#do i even have a recipe tag..uh…

[katsukistofu]

ikea meatballs before marriage?

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ touya todoroki x fem reader. fluff. cursing. slightly suggestive. ⭑ your fiancé and you get a little too into playing house when you’re supposed to be furniture shopping for your new apartment.

“you’re home early.” touya smirks. an apron you’re ninety-nine percent sure he stole from the aisle showcasing the ovens with ‘i cook as good as i look’ printed on it is tied around his waist.

“i’m home!” you say cheerfully, playing along with him. 

you take a moment to study “your” kitchen and droop in disappointment. 

it was a bit too dim for your liking, the lighting.

there’s no way you could read the recipe books rei had gifted you without touya having to stand there and hold a flashlight while you did.

but the deep forest green accented cabinets, reaching all the way to the ceiling, were beautiful.

perfect for storing fuyumi’s leftover snacks that her students gifted her yesterday.

she had complained to you over the phone about how there was no space at home since all the cupboards were full of soba noodles, courtesy of your fiancé and little brother-in-law.

touya nervously watches, until he sees as you visibly brighten up, and he lets a little huff out, half in pride, half in relief. 

he knew his pick couldn’t be that bad.

then you spot the fake plant hanging from overhead, and grimace as you see a cluster of even more potted plants under it near the toaster. 

cute in theory, but definitely a fire hazard.

touya notices the little way your eyebrows furrow with doubt, and casually leans against the edge of the sink to distract you from making any more keen observations. 

you giggle at the way he almost knocks off the price tag on it in the process, too busy staring at you to bother noticing. 

“how was work?” your favorite fire hazard asks, reaching out a hand to gently brush a stray lash you didn’t notice from your cheek. 

your face always feels hotter than usual when touya pulls away, even after all this time.

“ugh, so exhausting,” you fan yourself a bit, let out an exaggerated sigh. “the printer blew up and got toner all over my clothes, can you believe it?”

“aw.” there’s a playful sparkle in his eyes as touya innocently frowns in sugary sweet sympathy. “want me to run a bath for you later?”

you can feel your cheeks start to burn. you just took one with him yesterday!

but of course you find yourself stuttering out, “oh, um sure.” 

the memory of his fingers softly massaging your scalp as he helped you wash your hair. the gentlest of touches on your skin as he lathered you in suds, pressing a kiss to your forehead between rinses flood back to you. 

you remember trying to wash his hair one time, but he quickly stopped you by trapping you in his lap, insisting that he wanted to do yours first. like he does during every bath he runs for you when you stay over at the todoroki house.

and he would take just as good care of you, your heart knows, in your cozy new apartment that was waiting for you back in shizuoka too. 

not too far from home, so that everyone could still visit, but not too close either, so the both of you had your own space.

touya grins as a shy expression suddenly crosses over your face, knowing exactly what you’re thinking about. 

with amusement, he watches as you reach over to set your purse on the white marble counter. 

a pair of strong hands claim their usual spot on your waist, holding you in place, and then you’re pulled away until your back bumps against a familiar, firm chest.

“uh-uh, mrs. todoroki.” he murmurs softly in your ear. “i just cleaned that for you before you got home.”

your breath catches. mrs. todoroki?  

“my bad,” is all you can manage to squeak out.

his nose tickles your cheek in response and you giggle at the feeling of his piercings, cold and soothing against your warm skin.

“so. what do you want for dinner today?” touya says, leaning over you to open the fridge. he scans its empty contents with a face so serious that you have to bite back a laugh. 

“what do we have?”

“stale air—i mean,” touya coughs. “uh, salad.”

“that’s it? just salad?” you point an accusatory finger at him, and he snorts at the way you force your eyebrows to scrunch together to make an angry face. so cute.

“oh, you think this is funny? take that apron off right now, you big phony.” 

“yes ma’am.” he laughs airily, reaching behind him to undo the tie when his hands stop. 

touya turns to you with a pout. “can you do it for me? my fingers hurt from cooking and cleaning all day.”

he makes it so hard to stay mad at him, even as a joke. 

you bite your lip to suppress the fond grin growing on your face, but it's too late, touya’s already seen it and he knows you’ll give into him soon enough.

“aw, my poor husband all alone in the house, cooking air and salad. it must’ve been so hard for you.”

he pouts even more. “it really was.”

the giggle you’ve been holding back finally spills from your mouth. he was ridiculous, and you loved him for it. “okay you big baby, i’ll untie it for you.” you move to stand behind him, hands reaching for the back of his waist to untie the neat bow he did for himself earlier.

“i think you mean your big strong husband.” touya leans his weight back into you. 

not enough to hurt you or make you fall, but just enough to give you a hard time undoing the knot of his apron. 

“sewing machine was acting up like crazy today, had to teach it some manners.”

“i’m sure you did.” you fight back another laugh, which turns into a whine as his broad back leans into your face even more. 

“touya stop it! do you want this apron off of you or not?”

you can practically hear him smirk from in front of you.

“i’m okay with anything as long as it keeps your hands on me.”

you step away from him and he lets out a ‘oof!’ as his back thuds against the hard floor of the ikea showroom, taking down a fake plant with him.

touya is donning a new apron when the two of you find yourselves outside of another kitchen showroom. 

“‘relax, i’ll feed you bitches.’ it read in bold. 

you giggle hysterically as he stands there, hands on his hips and looking way too proud of his find, as you snap a pic to send to the groupchat with his siblings.

i’d rather eat poison, natsuo texts back. 

his message is hearted by fuyumi and shoto a few moments later. 

a miffed touya reaches over your shoulder to steal your phone, which you easily let go of and surrender like usual with a laugh.

 his chin rests on your head, your back pressed to his chest as he perches his upper arms on your shoulders to text back. 

after he hits send with a satisfied smirk, the both of you walk onto the set.

the kitchen this time was one with a less colorful theme, yet you hear a sharp intake of breath from touya and you feel your own breath catch in your throat.

the tall windows and generous lighting more than made up for it. 

framed paintings of cranes were hung on the slate gray wall behind the dining table, and the refrigerator was much, much larger than the one you saw touya open before.

familiar indigo petals catch your eye. there was a beautiful painting of rindou flowers next to the window in the kitchen, and you can’t help but stare.

“mom would love those.” touya murmurs from beside you. your fingers lace through his as you smile softly in agreement. 

“she would.”

still in the second showroom, touya’s rummaging inside the cabinets while you study the spice rack. 

imagine all the goodies you could fit in there, from sesame seeds to shichimi togarashi.

you drool thinking about all the miso soups and sweet potatoes you could put them on when he suddenly turns to you.

“i’ve been working on my cocktails while you were at work, by the way.” touya grins, handing you an empty, plastic wine glass from where you’re perched on the granite countertop. “wanna try?”

you raise it to your lips and take a delicate sip of nothing. 

“oh yum! what’d you put in it?”

“kale juice.” he snickers behind his hand. “your favorite.”

you make a disgusted face. “well that’d explain the kick to it.”

“right? i really, really think fuyumi and natsuo would like it.”

“touya todoroki, don’t you dare.”

“hey.” he raises both hands in innocence. “a little kale never hurt anyone.”

“you say that but you hate kale.”

“a little kale never hurt anyone unless it’s me.”

you roll your eyes and wrap your arms around his neck. touya’s hands smoothly guide your legs to hug his waist, bringing you closer to him from where you’re sitting on the counter. he stays standing, towering over you. 

“can’t believe i’m marrying a hypocrite.” your voice is muffled against his shoulder, and he laughs.

suddenly, you gasp and point at the sink. “touya!”

his eyes widen at your raised voice, instinctively looking behind him for bugs to kill because that’s the only time your tone would sound that alarmed.

touya hugs you closer to him protectively. 

you can’t help but melt as his arms wrap even tighter around you, his serious turquoise eyes still scanning around the kitchen for any threats to you.

no bugs. 

no tacky “live, laugh, love”-esque sayings framed on the wall.

which he knows is your biggest interior design pet peeve after binging an insane amount of those house flipping shows with you.

“...what is it?” touya finally asks after a moment of hesitation. 

you giggle at the ticklish feeling of the cold silver of his lip piercing brushing against your forehead as he speaks.

“the dishes aren’t in alphabetical order!”

touya breathes a sigh of relief, then laughs into your neck. 

he pulls away to roll his eyes at you. “you nearly gave me a fucking heart attack!”

“what, why?” you laugh, fluttering your lashes at him. so utterly adorable, that he resists the urge to bite you.

touya fights back a blush and averts his eyes from your face, remembering his protective actions. they had been purely instinctive. he reaches up to cover his face with one hand.

“touuu!” you can’t help but laugh harder, reaching up to pry his fingers away from his face. “come on, look at me!”

touya shyly slides his gaze back to you, and lets you take his hand away from his face. 

you lace your fingers through his and lean in to give him a sweet kiss on the lips, which only makes him blush even harder. the chill of the ikea air conditioning did nothing to help.

his eyes trail in the direction of the spice rack you were dreamily looking at earlier.

“why is this crooked?” he frowns, reaching behind you to straighten it.

“pfft is it bothering you?” you take a glance at it. looked okay enough to you.

“yeah it is.” touya’s hands are on the shelf, trying to readjust it into the right position when suddenly—

snap!

the both of your eyes widen at the sound. 

the shelf was upright and more centered than before. 

except now it had a clean split down the middle of it.

of course, touya chooses to focus on the most important part.

“well at least it looks better now.”

and all he can think about as you laugh into his shoulder is that he can’t wait to stand hip to hip with you in your actual kitchen. 

sunshine peeking through the curtains as the two of you make soups, bake each other’s favorite pastries, and indulge in your random middle of the night cravings.

from now until forever.

after lunch in the restaurant, touya adds ikea meatballs to his list of favorite foods. 

you’re pretty sure that’s only because you fed them to him. 

because while you adore him to pieces, he is an unbelievably picky eater, much to fuyumi’s chagrin. 

luckily, he’ll eat anything as long as you’re the one giving it to him.

your sister-in-law thanks you for her lack of headaches when she makes dinner.

in the third kitchen showroom of today, you squint out the window behind the sink.

“i don’t know if i like it.”

“don’t know if you like what?” touya’s still washing his hand in the imaginary water under the faucet that’s clearly never going to start running. his silly self has been there for the past five minutes, at least. 

you hold back a laugh at how meticulous he is about it.

“the view.” 

he looks up and snorts at the wistful gaze you throw out the obviously fake window. 

it had a picture of city scenery taped on the wall outside of it, and the circular shape of a familiar building catches his eye. he recognizes it.

the meguro sky garden in tokyo.

the first place he ever took you out on a date to.

with a fond twitch of his lips, he remembers the way he almost tripped over his feet under the cherry blossom trees when you had suddenly pecked him on the cheek. all those years ago.

touya turns the faucet off, and comes up behind you to lean his head on your shoulder as he wraps his arms around your waist. his eyes soften as you nuzzle against his chin. 

he knows that you know he can’t feel any sensations there anymore. 

but god, does touya love that you still touch him in the places where he can’t feel. 

the way you litter soft kisses under his eyes, stroke his forearms as you guide them to your waist. like they’re still a part of him, like he’s not broken.

like he’s always been whole to you, never any less. 

“but sweetheart,” touya muses. “think about how close it's close to the best schools.”

your face heats up as you realize what he’s talking about. like you haven’t thought about it a million times before.

a kid. with him.

his and your kid.

as if the universe read your mind, a very chubby baby being pushed in a cart passes by the opposite side of the window, covering the picture of tokyo’s scenery.

and it stares at touya and you with the judgiest look you’ve ever seen in your life.

the two of you glance sideways at each other and burst out laughing. 

“nevermind,” you giggle, feeling small and safe tucked in his strong arms. “maybe the view isn’t so bad.”

looking softly down at you, the beautiful color of your eyes meets his, and his heartbeat quickens.

touya can’t help but agree.

a familiar weight softly rests on your shoulder when you groggily open your eyes, and your fiancé is close to follow as he stirs beside you.

you flip around to face him from where he was spooning you, giggling at the little trail of drool coming from the corner of his mouth as you watch his eyes flutter open.

you feel your breath catch in your throat as you gaze upon him.

his hair is starlight in the morning.

touya, still half-asleep, snuggles against you, completely drunk on your warmth. the soft feeling of your skin against his. 

he doesn’t even try to resist it.

the little giddy smile that tugs at his lips whenever the cool feeling silver of your sapphire embedded ring sparkles under the sunlight pooling through the curtains of your shared bedroom as he laces his fingers through yours.

his own ring softly clinking against the one he gave you.

after moving into the privacy of the apartment, with no prying eyes or nosy siblings randomly bursting into his room, touya loves to sleep with his lips just barely grazing your neck.

whenever you wake up from a  nightmare, he’s already kissing the nape of it, the protective hand he has on your hip smoothing circles into your bare skin.

when he wakes from his, you’re already quietly cradling him in your arms, running your hands through his midnight black hair. 

you really have no idea how hard you make it for him to get up.

but the idea of seeing you happily smile because of him is what gives him the final push to wriggle out of your embrace, and the adorable little pout you give him  almost breaks his heart.

“where you going, tou?”

he grins cheekily, placing a finger on his lips. “it’s a secret.”

there's a grumble from you in response and he smooths the crinkle between your furrowed brows with a gentle kiss.

“i’'ll be back soon, i promise.”

“you better or i’m eating your last pocky.”

he laughs at your threat, as if he wouldn’t give it up to you the moment you asked.

at the sight of your eyes already starting to droop, touya presses another kiss to your forehead. “go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

“no.” you pout as his socks pad against the floor when he leaves the room with another laugh. 

huddled up in your floral patterned blankets, you drink in the faint scent of sweet cologne that lingers on them. 

it still smells like him. warm like him, too.

there’s an old photo of touya framed on your nightstand. you love to look at when you fold his and your clothes. 

rei had slipped it out of the family album for you to keep the moment she saw how much you liked it. 

it’s the one where he’s holding a baby shoto like a football in his arms. there’s an easy grin on his face.

you look at it for a little longer, letting a sleepy, content smile spread across your lips. 

until five more minutes pass, and you’re starting to feel impatient.

“shoto!” you call out the doorway in the direction of the guest room you set up for him the day before he came to visit. “what’s your brother doing?”

“cooking.” comes shoto’s soft voice floating down the hallway.

and that’s all it takes for you to get up and rush to the kitchen at lightning speed.

thankfully, the fire alarm hasn’t gone off yet by the time you get there. 

you find touya slicing peaches on the counter, in front of the painting of rindou flowers. there’s a plate of neatly assorted fruit next to him, and your eyes widen as you admire the rose-shaped strawberries. how’d he do that?

“hey.” touya’s eyes narrow playfully when he notices you, putting down the knife. “you’re supposed to be in bed.”

you place your hands on your hips. 

“and you’re supposed to not be burning our new apartment down.” 

throwing a cautious glance at the unmanned pancakes sizzling in the pan beside you, you add on. “with your little brother in it.”

he breathes a laugh and saunters over where you’re standing by the fridge, cornering you to the counter. 

your fiancé grins at your stammers when he leans closer. he can practically feel the heat from your cheeks from here, and touya thinks the tiny house plant overhead grows an inch taller from the sheer warmth you’re radiating.

“stove’s off, sweetheart. they’re not gonna burn.”

“o-oh.” you sigh in relief.

“you worry too much.” touya murmurs softly as holds you in place by the waist to hold up a spoonful of blueberries he forgot to add to the batter. 

your lips reluctantly part to let him feed you, and his heart skips a beat at the hint of a smile on your face.

“mmph!”

suddenly, touya’s lips are on yours and you taste the sweet tartness of the peach he must’ve had before you came over. 

the cold piercing of his tongue teases your mouth and he corners you even further against the cool marble of the counter to make out, just as you hear a pot start to boil and your eyes snap open. 

you’re breathless as you muster all your willpower and break away from him.

“touya, the pot!” 

“oops.” he glances at it, still caging you against the counter with his arms. 

“forgot about that.”

“found your necklace that fell behind the bed last week.” touya says later after breakfast. you’re both sitting on cushions fuyumi and natsuo gifted you at the coffee table in front of the tv, watching ponyo as sunlight seeps into the living room.

it swings it back and forth on his finger and your eyes widen in relief.

“i was looking everywhere for that to wear to shoto’s class party!” 

“i know.” he grins, and you sigh as he presses a soft kiss to your neck. of course he did. 

touya reaches around your neck to securely clasp the back of the necklace’s chain, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“i think i deserve a little reward.”

you giggle, he was so cute.

“thanks touya.” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and he pouts.

“not there.” 

