#his hair looks so nice. the apron and rolled sleeves. they really Get Me okay

[baalzebufo]

foil photoset. no reason i just think he is cute :)

[colderdrafts]

15: New Plan

The Great Assembly, gender neutral reader x monster (male naga). Sfw. Previous Next

You type in the number and dial.

It's stupid. It's so stupid you're doing this but you can't think of what else to do. It's the middle of the night, your heart is racing and you swore you saw an all too familiar long-limbed silhouette moving through the streets outside. It's been months, you KNOW it's nothing.

But your trembling body doesn't.

"..Bwu-huh?" comes Irwin's voice through the phone, groggy with sleep.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry to wake you, just-"

"Hold on. Are you alright?" he asks, immediately perking up and on high alert. You hear the sound of fabric rustling through the phone, presumably as he sits up.

"Yes - no," you sigh through your nose, trying to calm your breathing. "I know it's dumb but-"

"It's not dumb, buddy," Irwin says gently. "Nightmares again? Wanna tell me about it? Should I come get you?"

There he goes again, a never-ending foundation of support and patience. Unfortunately, he's very good at it.

That's why you called him, after all.

"No," you mutter, taking a deep breath. "No, it's alright. Could you just.. talk for a bit?"

"My specialty," he announces with flair, attempting to lighten the mood. "You got it."

Irwin spends the next few minutes going over his day, including a nice conversation with his father, delicious tuna sandwiches and a very cute dog he got to pet. It's so terribly mundane to just have him gently chatting that it soothes any worry you had.

How could you be in trouble when everything is, at this point, so very perfectly normal?

You can feel your heart settling a little and your breathing evening out bit by bit as you listen to his tale.

"- and that's why I'm not allowed inside the company kitchen," Irwin finishes with a snort. He pauses. "Are you okay?"

"Better now. Thanks," you sigh, glancing out your window at the emptiness of the city streets at night. Nothing is there, and nothing had been there. "It's just my paranoia acting up again, nothing's happening, don't worry. I don't even know why I called you. I'm sorry."

"Hey it's chill. I'm glad you did! If I can't bore you to sleep with my amazingly interesting every-day bull, how else are you gonna have energy to finish my excel sheet for me tomorrow?" he chuckles.

You scoff in feign indignation. "I have never agreed to such a thing."

"Not yet you haven't! Pinky promise, it's a fun one this time. Lots of numbers and unsorted names on lists and stuff. Right up your alley."

"I can't believe you're using my late night paranoia as an excuse to get out of work," you laugh.

"Hey, if I can distract your brain with my terrible coworker manners I might as well. It's working, isn't it?"

Damn him, it is. "Thank you Irwin."

"Anytime!"

It's a rough night where sleep comes and goes, and you keep hearing the bone chilling cheeriness of Mira's voice on repeat in your mind. The new feeling of responsibility for this situation cast upon you has not done well to soothe any agitated strains coursing through your body.

You hear Elise get up around 7am and start mulling about downstairs. You're not getting any sleep anyway, so you decide to join her in the kitchen.

"You look like someone smashed you with a hammer," she comments as a greeting when you poke your head through the doorway to see what she's doing.

She's downed a flowery apron, rolled up her sleeves and her tough hair pulled back in a ponytail. The kitchen counter is covered in baking ingredients and flour. Looks like she's preparing some batter.

"Good morning to you too," you grumble at her, entering the room fully. "Smells good in here."

She smiles and you hear her sniff the air briefly. "Well it did. Mr. Grumpy kept you up last night?"

You groan in exasperation. "It's that bad? I just gave him a hug!"

"Then you've done him a solid," Elise chuckles, and returns her attention to the batter in front of her.

You settle against the kitchen counter. "Did you sleep alright?"

Elise nods. "Like a brick. Been a while since I've had time to just unwind for a bit like this. It's nice," she looks at you. "Well. Horrible circumstances saying that I can, but. You know what I mean."

"Yeah. I guess with everything going on work isn't really a top priority anymore. I don't dislike my job, but now I feel sorta bad for wishing for some excitement."

"Well, careful what you wish for as fae say."

You look around the kitchen and take in the rustic charm. Something as simple as watching Elise preparing a batter - for bread, seems like - it's a nice break from the horrors that'd plagued you all night to be a part of something so ordinary.

"I wouldn't have taken you for the type to be into baking," you note, watching her expertly fold the dough.

"Gotta put these guns to use somehow," Elise flexes her impressively muscular right arm momentarily and grins. "Ya’know, since I'm currently not wrangling shady folks intruding on company property and all. Wanna join? I still need to roll them out."

You roll up your sleeves. "So you have a brother who likes to sleep on concrete?" you ask to fill the silence as you get to work.

"Yep. When he's not crashing here, he works in ocean research-mumbo-jumbo so he's out sailing a lot,” she replies. “He's a smart lad, always chatting my ear off about the newest deep-sea discovery. I don't get half of it, but he seems happy."

"Sounds like an interesting job," you nod. You glance at her. "There's something else, actually."

"Hmm?"

"I uh, I heard you talking the other night. You really don't have to feel guilty, you know?"

She pauses, not looking at you. Seems she’s not too keen on turning the conversation in this direction, but she responds regardless. "Heard that, huh? Look, I know. It's just - I grew fond of the little rascal pretty quick, and he was with me when he got snatched. It's hard not to is all."

You focus on rolling out a bun. "I get it. Just - I thought you should know."

She nods.

"And another thing - Thanks for letting me stay here. Or well, both of us stay here. You didn't have to do that."

"'Course, can't have anything happening to the other hum that barreled into my life," she snickers, gently bumping your shoulder. "'sides, I kind of see myself as a nanny of sorts. Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on you and Amren.”

"Nanny?” you chuckle. “We’re all adults here, is that really necessary?"

Elise dumps a bun on the counter with a dull splat, and flicks some flour at your face playfully. "Gotta make sure you don't do anything brash, and that the grumpy idiot doesn't destroy whatever little connection you two have when trying to stop you."

You wipe the flour of your face. "Connection? What do you mean?"

"Look. That useless slab of rocks is never going to tell you this himself, so I will," she says. "He obviously cares about you. I've known that stubborn snake for years and trust me. He does not go out of his way, ever. But he does for you. So whatever the hell you did to him, keep doing it,” she grins. “If anything, as a favor to me. Unfortunately I care about that dumbass, and you bet your lil' hum behind I'm going to make that your problem."

Your problem? Is it one?

You don’t exactly know what you've 'done' to said dumbass, it certainly didn't seem like much has changed in his point of view, other than an odd need to keep an eye on you and his awkward attempts at being supportive. Perhaps those small gestures means more than you think. Elise has known Amren longer than you have, so supposedly you’ll have to take her word for it.

“I don’t really know what to say to that,” you admit.

She shakes her head. “You don’t have to say anything. Just keep on truckin’ and you’ll be fine.”

A little later the buns have been set to prove, and you've settled at the kitchen table, chatting back and forth. Elise is very easy to talk to, her rough-and-gruff perspective on things makes you laugh more than once.

She shares some stories of her and her brother's upbringing in the city, and how their parents used to take them sailing. She asks you gently on how you’re doing with all of this, and you try your best to share a little of your troubles and the gnawing worry in your heart.

You reassure her though that staying here has been good for you so far.

"I don't know what I would've done sitting alone in my apartment. I think paranoia would get the best of me,” you finish.

"That's pretty reasonable all things considered. Don't worry, it gets lonely here too when my brother's away. I'm happy to have company,” she smiles. Then she frowns. “Even if it means dealing with you."

Her sudden shift in tone makes you look up in confusion but Elise is looking behind you. You turn and watch Amren slithering into the kitchen, looking as happy as a rotten prune.

"Still not a morning person, huh?" you comment.

"Morning sunshine~" Elise sings.

Amren grumbles something under his breath and goes to set a kettle on. "Tiny decided to pick up a call from a certain coyote last night," he says to Elise. "After spending an hour trying to break into Irwin's phone. Keeping me up."

"Snitch," you scold him.

He flicks his tongue at you.

Elise turns to you, clacking her tusks and instantly on guard, as you knew she would be. "You talked to her?!"

You explain briefly the interaction you had, to which she listens intently.

"What did Irwin say?" she asks when you’re done.

Amren hands both of you a warm mug of coffee and settles next to you.

"I have no idea," you mutter, defeated, and pause to take a sip. "Something about me 'starting the company'? Why on Earth 2.0 would he-"

"At," Amren adds, interrupting you. "Starting at the company."

Realization hits you and you spot the same look in Amren's eyes.

"Tiny, when was your starting date at the company?" he asks.

"I don't - sometime March? I guess?"

"Hold on," Amren hands you his mug and leaves your side to deftly slither up the stairs, leaving you and Elise hanging in the kitchen. Moments later he returns with his laptop, sets it on the table and turns it on.

You watch him fiddle with it in silence, eyes scanning the page with brows furrowed in concentration.

"March 3rd," he announces, looking up at you. "You started working there a March 3rd."

You pick up Irwin's phone and type in the date.

It unlocks.

"He set the code for the day I - oh," you feel a sting in the corner of your eyes.

That must be one of the sweetest things Irwin’s ever done, and probably why he'd been adamant about you not knowing about it, unless his life literally depended on it. And he managed to pass it on to you without raising suspicion. That clever little trickster.

"He's very fond of you, isn't he?" Amren mutters, closing his laptop.

"Seems so," you laugh sadly. "And, thank you. How did you even -?"

"Security detail. Contains logs on all employees," he replies. "Part of the job is keeping tabs on everyone."

"Creepy.." Elise notes from the kitchen counter with a sly grin.

"You've got them too!" Amren hisses defensively.

"I don't use them!"

"You should!"

You tune out their bickering on correct methods of security-performance and focus on the now unlocked phone. You haven’t actually planned for what to do once you got in. Now that it’s happened, you find yourself at an impasse.

Is snooping allowed at this point? It feels so invasive. Irwin is notoriously online, his phone basically contains his entire personality. What if you find something private he doesn't want you to see?

And what exactly do you hope to gain from looking? As far as you know, Irwin was as random a target as you. Why should his phone hold any answers to why he was taken?

And more importantly, why should it hold answers of where he was taken to?

But if Mira deliberately dropped it for you to find, and that odd phone call.. the uncanny feeling you got that you had to keep it – Irwin’s subtle clue so you could unlock it - it's just tugging at your mind. It might be a false sense of hope, but you firmly hold on to it. These things can't be coincidental. There must be something.

Irwin will forgive you for this transgression, surely.

You runs your eyes over the screen.

He has a bunch of social media apps, a few cutesy phone games and a messaging app full of unread messages. He also has a dating app installed, with an equal amount of unread messages. Browsing through the missed calls, you see a lot from you, obviously, but also from his father, some people whose names you recognize as his other friends, and a person named Marcus. The most recent however are four missed calls and one accepted from an unknown caller, which you assume must all be from Mira.

"Anything of interest?" Elise asks, efficiently halting her argument with Amren.

"A bunch of missed calls from me, his dad, Mira and a Marcus. I don't know of any Marcus in Irwin's life. And then a whole heap of unread texts."

Amren leans over you shoulder to take a look at the phone. "Are there any texts from this Marcus? Maybe they can give us a clue," he suggests.

You scroll through the messaging app, and, sure enough, there are a couple of texts from him.

It's a back and forth on meeting times, and not much else. The last message from Irwin was just before the conference, informing Marcus Irwin will be gone for the conference from that day on, and Marcus replying with a thumbs up. The latest message from Marcus was from yesterday.

"You're back, right? When are you available?"

"This doesn't help us much.." Amren muses. "What are they meeting about?"

"I have a guess," Elise shrugs nonchalantly. "They're probably just hooking up."

You and Amren simultaneously look up to give her a weird look, which she waves off.

"Oh come on, no conversation points, no relationship development whatsoever, and we've all seen first hand that our hum friend cannot hold an inkling of alcohol to save his life, most likely not drugs either? What else would it be?"

What else indeed. It wouldn't be unheard off that Irwin would be blowing off some steam in his spare time and not tell you about it - it is, frankly, absolutely none of your business. Amren would be proud of you for thinking so.

"Well, that's his business. I don't really want to pry more if that's the case," you say, and consider for a moment. "But what if that's not the case? If there's any chance this Marcus fellow might know something, wouldn't it be better to cover all bases to figure this out? I mean, Irwin wouldn't shout his code at me if he didn't want me to find something here. And I don't really see anything else sticking out."

Amren hums in consideration. "While I'm hesitant to head into uncharted territory, that might actually be true," he says. "And he clearly isn't aware Irwin is missing. This might be an opportunity to get some answers."

You mull it over. "Let's say I meet with him. What do I even say? Hello, I'm the coworker of that guy you're frequently.. seeing?"

Elise snorts. "Good ice breaker! But maybe follow it up with a very good reason for why you're the one there instead of Irwin."

"They're not meeting with him alone," Amren comments firmly.

"'Course not, you big grump. We'll be waiting close by."

You look at both of them. "Thank you. Really, we didn't even know each other barely two weeks ago."

"And now we do. Get over it," Elise ruffles your hair.

You sit and discuss a plan for how to approach Marcus, and you do your best impersonation of Irwin when you write a reply to meet up this evening. Marcus replies with a thumbs up.

[the-late-one]

A little domestic thing I wrote happening in the ineffable cottage

*

"Angel, can I ask you a question ?"

"Well be careful with that."

Aziraphale gave Crowley a playful smile, but really ? Was this joke necessary ? Crowley admired the boldness though.

"Sorry." Aziraphale wiped his hands on his apron, resuming to whatever he was doing in the kitchen before Crowley entered. "Yes my dear, anything."

Crowley walked to the table behind the angel to sit on the corner of it, taking off his glasses then crossing his arms and looking around. A strong cinnamon smell tickled his nose. "Do you find me attractive ?"

Azirapahale stopped batting the brown dough he was mauling for a second, looking briefly above his shoulder "What do you mean ?"

"I just wanna know." Crowley mumbled, suddenly uncertain if he wanted an answer.

Aziraphale didn’t give him any, returning to his task. 

"Like, when you look at me, do you think I'm se- beautiful ?" Asked Crowley once again, flying his hand around, voice breaking a little with nervousness.

Aziraphale let his shoulder relax and sighed loudly, finally turning to Crowley, grabbing his bowl in hand. "Oh you met the girls again, didn’t you ?"

Crowley tried his best to look casual, and not absolutely distracted by the rolled up sleeves of his partner's shirt.

"I didn't." He shook his head, averting his eyes.

"It's perfectly all right for you to make human friends you know." Aziraphale put his bowl back on the counter. "We never talked about cutting ties with humans."

"Okay, yes. I met the girls. Again. Janine said my hips looked sexy in these pants, just like his Henry's, and that you were lucky."

Aziraphale shrugged, licking clean the spatula he just used, "Janine compares you to her late husband all the time, why does it bother you now ?"

Crowley stood silent a moment, fingers dancing on the edge of the table, before saying with clenched jaws, "It was what I said after."

"What did you say ? Something polite I hope." Said the angel, searching for one of his pastry device across the room.

Crowley stared at Aziraphale, following him with his yellow irises, "So she can call me sexy but I have to stay polite ? Anyway, I said that-... I said that I don’t think you care."

Aziraphale turned to Crowley,"About your likeness with Henry ?"

"No you idiot, about my sexy hips !"

"Oh…"

Crowley pointed at him, stepping away from the table, "See. You don't, I was right." 

That hurt more than he was ready for.

"I didn't say that." 

"Forget it."

Crowley went for the door before stopping, hands on his apparently not sexy enough hips.

"Crowley-" Aziraphale called softly.

"I do, you know. Find you– cute. Attractive. Whatever you call that."

Aziraphale's eyes doubled in size, "You… do ?"

"Yes." Crowley walked back towards his partner. At this point he had nothing to lose, and they agreed to be more open to communication anyway.

"I mean I like– the way you look. I like your fluffy hair, makes me think of a duckling."

Aziraphale raised a hand to his hair, visibly self-conscious. Crowley went on :

"I like when you– smile, when I bring you cocoa in the bedroom on sunday mornings, moments like this." He approached closer, getting more and more flustered, "I like that you're soft in all the good places, it's nice when you hug me. I like– I don't know it's… an all, really."

Aziraphale took a look at himself, then found Crowley’s eyes, a shy smile growing on his lips, "Really ?"

"Yes. Well, you could do better on the-" Crowley gestured at the angel, "Outfits but… Yeah. I just– You never told me if it was the same for you."

"You never told me that neither !" Retorted Aziraphale, "But… You know, attraction is lead by hormones, and we do not have those, so I didn’t know if I could say that I find you attractive."

Crowley lowered his face, finally getting an answer, but secretly not the one he was waiting for.

"So you don't. All right."

He turned on his feet to leave the room, hiding his disappointment, when Aziraphale grabbed him by the wrist.

"Crowley, you silly old serpent." He pulled him close, almost so their bodies were against each other. "Thousands of years ago, I met an angel who created stars, and galaxies in front of me, and it was one of the most beautiful spectacle to ever happen, but I barely remember it. Do you know why ?"

Crowley didn't answer, melting from standing into the warm embrace Aziraphale trapped him in. 

"Because right next to me was standing the most beautiful creature of the creation, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from it."

The demon blinked once, then crossed his eyebrows.

"...You mean I was beautiful when I was an angel ?"

Aziraphale sighed, "No. You still are, and I could still spend the eternity staring at you, just like right now."

Finally, Crowley came to the realisation, "Oh. So…"

"Although, some things have changed a little." Aziraphale interrupted, taking a brief step back to look at the demon properly.

"Yeah… A lot even."

"But you know what ? It's even better. Because Janine is right."

And oh my someone, are those angelic hands on Crowley’s butt ? 

"Ngk !"

"You look sexier as a demon." Aziraphale whispered, touching Crowley's nose with his before releasing him and returning to his baking.

"Any other question dear ?"

Crowley carded his curls with a hand before clearing his throat.

"No."

"All right then. You can go tell her that I am, in fact, very lucky."

The demon looked at the door behind him, then at his love.

"I-I think I will stay here a little." He stuttered, approaching Aziraphale from behind before resting his weight on him, circling the soft at the right place corporation with his arms.

Aziraphale kissed the snake tattoo on his temple, before starting to hum happily. 

I love you

Crowley kissed the back of his neck, resting his chin there, nested in his favourite place of the universe.

I love you too

[driftingknight]

1/6 Picture: Top Left.

"For you."

"L-Loid!"

She looked down at the red petals he presented from behind his back. She could feel her heart warm and a smile grow on her face.

"...Thank you." She held it preciously, admiring it.

This was happening more often recently. At first, it took her by surprise and she didn't know what to do about these gestures. But Loid reassured her that they were acts of appreciation to her, and that he wanted to recognize the hard work and effort she put into being his wife and Anya's mother. He reassured her strongly without being able to meet her eyes, stumbling on his words slightly along the way.

"You're most welcome." He smiled smoothly, putting his umbrella away, "Where's Anya? Shouldn't she be off from school by now?"

"She asked to go to a friend's house after school. she said she'll be eating dinner there, then they'll be driving her back." Yor searched for a suitable vase and set the rose on the counter.

"Oh..." He smoothed his hair back, thinking. "Then... would you like to continue our cooking lesson from before? With Anya away, you'll feel less pressure and we'll have more time."

"W-would that be alright with you? I appreciate the offer, but you just got off work.."

"Of course. You've been making great progress, as your teacher I'm happy to see the results you're producing." He started rolling up his sleeves, "Are you hungry? Should we start now or later?"

She beamed, "Now would work! I'll go get our aprons."

"Sure. Let me wash my hands and we can see what we've got in the fridge."

He hummed as he mentally flipped through recipes.

Some hand-over-hand teaching, light screaming, and gentle reassurances later, the both sat down to enjoy their dinner. After some light talk, Yor cleaned the table and Loid started washing the dishes.

"...Yor."

"Yes?"

"Would you like to-" The phone rang.

"Hello? ... Are you sure?... I'm so sorry for the incon-... really?... Yes, of course. ... Thank you, until tomorrow then." Putting the phone away, Yor sighed.

"Everything alright?"

"Yes... Anya and her friend somehow ended up following the friend's father onto a cruise ship, so the butler asked if we would be okay with her staying there for the weekend. "

"...Sounds like Anya."

She smiled, "It most certainly does, doesn't it? Oh, what were you saying before?"

Loid paused for a second in h is dish-washing, but only for a second, "I was wondering, seeing that we had all the necessary items in our fridge, if we should have a picnic tomorrow. The weather's supposed to be nice for once, so I thought we might take the opportunity."

"A picnic!" Yor clapped her hands together, "That's a wonderful idea!"

"R-really?" Loid smiled, but it faltered, "But with Anya staying over at her friends... I'd understand if you would want to wait for her."

"I..." Glancing at the rose, she fiddled with her hands behind her back, "I think it'd be nice...and like you said, it'd be a nice chance to finally get outside after all this wet weather."

Loid had been rubbing the same spot on the plate, "Alright, then it's settled. Let's leave early afternoon tomorrow to find a nice spot."

Both went to bed that night hoping the sun would rise a little faster.

Part 2/6 Picture: Top Right to be written.

Eyyy, I scanned and touched up some Twiyor sketches I had lying around. Starting off this year right! :D

[getosgf]

Attractive things they do

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Fandom: jujutsu kaisen

Characters: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, sukuna, toji fushiguro

Things I headcanon they do that are hot

Tw: suggestive content

An: I’m having so much jjk brainrot, enjoy this piece of garbage💀

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Gojo Satoru

Likes to kiss you when you least expect it

Like you’ll be talking on the phone with your mom and he just *mwa* on the lips gives you hickeys

Teases you non.stop.

Calls you pet names in private and in public that he knows make you blush, he dgaf if others can hear it or find it weird

Always leans closer or tilts his head in your direction when you talk to him

Says it’s because he can’t hear you but that’s a fucking lie, he likes the way you get a little flustered because of it

When you’re sitting on the couch, his arm always rests on the back of the couch, behind your neck

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Geto Suguru

THAT DEEP, HUSKY MORNING VOICE AWOOGA

He already has such a nice and satisfying voice on a daily basis, but imagine it when he just wakes up from a peaceful slumber😩😩

His sweats always hang just a little under his hips, leaving a bit of skin visible

Smacks your butt whenever he gets the chance and winks at you after impact yes that’s hot to me stfu

Pulls your hair behind your ears or ties it in a pony tail (if you have long hair) when it gets in the way

Eye contact.

Like he just stares at you for prolonged periods of time

Always wears a smile or a sort of grin on his face when staring

Not to tease you or anything, but just because looking at you makes him smile :)

Hums and moans softly when you play with his long, luscious locks

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Nanami Kento

Puts his hand on your waist or back

Like when you’re in the way, he’ll hold you by your waist while passing through SOMEONE DO THIS TO ME PLS

Also whispers “excuse me” in your ear in a really low voice so only you can hear it

Instinctively guides you through busy crowds by putting his hand on the small of your back, to keep you in sight

He cooks and bakes. That’s it, that’s the hottest thing this man can do.

No but seriously, imagine Nanami in an APRON!!!

Or like when he’s mixing all the ingredients in a bowl, he has his sleeves rolled up and those arm muscles are activated and clearly visible HELLO SAILOR

When driving, definitely puts his hand on the back of your seat as he looks back while going in reverse ⭕️💢⭕️💢

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Sukuna

This mf

When you’re having a conversation, he randomly holds your chin between his fingers and makes you look up at him

Does this because he knows it makes you a flustered mess

Just likes to make you feel small and helpless

Listen, he’s mean so in short, expect a lot of degrading and yes it’s hot coming from sukuna

Walks around shirtless most of the time

Talks passionately about his opinions and beliefs they may be a little controversial but it’s okay because again, it’s sukuna

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Toji Fushiguro

After a shower, he’s never completely dry

He’d have his towel clinging to his hips, wet hair and water droplets spread across his skin

Runs his hands through his hair and flexes his arms ‘accidentally’ in the proces he totally knows what he’s doing

Lots of licking his lips.

You’re telling him a funny story about what happened today and he just starts licking his lips excessively

You’re just standing there like🧍‍♀️

Hugs you from behind and whispers dirty things in your ear 😏

When he reaches for something high up on a shelf or whatever, his shirt lifts a bit and you can see his abs and his lil happy trail and omfg

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[ykwrites]

Friendship- Osamu x reader

Pairing: Osamu x reader

Warnings: NONE

Rating:SFW

MASTERLIST

‘‘So, what´s with you and my brother?’‘Atsumu asked in a failed whisper. 

Upon hearing that question, you breathed deep and ignored it, concentrated on fixing a white bandage around his left wrist, he had injured himself in last weeks practice. 

Your reasoning for not giving a response, was the constant push and insistence about this topic. Atsumu and his brother were really good friends of yours, that´s it. 

However, Atsumu was obsessed with dumb details he claimed were proof of an undying love and attraction between you and Osamu. 

‘‘Pass me the tape’‘you calmly pointed at the ivory roll of tape placed on his nightstand.

