#i could literally crumble him up and turn him into cake mix. what the hell

[ohh-fiddlesticks]

how is he even real

[vexillumalbum]

MLQC boys being interrupted while having sex w/Reader

I think the title is pretty self-explanatory. 

All I want to say is that I wrote it long ago so there might be some mistakes. Also please bear in mind that English is not my native language. Thank you! I hope you'll enjoy!

NSFW below!

Gavin

The orange rays of the setting sun warmed the naked skin of your back pleasantly from behind the windows. Your boyfriend's white button-up casually framed your waist, barely clinging to your forearms, previously sliding off your shoulders. You had to hold it with your hands to keep it from sliding completely off. 

In fact, in that position, Gavin had a perfect view of your bare curves, with the shirt or without it. 

He was lying on his back facing you, propped up on pillows with his arms behind his head. His watchful gaze never left your body, even for a moment. His amber eyes scanned your figure, gliding over your perky breasts, smooth skin glazed in orange and silky strands of hair dancing near your neck and collarbones with your every move. 

He licked his lips.

“Come here.” It wasn’t an order, but also not a plea. It sounded more like a request of a man so in love with his girl that he couldn’t bear not touching her anymore. 

You giggled - and Gavin could’ve sworn it was the prettiest sound in the whole universe - before wrapping your fingers around his outstretched hand, letting yourself be guided to his solid body. 

Minutes later you were a moaning mess, your hips pinned to the mattress by two calloused hands, the devilish sounds coming from between your legs mixing with heavenly whimpers of your boyfriend’s name that were leaving your bruised lips. 

The grip you had on Gavin’s hair tightened when he sucked on your clit in time with his fingers working magic inside your heat. In response you heard a growl as his hips started assaulting the mattress even faster. The beast has been awoken

Tingling on your skin came as a warning for the pleasure that was supposed to arrive next. Your muscles were squeezing Gavin’s fingers hard and he couldn’t wait for his cock to be enveloped by your wet warmth next. Heels dug into the mattress, fingers gripping white sheets, head thrown back with parted lips and ragged breath and—

Thump thump thump

“Are you guys okay in there?!” Minor’s concerned voice sounded from outside of the bedroom right after knocking. It startled you to the point where you jumped up, covering your bare figure with anything you could reach for, even though you were sure the doors were closed and the intruder wasn’t able to come inside the room. “I’ve heard some weird noises and I thought I’d check on you! You know, better safe than sorry!”

Gavin immediately looked over you, checking if you were alright, before turning his head to the door with a look that could kill. He palmed himself through his boxers, his erection still evident and painful. 

“We’re alright! Thanks, Minor.” After a brief moment of silence you managed to say, not knowing if you should laugh or cry or maybe both. You heard a quiet “okay” and some shuffling - the intruder left the area.

In a moment of passion both you and Gavin had forgotten that Minor was temporarily living in your apartment due to AC disfunction at his place. He wasn’t a perfect roommate but at the same his presence wasn’t overbearing and you didn’t have any complaints… up until now.

“I’ll beat him up.” Through clenched teeth Gavin’s voice was low as he was putting on some shorts he took out of the drawers, and he now resembled the Super-Scary-Officer-Gavin more  than Your-Loving-And-Doting-Boyfriend-Gavin. 

“Don’t be so harsh on him. He was concerned.” You giggled only to be met with a doubting look from your boyfriend. “As he said, better safe than sorry.”

“I’ll give him something to be sorry about.” Poor Minor

Victor

The last few weeks have been pure torture. You were very open about how much you hated these business trips that both you and Victor had to take all the time to different places in the world. Your boyfriend was less outspoken, however the days of longing were taking its toll on him as much as on you. Sleepless nights, lonely dinners, unfulfilled lust…

Therefore, when there were no meetings, reports and proposals to write or filming sites to visit on the horizon, you jumped almost literally at the opportunity and took Victor to the wellness center. 

It was a pleasant evening, the sun had recently set, but the heat was still there, aligned from time to time by the cool breeze. The white bathrobe your only cover as you and Victor relaxed on the private terrace of the apartment, with the sound of the bubbling jacuzzi in the background.

Sitting in his lap, your boyfriend was caressing your bare thigh with one of his hands, while the other was stroking your hair. It was an intimate moment shared between two lovers finally reunited and ready to spend some much needed relaxing time together. 

Until…

It started as an innocent kiss between sips of fine dry wine selected by Victor himself.

He had you almost fully naked on his lap, with your robe slipping down your back, threading fingers in your silky strands and tasting your lips - which he had to admit - were even tastier than his favorite crimson beverage.  

You were determined to get him naked, to free these gorgeous muscles from beneath the soft robe. With your nails scraping his skin lightly you were revealing more and more of his toned body earning sweet sighs from Victor as a reward. 

His skilled fingers moved from your hair to kneading your butt, making your already wet pussy to rub on his clothed hard length. The added friction was like a cherry on top of the whole make out session but you didn’t want to stop there. Why would you settle for just a cake when you can have a full four course meal, right?

“Victor, I need it, please.” You begged when he didn’t want to give you what you wanted well knowing what was it that you desired. 

“What is it, babygirl?” His question was whispered into the damp skin of your neck where Victor was leaving love bites. “Tell me what you need. You know I’ll give you everything.” He sounded so seductive, his low voice was making you shiver and you were sure your pussy was getting wetter and wetter with every word he said. “Just say it.”

“You.” You crumbled. “I want your cock. Please.”

He fulfilled his promise a few seconds later when you felt his girth stretching you out in the best way possible. Victor gripped your hips and with a look that was telling you to prepare for a ride, he started thrusting up while roughly bringing you down on his cock over and over. 

You gripped his shoulders with one hand while the other was clamped over your mouth to make sure no-one could hear the moans your boyfriend was bringing out of you.

So close, you were co close, and when his thumb pressed on your clit, you could swear you saw stars and—

Bzzt bzzt bzzt

You jumped at the sudden sound, fear taking place of lust and passion. With a quick look to the side you saw that Victor’s phone was ringing and the caller’s ID was “Financial Director”. Thinking it was important you exited his lap, sliding to the next chair. 

A low growl escaped him when you pulled away, his member still as hard as ever. His furrowed brows were the indicator of how much he didn’t like what you did, but you only smiled to him sheepishly and gestured to his phone. 

A part of him was impressed of how much you valued his work and that you knew how important it was. Yet, the other part was furious that your love making fucking got interrupted. 

He took a second or two or more who knows if he stopped time to admire your rosy cheeks and bruised lips and how you were panting after minutes of passion, before picking up his phone from the table and answering the call.

“Be quick.” The tone of his voice so much different than when he was talking to you, eyes narrowed and teeth clenched - he was mad. But that didn’t stop him from giving you a look that you could only describe one way: I’m not done with you yet.

Shaw

At times like this, you were immensely grateful for the almost deafening music that could be heard in the Live House all the time. 

Usually, it annoyed you that the rumble from the speakers drowned out any other noises - like when you were talking to others, but now you liked that you had the freedom to moan as Shaw's hips were pounding into you to the rhythm of the club song. 

Hands clutching his muscular arms, head tilted back repeatedly hitting the wall behind you, you were braced for a wild ride. Your boyfriend's hands tightly squeezing your ass supporting your weight, his hot lips nibbling at your neck marking you in every place he had access to, his cock driving into you with a reckless abandon.

And all of this caused by your short dress that showed a little too much skin in Shaw’s opinion (and he would never have thought that something like “too much skin showing” would be a problem for him but seeing every guy in the club eyeing you had his blood boiling) and your teasing ways.

During the break between songs, when Shaw had a chance to rehydrate himself for another hour on stage, your boyfriend decided to satisfy a different type of thirst. For your pussy

Sex with Shaw was always fun and wild and everything you ever wanted. But it was the best when he was hot and bothered and when envy was seeping through his body like a venom making him see red.

To be honest, you weren’t surprised when he grabbed your wrist right after exiting the stage and pulled you into the back room. You weren’t surprised when he pinned you to the wall, his lips already marking your collarbone as his hands were skillfully pushing your panties aside. You weren’t surprised when he unzipped his pants and pushed them down, freeing his hard cock.

