#asks n questions n stuff greatly welcome

[xx0fuck3drott1ngthr04t0xx]

xmen self insert oc!! (plus logan for differentiation)

name: colt karver, aka "pest"

gender n prns: just a guy (ftm), he/it

powers are still a work in progress, but to summarize:

he can alter materials on an atomic/chemical level (also terrakinesis), has thermal vision (thats only activated in the dark), and enhanced (autism) hearing

i could make a post goin more in depth about his powers n mutation side effects, and other general info

[myseungsunglove]

An S-Class Connection | Hhj

Pairing: Hyunjin x reader 

Warnings: language, smut, friends to lovers 

Word Count:  1.7k 

𖠫Summary: Seeing your best friend perform at the VMAs stirs some feelings in you that you had been pushing down for years. Upon congratulating Hyunjin on his award and amazing performance, the dynamic of your friend takes a sharp and unexpected turn into territory you were never expecting but gladly welcome. 

✎A/N✎: It’s been a hot minute since I wrote a full on smut piece. I have one with Seungmin out there called “The way you Make Me Feel” but it’s mild really. This one isn’t particularly spicy, but it is my first go at a sexual encounter in a fic in a long time. It’s also my first time writing Hyunjin so I hope it isn’t massively disappointing! Your feedback is always greatly appreciated. 

◠ ◡ ◠᭚ιαᵕ̈

「© September 23, 2023 by mysweethannie」

✘MDNI✘

Smut Warnings: Fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (stay safe, homies), creampie

The moment his eyes meet yours from the stage, you feel your feelings fundamentally shift in a way you aren’t going to be able to stuff back into a box or a closet or wherever else they had been previously hiding. 

The S-Class performance ends and you are escorted backstage as the crowd roars its appreciation for Stray Kids. You are so proud of them getting to perform at the VMAs. But at the current moment that accomplishment is secondary to whatever the feeling is that is stirring inside of you. 

You haven’t seen the boys since you had departed from your hotel in the morning to get ready for the evening at the VMAs. You had separate presser events to get to yourself and those didn’t align with their schedules. You’d been with Hyunjin when he got his haircut the day before, but the stylist had done a next level job with his hair tonight. The tight undercut, the short ponytail pulled up in the middle of his head. The strands of hair that fall perfectly on his forehead, framing his intense stare in a way that have your insides burning with desire. Something you had not felt, or at least not acknowledged you felt, about your best friend before. 

You round a corner backstage and see the boys thanking their backup dancers. Their smiles and energy are both contagious. Then you spot Hyunjin and it feels like all the air is punched from your lungs. As if he feels your presence, he turns around and once again his eyes fall on you. The look in his eyes is something you’d not seen before, and it makes your stomach twist into knots, the heat of his gaze making your legs tremble slightly. 

He slowly moves toward you, his eyes raking over your form and you suddenly look down at yourself, taking in your appearance. You are in a skin tight black dress that hugs your curves, showing off your small waist and making your hips look delectable. The dress is short, barely covering your ass, coming to rest just below it on your thick thighs. You are wearing a pair of Black Highland Stuart Weiztman boots that came up thigh high and accentuate your leg’s best features and a simple black garter visible on your left thigh.  

“Damn,” Hyunjin breathes once he is within earshot. His large hands rest on your hips, pulling you into his. You can’t help the tiny gasp that escapes you. “You look fucking incredible,” he adds. You hardly register the compliment because his fingers are dancing along your hips as he rubs them gently. 

“Y/n?” Hyunjin questions when you don't respond. “Anyone alive in there?” he jokes, gently tapping his knuckles against your temple. 

This brings you back to reality. 

“Me? look good?” you scoff incredulously. “Have you seen yourself?” you ask. “Your hair alone would be enough to part legs like the Red Sea.” The words are tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them. 

Hyunjin narrows his eyes at you, his hands on your waist, pulling you into him so that he can whisper in your ear. 

“And what about your legs? Would the hair work on them too?” he whispers against the shell of your ear, his breath hot against your skin causing goosebumps to rise up on your neck. 

You pull back from him with a start, looking at his face to read his expression. Your eyes search his for any sign that he may be joking or looking to get a rise from you. You are met with a look that says he would devour you right there in front of everyone if he could. 

You swallow thickly, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you take a step off a cliff you know you won’t be able to take back once you utter the words. You place your hands on the base of his head, your fingers dancing along the undercut, eliciting a shiver from him. 

“Most definitely,” you finally respond, your voice breathy and desperate. 

You barely have the chance to get the words out before his plush lips are pressed against yours, his tongue licking into your mouth insistently like he was in fact trying to devour you. His large hands are sprawled across the expanse of your back, pressing you tightly against him as he kisses you breathless. 

Just when you start to feel a little lightheaded, you break apart both of you heaving in heavy breaths. 

“Let’s go,” he says, grabbing your hand and dragging you down the hall away from the prying eyes of the others and all of the people attending the awards show. 

“Fuck,” you whisper as he pulls you into a dressing room, closing the door and pushing you up against it, this time his perfect pink lips finding a home on your neck and sucking a mark there. 

“I’ve wanted this for,” he kisses your neck and moves along your jawline. “For so fucking long. You have no idea,” he admits before kissing you hard. His hands are groping your ass, squeezing hard as he presses you against himself. One of your legs is wrapped around his hip, making your core come in contact with his hard length. He groans against your lips at the contact, his hand moving to push your dress up over your hips, exposing the small black thong you are wearing. “I could make you feel so good,” he teases, his fingers running over your barely clothed core. “Do you want that?” 

You nod frantically. 

“Your words, baby,” he says, his eyes not leaving yours. 

“Fuck me, Hyunjin,” you beg, your lips leaving a trail of wet kisses along his jawline as your fingers continue to dance lightly along his freshly shaved hairline at the nape of his neck.Your lips meet again. He bites your lip and you can’t help but gasp. He pushes aside your thong, his long middle finger running between your folds, gathering the wetness that has gathered there. He circles your clit a time or two, causing you to moan out against his neck as he moves to enter you with his long finger. You hold tightly to his neck, your mouth hanging open as you fuck your self first on one finger, then two as he works to open you up. 

“Need. Fuck.” the words are punched out of you as your hands move to his pants, trying desperately to push them away from his hips as his fingers continue their assault on your wet cunt. “Need you inside of me.” 

“I am inside of you,” he teases. 

Your hips still as you successfully push his pants over his hips, his long, hard cock springing free against your leg. You wrap your hand around his length and stroke him gently. 

“I need this,” you whine, your hand holding him firmly, giving him a gentle squeeze. 

Immediately his fingers leave your sopping hole as he grabs his cock, running the head against your wet folds and tapping it roughly against your clit, causing you to shiver. He lines himself up with your hole and presses the head of his cock into you, looking into your eyes and he pushes deeper into you. 

“Shit,” you groan, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders as your warm walls welcome him in. 

He bottoms out, his pelvis pressed firmly against your pussy as he picks your legs up off the ground and wraps them around his waist. This causes his cock to hit that sweet spot inside of you, an involuntary moan spilling for your lips. He kisses you then, and this kiss is wet and dirty, desperate. It is all teeth and tongue as he pulls his hips away from yours, only to push back into you. He wastes no time repeating the movement, pulling his cock out to the head only to shove it back in as quickly as it left your aching cunt. 

“You’re so fucking tight. Absolutely perfect for me,” he praises against your lips, and that causes your pussy walls to clinch around his hard member. “Shit,” he gaspes, feeling you grip him tight. 

His hips begin to piston harder and he pushes back into you, shoving your back up the door a little bit from the force of the blow. He keeps his pelvis pressed against you as he pounds his cock into you relentlessly. You can feel every delicious inch of him, his veins brushing along your walls causing you to clench around him.  

“Fuck,” you moan. “I’m gonna come,” you warn. “Come inside me.” Your words were tumbling out of your mouth again as if you had no control over them whatsoever. “Please,” you beg, squeezing your walls against him as his thrusts became more erratic. 

“You’d like that, yeah?” he asks, one of his hands moving between you, his fingers moving in circles around your clit. His forehead is pressed into yours, his breath fanning across your lips as he speaks. “I’m gonna fill you up so good baby,” he promises, suddenly pressing his fingers hard against your clit as hips stutter against your pelvis, the head of his cock nailing your g-spot. 

“Fuck,” Hyunjin moans desperately, his movements stilling as he suddenly comes, spilling into you ropes of hot, white ecstasy. He is still twitching inside you when you come hard, your legs squeezing around his body as your own body quakes from the pleasure of your release. His lips find yours again as he helps you ride out the high. 

“Holy shit,” you breathe against his lips once your body stops shaking against his. “I can’t believe we just did that,” you voice aloud. 

“But I’m sure as hell glad we did,” he said, kissing you hard and pressing his body against yours once more. 

“Me too,” you agree. “That better not be the last time either,” you add. 

He smiles against your lips then and chuckles softly. 

“I’m never getting enough of this now that you’ve given it to me,” he admits, his voice low. “I’m yours, baby,” he says, kissing you tenderly. 

It is at that moment you realize what the feeling you had felt earlier in the night was. You had fallen in love with your best friend. It only took him fucking you in a dressing room at an awards show for you to figure it out. 

There were worse ways to come to that conclusion, you think to yourself, thankful that no matter where or how it happened that it did. Things will definitely never be the same between you, but in the best way possible.

[moonpiies]

STUDY SESSION

𓆩♡𓆪 pairing : e-1610!miles morales x black!reader

𓆩♡𓆪 a/n : so glad my exams are finished🙏

𓆩♡𓆪 requested by anon

𓆩♡𓆪 likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated

you were currently spending the afternoon miles’s house trying to catch up on some homework and studying. miles was sitting at his desk drawing while listening to music while you laid comfortably on his bed trying to do some math homework due tomorrow.

you groaned as you were forced to erase the equation for what felt like the 100th time, “this is impossible.” you muttered to yourself.

miles looked up from his drawing and asked,“you okay?”

“no,” you said as you put your head in your hands, “this dumbass question is kicking my ass.”

miles chuckled a little as he got off his chair and sat on the bed beside you, “let me see, amor.”

“here,” you said as you handed him the book, “it’s question 8.”

“what’s it about?”

“algebra.”

“what do you need me to explain?” he asked.

“how to work it out and stuff.”

miles took a look at the problem and began to explain it to you. "so, first you need to isolate the variable on one side of the equation..."

you listened intently, trying to follow along. "wait, im confused. can you explain that again?"

"sure thing," miles said, patiently walking you through the problem.

a good twenty minutes later miles had finished explaining the topic to you again, “do you understand it now?”

“thank you so so much,” you said as you cupped his face and gave him a kiss on the lips, “ you’re the best.”

"you're welcome, but I think i should help you with your homework more often if that's the reward i get.” he said with a playful grin.

[kwanisms]

🅱🆈🅵

➤ Minors do not interact with me. If you are a minor or support minors being in adult spaces and potentially getting us adults in LEGAL trouble, you will be blocked and can fuck right tf off. Racists, homophobes, transphobes, and generally awful people stay the fuck away as well. You aren't welcome here.

➤ As much as I try to write gender neutral, I tend to write afab/female because it's what I know as a CIS woman, so keep that in mind. I am being more mindful when it comes to descriptors to keep skin tones, hair types/ lengths as neutral as possible. If I slip from time to time, I apologize. I keep forgetting Y/N is supposed to be "your name" and not some random person named Yin lol

➤ please note that I do write about some pretty heavy topics but all warnings will be posted with each part. It is your duty to read the warnings. You are responsible for the content you consume. Do not hold us accountable because you skipped or disregarded the warnings.

➤ Tumblr is based on a series of reblogs, not likes. Likes, while greatly appreciated, do not circulate posts and reach more audiences. Reblogs do. If you like my work, please reblog it.

➤ I firmly believe in 'you get what you give.' Hate mail will be responded to in kind. The anon feature isn't for cowards. Got something to say? Do it off anon and don't hide like a little bitch.

➤ I sometimes work 12 or 15 hour shifts. I just got accepted to go back to school so my time will be very limited. Do not ask for updates or I'll just delay posting that much longer.

➤ I will say this one time: to be added to my taglists from now going forward, refer to my pinned post for the links to my taglist form. If you have questions about the taglists, you can either send an ask or DM me directly. I'm not that scary, I promise.

I DO NOT ALLOW REPOSTS, TRANSLATIONS, OR CONTINUATIONS OF MY WORKS. If you see ANYTHING like this, please let me know. The ONLY work I've ever cross-posted was a few chapters of my first series, Crossing the Threshold, on my ao3. If you see my name, kwanisms, on any other platform, it IS me, I use that account to keep tabs on plagiarism and thieves.

©️ kwanisms // everything I post (original posts, not reblogs) belongs to me. All writing and graphics including banners, line breaks, etc. are made by me

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🆁🅴🆀🆄🅴🆂🆃 🆁🆄🅻🅴🆂

Requests are closed!

I mainly write for seventeen, ateez, and stray kids.

I sometimes write for txt, day6, super junior, & nct.

Occasionally, I may write for bts, exo, got7, monsta x, and wonho but more often than not, they will appear as background characters.

Most of my female side characters will come either as OCs or from gg like itzy, twice, red velvet, and aespa. Depending on the series, sometimes I will add or mention idol siblings as minor characters but they will not be heavily involved in the plots. (E.G: Hannah, Lucas, Olivia, Sofia, etc.)

As I mainly write NSFW content, below are the members for each group I write for as well as who my current muses are. These are subject to change.

!!! I will NEVER write for: l*ucas. Period !!!

!!! I will never write NSFW content for Chenle, Park Jisung, Taehyun, or Hueningkai !!!

current muses: Han, Changbin, Chris Bang, Lee Know, S.coups, Hoshi, San, Yunho, Seonghwa. You will see more stuff for these idols

svt: all members

atz: all members

skz: all members

txt: choi line only (yeonjun, soobin, beomgyu)

day6: all members (Jae will not be included in further day6 projects)

suju: yesung

exo: lay, z.tao, chanyeol, baekhyun, junmyeon

➤ WILL NOT WRITE:: watersports, scat, vomit, gore fetishes. I will also not write non-con or dub-con (con non-con is fine), incest, step-cest, illegal age gaps, aged down idols, furries (mild pet play is fine). I also will not include active recreational drug use. I will reference it in some stories for backstory purposes but none of my characters will actively take part in drug use during the events of my stories. Not even marijuana. Most alcohol mentioned in my stories is either wine or soju or a cocktail or two. More may be added at my discretion.

I reserve the right to not fulfill any request for any reason.

🆃🅰🅶🅻🅸🆂🆃 🆁🆄🅻🅴🆂

➮ going forward, these rules will apply to all taglists (see this post for why)

»» when filling out the form, PLEASE DO NOT USE A URL BEGINNING WITH 'https://". Just put in your username with the @ symbol. And do not fill out my taglists with links or the names of my own posts. There's literally no way for me to figure out who you are or what you mean. The name/URL is your @. It's really not that difficult. And please make sure it's spelled correctly before submitting. Otherwise, I won't be able to tag you.

»» if you change your blog name at any point AFTER joining the taglist, it is up to you to notify me of any changes. I will not seek you out to fix it. That's not my responsibility, that's on you. After 10 (ten) days, you will be removed from the taglist.

»» you must have your age listed or indicated somewhere on your blog. I have to know you're over 18. Ageless blogs and minors will NOT be added to taglists and will be instead blocked with minors being added to the ever-growing blacklist.

»» you must interact with the posts you want to be tagged in. If you do not, you will be removed from the taglist and a note will be made. I'm not going to do you a solid in exchange for nothing.

»» if you have been inactive without prior notification (on your blog or made a post) for 6 (six) months, you will be removed from my taglists. Anyone on announced hiatuses will be temporarily removed from taglists (unless discussed beforehand) and will be reinstated upon return.

»» do not send asks or DMs or comment on posts to join my taglists. You must fill out the form. I have the form linked on my pinned post and after the first of the year, I will be going through and updating the links on my posts. Remember me: lily of the valley. With school, work, and other life commitments, I cannot keep track of asks and comments for taglists anymore. Please use the form.

»» blank and empty blogs will not be added. If your blog is blank, it shows me that you don't reblog and you're only here to silently read. Which is fine, but you don't get to be added to taglists if you aren't going to interact with the stuff you consume. Reblogging is the best and most important thing you can do on this website. Likes are nice but there's no algorithm on here. All liking does is save the post in your likes, it doesn't help circulate the posts. Reblogging does. Writers want actual feedback. We love that shit.

»» please make sure your visibility is on! Anyone I cannot tag will be removed if the issue is not corrected after a few days. If I cannot initially tag you, I will message the blog you attached to the form. If I do not hear back in 10 days, you will not be added.

If for whatever reason, you absolutely cannot get the form to work for you, please send me a DM or ask to be added to the taglist but please, PLEASE, specify which taglist you want to be added to and what content you want to be tagged in (sfw, nsfw, both, etc.) Only use this option if you absolutely cannot get the form to work.

Link to taglist form.

[eternalmingki]

okay yknow what i might not know ateez that well but i listen to a ton of their music and my best friend is desperate to make me stan (esp hongjoong lol) so uhh

could i get an ateez reaction to their partner really liking horror? like slasher films and especially creepy videos i spend so much of my free time watching arg and creepy reddit stuff like nexpo hahahaha :') who'd be most likely to join you in watching, who would nope tf out, all that kinda stuff >:) don't actually know if this is your first request altogether but if it is i'm honoured lmao, ily and hope more requests find you soon 💞💕💞💕 also dunno how new your blog is but welcome to the kpop writing community regardless hehe

I love this! Thank you so much for the ask! And I would love to do this! It sounds like a lot of fun!

