#i got lazy with the shelves
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mountain-dew-tickledpink · 1 year ago
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“Jeremy can still feel himself coming down from their silly quarrel over toothpaste flavors, his heart still racing and pounding inside his chest, the flush in his cheeks still burning. (Mint fucking sucks. It hurts. No toothpaste should hurt, and he’s very opinionated about that, so they settled on strawberry to share. For now.)”
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Fanart for @michaelmellkinnie ‘s new fic “I like me better (when I’m with you)” on ao3 it’s literally so so good it made me all giddy
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zombiesama · 4 months ago
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Work drama time
Were so busy at the county library that we don't get time to dust & today one of my coworkers who works mainly over at the city library took a picture of a collection of dust with the intent to show the library director bc we're supposed to dust daily 🙃
My supervisor at the county library went to talk with the director before coworker could & the director is 100% on our side though lmao get fucked
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victorluvsalice · 1 year ago
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-->However, speaking of fun, we now we come to the part of the episode that I like to call "Is Fishing Fun?" Because I quickly realized that, if I wanted to put fishcake cans out on my shelves, I would need to have plenty of fish to turn into fishcakes. And currently the gang did not have plenty of fish. So, I decided it was time for Victor to resume the family business and took him off flower duty and put him on fish duty on the dock behind the store! He started out a bit slow, as evidenced by him holding a log there, but slowly started picking up the pace with a betta and a tetra. Meanwhile, Smiler started working on a new apothecary product, Red-Hot Tablets (tablets that make a Sim angry! ...look, all it required was three basil, so Smiler could make them really easily), and Alice --
-->Went upstairs and started watching "College Cram" once she ran out of fishcakes to make. Oi, Alice -- I said no fun until the shelves are filled! So, after a brief bathroom break (during which I realized I could put up those new "facilities" signs that came in one of the recent patch updates -- they do add a little extra something to the bathroom, don't they?), I sent HER out to join Victor fishing. And then I went, "well, if Victor and Alice are out there, might as well send Smiler too," and did just that.
-->And so the great fish-off began! With everyone standing there fishing their little hearts out to get enough fish to make loads and loads of fishcakes. And, I'm pleased to report, everyone did end up having a pretty darn good day out on the old dock --
Victor: Caught a couple of bettas, a tetra, a pair of tunas, an angelfish, a cichlid – and a “Captain Fishbones” Bonefish! Yeah, as you can imagine, THAT one stayed in his inventory to be brought home to live in the aquarium later.
Alice: Caught a tetra, a kissing gorami, a goldfish, a betta, a kitchen upgrade part, and a digitalistic sketchpad! XD Well, I had kind of meant to get her one of those eventually... She also got to Fishing level 4, which should serve her well when I force her to fish again to help fill these shelves. XD
Smiler: Caught a couple of angelfish, a tilapia, a betta, and a kissing gorami -- not the biggest catch, but then they started the latest, so it only made sense they'd catch the least. And hey, that is still a pretty good haul, all things considered. Certainly enough to make lots of fishcakes!
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ozzgin · 3 months ago
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i ADORE sleepy character so much
i just love a man who cant barely keeps his eyes open but still loves us regardless of that sleepiness <3
I feel like Clumsy!Yandere and Lazy!Yandere make the perfect duo when it comes to yandere failures. One is doing his best, but is terrible at it, the other one just can't be bothered. Do they love you? 1000%. They just need the occasional guiding hand.
"Guess what," Clumsy!Yandere exclaims with a smug grin, staring down his rival. "I know you sent (Y/N) a love letter. It's in the shredder now. You should stay in your lane next time."
Lazy!Yandere lets out a deep yawn.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I fell asleep on the bus, so I only got here a moment ago."
Clumsy!Yandere turns around with a horrified gasp. His rival follows him with his eyes.
"That isn't even (Y/N)'s locker, by the way."
"What? But-"
Two desks away, a student begins to weep. Their admission letter has mysteriously vanished from their shelves.
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[Lazy!Sleepy!Yandere] | [Clumsy!Yandere]
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brunchable · 5 months ago
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How's retirement, Bucky? | Bucky Barnes x f!reader.
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Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!reader
Themes: Funny. Bucky trying to find things to do to kill time, while also being a menace to Y/N and the neighbours. Prequel to 'Ouch, My face.'
Summary: Bucky decides to retire and leave the super hero world behind, but now he doesn't know how to be normal citizen.
A/N: Just another scenario tha rudely popped into my head. . .
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Bucky Barnes was retired.
It still felt strange, even after months of settling into a life of quiet mornings and unhurried afternoons. He had fought in wars, spent decades as an agent of chaos, and dedicated years to redemption and healing. Now, here he was—waking up whenever he pleased, making breakfast in a house that didn’t have bullet-proof glass windows or a panic room, and trying to figure out what to do with the rest of his day.
Today, like most others, started off simple enough: a run through the neighbourhood, a cup of coffee, and a lazy scan of the news. He’d even managed to fix the leaky faucet that had been bothering you for weeks, earning a soft kiss on the cheek as a reward.
But then… the day stretched on. There were no missions, no tactical planning, no world to save. Just the quiet ticking of the clock and the gentle hum of suburban life around him.
So, Bucky set his sights on something—or rather, someone—far more interesting: annoying you.
And thus began the saga of Bucky Barnes’ Retirement Phases.
Phase 1: The Handyman Hero Phase
Duration: One Month
Bucky started off strong, becoming the ultimate handyman of the household. Everything was fair game for improvement. Leaky faucets, creaky floorboards, wobbly shelves—if there was a screw to tighten, Bucky was on it like a well-oiled machine.
“Bucky, what are you doing?” you asked one morning, sipping your coffee as you watched him carefully measuring the distance between each picture frame on the living room wall.
“Making sure they’re exactly one inch apart,” he said without looking up, his voice deadly serious.
“Why?”
“Because last night, I noticed this one—” he pointed to a frame on the far left “—was slightly off-center, and it’s been bothering me ever since.”
You blinked. “Bucky, it’s fine.”
“It’s not fine, Y/N. It’s one and a quarter inch apart. Do you know what happens when things aren’t balanced?” He gave you a haunted look, as if you’d just suggested destabilizing the world order.
“Chaos,” you muttered.
“Exactly.”
Within weeks, Bucky had rebuilt half the house, repainted the walls (twice), and installed a state-of-the-art security system that even Tony Stark would envy. You came home one day to find the couch moved three inches to the left, the coffee table completely gone (“I dismantled it; we don’t need it”), and Bucky seriously contemplating whether the kitchen would look better with marble or granite countertops.
“Bucky,” you said slowly, trying to remain calm, “I’m begging you—stop fixing things.”
He blinked at you. “What do you want me to do then?”
You panicked. “Anything. Just—find a hobby!”
He gave a solemn nod, as if you’d just entrusted him with a new mission. “Okay. A hobby. Got it.”
You breathed a sigh of relief. If only you’d known what was coming next.
Phase 2: The Google Scholar Phase
Duration: Two Weeks
With his newfound free time, Bucky discovered the internet. And when Bucky Barnes discovers the internet, chaos ensues.
It started innocently enough. You’d come home to find him glued to his laptop, his brows furrowed in concentration.
“What are you doing?” you asked, setting down your bag.
“Research,” he said ominously, fingers flying over the keys.
“Research on… what?”
He glanced up, his eyes wide. “Did you know sharks have been around longer than trees?”
“Uh—”
“And that banana slugs can grow up to 9 inches long?” He leaned forward, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “There’s a whole website dedicated to weird animal facts. I’ve been reading for hours.”
And so, you were subjected to two weeks of nonstop trivia.
“Hey, Y/N!” he’d shout from the kitchen. “Did you know an octopus has three hearts?”
Or: “Did you know cows have best friends?”
And: “Do you want to hear about the deepest point in the ocean?”
“Not really—”
“It’s called the Mariana Trench, and it’s seven miles down!”
You tried banning Wikipedia, but he just switched to obscure forums. You blocked YouTube, and he found a random chicken fact blog. The worst part? He’d share his newfound knowledge with anyone who’d listen.
“I’m calling Sam,” you muttered one evening after hearing Bucky recite the entire history of the humble potato to the mailman. “You need social intervention.”
Phase 3: The Home Décor Perfectionist Phase
Duration: Two Exasperating Weeks
Denied access to his newfound internet pursuits, Bucky turned to interior design. You were caught off guard one Saturday morning when he asked, “What do you think of paisley?”
“What’s a paisley?”
“Pattern. I’m thinking of reupholstering the couch.”
“Bucky, no—”
Too late. Within days, every room was a different colour. You came home to find polka-dotted curtains in the bathroom, and he’d somehow managed to install a chandelier in the laundry room.
“Bucky, why is there a 10-foot mirror in the hallway?”
“It makes the space feel bigger.”
“Bucky, this is a two-bedroom house!”
He paused, squinting at the living room wall. “I think the polka dots need to go.”
You nearly wept with relief when he announced he was moving on to the garden.
Phase 4: The Amateur Detective Phase
Duration: One Overly Suspicious Month
After redecorating the entire house, Bucky set his sights on the neighborhood.
“Y/N, did you see that guy across the street?” he whispered one morning, peering through the blinds with a pair of binoculars.
“That’s Mr. Henderson. He’s eighty-five.”
“Yeah, and he’s up to something. No one goes to the mailbox that often.”
“Maybe he likes getting his mail?”
“I’m telling you, something’s not right.” He tapped the binoculars. “I’m gonna get to the bottom of it.”
And so began Operation: Neighborhood Watch. Every delivery truck was scrutinised. Every dog walker received a full background check. The poor Girl Scouts who came to sell cookies left looking slightly shell-shocked.
The Girl Scout Incident: When Bucky Barnes Met Thin Mints
The Girl Scout incident started out innocent enough—just a kid selling cookies to the neighborhood. But when Bucky Barnes answered the door, things took a turn.
It was a sunny Saturday morning. You were in the kitchen, enjoying a rare moment of peace, when you heard the doorbell ring. Before you could even get up to check, Bucky’s voice echoed from the living room.
“I got it!” he called out, already making his way to the front door.
Curious, you peeked around the corner just in time to see him open it. Standing on the porch was a sweet-looking little girl, no more than nine or ten, decked out in her green uniform, clutching a clipboard and flashing a bright, eager smile.
“Hi, mister!” she chirped, clearly undeterred by the stern look on Bucky’s face. “Would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies today?”
You watched as Bucky’s expression softened just a bit, his head tilting to the side in confusion.
“Cookies?” he repeated, as if she’d just offered him nuclear launch codes.
“Yep!” She held up a laminated chart with pictures of the various cookies, pointing to each one with a tiny, rainbow-colored pen. “We have Thin Mints, Tagalongs, Samoas—uh, I mean, Caramel deLites—”
He squinted at the chart, clearly trying to make sense of it all. “Why would you need to sell cookies?”
You nearly face-palmed. Oh no.
The girl’s enthusiasm didn’t waver. “It’s a fundraiser! To support our troop activities and trips.”
“Fundraiser?” Bucky’s voice dropped suspiciously. “Who’s your troop leader?”
The girl blinked, a little taken aback. “Uh, Mrs. Patterson?”
“Uh-huh. And how many boxes of these so-called ‘cookies’ are you supposed to sell?”
Her smile wavered just a fraction. “Um, as many as possible?”
Bucky crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “And where does all this money go?”
“Bucky—” you tried to interrupt, stepping forward, but he held up a hand without looking back, eyes still locked on the bewildered Girl Scout.
“It goes to our troop!” she answered nervously, glancing down at her clipboard as if for reassurance. “For badges and supplies and—”
“Supplies,” Bucky echoed, his tone suddenly sharp. “What kind of supplies?”
“Uh… arts and crafts…?” she stammered, clearly starting to get uncomfortable.
“Arts and crafts?” He leaned in, dropping his voice to a low, conspiratorial whisper. “Or something else?”
You saw the poor girl’s eyes widen, her grip tightening on her clipboard as if she was contemplating using it as a shield.
“Bucky, stop,” you hissed, stepping forward to intervene. But he was on a roll now.
“Who gets the money, huh?” He narrowed his eyes, peering down at her like she was an enemy combatant. “Do you get it?
“Or does it go to some mysterious ‘troop leader’ who’s hiding behind a desk somewhere, raking in profits from innocent cookie sales?”
“M-Mister, it’s just cookies,” she squeaked, glancing nervously at the boxes stacked beside her. “We just wanna go camping this summer.”
