#he literally even put on netflix for me because i must have seemed close to tears

[jattendschaton]

Locked myself out of my apartment today!! Amazing!!! I want to eat gravel!! Question: what can I do as a thank you to my neighbor for letting me use his phone and being nice to me while we waited for thirty minutes for someone to let me back in? That feels like a very particular kind of thank you

[navegandoaciegas]

1-2-3 Way

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader x Steve Rogers

Warnings: smut, bed sharing, there was only one bed???, loss of virginity, dom/sub undertones, dom!Steve, sub!reader, switch!Bucky, unprotected sex, praise, slight degradation, overstimulation, face fucking, fingering, slight spanking, edging, doggy style, aftercare.

Summary: There’s only one bed and you have to share it with your childhood friends Steve and Bucky.

A/N: Listen… there was only one bed is my favorite cheesy trope, I’m sorry. Thank you for the commission, @maryfloat , I hope you like this!!

It’s so clichè, the way that the receptionist offers you a tight lipped smile and an apology. There must have been an error with the reservation, maybe the server crashed or something, she says, you’ve booked one room, and that room has one bed only. Coincidentally, everyone’s in town at the same time as you, and the only hotel in the area is fully booked.

How unfortunate.

She hands you the keys whilst Bucky hauls your suitcase and his up the stairs, and Steve follows behind him. She eyes them warily and whispers to you, asks if you’re safe and comfortable, and apologises again for the inconvenience.

When Steve, ever the gentleman, proposes they sleep on the floor, you’re almost tempted to accept and thank him. They’re big and strong, and one night on the cold, hard floor won’t kill them.

You hate sharing beds anyways. It gets too warm with more than one body rolling around, and then someone hogs all the blankets, or kicks you in the shins, or elbows you in the ribs, and you can’t catch a break.

Instead you scoff and wave him dismissively. ‘I trust you guys more than I trust myself.’

And you do, really. You’ve known them since those awkward middle school days, where Bucky was chubby and covered in painful acne, and Steve was dangerously skinny and a foot shorter than you. You’ve fallen asleep on their shoulders on long road trips, occasionally napped on their legs in their dorm rooms, fallen asleep on Steve’s hospital bed when he was a frail kid and you and Bucky took turns visiting him.

You trust them, you really do, but still, sharing a tiny bed with them seems more intimate, definitely more wrong, than anything you’ve ever done.

It sends a weird signal down your stomach that your brain can’t quite interpret. You’re not anxious, but as you sit sandwiched between them, you can’t say you’re relaxed either.

Bucky sits to your right, computer perched on his lap, open on the Netflix account he pays for and Steve and you leech off of. He makes the most money with his waitressing job, the old ladies love tipping him for his flirty remarks and bright smiles, so it’s only fair.

Steve munches on a chalky protein bar to your right, a frown on his forehead as he chews with his mouth open and judges Bucky’s recommended section.

“You’re not making me watch another sci-fi, Barnes.”

“And you’re not forcing me through another Studio Ghibli movie, Rogers.”

“C’mon, at least those are relaxing-,”, “and cute,” you quip, intercepting Steve’s snack and taking a bite out of it just to spite him. He side eyes you, pinching your side as hard as he can.

“Oh? I forgot you were the ones paying for the account.”

“This is literal blackmail, holding the damn Netflix over our heads like that.”

“Not sure that blackmail is the word you’re looking for, but go off, bud.”

“Don’t smartmouth me.”

“Or what?”

They bicker like they’ve always done, and you’ve been friends with them long enough to have learnt how to drown out their voices when they fight.

Sometimes your friendship feels like it’s always been, playful, sibling like. They roughhouse you, you make fun of them. It’s familiar, warm, comforting.

No matter how bad school gets, no matter how uncertain your future seems, no matter how many times you get your heart broken, you know that Bucky, Steve and you will always be there to pick yourselves back up.

Some other times the lines get blurred, and it’s scary. But the scarier it gets, the more rewarding it becomes to look for signs, finding them in the smallest of things, like how Steve gets all sulky when you go out on dates, or how Bucky constantly seeks your approval for whatever he does.

You space out as they pick a movie, your mind eerily quiet, your body weirdly warm.

There’s a pit in your stomach that you can’t understand fully. It’s been there a while, ever since your friendship has started to shift, and your stares have been lingering as much as their affectionate touch.

Your eyes travel from Bucky’s black t-shirt to his side profile, tracing the gentle slope of his nose and his pouty lips. Lately, you’ve been looking at him a lot more, catching yourself in the act and shaking yourself out of your thoughts.

What thoughts, you don’t know. Your mind is blank more often than not when you’re set on him. When you’re with them.

You’re doing it again, unconsciously, until Steve elbows you in the side, and you’re rudely snapped out of your reverie.

“You’re too quiet,” he mumbles, eyeing you suspiciously.

“Which is weird since you never shut the fuck up,” quips Bucky, hitting you with his shoulder, effectively bringing you back to reality.

You resist laughing because you’ll never give him the satisfaction, and just swing back at him.

“I’m just tired, ‘s all. My neck hurts a lot, guess we’re getting old, huh.”

Bucky just shrugs and presses play on the movie they’ve chosen. You smile at Steve as convincingly as you can to get him off your case.

He nods at you, not quite sold, but leaves it at that, knowing better than to prod you.

“Want me to give you a massage?” he asks, wiggling his fingers in front of your face.

“Please?” you pout, turning your back to him.

Your thought process was that you can never refuse Steve’s healing hands. You didn’t think it through so much, clearly, as he kneads the knots in your neck and you feel your lower body coming alive, a warmth pooling awkwardly in your belly.

Bucky gives you the most offended, betrayed look you’ve ever seen, frowning and pouting like a petulant child.

“S’ not fair. I want a massage too,” he whines, shimmying his shoulders in your direction, offering you the best puppy eyes he can muster.

Cute, you think. “Gross,” you say, “I’ll give you one if you stop with the face.”

He just sticks his tongue out, wiggling between your legs.

The movie plays in the background, your mind too focused on Steve’s warm hands on your bare skin and Bucky’s back muscles flexing under your touch.

The hot feeling in your chest is back when his eyes move from the screen to yours, a goofy smile on his lips, features relaxed.

You bury your hands in his silky hair, scratching his scalp. He almost moans, butting your palm like a kitten.

He’s so effortlessly sweet that it hurts.

It’s silent in a comfortable way, with the sound effect of the movie lulling you all, except your traitorous brain, in a serene state.

It’s a kids movie, and you’re just giving yourselves a massage like you’ve done hundreds of times before, but something feels different about it, in the way that Steve’s warm breath tickles your neck, or the way that Bucky turns around every few minutes just to smile at you.

At some point your hands stop moving, and your back is flush to Steve’s front as he holds you in his arms, Bucky’s head on your lap as he hugs your thighs to his body, fingers absentmindedly caressing your skin, hiking up your legs, higher and higher-, goosebumps erupting all over you. He stops just before the hem of your shorts, making his way down to your knee, just to do it all over again.

You can no longer deny the fluttering in your core, nor the slick gathering in your panties at the thought of what would happen if he just crept higher.

By the time that the end credits roll around, you're cocooned in their warmth, Bucky asleep on your stomach, your own eyes droopy. You’re drowsy, pliant in Steve’s hold as he adjusts you both comfortably on the pillows.

The last thing you feel, as darkness envelops the room, is his lips on your forehead as he whispers to you good night.

-

You hate sharing beds, but when you wake up in the middle of the night between them, you think you may not hate it as much as you thought.

Bucky is a messy sleeper, arm swung over your hips, legs sprawled over half the mattress, face buried in the pillow next to yours, back gently rising with every breath he takes.

Steve is more put together. He sleeps on his side, lips parted, one arm under the pillow, the other close to your side, his fingers intertwined with yours.

You don’t know how long you spend staring at the ceiling, heart hammering in your chest, wondering if this shift in your friendship will bring you closer or break you apart in the long run. You don’t want to entertain the chances of them breaking your heart, or you breaking theirs.

Even the possibility of having to choose between one of the two seems absurd to you.

The bed creaks under Bucky’s weight as he turns to you, tightening his hold on your hips. You’re paralized as he nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck, a breathy whine escaping his lips. All your blood travels to your face when you feel his hard on rub against your legs, his hips uncounsciously rutting on you.

“So soft,” he mumbles, eyes fluttering open.

You’re staring at each other, almost in a daze, and maybe it’s because it’s pitch black outside and you’re in your own little dimension, or maybe it’s the adoration in his bleary eyes, but you don’t turn away when he closes the distance between you.

The kiss you share is soft, lazy, tentative.

You prod his mouth open with yours, tongues swirling together with no rush and no shame. You’d imagined kissing your best friend would feel more awkward than this, and instead his warmth, his taste, his hungry kisses, everything about it seems natural to you, like it’s what you’re supposed to have been doing all this time, a chance you were too scared to take.

You’re so lost in the moment that you barely register the lips on your neck and another set of hands making its way under your t-shirt, settling on your stomach, fingers barely grazing the underside of your boobs.

As soon as his mouth detaches from your own, Steve is pouncing on you, his kiss more rough and demanding than Bucky’s, tongue less hesitant as it explores you, wiping any remnant of sleep out of your mind.

You’re breathless as he invades all your senses, barely wrapping your head around the fact that your shy friend is eating you whole and the flirty, outgoing one is just looking with hunger and rubbing himself on your leg.

Steve breaks away from you, a string of drool connecting you, his eyes dark with desire. He pecks your lips again, smirking at you as he lowers his face, leaving a trail of kisses on your jaw, to the column of your neck, down your collarbones, settling between your tits.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, grasping the hem of your t-shirt, “Can I touch you? I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

You nod fervently, growing needy with each passing second, “Please Steve, just touch me.”

Bucky gets bolder, kissing you with more conviction this time. Your clothes are shedded, his bare skin heated against yours, your hands in his hair.

Steve takes his sweet time making his way downwards, leaving a trail of bruises on your chest, stomach, hips, kneading your ass. He settles between your legs, looking up at you as he closes his mouth on your clothed pussy, sucking through your panties and leaving a wet mark on them.

You’re embarrassingly horny, arousal dripping out of you, nipples stiff as Bucky plays with them. You want him to rip your panties to shreds and take you right there and then, but Steve has other plans, enjoying the way you’re so pliant underneath him.

He grabs you by the hips, turning you around with your face down and your ass up in the air. The string of your underwear is almost swallowed between your puffy folds, stained with your slick.

Steve takes a deep breath before tugging the string up, teasing your swollen clit with the material, raptured by the way you’re so open and ready for them, glistening with desire.

Bucky sits back on the headboard, eyes half lidded, legs spread before your face. You trace the outline of his hard cock through his boxers, mouth watering at the idea of him inside you, filling you up.

Steve doesn’t give you the time to touch him before he’s tugging you upwards by the hair, flush to his chest. His breath tickles your neck as he teases you through your panties.

“Are you gonna be good for me? For us?”

You don’t have to think about it, strings of ‘yes’, ‘please, ‘touch me’, leaving your lips as if having a mind of their own. It would be embarrassing to be this wanton with anyone else, but with them, everything is like it’s meant to be.

“Then be a good girl, okay? Show Bucky how good you can be with that pretty mouth of yours,” he grunts in your ear, pressing his hard on against your ass cheeks, “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

You nod, grind yourself on his cock, so pent up and desperate for release that you rub your legs together just to feel the string of your panties digging in your folds, hoping it would help soothe the ache in your cunt.

“Of course you have, you little slut,” he grunts, pushing your head down on the mattress as Bucky tugs his underwear down.

Yours is ripped by Steve, thrown somewhere in the room, exposing your quivering hole to the cold air. Arching your back, you silently beg for something, anything, which comes in the form of a sting and a loud smack reverberating in the stuffy room.

Steve smacks your pussy again, and again, and again, until the sharp pain in your clit becomes so pleasant that you could come just from that. Bucky wastes no time yanking your head towards his crotch, slapping his heavy cock on your cheek, until your face burns with humiliation and need.

Your hands tremble as you reach for him, hesitating before licking a stripe from the base to the tip, savoring his musky pre cum. You swirl your tongue around the head, teasing his sensitive slit with kitten licks, hands fondling with his balls.

Steve’s thick finger prodding at your entrance makes you gasp, giving Bucky the perfect opportunity to shove your face down his cock until you’re coughing, lungs burning, clawing at his things as he holds you down.

“Calm down, Bucky. Stop bein’ so desperate,” Steve’s voice is muffled in your ears as you struggle for air, feeling light headed.

He plunges a finger inside your pussy, then another, eased by the embarrassing amount of wetness dripping out of you.

Bucky whines something in return, yanking you up. Tears blur your vision as you heave, barely getting enough air in your lungs before he pushes you down again, using your head as a flashlight.

He keeps you still, nose buried in the dark hair of his pelvis, as he stands on his haunches. Grabbing your face with both hands, he starts relentlessly pummelling inside you, fucking your mouth with abandon.

With a broken moan he thrusts all the way down, his balls slapping your chin, fingers clamping around your nose when you start gagging.

“Oh, she likes that. She’s squeezing my fingers,” Steve says, scissoring his fingers between your gummy walls, “Do it again.”

Bucky pinches your nose one more time, depriving you of all air. Dark spots start appearing at the sides of your vision, mind hazy. He lets up before you faint, barely giving you time before he’s stuffing your mouth with his cock once more.

Steve lays down between your legs, face up. From his perspective he can see your glistening pussy, your tits bouncing with the force of Bucky’s thrusts, and his cock disappear between your abused lips. You’re being so good to them that he feels like rewarding you.

His hands guide you to sit down on his face, your moans muffled as he latches onto your swollen clit. He sucks on it until you’re on the edge of your orgasm, walls quivering with the need to release.

He stops just before you can reach your peak, and spanks your clit again.

“You’re not coming on my mouth now.”

Your throat vibrates around Bucky’s cock with moans of pleasure, spurring him on to hold you down longer, chasing his own orgasm with a string of curses.

“She’s gonna faint, idiot,” Steve scolds him, tearing you away from Bucky’s cock, drool dripping down your sore jaw.

“She can handle it,” rasps Bucky, rolling his eyes.

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” you frown, slapping Bucky’s hands away when he reaches for you.

“Brats, both of you,” Steve sighs condescendingly, “Be more gentle. And you,” he warns, pinching your inner thigh, “don’t talk unless it’s to beg for more, ‘kay?”

There’s a pause, an awkward moment when you don’t know where to look, what to do with your hands, waiting for Steve to take control again, like he always does.

“So-” Bucky starts, looking up at Steve for guidance, “What now?”

“You’re both- y’know, it’s your first time actually doing it, right?” he asks after pondering for a second, eyes darting between the two of you.

“Yes,” you both respond, and he hums.

“Then you two should go first, be each other’s first times. It makes more sense. I got her ready, so it shouldn’t hurt.”

The idea of Bucky’s cock inside you makes you a bit anxious, considering how much you struggled taking him in your mouth, jaw still sore from his abuse, but it also fills you with warmth.

You trust them blindly, and you want this, you want him to be the first one inside you for whatever reason.

There’s no need for words between you, a tiny nod and a reassuring smile all you need to settle on the pillows, spreading your legs for Bucky to settle in between.

He’s always so sure of himself, but in the moment he looks like a lost puppy. He pumps himself a few times, and braces his weight on one arm as he lines his cock with your entrance.

He gives you one more kiss, tasting himself on your lips, before pushing past your entrance. The tip is barely in by the time that you screech, the pain sharper than you imagined, and Bucky halts immediately despite looking like he’s about to bust on the spot.

Your pussy feels like it’s burning, and no amount of fingers inside you could have prepared you for the stretch of your walls.

“It’s okay,” Steve whispers in your ear, a hand rubbing your shoulder to comfort you, “You’re doing so good, being such a good girl, you’re so perfect. It will go away before you realize, promise.”

“Okay, okay, I can do this,” you pant, digging your nails in Bucky’s back.

“Let’s switch, it will hurt less if you’re on top,” Steve suggests, and you and Bucky comply.

He lays down on the pillows as you straddle his hips, propping yourself up on his toned abs. Steve kneels at your side, holding you up as you hover over him.

Your heart’s beating out of your chest as you grasp Bucky’s cock, taking a deep breath to steel yourself before inching down on him, whimpering with every centimeter that gets swallowed by your gummy walls.

The stretch feels like it’s splitting you open, and if it weren’t for Steve’s strong arms, you’d collapse and cry on Bucky’s chest.

Steve whispers praises and reassuring words in your ear and kisses your tears away, swirling his fingers around your clit to help you out, and Bucky caresses the sides of your waist, mumbling broken apologies to you, kissing your neck.

Once you finally bottom out, you still and slump on Bucky’s shoulder, burying your nose in his hair, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent.

The pain is throbbing, burning, but it becomes more subtle and bearable the longer Bucky stays inside you.

“Okay, it’s getting better” you wheeze in an attempt to encourage yourself, “But I can’t feel my legs now.”

They break in a fit of laughter, easing the tension in the room.

“Let’s switch again,” Bucky proposes, slightly out of breath with the way that your pussy is squeezing him in a vice, “I can move.”

You nod, clinging to his neck as he lifts you up, careful not to let his cock slip out of you.

“I want to feel you close,” Steve says, slightly out of breath, “Lay her on me.”

They help you lay on his chest, Bucky’s cock still buried inside you, the pain fading away in a dull sting.

You’re sandwiched between their bodies, enveloped by their warmth and affection, coated in your slick and their sweat, and despite the discomfort, you’ve never felt as full of love as now.

Bucky seeks permission with his eyes, then reassurance from Steve, and starts rocking his hips tentatively, biting hard on his lips to keep himself from cumming embarrassingly fast.

His cock drags against your walls, a ring of white cream slowly accumulating around the base.

It’s not painful anymore, slightly uncomfortable at times when he’s accidentally too rough, but the burn is now a simmering heat that grows in your core with every thrust.

Steve sings praises in your ear, “Look how good you’re doin’, taking Bucky’s cock so well, you’re such a good girl,” whilst Bucky rutts needily on you.

He’s sloppy in his movements, and his hips don’t have a rhythm to them. He takes you high, close to a release, just to fuck it up again when he stutters, involountarily edging you over and over again.

“I’m close, I’m so close, I’m gonna cum inside you,” he moans.

In a blur you’re on your stomach. Bucky positions you on your knees and pummels inside you again, thrusting more forcefully as he loses himself in the pleasure.

You whimper between Steve’s tender kisses before Bucky tears you away from him, yanking you flush against his chest.

“I love you, I love you, love you so much, love you,” he keeps mumbling, tightly clutching his arms around your stomach and tits, slamming you hard on him.

At that angle Bucky’s cock pushes against a sensitive spot inside you that makes the coils in your stomach tighter, your clit throbbing and your walls clamping down on him.

Steve, never one to be outdone, sits back on his haunches and manhandles your head down again until you’re faced with his hard, leaking cock.

He’s trimmed more neatly than Bucky, but he’s just as big and intimidating.

He slaps his cock on your lips, smearing his precum on you. You’re a moaning mess, automatically taking him in your mouth, savoring his musk on your tongue.

Your jaw is still sore but you do your best to accommodate Steve, eager to please. You relax your muscles and let Bucky’s thrusts do the work for you, already lightheaded with the lack of air.

They keep stuffing you with their cocks, bouncing you between each other, the lewd sounds of your squelching pussy and the bed creaking filling the room.

Bucky’s fingers teasing your clit, your lungs burning, your vision going spotty, it’s all too much for you.

Just as you think you’re about to reach your peak, you feel Bucky pause and stutter, a choked moan escaping his throat as he comes, stuffing you full of his warm cum. Steve comes at the same time, and you almost choke on his release as he spills his load down your throat.

It feels good, you’re fuller than you’ve ever been, but it’s still not enough to push you over the edge.

You both collapse on Steve, exhausted, cum pouring out of your hole and onto the sheets. You expect him to take you immediately after, instead he snakes a hand between your bodies, finding your sensitive clit, overstimulated with all the touching.

“You did so well, baby, you were so good for Bucky. Now cum on my fingers, cum for us,” he moans, twirling your bud between his fingers.

Pent up as you are, it doesn’t take long for you to finally come, almost blacking out with the intensity of your orgasm, your limbs shaking and quivering between theirs.

When you come down from your high, you’re tired out, your whole body is sore, your hips and legs hurt, and the cum seeping out of your entrance reminds you of the burning pain there, now back with a vengeance.

When morning comes, you’ll have to remind Steve to buy you Plan B.

The exhaustion catches up to you as soon as your head hits the pillow, a loud ring in your ears as you barely register your surroundings, Bucky already asleep by your side in true Bucky fashion while Steve takes care of you both, cleaning you up and tucking you in bed.

He whispers ‘I love you’ and kisses the tip of your nose.

Maybe one day you’ll say it back.

For now, you let yourself rest in their embrace, always the three of you like it’s meant to be.

—

Damn, 4k words of porn. This felt like giving birth or something sksjshj

Please, share and leave a comment if you can 🥰

[bokukawas]

two sides of the same coin

pairing; Itadori Yuuji x Reader (x Sukuna, at least kinda/implied)

warnings; i didn’t proofread this at all lol

a/n; woke up this morning with this imagine in mind so naturally i had to get it out of my head

summary;  cuddle time with your boyfriend makes the monster come out... only he doesn’t seem that scary to you / seriously this is just a little something, don’t expect much of this

word count; 1,9k

Your boyfriend, Itadori Yuuji, leans heavily against you as soon as you open the door to him. Pressing his face into the crook of your neck and moaning dramatically as he puts his arms around you to squish you against his broad chest and puts even more of his weight on you. Snorting you stumble a step back, arms reaching around him to steady both of you, with little succes as you keep stumbling back because he was a beefy guy and you had trouble keeping him upright. 

“Yuuji, what are you doing, you’re heavy” you huff as you stagger another step backwards, his face never leaving your neck as he sighs again.

“’m tired.” Came his nuzzled answer against your collar, leaving goosebumps in his wake as his hot breath tickles over your exposed skin.

“I can tell. C’mon then, I have dinner ready for you.”

You maneuver your boyfriend to your shared kitchen and sit him down on a chair so you have your hands free to get his food ready. He watches you with big tired eyes the whole time, exhaustion making them droop and close from time to time, seemingly without him even noticing it. He looked cute, as usual, a little disheveled, but still utterly cute and a warm feeling spread in your chest again as you watched him slowly stuff his face with what you prepared for him, munching happily, but slowly. Another indicator at how exhausted he must be, you thought to yourself. Usually the food would be gone in little to no time.

“Can we watch a movie now? I want to cuddle.” Your simple approving hum was answer enough for him. Instead of waiting for you to clean up, he wraps his arms around your middle as soon as you were close enough to him and carries you to the living room as if you would weight nothing. Well his inhuman strength sure came in handy sometimes.

Gently putting you down on the couch, he hands you the tv remote, before flopping down on you entirely, arms going around your hips as he snuggles his face into your lap. Another sigh leaves his lips, this time sounding very content as you tenderly run your fingers through his hair. You chuckle.

“You don’t even want to watch a film, you just want to be cuddled, am I right?”

“No, but you can choose the movie.”

“Liar. You don’t even have your eyes open.” You laugh as you poke his cheek. “Such a big baby.”

“Mhh don’t stop.” He grumbles when he couldn’t feel your fingers comb through his hair anymore.

Absentmindedly you just put on a random documentary on Netflix, focus never leaving your boyfriends face. Or what you could see of it anyways, as he had it mushed against your thighs.

“Hard mission today? Want to talk about it?” you ask as you continue to run your fingers through his pinkish hair, grazing your nails along his neck exactly how he likes it.

A first approving hum and another declining hum vibrate against your legs and you smile fondly down at him. It has been a long time since he last came home this exhausted. At times like this, you were actually happy that he had the king of curses residing inside of him. Sukuna surely would intervene when it got dangerous enough, making sure Yuuji, and therefore he himself would survive.  

Continuing to gently caress your boyfriend, you start thinking again. It has been some time now since Yuuji had last lost control and let Sukuna emerge. It also usually happens when he was as exhausted as he currently was: when he was letting his guard down.

And sure enough, as your fingers trail down his neck, scratching at his scalp before slightly massaging his muscles you could see them: faint black lines appearing all over your boyfriends body. They disappear just as quickly when Yuuji moves a little, readjusting his weight on you, making it even easier to access his neck just how he likes it.

Soon enough his breathing evens out again, chest lifting and falling slowly, drooling a little as he drifts off for real this time. Black lines appear again all over him. Smiling, you trace your finger along one of them, noticing the little shudder the man tries to hold back. Humming, you continue to caress your boyfriends face and neck. Your smile only grows as time goes by, so when finally a red eye pops open on your boyfriends’ cheek you snicker.

“Who would’ve thought that the king of curses likes to be babied as well…” you mock, as you gently run your finger below his eye, pulling it quickly away when a mouth appears to snap at it.