Ateez when they find out you like horror movies

❊ Pairing: all of Ateez x gn!reader

❊ Genre: fluff, comedy

❊ Warnings: light talk of horror, plenty of fluff

❊ a/n: Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated since that’s how the algorithm here works. So if you could reblog my works or leave a comment that would be greatly appreciated!

❊ a/n #2: ask are open!!! Please send them in! I would love to write little drabbles for your ideas!

Hongjoong:

he’s flabbergasted by this considering he knows you pretty well

he didn’t expect it at all

is also kind of concerned about you

has that perpetually confused look on his face for a couple minutes

but isn’t judging you at all

“no, no! i’m just surprised!”

he’s a little hesitant when you ask him to join you

he’s never been one for horror

but eventually he caves since he just can’t say no to you

he’s practically hiding behind you the whole time

gets pouty since he’s not the one protecting you

enjoys the closeness however

will proceed to ask for those kinds of movie nights when he’s free just to be close to you

“No this is not an excuse to hold you! how dare you accuse me of something like that!”

Seonghwa:

is confused, but supportive

as he is with everything when it comes to you

isn’t a fan of scary things

but is willing to try with you

you sit him down to watch some scary youtube videos

flinches every now and then with scary jumpscares, but doesn’t say anything

you get woken up by your boyfriend at like 3am though

he had a nightmare and has tears in his eyes

“i-it was about the scary things we watched.”

you have to console him and tell him they’re just scary stories and they aren’t real

so he ends up falling asleep in your arms, listening to asmr to calm him down

needless to say it’s not something you do often together

“i’m sorry about last night. but thank you for consoling me, angel.”

Yunho:

he’s honestly not super surprised

he’s constantly learning, so while initially surprised, he thinks your excitement is cute

will ask you questions about your favorite movies

he’s the one to ask if he can watch something with you

you happily agree

he’s a little jumpy while watching with you

but he ends up laughing it off

actually really enjoys it and finds it fun

constantly asks if you’re up for some scary movies

“i just like spending this time with you, baby.”

Yeosang:

not what he imagined

is greatly concerned for your well being

claims he’s not scared

actually gets really scared by stuff like that

hesitates when you ask him to join you for a movie night

does say yes eventually

holding onto you the whole time to “protect you”

ends up hiding in your neck

“not scared. just...tired.”

you end up consoling him anyway

you don’t have scary movie nights often

“how do you not get nightmares?”

San:

is entirely shocked

“are you like…mentally okay, lovely?”

looks at you weird for the rest of the day

is horrified when you ask him to cuddle in bed and watch scary youtube videos

but wants to be the big tough guy he isn’t is

is fine for a little while

the second there’s a jumpscare however?

he scares you with how loud he was

he covers his mouth after he screams

you can’t help but giggle and he whines

“it isn’t funnyyyy.”

you tease him about his girlish scream from that day forward, but only out of love

you no longer ask if he wants to because you know the answer will be no

“you’re an absolute weirdo.”

Mingi:

he

is

horrified

he never expected that out of his prince/princess

he has absolutely no words except

“that not what I was expecting to hear getting home today.”

you think his reaction is very funny

one day, you ask him to watch a movie

without asking, he sits down and agrees

in the first two minutes, he realizes it’s a horror movie and just stands up, going into the room.

“Mingi, darling, where are you going?”

“the room! you’re meeean.”

you make it up to him later with plenty of cuddles and kisses

“i guess you’re forgiven.”

Wooyoung:

is suspicious

and confused

and concerned

just a whole lot of adjectives when you tell him you like horror

you knew your eardrums would come to regret it, but you asked him to join you for a scary movie

not wanting to seem “weak” he said yes

you both regretted it

he was terrified beyond belief

and your eardrums felt like they were bleeding

he ended up hugging your arm, speaking in a whiny tone

“is it gone? i’m sorryyyy.”

you let him know it’s okay and just to stop please screaming in your ear

automatically he starts kissing the shell of your ear as an apology

“i’m sorry my baby. i didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Jongho:

isn’t too surprised

when you ask why, his answer is simple

“you just seem like that kind of person. seems sweet and innocent but is actually darker.”

it makes your heart swell that he’s so perceptive of you

one night you ask if he would like to join you for a horror movie night in bed

he agrees and you get very excited

he finds it endearing

all you’re doing is laying on his shoulder and his head on yours

and you both just talk about the movie

how that was a cheap jumpscare

or that cgi looks so fake

he’s unbothered and talks with you about it, which you love

he also wraps an arm around your shoulders and says something cheesy and kind of romantic for once

“even if you don’t get scared, i’ll protect you, I promise.”

There we are! I hope you enjoyed! I enjoyed doing this!!

Taglist: @jasirii @nateezfics @releasethypen

[waspenned]

scenes from an italian restaurant • part five • peter parker

being his friend wasn’t as hard as you thought it was. knowing you both, though, it’s only a matter of time before one of you ends up ruining it • 4k

warnings: nuffin

now playing: new york state of mind by billy joel

part one / previous / next

a/n: CAN U TELL IM RUNNING OUT OF RELEVANT BILLY JOEL SONGS but we move we move we move ALSO the next part needs to be written but uni is still uni-ing BUT im making good progress w my Big Deadlines!!!! also if u want to be notified when I post fic my taglist is here!! the song pete plays is speed racer by her’s. :)

Being Peter’s friend isn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be. 

It was oddly tentative and gentle, like you were some sort of rescue animal that he didn’t want to scare, but you didn’t necessarily mind. You liked that you were taking it slow, even though you’d seen Peter typing away on his phone during breaktimes, adding random questions to ask you to a list that was already miles long. The questions he did ask were mercifully vague and simple, beginner stuff like your favourite colour, and your favourite TV show; it was nice and easy, you didn’t have much of ‘nice and easy’ in your life.

The whole ‘one question a day’ thing had turned out to be quite fun, and you were now the proud keeper of Peter’s most precious secrets; such as his birthday, the existence of an Aunt May, and a phone number. You’d initially been reluctant to open things up outside of the diner, but so far it had been nothing but pictures of cats he saw on his walks, and (nearly as) beautiful photographs of the Manhattan skyline, so you supposed it was worth it. It was a lovely little surprise every time, a new stroke of paint on the canvas of Peter Parker, and it had become something to look forward to when you saw you were on shift together.

And sure, maybe he did end up knowing Spider-Man, but he’d promised you that he didn’t tell him any of the stuff you said in the pantry, and that was good enough for you. He’d assured you many times that Spider-Man wouldn’t care about what you’d said - not that you were too bothered about it, but you supposed that if you were to be on any of Spider-Man’s ‘sides’, you may as well be in his good books, just in case. You’d been tempted to ask about Spider-Man himself, as your Question, but you’d given it a good think over and decided that you’re only supposed to be invading Peter’s privacy, not Spider-Man’s.

All in all, it was going quite well. Since Christmas, you’d been promoted to manager, which meant absolutely nothing in terms of pay or responsibility, just that you were now entitled to be even bossier than usual, which was greatly welcomed. It’s great - until the rota comes out for the last week of January, and you’re on the closing shift on Saturday. 

And if it couldn’t get any worse, Peter’s name is printed next to yours in what seems to be the boldest, blackest ink you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Don’t get you wrong, you like Peter, you can admit that now, freely. But it’s all been a bit confusing trying to figure out whether it’s a friend-like or a like-like - a closing shift together would ruin all of the progress you’d made. The last time you were alone together you, well, you remember it well.

That stupid kiss seems to haunt your dreams. Sometimes you wake up in a cold sweat, the ghost of his fingers tangled in your hair, your stomach sinking at the realisation you were no longer in that moment. Sure, it may have been one of your biggest mistakes, but Goddamn if you don’t think about it every day, and wish that it had gone on for just a millisecond longer. One more second, and you’d be happy, even though you wanted to be greedy and keep him there forever. There was an absence of him that you were feeling, through to your core; not all at once, but in waves that ebb and surge against your spine. 

All of a sudden, he’s appeared at your side, like usual, looking at the shift schedule. You’ve learnt to just expect him to be there now, even though he’s as quiet as a fucking mouse and it makes you jump every time. He needs a haircut, you think, but you’d miss the little duck-tail curls at the nape of his neck, tickling the collar of his uniform. They’d been soft when you’d held the back of his head, pulling his lips to yours as you’d held him against the wall in the alley, wanting to grab a fistful and tug. If you’d just had a little bit more time, if you’d been thinking clearly, you would have-

“Well, lookie here.” He says and he snaps you out of whatever Campari-hazed daydream you’d been living in, all self-satisfied, holding a hand across his brow and squinting at the rota board. He’s being annoying as per usual, inching closer towards the sheet and following your name with his finger, sounding it out. “I wonder who that is. I hope I’m not all alone on the closing shift with a stranger.”

“Shut up, man.” The rest of your coworkers are clearing off, grumbling about opening shifts, and people they don’t like working with, but Peter seems to want to keep you from wiping down the tables - not that you’re complaining, that shit was boring as hell. He pokes at you, and you smack him away, watching him pull out his phone to mark the new shifts in his calendar.

“And just after I finally unlocked friendship status. This is devastating.”

“Dude, what?” Sal is staring at you through the service hatch, doused in flour, and points to the spray bottle of table cleaner on the back counter. You roll your eyes, then pick it up and pretend to start cleaning until he disappears again. Peter is still keying in his shift times when you chuck the bottle and rag down in the cleaning kit.

“‘The day I’m on the closing shift with you is the day we’re not friends anymore.’ That’s what you said at the Christmas- I mean, the Multi-faith Festive Coworker Gathering.” Huh. You don’t have much memory of saying it, granted, you’d sacrificed precious memory space for other more important parts of that night, but Peter certainly doesn’t need to know that. Still, you decide to stick to past-you’s guns, and double down on whatever spite was driving you that evening.

“And I stand by it.” He seems to think you’re joking, but you kind of aren’t. It’s been a while since you’d been left alone together; in fact, you’d been trying to avoid it, and there was no telling what would happen. It was stupid really, but there was this odd vibe between you two, humming with tension, and it was almost always worse when you were vaguely alone. Once, you’d bumped into him at the walk-in when you’d been sent to unload the grocer’s delivery, and the atmosphere had been crazy. 

“Is this new?” He’d said, gesturing to your hair, before hooking those stupid, strong hands under the pine slats and lifting the weight from you like it was nothing. It was new, ever so slightly, and you’d been surprised he’d even noticed, considering your hair was stifled by the diner cap for hours at a time. You’d been a little lost for words, distracted by the way his sleeves were pushed up to his elbows and how his hair fell in front of his eyes, a streak of passata across the apple of his cheek and his hands dusted with flour. Sal was shouting him from the kitchen - he must have been in the middle of making pizzas, but he’d come to help you anyway. There’s just no way he was allowed to be that pretty, and you’d still found him pretty when he’d laughed at the dumbfounded look on your face, throwing you a wink.

“Oh, what, you like the kitchen look? Eau de pomodoro?” For fuck’s sake, and now he had the audacity to speak Italian again; he had to want you dead. His accent was getting better, and it was something close to Hell for you to hear him speak it. God must have known you’d be too powerful, that’s why he had to give you a weakness in the form of being attracted to Peter Parker; just to level the field and make it fair.

But current Peter, the Peter he is when he’s around other people, and not the Peter he is when he’s alone with you, has taken up wiping down the counter for you, waiting for you to speak. You haven’t really got anything to say to him, your train of thought clouded by whatever possessed him to have a smile that may as well be illegal.

“You’re not allowed to play any of your stupid indie shit. We will suffer in silence and be done as quickly as possible; do you understand me?”

“I thought you liked my music-”

“Do you understand me?” Peter pulls some odd, sheepish face at the sudden intensity of your voice, tucking his chin to his chest. It takes him a second to answer, and he draws the syllables out reluctantly.

“Ye-e-e-es…” 

“Then we won’t have any problems. It’ll just be a normal closing shift, and everything will be fine.”

Then Saturday comes and it is, most decidedly, not a normal closing shift.

Peter starts blasting his stupid indie shit the second the last of your coworkers walks out of the door. You’re armed with the keys to the diner, ready to come at him with all the force you’ve got in your exhausted, pizza-scented body, watching him use a mop as a fake microphone. Mercifully, it’s only short - some fast-paced sixties sounding thing with a fuzzy quality, though you’re not quite sure if that’s the speakers - so you don’t see much of a performance before it’s over. You like Peter, you really do, but his awful attempts at the high notes start up a twitch in your eye, and it only intensifies watching him whip around his waiter’s cloth, pretending to dab stage sweat from his face. 

“Thank you very much, I’ll be here all night.” 

“I hate you so much.”

“Join in!”

“Die.” He’s barely offering up a fake pout before you’re snatching the mop from him and resting it against the counter. The floor is as mucky and perpetually sticky as ever, but Sal still insists on people wiping it down, even though it makes absolutely no difference. “You have to put this all shit away, and then we have to actually clean the place, dude. I want to be home before midnight.” 

He’s tailing you as you head into the kitchen again, intercepting you by scrambling over the counter and catching you on the other side, a hand on your upper arm. It’s small, a flash of contact with him, but your stomach drops at the sensation of it. Every single thing with this guy feels like a bullet to the chest, and he doesn’t even know.

“You don’t want to eat the leftover fries first?”

Well, now that he mentions it, it would be a waste. 

It was a stupid decision, you knew that the second you made it, because you had now spent entirely too long sat up on the counter, devouring a plate of fries between you. And it was not worth it, those things were gross and soggy, yet neither of you could stop eating them, chewing in near silence save for the distant murmur of Peter’s music. He’s straddling the tabletop of the counter, the aglets of his untied laces clinking against the metal of the stools as he swings his legs. You have your legs crossed, shoes kicked onto the floor to prevent germs transferring to the surface, drenched in the harsh, fluorescent overhead lighting.

“I’ve always wanted to sit on the counter.” He says after a while, muffled by a mouthful of grease and salt and potato; and you nod at him, watching him shovel more of the pathetic things into his mouth. “Like in the movies.”

“I’ve only gotten to do it a few times.” It seems you've reached your endpoint with the fries, because the next one you pick up is barely solid, and you throw it back down to the plate, face wrinkled in disgust. “Blegh, why are fries always gross when they’re cold?”

“Well, they’re starches.”

“Yes, and?”

“Starches need hydration to taste good, which can only really be absorbed when they’re hot. After they cool down, the moisture leaves the starches and goes into the crust, which makes them soggy; also- what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

He’s barely done with his mini science lesson before he notices the way you’re staring at him, practically speechless. It’s entertaining to see him suddenly become bashful, hiding behind the limpest fry you’ve ever seen, used as an example not two seconds prior. He only dares to probe further when you start chuckling to yourself, shaking your head.

“What? What is it? What did I do now?”

“Dude, you need to quit this job.”

“Because I know fry science?”

“No, because you deserve better. You have this crazy genius brain and you’re so nice to everyone even though they yell at you, and you decide you want to work here?”

You’ve been sitting on this for a while, since you found out just how insanely smart he was, and the extent of his college education. You were desperate to know how this man was pulling all As at one of the most prestigious universities in the country, and was still finding time to mess around on the closing shift with you. At first, you were impressed, but that soon gave way to disappointment; not towards him but on his behalf, that he’d been forced into a minimum wage job to afford to live instead of being allowed to just enjoy his time at college and invent robots, or whatever the hell it was he did. He’s frowning at you slightly, but he’s got that moony-eyed expression again, when he gets a compliment he doesn’t know how to accept.

“You’re smart, man, you’re too good for a diner.”

“But this is good!” Peter has always been far too enthusiastic about the diner as a whole, you think, to the extent where his relentlessly positive attitude severely unnerved you for the first few weeks of knowing him. He’s all animated in the body, eyes bright and warm like amberstones, like he’s just seen colour for the first time. “Joe’s is a cultural landmark - best pizza in the country!”

“Bestie, you think the job is worth all this shit because we have good pizza?”

“No- look.” He scrabbles around in his apron pocket for his phone, then scrolls for a moment, eyes scanning over the screen. It takes a second, but then he lights up with recognition, and flips the device so you can see whatever relic he’s unearthed from his camera roll. 

There’s a picture of a young boy, around seven or eight with an older man, sitting in what is unmistakably the corner table by the back wall of Joe’s, the photo wall looking considerably barer behind the two of them. It must have been taken a while ago, even all of the pre-fire decor in the background looked considerably newer than it did when you’d started working there. They’re smiling over a pizza, the child expressively wielding a cutting wheel, and the man trying to subtly prevent him from slicing anyone’s eyes out. It’s only when you look closer that you see a sliver of a familiar, awful scarf among the coats and jackets in the back of the picture, that the kid suddenly bears a striking resemblance to the man sitting in front of you.

“Holy shit, that’s you?”

“That’s me and my Uncle Ben. We used to come here all the time on Fridays after school.”

“Ugly Scarf Uncle Ben?” He lets you take the phone from his hand, and you zoom in on the kid’s face, holding it up next to Peter’s to compare the two. It feels like you’ve been handed something priceless and private, worth more than anything else in the world - your own personal Mona Lisa. He was a cute kid, the same lopsided smile as the bigger version, but his hair was longer and messier now, a thatch of brown curls and fuzz where it’s been slept on funny. “You were a cute kid, what went wrong?”

“Shut up, I’m trying to give you backstory here.” He’s laughing, and it’s the most beautiful sound in the world, as always. Something about his laugh made you want to drop everything and just breathe it in, to witness and savour it. “It was special. Everyone here was always so happy, I mean, look at the photo wall.”