‘‘Okay, boss’‘he mocked, handing you the item with a smug smile ‘‘Osamu is coming for dinner, by the way’‘

‘‘And?’‘

‘‘Just thought you might want to know’‘

‘‘He lives here, I expected that would be the case’‘

‘‘I told him you were coming too and he said he will cook your favorite’‘

‘‘That´s nice of him’‘

It was funny to watch, because Atsumu enjoyed such simple things like they were new. Osamu cooked for you constantly, but it was the normal thing to do, you also did other things for him to show you cared. 

That day you were over at their apartment to help Atsumu do some things while his brother was running errands for his restaurant and they already invited you to stay the night. 

8pm rolled around and you sat on the couch next to your friend watching tv when the sound of the door made you look to see Osamu walk in with his hands full of bags. 

‘‘Hello, Samu, how was your day?’‘you greeted, getting up to help him. 

‘‘Hi’‘he said with a bright smile on his face ‘‘It was boring but fine’‘

‘‘You bought the whole grocery store?’‘

Osamu followed you to the kitchen and placed all the bags on the counter, breathing and stretching his muscles after. 

‘‘There´s nothing in that fridge, and since Atsumu is injured now I have to do it alone’‘

‘‘You should’ve called me’‘

‘‘You’re already doing enough by putting up with mr annoying’‘

‘‘I can hear you!’‘Atsumu yelled from the living room. 

Both of you laughed and put away the groceries while talking, his company was comforting as always, coming from him even the meaningless things were interesting.

After everything was in its place, Osamu pointed at one of the stools in front of the kitchen island, and you obligued knowing that meant you could observe and keep him company but he liked cooking alone.

It was entertaining to see such skills playing out in front of you, chopping vegetables like a genious and doing a million things at once without losing track of the conversation you had. 

He looked handsome with hair back, his apron on and the long sleeves of his sweater folded up neatly, letting thick veins be on display like a beautiful painting from his forearm all the way down his hands. Always the nice and calmer brother, with a soothing energy towards you, the one who made sure you were comfortable at all times. 

‘‘Before you say anything’‘Atsumu’s voice echoed behind you ‘’I am not here to get in your precious kitchen’’ 

Osamu always kicked him out, so it was understandable. 

‘‘What do you want?’‘Osamu asked, focused on stirring a sauce of some sort. 

‘‘The bandage got loose’‘he explained, putting his arm practically in your face. 

‘‘Okay’‘you laughed, carefully holding his wrist ‘‘you don´t need to fuse it with my face for me to see it’‘

‘‘Help’‘sulking, he took the roll of medical tape out of his pocket and gave it to you.

‘‘Don’t act like you are dying’‘his brother nagged ‘‘You take advantage of her’‘

‘‘I don´t!, I´m hurt, just let me babied for once!’‘

While they argued, you bandaged Atsumu´s wrist again, laughing at his comment because everyone knew he always wanted to be babied. 

‘‘Dramatic’‘

‘‘I get it, you don´t love me’‘

‘‘Oh my, you are so annoying’‘

‘‘Stop’‘ you interrupted their antics ‘‘I don´t mind helping you, Tsumu, but don´t pretend this is new, you always want to be babied’‘

‘‘More like he demands it’‘huffing, the cook pointed out. 

‘‘It’s okay, come here’‘extending your arms you gave Atsumu a hug, stroking his head like he was a child ‘‘now leave before your brother stabs you’‘

Atsumu complied, leaving triumphant with an inflated ego. The only reason you hugged him was to make him leave without arguing further. 

‘‘You know’‘Osamu cleared his throat ‘‘He is an adult and the fact that he acts like this makes me think he´s crazy’‘

‘‘And you know I let him be like that so he stops being dramatic faster’‘

‘‘He only does that with you’‘

‘‘I believe it´s just to decompress, because he´s so comfortable around us he doesn’t have to be a responsible professional athlete all the time and can fool around’’

‘‘As long as it doesn´t bother you’‘

‘‘I don´t really care’‘you shrugged.

Osamu grew silent for a moment, not really reacting to what you said and focusing on cooking. 

You knew what this meant coming from him, frustration, because he thought Atsumu was too overbearing and clingy sometimes, and you didn´t stop him or set boundaries. 

However, for you it was very natural to give in and shower them in attention if that´s what they needed, both the brothers were with you through every good and bad experience for the last three years. 

Two weeks after meeting them, you broke your left leg and they spent most of the day with you, making sure you were okay. They cooked and cleaned, never asking for anything in return.

‘‘Atsumu!’‘Osamu yelled, interrupting your internal monologue. 

‘‘What?’‘his brother responded. 

‘‘Go to the convenience store and bring something to drink, we’ll set up the table’’

‘‘Okay!’‘

Before you could offer to do it yourself, the front door closed, indicating Atsumu practically ran outside. 

‘‘I´ll take the chopsticks and napkins, okay?’‘you said, walking next to Osamu and getting everything you needed. 

‘‘Okay’‘ 

His response sounded dry, he was either mad or distracted, but you thought it would be best not to ask. 

Ten minutes after, all the food was neatly placed on the table and Atsumu barged in with drinks, sitting right next to you. 

‘‘Have you been careful with your wrist?’‘you asked patting his shoulder. 

‘‘Yeah’‘

‘‘Doing something for once won´t kill him’‘

You quickly looked up at Osamu, frowning and confused, of course you understood he got frustrated but this sudden change of demeanor and rudeness wasn´t normal. 

‘‘Damn, this food is good’‘Atsumu said, mouth full and holding your hand under the table as to stop you from responding. 

Deciding to take his silent advice, you started eating and thanking Osamu for the food instead, receiving a quiet ‘’I´m glad’’ as a response. 

For the first time since you met them, dinner was awkward, and poor Atsumu tried so hard to speak, bringing up random topics with no success. 

After what felt like an hour long uncomfortable meal, Osamu excused himself to go to bed. 

‘‘Tsumu’‘you said while doing the dishes, he stood to your right drying them.

‘‘I have no idea why he´s acting this way’‘

As always your friend read your mind. 

‘‘I think he´s mad at me’‘this sentence made you realize that this scenario hurt you a bit too much.

‘‘He can´t get mad at you’‘

‘‘I feel so bad, this is the first time he gets distant’‘ 

‘‘Wait until tomorrow, let him cool off’‘

Maybe you were overreacting and it wasn’t that deep, anyway you had no idea what went through his mind and there were other possibilities other than him being mad at you.

Before going to sleep, Atsumu reminded you not to overthink and gave you a tiny goodnight hug.

Laying in bed, the same thoughts flooded your judgment. You couldn’t let it go that easy, because in three years this was the first time Osamu acted cold towards you. Usually if something bothered him, he would come and talk about it to resolve the issue immediately. He always said that being mad at someone you appreciate isn’t worth it and hurts both people.

Trying to entertain yourself you took your phone and scrolled through instagram for about an hour until you got bored.

Unfortunately you were not sleepy, so quietly you got up and headed to the kitchen to get some water and one of those homeophatic pills Atsumu took to help him sleep even though they never did anything for you.

“Can’t sleep?”a low voice made you jump back almost making you drop the glass.

You turned around, Osamu.

“You scared the shit out of me”you said “yeah, I have too much going on in my head”

“Same”he huffed, sitting in the same stool you used earlier that night.

Instead of cold, he now sounded tired and defeated, wich definitely made you worry more.

“Want some?”you pointed at the box of pills.

“No, thank you”

Keeping quiet, you nodded and took one yourself, leaving the glass on the counter and heading out of the kitchen to go back to sleep.

You wanted to talk to him, but at the same time feared that he was actually mad at you and you wouldn’t know how to fix it.

Luckily before you crossed the door, a hand on your left wrist stopped you abruptly.

“Y/n, can I ask you something?”

Once again you turned to look at him, his gaze now fixed on yours with a sadness you never imagined would see in his eyes.

“Of course, Samu, are you okay?”immediately you took a step closer to him and carefully placed a loving hand on his shoulder.

“You like my brother, right?”

That question hit you like a ton of bricks, so unexpected to hear.

It was obvious that you didn’t, wasn’t it? How on earth did he come to this realization? Because you cared for Atsumu like you did for him?

“I don’t” that’s literally the only thing you managed to say.

“You can tell me, we are friends after all”like he didn’t believe you, he insisted.

“I told you already, I don’t like Tsumu”you felt the need to reiterate “He isn’t my type anyway”

“Oh, I understand”his eyes glued to the floor.

“That’s why you got mad? Because you thought I liked him and didn’t tell you?”

“Can I ask you another question?”he ignored what you said.

“Sure”

“If Atsumu isn’t your type, does that mean I am not your type either?”

Honestly you had no idea where this was going, but it sure bothered him, so you took a second to think and give him a good response.

Well… they were certainly different, people may throw them in the same box because of the twin factor, but to you they didn’t even look that similar. Osamu was way more attractive.

“I think I’ve told you this before, but you are the attractive twin”

“You say that a lot, but it feels like you are joking”

“Well, I’m not” you insisted “Samu, tell me what’s going on”

He took a deep breath, composed himself and dropped a huge bomb.

“I love you”

This wasn’t the first time he told you that, not at all, but this time, this time was different. He said it blushing, looking scared and serious.

He said it like he meant it in a way that didn’t indicate friendship.

“Well”he stood up, fixing his clothes nervously “I’m going to sleep then”

“No, you stay right here” you stopped him.

Something inside you needed to make things clear right now, because talking might get uncomfortable but it was better than ruining your friendship or making things weird.

“Okay”Osamu responded, surprised at your reaction.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Jeez… this is harder than I expected”he scratched the back of his neck “I liked you for a long time and I realized I was in love with you about a year and a half ago”

Oh god, this kept getting bigger with every word.

“A year and a half?”you asked in disbelief.

“Yeah…”

“Right when Atsumu started saying you and I were secretly in love”

“I mean, I told him I felt like that, but I thought you liked him”

“I don’t like him”

“We literally look the same”

“Are you kidding me? You are smart, nice, gentle, a good cook, give great advice, know how to calm me down, not to mention you are hot as hell” you point out, Osamu’s face growing red hearing those words “Atsumu on the other hand… well, gives good hugs I guess?”

“Didn’t know you thought all that”he gulps, almost stuttering.

“And there’s so much more, but we would be here for days if I start saying how many things I like about you”

“You like me?”with a smug smile, he raised an eyebrow.

Did you?

Holy shit.

You did.

Atsumu was right.

“Can we pretend nothing happened in front of your brother?”you said, thinking about the relentless I told you so that would inevitably appear.

“Nothing happened”

Osamu was now amused at your mental gymnastics and realization that you liked him and he laughed faintly, making you slam your lips with his just to shut him up and at the same time make that something happen. Quickly you got lost in his touch, amazed with how comfortable and warm he made you feel. Hooking your arms around his neck you got closer to him and he wasted no time placing his hands on your waist ever so gently.

“Now respond to my question”you said as soon as your lips parted “can we pretend nothing happened in front of Atsumu? At least for like a week so he doesn’t tease us”

“So you want something to happen more often?”

Again the damn smug smile.

“I take it back, you two are actually the same, both annoying”

“I was kidding”he laughed, placing a hand on your cheek “But I don’t wanna hide anything, if he bothers us I can just punch him”

“No”you nagged playfully “We just have to be subtle with pda”

“I don’t think I can do that, now that I know you like me back you aint getting rid of me”

You didn´t even get time to blink before his lips were on yours again, clearly enjoying the moment and your willingness to return his actions.

Osamu definitely had skills, you could tell he was nervous and he still did everything right, gently caressing your sides and deepening the kiss, your mind going... interesting places. 

Feeling hazy, you stopped the kiss and fixed your eyes on the floor, face burning and most likely painted crimsom red. 

‘‘Are you okay?’’ He asked, placing a sweet hand on your cheek to make you look back at him. 

‘‘Mhm’’you managed to respond with a mere sound, now focused on him. 

‘’The kitchen is pitch black and I can still see your face all red’’a faint laugh resonated  in your ears. 

‘‘You bitch’’

Laughing with him but still embarrassed, you tried getting away from his hold, with absolutely no success. 

‘‘Let me go’’you pouted ‘‘I´m embarrassed’’

‘‘Okay’’Osamu smiled, leaving a gentle peck on your lips and dropping his hands ‘’Let me walk you to your room’’

‘‘I can do that alone, thank you’‘

‘‘The appartment is dark and scary, I have to’‘

Defeated but also amused by him, you complied, walking to the guest room with him following close. 

Obviously your destination was only a few steps away, so you got there in ten seconds and turned around before getting in. 

‘‘I´ll see you tomorrow’’you said in a shy whisper. 

Each minute that passed you realized more and more how attractive this man was and even after kissing him he made you nervous. 

‘‘Have a good night’’he gifted a small smile and quickly walked away to go towards his room.

For some reason, you waited, observing his back like you wanted something to happen but didn´t know exactly what, so naturally your heart raced when he stopped mid way, hesitantly turning around. 

‘‘So, just to make sure’’he spoke and you nodded for him to continue ‘‘you like me’‘

Wasn´t that clear? So damn cute. 

As dumb as it was, this little act he just pulled made you feel less nervous. 

‘‘Yes, I do’‘you responded. 

‘‘Good’‘

For a couple seconds you both stood there in silence, of course your feelings for each other were clear now, but it was like the simple act of liking him was suddenly magnified.

It wasn´t until Osamu opened his door that you snapped out of that dumb haze. 

‘‘No goodnight kiss?’‘your question came out smug, sweet and faking innocence. 

‘‘Please’‘Osamu practically flew to have you pressed against the wall ‘‘You don´t have to ask me twice’‘

Butterflies roamed free in your stomach when he gave you that kiss, desperate and loving, like he was telling you how in love he was without having to speak a single word. 

The next day´s breakfast was interesting, even more so when Atsumu spilled his coffee al over the couch when he saw the both of you getting out of the same room.

[missluckycharms]

You, Me and Harry make three. Part Two.

Summary: Joey, Izzy and Harry are in a poly relationship. They're head over heels for one another and they can't seem to keep their hands off each another, even when they really need to.

Harry is the Harry Styles, the man who is known for being so open and lovable. He's nervous to let the world see his girls, what would his fans think If he was dating two girls at the same time? And they all shared the one bed and home? He doesn't want to know, he wants them all to himself.

This small story follows the three and their rendezvous together behind the scenes.

Masterlist.

Part One.

Warnings: Switch!Harry, Mommy kink, slight Daddy kink, FxFxM threesome, fingering, oral sex f+m receiving, Male + Female penetrative sex, Female + Female sex, spanking, choking, hair pulling, sneaking around (?) masturbation and mentions of it, degradation kink, praise kink, dirty talking, anal play, biting, polyamorous relationship.

A/N: Izzy and Joey are OCs! Their features will be discussed in this, if you don’t want to envision them how I write them, feel free to use your own images of them! I hope you’ve enjoyed them as much as I have! Harry Joey and Izzy are now my new babies, and I will protect them with my whole heart 🥺

Word count: 5.3k.

—

"This place is amazing!"

"If singing on stage gives you this, sign me up for your supporting act H!"

Harry smiles and laughs watching his girls, the pair in awe running about the Italian villa he owns, hidden away amongst shrubbery and gated security, no one only Harry and his team know about this villa, it's a very secret location that Harry has done all he can to not let people find this place. It's not as grand as you would think it would be, a millionaire rockstar having a smallish Italian villa decorated mainly in old vintage Italian furniture, is not something you would hear of very often, most singers would have penthouses with the latest technology and fast cars in the driveway — not Harry, he would take this small secluded villa with a vintage convertible in the driveway over a multi million dollar penthouse with a Lamborghini in the front.

"Recognise the decor?" He asks as they both walk back in, their sunglasses pushed up into their hairs and their summer dresses flowing above their knees, their smiles bright and their arms linked as they look at Harry before them.

"No way! It's the theme we suggested for this place! Look Iz, it's the painting you suggested we buy in the art gallery last time we went to France!"

Joey says tugging Izzys arm and pointing at a large painting on the wall behind the dining table, the silhouette of a woman laying on a sofa with fabric draped over her, the sofa situated on a balcony as the sunset casts down onto her making her dark against the painting, the sunset the main focus as the arch of the balcony door in the golden hues of the sunset seeping in around the room. Harry fell in love with it in the gallery the last time they all took a trip there, Izzy grabbing his hand and pulling him towards where it was being showcased as Joey chatted to the artist about another piece that caught her eye. Harry loved the way Izzy was in awe over this work of art, he knew instantly he needed it somewhere personal and private for them all, he knew this villa he was had being done up would be the perfect place for the painting.

It was all perfect, and Harry loved it.

"I think she looks like Jo, that's why I loved it. See? The curves and the way she's laid out — confident and beautiful, it's our Jo!" Izzy says sweetly, causing Joey to kiss her head and nod for Harry to join them, the three of them all hugging and looking up at the painting, Izzy squished in the middle as Joey and Harry hold onto her with love.

"I think, we should have a wine and pasta night — right way to start our vacation, mmh?" Harry asks kissing the two girls heads, the pair looking at him with all the adoration in the world, his white goggle glasses pushed into his curly hair, his long sleeve white and navy shirt on his torso along with linen white trousers on his legs accompanied by scruffy vans with pink laces on his feet, he looked like art — if they could, they would chose him as the painting for the wall.

"Are you cooking it? Mister pasta chef?" Joey asks teasing him by brushing her nose off his, the pair close to one another as Izzy rests her head on Joey's arm looking at Harry and Joey tease one another with little kisses and lip bites filled with small laughs and breathy moans.

"I'll try my best, how about you two clean up? You both must be worn out and sweaty from our trip here" he says with a wink, kissing the two girls before disappearing off into the kitchen, a near skip in his step as he smiles heading to make dinner for him and his girls.

"I think he was jealous of our bathroom trip" Joey says as Izzy laughs blushing a little, Joey wrapping her arm around her shoulder and kissing her forehead many times as they walk and laugh towards their bedroom, the bathroom awaiting them — much like the bathroom in Harry's private jet did.

As the girls fill up the bathtub, giggles and lavender filled bubbles kissing their skin as they share time together, soft innocent touches and jokes passed back and forth as they washed one another and kissed showing affection amongst many small cuddle sessions that always ended up with Izzy plastering lavender bubbles on Joey's face when she closed her eyes to relax, Joey retaliating with splashing water at Izzy as she fights back, their laughs echoing around the villa as Harry smiles to himself, his music playing not being loud enough to block out their laughs.

The kitchen is dimly lit, candles filled the space as his record player spins an old Fleetwood Mac vinyl of his, the sunset casting a slight hue through the back doors of the villa, the curtains framing the glass doors blowing slightly in the summer breeze of Italy. Harry is humming while stirring the pasta, his body filled with warmth and excitement as he prepares the meal, sauce in a pan while he cooks the pasta, flour on his apron from when he tried to make pasta from scratch from a recipe book he bought the last time he was here alone, this is the first time he's brought his girls here — it's safe to say, he'll never come here alone again, it's meant to be filled with laughs and the smell of pasta cooking while Fleetwood Mac dances around the aroma scented villa, Harry knows he can never come here alone again.

He would never want to come here alone again.

"Is that meatballs I smell?" Izzy says skipping out into the kitchen, her hair damp and Harry's black vintage Pink Floyd on her body, a pair of his boxers on her legs as shorts as she nearly dances into Harrys arms as he holds them out, turning them both so they're facing the stove, his hand stirring the sauce and meatballs with a wooden spoon as Izzy cuddles into him.

"Here, take a taste — we all know you're the meatball connoisseur" Harry laughs, holding up half a meatball covered in tomato sauce filled with herbs and spices he found. She leans forward and wraps her lips around the end of the spoon, her tongue lapping up all the sauce along with the meat as she pulls away looking at him with furrowed brows as she tastes it, swishing it about and gathering up all the flavours he's added in.

"Good?" He asks nervously, her silence deafening as she smiles, leaning over to lick the remainders off the spoon while holding eye contact with him.

"Your sauce always tastes nice, H" she says kissing his neck, holding eye contact with him as she spins around and heads back towards the bedroom, his mouth slightly open as he watches her leave, her small frame disappearing as he gulps while turning his attention back to the food.

"How's our boy getting on?" Joey asks brushing through her hair, Izzy watching her in awe sitting behind her on the bed, Joey's eyes on her in the mirror as she sits at the vanity smiling at her.

"Dancing to Stevie and making dinner, he's okay" she giggles as Joey smiles, leaving down her hairbrush and joining Izzy on their bed, another one of Harry's t shirts on her body also, a white Rolling Stones t shirt, small holes in the neck and hem of the shirt from how long Harry has owned it and wore it. Harry is obsessed with seeing them in his clothes, always telling them to wear his shirts around the house when they're all alone — he loves seeing them wrapped in his things, claiming them as his and only his.

"We should feel bad for letting him cook alone" Joey says leaning over Izzy, straddling her waist as her chin knocks against their forehead gently to signal for her to lay down, her brown damp hair fanning around her head as Joey rests above her, smiling down softly at her as they bask in one another's presence in the warm golden hue of the lamps on the bed side tables.

"He insisted, he loves to cook" Izzy says sighing when Joey connects their lips, Izzys hands coming up to cup her face as Joey holds onto her thigh with one hand and cradling her head with the other, her nails scratching at her scalp as Izzys thighs lock around Joey's waist and holding her against her more as they kiss slowly and passionately, the pair smiling and worshiping one another as they listen to Harry softy sing in the kitchen cooking them all dinner.

They're all in bliss, their safe haven being their only escape from the world and the only time they can all be alone and show one another how much they care for each other. Sure they have their alone times in hotel rooms and back stage, but it's nothing like being locked away in a villa in a country that isn't demanding Harry to be on talk shows and random small interviews here and there, it's a place where they can just relax and not care about the beady eyes of the public and Jeff banging down the doors demanding Harry being at a certain place. This is the second vacation all three have spend together, the first being in Spain and now they're here, they've all preferred secluded small villas to grand luxurious hotel suites looking over the whole City of Venice.

The small villa with two gardens filled with flowers, trees and a small patch where Harry said he would one day grow his own vegetables if he gets to stay here that long, he wants to grow his own food to be able to make authentic dishes for his pasta loving girlfriends — this villa is enough for him, and he would never want to have a luxurious life filled with money and expensive clothes and furniture that probably would break if you touched it, Harry doesn't want that — he wants a vintage decorated villa, filled with flowers out front while Stevie sings around the building on vinyl as his girls laugh, almost in tune with every song as he cooks and treats them like he wants to, treat them like his lovers — and one day, like his wives.

"Came to get you two for dinner, but looks like you're getting to dessert without me" Harry says from the doorframe, his body leaned on it as he stands with his flour covered apron, a smile on his lips as the girls pause and look at him, Joey nearly between Izzys thighs as they laugh and blush looking at him.

"Come on, dinners served Madams!" Harry jokes leading them both to where he's set up, the back garden is filled with fairy lights, the bushes and trees decorated in the small lights as the table sits in a small patch of grass amongst all the high bushes and trees, shielding them from any prying eyes that could be near by.

"I think we're underdressed for this" Joey says looking at hers and Izzys current states, the pair only wearing Harrys t shirts and his boxers as shorts, Harry beside them with a stained apron and his clothes from this morning when they flew over.

"Who says? Tonight, I actually decided the theme is half naked and drunk on Italian wine" he shrugs leading them to their chairs, the girls smiling and laughing as the places one kiss to their lips each, their smiles never fading as Harry excuses himself, leaving his girls under the fairy lights as they look around in awe at the garden.

He soon strides out, only in his long sleeve shirt and boxers, dishes in his hands filled with their meal as the pair laugh and cheer in excitement and also whistling for their boyfriend who's half naked dishing them their dinner, his confidence sky rocketing as his girls take him in, complementing him and his food as he passes out a plate to them, leaving one at his place at the table as he wanders back inside, Izzy shouting about how his bum looks while Joey laughs about how "biteable his British bum looks" Harry will never get tired of her saying that to him.

Their dinner is filled with laughs, complements thrown at Harry for his cooking and wine filled jokes and stories about their times together, Izzy acting out how Harry first reacted to Joey using a strap on, on him and Joey acting out how Harry drunkenly tried to sing for the two, half naked and using a shampoo bottle as a mic as the pair sat half asleep in the bed, their boyfriend after waking them up by belting a mashup of any song he could think of at three in the morning in their hotel room — it's safe to say it's one of their favourite memories together even if Harry only half remembers it.

Their tipsy jokes and random touches has lead them to their bedroom, Harry tied up to the headboard as Joey straddles Izzy at the end of the bed, the pair putting on a show as Harry whines and rattles his hands against the handcuffs to try and break free to touch them, his underwear suffocating his erection as he watches the girls fully naked touching and kissing one another, clearly getting off on how Harry is reacting to watching them, his body covered in sweat as he whines and curses into the air.

"You can whine all you want baby boy, but you're ours tonight, you do as you're told, got it?" Joey says as she pants slightly, Izzy suckling on her nipples and kissing her breasts as Joey speaks to Harry, her eyes on him as he bites his lip and nods obsessively at her.