The man currently in your lap was not your boyfriend anymore and you knew that. Of course you did. As soon as the markings appeared he was gone, yet you just knew Sukuna wouldn’t hurt you. When this switch had happened the first time without Yuuji noticing, you had freaked out and poked him hardly, which woke him up instantly and made Sukuna disappear in a matter of seconds. He was just as freaked out as you were about it then, so you had kept it a secret that it had happened after that again. And again.

So now, when 3 more red eyes stared up at you as he lifted his head a little you only sigh, but run your hands through his hair nonetheless.

“Rough day for you as well, hm? You’re not very chatty today.”

Sukunas much deeper voice rumbles against your thighs as he rests his head there again and whines. “I think I was the only one having a rough day. The brat nearly got himself killed…again.”

Stopping your ministrations, you fix your eyes on his face and wait for him to elaborate. When he does not, you pull at his hair a little. “Could you please explain how my boyfriend nearly got himself killed…again!?”

“Did I tell you to stop?”

“What?” you ask confused.

He lifts himself up again, giving your hands a pointed look, making you groan. “You’re so demanding.”

“I’m the king of curses, you should do as I say or you’ll die.”

“Oh shut up, you were literally drooling in my lap two minutes ago.”

“I wasn’t, the brat was. I could kill you right now.”

Rolling your eyes you shove your hands back into his hair a little rougher than necessary, pulling on strands of his hair as he still didn’t tell you what happened. “Tell me or I’ll stop again.”

Your leg heats up as he exhales against it slowly and then starts telling you what happened. Yuuji was a decent fighter you knew that, but you also knew that one of his weak points were his friends and loved ones. And today that had proved to be the problem.

“I had to grow back his whole arm,” he complains. “If I hadn’t switched with him he would have bled to death right there.”

Your hands falter again. So it had been really bad today. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to tell you about it. “Hey honey, I nearly died today, how was your day?” Goosebumps raise on your arms as you imagine how the day could have gone if Sukuna had not meddled. Instead of your tired boyfriend coming home to you, a random worker from jujutsu tech, telling you he died. Or even worse, one of his close friends coming to deliver such a horrendous message. You involuntarily shudder.

“Don’t worry, he’s fine.”

Cupping his cheek, you make him look up at you. “Thank you, Sukuna.”

“I only did it to safe myself.��

“That doesn’t mean I appreciate it any less.”

His mouth already pulled into a snarl, ready to give a snarky remark when the lines on his body started rapidly fading again and a droopy Yuuji was looking at you again.

“Sorry sweetie, were you talking to me?” he yawns loudly and squishes his face even more into your lap, snuggling in again. “I’m just so tired.”

Gently running your fingers over his face, you poke him in the cheek. “Let’s go to bed then puppy, you need to rest properly.”

It was obvious that Yuuji didn’t want to move away from his place on top of you, but he also knew you were right. As nice as your fingers in his hair felt, in the end this position would strain his neck and make him even sorer than he already was. So he reluctantly got up and got himself ready for bed, humming happily when he saw that you joined him in the bathroom.

With the toothbrush still dangling from his mouth he asks you what you had been saying earlier. Pondering if you should tell him that you’ve been talking with Sukuna, and not for the first time at that, you decide against it…for now. He would surely freak out again and lose all of his tiredness if you told him now and then he wouldn’t be able to rest. And he so very clearly needed to rest. You could tell him tomorrow morning, you decided. So you tell him you’ve only been rambling along a little.

After brushing his teeth, he leaves you alone to do your evening routine, but not before he discards his shirt and trousers in the laundry basket. He was one of those persons who always ran hot, so he only slept in his boxers. Who needed a blanket or clothes when they could have their girlfriend warm them up, right? That was his motto. You snort when he came back to give you a quick kiss on the cheek, telling you to hurry.

When you came to the bedroom shortly after that, he was already sprawled out in bed, opening his arms for you to lay on top of him, so you do. Resting your face on his chest, snuggling closer so you could press little kisses to the underside of his chin, making him laugh. His comforting smell soon engulfs you and you nuzzle your nose harder against him, silently thanking Sukuna again for saving your boyfriend. In return, you can feel his arms wrap around you even more tightly.

“Yuuji?” you softly whisper. He only hums for you to know he heard you, and gives a little squeeze to encourage you to continue speaking.

Lifting yourself up a little, you press a quick kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

Yuuji pops open an eye at that, pulls you close again and kisses you back, slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, pouring all his love for you into the kiss, instead of just saying ‘i love you’ back.You smile against his lips. “Good night.”

Taking up your position on his chest again, you close your eyes as well, listening to his soft breathing and little snores. Eventually it gets silent again and you feel two more arms wrap around your middle. Now too tired yourself to lift up your head and look at Sukuna, you just press a soft kiss against his chest as well, mumbling a “thank you again, ‘kuna.” Into his chest, before falling asleep yourself.

You miss the fond smile that grazes the curses lips as he beholds you, laying there utterly at peace in his arms and sighs. Maybe he did save that brat not only for his own benefits after all.

[pingutats]

could you write a really fluffy bit on harry kissing every single self harm scar on your body? like, stroking them and cuddling with you and reassuring you that your body is beautiful and okay even with scars? 🥺

thank you for requesting this! this was genuinely quite therapeutic to write so i’m glad i did it — it’s longer than i meant it to be at about 2.4k words, but anyway. here’s a difficult conversation with new boyfriend!harry. 

major trigger warning for discussions of self-harm and scars. this is not a story for everyone, and could definitely be triggering if you are not in the right headspace. please be responsible and look after yourselves <3 

this is also pretty unedited so forgive any mistakes. okay!! onwards!

It’s getting late when Harry asks you, ‘Do you want to spend the night?’

The meandering film you found on Netflix is drawing to a close, finally. The characters are on a boat, drifting away into an Italian sunset. You barely have a grasp of how they got there — mostly, you just listened to Harry talk over the dialogue about a pretty little café he knows just around the corner from where this scene was filmed, or how cool the water gets at night there and so the actors must have been shivering. All of it wrapped up, of course, in a quiet suggestion to take you there someday so you can see for yourself. You get a little thrill every time he says something like that. It means he’s thinking of a future with you, which means he wants one, even though it’s only been just over a month since you’ve been seeing each other.

He trails his fingers up and down your arm, bringing up goosebumps beneath your sleeve, and looks at you. ‘Or I can drive you home, if you’d rather sleep in your own bed.’

You hum. ‘No,’ you say. ‘I’ll stay. I’d probably end up falling asleep in the car anyway. I’m so tired.’

His dimple appears. ‘Good, because I’d probably fall asleep at the wheel.’ He grabs the remote and turns the TV off, then pushes himself off the couch with a groan. He holds his hand out for you. ’C’mon, then.’

You grab his hand and he hauls you up, his other arm coming up to your back to pull you into his chest. You fall against him, grabbing his biceps to steady yourself. The two glasses of wine you’ve had tonight have thrown your balance off. He presses a kiss to your hair as you giggle. Then he brings his hand up to your jaw to tilt your head up to look at him properly. You nearly melt at his green eyes.

‘Hey,’ he says. ‘I can sleep on the couch.’ His gaze is completely sincere.

You haven’t slept together before, both in the literal and figurative senses. You haven’t had sex with anybody at all, actually, and Harry seems to have picked up on your hesitancy. He’s never asked for anything. He lets everything stay on your terms. 

That’s what makes you trust him.

‘You don’t have to do that,’ you tell him.

He holds your gaze for a moment longer, just to make sure. ’Right,’ he says, breaking into a smile.

He finds a new toothbrush in his cupboard for you, and you brush your teeth together. It feels like a big step to do these nighttime rituals with him. It’s so domestic. He shares his cleanser with you and offers his moisturiser that smells like vanilla. You imagine spending every night like this.

As he leads the way back into his bedroom, he pulls his shirt off. ‘I get hot at night. D’you mind?’

You giggle — you can’t help yourself, at the sight of his muscled torso with all of its tattoos. He’s so handsome. ‘Not at all,’ you tell him.

He throws the shirt into a hamper in the corner, and the birds on his chest seem to fly with the movement of his shoulder, then looks back to catch you ogling him. He chuckles, and the sight of his dimples gives you butterflies.

‘You like?’ he asks.

You narrow your eyes. ’Are you flexing?’

He relaxes. ‘Yeah, a bit. Just wanna impress you.’

You snort at that. ‘Like you need to do anything to impress me.’

He grins. ‘D’you want something more comfortable to sleep in?’ He rummages around in his drawer for a moment, then pulls out a t-shirt and holds it up for you. It has an incredibly faded image of Flinstones characters on the front. ‘How’s this?’ he asks.

You smile at his courtesy. ’Perfect. I love your t-shirt collection, by the way. Where the hell do you find things like this?’

‘Oh, you know… Here and there.’ He tosses it to you.

You catch it with some semblance of grace — you’re proud of yourself for that. ‘Thanks.’ You glance at the bathroom door. ‘Alright. I’ll just… get changed in here,’ you say, slipping through the ajar door.

‘Alright, love.’

You shut the door, and realise you’ve forgotten to turn the light on, leaving you in pitch-black. You grope against the wall for the switch and turn it on, and take a deep breath. Why are you so nervous, so frazzled? It’s just Harry. You shimmy out of your leggings, then pull your sweater over your head.

You look at your reflection. Well. There’s a problem. It’s easy for you to forget when you’re alone, or wrapped up in layers of clothing — it’s just a part of your body now. Artefacts from a different time, years ago. Even the memory of how you got them — how you gave them to yourself — is slipping away, thank God. It’s all a haze. These scars were carved by a girl that you don’t see much anymore. They aren’t really a painful reminder anymore, just a fact of life. You know they're there. The problem is, no one else expects it.

You stare down at your wrists, seeing the lines that never faded. Maybe if they were all like the thin white lines, barely visible until you look closely, you wouldn’t mind. You’re going to sleep, anyway, and it’s not like he’s inspecting your forearms. No, it’s the three darker ones, hard twisting scar tissue that you can feel even through sleeves. Times where you went just a little too deep, were a little too reckless. The ones you regret the most. They’re big, and ugly, and too obvious. He’d notice them right away.

But he gave you his t-shirt.

You look at your reflection in the mirror, furrowing your brows. You adjust your pose, twisting your arms around so the inside of your wrists are hidden, facing behind you. You look ridiculous. You know, as soon as you see Harry, you’ll reach for him, and he’ll see.

Would that be so bad?

You look down at your arms again. It’s been years, and they’re still there. They’ll probably be there forever. They’re as permanent as the tattoos on his skin — except those are beautiful, and what you have is not. You can’t show this to him. The world where these scars exist, and the world where he exists, should never cross over. It wouldn’t be right.

You pull your long-sleeve back on, covering them again. Then you put the t-shirt, which is long enough to be modest on you. This is fine, right? It’s better than any alternative, at least.

You leave the bathroom holding your folded sweats up to your chest, nervous now realising that you are standing in front of Harry in just your underwear, more naked than you ever have been in front of him.

He’s checking something on his phone as he sits on the bed, back against the headboard and long legs stretching down the covers, but he brightens up at the sight of you. His gaze drops to your legs — which makes your cheeks burn, but his boyishly excited expression dissolves your nerves — then rises up again to your shirt. He frowns at the long-sleeve. 

‘Are you cold?’ he asks. ‘I thought it was pretty warm but I can turn the heat up if you need.’

You shake your head, dropping your sweats on the floor beside the dresser. ’No, it’s fine.’

He sits up straighter, swinging his legs over the side so his feet rest on the ground. ’Can’t be comfortable to sleep like that.’ He hesitates. ‘You didn’t have to wear the t-shirt if you don’t want to.’

‘No, I want to. I do.’ You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to figure out how to navigate this situation in a way that won’t end in him being annoyed or disgusted. ‘It’s just…’ You trail off, but one glance at his frown, at the way he leans forward and hangs on every word, makes your resolve crumble. You’ll have to have this conversation at one point or another. ‘Okay. Shit, Harry, can I talk to you about something?’

The way he answers immediately makes you want to cry. ‘Yeah, of course. Anything.’ He sits up straighter, pats the covers next to him, inviting you to sit down.

You sigh and cross the room to sit next to him, not daring to meet his eyes. How the hell do you explain this?

He moves his arm behind you once you’re sitting. Not touching you, but enough so he’s close. ‘What’s wrong?’ he prompts. ‘Do you need me to drive you home instead? Because I didn’t—’

‘No,’ you interrupt. ‘It’s fine. It’s just, I kinda…’ You take a deep breath. ‘Okay, please don’t freak out?’

He frowns. His next words are measured. ‘I’ll try not to. Is everything okay?’

‘Yeah,’ you whisper. It feels like the greatest effort in the world, but you curl your fingers around the end of your sleeve and pull it up, revealing your wrists. ‘So, I have these…’ Your voice shakes.

‘Oh, baby,’ Harry says quietly, and that’s all you need to hear. His arm behind you reaches around and pulls you into his chest, hugging you close to him. His thumb rubs circles into your shoulder as you sniffle, his other hand resting on top of yours.

‘It’s in the past, you know,’ you say, muffled into his shoulder. He smells good, you notice. Not that it’s really important right now, but you appreciate it all the same. ‘Not a big deal. Just didn’t want to scare you or anything. ’S embarrassing.’

‘Listen to me,’ he says, pulling back and holding your face in his hands. He waits until you manage to look him in his eyes. They’re watery, you realise, and that might be the most painful thing about this night. ’It’s not embarrassing, alright? I don’t want you to feel like that. They’re part of you, and I really like you, every part.’ He smiles. ‘I really do, you know.’

You sniff, wiping at your cheek with your fingertips, trying to calm your tears. Suddenly all your fears seem ridiculous. Did you really expect him to turn you away, disgusted? Ask to never see you again? You knuckle at your eyes. ‘Okay. I’m sorry.’

‘Hey.’ He springs from the bed to grab the tissue box from the dresser and brings it to you, pulling out a tissue and dabbing under your eyes himself. He’s so gentle. ‘You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry, that you were worried to show me.’

You chuckle, grabbing a tissue from the box and blowing your nose. What more can you say to him? He’s so wonderful to you. It’s early days still, and you’re wary of moving too fast and coming on too strong. You aren’t experienced with relationships in the same way that you know he is. But you love him. You’re sure of it. You’ll tell him, one day. Soon.

‘You don’t need to wear my shirt if you don’t want to,’ he repeats once you’re calmer.

‘I’ll wear it.’ And to show him, in your sudden burst of confidence, you undress right next to him, taking off both layers and then putting the only t-shirt back on. You turn to him, and giggle. He’s turned his head away. ‘You can look,’ you tell him, nudging his knee with yours.

He looks back with a sheepish smile. ‘Didn’t want to be a creep.’ He scoots backwards onto the bed, settling his back against the headboard. ‘C’mere.’

You crawl over to him, settling with your back against his chest, sitting between his legs. His arms wrap around your middle, anchoring you to him. He presses kisses to your neck, the scruff on his cheeks tickling you. You curl up, twisting your neck away, giggling.

‘Harry!’

‘Sorry, love.’ His hands relax, and find your own. He rests his chin over your shoulder, and gently turns your palms upwards, so your wrists are visible to him.

You shiver, but allow it. You feel this is important. You don’t want to hide with him.

‘Y/N…’ he says quietly. You feel his chest push against your back as it expands with a breath. ‘Am I… am I allowed to touch them?’ he asks.

You’re surprised. You thought he would want to avoid them. You nod, then, realising he can’t really see you, you add, ‘Yeah.’

Your fingers are tense. You can’t help it. His thumb presses into your palm, massaging the tension away. He pulls the back of your hand to his lips and brings it back to your lap.

You close your eyes.

When he finds the first hard lump of scarring with his thumb, he pauses. He takes a shaky breath, then he runs his thumb up and down the length of it.

‘Y/N,’ he says softly.

You squeeze your eyes shut tighter. ‘Mm?’

‘You’re beautiful, you know.’ He pulls your hand back up to his lips, but instead he kisses the biggest scar on your wrist. ‘No matter what. You are.’

‘Harry,’ you whisper, because you don’t know what to say.

He kisses the scar again, then trails his lips up your wrist, covering them all. ‘I don’t want you to be ashamed of anything. You survived. That’s a wonderful thing.’ He drops your hand and cups your jaw, turning your head towards his. He leans around your shoulder to face you properly. ’I’m so fucking proud of you, you know?’

You never were good at taking compliments, so you just cross the distance between the two of you and kiss him.

When you’re lying together in the dark a little while later, with his arm thrown over you protectively and his soft breaths hitting your neck where his t-shirt doesn’t cover, you feel safe. Your arms are bare, you’re with another person, and you feel safe in this situation for the first time in years. It’s a wonderful feeling. All because of Harry.

You can’t wait to wake up in the morning and see his face again.

[madmilkboi]

hi! i loved the “u ask them to buy u a non existent feminine product” that was so fucking funny omg. can i request hcs of kenma, akaashi, iwaizumi, and suna with sleeping habits?

┈┈⋆

━🧋⌒*. Their sleeping habits

summary: headcanons of their sleeping habits

genre: fluff fluff and fluff

warnings: subtle mentions of killing on iwa's part

a/n: hii im glad you loved it lmao hehe anyways idk if this is what u wanted, please do tell me if i misunderstood your request 🥺

• kenma's sleeping habit is that he tends to cling on to whatever's beside him

• may it be a person or a pillow

• and he will get cranky when he doesn't have something to cling on

• he would grab you close to him and rub your back mindlessly

• as you were playing a game on his pc

• a groan came from the bed

• it was 11 almost midnight but Kenma stayed up all day

• now he's fast asleep

• but it seems that his slumber was disrupted

•"Y/n?" He called, you paused the game and turned the swivel chair, facing him

•you were welcomed with a tired pouty kenma with cute bed head

• "What's wrong?" You asked

• he pointed the empty space beside him and you immediately got what he meant

• you exited the game, turned off the pc, and walked to the bed

• a tired smile was formed by his lips

• you sat on the bed and he immediately grabbed your waist

• you were now close to him, you could feel his chest going up and down

• you looked at him and saw that he was immediately put to sleep

• you smiled and pressed a soft kiss on his neck

• you then felt a hand delicately rubbing your back

• you were slowly lulled to sleep by him mindlessly rubbing your back

• and along with that Kenma tends to let out soft snores when he's in deep sleep mywhatacutie

• akaashi has a habit of sleep talking and he has very weird dreams to which he talks about in his sleep

• you would sometimes talk to him while he was sleep talking

• and most of his responses were far from the subject, well what do you expect from a person who's asleep?

• as you were scrolling through your phone a soft yell came from Akaashi

• You peaked from the blanket that you were hiding in and saw that he was asleep

• and so you assumed that he was having weird dreams again

• "if we could shoot the sun that means only one remains" he muttered

• You looked at him weirdly

• "and who or what may that be, Keiji" you asked knowing that his response won't ecen be connected to whatever he was blabbering about earlier

• "The tulips of Switzerland smell nice" he smiled

• you covered your mouth not wanting to disturb your boyfriend's slumber

• You were now assuming that he is now in Switzerland sniffing up flowers

• your hands that covered your mouth couldn't even lower the volume of your incoherent laugh

• And because of that Akaashi woke up

• he looked at you with slightly squinting eyes and pouty lips

• "Y/n?" He grabbed your shoulder and yawned

• "nothing's wrong, Keiji. You can go back to sleep now" you reassured and gave him a kiss on the cheek

• With that he flopped his head on the pillow and went back to his dream land

• you let out soft sigh knowing that later in the morning you and him will have a discussion about his venture in the great alps

• his habits are a combination of Akaashi and Kenma

• Which means he tends to cling on stuff and sleep talk

• But the way he does it is literally something worth witnessing at night

• it's because most of his dreams are about you

• but sometimes his dreams take a wrong turn and he ends up talking about dinosaurs

• youu were folding clothes late at night because you somehow forgot to do it earlier

• While you were putting the clothes on the closet, Hajime started on mumbling incoherent phrases

• You walked up to him and smiled seeing his puffy face

• You went to your side of the bed and gently sat on the foam not wanting to wake him up

• You layed down and faced his back

• Iwaizumi was quick on turning around and pulling you close to him

• you smiled to yourself thinking how lucky you must be to have him

• As your thoughts were wondering to who knows where

• Iwaizumi started on talking

• "Y/n....y/n is nice" he muttered "i'm a lucky bastard" he smiled

• "Ain't that right, Barney?" He chuckled

• "go on kill em all you purple menace" he muttered

• you sighed hearing his dreams were about Barney probably eating civilians

• you closed your eyes, tomorrow morning he would probably talk about him and barney being pals and committing a crime

• Has a habit of sleeping late like hey r u kenma or smth jkjk

• but yeah he has a habit of sleeping when the sun comes out

• But as he sleeps he tends to hold your hand

• Yes he holds your hand when he's asleep

• and why does he end up holding your hand while sleeping?

• It's something that he used to do as a child

• Everytime his mother would lul him to sleep his little hand would hold his mother's finger till he was asleep

• and now he carried that until now

• As you and him were about to finish one last episode from a netflix show

• He suddenly held your hand gently rubbing the back of your palm

• You moved your head to his chest and heaved a sigh

• he then placed his hand on the crown of your hand gently massaging it.

• You closed your eyes, liking the way his hands were massaging your head

• And you soon feel asleep

• Him on the other hand wanted to binge on another show

• And so he carried on watching,hand still entwined with yours

• As the show started to end, the sun then started to rise

• he looked at the clock and let out a silent yawn not wanting to wake you up

• He layed his head on the pillow, facing your sleeping face

• he smiled and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead

• He slowly closed his eyes and slowly drifted to sleep

• After a few hours, you woke up to the T.V. still on and a sleeping Suna

• you sat up, wanting to grab the remote on the edge of the bed you moved your hand

• But Suna was holding it in place

• "My what a clingy baby" you muttered

• "stay here for a while" he placed his other hand on your back and pulled you closer to him

• he slowly lifted your hand and gave it a kiss earning a chuckle from you

• And with that you went back to sleep, smiling at the thought of his little habit of holding your hand

©️ madmilkboi 2021 do not copy or repost.

🏷: @crescenttooru @leronddesorciere @fleurdedyo @owlnymph (shoot an ask or dm if u wanna be added on my taglist! ^v^)

[golden-barnes]

First of many

Summary: This is your first anniversary with Spencer. And it’s nerve racking.

Pairing: Spencer Reid X GN!Reader

Content/Warning: Just fluff cause I’m a softie. But a few curse words and mention of anxiety.

Word Count: 2,021

Author’s note: I wrote this for @homoose​ ‘s creator challenge because I love her Spencer fics. I am so happy that you reached 2k, you deserve it and more. 

Spencer was, scrolling through Netflix, while you were getting some snacks. He came across Pan’s Labyrinth, which was the first movie the two of you had ever watched. 

Very early on you had realized that Spencer hasn’t watched a lot of pop culture-relevant movies and that’s when you decided that they would have mini movie marathons to get him caught up. Spencer smiled at the memory that was in the first months of your relationship. And then it hit him, like a bag of bricks. 

Their first anniversary was coming up. Real soon. Like in two weeks soon. How could Spencer forget? He had an eidetic memory. It’s just that everything was just so fast and nice, that it seems like time passed him by and he didn’t even notice. He didn’t have to stress about anything, everything came naturally between you two. 

Yes, there were ups and downs. Spencer is a stubborn man and you can be even more stubborn. He would try to protect you by closing off, you would call him out on it. He had his bad days and you had her bad days too, but would always talk it out and resolve it.

He loved you with all his might and you had made this year incredible. He felt at home when he was with you. He never imagined being able to feel this love for a singular person. And he was excited to show you. 

One problem though; this was the first time one of his relationships has lasted more than a few months. He didn’t know how to start. He didn’t know the proper etiquette for anniversaries. Hell, he had never read any literature about how to celebrate an anniversary. Fuck, what was he going to do? 

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, while waiting for the popcorn to be done to get back to cuddling with your boyfriend, You had an inkling that you were missing something. It was like an itch you couldn’t scratch. You grabbed your phone to see if there was anything that would help you remember. But nothing. You still felt something wasn’t right. That’s when you saw it.

You knew you weren’t going to remember, you didn’t have Spencer’s memory. You wrote it on your calendar that was on the fridge. It was right there, with a red heart around the day and everything. Fuck.

Your anniversary was coming up. And you had no idea what to do. But that wasn’t the most stressful thing about the entire thing. It was that it was a reminder that you were Spencer’s longest relationship and this was the first time he has ever lasted a year with someone.

Spencer told you in the beginning about his woes and struggles with dating and being in a relationship. You found it adorable how nervous he was trying to figure out how to manage these relationship things. You even heard him talking to Derek and Luke one night to get advice. 