Sal has, to your very vocal disdain, printed and hung the staff photo from the party, your expression looking even redder and bashful as if out of spite. Peter makes his debut on the wall behind you, grinning away as usual, and strung between you and Sal like he’d always been part of the Joe’s family. It would have been a great picture, if he’d decided to keep his mouth shut for just a millisecond longer. Somehow, though, you still manage to look happier than last year, quite comfortable tucked under Peter’s arm, and the ghost of a smile still hidden behind the wide-eyed surprise on your face. Across from you, Peter is looking at the photo, smiling to himself, completely lost behind the eyes.

“Well, why doesn’t he come anymore? He didn’t like the Great Sauce Change of 2016?”

“He actually passed away a few years ago.” 

Ah, fuck, that really does explain a lot. He’d been talking about his aunt more often these days, and you really should’ve picked up on the absence of an uncle, especially considering how much he’s been toting around that awful scarf all winter. Shit, you were so mean about the scarf - your gut twists in discomfort, fighting the urge to cringe at all the times you'd ragged on him about it. This is why you needed to learn how to hold your tongue.

“Oh, Peter.” You’re doing that tone of voice you know that you’d hate, but it’s almost involuntary at this point, and you’re not really sure what else you can say about it. It’s odd; you feel useless about it, in the mammoth shadow of his grief, but there really isn't anything you can do. There’s nothing to fix. “I’m sorry, man, I know saying that does jack shit, but-“

“No, it’s fine. I get what you’re trying to say.” He’s shrugging and fidgeting with the fries; ripping them in half, peeling the crust, pretending to stub them out on the surface of the plate like cigarettes. “I like this job because I get to give that to other kids, y’know? That time with their family or their friends. It means a lot.”

“I’ve never thought about it like that.” Peter looks up at you, gifts you a small smile, and returns to playing with his food. He’s stacking them now, building an odd-looking, greasy Jenga tower.

“It’s like I owe a lot of people a lot of different things-“

“We’re all in debt to the government, Pete, there’s no need to mince words.”

“No, not government debt it’s… different. Like a people debt.” He’s all soft in the face again, a slight knot in his brow with concentration, the glow of the streetlights casting a warm glow across his cheeks and shining on his eyelashes. The world outside is otherwise dark, but you’re safe in this little, bright cocoon with Peter, watching his hands work, as you usually are. He is, unfortunately, perhaps the prettiest person you’ve ever met, and so very, incredibly interesting to listen to. Something in your stomach turns; you need to put a stop to these thoughts, no matter how nice they might be to indulge, because you’d only just become his friend, and there was no way in hell you were ruining that.

“I get to pay my debt through serving the best pizza in the world, and I get to spend some time with my uncle. It’s a win-win. Also, my other job is stressful as hell, and it’s nice to come in here and have the biggest problem in my life be a mozzarella shortage.” He’s done with his tower, because it falls over for the third time and he seems to give up. He looks up at you, checking you’re done with the fries, then leaves the counter to sweep the rest into the trash. “It’s low risk; sure, I get yelled at, but nobody dies.”

“What the fuck is your other job? It sounds dramatic as shit.” It’s a lame attempt at brightening the mood, but it works, a smile breaking out on his face and laughter rumbling through him. “What are you, Spider-Man?-”

“I’m not having the Spider-Man conversation with you again!” Peter rolls his eyes at you, then nudges you with the rim of the plate, signalling for you to get off of the counter. You dismount, then follow him as he circles the diner, collecting the used plates and crockery. In the far corner, while you’re stacking up glasses, he gets distracted by the staff photo, grinning to himself as he looks it over. He spends a lot of time there, when you think about it, pointing himself out to customers and then pointing you out and laughing, making jokes and people-pleasing like he usually does. Once, you’d interrogated him about what he’d told them, and he just shrugged at you, miming zipping his lips like the first time you’d met him. You’d even asked the customers and apparently he’d sworn them to secrecy or something, because they wouldn’t budge.

“You gonna take advantage of your new managership to break the staff photo and blackmail me to stay quiet?” He says, tapping on the glass, and you frown at him, using your waiter’s napkin to wipe the fingerprints from the glass. Someone should dust these, the newest one is already a bit gross along the top of the frame. You hate the photo, but there’s not really any point in destroying it, because everything was digitised now. Maybe you could have gotten away with it a few years ago, before Sal had gotten his head around how phones work, but knowing him, he probably doesn’t know how to delete stuff, and it would just keep getting reprinted and replaced. Besides, it was the only souvenir you had of the party, aside from the hangover to end all hangovers you’d had to nurse for three days straight.

“Nah, I’m quite fond of it now.” One of the forks is slipping from the stack of plates in your hand, but Peter manages to catch it and put it in his own pile, without even a glance in its direction. He was weird like that, he had these creepily good reflexes, but you supposed it was just a genetic thing. He finishes his examination of the photo, then turns to catch your gaze, the moment quickly softening like syrup. 

“It was a good night.”

“It was a good night.”

There’s a second between you, where you’ve captured each other, and then you break from it, clearing throats and turning away, hiding bashful faces. Your heart is thrumming quick and fast in your chest, and practically rattles the dishes in your grasp, stirring the chipped, patterned ceramic into a frenzied racket. Peter takes them from you into his sturdy grip, and the brush of his fingers against yours sets your mind scrambling for something to change the subject, wiping the sensation of him away on your apron. 

“Right, let’s get the cleaning supplies out before we bump into the morning shift.” You’re turning to leave, and he’s following you, making a detour to dump the dishes in the sink and practically running to catch up to you as you open the door to the pantry, calling your name. It’s odd to keep the cleaning supplies in the same place as the food, but there’s not really much space in the restaurant to do anything else with them - and it’s not like someone’s gonna accidentally put bleach in the pasta sauce. He’s fumbling with his words as you flick the light on, and then he shuts the door behind the two of you, enclosing you.

“Do you ever think about it?” Peter’s on edge, the whole sentence tumbling out of him in a haphazard tangle, and you’re already jumping to wild, inappropriate conclusions about what’s making him so nervous. You want it to be you, but you take a breath, hoping he doesn’t see the shaking in your hands.

“The morning shift? Not really, I try to think about it as little as possible. Law of attraction and all that-” The cleaning box is in your hands, you’re so close to being free of this cursed, cramped space, where all you can smell is him and his detergent and whatever he’s been helping Sal out with, but there’s the clatter of plastic as Peter sets his hands on your upper arms, turning you around to face him. The contact burns, burying into your bones, and festering into a deep ache. When he speaks, your blood runs cold.

“No. The kiss.”

Ah, so you were doing this earlier than you thought. Great.

[softboydrew]

Hi! do you think you could write something about fans meeting Drew and wanting pictures and stuff while he’s out with y/n and y/n is just really proud of him and offers to take some of the pictures for them and fans really love her.

signings and impromptu goodies

"I love the city in the morning." y/n gleams at the nearby buildings while Drew held onto her hand, making their way towards the cafe on 6th.

People nod and say their 'good mornings' as the couple pass thousands of sleepy citizens, most getting ready for their days up above in apartments, maybe even still sleeping, or passing those who are already making their daily commute.

"I feel like people are nicer in the morning which is odd." Drew replies, looking around as the pair cross the street.

Y/n chuckles, tightening her grip on her boyfriend's large hand, his rings clinking against her's causing them to smile at one another before Drew reached for the front door of the cafe.

The bell above the door rings, signaling the workers that more customers have arrived for the morning rush, which caused the barista's and cashier's to look up and greet the couple happily.

"Good morning!" Drew and y/n say in unison while they stand in line, relieved that there are only three people ahead in line.

The line moves quickly and before they know it, Drew and y/n are ordering their regular iced lattes. On a whim, y/n decides to buy a box of treats, Drew bumps his hip into hers as she quickly inserts her card to pay for the order making the cashier chuckle at their banter of fighting over who'd pay.

"Shut up its just coffee and food!" y/n grumbles out as they move to the side and wait for their order.

Drew folds his arms over his chest, a playful glare slicing through y/n causing her to shove at his chest while shaking her head. "It was my turn, and you're starting classes again." he points making y/n scoff.

"Drew, really? can we not talk about this right now?" she questions making drew huff out in response.

The barista calls out y/n's name and hands them the lattes and the box of warm baked goodies. The couple thank the workers and head out towards the street, silently deciding to head towards the park and enjoy the morning air while people watching.

"Thank you," Drew finally says, "I love my coffee." he says, bumping his shoulder into y/n's, her giggle ringing around them as she rests her head against his arm.

"You're welcome." she hums as they turn the corner, nearing the park that's now coming into view. "Oh!" she says excitedly causing Drew's ears to perk up as he takes a sip of his latte, "I almost forgot to tell you about that apartment on-"

Y/n pauses as her and Drew both gasp out in shock as they hear a loud squeal from behind them, They turn around quickly to see where the noise is coming from and because their nosey, and they obviously need to know what's happening behind them.

To their surprise, they see a group of girls, younger than them, they're in school uniforms and Drew immediately understands why they're excited, and why they are making their way towards him and y/n.

"What is going- ohhhh!!" y/n nods happily as she steps back slightly to give Drew his space to meet the girls who begin to stand around him.

"Oh my God we saw you down the street and were scared to call your name!" one girl smiled.

"I couldn't not scream when I saw you!" another squealed.

"You're Drew Starkey right?" another one blushes.

Drew smiled happily, "Yes! It's nice to meet you guys! You can call my name any time." he chuckles making the girls swoon, blushing, and nervously looking at each other as they ask him to sign whatever they were carrying. Some asked him to sign their phones, backpacks, arms, and notebooks.

Giggles and loud murmuring erupt all around them as Drew make's conversation with the girls causing y/n to smile shyly, not really knowing how to act, or what to do.

"Can we get a picture?"

"Of course!" Drew says, watching the girl's take out their phones so they can all take selfies.

One girl peers over towards y/n and smiles and waves. Y/n smiles brightly and waves back, she shuffles closer causing the girls to turn their attention towards her.

"Hi guys!" y/n says.

"You're y/n!!" one girl says excitedly, "You guys are dating right?"

Drew smiles at y/n and pulls her towards him in conformation, "Yep, she's the reason why I'm always in New York!" he winks making everyone chuckle.

"You're so pretty!" One girl says.

"Thank you!" y/n blushes and laughs, pointing at the rest of the girl's before flying her hands up as she looks around at the pretty faces in font of her, "You all are literally so gorgeous! and so nice."

Conversation begins to flow between the small group, jokes, laughter, and questions fill the corner of 6th street as fans get to know an actor and his girlfriend.

More pictures begin to snap and y/n offers to take the photos, making sure to be generous by snapping a bunch to make sure that different angles and poses are being met.

"Can we all take a picture together?" the fan's ask Drew and Y/n making them happily oblige.

Even though y/n nods, she's shock as to why they want a picture with her in it, she's nowhere near famous, she's just a college girl with an average gpa.

"Lets all say, I'm a proactive person!" Drew shouts as he throws up his middle finger causing everyone to laugh and repeat after him, holding out their fingers to the camera as he snaps the group selfie. "This is amazing," he says looking at the picture. "I'm posting this and tagging you guys." he says making them all stare at him in shocked excitement.

While Drew begins his posting process, asking for the girl's instagrams, y/n grips onto the box of goodies as her eyes light up as an idea comes to mind. "Do you guys want some croissants or cannolis? I got them from the cafe down the block."

The girls all nod, thanking y/n as she opens the box for them to peer inside and take the ones that catch their eye. "These are so good. thank you y/n!"

"Of course!" she says before they all take turns going in to hug y/n and Drew. The girl's decide that they should probably head towards school before they end up being late which cause the couple to laugh and say their goodbyes, sending them on their way.

As the pair watch the group of girls head in the opposite direction, they decide to continue making their walk towards the park.

Drew smiles from ear to ear while looking down at his phone revealing the instagram picture that was now posted. Y/n beams up at him and kisses his shoulder, "I'm so proud proud of you. That was incredible."

Drew blushes, throwing his shoulder around her and squeezing her tight against his side, "I think they liked you more than me!" he jokes causing them to laugh loudly.

-

a/n: reposts, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated xx

taglist:@pogueslandia @carolineworld @estrellarimar @jemimah-b99 @thinkofmehlgh @drewstrkeys @hoellandstarkeytch

[a-edgar-allan-hoe]

Charles x Reader, Erik x Reader, Logan x Reader One Shot

A/N: Here is the one shot requested by my lovely anon! I do hope you enjoy this one! 💕💕💕 I was literally listening to a Harry Potter classroom ambience while writing this for some odd reason haha. Also there will be a part 2 and feedback is greatly appreciated lovelies! 💕💕💕

Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. You became close friends with Logan during the civil war and he has been like a father figure for you ever since. During the recent years you were discovered by Charles and Erik, and after finding out your identity, Charles recruited you into being a professor at his school. But though you became close with the trio over the years, there are some things you wish to keep hidden.

Warnings: language, angst

“Okay class.” You stood up from your desk to face the chalkboard behind you as you moved on to your next lesson, “Does anyone know what the six popular types of poetry are?” You felt a sudden rush of wind behind you, making your hair blow towards your face as you rolled your eyes, turning around to face the young silver-haired teen who displayed a proud smirk on his face while sitting in his seat as if nothing happened. “Peter Maximoff, if I catch you doing laps around my classroom one more time…………..I’m going to turn all your band shirts into bands you hate.” 

“What? Aw come on Ms.Hekate.” Peter slid down in his seat with his head thrown back, exasperating as he did so. “Not my band shirts.”

“Keep it up and you’ll start to see Madonna and Abba on your shirts.” You smirked. “Now, since you oh so greatly volunteered to answer, what are the six popular types of poetry?”

“I don’t know, the ones that rhyme.” Peter shrugged at the question, causing some of the students snicker in response.

“Well,” you chuckled at his answer “there are some poetry that have rhymes, but there are also some that do not necessarily have to rhyme, like blank verse and free verse. Blank verse for example, is a poetic form that features rhythmic rules, such as iambic pentameter, but no rhymes.” You faced the class as you leaned against your desk, using your telekinetic abilities to grasp the chalk and write the info down on the board, a violet mist forming around your fingers and around the piece of chalk. “Free verse on the other hand, is an open form of poetry, which in its modern form arose through the French vers libre form. It does not use consistent meter patterns, rhyme, or any musical pattern and thus tends to follow the rhythm of natural speech. Now, does anyone else know what the six types are? Anyone?” You looked around before picking on the red-haired girl in front who had her hand up. “Yes Jean?”

“Um the six popular types of poetry are Haiku, Diamante, uuuhhh Cinquain, Ballad, Sonnet, and Limerick.”

“Excellent Jean! That is correct.” You grinned, the chalk behind you hovering in the air and moving rapidly as it wrote down the different types along with a short description beneath them.

“Ms.Hekate?”

“Yes Peter?”

“Why do you only teach literature and folklore and mythology classes? How come you don’t teach us magic witchcraft and potions and stuff, you know?”

The students perked up at his question, their eyes sparkling up at the idea as they whispered to each other words of excitement.

“That’s a good question Peter. You’re welcome to ask professor Xavier about it or start a petition. Now, I want you to open up your books and turn to page 394. I mean 36! Sorry! Please turn to page 36. We will be doing a reading of the poem ‘To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time by Robert Herrick.”

“Virgins huh?” Peter snickered, making you glare at him lightheartedly.

“Quiet now Peter before I make you read the whole thing in front of the class.” You grabbed the leather bound book off your shelf before hoisting yourself up on your desk and standing upright on it, straightening the black turtleneck sweater you wore and smoothing down your gray plaid pants.

“Uuhhh Ms.Hekate.” You heard Scott speak up.

“Yes Scott?”

“Why are you standing on your desk?”

“A different perspective you might say. Something all of you will be trying tomorrow.”

“Wait what?”

“Alrighty.” You cleared your throat before speaking loudly, holding your book out before you with one hand while your other hand was shoved in your pocket. “To the Virgins!-“

“What’s this talk of virgins?”

You stopped, your eyes widening at the voice that just now spoke while your own became trapped in your throat as you saw a man enter your classroom, lingering in the back as his piercing blue eyes bore into yours.

“Ch-Charles.” You blinked. “I-I didn’t expect you here.”

The students looked between you and Charles with amusement painted on their faces as they giggled at your flustered expression, some of them leaning over to whisper in each other’s ears.

“Well don’t let me stop you from whatever it is you’re doing.” Charles smiled politely at you, his eyes lit up in curiosity from your stance on your desk. “Don’t mind me, I’ll just be……quietly observing.”

“Well thank you for joining us Charles. But, you know better than anyone else, that there are only participants in my class, not observers. So if I ask you a question you best be ready to answer it.” You snarked, smirking at the puzzled look that now masked his face before clearing your throat once again, holding your book out before you and reading off the page you had turned to.

“To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time. By Robert Hedrick.

Gather ye rose-buds while ye may,

Old Time is still a-flying;

And this same flower that smiles today

Tomorrow will be dying.”

You glanced up from under your lashes to see Charles’s eyes still glued to you as he listened to your every word. Such a simple action made your cheeks heat up and your stomach spin as you held the book higher to cover your flushed face.

“The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,

The higher he’s a-getting,

The sooner will his race be run,

And nearer he’s to setting.

That age is best which is the first,

When youth and blood are warmer;

But being spent, the worse, and worst

Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,

And while ye may, go marry;

For having lost but once your prime,

You may forever tarry.”

You closed the book back up, setting it aside as you sat down on your desk and faced the students. “Now, can anyone tell me what the biggest element of this poem is? Yes Kurt?”

“Ummmmm………Carpe Diem?”

“Correct!” You smiled at Kurt as the piece of chalk behind you wrote Carpe Diem in large letters with a line underneath. “Carpe Diem is in fact the biggest part about this poem. Now….Charles, can you tell me what Carpe Diem means?”