And you sure as hell weren’t surprised when he slid into you with one sharp thrust while sucking on the sensitive skin below your ear.

“Tell me,” he panted in between the thrusts while his tongue was exploring your neck. “Do you enjoy making me jealous? Do you think it’s funny or something?”

As you were able to only whimper and moan, you didn’t respond. Of course you were enjoying making him jealous once in a while, especially when you were rewarded with his hips snapping into your in the back room of Live House.

“Answer. Me.” You swore he wanted to kill you with how intensely he was impaling you on his cock.

“Yes! Yes oh god yes!” You managed to choke out right before his fingers pinched your clit. Loud scream elected from your throat and you didn’t fail to notice the smirk Shaw was having plastered to his handsome face.

“Let me make this clear, baby.” He slowed a little as he leaned into you to have his mouth right next to your ear. “You are mine. Only mine.”

You wanted to respond. Say something, anything, but then—

“Shaw! We’re going back on the stage!” 

Adam’s voice broke through the music and your pants along with a few pound knocks. You jumped at the sudden intruder, your eyes wide and lips parted. 

Shaw on the other hand was totally unfazed when he started thrusting into you with a full speed again. And again. And again. And again. 

He didn’t even say anything back, he just went straight back into fucking your brains out.

“I told you, you’re mine.” He murmured into your sweaty skin when he saw how startled you were. “So focus on me and only me.”

Lucien

You liked surprising your boyfriend. For example when you visited him at the university with some tasty lunch and a big smile plastered to your face, or when you learned how to brew tea so you could make him the best beverages when he was particularly stressed with work, or when you memorized all scientific names of his favorite butterflies to feel closer to him through joined hobby…

Or when he came back to his office at the Research Center after a tiring laboratory work only to find you wearing very skimpy purple lingerie and his lab coat, sitting in his chair with a smug grin and a twinkle of mischief in your eyes.

Part of him wanted to chide you for being reckless like that. After all, he would as much as kill, without even batting an eye, anyone who stumbled into his office with you being inside looking like that. 

But other part of him the freaky part already imagined taking you in various positions, against different surfaces during his whole lunch break. 

And so he started with face-fucking you on his desk, while pinning you to the mahogany wood with one hand as the other was palming himself through his trousers. Your panties torn and long forgotten on the floor, the lab coat loosely hugging your form with your legs wrapped around Lucien’s shoulders and hands grabbing his hair tightly. 

This man’s mouth could not only recite poetry and name every flower in the garden, but also it was able to make you cum in a record time. You had to bit your lip very very hard to control the volume of your moans.

Your second orgasm was delivered to you by the scientist’s long nibble fingers exploring your warm sensitive flesh like his life depended on it. And in a way it did, because you were the sole purpose of his existence and making you feel good was his mission, so…

Lucien was preparing you for the third one, when you decided that enough is enough. After all, you came there to make him feel good, not the other way around. 

So before your boyfriend could react you pushed him onto his chair and dropped to your knees with a grin, and when he stubbornly wanted to got up again, you batted your eyelashes a few times as you stroked his member through the fabric. He got the message and relaxed into the seat. But don’t be fooled, he was still in control.

“Such a good girl.” He praised you when you were undoing his belt. He gripped your hair guiding your face closer to his crotch.

You’ve given Lucien a blowjob so many times already, you knew exactly what to do. You licked, sucked, bobbed your head and massaged with your hands what you couldn’t fit into your mouth. 

Every sigh from the professor was making you shiver so you worked even harder to hear more of them until—

Knock knock knock

“Professor, excuse me…” From behind the door the head of one of Lucien’s assistants peeked out and before you could do anything he saw the position you and your boyfriend were in and immediately panicked. “Oh my— I’m—I’m so sorry!” 

He was long gone before you could even pull away from Lucien, but you didn’t miss the murderous stare professor had while looking at now - fortunately - closed door. You didn’t know if you should laugh or collapse into the ground from embarrassment. 

You were sure your face was redder than a tomato. Luckily, knowing Lucien’s reputation no-one would be so stupid to tell anyone about this situation. Or so you hoped so.

Before you decided on your final reaction to the intruder, Lucien’s palm grabbed a handful of your hair and he brought your head closer again so that your nose was brushing his hard moist cock. 

“I believe we have some unfinished business here, butterfly.”

Weirdly, you never saw this assistant in the Research Center ever again…

Kiro 

Kiro loved music almost as much as he loved you and his snacks.

So he was taking every opportunity he could to show you around his studio, write music with you and compose. 

And do other, less appropriate deeds.

For the longest time Sunshine Boy couldn’t find inspiration for his newest song. He tossed and turned in his bed every night and skipped meals because of it. He didn’t want to disappoint his fans and you, his greatest biggest fan!

But only if he knew that bringing you with him to the studio would be the cure for his lack of inspiration, he would’ve done it already days ago. Why didn’t he think of it sooner? You were his muse after all! Your moans were the greatest music to his ears!

So that’s how you ended up with Kiro pounding into you from behind tightly gripping your hair to guide your head nearer to the microphone so that every one of your whimpers could be recorded properly. 

The speed of his thrust was setting a rhythm that he wanted his new song to be in which gave him a plethora of sounds escaping your mouth. Oh how much he loved those sounds.

Gripping your hips he angled you a little more so that he could go even deeper, take you even better. He was sure he was leaving bruises on your skin with the force of his grip, but he didn’t care. He would smother them with kisses later. 

“More, Miss Chips. I wanna hear you more.” He murmured as his hand circled your waist and his fingertips pressed onto your swollen clit. If you didn’t know better, you would think that he wanted to kill you from the sheer amount of pleasure he was causing you. 

Your moans were getting higher and higher and Kiro knew it was because you were getting closer to your release. He loved that moment, right before your orgasm when your muscles were clasping around his cock trying to milk him from everything that he had, and your eyes were rolling onto the back of your head and you legs were shaking like leaves on a windy day and—

Bam bam bam

“Kiro, what are you doing in there?! Our recording session starts soon!” Savin’s voice sounded from the other side of the door and Kiro cursed under his breath that he was interrupting his own recording session.

You on the other hand squealed and tried to move away from your boyfriend but he didn’t let you.

He slowed down his thrusts and clamped a hand over your mouth.

“We’ll be there in a minute!” Kiro answered but his agent didn’t seem to be convinced because he insisted on waiting for you two at the door.

When you wanted to move away again, disappointed that you wouldn’t be getting the realest that you wanted, Kiro brought you closer to himself again and started snapping his hips into your once again. His hand still clamped tightly over your mouth. 

“Well, maybe our recording is over but we can at least finish this.”

____________________________________________________

thank you so much for reading!

if you want to read more of my works they are here

[bouncyirwin]

So after reading Knock Knock, Let the Devil in again (I can’t praise you enough with how good that story is ♥️) and I’m so invested in the the dynamic between Shikamaru, Sakura, and Kakashi!

And because I have a question (and I hope I’m not bothering you by asking this 😭) how do you think Kakashi and Shikamaru would react if Sakura either came back from a mission seriously injured or if they found her seriously injured from a mission?

Hiii, thank you so much for this ask, I’m always so ready to gush about these three!

When I read this ask, inspiration quite literally slammed into me and I churned this out in a sprint session. Oops.

Word Count: 2,126 words

I present to you a one-shot in the knock knock-verse.

It was too early in the day to function, yet Shikamaru was in the Hokage’s office bustling about, feeling only half-human as he guzzled on his third coffee. “Fuckin’ paperwork,” he muttered disdainfully at the sight of an ungodly pile marked with his name.

That had to violate some natural law. How this became Shikamaru’s routine was beyond him.

Once upon a time, he professed that his deepest wish was to lead a mediocre life. And here he was.

Tsunade showed up ten minutes late, visibly drunk and doing very little to conceal it. “Morning,” she tossed over her shoulder and made a beeline for the coffee machine.