“where then?” you smooth your hands against his bedhead and he almost whines when this time, you press a kiss to his forehead. “here?” 

always such a tease, and he adores you for it. 

touya looks like a desperate puppy as he huffs, nudging your nose with his. 

like you didn’t spoil him with kisses yesterday when he fixed the washing machine that was acting up.

you’re still not totally sure how he did it, but that was probably because you zoned out while he was explaining it to you. 

too busy watching the way his forearms flexed as he fixed the pipes behind it and when he’d take whatever wrench or screwdriver he asked you to hand him from the toolbox.

finally, finally your lips find his and you kiss him, soft and sweet.

a cool breeze blows through the open window, and the both of you breathe it in, smelling dewdrops on grass from the rain last night and hints of sunshine. 

touya smiles against your mouth, arms pulling you into his lap so he can taste you better.

you’re stuck with him. 

from now until forever.

“or maybe home is just two arms wrapped around you when you’re at your worst.”

— danagray

[parfaitblogs]

over the moon ❀ s. reid x reader

in which a bout of insomnia prompts the usage of your arguably overworked baking equipment. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff tags: established relationship. cliché flour fight into kissing... sorry... no i'm not. use of pet names. make out sesh (obviously).  word count: 1.4k a/n: also known as spencer and reader take on the margotlia bucket list for margovember!!! happy birthday to my lover @pathologicalreid!!! who has very quickly become my other half on this silly little side of tumblr. a prophet told me there are snickerdoodle cookies and a smithsonian date with our names on it in our futures ♡

"Honey, please tell me the light on in the kitchen is you getting a glass of water."

Like a deer in headlights, you're frozen in your beelined pathway between the fridge and the countertop of Spencer's kitchen, the carton of eggs in your hands preventing any attempt of a lie to him.

"Uh..." Your eyes lock with his, and he's visibly deflating upon spotting the pantry's baking ingredients arranged in front of you. "I'm just getting water?"

"I didn't realise you put sticks of butter into your water," he counters, voice meticulously picking apart your lie in front of your face. "Does that taste good?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sure," he nods his head, his feet carrying him over to you behind the counter. "What recipe have you chosen to victimise today?"

"Snickerdoodle cookies," you mumble, as his arms wrap around your waist, and his chin sits on your shoulder, eyes peering at your phone screen that had the cookie recipe open. 

"Any particular reason?" 

"I couldn't sleep," you explain. "Did I wake you up?"

"Yeah," he nods, and a beat passes where you mumble a quiet apology to him, before he's pulling away from you and picking up your phone. "Where do we start?"

It wasn't the first time you had baked instead of sleeping, and it certainly wasn't the first time Spencer had woken up to the sound of your hand mixer combining sugar and butter, or the oven timer dinging to accompany the smell of freshly baked muffins. In fact, he had become accustomed to not getting through an entire fortnight without at least one tray of baked goods taking up counter space. 

It was the first time he had offered to help you, though. He either accompanied you and watched you bake, or sat at his desk to get paperwork done (he said he should use the extra time spent conscious wisely). 

"You don't have to help," you're shaking your head, but he's already going to the sink to wash his hands. 

"You only slept for two hours before waking up to do this. I'd like to get you back to bed sooner rather than later," he answers, patting his hands dry. "I won't sleep until you do, anyways."

"Okay," you relent, staring at him almost stunned, before you return to the recipe you had up on your phone. "Um... could you combine the sugar and butter?"

Baking with Spencer Reid seemed to make everything a lot easier. Ignoring the obvious (the help an extra set of hands provided), his eidetic memory meant you could throw a step his way, and he'd know exactly what he was doing. Having asked him to add the eggs to his sugar and butter mix, he was already separating the yolk from the whites before you needed to say a thing.

"Have you ever stuck your hand into flour?" you ask him, and he lifts his head, eyebrows frowning together. 

"No. Why would I do that?"

"To know what it feels like," you say, dryly, though there isn't any malice behind it. "Have you never wanted to know what it feels like?"

"You can use context clues to figure out what it would feel like," he replies. "Correct?" 

"Spencer, you're entirely missing the point," you shake your head, and though he lifts his head from his sugar-butter-and-egg mixture to question you, he doesn't even remotely expect a large fistful of flour to explode across his chest. 

Then, you're laughing, and he's still battling with the initial shock of your flour attack for a few more seconds to laugh with you. But, when he does, he's almost mocking with it, and your face falls when he's putting his own hand into the container labelled flour, lifting it, and dragging his hand over your stomach. 

"Oh my God!" you say through a laugh, looking down at the smear of flour on your t-shirt. "Spencer!"

"Reap what you can sow," he retorts. 

So, you do.

You aren't too sure when the flour fighting gets more intimate. Somewhere between your fingers running it through his hair, and his hands landing on your ass, as he tugs you into him.

You're heaving, though the smile on your face is perfect, and he's certain he might be falling in love with you all over again. Cheeks stained in flour and all. 

"Hello," you sing, lifting your chin up to smile at him.

"Hi, sweet girl," he replies, ducking his head down to brush his lips against yours, and you pull a face at the faint taste of flour on them. 

Your finger lifts up to brush his lower lip, face growing concentrated as you brush the powder off it. "You've got a little... something..." 

"Do I?" he asks, condescendingly, and you're firmly nodding your head. 

"Yep. This is why I bake alone, Spencer Reid," you tut. 

His eyebrows raise. "I don't know if I want to even try to prove you wrong."

"I wouldn't recommend it."

"Duly noted. Anything you do recommend?"

You pause. "Kissing me might help in my journey of forgiving you for this mess."

If he's got any plan to defend himself, it crumbles beneath the words of your request, and his lips are stretching into a smile. 

"I'll do whatever I can."

His lips have a film on them from the brushed away flour, making them softer than they usually are, as he presses them against yours. Hands that were once resting almost teasingly on your ass lift to your hips, and your own drop to the countertop behind him as you lean into him.

As you usually feel in your slow moments like this with him, you feel your heart soar, your head tilting to the side as you accomodate his face being so close to your own. 

Arguably, his favourite thing about kissing you for longer than half a second, is the mewls and hums that leave your lips. Never too much to prompt anything more, but instead just enough to tell him just how much you enjoy kissing him. A feeling that is entirely mutual.

As soon as it starts, it's over. Which can't really be true, for you are panting when his head pulls away from yours,  and he's got that glassy look in his eyes that always makes your body warm. 

"We need to go shower," he murmurs, breath warm against your skin. 

You want to decline, just to stay standing right there in the kitchen with him, the urge to keep kissing him almost overwhelming. But his fingers have lifted to brush against a patch of flour on your neck, and you're surrendering at the feeling. 

"Okay."

Thus, forty-five minutes and one unreasonably long shower later, you were standing back in the kitchen, a bowl with cinnamon and sugar in front of you. Spencer's t-shirt hanging off your body — after you had expertly coerced him into letting you wear it — and a fork in your hands as you whisk the two toppings together. 

He's sitting on a stool on the other side of the bench, stirring the dough together after you had complained it was too thick. He argued it was supposed to be. 

Heading over to Spencer once the cinnamon and sugar was combined in a bowl, you mumble, "Okay. 'm tired," your head buried into the crook of his neck. 

"Yeah, weaponising that flour probably exhausted some energy," he muses, letting go of the wooden spoon to wrap his arms around you. "We still need to bake these, though."

"Cookie dough is yummy too," you retort, hand reaching out to pinch a piece of the dough. 

"Cookie dough isn't safe for you to eat," he answers, catching your wrist before you can get ahold of any batter. Upon seeing your pout, combined with the tired look in your eyes, he relents, letting you pick up a small piece just to eat. "How about we put this in the fridge, and we bake them tomorrow?" 

"I like that plan."

"I thought you would."

Helping him with the clean up consisted of you putting the dough in the fridge and cinnamon sugar in the pantry, and him doing... everything else. He didn't seem to mind, though, and his hands found their place on your waist as he walked you back towards the bedroom. 

"C'mon, sleepy girl."

He laughs at your incoherent grumble towards the name calling, letting you drag him back into the bed adorned with wrinkled sheets. 

"Thanks for baking with me," you say, voice layered with your exhaustion as you're curling up next to him. 

"Thanks for attacking me with flour."

"And I'd do it again."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 1: Baking Cookies

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Baking Cookies (🌼)

Summary: You convince Matt to bake cookies with you, and it’s a rather… domestic scene.

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff. That’s it. That’s the post.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/n: Day 1 of Fictober and we’re starting with something sweet! The -ber months always get me in the mood for cookies, especially chai tea or matcha cookies, so that’s what inspired me. Who wouldn’t want to bake cookies with Matt on a cold and rainy day? I know I would. If you want to be tagged for all fics of this event, let me know. Other than that, I am using my respective fluff and smut tag lists that I use for just about everything I write. But if you want to be tagged for both and aren't already on my tag list, feel free to tell me in the comments! Now, I’m so happy we all get to do another October together, and I can’t wait for you to see what I’ve got cooking for you! May you all come out of this sufficiently satisfied.

Read Me On AO3!

The streets of New York are bathed in a disarray of colors as dead leaves continue to fall off the half-green trees. Before you knew it, summer had slipped away into a moment in time. The heatwave that had terrorized the city turned colder with the end of September, and then suddenly, October was knocking on your door. 

You watch the rain trickle down the kitchen windows. The air smells of roasted cinnamon and coffee beans. The billboard outside shines brighter than the afternoon sun stuck behind a sky of gray, throwing a blanket of dark purple over the apartment, and the radio has been playing the same Beach House song on repeat for the past hour. But as you look over at the love of your life, his rough fingers delicately dancing over the label on the sugar jar to figure out what’s inside, there is no doubt in your mind that this is where you belong.

Matt is wearing the maroon sweater you knitted for him last Christmas. Once the seasons start changing, he pulls it out of the closet like he couldn’t wait to wear it again. Your hands crafted something for him to wear so he wouldn’t have to suffer through the cold anymore; there are not enough words in the English language to describe how much that means to him, but you know. You always know.

He looks almost content, standing there with his hair tousled, glasses discarded somewhere in the living room, and a faint smile on his lips. His brown eyes are so soft they remind you of the hazelnut coffee you shared before you suggested, “You want to bake some cookies?”

Much to your surprise, Matt didn’t argue. You expected him to tell you that it’s not Christmas yet, and you were prepared to tell him that cookies don’t need a specific season to be baked. But his face lit up as soon as the words had left your mouth, and he was more than eager to spend the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen with you. 

“How much sugar do we need?” he asks. 

You look down at the handwritten chai cookie recipe he picked out. “Uh, half a cup,” you say. 

He nods, eyebrows furrowing in utmost concentration as his hands feel around the countertop for the measuring cups. You gently place your hand over yours and guide it to the cold plastic. 

His smile widens. “Thank you.”

You look at him like he’s the only man in the world, and to you, he is. It’s not often the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen lets someone into his heart, you learned, but you only fell harder for him when he finally did. He’s beautiful and not at all perfect, but he is all you want.

“Sugar?” Matt snaps you out of your thoughts. 

“Right,” you murmur. “Half a cup.”

He can probably hear your heart racing, hammering against your ribcage. You guide your joined hands into the sugar, filling it only half before moving over to the bowl with the other dry ingredients. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t even comment on how flustered you are, he just holds on tightly to your hands as though he is afraid you might slip away if he doesn’t. 

It is a different kind of intimacy that’s almost sensual, bodies brushing as you get a whisk to mix it all together, your hand over his and the rain pattering against the window in tune with the radio. 

The cinnamon and the chai tea mix with the faint note of Matt’s cologne on your body, on his shirt, and the scent is unlike anything you could possibly describe. You find yourself leaning closer, impossibly closer, barely stirring anymore. He’s home. He’s your home. 

“Is this part of the recipe?” Matt murmurs. 

You hum. “This step is called stirring the batter.”

He smiles against your temple. “Mh. I like this step.”

“Me too.”

One of his hands slips from yours and comes to rest around your waist, swaying you to the music. You wouldn’t dare break this magic.

“Is there a step called ‘Kiss my future Mrs. Murdock��?” he asks then.

Blood rushes to your head. You’re so fucking happy. A giggle slips past your lips. “I think that’s the next step,” you say. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He bridges the gap between you like a man starved, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that knocks the air right out of your fragile lungs. His hand tugs you just a little closer. You belong to me, the action screams. And while you would never allow yourself to be considered someone’s property, it is nice to be wanted. To be needed. To be desired like you are the only thing on his mind, and treated right. Because you deserve it.

After a moment, he pulls away. His unfocused eyes roam your face, but you know he is only listening to your heartbeat, smelling you, feeling you—that’s how he sees you. 

“What’s next?” he asks softly. 

You peek down at the batter, then look back at him. Your mind is still reeling from the kiss, but you manage to pull yourself together enough to say, “Wet ingredients.”

“Oh?”

“Not like that, you pervert!” 

Matt chuckles, throwing his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking about it.” You swat his chest. “I wanted to bake cookies, so let’s bake some damn cookies.”

If you don’t pull away now, you’re sure you won’t get anywhere tonight. 

“Is that what we’re doing?” he teases. 

You nod. “That’s what we’re doing.”

He takes whatever you give him, and does whatever you tell him to until the cookies are finally in the oven. He doesn’t waste another second before pulling you back into his arms.

“Hi,” he says. 

You smile back at him. “Hi to you, too.”

“You forgot this…” You watch as he reaches into his pocket to pull out a ring—your ring.

It was only natural for him to ask you to marry him. He’d been waiting an eternity to do so. No one knows him like you do. No one sees him like you do, and no one loves him quite like you. You’ve seen him at his best and his worst, and you love him not despite but regardless of all of his demons. He doesn’t know what he did to ever deserve you. Quite frankly, he’s not sure he will ever be worthy, but he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try.

Matt had gotten so used to people walking out on him before you came along that he truly believed he was beyond redemption. Beyond saving. But then you tore open the manifest of his soul, read all the pages, and you gave him your heart anyway. He has not let a day go by where he hasn’t at least tried to do right by you. To take care of you. To love you. To carry you in his very hands like the fucking ethereal being that you are. He’s so scared of losing you, he sometimes loses sight of what he wants just to make you happy, but it’s worth seeing the smile on your face when he brings you flowers he thinks smell like you, or when he gets dinner from your favorite restaurant to surprise you after a long day at work. 

Matt’s only purpose in life is to make you happy because he knows you give him the world in return, a kind of love he never thought he would get to experience. It’s unconditional, it’s deep, and at times, it hurts, but he’s learning what it is like to appreciate the life he was given.

He would steal the stars for you if you wanted them. He would die for you, and sometimes he thinks he might even kill for you. Break all of his rules just to make sure you stay unharmed. He would go up against God, even, if it meant you wouldn’t have to suffer. He would not survive losing you, and sometimes, that scares him.

It has been a long road for him, and at times it felt like he was carrying a wooden cross on his back like Jesus did, but all the suffering eventually led to a sense of peace. He learned how to love again—to love you. After Elektra, after putting Fisk away, after everything, he allowed himself to settle down. And he knew shortly after he met you that he was going to marry you. 

You wrap your hand around the ring in his hand, and he gasps softly as he returns to reality. “Didn’t want it to get dirty,” you whisper. 

Matt slips it on your finger, and it feels again like the first time he did it. “I know. I kept it safe for you,” he says. A pause, and then, “I love you… Mrs. Murdock.”

He will never tire of saying it. Not even when you’re old and gray and you can’t remember where you put your godforsaken glasses. 

You wrap your arms around his neck. “I love you, Mr. Murdock. And I can’t wait to marry you.”

The honesty in your voice overwhelms him. “You mean that?” 

“With all my heart,” you promise.

The words take a second to seep in, to withstand the doubts that are always raging inside of him, but then he pulls you in, and he kisses you again. He kisses you like his life depends on it, the delicious smell of chai tea cookies filling the air, and it’s the safest you know you are ever going to be—here, with him, and in his arms. 

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @ethereal-blaze @littleagxs @lucienofthelakes

[elvensorceress]

not quite tuesday tidbit teases

it's probably tuesday somewhere and this just popped in my head and I wanted to share. what do you think? do we want more?

tagging if any of you want to share something 😘 @hippolotamus @eddiebabygirldiaz @messyhairdiaz @rainbow-nerdss @tizniz @spotsandsocks @daffi-990 @monsterrae1 @diazsdimples @watchyourbuck @wh0re-behavi0r @911onabc @chaosandwolves @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @rogerzsteven @epicbuddieficrecs @bekkachaos @fiona-fififi @wikiangela @exhuastedpigeon @the-likesofus @hoodie-buck @lover-of-mine @mikereads @jesuiscenseedormir @lemonzestywrites 💕

It’s just after midnight and Buck is going to bed. 