Thankfully, he was much more comfortable now and realized that he just had to be himself. But those first months were filled with you reassuring Spencer that he didn’t have to change or anything. That you loved him just the way he was.

That’s why you wanted to make this day special for Spencer. To celebrate that you have overcome multiple obstacles and are still together, one year later. To show him that he was the best boyfriend you could ever wish for. But, how can you do that? How can you make this the perfect day for the certified genius that was sitting in the living room? 

Out of all his friends, he knew only one of them could help him. Someone with the creativity, the passion for love, and the knowledge of you and that was Miss Penelope Garcia. Before he could even finish his sentence, she already knew what to do. 

She grabbed a piece of paper off her desk and started to scribble some words down. 

“Okay, boy wonder, you will meet me here after your last class. I will not accept any excuses. ” She gave Spencer a piece of paper. He smiled at his friend.

“Oh, I’m not done yet, mighty professor. How do you feel about shopping?” Spencer’s eyes widened. Shopping with Garcia wasn’t an easy thing, or so he heard from JJ.

“Hey, Reid! What are you doing here?” Luke said, poking his head from the door. 

“I- uhm. My classes are later in the day and I wanted to ask Garcia something.” Spencer told his friend, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Luke smiled at the brunet and turned his attention to Garcia. 

“It’s Spencer and Y/N anniversary in a couple of weeks and we are gonna help our beautiful genius.”  She said with the biggest smile. Luke laughed at Spencer’s confusion.

“Oh, this gonna be so much fun.” Garcia clapped.

You, on the other hand, were on a phone call with Emily ranting about it. You had no idea how to start. You knew what you were going to get him, sorta. Okay, you thought about one thing. But it wasn’t enough. It didn’t feel like enough.

“Y/N, calm down.” Emily laughed.

“Emily! Please, I need your help.” You groaned while Emily let another laugh. 

“How about a picnic?” She suggested.

“I don’t know. He probably won’t like the grass being close to the food. And then there’s all the people at the park. I don’t think Spencer would enjoy all the germs there must be. ” You rubbed your eyes, stressing out.

“Well, picnics don’t have to be in parks.” And that, folks, is why in Emily Prentiss we trust. You both started scheming to make this the best anniversary ever.

It wasn’t a competition but not even an unbiased jury of profilers and behavior specialists can decipher which one of you two was more nervous. 

On one hand, we had Spencer checking his gift that he put in the backseat so you wouldn’t be able to peak. His head wasn’t even in the conversation you were trying to form, keyword trying. He just felt his hands getting clammy. His heart was in his throat, not literally but he felt it. He had never done something like this.

Then, on the other hand, we had you. Gripping the steering wheel as if someone was going to rip it from you. You were trying to calm yourself down by talking with Spencer but he kept looking over his shoulder, staring at the gift he got you. He said he wasn’t gonna show it to you till you reached your destination. The minute you saw a big purple gift bag, you felt your heart stop. But also your brain starts to run. What if he didn’t like your gifts? 

You parked in front of the location and turned off the car. Spencer gave you a soft smile and grabbed your hand. He kissed it and rubbed the place where he planted the kiss.

“What was that for?” You giggled. 

“No reason. Just because I love you.” He gave you a wink. You grabbed his face and pulled him in for a soft kiss.

“C’mon, sweetie. Let’s go.” You opened your car door and headed out. You entered the place, trying to set out everything.

“You can do this, Reid.” Spencer took a deep breath, grabbed the gift, and headed to where you were. 

Spencer knocked on the door and quickly you opened it. You gave him a smile and let him in. Spencer gasped.

“Ta-da!” It was an art gallery, filled with brand new paintings and unknown artists. But in the middle of the room, there was a blanket, a light candle, and a picnic basket. 

“What? I- How did you do this?" Spencer couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was just too overwhelming.

"Well, Emily Prentiss has friends in high places. And one of them just so happened to own this gallery." You explained, grabbing his hands leading him to the blanket. "So what do you think?" 

"I love it so much! It's- Woah." Spencer was speechless. His eyes were sparkling with love. He couldn't believe it.

"Did I just render doctor Spencer Reid speechless?" You joked, Spencer rolled his eyes.

"You know it's not that difficult for you." You smiled at his words. Spencer remembered his gift and started to scratch his neck nervously. How could he top this? What he didn’t realize is that you are still nervous.

"Do you- uhm- want to have your gift right now?" He grabbed the purple gift bag, clenching it close to his heart. 

“Well if you want to.” You said, trying to ease his discomfort. 

“I mean you already gave me my present and it was spectacular. It’s only fair and just that I give you yours. Obviously, if you want to wait it’s fine by me. Or if you don’t want it till we get home, I understand. I-” Spencer rambled, before being cut off by you.

“Spence, hey, calm down. First of all, this isn’t your only gift.” You stated. Spencer looked at you strangely. 

“Woah, it’s not that I don’t appreciate the thought, but this is enough. I mean look at this. This is incredible. I can’t believe you did this. I love everything about it. It’s the best way to have a picnic. ” He exclaimed. You chuckled at your boyfriend’s excitement. 

“It’s just a small thing. Don’t worry about it. Now.” You made grabby hands at him, and he laughed while giving you the gift. You opened the bag to see a familiar color purple ball of yarn, a box, and a little book.

“I know you like my purple scarf and since I take it to cases sometimes, so I made you one.” You pulled the scarf out of the bag.

“How?” You gasped. 

“Garcia took me to this recreational center she volunteers at and they had a knitting class. I don’t know, it just made sense.” Spence explained. 

“It’s even warmer than yours.” You said putting it around your neck. Spencer’s heart clenched. “Wait, there’s more. Right.” You pulled the box out of the bag and opened it. It was a simple gold necklace with an S on it. You gasped at the gift. 

“Spencer, I-” “That’s not all. Look at the book.” It was a simple leather small letter notebook. You gave Spencer a look, to which he responded by giving you a reassuring smile.

You opened it to see Spencer’s writing on the first page. 

Whenever you are feeling sad, lonely, or need a pick me up, read a page from this book.

With love, Spencer 

“They are a collection of love letters. Or messages meant to be in love letters, to you.” He said softly.

“Oh, Spencer!.” You pulled into a hug. He gripped you tightly. You pulled away and started peppering kisses all over his face.

“I love you so much.” You said, grabbing his face. He smiled. Something Spencer loved was when you hold his face in your hands. It made him feel safe and loved.

“And I love you.” He leaned in and kissed you. You pulled away first and gave him a smile.

“‘Now time for your present.” You opened the basket to pull out a box. Spencer grabbed the box out of your hands and started to take off the gift wrap. Spencer gasped, his eyes almost bulging out of his skull.

“You didn’t.” He said his eyes never leaving the book in his hands. You chuckled. Spencer had recently been going through all of his mom’s scrapbooks. And you would sit in his lap while he explained every picture and every article. It was like a therapeutic thing. So you decided you wanted to make one for you guys. 

“Oh but I did.” You winked at him. He went through the pictures with tears in his eyes. A year’s worth of memories, right there. He noticed there were a couple of blank pages.

“For the years to come.” You said softly. 

“For the years to come.” Spencer repeated.

[andypantsx3]

if i could keep cool | 2

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 20,322 words / 6 chapters

summary: A villain attacks Shouto Todoroki’s apartment and kidnaps what he apparently believes to be Todoroki’s secret lover. The bad news—for both you and the villain in question—is that you’re just there to clean the place. That’s how it starts.

tags: romance, reader-insert, accidental sugar daddy shouto, misunderstandings

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

You spent the next week with your stomach in knots.

Why had you told Shouto Todoroki to go fuck himself? He was being a total asshole, sure, but couldn’t you have kept your cool for like thirty seconds? He was going to call your boss at the cleaning service and tell her exactly what you had said to him, and then not only would you be dismissed from service at his apartment, but then you’d be so fucking fired from your entire job. You could kiss more than your Netflix subscription and fresh vegetables goodbye--your whole food and rent budget was going to hemorrhage and bleed dry.

You’d clocked into your next few shifts with baited breath, just waiting for the moment your boss demanded to speak with you in her office, shock and disappointment twisting her matronly features. Only, the entire week passed, and the call never seemed to come.

Even more confusingly, no guidance had seemed to be issued at all about the fact that you weren’t welcome in Todoroki’s apartment anymore. Your manager never said anything, never spoke to you about reassignment or a schedule change, had only asked if you felt well enough to continue to pick up your shifts in the week after the incident. She’d made a little quip about hazard pay, but hadn’t even acknowledged the incident beyond that.

So when the next Thursday rolled around and your morning lecture let out, you had no idea if you were supposed to head over to Todoroki’s apartment or not.

You stood outside the lecture hall, considering. On the one hand, you could call and ask your manager exactly what the expectations were. On the other, however, if she didn’t already know, then you telling her was going to surface the fact that he’d fired you, and that was going to lead to a more uncomfortable conversation about your employment overall. But maybe she did know, and just hadn’t mentioned it to you? What if Todoroki had just assumed that you would tell her, though, and they would send someone else in your place? If no one showed up to clean, he was going to call, and then you were going to get fired.

You started a slow path towards his apartment. Maybe you could just show up to check and see if any of your coworkers had been sent in your place. And if they hadn’t, you could finish out your last shift there. Besides, the schedule had been set specifically for when he was supposed to be out of the apartment, so it wasn’t like he was going to be there to see that it was you who was doing the cleaning. You could grab the last of the hefty tips and store that up for when you had to switch out with someone in the next week. And then all would be solved, and your Netflix subscription was the only thing that would really suffer for it.

You tapped your foot nervously as you rode the train further into downtown where he lived. Come to think of it, no one had asked you to pass off the keys to his place. Had he really not told your manager that he’d given you the boot?

The flames of your suspicion were fanned when security in the lobby of his building seemed unphased by your presence, and were confirmed when you took the elevator up to his floor and unlocked his door to peek through--none of your coworkers were in sight.

He hadn’t told anyone.

You took a few nervous steps into the apartment, shutting the door quietly behind you. You shouldered off your backpack, dumping it on one of the high stools at the kitchen island and looked around curiously. The glass from the shattered windows had been swept up, and the windows already replaced. Nothing else appeared out of order, no other evidence that the last time you’d been in here, you’d been kidnapped and almost killed.

The thought sent a shiver down your spine. You’d clean this place at lightning speed, grab your tip, and peace the absolute fuck out before anything more could happen.

You ducked down under the kitchen sink to fish out your usual supplies, pulling on a pair of gloves and grabbing the duster, a microfiber cloth, and a couple of the disinfectants and solutions. You had just piled it all on the counter and were reaching down to grab more when you heard the soft snick of a door opening.

You immediately ducked down behind the counter, and your arm shot out to grab a bottle of windex like it would do anything to protect you from whoever was approaching the kitchen with quiet footsteps. Maybe you could spray it in their eyes and make a run for it.

You stared in the direction of the footfalls, heart beating wildly in your chest.

There was a pause, and then a deep voice issued from over the counter top. “I know you’re there.”

You bit back a swear. You knew that voice, and this was even worse than encountering another villain in his apartment.

Slowly, you climbed to your feet, stomach sinking. That pair of two-toned eyes fixed on you unblinkingly, and a carefully-crafted mask of blank stillness slid over his handsome features. It was too deliberate, and your last hope that maybe he wouldn’t remember you was snuffed out like a candle in the wind.

“I, uh, thought you weren’t supposed to be here,” you said by way of explanation, cringing. You were so absolutely fucked.

He considered you carefully. You noted he was wearing a deep blue button up over white trousers, which was decidedly not his hero uniform, and any hope of him being on his way out to patrol was similarly extinguished.

“I owe you an apology,” he said quietly.

You startled so violently that you dropped the windex. “W-what?”

His eyes tracked you closely, and you felt like you might burst into flame from the intensity of his focus. “I was...mistaken about who you were.”

You stared at him incredulously. How could he be mistaken about who you were if he had no damn idea in the first place?

Your confusion must have shown clearly on your face, because he sighed. “My manager schedules the cleaning days. I didn’t realize that you were--that is to say, I thought you were a fan who had broken in and managed to get kidnapped while you were at it.”

You gaped. He’d thought you were a crazy fan? Suddenly, his comments about your stupidity and you invading his privacy made complete sense. Maybe just after being rescued was not the time for him to have made those comments, but you could see why he had, if he’d thought you had forced your way into his home and had been in the process of going through his things before you were surprised by a villain.

“Oh, I, um...nope. Not a fan,” you managed. Well, yes a fan, but not in a breaking and entering kind of a way. And not a fan in the last week. Your twitter, which had previously featured the occasional retweeted shot of his abs, had now been filled with a lot of anti-Todoroki content, including one truly horrible picture of him photoshopped with a half ice, half flame beard, looking horrendously like his father.

Todoroki let out a slow breath, and you thought you could see it mist in the apartment air. Was his quirk acting up? He must still be annoyed, regardless.

“Well glad that’s cleared up now. I’ll just, uh, go then,” you said, grabbing an armful of the cleaning supplies and shoving it back under the sink hastily. When you stood back up, you almost had a heart attack, as he had rounded the counter so quietly that you hadn’t heard him, and was now standing in between you and your escape.

“Wait,” he said, looking uncomfortable. “I want to make up for what I said to you. You...didn’t deserve that, especially not right after you’d just been kidnapped by a villain.”

You eyed the space between his hip and the counter, wondering if you should make a break for it anyway, and if his hero reflexes were fast enough to stop you. The air in the apartment was growing increasingly discomfiting and it was clear Todoroki hated this.

You waved a hand. “It’s fine. You saved me, we can call it even.”

Something flashed behind his eyes. “It’s my fault you were taken in the first place. I'd like to apologize properly.”

Your own sense of shame slowly crept up on you and your face burned as you suddenly remembered the way you’d told him to go fuck himself. He’d been a douche to you, yes, but he’d literally saved your life and you’d told him to go fuck himself.

You accidentally blurted as much. “You don’t actually have to go fuck yourself.”

He stared at you, and your cheeks heated. Jesus Christ, you needed to leave.

“Uh, I mean. You saved my life,” you babbled, suddenly desperate to put conversational distance from the phrase go fuck yourself. “And yeah what you said to me was super rude, but what I said to you was also super rude. So, um, I’m sorry too. And I really would just like to call it even and forget about it because it’s super embarrassing for both of us and I could literally die thinking about it.”

You could admit, now, that you knew it had been extra embarrassing for him. Even though it wasn’t your fault, in the past week, you’d seen nothing but headlines exploring the rumors that Todoroki had a secret lover. Luckily your name had been kept out of things, but even you could tell it was costing his agency a lot not to just throw the real story out there and the contact details to your cleaning service to calm the media firestorm.

You could only imagine how uncomfortable things could get for you if all of Japan got wind of what had happened, and just what you’d said to him afterwards.

“I hadn’t really planned on it,” Todoroki said, and you tilted your head in question.

“Hadn’t planned on what?”

“Fucking myself,” he clarified, looking serious, and you choked on a laugh.

A small smile tugged at his mouth, then, and some of your discomfort with him evaporated. So the hero had a sense of humor.

“Oh, well that’s good, then," you said. Then you added, "That’s probably a job for your actual secret lover.”

He raised a white eyebrow. “Not you, too.”

You threw him a smile. “But I have evidence. I saw that homemade soup in your fridge once with the love note attached.”

It took him a moment, but then Todoroki smirked. “Ah yes. That secret lover.”

“Cute pet name, too,” you said.

Todoroki let out a low laugh. “You fucking fuck, was it?”

You laughed too, tension easing from your shoulders. Maybe Todoroki wasn’t all bad, then. He had a sense of humor, it seemed, and he’d apologized to you for what he’d said. Maybe you wouldn’t be fired after all, and you could just peacefully transfer your shifts without any blowback from your manager. You could probably weasel your way into a friend’s Netflix account anyway. You’d miss the vegetables, though.

“As it happens, however, I did already plan more of an apology,” Todoroki said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You looked up at him, your brow furrowing. “You planned...more of an apology?”

He gestured to a tall vase of white tulips on the kitchen counter. They hadn’t been there any of your previous shifts, but you hadn’t really taken note of them when you’d walked in today. You’d just assumed they were sent by a fan or something.

“I’ve been told that they mean forgiveness and new beginnings. I had hoped that we might...start over,” he said. He looked a little self conscious again.

“I didn’t bring you any flowers,” you blurted.

He coughed suddenly, like he was stifling a surprised laugh. “I hadn’t expected them.”

Your eyes were drawn back to the tulips. They were pretty, their petals thick and full like they had just been about to bloom before they were picked, and they were stark white, like fresh snow, or the right half of Todoroki’s distinctive mop of hair. You hadn’t ever been given flowers before, except for the time you’d graduated middle school. Flowers from your aunt didn’t really count, though.

“Thank you,” you said, looking back up at Todoroki. He was watching you closely, and you felt embarrassment prickle over your skin at being stared at with such intensity. Was he always this intense? Various twitter memes had suggested yes, but it was one thing to know it abstractly and another to experience it in real life, especially when he was even more overwhelming to look at in person.

Now that your anger with him had burned away, you could admit that Shouto Todoroki was way too handsome for anyone’s good, least of all yours. He was tall, leanly muscled, and broad across the shoulders with a trim waist and impossibly long legs. His face, too, was almost unreal, so carefully and perfectly structured with a high-bridged nose, a soft, sensuous mouth, and bright, intelligent eyes. Even the scar only added interest, and did absolutely nothing to detract from the striking beauty of his features.

It was honestly a surprise that you’d managed to get any words out around him at all. You supposed you had the novelty of the situation you’d found yourself in to thank for that. If you’d met him under any other circumstances you probably would have choked on your own tongue and tried to disappear as fast as you could manage.

Pretty boys were not your area of expertise.

“I also wanted to make it clear that I didn’t mean what I said,” Todoroki added in his low tone. “About your being unwelcome here. I don’t intend to interfere with your employment.”

You considered him in surprise. Did this mean...you weren’t resigned to ramen for the next two semesters?

“That’s good to hear, thank you,” you said. Then you smiled, feeling charitable. “As you can see, though, it didn’t really deter me.”

Todoroki smirked. “If I hadn’t seen the cleaning supplies already on the counter, I would be concerned that you’d come back for revenge.”

“There’s still time,” you joked. “Maybe I was going to play the long game and fill all the bottles with Sprite.”

He let out another surprised laugh. “I hope the flowers are enough of a deterrent.”

You looked over the flowers again, then smiled up at him. “The bribe has been accepted. Your countertops are safe from me.” You paused, then added, “For now.”

Something strangely like a challenge glinted in his eyes. “Be warned that I will do whatever it takes to ensure the safety of my countertops.”

“You don’t even use them,” you complained, “I can tell. But message received, I’ll spare them.” Your eyes searched back over them, and it dawned on you that you hadn’t been fired, and should probably actually be cleaning them if you intended to keep the job after all. “Now clear out, I do actually have to clean them now.”

Todoroki allowed himself to be bullied out of the kitchen fairly easily, though he didn’t go far.

He took a seat in the living room, which thanks to the open floor plan of his modern apartment, allowed him to supervise you easily enough. He pulled down a book from one of his shelves, but either it was super boring or he wasn’t any good at pretending to read, as it stayed flipped open to the first page for a very long time, and you thought you caught more than the occasional flash of curious grey and blue from the corner of your eye.

He didn’t last long past the first hour of pretending to read, however, and eventually wandered back over to sit at the island while you worked. He launched into a series of questions about you, and seemed genuinely curious about you now that he’d confirmed for himself that you weren’t a crazy stalker fan.

You couldn’t understand why he seemed so interested, but you found yourself telling him anything he wanted to know, detailing your classes, your cranky roommate, your job at the cleaning service to feed you during the semester, the fattie deal on broccoli you’d scored at the grocery store last week, and finally your hobbies including your love of reading, though you hadn’t had much time or budget for books since the school year began. You made sure to steer clear of any mention of your twitter, though, and the multitude of ab shots and recent slew of anti-Todoroki content on it. There was only so much of your life that could be shared with a celebrity hero.

Eventually, you’d covered all your usual ground, and had shouldered on your backpack to leave for the night, but Todoroki stopped you, and insisted on calling you a car home as it had gotten dark. You tried to decline, but on this point he seemed adamant, and not long after you found yourself bundled into the backseat of an agency car, vase of white tulips clutched in your hands.

It was only after you’d let yourself into your apartment and set down the tulips and your bag that you discovered a much thicker bundle of a tip than usual tucked into the side pocket of your backpack. You blanched as you unfolded the bills, staring somewhat stupidly down at the amount. A slim note had been tucked into the fold of the bills, and though you weren’t familiar with the neat handwriting and hadn’t even seen him go for a pen and paper, the note for vegetables was so clearly from Todoroki.

Worse, it told you that Todoroki had actually been listening to your ramblings, and you wondered what other weird things you’d said that had caught his interest enough for him to remember. You hoped nothing else, and that he’d forget it all soon enough anyway. You’d made nice now, but it wasn’t like you guys were going to be fast friends or anything.

You considered the money for a long while, then picked out the amount that was usually left out for you and added it to your wallet. Torodoki had admitted earlier that his manager handled the cleaning service scheduling, and it was likely she was typically responsible for leaving a tip aside for you as well. Todoroki probably didn’t know how much she usually left, and as much as you desperately wanted to pocket the rest of the cash and make a break for the nearest vegetable aisle, you felt weird accepting it.

You could return it during your shift early next week, and that would close out the weird fever dream that the past week had been.

And then, you could finally get back to normal.

[all-my-love-for-harry]

Not yours.

summary: someone tries to force their way back to y/n's life and harry isn't having any of it.

word count: ----

based on these requests:

“also!! what about something angsty? maybe artemis gets hurt or something and harry is just in full on dad mode”

and 

“What about caleb seeing the trio on tabloids, so he gets slightly jealous and “want’s” back into Artemis’ life unexpectedly.”

and

“ could you write something for my shy little boy about Artemis real father finding out that harry adopted him and showing up at their house claiming that Artemis is his son and basically trying to claim his rights as a father, and harry gets REALLY protective, plsss i would love that concept”

and

“Can you do one in the shy little boy universe where Artemis's dad tries to come back in his life or something. Like he sees them and he's life 'give me a second chance' . I love your writing. Thanks”

you can find more of my shy little boy here

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

November, 2019.

Park days were the best days for the Styles family. They didn’t get to have them as much as they’d like as they were always so busy, but today was an off day and Artemis was responsible for choosing what they were going to do. And of course he chose the park.

Y/N packed some snacks in a picnic basket while Harry took the job of dressing Artemis up. Obviously Artemis ended up way too dress up for just going to the park but it wasn’t a secret Harry was crazy about them wearing the same color or matching outfits to go out.

Harry had picked a pair of white shorts and paired it with a pastel yellow polo shirt he tucked into the shorts. Artemis looked adorable although Harry knew his son most likely get the clothes dirty as soon as they arrive to the park.

“Daddy, my nose itches.” Artemis tried to take off his glasses but Harry stopped him.

Last month they had an appointment with the ophthalmologist and Artemis had to change his glasses at his doctor's request. But Artemis wasn't happy with his new ones, he was always looking for an excuse to take them off or hiding them from his parents.

"Better?" Harry asked, using his fingers to scratch softly where Artemis pointed it itched. The much smaller boy nodded. "You need the glasses, sweetheart. Don't take them off."

"I like my old ones better, why can't i have those?"

"Those doesn't work for you anymore, monkey." He explained. "C'mon, let's put your shoes on." Harry knelt in front of him to watch how Artemis ties his sneakers up, he smiled when his son made it without a problem.

"I just put the things in the car, are you ready?" Y/N said when she saw them coming down the stairs.

"Yes! Let's go, let's go!" Artemis almost jumped from the lasts steps.

Artemis rambled the entire ride about all the fun things they’d do together once they got there, constantly asking if they were at the park already. When they arrived, Harry was surprised it wasn’t so full of people, considering it was the weekend. Y/N unfolded the blanket on the grass, laying the stuff they brought.

“Daddy, let’s play.” Artemis pulled from Harry’s arm, making the latest chuckle.

“Just be careful, please. We don’t want you to fall.” Y/N remained her son, who was too busy running around with his dad.

It was a beautiful day outside, there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky, and the weather was perfect despite being in the middle of November. Harry had packed a Frisbee Artemis liked to use in their backyard and that’s what they were using to play.

Harry made sure to throw it softly at his son, not wanting the toy to hit him in the face. Artemis threw his hands in the air every time his daddy caught it.

Everything happened too fast, none of his parents could catch Artemis before he was face down on the grass. He had tried to throw the Frisbee higher but didn’t control his strength and he ended up on the floor.

Harry’s eyes grew wide as he ran towards the small child, his heart breaking as he heard his loud sobs. He picked him up from the grass and scooped him in his arms.

"Are you hurt? Where does it hurt, baby? Is it your arm?" He said, panic visible in his tone.