“Hokage-sama,” Shikamaru said, studying the dark circles under her eyes and her ashen pallor. “You look …”

He clamped his mouth shut. Was it worth getting assigned a D-rank to let her know she looked like shit? Probably not.

“Save it kid, I know,” she waved a casual hand and slumped in her chair. “Couldn’t care less with the night I pulled.”

“Drinking again, Hokage-sama?” he inquired with polite interest.

“Ha,” she said. “I wish.”

When he raised an eyebrow, she elaborated, slumping even further in her chair. “Sakura,” she pinched the bridge of her nose. “They brought her back yesterday.”

Shikamaru’s heart sank. “Brought her back?”

“Yes, there was an ambush and she was badly injured—cracked every one of her ribs, that idiot. And the hospital was out of B-positive blood so Shizune had to sit the healing session out to donate blood. Nearly ran myself dry trying to keep her breathing…” Tsunade was scrubbing at her face but Shikamaru wasn’t listening anymore—he could barely hear her over the deafening roar of his heartbeat.

“Is she alive?” he demanded once he found his voice. “Is she going to be okay?”

“Yes, but she’s going to need plenty of rest—” the rest of her sentence remained a mystery for Shikamaru tore out of the room with a single-minded focus.

In the space between heartbeats, rationality was tossed out of the window. It left behind a desperate and half-crazed person—he needed to see her, to hear her heartbeat, to see the lively green of her eyes and he wasn’t going to rest until it happened.

He burst through the hospital doors undoubtedly looking like he’d escaped an asylum. The nurse he cornered shot him a bewildered look. “Sir, are you—” she began to say when he cut her off.

“Haruno Sakura,” he demanded breathlessly. “Her room. Where can I find her?”

“Sir,” she attempted again, sounding a little exasperated. “Haruno-san just underwent extensive surgery, she’s not allowed visitors, only family members can see her.”

Shikamaru pinned her with a no-nonsense look. “Akane-san,” he read off her name tag. “By order of the Hokage, I’m here to see Haruno Sakura.”

Akane shuffled nervously. “Do you have an official slip?”

He arched an eyebrow at her, as if to say ‘really?’.

“I-I might get in trouble,” her eyes shifted unsurely. “I need to put you down as a relative and you’re… what would I mark you down as, sir?”

It occurred to him a second later that he was being a total ass. But rationality had already fled. He was now a mess of frayed nerves.

The toddler bawling in the background wasn’t helping his case, and neither was the frantic husband demanding to see his wife at the reception, babbling about … oh.

Shikamaru turned back to the nurse, and before he realised what he was saying, he blurted. “Her husband. Mark me down as her husband.”

Akane blinked. “Oh.”

Shikamaru stared her down, daring her to argue with him. But she simply nodded and scribbled something on her chart. “Right. Of course. Follow me.”

As they stalked through clinical hallways, Shikamaru’s heart rose in a crescendo, worry and nervousness swirling in his chest in a toxic mix. What would he see upon reaching her room? Was she in pain? Was she even lucid? Gods, what if she was in a coma? What if she’d hurt herself so irreparably that it cost her career?

His mind raced with sickly thoughts until his stomach roiled and his face tinged green.

Akane stopped at room 217 and there she was.

“Oh gods,” Shikamaru whispered.

She was hooked to so many wires. Oxygen tubes and an IV and a heart monitor and tubes he didn’t even recognise. She looked frail and broken, too small amidst white sheets and beeping monitors.

He heard Akane quietly slip out of the room and was glad for it because his knees nearly buckled.

Sakura wasn’t awake. Hell, she didn’t even look alive, her face so pale where it wasn’t bruised blue and purple.

Numbly, his feet carried him to her side, his breath a short and rapid thing that barely saturated his lungs.

There was blood caked beneath her fingernails and in the cracks of her lips. His eyes stung faintly as they slid over to the heart monitor.

It was too slow.

“Oh god,” he said again, every cell in his body congested with fear.

He was afraid to even reach out and touch her, lest she broke apart under his fingertips. Delicately, ever so delicately and with trembling fingers, he ghosted a light stroke across the apple of her cheek.

“Sakura…” he said feebly, wishing her eyes would just open.

Except they didn’t. And her heart monitor droned on sluggishly in the background, crawling heartbeats that served more in adding to his anxiety than diminishing it.

It was beating. But it wasn't beating enough. What if it stopped beating?

Shikamaru wasn’t prepared. She wasn’t allowed to die. Not yet. Not ever. He didn’t care what laws governed this cursed world, this was Sakura, she was spring incarnated, and she wasn’t allowed to die.

His fingers curled around her hand, and he wished for the first time in his life that he could heal. That he could bleed strength into her the way she did to him.

It was getting difficult to breathe. What if she died?

What then?

Fuck, he hadn’t even told her he loved her.

His vision swam, rendering the room a splash of colours and pink. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t breathe.

In the muddled daze of anxieties and fears, Shikamaru wished he had the foresight to grab Kakashi.

He’d never needed an anchor more than he did in that second.

*

Kakashi was having an incredibly shitty day.

His coffee machine broke down, he spilled tea over his mission report and he mixed a black shirt with his coloured laundry and now half of his clothes were beyond repair.

“Dammit,” he sighed, tossing his book aside. He couldn’t even read, busy as he was dwelling on his ruined laundry.

He took one dispassionate look at his soggy report and groaned. “What a mess,” he’d actually attempted to do this one on time. Served him right for breaking his routine.

Kakashi grabbed his weapons holster and stepped out for some much needed air. Maybe he should just turn in a tea-flavoured report—perhaps if he offered Tsuande a bottle of sake she’d make an exception and accept it.

He made a beeline to her office, remembering he was due for a debrief. But what he found upon his arrival wasn’t what he expected.

Tsunade was shouting to Shizune, clearly exasperated: “—and he just upped and left! I’m his Hokage, and he upped and left!”

“Maah…” Kakashi began unsurely.

Tsunade’s gaze cut to him. “Hatake, there you are,” she huffed. “I’m too fucking hungover for this. We’re one man down, I need someone to look over these reports.”

Kakashi frowned, finally noticing how empty her office looked. “Where’s Shikamaru…?”

“The idiot left,” Tsunade growled, raising goosebumps on his arms. “I told him I spent all night healing her, what did he think, that I’d leave her to die? Fucking hell.”

“Leave who to die?” Kakashi said, confused. “What happened?”

“Sakura happened,” Tsunade ranted tiredly. “They brought her back almost half dead, I’ve been patching her up for the better part of eight hours and this is how I’m rewarded.”

But Kakashi had stopped listening after ‘half dead’. Half dead? “Half … dead?” he echoed, his mouth dry.

No. This wasn’t happening.

This wasn’t happening.

“Yes,” Tsunade sighed. “But I operated on her and she’s going to be fine.”

Kakashi barely heard the words. His brain was a string of very adamant denial. No, no, no, no.

He didn’t want it to be true—all those years he had been certain, was so sure that it was him, that he was the reason the people he loved always died. That he was a curse to those he cared about.

Every person he loved came back in a body bag.

Fuck.

Kakashi turned tail, a sudden manic urge to see her rising unbearably in his chest. What if Tsunade was lying, what if Sakura wasn’t fine? What if she was fine, but she died anyway?

Fear pumped through his veins, rendering him dizzy. This was his worst nightmare come to life—how could he have forgotten that people, even those that could mend bones and heal what was broken, were so damn breakable?

His legs couldn’t carry him quickly enough.

He didn’t waste time interrogating the nurses for her whereabouts, he knew her scent like she was a part of him. It led him to her now, her unique sweetness tainted with blood and antiseptic.

Gods, he was going to be sick.

He nearly ripped the door off its hinges in his haste to get to her.

Shikamaru was already there, looking wrecked, looking worse than Kakashi had ever seen him. “Is she—”

He couldn’t even say it.

“They … they said they don’t know when she’ll wake up,” Shikamaru whispered hollowly.

Kakashi felt the ground crumbling beneath his feet. “No,” he whispered, leaning back against the wall when he teetered off balance.