Charles straightened up in his seat as he looked up at you confounded, surprise hidden behind his eyes on the fact that you kept your word on having him participate. “Well it means seize the day.”

“Yes, true. Carpe Diem is a Latin term most commonly known as ‘seize the day’, but, the term originally means ‘to gather or pluck the day’. It was originally used by the Roman poet Horace to express the idea that time is limited and we should enjoy life while we still can. His full directive was ‘carpe diem quam minimum credula postero’, which is translated as ‘pluck the day, trusting as little as possible in the next one’. Now, for all of you night owls out there who can’t stand the sun like me, Carpe Noctem is perfect for you because it translates to ‘seize the night’.”

You briefly glimpsed up at your clock, hissing and nearly falling off your desk once you saw that you had only a minute and a half left of your class. “Alrighty my little poets! Today’s word of the day was Carpe Diem or Carpe Noctem! I want you all to ingrain that into your minds! Write it down, paint it on a canvas, make an artwork out of it, tattoo it on your forehead I don’t care! ACTUALLYDONTDOTHELASTONE! Please, for the love of all things holy, do not tattoo your foreheads. We will finish this lesson tomorrow and discuss some more themes. For homework, I want you all to pick a poet and one of their poems and try to analyze some of the themes we have already discussed. I will be having you read those poems aloud to the class. Extra credit will be given to those who decide to come in costume, dressed up like their chosen poet. The more dramatic the better! Fake beards are welcome, fake phalluses are NOT! For the love of the gods, please choose something PG. We are not learning about Greek Satyr plays, let’s keep that a thing of the past thank you very much and kindly. You will all be respectful to each other’s performances! There will be no snickering, no laughing, no chastising, and I will not have you behaving like a babbling, bumbling, band of baboons! Those who choose to do the things I have specifically said not to, will receive a very friendly spirit with a penchant for grabbing the bare feet of problematic students at the foot of their beds during the stroke of midnight.” You stopped to take a breath after having to ramble everything just as the bell rang.

“Thank you all for being a lovely bunch and I will see you all tomorrow! Good day! Hasta la vista! Fare thee well! Fly, you fools!” You shouted over the bell ringing as everyone got up from their desks and bustled about, getting ready to go to their next class.

“Did you really just threaten the students with necromancy?” Charles quirked a brow in amusement as he slowly made his way over to you once all the students left your classroom.

“Ehhhhh an empty threat really.” You shrugged, playing it off though you failed to truly disguise the smirk that pulled at the corner of your lips.

“Right.” He chuckled, “And whatever was the issue with the phalluses? You seemed to be really adamant about that.”

“Well…..long long time ago, way back in the lands of ancient Greece.” You leaned back on your hands as you began to explain the story behind your dislike for satyr plays and their rather vulgar uses of the phallus, swinging your loose legs over the edge of your desk. “When I was just a wee teen, or you could say 15 in human years, my sisters Athena and Artemis took me with them to roam the markets of the mortals. Being the rebellious and angsty teen that I was, I didn’t want to be dragged along for their shopping, so I separated from them in search of food and something new to discover.”

“And? Did you find food and something new?”

“I did discover something new, though to be honest I wish I didn’t. But I disappointedly did not find any kolokithopita, which I was extremely craving at the time, it’s like a flaky pastry dough filled with zucchini and feta cheese and it is soooo good, you have got to try it.” You gestured with your hands as you tried to describe the food. “But anyways, back to the story. I heard some laughter coming from afar so I followed the sound and found a group of people gathered around a stage. Being the curious teen that I was, I tried to get a good look at whatever the hell these people were laughing at. Lo and behold. Turns out, I accidentally stumbled upon a Satyr play, which I’m sure you’ve heard about. And let’s just say, I have never u-turned and bolted so fast in my entire life and never have I ever been more traumatized.”

Charles laughed at your storytelling, his frame shaking with mirth as he shook his head at the thought. “You poor thing.”

“Yeah, I wanted to scoop my eyeballs out after seeing that. And I think I might’ve puked on someone on my way out.” Your voice became barely audible at the last part. “But also because one time during a poetry reading I took part in way back, some asshole thought it would be funny to wear a fake phallus on full display and try to reenact one of the scenes from those kinds of plays.”

“Well then that explains your dislike for them.”

“Yes, very.” You chuckled. “You know, your students want me to teach witchcraft and magic.”

“Do they?” Charles tilted his head at your words. “Let me guess, was it Peter that mentioned it?”

“It was. How did you know?”

“He may have tried to…..nonchalantly bring it up in my class. Hypothetically, is there a possibility in being able to teach such things?”

“Just really basic spells and potions. Most of the things that I can do are my natural abilities though. Waaiiit…….is that a possibility?”

“Possibly. If there’s no harm in it and none of the students have to sell their soul to you to learn your tricks.” Charles teased.

“Oh definitely not. But they’re welcome to make sacrificial offerings in the form of food.”

Charles laughed again, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his boyish laughter rung out through the room, causing you to chuckle along with him.

“So…….are you serious though?” You stopped, turning your head to look at him with eagerness hidden behind your eyes at the prospect of having your own magic class. “Will I really be able to teach magic to the students? Like my very own Hogwarts?”

“I’m sure I can make some arrangements.”

You nearly jumped off the table in excitement, clasping your hands together between your knees and biting the bottom of your lips to hold back a squeal before breaking out into a big grin. Charles smiled softly at your reaction. A tight pressure like feeling formed within his chest, not one of pain, but of adoration as he took in the pure cheerfulness that painted your features. Your irises which resembled the galaxies in hues of purples and gold, now sparkled from your emotions against the sunlight that managed to hit them at the right angle.

“How could I ever thank you?”

“You don’t need to. The students enjoy having you, that in itself is enough.” Charles smiled before looking up at you intently. “You know. All this poetry and you never read me any.”

“Maybe because you’re not special.” You teased.

Charles feigned a wounded expression, dramatically throwing a hand over his heart. “Ouch. You really do know how to break my heart y/n.”

“Oh please.” You rolled your eyes before grabbing your poetry book and shoving it at him lightly. “Here, you read one then.”

“Me? For whatever reason? Is it because you fancy my voice?” He smirked, poking fun at the time that you admitted you found his voice to be soothing.

“Well don’t go tooting your own horn. You’re no Christopher Lee.” You scoffed, trying your best to hide the blush that crept onto your cheeks, cursing yourself and wishing you had never told him that. Now you were never going to hear the end of it and he was to make sure of that.

Charles chuckled softly at your statement as he opened up your book and flipped through the pages. You stared at the dark wooden wall at the other side of the classroom, listening to the crisp sound of the turning of pages until Charles paused at a certain one and scanned the contents on the page, his eyes lifting to briefly glance up at you before clearing his throat.

“She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impaired the nameless grace

Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o’er her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express,

How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!”

“She Walks in Beauty by Lord Byron.” You noted, recognizing the same lines that you became fond of when the piece itself came out. “I’ve always loved that one.”

Charles closed your book back up, his blue eyes lingering on the distant look that was held in your eyes like the stillness of the air that accompanied the dark clouds of an oncoming storm. The room had started to cast a shadow on your face, deepening the small scars that lined your face from the many battles you had once fought. And though he had come to recognize those, his gaze became fixed on the dark circles under your eyes, knowing they weren’t there a day ago.

“Y/n is everything alright?” He asked, his voice quiet and soft, and his brows creased in worry. He didn’t need to read your mind to know that something was deeply troubling you.

“Hm? Oh yeah I’m fine! I just…….been having trouble sleeping, nothing major.”

“Are you sure? You know if there’s anything upsetting you, you can tell me, I’m here.”

“I know.” You smiled at him, reaching over to hold his hand. “I’ll come to you if I need anything. Thank you Charles, for everything.” You slid off your desk to place a soft kiss at the top of his head. “Now, I’d hate to leave you and all, but I don’t have any classes for the rest of the day and I’m feeling a bit tired so I’m going to go rest.”

“Of course. You take care of yourself darling.”

“I will thanks. See you later Charles.” You smoothed your hands over his soft hair before leaving the classroom and heading up to your room. A tugging sensation bubbled within your chest from having to lie to him, filling you with feelings of guilt. But you had to. You didn’t have the heart to tell him about the nightmares, or the searing sensation that coursed through the skin on your back whenever you woke up from them, the vividness of your dreams and the excruciating pain a constant reminder of your past.

Charles watched you leave the room in silence with a small frown on his face that only grew deeper the further away you went. He knew you spoke the truth about not being able to sleep, but he couldn’t help but feel there was a more chasmic layer to your explanation. And though he dared not to read your mind to find out the truth and instead trusted you to tell him when you found it in yourself to do so, something told him that whatever was slowly eating at you would soon consume you whole.

[dragon-kazansky]

Just one | Helmut Zemo

Requested by anon

Gender neutral reader

Sam and Bucky were so confused about where Zemo was taking them. The Baron had given them very little information on where they were headed, just that they were going to someone Zemo trusted.

That alone was enough to raise suspicion. They didn't trust Zemo, so how would they trust someone he trusted?

They went along with him anyway.

The house he had taken them too was slightly hidden away from prying eyes. It's a building you would only really notice if you were looking for it, so a good place to hide away in if need be.

Zemo knocked on the door and waited.

Sam and Bucky looked at one another, then back at Zemo.

"Will you at least tell us who were are meeting?"

They didn't get an answer.

The door opened and you appeared, smiling at Zemo when your gaze landed on him. He smiled back, looking just as happy to see you.

"Y/N." He leans and kisses either cheek, you doing the same.

"Helmut! It's so good to see you again. Are these the men you spoke about?" You look at Sam and Bucky.

"Yes, may we come in?" He asks.

"Of course." You move out of the way and let them all in. You look both ways up the street before closing the door. You walk into your living room with them and have them make themselves at home.

Zemo instantly follows you over to your kitchen where you begin to prepare drinks for them all.

Sam and Bucky share a look. They look back over to see you and Zemo chatting and smiling.

"Did you know he had friends?" Sam asked, keeping his voice low as to know disturb you and Zemo catching up.

"No, did you?"

"No. He hasn't mentioned anyone this entire time. Someone actually wants to be friend with this guy? Even after everything he did?"

Bucky shrugs and glances over to you. You were laughing at something he had said. You two were just getting along.

You only stop chatting as you bring the tea over, preparing Zemo's favourite. You knew what he liked.

You and Helmut sit down with the boys.

"You have a friend?" Sam asks, unable to contain himself.

You chuckle from where you sit.

"Yes, I do. You're surprised?" Zemo asks, smiling cunningly at him.

"I don't think surprised covers it, you know who is he is right?" Sam asks, looking at you.

"Yes."

"And you're friends with him?" Bucky asks this time.

"Yes," you sip your tea, unfazed by their questioning.

"How long have you known him?"

"Years. We were much younger when we first met. I told Helmut that if he ever needed me, I'd be there for him."

Zemo smiles at you.

"He's killed people," Sam states.

"I know."

"He brainwashed me," Bucky tells you.

"I'm aware."

They look at each other again and then back at you. You share a glance with Zemo, but tour silent conversation was much different to theirs.

You smirked.

Zemo sipped his tea, eyes full of amusement.

Sam and Bucky would never understand.

"We are just surprised someone like Zemo has a friend."

"Y/N is my only friend. I value what we have greatly. Even if the rest if the world turns it back on me, I know Y/N will not. Everyone should have a friend like that," Zemo says, smiling fondly.

He always held you in such high regard.

"Zemo is always welcome in my home. You two are only welcome for now. Do what you have to do and then leave," you tell them rather strictly.

Zemo was amused by your attitude toward the pair. If there was any other way, he wouldn't have brought them here to bother you, but he really needed your help.

"That's fair. We shall be pit of your hair in a few days," Zemo says.

"Alright. Though I better see you more after this, Helmut. It can be a little lonely without your visits."

He smiles.

"Of course. I'd be a terrible friend if I didn't."

You chuckle softly and show them all to their rooms. You leave Zemo to last just you can catch up a little more in privacy.

He gives you a hug and smiles.

"It is so good to see you again," he says.

"And you too. How have you been, I've been worried about you."

"I'm doing better now. I can always rely on you, can't I?" He asks, though he had mo reason to. He had always known the answer to that.

"Of course. Whatever happens, you can always find me here."

"And I will protect you. It won't be safe for you to stay here after we leave."

"Then send word and I'll meet the wherever you need me. Don't let them lock you up again, Helmut."

He winks at you with a cheeky grin.

This man has a plan, he just can't share it yet. You smile at him. You trust him. Everything will work out the way it was suppose to.

Zemo didn't need many friends. Just one, and he had the best he could ever ask for.

Sam and Bucky had no idea what you were scheming in the next room over.

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @gingerwriter97 @lunamooney2406 @wilder-fangirl @belle82devart @hb8301 @stardancerluv @killeromanoff @cathrin2405 @zemosimp420 @charistory @sleepyflutist18 @supercharged-tatertot @belle82devart @sexyundeadtrash @realremyd

[calliecat93]

Okay, I know that the Spones content in Bread and Circuses has been talked about before, so I’m likely adding nothing new. But heck with it, I’m talking about it anyways cause it’s just too good not to!

The episode has Spock and McCoy somewhat saltier towards each other than usual. From the second the episode resumes after the opening credits, they’re snarking at each other almost immediately. It goes on for so long that we have the guest character outright ask Kirk if they’re enemies, and even he isn’t for sure. It’s almost like one of the writers anticipated the fact that some would legit think that the two genuinely hated each other, and decided to ask the question. For the most part, their banter is mutual and they’re clearly trying to rouse a reaction from the other.Even when at gunpoint, McCoy just HAS to snap at Spock for “[being] so blasted honest?’. Spock’s raised brow to me almost came across like ‘really doctor? must you be like this now?”. It’s got some amusing stuff, like the banter in the beginning and McCoy of all being being the one to suggest illogic regarding sun worshipers has Spock giving some utterly hilarious facial expressions. But still, the banter goes enough that event he audience has to ask: are these two truly enemies.

The rest of their scenes answer the question.

During the gladiator fight, McCoy’s still so pissed off that even fighting to the death won’t stop him from yelling at Spock when he asks if he needs help. Stress and you know… trying not to die is a factor, but still. But since McCoy’s a doctor, not a warrior he’s about to be killed… until Spock takes out his own opponent and nerve punches McCoy’s before he can be harmed. Doing this breaks the rules and Kirk chooses to take what would be their death sentence upon himself. Spock acted on pure instinct in that instant. Or even more bluntly, it was an emotional response. He interfered because he didn’t want McCoy to die, and he was the only one in a positon to save him. He even seems pretty started that he did so. But because of i, now Kirk is going to die in their places and neither he nor McCoy can do anything about it. He outright pulls at the cell bars, according to McCoy, fifteen times. Logically it’s pretty clear that it’s not working.

With this, McCoy’s now cooled down enough that he legitimately tries to thank Spock for saving him. It’s awkward, neither one are very good at having heart-to-hearts with each other. Spock pretty much acts like it’s the usual banter and kind of condescendingly before telling him to get to the point, which causes McCoy to just snap it out at him. Spock tries to go into the usual ‘I’m a logical Vulcan’ spiel, saying quote:

Spock: Oh, yes. You humans have that emotional need to express gratitude. You're welcome, I believe, is the correct response. However, Doctor, you must remember I am entirely motivated by logic. The loss of our ship's surgeon, whatever I think of his skill, would mean a reduction in the efficiency of the Enterprise and therefore-.

Which is what finally gets McCoy pissed off enough to directly confront him about it. Why? Because he knows that Spock’s spitballing here. He’s trying to deny his emotional responses, despite having demonstrated it at least twice with McCoy right there for both of them. Saving McCoy despite knowing the consequences of doing so was an emotional response. Trying to escape the cell due to Jim’s life being in danger despite all efforts failing is an emotional response. He tries to say it’s just due to professionalism, but at this point there’s been enough episodes that the audience knows that that’s not true. McCoy absolutely knows it. He knows how Spock tends to keep his emotions suppressed and deny that he even has them, even though he very clearly does. It is a factor that has continuously frustrated McCoy. He’d never force Spock to be outwardly emotional, Plato’s Stepchildren made that VERY clear. But when it DOES happen and Spock tries to act otherwise? And after having dealt with this for nearly two years now? Yeah, McCoy decides that he’s had it as he grabs Spock, turns him around so that they’re making clear eye-contact, and makes his opinion VERY clear.

McCoy: Do you know why you're not afraid to die, Spock? You're more afraid of living. Each day you stay alive is just one more day you might slip and let your human half peek out. That's it, isn't it? Insecurity. Why, you wouldn't know what to do with a genuine, warm, decent feeling.

Which… he’s not entirely wrong. Even during this, Spock turns away from him like he doesn’t want to talk about it. But McCoy’s right. Spock’s been at war with his Vulcan and human halves for his entire life. He chose to suppress the human half, and it peaking out does concern him. He isn’t able to settle two sides, hence why he’s always insistent about being a logical, unfeelign Vulcan. Now we all know that Vulcans DO feel things. Very strongly in fact, hence why they suppress it to begin with. But I do think it’s safe to say that Spock is afraid of expressing or even talking about his emotions. Whenever he does, he needs to get his grip back on the Vulcan side as quickly as possible. Even though he knows that McCoy knows otherwise. McCoy is pretty damn good at picking up on Spock’s emotional state and Spock knows it. And I think to at least an extent, he knows that McCoy’s correct. McCoy might be being too harsh admittedly, but the point is there. Spock is afraid of letting his human half slip out and the constant struggle of keeping it in check.