"He scraped his knees." Y/N said before cooing at Artemis, trying to calm him down. "Got some band aids for your knees, my love. It's okay." She took him in her arms and handed the band aids to Harry so he could put them on his boy's knees after cleaning the little blood that was there.

Caressing his hair softly, Y/N sat back down on the blanket, putting Artemis on her lap to wipe his tears off. "All better?" He nodded with a pout on his face.

Harry copied his son's pout, sitting next to them on the blanket. He didn't like seeing his love being upset, and he'd lie if he said he didn't feel a little guilty for him getting hurt.

"It's okay, accidents happen and sometimes we get hurt." Y/N said as if she could read Harry's thoughts. "What if we eat and then we can go for ice cream."

The smile reappeared on Artemis' face as he stood up from his mum's lap and cheered excitedly. Artemis ate whatever Y/N had packed for them, hurrying his parents so they could go get dessert.

"Are you okay?" Y/N asked Harry at the end of the day when Artemis was falling asleep on his daddy's shoulder as he carried him back to the car. "You've been quiet since he fell."

"Just worried. Should we take him to ER?"

"For scraped knees? Don't think so. Harry, it's fine, really. He doesn't even remember he has them." She assured. "Tomorrow it will be all better."

"But he cried so loud." He furrowed as they reached the car and Y/N opened the door of the backseat so Harry could put him on his carseat. "I was worried he hurt his elbow or something."

"I guess it was more out of surprise. He wasn't expecting to fall facedown on the floor." Once everything and everyone were in the car, Harry started to drive back home. "Please don't beat yourself up for this. It was literally an accident."

"But i was playing with him."

"Yes, but you couldn't have prevented it from happen."

She put a hand on his thigh, not wanting him to feel any worse from something so small. Artemis doesn't have a lot of accidents as he is a calm boy who doesn't play sports or anything that requires running or jumping, but when they happen, he gets scared and that's normal. No kid likes to see blood coming out of them, even if it's only a little.

"As a parent the best you can do is stay calm during these situations. If you don't panic, then he doesn't either." She smiled at him.

Y/N loved how protective Harry was, his skills as a parent never failed to show in any situation. But he was still very new at it, and he couldn't help but want to put his boy in a little bubble so nothing bad would happen to him.

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

A week later, Y/N was cooking dinner while Artemis was upstairs in the movie room watching a cooking show on Netflix. Lately he's been obsessed with those and could watch entire seasons if his parents let him.

Harry was out having a meeting with his team but promised to be back for dinner, so it was just the two of them in the house.

The buzzer sounded, alerting someone was at the other side of the gates. Y/N put down the knife she was holding and walked towards the little screen that allowed her to see who was there.

Her breathe hitched when she saw Caleb standing there. He was looking the other way but Y/N could recognize him anywhere. A frown appeared on her face as he hit the buzzer again. She stayed in her place, starting at the screen and hoping he'd turn around and leave.

But he didn't.

She was ready to go outside and tell him to leave but she heard the gates open before she could do so. The gates opening meant Harry was home.

And home he was. But he furrowed as soon as he saw a body standing there. He didn't recognize the man but he was pretty sure he's seem his face before.

He parked inside but didn't close again the gates as he returned outside. "Can i help you?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Is Y/N home?" The stranger asked, putting his hands inside of his pockets. "I need to speak to her."

"I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Doesn't matter, i need to see Y/N."

"Uh, it does matter, actually. Why is it so important to speak to my girlfriend?" Harry questioned again in a protective tone.

Before he could answer Harry's question, Y/N came out of the house, closing the door behind her before rushing towards the two man. She stood beside Harry, taking his hand in hers.

"What are you doing here, Caleb?" She asked and Harry's brain finally clicked. He looked so different from the only picture he's seen of him. "What do you want?"

"I need to see him, Y/N." Caleb said, almost in a demanding tone. Y/N looked up at Harry, who already had a deep, angry frown on his face. "I-I saw that video of you three at the park and... Y/N, i'm ready to meet my-"

"He's not your son." Harry barked angrily.

"Harry's right, Caleb. He's not yours in any way." She said sternly. "Besides, i bet it isn't the first video or picture you've seen of us, what could possibly make this one different?"

"I saw him getting hurt." He said defensively. "It.. awoke something in me. I want to be a father, Y/N."

"Then go ahead and get a family of your own because neither Artemis nor I have anything to do with you. Do i have to remind you, you signed the paper giving up your paternal rights?" Y/N started to get angry and Harry squeezed her hand.

"I was twenty-one, Y/N."

"So was I!" She now exclaimed.

"I think it's best if you leave." Harry spoke again, trying to control his anger before he punched that man straight on the face.

"And you are?" Caleb asked "Oh, right. You're the guy she replaced me with. Does my son calls you daddy too?"

"She didn't replace you, she just moved on with someone way better." He smirked. "And yes, my son calls me daddy, must hurt, right? Now get the fuck out of my property before i call the bloody cops."

Harry let go of Y/N's hand just to push Caleb out, not being able to hold his anger anymore. "If i ever see you close to my family, i'll fucking ruin you."

When Caleb was back on his car, Harry finally closed the gates and turned to see Y/N. "I'm sorry you had to see him, my love."

Y/N sighed. "I'm okay. I just... I hadn't seen him since he..." Her lip started trembling but she swallowed the tears. "Seeing his face brought back a lot of emotions."

"Couldn't imagine." Harry took her in his arms and kissed her forehead. "But you won't see him anymore, over my dead body."

"Thank you."

Harry smiled softly at her, supping her face with his hands and pecking her lips. "Thank you for letting me be the one by your side."

"I wouldn't dream of having anyone else."

☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁

taglist!!

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[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Finale

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 10 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings in this Chapter: strong language; slight reference to past sexual abuse; fluff 

Word Count: 6,700+

Author’s Note: Guys... the finale! I’m crying actual tears lmao. Thank you for reading my words. It means the world.

~

The New Compound, July 2025, 7:09pm

      The extra hour of sunlight this time of year was the easiest excuse to use for lounging on the roof to watch the sun set slowly. The compound no longer touches the clouds, but it still provides a rich view of the landscape across. There is no blowing of horns or shouts of the road hecklers; it’s a simple hour of solace to rest your chin against your arms, eat your snacks, and watch the sky change colors until nothing remains but the possibility of counting the stars. 

“Hey… can I sit here?”

Your heart does a little jump at the sound of his voice. Traitor, you want to say to the pesky organ, but remain quiet as Steve wanders over to stand by you. He’s close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. 

“Do what you will, Captain.” It’s simple enough of a response, you figure. You look down at the granola bar in your hand, turning it over a few times before rolling your eyes at the silly gesture. “Granola bar?”

He nods, watching as you snap it in half, and grabs the piece. “Thanks.”

You eat in cooperative silence. You take small bites, saving the granola bar so you have something to focus on during the length of time Steve decides to stay up here. He seems to be doing the same. “So what brings you out here? Another depressive episode?”

“I happen to have the perfect amount of depressive episodes, thank you very much.”

You snort, “Ditto.”

He takes a small bite and rolls the granola over his tongue. “No, I uh… I actually came out here to watch the sunset.”

“That’s sweet.” You shrug and admit your reason to him without a second thought. “I came out here to be sad, so.”

“Thor’s visit isn’t doing you any good?”

Thor is genuinely looking better. He’s started braiding his hair again, exercising with the help of Quill and Bruce, and participating in conversation without being addressed first. Seeing him makes you happy, but there’s still a glint in his eyes that reminds you of the lowest point of his life. And his lowest point was also yours. Sometimes you just want to forget. “He looks better. Healthier, got some light back in his eyes. It’s just whenever we look at each other we think of the same thing, I guess.”

Steve hums low and his shoulder brushes yours. “Loki.”

“It’s good to reminisce and all but I’ve got my limits,” you say.

“What was the special connection between you and Loki anyway?”

You grin at such an innocent question. Steve had never been close to Loki, didn’t really like him much, but he tolerated the God wandering about. You figure he genuinely wants to know. “I met him a little bit before I was assaulted. Everyone in the compound had their suspicions but no one asked. It was like they were avoiding me but also trying to help, I don’t really know. It was a weird time. And Loki, after we caught that dragon thing and really, really properly met, just straight up asked me why I was so distant all of a sudden.” Your chest warms at the memory.  “I told him. And you know what the first thing he said to me was?”   

Steve shakes his head a little and his eyes follow the tilt of your mouth. “‘What a cunt’.”  

He startles himself into a laugh, the rough word not expected. You continue, “It was the first time I laughed in four months.”

Steve follows your gaze out to the sunset. He suddenly feels guilty, out of the loop, sad. You had only mentioned your assault to him once when you discovered Tony’s afterlife gifts, and he never brought it up again. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you were-”

“Bucky had just moved into the tower and all of your attention was on him. I don’t blame you for not seeing me.”

It’s true, but Steve doesn’t forgive himself. He’s had two years to check up on you and because of his own selfish choice, he’s let you slip from his fingers. A question bubbles from the back of his mind — one that he doesn’t think twice about finally asking. If he does, he won’t ask.  “Do you miss… me?”

“That’s a stupid question.”

“Sam put the idea in my head and—”

You sigh, “Steve, it’s the fact that he had to put the idea in your head. I can lie and say I’ve been all fine and dandy, or I can tell the truth and say I’ve been all fine and dandy. Take your pick.”

Steve stares at you for a long moment, mouth parting around invisible words. You’re staring at the sunset, avoiding his gaze but aware of his eyes on you, and he misses you. He truly, terribly, misses you. He decides he’s got nothing more to lose — he’s already lost you. “Well, I miss you. Do with that what you will.”

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes: wind in your ears, legs shifting when too much weight has been applied, tiny sniffs of the nose. You don’t really know what to do with that information. Steve misses you. And you miss him. But he doesn’t deserve to know that. There’s been no apology from him, just things he’ll do to appease Sam. 

At the three minute mark, you groan quietly and turn to him. “Are you seriously still going to watch the sunset up here?”

Steve smirks and watches you from his peripheral. He really has missed being on the receiving end of your various tones of voices. “I have been told that I’m impossible to get rid of, so yeah.”

His company isn’t all that bad.  

Present Day, 2025, 9:07am

      Perhaps there were good things that came from being locked up for over two weeks, alone. Last time you were locked up with the team and there was absolutely no special treatment after that. Now you’re resisting the urge to burst out laughing as Steve piles on the seventh massive pancake on your plate; or rolling your eyes as Sam keeps asking if you want more maple syrup — ‘What flavor? We’ve got six!’ — and Peter’s drowning Bucky with questions about who he encountered at the wedding. 

“Is it the same as Netflix Narcos?”

“No,” you say bluntly. 

“Is the Amazon series legit? Like, did Omar really kill the DEA agent?”

“No.”

“Is Omar as evil as they say?”

“No.”

“Damn,” Peter groans, piling a forkful of pancakes into his mouth. “Nothing’s as exciting as it seems, huh?”

Everyone looks to him, then to each other.

Steve clears his throat, “I was literally shot.”

Mouth full, you follow. “And I was abused for years.”

“And I had to deal with them while with HYDRA,” Bucky says with his mouth full too.

“Man, they shot at me. That counts,” Sam adds.

“And I finally got to use the shield. While being shot at,” Scott says.

You interject, “Technically I was being shot at.”

Even with such a cloud of violence, with gruesome memories — memories that would just be shoveled into the pile of things that no one is ever going to talk about again  — you all begin laughing. Poor Peter missed out on a lot, but he can put two and two together. He knows this is his only chance to ask before you all lock it away and call it just another mission. It doesn’t hurt to humor him. 

And even though you won’t mention it to any one else unless they ask — this wasn’t just another mission for you or Steve. Things have changed and the both of you know it. The aches within your chest are no longer negative or a bother, but instead are blooming flowers that have laid dormant for years. You’ve been plucking petals for as long as the two of you can remember, and it’s about damn time you both end up on the same page. 

Everything has been quiet. Sure, there are bounties on everyone’s head but when is there not? You’ve pissed off more cartel leaders and gang leaders and political enemies than you can count on two hands, so this enemy territory is not all that foreign. You recognize the high trees, the gray skies, the mud beneath your boots. But you’ve got friends on your team that know how to climb those trees; friends on your team that know how to move the clouds and make the sky the talk; friends on your team that would hump through mud and snow watching your six. 

You can’t believe you even thought about leaving after the mission in the first place. This is where you belong, where all of you belong, because you’re the only ones with good hearts who qualify for the job. 

As breakfast winds down, Steve takes the opportunity to sprinkle in moments of long-awaited public displays of affection. When you go to refill your orange juice, he sneaks a kiss on your cheek. When you go to wash your plate, he makes sure Peter is looking the other way before patting your ass. And when you’re the one to envelope his slim waist from behind, he melts in your combined warmth.  

“So, about our date,” Steve inquires, cheeks turning pink but voice unwavering. He looks brand new, refreshed, and there’s a shine in his eyes that you haven’t seen since forever. You can’t remember the last time you have, but you figure it must have been back when the world hadn’t yet swallowed him whole. Now, he’s burning bright with the youth his soul has missed. 

You jump up and down, “Ooo, exciting!”

Steve takes you by the waist, swinging you in every direction. It’s uncoordinated, messy, and not exactly dancing but it’s pure. “Chinese? Pizza? Just fries?”

“¿Por qué no los tres?” Pursing your lips, you wait for his answer. 

“That can be arranged.”

You gasp dramatically, “You’re spoiling me.”

“Well I have two years to make up for it.”

That startles a laugh from deep inside your chest. “That’s gonna be our inside joke now, huh? Two of the worst years of our lives and we’re joking about it.”

He blushes along with you. “I think that describes our relationship perfectly.”

“Our relationship…” Your voice comes out like a melodic whisper and Steve feels it in his bones.

He grins down at you but before he can respond, someone enters the common room rather cautiously. 

“Oh, now what the hell are you doing here?” Steve demands, pushing you to stand behind him. The gesture is nice, but completely unnecessary. Friday would have alerted the team if someone entered the grounds armed. 

Agent Kavert raises his hands, “Relax. I’m not here to arrest you or anything.”

Steve tries to move his shoulders in a way where Agent Kavert can’t see your head. But you maneuver around him, somehow ending up peeking your head through Steve’s underarm. “If I know the law, and I think I do, you can’t really arrest someone in their own house anyway, right?” You pat Steve repeatedly on his side. “Right?”

Before Steve can respond, Agent Kavert speaks. With Steve guarding you, it seems the only thing Agent Kavert wants to do is get in and get out as fast as he can. “I just came to apologize. Ballistics came back and the evidence does show that you didn’t kill Ernesto Vega. It was Ramirez’s issued gun.”

Yeah, you think. The gun Seda stole.

“Oh, what a breath of relief! I almost forgot I was there.”

He sighs and his lips pull into a small smile. “You’re not gonna tell me where Ramirez is, huh?”

Steve takes this as his cue to leave you two alone, but not before squeezing your hand on his way out. He nods over to Peter, who’s still crouching in the kitchen, unseen by Kavert. Peter gives him an enthusiastic thumbs up,  happy to spy for his Captain. But you know he’s really asking Peter to take care of you while he’s gone.  

You let out a heavy sigh. Omar has been wanted for years for another murder he didn’t even commit. And now, he’s wanted for another. He may be a giant with morals, but even he can’t escape the gruesome reality that plagues the wicked. 

“I don’t even know where he is. If you came looking for answers—”

“No, I just… Everything’s been so fucked up since half the universe came back. And the possibility of an Avenger being bad, having played us for years — I think it just scared a lot of people.” Agent Kavert actually looks sincere. He adjusts his footing and chuckles a little under his breath. There’s a fine line creasing his forehead, but it isn’t formed from stress. He’s smiling, an honest look, and his eyebrows pull inward. “And Shakespeare? Really?”

Rolling your eyes, you shrug and lean back against the counter. “When half the world disappears and takes your family and friends with it, there’s really not much else to do.” 

And besides, Loki was really into Shakespeare.

You continue, deciding at the last second to throw Agent Kavert a bone about your past. “Shield didn’t know but Nick Fury did. So did Pierce. And when Shield fell, Fury just hid it even more.” You give him a half smile. “We weren’t helping the cartel. We were slowly taking it apart.”

Agent Kavert nods, thinking it over. “The deal Jackeline made with us was pretty simple. She’d tell us all the inside secrets that she knew and in exchange, no charges against her and none so serious for you.”

Your shoulders slump and you shoot him a blank stare. “Was it really that simple? Like, I could have just used her as my one free call?”

“Joke all you want. You should have called us when Shield fell. The double agent thing was risky and everyone needs help taking down a giant like that.”

“I did have help. Involving more people was never planned.”

“He was just as much our mission as he was yours.”

Agent Kavert, as sorry as he looks, still doesn’t seem to get it. But that’s fine, you think. Not everyone can. And you’re not in the mood to argue anymore. “No… he wasn’t.”

He seems to read your mind because he simply accepts your answer. “I really am sorry for accusing you. And for the government arresting you alone and letting the white man go free.”

A tiny snort tickles your nostrils. Agent Kavert is white, and it’s even more amusing considering he’s being serious. “Thanks… I guess.”

He turns to leave, seemingly normal, until he spins on his heel and claps his hands. “Oh! And by the way — don’t leave the country. The charges of conspiracy and murder have all been dropped. But there’s evidence of drug smuggling. So, you’re on house arrest.”

Your eyes widen and you reply with a sarcastic yell. “Thanks!” He turns to leave again. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

He glances over his shoulder, “Could not have let you just get away with it. Some of that smuggling was under no order from Shield at all.”

“You know I can easily disable that ugly ass ankle bracelet you’re about to give me?”

He chuckles low, and finally waves goodbye. “Goodbye, Agent Y/LN.”

You stand dumbfounded, slightly annoyed, but you figure it’s better than actual jail time. Peter rises from his hiding spot and walks over to you, blowing air from his mouth. “Friend of yours?”

You whip around to point a finger, scream and laugh mixing into one. “No friend!”

Peter finally hears that accent Steve can’t stop talking about.

       It’s a tiny portrait, sealed in a tiny frame and hidden in a tiny room. The frame is black with professional wooden carvings that make the sides look like perfectly detailed tree trunks. It’s in between the portrait of Tony and Natasha’s bracelet. Tony wears the same AC/DC shirt Steve has somehow stolen and claimed as his own. He’s got this sarcastic grin, some type of wrench in one hand while his other rests on his hip. He stands in his lab, glasses pushed up onto his head and black soot smudged on his cheek. You think Peter snapped the photo back in 2017. 

But the middle portrait is your favorite. It’s the only photo he ever allowed to be taken of him. Brushing your index finger against the glass, you trace the small outlines of Loki’s jawline, to his thin pink lips, to the bulb of his nose, to the waves of his hair. He sits caught off guard, book in his hand and in regular human clothing. He shoots a rather annoyed but joyful look over his shoulder as the camera was shoved in his face. You know for sure Wanda took that photo.

“You’re not dead,” you say as you study the blue of his frozen eyes. A God doesn’t die, you remember him saying. Loki was wrong about a lot of things, but you pray he wasn’t wrong about this. There’s a small part of you that wants to speak the same words to Tony and Natasha, but there’s only so many times the world’s axis can shift for a miracle. You tap the glass, sighing a breath of acceptance, and finally let go. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Smiling up at the ceiling, you think you’re right about this one.

      It’s quiet. The only sounds are the mild ripping of wrapping paper and small ‘thank you’s’ from the team. Everyone got each other something — granted, everyone got something small for everyone. No matter how much Tony joked about still splurging on Christmas shopping, his promises weren’t exactly kept. He’s gotten everyone things they actually need or wanted. Steve, a new drawing pad; Natasha, a bright pink knit sweater; Rhodey, a new watch; Bruce, a pair of sunglasses; Nebula, a dark blue knitted sweater that she immediately presses against her cheek, eyes focused on the ground as she savors the soft brush; you, the full collection of Shakespeare's plays and sonnets. And he finally presents the baby’s crib to Pepper, constructed three weeks after she originally asked him to. 

“I know how much you like to reenact A Midsummer Night’s Dream in your room,” Tony grins at you. Biting your bottom lip, you throw yourself at him and hug him tight. He returns the hug with just as much strength, if not more. 

As the night goes on and midnight rings, your small group exchanges tight-lipped merry Christmas’s and happy holidays. Natasha retires to her room, a distant look in her eyes as she says goodnight. No one knows where Clint is.

Steve nudges your elbow with his once the room empties. He holds out a box with festive wrapping — snowmen with carrots for noses and a variety of pebbled smiles. “From me and Okoye.”

“You got me a gift?”

Steve’s brow furrows as he nods like it’s obvious. “Of course. You’re my friend.”

“Well, now I feel inadequate,” you laugh. It comes out wet and it’s then that you realize you’re tearing up. “I promise to reenact Midsummer for you, okay?”

Steve chuckles, “You got it.”

You unwrap it slowly, half wondering why Steve and Okoye teamed up to get you a present. You. Your stomach churns an innocent whirl. 

It’s a long sleeved vest… or sweater. You can’t really tell until you pull it from the box. It’s intricately designed and it takes a moment for you to finally see it, to finally understand, and the moment you do you exhale a wracked breath. 

It’s not Wakandan fashion. It’s threaded with the colors and swirls of a place you haven’t called home in years. It has red flowers down the vest portion and multicolored rows down the sleeves and back. It’s made from a thick fabric that’s rarely used this century. Vintage — home.

“Steve…”

Steve clears his throat, “Now, I only did the flower parts. Okoye found it unfinished in… um…”

And there, where tags from brands would usually be, is a small threaded engraving. 

‘From Bucky, To our muñeca.’

“He didn’t get to finish it so I thought I would — you know, help? — so it’s really from Buck. Probably an apology for not letting you visit him in Wakanda.”

Steve tries to push out a laugh at his poor joke, but you can see how he’s faltering. You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, dragging him down so his knees bend, and pour as much nonverbal thank you’s into the hug. He hesitates at first, arms floating awkwardly, until he swallows his fear and wraps his arms around your waist. He holds you to him tightly and breathes in the sweet scent of your vanilla shampoo. 

“Thank you.” Your voice is small, but Steve regards the delivery as powerful.

You wear it once, that Christmas night, enveloped in its warmth as you slept. In the morning, you hang it in the back of your closet. 

        A knock on your bedroom door sounds through your headphones. Bucky peeks his head in, “Is now a bad time?”

Sitting up, you pull the headphones from your ears. “Nope. Just thinking about how I’ve lived several years in the span of one week.”

Bucky lugs in a sports bag in one hand and a manila file in the other. He places them at the edge of your bed and proceeds to bounce in the available space near you. “Yeah, that can be annoying.”

You attempt to shove him away as he tries to steal your blanket. “Did you need anything?”

“Yeah.” He lets you take it, and simply turns on his side to face you. “What’s gonna happen between you and Steve?”

It’s an innocent question, but you know Bucky well enough to notice when he’s stressed. Steve probably told him to mind his business. “We’re good.”

He inspects your face with squinted eyes, “I know what you’re thinking so cut that shit out. This isn’t one of those missions where the feelings will just go away.”

“Funny thing is, I believe you,” you admit, watching as his face does something unexpected. His smile drops suddenly, like he didn’t expect you to agree with him, and then it’s immediately back full force. 

“Peggy and Steve - right person, wrong time. You and Loki - right person, wrong time. You and Steve, all those years ago — right person, wrong time.” A weird thing happens: you agree with him again. “But now, after everything — right person, right time.”

“It’s just weird feeling like it’ll actually work.”

“That makes us seem like we’re all broken, doll. We’re not.”

You turn so you’re facing him; two mismatched parentheses. “We’re just tired.”

“We’re just tired,” Bucky agrees, smiling. “I’m not saying don’t look over your shoulder whenever you feel like it. Hell, I still look over mine.”

Snorting, you roll closer to hug him. He pulls you into his chest. “You give amazing pep talks.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why they gave that trophy to Steve.” Bucky shares the intimate moment for as long as it takes before the blanket starts overheating. He groans as he sits up to retrieve the things he brought with him.  “By the way, our mutual friend sends one last warm regards.”

Bucky throws the sports bag onto your lap. “What’s this?”

“Your shit.”

You don’t even want to ask him how he packed your things without your knowledge. “Kicking me out, Barnes?”

“Clothes, toothbrush, shampoo and conditioner, pads, the quilt I just finished knitting thank you very much,” Bucky lists and hands you the file. “Maribel found him.”

“Ramirez?”

“Your dad.” 

You snap your head up to look at him. Bucky expects to see anger, hurt, maybe even betrayal. He was prepared for it. But you just look confused, lost for words, maybe even scared. “Goes by Richard these days. Lives with his wife in Wisconsin, no kids, keeps to himself.” 

You flip through the files, holding your breath. The file is small, Richard’s information only covering the first page, the rest just drabble. He seems relatively normal, looks normal even; normal job, normal credit score, normal upbringing. It doesn’t even seem real. You close the file and set it aside. “So you are sending me away?”