He’s been saying this for a couple hours but YouTube had too many AItA videos and Instagram had those gorgeously edited food recipe posts and he doesn’t even want to talk about the doomscrolling of TikTok. But he had a day off and it was supposed to be with Tommy so they could take the weekend and go somewhere fun and romantic, but then Tommy had to work. Buck could’ve gone in with the rest of A shift. But it was nice to have some alone time for himself so he took time for himself. 

His phone goes off with a call five seconds after he’s gotten into bed. It’s a number he doesn’t know. So he could ignore it. Or wait until they’ve left a message. But who would call at this hour for no reason? Or for scamming, telemarketing reasons? 

So Buck answers. 

“Buckley?” The man on the other end says. He sounds vaguely familiar but not enough that Buck came put a name or face with a voice. 

“Uh, yeah? Who is this?” 

“Mehta. Captain Mehta. Of the 133.”

“Oh, hey,” Buck says, automatically friendly and smiling. That makes sense now. “What’s up? Why the— why are you calling?” Why would he call in the middle of the night?

Why does anyone call in the middle of the night.

“Buckley,” he says and it sounds… it sounds… it sounds like…

They have him now. They’ll take care of him. Why don’t we get you cleaned up. He’s in good hands. They’ll rush him to surgery. You don’t have to worry. Let’s get you cleaned up. 

Lets get you cleaned up.

Buck can’t breathe. His whole body is cold. Frozen. 

He tries to get out of bed. He tries, but just slides to the floor beside it. He doesn’t make it any further.

“Buckley, there was a helicopter crash. Your team, our team we went to rescue the pilot. Your, uh, sorry, I don’t know what you call him, but your boyfriend? Life partner? He—”

Oh god. No. No, that’s not. That’s not happening. That is not what is happening right now. This can’t be a, Tommy is dead and I’m letting you know. It can’t be that. It’s not. They were going to—

They were supposed to have a romantic trip together. Wine tasting and some kind of museum Tommy thought Buck would love and maybe a visit to a hot springs up north and they were going to watch the sunset and the sunrise and—

And he can’t be dead. He can’t be.

“He’s alive,” Mehta says. “We’re at Cedars-Sinai. He’s alive, but. It doesn’t look good. He’s in the ICU now. He’s critical.”

Buck pushes himself up. Has to. He has to be there. 

He barely remembers to thank Mehta or even end the call before he switches off his phone and runs out the door. 

~

The drive is a blur. The drive is probably very illegal and he doesn’t know how he doesn’t crash, but he doesn’t have time to wait for an Uber or for anyone else. He runs as fast as possible to the ER lobby, and almost runs directly into Chimney. 

Not almost. Buck crashes into him and almost knocks them both to the floor but that almost actually is an almost because Chim somehow steadies them both. 

He’s pale. Shaken up. His eyes are red. He’s been crying. 

“Chim,” Buck says as broken as he feels. “Chim, where— where is he? What happened? How did this happen? Please tell me he’s okay. He can’t be dying, right? That can’t be happening?”

Chim opens his mouth and grips Buck’s arms tighter, still trying to steady him. “Buck, we— we don’t know yet. It was bad, but he’s tough. You know that. He could be fine.”

Buck lets out a broken whimper and backs away from him. “No. He is fine. He’s fine and this isn’t happening. I just— Chim, I just found him. I can’t lose him already.” 

There’s a flash of something on Chimney’s face but there’s movement around Buck, too. Other people. Bobby, he’s pretty sure. And Hen. They would be here. They would try to comfort him. But they don’t need to because it’s fine. Everything is fine and this isn’t happening. 

It can’t be happening. 

He can’t be dying.

There’s more movement and it’s all blurry, probably filtered through tears, but then everything stops. The world stops. 

Tommy is right in front of him. Whole, alive, real, a little rumpled and there are bloody scratches and bandages on his face and around his arm. But he’s here. He’s fine.

Buck slams into him, throws his arms around him, and sobs as he clutches him. 

“Baby,” Tommy says softly as he hugs Buck tightly, cradling him, comforting him, and Buck can breathe. He’s not frozen. Everything is okay. They were all wrong. Buck knew they were wrong. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Tommy tells him and holds him tighter. 

Buck pulls back just to look at him. “No, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He takes a deep breath and smiles because Tommy is fine. He’s right here and everything is good. Buck touches Tommy’s battered face and caresses him gently. He’s bruised and also pale, and very soggy. It’s been stormy tonight. Another reason why Buck wasn’t all that eager to go out in it. “They told me—  fuck, they scared me. I thought— I thought I lost you. I was so scared. I don’t want to lose you. He told me—Mehta, Captain Mehta— he called and told me there was a helicopter crash and my boyfriend was in the ICU and he’s critical and it didn’t look good, and I can’t— god, I can’t. Tommy, I—”

Tommy’s face isn’t good. It’s pale. Bad. Not smiling. Not relieved. It falls and he can’t even hide the devastation on it. He looks like guilt and death, and his mouth moves but nothing comes out. “Evan,” he finally says, barely says. It’s too quiet, too broken. “Evan…”

No. No, Buck doesn’t like that. He doesn’t want to throw up right now. And he just might. His heart is rabbit speed lightning and his legs don’t exist anymore and there’s an awful blackhole of apocalyptic world-ending destruction swirling and growing in his stomach. 

Someone takes his arm. Someone needs his attention. He’s moved from Tommy’s arms because there is no safety or comfort anymore. There’s no relief. There’s no happily ever after, nothing will ever be okay. 

Buck knows why Mehta said what he said. He knows who isn’t here. He knows who would have come to him and immediately comforted him. 

He knows. 

He knows what this is now. It can’t be that. It can’t. Buck doesn’t know anything.

Hen tells him. She holds his arm and says calmly even if it’s broken. Everything is broken. They’re all broken. “Buck. It’s Eddie.”

No. No, it isn’t. It isn’t that either. Buck really can’t take that. It was bad enough, unimaginable enough the other way. It can’t be this. 

He’s already done this. They did this before. More than once. Forty plus feet of cruel earth and a whirling burst of metal and blood all over him. 

Eddie’s blood was all over him. 

“The helicopter went down and got stuck on the cliffs. He went in so he could pull Tommy out, and we got Tommy out,” Hen tells him, every word a knife stabbing through both of them. All of them. 

“He saved me,” Tommy says, quiet and full of regret. “He saved me and went down with it. They thought it was stable enough. It wasn’t. They got him out after. But…”

Buck collapses to his knees on the floor and holds his head in his own hands as if he can somehow hold himself together when there’s no holding himself together. 

It’s Eddie.

It’s Eddie it’s Eddie it’s Eddie. 

Buck shatters like flimsy glass and sobs in all the pieces that are ripped out of him. What about Chris? What about Abuela? What about Eddie’s parents and sisters and friends and everyone else who loves him?

What about Buck? They can’t be BuckandEddie without Eddie. 

“I need to see him,” Buck suddenly says to the closest person who will listen. “I need to be with him. Please. Please.”

There’s arguing that happens. Bobby yells at someone. Hen, Chim, and Tommy stay around him like a protective guard. Until someone finally agrees. He’s not in surgery, they can’t take him to surgery yet. He’s not stable enough. But he’s on a ventilator, life support. They warn him and Buck doesn’t care. He knows how bad these things can be. He’s lived through several. 

They give him five minutes. 

They’ll have to drag him out with an armed guard if they think Buck will agree to only that. But at least it’s something. 

It’s something. 

Eddie is mostly covered. Blankets, wires, tubes, IV lines, bandages. He’s paler than all of them. Slightly blue-purple, cyanotic. They tell him a few things but Buck can’t hear them. He just wants to be with Eddie. 

Buck sits beside him and rests a shaking hand over Eddie’s hand, under the blankets where it’s trying to be warm. Buck would give anything to keep him warm, and alive. 

Eddie needs to stay alive. He needs to. 

Buck rests his forehead on the side of the bed near their joined hands. He would say something if he had the capacity to form words and sentences. The only thing in his head right now is, don’t leave me, please don’t leave me.

And that’s probably all he can say. All that really matters. 

Don’t leave me, don’t leave me, please, don’t ever leave me.

(read now on AO3)

[stubz]

Tuk didn't like this. She didn't like having to carry the tank and mask, didn't like being on the ship, and certainly didn't like this coal-ition.

But they could help Mom and Dad get rid of the RDA and they were healing Neteyam so she was trying not to whine. Well not too much.

It made her feel a little better that Loak and Kiri didn't like this place either. Spider was still deciding.

Right now they on a tour of the ship, their guide looked like a fluffy Prolemuris, or as Dad called them, a monkey. It was boring.

Only the others found it cool and that's cause Spider can breathe and all the new creatures they saw and the science thingy's.

So when Tuk heard the sound of kids laughing around the corner she followed it.

Down a large hallway she saw a giant door with a huge sign that said something care something. She wasn't really paying attention when Dad and uncle Norm tried teaching her how to read.

Looking back and seeing that the others were too busy to stop her she walked in.

Inside was a giant room filled with kids, tables, stuff, more stuff and toys.

"Hi, are you new here?" she looked down and saw another creature that looked like their guide, a tiny fluffy monkey thing.

"Uhh yeah. What is this place?"

"This is the youngling centre. It's where we stay until our parents can take us home. I'm Marl."

"Tuk."

"...what are you?"

"Huh?"

"What are you? I've never seen anyone so tall, or blue."

"Uh a Na'vi. ..what are you?"

"I'm a Ursa." for a moment they stared at each other. As most children do when seeing something/someone new.

"Put your foot in for freeze tag!"

"Ooo freeze tag! Come on lets go play!"

"What's freeze tag?"

"It's a new game we just learned. Its easy." The little Ursa grabbed Tuk's tail using it as a leash to pull her along.

.

Freeze tag was Tuk's new favorite game. She loved running and there was lots of running and even if she got caught she could get out if someone unfreezed her.

The books were also fun. Marl read to her and let her hold the book. She liked the one's by Robert Munch, she also liked his funny name.

There were lots of other things to do too. There was a climbing area with fake tree tops and lots of ropes to swing on. In the back there was a shallow pool to swim in, it was fun but she didn't like having to dry off with the scratchy towels.

There were was blocks that stuck together which made building easier. Tons of markers, crayons, and paint that was hard to get back at home. They even got lunch.

"Okay kids you know the rules, grab a plate a drink and find a spot to sit."

"Teacher Max we need a chair for Tuk!"

"One chair coming right up...wait who?"

"Tuk. She's new."

It was at this moment Tuk realized she hadn't noticed the two adults in charge here. And it was at this moment that said adults realized they had one more child than usual.

"Oh hey, nice to meet you. Tuk was it," she nodded. "I'm Max and that's Kim. We're the teachers here."

Of all the new creatures and beings Tuk's seen so far it was only now that she was nervous. Humans had that effect on her. Not all humans, Spider definitely never made her nervous, but new ones did.

She knew her Dad used to be one, loved and liked uncle Norm and all the human scientists her family knew. But ever since what happened to Neteyam and their home, both the old one and new one, she was a little nervous.

"Do you like it here so far?" Luckily for her Max had noticed her nerves and knelt down to give her the advantage of height and to look her in the eyes.

She nodded.

"Well that's good. What do you like so far?"

"...the games...and drawing stuff and the food, it's good." he laughed.

"Well thank you, it's a family recipe. And I'm sure Kim will be happy to hear that you like the games she's taught the kids."

With that he gave her a chair and left her to finish her meal with Marl.

..

"Hi Tuk, I'm Kim."

"...hi."

"I noticed that your really tall. How old are you? 20?"

"No? I'm only 7." she smiled.

"What?? No way. You're almost as tall as me!"

"Actually Teacher, I think she's taller than you."

"No!"

"Tuk Tuk, stand up! Let's see!"

She got up and true enough she was taller than the adult by 2 inches.

"Holy...I didn't actually think you'd be taller than me." Kim had seen tall kids before but never had she met a kid taller than her this young.

The children laughed cheering that finally someone was taller than their shortest teacher. Tuk couldn't help but join in, standing on her tippy toes to make her even taller.

"Okay, okay that's enough. Calm down. Now, Tuk, since your so tall do you think you could help me with something?" Tuk hesitated but nodded.

Kim lead her to a tall bookshelf that had a doll stuck ontop of it.

"This has been stuck there for the whole day and we can't get it since the bookshelf can't be climbed and the ladder is broken. So what I'm thinking is you get on my shoulders and grab it. Sound good?"

"I get on your shoulders?"

"You don't have to if your scared of heights, I can ask one of the other kids or just wait."

"I'm not scared of heights," she pouted. "I just don't think you can carry me. I'm big and your small."

"Oh really?" and before Tuk could say anything she was tossed over Kim's shoulder.

"Still think I'm too small!" the blue child shrieked with laughter until she was put down and together the two got the doll down.

...

"What do you think the emergency is about?"

"Maybe Smelv burnt dinner again."

"Nah I don't think so. Captain look a little too tense for a simple fire alarm."

"So I called all of you here because we have a missing child. She was last seen on a tour of the ship with her siblings. Her name is Tuk and she is a Na'vi; tall, tail, blue, bi-pedal." he brings up a hologram of her from the security footage.

"...JAMES CAMERON WAS RIGHT?!"

"...shit I knew we weren't expecting another kid."

....

"Dad! Dad! Can I go to school here?"

"Your grounded. As are all of you." he added looking at his older kids. Plus Spider.

"Aww, Kim, Max, can I go to school here?"

"...uh Tuk, I think that's a question for another day..." preferably when your mom isn't about to bite my head off thought Kim.

"Yeah definitely. Definitely not the best time right now." Max was sweating bullets trying not make eye-contact with the Captain who was very not subtlety growling at him.

'We fucked up.' they both thought.

[amywritesthings]

new year, new choso. / choso nye fic

pairing: choso kamo x f!reader ( jujutsu kaisen ) word count: 1.9k summary: Choso Kamo has never been to a New Year's Eve party. Who knew chaperoning his kid brother to Gojo's Jujutsu High party would end up like this? tags: new year's eve kiss, nye party fluff, choso is a sweet baby angel goth, and he's wearing a suit, alcohol, mentions of cards against humanity credit: dividers by @saradika dedicated to @nube55 , @sixpennydame , and @chishiyasan xo

welcome to the final day of the twelve days of amymas !!

New Year’s Eve parties are typically not your thing.

Loud music, bustling crowds, crowded rooms with crowded strangers — the whole debacle always sounded like a recipe for disaster.

Ieiri claimed that this gathering would be different. Small.

Albeit still a party by Gojo Satoru’s standards as his entire penthouse is littered with tacky balloons, confetti, and endless amounts of blinking year-end sunglasses, but tamer than anticipated.

It’s probably something to do with the fact that said gathering included his students from Jujutsu High.

The teenagers all crowd in the dead center of the living room excitedly playing Cards Against Humanity while Gojo's colleagues and friends mingle about the main floor.

(There’s just something about watching a cursed panda argue that his cards are accurate to the prompt as opposed to the obscene and filthy winners — ironically, a silent kid with cursed speech tattoos holds the jackpot of black cards.)

You were once destined to become a sorcerer yourself, but you’d hung it up for a simpler life. Not unlike your best friend, Shoko, but not as close to the Jujutsu world.

Then again, you never really get away from this life. Not really.

(Only thirty minutes left until the new year.)

“Did you need a refill?”

The gentle question comes out of nowhere to your side, breaking your concentration of the rowdy game.

When you turn your head, you’re immediately taken by a dark-haired man with a thin, black strip covering the bridge of his nose like a blush. He wears a maroon button-up, satin to the eye, and a dark suit jacket to compliment his pale complexion. His shoulder-length dark hair is in a half up-do, fixed hastily in a tiny bun at the crown of his head.

Your first thought? He’s beautiful.

Your second thought? You find yourself staring for too long, lips parted with an answer you’ve all but forgotten.

The man blinks back at you, shuffling in the uncertain silence. 

“I, uh — sorry, I probably should have said ‘hello’ like a normal person and —”

“Uh, sure, I could walk with you?” you blurt, hating yourself for the way his eyes round with his own bout of confusion. “For a refill. I’m getting kind of stiff sitting against this wall.”

He’s a stranger, even if it’s technically a friend’s party.

You’ve been taught from birth that you should take care of your own drinks — but that doesn’t mean you can’t accompany someone as alluring as him to go grab a new mixed drink.

God knows Gojo bought out the entire liquor store despite how seventy-five percent of the party can’t drink and, the irony, Gojo doesn’t drink.

(An overachiever even in the art of hosting, Shoko joked before she dipped for a smoke break.)

Right.

You're dissociating.

Back to the guy in front of you.

“And hi,” you add lamely after a beat.

