flesh, just a cross-section of wax where he was decapitated. While he had his face planted on the floor, he said this in a muffled voice. “So that’s what that feels like.” 

But Alfred had already fled by then.

He never stuck around to see his friend lose his dignity, much less his own. He whimpered a little as he pumped his legs as fast as he could. He was running on so much adrenaline, his bloodstream may as well have been battery acid. But not everybody could outrun a Viking, and he would’ve eaten it if it weren’t for the arm that shot out from the side, pulling him into a room.

When he turned to the stranger who’d saved him, he recognized him to be the native Algonquin warrior he’d seen earlier that day. Only this time, he was perfectly canny and had an unrivaled sharpness that would end up ensuring his survival. While Mathias ran by outside with his pelts and armor clinking away, Allen put a finger up to his mouth to get him to stay deathly still.

But above all else, quiet.

There they crouched, hidden from plain sight like the watchful forces of nature. In the most tense ten seconds of their lives, they stared at each other, cerulean and scarlet eyes as wide as they could get them. For a moment, Alfred forgot he was being chased, deeply enchanted by the person in front of him. He was quite literally gazing back into history, a thousand years into the past to be precise. But once the coast was clear, he went back to hyperventilating. He was still in shock from everything that just happened, and the first thing he let out was an excited, albeit exasperated gasp. 

“Oh my God. You just saved my life. Thank you!” 

”Don’t mention it.” Allen took his bow off so he could arm himself with it. Then, he peered outside the door, making sure there weren’t any Vikings in the area. Turning back to the blonde, he pulled an arrow from his quiver without breaking eye contact. “I’ve been tracking that guy for days, and this is the craziest I’ve ever seen him. You have any idea why he would be after you?”

“How should I know? I don’t know the guy personally!” Alfred exclaimed, following him out into the hall. 

“You must’ve done something to piss him off.”

”But I didn’t do anything!” 

“Then he wouldn’t waste his time chasing you when he’d rather search for his girlfriend.” Allen remarked. “One of my pals can speak his language, and he says he’s been looking for her ever since he got here.”

“Fuck, that’s it. Why didn’t I think of it before?”

They ran to the elevator, to which he pressed the button for the basement. It had always been on the tip of his tongue, but the whirlwind of a night left his head more scrambled than he thought. And now that he had it all pieced together, he came up with a plan to save you.

“I came here with my friend, and she looks exactly like his wife. He must’ve seen us together. But it’s okay, I have an idea. They must have extra wax figures in storage, right? If she’s as important as they say, they must have her tucked away down here somewhere.”

“Okay, so we do a trade-off.”

”Exactly.”

”Smart.” Allen pursed his lips, thoroughly impressed.

The doors slid open and thus, they began their search, sweeping the entire basement for the reason why the museum had turned into a war zone. After an hour or so, Alfred heard someone banging away and calling for help from inside a tall wooden crate. A woman, and she sounded just like you. He and Allen walked up to it, then cracked it open like a treasure chest. Lo and behold, it was your doppelgänger, but dressed in the height of fashion from what was a thousand years ago.

“I think we found our girl.” He murmured in awe.

The three of you got back to the elevator. It was a given that the you from the Viking age was a little hesitant to get into such a tight box, but Allen had a way with body language. He made a few gestures to let you know where he was taking you. What more was that these two men had just broken you out of an even tighter box, so you had no reason not to trust them. 

“You know, I meant to ask, but doesn’t it bother you that there is a living, breathing, homicidal axe-wielding maniac running around the museum every night?” Alfred asked, feeling strangely calm now that he sensed that the night’s excitement was coming to an end. 

“We’re not alive the way you’re alive,” Allen told him. That was right. As magical as it was to have the museum come to life, it wasn’t real. History had done its course. He spoke with power and humility as he confronted that fact, and for that, he seemed to be at peace. “We’ve had our shot. But you still have yours.”

“I have the craziest chills right now.”

”But also because we’re made of wax.”

“Okay, that makes more sense.” Alfred laughed a little, turning to him. ”So how come you speak English?”

”I’ve been on display here for years,” Allen grinned, walking out now that the elevator doors opened. They returned to the bustling halls of the Museum of Natural History, where history had really come to life that night. “New York is my home. Always has been.”

”Explains the accent.” 

It didn’t take long to track down Mathias again, and when he finally laid eyes on the one he’d been searching for, he turned into an entirely different person. His anger, terror, and everything that made him a legend, had all but melted into a deep emotional coherence.

He was nothing but a man now. A man with his own joys and sorrows like everybody else.

He dropped his ax and ran up to his long-lost love, picking her up and embracing her after what felt like an eternity. He finally found her again after a thousand years, and the scene was quite profound to behold.