“Camping?” he repeated slowly, as if tasting the word. “And what kind of ‘camping’ are we talking about here? Deep-woods recon training? SERE training?”
The girl blinked up at him, clearly having no idea what he was talking about.
“Bucky, she’s nine!” you practically shouted, rushing over to save the poor child from what was rapidly escalating into a full-blown interrogation.
“But Y/N, this could be—”
“It’s not a conspiracy, Bucky!” you snapped, turning to the girl and giving her what you hoped was a reassuring smile. “Sweetie, how much for a box of Thin Mints?”
“Uh… f-five dollars?” she stammered, still eyeing Bucky like he might suddenly sprout fangs.
You reached for your wallet, pulling out a ten-dollar bill and handing it to her. “Keep the change.”
“Thank you, ma’am!” she squeaked, stuffing the money into her pouch with trembling hands.
You shot Bucky a glare. “Apologize.”
He crossed his arms, looking mulish. “But—”
“Bucky.”
He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. Uh… sorry… for, um… asking about your troop leader and, uh… the money laundering?”
The girl blinked up at him, clearly not following.
“Bucky!” you hissed, elbowing him sharply.
“I mean, sorry for… for… being weird,” he mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets.
The girl gave a hesitant nod, glancing back at her stack of cookies. “Um… would you like another box, mister?”
Bucky frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe. Which one’s the best?”
“Bucky—” you started, but he was already leaning down, listening intently as the girl launched into a detailed explanation of the flavour profiles of Samoas versus Tagalongs.
Twenty minutes later, Bucky was the proud owner of a dozen boxes of Girl Scout cookies, which the girl somehow managed to upsell him into buying. The look of relief on her face as she walked away was palpable.
You turned to Bucky, hands on your hips. “Really, Buck?”
“What?” he said defensively, clutching his armful of cookies. “I needed to make sure it was legit!”
“Uh-huh. And that’s why we now have enough cookies to feed an army?”
He shrugged, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “I guess I got carried away.”
“Just… try not to scare any more children, okay?”
“Hey, I was just being thorough,” he muttered, glancing down at the boxes. “Besides… these ‘Samoas’ are actually pretty good.”
You shook your head, laughing despite yourself. Because only Bucky Barnes could turn a simple cookie sale into a full-scale interrogation—and then end up buying out the entire stock.
“Whatever you say, Bucky. Whatever you say.”
He gave you a sheepish grin, holding up a box of Thin Mints. “Want one?”
“Sure,” you sighed, reaching out to grab a cookie. Because, at the end of the day, this was Bucky Barnes: ex-assassin, super-soldier, and now… terrifyingly dedicated Girl Scout cookie connoisseur.
The Girl Scout incident, unfortunately, didn’t mark the end of Bucky’s neighbourhood watch endeavours.
“Hey, Y/N, that’s the third day in a row Mrs. Higginson has gone jogging past our house,” Bucky muttered a few days later, scribbling furiously in his notebook.
You glanced over from your spot on the couch, raising an eyebrow. “Uh-huh,” you replied absently, already wondering if now would be a good time to text Steve for a little ‘rescue mission.’ “Maybe she likes jogging?”
“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not natural. It’s a cover for something. Probably espionage.”
“Bucky, she’s seventy.”
“Exactly. No one that age moves like that. She’s gotta be a retired agent.”
“Or she’s trying to stay in shape?”
“Or she’s spying on us.” He narrowed his eyes, peering through the blinds. “Maybe she’s HYDRA.”
“Bucky, she brought us homemade banana bread last week.”
“Which tasted suspiciously good,” he muttered darkly, tapping his pen against his chin. “I’m keeping an eye on her.”
It didn’t stop there. He began obsessively tracking patterns—when neighbors took out their trash, when they left for work, who picked up their mail first thing in the morning. His conspiracy board rivaled the one you’d seen at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, complete with photos, string, and a suspiciously large map of the neighborhood.
“Y/N, I need to talk to you.”
You blinked, looking up from your book. “What’s up, Buck?”
He leaned in, his voice low and serious. “Did you know Mrs. Patterson’s dog peed on our lawn three times this week?”
“I—what?”
“And Mr. Thompson left his house twice yesterday. Twice.”
“…is that a crime?”
“Yes. Who leaves the house twice in one day? He’s clearly up to something.”
“Like… groceries?”
Bucky frowned. “No. Something bigger. I saw him walking to his car, get this—without any bags.”
“Maybe he forgot something?”
He shook his head, eyes narrowed. “It’s a diversion tactic. I’m keeping a close watch on him.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re stalking the neighbours.”
“Of course not!” He paused. “I’m… observing. For science.”
“For science?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, Buck. I’m putting my foot down,” you finally managed. “You need to stop this. The neighbours think we’re crazy. You’re scaring the kids and… the mailman won’t come to the door anymore.”
Bucky looked genuinely confused. “Why not?”
“Because you interrogated him about his route last week!”
“He was being shady!”
“He’s a mailman!”
There was a long pause as you stared each other down, Bucky looking defiant and you looking exhausted. Finally, you sighed and ran a hand through your hair.
“Buck… I know retirement is hard. But you need a new outlet. Maybe something a little less—”
“Paranoid?” he offered, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah. And a little less terrifying for the neighbours.”
He sighed deeply, like you’d just asked him to hang up his shield all over again. “I was just… trying to be useful.”
Your heart softened immediately. Because that was what it all boiled down to, wasn’t it? The man who’d spent his life fighting wars and doing battle against his own mind was now left trying to figure out how to fit into a world that no longer needed him to save it.
You walked over, placing your hands on his shoulders and giving him a soft smile. “You’re always useful, Buck. Even if you’re not interrogating the mailman about federal postal regulations or… spying on seventy-year-old retirees.”
He snorted, shaking his head. “I might’ve gone a little overboard, huh?”
“A little,” you agreed with a grin. “Maybe you should find something else to watch over.”
“Like what?” he asked, looking genuinely curious.
You bit your lip, thinking. “I don’t know… Maybe get a pet? You could… I don’t know, babysit a cat or something.”
Bucky blinked at you. Then his eyes lit up like you’d just handed him the Holy Grail of retirement activities.
“A cat,” he murmured slowly, as if testing the word. “A cat.”
“Yes, a cat,” you repeated cautiously, wondering if you’d just unleashed some new kind of havoc on the house. “You could train it to… I don’t know, not scratch the furniture or something.”
“Or… I could train it to keep an eye on the pigeons,” he muttered to himself, looking thoughtful.
“Wait, what?”
But Bucky had already gone inside, the gears in his mind clearly turning. You shook your head, deciding to let him have this one. After all, how much trouble could he really get into with a cat?
Phase 5: The Pet Phase (aka Operation: Find a Feline Friend)
Duration: Ongoing, with Fur Everywhere
You didn’t think he’d take it seriously. Until you came home the next day to find Bucky sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, a small, white ball of fluff curled up in his lap.
“This is Alpine,” he announced proudly.
You stared at the kitten, then at Bucky, then back at the kitten. “Bucky, what… why…?”
“You said get a pet,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “So I did.”
And that’s how Alpine, the grumpy old woman in a cat’s body, became part of your household. Bucky spent weeks trying to train him (“Sit, Alpine! Sit! … Okay, fine, just glare at me, that works too.”), set up elaborate obstacle courses (“Alpine, jump! No, don’t walk away—okay, you know what, just do your thing”), and spoiled her rotten with toys and treats.
With each phase, Bucky’s retirement became a new adventure. And while it drove you absolutely crazy at times, you couldn’t help but smile when you saw Bucky lying on the couch, Alpine curled up on his chest, both looking completely content.
“Retirement isn’t so bad, huh?” you teased one evening, curling up beside him.
He hummed thoughtfully, scratching behind Alpine’s ears. “I don’t know… I think I could use a new project.”
You groaned, but your groan turned into a laugh when he grinned at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Oh no,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “No more projects, Barnes. You’ve nearly redecorated us out of house and home, scared the mailman half to death, and—”
“Don’t forget the gourmet cookies,” he interjected with a cheeky smile.
You shot him a playful glare. “I’m trying to forget the cookies, thank you.”
“Aw, come on. I think I finally got the recipe down. I’ll just try one more—”
“No!” you practically shouted, your voice echoing through the living room. Alpine, unbothered, merely lifted her head, gave you both a disinterested look, and went back to napping.
Bucky chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. No more cookies. No more redecorating. No more… scaring the Girl Scouts.”
“Or spying on the neighbors.”
“Or spying on the neighbors,” he agreed, still looking a little too amused for your liking.
You sighed, leaning back into the couch and resting your head on his shoulder. “You know, most people take up hobbies like gardening or painting in retirement.”
Bucky nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, but those aren’t as exciting.”
“They’re not supposed to be exciting. They’re supposed to be calm. That’s the whole point of retirement, Buck.”
He glanced down at you, his gaze softening. “You really think I’m the ‘calm’ type, doll?”
You snorted. “No, not really. But it would be nice if, just once, I didn’t come home to find you plotting to build a moat around the house.”
“Moats are an excellent defense mechanism,” he said matter-of-factly. “But okay, I get it. I’ll tone it down.”
You gave him a skeptical look. “You promise?”
“Scout’s honor,” he said, holding up his right hand. The glint in his eye, however, told you he was already planning something new.
“Bucky…”
“What?” he asked, all innocence. “You don’t trust me?”
“Not for a second.”
He chuckled, then pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. “Alright, no more projects. I’ll just focus on Alpine. She’s a full-time job anyway.”
You glanced at the cat, who was now sprawled out like she owned the place. “You’ve turned her into a diva, you know.”
“He’s just refined,” Bucky said defensively. “He’s got standards.”
“Uh-huh. Like the way he refuses to eat unless you hand-feed her?”
“Refined,” Bucky insisted.
“And how she sleeps on your side of the bed and shoves you off with her tiny, evil paws?”
“Selective.”
“And how she sits on the counter staring at you like she’s plotting your demise?”
“Observant.”
You shook your head, laughing softly. “You’ve created a monster, Bucky.”
“Eh,” he said with a shrug, smirking down at you. “I’ve handled worse monsters. She’s a good one. Besides,” he added, scratching Alpine’s head fondly, “she’s family.”
Your heart softened at his words, and you smiled up at him. “Yeah, I guess she is.”
There was a comfortable silence as you both sat there, content in the peaceful moment.
Then Bucky cleared his throat, and you glanced up to see him shifting slightly, like he was working up the nerve to say something.
“So… I was thinking…” he began slowly.
“Bucky.”
“No, no, hear me out,” he said quickly, raising his hands as if to ward off your incoming refusal. “What if we… I dunno… made a baby?”
You blinked, certain you hadn’t heard him correctly. “What?”
“A baby,” he repeated, his voice steady, though there was a telltale blush creeping up his neck. “You know, a little human—our human. Someone we can train to take over the world… or at least keep me entertained.”
Your jaw dropped open. “You want to have a baby—because you’re bored?”
Bucky gave you a sheepish grin. “I mean, I was thinking it could be a good project… long-term investment… future troublemaker…”
“Bucky,” you interrupted, placing your hands on his shoulders and staring at him, bewildered. “Are you seriously suggesting having a child like it’s another DIY project?”
He shrugged, looking as nonchalant as ever, but his eyes were soft and serious. “Maybe. But I was also thinking it’d be nice to have something, or someone, that’s just… ours. A mix of you and me. Something that isn’t tied to the past, or fighting, or… all the other stuff.”
You stared at him, trying to wrap your mind around the sudden turn the conversation had taken. “You really want a baby, Bucky?”
He nodded slowly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah. I do. Don’t get me wrong, Alpine’s great and all, but…” He sighed, his smile turning tender. “I just think it’d be amazing to have something more. I’ve spent so much of my life taking orders or fighting ghosts. But starting a family with you? That’s something I get to build. Something that’s ours.”
You bit your lip, heart swelling at his words. Despite the completely unromantic way he’d suggested it, there was sincerity in his gaze, a yearning for something deeper than fixing leaky faucets or buying out the Girl Scouts’ entire cookie stock.
“And you think you’d be a good dad?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.
“Please,” he scoffed, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’d be the best damn dad. I’d teach our kid how to throw a proper punch by age five, dismantle a toaster by six—”
You laughed, shaking your head. “So, what you’re saying is… you want to raise a tiny super-soldier?”
His grin widened. “Hell yeah.”
“Bucky, we are not turning our child into a mini-Winter Soldier.”