I think this is what makes their relationship so important. McCoy’s really the only person who can provoke Spock like this. Sure Kirk can normally reach out to Spock, but he’s not as likely to directly confront Spock and be blunt about it the same way that McCoy can. Spock’s also really the only person who’s ever been able to provoke McCoy and get him think past his own perspective the way that he does. It’s vitriolic in many ways. Like I said, it’s hard for them to really be civil with each other most of the time. Even here when McCoy did try to start off as civil when he tried thanking Spock, it ultimately devolved into another argument. Even McCoy expressed that he isn’t sure why it’s always like this when he says “ I know we've had our disagreements. Maybe they're jokes. I don't know.” But I do think that the episode demonstrates the answer to the queation of if they’re enemies. The short answer is no. The long answer is that they have a very complicated relationship that on a surface level, comes across as hatred. It gets to the point where even they aren’t fully sure. But the truth is they do care about each other greatly. They understand each other a great deal. They’re the only ones who can reach out to the other. The way that they show it is unorthodox sure, but it’s how it works for them.

And even when they are particularly heated, it always ends with them coming down from it and finding a point of unity. In this case, there is absolutely one thing that they can agree on.

Spock: Really, Doctor?

McCoy: I know. I'm worried about Jim, too.

While their concern for Jim is true, I think McCoy brought used that more as a way to bring them both back down after the exchange. Jim and his well-being is very much the one thing that they can agree on. I serves as a calming down point for them n this particular instant. After this while they don’t have anymore direct interactions, they seem to be on good terms and even enter the Bridge together at the end. They still have their heated moments in later episodes such as The Paradise Syndrome and The Tholian Web. But I think that for those who really do think that Spock and McCoy hate each other, I’d say watch this episode again and give their interactios a closer look. Especially the prison scene. Because it shows that for all their banter, for all their differences, there is a strong connection that is very much uniquely them.

[clarawatson]

It Only Takes A Taste (3)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x [Fem]!Reader (GN pronouns, fem coded stuff, but I’m not sure where this is going as a larger work so we’ll say Fem!reader to be safe) Summary: Jack comes for dinner, I guess. W/C: 2345 Warnings: none yet! A/N: this one got a little long, oopsies. AO3 Where am I in this series? 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 |

The bed had been so warm and comfortable you hadn't wanted to get out, but the thought of seeing Aaron again made your heart grow three sizes. You'd been texting back and forth for the last couple of days, just small awkward stuff. He likes to text emojis. He's precious. Of course he's precious. 

He comes in as you're serving your first customer of the night—a sobbing thirty-year-old man who can't even order his pie without spluttering in tears. Is it favouritism to get excited by Aaron turning up? Yes. Is it worth it? Yes. 

"Hello," you smile. There's a hundred things you could have called him, but he's too cute and your brain doesn't want to work. 

"Hi," he grins back. "Can I have a coffee, please. Here."

"Yes you can." Aaron splits his bill between the counter and the tip jar. "How was your day,  Aaron?" 

"Boring paperwork. Couldn't concentrate."

Concern furrows your eyebrow. "Is something wrong?"

"Huh? No! I kept thinking about seeing you." There's that sunshine smile again. You might even match it yourself. He points to the cake that's still in the display tin. He's in earlier in the night than usual, so there's a lot more range to choose from. "Is that carrot cake?" 

"Sure is. Do you want some?" 

"Please." 

You serve him a slice and let the coffee machine splutter and fight with you. He stabs his cake with his fork and looks like he has an out of body experience the moment the cream cheese icing hits his tongue. That's a face you want to see again under different circumstances.

"Joe?"

"Me! And Joe's recipe. I sort of mixed it together and prayed."

"Then mark me a religious man." Aaron smiles. You can't held but smile back at him.

"It's a bit early for you to be in," you say. It's not an issue, just means you got the earlier shift. Finishing at 1am instead of 7am. Plus, Aaron looks nice in the daytime. Very nice. The afternoon light suits him.

"Didn't have a case," he shrugs. 

You've googled him since getting his business card. “Supervisory Agent Aaron Hotchner, Section Chief of the BAU”. The fuck did that even mean? BAU was the Behavioural Analysis Unit, which was still mainly a mystery, but you think it’s maybe just an over-glorified way of saying ‘they look inside people’s heads and hope for the best’. He’s got a handful of news reports that you’ve practically memorised. 

Okay, that’s a little obsessive. Don’t admit that to him. 

He wasn’t the ‘untouched by darkness’ that you’d thought of him before, his work face held all the darkness his smile did not. You hoped you never had to see the serious man who stood before the cameras. 

“How’s Rita?” Aaron asks. He’s cut the top off his carrot cake, saving it for later. He looks at it longingly every now and then, then he scoops just a little bit of the cream cheese and lets it rest on his tongue.

“She’s good. Restless. She’s happy for the due date to arrive.” She’d also asked you to be the baby’s godparent. Rather forcefully, actually, it had felt a bit strange. That was the only reason you hadn’t jumped at the opportunity. You’d do anything for Rita, but saying yes in that instant would had felt strange. Almost… wrong, maybe.

Aaron knows you’re thinking about it. He puts his fork down and shifts in his chair, waiting for you to continue. He doesn’t fill the silence between the two of you. You think about telling him, but then Lola’s bustling through the door and grabbing her apron.

“Hot stuff, when can I go for a smoke break?” is the first thing Lola says to you. She pulls chewing gum out of her mouth (yes, pulls. She sticks her fingers in her mouth and pulls it out as far as it will go without snapping) and Aaron moves his cake around his plate a bit. Does he not like it? Don’t be silly, he asked for it. Requested it. Whatever. You put his three cookies into a plastic bag and slide it across the counter to him.

“Lola you only just came in.”

“But I want to know,” she whines like she’s a teenager with an after school job, not a thirty-five-year-old woman who works at the diner full time. “Hey, Rita’s been acting weird, right? Is that a pregnancy thing, or?” Lola rubbed her nose on the back of her wrist and sniffs. An action you’re all too familiar with by now, and of course she was doing illegal substances in the bathroom before she started her shift when there’s a legitimate federal agent in the diner.

 “Oh,” Lola says as she looks at Aaron. She looks at you, raises her eyebrows, and nods like she’s impressed. “I take back telling Rita she was a liar." Even without knowing the context of Rita and Lola's conversation, you know Rita had told Lola how pretty/handsome/gorgeous Aaron is. "I’m going to go clean some tables.”

She grabs the cleaning supplies and heads out into the dining area. The door swings open, banging against one of the booths, and you’re immensely glad Lola doesn’t scream 'watch it’ at them. A curly haired blonde woman (gorgeous, mind you) touches Aaron’s shoulder and he sits up straight, smiling, and your heart plummets a little bit. Just the tiniest amount. 

“Jack insisted we switch over here before I go to parent/teacher interviews.” As if on queue, a well mannered, sandy-haired boy sits next to Aaron and grins too much like Aaron. Aaron’s son. You can put two and two together. Profiler or not.

“How was school?” Aaron asks. Jack shrugs.

“It was school.” He learnt that from his dad, there’s no question. 

“Well, in that case. Jack, this is my friend Y/n. Y/n, this is Jack.” Jack extends a hand to shake in greeting and looks really shy about it. You shake it quickly so he doesn’t feel like a kid who’s been roped into doing adult things. There’s a pile of colouring-in pages Joe’s printed off at the local library beneath a cup of crayons that Jack’s eyeing off. 

You grab a sheet and a crayon, raising an eyebrow in invitation as you turn around to Jack. 

“Yes please,” he says, grin growing across his face. “Thank-you.”

“You’re welcome. Wonderful manners.” Jack grins even bigger and you think he, too, might combust just like his dad. Stardust! That’s the movie you were thinking of. When Yvaine sees Tristan she shines, literally, the star inside of her just can’t be contained. That’s Aaron and Jack, and the way they look when they smile. 

Aaron’s sister-in-law looks at you with a cocked head, like a curious cat. Like she’s waiting to pounce. But… curiously pounce. Like she's sussing you out. She extends a hand in greeting.

“Jess. Aaron’s talked about you.”

There’s no response but to look sheepish. This seems to greatly please Jess, who smiles softly and rubs the back of Aaron’s head affectionately. They have a long history together, it’s too familial to be just a relationship born through marriage. 

“I’ll see you later then, Rockstar,” Jess says.

“Bye,” Aaron and Jack say together. Aaron rests his cheek on his hand, watching you as Lola hands you three orders she’s taken while you’ve been talking to Aaron. Jack leans over and whispers to Aaron about his homework (it’s a whisper that belongs on a stage) as you wrestle with the coffee machine. 

It’s been grinding it’s way down to not working for a while now. Ever since you met Aaron, actually. Joe’s said he’s going to fix it, or get a new one, but everyone’s in a state of non-commital until Rita has her baby.You’ve got no idea why, it’s just the way things are. Good luck, maybe? Or luck in general? 

Somehow you get Aaron talking about Shakespeare. It might have been Jack’s doing, to be completely honest, but one moment you’re trying to make the froth… well, froth… and the next you're listening to Aaron talk animatedly about Othello. Jack's young enough to not think his Dad's passion is embarrassing. 

"Have you watched Othello?" Jack asks, a question that Aaron's neglected to ask you. "I'm not old enough to yet." 

"I haven't seen that one yet, but I've seen Much Ado About Nothing."

"Is that the one with the olive gardens?" Jack asks. Aaron frowns, eyes searching for the answer in that big beautiful minds tonight.

"Yes," he says finally. "That was the one with the olive trees."

Jack giggles. "There was kissing in that movie." 

"Lots of it," Aaron agrees. You're not sure you're talking about the same film, but it's cute to see the two of them interact. 

"With the guy who plays Lockhart in the second Harry Potter movie?" You ask. Jack laughs just like his father. It's all light and mirth. He nods in confirmation. 

"His name is Kenneth," Jack says like he's familiar with him. When Aaron smiles, you know Jack's his whole world.

It’s not long before Aaron realised he’d brought Jack in without asking if he wanted anything. The afternoon rush had died down, leaving you in the space between out-of-work and dinner. You make the most chocolate-y hot chocolate you can for Jack when Aaron says he can have one. Well, Jack says the best bit is the froth, so it’s more child-size-hot-chocolate-in-an-adult-mug-full-of-froth. Jack loves it. He slurps at the chocolate, which leaves a giant frothy mustache over his top lip that won’t go away no matter how much he licks at it.

When he’s done you let him come around to the kitchen to wash his face, because no amount of wet napkins is going to fix that mess. Jack can’t reach the sink, so you fashion a step out of old milk and bread crates. Joe gives him cake batter to taste before realising that he actually has no idea who Jack is. Aaron watches from the kitchen door with a smile on his face. You don’t catch it until Jack jumps off the crates and takes your hand, leading you back out. Aaron’s fingers brush your hand as you pass him. Electricity sparks between the two of you that's completely unavoidable. The two of you recoil involuntarily.

Aaron gives you a small smile of apology. You give exactly the same one back. Lola legitimately gasps like she too felt the electricity between the two of you. Surely that was just something that happened in movies? Or in books? That’s not a real thing, right? But Aaron brushes past you again, as if he’s making sure as well, and it’s there again. Only it’s like your whole arm becomes pins and needles, not just a quick lightning spark.

If it’s like that every time you’re with him, your not sure you could even go beyond lusting after him and giving him coffee and meals every now and then. Aaron drops his gaze, then follows Jack to the front of the counter. 

They stay for dinner (because Jack insists, he wants the nachos) but the rush comes early and there’s really not much time to talk to them, so you almost miss them leaving. Almost. You’re serving the angry couple at table three (are they angry at you, or each other? Who knows, you don’t, but they’re taking it out on you) when Jack taps your hip. 

He’s very patient as you finish the order (somehow you figure out what they want between the curse words) and bend down to him. He hands you a folded piece of paper.

“This is for you,” he says. “I did it.” You’re about to unfold it, but he insists that it belongs in your apron pocket until you can look at it with no rush. That’s a kid who knows what it’s like to have a very busy parent. So you tuck it away safely and mess with his hair, which makes him grin from ear to ear.

“See you later!” Jack yells as he runs to Aaron, who’s waving goodbye with a doggy bag full of Jack’s unfinished dinner.and his keys between his fingers. 

“I’ll see you later,” he mouths as the noise in the diner starts to rise. Without thinking you blow him a kiss, which he catches effortlessly and kisses the fist closed around it before slipping out. 

When you get to the kitchen Lola’s already in the midst of teasing you. 

“You like him,” she says with all the confidence in the world. There’s not point denying her, so you just nod. It’s met by a chorus of ‘ooo’s which, to be honest, you really didn’t need. It made the diner feel far too small.

When everything dies down you remember the paper Jack had given you. You wipe the milk and spaghetti sauce off the counter, then make sure it’s dry, and unfold Jack’s page. It’s the generic colouring page Joe’s printed out, but Jack’s tried to make the generic waitress look like you. Well, you if you had purple hair and green skin. It’s a start, you guess, there’s an apology from Aaron on the back. Makes it worth it.

You move a couple of postcards on the corkboard aside and put Jack’s picture there instead. Joe pretends not to notice, but when Lola goes out the back with one of her customers, Joe comes round the front and presses a finger to the page.

“Good kid,” Joe says. He nods a couple of times then turns to you. “You know he and his dad come as a package, right? You fuck up one, you fuck up both.” Joe’s first wife had three kids that weren’t biologically his. He’s still mad at himself for not taking the kids seriously and only turning up for their mom.

“I know,” you say. 

Joe strokes your cheek as he passes and kisses your forehead. It’s all the praise you need. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist (if you want to get added, just inbox me, and if I’ve missed you I am so sorry): @willowrose99 @genevievedarcygranger @maryosprinkle @kleff03 @yoshigguk @samanthareid06 @typical-leo @leilanixx

[raindancer2004]

A mate for Christmas? - Jane

Word Count: 1,901 Jane x Swan reader Oneshot Warnings: Fluff, Angst

Jane –

Demetri, Felix and the twins joined Aro and Marcus at the Cullen’s house for Christmas; Caius refusing to go as he knew the ‘Dog’ would be there. “Caius sends his apologies Carlisle, but he couldn’t join us for Christmas. He decided to stay back and keep things in order at the castle” “I understand Aro. We’re glad that you, Marcus and the guard would come” Carlisle replied.

Carlisle led them upstairs to where the rest of the family were waiting; including Y/N Swan, Bella’s sister.

Jane noticed her the moment he entered the room; Y/C hair, Y/C eyes and your scent hit her like no other had before ‘Blueberry and Vanilla’ She felt a pull towards her and a knowing smile from Marcus confirmed it; Y/N Swan was her mate.

The Cullens exchanged gifts and Y/N handed her a small gift neatly wrapped in blue wrapping paper with silver Stags “For you.” She took the gift and gave her a small smile; opening it revealed a quad of eyeshadows in various shades of blue and a second quad of eyeshadows in various shades of grey. “I know it’s not much, but I thought you may like them, especially as Alice mentioned you prefer darker colours to pastels” “Thank you Y/N” Jane thanked her and felt a warm feeling run through her although she was annoyed that fate had given her a human as a mate. She didn’t like humans.

Y/N tried talking to Jane, asking her about her life in Volterra, her gift, if she had a favourite time in history seeing as she had lived so long. Jane didn’t wish to talk to Y/N and she certainly didn’t want to get to know her. Y/N sensed Jane wasn’t in the mood for talking judging by the minimal / lack of responses she received and left the room.

Marcus was very disappointed in Jane and her behaviour and told her so once Y/N and Ness were out of earshot; he didn’t care who else heard him “You my dear are being rude and disrespectful to Y/N and I am extremely disappointed in you. She didn’t choose to be your mate any more than you chose to be hers. Fate made this decision long ago after you were turned. She was born to be with you and only you. She is the one to complete you and vice versa” Marcus paused to see if Jane would interject; she did nothing but look like a child being scolded so he continued “If you choose to walk away from her; from your bond, that is your decision and I will respect it but…know this you will have lost my respect. You are throwing something away; something that is precious and should be treasured because of your inability to let go of the past; a past Y/N had no part in. You are throwing away a bond that was taken from me many many centuries ago; a bond I would do anything to get back, to be given a second chance at a happy ending. I cannot and will not forgive you for this” Marcus left the room not caring that he left a room full of vampires staring open-mouthed at the dressing down the usually soft-spoken King had given Jane.

Jane didn’t change her mind. She decided she could live without Y/N in her life. She could live with being a disappointment to Marcus as long as she had Alec by her side and was still favoured by Aro. What more did she need?

Later that night Jane found Y/N in Edward’s old room; it had become a guest room now, something that amused Edward greatly. Jane knocked on the door and waited for Y/N to answer “Come in” Y/N’s soft voice called out and Jane entered the room “We need to talk” She said to Y/N getting straight to the point “Ok” Y/N replied as she sat on the bed and Jane did the same. “This isn’t going to work Y/N…the mate bond between us. It isn’t what I want. You are not what I want” “O-ok. So what happens now?” Y/N asked low, dread filling her as she knows she cannot remain human and know about their world. “Firstly, I want you to know that I won’t kill you, none of my family will. I trust you to keep our secret seeing as your sister is one of us” “Th-thank you Jane. I will take the secret to my grave. I promise” “Secondly, I am going to formally reject you and then we can move on with our lives as though this…little inconvenience never happened” Jane added turning to look at Y/N.

“I bet Y/N feels great being called an inconvenience” Felix said low “Imagine how she’ll feel in a few minutes once she’s been formally rejected” Demetri replied. Everyone could hear the conversation between Jane and Y/N due to their hearing and they all felt sorry for the human girl, including Alec.