His hip jarred against the doorknob but Kakashi barely registered the sting. Barely anything registered beyond the fear-terror-fear coursing through his veins like poison. “Please, no,” he said.

This couldn’t be happening again.

His father and Obito and Rin and Minato-sensei—hadn’t they been enough? Was Sakura going to be another name on the too long list of losses that haunted him?

He really was going to be sick. He clenched his jaw against the reflex, forcing his brain out of the dizzying tornado of anxieties. His gaze focused on Shikamaru, the only other person that mattered as much.

He didn’t look good at all, pale and shaking and appearing ready to fall apart.

The sight of him was strangely grounding.

Kakashi found his elusive strength, located his knees under him and was at his side in the next second.

“Shikamaru,” he rasped, clutching the other man’s arm.

“She looks dead,” Shikamaru whispered. “I … I …”

Words eluded him.

Kakashi tugged at his arm, drawing Shikamaru against him. He went without a fight, slumping against Kakashi’s chest like a puppet whose strings were cut.

“It’s going to be okay,” Kakashi lied, surprised by how much conviction he could bleed into it when it was for someone else’s benefit. “She’s going to be fine.”

Shikamaru shook in his hold, his shoulders minutely trembling. But just as suddenly, his body calmed down and he gripped tightly onto Kakashi’s middle. “What if she isn’t?”

“She will be,” Kakashi stressed because … anything else was not an option. “It’s Sakura. She punched a goddess in the face.”

Shikamaru let out a short, pained laugh against him. “Gods, don’t remind me; what a reckless idiot.”

“It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Kakashi confessed in a soft murmur against Shikamaru’s hair. He tightened his hold on him, drawing strength from the warmth of his body. “As beautiful as the two of you together.”

Lean fingers dug in his back. “I’m glad you’re here,” Shikamaru said sincerely. “I’m glad you came. Fuck, I think I’m gonna cry.”

“You can cry,” Kakashi soothed, sinking his fingers in lush, dark hair. “Hell, I might cry.”

Shikamaru let out a wet chuckle. “Yeah.”

Kakashi’s face bowed, nuzzling the side of his head as he took a shuddering breath. He clutched Shikamaru closely, his breath shallow and his heart a warbling mess in his chest.

He couldn’t think about if she died. He would die, then, if not from sorrow then from a broken psyche. It was easier to focus on the beeping machines and Shikamaru’s sure, thudding heart. Kakashi tuned in on every shuddering breath, his palm mapping his expanding ribs.

His focus narrowed down to his senses, to Shikamaru, to Sakura’s fighting, beating heart and prayed like he never had before.

She was going to be alright.

She had to be.

[fanfoolishness]

a world for the birds (3/10)

Andy DeMayo took up birding years ago, but his favorite hobby takes on new meaning when shared with his nephew Steven.

A series of looks at Andy and Steven’s growing family relationship.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

***

Chapter 3: hard work

It was a few months before Andy found his way back to Beach City again.  He couldn’t say why.  Sometimes, it felt good to be back in Delmarva.  Other times, it felt like a pair of boots he’d outgrown, a place where ghosts and memories didn’t exactly fit with Gems strolling the countryside and alien buildings rising up above the landscape.  

He’d never liked change.  It galled him, the older it got, knowing how much it bothered him.  How hard it was for him.  Like there was something inside him digging his heels in, resisting anything different as hard as it could.  It’d always been like that.

But then people like Greg, they could wander off and change their name, their life, everything.  Steven was living proof of that.  He missed them, and Aunt Deb and her partner, and the other cousins, scattered to the winds, but sometimes, it was still easier to be on his own.

So he spent a few months flying around the Southern Hemisphere, places he’d visited before, places he’d never heard of.  He took odd delivery jobs for food and lodging, traded for field guides of local birds, sent the occasional text message to family in the rare occasions he got service.  He sent Steven a blurry picture of a marvellous spatuletail (a lifer!), a Peruvian thick-knee, a tiny dot that he swore was a waved albatross.  He was gratified when Steven sent him a few amateur photos of northern cardinals and a nice one of a blue grosbeak.  

And then there weren’t any messages for a few weeks, and Andy got worried.

***

There was a lot more change than he’d expected.  

Gems and humans roamed the boardwalk of Beach City, performing construction on storefronts that looked like they’d been through a hurricane.  The grass on the lighthouse hill was patchy and bare in many places like it had been burned.  And all along the beach were rocks and patches of sand with filmy pink residue on them, caution tape strung up around them, and Gems working feverishly to clean the areas.

Andy had to argue with one particular Gem before they’d let him pass to the beach house, a towering black and white person with a face that reminded him of the sun.  “Sorry, it’s not safe for humans,” she said.  “It’s snow joke, it’s seriously toxic.”  She winked.

“Uh, right,” he said. “But look, Steven’s my nephew and he lives just around the bend.  I’m just in town to visit.  What the heck happened here?”

“Uncle Andy!” Steven called, hurrying up to him across the sand, carefully avoiding the roped off pink-stained areas.  “Oh, man, I’m so sorry you had to see this.  We’re working as hard as we can to clean it up.”  He closed the distance and catapulted himself into a hug with Andy.

Andy patted him on the head.  Had he grown a little more?  He looked different, a black t-shirt today instead of a blue one, shadows under his eyes.  “You okay, kid?”

“Thanks, Snowflake,” said Steven.  “I’ll keep him safe.”

“You got it,” said Snowflake, leaving them alone.  Andy watched the massive Gem walk off, shaking his head.  Maybe this was one of the former monster Gems Steven had been talking about.  She certainly looked less like a normal hippie than the rest of Steven’s family.

“So what happened?  I stopped hearing from you and your dad for a while --”

Steven rubbed the back of his neck, sighing.  “Ugh.  Everything’s been a mess.  Basically it turns out that not everyone agreed the Gem war was over.  A Gem my mom hurt came to Earth to try to destroy it.  We stopped her, mostly, but she still did a lot of damage.”

“Looks like you and your people are fixing it, though.  That’s good, right?” Andy asked uncertainly.  He listened for the sound of gulls and terns on the air, but all he heard was the breeze and the waves.  He let out a long sigh.  

Steven yawned.  He really did look exhausted, his hair mussed, his clothes rumpled.  “The Gems are taking care of the areas where there’s still detectable bio-poison, but I can’t help with that part.  It hurts me, too.  But once an area’s clean --”  He spotted a patch of bare soil beside them.  He licked his hand, then knelt and pressed it to the dirt.

“Uh, Steven --”

The bare soil sprouted over with green and olive moss, shimmering in the sunlight as it grew before his eyes.  “Once it’s clean, that’s where I come in,” said Steven, sounding both proud and tired.  He straightened up, stretching as he did so.  “I’m the only one with healing powers, so, you know, it’s a lot of work.  I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner,” he said.

Andy crossed his arms, staring at the long stretch of beach, the patchy hillside.  “You gotta do all this?”

“Yeah,” said Steven blankly.

“But it wasn’t even your fault.”

“So?”

Andy tried to figure out the words. You’re just a kid probably wouldn’t go over well.  He tried a variation.  “Don’t you got your own stuff to do?  You shouldn’t have to do all this work.  Not at your age.”

“But I’m the only one who can fix it,” said Steven, a stubborn note creeping into his voice.

“How many hours a day are you doin’ this?  Healing the earth?” Andy asked, trying to sound casual.

“Pretty much as soon as I get up until it gets dark,” said Steven.  “There’s so much to do.  All the Gems are helping with reconstruction and removing the poison, and I have to do my part, too.”

“Didn’t you say once Gems don’t even sleep?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” asked Steven defensively.  “Look, I said I would protect the Earth, and it almost got destroyed on my watch.  This is my duty as a Crystal Gem!”  He was flushed, his cheeks pink, one hand splayed over the star on his chest.

Andy opened his mouth, then closed it again.  Okay, sure, he had to believe him if the kid said he was the only one with this kind of magic, however it all worked.  But still.  It bugged him how much the kid looked like Greg right now.

Greg, who got more and more quiet during summers at the barn.  Greg, who’d been grim and resentful that last summer, constantly fighting with his parents.  Greg, who never came back.