He pouted dramatically. “Not even a little bit?”
“Not even a little bit,” you affirmed with a chuckle. You leaned in, resting your forehead against his. “But… maybe we could talk about it. You know, actually talk. Not just… plan a tactical baby mission.”
Bucky’s eyes softened as he brushed his thumb along your cheek. “Yeah. We can talk about it.” He paused, then added with a mischievous glint, “After we practice a little more.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Oh my God, Bucky.”
“What?” he asked innocently, his grin widening. “Practice makes perfect, right?”
You shook your head, letting out a breathy laugh. “You’re incorrigible.”
“And you love me for it,” he murmured, leaning in to capture your lips in a soft, lingering kiss.
“Yeah,” you whispered when he pulled away, your heart fluttering in your chest. “I do.”
You glanced down at Alpine, who was still sprawled across Bucky’s lap, looking utterly uninterested in the conversation. A baby. You hadn’t really thought about it seriously before, but now that Bucky had put the idea in your head… you couldn’t help but wonder.
There was a brief pause as Bucky gazed at you, his expression growing thoughtful. “You know,” he began quietly, “after that whole Girl Scout cookie fiasco… I kinda started thinking… I’d really like to have a daughter.”
You blinked at him, surprised. “A daughter?”
“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice softening. “That kid was just so… brave, you know? Standing there, staring me down even though I was being a total idiot. It reminded me of you—fierce and unafraid. I couldn’t stop thinking… what if we had a daughter like that? Strong, smart, and completely capable of putting me in my place when I get out of line.”
You felt your heart clench at his words, his quiet admission making your chest ache. “You want a little girl because she’d keep you in check?”
“That,” he said, smiling softly, “and I think I’d like the challenge. I’ve spent so much of my life dealing with people who only saw me as a weapon. I just… want to prove that I can be something else. That I can be gentle… and kind… and love someone unconditionally. The way I love you.”
You reached up, cupping his face gently. “Bucky, you don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”
“I know,” he murmured, his gaze warm and intense. “But I still want to try. And I want to be the kind of dad who isn’t just a protector, but a friend. Someone who’d sit through endless tea parties and help her build pillow forts… and buy all the Girl Scout cookies she wants without scaring anyone.”
You laughed softly, tears stinging your eyes at the picture he painted. “You’d be a great dad, Bucky.”
“Yeah?” he asked, his voice low and hopeful.
“Yeah,” you whispered, smiling up at him.
There was another beat of silence before Bucky leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “So… when do we start?”
You felt your cheeks heat, a mix of laughter and surprise bubbling up in your chest. “Bucky!”
“What?” he asked, his smile as innocent as ever. “I’m just asking. I mean, you know I’m a man of action. Gotta have a timeline.”
“Oh my God,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands as Bucky laughed softly, his arms wrapping around you.
“Okay, okay,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair. “No rush. We’ll take it one day at a time, sweetheart. But just know… I’m ready whenever you are.”
And somehow, you knew this next phase—whatever it looked like—was going to be the best one yet.
× × × ×
Ten months later
The soft glow of the nightlight bathed the nursery in a warm, golden hue, casting gentle shadows on the pale blue walls. The room was still, save for the quiet creak of the rocking chair as Bucky swayed back and forth, holding the tiniest bundle of joy in his strong, yet tender arms.
His daughter, barely a week old, was nestled against his chest, her small, delicate breaths in sync with the steady rhythm of his own. Her tiny fist curled around the fabric of his shirt, as if she knew just how safe and loved she was in her daddy's arms.
Bucky hummed quietly, the familiar melody of an old lullaby drifting into the air. It was a song his mother used to sing to him when he was no older than his sweet little girl was now. The words came softly, almost whispered, as if they were sacred—meant only for his daughter.
“Darling, you're my bloodYou have my heartbeatYou have my heartbeat, beating loud,”
His voice was gruff, yet softened by emotion as he sang, the gentle rocking lulling his daughter further into her peaceful slumber. His fingers brushed through her soft, downy hair as he looked down at her with nothing short of awe. How had he, of all people, gotten so lucky?
He had been through so much darkness in his life—seen and done things he would never be able to forget—but here, in this quiet moment, everything seemed to fade away. The world outside could wait. Right now, his whole universe was cradled in his arms, and for the first time in a long time, Bucky Barnes felt at peace.
Unbeknownst to him, you stood at the door, your heart swelling at the sight before you. You had come to check on them both, worried that Bucky might need help with the baby. But when you saw him there, rocking your little girl and singing so sweetly, you couldn’t bring yourself to interrupt.
A soft smile tugged at your lips as you leaned against the doorframe, content to watch the love of your life in this vulnerable, beautiful moment. 
Bucky was a natural, even if he didn’t believe it. You had seen the worry in his eyes when you first brought your daughter home—the fear that he wouldn’t be good enough, that he wouldn’t know what to do. But here he was, proving himself wrong in the most heart-melting way possible.
The lullaby continued, each note filled with so much love it made your eyes mist over.
"You are my lighthouseA peak of light from the dark cloudsI've lived under my whole life. . .And there's nothing I won't do for you."
Bucky’s voice cracked just a little on the last line, overcome with emotion as he gazed down at his daughter and carefully wiped his tears away. 
She had his eyes—bright and full of wonder, even when they were closed in slumber. He couldn’t help but trace the delicate features of her face with his gaze, committing every tiny detail to memory.
Finally, you couldn’t resist any longer. You stepped into the room quietly, not wanting to startle him. Bucky looked up, surprise flickering across his face when he saw you standing there. His expression softened when he realised you had been watching him.
“How long have you been standing there?” he asked, his voice low so as not to wake the baby.
“Long enough,” you replied, your smile widening as you walked over to him.
Bucky blushed, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “I’m not exactly a professional.”
“I beg to differ, I think you’re the best dad in the world.” you whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his temple. 
Bucky’s heart swelled at your words. He never imagined he would be here—sitting in a nursery, holding his newborn daughter while the love of his life stood beside him, calling him the best dad in the world. It still felt like a dream.
“She’s so small,” he murmured, looking back down at the baby. “So fragile. I didn’t think…I didn’t think I could love someone I barely knew this much.”
Your hand gently rested on his shoulder as you gazed down at your daughter. “You’ve got a big heart, James. I always knew you’d be amazing as a father.”
He glanced up at you, eyes soft and full of affection. “You’re the amazing one.”
You reached out to gently stroke the baby’s cheek, and Bucky leaned into your touch, feeling more complete than he ever thought possible.
“I never thought I’d have this,” he admitted after a long silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “A family. A reason to feel…whole again.”
You knelt down beside him, resting your head against his shoulder. “You deserve it, Bucky. You deserve all the happiness in the world.”
Bucky kissed the top of youe head, holding you close as he continued to rock your daughter. The world outside could be chaotic and unforgiving, but in this room, in this moment, everything was perfect.
× × × ×
Baby at six months
The house was peaceful, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow through the windows. You were out running errands, leaving Bucky home with their now six-month-old daughter, who was currently kicking her chubby little legs and babbling on her playmat. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she reached for her favorite stuffed bear, the one Bucky had given her the day she was born.
Bucky sat beside her, legs crossed, watching her every move like she was the most fascinating thing on the planet. He leaned down, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. 
“You know, blossom,” he began, glancing over his shoulder dramatically as if checking to make sure Y/N wasn’t around. “Your mom thinks she’s the boss.”
Their daughter let out a high-pitched squeal, and Bucky grinned. 
“Right? Can you believe it?” he continued, keeping his voice low as if sharing the biggest secret in the world. “She thinks she’s in charge around here. But between you and me, we know the truth.”
His little girl giggled again, her tiny hands grasping at the air as if she was agreeing with him.
“See, you and I?” Bucky said, tapping his finger gently on her nose, “We’re a team. We know how to get things done. I mean, just look at us—surviving nap time, figuring out how to stack those weird little ring toys, and we don’t even need to look at the instructions. Meanwhile, your mom still thinks I can’t fold laundry properly.”
He paused for dramatic effect, raising his brows. “Can you believe that? Laundry. I fought in World War II, and she’s worried I’ll mess up the towels.”
His daughter let out a delighted shriek, her little legs kicking excitedly. Bucky reached over and tickled her belly gently, making her burst into even more giggles.
“Oh, yeah, I know you think it’s funny,” Bucky chuckled. “But trust me, your mom’s got some pretty high laundry standards. I tried to fold one towel, just one, and she came over with this look like I’d committed a crime. 'Bucky, that’s not how you fold them!' she said. And I’m standing there like, ‘It’s a towel, not a top-secret mission.’”
He leaned in closer, as if telling her something top-secret. “She doesn’t know this, but I might’ve folded them wrong on purpose so I wouldn’t have to do it anymore.”
His daughter cooed, her tiny hand reaching out to grab his finger, which she promptly brought to her mouth to chew on. Bucky let her, his heart melting at the sight. She was his little sidekick, always hanging on his every word, even if she didn’t fully understand yet.
“And don’t even get me started on the bedtime routine,” Bucky continued, shaking his head in mock exasperation. “Your mom’s got this whole plan—bath, story, lights out. Meanwhile, you and me? We’ve got a better plan. We chill, we rock, maybe sing a little. You get all cozy, and bam—out like a light.”
“Bababababa,” His daughter babbled something back at him, her little voice full of enthusiasm, and Bucky nodded seriously. 
“Exactly. That’s what I’ve been saying. We’ve got this figured out.”
He scooped her up from the mat and held her close, her head resting comfortably against his chest as he walked them over to the couch. He sat down, cradling her in his arms, and continued his lighthearted rant.
“And the thing is, she’s always right, which drives me crazy. Like, the other day, she told me you were gonna try to crawl soon. I thought, ‘Nah, she’s too young.’ But then what happens? Two days later, you’re scooting around like you’ve got places to be. I swear, your mom’s a psychic or something.”
Bucky gazed down at his daughter, who was now looking up at him with those wide blue eyes that never failed to melt his heart. She let out a happy gurgle, and Bucky chuckled softly, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.
“You know I’m just kidding, right? Your mom’s the best. She takes care of both of us.” He sighed, feeling a rush of affection as he thought about Y/N. “Don’t tell her, but I’m pretty lucky to have her. She keeps me in line.”
Just then, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the house, and Bucky’s head shot up in mock panic.
“Uh-oh,” he whispered to his daughter, his eyes wide with exaggerated worry. “The boss is back. Don’t say anything.”
You appeared in the doorway, raising an eyebrow as you saw Bucky and the baby cozied up on the couch. “What are you two up to?” you asked, a knowing smile on your lips.
Bucky gave you his most innocent look, bouncing your daughter gently in his arms. “Oh, nothing. Just hanging out with my best girl here. Right, darling?”
The baby let out a little squeal, clearly delighted by the attention.
“Mmhmm,” You said, stepping closer and giving Bucky a playful look. “You haven’t been filling her head with nonsense, have you?”
“Me? Never,” Bucky replied, trying to keep a straight face. “We were just talking about how great you are. Isn’t that right, kiddo?”
Bianca, oblivious to the conversation, giggled and reached for you, and took her from Bucky’s arms and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Well, if she grows up thinking she’s in charge, I’ll know who to blame,” You teased, casting a glance at Bucky.
He grinned, leaning back on the couch. “Hey, she’s gotta learn from the best.”
You smiled, shaking your head in mock defeat. “You’re lucky she likes you so much.”
Bucky stood and wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder as you both looked down at your little girl, now happily nestled between you. “I’m lucky to have both of you,” he murmured softly, kissing the side of your head.
And in that moment, with his two favorite girls in his arms, Bucky couldn’t imagine a better kind of luck.
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rebelfell · 10 days ago
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Sooo this started out being all cute and fluffy but veered over the edge into the flangst canyon…my bad. 💌 1.8k
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Thinking about bestfriend!eddie who shows up your boyfriend on Valentine’s Day.
Unintentionally, of course.
It was never something he planned to do. 
He just happened to be in CVS the night before, blazed out of his mind and wandering aimlessly while the guys argued about what snacks to get. And when he made the mistake of turning onto the designated holiday aisle, he was met with a barrage of pink and red glitter and sparkles and hearts exploding off every shelf—an absolute affrontal assault to his cynical sensibilities. 
But then he picks up this one card that catches his eye. It’s got a watercolor painting of this cute little porcupine who’s holding a heart-shaped box of chocolates, and there’s a speech bubble at the top that says “I Porcu-PINE for you!”