“Look at me Y/N” Jane says coldly and Y/N lifts her head and meets Jane’s red eyes “I Jane Volturi do reject you Y/N Swan as my mate, from now until forever” Y/N felt something break inside her but didn’t tear her gaze away from Jane “You must now reject me in return for the bond to be severed completely” Y/N nodded and sat up a little straighter, taking a deep breath “I Y/N Swan do reject you Jane Volturi as my mate, from now until forever” Jane nodded and smiled at Y/N; happy she was no longer tied to the human girl.

Jasper felt everything during that conversation and his heart went out to Y/N “Hey you, do you want some company?” He asked softly entering the room “No, I would like to go home. Can you take please Jas?” “Of course I can, come on. Alice will bring your stuff by tomorrow” Jasper led her out of the house and over to his car. “I’m sorry you had to go through that” He said softly after a few moments “Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry you have to deal with my feelings, that can’t be very nice for you” Y/N replied softly “Don’t worry about me, I’ve felt much worse over the years.” Y/N nodded and they sat in silence for the remainder of the journey.

When the Volturi left on Boxing Day Jane left the gift behind that Y/N had given her and didn’t bother going to say goodbye. Demetri took it upon himself to reach out and find Y/N’s tenor; committing it to memory, just in case Jane changed her mind and wanted to him to track her mate down in the future.

Jane surprised everyone as it had been two months since she rejected her mate and she showed no signs of being heartbroken or depressed at being away from Y/N. Jane continued with her life at the castle and didn’t give Y/N a second thought, the same couldn’t be said for Alec however. He felt sorry for the human girl that his sister so cruelly rejected and wondered if she was doing as well as his sister.

Y/N wasn’t doing as well as Jane but did her best to hide it; it felt like something was missing, like she was incomplete. Although she had rejected Jane at her request Y/N didn’t mean it; she wanted to be with Jane and figured that may be the reason she feels this way and cannot move on like Jane had said. Y/N had stopped spending time with Bella and the Cullens as it was just too much of a reminder of what she will never have so she made the decision to move to Florida to live with her mom and Phil. “I need a fresh start Bells. I need to get away from here and we can stay in touch” Y/N hugged her sister and boarded her plane ready to start her life away from Forks, away from the vampire world.

“Demetri can you track Y/N for me?” Alec asked one night on the way back from a mission the two of them had gone on “I can but can I ask why you want me to?” Demetri replied “I’m just curious I guess…I want to know if she is taking the rejection as well as Jane” “Alec you know that I can only tell you where she is, I can’t tell you how she is” “I know that, but I can find out how she is if I know where she is” Alec said looking at the tracker “You plan on checking up on your sister’s rejected mate? Why?” “I don’t know Demetri, maybe because I’m struggling to understand how Marcus can be the way he is thousands of years after losing his wife and Jane seems totally unaffected after rejecting and being rejected by her mate” “I think you’ve already answered your own question Alec. However, I will tell you Y/N is in Jacksonville, Florida” Demetri replied “Thank you Demetri. Please do not tell Jane” “I don’t have a death wish so I won’t tell Jane you’ve gone to Florida if you don’t tell her I helped you track down Y/N” Demetri offered “Deal” Alec said as he shook Demetri’s hand.

Y/N had been in Jacksonville for a month and felt better than she had in a long time, moving here was definitely the right thing to do. Y/N had met a boy and they flirted with one another but it didn’t feel right to her; she kept thinking about Jane. ‘Why do I keep thinking about her, she didn’t want me. I wasn’t good enough for her, at least Matt likes me; talks to me’ she thought to herself and decided to let Jane go completely “I Y/N Swan do reject you Jane Volturi as my mate, from now until forever” She said aloud and she instantly felt like a weight had been lifted off her.

At that very moment in Volterra Jane felt something break inside of her and all of a sudden she felt lost; incomplete, like something was missing from her life and couldn’t understand why. She let out a gasp at the feeling. Marcus sat there on his throne giving her with a knowing look. Alec, Demetri and Felix were in the throne room on duty with her and upon hearing her gasp they turned to look at her “Sister what is the matter?” “It would appear Y/N has rejected Jane and now she is feeling the pain and the hurt she caused Y/N many months ago” Marcus answered with a smile “But master Y/N rejected Jane at Christmas” Alec said looking confused “Indeed she did, but only because Jane asked her to. Y/N didn’t mean it then, she didn’t want to reject Jane so Y/N’s side of the bond remained in place. Therefore, allowing Jane to carry on with her life without a care in the world” Alec nodded in understanding “However, it would seem that Y/N is finally ready to give up on Jane and their bond and has rejected her of her own free will. Thus, causing this reaction in Jane. Welcome to a forever of heartbreak and depression child. It really couldn’t have happened to a nicer person” Marcus said smiling at her, enjoying seeing her experience the consequences of her actions.

[damsel-loves-machines]

Being Donatello’s Girlfriend Headcanons

Author’s Note: I’ve been writing headcanons for a good while on my anime account, so I thought that I could try my hand on ROTTMNT!Donatello’s character for the time being. Before anyone asks, no I will not be taking requests, whether it be at the moment or at all because I feel like I would be stressed if I did. I just write whenever I feel inspiration. Thank you for your consideration and thank you for reading.

Atomic Lass who???

You caught his attention when he would go on one of his famous techno babbles and you never made the attempt to interrupt or ignore him.

Even when you didn’t understand a good portion of the diction that flew out of his reptilian mouth, Donatello greatly appreciates that you, at least, try to follow along and understand his passion.

You may or may not help him with his inventions by physically building it, but you were usually the first one to help him with gathering materials and throwing ideas into his head whenever he’s on Inventor’s Block.

Don’t think any of your ideas are stupid or unnecessary. This soft-shell turtle built a self-cleaning toothpick machine and a Anti-Turtle Ray. Anything is acceptable.

He considers you his own personal motivator.

Whenever Donnie ever feels down, and the words from his family don’t seem to work at the time, he would call on you. Whether search to you in person or just a simple phone call, the sound of your reassuring voice puts his mind at ease.

He has written lists on your likes, dislikes, hobbies, favorite things etc for research and invention purposes. It might seem concerning, but this shows how passionate he is of you and how he doesn’t want to screw anything up.

You’re his very first girlfriend and he doesn’t even want to think of the percentages of you leaving him. You have to sit him down, calm him, and explain that you aren’t going anywhere. Then suggests that you do something that HE wants to do and talk about what HE likes to do because a relationship works both ways.

You make sure he has a functional working, eating, and sleeping schedule because yes he has to go on night patrols and stuff with his brothers, but they shouldn’t be telling you that Donnie never left his lab outside of retrieving a cup of coffee several separate times since you left the other night.

You have to text/video chat him as confirmation that he is going to bed to actually sleep. You make sure that he keeps his promises because Shell-don has your back.

You can never have an at-home date in the lair.

Not that Donnie doesn’t want you there at his home because you are always welcomed there. Without question.

It’s his family that he doesn’t trust. They are embarrassing as hell.

Leo is the tease master, stating that this might be his alone chance of fulfilling his ‘embarrassing his brother in front of his crush’ goal he would always see on TV. He will even text Donnie romantic advice he found on the internet from the other room to both bug him and help him.

Raph would be the mom figure and barge into the date and ask if everything is ok and if “Do you kids need anything” every 5 minutes.

Mikey is the little sibling who would try to be included in the activities, oblivious to the fact that it was only suppose to be the two of you. (Think of the episode ‘Shell in the Cell’.)

Splinter has no shame and jokes about marriage and grandchildren with with that boisterous laughter of his.

Never again.

You know that when Donnie’s soft shell is clearly exposed to you, he trusts you with his life. So the day when you gave him his first massage had him believe in heaven for the first time in his scientific life span.

This was around sometime late at night from a long mission where the both of you were retiring for the night.

You noticed the aches in his shoulders and the occasional strained groan when he would rub his back. You offered some help in the form of a massage, eyes shining in hesitance when asking for permission because you were afraid of moving faster than Mr. I’m Afraid of Togetherness could take.

Donatello blinked for a second before agreeing and laid down onto his bed. He would recall his father soothing aches on his soft-shell with his warm-blooded, mammal hands when he was much younger, but Splinter had to be careful with his rodent nails from scratch the shell’s leathery skin.

You began at his shoulders before working on the back of his neck. Then, you slowly made your way toward the fragile shell of your boyfriend.

Donatello never fell asleep so fast in his life.

Your hands were so careful with handling pressure and so warm and soothing that it unintentionally lulled him into slumber.

Hopefully, you aren’t in a position to be trapped in his embrace when he does because if you are, you are not escaping.

Do you see his arms? Hope you’re comfortable because you might as well sleep right next to him. His snores mixed with his turtle chortles somehow put you to sleep as well, despite how loud they might be.

Put violet hearts emojis around your name in his phone.

You were his self-appointed cheerleader during the Lair Games and cheered loudly when he won.

Whenever Donnie would do something really stupid or kinda mean, his brothers would threaten to tattle on you. You’re his impulse control and the others will keep reminding him of that til the end of time.

It works damn near every time and he hates that it does.

Donnie: *does something dangerously chaotic*

The turtles (most likely Raph): “Stop it or we’re telling Y/N.”

Donnie: *reluctantly stops with a glare*

Donatello would feel so starstruck if you managed to perform or solve something with knowledge you learned from him.

You adjusted an error on one of his gadgets to get it working again? You fought a villain with his tech-bo or some kind of staffed weapon in the environment and are owning the villain’s ass? 

He’s ready to marry you.

You might as well give him your ring size. He’s gonna try and find out sooner or later.

[tinisprout]

Serendipity on a lonely night

Pairing: Jacob x gn!Reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt and Comfort, Fluff

Word count: 3,547

Warnings: mention of blood (once), some cursing, lmk if I missed something

Summary: After a bad breakup, two sad souls decided to go to a park to cry alone. Neither of them expects someone to intrude on their moment. Although they are strangers, they might make this depressing night just a little less lonely for each other.

Being cheated on sucks, but it hurt him a little bit more to find out on his birthday of all days. Jacob thought they were just going through a rough patch in their relationship, he truly thought they would make it out ok. Never did he expect to see his now ex making out with someone else. Angry and hurt, he didn't bother saying much to them and left. Going back to his apartment, he changes into his workout clothes and stuffs a handful of tissues into his jacket pocket as he leaves his house to go for a night run.

He ran as fast as he could, with abandon, looking like a mad man. He was so frustrated he just wanted to forget it all and move on. He knew he didn't need to keep a person like that in his life, but that didn't make it hurt any less. He went to the one place he thought no one would be at, the park. The man tried to slow his pace as his body came barreling at the bench, he threw his hands out to brace himself.

The impact hurt, but this new pain was a welcomed distraction. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. He felt the need to vomit and so he crawled to the bush to do just that. He regrets not eating earlier as he retched up bile, burning his throat an egregious amount. Then came the booming sound of footsteps slamming on the ground from behind. Jacob hoped no one would come here he wanted to be a mess in peace, but to hell with it, he'll just leave after he finishes dry heaving, he thought.

Being cheated on fucking sucks, period. You didn't expect anyone to here and to your surprise there seemed to be a drunk man throwing up in the bushes. Maybe going out at night wasn't the best choice, but in the heat of the moment you wanted to cry alone, but it seems that wasn't in the cards. As your attention was diverted you tripped on absolutely nothing and your knees were the first to hit the ground, skidding on the pavement. Regretting wearing shorts, you propped your arms out ready to catch the rest of your body.

On your hands and knees, you were winded from running, your shoulders rose and fell rapidly. "Son of a bitch, that hurt." You bit your lip trying to hold it in this was not the place to cry, someone was here. You sat on the ground sick of it all, to hell with it, you were tired of holding back and used the pain in your knees as an excuse to cry your eyes out. Like a stream they came pouring out your eyes, changing the color of the ground.

"Um, are you okay?" 'Huh, is the drunk man trying to talk to me? He doesn't sound drunk,' you thought to yourself. Looking up at him without wiping your still falling tears.

"No," you continued to cry and you hoped that would be the end of the conversation. To your shock he offered you a tissue from his pocket and sat down, it seems he also started crying. Well, at least this man wasn't a threat. And so, you both cried not caring about the presence of the other. Both cries coming to a still as time passed, you both just sat there in silence for some time.

'This is embarrassing,' Jacob thought. When he saw the person in front of him crying, he didn't expect them to give a blunt answer when he asked if they were okay. Crying without a care, he wanted to do that, he was so tired of holding it in. Well, it happened already, there is nothing he can do about it. It seems the person in front of him was also thinking about how to get out of this awkward situation. "Why were you crying?" Yes, break the awkward atmosphere with an awkward question.

"I feel like that should be my question," you state, making a face.

"Oh well, I already wanted to cry and see you cry it kinda just happened."

"Well, I just got dumped after finding out I was cheated on, all on call. I didn’t believe them, thinking it was some cruel joke. So they send me a picture of them kissing someone else. I came here to cry my guts out, I didn't expect anyone else here."

"What a coincidence, me too. I caught my partner making out with someone else, told me they didn't love me anymore, on my birthday of all days. I ran here to get some fresh air and cry, but I guess I pushed myself too hard and ended up throwing up." He laughs at how pathetic he sounds. He notices you check your phone. 'I guess they want to leave,' he thinks while sighing to himself.

"I'm sorry that happened to you. Um, sorry if this is weird since it not happy anymore, but, happy birthday." The unexpected response made Jacob look at you, mouth slightly agape in surprise. Then he laughed, the look you made wondering if you might have said something wrong. His smile was captivating, the kind that most would do anything to see again. Who in their right mind would cheat on this man?!

Birthday wishes from a stranger at this moment felt nice. Jacob got up from the ground dusting himself off. He offered you a hand, "Thank you, I feel a little better now." You weren't sure why he laughed, but if he was feeling better that was good, he seemed to be having a shitty day. You take his hand as he pulls you up, as your knees bend you groan in pain.

"Crap, my knees." You looked down addressing the pain, there was dust mixed in with the blood. Judging on how you hit the floor, your knees we definitely bruised or at least were going to be later.

"Oh no, are you okay?"

"No," you chuckled at him asking the same question and you giving the same answer. The corner of his lips tugged up when he realized the same thing, he wanted to laugh, but his concern for the stranger took greater priority. Getting a closer look at it, it looked pretty bad.

"Can you walk?"

"Of course,... I just need to push myself." Jacob looked up and searched for the convenience store he knew was around here.

"Hey, you should get this cleaned up soon. There is a convenience store right over there, I can help you if you're ok with that."

"You know what, that would be greatly appreciated, thank you." He bent down a little so you could easily put your arm around his neck. The man supporting you relieved some of the pressure. With his help, you hobbled your way to the convenience store. Finally arriving he tells you to wait at the front of the store while he gets everything, saying it was on him as a thank you. It didn't make too much sense, but you weren't about to argue, so you took a seat at one of the free tables.

He quickly rushed through the store to get big bandages, two water bottles, Neosporin, and a small bottle of mouthwash. He wanted to talk to them earlier, but they were a lot closer and he knew his breath must have smelt rancid after throwing up. After paying, he quickly went to the bathroom and washed his mouth out with the water and mouthwash. Throwing away the evidence as he did a breath check, grabbing a few paper towels before he ran back to you.

"Okay, I'm done, sorry for the wait." You see him carrying a bag with a few things inside.

"You're good, a break from walking is fine with me," you offer up a smile and he smiles back.

"This is probably gonna hurt some, but I'll try to be as gentle as possible." Your smile fades as he gets down on his knees to meet your legs and you clench your jaw. He wet two paper towels and left two dry ones asking you to hold both sets. "Stick one of your legs out, please." Doing as you're told, he takes this opportunity to lift your leg till it's about parallel to your seat. He pours water on the wound and you jolt at the sensation as it stings your knees. Some water slides down your leg and he wipes it back up with his hand and flicks the water off his hand. "Wet paper towel please."

"Huh," you were absorbed by the movement of his hands on your leg, weird. "Oh yeah, here." He glanced at you for a moment, but he didn't question it. Setting your leg down he takes the wet paper towel and gently wipes away at the remaining grime on your knee.

"Dry one, please." 'So polite,' you thought, handing him the paper towel. He dries your wound and leg off, tossing the waste into the bag and he takes out the Neosporin and bandages. He smears the ointment on the cotton pad of the bandage, then smooths the bandage onto your leg. You two repeat the process on your other leg. "All done."

"Thank you." You slowly stand up, it still hurts for sure, you wanted to do something. "Alright, your turn buddy. You stay here I'm going to get something real quick."

"Huh, you don't need help?" He sees you struggling to walk and has his hands up ready to catch you if you fall.

"I'll be fine, just give me a minute." He doesn't push it and takes the seat next to your now empty one. He wonders what you could be doing. A few minutes pass and he hears your familiar voice. Turning to you he sees you now carry a bag. You see his eyes linger around the bag. You clear your throat, "I need you to close your eyes, you can't open them until I say." Jacob is a simple man and does not question them and follows through with the orders. He covers his eyes with his hands. "Oh yeah, I didn't get your name yet. I'm, y/n." He smiles at your statement.

"I'm, Jacob."

"Alright, you can open your eyes now." He puts his hands down opening his eyes and to his bewilderment there are two cupcakes each with a lit candle. His lips form a little pout and his eye go wide as he looks at you. "Happy Birthday, Jacob. This might be the crappiest birthday you've ever had, but I hope this makes it a little bit better."

"Wow, thank you…" Jacob was at a loss for words. There were a lot of emotions coming up again, he felt his throat go a little tight.

"Ah sorry, I shouldn't have brought up the bad things."

"No it's not that...well it partly is that, but I'm also happy. Why are you so kind to me?" That seemed like a weird question, is this not the golden rule?

"Well as thanks, of course. And I think you are being nicer to me than I am to you. Anyways, before your candles completely melt, make a wish!"