"Yes, yes I'll do as I'm told" he says as Joey smiles, grasping Izzys hair in her fingers and pressing her face closer to her breasts as she keeps her eyes on Harry, knowing it drives him wild when she does this.

"Yes who?" She says as Izzy reacts to this also, her small whines coming out in tune with Harrys as they both curse and look at Joey with glassy eyes and their full attention on her.

"Yes, mommy" Harry says slowly, his head foggy and only focused on Joey and Izzy, his body feels like jelly as he smiles lazily and bites his lip watching his girls please one another in front of him.

"Good boy" she hums out, taking Izzy off her breasts lightly and laying her down on her back, her eyes on the small girl as she smiles in response, her bottom lip between her teeth as Joey lowers herself, kissing her body as she goes lower and lower towards where Izzy needs her most.

Harry is whining and tugging against the handcuffs as Joey eats Izzy out, Izzys own moans coming out and mixing in the air with Harrys as Joey feeds off their reactions, Izzy falling apart on her tongue as Harry falls apart only by looking at them, he's pretty sure he could cum just by looking at them — it's happened before, both girls ended up loving it and he ended up loving being humiliated by the pair as he whined into their mouths with his underwear filled with his own cum in the back of a limo on their way home from an event, the windows tinted but they all love the thrill of being found out as they're all on top of one another in a limo.

"Look at him Iz, getting hard by looking at you getting your pretty cunt ate" Joey says pulling away to slip her fingers into Izzys cunt, coaxing her towards her second orgasm of the night as Izzy moans and squirms about on the bed, much like Harry is at the top of the bed, his arms clattering in the metal against the headboard as Joey holds eye contact with him as she dips back down to suck at Izzys clit.

"Please, let me touch you both, mommy please" he whines as Izzy moans out loudly, her second high washing over her as Joey licks and laps up her release with a smile kissing her thighs as she rides her through her high, the pair glistening in sweat as they pleasure one another before their boyfriend who's about to fall apart watching it all.

"Mommy, Haz wants go touch himself" Izzy speaks up, Joey worshipping her body as Izzy looks at Harry clenching his own thighs together, trying anything to get some relief as he's restrained to the headboard.

"Should we let him? Let him touch his cock and watch us have some fun?" Joey says looking at Izzy who's pleading for Harry, needing to see him touch himself as Joey smiles at her.

"Alright baby girl, you let Haz out and I'll get our special toy we love, okay?" She instructs Izzy who's crawling towards a frustrated Harry who's covered in sweat and needing someone to touch him. She lets him free with the click of a key in the lock of the cuffs, Joey grabbing hers and Izzys favourite toy from their toy bag they bring with them everywhere — it's a double sided blue dildo, Harry loves it when they use it before him, they even face time him and use it while he's away on his own, his hand tugging at his cock as he watches them through a screen falling apart on their favourite toy.

Harry is loving it, watching them now in person, holding onto one another as they use the dildo together, their clits brushing off one another's as they move along the toy, Harry being instructed to touch himself but not to cum, Joey insisting that he be edged until she can finally fuck him. The girls are whining and moaning as they brush up against one another as they move, one of Joey's legs up on Izzys shoulders as both of Izzys legs hug Joey's waist while Joey's other leg rests around Izzys back holding her up against her body a little, preventing her from falling down in pleasure.

"Look so good, gonna cum all over myself just by looking at you both" Harry moans out, his hand lazily stroking his cock as Joey laughs while biting her lip looking at him, Izzy moaning away as Joey holds onto her, rocking their lips back and forth as they please one another.

"Yeah? You gonna cum all over yourself like you did that night in the limo? Poor baby couldn't even hold it in, came just by watching his girls make out" Joey teases him as Harry whines at her words, loving how she humiliates him yet again, his hand squeezing his cock to prevent himself from cumming just by listening to the words falling from her swollen plumped up lips.

Both Izzy and Joey fall apart on the toy, Harry nearly cumming along with them but when he earns a slap to his thigh by Joey he soon collects himself and tries to hold it off in the hopes that he gets some action too, the curly haired man coated in sweat biting his tongue to hold off on saying the wrong thing that could lead to him going to sleep hard and frustrated while his girls sleep peacefully around him, content and satisfied.

"Think he deserves to have his ass played with Iz? Think he deserves to have Mommy's tongue in his hole?" Joey asks as Izzy smiles lazily at her, the pair now kissing and laying beside one another on the bed as Harry watches them with pleading eyes.

"Yes mommy, he's been a good boy for you, want to watch you eat his hole" Izzy sighs out as Joey kisses her hard before slapping her Sensitive cunt with a laugh earning her a squeal and laugh from Izzy in return as she scurries up beside Harry, Joey watching as Harry whines into Izzys mouth as they kiss desperately.

"Good girl, giving Harry your pretty lips" Joey hums sitting in front of the pair, leaning over to brush Izzys hair out of the way as her and Harry whine into one another's mouths, tongues and teeth clashing as Joey observes them with a smile over how submissive the two of them are for her.

"Been such a good boy H, think you deserve my mouth. On your knees, and put that pretty ass up in the air" Joey instructs him, Izzy breaking away from him as he jumps into position, his head against the sheets as Izzy sits in front of him, brushing the curls from his face and littering small kisses all over him as Joey slaps his ass a few times to rile him up even more.

"Such a pretty hole. Desperate for it aren't ya baby boy? Clenching around nothing" Joey hums out as she runs her thumb over his hole, hearing his whines against the sheets as Izzy smiles and cooes at him while Joey bends down, running her tongue over his hole as he clutches onto the bed sheets.

"Doing so good mommy, Haz is tearing up over your tongue. Does it feel good?" She says to Joey and then looking down at Harry who now has his head in her lap, his cheek against her thigh as she runs her thumb over his cheeks soothing him as he desperately squirms under Joey's touch as she licks into his hole behind him.

"Feels s'good, fucking hell" he moans out loudly when Joey finally slips her fingers into him, the bottle of lube being discarded onto the bed beside them as Harry holds onto Izzys thighs while burying his head in her thighs also, moaning loudly from the pleasure as Izzy holds onto him, making eye contact with Joey every now and then as she happily licks and fingers Harry's hole just how he likes it.

"That's it baby, take mommy's fingers" Joey moans out watching as Harrys hole takes her fingers like nothing, his moans loud as she curls them up and hits off his prostate which sends him into a frenzy, his cock hard and leaking between his legs as he fights off his orgasm like Joey is demanding him to do, his thighs being slapped everytime she knows he's close to letting go.

"He needs to cum so badly mommy, can he cum?" Izzy asks Joey innocently, her eyes glassy and her lips swollen from biting down on them watching Harry fall apart as he rests his head on her thighs, his eyes looking up into hers as he silently pleads with her to ask can he cum.

"He's not cumming until Mommy puts her special cock into his hungry hole" Joey says through gritted teeth as she moans out watching as Harry squirms and moans for her, pleading with her to let him cum as they all look desperately at one another.

"Gonna go and get our special toy baby, Izzy keep our boy company" Joey instructs as Izzy bends down to engage in hers and Harrys own quiet conversation, small laughs and whispers heard amongst kisses as Joey smiles fondly, gathering up her strap on and pulling it up onto her as Izzy showers Harry in delicate kisses as he basks in all the attention, loving the adoration all over him.

It's only a few more minutes before Harry is losing his mind on the bed, his hands clutching onto Izzys thighs as she rubs his back and runs her fingers through her hair, Joey behind Harry pounding into him with her strap on as she praises him to no end, Harry loving the praise and attention as he gets ruined by his two girls.

"You love this, don't you? Getting fucked in the ass, wonder what your fans would think if they knew this, Harry Styles begging to be fucked in the ass and desperate to cum" Joey says which causes Harry to moan out loudly, Joey's hand joining izzys in his hair as she pulls on his hair erupting a growl from his chest at the feeling.

"Bet they'd all go crazy knowing you love to call me Mommy also, they'd love to know how fucking desperate to cum you get and how needy you are for a cock up your ass" Izzy moans at Joey's words also, the pair getting off at her words as she gives it her all, her hips snapping up against Harrys as his cock rests on the sheets rubbing off the soft cotton with each thrust of her hips.

"They'd also love how he likes to be called daddy, right mommy?" Izzy joins in on Harrys humiliation, his lazy smile up at Izzy as she joins in, almost proud of her as Joey holds the same smile, their quiet girl being vocal in bed is something they love, they know how hard it is for her to be like this, so when a few filthy words slip from her lips they both beam at her like she just learned how to talk for the first time.

"That's right Iz, they'd go crazy if they knew what a whore our baby boy is in bed, how kinky he really is and how much he loves to be man handled by his girls" Joey says as Izzy beams happily at her, the girl proud of herself for making them both smile and for speaking out loud in bed, especially when her words earned her a moan from Harry that sent shivers up her spine over how desperate he sounded.

"M'gonna cum, harder mommy please!" He begs out as Joey pounds into him harder, Izzy immediately reaching under his hips to grab his cock as Harry catches her nipple in his mouth, her breasts in his face as she strokes his cock, his moans vibrating through Izzy as Joey moans watching them both moan at one another at the head of the bed.

Joey's hands dig harder into Harrys waist, his ass jiggling as she pounds into him from behind, his body coated in sweat as her red hand prints are clearly visible on his cheeks from earlier, his body shaking as he nears his high, toes curling against the sheets as Joey doesn't stop moving, her own body coated in sweat as she puts power behind her thrusts to get their boyfriend to cum, every thrust she sends into him causing the dildo to brush against his prostate sending him into a frenzy.

"Pump him harder Iz, he's almost there, aren't you baby boy? Gonna cum all over Izzys hand and the sheets, yeah?" Joey asks as Harry moans out with a nod, his hands desperately gripping onto Izzys thighs and his mouth sucking her nipple as Izzy moans out at the feeling, stroking his cock faster and harder, Harrys hand rutting against her hand and the sheets.

"Fucking him so good mommy, come on Haz, cum for me and mommy" Izzy spits out as she moans at the feeling of Harry sucking on her nipples, Harry finally letting go at the sound of her dirty talking, it's not expected from her but when she doesn't spit out a few curses or dirty words it sends him and Joey over the edge, their innocent girlfriend talking dirty is something they never knew could make them crumble so quickly.

"Thank you mommy, thank you, thank you" he slurs out when Joey pulls out, his head of curls resting on Izzys thighs as she pulls the curls from his sweaty forehead, her fingers separating each curl from being matted together with sweat as Joey cleans off the dildo and runs to get a wash cloth to clean him up — Harry having his own washcloth, a light blue one, Izzy having a lilac one while Joey has a dark purple one, each one of them having their own colours.

"I know bub, just bare with me, just need to clean you up" Joey cooes out while wiping his hole and cock, Harry hissing and groaning over how sensitive he is right now, his lips kissing small kisses over Izzys thighs as Joey smiles at their small interaction.

"Did so good for us H, need to come back to me now yeah?" Joey says as Izzy kisses his face to try and coax him out of his sub space, his eyes hooded and tear filled as Izzy tries to help him come back.

"Mommy, thank you" he slurs out which causes Joey to throw his washcloth into the laundry hamper and crawl up beside him and wrap her arm around his back, flipping him over so he's half laying on each of their laps as they look down at him.

"No H, it's Joey now, come back to me, come back to Joey baby" she says soothing him quietly, his eyes falling closed before his mind finally clears of the fog that filled it, his smile wide in his blissed out state as he begins to come back.

"M'back now" he mumbles out as the two girls laugh a little, kissing him as he smiles lazily wrapping his arms around their thighs as they rest against the headboard with Harry in their laps.

"Think it's time for a bath. H, you follow Izzy and she'll get the bath ready while I clean up in here, okay?" Joey says instructing them all once again, the pair disappearing into the bathroom, Harry having to be held up by Izzy which was comical to watch, her small frame trying to keep his tall one up as her head rests on his bicep trying to guide him.

Their small conversation and laughs are heard from the bathroom, the water running and the smell of Harry's favourite lavender bath salts filling their noses as Joey pulls of the messy sheets, pulling on some new ones and quickly joining her babies in the bathroom, the pair now in the bath and splashing one another with water, Izzy resting against Harrys chest between his legs as they leave a space in front of her for where Joey usually sits, Izzy usually being sandwiched between the two as they all relax together.

"Room for one more?" Joey asks which causes them all to smile, remembering how she said those exact words when she saw Izzy and Harry making out across the room in the club two years ago, from then on, they never once regretted saying ...

"Always room for one more"

[todoscript]

sweetest delight

SYNOPSIS: While Shouto’s out hunting down villains on Valentine’s Day, you try your hand at making some sweets to celebrate the occasion, and in doing so, find your efforts rewarded in more ways than one.

pairing: pro hero!todoroki shouto x fem!reader

genre: smut. fluff. pro hero au.

word count: 7.3k+

warnings: 18+. characters are aged up. dominant!shouto. apron kink. praising. oral (both receiving). face-sitting. 69. cum-eating.

author’s note: god, this is long overdue, but i finally got this thing out after all this time. and of course, it ended up getting out of hand again

“Fuck, fuck, fuck–”

A range of curses spewed from your mouth as the unpleasant smell of your burnt confections permeated the space of your kitchen, threatening to notify the fire alarm overhead of your latest baking mishap. Luckily, you entered the kitchen just in time to dissipate the smoke before it can do so, fanning your towel while navigating to the oven to find your crisp, blackened sweets already ruined inside. The corners of your lips slipped into a scowl at another failed batch of mini chocolate cupcakes at your hand. You slid on a pair of oven mitts to transfer the set off the rack and onto the kitchen counter.

A flicker of optimism in your head presented the thought that they didn’t seem that bad at first glance, going so far as to believe they might’ve tasted relatively fine and that the burnt parts simply added a bitter flavor that would balance the overall sweetness of the decadent chocolate cupcakes. But upon closer inspection, you knew you were lying to yourself.

Flipping the miniature cakes out of the molds, you discovered the sweets were encased in a dreary black outer shell, a sight which made you grimace, wondering how you screwed up so badly to have concocted such a dismal image. You definitely had no right feeding these to Shouto, let alone offer them to him as a Valentine’s Day gift.

As everyone knew, the fourteenth day of February marked Valentine’s Day, the day where couples expressed their love to one another by giving gifts, spending quality time through dates, and displaying many other forms of affection. This year, however, Shouto was called in at his agency to investigate a case of villains whose plan was to wreak havoc on this special occasion.

Now, any person would find it normal to be peeved over these circumstances—having their lover’s free time eaten up by work when they could be celebrating together with a nicely lit dinner or a casual, romantic night at home, and perhaps cap off a wonderful evening with a smooth transition into the bedroom. Much better than spending a day at home alone, pitifully watching couples intertwine their hands together in envy as they walked along the sidewalk beneath your apartment complex, right?

Well, you, on the other hand, were a different case. Rather than sulk around as you waited for Shouto to arrive home later, you decided this would be the perfect chance to whisk up some sweets to surprise him. After all, what’s Valentine’s Day without some chocolate delights on the side, made with vanilla, sugar, cocoa butter, and lots of love and effort. A perfect way to welcome Shouto home from his mission while honoring the festivities, you’d say.

Besides, you understood the situation well enough to recognize that the citizens’ well-being came first before any date of yours. Your boyfriend was a hero, after all, and a Pro at that. It’s not as if you and Shouto hadn’t celebrated Valentine’s Day together before. So long as he came home—intact—prior to the clock ticking to midnight, one day didn’t bother you.

Though… after witnessing the aftermath of several failed attempts at baking thus far, you started to wonder if it would’ve done you better not to get so involved, only to waste resources and pervade your kitchen with an acrid smell.

Still, despite the trials and tribulations, you were determined to come out on top. You tapped your index finger repeatedly against the surface of the marbled counter. “Did I mix up the baking times? Maybe I undermined the portion sizes so the cupcakes started cooking faster?” you speculated out loud, wondering how to troubleshoot the minor errors to come out successful in your next attempt.

After some thought, you decided not to dawdle on your overthinking for too long and shrugged off the idea of redoing another batch of cupcakes. “It’s fine, I’ll just move onto the chocolates then. They’re the star of Valentine’s Day so better to focus on those,” you told yourself. A grin found its way on your face as you rolled the sleeves of your blouse up your forearms. “Alright, let’s get to it then!”

You retrieved a recipe sheet from across the counter, scanning through the contents while overlooking the ingredients lying in front of you. Compared to baking cupcakes, chocolates should be easier to tackle since you weren’t entirely making them from scratch. All you had to do is temper the chocolate melts in a bowl over a heat source, pour them into silicone molds, and refrigerate until hardened and shaped to the perfect, bite-sized delight. Seemed simple enough.

.

.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t quite as simple as you thought.

Or rather, you chose to make the whole process more complicated than it needed to be, not realizing the ambitious turn your take on these chocolates was moving toward until you drove yourself into another mess.

Your first trial of bonbons was sprawled out over parchment paper, waiting for your verdict. Eyes roaming the array of sweets tentatively, you absorbed the mixture of pink and white hues with an unsure look on your face. Somehow during the process, you opted to forgo the customary milk chocolates for white and strawberry, which was the closest you could get to matching Shouto’s signature hair colors.

You’d thought it’d be cute for the treats to have a slight resemblance to him as a simple yet sweet reminder that he was on your mind throughout your progress. But staring down at the final product, you wished you guessed ahead of time that the vision you sparked in your head was not going to be as bright and pretty in comparison to what came out.

You frowned at the batch with narrowed brows before begrudgingly scooping a piece and tossing it into your mouth. The sweetness of the strawberry and white chocolates coexisted together to form a smooth texture that left behind a creamy, floral undertone on your tongue. What was incredibly lacking, however, laid in the looks department. The visuals left… more to be desired, to say the least.

With the idea of wanting to use two different flavors of chocolate, you also played on the notion of incorporating a theme. That theme being half-and-half. And half-and-half being splitting the colors on the chocolates right down the middle.

Though not a complicated plan for an adept baker, it was the exact opposite for a newbie like you who had came up with the idea on the spot. With your chocolates appearing in odd shapes and sizes, not one seemed to resemble another, which was the result of both your lack of patience and miscalculations. You had to allow one of the flavors to harden in the mold before adding the other to not prematurely mix the colors, but judging by the swirls of pink and white surrounding the chocolates, that didn’t seem to go so well. Add on to the fact you had some trouble inverting them out of the silicon molds—the edges of the chocolates ending up smooshed or torn off entirely—and you were left with another failed attempt at a Valentine’s present.

“Guess making sweets isn’t really my thing, huh?” You sighed, body slumping forward against the kitchen counter in defeat. Your eyes wandered from your sad chocolates to the hefty amount of dirty dishes piled in the sink. All this, and you weren’t able to make anything worth giving to Shouto. What exactly were you going to tell him when he came home, bearing witness to this entire mess? No, Shouto was probably under enough stress and fatigue as it was after working all day. Plus, his anticipation for a gift would only be amplified if he saw the number of baking supplies you’ve wasted today. At this point, you had to turn in the towel.

“Oh well… I better clean everything up before Sho comes home and start on din–”

Your words were interrupted by the sharp sound of the front door opening.

“I’m home!” an all too familiar voice announced, one that you were more than aware belonged to a particular fire and ice hero.

Surprised, you glanced over at the clock to check the time, which read a bold 6:00 PM—sooner than you expected your boyfriend to arrive home from his duties that day. So soon, in fact, that you weren’t able to even begin erasing any of the evidence littered around the kitchen.

“Y/n?” you heard him call. Freezing in place, you picked up Shouto breathing in a quick whiff. “What’s that smell?” he asked but didn’t wait for a response, traveling through the enormous apartment to find that answer for himself. Hearing his feet shuffling across the hardwood floor, you moved quickly.

“The kitchen smells sweet but also... bitter.”

Sweet and bitter..? you repeated but soon realized what he meant—those damn burnt chocolate cupcakes you left out. While in your rush with making the chocolates, you had forgotten to dispose of them beforehand. Though the bitter smell was not as prominent as when the cupcakes first came out of the oven, it still didn’t evade Shouto’s keen senses.

After shoving the burnt mini cupcakes in a trash bin, you scrambled to the entrance to the kitchen, thankfully cutting Shouto’s path off just in time as you met him there. “Oh hey, Sho, why didn't expect you to come home so early!” you greeted, a cheerful lilt in your tone as you leaned an arm on the side of the doorway, hoping to come off ordinarily chill to avoid any questioning looks. It seemed you achieved that much at least by how Shouto smiled warmly at your appearance.

“You should’ve shot me a quick text or something.”

“Sorry, we managed to track down the group of villains right away and finished the mission smoothly without any casualties,” he explained. “I guess I was in such a hurry to come home and celebrate Valentine’s Day with you that I must’ve forgotten.” The soft look on Shouto’s handsome features had you in a daze for a second; you nearly missed him descending his head to your level so his lips could find yours. Eventually, you broke from your stupor and swiftly turned your head so he planted a peck on your cheek instead.

You were never one to purposely avoid a kiss on the lips like that from him—far from it actually—but you didn’t want him to find any residual sweetness on your lips from the confections you taste-tested that day and have him bring up if you made anything for him. One thing you surely couldn’t avoid, however, was his puzzled face at your uncharacteristic actions. Still, Shouto wasn’t one to overthink the details. Instead, he decided to look at the bigger picture, such as the dirty yet cute, pink and brown frilly apron tied around your body.

“Your apron’s a mess,” he chuckled lightly. The comment caught you off-guard, eyes slowly traveling down to the flour and chocolate stains on your Valentine’s-themed apron. “Have you been cooking?” he asked. You fumbled with your answer.

“O-Oh yeah..! In fact, I’m… still cooking, actually!” you quickly added, making up for your lack of words. “C’mon, it’s probably been a long day for you. You should go freshen up in the shower while I get everything done and cleaned!” You tried shoo-ing Shouto from the kitchen’s vicinity, but he didn’t budge.

“I can help out if you like. I wouldn’t want you to fix everything up by yourself, especially since we’re supposed to spend the rest of Valentine’s Day together,” he said, and as much as you liked to take him up on his kind and thoughtful offer, you had to object.

Firmly shaking your head, you continued your attempts at pushing Shouto to retreat to the shower and scrub off the troubles of his day. “No, you’ve probably done enough work today as it is! Just let me handle the rest, ‘kay?” you insisted, straining a smile. However, your hurried shoving felt almost too persistent than what Shouto found normal.

“Well, what are you making then–” As he tilted his head up to sneak a peek, you followed his movements, elevating yourself onto your tiptoes to block his vision in time.

“S-Soba noodles..! Cold! Just how you like them,” you answered after partially interrupting him. Quirking a brow at your fidgety gestures, Shouto stared at the smile etched on your lips which screamed of suspicion. Now he was sure something was up.

“Love,” he said, his voice a tone lower than usual that made goosebumps appear on your skin, staring at his turquoise and gray eyes warily, “are you hiding something from me?”

“What? Psh, no,” you feigned innocence, shrugging, “Why would you think that?”

Shouto gave you a look, silently telling you that you should more than know the reason why, but you chose to remain ignorant. No point in questioning it any further then. He would have to pry the answer out himself.

Aware that you had no intention of letting him pass voluntarily, Shouto began putting his hero training to use. He side-stepped in a single motion, quickly pivoting on the balls of his feet to slip through your defenses. You didn’t have time to ask yourself what happened before you turned around to watch his reaction to what you left for him on the kitchen counter.

Upon entering the kitchen, Shouto’s heterochromatic eyes were immediately drawn to the marbled white-and-pink sweets sprawled across the parchment paper. His interest piqued, he walked straight to the chocolates with you trailing behind. You could feel the heat in your cheeks slowly rise from the embarrassment at seeing Shouto inspect your sorry excuse of chocolates.

“Hm, no soba noodles, but I may have found something even better,” he said, and you wondered if you heard correctly or that maybe he saw something you didn’t. You rapidly blinked about four times, letting your vision adjust, and yet your chocolates remained.

“You’re kidding… right?”

Shouto lifted a brow at your hesitance. “No, why would I be kidding?” he replied thoughtfully. He took one of the chocolates off the parchment paper, raising it in the air between his thumb and index finger. “You made these for me, didn’t you?”

“I mean, yeah, they were supposed to be a Valentine’s Day gift, but…”

“But..?” A frown settled on his lips, watching you nervously twiddle your thumbs while you held your hands against your apron. “Y/n, you can tell me.” Not liking how you weren’t meeting his eyes, his finger drew your chin up so he could get a better glimpse of your face.

“But they don’t look the part. They’re hideous,” you quietly admitted, your words mellowing into a whisper the more they departed your lips. The way he treated your creations as if they belonged on a pedestal didn’t sit right in your eyes. “So I... didn’t want you to see them, or any of this actually. I thought if you saw what I was doing, you’d get your hopes up for something special, only to be disappointed.” You tried avoiding his gaze again, but Shouto wouldn’t allow it, following your eyes as his hand pried yours apart to take one in his own.