Eddie absolutely loses it.
He stands there making these stuttering giggling sounds and they’re coming out way louder than he intended, and the pimply and dead-eyed clerk behind the register leans over to give the laziest evil eye Eddie has ever seen. He does his best to stifle himself, but more little snickers still eke out as he picks up the envelope that goes with the card, and starts scanning the shelves for the Valentine’s variation of your favorite candy.
(Because it would be weird just to do the card, right? If he throws in some other stuff too, maybe it’ll be less conspicuous. Yeah? That makes sense, doesn’t it? Yeah, totally it does.)
Before he knows it, he’s collected a whole armload of crap. Two bags of the candies (they’re 2 for $5, that just makes good business sense), a little plushie with giant sparkly eyes (its stare is hypnotizing in an odd way, it kind of reminds him of you), and a small (tiny, honestly) bouquet of daisies wrapped in crinkly cellophane (he knows you like those way more than you like roses.)
He puts it all down on the counter and gets another withering glare from the cashier after he’s rung it all up. Eddie wonders if this guy is judging him; thinks he’s some lazy, loser boyfriend buying a bunch of junk gifts at the last possible minute. But Eddie doesn’t have the mental capability at the moment to explain that he’s not even buying these for a girlfriend—they’re all for his best friend, who he sometimes, occasionally, has some slightly inappropriate thoughts about, which yeah, is kind of inconvenient in a lot of ways, but it’s cool, he’s fine with that—
There’s another huff from the cashier as he repeats the total due, and Eddie realizes this guy doesn’t give a shit that Eddie might be a crappy boyfriend, he’s much more annoyed by the fact that he has yet to take out his wallet. And as he scrambles to do so, the rest of Corroded Coffin comes up to the front, still loudly arguing about the snacks they’re carrying in their hands.
They all give Eddie a funny look when they see what he’s getting, Grant being the first to bluntly ask who it’s for. They fall silent, exchanging wary glances when Eddie mumbles your name under his breath as he hands over a creased and wrinkled bill to pay at long last.
“That’s super weird, man, don’t do that,” Jeff argues immediately. “Just give it to Gareth, and he can give it to Annie instead. Problem solved.”
“Excuse me,” Gareth snaps, “but I’ve gotten my girl her gifts and they’re a hell of a lot better than this crap. Er, uhh…no offense.”
Their drummer winces, and his eyes dart guiltily between Eddie and his purchases.
“No—” Eddie’s face scrunches and he shakes his head defiantly. “They’re not, like, serious gifts. It doesn’t mean anything. And she’s dating that rich asshole, I’m sure he’s gonna bury her in expensive shit. This is barely gonna land on her radar,” he insists, now clutching his bag in his fist.
“So then why bother?” Jeff asks, widening his annoyingly perceptive eyes under arched brows. 
But Eddie doesn’t respond. He just stomps out to the parking lot and waits by the car. All the while thinking about all the things he can never quite manage to say out loud when it comes to you.
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The next day, Eddie’s rethinking everything.
Sober now and staring down at the offerings piled up in the van’s passenger seat, he can’t help but think this might be the stupidest thing he’s ever done in his life. And that’s saying something.
He talks himself in and out of going through with it about twenty times just in the ten minute drive it takes him to get to your apartment. And even as he climbs the stairs and raises his hand to knock, he has yet to decide if this is a good idea or not.
He came over semi-early, figuring you’d likely be busy later getting ready for some fancy dinner at some restaurant where Eddie probably couldn’t afford to order so much as a glass of water. 
But when you open the door, he can’t help but frown at your appearance. You don’t look like you are getting ready to go out, if anything you look like you’ve retired for the evening before 5pm.
Your face is bare except for a couple spots of zit cream, and you have on an old headband pushing your hair back out of your face. You’re swathed in the kind of baggy, oversized clothes he only sees you in when you’re ass deep in a cold or some other similarly debilitating illness. 
You don’t look sick, though. Just…sad?
How can you be sad on Love’s birthday?
“Hey, uhhh,” he says, forcing a tight smile. His palms start to sweat around the plastic handles he’s clutching behind his back. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you reply.
There’s no sharpness to it, yet it still comes out kind of flat. Like you’re trying not to sound upset. But Eddie doesn’t push it as he follows you to the kitchen, sliding into his usual seat at your bar.
“What’s that?” you ask, eyes falling to the bag he plopped down on top of the counter.
“It’s stupid,” Eddie starts, “just some dumb little things I picked up.” For you, he adds in his head.
A small smile finally breaks the thin line your lips had been set in since he arrived and Eddie’s back broke out in a cold sweat under his leather jacket as he bashfully pushed the bag over to you.
He then watches, choking on his own heart, as you start pulling things out one by one.
You grin at the daisies, bringing them to your nose to sniff even though they probably smell more like weed than flowers after spending all night in the trailer. You squeal over the plushie, holding it up next to your face and squishing it. You hum excitedly at the first bag of candies, and laugh when you pull out a second one.
Then you get to the card.
Your eyes roll, but you can’t help smiling when you see Eddie’s nickname for you scrawled on the front of the envelope in his chicken scratch. And you’re still smiling as you slide your finger under the flap to tear through the bright red casing.
Then you read it, and your smile falls.
Your whole face does, in fact. It starts with a minute tremble of your chin that escalates into your brow pinching and your mouth crumpling into a frown. And you seem to clench every single muscle in your face to stop yourself from crying, but you just can’t keep it from happening.
“Hey, hey, wait, no, no, nooooo—”
Eddie doesn’t think, he doesn’t take a second to consider doing anything differently, he just jumps to his feet and comes around the counter to your side. He puts his arms around you automatically, letting you bury your face in his chest as you cling to him and try to settle yourself.
“I’m so-sorry, I’m s-so sorry, I’m sorry,” you babble, blubbering through the words.
“No, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I swear, I just thought it was cute, I didn’t mean to—”
“It is cute,” you wail as tears stream down your cheeks, “It’s fucking adorable!”
“Okay, then what’s the problem?” Eddie chuckles, pulling back slightly and ducking his head to look you in the eye, trying to get you to smile back.
You sniffle a few more times before you manage to collect yourself and swipe your fingers under your eyes to smear the wetness of your tears across your cheeks. Eddie’s fists clench at his sides to stop them from reaching up to do it again for you when you miss a stray one.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve been in such a weird funk all day since Matt, um…”
Your voice wobbled again and Eddie’s expression turned stony, scolding himself inwardly for letting even a tiny bit of excitement rise in his chest at the thought that you might have broken up.
“Is everything okay?” he asked. “I mean, did you guys…are you…”
“No, nothing like that,” you inhaled shakily. “He just…he doesn’t really do Valentine’s Day. And it feels so stupid to get upset over it. Like it’s just a dumb holiday, and I don’t need, like, presents or a dinner or flowers or anything like that. I just…”
Your arms crossed, as if you were trying to hug yourself. Eddie wished he could do it for you.
“I don’t know, I thought we’d do something,” you finally add quietly.
“He’s not even coming over?” Eddie scoffs. Suddenly the outfit made more sense. “At all?”
Your eyes closed in a pained wince. “Don’t make me feel worse, please,” you beg him somberly.
“No, I—” Eddie sucks in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to upset you. Honest.”
His head dropped guiltily, eyes glued to his sneakers that stood out against the tile in your kitchen. He glanced one last time at all the stupid stuff he bought now strewn across your counter.
“You don’t have to apologize,” you told him firmly. “That was really sweet, Eddie. Seriously, like the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
Your hand reaches out for the plushie again and you cradle it in your palm as you swoop in to drop a light peck on his cheek. The warmth of it makes Eddie’s whole face hot and he feels his neck tense from how much he wishes he could turn his head to the side and allow for his lips to meet yours. 
But of course he doesn’t. He wouldn’t dare.
He sure would think about it, though.
Eddie was still staring at his feet, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off you for long. He glanced back up to see you pushing through all of the extraneous things you were feeling to give him a smile, small as it was. He nodded and opened his arms, welcoming you back into them.
“Anytime, sweetheart,” he whispered into your hair. Too quiet even for you to hear him.
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I thought for a while about whether or not this is them, but I think this might be an entirely different set of idiots.
also is it just me or is v-day particularly oppressive this year?
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yua0ra · 1 month ago
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𝐎𝐟 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬, 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
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WARNINGS: mattheo riddle x slytherin!fem!reader, friends to lovers, playful banter, kissing, SFW, not proofread, english is not my first language.
fluff ☏
SUMMARY: You’re trying to study in the library, but Mattheo is more focused on being charming and annoying in equal measure. After some teasing, and him claiming to be a “delicate flower,” he finally drops the act and confesses he likes you. Turns out, you like him too (shocking, right?). Cue a sweet, awkward kiss that makes all the banter worth it. And of course, Mattheo immediately uses this new relationship status as an excuse to distract you even more. Typical.
WC: 1.4K AN: Small drabble of sweet Matty confessing his feelings :)
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:
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The library was quiet, save for the faint rustle of pages and the occasional thud of a book being shelved. You were hunched over your notes, quill in hand, trying to make sense of the convoluted explanation in your textbook. Across the table, Mattheo was reclining in his chair, twirling a quill between his fingers with a smirk that told you he was anything but focused.
“Are you planning to actually help, or are you just here to look pretty?” you asked, not bothering to glance up from your parchment.
“Looking pretty is a full-time job,” Mattheo quipped, his grin widening. “But if you insist, I could try to dumb it down for you.”
You shot him a glare, and he raised his hands in mock surrender.
“Kidding! Don’t hex me, please. I’m fragile.”
“Fragile? You?” you snorted, shaking your head. “That’s rich coming from the guy who got into three duels last week and didn’t even flinch when he got hit by a Stunning Spell.”
“Exactly,” he said smugly. “It’s all a facade. Deep down, I’m a delicate flower.”
“A delicate flower who doesn’t know the difference between a bezoar and a bicorn horn,” you muttered under your breath, earning an offended gasp from him.
“Hey, I’ll have you know I’m a wealth of useless knowledge,” Mattheo shot back, leaning forward on his elbows. “Go on, quiz me. I dare you.”
You arched a brow, deciding to humor him. “Fine. What’s the incantation for a Summoning Charm?”
“Accio,” he said instantly, looking pleased with himself.
“That one was so easy,” you replied, unimpressed.
“What’s the primary ingredient in Veritaserum?” He blinked, caught off guard, before squinting at you suspiciously. “That’s not a fair question. No one actually knows that.”
“Incorrect,” you said, smirking. “The answer is: someone who actually studies.”
Mattheo groaned, dropping his head onto the table dramatically. “You’re cruel. You know that, right?”
“I prefer ��motivational,’” you said sweetly, turning back to your notes.
He lifted his head just enough to peer at you, a lazy grin tugging at his lips. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re smug.”
Your quill paused mid-stroke, heat creeping up your neck at his casual remark. “You’re so annoying,” you muttered, trying to ignore the way your heart was suddenly racing.
Mattheo chuckled, the sound low and warm. “And yet, here you are, willingly stuck with me. What does that say about you?”
“It says I’m regretting my life choices,” you shot back, but the faint smile on your lips betrayed you.
He leaned back again, studying you with a look that was softer than usual. “Nah, you’d miss me if I wasn’t here.” You rolled your eyes, refusing to admit he was right. “Keep telling yourself that, Riddle.”
“Don’t have to. I can see it in your face,” he teased, pointing at you.
“You’re insufferable.”
“And you love it,” he said, his tone light but his eyes lingering on you for just a moment too long.
The playful energy shifted slightly, the banter fading as an unspoken tension filled the space between you.
Mattheo hesitated, then stood abruptly, walking around the table to stand beside you. “Come on,” he said, holding out a hand. You frowned, looking up at him. “What are you doing?”
“Stealing you away for a minute,” he replied with a crooked grin. “You need a break. You’re going to fry your brain with all that studying.”
Despite yourself, you took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. “If this is another one of your dumb pranks—”
“It’s not,” he cut in, his voice softening. “Just trust me, okay?” He led you through the maze of bookshelves, finally stopping in a secluded corner where the world felt smaller and quieter.
He turned to face you, his hand still holding yours.
“You’re acting weird,” you said, narrowing your eyes.
“For once, I’m not,” he murmured, his gaze searching yours. “I just… there’s something I’ve been meaning to say.”
You blinked, your heart picking up speed at the shift in his tone.
“What is it?”