"Ah let me think," A wish, there wasn't any particular thing he wished for. His eyes wandered around trying to think of something and his eyes find their way back to you. The soft glow of the candlelight illuminating your face. A smile gracing your face as you wait for him to make his wish. He looks back to the candles and closes his eyes, 'I wish for something wonderful.' opening his eyes he gently blows out the candles. You found yourself hoping Jacob’s wish would come true.

“Perfect, now I didn’t know what flavor you liked, so I just got the standard vanilla and chocolate. Hope that’s okay.”

“That’s fine,” he says taking one of the cupcakes and pushing the other towards you.

“I can’t they’re yours.”

“It’s fine I shouldn’t eat two cupcakes this late at night anyway. Unless you don’t like that flavor?”

“Oh, it’s good. Uh, thank you then.” You both take your time eating your cupcakes while continuing to converse with each other. Taking his last bite he licks his fingers clean and you hand him a napkin from your bag.

“Thanks,” After he wipes his hands he stood up. “Can you walk okay, now?” You stood up carefully. It still hurts, but you felt like walking wouldn’t be too terrible, maybe.

“Yeah, I think I will be good, thank you.” You stagger your way back to the sidewalk and Jacob matches his pace with yours.

“Well, I go this way.”

“Oh, me too.” A smile alights both your faces, happy to stay with the kind soul next to you for a little longer before the loneliness grabs hold of you again.

“In that case do you still want my help walking?”

“Are you okay with that?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jacob sets out in front with his back facing you, he kneels on the ground, turning his head to you.

“Won’t that be too tiring for you?

“My endurance is pretty good, besides we can get home faster this way, it’s pretty late already. It will only be till we part ways.” Maybe you would have been more hesitant if he didn’t always make sure you were comfortable when talking and interacting with him, keeping a respectable distance that strangers should have.

“Excuse me then.” As you climb on his back he links his arms under your legs as you wrap your arms around his neck and he slowly rises.

“Up we go.” he adjusts, bouncing you up higher on his back. He started walking, and like a gentleman, making sure you weren’t suspicious of him, he tells you which path he takes first before continuing to walk. To both your surprise, your time together lasted longer than imagined. You thought how he might live past you as you got closer to your home.

“Hey, I know we are still kinda strangers, but if it means anything, I think you are really kind. I was treated nicer by you in this short hour or so that we have known each other than I was ever by my ex. I won’t judge your relationship because I don’t know anything, but I think you deserve better. I hope you can move on soon and when your ready, find someone that values you properly.” Jacob lets out a titter at your words.

“Man, I feel like crying again.”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I hope the same for you, don’t feel down over someone that left you like that.”

“Ugh, of course! I’m not that sad to lose them, we weren’t dating for that long. I know that kind of person doesn’t deserve to be in my life… I’m sadder at the fact that it happened, it makes me feel inadequate.”

“Hey, don’t say that. Just like you said to me, I think you deserve a person that values you better.”

“Thanks.” He stops in his tracks again.

“I go straight.” To your disappointment, this is where your journey together ends.

“Ah, I go right.”

“Oh,” is all he gives as a reply. Jacob lowers himself letting go of his grip on your legs. Your hands move from around his neck to hold his shoulders as you steady yourself. When you let go of his shoulders he turns around to meet your eyes. “I guess this is goodbye.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Neither of you wanted to part ways yet, but what could you do? You both thought, this person would be a good friend to have, would it be too much to ask for their number?

“I’ll go first. Please be careful on your way home,” Jacob says, cutting off the awkward silence.

“You too. Thank you, for making this night a little less lonely,” you give him a sorrowful smile and he returns a look just the same.

“Thank you.” And so you both go your separate ways. He finds himself regretting not asking for your number, but it would be weird to go back now, if only he had a second chance. If he had another wish right now, he would have wished to see them again, not that it would have actually helped him anyway.

Finally making it to your apartment building you call the elevator sighing. You find yourself thinking about Jacob as you look at your knees, ‘I should have gotten his number.’ The elevator dings and the doors open up. Someone leaves the elevator and you take their place.

Jacob walks into his apartment building, and sees a person leaving then sees the foot of a person entering the elevator. He calls out to them.

“Please hold the door!” He starts jogging to the elevator. Hearing that familiar voice seems unbelievable. So you move to stick your head out to check to make sure you weren’t mistaken.

“Jac-” you didn’t expect a body to round the corner so fast and you reacted as best you could and tried stepping back, but their body still hit you, though it was with less force than you expected. Cool you thought, you were gonna fall for the second time tonight. The man that bumped into you didn’t think the person inside would try to come out so he had little time to try and stop his momentum and despite his efforts, he collided with the other. Not wanting to fall you reach your arms up and out to the person getting a death grip on their shoulders. The man lunges forward reaching out to catch the falling body, wrapping his arms around the person’s waist. There is a pause as Jacob gets a good look at the person in his arms. When he rounded the corner it was fast, but for a hot second, he thought that person looked like, y/n. He was right, they were staring at each other, hearts pounding in fright. Jacob was the first to open his mouth.

“Hey,” he offers up an awkward smile. You bite your top lip to keep from laughing. The elevator door closes.

“Hey.”

“You live here? You ask at the same time. This brought genuine smiles to your faces.

“Yeah, uh how did you get here before me?” He asks, stepping back to give you room to stand straight again. You loosen your grip on his shoulders letting your arms fall back to your sides. He lets go of you as well taking a step back.

“I took a shortcut. Do you not know about it?”

“No? Im new here, still getting used to this area, so I haven’t really explored around,” you hum in response. He goes to press his floor number and steps aside so you can do the same. You look at the panel of buttons and see your floor number is pressed. The elevator starts rising.

“I think we are neighbors.”

“Really?”

“Yup, same floor.”

“Huh, small world.”

“Guess it is.” Ah, it was awkward again. Maybe you both felt that way cause you were just thinking about each other, not like the other person knew that though. The elevator came to a stop opening to your floor. You stepped out first and Jacob followed. Pointing one way you give him a questioning look and he nods. You walk together in silence thinking how now would be the perfect time to ask for their number, but they’ve been silent this whole time maybe they don’t want to talk right now? Both of your minds hesitant to speak first. Jacob stops first.

“This is my door.” You look at the number on the door that is two off from your door number. Then that means.

“I’m the next door down. I didn’t know I had a new neighbor.” That wasn’t something you bothered paying attention to.

“From strangers to neighbors. Nice to meet you,” he jokes, smiling. You smile back.

“Nice to meet you too.”

“y/n, you seem like a really great person. If it’s ok with you, can I get your number? I think we would be good friends.” That should have been your line, you step closer to him, confessing.

“I actually wanted to ask you the same thing.” The two of you pull out your phones opening up contacts and exchanging phones, putting your info into the other’s phone. Taking back your phones, you take a step back. “Until next time.”

“Until then.” You turn around and start walking to your door. Jacob happily punches in his pin code. And steps into the door, but there was something else he wanted to say, so he poked his head out and saw you opening your door. “y/n,” you turn your head to look at the voice calling you. “Thank you, for making this night less lonely.” You smiled at the familiar words. “That’s it, good night, y/n.”

“Good night, Jacob.” The two of you heading into your respective homes with a tender smile. Hoping to see the other more often.

taglist: @taegurl-ne

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Don’t Feed The Flames - Bucky Barnes x (f)reader, Natasha x platonic (f) reader

Summary: Bucky has made you angry after a tough mission with the crew, why you ask? Apparently he thinks it’s totally fine to run inside a burning building to help you complete the mission in question. 

Warning: bit of angst, mostly a good time with the team, Bucky fluff shoved in ur welcome

-reader has fire powers btw, I don’t wanna confuse anyone lol

Masterlist

The mission was difficult to say the least, successful in its own right, but tough for everyone involved. All the Avengers were needed for this clusterfuck of a mission, minus Bruce and Thor who are elsewhere in the universe, lucky them.

All the team needed to do was infiltrated one of the last highly armed Hydra bases left in existence, get rid of the artillery and boom, slither right on in. Objective? Snatch valuable intel as to where the other bases are hiding, and surprise surprise, you and Wanda had to take care of some very pissed off experimentees who were unfortunately brainwashed beyond the point of helping them recover.

Ending the night in everyone quickly evacuating the premise with the essentials while you stayed back to blow up the base to nothing more then bricks and ash. Although during this, Bucky stayed back to shoot some freelancers who tried to take you the fuck out, with what would you know it; flame throwers.

Apparently Hydra is greatly lacking in weapons and functioning brain cells, among other things. Granted, you understood Bucky’s concern for your well-being when he ran into the fire. But oh dear lord were you not happy with him one goddamn bit.

Luckily Sam was able to pluck him out before anything fell on your idiot boyfriend while you were producing mass destruction in the giant airplane storage area. In the aftermath, you came out unharmed but covered in smudge marks and burnt off cloves yet again.

Bucky? Well he came away with a pissed off girlfriend and his life to say the least. And let’s just say the long four hour ride back was a tad bit awkward, even if you were too damn exhausted to show your irritation with Bucky. The team sure as hell knew he wasn’t going to be spared of your wrath when the jet landed.

It took approximately ten seconds for your man to shuffle out of your line of sight, using Steve as a shield to hide behind while they walked out. You had been distracted when Natasha asked for something picked up, then suddenly your mind was on Bucky. A moment later you stomped out of the Quinjet in pursuit of the one and only James Buchanan Barnes as he awaited your fury.

“James!” You growl fiercely, “You are the most fucking reckless person I’ve ever fucking met and I’m literally friends with Tony!” You snap while the rest of your teammates go about their business, trying to listen yet smartly staying out of everything.

“I know.” Mutters Bucky like a kicked puppy suffering his mother’s wrath, blue eyes looking at you with regret clearly visible on his handsome face.

“You know! You know!? Then why the fuck would you just run into the flames like that!” You shout while throwing your arms into the air in frustration, “You’re not fire proof Bucky!”

“Y/N...”

“Do you have a goddamn death wish!?” You interrupt, giving him a dumbfounded look as he glances from Steve to the floor then back to you again, trying to find something or someone with enough pity to help him. 

He finds none, “Well....no.” Your brows raise yet again at his short and annoyingly blunt answers to make up for his stupidly daring boldness. 

“Then why-ugh, whatever never mind.” You dismiss with a wave of your hand before quickly turning on your heels to walk for the metal doors into the main part of the facility, while the others keep their distance from your heated state.

“Wait Y/N, come back I’m sorry!” Exclaims Bucky desperately while you continue to ignore your reckless man, “You’re right I shouldn’t have....ugh...come on babe....shit...” Mutters Bucky as he watches you leave him in such a heated state.

“Dude just let her cool off, oh uh well....no pun intended.” Jokes Sam with a shrug as Bucky watches you stomp away in frustration, your body almost sizzling with actual flame.

“I didn’t mean to....well...ugh, shit I guess I kind of did.” Admits Bucky with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as you slam the door shut with a loud thud, “Sometimes I forget fire can’t hurt her. I should have just let her handle the burning building herself instead of going inside when she uh, told me not to.”

Steve walks out of the Quinjet with a bag in hand to greet the two, “Y/N seemed a bit...”

“Pissed off.” Adds Sam with a light chuckle as Bucky frowns at the giant glass window.

“Yeah.” Mutters Steve awkwardly as he side eyes Bucky, “Well ugh, see you guys at dinner, I think Wanda and Vision are getting takeout from somewhere.”

“See ya Steve.”

“Bye.”

Sam and Bucky watch as Steve heads for the metal doors, soon he’s gone and the two are the only Avengers left in the giant parking garage of sorts.

“She’s going to hate me for the rest of the day I know it.” Sadly mutters Bucky, already missing your beautiful face no matter what state your in.

“I wouldn’t say it’s hate.”

“She’s going to be very disappointed in me then.”

“Yeah probably.”

Bucky gives him an offended look, “You’re supposed to say something uplifting or positive.”

“Man don’t look at me for relationship advice. This is Y/N we’re talking about, just give her a couple hours she’ll simmer down.” Inquirers Sam with a friendly pat on the back before he starts walking away for the door, as casually and unbothered as ever.

Bucky keeps silent for a moment while his mind swims with what to do next, suddenly he looks up at his retreating friend, “Hey Sam!” Shouts Bucky just as Sam opens up the door, causing him to stop and give his friend a quizzical look.

“What?!”

“Fuck you!”

Sam immediately snorts, “You brought this upon yourself brother!” And with that he shuts the door leaving Bucky alone and full of regret for putting himself in danger today when you specifically told him you could handle yourself.

Why is caring for someone so hard, wonders Bucky.

——

After taking a greatly needed shower and putting on a fresh new pair of comfortable clothing for the evening, you slipped past your friends rooms and away from where Bucky may be hiding.

Until at last you made it to Natasha’s door without being caught by anyone in the hallway and stopped for a needless conversation. Soon enough you slip into Nat’s room and saunter around for a bit as you wait for her to end her shower.

“Oh shit!” Gasps Natasha as soon as she opens the door and notices you poking around her stuff, “Jesus Y/N how’d you get in here!?”

“I opened the door.”

“I thought I locked it?”

“You did.”

Natasha gives you a puzzled look as you wander over to her nightstand, nonchalantly minding your business while picking up her current novel as she watches you curiously, “So uh, how’s it going?” She asks cautiously, well aware of your irritation with Bucky earlier that day.

Flipping through the pages you answer her honestly, “I’m fine now.”

Natasha nods before turning around to search through her drawers for an outfit, “I figured that much, considering if you were still pissed you’d be throwing fireballs into the cement wall downstairs.” She quips with her usual smirk as you gently close the book and set it back in its rightful place.

“That is.....true.” You agree with a shrug, “I’m just sending a message at this point.”

“Oh really?” Laughs Natasha while slipping on a shirt, “Poor Bucky then.”

“Yeah well he was being an idiot tough guy so....it’s what I’m doing.” You add with a lopsided smug grin, “Serves him right for being reckless with no regard for his physical safety. I love him but at what cost?”

“Someone needs to tell Steve that.” Mutters Natasha as she pulls on some sweatpants.

You chuckle, “What? That someone needs to tell Steve they love him? Not a bad idea.”

“That too.” Points Natasha, “I seriously don’t know how he’s not dead yet.”

Your brows furrow in thought for a moment, “He’s built like a stone sentinel with a will greater then many, he fears nothing.” You deadpan, face stoic and serious.

“Just about.” Laughs Natasha as you begin to cackle right along with her, in the middle of your laughing fit does the door suddenly burst open to reveal...

“Hello ladies.” Chirps Tony with an award winning smile, usual old T-shirt on and hair a bit of a mess though somehow managing to keep his Stark charm.

“I really need to get an automatic lock on that thing.” Mutters Nat to no one in particular.

“What’s up Stark.” You add with an acknowledging tilt of your head, “You here to bother us or tell us something interesting?”

“Everything I say is interesting my dear sparky.” Quips Tony with a brow wiggle.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Right, anyways. Foods here.” Chides Tony as he sets a hand on his hip, “Unless you’re both too cool for movie night. More for us then, I’ll have Vision drop off our half eaten tacos.”

“We have tacos?” You ask with an intrigued raise of your brow, just wanting to confirm and make sure he’s not bluffing, you fucking love taco night.

“Yep.”

“How long have they been here?”

“Wanda and Vis just arrived so you’re the first two I found.” Oh, fuck yeah!

Turning your head to a smirking Natasha you smile back before bolting for the door, “Move Stark!” You snap before shoving him to the side and cackling as you and Natasha book it down the hall with Tony trying to keep up in the background. What can you say, Natasha always makes it a competition and its taco night. Sometimes you gotta play dirty.

Soon you and your assassin best friend who you tripped up before reaching the door finally skid into the Avengers giant lounging area. The room is relatively empty with the exception of Wanda and Vision who are seated at the large metal table near the kitchen where all the various paper bags of tacos are seated. And ripe for the taking.

Smelling absolutely delicious all tucked snug in their wrapping and filled with the most divine ingredients, you could just about die of happiness. With a beaming smile upon your face and the surprised expressions from your two friends you belt out loudly, “Tacos FUCK YEAH!” Before racing for the bags and getting tripped by Natasha.

Whipping your head up to watch her snatch a bag you growl half angrily, “You bitch.” While she happily smiles back down at you, taco in hand.

“What are you doing on the floor? Foods here.” She jokes as you quickly walk over to the counter with all the bags.

“Ha ha, you’re hilarious now give me that.”

After about ten minutes of eating and shooting the breeze with Natasha, Wanda, Vision, and Tony; you’re ears immediately catch the sounds of thundered running down the hallway and other muffled curses from two familiar individuals.

“Fun’s arrived.” Whispers Natasha with a friendly nudge to your arm as it lays on the flat surface of the table while you absentmindedly crumple up a wrapper.

Biting your lip you anticipate the impending commotion, “Fantastic.” And this whole evening could be more enjoyable if your hundred year old boyfriend would have used some common sense.

A second later the door swings open to reveal a panting Sam before Bucky slides in after him, equally as flustered, those two idiots. As they stand there collecting their breaths, Steve casually steps into the room, walking past them and over to the bags of tacos, “Aw sweet, taco night.” He confirms excitedly, hungrily eyeing up a particular bag.

Rolling your eyes, you slouch carelessly into your expensive swivel chair before turning to Wanda who’s seated across from you, “Hey, Red Riding Hood, you’re up.” She turns her attention away from Vision and nods before giving you a sly smirk and using her power to send a balled up piece of taco wrapping straight for your head.

In one calculably swift motion do you incinerate the paper material before its able to reach your face, “Y/N you’re going to set the fire detectors off.” Laughs Tony as he crumbles up a new ball.