His focus shifted from the pink and white chocolate held in front of him to the uncertainty clouding your expression. “I’m not sure what you mean. They look fine to me.”

“Sho, you don’t have to lie to me just so you don’t end up hurting my feelings. Anyone can see how uneven they look,” you said, pointing at the rest of the batch still sitting on the counter behind him. There was a low chuckle coming from the male’s lips, one that you guessed was out of amusement, but you were too caught in your troubled feelings to be sure.

“Well, I have to admit, they don’t exactly resemble the perfect, visual representation of the chocolates you’d find at the store or anything,” he acknowledged with you mumbling an ‘I told you so’ in response before he continued, “but that’s the reason why I like them. That means you made them for me and there isn’t any chocolate like it. They’re one of a kind.”

His genuine words took you aback, eyes glimmering and cheeks flushed. You were too wrapped up in your need for perfection that you didn’t realize you could consider your efforts that way.

“Besides,” he threw the little bonbon in his mouth, “they taste great,” he said as the strawberry and white cream melted on his tongue with its rich sweetness.

Despite his praise, you thought he had only said that because you knew for a fact that the chocolates did at least pass in the taste department. “But what if they had tasted bad too? What would you have said then?” You were bold enough to question, though half-worried about his answer in the back of your head—worried that he would have to take back those sweet words of his.

“I still would have eaten them, regardless. I’d never waste anything you’ve made for me, you should know that. To me, these chocolates are the sweetest delight not because they’re the best looking or tasting, but because they came from you,” he answered earnestly, bending down to tuck a hair away from your stunned yet grateful appearance which looked as if you were nearly about to sigh out loud in relief. You brought your body into his chest, tucking your head beneath his chin, and he wrapped his arms around you, lips pressed against your hair.

Shouto didn’t grant you much time to bask in your solace however, before beckoning you over to the kitchen counter. He wasn’t done teasing you just yet.

“Normally couples give each other milk chocolates on Valentine’s day. Any reason you decided on white and strawberry then?” Shouto noted, a grin on his lips as you seemed reluctant to reveal your reasoning—lips pursed and fingers playing with the hem of your apron.

“Well, they’re supposed to be your…” You finished by motioning at the crown of your head before pointing to his red and white locks.

Heh... Cute. The grin that was persistent on his features widened, and your response earned you a kiss on the cheek. “Thinking about me, huh?” he teased. You were more than aware of your intentions throughout your chocolate-making process, but it didn’t make the whole situation any less embarrassing when your motives came to light out of Shouto’s own mouth.

You pouted profusely, turning your face in the other direction as you nudged his arm. “Aren’t you going to eat the rest then?” you asked despite your demure demeanor. You couldn’t see it, but you were positive he was aiming that amused expression in your direction, leaning his head on his palm while his elbow was leveled on the counter.

“You made a lot of chocolates today, love. You don’t expect me to finish them all by myself, do you?” You heard the rustle of the parchment liner unsticking to something behind you. Then a finger poked your cheek, and out of curiosity, you followed where the disturbance came from, only to have a swirl of pink and white pushed past your lips.

“Mm..” you hummed surprisingly in delight at the harmonious strawberry and cream flavors coating your tastebuds.

“Tastes good, doesn’t it?” he asked.

“Yeah, I got to taste them before you arrived home.” You rubbed the back of your head. “And um, I didn’t exactly make these from scratch...” You went about divulging your methods to him, explaining your usage of chocolate melts, which all in all saved you a lot of time, considering your earlier mishaps with the brownies—a misfortune you also confessed to as you side-eyed the trash bin.

The dual-haired male laughed with mirth at the disasters you tangled yourself into today. “Seemed like you had an eventful Valentine’s Day at home without me.”

He scanned over your outfit, consisting of a simple buttoned blouse and a pair of jeans. What caught his eye the most was the frilly, laced brown and pink apron tied around your body. You must have bought this specifically to get in the spirit of Valentine’s Day because this was the first he’s seen you in this. Normally you’d wear those plain cotton aprons while you were cooking. Not something so charming and—dare he say—refreshing.

As you were continuing the conversation—going on about how vanquishing criminal organizations was more productive than whatever you were concocting at home—your words faded into the background. Shouto found it hard to focus on what you were saying, while your animated gestures seemed to enhance the shape of the apron against your body, emphasizing your physique.

Recalling the story you just mentioned, he imagined what the scene of you frantically dashing around the kitchen would look like as you wore this cute thing. Was it weird of him to hold fantasies of arriving home, being greeted by your endearing self donning this garment, dolled in its intricacies with a smile gracing the lips he oh so wanted to kiss every day?

Shouto would think so. He’s never heard of any anecdotes of this kind of behavior before. Perhaps it was how dainty and frilly the material appeared against your figure that stemmed such a risqué thought from him. If that was the case, then this apron was no different than lingerie. Or more specifically, those delicate lace babydolls you’d wear for him on those special occasions, in which you displayed the zenith of lust and vulnerability that rendered him a man ensnared by his need to utterly ravage you–

Fuck. Letting those imaginations cross his mind was a dangerous move. He felt himself getting hard, body exercising the willpower not to pounce and concede to his fantasies. Then again, no one could really blame him for thinking of his girlfriend this way on Valentine’s Day. Especially when you looked so damn cute right now that he could just eat you up.

“Shouto?” Your voice diverted his attention from the growing problem in his pants, though only for a moment. When his focus returned to you, all those lascivious thoughts buried in the back of his head made their way to the forefront again. Damn, did he have it bad.

“Is something wrong? You were zoning out for a bit.”

He shook his head, dispelling your concern. However, it was going to take more than that to sweep away the lust consuming his mind. “It’s nothing. More importantly, why don’t we continue tasting these chocolates?” Pulling up a stool, he took a seat next to the kitchen counter.

Just as you were going to mention that you needed to start on dinner soon, Shouto suddenly drew your body in between his parted legs. Thrown slightly off-balance, you instinctively held onto his shoulders to keep yourself steady.

You couldn’t help but notice the hand traveling up your legs as it situated itself on the back of your thigh, but the detail was abandoned as soon as it was manifested. The proximity between you two was too much not to overlook now. Shouto peered up at you with what you made out to be smoldering intensity, and the sight reduced you to shying away from his eyes again.

Of course, Shouto didn’t take a liking to that. With you so close, he didn’t want anything hindering his front seat viewing of your candid reactions. “Baby, look here,” he called to you. You followed his command, turning back to face the grin reaching his lips. “There’s my pretty girl.”

You attempted to open your mouth to reply but found another ball of marbled chocolate placed where words should’ve been.

Soft lips wrapped around him, Shouto had to fight back the urge to groan, feeling your tongue graze the pad of his thumb as he fed you the candy. His other hand, formerly occupied with rubbing subtle circles on your clothed flesh, wandered to the satin ribbon of your apron fashioned behind you.

It wasn’t long until you discerned the game he was playing through the fiery looks and frisky touching.

Well, enter player two.

You brought a hand to his wrist, keeping him there as your tongue made work at licking away the residual chocolate melted on his finger. You moved from his thumb to his index finger, noting not to miss anything with every flick as you confidently returned the heady expression with batted eyelashes.

Shouto breathed in silently through his nose, gritting his teeth, your sultry actions having an innate effect on him, to which you smirked at. There was a slight tug on the ribbon wrapped behind you. It wasn’t firm enough to where the knot came undone, but enough that you noticed his fixation on the material. If he was making an effort to exert some self-control, it was futile at this point. No doubt, he was going to take you before Valentine’s Day was over.

“Hmm, you’re right, these chocolates are pretty tasty. But it’s probably because you’re the one feeding them to me that they taste just soooo good,” you mused, adding a sensual tonality to your voice as you concluded your words with one last kitten lick.

The man before you bit the inside of his cheek, your voice alone making blood rush south. You little minx. He was going to make doubly sure you understood just what you were doing to him.

Finally releasing his hand, you reached over beside you to grab a chocolate off the parchment paper. “For you~” You giggled as you led the confection to Shouto’s mouth. He readily accepted your gift, lips wrapping around the tips of your fingers as the mellow flavors soothed his taste buds. He made a point of re-enacting your little show, tongue languidly lapping your fingers while he maintained steady eye contact. You shuddered at the wet warmth abiding your skin, the suffocating sexual tension in the air causing you to press your thighs together. The action was not overlooked by Shouto, who smiled amidst cleaning your fingers with every brush of his tongue.

“What’s wrong, love? You were so bold and talkative earlier. Cat got your tongue or something?” he teased. A smirk ran across the curl of his lips as his licks turned to kisses he planted on the back of your hand.

After finishing his task of lapping up every essence of sweetness off your skin, he lifted himself from the stool. Doing so made him stand tall over you, and he easily cornered you to where your back met the edge of the counter. Your wrist captured in one of his hands, he wove an arm around you, pulling your body into him.

“You know, there’s something I want to eat right now other than chocolates,” he confessed, forehead pressed to yours and glinted heterochromatic eyes latent with an insatiable hunger. The baritone of his voice sent shivers through your body and a throb aching in your core.

You innocently tilted your head at him. “Oh, is that so? And what would that be?”

He chuckled darkly at your redundant question.

“Why you of course, my love.”

The moment the words reached your ears, he lunged forward to seize your lips. You quickly followed in the sensual movements of his soft lips against yours like it was a practiced routine, not resisting his tongue prying its way into your mouth and submitting to the dance that made pleasure course through your veins.

A single tap on your thigh was your cue to hop into Shouto’s waiting grasp and wrap your arms around his neck. You pulled your bodies closer to where the few layers of clothing you both possessed did nothing to hide your enthusiasm for each other. You could feel your nipples under your bra stiffen at your arousal, growing more sensitive as you pressed your chest to him. Meanwhile, his hard erection shamelessly poked the inside of your thigh to which his grip was poised on remaining firm, grinding your lower half against him.

You expected this was where he intended to have you—right then and there in the middle of the kitchen—but to your surprise, Shouto had other plans. He navigated you two to the dining table as you continued feverishly making out with your legs wrapped around his waist. Never breaking the hot mingle of your lips, he carefully placed you on the edge. His hands were free to roam the expanse of your body, palming at places that elicited airy moans from you as he inscribed the niceties of your bonny apron into his memory. Though he cursed the unnecessary layers that obscured your beautiful flesh from him.

Finding the clothes still on you equally unbearable in the heat of your movements, you were on the same wavelength as him. You sought out the satin ribbon tied behind your back that kept the apron on your form, but before your fingertips could even reach the material to tug the knot loose, Shouto seized your wrists and led your hands away. Your face was scrunched with bewilderment by how sudden his actions were.

Shouto didn’t think he could have a fetish over something as ordinary and domestic as a decorative garment tied around your waist, but this Valentine’s Day was proving him otherwise. He was not about to pass an opportunity to absolutely ruin you in this pretty thing.

“Keep it on,” he ordered, voice deep and commanding.

“H-Huh? What about my clothes?” you stuttered, confused at first. You wanted to ask what spurred him to give such a demand, but you were too caught in the moment to think of objecting to his request (not that you had much choice anyway).

“Let me.” That was all he said before his hands sought after the waistband of your jeans and the buttons of your top. He pulled and undid the apparel until you were left in only your panties and that lovely apron. Your bra was quickly disposed of to the pile next to his feet thanks to the clip being located at the front this time, and he was eternally grateful for the convenience. You didn’t even have to mention anything for his own clothes to float above yours on the floor, sitting back on the table to admire his toned physique, now free for you to ogle in just his briefs.

His hooded, icy eyes concentrated on every aspect of your appearance. He didn’t dare miss a single detail in front of him—from your bare, flushed skin glowing beneath the light fixture to your aroused nipples shaped through the thin fabric. You were a sight Shouto would gladly worship for the rest of his life.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, my love, and I’m going to enjoy ravaging you until all you know is my name.”

His words alone were enough to send a tingle of anticipation to your cunt. You did not shrink at his assertiveness, instead embracing both yours and Shouto’s desires with open arms.

“You have me, Sho. I’m all yours.”

The man released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding before inhaling and diving in. Your lips reencountered each other, continuing from where you left off with his tongue chasing after you. You laced your fingers in his soft hair to press him deeper to you as Shouto navigated down your neck. He sucked and licked at your skin; every tug he felt on his scalp compelled him to lay marks as he inched closer and closer to your breasts.

“Ahh.. Sho…” you mewled, feeling his hands grope one of your mounds and tease your slit through your panties. With no intention of letting this apron off your body, Shouto pushed the fabric concealing your chest inward to reveal a perky nipple, seeming excited to be covered by his mouth. Well, who was he to deny such exuberance, especially when he himself was hungry to taste?

Lips enclosing the stiffened nub, Shouto sucked and prodded with fervor. As you squirmed and squealed beneath him, your fingers pulled harder at his strands which he hummed in content at. The tip of his tongue circled your areola, making the slick clinging to your panties damper at the stimulation. The hand occupied between your thighs stroked you against the fabric before pulling it to the side to touch you directly.

“Oh fuck!” you cursed at the contact as Shouto did not hesitate to start pumping a finger into your pussy.

“Damn, you’re so wet down here. Did my kisses and teasing do all this?”

You were too distracted by the precise movements of his fingers working through you to answer, words superseded by your wanton moans. “Keep making those pretty sounds, love. I want you to cry out as I’m ruining you.”

Your noises hit a crescendo when his fingers began curling inside you, stretching into places that lit stars behind your eyes. His thumb rubbed your clit to intensify the fire building in your abdomen. Your back arched on the table as you grabbed onto Shouto’s free hand for dear life, already feeling that flame ready to ignite.

“Sho– Wait, I’m gonna–”

“Don’t hesitate, sweetheart. Coat my fingers with your cum,” he told you, increasing the speed of his thumb against your bundle of nerves as he continually hit that euphoric soft spot.

At his words, your pussy clenched hard around him, practically sucking him in. You threw your head back against the table, releasing a loud cry of his name as your orgasm engulfed your whole body with electrifying pleasure. Chest heaving up and down, your breaths sounded ragged as your vision went white before slowly adjusting to the light.

Shouto slid his fingers out of you and brought them to his mouth, licking at the layer of gloss. He observed your fucked-out state from above and admired his handiwork—your lips swollen, eyes glassy, and sweaty skin adorned with his marks.

“You taste absolutely delicious, you know,” he said almost too sweetly, like he had immediately gotten drunk off drinking the remnants of your orgasm. And, of course, he had to let you know how delectable you were. Shouto provided you a sample by pressing his fingers to your lips. You obediently parted them, welcoming your essence on your tongue.

“Don’t you think so?”

You hummed and nodded in agreement. Shouto grinned, bending down to mix your flavor in each other’s mouths. He finally removed your ruined panties and slid them down your legs. But to no one’s surprise, the apron stayed on your person.

When you parted, Shouto gestured for you to get up from the table. In doing so, you had anticipated this would be the time to head straight to the bedroom, but the night continued to prove you wrong. Shouto was still famished.

“Stand up for a second, baby. I want to lay down as I have my meal.” You didn’t need to guess to know just what he wanted to satiate his appetite tonight.

Shouto laid himself flat across the table, the majority of his legs dangling off the edge. You, on the other hand, were apprehensive at his approach, cautiously wondering if your modest dining table could handle the rampant motions of two adult bodies on top of it at once. Should the legs give way and the table collapses, the gravity of your descent would put all your weight onto him. What if you hurt him as a result?

“Love, what’s the holdup?” your boyfriend called, breaking your train of thought, “Come, your throne awaits.” He patted his chest—a rather peculiar place to sit but your cunt pulsed at the image of you riding that gorgeous face of his.

“O-Okay, I’m just afraid of hurting you, is all,” you said, pulling at the hem of your apron for security.

He raised his upper body halfway to see the hesitance painted on your features. “Y/n, there’s no need to worry, I wouldn’t have thought of doing this if I couldn’t handle it,” he assured, his hand reaching out for you. “Trust me. I won’t let anything happen to us.”

You stared at the hand hovering in front of you and then at Shouto’s eyes glimmering with faith, and you knew you could trust his word. So you take his hand, climbing onto the table and over his body where you straddled his chest.

“Dining tables are meant to be eaten on, right? Well, I intend to devour you until your legs are shaking beside me, sweetheart,” he promised. He stroked up and down your thighs tauntingly. Your breaths hitched as he maneuvered you above his face, moving the flap of your apron so you could feel his cold breath against your lower lips.

“As much as I appreciate all those confections you made for me, they all pale in comparison to the sweetest delight here–” He uttered praises to your core while rubbing the soft flesh of your thighs. “This pretty, soft, and dripping pussy.”

Warmth spread across your cheeks at his lewd words and how close in proximity he was to your twitching center. The one thing you detested about this apron at this moment was the fact it blocked you from what Shouto was doing, the bottom half lying right above his face. To him, however, it made everything all the more entertaining.

Despite being the one trapped under you, it must have felt like you were more in the dark than he was. After all, he was the one asserting dominance in this situation, and with a layer of fabric hiding his face, you had no idea how or when he was going to eat you out. His deafening silence was not offering you one bit of reassurance either. If he truly intended to devour you atop this table, he should just do it already.

“...Sho? Are you—Ah!” Upon questioning him, your words were choked by your surprised squeal, feeling him delicately kiss your folds with chilly lips attached to your warm pussy. You opened your mouth to speak again, yet you struggled to search for words as Shouto’s tongue flattened against you, licking a long strip before latching onto your sensitive pearl. The more he relentlessly sucked and teased, the more you sang out with waves of pleasure quivering through your body.

Hearing your beautiful noises, he chuckled, tongue vibrating on your clit. Every sound you produced made his cock stutter, still leaking and begging for attention beneath his briefs.

Not liking how inactive you were—simply sitting on his face and waiting for yourself to come undone on his tongue—you reached behind yourself to trail your hand down his abdomen. His body tensed, abs immediately flexing at your soft touch. You noticed his ministrations falter in their rhythm.

“B-Baby, what are you doing?” he questioned, pulling himself off of you to concentrate on your hand running along the waistband of his briefs. His fingers dug into your flesh as you found his length, tentatively giving it a pump that gave birth to a strained noise below the flap of your apron.

“You’ve been doing all the work so far, Sho. I just want you to enjoy yourself,” you said. His eyebrows were scrunched, hissing through his teeth at your thumb grazing his slit, mixing his precum around the tip.

“I am enjoying myself—this is all I could ever ask for,” he replied honestly. He lifted the frilly material off his face so you could discover your slick running down his lips and neck, the blush spread across his fair cheeks an more than sufficient indication that he derived nothing but delight from being in this position. He looked like an absolute mess, yet the debauched sight made both your heart and pussy flutter.

“But if you want to join in, I won’t stop you.”

At that, Shouto detached himself from your sweetness for just a second to quickly reposition you above him. You were adjusted to where you were practically on all fours on the table now, facing the prominent bulge raised on his briefs while your fluttering cunt was somehow even more obscenely split in front of him. You were thankful the piece of furniture stayed intact throughout the motions, pleasantly astounded by its strength. However, you couldn’t pause to be impressed by this detail for long. Not when Shouto’s aching erection pleaded for you to continue touching it.

Your hand returned to its original place—wrapped around his heavy length that wept with precum coating the surface of its mushroom top. As you stroked it up and down in a consistent rhythm, you altered your grip to tighten more around him.

“Ooh yeah, that’s it, baby. Just like that… Ahhhh, fuckkkk—” You were rewarded by his praises and groans at the splendid pressure surrounding his dick. It encouraged you to keep up your pace and add another hand to the fray to increase the tension.

“You’re doing so well, making me feel so fucking good, love. Can you add your mouth for me now?” he requested, and you happily complied. Your tongue flattened against his cock, noting every vein and twitch running across your wet muscle that reduced Shouto to muttering obscenities behind you. Reaching the top, you swirled your tongue along the tip before taking the entire head into your warm cavern. Shouto’s thighs flexed, body almost trembling at how heavenly you made him feel. He couldn’t be outdone.

You let out a whine on his cock, feeling his mouth working against you again. This time you felt the effects stronger than before as Shouto spread your pussy lips to grant him better access to tongue fuck you. He stimulated every sensitive area with practiced ease, making sure to flick your clit with extra vigor to achieve the best results. You delivered in your reactions—legs shaking and knees slowly and deliberately being reduced to jelly.

Even ensnared in ecstasy, you did your best to adapt to his intensity, engulfing him more into your mouth. Your hands worked together to maximize the most pleasure you could give him, fondling his balls and gripping the base of his cock.

The lewdest of sounds filled the room in an unrelenting symphony. From your muffled whimpers to your pussy squelching in the presence of Shouto’s mouth purring against you, there was no shortage of bliss evident in the atmosphere. Hearing yourselves in the throes of rapture as you devoured each other’s whole beings like starved animals, you two were simultaneously climbing toward your highs.

“Shit, keep doing just that baby, and I’m going to paint that pretty mouth of yours white,” he warned half-heartedly. You purred, the enthusiasm laced your tone informing Shouto you wanted him to do just that. He was pleased by your response.

“You want it, don’t you, you slutty girl? Well, I expect you to drown me in your honey while I cover your throat with my cum then.” Those were the last words he spared you before proceeding to manifest them into reality. His hands dug themselves in the flesh below your ass cheeks, exposing your pussy to his appendage that swiped away at your clit until shockwaves made you tremble above him.

You were the first to come undone, juices running down your thighs and boyfriend’s chin. Your cries were muffled amidst Shouto’s dick caught down your throat, tightening around his length, which surged with spurts of white all over your mouth. You swallowed every single drop of his seed, wiping at the excess on your lips as you released the hero’s cock with a loud pop.

After taking a moment to catch your breaths, you carefully moved off of each other. Shouto steadied you on his lap, letting you straddle him as he sat on the edge of the table. He intertwined your fingers through his and brought them to his lips to place a tender kiss on the back of your hand.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Shouto. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

[a-edgar-allan-hoe]

The Last Chthonian

Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader

Part 1

Author’s Note: Had this idea living in my head rent free so hopefully I don’t butcher it.

Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity, and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside, until a certain trio appear at your doorstep one day.

Warnings: language

Part 1 , Part 2

“So, where are we going again?” Bucky asked Sam, confusion written on his face as he leaned back in the front passenger seat of the car.

“You’ll find out. We’ll be there soon.” Sam answered, his eyes glued to the road and hands gripping the wheel.

“But we’ve been driving in the middle of nowhere for an hour now.” Bucky fussed while staring at the never ending green grass that passed by, clearly irritated with Sam’s lack of details.

“I too would like to know where we are going.” Zemo spoke up only to add to Sam’s annoyance.

“YOU don’t get to ask questions.” Sam glared at Zemo through the rear view mirror before staring back at the road. He was starting to get fed up with their questions and lack of patience.

The three men had been driving with their windows down for what felt like hours through the Scottish countryside, watching the green highlands pass by. Though they admired the beauty of the landscape, they were extremely anxious to stretch their legs and get to their unknown destination. Not to mention, they were starting to get a little hungry as well.

“Are we there yet?” Bucky broke the silence after some time.

“We get there when we get there.” Sam snapped, his knuckles turning white from gripping the wheel a bit too hard. He was really looking forward to getting out of the car and away from those two.

After a short while they neared a small seaside village. The place was not that busy, save for the few locals and fishermen going about the cloudy day.

Sam drove on a little further before finally reaching a quaint stone cottage that sat on a hill at the edge of town, overlooking the ocean. He pulled up next to the 60s convertible cream colored Volkswagen Beetle that had a surfboard tied on the roof, parked next to the cottage. Sam took the keys out of the ignition and stepped out, stretching his legs as the others followed suit.

Sam smiled to himself as he walked up the path leading to the front door and glanced upon the flower garden and the decorations out front. He knew for sure this was your place. The other two quietly followed behind while looking around the residence, from the neatly kept garden and the vines that crawled along the house, to the fishing equipment hung up on the side, down to the handmade birdhouses and the wind chimes and sun-catchers that clinked melodically against the ocean breeze, including the collection of garden gnomes. The place reminded the men something straight out of Jane Austen’s novels, not that they’d like to admit they knew such a thing.

Sam stopped at the front door before turning to the others with a pointed finger. “Now whatever you do, don’t stare.”

“Wait what?” Bucky scrunched his nose.

“Just don’t.”

Sam paused for a moment, thinking of how to explain this situation to you before tapping on the wooden door. No answer. Sam could feel Bucky glaring at the back of his head, ready to scold him about how this was a big waste of time. So he knocked again, this time calling out if any one was home.

Before Bucky could open his mouth there was rustling coming from inside and the sound of someone knocking into furniture before a faint “ow” and “fuck” of a woman’s voice made Bucky and Zemo glance questioningly at each other. Where the hell did Sam lead them to?

The locks on the door were fumbled with before opening up to reveal your head poking out from behind.

“Sam?” You breathed out. You were slightly out of breath and your hair was disheveled with strands falling out of your bun at the front from under your silk scarf. The sleeves of your button up blouse were rolled up at your elbows, revealing your dirt covered arms. You were working on your vegetable garden in the back before you were interrupted by your unexpected visitors.