The stranger fights a smile, choosing to rush a small huff of air.

“Hi. Name's Choso Kamo,” he awkwardly introduces. “And yeah, I wouldn’t mind the company.”

He fidgets with a button of his dress shirt, popping it absently.

“Feels a little crowded here.”

"A little," you agree, gesturing for him to show the way.

Shoulder to shoulder you both walk to the drink table, not saying a word.

You note how the stranger — this Choso — keeps his eyes on the table of kids as they heavily debate which answer should win: the cold, dead fingers card dropped by a triumphant Kugisaki, versus the Daniel Radcliff’s delicious asshole card slipped in by a stone-faced Megumi.

“Dying to join in on the game?” you joke, trying to break the slow-building tension.

“Hmm? Oh. God, no. I’m not getting involved in that war.” The man blinks to you, his expression softening for a moment. “My kid brother’s over there.”

“Which one is he?”

Choso smiles small, clearly proud to point him out.

He fills his cup with a moderate amount of rum and soda, mixing it with a wooden stirrer.

“The pink-haired one. Yuji.”

Yuji isn’t hard to spot, not by a long shot.

He’s giggling between Megumi and Kugisaki, joyously playing moderator to the budding fight for who has the best card this round.

When you turn back to Choso, you see his smile has widened.

“He’s got his work cut out for him if he’s the Card Szarr this round," you say.

Choso laughs breathily and takes a sip. “Yeah, his friends are a little brutal. Good kids, but… opinionated.”

(As proudly displayed by the way the finalists shout at one another. Yuji laughs hard, shaking his head — only to pull a major upset by choosing the panda’s card instead.)

“He’s the only reason I’m here,” Choso adds belatedly, seemingly wishing to keep the conversation going. “I’m not exactly friends with the guy who threw this thing.”

“Who, Gojo?” you ask. He nods. “Me neither. My best friend managed to drag me out of my cave. Not sure if you know her — Shoko Iieri?”

Choso shakes his head. 

“Can’t say I do. Then again, I could say that about everyone. I only really came so my brother and his friends had a chaperone home." He straightens once he's done filling his drink. "I take it you don’t normally do these things, either?”

“That’s nice of you,” you comment, filling the rest of your drink before clinking the glass to his. “And no, I kind of hate parties. Way more of a quiet environment sort of person.”

“You and me both,” he commiserates. “Believe it or not, this is my first New Year’s Eve out.”

“Really? Your first, ever?”

He nods. “It’s a little complicated. Jujutsu shit.”

The words make you accidentally bark out a laugh, startling Choso.

He warms to it, however, and laughs with you. 

“Jujutsu shit is very much something I can’t seem to get away from,” you explain.

“Guess I found the one person at this party that gets me,” Choso admits with a dissolving chuckle, the black strip on his nose sprinkled with a gentle pink blush at his confession. “Yuji was pretty insistent on making it a big deal, given it’s my first real holiday outing. We spent Christmas just with the two of us this year — sorry, am I talking too much?”

You sip your drink and shake your head. “I like listening.”

It’s the truth: this man is interesting.

Clearly he’s not completely of this realm, that much you’re quite certain of, but he’s truly trying to be human.

Choso fumbles, but he’s honest about his experience.

It’s a refreshing taking on a world you’ve become so cynical about.

“I usually don’t talk this much,” he admits; his second confession of the night. He sighs and shakes his head. “Anyway, yeah. Christmas was solo, but he wanted to do this big party with his friends. Begged me to come along. New Year’s is an interesting idea, but the traditions… I don’t know.”

He squints at nothing in particular as he thinks.

“There’s so much I want to try now that I’ve got this life.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I have the drinking part down,” he tells you, glancing down at his glass and outfit. “I dressed up, though given what everyone else wore—”

Sweaters. Jeans. Nothing fancy — not like him.

“—I think I screwed that part up.”

“I think you look amazing, for what it’s worth,” you blurt, and he catches your eye with an appreciative glow.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, suits always look good.”

Choso grins, albeit briefly, yet the growing confidence lingers.

“Party games, though I’m happier to watch than play right now. Then there’s that New Year’s kiss thing?”

Oh.

He turns to you for confirmation, but you damn well know your face is on fire from the implication.

“When the clock strikes midnight, you’re supposed to kiss someone," he explains like you're new to this, too. "Make a wish or promise or whatever so that the next year is going to be better.”

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He leans in a fraction further, dropping his voice to a murmur. “That's what I heard, anyway.”

You’re expecting him to have a but scoot into that sentence, but he pauses to search your face for the right or wrong answer.

“I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss,” you admit — it's now your turn to confess.

His brows furrow. “Really? Never?”

You shake your head. “Maybe that’s why my years have been so shitty lately.”

Choso nods with a grave understanding. “Could be.”

A few of the teenagers cheer, abandoning the game to turn on the main television.

The clock is only a few minutes until midnight.

Three, to be exact.

Suddenly the drink in your hand becomes your life line.

“I admit that I didn’t know if you needed a refill on your drink,” Choso pipes up, slow and careful. You turn your attention from the television broadcast to look at him. “I only came here to make sure Yuji had a good time with his friends, but then I saw you come in with that woman.”

Wait, he saw you come in?

When you say nothing, he sucks in a sharp inhale to explain himself. 

“I spent an hour working up the courage to come talk to you. I couldn’t think of anything to say. You’re so damn pretty, and you seemed fine hanging out by yourself or with her, and so I thought — I mean, I needed a refill and some liquid courage — so it — do you get what I’m saying?”

No, no you don’t and yes, yes you do.

“You’re very pretty yourself,” you tell him without thinking, causing his eyes to widen. Yours follow suit, rounding like saucers. “I mean — yeah, as soon as I noticed you, I thought you were attractive—”

“People go out for coffee, right?” he interrupts as if he’s been waiting all night to ask. “When they think someone is pretty, they… go out for coffee or dinner or walks.”

One minute remaining.

Choso pauses to stare into your eyes, earnest and true.

“I’d love to go out for some coffee, or whatever dinner you want, or even just a walk. Maybe. Some time. If you’re… free.”

A date.

Forty seconds until the new year, and you’ve already scored yourself a date.

“We could do one of those things,” you murmur. Choso’s face brightens. “Maybe all of them. And we could start it off with…”

Twenty seconds. 

“Making a wish?” the dark-haired man suggests when you trail off, rounding towards you so he’s closer.

For someone who says he has a lot to experience, you’re surprised that he seems to cage you in with experience. 

If it wasn’t for his eyes begging you to confirm that this is what you want, then you’d think maybe he was a liar.

“Yeah. For a great new year,” you explain, lifting your chin.

Ten seconds.

“For a great new year,” he exhales with a promise, leaning in.

His hand reaches to gently cup your face as though mesmerized by how soft your skin feels beneath his palm.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

The clock strikes midnight, and a pair of plush, timid lips gingerly press to yours.

You meet with an eager kiss, and you swear you feel Choso’s mouth curve into a satisfied smile against yours.

(Maybe next year really will be better.)

[steviewashere]

Better Together

Rating: General CW: None for this one! Tags: Post-Canon, Fluff, Comfort No Hurt, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Baking, Steve Harrington Likes to Bake, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Sharing Food, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Soft Steve Harrington, Soft Eddie Munson

For @steddie-week | July 7th Prompt: Free Space | WC: 870

Hehe, I want to say that I chose the word "heart" as my inspiration, but I saw a recipe for heart shaped thumbprint cookies on Pinterest and this is what came to mind <3

Title from "Better Together" by Jack Johnson

🍪—————🍪 Steve makes thumbprint cookies for every holiday he can think to. Halloween gets some with black currant jam, Independence Day gets blueberry, Christmas has cranberry, orange marmalade for Thanksgiving. So on and so forth. He learned to bake because of his nana, may she rest, and he wants to continue to share her love with the world.

So, he expands from holidays. He makes them for first days of school. When a neighbor of his breaks their leg. Bakes them for a little girl around the block, tells her she can sell them with her lemonade—he even buys a little paper cup; it’s not the greatest lemonade, too much water, but he still smacks his lips and says it’s the best cup in the world. He bakes them for Robin when she can’t sleep from nightmares; for the party when it comes to D&D campaigns; for himself when it’s the middle of the night and he misses what home used to be like—loud and full and warm.

And he makes them, too, when he starts dating Eddie sometime after Vecna. Eddie’s had some cookies; been there in the kitchen, the dining room, outside even. Been there to see if they’re “poisoned.” Shown up, without notice, holding a jar of homemade raspberry jelly from his kitchen, claiming it to be his mama’s recipe.

Over time, he realizes he wants to share this recipe of his with Eddie, too. Though, Eddie’s kind of a mess in the kitchen—he’s not a terrible cook, not at all, but he’s very…all over the place. Sometimes dishes will sit for too long in the sink, or he won’t set a timer within the first two minutes, or he’ll accidentally chop too much of an herb. He gets distracted and it’s honestly endearing, but Steve doesn’t trust him to bake, not completely.

While he’s making cookies for them for Valentine’s Day, the idea smacks him right in the face. He’s got the dough all rolled into balls, placed on sprayed parchment paper, oven preheated. Ready to go.

He wipes his hands on a nearby dish rag. Calls from the kitchen, “Eddie?” And he’s there beside Steve within the blink of an eye; his eyes darting between the tray of cookies and Steve himself, probably two seconds away from attempting to eat raw cookie dough—again. “Wanna help me with something?” Steve asks finally.

“Uh, sure, Stevie. You need me to grab an ingredient from the pantry? Make sure no flies get on the dough?”

Steve shakes his head. Knows that if he leaves him alone with the tray, the cookies won’t even have the chance to be baked. So, he looks on and smiles at Eddie fondly for: being so thoughtful and also because there’s a stray strand of hair curling from his hairline. His hair is up and out of his face, there are indents around his eyes from wearing his magnifying goggles, little splotches of mini-figure paint on his fingers. It’s sweet. Domestic, if he stops to think about it.

He leans into that. Swipes away that strand of hair. Scoops up Eddie’s hands. The warmth and weight welcoming in his own palms.

“Wash up with me and then help me thumbprint the cookies?”

Instead of words, Eddie drifts over to the sink. They wash their hands one after the other. Eddie scrubs furiously at his skin, making sure that every last little flake of paint swirls down the drain, and then he sidles up to Steve. Looks cowed at the still raw dough.

“M’kay,” Steve murmurs, “so for Valentine’s Day, I do things a little different.” He grabs Eddie’s left hand, from where it’s resting limp on the countertop, and hovers it over the baking sheet. Then, he takes his right hand and does the same, just underneath Eddie’s. Presses that thumb into the top of one cookie. “You see how my thumbprint is sort of sideways?”

“Mhm,” Eddie hums. “Yeah, I see that.” Steve quickly glances up, another surge of fondness working through him. Eddie’s face is one of pure concentration: eyebrows furrowed, eyes squinted, tongue poking from between his lips. 

Steve makes himself look back at the cookies before he does something stupid like propose.

He carefully lowers Eddie’s hand until he can press his thumb on the other side of the cookie. When he draws the hand away, he comments, “There. Now, our thumbs are making a heart on the cookie.” Tilts the baking pan a little so that it’s angled towards Eddie. “See? I do that to all of my Valentine’s Day cookies. Except, now I have somebody to do it with.”

Eddie looks up to him. Eyes crinkled in the corners and a soft, adoring smile on his face. “You do your half and then I’ll chase after?”

He smiles back, teeth and all. “I’d love that, Eds. Then, when we’re done, you can pick the jam we use.”

At the end of the day, Steve made two dozen thumbprint cookies. Each of them filled with Eddie’s homemade raspberry jam. Most importantly, though, each of them are—

“Shaped with our love,” Eddie points out.

And that sounds like the sweetest treat of them all.

🍪—————🍪

[keyotos]

i'm yours tonight

summary ⎯ late nights w/ dan heng. inspired by my sleepover hcs.

tana's words ⎯ having HELLA dan heng brainrot rn. also i'm getting through everyone's requests ASAP!! i just wrote this bc im having major writers block rn.

tags ⎯ fluff. unestablished relationship but the feels are there. oblivious idiot (you). reading together (real).

"psst. dan heng, are you awake?" you whispered. you were crouching down next to him on the floor, head circling his figure as you tried to find out if he was awake or not. it was the early hours of the morning and you felt slightly guilty for waking him up.

"now i am," dan heng shuffled around until he faced you. "what is it?"

"i can't sleep," you laughed dryly, "again. do you have a book i could borrow?" you stood up. dan heng wanted to pull you down by your hand so you could be back on his level. he reached out slightly and then shot his hand down.

dan heng stumbled out of his floor mattress. charming, he thought to himself. he moved towards his bookshelf as you followed him. you stood so close to dan heng that he started feeling goosebumps on his neck; the warmth of your breath making him shiver.

"what are you in the mood for today?" dan heng asked as he started browsing his shelf.

"anything, really," you sighed. "something boring? i've been having trouble sleeping for the past few days," you rubbed a hand over your temples.

"have you been alright?" dan heng swiftly turned to face you, all thoughts about the book forgotten.

"yeah," you rubbed your eyes, "i've been fine. you don't have to worry about me," you beamed through your drowsiness.

i always worry about you, he wanted to say.

"dictionary?" dan heng pulled out the book, emphasizing its thickness.

"words. perfect," you wiggled your eyebrows. you grabbed the book and flipped through a few pages. it's condition was pristine, as always.

"thanks, dan heng," you looked at the book and then looked back up to him, "hopefully i'll be able to sleep soon," you held onto the book tighter. for some reason, you wanted to stay in this room; stay with dan heng.

dan heng parted his lips, in awe of how you still look gorgeous even when you're exhausted, "no problem," he gulped, "if you need another way to sleep faster, i know a good herbal tea recipe."

"i might have to take you up on that offer one time," you smirked, "if you hear three knocks on your door, just know it's me."

dan heng laughed, "noted."

you waved goodbye and started walking out the door. you intentionally started walking slower than usual, in hopes dan heng would offer you tea right now. you didn't feel like going back to sleep, especially going back to sleep alone.

you stopped in your tracks. dan heng didn't move; he examined you, wondering if you forgot something or not.

"is it okay if i stay in here?" you turn back around, walking slightly closer to him, "i don't feel like falling asleep alone tonight."

dan heng raised his eyebrows in shock, facial expression slightly contorted, "i⎯uh. are you sure?"

hearing his reaction made you want to shrivel into your body. his confused tone made you worry, "um. yeah," you looked down at the floor, "unless you don't want me here. that's fine!" you looked back up at dan heng.

dan heng blushed at your disconcerted state, "no. you're welcome to stay if you'd like," you're welcome to stay all the time, "but my bed is uncomfortable. do you really want to stay in the archives?" he raised his eyebrows as a way to affirm your answer.

"oh!" your entire figure stood up, "i'll stay wherever you are, to be honest," you had no idea of the affect one sentence had on dan heng. while he was trying to hide his blush, you continued, "but if your bed is a problem, we'll just stay in my room."

"are you sure⎯" dan heng was cut off.

"yes," you vigorously nodded your head. "why else would i offer?" you wrapped your arm around his neck, "okay! let's move!"

dan heng keep rubbing his neck on the way to your room. when did it get so hot? luckily for him, he felt his warmth drain when he reached your room. it was freezing: definitely below (at least) 67 degrees. and then he noticed the heap of blankets lying on your bed, which explained so much.

"make yourself at home!" you waved your arms around, as if you were showing a grand prize. you flopped onto the bed and proceeded to wrap yourself in the blankets.

dan heng, on the other hand, chose to lay on top of the covers for two reasons. the first reason being, if he had gotten under the covers with you, he feared that he'd be too flustered to even face you. the second reason was he may burn up.

"are you gonna get under here?" you asked, shuffling around your mountain of blankets, "it gets really cold at night."

"i'll be fine. don't worry about me," he shrugged. as he tried to light the lamp on your nightstand, you grabbed his hand before he could turn it on.

"quoting me now?" you teased.

"i⎯" he paused. "i assure you, yn. i'll be fine," trying to hide his gaze from your eyes. your hand on his feels so blissful. your grip, so light and calming.

"and i assure you," you hold on tighter, "you're gonna be cold tonight. like, freezing. i saw your body react to when we came in here. you were about to shiver," you recognized his body language? "don't be stubborn. c'mon."

hesitantly, dan heng made his way under the covers. he could feel you next to him, your body radiating heat the blankets could not. unknowingly, he gravitated towards you, so much so that the two of you were touching knees.

"feel better now?"

"slightly, yes."

"you do," you dragged on the syllables in a sing-song way. you opened up the dictionary and began to read inside your head. well, struggling to read. it was dark and you insisted to not turn on the lights (it disrupts REM sleep, you said).