“Eh, we could afford a renovation.”

Tony fake scoffs, “Rude.”

“Well Y/N, I thought you did great.” Applauds Wanda with a chuckle as the three other men walk around to the far end where no one is seated, “Alright Tony you next.”

You refrain from making any eye contact with Bucky who steals a few longing glances at your smiling face, instead he follows Sam and Steve to the opposite end and watches as you quickly turn another balled up paper to ash. The sounds of your laughter and the rest of the tables almost enough to drive him insane.

Yet he refrains, Bucky knows he’s essentially in time out, reason for almost getting himself killed today; and you’re not breaking anytime soon, or so he thinks.

Ignoring the three boys hungrily attacking their poor tacos away from the main groups theatrics, Vision suddenly gains your attention, “Well I suppose I should participate with this game or fear feeling left out....uh, what is the objective? Or perhaps the name?”

“They throw wrappers at me and I set them on fire before it hits myself or the ground.” You reply while crumbling up another piece, leaving Vision to process the possible deeper meaning to your brief explanation, though there really isn’t one. It’s just for fun.

“By the way I’ve been able to get her exactly once.” Brags Tony with a shit eating grin, causing you to scoff at that memory. 

“Oh fuck all the way off you flicked water into my face and then threw the paper.”

“And it was very much worth it.” He confirms as you roll your eyes at his cheating from last taco night.

The rest of your friends fill the room with snickers and some louder laughter coming from Sam down at the far end, with a raised brow you snap your head in that direction and stand, “Something funny bird boy?” You quip in a half threatening manner.

Sam’s smirk immediately drops from his face as his expression appears nonchalant, “What nooo. That was Steve.” He mutters before taking another bite out of his taco.

“Y/N that was definitely not me.”

“Uh huh.”

“Maybe it was Bucky.” Jokes Sam as you shift your fiery attention over to a fearful Bucky who quickly shakes his head before smacking Sam on the arm.

“No.” You confirm with a knowing smirk, “He doesn’t have a death wish.”

“Well neither do I please have mercy.” Pleads Sam with hands raised in defeat, “I would like to finish my taco.”

You stare down at them for a brief tension filled moment before casually shrugging, “Yeah alright.” Before sitting back down again.

——

Opening up the trash can you quickly shove down three giant paper bags from dinner with a bit of effort considering how full it is. Natasha and Vision are cleaning up in various areas nearby while Sam, Bucky, Natasha, Steve, and Tony sit in the lounging area discussing if it was necessary that Dobby was killed off in the Deathly Hallows. You know, normal things you discuss with your superpowered friends.

Well Bucky is mostly just listening and stealing glances over to you every couple of minutes, really wishing you would just walk over to him and let him show you how sorry he was with the biggest hug he could possibly muster. Probably never letting you go again, though you wouldn’t mind.

Ignoring your own longing to be cuddled up next to Bucky, you instead fight with the damn trash can to fucking shut its dumb lid already. With one hand forcefully shoving down bags, paper plates, and banana peels you start to think if volunteering for clean up was even worth it.

A blue flame suddenly erupts from your palm and makes a big black hole through the paper bags and plates, your eyes go wide in surprise as you immediately retract your hand from the trash and shut the lid just as quickly.

Taking a single step back you let out a breath before turning your head to find Bucky watching your whole ordeal go down with a drink in hand, guess he must have gotten up to get some juice and stayed for your one on one brawl with the trash can. Rolling your eyes, you wave it off, “Completely under control.” You mutter as he slowly nods.

Well this is awkward.

Shifting your gaze from Bucky to your friends and back to Bucky again, he finally speaks, “Is that why the lid has smoke coming from under it?”

“What?” You wonder in puzzlement before looking back down at the trash can to find smoke indeed rising, “Oh fuck!” Ripping the lid off you’re kindly greeted with a burst of flame and smoke. Well, shit.

“Uh, Y/N?” Asks Bucky with an uncertain chuckle, “You’re positive everything is under control?” Quips your smartass boyfriend.

With more flames rising to an almost alarming level, though not quit yet, you glance at your oblivious friends before racing for the sink, “Yes! Everything is fucking fine!” Wanda skips to the side as you snatch a cup of something from the counter by the sink.

Running back you skid in your tracks and dump the clear liquid onto the flames which causes them to rise even higher and gain the attentions of everyone sitting down and relaxing, “Why is my trash can on fire?” Asks Tony as casually as ever.

“I don’t know maybe it looks better this way?!” You sass before giving the glass a double take, “The hell? What the fuck was in this!” You shout, holding up the glass while fire burns in the trash from behind you.

“Oh that had some Quinjet fuel in it, why do you ask?” Replies Tony, he’s gotta be fucking with you.

Squinting at him in bewilderment, you shake the empty glass in frustration, “Why the fuck would there be a random glass of fuel sitting in a clear unlabeled glass on the fucking sink of all places!”

“What did you think it was?”

“Oh I don’t know!? Water?!” You snap causing the fire to roar even higher at your outburst.

Looking almost like a demon princess standing there with flames rising from behind you, your fists ball up with blue flame, something that you don’t even realize is happening as you give Tony a (what the fuck are you actually stupid) face.

Sensing your obvious irritation and rising anger, Bucky comes to the rescue with a whole bowl full of actual water and promptly dumbs it onto the flames which causes the unless materials to sizzle and whine. Soon the oranges and reds are gone, leaving the contents turned to ash and nothing more then wet soot.

Distinguishing your own flames, you hang your head low, revealing a tired heavy sigh as you mumble, “Shit.” Suddenly you feel admittedly quit drained and annoyed from the events of the day, even if they weren’t all bad.

Your friends keep silent for a moment before Steve quickly stands, “Movie night anyone?” Gaining the attention of everyone in an instant; you bless the blonde for his intuitive ways of helping you out in the smallest of moments. He truly is a great friend.

“Yeah I could watch something.” Adds Sam with a shrug, “I’m thinking Deathly Hallows Part 2.”

“Yeah it’s pretty good I’ll join.”

“Me too.”

“Yeah I’m in.”

Everyone get up and begins walking for the door as you stay standing in your spot near the wet and ash covered metal trash can, everyone exiting for the home theater except for Bucky who’s back is to you while he tells Sam you’ll be there in a minute.

Folding your arms, you suddenly feel like it’s the first time you and Bucky have ever talked one on one with each other, you’re typically a pretty damn confident and fiery person to begin with, it’s just. Being mad at your favorite human in the whole entire world and then embarrassing yourself with accidentally setting the trash can on fire can take its toll.

Also not to mention the mission many hours ago was admittedly hectic and stress inducing and then, Bucky....perhaps a moment to calm down would have been smart if taken earlier. God your life moves to damn fast.

“You are so intense sometimes.”

Breaking out of your self reflective trance, your eyes quickly dart up to see Bucky who’s giving you a soft smile, “If you wanted my attention you could have just asked.”

“Very funny.” You scoff, “I was actually too busy being mad at you.”

“Ah, right.” Nods Bucky as he mirrors your defensive positioning, deciding to cross his arms and make a pouty face like yourself, “So I guess we’ll just stay here and brood then?”

“I’m trying to make a point.” You mutter, you’re not gonna crack, you’re not gonna do it.

“I’m trying to get my girlfriend to watch a movie with me.” Admits Bucky with an affectionate head tilt as you frown, “I know they’re not going to wait for us so....uh....okay let me start over.....I’m sorry for being reckless and almost dying. And I mean it too, with all of my heart. I love you Y/N.”

Although you’d like to throw his dumb reckless ass some sass and strut away leaving him guessing and begging for more, you just can’t find it in you at this point. He looks at you with those big beautiful blue eyes full of love and adoration for you and only you, how could you possibly resist them?

You know with every ounce of your soul that he means every single word, and you also know that he’s missed you since the second you yelled at him and slammed the facility door, leaving him alone and regretting his past decisions that could have potentially ended him then and there.

“Sometimes James, sometimes.” You mutter, shaking your head in disapproval before a small smirk pulls at your lips and in that moment he knows you’re his, “Come here.”

Heeding to your wonderful command that he’s been waiting to hear all day, he swiftly makes the short distance to gather your smaller body into a giant Bucky bear hug, his strong arms wrap protectively around your back as his head falls into the side of your neck as he quickly steals a small kiss.

You pull him in even tighter and fully enjoy the sensation of himself flush against you, metal arm squeezing your rip cage and long dark hair that falls into your eyes; god you love him so much.

Giving you one last little squeeze of affection, Bucky slowly pulls away and presses his head against yours, “I gotta be honest, I have no idea what this movie is about.” Reveals Bucky as he continues to holds you close.

Chuckling you press a kiss to his lips, “I’ll tell you what’s happening. Let’s go before we miss anything else.”

Nodding, he tilts your head up to press a sweet kiss to your lips one last time before letting you go, so that the two of you can begin walking for the door. Opening up the metal and glass door for you like the gentleman that he is, Bucky quickly jogs over to your side.

“So Sam told me these guys are wizards or something? Like they can teleport and fly I think?” States Bucky in question while walking in step with you.

Looking over at him you smile at how cute he’s being right now, giving him an agreeable nod, “Yeah they can do cool stuff like change form and set things on fire.”

Bucky suddenly starts laughing much to your confusion, “Y/N does that make you a wizard?”

Shoving him to the side you snort as he keeps laughing, “Shut up.” You mutter humorously as he stumbles from your friendly push.

Making quick steps to catch up with you, Bucky pulls you into his side, “Forgive me I didn’t mean it...” Snickers your adorable idiot, “I bet you’d be the best wizard, pointy hat and all.”

Shaking your head you can’t help the smirk that tugs against your better wishes, “I’m gonna set you on fire.” You jokingly threaten him with as he affectionately squeezes your side, causing you to be pressed even closer against him.

“Wizard.” Muses Bucky as he plants a kiss to your cheek as you try and push him away.

“Bucky, shut the fuck up.”

“But, I love you.”

[dragon-kazansky]

Familiar stranger | Helmut Zemo

Requested by @realremyd

Female Reader!

The moment is eyes had landed on you, so many things happened at once. He zoned out Sam and Bucky, he took a step away from you, his heart seemed to clench in his chest, and all he could think was 'it can't be.'

Right there in front of him was the spitting image of his wife. Well, maybe not exactly, but you did hold such a resemblance to her. It was like she was right there with him again.

You were looking at him. The others too, but it was you he found hard to look away from.

"Who are you?" He asks, needing to know if his mind was playing tricks on him.

"Y/N."

A sigh of relief escaped him. Was he relieved though?

He was obviously making you uncomfortable with the way he was looking at you, so he turned his head away. Yet, your presence felt loud. He would never be able to look at you without seeing her.

It got worse.

In Madripoor you were required to wear a disguise. You were the last to come out in the clothes he had got for you, and once again he was struck by the sight of his wife.

Often they would both dress up and go out for the evening. The outfit he had chosen, though he wasn't sure if this was intentional or not, really made you resemble her all the more.

He couldn't take it.

Zemo avoided all eye contact with you. He focused his attention on the boys, finding it easier that way. Even when he stated your role in this he wouldn't look directly at you.

You wondered if you had done something to offend him, which kind of hurt. You always did your best to get on with anyone you worked with, but obviously that wasn't happening here.

Perhaps it was best to stay out of his way.

Things took a turn: a bounty was placed on your heads because of the death of Selby, all of Madripoor was coming for you, and Sharon popped out of nowhere to rescue you.

Back at her place, you changed into something less flashy. You wanted to tone down the outfit a bit and wear something a little more you.

Zemo couldn't help thinking that you looked much better this way. Though he still saw his wife's face, you looked more like you. You suited you.

Down in the club it was easy to avoid you. Zemo blended into the crowd... kind of, and you stuck to the other side, enjoying your own time here.

You left before all of them.

When the boys left the club and went back upstairs, they found you sleeping on the sofa. You had kicked off your shoes and, obviously, made yourself comfortable.

He couldn't look away.

Zemo sat down near by and looked at you. This was a good chance to look at you without making you uncomfortable.

"How can you look so much like her, yet be so different too?" He whispered the question.

Not really realising what he was doing, he tucks some hair away from your face. You can't possibly be all that comfortable or warm here. Not wanting to overstep any boundaries by carrying you to your room, he gently lifts your head enough to put a cushion under it. He then grabs his coat and drapes it over you gently.

He leaves you to sleep in peace.

You wake up rather slowly. You had been extremely tired when you got back last night. You had enough fun in the club and excused yourself, passing Bucky on the way out.

You sit up. The coat falls from your shoulders and into your lap.

Zemo's coat.

You blink away any tiredness to examine it, running your fingers across the fur. It was soft.

Why did you have his coat?

It dawned on you that he must have out it there himself. No one else would touch it otherwise.

It smells like him.

You look up when you hear someone approaching. It's the man himself. He stops like a deer in headlights when your eyes meet his. Before he can turn around and leave, yoy call out to him.

"Wait!"

He stays standing, looking at you curiously. It still hurts to look at you, but your voice is so much different, it makes him remember who he is looking at.

"Thank you."

He looks at the way you're holding his coat. The way your have a hand resting over the fur collar, clearly finding the feel of it satisfying.

For some reason that pleased him.

"You're welcome."

You smile. It's not her smile. It's your smile. He likes it.

You stand up and hold his coat carefully, taking the utmost care in handling it. You held it out to him when you stopped a little closer to him.

He takes it. His eyes never leave you. This is the longest he has looked at you at any one moment.

You're still smiling.

"I have to ask," you begin, "have I done something to offend you?"

His lips part ever so slightly as be tilts his head a tiny bit.

"Offend me?"

"Yes. This is the most you've looked at me since we met. You don't really talk to me and you seem to avoid me when possible." You gaze down at the floor.

He can hear the disappointment in your voice. He can see the way your hands fidget in front if you.

It seemed to really bother you that he was avoiding you.

"It's nothing you have done."

You look at him with concern.

"Something I've said?" Not that you've spoken to him much.

"No."

"Then, please, tell me how I can fix whatever this is. I would quite like for us to get along while we work together," you were pretty much pleading with him.

He clutches his coat, but you don't seem to notice.

"You remind me of my wife."

The way your head shoots up to look at him tells him he caught your attention. There was no going back now.

"You look so much like her and I can't take it," he whispers. "It is not your fault at all, but I cannot look at the face of someone I loved and failed greatly."

You're at a loss for words.

"But I know you're not her. The way you speak, the way you dress, the way you look when you're sleeping soundly... that's all you."

You stand there quietly.

"If you'll excuse me." He turns on his heel and leaves the room.

Helmut doesn't speak to you at all at the dock. He ignores you further on the plane to Latvia. You find yourself looking at him a lot more, but he doesn't even glance your way.

When you arrive at the safe-house, you immediately seek out a bedroom and try to stay out of everyone's way.

Sam comes to look for you. He can see something has happened and he's concerned it's a problem.

"Y/N? Open up."

You open the door to him.

"What happened?"

"What do you mean?" You ask, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Between you and Zemo. You're ignoring each other more than usual. If this is going to be a problem, I think we should at least talk about it."

"I think it's best I tap out now. You still need Zemo, right?" You ask, avoiding his eyes.

"Possibly, but not for much longer. Why? What's happened?"

"I think I'm making it difficult for him. He told me, back in Madripoor, that I look a lot like his wife and I think it's hard for him to look at me. I don't want to be the reason the job fails."

Sam wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into his side.

"That's not going to happen. If you want to stay here, I'm sure that's fine, but just know we could really use your help."

"I think I'll stay here. You can call me if you need me."

"Alright, we're not going anywhere just yet, so you'll have to deal with Zemo being around a little longer."

"I know."

Sam gave you a slight squeeze and left you in peace. Zemo was waiting downstairs when he returned. The Baron was kind of disappointed to find that Sam was alone.

You were avoiding him too. He supposed he deserved that.

"How is she?"

"Fine. She'll probably stay in her room for a while. She's decided to stay back for now, so we'll be dealing with the Flag Smahsers without her," Sam explained.

Zemo didn't mean for that to happen.

There was another knock at your door. You called for them to enter, expecting it to be Bucky coming to see you, but it wasn't.

"Oh, Zemo."

He closed the door behind him and walked over to you, but still maintained a comfortable distance between you.

"You're not coming with us?"

"Thought it would be better if I didn't tag along any more. They need you more than me right now," you speak softly, playing with the corner of your pillow next to you.

You hear Zemo sigh gently. The mattress sinks down next to you as he sits down.

"They need you too."

You shrug.

"I didn't mean for you drop out of the mission. I shouldn't have said anything."

"No. I'm glad you did. I feel better knowing the reason why you can't look at me."

"Who's not looking now?"

You look up. His dark gaze is on you. He had been looking at you from the moment he entered the room.

He smiles.

"Won't it be difficult working with me if I'm there? I'm worried I'll jeopardise the whole thing."

He reaches out and he takes your hand.

"No. I did some thinking on the plane. I've spent too much time living in my past already, I won't let you back out of the plan because of my foolishness. I had no idea it would bother you so much that I was avoiding you." He gives your hand a little squeeze.

"I'm surprised too, you know. It kind of bothered me that you wouldn't even talk to me unless absolutely necessary."

"Apologies. I am a fool."

"No, you're not," you chuckle softly.

The smile he gives you sets the butterflies off in your stomach.

"Who is it you see now?" You ask, whispering.

"You. Just you."

You bite your lip shyly and shuffle a little closer.

"Then, I changed my mind. You'll have to put up with me when we go get the bad guys."

Zemo laughs.

"Poor me."

You rest your head against his shoudler. You don't know what it is about him, but there was something there that made you want to know him. If he would let you, you wanted to get closer to him.

Even if his freedom was short lived.

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