He hesitated, his usual confidence faltering. ‘It’s now or never Mattheo, come on now.’
“I like you,” he said finally, the words coming out in a rush.
“More than just as a friend. And if I don’t say it now, I feel like I never will.”
Your breath caught in your throat, his words echoing in your mind. For a moment, you could only stare at him, the vulnerability in his eyes so unlike the confident, teasing Mattheo you knew.
“I…” you started, but your voice faltered.
His hand began to slip from yours, and the sight of him pulling away sparked something in you.
“No, wait,” you said quickly, your fingers tightening around his.
His eyes flicked back to yours, hope mingling with hesitation on his face.
You exhaled a shaky breath, your heart pounding in your chest. “I like you too, Mattheo. I have for a while now. I just… I didn’t know how to say it.”
His eyes widened slightly, and for a second, you thought he might not believe you. But then his lips tugged into the softest smile you’d ever seen, one that reached his dark, expressive eyes.
“You’re serious?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You nodded, a small, nervous laugh escaping you. “I mean, why else would I willingly put up with you? Let’s be honest, you’re a bit of a nightmare.”
He chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. “Fair point. But you’re not exactly subtle, you know.” Your cheeks flushed. “Excuse me?”
“I’ve caught you staring at me more times than I can count,” he teased, his smirk returning. “You’re terrible at hiding it.”
“I was not staring,” you protested, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.
“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” he said, stepping closer until the space between you was nearly nonexistent.
“But for what it’s worth, I’ve been staring at you too.”
Your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face. “Well, I guess we’re both terrible at hiding it then.”
He laughed softly, the sound warm and genuine. “Guess so.”
Mattheo hesitantly leans closer, his breath warm and gentle against your skin. His eyes search yours, soft with vulnerability, as he timidly nudges his nose against yours—a silent, tender plea for permission, waiting for your response.
Your heart flutters at the intimate gesture, his closeness sending a warmth through your chest.
Slowly, you tilt your head, answering his unspoken question without words. Mattheo’s lips hover just a whisper away from yours, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your mouth as if ensuring this is what you want. When your fingers brush against his, giving a reassuring squeeze, his hesitation melts away.
With a soft exhale, Mattheo closes the distance, capturing your lips in a kiss so tender it feels as if he’s afraid to break you. It’s gentle, unhurried, and filled with a quiet intensity that makes the world around you fade away.
The kiss deepens ever so slightly, each movement deliberate, as if Mattheo is savoring every second. His hand gently rises to cup your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin with a touch so soft it sends shivers down your spine. Time seems to slow, the only thing grounding you being the warmth of his lips and the steady rhythm of his breaths mingling with yours.
When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against yours, his dark eyes searching your face for any sign of regret.
Instead, he’s met with your soft smile, and his lips twitch upward in response, a mixture of relief and joy playing across his expression.
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Mattheo whispers, his voice barely audible, as though the moment is too fragile to disturb.
His vulnerability is palpable, and it tugs at your heart in ways you can’t quite describe.
“So,” he murmured, a playful grin tugging at his lips, “does this mean you’ll let me distract you from studying more often?” You rolled your eyes, laughing sweetly. “You were already doing that, Matty.”
“True,” he admitted, smirking. “But now I get to do it properly.” Shaking your head, you smiled, your chest warm with a happiness you hadn’t expected to feel that day. “Salazar boy, you just now how to get to me, huh?.” “And yet, you like me anyway,” he said, his grin widening. “Unfortunately,” you replied with mock exasperation, but the smile on your face gave you away. “Lucky me,” he said, pulling you closer.
And for once, you couldn’t argue with him
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sapphicmsmarvel · 4 months ago
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azriel crack headcannons!
im alive!
note: use of “tits” instead of “breasts”, i hate that word yall. 
-You love being mushy with him. Complimenting his eyes, his hands, his voice. He gets all blushy and squeaky and it’s so cute. 
-He activated cuteness aggression which confused him at first but he secretly loves how obsessed you are with him. (he’s never had anyone be so obsessed with him) 
-You both give each other flowers. The first time you gave him his own bouquet he was giggling and kicking his feet in private. 
-You have trouble trying new food, so he will let you try a bit of his meal if he gets something new. That way you don't “waste” (even though he has enough money to buy velaris at this point) money. Even if he insists you don't need to worry about money. 
-You like asking him insane questions. 
“How do you feel about me wearing revealing clothes in public?” 
He shrugged. “I can fight and you look beautiful in anything.”
“If i got a new piercing-“
“My love, it’s your body. But if you pierce your nipples i’m going to have so much fun.”
-You got your nipples pierced. You couldn’t decide on what jewelry to get. So you bought two pairs. One, for the healing process that were barbells with blue gems. 
For after, barbells with an ‘A’ on both ends of the jewelry. That man audibly moaned when he saw that specific piece of jewelry. 
-He has loud sneezes. 
-He’s afraid of spiders. 
-You two 100% gossip. 
-You’ll read smutty novels to each other in funny voices. This is the only way Azriel discovered that he can make an incredible high pitched voice. 
-He gets the zoomies at random times. You know it’s brewing when the shadows start to practically vibrate in the air. 
-If you have your hair up, he or his shadows will play with your baby hairs that escape the hairstyle. 
-Speaking of the shadows, they’ll just sit on your waist like a belt and just be part of whatever outfit you have on. Or a necklace (not in a kinky way you dirty birds) 
((but like, that too))
-Speaking of things being taken as kinky. He stretches you out. You have a disability that worsens when you don't do your daily stretches (sciatica nerve damage gang rise up) so he forces you to do them. 
-As in pins you down and forces your body to stretch out the nerve. 
“It’s almost like you like to be in pain.” He admonishes as he pushed on your glute. 
“I’m just lazy.” You admit. 
He smacks your ass, causing you to yelp. “Well, I don't like seeing my love in pain, so stop being lazy.” 
-He may be a stoic warrior, but he’s also a guy. He loves titties. 
-He’ll burrow into them when he’s upset. 
-When your cycle happens, your tits get sore and swollen. So he’ll massage them, suck on them, anything. 
-You wear lip balm a lot. You just have a thing where a tube needs to be on you at all times. He personally prefers when you wear a balm that’s vanilla or like a baked good. The minty balms he really doesn’t like the taste of.  
-Usually, he is the exact opposite of lazy. However, you’ve turned him into a lazy sunday morning man. Or really, any day he wants to sleep in, he does now. You’re just so warm and sweet and sleepy he can’t resist it! 
-You sprawl out in bed. You starfish over the entire bed if he gets up for the bathroom or water in the middle of the night. To get you back to your side, all he has to do is poke your side and you curl in on yourself. 
He giggles (yes, giggles) every single time. 
-He already is a mischievous man, but with you the silliness hits an all time high. 
-Random ass spankings, he bean dips you, when he works out wearing a shirt, he’ll take the shirt off and throw it at you. So you have a musty sweaty ass shirt coming at you. 
-You always call his shadows “little stinkers” and he loves it. 
-They’ll move things to higher shelves to force you to ask Azriel for help getting them.  
The man loves leaning over you, your sweet ass pressed against him as he reaches. 
-Sometimes, you’ll just stare at him and wonder how this beautiful man is yours. 
But that’s okay, because he stares at you the same way. 
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clefairysoup · 7 months ago
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What yours and Ellie’s apartment would look like and why
All the photos are from Pinterest not mine! Reblogs and comments are very appreciated. I come bearing fluff. No apocalypse and I’m not sure if someone has done this idea, I haven’t seen anything but if someone has please tell me and I will delete this
The kitchen
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This is the most average broke uni student kitchen I have ever seen, and it fits you two. Ellie bought magnets that say 'eat pussy all day' and stuck them on the fridge, she told you it’s a reminder for her to come get her other meal. Anyways ellie gives of vibes that the most cooking she can do to her abilities is sticking a nasty ready meal in the microwave. More under cut
dining area
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your dining area is the most boring and small place in the apartment, you both simply have no care for it. Its just a table with 2 chairs that sits in the most random spot (your fucked when people come over). Usually you eat in the living room, only ever used when you feel bad for neglecting it, cluttering things on the table of random objects that you forget about or for stealing one of the chairs for something else. ultimately useless.
Bathroom
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Simple but still shows sign of use. some cute plants and odd posters and stickers ellie insists of having on the wall. Ellie definitely manages to get water all over the floor when showering, even with the curtain and your like ??? Just me thatlikes those toilet rug things but then its also gross at the same time, because thats where you shit why do you have a rug on it. Ellie has a mug that says, 'Keep calm im a lesbian' on it that holds your tooth brushes.
Bedroom
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Ellie’s lazy ass would NEVER make the bed, she just rolls right outta there. Got a whole shelf and drawer to your cds and vinyls, and the many different head phones and players. Shelves of all the comics ellie loves and your things. Cringy ass pillows all over the bed. Ellie also keeps her guitar on the wall.
Living room
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Once again ellie removed the ceiling lights from the living because it didn’t match the vibe. You now have over 12 lamps scattered around the room, that you find in little thrift stores. 100% have a mini fridge because you guys can’t be bothered to take 4 steps to the kitchen. 100 pillows and the throws that you try to fold up but somehow just end up pilled in a ball back to how they were. You guys own tons of board games that Ellie keeps from her childhood.
bonus
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Ellie owns a freaking plakat beta fish because I said so, and she’s also an autistic nerd (someone had to say it ). She loves her fish called Hester which is an astrology term for star, that she also is nerdy af about
I hope you enjoyed me talking about my wife of 3 years, Reblogs are very appreciated
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sturnsmia · 3 months ago
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chris always knows how to make crybaby!reader forgive him
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it’s a quiet, lazy afternoon. the soft hum of the tv plays in the background as sunlight filters through the windows, casting a warm glow across the living room. you’re curled up on the couch, wrapped in your favorite blanket while scrolling through your phone.
after a while, your mind drifts to the pastry you saved in the fridge—the last piece from your favorite bakery. the thought alone makes you smile, and you head to the kitchen, ready to indulge.
but when you open the fridge, the little white box isn’t there.
you frown, scanning every shelf. nothing. you even check the freezer and a few random cabinets, despite knowing that makes no sense. after a solid five minutes of searching, frustration bubbles up.
you stomp back into the living room. “chris?”
he glances up from his phone, eyebrows raised. “yeah?”
“where’s my pastry?” you ask, arms crossed.
there’s a beat of silence before he responds. “uh…” he shifts slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “i might’ve eaten it.”
your eyes widen. “you ate it?”
“i was hungry!” he admits, throwing his hands up. “and it was just sitting there, looking all lonely. i didn’t think you’d mind.”
you stare at him, your bottom lip already trembling. “you knew it was my favorite,” you whisper, voice wobbling.
chris immediately picks up on your pout and the tears forming in your eyes. he’s seen this play out countless times. still, he can’t help but chuckle softly. “oh no, princess. don’t cry,” he teases, reaching out for you. “you’re breaking my heart.”
“good,” you mumble, turning away from him dramatically. “i hope it hurts.”
he chuckles before pulling you onto his lap despite your protests. “i’m the worst, huh?”
“the absolute worst,” you mumble, crossing your arms tightly.
chris sighs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “okay, okay. i messed up. i’ll make it up to you.”
“how?” you ask, still sulking.
“let me take you to get another one.”
you hesitate for a moment, glancing up at him from under your teary lashes. “really?”
“really,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “now go grab your shoes, before i change my mind.”
the drive across town is quiet, the streets bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun. chris keeps one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh, the soft touch of his thumb drawing lazy circles over your skin.
you steal a glance at him, admiring the relaxed way he leans back in the seat, a small smirk playing on his lips as he hums along to the music. when he catches you staring, he raises an eyebrow.
“what?” he asks, amusement lacing his voice.
“nothing,” you mumble, turning your gaze to the window to hide your blush.
he chuckles softly, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. “you’re so pretty, you know that?”
your cheeks heat even more. “chris,” you mutter, voice shy.
“what?” he grins, glancing at you briefly before focusing back on the road. “just telling the truth, doll.”
you bite your lip to suppress a smile but fail miserably. “shut up.”
“never,” he teases with a grin.
the bakery is as charming as ever, with warm cozy hues and shelves lined with baked goods that look almost too perfect to eat. the scent of fresh bread and sugar fills the air, wrapping around you like a hug.
you hover near the display case, eyes scanning the pastries. the one you’re looking for is right there, sitting pretty in the middle row.
chris notices and nudges you gently. “see something you like?”
you nod, pointing at the pastry. “that one,” you whisper softly, voice barely above a whisper.
he leans in, pretending he didn’t hear you. “what was that, princess?”