"give me that," dan heng grabbed the book out of your hands. though you try to protest, he holds the book out of your grasp.

while you try to reach for it, you end up sprawling yourself all over dan heng's body. at some point, you went from simply pressing your chest up against his to practically straddling him.

dan heng tried to take his mind off of your position; he focused on keeping the dictionary out of your hands. it was fun, teasing you. if his arm was standing in one place it would've been easier to reach, however, dan heng possessed a sense of agility you knew nothing of until tonight.

when you exhausted yourself in your efforts, you crashed down on top of dan heng. for someone who was (apparently) adept on dan heng's body language, you didn't notice how his chest was rising unevenly, how is breaths were more shallow and hitched. you concluded that his warmth occured from how many blankets were on top of him, and not the fact that you were practically centimeters away from his lips.

"how else am i supposed to sleep if i can't read," you mumbled in his ear, too worn out to talk at a normal volume.

dan heng tilted his face away from yours, scared that something would happen if he had gotten too close, "i'll read for you."

this time, you hauled yourself off of dan heng's body, now opting for leaning into his side, "how? you can't read in the dark either?" you leaned your head on your hand so you could look at dan heng. dan heng was grateful for the dark, otherwise, if not for the dark, you'd be able to see how red he was in the moment.

"i actually can," he opened the book, flipping through the pages to find the most boring words. you shook your head in disbelief; there was no way he could actually read in the dark (he could).

you shuffled through the blankets once more, trying to find the cold spot on the bed. the cold spot was nice, but it wasn't satisfactory, for you could not hear the sounds of dan heng's voice. so you leaned closer, resting your head on his shoulder yet again.

"quintessence: the most perfect or typical example of a quality or class," dan heng read out. you found that his voice started lulling you to sleep already.

"do you think people just make these words up and they just appear in the dictionary?" you slur out, consciousness slowly fading away.

dan heng softly chuckled, "maybe," he flipped through more pages, "tintinnabulation: a ringing or tinkling sound."

you laughed into his bicep, "are you sure you're not the person making these words up?"

dan heng wanted to sear your laughter into his skin, "i'm not. are you about to sleep yet?"

"i'm sleeping now," you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, "mimimimi⎯"

dan heng delicately smacked the dictionary on your face, "sleep," he stressed. when you moved yourself closer to dan heng, he couldn't help but pull you slightly closer. maybe it was the facade of exhaustion donning on him, or maybe it was because he wanted you closer.

as he felt your breathing slow and listened to you get less chatty, he knew you fell asleep. he set the dictionary aside and tilted his head down to look at you. how could one look so enchanting while sleeping? he carefully stroked your eyebrow, an endearment he used only for you, and pulled you closer into him.

when you two woke up in the morning, none of you dared to discuss how you were practically entangled and intertwined together.

bonus:

"i think that was the best sleep i've ever gotten," you laid on dan heng's shoulder. "your voice put me to sleep."

dan heng, trying to avoid even closer contact, "so are you saying my voice bores you?" he teases.

"what!?" you take your head off of his shoulder. though dan heng avoided the encounter, he wished for your head to come back down; he missed how his heart began to race with you near.

"no! your voice is just⎯ really peaceful. and calming. and nice," you try to explain yourself. when you see a slight smirk threatening to show on his face, you scowled. "it's too early for this," you playfully shoved him away from you, missing his smile on the way.

[traumxrei-archive]

【 epilogue : winter’s aftermath 】

summary tags: the end of winter break (+ this series), pov: everyone’s reactions to leonayuu being leonayuu, ruggie is having a great time, jack doesn’t get it, crowley's sobbing, grim expects more fancy tuna, and cheka’s just a sweetheart <33

word count: 3.6k

author’s note: here’s the epilogue ^^ i hope that you enjoy the last fluffy bits of this series, and happy birthday to leona kingscholar <33

[ baby it’s cold outside series | read on ao3 ]

i. ruggie and jack

The days that preluded the end of winter break was filled with hustle and bustle. Many of NRC’s students were frantically packing last minute, and saying heartfelt goodbyes to their families as the new semester approached.

Ruggie, for one, was trying to figure out how he was going to lug all of his luggage back to Savanaclaw. His Bibi meant well, but she could be a bit of a worrywart. What started out as a few herbal medicine ingredients soon turned into many, and she insisted that he should share with his friends if they ever needed it.

“I doubt that they’d drink any of that stuff I give them, Bibi,” Ruggie said, casting a levitation spell over his luggage and stringing it down main street.

“Ruggie-senpai!” Jack called out. He was decked out in full winter gear, a messily knitted scarf wrapped around his neck. Ruggie snorted, waiting for his junior to catch up.

“You just got back?” Ruggie asked, tugging at the end of Jack’s scarf. “And what’s this?”

“Oh, uh,” Jack’s ears twitched, clearly embarrassed. “My sister made it for me. It’s actually pretty warm. Have you gone to visit Leona-senpai yet?”

“Nope,” He popped the ‘p’, shedding his jacket as they entered the Savanaclaw mirror. “I am not looking forward to how messy his room is gonna be.”

Jack unwrapped his scarf, gently placing it in his bag, “Yuu told me that they were doing Leona a favor or something, so maybe it’ll be okay.”

Ruggie blinked. Yuu and Leona spending winter together…? Well if that didn’t sound like a recipe for disaster, then he didn’t know what would. He quickly dumped his bags in his room, taking the quickest route to Leona’s room.

“Are you worried?” Jack asked, having followed behind him.

“About Yuu-kun more than anything,” Ruggie muttered as he reached for the door. “You know how Leona-san can be sometimes.”

The door creaked open, and the two were greeted with…Leona sitting on the couch while Yuu was mid-stride seemingly pacing around the room.

“Oh, hi,” Yuu greeted. Their posture betrayed their awkwardness more than anything that was actually was going on.

“Hi Yuu,” Jack said, leaning against the doorway. “What are you doing here so early?”

“I, uh,” They glanced down at Leona, who raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Leona tried to cheat his way out of doing one of the worksheets so I came back to scold him.” And that was when Ruggie noticed something off.

He glanced around the room. It was…neat. Neater than he had seen it for ages. Heck, even the bed was nicely made. And in the corner he spotted what looked like Yuu’s bag sitting right in front of Leona’s closet. Not to mention…

“C’mon, herbivore,” Leona drawled, spinning the pen in his hand. “Don’t worry your pretty little head over a single worksheet.” Leona didn’t look the slightest bit annoyed at being up early with a worksheet right in front of him. Instead, he was just focused on them, barely looking over at him or Jack.

“Leona-senpai, Yuu’s heating and cooling depends on this,” Jack said, and Ruggie could see the twitch of Leona’s brow clear as day. Uh oh. “Cut them some slack.”

Something had changed. Ruggie could hazard a guess, but he did not want to stick around and face the wrath of Leona’s anger this early in the morning.

“Listen here, pup,” Leona said, irritation in his tone. “Winter break ends in two days. I’ll get it done by then.” Jack, on the other hand, seemed confused at the sudden hostility.

That was when Yuu stepped in, "You said you'd finish early so we could go to the botanical garden." Miraculously, Leona leaned back, throwing an arm over his eyes.

"Everything's too loud today," The gripe was halfhearted, and Ruggie's jaw could've dislocated from how low it was dropping. The Leona Kingscholar...calming down just like that?

Yuu carefully sat down beside him, "Then why don't we go to Ramshackle, your Highness?"

"Don't call me that," Leona huffed, though Ruggie didn't miss the way his tail instantly wrapped around their leg.

"You said you liked it," They teased, before turning to them again. "How was you guys' winter breaks?”

Leona seemed to frown as they started conversing with Jack. And Ruggie..well, he prided himself on being able to read the room, so he very promptly turned around, shoving Jack out of the room.

"Wh– Ruggie-senpai–"

"Ah, sorry, Yuu-kun!" Ruggie called out. "I forgot I have something to do with Jack-kun, talk to you next time!” Jack didn’t know just how close he was to getting sent to do lap.

And Ruggie couldn’t bite back the grin on his face either. Now he had a cheat card to dealing with Leona’s bullshit. He made a mental note to give Yuu some of the herbal medicine that his Bibi gave him, because Seven knows that they would need it.

ii. crowley

Crowley was having quite the headache of a day. It came with running the school single-handedly, he supposed, and he almost mourned the loss of sandy beaches and the cold drinks that he had savored just the day before.

Alas the show must go on. He was the illustrious headmage of NRC after all!

And he was on a mission to find his favorite student. He wasn’t supposed to play favorites, but he found himself particularly endeared to the Ramshackle Prefect, Yuu. They were a good kid, better than the other troublemakers at the college.

So he often found ways to give them things, such as the phone that he conveniently gave them before winter break. (For communication purposes only. Definitely not because he was worried or anything.) Or the task he gave them before winter started. (He knew how dreary Ramshackle got, so the school’s heath would give them the warmth they needed.)

“Ah, there you are!” He exclaimed, finally finding Yuu amongst the shelves at Sam’s Store. “I was looking everywhere for you, Prefect!”

Yuu was dressed well for the cold weather, and he could see they were wearing the gifts that the other staff members gave them, “Headmage. How was your vacation?”

“Oh, it was wonderful, the beaches were— wait that’s not what I’m here for!” Crowley coughed into his hand, a bit flustered. They were the only student out here that was polite enough to ask him such questions. “I just wanted to congratulate you on the completion of your tasks! The fairies were buzzing about your timeliness.”

“Oh, uhm,” They awkwardly shuffled around the snacks in their arms. They always got like that when he complimented them a bit too eagerly. “Thanks I guess. And our heating and cooling?”

“Oh,” Crowley blinked, remembering the empty words he spouted before winter break. He didn’t think they would really take it to heart. “The fairies are more than happy to help out to make Ramshackle more hospitable, so I shall send them over soon. And you’ve outdone yourself with your other task, so don’t hesitate to ask for something else.”

“Hey, hey! Little imp and Crowley!” Sam greeted, ever the jovial. “What an interesting combo! Crowley, did you finally get them your gift?”

“Gift?” They asked, staring with what Crowley would say was just a little bit of hope. Argh. His conscience was hurt.

“I should have given this to you before winter but,” Crowley laughed nervously. “I was just…so busy with the mirror business—“

“Crowley was wailing to us in the teacher’s chat about how ‘his child would freeze without his gift’ and what not,” Sam said conspiratorially.

“I-I was not!” Crowley sputtered, finally pulling out the small gift. “There. Please use it well.”

Yuu opened the small box, a smile spliting on their face, “Are these…socks?” They were, indeed, socks. Not just any socks, the best thermal socks on the market. With the NRC logo on it. But they didn’t need to know that part.

“Yes, well, a good pair of socks goes a long way!”

Yuu laughed, “You’re right. Thank you, Headmage.”

“I-It was the least I could do. And Sam, I was simply congratulating Yuu-kun on a job well done,” Crowley tapped his cane on the ground, trying not to be too proud that Yuu liked his gift. “They managed to get Kingscholar-kun to finish all his worksheets for this winter break.”

Sam blinked, “That’s a magnificent feat! What kinda black magic did ya use on Kingscholar?”

“Yeah, herbivore, what kind of magic did you use to persuade me to do schoolwork?” The group immediately startled, watching as Leona leisurely walked over, slinging an arm over their shoulder.

Yuu seemed to fluster, “I…we just exchanged favors. That’s all.”

“Hmm,” Sam hummed, a grin on his face. “My friend from the other side is telling me something interesting happened over the break.”

Crowley narrowed his eyes as Leona smirked, “W-Wait a minute! Kingscholar-kun! What did you do to the Prefect?” Nothing good could come out of Leona Kingscholar looking so…so triumphant!

“I didn’t do anything,” Leona said coyly. “If anything it was Yuu who suddenly—“

“Okay, enough,” Yuu interrupted, tugging Leona out of the store. And the weird thing was Leona easily followed. “Me and Leona have something to discuss. See you two later!”

As they hurried away, it finally dawned on Crowley.

He pointed a half crooked finger toward the exit, “Are they…dating?”

“Seems so to me,” Sam snickered. “I think they make a cute couple.”

No…Crowley couldn’t accept it. There’s no way his beloved child was dating Leona Kingscholar. There was no one in NRC that Crowley could wholeheartedly approve of dating Yuu. Especially not Leona. Not on his watch.

“That— Kingscholar!”

iii. grim

Grim wasn't stupid. He wasn't into complicated stuff like classes, but he sure noticed the new development that had happened over winter break.

Leona Kingscholar, the scary– ahem, lazy beastman from Savanaclaw...was always with his henchman nowadays. When they had alchemy homework, he was always there in a labcoat next to them. When they studied in the library, he was dozing beside them. And especially during meal times like this! He helped himself to the food that they cooked. And the worst part was the fact that the henchman didn’t seem to mind.

It was to the point that it was worrying, because his henchman was his! Their one and only boss was him, Grim the Great, after all!

But it seemed that Leona was trying to steal his henchman away from him.

Grim narrowed his eyes as the henchman left to grab some water, "Hey. Why are you trying to steal my henchman from me?"

"Hah?" Leona glanced at him before takong another bite out of his lamb chops. "Who's stealing from who?"

"I mean!" Grim stood up on his chair. "You're always around them these days, yanno!"

Leona scoffed, but he seemed to consider his words before finally speaking, "How 'bout a truce, furball? They stay your henchman and they're my herbivore. Deal?"

Well. First of all, Grim wanted to take offense at being called furball. It was clearly an insult to his (very cute) and intimidating fire ears.

But that...

"Hmph. Fine," Grim pointed his paw toward Leona's plate. "But I want one of those!"

Leona grinned, tossing a lamb chop onto Grim's plate, "Pleasure doing business with you."

As Grim chewed on the lamb chop, the henchman returned, two glasses of water in their hands, "What are you guys talking about?"

"Nothin'" 

"Nothing."

The beastman and monster stared at each other for a moment before going back to their food. Grim kept an eye on Leona, who was being more touchy than usual. He kept poking the henchman and the henchman looked...

That was when Grim remembered Ace being all gross and talking about his past dating escapades. And that was when it clicked.

"Henchman," Grim glanced between the two with hesitation. "Are you two...dating?"

Yuu choked on their bread, and Leona wordlessly handed them his water.

"Yeah," Leona stated, rubbing their back lightly. "Why?"

"Nothin'! It's just," Blue eyes scanned Yuu, before thinking back to the many people at NRC who definitely expressed interest in them. "Henchman, I think ya could've done better, yanno?"

Leona's eyes narrowed, "You little–"

And that was how Grim spent some time running away from the beastman who chased him around Ramshackle. Meanwhile the ghosts were congratulating a still-shellshocked Yuu, so Grim's yells for help went unanswered. At least he got a lamb chop out of the whole ordeal.

iv. leona 

It was official. Maybe Leona was finally starting understanding where Falena was coming from when he gushed over his queen. Leona himself could barely keep himself from thinking about Yuu once every few minutes.

It would be embarrassing to admit just how many times he had been distracted enough that his gaze kept drifting toward Yuu.

Yuu who was comfortably nestled against him, scrolling on their phone. He wrapped an arm around their waist, nuzzling into the plane of their back.

"What's this about?" They asked, their hand patting his own.

"Nothing," He said, his voice muffled as he felt their heat seeping into his fingers.

His thoughts couldn't help but drift back to their conversation that fateful day.

And until that moment Leona had never realized how similar they were. Their words were a mirror of his own, down to the talk of the word ‘deserve’.

He spent his life being a slave to that word. 'I deserve to be king.' 'I deserve to be the dormleader.' 'I deserve to win in the magift tournament.’

All the thoughts of 'deserve' in his life never led anywhere useful. Did he ever want to be king, or was it just the words of others around him that filled him with such hatred for his own existence that the throne was the only thing that he thought would fix it?

If he truly wanted something he should fight for it. And if he lost, and still wanted it, then he would try again. That was what he understood now. And that was what lead him to Yuu.

It still wasn't fully resolved. Leona still had his doubts on whether he could truly care for them properly. And he sure as hell hadn't figured out just what got Yuu to have such a warped perception of him. But… 

His arms tightened around them. It was something that they could figure out at a later date. For now, he would settle for the way their heart rate seemed to spike as he softly stroked their stomach.

He pressed a kiss against their shoulder, “Why’s your heart rate going up?”

“Ugh,” They sighed. “I hate that you can hear that.”

“Why’s that herbivore?” Leona’s hand drifted, until he could swipe the hair away from their nape. He learned that they were especially reactive when he kissed their neck. He pressed his lips against their skin, smirking as he heard their heart rate speed up, “Kinda cute that you do that.”

Yuu shifted until they were facing him, a frown on their face, “If you want to kiss me, you should just ask Leona.”