Bucky smirks, “It’s a suggestion. But I took the liberty of doing the hard part for you.”

“Yeah, because packing my lady products is the climax of this story.”

It didn’t go unnoticed that Bucky called Richard your ‘dad’. Everyone either referred to Ernesto as ‘your father’ or by his name. Steve had said ‘dad’ a few times before he met him, then he never said it again. Hell, even you did sometimes. 

It’s a sweet distinction and you’re certain Bucky said it on purpose. Bucky takes your hands in his, “It’s been a long time coming. But at least we can both say that the people who hurt us can’t hurt us any longer.” 

You can. You really can.

       Bucky’s already packed Steve’s shit as well. Steve’s just shoving extra socks into his bag when someone knocks on the door. He expects Bucky or Sam, final words of encouragement, but it’s Scott. And he’s standing there grinning like a mad man. 

“So, what’s the verdict, Rogers? You going after her or not?”

Steve huffs a laugh, “Think you already know the answer to that, Lang.”

Scott closes the door behind him and leans back against it. He shoves his hands in his sweater pockets, “Not that it should matter, shut me up if I cross any line, but everyone supports this.”

“Weirdly, I think it does matter. We’ve had you guys picking sides for two years. Selfishly. Like we were having a fucking civil war after everything.”

“Yeah, well.” 

Steve huffs a laugh. It’s always going to surprise him just how comfortable Scott is around him now. Not afraid to tease him or call him out on something he doesn’t agree with. It’s refreshing.

“I’m not giving up on her, Scott. Not again.”

Scott nods. Perhaps breaking the mission ethic code wasn’t a bad thing after all, Scott thinks. He gives Steve a proud smile, genuine. “Then I hereby declare our hanging conversation officially closed.”

        Steve wanders from his bedroom, to the conference room, to the main living room without an end destination in mind, seeming to just follow his quick feet as they lead him around the halls of the compound. He’s proud of himself, really, because he truly believes he’s learned to swallow his pride, has opened himself up to the possibility of being happy, and accepted that the world has changed and will continue to alter whether he likes it or not. He was, is, and will always be a man out of time — he’ll never fit but goddamn does he feel settled. He hasn’t felt this sane since before the war — which one? — so he relishes in the feeling for a few calm seconds. 

He feels tears well-up on his water line and feels the pressure in his temples. He’s at a crossroads — both proud of himself for finally choosing the path he wants and relieved that this week, this mission he has dreaded for almost ten years, is over. He doesn’t know if he should sleep for a month or occupy his time with other things awaiting repair. A build up of five years, grief and loss and happiness all weirdly mixed into one pot, and Steve simply hasn’t noticed the improper portions of each ingredient. 

It’s too much.

He thinks about his mental health. Shot to Hell, he jokes with himself. He’s already got the virtual therapy appointments scheduled. He figures he’ll get better with time and if Steve knows one thing for sure, it’s that he’s got a whole lot of that.

He thinks about Sam and Bucky and Scott — his three best friends that have gone to the ends of the Earth and back for him, and who would proudly do it all over again. He thinks about their kind words, their gentle touch, their devotion that Steve still sometimes feels he doesn’t deserve. 

And he thinks about you. To anyone else, this was written in the damn stars. No, there wasn’t anything extremely obvious in the first few years. You were friends. Friends that grew to consider each other teammates. Teammates that drew a drop of blood while fighting on opposite sides. Teammates that recognized the true endgame, teammates that helped each other escape, teammates that went silent for two years. Two years of no contact, no signal of survival. Then again, teammates who stood by as their world crumbled around them. Teammates who grew to be friends again, leaning on free shoulders and seeking help through happy conversations and long nights. Friends that brought the world together again, only to rip each other from their own. Friends into the most bizarre of enemies. And enemies back to teammates. 

Steve wipes a hand down his face as he fixes the strap over his shoulder. The common room is empty — he likes it this way. That means everyone is either napping, getting food, visiting friends or family, simply living life. The silence is therapeutic. 

His eyes fall on a crooked picture frame near the television. He tries to ignore it, almost to the door and ready for another road trip, but he steps back. Then forward, then back again. He groans in frustration of himself and moves to turn the frame back in place, holding it for a few seconds until it stays. But as he lets go, it tilts once more. He tries again — it tilts back. 

He pulls the frame from the hook and turns it over. He rightly freezes, the presence of a small pink paper airplane taped near the edge knocking the wind from his constricting lungs. He pulls it off, careful to not tear the delicate post-it. 

He never found it. Natasha probably placed it behind this very picture frame in the other compound for him to find. Surely the explosion should have destroyed it — but it didn’t. It’s right here, perfectly intact, just a smudge of dirt on one of its wings. The frame hadn’t been damaged either. It’s real. 

He holds the thin piece of paper like it’s the most precious thing in the world. 

Steve turns it over between his fingers a few more times, before he carefully folds it back in half and puts it in his wallet. “You’ve got some nerve, Nat. But I hear ya.”

       Steve decides to write you back. He hides the letter in that sweater he knows you don’t wear anymore, in the far back of your closet, and marvels at the intricate stitching while he can. He poured his heart out, even if it’s not guaranteed you’ll ever see it. 

     ‘Yes, I found your letter. I found it when I was looking for perfume in your suitcase. The tape was loose and I violated your privacy. I’m truly sorry for that. 

But I felt compelled to write you back, in case the reverse happened and I died instead of you. I didn’t write it then, when you were drying your hair in front of that impossibly small mirror you so weirdly called ‘a stupid little bitch’. And you looked so beautiful. But I’m writing it now and maybe I’ll share it with you in person when we’re both ready.      

When the world turned to dust, I held on to you. I know exactly why. Natasha bugged me about it also, teasing me whenever I would glance at you too long, or give you the last remaining Oreos I was planning on eating, or whenever I would leave your room in the mornings after a nightmare. She knew nothing was happening between us, but she had this smile whenever she caught me. Like she was happy I was comforting you, and in turn seeking comfort for myself. 

You remember how her smile would tilt up more on the left side? 

There isn’t a proper way to truly apologize for hurting you. But I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it. You at least deserve that. 

I returned a different man. And I think that was for the better.

Yes, I wanted the quiet life. I still think I do. And I think you know this — you have always seen right through me.      

I now know what Natasha saw. You irritate me, you damn near make me want to choke myself out, but I care for you. We hold each other up, and I’m always rooting for you, and I’m always by your side. No matter how annoying and smart-mouthed you may be.      

You’re my best friend — I hope I’m one of yours.

Steve.’

       There’s no one currently in the compound who really knows how to change the battery in your car. Bucky tries, does a rather good job too, but he claims he’s winging it and that you should call a mechanic just in case. He leaves you there with two random batteries on the ground, hood of your car open, and without any idea of what to do next. So you chill and wait for the mechanic you hope isn’t going to jack up the price just because he knows who you are. 

But he doesn’t seem fazed by you at all — or at the fact he just had to drive through countless checkpoints and security checks just to get on Avengers property. He changes the battery and changes the oil, hooking you up with as many upgrades he can. He even offers to wash it until you thank him repeatedly and that Really, really, you don’t have to do that. Thank you so much!

“Quite a garage you got here.”

There are unfinished projects and random wires falling from the ceiling and enough tools to supply five garages. It’s messy, but it was Tony’s. You accept the compliment and see him out. 

“Eh, make sure those windshield wipers work. I hear it’s gonna rain tomorrow.”

You thank him again. The clouds to the west are gray, getting darker as the expanse stretches, but from where you’re standing everything’s blue. You figure the mechanic was right: it’s gonna rain, and it’s gonna rain hard. 

The mechanic did good, all things considered. You never thought your old, beat-up Honda could look a few years younger. You flick one of the wipers lightly, testing its strength. It holds, as does the other, but when you go to lift it up it stops halfway. Without wanting to break it, you don’t force it. There’s something blocking the switch. 

You grab it before it can accidentally fall into a deep slot; the figurehead of a man, curly hair and beard that matches Steve’s, who also has a prominent and strong nose. You turn the coin over a few times before looking around the garage, down the street, at the remote area where the mechanic has just left. Standing there, mouth agape, you wonder just how in the world you missed the mechanic placing it there.

You were lacking in the spy department nowadays. Oops.

You know you’re not going to find Ramirez. But him giving this back to you? It was his way of saying he’s alright and that he owes you many thanks. 

You pocket the coin and accept the fact you just got bested.

It should take a few hours before you hit the first motel. Wisconsin isn’t that far, but you do have to pass through about hundred “middle of nowhere’s”. You pull out of the garage and check your mirrors — completely unaware of the super soldier running full speed to the passenger door. Steve carefully throws it open, somewhat aware of his strength, and lands into the seat beside you.

You hit the brakes hard. “Oh my! Rogers!”

Steve sucks in a few heavy breaths, like he literally ran across the compound to make it. “What? I startle you?”

“What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing? Aren’t you on house arrest?”

You squint at him, “Touche.” Putting the car in park, you turn your whole body to face him. “Answer my question.”

“Thought you were just gonna leave without saying goodbye?” Steve asks, expression much more teasing than serious.

“I’ll be gone for three days tops,” you say, waving your hand in the air. Steve smiles at you, seemingly waiting for you to speak again. You roll your eyes, “You’re coming with me, aren’t you?”

Steve lifts up the small duffel bag you hadn’t seen when he first got into the car. He throws it into the backseat and smiles lovingly at you. “I’ve been told that I’m impossible to get rid of, so yeah.”

“Rhodey said that the ankle bracelet they gave me wasn’t a trusted model. Easy to break off, like they did it on purpose.” You lean toward him, holding your chin up with the palm of your hand. “Should be able to drive free for a few weeks before they suspect anything.”

“Already booked us a cabin for Thanksgiving.”

“What makes you think that I even want you to accompany me on this road trip? Did you like the first one?”

Steve clears his throat and mimes like he’s writing on paper. The next words out of his mouth make your legs turn cold. “No matter how annoying and smart-mouthed you may be, there’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be than here, there, and everywhere with you.”

You blink multiple times, as if that would fix your ears. “...You. Fucking. Didn’t.” Steve reaches over to try and hug you. “No, don’t.” He squeezes harder, smooshing your face in his chest. “Steeeeve!”

“It fell out of your suitcase during the mission and I just… looked,” Steve reasons. He allows you to escape his grip.

“You just looked?”

Steve sighs. He really does look guilty. He pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, letting his fingers tickle your skin. “I’m sorry I read it. I’ll get out of this car for real if you want me to.”

You arch an eyebrow, “You’re a little shit, but I’m not mad. No one understands privacy these days.”

Steve smiles wide enough for his dimples to pop and his eyes to crinkle. “I’d follow you anywhere, doll.”

“Anywhere?”

“Just name it.”

Humming low, you lean forward. He follows your direction like you’re a lighthouse beaming with light, capturing your lips with his in a sweet kiss. He hooks a large hand behind your head to press you to him harder. You smell like that vanilla scented shampoo he loves so much and feels his heart constrict with a pleasant pulse. 

You pull back for air and smile against Steve’s soft lips. 

“Well, I’m headed for the middle of buttfuck Wisconsin—”

“Just drive!”

Bursts of laughter fill the car until you’re past the checkpoints and well onto the long roads. The clouds continue to turn darker but they’re inviting, alluring, and it’s not insane that both of you desire thunderstorms because they remind you of family. 

Steve watches you from the passenger seat, memorizing the contours and edges of your profile. The roots in his heart begin spreading again; the meat of his heart filling with a soothing promise that his time on earth is no longer rootless. He’s dug his feet in, he’s watered all he’s needed to water, and he feels it spreading within him like newly blossomed flowers in the spring. He has a sudden urge to take out his drawing pad to immortalize the way your mouth tilts higher up on the right side when you smile, to record it forever. 

But he’ll remember it. He’ll remember well into this timeline, several years down the road, and even when he’s resting in his grave. So he leans his head back against the seat and chooses to watch the curves of every expression you grace him with. He immortalizes the sound of your voice, the taps of your fingers against the steering wheel, and the accented way you say his name. 

There’s a long drive ahead, but he’s excited for it. He’s excited for you. Steve promises himself that he’ll ask you a million questions, and give you a million answers, and share a million more stories. 

Right now, he just needs to sleep.

~

THE END.

Taglist: @dumb-ass-3 @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise​ @missnighttigress​

[sassyfrassboss]

Observations and Comments

1. Did they shop at the same store before the show? Exact same shirts. Also, did I miss the Invictus Logo? Or was it just not there?

2. Harry moved there a year ago and this is the first time James got together with him?

3. Harry saying “We Royals carry cash.” I thought that was ONLY The Queen. 

4. The fact that Harry lived in London for 35 years and never toured it is asinine. 

5. High Tea REALLY made me crave scones and clotted cream and jam...like bad...

6. High Tea on the 405 with Harry - he seems really excited about that...lol “Get it on Netflix.”

7. I did laugh at the trolley falling over and James yelling at him to clean it up. 

8. The lady who owned the Fresh Prince house was SO excited and Harry telling James to come get him in 5 minutes if he wasn’t out was SO rude. 

9. Of COURSE Meghan was going to have a cameo. She just can’t resist being on camera. This was planned because her hair and makeup were done. Archie’s birthday video she looked like she had just rolled out of bed but a 30 second cameo on James Corden show she is done up. Shocking...plus she kept tilting her head so the her hair was covering her face. That camera was CLOSE as well. 

10. Meghan calls Harry “Haz.” So all the “Hazbeen Harry’s” are hilarious now. 

11. Harry calls Meghan “M” now.

12. Harry knowing Meghan was the “one” on the second date. The fact that he claims dating in the Royal family, that dates are at home dinners in the beginning because of the press, is ridiculous. Kate and William are still known to out on dates. We hear how the go to a local pup and she has a glass of wine and he has a beer. So I don’t buy that. They could have dated but she would have called the Paps...which I think he knows. She literally sought attention on her Instagram to try and hint she was dating him. Plus, wasn’t there something about how they would hang out at friend’s houses because they couldn’t go out in public? Lies again...

13. He plugs Netflix...James led him into that. Netflix is “loosely based on the truth...” Sure Charles LOVED that...Him saying what can come from putting duty above family is portrayed well in Netflix just tells me he sides with Netflix on this. 

14. He really has thought about who he would want to play him in Netflix. He had his answer ready to go! This guy is way too good looking to play Harry. Also, I thought he didn’t want The Crown to go that far? Changing his tune is he?

15. Again...really wanting clotted cream and scones...

16. Interesting how Harry only speaks to his grandmother and grandfather. But he does say “We Zoomed them a few times” which makes me think they don’t zoom as often as they make out in the press. 

17. Love how he mentioned Meghan makes organic waffles...lol how exactly does she do that? All ingredients are organic? Wow...welcome to the majority of the population who only buy organic. We don’t even think about it anymore at the grocery store. We just grab the organic brand. But he has to make a point a pint to mention “Meg” makes organic waffles.

18. Most 18 month old sing and put words together. Archie’s first word being “crocodile” is questionable. Guess Mama and Dada weren’t around enough for those to be his first words like most normal children. 

19. His life always being about public service and Meghan signed up for that life. Yeah so much so that you both quit in less than 2 years of marriage. 

20. The whole “British Press was destroying my mental health” is where my jaw dropped. He can thank his wife and her PR for that! Who does this guy think he is? 

The press writes articles on him justifiably criticizing his and his wife’s hypocrisy and THEY are damaging his mental health. His wife was shoveling out PR articles left and right weekly but the PRESS is to blame. 

Catherine had photos taken of her while she was TOPLESS on a private balcony. On the day they were released she was on Tour and she put a smile on her face and got on with her work. 

Did anything like that happen to Harry & Meghan? Nope...Did the press follow Meghan to the point she couldn’t walk down the street? Nope...

How dare they!? Kate was pursued relentlessly and she kept calm and carried on FOR YEAR! While these two whiners couldn’t have justifiable criticism of their own making for 22 months. 

21. I love it how he gestures with his arm in regards to his family about “Whatever they decide” to his future role as a royal. Like...those people over there...it was slightly condescending in my mind because he was like waving them off like they weren’t important.

22. Get your family out of the UK to come here to the US and give interviews and bus rides and Zoom calls. 

23. I thought this call was supposed to promote Invictus? They did the military exercise but nothing was said or promoted for Invictus. 

24. Harry definitely earned his paycheck for plugging Netflix on this though. Nothing about what he plans to do for his charities other than “continue to serve” but mentions Netflix and how it is loosely based on the truth...Charles must have cut him off...

25. Goodling recipes for scones and ordering clotted cream...

[hskrealm]

innocence (m.)

pairing: drag racer yoongi x reader                     

genre: fluff, smutsmutsmut. (this post took a turn i swear)

word count: 3.2k

warnings: overstimulation, PET NAMES SO MANY PET NAMES WHAT WAS I THINKING, fingering, oral (f receiving), cute shit, virgin!reader, yoongi is a bit persuasive, etc.

summary: your best friend wants to take your innocence in every possible way.  

a/n: i wrote this MONTHS ago, and i literally forgot about it up until yesterday, or sometime before that? i was sad because I deleted it, but my bby @bitchyaus reblogged it after i posted it, and i have NEEEEVEEER been happier.

You hummed as you sat on your couch while scrolling through your social media feed and taking small bites of your favorite snack every now and then.

It was only 7:09. You’d usually find something to occupy yourself every day until 8:00 on the dot (although he’d come early sometimes, but that wasn’t often), which was when Yoongi would come knocking on your door with a new story to tell and to raid your fridge of whatever he could find.

If necessary, you’d tend to the few bruises his beautiful face would sport.

Once he was comfortable enough to tell you what his occupation was, you cringed the moment you imagined him sitting behind the wheel of a vehicle, pushing 200 to nearly 300 miles on a daily basis.

You begged him to consider something safer, to which he responded with a small smirk,

“I’ve been doing this years before I even met you. If I’ve managed to keep myself in good condition for this long, then I’m sure that you have nothing to worry about.”

This had become a repetitive cycle in the short year that you had known him. He’d shoot you a text before he went out for the day, and come speeding back to your place once he was let off of work.

Or–when he let himself off, rather. He never really was the type to follow rules anyway.

You smiled fondly at the thought of seeing his gummy smile sometime in the next hour.

You checked your phone again.

7:14.

Well, 46 minutes to be exact.

You sighed and tossed your head back against the couch cushions as you tried to register what about this man had you so whipped for him.

Could be the fact that he was a sweetheart when it came to you,

Or it could also be the fact that he looked so fucking hot driving those cars despite how much you hated seeing him behind the wheel.

Or, it could be that he had really, really pretty hands–

There was a loud knock at your door. It carried the same loudness that Yoongi’s carried.

Okay, you have really got to find yourself a hobby.

The person knocked twice, and then there was a three second pause before the last and final knock came.

You grinned as you rushed over toward the door.

There was his signature knock that he had given himself sometime a few weeks ago.

He suggested that he should have a special knock so you knew it was him, although you told him multiple times that no one other than him or your best friend came to visit.

He still wouldn’t let up even then, muttering something about how it would be the safest measure. You then (jokingly) proceeded to tell him he knew nothing about safety, which led him to tell you about all of the safety precautions people in his profession must take before even considering driving one of those high speed  cars.

He couldn’t take a joke, but that was alright. You loved him anyway.

You took a quick glance through the peephole just to make sure it was him before you unlocked the door.

As usual, he rushed in and threw his bag to the ground before making a beeline to your kitchen.

“Nice to see you too.” You smiled a bit, closing the door back and locking it behind yourself.

“I shouldn’t have to greet you anymore when I enter.” He spoke, although his voice was a bit muffled since he was bent over as he shuffled through your fridge.

“It’d be nice, though.” You sighed dramatically as you walked back over to your couch and flopped onto it.

“Sure.” He shrugged, returning from the kitchen to take his spot next to you on the couch as he always did.

“Hello, Princess.” He smirked, laughing at the way you rolled your eyes and looked away from him.

He’d called you that for forever now, and you’d be a terrible fucking liar if you were to say that it didn’t make your pussy clench.

He knew that it did, too, which was why he said it.

“Did you do something productive today?” He asked, as he took a bite out of one of the strawberries out of the bowl that he quickly prepared for himself.

“I did some school work earlier.” You shrugged, gesturing toward your closed laptop that sat on the arm of the couch closest to you.

He hummed, nodding approvingly.

“Good girl,” He noticed the way that your body shivered at his praise. He always talked like this, but for some reason it was really having an impact on you right now. 

“Have you eaten something filling today?” You bit your lip. 

You hadn’t had a ‘meal’, but you had some pretty filling snacks. You just weren’t in the mood to cook anything, or even order something.

There was no point in lying to him either, because he could see right through you.

“Depends on what the word filling means.” You responded, as if this wasn’t a question that he asked you everyday. 

Yoongi narrowed his eyes at you and set the bowl of strawberries down on your coffee table before quickly reaching over your thighs to grab the bag of chips that you had been snacking on before his arrival.

His hand brushed over the exposed skin of your legs, causing you to gulp. He was always a forward person, but never this forward.

“This isn’t a meal, ____ . “ He scolded, and you rolled your eyes.

“I know, but I can promise you that I am satiated.” Yoongi shook his head in disbelief.

“You hungry?” He asked, cocking his head to the side as he stared into your eyes with his arms crossed.

“Nope.” As if on cue, your stomach growled.

“Mhm.” He mocked, handing you the bowl of strawberries before standing up.

“What are you doing?” You asked, confused as to why he was suddenly up on his feet.

“I’m about to cook you something, little girl.” He rolled his eyes as he walked into the kitchen.

“Yoongiiii-“

“In the mood for pasta? You’ve got all of the ingredients I’d need to make you some alfredo.” You groaned.

“My stomach growls all the time! I’m not hungry, I swear.” He was already pulling out pots and pans from your cupboards as your voice went through one ear and out of the other.

“Suck on those strawberries with those pretty lips of yours while I cook this, hm?” He said, leaning against the kitchen counter with his elbows resting against it.

“I don’t want the straw–”

“I already put the noodles in the pot, so you’re shit out of luck.”

———

Yoongi had been in the kitchen for half an hour while you caught up on your favorite Netflix series.

You should’ve just lied and said yes. He was going through way too much trouble for you.

“Alright,”  He began, as he finally left the kitchen.

“Should be good to eat in a few minutes.” He slid back onto the couch.

“Mind if I use your laptop to check my stats? I’m sure they’ve gone up.” He bragged. You playfully rolled your eyes and handed him your laptop, before directing your attention back to your TV.

Yoongi began typing away for a few minutes, until his fingers paused, his eyes grew wide, and he choked on air.

“What? Those stats not what you expected them to be?” You laughed, Yoongi turning his head to look at you before clicking on a tab at the top of the screen and pushing the laptop in your direction.

“What– Oh my God, give me that!” You yelled, Yoongi easily fighting off your efforts to grab the laptop away from him by shoving his arm against your chest.

“Are these your nudes?” He asked, although it was painfully clear that they were.

Yoongi smirked at the way you began to blush profusely.

Holy shit, you were going to die of embarrassment. 

‘Play it cool.’ You thought to yourself.

“Yeah? So what if they are?” You used this opportunity to snatch the laptop away from him and close the tab, before shutting the laptop off and setting it on the coffee table where the empty strawberry bowl was.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, taken aback by your response.

“Clearly you don’t seem to mind.” You smirked, gesturing to the bulge forming in his pants.

He dropped the smirk on his face as he inched closer to you. You reflexively backed away from him.

“You talk pretty big for a virgin, sweetheart.” He growled. Your stomach fell to the bottom of your ass at his words.

You weren’t sure of what to say.

“Uh, I never told—“

“You’d be surprised of what you tell me when you’re drunk.” He reached forward to twirl a strand of your hair around his pointer finger before tucking it behind your ear, as if he had done this to you before.

“Since we’re letting secrets go, you should know that I’ve thought about fucking you plenty of times.” He hummed, as he traced your jawline with his fingers.

“You haven’t got any idea of what thinking about stripping you of your innocence does to me, sweetheart.”

Your chest began to rise and fall rapidly.

“I know that you’d let me, too.” He slowly pushed you backward until your back hit the couch.

“You would let me, wouldn’t you?” He looked into your eyes, waiting for your approval before he took anything further.

You thought about it.

Did you really want to lose your virginity to this sexy drag racer that you’ve grown to become best friends with over the past year?

Hell yes.

“Yes, yes I’d let you.” You stuttered, causing him to groan at your admittance. 

He was going to corrupt you more and more day by day before you even realized it.

And fuck, he couldn’t wait.

“Hmm.” He hummed against your skin, as he nudged your head to the side so he could expose the skin of your neck.

He quickly began to suck love bites against the skin, eager to cut straight to the chase in order to get a taste of that perfect cunt that was spread wide in that picture.