“that one,” you repeat, giving him a small glare.
he smirks but doesn’t push further. “got it.” turning to the barista, he orders confidently. “two of those, please. and a coffee.”
you tug on his sleeve. “can i get a hot chocolate instead?”
he smiles at you before turning back to the cashier. “make that one coffee and one hot chocolate.”
the barista rings you up, and before you can even reach for your wallet, chris pulls out his card.
“chris,” you pout, tugging at his sleeve again. “i can pay for mine.”
“nope. making it up to you, remember?” he says with a wink.
you sigh but can’t help smiling as you clutch the little bag, the warmth of the hot chocolate seeping through the cup into your hands.
the ride back feels even softer, the sky now painted in hues of pink and orange. chris keeps his hand on your thigh again, his touch warm and steady. you take small sips of your hot chocolate, savoring the sweetness.
chris glances over, catching the way your eyes light up. “good?”
you hum around a bite, nodding enthusiastically. “perfect,” you mumble.
he chuckles, squeezing your thigh. “told you i’d make it up to you.”
you roll your eyes, but your smile gives you away. “you’re so annoying.”
just as you’re about to take another bite, you catch chris side-eyeing the pastry. before you can react, he leans over and takes a bite out of it, grinning like he’s just won a prize.
“chris!” you yelp, pulling the pastry away from him and swatting his arm. “you just bought me this!”
“couldn’t resist.” he laughs as he wipes the small crumbs off the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand.
“you’re the worst!” you pout, holding the pastry protectively.
“i know,” he says, still grinning. “but you love me anyway.”
you huff, but the warmth in his voice makes it impossible to stay mad. “you’re just lucky you’re cute chris.”
he laughs before stopping at the red light, turning towards you. you give him a hard glare before he peppers your cheek with kisses and you can’t help but giggle. because no matter what chris does, you know there’s no one else you’d rather spend your days with.
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𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: thank u sm to @abbystromboli for this request!! i hope this lived up to your expectations :))
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⋆˚࿔ ౨ৎ ˚. ᵎᵎ @sirenedeslily @freshloveee @ifwdominicfike @matt5sturnioloo @pleasebendmeoverxxx @heartsforsturniolo567 @anyaa2s
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corameiwrites · 7 days ago
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𖦹 searching for love pt. 2𖦹
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pair: jason todd x gn!reader
plot: going back to work, you wonder if you'll see your handsome stranger again...
wc: 1.6k
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For once, being forced to wake up and leave your warm cocoon of blankets and stuffed animals at nine in the morning didn’t seem so terrible. Your cat, however, thought differently. To her, it was routine to be awoken by your ruffling of the sheets and complaining about the day to come. 
There was none of that this morning, and she seemed to take notice. Rather than stay in bed scrolling until the absolute last minute, you sprang up and went to your bathroom. Meowing in some form of complaint and stretching, she jumped down soundlessly to join you. She watched as you did your normal routine from the toilet seat as she did every morning. Then it was off to the closet. Padding softly on the wooden floors, she went to her bed she rarely used situated next to a floor length mirror and got comfortable. With lazy eyes, she observed you sorting through clothes and digging in laundry baskets. 
Unknowingly, she had fallen asleep but was awoken by a scratch on her head. Looking up, she saw you fully dressed, smiling down on her. Meowing in content, she stretched and rested a paw on your outstretched arm. 
“Do you want breakfast, girl?” 
Her ears perked up at that, and in an instant she was up and across the room, meowing boisterously at you to follow. 
“Of course you do.” You followed your noisy cat into the kitchen, almost tripping over her when she circled between your legs. “Hey, watch it.” 
After pouring some kibble into her tray and getting no more than a mere meow in thanks, you double checked you had everything in your bag before sitting down on the couch to put on your shoes. 
“Do you think he’ll be there today?” 
Her tail swung slowly from side to side as she ate her food. 
“I hope he will.” You stood, running to the mirror for one last look at yourself before grabbing your keys and walking to the front door. Your cat followed, meowing insistently again. Leaning down, you scoop her into your arms and snuggle her. You walk to your room, cat still in your arms. 
“I'm sorry girl, but we can’t have a repeat of last time.” Her head lifts to look at you, and before she knows it you’ve thrown her on the bed and run out of the room all the way to the front door. She, again, meows loudly before rushing to the door only to catch it closing. 
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩  ♡  ✩˚。⋆𖦹。°⋆✮
For some unknown reason, everybody and their mother wanted to come to the cozy bookstore on a late Tuesday afternoon. This had kept you and your other coworker on your feet all day, alternating between stocking, running the register, and walking around asking kids to please not climb on bookshelves. Had it not been for the hope of seeing your “mystery hunk” (as your coworker lovingly named him), you probably would have looked dead on your feet. 
Your coworker was teasing you nonstop about volunteering to actually walk around the store and shelve in hopes of seeing him. You took it in stride though, because at least you were self aware of how insane and a little delusional you were being. 
With every ring of the front door, your head would instantly turn, checking to see if it was him. When shelving, you lingered around the Austen area in case he wanted to pick up another book. Constantly looking through the crowd, you hoped to find a wisp of white hair somewhere. The only white hair you saw was from one of your regulars, Agnes, an old lady who fit every stereotype of a fairytale grandma. You were chatting with her before your coworker asked you to take over the register. 
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩  ♡  ✩˚。⋆𖦹。°⋆✮
Jason had been sitting in the coffee shop across the street from the bookstore for more than twenty minutes, scared shitless for absolutely no reason. Maybe it was the fact that he still felt awful about keeping you thirty minutes past closing—unknowingly, but it didn’t take away the shame. You had been so nice about it too, telling him not to worry. But how could he not? It was the only thing on his mind the last couple hours. The least he could have done was make sure you got home safe, so he followed protected your walk home. 
Tim had given him so much shit about abandoning him for 40 minutes and purposefully leading Condiment King to him that Jason had ended up agreeing to take care of the dry cleaning and “trauma compensation” (Tim’s words, not his). Whatever that meant. 
That's what led him to this coffee shop after dropping off the ruined suit, which was conveniently across the street from your work, the little time-warp of a bookstore. He was watching people file in and out periodically through the window, but didn’t see you at the register. Not that he was looking for you specifically. He just wanted to thank you and apologize once more, that's all. 
It looked rather busy, and he didn’t feel like walking in to explain the whole lost wallet and books on hold thing to the worker. After some more internal shaming and nonsensical overthinking, Jason decided he wouldn’t go back to that bookstore today, and probably ever again despite his gut telling him otherwise. He couldn’t just stroll in with a clean conscience knowing he kept you so late past closing. It was a crime comparable to his nighttime-persona. 
Groaning as he got up from his table, he threw his empty cup away. He had taken a pretty hard fall this morning grappling back to his safehouse and bruised half his right side. He was just glad Tim wasn’t there to see it. Walking to his bike parked outside, he took one last look at the bookstore. The sight of you at the register made him do a double take. 
Stalling next to his motorcycle, his hand began to fidget with the ignition key in his pocket. You were checking out a mother and a little kid, who was practically bouncing on his feet. You were smiling and talking to the boy, and he must have said something cute or blunt in the way only little kids are, because suddenly you were laughing. 
The sight unconsciously brought a smile to his lips.
Bagging their books, you handed something to the kid. They walked out and you continued onto the next customer, and Jason watched as the kid plastered a shiny gold star sticker onto his chest just outside the store. 
 Sighing, he abandoned his bike and made his way across the street. 
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩  ♡  ✩˚。⋆𖦹。°⋆✮
The bell to the front door chimed, and mostly on professional training and only a little bit delusion, you looked up to greet the person. 
“Welcome—oh!” Realizing it was your mysterious hunk, you smiled a little brighter. He smiled back, a small one, but still there. Slowly, he approached the front counter, lingering a little awkwardly as you hurried to bag someone's books. After telling them to come again, he approached the register. 
“Hi.” he said, a little breathlessly.
“Hey.” Your smile widened at his stiff posture and shy demeanor. “Any luck finding your wallet?”
“Oh,” his eyebrows raised, and it was as if you speaking had broken him out of a daze. You found this far too endearing. “Yeah, I uh, actually left it at home—but I brought it today, so…”
“Yeah, I’ve definitely done that before.” You say, letting out an airy chuckle. Neither of you say anymore for a moment, both looking at the other. He’s dressed more casually today, his heavy cargo pants traded out for an old pair of baggy jeans. He’s wearing a dark green sweater under another leather jacket; black this time. Something about it makes his eyes pop just a little brighter you think. His eyes meet yours, and he looks away briefly, chewing his lip slightly. 
“You still have those books behind the counter?” he asks, breaking the silence.
“Um–yeah, sorry.” Quickly turning, you bend down, mentally slapping yourself for checking him out so obviously. The books are in the same place you stored them last night. Picking them up, you rush to stand back up. “Ow!” 
“Oh shit, are you okay?” He sounds very concerned. 
“Yep, just a little scratch.” There's no way you will ever recover from hitting your head on the counter in front of a hot customer. 
“You sure?” 
“Yes, I am totally fine. Um…” Trailing off and trying desperately to escape his piercing gaze, you ask if he wants a bag. 
“Sure, yeah.”
Trying your hardest to not shrivel up and die of embarrassment, you carefully put his books into a paper bag, watching as he whips out a leather wallet and handing you a twenty dollar bill. Noting his clear affinity to leather, you get his change before turning back to him, $5.67 in your hand. His own brushes against yours slightly as he takes the change, and you're a little ashamed at how much that small contact made your heart soar. 
Instantly, he puts the extra money into a small tip jar. You smile, and as you're about to thank him, Old Agnes puts her books down on the counter. Noticing, he grabs his bag and steps back, looking at you. 
“Thanks for holding these back there, and sorry for keeping you up late last night.” You decide to ignore the look Agnes gives you. 
“It's alright. Come back soon?” 
He hesitates, glancing around the store and back at you. He smiles, nodding. “I’m planning on it.” 
You watch as he leaves, walking recklessly across the street (a car honked at him) to a red motorcycle. You gape a little, eyeing him as he puts on a helmet and leaves. You focus back on checking out Old Agnes’ books. 
“...so what were you two up to last night?"
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maneskinwh0re · 8 months ago
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sevika headcannons (fem!reader)
part 2
!! sfw + nsfw !!
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♡ she is definitely dominant most often, but can still so easily act like your little puppy, following you around the house or when you go on errands.
♡ acts of service is her #1 love language—you’ll contribute to that by making sure she has dinner to come home to or you'll patch up her wounds, she secretly loves it when you take care of her. on her more giving side with acts of service, she’ll sometimes clean your shared apartment to surprise you or even fix up your car whenever she finds the time.
♡ physical touch is still just as important to her—when in public (at the last drop or other restaurants/bars), she’ll always have an arm around your waist or a hand on your thigh, just as a prideful reminder to others that only she has access to you.
♡ if there’s even the smallest height difference (which is highly likely considering sevika is like 6' ft tall), she’ll tease you by placing the things you use on the daily in higher cabinets/shelves—just so you have to ask her to get them for you.
♡ she definitely drives a motorcycle, there’s no arguing about it, but she does let you put cute stickers on her dark black helmet—there isn't a single scratch on her bike.
♡ whenever you ride behind her on the back of her bike, she’ll rev and speed hella fast to scare you, causing you to tightly wrap your arms around her waist. she’ll also drive with one hand so her other can rest on your thigh, rubbing small lazy circles on your knee with her thumb.
♡ "it's okay, love. i got ya."
♡ she’ll always sit in the bathroom with you to keep you company while you do your nightly routine (or shower if she's not in there with you already).
♡ she keeps a your favorite underwear in her side of the dresser.
♡ her v-line is so sensitive, just you trailing your fingertips down it can cause her to let a whimper slip.
♡ if you start your evening wearing heels as part of your outfit, she makes you keep them on the entire night (if you wear heels as a fem!). oh my lorddd she just loves how your ankles lock around her broad back, your hoarse voice pleading her as she fucks you mercilessly with her long fingers.
♡ "keep begging, pretty girl. come on~ no one else will ever fuck you like i do. say my name, again f' me~"
♡ she steadies you with a tight hold on your hip, not giving you much room to move as she builds up your orgasm. after some time, when she feels you've earned it, she'll move her mechanical hand under your back to help you arch up when she finally lets you cum.