There’d been a lot of reasons, he’d learned more recently, that Greg had left them all.  This wasn’t exactly the same.  But something about Steven’s pinched face and his narrowed eyes made him look so much like his dad, and Andy’s stomach clenched.

“Look, kid, I -- this is all over my head,” said Andy.  “Just try to be careful.  Okay?  You seem worn out.  Don’t forget you’re part of the Earth, too.”  

Steven’s face relaxed, then creased in a smile.  “I know, Uncle Andy.  Thanks.”  He sighed.  “I still have to do a lot of work today.  But my dad’s probably free if you want to hang.”

“I’ll go swing by and see if he wants to grab a bite,” said Andy.  “Maybe you can join us for dessert or something, huh?”

Steven stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets.  “Um, maybe.  But the ice cream place has been closed down after… after all this happened.”

“Oh.  Right.”

“Don’t worry about me, seriously,” said Steven.  “Your next visit, everything’s gonna be back to normal.  I promise.”  He flashed him another grin, and headed back down the beach, his shoulders hunched.

***

Andy pushed his crab cake around on his plate, watching it crumble and flake.  Good chunks of crab in there, only the barest minimum of bread needed to keep it shaped.  It was decent stuff.  Too bad he was hardly hungry.  He took another drink of his beer, a crisp lager.  

“So this crazy Gem almost blew up your town?  And the Earth?” asked Andy.

Greg took a drink of his own pint, searching for words.  “Well, to hear Steven tell it, she wasn’t crazy.  Just in a lot of pain.  He had a lot of compassion for her.  It probably saved his life.”

“Well, hell,” said Andy.  “Does this kind of thing happen often?   I mean, he really could have died, it sounds like.”

Greg nodded, letting out a long breath.  “I got hit with that poison myself.  I think it actually killed my arm.  Thank goodness for Steven’s healing powers; it’s good as new.”  He flexed his fist.  “Gem stuff’s dangerous.  It always has been.”

“But how does Steven always get mixed up in it?  I mean, you and me, we ain’t got any magic powers to protect him with, but what about his Gem family?” Andy asked.  “You can’t tell me out of all them alien ladies that none of them can fight.”

Greg chuckled, taking a bite from his stuffed blue crab.  “Oh, they can fight. But sometimes they’re just plain outmatched.  Rose’s family, the Diamonds, they’re literally over fifty feet tall. Each.”

“You’re shittin’ me.”

“Promise I’m not.  One of them picked me up like I was a toy in the palm of her hand, and kidnapped me to a human zoo in space,” said Greg, nonchalantly taking another drink.  “Steven and the Gems had to rescue me.  Good thing they did, too, since I accidentally started a riot because I wouldn’t say yes to an arranged marriage in the zoo.”

“Greg!  What the hell!”

Greg shrugged.  “I’ve seen a lot of weird shit, Andy.”

Andy laughed.  “Shoot, Greg, that’s what I always liked about you.  Always letting stuff roll right off your back.  Does anything ever bother you?”

He knew the answer, though.  Remembered Greg’s mom and dad, sweet like pie until he saw them chewing out Greg behind the barn, grinding him down with cruel calm words that weren’t even proper yelling.  He’d seen how those words stuck to Greg, a corrosive poison all its own.

He remembered it, but didn’t mention it.

Greg answered him. “What can I say?  It’s a gift.  So what’s been going on with you?”

“Oh, you know, the usual.  Flyin’ around wherever the wind takes me.  Spent some time in South America for a couple months.  Chilly this time of year south of the Equator, but that’s okay.  I like the winter weather.  It’s quiet, except when it’s fierce as hell,” said Andy.  “Sometimes I just need time to myself, you know?”

“I know,” said Greg.  He smiled, taking another drink.  “You were always like that as a kid.  We’d be playing some loud crazy game and you’d be off by yourself, grumping about how loud our made-up songs were.”

“Did not,” protested Andy.

“Nah, you did.”

“Well, so what?  Nothing wrong with alone time.”

“C’mon, like I can talk,” said Greg.  “I’m the one who ran off and changed my name, aren’t I?  Guess I really needed some alone time.”  He leaned back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling.  “I’m really glad we reconnected, Andy.  I just wish I’d looked for you after Steven was born.  I tried writing my folks, but…. They never wrote back. I kinda assumed the rest of the family didn’t want anything to do with us, either.”

“Your folks are stuck-up snobs, though,” said Andy, taking a bite of his crab cake, some of his appetite returning.  “It always surprised me, how they had a kid like you.  Not that you were a bad kid.  Just different.  My mom and dad never really got on with them, but they always made the effort because they thought maybe you and me could be friends.”

“Heh.  Thanks, Andy.  I used to wish sometimes I could’ve had your folks for parents instead.  They were good people.  At least they would have wanted to meet their grandson.”  Greg finished his ale, gazing at the waves behind Andy.  

“Your folks are missin’ out,” said Andy.  “You got a good kid, Greg.  Though I worry about him a little.”

“What do you mean?”

“I dunno.  I mean, maybe it’s nothing,” said Andy hastily, not wanting to step on any toes.  “Like I said, he’s a good kid.  He puts up with me and my birds and all.  I think he’s even birding on his own sometimes.  How neat is that?  But I saw him at the beach today and it seems like he’s runnin’ himself ragged.”

“I know,” said Greg, leaning his elbows on the table and resting his chin in his hands.  “I’m so proud of him, Andy.  Like I said, if it wasn’t for his compassion, I think the Earth would have been toast.  He’s so kindhearted.  But on the other hand, he works so hard.  Harder than I’ve ever worked at anything, except maybe raising him.  I know he didn’t have a normal childhood, and I didn’t want him to, but… I do wonder sometimes, how does he do it?”

“How does he?”

“I don’t know,” said Greg, and they fell into a silence, the waves soft and distant in the background.

[aiicheerios]

Title: Store bought Pairing: Kuroo Tetsuro/Yaku Morisuke Rating: G Word Count: 3567 Tags: post-canon, established relationship, domestic fluff, baking Summary:

“Wait, so let me get this straight. All this is because neither of us likes cooking- like we always have -and you're too embarrassed to admit that that hasn't changed just because we're in college now?"

Yaku stopped fiddling with the ingredients to fully turn his attention on him. "Yeah. Absolutely. Now you gonna help or do you have something else planned for tonight you astaxanthin?"

[ao3 mirror]

eyy i can finally post this yay

surprise @priintaniere i was your secret santa for the @haikyuusecretsanta exchange!

funny enough i actually love all the ships you listed (you even had my favorite!) but since i never get the chance to write kuroyaku i wasn’t about to pass that up so this was a lot of fun to do!

I hope you like it as much as i did writing/drawing it!

"Uh, Yakkun?" Kuroo looked around their normally clean (due to it almost never being used) kitchen that was now covered in various baking supplies with Yaku in the middle of it. "You know that I'm all for learning new things about you but since when do you bake?" In the past year they'd been living together he'd hardly ever seen his boyfriend cook, let alone bake. Not that Kuroo did either but hey, take out was invented for a reason after all!

"I don't." Yaku answered quickly. "Hey you're free for the rest of today right? Come over here and help me with this."

Kuroo stared blankly at him. "Right... remind me what," he gestured at the accumulation of ingredients "this is exactly?"

Yaku rolled his eyes. "The party. With the guys from Nekoma. Did you forget what we planned oh, four months ago?" He turned his back to Kuroo in favor of searching for something in their cabinets. "Whatever. If you can't it's fine, just try to stay out of the kitchen until I'm done. Don't want you messing up the cake and end up giving everyone food poisoning tomorrow."

The jab wasn't a serious insult but it still bruised his pride enough for Kuroo to feel offended. "If that's how you feel then why'd you ask me to help in the first place?"

"I refuse to use that step stool to reach into our stupidly tall cabinets- where the hell is the- the," Yaku mimed a frustrated stirring motion, "you know, the mixing thing with the wire things!"