But if you asked Alfred, it wasn’t as touching as his reunion with you. He found you in the hall of Northern Europe, holed up in a tent and rubbing your eyes. They were red from crying, and the way you looked at him was something he’d burn in his mind forever. And the way you hugged him, a feeling he’d never get tired of.

”I knew you’d come.” You squeezed him.

“Of course I came,” He squeezed you back, burying his face into the crooked of your neck. “But maybe it’s time that I switch out my glasses for some contact lenses. Don’t wanna keep losing them like I did tonight.”

“No way!” You gushed. “I like the way you look now.”

”Yeah?” He smiled rosily. From that outburst alone, he knew you’d forgiven him for everything that happened. But from the sound of things, you had a much easier time than he did. On the way home, he enthused you on the people he met and his close brushes with death. 

“You ever hear of a term called solipsism?” You asked. 

“Doesn’t ring a bell.” He shook his head.

“It’s the concept that everything around you doesn’t exist and is made up by your own mind,” You explained, stopping him in the middle of the street. It was dawn by then, and the rising sun cast a golden glow over your tender smile. “But if everything around me is just my imagination, you’re the best thing I’ve come up with.”

His eyes went wide, shocked by how sweet you just were. Just like that, everything he ever pined away for didn’t matter anymore. He was worth more to you than an adventure of a lifetime because he was that adventure. But at the same time, Alfred fell even harder for you, and it showed in the way his gaze softened. 

”Right back at you, sport.” 

[princessbrunette]

okok line cook jj who is absolutely obsessed with the new doe eyed pretty smile waitress. she’s always so nice and patient with the crew even if they’re behind, getting yelled at ect. they flirt and she always gets all blushy and shy, and he just loves it. one day she ends up in the kitchen teary eyed and covered in coffee from an angry customer and jj just looses his shit cause his girl is obviously upset and even possibly hurt and how dare they.

this anon had my tummy hurting and everything like omg i love it sm .

he’d fall for you as soon as he’d lay eyes on you.

jj definitely didn’t have a type and his track history was living proof— however, with all the girls he’d hooked up with in the past they tended to be a little on the sassier side, confident, bites back and can handle the loud mouth that belongs to none other than the man himself— but he’d never felt deeply for any of them, happy to part ways with them when the fun was all over. you however, you were something else entirely.

it was like watching a baby deer trying to learn how to walk when you were brought into the restaurant as the new waitress hire. clearly you’d had no idea just how busy the beachside restaurant got, but you’d tried to adapt quickly. for the first few weeks you were skittish, dropping the occasional plate, tripping over extended legs from tables and forgetting a couple of orders — but surely enough the customers took a liking to you anyway. of course they did, you were adorable, polite, pretty and young — you could have set the place on fire and your manager would probably have let you off with a slap on the wrist.

jj was dead set on getting to know you, hell— he’d even consider himself your guide, befriending you and helping you out whenever he could. he’d have your order ready first everytime, greeting you with a wink that flustered you as he’d carefully hand you the plate and watch you shuffle off to find the corresponding table. he’d gently manoeuvre you out the way with hands on your hips when he needs to get behind you in the busy kitchen on chaotic shifts, smirking to himself at the way you get all doe eyed and embarrassed whenever he did it. it never took much to fluster you, and your sweetness had apparently been just what JJ had craved.

he noticed you started to come to him for everything, and it made his heart swell with pride. toeing nervously into the kitchen during a quieter shift, not many of the staff around that evening. “excuse me, jj?” he remembers your polite voice calling from behind him as he chops some bell peppers. he’s wiping his hands on his apron as he glances over his shoulder at you before turning around fully, giving you his full attention.

“yeah?” he breathes, almost silenced by how pretty you are.

“sorry to disturb you but theres some guys arguing really loud in the restaurant and i think they’re gonna fight and the security guy isn’t in today… dont really know what to do…” you shrug, clammy hands subconsciously playing with your work uniform. he could tell whatever had happened out there has made you uncomfortable, not a fan of confrontation or big scary men yelling. he’s quick to nod, tossing the dish-cloth he was about to wipe the surface with over his shoulder and placing a hand on your arm, looking down at you reassuringly.

“hey, you’re good, i’ll handle it, yeah?” he nods, brushing past you briskly and out the kitchen doors into the restaurant. it was night time, so the restaurant overlooking the beach only had a few customers dotted around eating their meals, equally disturbed by the loud quarrel the two seemingly tipsy men were having. you follow him to the door, watching him saunter out toward them without a care in the world. you liked that about jj, he wasn’t scared of nothing.

“alright ladies, pack it up. go kiss n’make up somewhere else, bein’ waaay too loud and i don’t think these people paid for dinner and a show.” he waves them off, the two men standing at their table having their argument.

“stay outta this kid, i ain’t going nowhere ‘til he gives me what he owes me!” one of them barks back, slamming his fist down on the table making you jump as the cutlery clatters. JJ doesn’t flinch in the slightest, stepping up closer.