♡ "fuck, you feel so good. you think you deserve it? you do, baby~ go on, be a good girl and cum~ that's it~"
—part 3 is up !! i have some sev smut coming out soon so stay tuned gays ;)
- bee xx
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victorluvsalice · 2 years ago
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-->And, as Victor replanted his oversized crops (which I’m not actually intending to make oversized this time! Smaller ones make a bit more sense to sell in the store), Smiler scheduled a weenie roast for the next day! They hadn’t thrown a party in a while, and I figured that would be appropriate for it being summer, especially with SimCity Founding coming up. They invited their friends Heath, Aleah (the Hermit from Granite Falls), Cecilia, Nalani, and Grace, and had the whole thing start at 3 PM, as that felt like a decent start time for me for a cookout. And I just crossed my fingers and hoped that it wouldn’t be as chaotic and glitchy as some of my OTHER weenie roasts had been. . .
-->And with that, all that remained was for Victor to finish up his planting and for Smiler and Alice to have a little bonding time (including synchronized showering in the rain -- Erratic Sims *sigh*) before it was back off to the store! Smiler of course made another flower arrangement while Alice started making more cakes and pies for the bakery and Victor began doing bulk bread processing -- and then I discovered two things:
A) The new update, which added slots to the tops of a bunch of the toilets and sinks? It has a dark side, and that dark side is that Sims WILL put random shit on those slots. As seen with Victor putting his bread on top of the toilet in the bathroom stall. *facepalm* I moved it out of the bathroom with haste and quickly put -- I don’t recall what it’s called, I think it’s related to the menstrual cycle stuff in Wonderful Whims, which I don’t use, but it’s like a little spray bottle that you MIGHT find in a bathroom like this, and it took up one of the slots on top of each toilet, making them less of a good place to drop baked goods.
B) Smiler actually didn’t have that much to do, as the flower arrangement shelves were full, and there was no more room for any of the baked goods from the cupcake machine in the bakery section. Whoops. ^^; Fortunately, there was another protest going on nearby in the little square, and when Smiler batted over to say hello, who should they encounter but Jameson, the guy they met over in Henford-On-Bagley on fair day! :D Smiler promptly renewed the acquaintance, and they had a nice chat together. Them being the most social of all my Sims DOES make keeping them occupied easier. XD
-->And while THAT was going on, I decided it was about time I had Victor test out his Copypasto skills! Now, as I reported back in the Finchwick Fair update, there was no way for me to have him Copypasto any of the cans and boxes from the Simsonian Canning Factory mod (you know, like the canned peas and such). . .but he COULD Copypasto the various sauces and preserves, since those are the same as the ones you get from Cottage Living itself! And so Victor set about copying as many jars of jam and sauce as he could. . .
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caitified · 9 days ago
Note
bella requestttt!!!
• a fan asks caitlin to hold their baby for a picture, and bella sees, gets jealous obviously and refuses to talk to caitlin because mommy likes the little baby more/ gave the baby more attention then her.
• bella and caitlin go shopping and somehow bella wonders off and terrified caitlin. caitlin finds her like five minutes later but that was the scariest five minutes of her life.
• bella cons caitlin into a late night ice cream trip, and tried to convince caitlin by saying “it’s okay just don’t tell mommy”
• bella go to practice with caitlin, and makes lots of new friends with caitlin’s teammates
• caitlin asks bella why she’s so upset/crying, she says she misses auntie kate, auntie jada, and auntie gabbie (core four supremacy fr) because she saw a picture of them together and it made her want to see them, maybe they have a four way call or caitlin takes her to see them or soemthing idk
• bella gets sick at one of caitlin’s games, and caitlin feels soooo awful that she couldn’t help her bella bear right then, so she buys her lots of toys and babies her when she gets home
BELLA BLURBS PART ONE
CAITLIN CLARK X FAMILY READER
notes: i did these as blurbs bc i was feeling lazy, but these are so so cute pls keep them coming
warnings: none!
jealous bella
caitlin had held a lot of babies in her life—nieces, nephews, children of old teammates—but never had she considered the consequences of holding a fan’s baby in front of her own.
it happened at an event after one of her games, where fans had lined up for pictures and autographs. caitlin was in a great mood, happily chatting when a woman stepped forward with an adorable baby in her arms.
“can you hold her for a picture?” the woman asked excitedly.
caitlin, always happy to please, grinned and carefully took the baby in her arms. “of course!” she cooed, adjusting the little girl so she faced the camera. “oh my god, you’re so cute!”
the baby giggled, grabbing onto caitlin’s jersey as the fan snapped pictures. everyone around them cooed, adoring the sweet moment.
but not everyone was happy.
sitting in her stroller a few feet away, your baby, bella, was watching with the deepest frown, tiny arms crossed over her chest. her normally bright eyes had darkened in offense, and her lower lip was pushed out in a pout so dramatic that it was almost comical.
except to her, it wasn’t funny at all.
when you returned with snacks, you immediately spotted your daughter’s intense little glare. “bella?” you crouched down, brushing her curls from her face. “what’s wrong, baby?”
she let out a sharp, huffy breath and turned her head away from you.
your eyebrows shot up in amusement. oh, she’s mad mad.
glancing up, you saw caitlin handing the baby back to her mother, still oblivious. when she turned and finally met bella’s stormy little gaze, her expression dropped.
“bella?” she called, stepping forward.
bella ignored her.
caitlin’s eyes widened in panic. she knelt in front of her, reaching out. “baby, what’s wrong?”
bella sniffled, finally speaking in a tiny, betrayed voice. “mommy like the baby more.”
you bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing, but caitlin’s face was a picture of pure horror.
“what?!” she exclaimed. “no! baby, I don’t like the baby more! i was just holding them for a picture!”
bella still wouldn’t look at her.
caitlin turned to you in desperation. “babe, help me!”
you smirked. “oh, no. you got yourself into this mess. good luck.”
lost bella
caitlin had one job.
watch bella while you grabbed something from another aisle. simple.
except it wasn’t, because when she turned back from looking at the shelves—bella was gone.
her heart stopped.
“bella?” she called, spinning around so fast she almost lost her balance. when she didn’t hear a response, panic set in fast.
“bella!”
people around her turned to look, sensing her urgency. her stomach dropped.
when you returned, your heart immediately sped up at the wild look in her eyes.
“where’s bella?” you asked sharply.
caitlin ran a hand through her hair, looking wrecked. “i don’t—i turned for one second—”
you didn’t wait for her to finish, already moving.
the next five minutes were the longest of caitlin’s life. she tore through the aisles, calling bella’s name, adrenaline pounding through her veins.
then, finally—
she spotted a tiny figure near a display of stuffed animals.
her size.
caitlin sprinted, her chest tightening as she reached bella, who was standing completely unbothered, holding a teddy bear half her size.
she scooped her up instantly, squeezing her tight. “bella, baby, you can’t wander off like that! we were so scared!”
bella blinked up at her. “i lookin’.” she held up the bear. “him my size.”
caitlin let out a breathy, shaky laugh, kissing the top of her head. “yeah, baby. we’re buying him.”
you finally caught up, sighing in relief before frowning. “so she gets a toy for running off?”
caitlin didn’t even hesitate. “yes.”
late-night ice cream heist
caitlin was half-asleep when she felt a tiny hand patting her arm.
“mama.”
groaning, she cracked her eyes open. “what, baby?”
bella, looking serious as ever, whispered, “ice cream.”
caitlin squinted at the clock. “baby, it’s bedtime—”
bella leaned in further, her little voice conspiratorial. “it’s okay. just don’t tell mommy.”
you, who had woken up at the whispering, snorted. “excuse me?”
bella froze.
caitlin, still half-asleep, smirked. “well, now we have to take her.”
missing the aunties
when caitlin walked into the living room, she found bella curled up, looking at your phone, tiny sniffles filling the space.
her heart immediately clenched.
“baby, what’s wrong?”
bella turned, eyes already watery. “miss auntie kate. auntie jada. auntie gabbie.”
caitlin melted. she crouched down beside her, rubbing her back. “aw, baby.” she glanced at the phone screen. “did you see a picture of them?”
bella nodded, her lower lip wobbling.
caitlin turned to you, who had just walked in, and sighed. “okay, i’m calling them.”
a few minutes later, a very enthusiastic four-way facetime was happening, with the three women collectively gasping the second they saw bella’s pouty face.
“BELLA!”
she sniffled. “miss you.”
they melted.
“we miss you too, baby!”
soon, she was all giggles again, chatting happily while you and caitlin exchanged looks.
crisis averted.
sick at the game
caitlin had been so locked in on the game that she didn’t notice at first. but when she glanced at the stands and saw you rocking a clearly sick, sleepy bella, her heart dropped.
after the game, she sprinted over.
“what happened?” she cupped bella’s warm cheeks. “baby, you okay?”
“fever,” you murmured. “she wanted to see you play so bad.”
caitlin melted, kissing her forehead. “oh, my poor baby.”
when you got home, she went full mom mode.
she wrapped bella up in blankets, hand-fed her soup, and caved way too easily when bella whimpered, “mama, hold me.”
and, of course, she ordered an unnecessary amount of toys, because how else was she supposed to make her baby feel better?
you just shook your head fondly. “you’re such a sucker.”
caitlin kissed bella’s forehead. “yeah. and?”
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sttm99 · 9 months ago
Text
TW...? Mentions of alcohol, implications of sex.
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Part 2
"Come on, just go." Kaminari hisses under his breath, impatience and anxiety curling around in his stomach as he stands just outside the convenience store.
It's late at night, phones showing a bright 9:37 on the screen, as Bakugo, Sero, Kirishima, and Kaminari stand outside the store. It's the last day of school before the summer and they're all finally of the legal drinking age.
So what better way to celebrate the end of school than with alcohol?
"Why do I have to go in first?" Sero's frowning, harshly slapping at Kaminari's hand as he tries to push him forward.
"You're the tallest?"
"Kirishima's the buffest-"
"Shut the fuck up, idiots." Bakugo growls out, pushing past them and barging into the store. His aggressiveness has the door squeaking loudly before slamming back down into frame.
You look up from where you're seated at the register, a lazy glare on your face. "You're responsible for anything you break. Even doors," you drawl out with a frown as you take in the sulking teenager.
He glares at you, "Where's the drinks?"
"Rude." You scoff, dropping the magazine you were looking at and pointing to the far right. "Sodas and juices are over there." You murmur.
But that only seems to anger him further, "Not sodas. Drinks. Alcohol?"
The door opens again, and three more boys walk in. These ones are more shy and nowhere near as rude as the ash-blonde.
You sit up and raise a brow at them. "We don't sell alcohol to minors."
"Minors?" Sero scoffs indignantly.
"Hey- you look younger than us!" Kaminari pouts.
You roll your eyes. "I'm 18, okay? Now, if you guys want some drinks, I'm gonna need some ID." You say with a smirk, eyes focused on the brooding blonde that had barged in first.
He glares at you angrily as he stalks forward, slamming his student ID card down on the counter. You look down at it, showing little interest at first, until you catch sight of the letters on the top right of it.
"No way," you pick up the card, "You guys go to UA?" You ask, looking up at them. "Hero Course too?"
The shock and admiration in your gaze has their chests swelling with pride, with Bakugo leaning his elbows on the counter and smirking down at you. "Isn't it obvious?"
You raise a brow up at him and grin, dipping your hand into your back pocket to bring out your phone. "Oh yeah. You're the one they chained up some years ago, right?"
He scowls. "You mean the one who won."
You scoff, hopping off the stool and rounding the counter. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Come on, I'll show you the drinks."
They grin, quickly following after you.
"This is your first time buying alcohol, right?" Ypu say as you stride into an aisle, dark bottles and cans lining the shelves.
"Is it obvious?" Kirishima asks shyly.
You shrug as you begin looking over bottle labels. "Yep. I'm sure you also don't know much alcohol, right? What drinks you want?"
Bakugo glares. "We're not fucking idiots."
"I didn't say you were," you roll your eyes at him. "But anyways. What's your budget, hm? Do you want something strong or something that tastes good?"
The boys crowd in on you, looking around the aisle as well. "Um...." Sero huns as he looks around. "Somethung that's strong. The strongest you got."
You look back at him. "You ever heard of overdosing? Kidney failure? Alcohol poisoni-"
"Where are you going with this?" Bakugo snaps at you.
"I'm starting to see why you were muzzled." You murmur as you pull out a bottle of Smirnoff from one of the shelves and hand it over to Sero. "This is a good option. It's strong and doesn't taste that bad compared to some others." You shrug.