Bucky stood behind Sam and couldn’t help but widen his eyes when he saw you. He only met you a few times during the threat of Thanos and before, but the interactions he had with you were very brief. All he knew was that you were a good friend of the Avengers, especially Thor, Clint, Nat, Wanda, Tony and Steve and now apparently Sam. But after Thanos was defeated you disappeared and nothing was heard of you since.

Zemo glanced out from behind Bucky and tried to remain hidden behind the super soldier once he recognized your face. You weren’t exactly an Avenger and you weren’t on Earth when he tore the Avengers apart, you were helping Thor at the time and little to everyone’s knowledge, you were also defending your planet against an inside threat. But you had heard of him through your friends, and though you hadn’t met him, Zemo knew you would strangle him once you spotted him.

“Hey y/n.” Sam smiled at you, calling you by your alias name. He knew who you were through Steve, but even then, he didn’t know everything about you and about the recent events that took place in your home planet that still devastated you.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked with a mixture of surprise and annoyance, wiping your hands on your apron. There was a reason you chose to live all the way out here, and though you gave Sam your new address, you didn’t expect him to bring company.

“I came to see how you were doing?”

“Bullshit.” You scowled, crossing your arms over your chest. “If you wanted to check up on me you wouldn’t have brought someone.”

Sam opened his mouth to speak but decided against it, refused to meet your stern eyes and looking down at the ground instead with his hands in his pockets. He often forgot how well you were able to read people, almost as if you were telepathic. Little to his knowing, you were in fact a telepath but decided against telling him. You’ve known people who became uncomfortable when finding that detail about you and noticed how they tried to avoid you, constantly guarding their thoughts when around. If only they knew you never bothered to do such a thing because you respected their privacy and because you’ve seen things in people’s heads you wished to forget. You’ve only ever used your telepathy when it was absolutely necessary. Straightening up, you finally took a better look at the other man behind him and instantly recognized him as Bucky.

“Barnes?”

“Hi y/n.” Bucky smiled shyly at you as he looked into your eyes. And that’s when he noticed for the first time that your eyes were different from when he last saw you. Your irises were now a shade of purples and blues with flecks of gold that spread out, a reflection of the stars and the universe. So that’s what Sam meant when he said to not stare. But could you have just been wearing contacts? Bucky’s stare was cut short as Sam noticed, glaring at him and clearing his throat before elbowing him in the stomach.

Suddenly, there came the sound of a little girls squeals coming from inside your home, startling the men except for Sam. And before they knew it, a small girl in overalls who looked to be of 6 years of age sprinted through your legs and out the door. “Uncle Sam!”

“Oof! Athena wait!” You gasped against the impact as you tried to reach for her.

“Hey hey little Athena!” Sam smiled as he picked the excited girl up into his arms before setting her on his hip. “How’s my favorite little warrior?”

“I’m helping Mommy with the garden! See!” She squealed in delight before showing off her dirty hands.

“I can see that.” Sam chuckled. “Looks like you’ve been working hard.”

“God, I’m so sorry Sam. She’s covered in dirt.” You tried to apologize with an embarrassed face.

“Hey no worries.” Sam smiled at you. “Some dirt is not gonna kill me.”

“Mommy who’s this?” Athena questioned as she looked at the man next to Sam.

You looked at Bucky and gave him a look that questioned what name he would prefer, to which he nodded and mouthed Bucky to you.

“That’s Bucky sweetie.”

“Hi Bucky! I’m Athena!” She stuck her tiny hand out to for him to shake, a big grin plastered on her face from meeting new people.

“It’s very nice to meet you Athena.” Bucky smiled as he gently shook her hand, making her giggle.

The scene made you smile to yourself as you pushed a strand of your hair behind your ears. Maybe it wasn’t so bad that Sam and Bucky decided to pay a visit.

“Mommy who’s the man in the back?”

The man in the back? You looked to Sam and James with a raised brow before craning your neck to see who the third guest could be, only to tense up and clutch the door frame, forcing yourself to not go over there right now and throw him off a cliff.

“What the hell is he doing here?” You glared daggers at Zemo as he watched you with caution, before you turned to Sam.

“I can explain.” Sam tightened his jaw as he saw your expression.

“Athena, sweetie.” You turned to your daughter with a gentle smile. “I want you to go up to your room and clean up okay?”

“Okay mommy.” Athena looked back at you with a worried look as Sam set her down.

You caressed her head as she walked in, watching her go up the stairs and waiting for the sound of her bedroom door to close and her shower to turn on before shutting the front door behind you.

“Are you out of your goddamn minds?” You glared at the two, trying to not yell, your fists balling up in anger. “What in the three hells is going on?”

“Look y/n. He might be of some use.” Sam tried to explain.

“So you broke him out of prison?!”

“Well technically he got himself out.” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. He was starting to think that this wasn’t such a good idea and felt guilty for coming here.

“Oh? So what? He magically decides to join your little boy band? The Wakandans are after his ass in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Look I get it. Working with Zemo sounds like a terrible idea and you have every right to be upset. We just need a place to lay low for now. Just...hear us out.” Sam responded with a pleading look.

You stood there with a hand on your hip, squeezing your eyes shut while you pinched the bridge of your nose, not even caring that you still had dirt on your hands.

“Please y/n.” Bucky spoke up, making you look up at him. “Sam wouldn’t come here if he didn’t know what he was doing.”

You looked between the two, rubbing your chin in contemplation as you thought everything over. Bucky was right. Sam would never try to purposely put you in harm’s way.

“Fine.” You breathed out. “You can stay for the night. But you are going to tell me everything. Every last detail.”

“I promise.” Sam looked to you as he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Well come on then. Get in.” You nodded your head towards the door as you opened it, letting Bucky and Sam in before putting yourself in front of Zemo and blocking him with a threatening look while speaking in a cold tone. “I swear to the gods, if you so much as try anything, I will bury you alive in my backyard and use you as fertilizer to grow fungi.”

“Y/n what the fuck.” You heard Sam utter from inside.

Zemo gave you a bewildered look and decided to keep quiet as you stepped aside to let him in, watching him closely as he went in. You stuck your head outside again, looking around for any bystanders and making sure the men were preoccupied before muttering something in Ancient Greek, waving your hand around and moving your fingers in specific gestures as a clear glass like film covered the area around your home for protection. You did another once over before going back in and closing the front door, readying yourself for the conversation you would have with Sam and Bucky.

[andvys]

You will be my girl

Warnings: alcohol consumption, a bit of a steamy scene towards the end

Pairing: Rockstar!Ellie Williams x Reader

You just got done with your shift at the small cafe you were working at. You went into the break room, taking off your apron, laying it on the table, you heard Dina walking in behind you.

Dina was your best friend and your coworker, you’ve known each other since elementary school and you were attached to each other ever since. You even lived together. She was basically your sister at this point, with how you close you are.

“So.... you coming tonight right.?” She asked, looking at you with hope in her eyes.

She was referring to a bar, where a concert was supposed to be tonight. You knew she only wanted to go because of Jesse, he was a regular at your café. Always coming in to get coffee for him and his band. He was nice you liked him and Dina was crushing hard on him. You constantly tried to encourage her to ask him out on a date, knowing that Jesse would agree right away but she was stubborn about it, wanting him to make the first move and he did, inviting her to come see him and his band play at the towns bar tonight and to hang out later with him, playing it cool she agreed to it only to completely flip out once he left the café. You were excited for her, happy about seeing her finally liking someone this way.

“Of course, Dina. Can’t let you go there by yourself. We don’t want you to do something you’ll regret later on.” You winked at her.

Teasing her was your favorite thing to do.

“Ugh you’re the worst (y/n).” She rolled her eyes at you. “Make sure to look hot tonight, maybe you’ll find yourself a hot lady friend.” Now she was the one teasing you. “I’m not the one going on a “date” tonight.” You replied.

“Whatever.” She said before walking back out to the counter.

Putting your jacket on, you grabbed your stuff and went over to the counter asking Dina to make you a coffee before leaving. You would surely need it, knowing you’d be at the bar till late in the night. You talked to Dina for a while longer before leaving to go home, not noticing that a stranger was admiring you from afar.

You got home, took a shower and started to get ready. You wanted to look good tonight, you rarely went out so you might as well put some effort into your outfit.

By the time you got to the bar it was pretty crowded already. Some loud rock music playing. Dina was holding your hand pulling you towards the bar to get some drinks.

She waved the bartender over. “Hi, can I please get two Long Island iced teas?” She yelled over the loud the music. The bartender nodding at her, starting to mix the drinks.

“You’re not planning on getting drunk tonight are you Dina?” You asked.

“Umm of course I’m planning on getting drunk, come on (y/n) it’s Friday night, loosen up a little we’re gonna have a good time!” She was so excited about this night, it was kinda cute.

“Alright, how am I gonna get your drunk ass home if I’m gonna be drunk myself?” You questioned.

“Who says we’re going home tonight?” She smirked at you.

You gasped, “Dina you dirty girl, planning on keeping Jesse some company tonight aren’t you?” Smirking at her.

“Yup and we are going to find you a hot girl to hook up with, trust me you need it when was the last time you had sex anyways?” She asked you.

This girl was really testing you tonight.

“Dina!! I’m perfectly fine alright? Plus if you go home with Jesse tonight, I’ll have the apartment to myself, not having to deal with your drunk ass seems pretty nice to me.”

“That’s exactly why you have to find yourself a girl tonight, apartment is free you can be as loud as you want to.” She winked at you.

“Oh my god, okay whatever.” You gave in knowing it was a lost cause discussing this with her, she would bug you as long as she had to till you’d agree with her.

Just when you got your drinks you saw Jesse coming up behind Dina, motioning for you to not tell her he’s behind her.

He put his hands in front of her eyes, “guess who?” He smiled standing close to her.

Dina started grinning, “ummm is it the weird guy from the café who keeps ordering the grossest drinks ever?” She started teasing him.

She was not wrong about it, Jesse did order the weirdest drinks ever.

“Hey they’re not gross”, Jesse protested.

Coming up from behind her he pulled her into a hug. He turned around also pulling you in for a quick hug, ruffling your hair.

“Hey (y/n), nice seeing you here. I hope you enjoy our music.” He smiled at you.

Smiling back at him, “Hi Jesse, I’m sure I will!”

Wanting to give them some privacy you decided to go sit at one of the free tables close to the stage. You watched the rest of the band setting up some stuff, preparing for the concert. You noticed a girl amongst the other people on the stage, strumming her guitar. She was hot, the way she had half of her hair in a bun, she was wearing a plaid shirt that had the sleeves cut off, showing off a tattoo on her arm. She was definitely your type. You couldn’t help but stare at her, looking her up and down you didn’t realize she catched you staring at her until you looked back at her face, noticing how her eyes were on you now. Your eyes widened, embarrassed about her catching you shamelessly checking her out. She smirked at you, challenging you to keep looking at her. You suddenly felt shy under her gaze not able to look at her anymore you tried distracting yourself with your phone, switching from one app to another. You didn’t even know why you had your phone in your hand, you couldn’t distract yourself not when you could still feel her eyes on you.

Was she actually still looking at you or was your mind playing tricks on you? Looking up to where she was, she was indeed still staring at you. Giving her a shy smile you didn’t notice Dina sitting down next to you. She watched you and the stranger sending literal heart eyes to each other, she started smirking remembering how you just told her minutes ago how you were perfectly fine on your own and now you and the stranger were practically undressing each other with your eyes.

“Hah, look at you eye fucking the singer, didn’t peg you for a groupie (y/n).” Dina laughed at you.

Shocked at Dina’s words you snapped out if it, “Dina!!”. You were embarrassed, not only did the hot girl catch you staring at her Dina did too, she was going to be so annoying about this now.

“I mean, she looks pretty into you too. Guess you won’t be going home alone after all.” She smiled, taking a sip of her drink. She noticed how shy you’ve gotten, deciding to spare you from her teasing right now she told you how they were going to start with the concert now, she took your hand pulling you away from the table and towards the stage, you suddenly got nervous. Noticing how close you’ve gotten to the stage, meaning you were closer to the girl too. Trying to avoid looking at the stage before they start playing you were making small talk with Dina over the loud chattering of all the people that gathered around the stage.

A few minutes later the band finally started playing. Jesse being the drummer, two other guys both with electric guitars, similar to the one the girl had, she was standing at the front fixing the mic before she started singing.

Her voice was just as beautiful as she was. The crowd going wild when the first song started playing. Dina grabbed your hands and started dancing to the music.

You haven’t felt this good in such a long time. The band was amazing and you had so much fun, forgetting everything for a moment. You asked yourself why you didn’t go to concerts more often.

The girl kept staring at you throughout the whole concert, occasionally looking away only to have her eyes back on you a moment later. Smirking and winking at you at certain parts of the lyrics she sang.

You were a mess under her gaze but something about her pulled you in, you were intrigued.

You noticed her flushed cheeks and her face covered in a thin layer of sweat from performing all night.

The concert was coming to an end, currently playing a much slower song, her voice getting a little raspy now. It was raw and beautiful and she looked even prettier now, her eyes currently closed she enjoyed the last song of the night.

When she was done, she said a quick thank you into the mic and the crowd started clapping and whistling for the last time that night. She looked at you one last time before disappearing behind the curtains.

Jesse waved Dina over, motioning her to follow him to the stage room. You started smirking at her.“Go get him tiger.” You laughed when you saw her starting to blush.

“You’re the worst (y/n).” She said. Playfully rolling her eyes at you.

You pushed her towards were Jesse was waiting for her, telling her you were going to get some drinks at the bar. She finally started walking towards him.

Watching how Jesse smiled at her and took her small hand in his much larger one was so cute, you were happy for your best friend. You had to admit Jesse and Dina would make a good pair.

You sat down, ordering yourself another drink. You looked around, noting how it was getting a little less crowded now, some 60s rock playing in the background.

The bartender putting down the drink in front of you, he gave you a small smile and went back to his other costumers.

You took a sip of your drink, feeling someone come up beside you, you realized it was the girl from the band, she ordered herself a whiskey. She turned to you finally seeing you up close, she looked you up and down and sat down on the bar stool next you you. She was bold, you liked that.

You turned to look at her and gave her small smile “hi” you shyly said.

“hey, I’m Ellie.” She confidently said, looking into your eyes.

“I’m (y/n).” God you were so nervous, you don’t remember ever being this nervous before talking to someone.

She smiled at you, “So... did you enjoy yourself tonight?” She asked. Taking a sip from her whiskey.

“Yes! All of the songs you performed tonight were amazing but the last one was definitely my favorite.” You were talking about ‘through the valley’ by Shawn James. You definitely preferred Ellie’s version of the song, loving her voice and the raw emotion she put into it.

“It’s my favorite too.” She added. Her voice was going to be the death of you, it was so raspy right now and she looked so hot. Your palms were getting sweaty, she was making you nervous.

Ellie wasn’t stupid, she saw the effect she had on you and she enjoyed it. She felt the same though, she was just better at controlling her emotions.

She was enamored with you the second she saw you at the café this morning, she knew you didn’t see her but she desperately wanted to ask you out but you left the café before she had the chance too, so seeing you at her concert tonight was a surprise, she was excited to see you here and she had to take a chance and talk to you. Ellie wanted you, bad.

You kept some small talk going but that quickly turned into some flirting from both sides, you noticed how hot it’s suddenly gotten. You needed to splash some water on your face, your cheeks felt like they were on fire. Your skin was so hot, it was just Ellie’s effect on you. This sensation was new to you, you haven’t felt this way before, not even with your ex girlfriend. You excused yourself to the bathroom, telling Ellie you’d be right back. She bit her lip, watching you leave.

You went into the bathroom, splashing some water on your face you looked into the mirror. Telling yourself to get a grip, she was just a girl. No she wasn’t just a girl, she made you nervous. You were totally at her mercy, you didn’t even know her, she was a stranger but she gave you a such comfortable feeling, letting you know you were safe with her. Hearing the door open behind you, you saw Ellie through the mirror. You turned around staring at her as she was slowly making her way towards you. You stared at her. You knew she wasn’t here to make conversation and you were totally fine with that. She was so close to you now, her nose almost touching yours. Feeling her breath on your skin. Your heart started racing. You were looking at her lips, boldly you decided to make the first move, you got closer and brushed your lips against hers, testing the waters. Looking into her eyes, giving her a teasing smile.

She smirked at you, grabbing your face she closed her eyes and smashed her lips against yours. You gasped in her mouth, closing your eyes as well you put your arms around her neck and started kissing her back. You tasted the whiskey she had earlier. Staying like that for a while, kissing each other, her hands left your face, she grabbed you by your waist pulling you even closer to her, her grip was tight. You liked the way she was holding you against her.

Pulling away from each other you were left breathless, Ellie started kissing your neck, teasing you, her hands going lower she grabbed your thighs putting you up on the sink. She got in between your legs, going in for another kiss. This one being more heated, she brushed her tongue on your bottom lip, asking for entrance, which you granted her. She softly put her hands around your throat, squeezing slightly causing you to let out a moan.

She smirked into the kiss. You put your legs around her waist grabbing her face you pulled her closer.

After what felt like forever of making out, she pulled away looking at your disheveled hair and your puffy lips from all the kissing, she gave you a sweet kiss.

Brushing some hair out of your face. “So do you want to...” not even letting her finish “yes” she started grinning at you “my place?” She asked you.

“We can had back to mine, my roommate isn’t home.” You smirked at her

She gave you a devilish smile, “good, we wouldn’t want to wake up your roommate, babe.” She whispered in your ear, giving you another kiss, she grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers she guided you out of the bar.

@twdimagining your wish is my command, here’s the first part to rockstar ellie!! Hope this is what you imagined it like to be!! Second part is going to be a steamy one 👀💕

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

An imagine for adeuce please! They hang out someplace in their hometown during vacation but awkwardly run into crewel. I think treys family bakery would be a nice location but the setting is your choice in case you want to limit the dialogue and number of characters

Ps. I personally feel like the game needs more interactions between the students and teachers. Hopefully we can get more in the new event

Teacher-student interactions are so much fun! We definitely got more from Vargas Camp (which I’m really thankful for), and I hope we keep getting more!

So far, my favorite teacher-student dynamic has been Vargas and Azul. I’d feel bad for octoboi if I wasn’t laughing so hard at his flying fails--

I really liked this prompt, so I wrote more than my usual ~1000 word imagine; please enjoy!

***Mild spoilers for chapter 4!***

Imagine this...

The Rose Kingdom was aptly named for the flowers that bloomed in nearly every corner of its land. In the summer time, they blossomed magnificently, perfuming the warm air with their heady aroma—but in the winter, those delicate rosebuds were banished by a spell of frost. Without fail, a great cold would wash over the region every year, casting their famous red flowers in a thick layer of white.

It was a pattern that the kingdom’s residents had long since grown accustomed to. This was, after all, their beloved home—amid the roses, frozen as they were.

“Oi, Deuce! Hurry it up, will you?!” Ace called, tossing an annoyed glance over his shoulder.

His friend—wearing so many layers that he resembled a moving blueberry more than a human—lagged several paces behind.

Deuce attempted to return the sass, but his words caught in the scarf bound tightly around his mouth, coming out muffled instead. The puffball on his winter hat furiously bobbed up and down, as though communicating his frustration for him.

“If we don’t pick up the pace, they’re gonna sell out of hot chocolate and fresh pastries!” Ace rushed back, grabbed Deuce by the arm, and tugged. “C’mon!! I thought you were in Track and Field Club or something—so let’s get moving!”

Deuce loosened his scarf with his free hand and, glaring at Ace, declared, “No way am I running with the roads this icy. That’s a recipe for disaster.”

“Hah? You serious? I already got wasted enough time waiting for you to dress in your 101 layers of coats,” Ace grumped, gesturing to Deuce’s ridiculous outfit. “It can’t hurt to be a little quicker about it.”

“Mom wanted me to stay warm,” Deuce countered stiffly. “I’m gonna respect that, no matter what.”

Ace rolled his eyes and waves dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, whatever—enough talk, we really gotta get going...!! I’ll be damned if I freeze out here.”

“The Clover Bakery isn’t that far from here, so we don’t need to rush.” Deuce indicated a warm building at the end of the block, which gave off delicious fumes—spun sugar, baked bread, and spices. “Slow and steady wins the race.”

Ace groaned loudly. At this rate, it would take all day for them to waddle on over. He was about to bury his head in his hands when an idea dawned on him.

A mean, but clever, idea.

“Betcha I could make it there faster than you,” Ace chirped, his voice casual.

“It’s not a competition,” Deuce reminded him sternly.

“No one said it was, dummy! I’m just saying I could definitely beat you at your own game.”

“Tough words for someone shaking like a leaf in the cold.”

“Oh yeah?” Ace’s grin was wicked. “Prove me wrong, then.”

“I don’’t have to prove anything. It’d be dangerous to run in this weather, anyway.”

“I bet it’s way more snowy in Pyroxene—and Jack’s probably totally fine with running through it!”

“That’s Jack, and this is me. I said I wasn’t going to rush things, and I meant it.”

“Yeah? Too bad~” The redhead gave an exaggerated sigh and a shrug. “Backing out, huh...? Oh well. Guess if you snooze, you lose...!!”

“Hey, I never said...” Deuce’s voice trailed off, for Ace had shoved by him, darting off in the direction of the bakery. “H-Hey...!! Ace...!! ACE!! GET BACK HERE!!”

He tore after his friend, shouting at him all the while—and Ace, with his (cheating) head start, only laughed in return. Deuce soon caught up (no thanks to his club conditioning), and they were neck-and-neck for first place.

Windchill, knives upon their faces. The biting cold seeped into their lungs, making it hurt to breathe as they hurtled toward their destination. Yet they sailed on, determined to outdo the other.

Both boys launched themselves at the bakery entrance, grasping the handle at the same time.

“EXCUSE US!!” Ace and Deuce yelled in unison, yanking open the door (struggling to cram through the doorway at the same time) and stumbling in.

They were greeted by a blast of warmth and the smells of sweet cakes and toasted breads. The employee manning the counter glanced up, startled at the duo’s sudden appearance. When he saw who it was that had barged in, he sighed and calmly readjusted his glasses.

He looked a little different than usual, wearing a white shirt with green plaid that showed off his broad shoulders. The sleeves were rolled up to reveal thick forearms forged from years of lifting flour sacks and kneading dough. A brown apron was slung over his attire, four-leafed clovers sewn on the pockets.

“If it isn’t Ace and Deuce. How are the two troublemakers of Heartslabyul doing?” Trey asked, his smile lopsided as his underclassmen approached.

“A-Are we really troublemakers in your eyes, Clover-senpai?!”

“I’m just kidding,” he reassured Deuce. “Well, you are troublemakers, but more for Riddle than for me.”

“Geez... thanks for the vote of confidence...” Ace grumbled, casting the third year a cheeky look. “Some senpai you are, huh?”

“Now, now... I’m allowed to have some fun, aren’t I? We’re all ‘off-duty’, so to speak.” Trey said light heartedly. “Anyway, what brings you guys to the Clover Bakery? I’m assuming you’re not dropping by just to say hello.”

“Hehe. Obviously we’re hungry, so we came by for some grub!” Ace held up his index finger. “One large hot chocolate, and a plate of assorted butter cookies for me!”

“I’m okay with a small spiced apple cider,” Deuce chimed in, “please and thank you.”

“Gotcha. I’ll get you your drinks in a bit,” Trey nodded, “but as for the butter cookies, I’m afraid I won’t be able to sell those to you.”

“Huh?” Ace’s face collapsed. “Why not?”

“We’ve only got a few dozen left, and they’re reserved for a client that preordered them. Sorry.” Trey pointed to a neatly wrapped box already set upon the counter, done up in a bright green bow.

Through the plastic window in the box, Ace could see that the cookies had been converted into little sandwiches. Each pair housed a generous dollop of cream, caramelized raisins threaded throughout it.

“What? Who needs that many butter cookies? And why are there gross raisins in them--“

The door to the bakery flung open, summoning a gale of cold once more. A bell suspended above jingled, ringing in a new customer.

“Ah, speak of deville the devil,” Trey said—while his underclassmen balked in terror.

There, in the doorway, was a tall man in black faux leather gloves and a voluminous fur coat—striped, black and white. Beneath that, he boasted a crimson turtle neck and a blazer, half solid white, the other half a black , checkerboard pattern. This, paired with his slicked back hair, steely eyes, and regal face, made him appear as though he had just strutted off the runway, were it not for the leashes he gripped.

Two Dalmatians—one in a blue coat, the other in a red one—stood alert by his feet. They caught Ace and Deuce’s eyes and barked in greeting, but the two boys were far too fixated on the Dalmatians’ owner to gush over dogs.

“Crewel...”

“... Sensei?”

Ace and Deuce glanced to one another, then back at their Alchemy teacher.

“C-CREWEL-SENSEI?!”

“Wh-What’re you doing here?!” Ace demanded, pointing an accusatory finger. “School’s out for winter break...!! You... You didn’t hunt us down to make us do our homework, did you?!”