"Wire thi- you mean a whisk?" Yaku let out a victorious 'YES!', stating how he'd been trying to remember the name for literal hours with no luck. Kuroo couldn't help but laugh at his boyfriend's reaction. "You do know that the party's tomorrow right?"

"Why do you think I'm making this now? Some of us can't get Christmas eve off, Tetsuro ." Yaku smiled to himself, pleased at the way his boyfriend's cool exterior crumbled at the use of his given name. Honestly, he always complained about how Yaku never called him by it but whenever he did, Kuroo would become a sappy mess and get embarrassed by it like he was some schoolgirl and not the nineteen year old college student that he was.

"Why do you only call me Tetsuro when you're trying to one up me or when you're angry!" Kuroo pointed accusingly at him. "That wasn't even the point I was trying to make here. Yakkun, you know they'd be fine with us just buying a cake don't you? They're not that picky- not even Kenma's that picky!"

Yaku held up the whisk he'd been searching for triumphantly. "Found it!" Kuroo golf clapped for his personal win and, deciding to humor him, Yaku responded to it in kind with a couple of over the top bows to his audience of one with a cheesy grin.

"And that's not the point here Kuroo."

"So what is the point then? Because I'd love to know."

"The point , is that we're in college now." Yaku moved his boyfriend aside as he went to rummage in the fridge. "We're supposed to be more mature now aren't we? Set an example for our former underclassmen- here we are." After successfully finding the milk he'd wanted, Yaku turned to find himself trapped between the fridge and Kuroo who was not at all bothered by their position. As if he was either, deep down.

Kuroo's arms easily found their place around Yaku's waist and he pulled the libero close so there wasn't any space between them. "We're plenty mature already even without a cake to prove it."

"Mmh maybe, but mature people don't max out multiple restaurant reward cards in a month because they're too lazy to buy groceries and cook for themselves." Using the milk, Yaku pushed Kuroo back two steps. He leaned up teasingly into Kuroo's face. "Don't you think?"

Kuroo was too stunned to try and stop Yaku from ducking around him and back to the kitchen island. "Wait, so let me get this straight. All this is because neither of us likes cooking- like we always have -and you're too embarrassed to admit that that hasn't changed just because we're in college now?"

Yaku stopped fiddling with the ingredients to fully turn his attention on him. "Yeah. Absolutely. Now you gonna help or do you have something else planned for tonight you astaxanthin?"

"It’s docosahexaenoic acid! And I thought that offer was revoked since I'd just 'give everyone food poisoning'?"

Yaku laughed. "I'll give you a chance prove yourself first. If we end up accidentally killing someone tomorrow though I'm pitting the blame all on you."

"You said we, that makes you an accomplice!" Kuroo dodged a crumpled up napkin that came flying at him. He narrowly avoided another as he made his hasty retreat to their bedroom. "I'll be back in a sec! Just gonna shower and change first, try not to miss me!"

"Oh be quiet!" Yaku called after him. "And make sure whatever you change into is clean! I don't want a repeat of the chloroform incident." He grimaced remembering what had happened on that day, at least from what Kuroo had told him.

Kuroo's disembodied groan rung out simultaneously with the sound of the shower turning on. "Babe I told you it was an accident! I didn't know it had spilled on my shirt!"

Instead of responding to him, Yaku spent the entirety of Kuroo's absence retrieving everything else they'd need for the cake. Almost everything. The last thing they needed was the largest mixing bowl from the set Yaku's mom had given them as a gift when they'd first moved in together. The very same one Kuroo had teasingly placed on the highest possible shelf in their already stupidly tall, as Yaku liked to put it, cabinets and there it'd stayed ever since unneeded.

Unneeded until now that is.

Yaku was seriously contemplating how bad the consequences of climbing up onto the counter and just going on his tiptoes to get it would be when an arm that was definitely not his reached up behind him and effortlessly got it for him.

"Step stool not working?" Oh he could just hear the teasing smirk in his voice.

The fully prepared argument on how he didn't- shouldn't have to use that stupid step stool in his own home died the second Yaku got a good look at his boyfriend.

Kuroo's stupidly ecstatic grin could often get Yaku to overlook a lot of things. His amazingly cliched ideas of what a romantic set up was for their anniversary, the sappy send off speech he'd prepared when they'd retired from the club at Nekoma, even the entire week he'd spent trying to make up for accidentally trashing three weeks worth of homework Yaku had set aside thinking it was junk. He could overlook all of those easily, but this?

This was by far the worst one and so Yaku could not possibly be asked to overlook it.

Kuroo was a good looking guy, sometimes too good Yaku would think when he'd catch others staring for too long, but not even he could successfully make the red and green monstrosity he was currently wearing look good. The offending clothing was a horrible green sweater with red trimming and a picture of an anatomically warped Santa somehow pouring milk up and over him directly into a glass that was balanced somehow perfectly on his butt. It was hands down the worst thing Yaku had ever had the misfortune of seeing.

"So," Kuroo smiled wide in anticipation. "What do you thi-"

"I'm staying over at Suga-kun's tonight." Yaku responded immediately.

"Yakkun!" Kuroo tried to call for Yaku but he wasn't having any of it. He just barely was able to catch his boyfriend before he was able to leave the kitchen. Kuroo buried his face into Yaku's hair, hugging him from behind. "Don't be like that babe, you know you love it."

"I hate it."

"'Kay but you love me!"

"Who knows why. You- stop!" Yaku tried to squirm out of Kuroo's strong grip but he didn't budge, only nuzzling closer. A tighter than comfortable squeeze made Yaku groan and Kuroo whine at the noise. "Get off me already! We still got a cake to make."

Yaku was finally able to get him to release by jabbing an elbow into Kuroo's stomach. The former captain doubled over, apparently he'd hit him a lot harder than he thought. A quick kiss on the head in apology was more than enough for him to jump back better than before.

"Yakkun don't leave me for Sugawara," Yaku couldn't help the small smile that formed at what sounded like the beginning to one of Kuroo's sappy statements. "Only I get to hear those cute noises you make." Ah. False alarm. Just for that Yaku flicked him in the exact same spot he just kissed.

Kuroo gaped at him, feigning hurt. Yaku only shrugged. "You deserved that."

"Excuse me? I have done nothing wrong ever."

" Tetsuro... "

Kuroo straightened up into a stiff salute. "Yes sir."

Amazingly enough, even though they absolutely hated cooking and didn't have much of a talent for it, they two of them weren't half bad at baking. So long as they had a recipe to follow made by someone who actually knew what they were doing, of course. Until it came to the actual baking part of the mix.

"Where's the pan we're pouring this in again?"

Yaku nodded off to the side as he went back to mixing their nearly finished batter. "Right there. Where it's been this entire time."

It was not a baking pan. Kuroo picked up the small tray. "Yakkun this is a cupcake tray."

"I know. That was the closest thing we had. Why do we even have that anyways? Neither of us have ever used it."

"Until today?"

"Until today." Yaku did a few more quick stirs of the thick chocolate batter. "I think that's good enough. What does it say to do next?"

"Yaku, you do know that this thing only holds six cupcakes right?" He knocked once on the tray to emphasize his point. "There's no way that's going to last those guys five minutes."

He waved his free hand at him. "We'll just make some more then. Next step?"

"Ok but still, there can't be enough for everyone in that one batch of mix we made,"

"Testsu..." Yaku's grip on the bowl tightened.

"That'd be like telling Kenma he's only allowed to play one game for the rest of his life,"

"Testsuro..."

"Or like telling Bokuto to not try one of those all you can eat meat challenges-"

"Tetsuro- hey!" Yaku scowled at the satisfied look on Kuroo’s face as he popped the finger he'd sneaked into the batter into his mouth. The irritated flush to his face turned even brighter when Kuroo moaned exaggeratedly in delight at the taste. "I hope you get salmonella from that."

Kuroo tried to pull him into his arms but Yaku wasn't having any of it. He stepped further away, holding the bowl protectively to his chest. "Knock that off."