“How far have you gone, baby?” He asked, as he tugged your shirt up over your chest and kissed his way around your breasts.

“I–I’ve, fuck,” You moaned, as he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth.

“I’m sorry, you’ve done what?” He mumbled against your hardening bud. You whimpered.

“I-I’ve masturbated with a toy.” Yoongi detached his mouth from your nipple.

“That’s all?” You nodded shyly.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me.” He hungrily kissed down the rest of your body, stopping right above the band of your shorts.

“I’ve got to taste you to get you prepared to take me. Is that alright?” He wasn’t lying. It would help you adjust to his size a bit easier, but it was mostly for his own personal pleasure.

You nodded, and he wasted no time in tugging down your shorts and panties in one swift motion. 

“Oh my God.” He nearly whimpered at the sight of your untouched pussy. You began to close your legs as he stared down at your most intimate areas, which prompted him to roughly throw one of your legs over the back of the couch so you were forced to keep yourself spread for him.

“Don’t ever do that again.” He warned. You nodded, murmuring an apology as he laid himself flat against the couch and pulled your hips closer to his face.

He breathed shakily against your core. You began to writhe in his hold as his cool breath hit your exposed pussy lips.

“Are you sure about this, baby? We could stop this at any moment.” He asked for the final time. It made you smile that he continued to ask you if this was really what you wanted.

“I’m sure. Please–oh, shit!” You yelped. Yoongi hadn’t even let you finish your sentence before he had his lips wrapped around your clit.

Your hands hesitantly tangled in his hair, as you were uncertain if he was okay with you touching him or not.

He sensed your hesitation and moaned in approval as you testingly tugged at his blonde locks.

His moan vibrated against your core, causing you to buck your hips up toward his face.

He grunted at this, using one of his arms to pin you down to the couch by your stomach, while his other arm pushed your flailing leg away from his face so he had more access to his meal.

“So good, baby. So fucking good,” He growled into you, his cock growing harder underneath him as more of your juices began to gush onto his face.

You didn’t know how it was possible, but he managed to pull you even closer to him as he licked a long stripe from your dripping hole back up to your clit, before he dipped his tongue inside of your clenching cunt and (quite literally) fucked you with his tongue.

You were a mess above him, your hair matted and stuck to your sweaty forehead as you relished in the feeling of his tongue collecting every drop of your arousal.

“‘M gonna cum, so fucking close, please please–” You begged him with your eyes closed. He took a glance up at you, wanting to watch you come undone on his tongue.

“SHIT!” You screamed, the euphoric bliss of your first orgasm knocking the wind out of you.

Yoongi hummed and pulled his tongue out of you, slipping two of his fingers into his mouth before lining them up with your cunt.

“You with me, babygirl?” He asked. You opened your eyes so you could see him, but you immediately closed them again ad he slid his digits into your wet hole.

“Ughh, oh my fucking God!” You let out a broken moan, tears welling in your eyes from the overstimulation.

“Hey, you’re okay, hm? I need to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible if you’re still willing to take my cock.” His words were caring, although there was a bit of cockiness behind them, almost as if he knew that you still would be in at least some pain from the stretch.

The thought alone excited him.

“Just a little bit more, okay? Hold out for me.” You were about to protest, when he pressed his hand against your lower stomach and began to piston his fingers in and out of you like a machine. 

He curled them perfectly against that little spot inside of you that had your eyes rolling toward the back of your head, and your toes curling in pleasure.

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as you came for the second time within a five minute span.

Yoongi left you to yourself for a moment as he hastily tugged his jeans down, not wanting to waste time to pull them off completely. 

He was so eager to have your little cunt pulsing around him.

He fished around in his back pocket for a condom. He was thanking himself mentally for forgetting to take it out the last time he wore those jeans a few weeks ago.

“Could you be a doll and roll this on for me, baby?” He tore the wrapper open with his teeth and quickly tossed it aside as he handed you the slippery thing.

You took it with shaky hands, still not completely over your last two orgasms as you gently grabbed his cock and spread the condom over it.

“Oh, fuck.” He growled, the feeling of your little hand spreading over his throbbing dick enough to make him cum right there.

He desperately needed to be inside of you.

He grabbed his cock and began to rub circles around your clit, the small action making you gasp for air because of how sensitive you already were.

“Think you can still handle me?” You looked up at him. He wasn’t smirking, but you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Mhm, j-just please, be gentle.” You whimpered, and Yoongi nodded as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

For now.

He pushed just the tip into you, instantly catching your lips with his to prevent any sound of discomfort from leaving your mouth.

“Ready for some more?” He asked sweetly, as he pressed his forehead against yours. You winced, but nodded anyway.

He pushed the rest of his cock into you inch by inch, attempting to nullify the pain a bit by leaving kisses along the side of your neck and jaw.

“You’re taking me so well, ____.” He sat still for a moment, letting you adjust before he rocked his hips slightly.

He looked at you for approval, and when you nodded once he began to set a slow, steady rhythm with the pace of his thrusts.

“‘M not gonna last long, baby. You’re squeezing me so tight, I can barely fit my cock through.” You weren’t sure what it was about the way that he was talking to you, but it just made you clench around him even harder as he began to pick up speed.

“I need you to cum with me, Princess. Can you do that for me?” You nodded eagerly, already on the brink of insanity.

He licked his thumb and brought it down to your clit. You squeaked, and he grunted above you as he tried to ease himself inside of you without hurting you.

“Now, cum now.” He ordered, his arms shaking as he held himself up above you to prevent from collapsing on top of your chest.

You came with your mouth held open in a silent moan, your legs spasming around Yoongi’s waist as he slowly pulled out of you.

The corruption was only beginning.

“Hungry? I’m sure the food is plenty cool now.” You laughed breathlessly at his lame joke, as you covered your face with your hands while trying to catch your breath.

“I’ll go grab some for you, but I’ve got a question for you first.” He paused. “No, wait, two actually.” You glanced at him.

“Go for it.” You said, voice hoarse.

“Would you let me take you out sometime? I mean, on a real date?” You scoffed.

“I thought you were going to ask me to be your girlfriend or something.” You laughed. He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I was.” You froze.

“I backed out, though.”

“I mean, I would’ve said yes.” He snapped his head toward you.

“You would have?” You nodded, a small smile on your face.

“In that case, will you be my girlfriend, then?” You giggled at his shy demeanor, a complete 180 from how he handled you just a few minutes ago.

“Yes, I will.” He leaned down to peck your cheek.

“My last question...”

“Yeeeees?” You encouraged him to continue.

“Why are your nudes on your laptop anyway?”

“I hate you.”

tag list! let me know if you want to be on it. (you could send me a message, an ask, or just comment under this fic)

@bitchyaus @dontaskshhhhh @taesluttt @1-in-abillion @designjet @peachy-bhun @patpus @koracynthia120 @safi4x @lcnycto @someonewhowannadielol @dreamingsmile @rinastylesworld @fan-ati--c @sincemalik @bts-bay-bee @cestlaviecia @jeonjungkookiiee @bunny-kix03

[chalkrevelations]

Back, finally, with Word of Honor, Episode 11, which involved a lot of waving my hands around over precious button Zhang Chengling and his concern about whatever ridiculous argument between his Murder Dads left his shifu in a snit and must be solved right this minute. I really think if he could’ve just pushed their heads together like two Ken dolls to make them kiss and make up, he would have. Didi, I could eat you up with a spoon, although not in the creepy way that Du Pusa threatens. I promise.

First, though, due diligence: Spoilers, possibly likely for the entire show, not just this ep, so scroll away and come back later if you are still, at this point in the game, trying to watch the whole 36.5 eps unspoiled. Also, this is hella long. Strap in. Hashtag long post (remorseful).

First thing I actually want to do is point out a couple of scenes that I found particularly striking for various reasons. The first one is not quite the opening scene - which is super-brief and involves Yueyang’s prep for the Heroes Conference, Gao Shan (AKA Chengling’s bully-in-chief) being smug about Yueyang’s upcoming ascendance (oh boy, are you in for a surprise, you little schmuck), and Gao Chong’s extreme weariness at the idea of Yueyang’s upcoming ascendance. Gao Chong is very tired, y’all. It’s been a long 20 years. There’s also a ginormous sword on display, like Yueyang is now having a dick-measuring contest with who they think is the disciple of the Changming Sword Immortal (and oh boy, are you guys in for another surprise. I’m not sure what part of “immortal” y’all don’t understand). But I digress - as I said, this is a very brief scene, and then we cut back to Luo Mansion, where we left Ghost Valley and Lunatic Wen at the end of the last ep. Everyone is gone except for Wen Kexing, who’s still plotting, Beauty Ghost, who’s trying to stay tf out of this current shitshow as much as possible (good luck with that), and Tragicomic Ghost, who is totally and completely Done With This Shit. She berates WKX for acting crazy, he gets snappy back – I feel like their relationship is maybe a little bit fraught at this point – and Beauty Ghost attempts to soothe the waters, leading to an eyeroll from Tragicomic Ghost with a directive to stand the hell up and stop being scared of this idiot child throwing his weight around. WKX dismisses Tragicomic Ghost so he can plan a Very Secret Mission for Beauty Ghost in secret. WKX is … he is super-tired at this point. Painfully, achingly tired. I would almost say weary. We can see it in Gong Jun’s face. It’s a nice subtle bit of acting, and it definitely says something about WKX’s relationship with these women that he’s willing and able to show it in front of them, even as he’s still throwing his weight around.

Anyway, Liu Qianqiao proves her smarts by showing her hand just enough for WKX and us to see that she’s seen through the Lunatic Wen act to the utility of chokin’ out a dude as a warning, to try keeping Changing Ghost in line (good luck with that), but she also assures all of us that she only wants to serve the Ghost Valley Master and has no agenda of her own. WKX assures her that he has everything under control (Uh … huh. OK, my dude) and tells her he has a task for her, before detouring into a quiz about her disguise technique (learned from Qin Huaizhang, Zhou Zishu’s shifu at Siji Manor, and this is probably a tipoff that the Very Secret Mission will involve disguising herself), about Siji Manor, and about why she never visited there. We get some interesting vague hints about her past, including the fact that she met Qin Huaizhang when she was “little” and he took pity on her “disfigurement,” according to both the Youku and Netflix English subs. @coralcoloratura pulled out 童年时 (tóngnián shí) from the Chinese subs for me, which does mean “childhood.” Given that the going story is Yu Qiufeng’s wife threw acid in LQQ’s face over their affair, this opens up some questions about how old LQQ actually was when all that happened. Viki subs, per @janedrewfinally, add that she says she treated Qin Huaizhang to a meal, so she couldn’t have been too young. But Qin Huaizhang dies when ZZS is just 16, and LQQ can’t be any older than ZZS, and is likely younger (good lord, I just checked actor ages, and Ke Naiyu is 7 years younger than ZZH, so that’s probably not a good age gap to port over to the show, because just. No.). All this leads me to place LQQ at somewhere between Zhang Chengling’s age and Gu Xiang’s age (at most) when this whole tragic backstory happened, which is still pretty freakin’ young, and I can see why she would consider herself a child, at least metaphorically, in terms of naïvete, if not literally. I don’t know how much exploration has been done about this, on the fannish side of things, but it seems like an area rich for exploration. Also, I CANNOT TELL YOU how much I now want to read the AU of WKX and LQQ both actually being brought to Siji Manor at various times by Qin Huaizhang and staying there. I suspect that with those two shidi backing him, ZZS might never have had to go to Prince Jin in the first place. (Clearly this makes some things problematic, including A-Xiang, but I keep thinking about ZZS, WKX and LQQ growing up together … And anyway, I’m ALSO willing to read the AU(s) where WKX’s storyline stays the same, but LQQ does come to Siji Manor – both the AU where she and ZZS together manage to save the sect, and the AU where she goes with them to Jin, and the kind of weapon she could be for ZZS there, as he runs Tian Chuang. Who’s writing all this? Anyone? Anyone?) Anyway, when WKX asks why she didn’t visit Siji Manor, LQQ tells WKX that she’s a ghost now and doesn’t want to think about the living world anymore, which is probably a way of saying she wishes she had gone there and doesn’t want to talk about her many and varied bad decisions back in the day; it also acts as an unknowing reinforcement of that bright line WKX is desperately trying to maintain for himself between the world of ghosts and the world of humans. Plus it gives him the chance to speak the very portentous line that “Yes, we’re ghosts, and ghosts disappear in the light,” pulling the theme of light back in, again and giving us all kinds of foreshadowing. Cut away as he leans in to whisper her mission to her.

The other really striking scene, for me, happens near the end of the ep, when Gao Chong visits the shrine room, with the memorial tablets of his various brothers and friends. This hit me not just because of Hei Zi’s acting (which is great, don’t get me wrong) but also because this is a scene that reflects both backward and forward in the show - back to ZZS in Ep 1 and forward to the two scenes that Zhao Jing will have in this same room – as well as giving us all sorts of subtle clues about relationships throughout the show. So first of all, we see, in a shot that will mean more the deeper we get into the show, tablets for Zhen Ruyu and Gu Miaomiao (or, “his wife,” as the Youku subs call her, and this is me, rolling my eyes), who were apparently close enough to Gao Chong that he keeps memorial tablets for them on his home altar - which helps explain why WKX is so incensed that none of these Five Lakes Alliance assholes helped his parents when they were turned out of the Healer’s Valley, although that’s not something we would have known yet on a first watch through the show. Gao Chong lights some incense and apologizes to the tablet of Zhang Yusen for letting Zhang Chengling get kidnapped. He talks about waiting 20 years to learn the truth – which is kind of cryptic, but probably means the truth about who poisoned his sword before the spar with Rong Xuan, which we hear about in a later scene this ep – and gets a little bit salty about the fact that it doesn’t matter if everyone else doesn’t believe him, but why didn’t Zhang Yusen believe him? Again, I’m assuming this is about Gao Chong’s protestations that he’s not the one who put poison on his sword. We also learn in this same ep – from Chengling – that Zhang Yusen’s break with the Five Lakes Alliance seems to have at least started that far back, and that Yusen would have been at Mount Qingya to stand with Rong Xuan against his other Alliance brothers, if Yusen’s shifu hadn’t broken his legs so that he couldn’t travel there. (Yusen clearly had some strong feelings about this, if that’s what it took to get him to sit still for it. Also, it makes me wonder how Ye Baiyi’s feelings about Chengling might change if he ever learned that Chengling’s father intended to defend and stand with a guy who Ye Baiyi considered his own child, as well as his disciple.)

Gao Chong then proceeds to have a little crisis of faith – he’s very tired, y’all, it’s been a long 20 years – and talks about how no one understands him, and he’s old, and everyone’s dead. He also yells at Rong Xuan’s tablet, calling Rong Xuan da-ge but also saying he’s sorry he ever met him, but then there’s this brief little moment after, when he seems a little bit shocked at himself for saying it out loud, which reminds me, honestly, of the moment in CQL (we’ve all seen The Untamed, right, I don’t have to put spoiler warnings for it, right?) when Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are in the Yunmeng Jiang memorial hall and Wei Wuxian talks about Yu Ziyuan’s punishments back in the day, then pats his own mouth and says “My fault, my fault, my fault” before bowing to her tablet. Like, yes, their relationship was multiple levels of fucked-up, and his reaction is not out of place given some of his continuing neuroses, but also, this is just not a thing you do, speaking ill of the dead to their faces. I’m sure Gao Chong does regret ever meeting Rong Xuan, and the way that led to the building of the Armory and the Five Lakes Alliance to guard it, and the position that ultimately put Gao Chong in - not to mention that if he never met Rong Xuan he never would have accidentally killed him. But you can’t say things like that OUT LOUD to the MEMORIAL TABLET. Then contrast this to Zhao Jing, who literally takes a piss on the tablet in one of the later episodes. Because he’s the worst. And THEN, Gao Chong kneels and talks to the tablets of Zhang Yusen and Lu Taichong, his dead Five Lakes Alliance brothers, saying they must have met again in the netherworld, and that they’re probably swearing about him right now, and this is the point when I sit straight up and exclaim, out loud, “Fuck. Me. This is Zhou Zishu’s breakdown at the mirror in Episode 1.” When he talks to Jiuxiao about how Jiuxiao and Jing’An must have met again in the afterlife by now and are probably discussing what an awful shixiong ZZS is, right? And then Gao Chong even laughs bitterly like ZZS, and cries like ZZS, and I just. OK. FINE, show. I’ll try to go a little easier on Gao Chong, because you’re clearly linking him to ZZS, here, and I’m willing to forgive ZZS for anything. I suppose I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t try to extend just a little bit of the same grace to Gao Chong.

So, that’s a lot of verbiage, and I haven’t even gotten to Wenzhou yet, but trust me, I have some things to say about them. While WKX has been terrorizing the troops, ZZS left Han Ying’s place and immediately started drinking again, because that continues to be the best way – in combo with his Nails – he knows to kill himself by increments, but so sad, he’s run out of wine as he wanders the marketplace, alone and zhiji-less. Inside Yueyang, Chengling finds a note purporting to be from “Xu,” instructing him to meet at the North Gate that night, and like the little idiot they keep calling him (he really is too pure for this world), he takes it at face value. On his way that night, he runs into Gao Shan, who inadvertently almost saves him by interrupting his sneaking around to try to bully him back to his room. Something something food as bonding, because the lie Zhang Chengling comes up with is that he’s hungry (he’s not eating Yueyang’s food, and it’s not nourishing him), and he’s on his way to find something to eat (because he and his Murder Dads are in a mutually nourishing relationship, and that’s who he wants to be with). Also, no, he would prefer going to find something to eat for himself and not eating whatever Gao Shan will bring back to Chengling’s room. (A little bit, I’m sad there’s never any place to fit in some canon-complicit long-form enemies to failboats to lovers fic for these two. I have to admit, I would read it. Someone should do something with the tension between them, although I don’t really want it to be anything that will make Best Boy permanently sad.) Anyway, A-Xiang shows up just as Gao Shan is about to frog-march Chengling back to his room, and Gao Shan never sees her coming before he’s knocked out on the ground. A-Xiang is confused about the note but nevertheless helps Chengling get to where he’s supposed to meet “Xu,” whereupon she gets beat up and gets her didi took by the Scorpions. (There’s an interesting moment here where Pretty Arhat is fighting with A-Xiang and asks what her relationship is to Beauty Ghost, which whaaaaaat? THERE’S some backstory I need more on. I’m assuming this is based on A-Xiang’s hand-to-hand fighting style, which I think is the only thing Pretty Arhat has seen at this point, and exactly WHEN has she gotten so familiar with Beauty Ghost’s fighting style? Also, I like the apparent nod to Beauty Ghost’s influence in raising A-Xiang (and we’ll see more of this).) Meanwhile, ZZS has been inexorably drawn to the place he left his child disciple child and is moping right outside of Yueyang, so he sees Pretty Arhat fly away with Chengling. Murder Dad 1 springs into action.

Yueyang disciples run around like ants whose hill has been kicked over, looking for Chengling in town, and two of them encounter Wen Kexing, out for a midnight stroll in a fetching pastel blue and green combo. They ask him about seeing a guy. With a pipa. Or maybe without a pipa. So maybe just a guy. Wen Kexing correctly deduces they’re asking about Phantom Musician Qin Song, who covered Pretty Arhat’s getaway by incapacitating everyone with his magic music. YY disciples are excited and tell WKX yes, this dude was involved in kidnapping Zhang Chengling! Y’all. WKX’s face when he hears that. He is not happy. Almost immediately, he spots Qin Song on a rooftop. Murder Dad 2 springs into action.

So, WKX the Ghost Valley Master finds Qin Song, asks him where Chengling is, crushes his playing hand, threatens to break every single bone in his body one at a time (meanwhile dropping the tidbit that he learned the number of bones in the human body from his dad), and tells him a little story about a time when – apparently – he asked another guy the same question (about WHO? has A-Xiang been kidnapped in the past, because that’s about the only other person I can imagine him being like this about?) and only had to break 80 bones before he got an answer. Meanwhile, ZZS actually finds Chengling, in the Scorpion lair where Du Pusa and Pretty Arhat have variously been molesting him (srsly, I feel like I should probably say something to a trusted adult Murder Dad), torturing him with unpleasant magic pixie dust, smacking him around (he loses a tooth, y’all), and waterboarding him. During all this, Pretty Arhat says she’s yet to meet a man who can stand up to waterboarding, and I’m kind of reminded of WKX’s scene threatening Qin Song, and I don’t know if that’s on purpose or not. Chengling literally spits in her face and proclaims that he’s the son of Zhang Yusen, none of whose sons are cowards, and about then, ZZS busts down the door like he’s WKX (by throwing Monster Jiang through it), tells the Scorpions he’s their daddy, and gets into a big fucking fight with all three of them. He flags a little bit somewhere in here as he starts having some Nail pangs (which, yeah, it must be getting about midnight, which is when that’s supposed to happen) and spits some blood, but he reassures Chengling and then tells the Scorpions no one can stop him from killing who he wants and getting what he wants (OK, Wei Wuxian …). Then he shoots some projectiles from some little contraption up his sleeve that we get a quick look at that I did not remember AT ALL from my first watch of the show but is literally like the gun hanging over the mantel in the first act. Huh. Anyway, he kills Monster Jiang, and Du Pusa (who didn’t give a shit about Monster Jiang OR Qin Song earlier), wants to capture him alive, supposedly so she can get revenge for them by teaching him how it feels “to want to die more than live.” Joke’s on you, lady – too late! That’s literally his constant state of being!

About this time, Qin Song comes flying through the doors – or what’s left of them – gasping his last breath as WKX makes his dramatic entrance. Chengling not only calls him “Wen-shu” but also has already figured out exactly how to manipulate Murder Dad 2 and tells him that in addition to kidnapping him, they also hurt ZZS. WKX is predictably murderous, and Du Pusa and Pretty Arhat run away and hide behind the skirts of Xie Wang’s robes as the Zombie Drug Man Army approaches. WKX tells ZZS to take Chengling and leave, ZZS refuses, and Xie Wang LITERALLY SAYS “IN LIFE AND DEATH YOU WILL NEVER PART. WHAT A TOUCHING MOMENT.” and I am DYING. Also, this will not be the last time ZZS/WKX will exhibit what Xie’er wants from his Awful Yifu. Anyway, Xie’er calls ZZS “Leader Zhou,” then tells WKX that he’ll tell them who he (Xie Wang) is if WKX tells them all who he is first. ZZS is Very Done with all of this and smoke bombs the Scorpions to escape. Xie’er shows he actually does know who both of them are – even though each of them doesn’t know everything about the other’s identity yet, and won’t for a while – by telling Du Pusa and Pretty Arhat that they’re the leader of Tian Chuang and the leader of the Ghost Valley and wondering “How did these two devils end up together?” Like calls to like, I guess.

OK, this is getting super-long, so I’m going to attempt to wrap up with the actual Wenzhou material. We cut to Murder Dads and Chengling sitting in the forest, around a campfire, and Chengling is in heaven, back with his family. He’s super-emotional, and ZZS is all, come on, be a man, don’t cry (OK, crybaby). WKX gives some campfire-cooked rabbit? maybe? to ZZS, who starts a precedent by passing it to Chengling. Please, A-Xu. WKX wants to feed his laopo, will you eat something, ffs? Chengling, still emotional, tells them that he knows they’re the only ones who are sincerely kind to him, that Five Lakes Alliance has all kinds of agendas and none of them care about him, and nobody has asked him what he wants. (I know, bb, they were awful.) ZZS asks what he wants, and Chengling says he wants to learn martial arts, to get revenge, and to not be a useless child anymore. Oh god, the cut to WKX here. His face, y’all. He is not cool with the fact that Chengling thinks he can’t be a child anymore, and probably with whatever role he (WKX) had in it. He is so sad. It’s killing me. However, it’s not as if WKX has lost his edge, and he also pounces, asking Chengling if something happened that made him suspicious of the Alliance. Chengling spills that his dad already didn’t trust them and also told him not to trust anyone ever, but he trusts his Murder Dads! This kid, I tell you. He tells them that his dad hid the Mirror Lake Glazed Armor in his stomach and starts getting ready to cut it out for them before ZZS stops him. He tells them Yusen gave him a letter for the Changming Sword Immortal detailing Rong Xuan’s injury (and we get our first iteration of the story of the battle between the Five Lakes Alliance brothers and Rong Xuan, the poison on the sword, and how that turned Rong Xuan evil). Per Chengling, the original argument was about the Combined Six Cultivation Method. Also per Chengling, the Alliance bothers should have been responsible for Rong Xuan after that, but no one stood up for him – I mean, Zhang Yusen would have, but his legs were broken. We learn that the poisoned sword that injured Rong Xuan belonged to Gao Chong. ZZS looks taken aback, but this all just CONFIRMS WKX’s SUSPICIONS.