“You were busy,” He murmured, though he didn’t hesitate to close the gap of space between them.

“If you asked me to, I would’ve put down my phone earlier,” They said, their breaths sounding a bit short as Leona’s nose brushed against theirs.

“You’re so in love with me, aren’t you?” Leona drawled, suppressing a laugh at their expression.

Instead of saying anything, they leaned forward and pecked his lips. Something must’ve shown on his face, because they grinned, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

And then Leona couldn’t hold it any longer. He leaned in, their arms readily wrapping around him as they kissed. Leona couldn’t hide his impatience as he licked into their mouth, the startled noise they made turning his rationality into mush. He never thought he would ever have such greed for another person before. But this… Their hand that was buried in his hair tightened and he tilted his head further, their noses brushing when—

BRIIING—!

Leona flinched back at the obnoxious ringtone. He could see Yuu trying to catch their breath, blinking a few times to gather their bearings. Did he really have to answer the phone?

“Answer it,” They said gently. He pecked their cheek before pulling back. He found his phone on the table, the name flashing on the screen making him roll his eyes.

Meddlesome Falena

He looked over his shoulder, “It’s Cheka. Are you ready yet?” They raked their hand through their hair, the strands falling messily around their face as they gave him a thumbs up. Dammit…they were unfairly pretty at times.

And as Leona internally cursed, he pressed the 'answer call’ button.

v. cheka (+ family)

“Hello? Hello! Papa, I can’t see Ojitan, I can only see black!” The cheerful voice that rang out made Yuu chuckle slightly.

Leona seemed to hesitate before opening the camera, “That’s because I haven’t opened my camera yet, brat.”

“OJITAN!” The squeal that Cheka let out was quite frankly earshattering. They winced before moving into frame. “Oh! Huh? Yuu-tan! Yuu-tan’s here too!”

They answered Cheka’s enthusiastic waves with a greeting of their own, “Good to see you too, little lion.”

“How come Yuu-tan is here already?” Cheka wasn’t the best camera man. They were getting a very interesting angle of Cheka’s chin and shoulder. 

“Uh…” Yuu trailed off, glancing at Leona.

“Who cares?” Leona grumbled. “Why did you call?”

But Cheka didn’t seem interested in knowing anymore, “Papa! Look, Yuu-tan’s here too.” Yuu immediately straightened their posture, while Leona took this time to yawn.

“Alright, alright,” They could see the camera shake before light flooded the screen. Falena was now proping the camera up, a colorful tapestry behind him as he held Cheka in his lap. “Hello brother. And Yuu-san too! This is perfect, hold on a second—“

“Papa’s calling Mama over,” Cheka helpfully added as Falena turned to talk to someone off camera. “Mama was very interested in what we did.”

“Tch,” Leona said, looking like he swallowed a particularly bitter medicine. Maybe he didn’t have the best relationship with his sister…?

“Do you not like the queen?” Yuu asked quietly.

“No,” Leona answered, albeit a bit reluctantly. "If she went asking that means that she already figured it out.”

“Figured what out?”

Leona leaned against their shoulder, “Wait and see.”

They gulped as another figure entered the camera’s view. An intimidating beastwoman traditional garb swathing her in colorful fabrics. She was a lioness beastman, they noted, matching Falena almost perfectly in her regal appearance. For a moment there was silence across the line.

And then a smile cracked on her face, “So. Who was the one who confessed first?” What? Falena seemed to echo their sentiment, his expression shifting from confused to realization to shock.

While Yuu was still in shock, Leona volunteered a hand, “I did.”

They sputtered, “You— You proposed at first.”

“Hmm… You were braver than Falena, then,” She tilted a head toward her husband. “It took him a whole three years to actually propose.”

“Oh gods above,” Falena muttered, still out of his mind. “Leona’s engaged? He…my baby brother…” It seemed that it didn’t take much for Falena to be shocked.

“We’re dating. Da-ting,” Leona emphasized each syllable like he was talking to a child. “The proposal was a gimmick.”

Now Yuu snorted, “You seemed to be seriously considering it before.”

“Yay!” The loud shout disturbed the calm atmosphere. It was clear that they had all forgotten that Cheka was in attendance. He swung his arms around, pumping his tiny fists in the air, “Yuu-tan and Ojitan are getting married!”

“Uh…Cheka,” Falena said tentatively. “That’s not—“

“Well before that, they would need to visit the Savanna, right, m’toto?” The queen seemed to be seriously thinking about it. Wasn’t it…a bit fast? “I for one, would like to get to know you first.”

Cheka seemed to agree, nodding furiously, “I’m gonna take Yuu-tan to all my favorite spots!” 

“Wait, we’re not actually engaged,” Yuu laughed nervously. This development was not what they were anticipating. How were they supposed to know that the Queen would be this interested in Leona’s partner?

But Leona didn’t seem phased, “I’ll bring them the next time we have vacation.”

“Leona??” They glanced at their boyfriend before looking at the screen. “Why are you going along with this?”

“Cuz,” Leona grinned at them mischievously. “We can’t have you running away from me, can we?”

“Yup!” Cheka chimed in. “Yuu-tan’s family now!”

Yuu had a feeling that they didn’t quite understand what they were getting into when they dated Leona. And now they were suffering the consequences. But well…

A vacation in Sunset Savanna didn’t sound bad. Plus they would be sponsored by the Royal Family, and they could bring Grim along. And Leona would be there.

It was a fitting end, perhaps. They started this vacation wondering about families, having not remembered their own. And it seemed now that winter was over, they were heading into spring with a brand new family.

Their friends. Crowley and the teachers. And now Leona and Cheka.

Maybe this family they had gathered wasn’t such a bad thing afterall. Yuu squeezed at Leona's hand lightly. And Leona nudged them with his elbow in return, giving them a smirk.

It was a fitting end indeed.

and…that’s a wrap !! congratulations for getting to the end of the baby it’s cold outside series !!

it’s kind of a bittersweet thing when things end, but i decided to look at it in a positive way, because finally leonayuu's story is out there for everyone to enjoy ^^

(plus, i guess now everyone can look forward to the other leonayuu brainrot fics i’ve written >:D)

thank you for reading until this far, and i hope that you’ve enjoyed your journey :> if you’d like to read more of my writing, please check out my masterlist <3

[ prev chapter | series post ]

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Lol so @buckhastwohands has asked me to ask myself this so 😂

Okay, new ask game! Top three dates you'd love to see Buck and Tommy go on 🥰

So, uh, I guess I'm doing my own ask game? 😂 Thank you so much for tagging me in 🥰

Flying lessons. I want to see Buck excitedly studying up on piloting in his spare time during his shift. I want to see Buck and Tommy excitedly infodump at each other about flying and what they will do during the lesson. I want Buck to do his best to be the best student Tommy ever had (even if Buck is the only student Tommy's ever had). I want Tommy to be impressed by how good Buck is from the jump. I want Buck to be impressed by how amazing Tommy is at flying in general. They're both into competency and they're both excited to have these long periods of time together alone in a helicopter. They just hope they don't get too distracted with one another 😂

I feel like they would both be zoo people. "I Go to the Zoo" vibes, but it's more like they've both had times of intense loneliness; had found themselves gravitating to the zoo. So much so that they both have people they know there; they have connections; probably the same connections, as they'd find out when they go on the date. And they both get really happy and excited to share a night at the zoo with each other with the help of those connections, visiting their favorite animals and getting lost in the happiness the other has at the zoo.

Cooking together at Tommy's home. Buck shows up with all the supplies and equipment they'll need for the recipe, and while Tommy's a little overwhelmed and it's one of the few times he's more fumbly than cool, well, he's excited to do something Buck likes to do. He's excited to learn from Buck too. Buck gives Tommy pointers and it's cute and intimate and wonderful. They make one of Bobby's best recipes, and it's complicated, but well worth making together. They finish the night watching a romcom (they're currently working through a list of them). They head to bed together afterward.

[holylulusworld]

Cookies

Summary: Cookies make everything better.

Square filled for @anyfandomfluffbingo: Square 5: Free space - Sharing food

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, implied bad date

“Whatcha doing, sweetheart?“ Dean strolls into the library, grinning from ear to ear. He’s carrying two paper bags filled with his favorite poison. Booze, sex magazines, and fatty food. “Oh…” He licks his lips. “COOKIES!”

He inhales deeply, almost purring. His mouth waters when he catches the scent of your freshly baked cookies.

“Dean, you are drooling.” You grin. “What did you buy?”

“Can I have one?” Dean places the bags on the table. He steals one of your cookies, immediately feasting on it. “Damn, that’s the best cookie I ever ate. Why did you bake them? Is it a special occasion?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you huff, and take another bite of your cookie. “My mom always said cookies make everything better. I didn’t want to get upset with that douchebag asking me out, and decided it’s better to bake cookies.”

“I’m not complaining,” Dean munches another cookie. “But who do you want me to kill? Give me that bastard’s name and I’ll break his face.” 

“How do you wanna know it’s a guy?” You smirk as Dean opens his mouth. He licks his lips, swallows thickly, and goes back to eating cookies. If he tells you what’s on his mind, you’ll strangle him. “Dirty man!” You scold, knowing Dean is confusing porn with reality again. 

“It as a dude…right?” He dips his head. His Adam’s apple bobbles, and he rubs his hand over his crotch. “Or was it a pretty dame?”

You giggle at Dean’s hopeful expression. “You are a fucking perv, Winchester! Even if it was a girl, you are not invited to watch.”

“But…” Dean bites his tongue. “Why the cookies?” He asks.

“If I’m mad, or sad,” you sigh deeply, “I bake. We only had the ingredients for cookies. I would’ve baked a pie but…”

“PIE? Wait…Did you want to bake a pie? Why didn’t you do it? Where is my pie?” Dean stares at you, looking offended as you didn’t make pie instead of cookies.

“I didn’t have the ingredients for pie!“ You point out. “We need to restock first.”

“What do you need?” He grabs the next best book and a pencil. “Let me write it down. I’ll get the ingredients and you can make my pie.”

“Dean,” you snicker as he expectantly looks at you. “We can’t use the book! Sammy will get mad and…uh…I need to check on my recipes first.”

“Recipes,” he nods thoughtfully. “Alright. We will bring the food and cookies to the Dean Cave. You’ll get your recipes, and we will write down what Sammy needs to buy.”

“Dean.”

“Yeah?” He looks at the remaining cookies.

“Nothing.” You don’t have the heart to tell Dean you’re not in the mood to make pie too. “We can make the pie tomorrow. I've got two more baking trays of cookies left.”

“Two. More. Trays.” Dean’s eyes widen. “I’ll be right back…”

“Apple pie. Pecan pie. Cherry pie,” Dean thumbs through your receipt book. “Hmm…we will start with cherry pie. Next is pecan and then we will go for some good all apple pie.”

“Dean…” You watch your friend munch on your cookies while reading another recipe. “What about blueberry.”

“Oh, yeah. We will make blueberry pie too,” he hums. “Do you want to watch a movie or something? I thought about Caddy-“

“Caddyshack!” You end Dean's line. “A classic.”

He slams your receipt book shut and looks at you. “Tomorrow we will make some pie.”

Dean gets comfortable on the sofa, patting the spot next to him. You scoot closer and rest your head in his lap. “Caddyshack it is.”

“So…who was the douche making you sad and do you want me to kill him?”

Tags in reblog.

[nightlyrequiem]

Be Still My Heart

Chapter 7- Conferences and Wine

Masterlist AO3

New Chapter Every Saturday

You're the best in the meth industry but a new product suddenly pops up. You and your boss, Valeria, must figure out who is making it so you can take back the market. All the while tension is building between the two of you.

A/N: I don't like wine. I don't care much for alcohol in general. I like to keep Reader as blank as possible so people can relate to them but sometimes I need to assign them hobbies and personalities, so apologies if you don't enjoy running and analyzing things!

Tags/Warnings: Illegal Substances, Boss Employee Relationship, Angst, Some Hurt/Comfort, Violence, Manipulation, Suggestive Themes, Smut (But Only in CH20.), Dual POV

"Hey, Sorry I couldn't-"

You walk right past Corra as she tries to speak to you. Eyes narrowed and only seeing the path ahead. A path without backstabbing bitches. It's been a few weeks since her return and you've done a good job at avoiding her so far. Not even wanting to see her face. She never got the chance to humiliate you but the fact that you said yes to a date in the first place is embarrassing. You have somewhere to be, anyway.

One of the newer grunts walks down the hall towards you. Instead of moving out of his way like you usually would - like he expects of you - you continue on your designated path. Tensing your arm in anticipation. His eyes flash with surprise as you slam into his shoulder.

"Watch where you're going." You snap at him. You're still reeling from the betrayal, and your anger is turning you mean. Well, you reflect, maybe you should be mean. What else have they been doing behind your back? You're weak, and they can smell it.

You broodily stride towards Valeria's office, head and chin raised. You're going to discuss the success of the sugar meth. You have to mentally psyche yourself up for this. That cruel, taunting voice at the back of your head mocks you. Deciding that you failed again without even hearing the news. You tell it to shut up. You reach the wooden door and pull it open without knocking, stepping inside the room. Valeria, Diego, and one of her drug runners are sat around casually.

"Glad you finally decided to join us." Diego remarks dryly. "Try to show up even later next time."

You feel a spike of raw hatred. He was in on it. Looked you in the face multiple times knowing what was happening. "It's only by ten minutes." You reply sharply. Never mind the fact that you've been punctual every other time.

Valeria gestures to a seat next to her and you sit down. Feeling more comfortable near her.

"Tell us how it went." She demands, looking at the dealer.

"A didn't sell that well, no one wanted more, it's a similar story with C, but B sold and even had people coming back for more." He says. "It's still not selling as much as that other crystal. But I think it's getting us back some of our clientele."

You nod, suppressing a smile. Elated and relieved by the good news.

"Good." Valeria replies, leaning back and spreading her legs to get comfortable. She looks at you, a calculating look crossing her features. "If you tweaked the… recipe then maybe it can outsell the other stuff."

You're not sure if that's the way to go.

"How much is it being sold for? The sugar meth." You ask curiously. An idea forming.

"Uh, three-hundred forty-six pesos per gram." One of the dealers reply.

"And the other stuff?" You prod.

"Two-hundred seven per gram." He says, scratching his chin. You look at Valeria, completely ignoring Diego.

"I think we should price match it to the super meth." You say bluntly. Before Valeria can even reply, Diego scoffs.

"Are you serious?" He asks, lips curling into a smile. "'Price match'? This isn't a supermarket, we'd lose money." He says dismissively.

You clench your jaw and ignore Diego's words, he's not the one you have to convince.

Valeria furrows her brows. "… You think that if we lowered the price more people would buy it." She says. "I think that could work."

"We're going to do that?" Diego asks, clearly skeptical. "Patrona, think about this, is that really a good idea?"

You know she's going to scowl before she even does. Brows lowering with irritation. "Quiet." She snaps. "You're not here to second guess me. Do you think I don't know what I'm doing?" She shakes her head. "Idiot."

You also glare at Diego. Valeria knew Diego longer, trusted him enough to run her cartel, and yet she sided with you over him. He makes eye contact with you, and you look away for a second. Flustered slightly.

"I'm just saying, I don't think she knows what she's talking about." He says quietly, trying to soothe Valeria's frayed nerves. You dig your nails into your palms. "Shut the hell up." You snap impulsively, the words spilling from your lips. "Focus on growing some hair before you talk shit. I'm not going to sit here and let a man with a goatee-" You sneer. "-try to shut me down."

The dealer shifts uncomfortably.

"Who the hell do you think you're talking to?" Diego stands aggressively. Making you a little nervous.

"An oaf." You retort, despite being nervous.

Diego takes a step towards but is stopped by Valeria.

"Sit down." She growls. "You're not a child unable to ignore schoolyard taunts."

Diego reluctantly sits back down. Stiff with anger. His hand hovers over his glock threateningly.

"So we're going to lower the price?" The dealer asks.

"Yes." Valeria says sternly. Looking at Deigo as if willing him to even try to contradict her. He doesn't. He's learned his lesson and keeps his gaze averted. "Now get out, I have shit to do."

It's like everyone can't get out of the room fast enough. Just as you step foot through the door Valeria calls your name, halting you in your tracks.

"Have a drink with me." She says. Beckoning you closer. Her invite catches you by surprise, but you don't decline. You walk closer and hover near her awkwardly. She gestures towards the chair next to her and stands, opening up a cupboard and looking over a collection of wine.

"I thought you had 'shit' to do?"

"Yes, like drink. Red or white?" She asks you over her shoulder, voice low.