"What? It's good! Besides wouldn't we have to taste test it eventually anyways?" Yaku stared coldly at him. "I'm helping! And might I add, you can get salmonella from raw cookie dough, not cake batter. I would've thought you knew that, Yakkun." In the moment his boyfriend made a move to swat at him, Kuroo was quick to take advantage of the now unprotected state the bowl was in and stuck his finger into it again.

"Will you stop that! You're getting your dirty hands in something other people will be eating tomorrow!"

Kuroo waved him off, thick batter splatting on the counter. "I don't have germs! Besides it's not like I haven't already had my hands in it!" his eyes lit up suddenly.

Yaku stepped back wearily. "...What's with the face?"

Instead of answering Kuroo crept closer to his boyfriend who immediately took a step back to keep the distance between them. "Why're you backing up Mori-kun?"

Yaku became torn on whether to keep his eyes on him or look away from embarrassment. "I don't trust this."

"You don't trust me? I'm hurt Yakkun."

"Not right now with that look on your face I don't. What're you doing?" He eyed him suspiciously. Kuroo hadn't been known as the scheming captain for nothing after all, and while he may no longer be a captain the scheming part definitely still lingered.

"Nothing bad I promise! See?" he even made a big show of making an X over where his heart would be. "Would I ever make you do something bad babe?"

"Yes."

"Yaku..."

Yaku shook his head. "Nope. Nuh-uh, don't even try and deny that one. Just tell me what it is you're planning here."

Kuroo sighed but finally surrendered. "I just thought maybe you were mad because I stole the taste testing job from you. So me being the caring boyfriend that I am, thought I'd offer you a taste as well." Kuroo offered up his finger he'd dipped in the batter up to Yaku's mouth.

Yaku gave him an unimpressed look.

"Come on even if it could give you salmonella- which it can't, I'm pretty sure -I'd be right there besides you suffering."

Yaku snorted, unable to fight off an amused grin. "Well that sure convinced me. Don't ever become a salesman Kuroo, you'd be terrible at it."

"So is that a no to the taste test?"

The worst he could do is just go in for a kiss instead… which isn't really a loss either.

Sighing, Yaku finally allowed his guard to drop and opened his mouth for it.

That was his first mistake.

Instead of sticking the batter-dipped finger into his mouth or even going ahead to kiss Yaku like he thought he would, Kuroo chose to boop him on the nose with it. Some of the batter began dripping down his face. Yaku tried hard to scowl at Kuroo but with the way he looked like he was just barely holding back from laughing at Yaku, it probably didn't look as threatening as he'd like.

"Kuroo..." Yaku's voice was calm but they both knew that was only a front. He could feel some of the batter land around his mouth and could only imagine how ridiculous he actually looked right then.

The former captain pointed at his own mouth. Clearly fighting, and not succeeding at all, to keep a crooked grin from forming. "Y-you got a little... right here."

"Thanks."

"Here let me just," before Yaku could make any move to stop him, Kuroo had leaned down and licked the drops of batter on the seam of his lips. He gasped in surprise, allowing Kuroo to slip his tongue into Yaku's mouth in a brief and sweet, both literally and figuratively, kiss. When he pulled back Kuroo's face was as red as Yaku's felt.

Yaku placed the bowl back onto the island, amazed in his own ability to not drop it during the entire exchange. He bit down on his lower lip, mouth still tingling from the kiss. It wasn't their first, not by a long shot, but it definitely felt like a first of some sort.

"Was that supposed to shut me up?" all of the previous pent up tension and anger was gone already but Kuroo didn't need to know that. Not that he was positive he didn't already. He also didn't need to know how lightheaded that kiss had left him feeling. Hopefully Kuroo didn't already know that either.

Kuroo wasn't looking at him. In fact, it looked like he was making a conscious effort not to look, like it was impossible to face Yaku all of a sudden. He hid his face in his elbow, arm raised so that Yaku could only just see Kuroo's eyes that were determined to not make any contact. It wasn't a very effective disguise since his ears were now burning the same dark red that was probably still coloring his face.

"I- um," Kuroo tried to look down at Yaku but was only able to last a few seconds before looking away again. "I was just planning on messing with you but," he cleared his throat, voice scratchy. "I actually did mean to let you have a taste so that uh, that happened."

Now it was Yaku's turn to try not to laugh, only he was much worse at it and wasn't trying nearly as hard as Kuroo had. It took all of two seconds for him to break and Yaku was doubled over pointing and laughing at his thoroughly embarrassed boyfriend who had let his own guard drop to defend himself, face still ablaze.

"Ok I get it, you can stop laughing now!"

"N-no hold on. You- you mean to tell me you were trying to screw with me," Yaku paused for a fit of laughter. "ah-and you ended up backpedaling so hard that you slipped me some tongue to make up for it?" Kuroo's telling blush was enough for him to have to grab onto the edge of the island to keep his balance as Yaku dissolved into another bout of relentless laughter.

"I was trying to be smooth! You know, sweep you off your feet, make you swoon kind of thing." the sentiment sounded sweet sure, but the means was still ridiculous.

"Yeah how'd that work out for you? You look like a sunburnt tomato Tetsu!" Yaku was laughing so hard tears were welling up in his eyes and his stomach was beginning to hurt. It took Yaku a moment to realize that Kuroo had been quiet for a while and when he looked up after wiping unshed tears from his eyes, he was quickly embarrassed by what he saw.

Kuroo was staring at him. But it wasn't the angry 'are you finished yet?' stare or the mortified 'kill me already' stare Yaku might've expected to see. The way he was being stared at was how Kuroo often looked at Yaku when the libero usually didn't notice, with complete and unabashed adoration and awe. Way too sappy for Yaku to handle head on, but he wasn't a quitter so he wasn't about to look away first.

"What's with that face?" Yaku's laughter calmed down. "I got something on my fa- actually forget I said that." he wiped the rest of the batter off with the back of his hand, some of the previously fading blush returning.

Kuroo was still staring, somehow completely missing the chance to tease Yaku in retaliation. He whined needily. The sound sent a shiver up Yaku's spine. "Why you gotta do that Yaku?"

"Do what?"

"Call me Tetsu while doing that cute snorting laugh of yours. It's just not fair, that's playing dirty."

Using that stupid pout while saying such embarrassing things is what's unfair! Damn you Kuroo!

"And I don't snort." he said under his breath. Yaku's resolve was wearing thin and if Kuroo kept this overly honest act up, he wouldn't last much longer. They hadn't even put the cake in the oven yet!

Yaku reached past him and dragged the cupcake tin over to where he was. "We're not done here. C'mon, you sprayed this with the no-stick stuff right?" Kuroo didn't look completely snapped out of whatever sappy, lovey-dovey mood he was in but he still nodded dumbly to answer him. "Right... then I'll just pour this in and we can finally throw them in the oven and call it a night."

"Uh-huh..."

Pouring out the batter was a good enough distraction for the moment, but Yaku could still feel Kuroo's eyes staring besides him. He wanted to squirm under it but Yaku's stubbornness was not to be tested. The few spared glances he gives him are enough for Yaku to have the whisk in a death grip as he sharply scrapes the bowl's contents into the tin's cups.

"Kuroo if you keep staring at me like that I'm gonna put you in the oven." Yaku finally snapped. He stared Kuroo down, daring him to respond.

"Aw, I'm just admiring the man I love." he didn't miss the teasing lilt in his voice. At least it wasn't the sappy tone from before. "anyway, even if you did shove me in there it wouldn’t be anything compared to my burning love for yo-!"

Yaku smiled, a little glad that his boyfriend was back to normal. "Yeah, yeah, be quiet."

He slid the tray inside the pre-heated oven then turned back to Kuroo.

"So," Yaku took a step forwards so there was hardly any space between them, "we've got thirty five minutes. What now, captain?"

Kuroo blinked in surprise. "Oh so it's captain now?"

Yaku shrugged. He patted Kuroo on the back as he walked around him to their living room. "Just thought I'd help you get a little bit of your pride back that's all." halfway out of sight, Yaku called back, "You coming?"

Kuroo didn't hesitate to scramble after him, nearly knocking some of the mess they'd made onto the floor in the process.