Cut away for another scene. Cut back. ZZS has suddenly remembered that he’s pissed off and that someone (else, not him) is sleeping on the couch tonight. Earlier, they were sat in order of Chengling, ZZS, WKX. Now Chengling has been put between them. WKX asks for wine, A-Xu is being passive-aggressive and ignoring him before finally handing the wine gourd to Chengling to pass to WKX. He won’t even look at WKX. It is hilarious, particularly as he only remembered he was mad after they’d all eaten dinner, which WKX cooked, and the pair of them made sure their child was OK. Chengling wants to know if they fought and tells them there’s nothing confidants can’t resolve. He’s in full puppy mode. He tells WKX to hurry up and comfort ZZS, because you know he looks tough on the surface but he’s got the softest heart! Didn’t you teach me that tough women can’t resist clingy men? ZZS’s indignant little face at this is a picture. Chengling offers to apologize for WKX. WKX’s face is all fondness for Chengling, except for the eyebrows, which are doing the Tragic Sadness Eyebrows at ZZS. ZZS is all, OK, fine, although he immediately changes the subject and starts talking about the kidnapping attempt. He tells Chengling that the world is dangerous right now, and the safest place for him is Yueyang Sect. ARE YOU KIDDING ME WITH THIS? Chengling sadly nods. My little dude, c’mon. ZZS’s Nails are bothering him and WKX takes the chance to feed him qi, which ZZS accepts – might I note - without complaint. WKX waxes rhapsodic about A-Xu’s shoulder blades, and says he once saw a dead body with beautiful shoulder blades. Smashcut to a flashback of two people who we don’t yet know are Zhen Ruyu and Gu Miaomiao dead on the ground. Although this takes place immediately after the scene of Gao Chong at the altar, when the first tablets we see are Zhen Ruyu’s and Gu Maiomiao’s, we also don’t know yet to connect those names to these bodies. Tricksy, show. We see Zhen Yan place his hand on Gu Miaomiao’s back, and WKX’s voiceover talks about how he could tell she was a beauty despite the blood everywhere. ZZS interrupts this morbid tale to say they should let the past stay in the past, and then tells WKX, “My condolences,” even though WKX hasn’t actually mentioned anywhere in the story about this dead body that it was even anyone he knew, let alone someone he was related to. Because A-Xu isn’t stupid. Immediately after this - after saying they should leave the past in the past - ZZS asks WKX who he is. WKX goes into his Philanthropist Wen evasion spiel. ZZS shakes his head, visibly steels himself, and apparently comes to the decision to model the behavior he’s trying to encourage by coming clean about his real name, his relationship to Siji Manor, all of his bad decisions, his choking guilt over the deaths of all the Siji Manor disciples, and his reign of state-sanctioned terror as founder and leader of Tian Chuang. Notably, the very first word Chengling speaks to ZZS after hearing this rundown of supposed and actual crimes is to call him “Shifu” again to get his attention before asking for more info about the Scorpions. THIS CHILD. MY HEART.

ZZS tells them both, “I spent half my life alone, doing things I didn’t want to do and killing people I didn’t want to kill,” and I literally want to reach into the screen and shake WKX, because OMG LAO WEN. You are reflections of each other, and he’s baring his soul, and you’re going to continue to be so afraid that he’s not going to accept every part of you that it’s going to be episodes and episodes before you open up, and even then, only after he figures it out on his own. :hands: To make things even more OBVIOUS, ZZS then asks Chengling if he still wants ZZS to be his shifu after learning all of this, and Chengling doesn’t even hesitate, he says “Of course,” and ZZS and I are both about to cry. UGH. Zhang Zhehan, your face. It’s killing me. This is a man seeing the hope of resurrection for the sect he was convinced he had ground into dust. ZZS and Chengling are both so busy being emotional at each other that WKX has to take matters into his own hands, encouraging Chengling to bow, and we get a real bow to shifu this time, in a scene that once again mirrors the later scene when Zhen Yan makes his bow to Qin Huaizhang to become a Siji Manor disciple.

ZZS tells Chengling, all right, then. You are the first disciple of the sixth generation. (SHIXIONG. NO PRESSURE.)

End ep.

[yurireview]

Azula is not abusive, she is only royalty

I think that many of the Avatar fandom must really know what it is like to be part of a dynasty (especially one with an absolutist regime)

Many judge Azula with current morals, when she finds herself in a Monarchical environment being the Crown Princess (even if Zuko is older)

This scene here is normal in all ancient dynasties, absolute loyalty to the dynasty (although most of them were men) but it should be noted that Azula is the only remarkable Princess of the Fire Nation

This was the monarchical power and this affects a lot how these kings and queens behave with the people around them.

I will explain with this scene (Here Queen Christina tells her companion Ebba to undress in front of her and proceeds to touch her) ... again in the modern standard (this is harassment) but before it was not like that, yet if Ebba wanted that to happen (she had no choice)

The queen asked her for something

I think the narrative shows us that Ty Lee was much more important than other people to Azula ... I always found her scene cute.

Many will say "but she pushed her when Ty Lee beat her, she's evil, abuses her"

Something that must be understood, that although someone is a friend of the prince (even being children) is his subject, he or She  is not allowed to be "better" I know that it is tedious, but it is the reality ... it is like in this historical series where the prince made his friend help him escape from the palace (even though that almost led to his friend execution)

Azula had an upbringing where she was not allowed to fail because there were consequences ... but above all she was loyal to her father because apart from her leader, he was the only one who gave her "affection"

The meeting with Ty Lee is very special

It's one of the few times that Azula seems happy without a smug expression on her face like when she was a girl, just a happy smile when meeting someone she missed again.

Many will say "but she made Ty Lee go with her"

I ask them, did they not attend to the plot? her father, the most cruel Fire Lord in history, asked her for a mission, Azula considered that she needs Ty Lee to fulfill that mission ... it is not a matter of what Azula wants, but it is something necessary.

Azula action is questionable, but in her circumstance and at her time it was normal for someone from the dynasty

I can give examples of this that are repeated in many kings and queens

Now when Ty Lee and Mai worked for Azula, did Azula punish Ty Lee or Mai for failures? Nop

Because they literally failed 90% of their missions

In fact Azula even defended and supported the idea of ​​Ty Lee in front of the war ministers of the Fire Nation.

The King-Princes generally "abused" their subjects when they failed even if it was only a small mistake ... they threatened them with execution or worse (sometimes they even did) but again when did Azula do this?

Again it is evident that Ty Lee was like Azula "favorite" this is normal in members of the royalty (they always have someone like that, be it a friend or lover)

It's funny how while Zuko was with Mai, Azula was on her thing with Ty Lee

I think the beach was where you see that Azula really has a special affection for Ty Lee because this was the only time she apologized in the whole series.

But the surprising thing is that Ty Lee wasn't even surprised that Azula apologized and this is a lot

Azula was a normal girl but raised in the environment of the Monarchy, it's that simple ... she probably had feelings for Ty Lee (which she was hiding and didn't want to have any weaknesses)

Mai betrayed the Fire Nation Betrayed her trust and made her look weak She the trauma she has with her father of never failing

Any act of betrayal is immediate execution, no matter the friendship or anything... that's the reality, just take a history book and see how many leaders have executed their friends just for disobeying orders.

What Mai did is serious and without a doubt it was direct execution

Mai was going to be executed but she couldn't do that with Ty Lee and changed her order to just put them in prison

Ozai already knew about the lie and the failure of her mission, Azula was terrified of the consequences ... after that she began to not bear the stress, she no longer had anyone in the world ... she could recover but with all the situation was unlikely in the short time

She was only 14 and was going to turn 15 it was a lot of stress

I loved how they pointed out this little detail about Azula ... it is obvious that he does have feelings for Azula (a pity that the comic still does not address this but I think that at some point they will)

What fascinates me about Ty Lee is that his reaction is very realistic no matter how close they have been ... it is normal to be afraid of someone from the dynasty, in any historical story the friends-lovers even relatives were afraid that in some point they will be executed or punished.

Ty Lee was the person closest to Azula and "betrayed" her and even in spite of her fear, a part of her expects something else to the "punishment" that Mai mentions ... I think that's why even though they didn't show us much of Azula and Ty Lee ... it's fascinating

It is not a rose-colored ship, but it is realistic of the relationship with someone from the dynasty (More than a dynasty as ruthless as that of the Fire Lords)

I'm sure at some point they will explore more of Ty Lee and Azula relationship (although to be honest I also hope so in Netflix Live Action)

I think that now that Azula no longer has real power (she is an ordinary person) she should redeem herself and make peace with one of the few people who even though she was somewhat afraid of her, could show her a kind side in a genuine way.

That would be one of the first steps to redeem her

With this I say goodbye and I bring you curiosity that since book 3 Ty Lee stopped being interested in men just when she became more intimate with Azula.

[oneoftheextras]

Caged

Alpha!Villain!All Might x Omega!Reader

masterlist | tip jar

prompt: Villian/Alpha All Might/Toshinori. Maybe Toshinori is 'friends' with an omega barista and one night he torments her as All Might and in her panic it sends her into a heat and she runs to Toshi's home where he gets to reap the rewards ;)

warnings: A/B/O dynamics if that’s a warning. Definite Con/Non-Con (it’s definitely very forceful) Also Smut, lots of smut. It is a long boy too so buckle up.

Part 1 | Part 2 |

This shift was dragging. The smell of coffee was stuck inside your nose and wasn’t leaving any time soon. Why on earth they decided to open your small cafe up for 24 hours a day, was beyond you. 

It was probably because this was the most popular coffee house in the city, and there was  a need for coffee at all hours of the day now.

You were sipping on your 2nd coffee of the shift, and it was only 11:17pm, you’d somehow been talked into covering your friend’s night shift.

Normally there was a work policy in place that Omegas were not allowed to work past 9pm close to their heat. There were too many instances of the wrong type of Alpha strolling in and causing issues for the Omegas.

Luckily, you had a week until yours so you didn’t mind covering. It wasn’t like you were one of those soft and vulnerable Omegas that rolled over for any Alpha that barked at you, you actually liked telling them where to stick it if they tried anything.

You’d remembered once, a group of Alpha villains had tried to rob the place once but you and a few of the Beta baristas had managed to hold them off until the heroes came.

Tonight was a quiet night, your shift was nearly over and you could tuck yourself away and enjoy your week off.

Ding you heard the bell of the door sound. Standing up from your crouching position, you were previously storing an order of coffee beans into the cupboards, you greeted the customer.

“Oh hey” you smiled, “Hey” he smiled back. One of your regulars, he would come in later on in the day, every day, and order the same coffee. “Americano, two sugars?” You asked and he nodded.

You’d always presumed that he must work night shifts somewhere, the huge dark circles under his eyes and his lanky body gave that away,

“Coming right up” you smiled again and went over to the coffee station. “Busy night?” He asked, he was often chatty with you if no one else was around. “Not really, everything’s been really quiet ever since that big guy stopped attacking people” you replied.

“Big guy?” He questioned, he never really spoke to you in long sentences but more liked to listen to you talk. “Yeah, you know the one, the huge guy - about 7 foot guy with the muscles” you gestured to your arms and flexed over dramatically.

The guy chuckled slightly at your imitation “I can’t say I’ve heard of him” he added, “How have you not?!” You exclaimed, placing a cup under the portafilter and waited for the hot water to flow through the ground beans.

“He’s that big scary villain that robbed the bank on 2nd all by himself” you explained, but his expression was blank, “He also levelled two skyscrapers last week just by clapping” you continued.

“Doesn’t ring any bells” he said leaning onto the counter and resting his head in the palm of his hand. You were shocked, how could he not know of this guy.

“Anyway, he’s super scary” you laughed, watching the coffee run into the cup. “What are you doing up getting coffee so late?” You asked, trying to change the subject.

He lifted his head out of his hand and rubbed the back of his neck, “I’ve just got some business to attend to” he nervously chuckled.

He had lifted his hand so quickly that he wafted a breeze of air towards you, he was an Alpha. You’d never noticed it before, but the strong smell of oak wood and caramel hit you like a truck.

Finally you could smell something other than coffee beans.

Hesitantly, you put his cup onto a saucer and brought it over to him. He had already put the exact amount of money down on the counter for you.

“What about you?” He returned the question, you glanced up from the coffee and up to his face, you could see that his eyes were a bright sky blue. “Oh, um” you stammered, picking up the money and putting it into the till, “Just going to relax at home after my shift” you said.

He nodded, smiled and said “Thank you” before shuffling over to a table by the window. You crouched back down and continued storing the bags of beans, wiping a bead of sweat off of your forehead.

Watching the digital clock on the register hit 00:00 meant that you were allowed to leave, “See you guys next week” you shouted into the back room as you swapped your apron for your jacket.

Finally you could finish that Netflix series you were engrossed in.

You took a right as soon as the coffee shop door closed behind you, pushing your earbuds into your ears and pressing play on your music, you began the tedious walk home.

It was a nice clear night, there was literally no one else but yourself along the streets so you could enjoy the stars. You were just about to get to the good bit of your favourite song as you noticed some inky black clouds filling the sky a few blocks away. 

Pulling your earbuds out you broke into a light jog to see what was going on, it may be some dumpster that some kids set alight. Or worse. As you turned the corner that the smoke was coming from your heart almost stopped, there was a group of villains laughing and loitering around a burning car. You could tell they were villains by the multiple piles of bodies around their feet - all heroes that had probably tried to stop them.

But that laugh.

You’d heard it only through news broadcasts and the radio, if you didn’t know what this man was capable of then it would have been a charming and heartwarming chuckle. But instead it made your blood turn cold.

You couldn’t move, so petrified with fear all you could do was stare ahead at the sight in front of you.

“Can you smell that?” you heard one of them say, all of their heads turning towards your direction. Shit. You hadn’t taken your suppressants today, you thought it would be okay, normally people couldn’t scent you so easily.

“Omega” one of them shouted, your knees felt weak but you turned back the way you came in an attempt to flee. Instantly you were dragged backwards by some sort of capture weapon, hitting the hard pavement with a thud.

Before you knew it you were tied up and at the feet of the six most menacing looking villains. “What should we do with her?” one of them said, their voice gruff and horse. “I have a few ideas” another voice said - all you could do was widen your eyes and shake your head.

“Enough!” he tallest one bellowed, as he turned around you were completely filled with fear, before he was crouching down so he seemed like he was the same size as the others. Now that he was in front of you, you could really see the pure size of him.

His entire body was muscular, even his fingers had muscles. 

“It’s you” you whispered, your breathing became erratic and you started to panic. “All Smite” he said, smiling down at you and holding out his hand out as though to shake your hand. Obviously you were bound very tightly by the other villain’s scarf so you couldn’t shake his hand. The villain then burst into laughter, throwing his head back.

He was toying with you.

“Let me go please” you begged, trying to stay strong and not cry out of fear. “You hear that boys?” All Smite asked his friends “She wants us to let her go” he let out a bellowing laugh again.

He came a lot closer to you this time, his friends coming up behind you and holding you in place so you couldn’t back away. He smelt very strongly of Alpha, which didn’t surprise you, but his scent was so strong; you’d only smelt that on Alpha’s that are in rut. And he very clearly wasn’t.

You could feel your skin starting heat up and your breathing become quick. He placed his huge hand under your chin, so gently that if your eyes were closed you wouldn’t have thought he was a villain. As soon as his skin came into contact with yours it felt like electricity flowing over your skin.

You let out a small whimper as the voltage hit your core and made you ache. You weren’t supposed to go into heat for another week, now was not the time for this to be happening.

“Boss she smells so good, can’t we just-” the villain holding you in place asked but was quickly stopped by All Smite’s hand being raised. You watched his nostrils flare, he was purposely smelling you too.

This was the exact reason why Omega’s weren’t supposed to work past 9pm.

Your heavy breathing wasn’t helping. Every time you breathed in all you could smell was him, and your Omega instincts were pushing you to get closer and fully inhale him.

“Let her go” he commanded the one holding you in restraints, you could feel the other villains stop for a second as though they were going to question their leader. You never took your eyes off of the huge man in front of you.

“Do it” he shouted, to which they all let go of you and stepped away. Once the restraints had fallen off of you you stumbled forward, trying to catch your breath, you peered up at him, waiting to see what he was going to do next. But he just inspected at you. 

When it was clear they weren’t going to attack you, you took your opportunity to run. You sprinted back the way you came and darted down the nearest side street and out of view. Hiding behind a dumpster, you tried to calm your breathing. 

In and out. In and out.

A giant surge of pain ripped through your entire body, you doubled over clutching your stomach, trying not to scream. You really needed to get home, you weren’t ready for your heat to start so early.

“There’s no point in hiding when your scent can lead me straight to you” you heard echo throughout the empty streets. You stiffened your body as soon as it hit your ears.

He was right, you needed to get off the streets.

Getting back up onto your feet, you continued to run until you found a seemingly abandoned house with an open, and slightly smashed, window. Peering through, there was definitely no one inside, taking a deep breath, you threw yourself through the opening and slid it shut, trying to make as little noise as possible. 

Thank god you were off the streets. That made you feel a little bit safer.

Your heart rate started to calm down, but the burning heat between your legs wasn’t going anywhere. Now that you had time to think, the tingling became more obvious.

Rummaging through your bag, you desperately tried to search for a bottle of suppressants or something that would help to calm your symptoms. You were fully aware that once in heat, there was nothing that could stop it, but you had to try something.

“Damn it!” you cursed, letting your bag drop to the floor, you hadn’t brought anything with you because you weren’t supposed to be going through this yet. “Stupid Omega body” you scorned yourself aloud.

“I don’t think it’s stupid” you heard from the corner of the room, immediately you stopped moving, trying to let your eyes adjust enough to see where the voice came from. 

You didn’t have to wait for long before you could make out the small, skinny figure sitting on a couch across the room from you, “I’m sorry, is this your house?” you stammered an apology, trying to grab a hold of your bag and get to your feet.

“It is” they replied, also standing and coming towards you. Your jaw almost fell open with relief, it was the regular from the coffee house, you would recognise him anywhere, “Oh thank god, it’s you” you breathed a sigh of relief.

“It is” he repeated, but something sounded different, he had a sly smirk on his face and his tone was darker than normal. He took a few steps towards you and you were immediately hit with his scent, oak wood and caramel. Alpha.

Your mind started to spin and you held back a grimace when another surge of electricity rocketed through you, you needed to leave, now - before you weren’t able to control yourself.

Nervous that he had noticed the change in your facial expression, you said “Again, I’m really sorry, I was running away from-” you cut yourself off, realising you were rambling away.

“I’m just going to go” you gestured behind you, you were about to turn towards the direction of the window you’d crawled through when you heard a loud sound, it was as though someone was letting air out of tyres. 

The room filled with a white steam, blocking your vision, it was only there for a few seconds but when it started to clear you couldn’t believe your eyes. Standing in front of you was a gigantic man, the man from before, the exact villain you were trying to escape from.

You swallowed a lump in your throat as you felt your skin warm up, your hands were trembling as well as your knees. As quickly as you could, you pivoted on your heels and lunged for the window, but a gust of wind later and you crashed into him, knocking you on your ass again.

“How...?” you questioned him, looking between where he was originally standing and the proud stance he had in front of your exit. How did he move so fast? 

Your breathing quickened again, feeling your heartbeat almost burst through your chest, but every inhale was pulling his scent into your being. Your brain was foggy, you couldn’t think straight, every thought was clouded by his smell.

Scrambling backwards as fast as you could, you backed yourself away from him, you would definitely have carpet burn on your hands tomorrow morning. If you even got to see tomorrow morning.

“I was willing to let you go” he finally said, dead bolting the window shut, “But that look of pure fear in your eyes” he pointed his thick finger at your face and let out a chuckle “And God, your scent! It just drove me crazy” he finished.

“Please All Smite-san, I-” you remembered his introduction from before and didn’t want to give him any excuse to hurt you, but vocal chords shook as you spoke. You couldn’t even finish your sentence before you started to get lightheaded, this was all too much.

“They say that the pleasure is in the chase, never in the capture” he started to walk back over to you, checking every window and door around him to make sure they were locked, “But I beg to differ” he smiled at you, glaring down at your small form below him.

“I barely even got to enjoy the chase, you so kindly invited yourself into my home after all” he grinned, he was so close to you. The proximity was killing you, it wasn’t just his scent, his entire persona was taking you over the edge - he was an extremely dangerous and powerful man, he could end your life with a literal snap of his fingers if he wanted to.

Your body started to betray you, everything was tingling, you crossed your legs in the most subtle way that you could, just to try and get some friction and make the need go away. He saw, he definitely saw.

He lowered himself into a crouch so he was eye level with you, you watched as he scanned your body very slowly. Shuffling backwards slightly, you felt your back hit the couch. It was only when he stood up again did you see the bulge in his pants - he was extremely calm for an Alpha that was alone with an Omega in heat.

It was now or never, you thought. The room was filling with his scent and every part of your body was screaming at you to submit to him, but you were better than to allow yourself to a villain. Shakily you stood tall, trying to match his intimidating stature, “It was nice to meet you, but I’ll be leaving now” you faked confidence and started to storm past him and towards the door.

“Omega!” he bellowed using his Alpha voice just as you had past him, your body made your feet stop. Hearing him stand directly behind you made every hair on the back of your body stand to attention, he was inches away from touching you and you needed it, any type of contact, you needed it. “Please Alpha, I need-” you begged but he interrupted you “A knot?” he answered for you, it wasn’t what you were going to say, but it was what your mind was screaming.

Your knees went weak at his voice, you heard the floorboards shift behind you and then you felt his abdominal muscles press against your back. Letting yourself lean into him, you whimpered as every part of you that was in contact with him tingled.

“Is that what you want Omega?” he addressed you, gently placing one of his enormous hands on your shoulder, you couldn’t help but nod. He didn’t keep his hand on your shoulder for long, he began to trace his fingers down your arm and across your stomach.

“Say it for me, tell me what you want” he commanded you, you bit your bottom lip trying to stop yourself, but you couldn’t, your body was full of aching and need “I want a knot” you just about managed to squeak out.

He lightly chuckled behind you as you felt the vibration from his chest against your back. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to enjoy the feeling of his hands against you, but you gasped when you felt him take your breast in his hand and massage it.

“Who’s knot do you want, Omega?” he teased you, deciding not to fight anymore you whispered “Yours, Alpha”. A quiet growl sounded in his throat and it made the room start to spin.

Quickly, he used his other hand to lift you off of the ground and move you a few steps towards his kitchenette. He pinned you between himself and the counter while the hand that he’d used to move you was undoing your pants.

Everything was moving so fast, you hardly had any time to register what was going on, all your mind was focused on was the dull ache in your clit and the sting of him pinching your nipple through your shirt.

He pushed his knee in between your thighs which forced your legs to move apart and you to stumble, he brought his other hand up to stabilise you and hold you in place. You could feel the heat radiating from your underwear, you needed him to touch you.

Almost as though he had read your mind he playfully grazed his finger over your underwear, making you tingle even more. Rubbing little circles around your clit through the fabric, he chuckled at the way you whimpered and moaned against him.

His finger hooked itself under your panties and pushed them to the side, he continued to run his finger up and down your wet folds, dipping in teasingly every so often. 

“Please” you begged, you weren’t even sure if he heard you but you hopped he did. His finger disappeared from you as you felt his hand start to rub your lower back softly, “I’m going to warn you now” he said, feeling his hot breath against the back of your neck, “I will be rough, and it will probably hurt” you could tell he was grinning. He was just as sadistic and psychotic as the news articles had said.

“Don’t hurt me please” you begged him, but the desperation in your voice was quickly replaced with a moan when you felt something thick start to rub up and down your slit. “I’ll try, but no promises” he whispered in your ear as you felt the tip of him start to push into you.

It was absolutely huge, and not just in the traditional sense, you felt yourself stretch to try and fit him in and when you wouldn’t stretch anymore you felt it start to sting. You winced and whined at the pain - it was pleasurable but hurt. 

When he didn’t stop pushing inside of you, you flung your arm back against his chest to try and lift yourself up and give you more time to adjust but he grabbed your arm and pinned it to your back, pushing himself even harder.

You felt the rest of his head stuff itself inside your small entrance and squealed when the rest of him slid in so smoothly. Panting and sweating profusely, you involuntarily clenched around him with a moan.

Giving you little to no time to adjust to his size, he started to move in and out of you, never pulling his head out. To his credit, he started slowly and when your squeaks turned into moans he picked up his pace. 

With your free hand, you grasped at the sink, trying to hold onto anything that would ground you. If he thrust into you any harder you were sure you would go through the wall.

Surprisingly, he was moaning too. Every time he bottomed out it would send a wave of tingling pleasure throughout your body, alongside your moans you could hear his deep throaty grunts.

He moved on of his hands to be back on your shoulder, pulling you back onto his length as he thrusted into you.

Just as you thought you were about to cum, he stopped thrusting and dragged you away from counter. Instead he picked you up with your back still against his chest and one thigh in each of his hands.