“yeah, i wasn’t asking. you’re disturbing my waitress and quite frankly you’re pissing me off, so again, i’m gonna have to ask you to leave.” you pushed down the way ‘my waitress’ made you feel, knowing he was likely just throwing it out there without meaning.

“you think i give a fuck ‘bout how ‘ya waitress feels? we’re doing business here. why don’t you go back to the kitchen, huh?” the other man waves him off, and you see his eyes flutter in irritation a little at the mention of you. he locks his eyes on the man, oddly calm and steps closer, staring him down.

“i’m not askin’ again. leave.” JJ warns.

“or what, blondie?”

“or I beat the shit out of you and your little friend.”

you were happy your manager wasn’t in that evening, because JJ would have gotten in lots of trouble. like that one day, a few weeks later during an afternoon shift, patrons from the nearby golf course having swarmed in for their lunch. JJ had been chatting away with another cook in the kitchen at his post, laughing and swatting eachother with the dish rags when the doors swung open, making him double take when he’d clocked on that it was you. your eyes didn’t find his with a bright smile and fluttery eyelashes like they always did, in fact you didn’t look at him at all. upon further inspection, your uniform was drenched with brown liquid, assumably coffee even dripping from the ends of your hair. your bottom lip wobbled as you headed toward the cloakroom through the back.

JJ’s smile fell off his face and he chased after you, skidding to a stop infront of you as he places both hands on your shoulders.

“hey, hey what happened out there?” he speaks gently, gentler than you hear him speak with the other cooks anyway.

“some guys coffee was cold, so— so he dumped it on me. i’ll be fine, just— just need to change my clothes and go and clean up the mess out there and—” youre wiping your tears off your cheeks, mortified, and when you open your eyes again JJ’s no longer right there, the only sign of his existence being the sight of the kitchen door swinging. you curiously follow, standing in the doorway like you did last time. his eyes had scanned the room, quickly honing in on the older, sweaty Kook in an ugly polo loudly complaining about the ‘help’ with a puddle of coffee beside his table.

he didn’t think, striding over, lips pressed in a firm line. he grabs the man by his collar and yanks him with such a force out of his seat that his chair tips back and falls, skidding along the polished wooden floor. gasps ring around the restaurant, an imaginary spotlight shining on the blonde as he grips the man with white knuckles, looking down his nose at the flailing Kook struggling to get his footing.

“you think it’s okay to humiliate my waitress, huh? you think that shits all sweet? someone oughta teach you—” he’s hissing between grit teeth with a trembling voice when the security guard runs over to tear him off.

“maybank.” the officer warns with a knowing tone and JJ lets the man go, not without shoving him back by the chest first, a spiteful, quick adrenaline fuelled laugh leaving him as he did so.

“yeah, nah, we’re all good. get this asshat out of here though.” he backs off, letting the guard escort the shaken man away to the exit, probably profusely apologising on JJ’s behalf. he pants, watching him leave before looking around at the entire restaurants eyes on him, staring in shock. he scratches his cheek before holding up his hand. “hope y’all are enjoying the food.” he calls out, making eye contact with your manager who stands leaning against the bar with her arms crossed, shaking her head at him. he swears under his breath, before storming back toward the kitchen, not even glancing at you as he storms past you, knowing he’s in trouble.

he heads towards the staff cloakroom, yanking his apron off and beginning to punch the code into his locker, clearly deciding the best way to deal with this was to take off. you follow him, standing in the doorway.

“jj, you shouldn’t have done that.” you scold him softly, watching him screw up his apron and stuff it into his locker, rooting around for his stuff.

“yeah, well i did, so…” he doesn’t turn to acknowledge you, still out of breath with a noncommittal tone.

“you’re… you’re gonna get in trouble. i don’t want you to get fired.”

he suddenly turns to you when you approach at his side. “you think i want that either?” he snaps before softening, seeing the way your eyes widened in hurt confusion. “i’m sorry. i… i just don’t like how these assholes get to roam around and do what they want. they can direct all that shit towards me, i don’t care, i can take it…” he takes off his backwards hat, raking his hands through his hair. “but… but not you! they don’t get to talk to you like that. someone’s gotta show them, you know?” he rants and you soften, stepping closer.

“thank you.” is all you say, pressing your hands to his shoulders and standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. you offer him a small smile, before turning around and heading back toward the door. you turn before you leave, his body still twisted towards you as he watches you in awe, suddenly a lot calmer. “no one’s made me feel safe like you do, jj.” you state before heading away.

he sighs, turning back toward his locker and leaning his forehead against the cool metal, screwing his eyes shut for a moment just breathing. when he turns back around, you’re gone, replaced by the disapproving glare of your manager.

“you wanna talk about what just happened?” she tilts her head.

“well, no— but i feel like i don’t really have a choice.” he forces a fake smile. it was gonna be a long day for jj.