Forty two minutes and six somewhat charred cupcakes later, they had to try again with their leftover batter. Still, it was better than store bought.

bonus:

[buckykingofmemes]

Closet Softie

Or, How Bucky Barnes Nearly Ruined His Tough-Guy Rep

(On AO3)

The trail mix was gone. 

The nice, expensive trail mix, with twelve kinds of nuts and the big sunflower seeds and dried fruits, the kind Tony only rarely left sitting on the common floors for everyone to get at, was gone. 

Clint had been looking forward to that stuff all morning. 

All the way through a hellish morning “jog” with Steve, all through Nat handing him his ass on the training mats, all through firing the same batch of misweighted arrows over and over so Tony could take scans and fix the design, he’d been thinking, when this is done I get to go upstairs and hang out on the couch and watch Dog Cops and eat the good trail mix, guilt-free. 

And it was gone.

Clint was gonna shoot somebody.

Just as soon as he figured out who’d taken the trail mix.

kingofmemes posted:

yesterday i saw a sad duck in the park who kept getting picked on by the other ducks so today i brought some trail mix and we had a nice lunch together. also i think he might be the duck who pooped on sam last week. if so, he is officially my new best friend. 

Posted at 3:29 PM, 24379 notes

(Read More Below)

Was...was that Barnes? No way was that Barnes. There was zero chance that the huge guy teaching a swarm of kids how to throw a baseball in the park was the Winter Soldier. That was ridiculous. Barnes was probably back in the Tower, brooding or something. Definitely not throwing crazy curveballs while a six year old with a broken arm rode piggyback. There were a dozen or so kids of varying ages clustered around, trying to mimic his throw. And while the big guy did have hair about the same length as Barnes’s, Barnes’s hair definitely wasn’t done up in sloppy child-made braids and topped with a dandelion flower crown. And Barnes would rather loose his right arm than deal with a bunch of kids, right? Even if these grubby little monsters were being remarkably well-behaved. 

Had to be somebody else. Clint kept walking. 

kingofmemes posted:

today i learned that i can throw a baseball hard enough that it will explode on impact. and also that if you do that, you better be prepared to teach a bunch of kids how to do it, because they wont ever leave you alone otherwise

Posted at 4:47 PM, 26658 notes

Clint actually tripped over the package left in front of his door. Avenger he might be, but it had been a long day at the end of a longer week, and he was tired. And usually there wasn’t anything left in the hallway to trip over, what the hell. 

Clint grabbed the box and dragged himself into his apartment. Hopefully it wasn’t a bomb. If it was, he was totally gonna get blown up, because he was too tired to check before he opened it.

It wasn’t. It was a bizarre knit shirt-thing, big enough to fit him and with a hood and hoodie pocket, but without sleeves.The whole thing was made of a soft dark purple yarn, and it seemed unbelievably warm. It was...kinda perfect. He’d just been complaining on the last op about how hard it was to find warm clothes he could wear that didn’t restrict his arms so he couldn’t shoot. 

He pulled it on. It was even warmer than it looked, and softer than Thor’s godly hair. Clint loved it.

But who the hell had given it to him?

kingofmemes posted:

i dont care what anyone says, knitting is a combat-applicable skill, and if you disagree i will fight you. with my knitting needles.

Posted at 3:42 AM, 47292 notes

There were cupcakes on the counter. Beautiful, glorious, still-warm cupcakes on the kitchen counter, and Clint was gonna eat all of them before anyone stopped him.

Well. Maybe he would share with Nat. Otherwise she might make him regret it. Nat was kinda the worst. 

Wait, were these cupcakes for him?? They were lavender. With purple frosting. And the other half were little dark chocolate and red velvet sandwiches. Maybe it was a coincidence? Clint mused it over as he shoved a third lavender cupcake in his mouth. The red-and-black ones had some kind of dark red filling leaking out between the layers. It looked like blood. Nat reached past him and snagged two of them. He’d jump, but he’d gotten used to her sneaking up on him all the time. She was the worst. Clint refrained from commenting by stuffing a fourth cupcake in his face. They were really good. 

Nat made a little muffled moan noise. Clint reached for one of the red cupcakes, and she slapped his hand down. “Those are mine,” she grunted around her mouthful of cake, because she was only ladylike when it suited her. 

“Says who?” Clint asked, even as he took another purple cupcake. 

Nat pointed to the paper plate. Where Clint’s cupcakes had previously sat, there was blocky sharpie lettering: Have fun on your mission & dont die. Below was a little drawing of an arrow and a spider. There was no signature. 

Huh.

Nat swallowed. “We need to leave now if we don’t want to be late for the pre-op briefing.”

Aw, no, cupcakes. There were still so many left, Clint didn’t want to leave them. They wouldn’t last a day in the Tower. 

“Take the cupcakes with.” Nat ordered, sweeping out of the room. 

Nat was the best. 

kingofmemes posted:

cupcakes are great. you could have one really big cake or 40 tiny cakes, thats so fantastic. im gonna die if i keep making this many cupcakes somebody help me eat all these

Posted at 5:43 PM, 23749 notes

Barnes had a death wish. It was the only logical conclusion. There was literally no other reason for him to suddenly yell “Motherfucker!” during a debriefing, while Nick Fury was talking. 

That was the kinda thing that got you keelhauled. Clint would know, he was a human disaster. Barnes was apparently worse, though he seemed to have balls to match, because he sat still and maintained eye contact as Fury glared him down. Weaker men and some brick walls had crumbled under that glare.

Barnes waited him out, and endured the following dressing-down with respectful yes-sirs no-sirs and sorry-sirs. And then promptly dashed out of the room as soon as the debriefing was over.

Weird. 

kingofmemes posted:

ever get clawed in the stomach by the secret kitten you rescued and stashed in your hoodie pocket? because let me tell you. it 1. hurts and 2. hurts emotionally, because i love her and she hates me

 Posted at 4:47 AM, 37294 notes

Clint staggered into the common room. A bad op gone worse had not at all been helped by a stint in medical, which he hated, and he’d gotten home to discover that Lucky had knocked a houseplant over and somehow gotten dirt through the whole apartment and needed a bath. And Lucky did not like baths. Plus he was still dealing with a nasty cold. So now Clint was tired, injured, sick, wet, and somehow still covered in dirt. 

Aw, life, no.

Barnes was on the couch, watching with raised brows as Clint stood and contemplated the disaster that this week had been. Possibly also he might be judging Clint for being such a human train wreck.

Clint sneezed pathetically. 

Barnes stood up. Clint watched him, too exhausted to be concerned. 

“You look like you could use a hug.” Barnes informed him.

 It took Clint a moment to separate out what he’d expected Barnes to say and what he’d actually said. And then he said, “What?” Because, no way. 

“A hug. Want one?” Barnes repeated, like Clint was slow. Which, to be fair, his brain was basically operating at the pace of a drunk slug.

“I...thought you were a no-hugging friend.” 

“Mostly yes, but I’m in a good headspace today and you look like you could use either a hug or a mercy killing. And I don’t wanna get blood on this knife, I just cleaned it.”

Huh. That was...huh. Should he be touched or terrified? Clint didn’t think he had the emotional energy for both. 

“So. Hug. Want one?”

“...yeah, please.”

Barnes was a weird hugger. He came in slow and careful like he was expecting something to detonate, but once he was there, it was like being wrapped up by the world’s nicest bear. Strong and steady and taller than Clint, damn him, but nice.

“Thanks.” Clint mumbled at his toes.

“Yeah, yeah. Sit on the couch, I’m gonna make you some soup before you pass out.”

Barnes was such a softie, Clint thought, splayed on the sofa, and slipped into sleep.

kingofmemes posted:

it turns out that the best way to cure grumpiness is with hot food and niceness. or maybe it was the murder threat that helped.

whichever. ill keep doing both just to be sure. 

Posted at 4:47 AM, 5392 notes

Mod Hell note: Please note that Bucky did not feed bread to the duck. That is because bread is BAD FOR BIRDS and you should never give it to them, as it can cause serious health problems. Nuts and veggies are good. Google it.