He bounced you into the air and let gravity slide you back down onto his dick, stretching you even more and filling you entirely. Completely helpless, you grabbed his forearms to try and steady yourself but his overwhelming strength was no match for you.

He could throw you around as much as he liked.

You tightened your grip around his length as you felt the tight coil inside you start to tighten and tighten until you couldn’t take it anymore. Screaming a stream of cuss words, you came around him.

Clamping his hand around your mouth and only holding you with one hand, your cries became muffled, but your body shook violently.

You could feel him start to pulse inside you and his knot straining for entry “I’m going to cum inside you Omega” he told you, his voice commanding.

Attempting to shake your head and whimper a ‘no’ you felt his knot push into you - the sensation hurt but after taking his head earlier it wasn’t as bad. The tight muscle rubbed your insides harshly as his thrusts became faster and less relenting.

His rough fingers pressed into your cheeks as his grip on your mouth got stronger. You were starting to see stars when he pulled you down onto him and held you in place - you felt his seed fire into you and fill you entirely.

Even you had to admit the feeling of bliss was like nothing you’d experienced before. Dizziness overtook you and your limbs went numb.

His chest was heaving up and down with his heavy breathing as he walked over to his couch and laid himself down with you on top of him, his knot never allowing him to pull out of you.

For now your heat was satisfied, but you didn’t know how much of him you could take. You couldn’t help but feel empty and sad that he hadn’t claimed you.

“You took me very well” he praised you, gently massaging your thighs and stomach, “But I’m not done with you” he grinned.

[snootsnoot-fiction]

Sweet Anniversary

Pairing: Klaus Hargreaves x reader

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Fluff, food mention.

Author's note: I wrote this last year as a birthday present for @lemonboy-milo and this is also the first fic I wrote so feedback would be appreciated thank you :)

Summary: You're in a relationship with the one and only Klaus Hargreaves, and you wake up one morning to an empty bed.

It had been two years. Two whole years since the day his life changed for the better. The life of Klaus Hargreaves had been a rocky one. And unpleasant. In fact, the only time he felt any kind of sanity was when he was high. Especially when he finally got away from that excuse of a home and a father. In the end, only daddy’s number one was left.

The numbness Klaus always felt took the edge off every negative thing he felt. It didn’t stop him from feeling terrible, but deep down, there was something that made him want to keep going. What for, he wasn’t sure. The only real company he had nowadays was his brother Ben, and he wasn’t even alive. Every living person had either abused or abandoned Klaus, or they simply just didn’t care. Despite his powers, the man had always felt alone. Hard as he tried to feel otherwise. Life had been one long journey that he really did not like. Until today.

On this day, two years ago, Klaus had decided to walk into a coffee shop. He had been skulking from the world, somewhere near said coffee shop, and his brother trying to talk sense into him as usual. Then, by some random chance, he caught the eye of someone soon before they walked into the building. For one, small moment, time seemed to slow down. However, this person seemed to be shy as they looked away almost too soon. Ben had sensed it, though he simply watched as his brother Klaus watched after this mystery person for a few moments, before following.

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

Klaus was sat cross-legged on a random bench, just next to an alleyway. He was staring into space, not even hearing a word Ben said. After a long few moments, he came back to reality and looked at his ghost brother.

“I'm sorry, what?” The most uninterested look on Klaus’ face as his brother just looked away and ignored him. It was in that moment, with the coffee shop in his line of sight, he caught the eye of the most gorgeous person he had ever laid eyes on. Suddenly the look on his face turned to one of interest as he sat up and perked up. Unfortunately for him, you had soon ducked into the shop, leaving Klaus staring after you. Something about you tugged at his curiosity. You appeared to be shy. The Hargreave man could tell.

After mere seconds of inner debate, Klaus decided to get up. He told himself that perhaps he was in need of a drink. Walking over to the coffee place, he opened the door – eyes immediately finding the same cute person he had seen earlier, fumbling through his wallet as the person behind the counter called for the next customer. There was no line behind you, and Klaus could see you were at least a little distressed. So he walked up to stand next to you.

“Allow me..” Pulling a note out of his pocket, Klaus placed it on the counter.

“I’ll have what he’s having.” Then as the person began sorting change out, he added, “no no,” he sniffed, “keep it.” Klaus looked to you next to him with his signature, crooked, charming smile.

After you had both collected your drinks, you sat down at a table and started talking. You two hit it off quite well. Something just seemed to click between you. Klaus knew, from the moment he walked into the coffee shop, that there was more to this person than meets the eye. You were unlike any other human he had met, and he loved that about you.

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

That was an important day to Klaus. You were important to Klaus. Meeting you changed his life more than he realised. The two of you eventually started dating. Nothing either of you were uncomfortable with. You also got to really know each other. Open up to each other. You had embraced one another. Whenever you opened up to him, he only loved you more. He wanted to do better for you. To help you. To be there whenever you needed him.

Of course, it wasn’t easy. You had your dark days, but he was there for you. He even recalled a few times when he had left the Academy in the middle of the night in order to be there for you. You’d tell him he didn’t need to, but he did. No matter how much you denied it, you did need him. Just like he needed you. The pair of you had grown so close within months, and he wouldn’t change a thing for the world.

You and Klaus had been living together only for a short while. You had both agreed to take things slow when you first started dating. Officially, you were together for over a year. For once in his life, his siblings seemed happy for him. Despite how shy you were, Klaus eventually had persuaded you to meet the rest of his siblings – having already met Ben. They all loved you. Granted, Five was a little blunt at first, but even he warmed up to you in his own way soon enough.

Klaus knew you, so he knew exactly what to do to make this day special and nice for you. For the both of you. He wasn’t entirely sure if you remembered, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to have this day. Just the two of you. While you were still asleep, Klaus got up, dressed, and left the place. Only for a short while; he knew exactly what he was doing. In case you woke up before he got back, though, he left a note on the fridge.

When you awoke, you were confused as to why the space next to you was empty. Why there wasn’t the warm body of your boyfriend cuddled against you. Giving yourself time to actually wake up, eventually you got out of bed. On your way to the kitchen to make a coffee, you heard the front door open. In walked Klaus. The love of your life.

“Where’d you go?” You asked with a curious look at the bag in his hand and the way he was standing; clearly holding something else behind his back.

“Didn’t you read the note?” He questioned. It was only then that he realised you must have just woken up.

“I literally just woke up…” you mumbled quietly. Still half asleep.

“Oh! Silly me!” Klaus let out a little laugh as he smiled at you. “Perfect timing though..” He put his stuff on the ground, making sure his body was in the way so you couldn’t see what exactly he had, “I just bought a few things.” Then he stood up and faced you. “Now dear,” he ushered you to the living room, sitting you on the sofa, “you just wait here.” Before he left, he turned the TV and Netflix on, then put The Great British Bake-Off on. He handed you the remote, in case you wanted to watch something else, before he left the room.

You sat there in silent confusion for a moment, then turned to watch the TV. You had long ago accepted how random and crazy the man could be at times. It was only one of the many reasons you loved him.

It wasn’t long before he reappeared – a bag dangling from his arm, and a drink in each hand. You recognised the drinks as the usual order you got from any coffee place. But why had Klaus done this exactly?

“Happy anniversary honey!” The biggest smile was plastered on his lips as he waved his arms up for dramatic effect, careful not to spill the coffees.

“It’s not…” your face twisted with confusion. “What?”

“I mean, it’s not our ‘anniversary’ anniversary,” Klaus rolled his eyes at his own choice of words, “but we met today – two years ago.” The smile was back on his face as he gave you a coffee, and sat down with his own, and the bag.

“That’s so sweet… but you didn’t have to do this.” After his words, it had all clicked in your head. This drink wasn’t just your usual order, but the same exact drink you both had when you met all that time ago.

“No! Don’t say that! I did have to do this…” Klaus set the bag and coffee on the floor before turning to face you, and sitting cross-legged on the sofa – a sofa that the both of you had cuddled on, and even fallen asleep on a few times since moving in together. The man gently took your coffee to put it on the floor and held your hands in his as he looked into your eyes. Those beautiful eyes.

“I didn’t have a life before I met you… meeting you has made me happier. Falling in love with you has made me happier. You think yourself as imperfect. Nobody’s perfect- hell! I’m far from it.” He chuckled a little as his voice broke slightly. “But to me, you are perfect..” His eyes shined with potential tears. “So I got us those coffees, some healthy, low calorie snacks for you, and all the cuddles you want. Because I love you, Y/N.”

As you listened to Klaus, tears gathered in your own eyes. Tears of happiness, and love. You wondered what you did to deserve him, but you weren’t about to question it. He was here. You had him, and he had you. By some great luck, you had him, and you couldn’t be more happy than you were when you were with him. “I love you too Klaus…” You couldn’t help the little giggle that escaped you. Before you knew it, your boyfriend had drawn you into his arms in a tight embrace, kissing the side of your head.

“Now…” Klaus begun as he slowly and reluctantly pulled away, his hands sliding down your arms to hold your hands again, “What d’ya say we cuddle and rewatch episodes of our favourite shows, yeah?”

“I’d love that.” You replied with the warmest smile you could offer. You didn’t think you could feel more blessed in the moment. More happy. Or more in love than ever before.

While you made yourself comfy, Klaus went and fetched a blanket. He moved everything you’d need closer before lying down on the sofa to cuddle. Your boyfriend lied on his back whilst you lied just next to him with your head on his chest. Whenever you wanted a sip of your coffee, he held the drink up for you. For the day, he wanted you to relax as much as possible. No worries. No anxieties. Nothing. Just you, him, the much-loved sofa, and some TV.

[dornish-queen]

Pedro Pascal on Fame and ‘The Mandalorian’: ‘Can We Cut the S— and Talk About the Child?’

By Adam B. Vary

Photographs by Beau Grealy

When Pedro Pascal was roughly 4 years old, he and his family went to see the 1978 hit movie “Superman,” starring Christopher Reeve. Pascal’s young parents had come to live in San Antonio after fleeing their native Chile during the rise of dictator Augusto Pinochet in the mid-1970s. Taking Pascal and his older sister to the movies — sometimes more than once a week — had become a kind of family ritual, a way to soak up as much American pop culture as possible.

At some point during this particular visit, Pascal needed to go to the bathroom, and his parents let him go by himself. “I didn’t really know how to read yet,” Pascal says with the same Cheshire grin that dazzled “Game of Thrones” fans during his run as the wily (and doomed) Oberyn Martel. “I did not find my way back to ‘Superman.'”

Instead, Pascal wandered into a different theater (he thinks it was showing the 1979 domestic drama “Kramer vs. Kramer,” but, again, he was 4). In his shock and bewilderment at being lost, he curled up into an open seat and fell asleep. When he woke up, the movie was over, the theater was empty, and his parents were standing over him. To his surprise, they seemed rather calm, but another detail sticks out even more.

“I know that they finished their movie,” he says, bending over in laughter. “My sister was trying to get a rise out of me by telling me, ‘This happened and that happened and then Superman did this and then, you know, the earthquake and spinning around the planet.'” In the face of such relentless sibling mockery, Pascal did the only logical thing: “I said, ‘All that happened in my movie too.'”

He had no way of knowing it at the time, of course, but some 40 years later, Pascal would in fact get the chance to star in a movie alongside a DC Comics superhero — not to mention battle Stormtroopers and, er, face off against the most formidable warrior in Westeros. After his breakout on “Game of Thrones,” he became an instant get-me-that-guy sensation, mostly as headstrong, taciturn men of action — from chasing drug traffickers in Colombia for three seasons on Netflix’s “Narcos” to squaring off against Denzel Washington in “The Equalizer 2.”

This year, though, Pascal finds himself poised for the kind of marquee career he’s spent a lifetime dreaming about. On Oct. 30, he’ll return for Season 2 as the title star of “The Mandalorian,” Lucasfilm’s light-speed hit “Star Wars” series for Disney Plus that earned 15 Emmy nominations, including best drama, in its first season. And then on Dec. 25 — COVID-19 depending — he’ll play the slippery comic book villain Maxwell Lord opposite Gal Gadot, Chris Pine and Kristen Wiig in “Wonder Woman 1984.”

The roles are at once wildly divergent and the best showcase yet for Pascal’s elastic talents. In “The Mandalorian,” he must hide his face — and, in some episodes, his whole body — in a performance that pushes minimalism and restraint to an almost ascetic ideal. In “Wonder Woman 1984,” by stark contrast, he is delivering the kind of big, broad bad-guy character that populated the 1980s popcorn spectaculars of his youth.

“I continually am so surprised when everybody pegs him as such a serious guy,” says “Wonder Woman 1984” director Patty Jenkins. “I have to say, Pedro is one of the most appealing people I have known. He instantly becomes someone that everybody invites over and you want to have around and you want to talk to.”

Talk with Pascal for just five minutes — even when he’s stuck in his car because he ran out of time running errands before his flight to make it to the set of a Nicolas Cage movie in Budapest — and you get an immediate sense of what Jenkins is talking about. Before our interview really starts, Pascal points out, via Zoom, that my dog is licking his nether regions in the background. “Don’t stop him!” he says with an almost naughty reproach. “Let him live his life!”

Over our three such conversations, it’s also clear that Pascal’s great good humor and charm have been at once ballast for a number of striking hardships, and a bulwark that makes his hard-won success a challenge for him to fully accept.

Before Pascal knew anything about “The Mandalorian,” its showrunner and executive producer Jon Favreau knew he wanted Pascal to star in it.

“He feels very much like a classic movie star in his charm and his delivery,” says Favreau. “And he’s somebody who takes his craft very seriously.” Favreau felt Pascal had the presence and skill essential to deliver a character — named Din Djarin, but mostly called Mando — who spends virtually every second of his time on screen wearing a helmet, part of the sacrosanct creed of the Mandalorian order.

Convincing any actor to hide their face for the run of a series can be as precarious as escaping a Sarlacc pit. To win Pascal over in their initial meeting, Favreau brought him behind the “Mandalorian” curtain, into a conference room papered with storyboards covering the arc of the first season. “When he walked in, it must have felt a little surreal,” Favreau says. “You know, most of your experiences as an actor, people are kicking the tires to see if it’s a good fit. But in this case, everything was locked and loaded.”

Needless to say, it worked. “I hope this doesn’t sound like me fashioning myself like I’m, you know, so smart, but I agreed to do this [show] because the impression I had when I had my first meeting was that this is the next big s—,” Pascal says with a laugh.

Favreau’s determination to cast Pascal, however, put the actor in a tricky situation: Pascal’s own commitments to make “Wonder Woman 1984” in London and to perform in a Broadway run of “King Lear” with Glenda Jackson barreled right into the production schedule for “The Mandalorian.” Some scenes on the show, and in at least one case a full episode, would need to lean on the anonymity of the title character more than anyone had quite planned, with two stunt performers — Brendan Wayne and Lateef Crowder — playing Mando on set and Pascal dubbing in the dialogue months later.

Pascal was already being asked to smother one of his best tools as an actor, extraordinarily uncommon for anyone shouldering the newest iteration of a global live-action franchise. (Imagine Robert Downey Jr. only playing Iron Man while wearing a mask — you can’t!) Now he had to hand over control of Mando’s body to other performers too. Some actors would have walked away. Pascal didn’t.

“If there were more than just a couple of pages of a one-on-one scene, I did feel uneasy about not, in some instances, being able to totally author that,” he says. “But it was so easy in such a sort of practical and unexciting way for it to be up to them. When you’re dealing with a franchise as large as this, you are such a passenger to however they’re going to carve it out. It’s just so specific. It’s ‘Star Wars.'” (For Season 2, Pascal says he was on the set far more, though he still sat out many of Mando’s stunts.)

“The Mandalorian” was indeed the next big s—, helping to catapult the launch of Disney Plus to 26.5 million subscribers in its first six weeks. With the “Star Wars” movies frozen in carbonite until 2023 (at least), I noted offhand that he’s now effectively the face of one of the biggest pop-culture franchises in the world. Pascal could barely suppress rolling his eyes.

“I mean, come on, there isn’t a face!” he says with a laugh that feels maybe a little forced. “If you want to say, ‘You’re the silhouette’ — which is also a team effort — then, yeah.” He pauses. “Can we just cut the s— and talk about the Child?”

Yes, of course, the Child — or, as the rest of the galaxy calls it, Baby Yoda. Pascal first saw the incandescently cute creature during his download of “Mandalorian” storyboards in that initial meeting with Favreau. “Literally, my eyes following left to right, up and down, and, boom, Baby Yoda close to the end of the first episode,” he says. “That was when I was like, ‘Oh, yep, that’s a winner!'”

Baby Yoda is undeniably the breakout star of “The Mandalorian,” inspiring infinite memes and apocryphal basketball game sightings. But the show wouldn’t work if audiences weren’t invested in Mando’s evolving emotional connection to the wee scene stealer, something Favreau says Pascal understood from the jump. “He’s tracking the arc of that relationship,” says the showrunner. “His insight has made us rethink moments over the course of the show.” (As with all things “Star Wars,” questions about specifics are deflected in deference to the all-powerful Galactic Order of Spoilers.)

Even if Pascal couldn’t always be inside Mando’s body, he never left the character’s head, always aware of how this orphaned bounty hunter who caroms from planet to planet would look askance at anything that felt too good (or too adorable) to be true.

“The transience is something that I’m incredibly familiar with, you know?” Pascal says. “Understanding the opportunity for complexity under all of the armor was not hard for me.”

When Pascal was 4 months old, his parents had to leave him and his sister with their aunt, so they could go into hiding to avoid capture during Pinochet’s crackdown against his opposition. After six months, they finally managed to climb the walls of the Venezuelan embassy during a shift change and claim asylum; from there, the family relocated, first to Denmark, then to San Antonio, where Pascal’s father got a job as a physician.

Pascal was too young to remember any of this, and for a healthy stretch of his childhood, his complicated Chilean heritage sat in parallel to his life in the U.S. — separate tracks, equally important, never quite intersecting. By the time Pascal was 8, his family was able to take regular trips back to Chile to visit with his 34 first cousins. But he doesn’t remember really talking about any of his time there all that much with his American friends.

“I remember at one point not even realizing that my parents had accents until a friend was like, ‘Why does your mom talk like that?'” Pascal says. “And I remember thinking, like what?”

Besides, he loved his life in San Antonio. His father took him and his sister to Spurs basketball games during the week if their homework was done. He hoodwinked his mother into letting him see “Poltergeist” at the local multiplex. He watched just about anything on cable; the HBO special of Whoopi Goldberg’s one-woman Broadway show knocked him flat. He remembers seeing Henry Thomas in “E.T.” and Christian Bale in “Empire of the Sun” and wishing ardently, urgently, I want to live those stories too.

Then his father got a job in Orange County, Calif. After Pascal finished the fifth grade, they moved there. It was a shock. “There were two really, really rough years,” he says. “A lot of bullying.”

His mother found him a nascent performing arts high school in the area, and Pascal burrowed even further into his obsessions, devouring any play or movie he could get his hands on. His senior year, a friend of his mother’s gave Pascal her ticket to a long two-part play running in downtown Los Angeles that her bad back couldn’t withstand. He got out of school early to drive there by himself. It was the pre-Broadway run of “Angels in America.”

“And it changed me,” he says with almost religious awe. “It changed me.”

After studying acting at NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts, Pascal booked a succession of solid gigs, like MTV’s “Undressed” and “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” But the sudden death of his mother — who’d only just been permitted to move back to Chile a few years earlier — took the wind right from Pascal’s sails. He lost his agent, and his career stalled almost completely.

As a tribute to her, he decided to change his professional last name from Balmaceda, his father’s, to Pascal, his mother’s. “And also, because Americans had such a hard time pronouncing Balmaceda,” he says. “It was exhausting.”

Pascal even tried swapping out Pedro for Alexander (an homage to Ingmar Bergman’s “Fanny and Alexander,” one of the formative films of his youth). “I was willing to do absolutely anything to work more,” he says. “And that meant if people felt confused by who they were looking at in the casting room because his first name was Pedro, then I’ll change that. It didn’t work.”

It was a desperately lean time for Pascal. He booked an occasional “Law & Order” episode, but mostly he was pounding the pavement along with his other New York theater friends — like Oscar Isaac, who met Pascal doing an Off Broadway play. They became fast, lifelong friends, bonding over their shared passions and frustrations as actors.

“It’s gotten better, but at that point, it was so easy to be pigeonholed in very specific roles because we’re Latinos,” says Isaac. “It’s like, how many gang member roles am I going to be sent?” As with so many actors, the dream Pascal and Isaac shared to live the stories of their childhoods had been stripped down to its most basic utility. “The dream was to be able to pay rent,” says Isaac. “There wasn’t a strategy. We were just struggling. It was talking about how to do this thing that we both love but seems kind of insurmountable.”

As with so few actors, that dream was finally rekindled through sheer nerve and the luck of who you know, when another lifelong friend, actor Sarah Paulson, agreed to pass along Pascal’s audition for Oberyn Martell to her best friend Amanda Peet, who is married to “Game of Thrones” co-showrunner David Benioff.

“First of all, it was an iPhone selfie audition, which was unusual,” Benioff remembers over email. “And this wasn’t one of the new-fangled iPhones with the fancy cameras. It looked like s—; it was shot vertical; the whole thing was very amateurish. Except for the performance, which was intense and believable and just right.”

Before Pascal knew it, he found himself in Belfast, sitting inside the Great Hall of the Red Keep as one of the judges at Tyrion Lannister’s trial for the murder of King Joffrey. “I was between Charles Dance and Lena Headey, with a view of the entire f—ing set,” Pascal says, his eyes wide and astonished still at the memory. “I couldn’t believe I didn’t have an uncomfortable costume on. You know, I got to sit — and with this view.” He sighs. “It strangely aligned itself with the kind of thinking I was developing as a child that, at that point, I was convinced was not happening.”

And then it all started to happen.

In early 2018, while Pascal was in Hawaii preparing to make the Netflix thriller “Triple Frontier” — opposite his old friend Isaac — he got a call from the film’s producer Charles Roven, who told him Patty Jenkins wanted to meet with him in London to discuss a role in another film Roven was producing, “Wonder Woman 1984.”

“It was a f—ing offer,” Pascal says in an incredulous whisper. “I wasn’t really grasping that Patty wanted to talk to me about a part that I was going to play, not a part that I needed to get. I wasn’t able to totally accept that.”

Pascal had actually shot a TV pilot with Jenkins that wasn’t picked up, made right before his life-changing run on “Game of Thrones” aired. “I got to work with Patty for three days or something and then thought I’d never see her again,” he says. “I didn’t even know she remembered me from that.”

She did. “I worked with him, so I knew him,” she says. “I didn’t need him to prove anything for me. I just loved the idea of him, and I thought he would be kind of unexpected, because he doesn’t scream ‘villain.'”

In Jenkins’ vision, Max Lord — a longstanding DC Comics rogue who shares a particularly tangled history with Wonder Woman — is a slick, self-styled tycoon with a knack for manipulation and an undercurrent of genuine pathos. It was the kind of larger-than-life character Pascal had never been asked to tackle before, so he did something equally unorthodox: He transformed his script into a kind of pop-art scrapbook, filled with blown-up photocopies of Max Lord from the comic books that Pascal then manipulated through his lens on the character.

Even the few pages Pascal flashes to me over Zoom are quite revealing. One, featuring Max sporting a power suit and a smarmy grin, has several burned-out holes, including through the character’s eye. Another page features Max surrounded by text bubbles into which Pascal has written, over and over and over again in itty-bitty lettering, “You are a f—ing piece of s—.”

“I felt like I had wake myself up again in a big way,” he says. “This was just a practical way of, like, instead of going home tired and putting Netflix on, [I would] actually deal with this physical thing, doodle and think about it and run it.”

Jenkins is so bullish on Pascal’s performance that she thinks it could explode his career in the same way her 2003 film “Monster” forever changed how the industry saw Charlize Theron. “I would never cast him as just the stoic, quiet guy,” Jenkins says. “I almost think he’s unrecognizable from ‘Narcos’ to ‘Wonder Woman.’ Wouldn’t even know that was the same guy. But I think that may change.”

When people can see “Wonder Woman 1984” remains caught in the chaos the pandemic has wreaked on the industry; both Pascal and Jenkins are hopeful the Dec. 25 release date will stick, but neither is terribly sure it will. Perhaps it’s because of that uncertainty, perhaps it’s because he’s spent his life on the outside of a dream he’s now suddenly living, but Pascal does not share Jenkins’ optimism that his experience making “Wonder Woman 1984” will open doors to more opportunities like it.

“It will never happen again,” Pascal says, once more in that incredulous whisper. “It felt so special.”

After all he’s done in a few short years, why wouldn’t Pascal think more roles like this are on his horizon?

“I don’t know!” he finally says with a playful — and pointed — howl. “I’m protecting myself psychologically! It’s just all too good to be true! How dare I!”