Crewel snorted. “Spare me your theatrics, Trappola. Your instructors are granted a vacation for the duration of winter break as well. Were you not aware?”

“I-I knew that! I just didn’t know you lived in the Rose Kingdom, too!”

“I thought teachers lived at school...”

“... Seriously, Deuce?!”

“The more you know.” Crewel narrowed his eyes at Ace. “But speaking of homework, I trust you pups are keeping on top of your assignments? Being on break is no excuse to slack on your studies.”

“D-Duh! Of course I haven’t been slacking!” A lie, Ace grimaced, thinking to the piles of homework he had abandoned in his bedroom in favor of hanging out with friends. Whatever, he could just pester his brother for help later. “Right, Deuce? Back me up here!”

“I’ve been diligently studying and working on my homework bit by bit every day, Crewel-sensei!”

“... But have you done it accurately?” Crewel asked, raising an eyebrow. “Simply writing down an answer does not guarantee full marks, Spade.”

“... Errrrrr, okay, maybe I need to work on it a little more.”

“You’ve got your notes and a reliable Science Club member to count on for assistance,” Crewel quipped, gesturing to Trey with a gloved hand. “There is no excuse for why you should not do well. That goes for you as well, Trappola.”

“Y-Yessir!”

“Crewel-sensei, I think that’s enough interrogation,” Trey called, waving for him to come to the counter. Outwardly, he wore a smile, but inwardly, he sighed. For the love of the Great Seven, don’t offer my help for me. “Here, I have your order prepared--oh, but be sure to keep your dogs at the doorway. No pets allowed beyond a certain threshold for health and safety reasons.”

“I am aware, yes.” Crewel’s eyes passed over to the two scared stiff underclassmen. “... Trappola, Spade--come here. Do your professor a favor and tend to my Dalmatians for me.”

“What? You want us to watch your dogs?”

“I’ll do my best, Sensei!!”

“Don’t just blindly agree to it, Deuce!”

“It will only be for a moment,” Crewel insisted, shoving his leashes into Ace and Deuce’s hands. The boys fumbled, but held firm--the Dalmatians eagerly staring up at them.

“... Oi, don’t give me those looks,” Ace grumbled. “You’re... You’re too cute looking and innocent to be Crewel-sensei’s pets.”

The dog in the red coat gave a happy bark, as if pleased with the compliment. Its partner, in the blue coat, panted with delight as Deuce gave it a firm head pat.

Crewel received the box of raisin butter cookies--but allowed his eyes to quickly a scan the glass display case as he strode up. “Do you have dog treats in stock as well?”

“We do.”

“Then add two to my total, please--peanut butter flavor.”

“Alright, you’ve got it.” Trey ducked, retrieved a pair of tongs, and fished out two bone-shaped biscuits. He dropped them into a paper bag and handed them over to his teacher. “That’ll be--”

He was cut off by several bills being fanned out on the counter.

“I’ve ordered enough from your bakery to know the general prices,” Crewel smirked, tucking his wallet away into his massive fur coat. “If there is a discrepancy, you may keep the change.”

“Ah, thanks for that. Hope you and the dogs enjoy--” Trey paused, cut off this time by the sound of several small footsteps from the back room of the bakery. He groaned, already knowing what was coming. “Oh no...”

“Trey-nii!!” A chorus of high-pitched voices piped up, startling Ace and Deuce. “We heard bark-barks!! Did Mr. Fluffy Coat bring back his doggies?”

Three heads of green hair poked above the counter--just barely. One girl and two boys, probably elementary school age, all of them sharing Trey’s mustard yellow eyes.

“Guys, not now. Big bro’s busy with the customers,” Trey warned. He passed an apologetic look to his underclassmen and teacher. “Sorry, my siblings are excitable sometimes.”

“I wanna pet the doggies!”

“I wanna feed’m snackies!”

“I wanna dress them up!”

To the boys’ surprise, Crewel merely chuckled. “No worries. Fellow canine lovers are always welcome.”

“Mr. Fluffy Coat!! Can we feed your doggies?”

“Pretty please with candied violets on top!”

“Please, please, please!!”

Crewel barked with laughter. “Perhaps I can allow it, little ones--permitted that your brother grants his permission.”

All three Clover siblings looked expectantly at their eldest sibling.

Trey heaved a sigh. “... I guess I’ve got no choice. Go ahead.”

Excited squeals filled the interior of the bakery. The Clover siblings nearly tripped over themselves racing over to Crewel’s dogs (they nearly trampled Ace and Deuce’s feet, too).

“Hey, watch it! We’re the ones babysitting these dogs, not you!” Ace cried as the kids descended on the Dalmatians. I’ve only had these dogs for five minutes but if anything happened to them, I’d kill everyone here and then--

“We can share, Ace!”

“Spade is correct. There is plenty of the pups to go around,” Crewel interjected. He produced two dog treats and broke them into smaller pieces, offering them to Ace, Deuce, and the Clover siblings. “Go on, then. One for each of you to feed them.”

The Clovers cheered and eagerly claimed their pieces, holding them out and allowing each Dalmatian to sniff and lick the treats straight out of their palms. As soon as the food was slurped up, the Clovers proceeded to vigorously pet the pups. But the first years hesitated.

“You’re... being awfully nice,” Ace noted, eying him suspiciously. “Are you gonna spring a pop quiz on us as soon as I take the treat?”

“Keep biting the hand that feeds you, and I just might consider it,” Crewel warned with a dark smirk.

“W-We’ll take the treats!” Deuce snatched up two pieces, shoving one into Ace’s hands. “Come on, let’s not worry too much. We’re on winter break, after all. Let’s just relax while we still can.”

“You’re right, you’re right! Let’s not sweat it!”

They exchanged a brief laugh before kneeling and offering up their own dog treat pieces to the Dalmatians. Just as the dogs’ sloppy, wet tongues connected with the boys’ hands, their cell phones went off.

“... Huh? Did you just get a text, Deuce?”

“I think I did. I heard your phone ping too, though. Did you get a text too?”

“I can check. One sec...” With his free hand, Ace fished his phone out of his coat pocket and consulted it. He immediately paled. “Oh, shit.”

(“Hey, language!” Trey shouted--but his protest seemingly went ignored.)

“What’s wrong?” Deuce asked, frowning.

“Check your phone. Check it right now.”

“Is it something seri...” Deuce’s face dropped as soon as he looked at his messages. “Fuck.”

(“I said, language!” Trey tried again, only to be snubbed a second time.)

The distressing text they had received?

SOS SEND HE LP STRAND ED D IN SCAR ABIA CANT GET OUT - Yuu, Grim

Ace and Deuce abruptly stood and bolted toward the exit, much to everyone’s surprise. They paid no mind to the concerned shouts of Trey, nor Crewel, or to the excited barks of Dalmatians no longer held by leashes.

All that remained of where the duo once stood were soggy, half-finished peanut butter dog treats.

[when-they-write-stuff]

SOMETIMES, STILES THOUGHT he understood Derek Hale.

Other times, he thought he never would.

The man was a million things tucked into a leather jacket. Stiles remembered the first time he’d seen Derek in the preserve; scowling, grey-green eyes hard, with an air around him that made younger Stiles a little bit terrified and a little bit intrigued at the same time. And honestly, if he would’ve known then that one meeting would turn into a whirlwind of chaos afterward, the younger version of him might have turned right back around and walked away without thinking twice.

Or maybe he would’ve just grinned. Grinned, knowing that one little meeting with the grumpiest werewolf in Beacon Hills would one day turn into a little bit more. 

If he just had the patience to wait, that is.

But that was then and this was now. Sitting in the loft with the rest of the pack, some rom-com that Lydia had picked out playing on the TV, though most of them were only half paying attention. Scott was all wrapped around Allison, Erica had fallen asleep in Boyd’s lap, and Lydia was scrolling through her phone while Jackson snored at her side. Stiles sat on the floor by himself and watched the TV silently, his brain not even caring what was happening onscreen at the moment.

From somewhere in the kitchen behind all of them, he could hear the faint sound of running water and clinking dishes.

The movie changed scenes— the main couple was kissing. Stiles sighed and pushed himself up.

Isaac made a sound of protest as Stiles accidentally blocked his view, craning his neck to see around. And honestly, the beta seemed to be the only one of them that actually cared about what was happening. Had it been any other time, Stiles might have made fun of him.

But instead, he just rolled his eyes and moved around the couch.

There was a stack of empty pizza boxes on the counter as he entered the kitchen and a line of clean plates next to the sink. Stiles paused in the doorway for a second and stared at Derek literal Hale standing in front of the sink with a towel thrown over his shoulder and an apron wrapped around his hips; a rare sighting of the man without his jacket on.

Then, like a wild animal caught on camera, Derek turned the water off and turned around, giving Stiles an unimpressed look.

“What.”

Stiles hoped his face didn’t look as red as it felt as he snapped out of his thoughts. Forcing himself to just shrug, he moved further into the kitchen and pulled the fridge open, staring unseeingly at the leftovers that he really didn’t care about.

After a long moment of silence, Stiles heard Derek turn the water back on and waited for a few more seconds before stepping back and shutting the fridge again.

“So…” he said, desperately trying not to pay attention to how utterly domestic Derek Hale looked. The man glanced over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow.

“So.”

“Uh. Do you need any help?”

Derek shut off the water again and Stiles noticed for the first time that there weren’t any more dishes left— Derek finished toweling off the last one and gave Stiles a flat look. “No.”

Internally, Stiles cursed himself. “Oh, right. Sorry.”

Derek pressed his lips together, still looking unimpressed. And before he could continue making a fool of himself or Derek could make him feel any more judged, Stiles nodded again and quickly exited the kitchen. Isaac glanced up from the couch as he moved back over, a definite smirk on his lips.

“Nice one, Stilinski. You call that flirting?”

Stiles’s heart skipped at least three beats and he threw a look over his shoulder back toward the kitchen— but all he could hear was the sound of cabinets opening and closing. Derek didn’t seem to have heard the beta.

Clenching his jaw, Stiles gave Isaac the darkest death glare he could muster. “Shut up, Lahey, or I swear to god, will strangle you with your own scarf.”

Isaac smirked wider. “I don’t think Derek would like that very much.”

“I really don’t care what Derek would think.”

“Yeah, we all know that’s not true.”

Stiles glanced over at the others but nobody was even paying their conversation any attention. Well, nobody awake, anyway. Stiles glared back at Isaac, who looked even smugger.

“What, Stilinski? Do you want me to talk a little bit louder?”

“Okay,” Stiles said, shoving himself back up. “You’re an asshole and that’s my cue to leave.”

And just like that, Derek materialized in the doorway of the kitchen. “You’re leaving?”

Stiles blinked at the man, pretty sure his heart had skipped another few beats. Because Derek hadn’t been listening in to any of their conversation, had he? “Uhm, yeah. I’ve got… stuff to do. Important stuff. To do.”

Isaac snorted loudly and then covered it up with the fakest sounding cough Stiles had ever heard. Grinding his teeth together, Stiles reminded himself to throw all of the beta’s scarves into the toilet the next time he came around. 

Derek looked at him for a moment longer before nodding. The man turned around, disappeared back into the kitchen, and Stiles gave Isaac one last furious look.

The beta just smirked and Stiles hated him even more.

Except, as he turned back around to make for the door, Derek came out of the kitchen again. This time, the man approached him with something in his hands.

“Uh,” Stiles froze, blinking at the container that Derek pushed into his hands. He looked down at it, glanced back up at Derek, and then carefully pulled the top off, realizing with a start that it was the rest of the leftover pizza. Blinking again, he gave Derek a confused look. “This is pizza.”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Stiles didn’t know how to react. “You know my dad will eat this the moment I bring it home, right?”

For a moment, Stiles could’ve sworn he caught a touch of red in Derek’s cheeks; the man almost looked flustered. But then Derek just shrugged, turning back away, and Stiles was left gawking at the werewolf’s back.

Isaac made a strange noise from the couch. It sounded a little bit like a strangled groan.

Shaking his head, Stiles shoved the lid back onto the container and threw one more confused glance toward the kitchen before heading for the door. And, leftovers in hand, he honestly didn’t know what to think.

It was times like this he didn’t think he’d ever understand Derek Hale.

-

The night Stiles was stuck out in the preserve with Derek, it was raining.

He figured that sounded about right. They’d all drawn straws to decide who would be on watch for the omega that was running loose around Beacon Hills, and Stiles had immediately drawn the shortest one. And then, just because it was his luck, Deaton called Scott, his watch-buddy, in for an emergency shift.

So Stiles was going to have to go out on his own. But then Derek stepped in.

Which really wasn’t so bad, right? Stiles had been alone with Derek Hale before. Like… literally the first day after they’d met. When Stiles had been driving the near-dead werewolf around for a full day while Scott attempted to infiltrate the Argent’s house.

So yeah, he could handle one night. Easily.

But then they got out in the preserve and it started raining. Stiles thought that would make things a little less enjoyable.

“So,” he said, trying not to shiver as his hoodie stuck to his skin like wet paper. “This is nice.”

Derek shot him a sideways glance, not even looking the least bit bothered by the cold as raindrops rolled right off his leather jacket. And Stiles thought the entire world was unfair sometimes. Running a hand through his hair, he attempted to pull up his hood, but it was already soaked through, doing nothing but making his hair even wetter.

He groaned. “Yeah, this isn’t nice at all.”

To that, Derek paused and looked him up and down. Then the man sighed— like Stiles was the ridiculous one— and stripped off his jacket, shoving it into Stiles’s chest. 

Stiles froze, not even daring to touch it for a second.

“Er, Derek?”

“Put it on,” Derek said, letting go. Stiles barely managed to catch the jacket before it dropped into the mud and he blinked as Derek started forward again, head slightly bowed against the rain. The man’s long-sleeved t-shirt instantly started to stick against his skin.

Stiles stared after the man, looked down at the jacket held tightly in his hands, and then looked back up. Except, Derek wasn’t slowing down and he cursed silently, pulling the thing over his shoulders before hurrying after the man.

The jacket was like a portable heater. Stiles probably could have melted into it if his mind wasn’t spinning so fast, shoving his hands into the warm pockets as he stumbled after Derek.

“Dude, Derek, dude.”

Derek finally paused and turned around, giving him a pained look. Stiles fumbled to a stop and despite everything, wrapped the jacket further around himself. Even as he asked the question,

“Are you sure?”

Derek raised an eyebrow, looking from the jacket to Stiles’s face. Stiles flushed. 

“I mean, if you’re not—”

“There’s nothing out here tonight,” Derek interrupted, turning his gaze to the dark trees around them. “Let’s head back.”

Stiles snapped his mouth closed, staring at the man. But once more, Derek didn’t wait for an answer before starting off in a random direction. Shaking his head, Stiles hurried after him, feet slipping and sliding in the mud.

So, Derek Hale was officially the biggest grumpy-growly weirdo Stiles had met, he decided. One who owned an incredibly warm leather jacket.

He understood that much about the man at least.

-

Sometimes, Stiles hated werewolves.

Mostly, he decided one day, laying in bed feeling like he was dying, he hated them for their stupid immune systems. Because honestly, how was it even fair that the assholes couldn’t get sick?

Stiles didn’t see how that followed nature’s rules in any way.

He, on the other hand, was very capable of getting sick. And approximately two days after his dad came home with a slight cold, Stiles caught the thing so hard, it felt like he’d been hit by a truck.

Sometimes, he hated werewolves. And laying in bed, his head pounding and his nose feeling like it was about to start leaking out his brain, Stiles very nearly considered calling up Derek and taking the bite.

Then, as if his thoughts had somehow summoned the werewolf, Stiles’s window was shoved up and Derek pulled himself through.

Despite everything, Stiles didn’t even have the energy to be startled. A psychotic murderer could have come through the window and he wouldn’t even lift his head to complain. In fact, he’d take a psycho murderer if it meant his headache would stop.

He was pretty sure Derek had frozen the moment the man’s feet touched the carpet, because silence descended over the room for a moment. Then, he blinked up as Derek plodded over to his bed and glanced down at him, brows knitted tightly together.

“Stiles.”

Stiles gazed up at him blearily. Derek sniffed deeply and then drew back, looking repulsed. Which— rude.

“You smell bad.”

Stiles groaned loudly, which turned into a sharp cough, which turned into a minor lung hacking, before pulling his blankets up over his head. “Fuck you too, Derek.”

Once more, the room was silent. After a long moment, Stiles peeked back out again and saw Derek was still watching him with a mildly concerned look on his face. After another long minute of literal staring, Stiles sighed. 

“I haven’t showered in like two days, dude. Stop looking at me like that.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. Stiles groaned again.

“I’m sick, asshole.”

The man’s face finally cleared. Stiles noticed for the first time that Derek had the bestiary in his hands— and there was no way in hell he was doing research right now. But then Derek set the book on his bedside table and tucked his hands into his pockets, looking a little awkward. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“What can I do?”

Stiles blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“What do you need?”

And that was the last response he’d expected to hear from Derek Hale. Ever. “Uhm, nothing? It’s fine. I’m just going to lay here until I wither up and die, but everyone has to go at some point, right?”

To those words, Derek definitely looked concerned. The man’s eyes flashed red for a second and Stiles startled, drawing the blankets further up to his chin.

“That was a joke, Sourwolf.”

But the man just looked at him for another moment before turning back around and heading for the window. Stiles didn’t even have a chance to protest before Derek was pulling himself right back out— and Stiles stared at the empty sill for a moment before sighing heavily.

Stupid sickness immune werewolves. Derek probably thought this was a life or death situation or something.

And honestly, Stiles didn’t expect to see the man again. After all, he smelled bad.

God, he hated werewolves.

His dad had gone back to work that morning and though it had been Stiles’s idea, telling the man he wasn’t five anymore and didn’t need anyone to ‘take care of him’, Stiles still kind of wished he had someone to complain to. Or someone to make him soup. Or even someone to bring him more tissues when he grabbed the last one out of the box.

Because honestly, the very thought of leaving his bed and searching for more seemed like an impossible task. For one bleak moment, Stiles had actually debated using the t-shirt next to his bed.

Then he realized he was losing his mind.

After what felt like a million hours had passed since Derek had left, and Stiles was right on the verge of falling asleep, his window was shoved up again. Stiles snapped right back to reality so fast his headache came back like an avalanche. In that moment, he vowed he was going to murder whoever had just interrupted his sweet, sweet escape into the darkness.

When he could make himself get out of bed, that is.

But then Stiles realized it was Derek. Derek, with a round styrofoam container held in one hand and a grocery bag held from the other. Struggling to sit up, Stiles gave the werewolf an incredulous look, and Derek approached the bed carefully.

The man was still looking at him like he was about to spontaneously combust. 

“I brought soup.”

Stiles just stared.

Derek set the round container on his bedside table and then pulled a spoon out of the plastic bag. Close behind it was a packet of crackers, a box of tissues, and a white bottle of painkillers.

“Boyd said chicken noodle works best,” Derek said, still avoiding Stiles’s blatant stare as he popped the top of the container off. “It should still be hot, so—”

“Derek,” Stiles said, cutting him off. Looking pained, the man finally met his gaze.

“... I also brought crackers.”

“Crackers.”

“For the soup.”

For the soup. Yeah, Stiles had to give it to him; that was a fair answer.

But what?

Before Stiles couldn’t even think of an appropriate reaction to everything that was currently unfolding, Derek was pushing the container of soup into his hands. Instantly, the smell of warmth managed to drift into Stiles’s clogged nose and he almost melted into the mattress, mouth watering.

He hadn’t even realized how hungry he was.

“You brought me soup,” Stiles mumbled, still a little lost in his own head. Derek’s face remained carefully blank and the man nodded once.

“You’re sick.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t actually expect soup—”

Except, Derek didn’t even give him a chance to finish that sentence. Instead, as if dropping off an entire ‘get better now’ cold-care package was all he’d come back to do, the man moved back over to the window. Though still, Derek paused there for a moment, glancing back, and Stiles could’ve sworn his eyes flickered for a moment. The man pressed his lips together, looked like he was going to say something else, and then pulled himself back out.

Stiles gaped in shock at the once more empty window. Because Derek was gone. And this time, Stiles was sure the man was not coming back.

He didn’t even know what to think of the werewolf anymore.

-

Stiles thought it was a little ridiculous how Derek had never learned how to knock.

That’s what he assumed, anyway, when his window was shoved up on a random Friday midnight and Derek the Grumpy Werewolf pulled himself through like he owned the place. Had it been any other weeknight or had Stiles been attempting to sleep, he might have been a little pissed. But as of that night, he was completely procrastinating sleep, and honestly, what use was telling Derek Hale ‘no’ anyway?

The man never knew how to take that for an answer.

Sighing, Stiles paused whatever Youtube video had been playing and half-closed his laptop, giving Derek a raised-eyebrow look.

“Yes, oh alpha of mine?”

For some reason, the man automatically frowned. “You’re still awake.”

And wasn’t that was a creepy way to start the conversation? Stiles blinked and closed his laptop the rest of the way. “Uh, yeah, dude, I am. Now please tell me you weren’t hoping for the opposite because this isn’t Twilight and I own an insane amount of wolfsbane. Just so you know.”

To that, Derek rolled his eyes. “No, Stiles.”

“‘No, Stiles’ what?”

The man just gave him a flat look— but that had been a fair question, okay?

One Stiles clearly wasn’t getting an answer to.

“Okay, then,” he said, raising his hands. “Just be all weird and creepy then, why don’t you? Yes, Sourwolf, I am awake. And no, I don’t plan on going to sleep any time soon. So do you need something?”

Derek hesitated for a moment before pulling something out of his pocket and stepping forward. Stiles sat straighter as the man dropped a set of keys onto his blankets— and automatically balked.

“Are those my car keys?”

Derek shoved his hands into his pockets and looked a little constipated. “Your jeep is parked in the driveway.”

“My jeep is… I’m sorry, what?”

“Parked in the driveway.”

Stiles stared at the man. Then he shoved himself up and stumbled to the window. And sure enough, his jeep was there. A little bit shiny looking, the duct tape no longer wrapped around the driver’s door handle, and wearing what looked like a new set of tires.

Slowly, Stiles turned back around. “Derek, my jeep was at mechanics.”

“Yes.”

Stiles stared. “Because it wouldn’t start.”

“Yes.”

“And it’s been there for three weeks because I couldn’t afford to get it fixed.”

Derek gave Stiles a look that made him feel like the idiot. As if all of this was somehow supposed to make sense. Because…

“Derek, did you pay to have my car fixed?”

The man didn’t answer for a long moment. Stiles took a deep breath, forcing himself not to turn right back around and stare at his jeep for a minute longer. Just to make sure all of this was real.

“Dude, I’m gonna need an answer. That really wasn’t a hard question.”

“... Yes.”

For a moment, all Stiles heard was white noise. Then he stalked forward and shoved a finger into Derek’s chest, but the man didn’t even move. “What do you mean, you fixed my car? Derek! Oh my god, how much did it cost? I’m going to need to get a job to pay you back. No, two jobs. And dip into my college funds. Oh my god!”

Derek finally reacted— by rolling his eyes. “I don’t want you to pay me back.”

“You don’t what ?”

If Stiles was overreacting a little bit, it wasn’t his fault. No, it definitely wasn’t. It was Derek Hale’s fault because apparently, the man thought it was normal to go around paying for people’s car repairments and—

Stiles blinked, staring blankly at the wall beyond Derek’s shoulder. “I’m gonna faint.”

Derek’s eyebrows shot up and he stepped forward; to which Stiles reacted by raising his hands and stumbling back. Ramming into the nearest wall, he closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Nope, nope, nope. Do not get any closer, dude. Don’t take one more step. In fact, I think I’m gonna need a minute.”

“I can go,” Derek said, sounding uncertain. Stiles opened one eye and stared at him. 

“That… might be a good idea.”

And it probably wasn’t. No, it definitely wasn’t. But Stiles didn’t know what to think, he didn’t know how to react, and if Derek stuck around any longer, he might feel the need to throw himself out the window instead of sending the man away through it. And his dad would probably not appreciate that. 

Oh god, how was he going to explain this to his dad?

Derek looked at him for a moment longer, concern still written across his face. But then he just nodded and moved back toward the window. Stiles didn’t even watch the man leave, his attention fully fixed on the set of keys on his bed. His stomach flipped.

Derek Hale had just paid to fix his car. 

Stiles had never not understood the werewolf more.

-

It took a while for Stiles to regain the courage to go back to the loft.

The way things had ended the last time he’d been face to face with Derek Hale, he wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to expect. But stepping through the front door, it was clear almost instantly that nothing had changed.

Somehow, literally nothing had changed.

The betas were all gathered around the couch watching something on TV. Stiles caught what smelled like pancakes and heard the sound of dishes clattering in the kitchen. He stood still for a moment, head-spinning, and then moved toward the noise.

Derek was moving around the room with a towel thrown over his shoulder and a line of clean dishes next to an empty sink. The man’s grey-green eyes took their time drifting to where Stiles stood, gaping, and he just raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t know you were coming by.”