"Um, doesn't matter to me." You answer. Valeria pulls out a bottle of red. Selecting two tall glasses to drink from. She blows into them, clearing out the dust. Valeria sits down next to you.

"I haven't had the time to sit and have a glass of wine in a while." She sighs. Setting the bottle and glasses on the table. She spares you a glance before pouring you and her a glass each. a droplet of the dark red liquid runs down the side of her glass. She collects it with a finger and brings it to her lips.

Valeria hands you your glass and raises her own in cheers before taking a sip.

"Good job." She praises. For all your bravado earlier, you suddenly don't feel very deserving of it.

"Thank you." You smile, taking a sip of your own drink. There's a long silence settling between you two. Valeria regards you, head tilted to the right.

"What do you do when you're not cooking meth for me?" She asks, watching intently. Valeria always has this… lilt to her voice. Like she's always mocking whoever she's speaking to you. You've come to learn that she just sounds like that.

"I like to run." You murmur. Valeria raises a brow at that and crosses one leg over the other.

"Really? Never took you for the athletic type…" She hums, eyes flickering over your body.

"I'm not really, cardio is good for you. Thirty minutes a day can reduce the risk of a heart attack." You explain.

"But do you like running?" She presses. Leaning forward and swirling her drink.

You think about it. About the burn in your throat and lungs, the panting.

"I suppose I do." Your head is so clear when you run. Even the burn feels good after awhile.

"Mhm." Valeria sips her wine. "Is running all you do?" Her voice is teasing.

"Well… I like to write essays… just analyzing stuff I'm interested in, like movies or other topics." You smile awkwardly. Valeria huffs a laugh.

"You enjoy writing essays?" She says disbelievingly. "I'm sure your languages teachers must have loved you."

Your smile softens. "Not when it came to writing formal papers." You shake your head. Of course, nobody finds it easy to write about topics they don't care about. "What about you?" You ask.

"I didn't care much for essays." Valeria flicks her wrist with distaste.

"No, I meant what do you do when you're not running a cartel?" You clarify. What would someone like Valeria enjoy doing?

She pauses and finishes her glass.

"I enjoy smoking good weed." She says. "I like to get high, then paint."

You feel surprised that she does something so… tame. "Are you any good?"

"Sometimes." She shrugs. Valeria leans back, eyes half lidded. "I like to paint people. Capture their faces on a canvas."

You finish your own glass and set it on the table, declining her offer for another cup. You have to drive home. "Painting is a good hobby, I like to analyze paintings as well, my favourites are Jean-Michel Basquiat's pieces."

"Haven't heard of him, painting is more of a casual hobby to me." She says. "My works don't have stories behind them but you're welcome to come over sometime and create one for them. Maybe I could paint you and add your face to my collection."

Her response catches you off guard. It sounds like a genuine invite.

"I'll keep it in mind."

[yunarim]

「 ₊ ❤️‍🩹 dorm leaders with natasha-like reader 」

── ⋯ where's a doctor when you need one? ✧ rus ver (original) : here! ✧ characters : dorm leaders ✧ tags : female reader (she/her pronouns), fluff, slight mentions of injuries, reader kinda works part-time at NRC as a nurse, reader wields a gun but no violence mentioned (she just uses it canonically but i left only the part that she only has it in her property) ✧ note : might edit this later since i'm not quite satisfied with my own translation from rus but that's it for now

「 Riddle Rosehearts 」 ⏤ ⊹ Probably encountering such a friendly person for the first ever time during his whole lifespan.

⏤ ⊹ Perplexed by your behavior enough to actually spend some time to try figuring out what is it that motivates you to act so selflessly. There is no way you ask him whether he feels okay everyday just out of your free will? Right?..

⏤ ⊹ It's amazing how patient you are being with Ace and Deuce, given they can be pretty much to handle. 

⏤ ⊹ Realizes you are a ray of light in a dark realm. Honestly, is it even legal for you to be in the NRC among them, such ... malicious creatures?

⏤ ⊹ Once you told him that there are many people in the NRC who need your support. He did not even believe you at first, dismissively suggesting that you are deliberately shielding yourself in front of others in order to earn public recognition.

⏤ ⊹ Being the only girl and not having magical abilities in the college dedicated for gifted magicians... He wondered how you felt the moment you got here.

⏤ ⊹ His opinion changed dramatically the moment Ace and Deuce casually mentioned that after going to the mines to restore that ridiculously expensive chandelier, the one who cured their injures was none other than you. 

⏤ ⊹ Actually was strictly against of you doing anything medicine-related due to the fact he doesn’t even know you have a diploma, so that making you certified specialist.

⏤ ⊹ You: I had my own clinic in my world.

⏤ ⊹ Riddle: I beg your pardon?

⏤ ⊹ Apparently, that one nurse NRC had is fired by now PLEASE–

⏤ ⊹ Riddle wants to look up to you in order to be just as collected and patient as you are.

⏤ ⊹ During all the time you spend at NRC he never ceases to be amazed at how unwaveringly confident you are when some unexpectedly difficult situations occur, but at the same time you never lose your humanity and concern for others.

⏤ ⊹ Ready to take care of you when you forget to do it yourself – you are also a living human being who needs rest and care.

⏤ ⊹ He is not very good at expressing his emotions, so you don’t expect obvious actions and words from him, but get ready for the fact that he will often drop by (apparently) your infirmary with a pinkish hue on his cheeks, saying "Good afternoon ... Y-You're not breaking any rules, are you? Fine then... I tried to make tea according to your recipe, can you check if it's okay...?"

⏤ ⊹ You are always present as a nurse during when unbirthday parties are being hold in case someone gets sunstroke or gets hurt on rose thorns.

⏤ ⊹ If suddenly you know how to use this huge gun... how do you even lift it, it looks like it weighs three times more than you yourself?!

⏤ ⊹ Is this what they call alternative medicine?..

⏤ ⊹ Overall he sees you as an extremely caring mother figure ahem ergh uh older sister.

「 Leona Kingscholar 」

⏤ ⊹ The fact that you are a woman automatically sets you apart from these uncouth students.

⏤ ⊹ Before you have time to say anything, let alone even do anything, he sees the accumulated life experience in your eyes. Those eyes can’t lie.

⏤ ⊹ Actually, no one expects it but he treats you with an enormous amount of respect from the very beginning. It took Ruggie a few days to get used to the fact that Leona doesn't behave as he pleases when he sees you.

⏤ ⊹ And when you stumbled upon him and said that deep sound sleep is good for his health he even thought that maybe you were some sort of an angel.

⏤ ⊹ Sadly, happiness didn’t last long.

⏤ ⊹ You noticed that he sleeps way too much, and that time you started lamenting that excessive sleep can harm his brain activity and blah-blah-blah...

⏤ ⊹ However, you still found yourself carrying an orthopedic pillow every time you go to the botanical garden in order to collect some herbs, so you leave the pillow near the bench Leona usually sleeps on.

⏤ ⊹ In case you stumble upon a sleeping Leona while walking through the garden, you try to adjust his sleeping position so that his neck won’t hurt when he wakes up, and during these moments he simply tries to hug you or pull you onto his lap. 

⏤ ⊹ You see him as a big capricious kitten mainly but you still have a lot of work to do, so you carefully put him back and whisper something gentle with your soothing voice.

⏤ ⊹ Mentally chuckles smugly every time you make a very subtle remark about the political system in Afterglow Savannah (the only fact he trusts you enough to explain something about throne succession in his family is quite amazing itself).

⏤ ⊹ You won't notice it outwardly, but he is extremely grateful to you for the way you spend time with Cheka and tell him interesting stories about your world.

⏤ ⊹ He is sincerely proud of you. You are a wise, caring and patient woman. He doesn't even want to joke around with you as he usually does with everyone around him. You are too amazing.

⏤ ⊹ In case you use a gun... Seriously, do you have an endless facts list to surprise him with?

⏤ ⊹ Doesn't show it, but is concerned if it's hard for you to hold this colossus gun in your hands.

「 Azul Ashengrotto 」

⏤ ⊹ Truthfully speaking, he asked Jade and Floyd a couple of times if they can distract you so that you wouldn't sneak into his office and start lamenting how hard he works and how he needs to take a break.

⏤ ⊹ He was surprised that you were extremely attentive when he tried to make a shady deal with you, according to which you could potentially become a nurse in Mostro Lounge.

⏤ ⊹ Your attentiveness actually comes from the need to measure dosages extremely accurately, that he could understand, but he wasn’t prepared for the fact you would read the shady part written in a tiny font at the bottom of the document with the same meticulousness.

⏤ ⊹ After your refusal to work for him, the part about how your conversation turned into a discussion of the cost of renting the premises and how much Crowley screwed everything up remains unsolved...

⏤ ⊹ Why Azul ended up being the one fixing all the mess Crowley caused in the first place? How insanely hard it was to start running a business with instant losses, and not to mention!–

⏤ ⊹ What do you mean you made sea buckthorn tea.

⏤ ⊹ Actually Azul can’t even realize what does he feel every time he accepts your care. He believes he is unworthy of your kindness, but as a result he clings to it like a lifeline.

⏤ ⊹ He doesn't remember when was the last time in his life he felt so... valid? Has he ever been appreciated the way he is now?

⏤ ⊹ At first he assumed that your kindness extends to everyone indiscriminately, but got incredibly surprised when he realized that perhaps you pay a little more attention to him than to the others?..

⏤ ⊹ And you are definitely not stupid to waste your nerves on just, uh, anyone.

⏤ ⊹ Jade and Floyd are constantly mess with him that upon NRC graduation Azul should definitely lure you to work with them.

⏤ ⊹ In case you know how to wield that giant cannon... Uhm so care to get married after graduation?

⏤ ⊹ You're so cool, it's just unbelievable, please make him a soothing tea before his heart breaks his ribs and jumps out of his chest, alright?

「 Kalim Al-Asim 」

⏤ ⊹ Finally someone who matches his energy!

⏤ ⊹Kalim is the embodiment of sunshine, while you behave more in a patient way.

⏤ ⊹ But overall you two are NRC’s brightest sun rays.

⏤ ⊹ Kalim is constantly dropping by the infirmary to bring you something to eat (Jamil actually played crucial role in cooking all those things Kalim brought but still consider Kalim wasn’t doing nothing!! He spent sleepless nights trying to master making your favorite dish, so he could get you something to eat anytime you would want to!).

⏤ ⊹ You!! You are so tender with kids around you!! You are so amazing!!

⏤ ⊹ A couple of times he saw you outside the NRC telling different stories about your world to the kids in the park.

⏤ ⊹ Next moment you were already creating your own fairytales, completely dissolved in that natural coziness. 

⏤ ⊹ He gets amazed every time he spots you sorting herbs in the infirmary. How could you remember so many different names and medicine properties?..

⏤ ⊹ Consider yourself famous in his family, given how often he tells little facts about you during phone calls. Be also prepared for the fact that if you happen to go visiting his family you’ll be accepted as an Al-Asim new family member.

⏤ ⊹ The result: you help Kalim's parents with chores in the kitchen and with cleaning, not afraid of doing extra work at all.

⏤ ⊹ Sometimes you forget that Kalim is actually not a child anymore, and Jamil reminds you that you shouldn't spoil him too much, but you can't help but running your fingers through his tousled hair during rare breaks you have a meal or just go for a walk to sort your thoughts.

⏤ ⊹ Once he saw how tired you seemed after having a long work day and ran up to you, asking if everything was okay.

⏤ ⊹ You just smiled softly, saying that you were fine, it’s just after another overblot happens the wounds are always much more serious than minor abrasions and cuts.

⏤ ⊹ Kalim gently hugged you, declaring that this hug would serve as an energy boost for today.

⏤ ⊹ From that day on, Kalim asks Jamil to wake him up much earlier than he usually does in order to run into your office and give you a reassuring hug (he returns to bed for another twenty minutes sleeping right after, but let’s omit this okay-)

⏤ ⊹ Surprisingly, you feel better indeed, but you always make sure to not leave such a nice gesture go unnoticed, giving Jamil your hand-made fruit marshmallow so he would give it to Kalim.

⏤ ⊹ Kalim: happy.

⏤ ⊹ Everyone: happy.

「 Vil Schoenheit 」

⏤ ⊹ If you work part-time at the NRC infirmary, then he’s ready to go to Crowley to figure it out so that you get an immediate salary increase.

⏤ ⊹ He knows how important medical knowledge is, and yours is on another level.

⏤ ⊹ Would you like to join his agency? Or maybe even start developing your own brand of cosmetics, given how well-read you are and how well-versed you are in herbs.

⏤ ⊹ He wasn’t insisting when you refused but surprisingly for himself got a little upset.

⏤ ⊹ However this illusory feeling quickly left him as soon as you suggested making a few adjustments to his own cosmetics, and advised a mixture of herbs that could strengthen the effect obtained from Vil's cosmetics.

⏤ ⊹ If you have joint potionology classes he always tries to cooperate with you.

⏤ ⊹Highly respects such an incredible woman like you. Please consider it requires A LOT to earn the praise from the Vil Schoenheit himself, so you’re quite privileged.

⏤ ⊹ Always ready to din common sense in your enviers’s heads. How can anyone possibly believe that you are working for some imaginary benefit?

⏤ ⊹ A woman with such caring touches and boundless attention to her patients simply can’t be a fake, aiming for ephemeral titles or unwanted recognition.

⏤ ⊹ There are no ulterior motives in the way you sincerely offer Vil a few remedies to increase stress resistance and stimulate concentration during work.

⏤ ⊹ To some extent, he doesn’t fully understand why are you being so nice and selfless, but he never argues with you. He's not an idiot to even say anything against you (why would he though? You’re stunning).

⏤ ⊹ Often comes to you for your advice since he genuinely values everything you say.

⏤ ⊹ His words won’t help or encourage your if you suddenly find yourself in a difficult situation or just get tired at the end of the working day. However, he is the person who will convince you that you just need a proper rest. Vil definitely makes you tea, helps you do all night skin routine and makes sure that you fall asleep peacefully.

⏤ ⊹ Your cannon looks absolutely intimidating, maybe it's even better that you haven't had a chance to use it anywhere except for crushing especially hard and large-sized reagents in the process of making potions.

「 Idia Shroud 」

⏤ ⊹ Girl, what anime did you isekai from?

⏤ ⊹ To be honest Idia was simply scared when he saw you.

⏤ ⊹ He has never come across such piercingly sincere and caring person alive. Idia doesn't understand why you care about him so much in the first place.

⏤ ⊹ It's not like he grew up surrounded by love and care to realize how to accept such a sudden kindness.

⏤ ⊹ How did you even manage to stumble upon him when he literally does not go beyond his room?

⏤ ⊹ Ah, that's right... As soon as he thoughtlessly tried to pat Lucius, you noticed him on your way to the infirmary.

⏤ ⊹ He thought you were taunting him when he found a pack of kitten stickers on his bag, along with a small note that said “If you have time, stop by the infirmary, I would like to give you tea leaves that I dried myself. I heard your brother makes great tea.”

⏤ ⊹ NO WAY HE WOULD EVER–

⏤ ⊹ That day Ortho accompanied Idia straight to the infirmary, where he left his brother, humming some catchy pop song, and call it a day. The tips of his hair blazed with a delicate pink, and only the mischievous sparks flying off smoldered with ardent scarlet.

⏤ ⊹ For the first time he saw someone so mesmerized by his hair. Sure thing he stood out noticeably among people with this amusing feature of his, but he observed such a childishly genuine interest without a bit of malicious intent perhaps for the first time in his life.

⏤ ⊹ After a few more ‘trips’ to your infirmary, he came to conclusion that you are incredibly enduring. People usually either ignore him or make fun of him.

⏤ ⊹ You though, you never rush him, never force reactions out of him.

⏤ ⊹ Fortunately for him, the fact that you never force him to do anything against his will helps him demonstrate his gratitude slowly, but quite effectively.

⏤ ⊹ If you have any problems with the equipment, consider that they are no more, because Idia is always ready to fix anything or improve your equipment out of his own curiosity he got while working with you.

⏤ ⊹ At first when you tried to fix his completely shattered sleep schedule he resisted capriciously as if being an annoyed child.

⏤ ⊹ But you are not a simple woman to just leave it like that.

⏤ ⊹ No kitten stickers until he sleeps at least seven hours.

⏤ ⊹ It doesn't matter at all that Idia is rich enough to buy at least a whole factory for the production of those stickers–

⏤ ⊹ Now your so-called quarrels have become a kind of a local joke between you two.

⏤ ⊹ At first he got scared when he saw your cannon, but now he just wants to upgrade it, even though you insist that you won't shoot it without a need (and believe me YOU won’t ever use it on people bc why would you even do that okay?).

「 Malleus Draconia 」

⏤ ⊹ First, the very fact that you are not afraid of him is truly amazing.