"We'll take it!" Sero exclaims as he grabs hold of the bottle.
"Cool," you hum and look at him. "How many? Just the one?"
"Three." Kaminari says.
You turn to grab two more bottles from the shelves. "You know you shouldn't consume the three in one night," you say. "It's strong, and you guys haven't built any tolerance to alcohol so..." You hand the two bottles of Smirnoff to Kaminari and Kirishima, purposefully avoiding Bakugo, "Just be careful, is what I'm saying."
They hum, not very convincingly, but you can't force them to take your advice.
"Your total is 11,350 yen," you hum as you sit behind the cash register the last item they'd picked. You'd managed to convince them to get some sodas to chase the alcohol, and then they'd wanted to pick up a few snacks as well.
The boys were talkative, and the store was empty. They'd talked about how they were having a small end-of-school party in their dorm, and you smiled and laughed along with them, all while getting them to increase the number of items in their cart.
After all... your dad owned the convenience store, and you were looking at some new bikinis you wanted to get for the summer.
A little persuasion wouldn't hurt anyone.
They pooled together cash to pay and excitedly picked up the bags of what they'd just bought.
"It was nice meeting you, YN." Kirishima says as he grabs the last bag, flashing you a wide smile.
Kaminari joins in, "Yeah. We should hang out sometime." He offers.
You shrug with a small smile, "No problem. I'm mostly here... I'll be here a lot during the summer, so you can always drop by."
They begin leaving, and once the door closes, you lean on the register, picking up the magazine again.
You almost groan at the squeak of the door, already too tired to deal with another customer. You turn to glance at who it is, shocked to see Bakugo again.
"What are you doing back here?" You roll your eyes at his permanent scowl.
He grunts at you, continuing to walk to the counter wordlessly, hands stuffed in his pocket.
"Oi," you raise a brow, annoyed at how he was ignoring you. "You really need to work on manners."
He huffs as he stands right before you, opposite the register. He's quiet for a second before he glances to your left momentarily... then again, and a third time.
"What is it, mute?" You huff, arms folded as you follow his vision. "Oh-"
You chuckle, amused. "Big night ahead?"
"Just- shut up and pass the shit." He grunts in annoyance and embarrassment.
You laugh, "Calm down, okay? It's just some condoms." You roll your eyes and grab a few different ones, laying them out to him. "First time buying?" You raise a brow.
That's not entirely what you mean, though. And he picks up on it.
'Virgin?'
He sighs, "Obvious?"
You shrug a bit. "Kind of, yeah." You look down at the selection. "You know your size?" You ask, and he while pointing to the one on the left.
You hum, and scan it. He keeps looking at you as you bring a disposable bag to pack it in.
He struggles to muster up the courage, "Um..."
You look up at him as he stutters, and it has him struggling even harder. It's weird, and it pisses him off, how you're looking up at him when he's buying condoms.
"Any tips?" He mumbles softly, already mortified and wishing he could take it back. You're a stranger, and you've already shown how much you enjoyed making fun of him- why would he think to ask you such?
But you just shrug, "Do what feels right. Don't overthink." You say and hand him the bag. "The aim is for you both to feel good."
He hums and nods. "Thanks..."
There's silence for a few moments as he pays and takes the bag, and just as he's turning to leave, he stops again. Bakugo pulls out his phone swiftly and throws it onto the counter even quicker.
"Can I..." he trails off.
You stare at the phone for a while, then back at him. You smirk cheekily. "Sure." You chuckle as you put your number in his phone.
He takes it, looks at it for a second, before stuffing it back in his pocket. "You're here for the summer?" He asks.
You said so already..., and he knows.
"Yeah," you reply, leaning on your elbows. "Drop by anytime."
He hums and looks at you before turning and walking out of the store.
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scoupsakakitty · 2 months ago
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hello!! this is my first request lol, can we have fluff of svt 14th member when she gets her period?? something along those lines however you want to interpret it!!
Wingmen and Wings | idol!Seventeen x 14thMember!Reader | fluff, slight angst
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It was just another exhausting practice day for Seventeen. The heavy beat of the music echoed through the walls of the practice room as the members moved in sync, their bodies drenched in sweat.
In the middle of the formation, Y/N, the 14th and only female member, struggled to keep up.
Her legs felt heavy, her stomach churned, and a dull ache throbbed in her lower back. She tried to push through it, focusing on the rhythm, but each step felt like her body was working against her.
“Y/N, what’s wrong with you today?” Seungkwan teased from across the room.
“Yeah, did you forget how to dance?” Vernon added, smirking.
“Maybe she’s just lazy,” Hoshi joked, always ready to poke fun.
Y/N froze mid-step, glaring at them.
“Maybe you guys should just shut up for once!” she snapped, her voice sharper than she intended.
The room went silent.
“Whoa,” Jeonghan muttered under his breath. “What’s with the attitude?”
Y/N clenched her fists, heat rising to her face not just from embarrassment, but also frustration. She grabbed her water bottle and stomped to the corner of the room, leaving the boys stunned.
———————————————————————————-
During the break, Y/N sat with her back against the wall, scrolling through her phone and trying to ignore the ache in her stomach.
She didn’t notice when Joshua walked up to her, holding his jacket in his hands.
“Here,” he said softly, draping it around her waist.
Y/N looked up, confused.
“What are you doing?”
Joshua leaned in closer, lowering his voice.
“I think you started your period,” he whispered carefully, avoiding eye contact. “You should go check. Like—now.”
Her eyes widened in horror.
“What? No—are you serious?”
Joshua nodded, his voice kind but urgent.
“Just go. I’ll cover for you if anyone asks.”
Heart pounding, Y/N tied his jacket tighter around her waist and hurried out of the room as casually as she could.
———————————————————————————-
In the bathroom, Y/N confirmed her worst fear.
She had, in fact, started her period—and had nothing with her. No pads, no tampons, and no spare clothes.
Her stomach sank as panic bubbled up.
Her hands trembled as she grabbed her phone, dialing Joshua’s number.
“Josh?”
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
Her voice came out in a whisper.
“I need help,” she said, mortified. “I don’t have any pads or tampons. Or clean clothes. I need you to—” She paused, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I need you to get me some stuff.”
Joshua hesitated only for a second.
“Okay. What kind?”
“The ones with wings,” she said quickly, then groaned. “You know—pads. With wings.”
“Wings?” Joshua repeated, sounding confused. “Like… flying wings?”
“No! Just—ugh, never mind! Please hurry!”
“Got it,” he said. “I’ll figure it out.”
———————————————————————————-
Joshua rushed out of the practice room, but Mingyu and DK caught him at the door.
“Where are you going?” DK asked suspiciously.
“And why do you look like you just saw a ghost?” Mingyu added.
Joshua hesitated.
“Y/N needs something,” he said. “It’s… personal.”
DK and Mingyu exchanged concerned looks.
“What is it?” Mingyu pressed.
Joshua sighed.
“She started her period,” he said quietly. “And she doesn’t have anything—no pads, no clothes, nothing.”
“Oh.” DK blinked. “Ohhh.”
“We’re helping,” Mingyu said immediately. “Come on.”
———————————————————————————-
Joshua quickly met up with Mingyu and DK to head out and buy what Y/N needed.
“Alright, we need to grab pads, clothes, snacks… anything we can think of to help her,” Joshua instructed, his mind already racing.
“Pads. Got it,” Mingyu said, his eyes scanning the shelves. “Do we need a specific kind? Like, wings or no wings?”
Joshua hesitated for a moment. “Let’s just get the ones with wings. She’ll be more comfortable.”
DK nodded. “Got it. We’ll grab those. Maybe we should also buy the overnight ones or the ultra thin ones or what about the maxi pads? Fuck it let’s buy them all. What about clothes?” DK added, tossing all the pads into the shopping cart.
Joshua glanced at the tampons on the shelf. “What about tampons? What size should we buy?” The tree boys stared at the tampons, unsure what to do. “What do you mean by size? You mean the size of her.. you know?” DK asked, his face flushing slightly. “No are you dumb?” Mingyu laughed, shaking his head. “It’s for her period flow. Light, regular, or super. You know, the amount of flow she has.” Joshua nodded, relieved. “Yeah it’s all about the flow. We’ll go with regular for now.”
Mingyu grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. “These look like something she’d wear. Big and comfy.”
Joshua nodded. “Good choice. She’ll definitely appreciate this.”
Mingyu paused for a moment, then added, “Maybe we should add these too. Not to be weird, but I think she might need these as well.” He grabbed a pack of underwear and tossed it into the cart.
Joshua blinked in surprise. “Oh, uh, yeah, you’re probably right. She’ll need those.”
DK, who had been holding a pack of pads, looked at Mingyu, then back at Joshua, his face flushed. “Yeah, it’s for… the whole situation.”
————————————————————————————-
Back at the dorm, Jeonghan, Seungkwan, and Dino had begun preparing a cozy space for Y/N, knowing she would need a relaxing environment.
“We should set up a space for her to just relax,” Jeonghan said, laying out blankets and soft pillows across the couch.
“Agreed,” Seungkwan added, fluffing the pillows. “She’s going to need something comfy after all this. Maybe we should dim the lights and add some soft music?”
“Definitely,” Dino agreed. “The more peaceful, the better.”
As the group worked, Hoshi, Wonwoo, Woozi, and Vernon were in the kitchen, preparing a warm meal.
“Do you think she’ll want soup?” Hoshi asked, stirring a pot.
“She’s definitely going to need something light,” Woozi replied. “Something comforting.”
Vernon grabbed some chocolate. “And don’t forget dessert. She’s going to need chocolate, too.” Wonwoo nodded. „She loves chocolate ice cream lately.”
“Right!” Hoshi grinned. “Comfort food all the way.”
————————————————————————————-
Meanwhile, S.Coups, Jun, and The8 were on their own mission, heading to the pharmacy to buy painkillers and whatever else they could find to ease Y/N’s discomfort.
S.Coups grabbed a bottle of painkillers. “We’ve got to make sure she’s okay, so let’s grab some extra just in case.”
“I’ll grab some tea,” Jun suggested, reaching for a box of chamomile. “It’s relaxing. She’ll need it.”
The8, however, suddenly grabbed a bottle of iron supplements, holding them up to S.Coups and Jun. “We need this too,” he said earnestly.
S.Coups blinked in surprise. “Iron? Why?”
The8 looked serious. “I read somewhere that women lose a lot of iron during their period. It can help with fatigue, so we need to get it.”
Jun looked amused. “You’ve been doing your research, huh?”
The8 shrugged. “I want to make sure we cover all bases.”
S.Coups nodded approvingly. “Alright, let’s get it.”
———————————————————————————-
Joshua returned to the bathroom, knocking softly.
“Y/N? It’s me.”
She cracked the door open just enough to peek out.
“You got it?”
“Everything,” Joshua said, holding up multiple bags. “Clothes, pads—wings included—and snacks. Oh, and S.Coups brought painkillers.”
Y/N grabbed the bags, her cheeks red.
“You’re a lifesaver.”
Joshua grinned. “Don’t mention it. Just change and come out when you’re ready.”
———————————————————————————-
By the time they all made it back to the dorm, Y/N froze in shock.
The living room had been completely transformed.
Blankets and pillows covered the couch, the lights were dimmed, and a heating pad was already plugged in and waiting for her. A full meal was spread out on the table, along with chocolates, herbal tea, and drinks.
“What… is this?” Y/N asked, her voice breaking.
“We figured you’d need this,” Jeonghan said, smiling softly. “So—surprise?”
Her lip trembled as tears filled her eyes.
“You guys didn’t have to do all this,” she whispered.
“Of course we did,” Mingyu said. “You’re our family.”
Before they knew it, she pulled them all into a giant group hug, burying her face in Seungkwan’s shoulder as the others squeezed in around her.
———————————————————————————-
Later that night, they all piled onto the couch to watch a movie.
Y/N sat in the middle, wrapped in a blanket with the heating pad pressed against her stomach.
Halfway through the movie, she leaned against Joshua’s shoulder, her eyelids drooping.
“You’re the best,” she mumbled sleepily.
Joshua smiled, brushing her hair back gently. “I know.”
The rest of the boys exchanged proud smiles, looking down at Y/N as she fell asleep surrounded by her second family.
“Mission accomplished,” Woozi whispered.
And as they all settled in for the night, they knew they wouldn’t have it any other way.
———————————————————————————-
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