Stiles opened his mouth, then closed it. He had no idea what to say.

There was a stack of pancakes next to the stove.

“Are you hungry?”

And with those words, Stiles finally snapped back to reality. Slipping a hand into his pocket, he gripped his keys tightly and stepped forward, holding Derek’s gaze. Because dammit, all of this was throwing him through a loop and he didn’t know how to react anymore. It was driving him crazy.

“Derek, we need to talk.”

The man’s other brow raised and he crossed his arms; Stiles swallowed hard.

“Somewhere else.”

Because the last thing he wanted was any of the betas listening in to their conversation. Derek studied him for a moment longer before nodding and pulling the towel off his shoulder, dropping it onto the counter. Running his hands nervously through his hair, Stiles followed the man out of the kitchen, toward the loft door.

Isaac was the only one who looked away from the TV. The little bastard was smirking wide and obvious.

Stiles ground his teeth together and followed Derek out of the loft.

He’d kind of expected things to be awkward right from the start when he’d stepped foot in the loft. But Derek was acting like the entire event from a week ago hadn’t even happened. Meanwhile, Stiles could barely even look at his jeep without remembering every last word said.

Out in the hallway, Derek gave Stiles a blank look, his expression not betraying a thing. And, god, Stiles hated that about the werewolf sometimes.

“So,” he said, words sticking to his throat. “Yeah.”

Derek’s brows furrowed. Stiles cursed himself internally, biting down hard on his lower lip.

“Derek, what the hell is going on?”

“What do you mean?”

Stiles gaped at the man before shaking his head. Because he wasn’t imagining these things, dammit. “Uh, what do I mean? Derek!” He rubbed a hand over his face. “My car. The jacket. The constant weird leftovers and that one random time I was sick, you literally brought me soup? Even Scott didn’t bring me soup! And I had been complaining through text to him the entire day.”

Derek’s right eye twitched. The man didn’t say a word. Stiles’s head spun.

“I’m not going crazy,” he said. And he kind of needed to hear that out loud, even if he was the one to say it. “I just… I don’t understand you.”

Derek's face did something strange— maybe he looked a little red. But he didn’t say a word and Stiles hated him a little bit.

“I’m not going crazy, Derek.”

“No,” the man said, something in his expression finally softening. Stiles stared and Derek shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing at the wall over Stiles’s shoulder. “You’re not.”

Stiles swallowed hard, desperately hoping the man wasn’t going to leave him at that. Because he didn’t think he could manage more half explanations. The silence stretched as Derek didn’t say anything for a long moment, and then the man dropped his gaze.

“I… don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“This.”

“I’m gonna need more than that, dude.”

Derek scowled at nothing. The man literally looked constipated now and Stiles might have been a little bit worried if he wasn’t so confused. So damn confused.

“Derek, do what?”

“All of… this! All of this, dammit, Stiles!”

Stiles startled. But before he even had a chance to react, Derek was moving forward. And then there were hands on the sides of his head, desperate lips pressing against his own, and Stiles jolted, nearly yanking back, and then all but melted into the touch.

For a moment Stiles.exe stopped working. His brain officially logged off and his instincts took over, leading Stiles to press right back, kissing Derek as hard as he could. 

And if this was another thing he didn’t understand about Derek Hale, Stiles never wanted to figure the man out.

He kissed Derek hard and hungry. Because how long had he wanted to do this? There was a not-so-little part of him that had imagined kissing Derek Hale. Ever since Stiles had first laid eyes on the man. And okay, maybe he didn’t understand it, maybe he didn’t understand him, but at the same time, maybe Stiles had never wanted anything more. Wanted to know something, know someone, more.

At the rate his thoughts were going, that’s what he clung to anyway.

Derek broke contact first. The man drew back almost as fast as he had moved forward and Stiles was left standing there for a moment, swaying just a little, torn between catching Derek’s lips once more or passing out right where he stood.

But when he met Derek’s gaze, the man looked terrified. The coolness of the werewolf’s expression had finally vanished and Stiles wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Derek’s expression hold so much before.

“Oh,” he said. And yeah, that was the first thing that left his mouth. If possible, Derek’s face paled even more.

“I’m sorry.”

Stiles blinked. Just like that, he didn’t understand a thing about Derek Hale all over again. “You’re… what?”

“I’m sorry,” Derek said, clenching his jaw. “I shouldn’t— I didn’t—”

“Derek.”

The man cut off and looked at him with what could only be called a fragile expression. Stiles swallowed hard, all of it crashing down on him suddenly.

“Derek.”

“Stiles.”

Stiles stared. Derek Hale… god, Derek Hale was an enigma wrapped up in a leather jacket. Every time Stiles thought he was getting close to understanding even the smallest thing about the man, something had to change. Soup on a shitty day or a set of keys dropped onto his mattress. And sometimes Stiles thought he understood Derek Hale. But other times, he thought he never would.

The feel of the kiss still lingered on his lips. Maybe… just maybe he could understand that much. For a moment.

Stiles stepped forward carefully. “You confuse the hell out of me.”

Derek stayed stiff and silent. Reaching out, Stiles brushed the tips of his fingers against the man’s own.

“You’re like a thousand lines of red string, Derek Hale.”

Something flickered in Derek’s eyes. Stiles couldn’t tell if it was confusion or a hint of nervousness. Maybe it was a little bit of both.

Licking his lips, Stiles tilted his chin up and searched the man’s face. “I’m not sure I’ll ever fully understand you.”

This time, Derek looked a little pained. Stiles offered a small smile.

“But I’d like to.”

Grey-green eyes flickered with the faintest hue of red. Stiles closed that last foot of space between them and took Derek’s hands fully, hoping the werewolf couldn’t hear how fast his heart was racing. Because he felt a little lightheaded and a little nauseous— like if this didn’t work out, he might throw up.

Which totally was not sexy at all.

“Derek?”

The man stared at him. The barest hint of color had finally returned to his cheeks. “Stiles.”

“You should totally kiss me again.”

Derek blinked. His expression did something strange. And then it was like the tension had been wiped from his face. In the breath of a moment, warm lips were pressing against Stiles’s again and this time, there was nothing desperate about it. Nothing hard, nothing sudden, nothing rash. The man kissed him warm, careful, and it was kind of like a leather jacket being draped over his shoulders in the cold of the rain.

Stiles smiled against Derek’s lips. Because honestly, there was something about it that just seemed right. And he thought he knew what it all could become. 

He'd like to, at least.

For the moment, though, Stiles kissed the man with just as much hope and decided he understood that much.

[1plus1kiyoomi]

Chapter 8: Actions Speak Louder Than Words

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“Are you sure your grandma won’t mind taking care of Rice today?” You ask Kita as you two go back to your car. He humms, starting the engine of the car. “She’s really nice and down to earth. No wonder why you’re such a good boy.”

“You call me good boy as if I’m Rice,” Kita sighs, and follows the map on the monitor.

“Well, like father like son,” you chuckle and you hear him click his tongue in annoyance.

“Where are we going anyways?” Kita changes the topic, eyes on the road.

“You’ll see when we get there,” you say excitedly.

Kita continues to drive for about 10 more minutes until the navigation devive announces that you two have arrived at your destination. You hop out of the car and Kita follows behind you. You skip going to the elevator of the building, thrilled about the date you planned.

You two arrived in front of the entrance of the store and Kita reads one of the posters posted outside in confusion. “Learn how to bake treats for you and your furry friend...”

“If you wanted to bake, we could have just done it at home,” he tells you as you enter the store.

You sushed him and proceeded to the counter. “I don’t want to do the dishes.”

“Lazy ass,” he mumbles, but you hear, making you kick his calf weakly. You continue to speak with the lady behind the counter to confirm and pay for your reservation.

You have rented the whole place for a time period for the two of you. Since you’ve posted that video with him, fans have been speculated on who he is and are making theories. Being seen in public and risking his privacy are two of the things you least want on your date right now.

“You’ve reserved the whole place this morning, Miss (L/N). And you wanted to make dog treats, and cookies?” The staff confirms with you and you just nod and hand her your card. Kita sighs in disbelief. He didn’t want you to spend so much on your date. “Please come this way.”

She leads you to the kitchen where all baking needs are arranged. It was like the Sugar Rush kitchen but in brighter colors. “You requested for the recipe only tutorial so here is the tablet where you can find all the recipes you’ve requested. Your aprons are here. If you need anything, just press this button and we will assist you.” The staff instructs before leaving you and Kita alone in the kitchen.

Once she’s out of sigh, Kita turns to you. “Isn’t someone supposed to teach us or something?”

You look away, your lips pressed into a pout. “I wanted to spend this time alone with you so I kind of reserved a different type of class,” you explain to him.

He chuckles and messes your hair. “Let’s start baking then. Since you wanted to make a lot today.” He goes at the counter where your aprons are located.

“Can I set up my camera here? Just for documentation. I won’t post it,” you tell him and he nods. You set up the camera and go to the counter as well.

The pink aprons had your names embroidered on it as it’s included in your package. He puts it on without hesitance and hands you yours. While you are trying to tie the back of your apron, Kita approaches you and ties it from in front of you. Basically, he’s hugging you.

He notices your red face and asks you about it. “What’s wrong with you?” You don’t answer him and hold up the tablet to your face. You aggressively look for the first recipe, not able to look at him in embarrassment.

“First, we’re gonna make the sweet potato biscuits. Baby, can you get these ingredients for me? 1/2 cup peanut butter, then sweet potato puree in the same measurement. 4 eggs. 6 cups of whole wheat flour,” you narrate and Kita goes to the shelves to get them for you. You start preparing the ingredients while Kita preheats the oven and cleans the baking trays.

“These are a lot. I don’t think Rice can finish all of these,” Kita states, scrolling through the tablet to check the next recipes you will be following.

“It’s not all for Rice. It’s for the dogs I’m going to adopt.” You start and Kita has his eyebrows raised already from the word dogs. “I’m actually planning to start a foundation on stray and unwanted dogs. I plan to adopt all the dogs in the city compound and provide them a safer and friendlier shelter before they find a home. I found this abandoned land near our place and bought it last week. I’m still looking for someone who can feed and look after the dogs full-time since I’m busy with school.”

You mix the puree, peanut butter, and eggs first. Then, add the flour last. Kita just watches you, admiring you from the side. You sounded so proud and passionate about your plan. His heart beats faster just from the thought of it. He knows how busy you are with school and your work, but you still manage to spare some time in helping these dogs.

“Don’t just look at me, babe. Help me shape these treats,” you complain and he stands next to you. The new pet name causing him to smile for a bit. He starts rolling the dough in silence and you wait for him to finish, the cutter shaped in a dog bone in your hand.

You put the treats in the oven to bake for 13 minutes. While you two wait, you start making the frozen. Your eyes are stuck on the screen, looking for the perfect flavor for Rice. “I think he’ll like the peanut butter and banana more.”

“Nope. Strawberry and mangoes.” Kita disagrees with you.

“I know our son better than you. We’re making the banana and peanut butter,” you argue but he doesn’t give any reactions. “Fine. Let’s make both and see which he likes more later.”

You both start making the dog-friendly frozen yogurt. Your recipe only needed a cup of yogurt, 1/4 cup peanut butter and one mashed banana. ‘It seems edible,’ you think before taking a spoonful and eating it. ‘Weird but not bad.’ Kita catches you on act and he grimaces at what you just did. “It’s human food!”

“We’re making this for a dog,” he rebuts. You take a look at his yogurt mixture, and stretch your arm to his mixing bowl. He moves it away from you but you go after it. He stretches his arm up, holding his bowl in the air. “No. This is for Rice.”

“It’s just yogurt with mangoes and strawberries!” You fold your arms together, glaring at him.

“Are you Rice?” He deadpans so you turn and go back to your area. Kita puts the bowl back on the counter top, looking at you from time to time to make sure you won’t eat from it. He looks at the mixture he made and pokes his spoon in it. He licks the back of the spoon and you see it.

“See! You’re doing it!” You point and try to take a spoon from his bowl again, but he quickly hides it from you. “You’re a meanie!” You stick your tongue out at home and he mirrors your action, annoying you. “It doesn’t matter. Rice will like my frozen yogurt better.”

You hear the oven’s alarm go off so you forget about your little banter and run to the oven. You open it and quickly touch the steel tray, forgetting that it’s hot. You wince in pain and Kita clicks his tongue before going over with oven mitts. He takes the trays out and puts it on the counter to cool.

“Let me see your hand,” he orders you, removing the mitts from his hand and placing it beside the trays.

“It’s fine. It was a quick touch anyways,” you put your hand behind your back but Kita gently grabs your wrist to expose your burnt fingers. He slowly pushes your head back with his finger on your forehead, causing you to giggle because you know what’s about to come. Before he can start to scold you, you beat him to it. “I’m so clumsy and excited. I should be more careful next time.”

He narrows his eyes at you before giving the treats his full attention. Yours is also back on the treats, not minding the uncomfortable burn on your fingers. You don’t want to ruin your date just because you got hurt from your very own actions.

“Try it.” Kita takes one piece and hands it to you. Shaking your head, you for an x using your arms. “Why not? We made this with human food.” He tries to convince you using your own words. Hesitantly, you take the treat from his hand and take a small bite. You spit it out immediately and he starts laughing.

“It tastes awful! It’s like dirt!” You complain, running to the water dispenser at the corner of the room. “I hate you!” You stay away from him, upset.

“Come back here,” he tells you but you shake your head. “I’ll take a bite, too. Just come back here.” You slowly take small steps towards him, a cup of water ready for him. He takes a small bite from the treat and then another one. You gasp in disgust, moving away from him again. “You’re over reacting. It does not taste that bad. It’s actually pretty good.”

You gag from his words and he pulls you back by your wrist. You offer him the cup of water and takes it. “No wonder why Rice likes eating dirt.”

“How do you know what dirt tastes like?” Kita asks you, turning the tables. You chuckle sarcastically before looking at him.

“Oh, you’re changing the topic now, baby?” You give him a sly look and he just shrugs. You leave the treats alone to cool and you two proceed to making the cookies.

The Chocolate Chip Cookie Recipe

Ingredients

227 g unsalted butter, room temperature

1 cup brown sugar

3/4 cup caster sugar (or white sugar)

1 large egg

2 Tbsp water

1 and 1/2 tsp vanilla extract

2 cups flour, sifted

1/2 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp kosher salt

chocolate chips

“Okay so first you cut the butter into smaller pieces and cream it with both of the sugar,” you read the instructions on the tablet. Kita takes a whisk and starts creaming it manually. “You’re not going to use the electric mixer babe?” You look at his arm and his sleeve is tightening on his bicep from whisking. “You know what, stick to what you’re doing. You’ve already started it.” You lean your elbows on the counter, and goggle on his arm muscles. ‘To be held by those arms and chok-.’

“Done. What’s next?” His voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You hurriedly look for the tablet, obviously distracted. ‘She really was just staring at my arms the whole time.’

“Next is to add an egg, water, and the vanilla extract,” you instruct and he follows. You on the other hand, prepare the dry ingredients. You sift the flour, salt and baking soda, creating a fog made of the powders.

“(Y/N),” Kita calls you sternly so you carefully do it this time. Scared, you clean up the dusts of flour on the counter. You give the dry ingredients to Kita and he mixes it together. It’s time to choose to the chocolate chips.

“Milk chocolate.”

“Dark chocolate.”

You competitively stare at each other before Kita grabs both. He puts 1/4 cup of each, but you’re unsatisfied. “More.”

“If I add more this will just become a chocolate chip with cookie,” Kita tells you. You take the jars of chocolate chips and pour more. Kita takes a deep breath in, extending his patience. He mixes the chips with the dough then puts it in the fridge so you’ll stop adding more chocolate to it.

The dog treats have dried so you look for a packaging. You find a cute little paper pouch and decide to use it. You grab a random tape and pen from the stationary station. You sit on one of the stools and put your phone on the counter.

“Baby help me name the dogs.” You request to Kita and he obliges. He sits beside you, very much interested in naming the dogs with you. “So luckily, there are only 20 dogs at the pound. So we need to put three pieces of treats per bag. You put the treats in and I’ll write their names on the bag.”

“Okay,” Kita complies and you scroll through your phone to find the photo album of the dogs. This is one of the times he finds you serious and loves the look on you. He likes you being playful and childish, but he digs this relaxed and composed personality as well.

You show him a picture of a dog, a smile growing on your face. Your smile is infecting him, he can’t hold his in. “She’s cute right? Should we name her Carrot? She has a brother who we should name Pumpkin.”

“You’re naming the dogs after crops?” Kita raises an eyebrow and you nod eagerly. “It’s because of Rice’s name, isn’t it?”

“They’re Rice’s siblings, babe. It’s normal to name them after crops.” You explain, writing the name Carrot on the paper bag. He scoffs, his smile growing even wider. He leans his elbow on the counter, the side of his head on his palm. A strand of hair drapes on your face, so his free hand tucks it on the back of your hair. You eye from the side, his stare and action causing you to turn red.

“We should name the dog Tomato,” he suggests, obviously making fun of your blushing face. “To give tribute to your face right now.”

After baking the cookies and putting them in packages, the two of you head to Osamu’s store for takeout and give him your baked goodies. You then head to his grandmother’s house to pick Rice up.

“Oh, it really is not Ayako,” his grandmother, says and Kita stiffens. “I was wondering why she was acting like a stranger this morning. What’s your name dear?”

“(Y/N),” you say politely, suspicious of Kita’s sudden change in behavior.

“Are you my Shinsuke’s girlfriend?” She asks you and you look at Kita. This will determine your relationship.

“She’s a friend,” Kita answers, breaking your heart. And you thought you were something after that kiss and your date today. “We’re heading out now. I’ll visit you soon. Don’t forget about your checkups, okay?”

Your can’t even think of anything. Kita’s words are repeating in your head like a broken record.

‘She’s a friend.’

‘She’s only a friend.’

‘She’s only my friend.’

‘I’m a friend.’

‘I’m only friend.’

‘I’m only his friend.’

“(Y/N), let’s go,” Kita calls you, Rice already in his arms. You politely bow to his grandmother before following after him. You go back to your car, more quiet than usual. Rice is sleeping on your lap, probably tired from playing with Kita’s grandmother the whole morning. “You’re quiet. What’s wrong?”

“Do you really see me just a friend?” You finally ask, looking out of the window. He puts the gear on parking mode, and his hand goes reaches out to squeeze your cheeks before he makes you face him.

“I only said that because my grandmother watches your videos. If I say yes, she’ll most likely share it to her friends, the nurses and doctors at the hospital, and pretty much anyone she knows,” Kita explains, letting go of your cheeks.

‘You didn’t even answer my question.’ You give up from fighting any further, already tired from baking. You close your eyes and force yourself to sleep so you won’t think about his words. Sleeping the whole ride, you are shock too see that you’re already back to your house.

The three of you enter the house, and head straight to the dining room to eat. After eating, Kita hands you the frozen yogurt he made at the baking studio. “I made another one for you. It’s with your favorite fruits.”

You are still sulking from his words, but you are weak for his actions. You take a clean spoon and start munching on the frozen yogurt. He takes your burnt hand, so you stop eating. He puts your fingers near his lips and he kisses them. You choke on the yogurt, surprised by his move.

“I wanted to do that since a while ago but we were in public,” he tells you, then shifts his body closer to yours. He cups your cheeks and pulls your face close to his. “This, too.” He plants a short kiss on your lips then moves away from. “Get some sleep. You look tired.”

‘Actions speak louder than words, (Y/N). Actions speak louder than words.’

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Facts:

It's important to mix your dry ingredients in the right order, because all of your ingredients are fighting for water.

The absence of sugar in a confection allows flour proteins to create gluten, which is why gluten-free foods contain high amounts of sugar.

Egg yolks contain something called lipids, a special kind of fat that adds color and flavor to cookies.

Cheesecakes date back to Roman times, when mild, milky cheeses got a jolt of sweetness from honey.

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Note: I was supposed to post this chapter 3 hours ago, but I fell asleep watching this ASMR baking video HAHAHAHAHA

Taglist: @vicassa  @ptv-hades @steggy4ever  @booklover240  @toripersonalacc @mkazuyuh  @smoltiddygf  @adrasteiaxandromedaa @leinnah  @a-applepi @kellesvt @xxlightsaberxx  @youpieceofwasabi @bandolls @wheelzzzies @apollochjld @sakusa-simp @neomuxuxi @aquzairus @ynjimenez @sempiternal-amour  @tnu-ree @mindofess @alittlebitofrain @agaashesmilktea​  @ynjimenez @sempiternal-amour @diyosku @dinablossom @atomicpie1115 @lililiynx @onlyshinji @melodiamore @bunnybitesthedust @angrylittleriri @rogueofbullshit @8zmingi @aam1na @yuueisteria @4kaashl  @ohhoneyvee @amberisnotcrazy @kouffee-ink

[songbirdsingingthings]

Hot Cocoa - Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS, THEY BELONG TO KOHEI HORIKOSHI

DAY ONE OF 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS - 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST - MAIN MASTERLIST

With a steaming mug of hot cocoa in one hand and a fluffy blanket in the other, you make your way to the window seat in the common room. There was heavy snowfall outside and the earth looked heavenly - so peaceful. Inside the dorm building, however, was a completely different story.

“No, guys, we should put it over here! That way it’s not really in the way.” Mina said, pointing to the corner of the room.

“But wouldn’t it just be magical if it was in the middle of the room?” Momo said, a dreamy look on her face.

“That would just be annoying to walk around all the time!” Exclaimed Denki, running a hand through his hair. While the rest of the class argued, you noticed a certain blonde make his way over to you.

“Scooch,” Bakugou says bluntly. You oblige, making space for him and opening the blanket for him to crawl under. You take a sip of hot cocoa, but not before you let out a small giggle. Bakugou looks at you with a confused expression. “Well don’t just giggle at me and not tell me what it’s about. Spit it out.” He says.

“Oh it’s nothing,” you say, swirling your beverage around in its mug, “I just would’ve thought you would be at the center of all of this.” You motion to the argument of the tree placement which earns an eye roll from Bakugou.

“I don’t get into fights about stupid shit like that.” He hurumphs, his side sinking closer to yours. “Besides, that looks really good.” He says, eyeing your hot chocolate. You grin at him.

“You wanna make some? I bought too many ingredients at the store, so there’s a lot left over.”

“I have nothing better to do so fine.”

“Okay so I have the milk, cocoa powder, chocolate chips, vanilla extract, whipped cream, sugar, and cinnamon.” You list off, looking at the ingredients in front of you.

“What do you want me to get started on?” Bakugou asks you as he rolls up his sleeves. This image of Katsuki Bakugou was perfect to you. Standing next to you in a kitchen, an apron on and sleeves rolled up - which showed off his toned arms - it was like a dream. “Hey,” he says, snapping his fingers just above your nose, effectively getting your attention. “Don’t go staring off on me, ‘kay?” He says. You give him a nod and a smile, handing him a carton of milk and a measuring cup.

“Can you handle measuring 3 cups of milk?” You say, a teasing glint in your eyes. Bakugou snatches the glass measuring cup from your hand and the milk carton from the other.

“Tch, obviously.” While he was busy measuring, you started to add all of the dry ingredients together. The scent of the cocoa made you smile and you managed to sneak a chocolate chip and pop it in your mouth. Maybe that was a little too premature though.

“Hey, stop eating all the ingredients.” Bakugou says, nudging your hip with his. You laugh a beat at the exchange, but finish your task. 

“Okay, so just pour the milk into the pot and put it over the stove at a medium high heat, and then we’ll put the ingredients in. Waiting for the milk to heat up didn’t take too long, so you add the drops of vanilla extract, slowly pour the dry ingredients in, and mix it. The chocolatey aroma that your concoction produced was divine. You inhale deeply and sigh with happiness, leaning a little bit into Bakugou. Much to your surprise, he wraps one of his arms around your waist, pressing your side snug against his. “This is nice,” You murmur, closing your eyes. Bakugou hums in response and turns off the stove, the hot cocoa now done.

“C’mon, I have a thing for you.” Bakugou mumbles, shaking you a little bit so you open your eyes.

“Oh?” You say, following his footsteps around the corner. Bakugou came back with two little boxes in his hands and placed them on the kitchen island. You look at them and the raggedy little ribbons wrapped around them.

“Well go on and open them, it’s not like they’re gonna open themselves.” He says, huffing and crossing his arms. Carefully you tug the ribbons off and open the tops at the same time. You gasp with delight as you take in the sight before you. Nestled in fake straw were two matching mugs, both white in color. But, right near the handle - which could be easily hidden - were both of your initials engraved in a pretty gold color.

“Oh Katsuki, I love them.” You say, picking up one carefully and cradling it in your hands. This earns a smirk from your boyfriend and he picks up the other one. 