⏤ ⊹ Second, just how discerning you are, given you straight up went asking him whether his horns hurt when he sleeps?

⏤ ⊹ You are extremely interested in how his body works from a medical point of view, since its physiological characteristics are very different from your understanding of how the human body works. However, Malleus is not a human at all, so your curiosity is understandable.

⏤ ⊹ People are usually horrified by him, or prefer to dissolve in contempt radiating from them. Malleus just chuckles, but he gets puzzled when he's talking to you.

⏤ ⊹ He doesn't quite understand how to respond to such a delicate display of genuine concern, but you're not rushing him anywhere, just asking him to take care of himself a little more.

⏤ ⊹ Once you asked him what could save him if the wounds would be extremely severe.

⏤ ⊹ Maybe he was too serious for answering ‘Your voice would be the best remedy for me’.

⏤ ⊹ He had to consult with Lilia what to do when something aching unbearably right there in his chest, and yet you smile softly at his answer and say that his reply is quite reasonable due to the fact that he is not a human being.

⏤ ⊹ Excellent, now you think that ordinary medicines will not help him (which is also true, but still), because he does not belong to the human race.

⏤ ⊹ However, he is in no hurry. If you’re being patient, then he’s enormously enduring. Why hurry when you have all the time in the whole dimension?..

⏤ ⊹ Will you be happy if he helps you heal all the people in the universe?

⏤ ⊹ Yes, that's right, it's impossible... And yet you selflessly devote yourself to your work, endowing everyone with a gentle smile.

⏤ ⊹ You two often talk about the differences between your worlds while your patients are sleeping.

⏤ ⊹ He learns how you make tea just by looking at your elegant light movements. Malleus is generally very observant, so his eyes are always focused on you. If he continues glancing at you like that, maybe the other students you look after will start spreading rumors that there is something going on between you two.

⏤ ⊹ Malleus is actually absolutely mesmerized by your voice and during those rare days when you have the opportunity to have your time alone with him somewhere outside the infirmary, he asks you to sing anything you would like to.

⏤ ⊹ A lullaby from your world is perhaps the best thing he has ever heard in his entire lifespan.

⏤ ⊹ What an incredible woman you are.

⏤ ⊹ You even know how to wield a cannon. In fact, he wouldn't want to test your abilities and is even glad that you don't use it at all.

© yushiiae 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧.

[late-to-the-party-81]

Who vibes for Vibranium?

AN: Have a little short and sweet, sort of cracky Stucky sexual shenanigans story. Enjoy!

Beta’d by @metalbvcky but all errors are my fault.

Likes are loved, reblogs are golden

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Join my tag list here

Master list | Stucky Bingo Master List

Summary: Steve likes to be indulged. It's a good thing Bucky likes to indulge him. Even if he's a thieving little big brat sometimes.

Relationships: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

WC: <1k

CW: AU: Not Canon Compliant, teasing, suggestive dialogue, Super-Soldier sexy shenanigans, discussion of impact play, discussion of bondage, Steve Rogers is a little shit, Soft Top Bucky Barnes, Bratty Bottom Steve Rogers, Fade to Black.

Bingo Fills and Challenges:

@stuckybingo I4 - Vibranium

“Come on, Buck. It’ll be fun.” Bucky pulled a face at Steve’s wheedling tone. He wasn’t convinced.

“Fun? Just sounds like a recipe for disaster to me.”

Steve sidled up to him, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s waist, looking into his eyes and doing his best Little Shit ™ pout. “Don’t you miss being able to hold me down. Like really stop me from moving.” Steve nuzzled into Bucky’s neck and Bucky let out a huff. 

“I miss it,” Steve continued, letting his teeth scrape over Bucky’s throat. Bucky closed his eyes and tried to think of the Presidents of the United States. “I miss feeling all helpless under you.” Steve’s fingers slipped up under the back of Bucky’s shirt and started to draw light patterns over his skin, making him shiver. “One vibranium arm can only do so much and I can’t work out a way for you to use my shield to help.”

“Steve,” Bucky cautioned. “This isn’t really a conversation about informed consent if you’re trying to get my dick to make the decision and not my brain. It’s cheating.”

Steve raised his head with a grin. “Is it working though?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, knowing he’d already lost the fight. “You’re such a punk, you know that?”

“But I’m your punk, and you love me.”

“Unfortunately so,” Bucky agreed. “Now, if you wanna do this, first you gotta hand ‘em over.”

Steve let go of him and practically skipped across their apartment. How a 6”2’ supersoldier could move like that Bucky didn’t know, but he couldn’t say it wasn’t stimulating to watch. It was also kinda cute, the way that Steve was getting giddy at the thought of doing something ‘kinky’. 

As two queer guys who’d grown up in the 30’s, neither were strangers to things that were nowadays termed as kinky, but no matter how long they’d been together, and how many different things they’d done, Steve was always enthusiastic, as though it was his first time, every time. 

When Steve returned from his little sojourn into his study, he was practically vibrating - ha! - with energy and he passed over his new toy with a grin.

“Do I even wanna know where you got these from?” Bucky asked. Of course this was the question that made Steve look a little embarrassed. His neck flushed pink and his left hand came up to brush over the hair at the back of his head. 

“I - uh - may have found them in the cache of recovered HYDRA hardware that Fury keeps in the upstate warehouse.”

“Steve Rogers,” Bucky let out, teasingly. “Are you telling me that you - the great and righteous Captain America - stole these Vibranium handcuffs?”

Steve startled “No! Not stole. Just - umm - borrowed.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow and Steve had the good grace to look slightly cowed. “I mean - we might give them back?”

“If they help me beat your ass without struggling to keep you still they are definitely not going back,” Bucky retorted, failing to get the right tone of authority into his voice.

“You promise?” Steve asked slyly and Bucky shook his head in mild disbelief at his bratty boyfriend.

“The fucking audacity,” he said to no-one in particular, and then “Get in that bedroom, Rogers and strip. You’re getting ten for your cheek, and if you aren’t ready when I get in there, then it’s an extra ten.” 

“Oh no,” cried Steve with faux despair. “Whatever shall I do?”

“Nothing, if these work.” Bucky took a step closer, drawing himself up to his full height, despite that being two inches less than Steve’s. It had the desired effect though - science might have taken Steve out of his little body, but it hadn’t taken the memory of being in that little body out of Steve. Steve shrank down, now reacting to Bucky’s domineering aura. “You’ll do nothing except cry those sweet tears as I turn your ass red because you won’t be able to get away from me. You won’t be able to stop me. Now - do I have to tell you again? Get in there and strip.”

Steve turned, scurrying into the bedroom as fast as he could with his cock doing its best impression of a flagpole between his legs. 

Smiling to himself, Bucky looked at the cuffs, inspecting them and working out how they opened and closed. The last thing he wanted was for them to get stuck, even if the thought  of Stark being mentally scarred for life having to come and help remove them was amusing as hell.

“Time to see if these work,” he muttered to himself, before calling out “Ready or not, here I come.”

Over an hour later

“Yup,” Bucky said with a smile as he stretched out. “Those definitely work.”

Steve groaned and buried his head into Bucky’s side, while lying on his stomach. “My ass is on fire,” he complained.

Bucky sniggered. “Quit your whining, you big baby. You only have yourself to blame. And you’ll be all healed up in an hour. Two, tops.”

As Steve huffed against him and threw an arm across his stomach, Bucky picked up the cuffs from where he’d deposited them after removing them from Steve’s wrists. He turned them over in his hands, pondering.

“I wonder,” he said, “if we got a metal footboard whether these would magnetise strongly enough to it that I could use them to keep your legs apart…”

Steve let out a moan that wasn’t entirely one of despair. “Buck, let me recover before you start trying to turn me on again.”

With a smile still on his lips, Bucky leant over and places a kiss to the top of Steve’s sweaty head.

“Love you, punk.”

“Love you too, jerk.”

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @doasyoudesireandlive, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @crayongirl-linz, @mightstill, @nicoline1998enilocin, @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796

[the-golden-comet]

✨OC Interview Tag✨

Thank you for the tag, @just-emis-blog and @pluppsauthor ! 💖✨

Okay, lovelies: you want to see an ACTUAL cinnamon roll? Someone so sickeningly sweet it’ll rot your whole mouth out? Time to bring out the most wholesome goody goody I know: Tenshi, from Tenshito.

I found my concept sketches of him YEARS ago…oh boy he is DUE for a redesign 😰

@wyked-ao3 , heard you liked angels. You might like him too, @sunglasses-in-the-bentley . This dude is INCREDIBLY Pit-coded ✨

Okay, enough of that. Now that you’ve seen fluff incarnate, on with the interview~

Were you named after anyone?

Yes~! My name actually translates to “angel.” I have to thank my mom, Amaterasu, for that one!

When was the last time you cried?

I-I stepped on a bug yesterday, and it took thirty minutes for Ita to calm me down.

Do you have any kids?

Mmmmnope. I’m still young for a celestial. In human I’d be…20.

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

H-Huh? I don’t think I even know how to….

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

OH! Usually if they make me feel all warm and fuzzy to be around. Ita does that all the time! He’s so warm and nice….oh! And he beat up these two criminals the first night I crashed down in Hokkaido, so I know I’m safe with him 💖

What is your eye color?

A shocking blue!! I was given the gift of lightning like Raiden, but I’m…haha….s-still not quite sure how to use it. It makes Ita very nervous…

Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings!! Aaaaa, there was one time Ita turned on a scary movie and I couldn’t look up from his chest. I-I felt really embarrassed, but he was so kind about it. He let me snuggle up to him the rest of the night so I wouldn’t get nightmares. Funny, his whole face was so red….like a tomato! Haha….oh, I wonder if he wants me saying this….?

Any special talents?

Oh! I have my scepter! It can shoot a really cool lightning arc. I….may have caused a blackout in parts of Japan because of it….? D-Don’t tell my brothers….Mike will get FURIOUS….! I can also fly when I have my wings unfurled, but…for obvious reasons I can’t do that a lot, haha….~

Where were you born?

That part is still a mystery to me. I’m trying to find my mom for more answers, but it’s kind of hard to get in touch with a sun god…figures, huh?

Do you have any pets?

Umo!!! He’s my pet dove familiar. He’s actually how my brothers were able to send me letters, but he’s a good boy who didn’t tell them my location, nor did he let them put a tracker on him. I have seed for him whenever he visits, and if I can pull it off, we do a flight together 🕊️

What sort of sports do you play?

Uh….I don’t know, actually? Does flying count as a sport?

How tall are you?

164 centimeters~! ✨

What was your favorite subject in school?

Awww, I really didn’t like school, mainly because Mike was my teacher, and he’s STRICT. He made me learn all sorts of boring angel stuff like “don’t go to these dimensions” this or “don’t cross the rainbow bridge” that. However, I REALLY liked my Earth Studies. That’s…kind of the reason why I came here…heh.

What is your dream job?

OH!! Ita got me a part-time job working in a small library in Gaijin, and I LOVE it! It’s really quiet, but we get a little traffic since we’re next to a diner. When I’m not helping customers find books or sweeping the floor, my boss lets me read. There’s SO many cool things about Earth!! Did you know that you have separate cook books for jasmine rice and brown rice recipes? THAT’S AMAZING!!! ✨✨✨

Check your teeth for cavities. Tagging (no pressure): @autism-purgatory , @fortunatetragedy , @thatuselesshuman , @zackprincebooks , @pippinoftheshire , @finickyfelix , @justabigoldnerd , @lychhiker-writes , +open tag for whoever wants to join! ✨

[remuswriting]

DEPENDS, WHO'S ASKING; MIYA OSAMU

As far as first meetings go, fighting over udon noodles is not one you thought you'd ever have.

TAGS: Pre-Relationship; First Meetings; Meet-Cute; Canon Compliant; Second Person POV

WORD COUNT: 1,002 words

NOTES: Writing in second person is really not my thing, so hopefully it's good. I think this may be the only reader fic I've ever written where Y/N or L/N isn't used.  This is just a silly little thing I wrote over a year ago. I hope you enjoy.

It’s been a long day since the soccer team practiced later than usual. Interhigh Qualifiers are coming up, and your coach wants to make sure everyone is ready. You’re only a first year, so you aren’t on first string, which you don’t really mind. You have two more years, after all.

Practice being grueling and running late leaves you absolutely exhausted, but thankfully, you don’t have to worry about your parents being upset since they work late on Wednesday. This means you cook dinner for yourself, which you like doing. Trying out new recipes is something you tend to do on Wednesday, but you’re not sure if it’ll be a new recipe night. You’re not sure what you have to eat at home, so you decide you’ll just stop by the store on the way home. There’s a simple recipe you like to make whenever you’re tired, but you know you need a couple things.

Your phone vibrates in your bag, so you pull your bag up to have easier access to it, but moving your bag results in your phone falling deeper and deeper into it. So, you’re shoving your hand past your school supplies and bento box until you finally have a hold of it. You see a couple of people looking at you, and you wonder if it might have been easier if you had stopped to take it out instead of walking at the same time. It doesn’t matter now, especially since the store is already in view.

“Oh,” you say, seeing that it was your mom who texted you. Apparently, she left money on the counter for takeout. You look up at the store and decide you might as well get some groceries while you’re here.

To: Mom

From: You

>>At the store. Do we need anything?

A long list of things is the next thing she sends. You sigh as you walk into the store and grab a basket. This is the main store your family goes to, so you know where everything is without needing to think too much about it.

“Alright, all that’s left is udon noodles,” you mumble as you look over your mother’s text again. As you make your way to where those are, hoping they have them, since the store’s popularity has grown due to a store nearby being remodeled.

There’s someone else on the aisle, a guy also wearing an Inarizaki uniform. The dyed gray hair gives away who it is; Miya Osamu. You’ve never met Osamu since he’s a year older, and most sports clubs don’t talk to each other. The boys’ volleyball club has several annoying members, so your soccer teammates say it’s better just not talking to them.

You walk down the aisle and find he’s standing in front of what you need. After a minute of standing there, you gently tap his arm. He looks at you. “Can I help you?” he asks, annoyed, which understandably so. You’d be annoyed too.

“Uh, I was wonderin’ if ya could hand me some udon noodles,” you say, and he doesn’t say anything as he stares at you. You try not to fidget, but you’re so uncomfortable. People always said that Atsumu is the “scary” twin while Osamu is laid back. You’re disagreeing right now.

“No,” he says, and you furrow your brows.

“No?”

“No,” he says, and he holds up two packages of udon noodles. “They’re mine.”

You move your head to see that there aren’t any more udon noodles on the shelf. You look back at him and bite your lip as you let out a deep breath. “Do ya really need two?”

“Yeah,” he says as he puts them in his basket. “Even if I didn’t, I’d take ‘em anyway.”

“Are ya new to this store?” you ask, and he shakes his head.

“No, I’ve been comin’ here since I was a kid.”

You point at the noodles in his hand. “Then ya know that’s all they’ve got right now.” He just stares at you. “They won’t have any more until Tuesday.”

“That ain’t my problem,” he says, and you bite the inside of your cheek.

“Why’re ya bein’ an ass?” you ask, and you don’t know why you kept going. Maybe it’s because practice had been awful. Or maybe because your mom stressed wanting udon noodles. “Ya don’t need both of ‘em.”

“How do ya know that?” he asks, and you clench your jaw. “Maybe I need more than two and I’m settlin’ cause there’s no more.”

You roll your eyes. “I doubt that’s it.” It’s quiet as you two stare at each other. At this point, you can’t just back down. “I’ll pay you for it.”

Osamu blinks. “What?”

“I’ll pay you for the noodles.” You pull your wallet out of you bag far easier than you had pulled your phone out. “I’ve got the cash.”

“I’m not doin’ that,” he says, and you huff.

“Why not?”

“Cause I got here first.��

“Doesn’t mean ya’ve gotta be greedy!”

Osamu looks you over before shaking his head a little. “Ya know what? I’m just goin’ go. I hope ya get noodles next time.”

He turns and starts walking away. You clench your wallet in your hand. “I won’t forget this, Miya-senpai!”

He looks back at you with wide eyes. “You know who I am?”

You nod. “I also go to Inarizaki, and I’m not gonna forget this.”

“What’re ya gonna do?” he asks with an amused smirk, and you straighten your posture completely.

“I’m gonna buy all the udon noodles whenever I come here so you can’t have any of them!”

Osamu stares at you, shocking and not knowing how to respond, before chuckling slightly. You hate that he has a nice smile and laugh. “Good luck with that.”

He hurries down the aisle before you can say anything else. You throw your wallet on the ground as you grumble a little. Your teammates are right. Inarizaki boys’ volleyball club does have some annoying members.