“Yeah, well, I figured since we were having hot chocolate right now I would just give them to you. This isn’t your Christmas present by the way, I just saw them and figured they’d be useful.” Figuring they’d be ‘useful’ was basically Bakugou’s way of saying ‘I saw this and it made me think of you’. You give him a grin and fill up both of your mugs and top them off with whipped cream. You sprinkle a tiny bit of cinnamon on the top of yours and add a few chocolate chips while Bakugou opted to basically dump all of the cinnamon in the little jar on top of his. What can he say, he likes it a little more on the hot side. You finally make your way back to the common room, but no one is there. It seemed that the class had decided to place the tree in Mina’s preferred spot, seeing that it was now sparkling with lights, donned several colored baubles, and boasted a pretty star on top. Bakugou pulls you to the window seat, though, and wraps the both of you in your blanket that you had left there. You nestle into him and watch the snow fall as you sip your hot cocoa. Maybe it was just the fact that Bakugou made it with you, but it seemed to taste ten times better this time around.

“I love you,” you say simply, laying your head back against his broad chest. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew that there was a smile there.

“Love you too, idiot.”

[bakugohoex]

Could I request a jean and s/o birthday thingy my birthday is in a few days and since we're in a lockdown again I can't see my family I read a lot of your writings and they're all awesome it would really make me happy if you could write one for me 🙈

“happy birthday, baby”

pairing: jean kirschtein x female reader

cw: modern AU, fluff, implied nsfw and just pure love

word count: 1600+

a/n: happy birthday to you, hope this request can bring some sort of comfort through lockdown, it’s all a mess right now and lockdown has really fucked us over. this is also an emergency request as it’s a birthday one so i thought i’d do this one now and continue on with my normal request order tomorrow

summary: in which it’s your birthday and jean spends the day celebrating with you

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

This man spends the whole night preparing the living room of your apartment

He will literally sneak out from your shared bed leaving a pillow for you to cuddle and start getting everything from his car.

Lockdown had hit you once again and you were unable to celebrate with your family.

Baby had seen how sad you had looked on the phone with your parents and had begun planning everything from there.

Ordering so much crap and making sure it came the next day, he had to usher you to go on a designated walk whilst he shoved everything into his car.

This boy takes multiple trips in the cold with a mask and hoodie on bringing everything up.

So fucking sweet right.

He even has a cake, which he got icing for and wrote happy birthday Y/n.

Be warned the cake looks shit with the red icing.

A horror scene but he tried.

Balloons every fucking where.

He literally had streamers and balloons with your age on them.

This man is too good (how is reader getting so much shit for their birthday and i had to spend mine at home).

He had everything set up for the day, calling your family to set up a call the next day at the designated time.

This man has it all sorted, the pancakes for the morning, the presents for you, hidden behind the sofa and the special dinner he was going to make for you.

This man is just too good for his own good.

Ofc at the end of the day, he’ll treat himself to some dessert and make you feel so fucking loved.

This man would fuck you so good, like baby boy take a chill pill or you’ll get her pregnant.

He don’t care (breeding kink?).

The sound of muttering made you wake up, the early morning sun hit your face but even then, it was cloudy and cold since January was a cold month. You grabbed the other side waiting to see your boyfriend Jean, but he wasn’t there. A soft yawn coming from your face, you checked your phone seeing the gazillion messages, smiling at all the messages.

You got up, wearing Jean’s shirt that warmed you up a lot more than you had expected. Moving to the bathroom, just as you walked back out Jean noticed you about to move into the living space, “woah, woah, woah, where are you going? Get back into the room.”

Jean had pushed you back into the room, “happy birthday Y/n, yeah...have an amazing day, love you.” You mocked after he had dismissed you back into the room.

Hearing shuffling outside, the doors opened, and Jean came in with the pancakes, “happy birthday, baby.” You smiled seeing him with an apron on and a plate of two pancakes.

“Thank you.” You spoke gleefully moving towards him, you kissed his lips softly, tasting the sugar knowing he probably had some out of hunger.

Sitting you on the bed he let you lean against his frame, putting the pancakes on your lap, “why can’t I go into the living room?”

“It’s a surprise, be patient princess.” He kissed the top of your head, you both eating and talking. It felt like a good start to the day and had already made you feel warm and less empty than you had felt the night before.

“You can’t come in until you wear your best clothes and make yourself even prettier.” He gleamed out having already showered and ready to change himself.

You sign doing as your told, it was quick, and you wore the dress Jean had said he’d liked, the long black sleeve dress covered you up and you wore tights due to the extreme weather and knowing how cold the apartment got in the afternoon.

Jean walked back seeing you, he stood in awe at the door, one hand at the top as he leaned forward admiring you, “you look beautiful, baby.”

“You’re being extra nice.” You snicker standing up and going in front of him.

“It’s your birthday, I’m supposed to be nice.” You laugh going on your tippy toes and giving him a soft peck. “Come on.”

He makes you go in front of him, his rough hands on your face covering your eyes, you directed you, making sure you didn’t bang into anything. Before finally you were both in the living room, the balloons and streamers cascaded down the walls. The gold and pinks filled with love and his emotion, “keep them closed.”

Feeling his hands leave your eyes, you kept your eyes shut but could feel the light from outside. “Okay, open them.” He had a cake in his hands, the balloons and lights being such a pretty sight. The place was filled to the brim, you felt engulphed in love and happiness and the wide smile the boy had on his face, he knew you loved it.

“You…you did this on your own.” You spoke tearily, still partially in shock at how much the boy had done for you.

“It was all to see that pretty smile.” He got the matches lightening the candle before showing the cake in full view. It really did look like a scene out of a horror film with the red hearts looking like splodges and the words being smudged, “make a wish.”

He was scared you might hate him for ruing the cake, but you grinned like a school girl who had fallen in love. Blowing out the yellow fame, you made the wish that would make you and Jean bound together forever. He smiled putting the cake down, grabbing your hand to take you to the sofa. “You have to open it in order.” You nodded as he passed the gifts, there were three in total. A small box, a much larger oddly shaped one and a rectangle shaped one, he pointed to the rectangle and you opened it.

Unwrapping the silver wrapping paper and sticking the bow on your boyfriend, his lip twitched upwards before you saw the gift. It was a frame, with the two of you in it, it was sentimental more than anything. It had been three months into your relationship, and he had invited you to his work event where you met a lot of his friends. One of them being Sasha who insisted on taking a photo for you two, it had been your favourite photo since, so candid and in love it was beautiful.

“I love it.” You cooed ready to kiss and hug him, but he stopped you.

“No hugs or kisses until the last present.” You signed rolling your eyes at the boy who passed the oddly shaped gift. You unwrapped it quicker, wanting to hug your boyfriend so much at how amazing the day was going.

You undid it to be met with a figure from your favourite anime, it was a little plushie that you had seen in town. You had sent the plushie to him months ago and here it was in your hands, he had remembered. It was amazing, beautiful even, the little hands and feet. You wanted to cry even more at what you had gotten it meant a lot that the boy had even remembered such a trivial thing like that.

He passed the final gift, his hands seemed shaky, but you ignored it thinking he was cold. After all it was still icy outside and you knew he must’ve had to hide it in his car and wake up in the early hours to even do something like this. You wrapped the last gift, the smallest of the bunch, his shirt moved due to his heavy breaths, he rubbed the sweat on his trousers from his palms. He was nervous if you’d like something like this if you’d accept a gift so personal.

You opened it, seeing a square box, you looked between the box and Jean, before opening it. Inside a gold necklace sat in the middle, the words Jean dangled in the middle. Your heart stopped, it was pretty, the diamonds on each side, the cursive lettering. It was beautiful, “I know it says my name, but there’s a reason for that.” He watched your expression, fearful you’d think him to have that big of an ego, which he did but not to you, “I know I leave on business trips for days and I want you to know I’ll always still be around you.”

His justification warmed your heart even more than the gift had originally, you passed it to the boy, moving your hair to the side. He smiled putting it around your neck before kissing your exposed shoulder. “I love it, I love you.” You whispered in his ear, you kissed him softly before he brought his arms around your waist bringing you a lot closer onto his body.

Your birthday had started out amazing, and it continued on, with a surprise family call whilst Jean made dinner, showing your gifts which your parents adored. To the meal that Jean prepared as you both sat together under multiple candles, it was romantic something you and Jean had missed out on since the first lockdown had occurred. But here you were with your favourite boy having the best birthday ever. He even washed up, letting your relax surrounded by the balloons and streamers. It really was a magical day.

Even afterwards, letting you cuddle up beside him he gave you one last present, and it was one that would make you so loved, so comforted and definitely unable to walk the next day.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world @chrrylevi @ukaisgratefulwhore @answer-the-sirens @animexholic

[hanoella]

Affettuoso- With Feeling (Part 2)

Pairing: Bucky x Pianist!Reader

Set after the events of TFATWS: In an effort to start over and make a home in Louisiana, Bucky meets a friend of Sam’s who ends up being his landlord. With only a driveway to separate them, he finds that he’s not the only one looking for a fresh start.

Series tags/warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Bucky x Reader, Mentions of Domestic Abuse, Canon Level Violence

Part 2 Word Count: 3.5k

Read Part 1; Read Part 3

Autumn

A few days passed and the temperature had started dropping to one appropriate to fall. Each morning, Bucky had gotten up to exercise. And each morning, he opened his curtains to see that the house across from him remained unchanged. Lights that never turned off. No noise whatsoever. If it weren’t for your car in the driveway, he would’ve thought that no one lived there.

On his runs, he was able to see various things that needed fixing, like a fallen tree that was slightly in the way of a path or a pothole in the driveway he could patch. This morning though, instead of his run, he decided he was going to look around the back of the house, which was fenced off into a yard. From the gate, Bucky could see an old in-ground fire pit in the middle of the yard, closer to the screened in patio of the house than the far end of the yard, where the grass was overgrown- he would have to get on that.

The sound of a vehicle crunching on the gravel driveway caught Bucky’s attention. He walked from the side gate to the front porch where a man in a postal worker’s uniform was straining to get a large box out of the truck. Jogging over, he helped the older man set it down on the ground.

“Phew, thank you kindly sir,” the older man huffed as he took his hat off and wiped the sweat off of his forehead.

After taking a few moments to catch his breath, he walked around the side of the mail truck to grab a tablet from the front seat.

“Can you sign for this package?” He asked as he handed the tablet over to Bucky.

“Uh, sure.”

As he was signing, you came out the front door with a bottle of water in your hand. Bounding down the steps, you handed the cold water to the postal worker.

“Sorry, I would’ve been out earlier but I saw that you were working so hard, so I went back to grab a water for you.”

Bucky handed the tablet back as the older man thanked you.

“I appreciate it, ma’am. Do ya'll need help getting this inside?”

You looked at Bucky who shook his head.

“I think we’ve got it from here.” He said.

“Okay folks. Have a nice day.”

The postal worker turned around and got back in his truck. As the car started to roll forward, he lowered the window and waved while saying,

“It’s nice to see a kind young couple move into this area!”

With the truck halfway down the driveway, there was no chance to correct him. You looked at Bucky, mouth slightly ajar before shrugging it off with a small laugh. He chuckled as he awkwardly scratched the back of his head.

“He seems like a sweet guy.” You said as you watched the truck disappear behind the trees.

“Yeah.”

You stood there for a moment in silence before you spoke.

“So…”

“I’ll help you bring this in.”

“Okay, great, because there was no chance I was going to get this in by myself.”

You watched as Bucky lifted the large box with ease. As he went up the porch steps, you quickly passed him to hold the door open for him.

“I’m pretty sure that’s my bed frame, so you can set it in the room at the end of the hall.”

He turned to head down the hall, being careful to not bump into any walls. Entering the open room, he saw a room with plain white walls and a light sand-colored hardwood floor. Delicate sage green curtains moved ever so slightly as the breeze brought fresh air into the room. There was a mirrored closet with clothes that was cracked open, a small white table close to the ground, some boxes stacked in the corner of the room, and in the middle of the floor was a mattress covered in sheets, blankets, pillows and a laptop paired to some over ear headphones. He set the box down leaning against the wall.

“Ah, sorry about the mess, I haven’t had a chance to really get anything set up.” You say as you pass him to open the curtains wider.

“It’s alright, I’m sorry you had to sleep on the floor.”

“Oh, that’s alright. I still had the mattress so it wasn’t bad.”

Another pause. Bucky cleared his throat.

“Do you want help putting it together?” He asked, gesturing towards the box.

You sighed in response.

“Yeah, actually, I could. I’m sorry to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble.” He replied, seeing you smile tiredly from the corner of his eye.

You grabbed a pair of scissors sitting on the vanity and started opening the box. Once it was open, Bucky pulled out a large fabric cream colored headboard. You tried not to be too impressed at the fact that he pulled it out with one arm, flexing the muscles in ripples. It felt wrong to ogle so you shook your face slightly and dug into the box.

The material of the headboard was similar to canvas, reminiscent of the old cloth bags that flour used to come in when he was a child. As he set it down against the wall, he ran his right hand over the cloth one more time before letting his hand fall off.

The sound of you pulling out the metal parts to the actual bed frame snaps him out of his lull. Setting them down gently on the floor one by one, you attempt to make conversation.

“So, how’s the apartment? Is it okay? Do you need anything?” You asked, trying to hide how slightly out of breath that you were. Bucky walked over to grab the rest of the metal bars out of the box before you could try.

“Yeah, everything’s great. Thanks…”

There’s a lull as you fish the bag of screws and the instructions from the bottom of the box.

“Great. I couldn’t get down here soon enough to check everything myself. The real estate agent took pictures but it’s definitely not the same as laying your eyes on it in person.”

You open up the instructions and Bucky stands awkwardly before deciding to sit on the floor across from you. He leaned back onto his hands and enjoyed the fresh air circulating in the room. The slight chill was nothing compared to all the cold he had faced in his lifetime. That meant he could get by in a short-sleeved shirt and jeans. You, however, were bundled up slightly more. Bucky’s eyes trailed over you slowly as you focused on the instructions. Your hair was tucked back behind your ears in an attempt to keep it out of your eyes as you read, forest green shirt was layered with a cozy open cardigan. The black slim-cut joggers had fuzzy mid-calf socks layered over them to keep any warmth from escaping. Bucky wondered how much more you could possibly layer when the Winter comes and the true cold settles in the area. Before he could think about that, you flip back to the front page of instructions and tentatively spoke.

“Okay, so I think I get it…”

---

The next hour or so consisted of you telling him what parts went together and him screwing them together. It settled into a good flow, with scattered conversation sprinkled in between.

“So, how’re you enjoying Louisiana?” you asked casually as you skimmed over the next set of instructions.

“I haven’t been here long. It’s… different than New York,” he said as he twisted the screw in. At his prompting, you handed him another one. “Everyone’s friendly. It seems like a tight-knit community.”

“They definitely are,” you mused. “Brooklyn, right?”

He looked up at you, causing you to blink and then avert your gaze.

“Sorry,” you started to explain. “I saw the Smithsonian gallery during my last visit to New York… Do you ever have people recognize you?”

“Sometimes,” he said quietly, pausing for a moment before continuing on. “When I do get recognized, it’s not usually the kind of people I’d want to recognize me.”

Bucky thought back to shortly ago in Madripoor. Definitely not the kind of people that he wanted to recognize him. He shook the thought out of his head and continued.

“It’s strange to think that all those people who pass by the exhibit just know me now.”

You reflected on when you saw the exhibit. Right in the middle was a cutout of Bucky Barnes: Captain America’s Right Hand Man. The few paragraphs that were featured at the exhibit did not seem to fully encapsulate the man sitting in front of you, carefully screwing the metal pieces together.

“I think they know about you, but they don’t know you. There has to be more to James Buchanan Barnes than three paragraphs written by someone who’s never actually met you.” You say, meeting his eyes and raising your eyebrows comically.

For some reason, hearing his full name unnerved him. It made him antsy. He didn’t have any experience with being the center of any positive attention, and all of a sudden, your focus on him was scorching. He looked away and cleared his throat.

“Yeah, I suppose so.” He said gruffly.

You smiled gently before looking back down at the instructions to try to put him back at ease. It was funny, watching someone with such a hardened exterior be flustered so easily. There was definitely more to Bucky Barnes than meets the eye.

---

Bucky sat by himself, screwing the last piece in. You had left a few minutes ago to grab refreshments and hadn’t come back yet. He stood, dusting off his hands and pants before stretching his back and looking at the completed project. Picking up the mattress and all the blankets piled on it, he gently set it on the frame. Now it looked like you actually lived here. It was simple, but cozy.

The smell of butter and cheese wafted into the room, grabbing his attention. Looking up at the clock, Bucky realized it was almost noon. He followed the familiar smell to the kitchen where you were cooking, hair tied back and light-yellow apron. The delayed drinks were gathering condensation on the counter behind you. You looked over at him and slipped the apron over your head.

“Ah, sorry. I figured you could handle the last few screws so I started making lunch as well.” You said sheepishly.

“No, it’s fine. Thank you. It’s all done.”

He watched as you took the spatula and lifted a sandwich onto a plate, golden brown from toasting in the butter, matching the plate next to it. You had made the both of you lunch. Taking a knife, you cut the sandwiches in half and hand him the plate with the warm one that had just come out of the pan.

“It’s a grilled ham and cheese. I hope it’s okay.”

“You didn’t have to.” He responded, watching the melted cheese drip down the sides.

You shrugged. “I wanted to. Thanks for the help.”

“Thanks for the food. Do you need help assembling anything else?”

Your gaze flicked to the boxes leaning against the hallway. He looked behind at them and back, raising an eyebrow. Sighing in defeat, you spoke.

“… Yeah. But Sam is actually coming over later to help so you don’t have to do it now. If you do still want to help, you could come over then. I’ll be ordering dinner so you don’t have to worry about cooking. Though, please don’t feel like you have to. You’ve already done so much today.”

Bucky hesitated. He didn’t want to invade your life too much. After all, you were a woman living alone in a new area, the last thing you probably wanted was a strange man turning a contract into a forced friendship because you were polite. But then again, you had just moved down here. Of course, you needed a lot of help in the beginning. Soon, things will settle back to normal and then you’ll be back to just being neighbors who see each other outside occasionally.

“Sure. I’ll be back later when I hear Sam pull up. He doesn’t follow directions anyway so you probably need someone to supervise him.” He joked.

You smiled up at him.

“Great. You must be tired. You can take lunch to go and bring the plate back later.”

You didn’t want to keep him. He wouldn’t have minded staying. But he was still new to being an actual person again. His social battery was a little drained, and he appreciated the easy out.

“Okay, I’ll see you later.” He said, giving his classic low-key three finger salute.

“Bye,” you replied softly as you watched him open the screen door and walk down the porch steps. Lightly padding down the hallway, you peaked into your room, seeing the final product. It was sweet that he put the mattress down and you noticed he had also straightened out the blankets just a little. What a sweet gesture. He was a gentleman. Despite the gruff. You padded back down to the kitchen and sat at the counter to eat. It always felt wrong to make so much noise. You were just one person. One tiny insignificant useless person.

---

Bucky sat at his kitchen table, finishing the sandwich that he had started to eat on the way in. His attempt to eat it while it was still hot was so worth it, the bread still warm and comforting. As he took his last bite, he traced his finger on the little pattern of flowers and leaves on the border of the sage green ceramic plate. All of the little homey, slightly old-fashioned details were very reminiscent of home. Not his previous apartment in Brooklyn. But home back in the 1930’s when he was growing up. It was comforting. He sat back in the chair and closed his eyes, dreaming of a world that no longer existed.

---

Later, Sam knocked on the door way and shouted up the stairs through the screen door.

“Hey, anybody home?”

You bounded down the stairs and unlocked the screen door to let him in, giving him a hug in greeting.

“Woah, woah, don’t make me spill the goods,” he said with a laugh, holding the two cases of beer up.

“Good to see you too,” You joked.

Bucky saw the interaction from the garage window that faced your porch. He wondered if there was something between you two and quickly shook the thought from his head. He wasn’t jealous, just curious. It didn’t matter. After all, you were Sam’s friend first.

People can have friends, idiot. What does it matter to you? He thought to himself as he walked down the stairs to the garage.

Walking across the gravel to your front door, he knocked on the screen door as well.

“Come in!” You yelled from upstairs.

He opened the front door and walked up the stairs into the living room.

“Hey, Buck! How’re you settling in?” Sam said, giving him a hug as well.

“Good, it’s really nice out here.” He replied after they had separated.

“Good. I’m glad. You look like you finally got some rest.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, he was over early this morning, hauling around a bunch of heavy stuff and putting furniture together.” You interjected, bringing the bottle opener in from the kitchen.

“Let me guess, he completely messed it up? Turned your table into a chair or something like that?” Sam teased. Bucky slapped him upside his arm.

“Despite the picture you painted of him, he was extremely competent.” You said while trying not to laugh at Sam’s face of fake hurt. “Now come on, there’s a beer fee, you get one beer for every piece of furniture you put together.”

“I’m the one who brought the drinks though!” Sam protested, following you down the hall to the room where the boxes were.

Bucky smiled a bit as he listened to you both squabble. Friends or not, it was nice to have someone else to annoy Sam with.

---

“You sure you’re okay to go pick up the food?”

You looked up at Bucky from where you sitting on the floor, reading directions while Sam, who was ever so slightly tipsy, was trying to get a leg of a night stand to fit straight.

“Yeah, I’m good. He looks… busy. And it’s probably better for me to go out this late. You know, ‘cuz you’re a woman... lady.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Not to say that you’re not perfectly capable of handling yourself, I just mean… uh…”

“Pff-”

The laugh that Sam had been trying to hold back escaped from between his lips loudly as he covered his mouth. You rolled your eyes but regardless, a smile crept up on your face.

“Ignore him. I was just giving you a hard time. It’s very chivalrous.”

You paused thoughtfully.

“On a serious note, that’s very sweet of you. I appreciate it. You can just charge it to the card I gave you.”

He nodded and started walking down the stairs to the porch.

“Be safe!” He heard you call softly down the stairs.

“Will do.” Bucky instinctively responded.

The screen door shut behind him as he made his way across the driveway to where his own motorcycle was parked. A sleek modern black sports bike. Something he’d bought when he wasn’t ready to look at Steve’s old cruiser. He’d put the cruiser in the garage to work on and keep safe.

He mounted the bike and started it, the engine coming to life. He went to check what time it was on his phone when he realized he had left it inside. Swinging his leg over, he started to walk back up to the front door when he heard your conversation with Sam from the open living room window.

“Feeling at home?” Sam asked. There was a short silence before you answered hesitantly.

“Something like that.”

“How you holding up?”

“It’s been okay… lonely… I just can’t believe I let it go on for so long.”

Bucky hadn’t realized he had stopped in his tracks, eyebrows furrowed as he listened.

“The people who are trapped in the abusive relationship themselves always have a harder time seeing it than anyone else.”

Bucky blinked in surprise as Sam continued.

“It’s like that thing they say when you’re cooking with frogs. If the water’s boiling when you first put them in, they’ll hop right out the pot. But if you put the frog in cool water and slowly heat it up, they’ll stay, no matter how hot it gets. The more gradual the process is, the less likely they are to realize that they’re in trouble before it’s too late.”

“Yeah…” Your voice sounded heavy. Burdened.

“He was nice at first, wasn’t he?” You asked rhetorically.

“He was.”

“Fooled me…”

“Fooled me too. I never would’ve introduced him to you if I had known that’s what he was like. I should’ve known there was something off about him. I should’ve sensed it during the support group he came to at the VA.” Sam said regretfully.

“Hey, it’s not your fault, Sam.” You said, chastising him. “At some point, I knew that things were heading in the wrong direction. He got so angry. So spiteful. I knew I had stopped loving him and started being afraid of him. But then everyone was dusted, and I didn’t have anywhere else to be, anyone else to be with besides him. Being somewhere new by myself would bring struggles I couldn’t prepare for. At least with him, I knew what to be afraid of. Then everyone came back and he almost killed me. I guess I was just a poor little froggy.”

You tried to ease the heaviness of the conversation by being lighthearted with the last sentence. But there was still a sadness in your voice.

“Still. I wish I could’ve helped you when you broke your shoulder.”

“Don’t feel bad, Sammy. I ended up just fine. I’m here now. The only thing I regret is letting him trash my piano. It was old, but I grew up playing that thing.”

“I know how much it meant to you.”

“It’s okay, it's a new start. Besides, you were off fighting to be Captain America! Rightfully so. If this was the sacrifice I had to make for the right man to be able to take up the shield, I would’ve broken my other shoulder too!”

Sam must have given you a death glare because you laughed suddenly and your tone changed to defensive.

“Kidding! Kidding. Yeesh. But seriously, I’m proud of you. And thank you, for helping me start over.”

Bucky unclenched his hands. He hadn’t realized that he had gotten tense. Turning around, he headed back to the bike. He didn’t need his phone. He didn't want to let on that he overheard. Getting back on the bike, he waited until he heard laughter to sneak down the driveway, masking the fact that he was just now leaving.

Once he got out on the road, he sped up- letting the wind sting against his face and cool it down. The thought of a man using his own strength to hurt what was supposed to be his other half- it made him so mad. No wonder you were scrambling to get out here. He hoped that you never had to go through anything like that again.

Rest assured, if he can do anything to prevent that from happening, he will.