#if you’re still reading these ily have a cookie x

[edenxrosey]

The Celestial Ball, in which awkward high school dances mess with even the coolest of curse-breakers

[notiddygothgf]

13. Yours

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ Such a good girl. Always following orders. ❞

★ c.w.: smut. (NOT BETA'd. olivia will be my beta-er.) (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: child now when i tell you exams are kicking my ass rn. when will it end omg. ANYWAY! i baked cookies but that didnt cheer me up so i figured id post a chappie early to hear from my pookies during such a difficult time. ily all. ur comments rlly do make my whole week. ANYWAY THIS CHAPTER IS SOOOOO TASTY AND DELICIOUS AND NASTY. im lowkey ashamed of myself. no one look at me. i hope my bf never reads this and realizes how much of a freak i am. id have to kms. 

★ w.c: .5.8k

shameless ; chapter index

AFTER DINNER – during which you got to know Aki’s roommates a little better (especially the leg humper) – the four of you sat around the coffee table in the living room. The TV was on low, playing something that Aki had been watching before he dozed off unceremoniously on the floor. He was laying on his side, back turned to you and his roommates, curled up in a little ball with his head in your lap.

Denji, Power and you were knee-deep in an intense game of Uno. You didn’t even remember packing the deck of cards, but if you had to guess, you most likely had stuck it in your purse to keep you entertained on the train. 

It had taken you twenty minutes to explain the rules to them, which was right about when Aki decided to lay down for a nap. It took them another two rounds of the game to grasp it. 

“Uno!” Power proclaimed, slamming her card on the table and leaving her with…

Three cards. She had three.

“You’ve still got three left, dipshit,” Denji hissed at her. “I didn’t even go to school, and I know that!”

“Exactly, Uno,” She replied, crossing her arms like she did something. “Three letters in Uno, three cards in my grasp. Victory is mine!”

“Uno means one, actually,” You sighed, rubbing your temples. Suddenly, you could see why Aki was so stressed all the time around those two. Two cards sat in the palm of your hand, and you were conflicted. On one hand, granted the color remained green, you could put down your second to last card and call ‘Uno’. On the other…

“You’re lying to me!” Power slammed her fists down on Aki’s table. “You’re only saying that because he won the last one. The two of you are conspiring against me.”

Something told you she wouldn’t take another loss too well. 

Aki stirred in your lap, grumbling as he shifted, the sudden commotion disrupting his nap. He sat up slowly, his hair disheveled, and muttered something about grabbing a smoke. He pressed a sleepy kiss to the top of your head before standing and dragging his feet towards the sliding door that led to the balcony. The sound of the door sliding shut was softer than the clamor inside.

“Let’s just move on. We all know you’re not winning,” Denji sucked his teeth, ignoring Aki’s exit. He flicked through his hand (of 21 cards) before putting three green cards down. He chuckled to himself, “Victory is mine.”

Remembering the story Aki told you once about Power putting a hole in the door (and subsequently raising his rent) because she was upset that it didn’t open for her, you sighed, deciding to choose the higher road.

And instead of putting down your green six and shouting Uno, you shook your head, picking a card up from the pile. 

You could win another day.

Power put down two cards (which didn’t fully match, but, at this point, you weren’t going to clock her). “UNO!”

You threw your hands up in defeat. “Alright, alright, Power wins,” you said, your tone light with playful surrender.

Denji groaned and threw his cards down in frustration. “I want round four!” he demanded, already scooping up the pile.

You glanced toward the balcony, where Aki was leaning against the railing, fishing a cigarette from his pocket. He patted himself down, likely searching for his lighter.

You shook your head with a laugh. “You guys play without me,” you said, rising from your seat. “Take it to one of your rooms, though. Aki’s gonna lose it if he comes back and sees this mess.”

Both Denji and Power immediately protested. “But they’re your cards!” Denji said, frowning.

“Keep them,” you shrugged, offering him an easy smile. “They’re yours.”

“Really?” Denji’s eyes lit up, and his cheeks flushed a faint pink – and, for a moment, you were reminded of the fact that he was still a boy beneath everything he had been through. He hesitated for a moment, as if he didn’t trust his luck.

You chuckled softly, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Yeah. That way they’ll be here next time we play.”

Denji beamed, and Power—ever the sore loser despite somehow winning—began gathering the scattered cards with a huff.

You bit your lip, stealing a glance at Aki through the glass door. His figure was bathed in the pale glow of the city lights, his face calm as he finally lit his cigarette, taking a slow drag. 

Pushing yourself up from the floor, you padded softly toward the door, leaving Denji and Power behind to clean up their mess. As you slid the door open, the cool night air greeted you. Behind you, you could hear the muffled sounds of Denji and Power bickering about how to organize the deck.

But out here, it was just you and Aki.

You stepped closer, the sound of his exhale, the cigarette smoke curling into the night sky, filling the space between you.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” You smiled, shutting the door softly behind you. 

When he didn’t immediately acknowledge you, you took a spot next to him on the ledge, with your back up against it. The streets of Tokyo glimmered and bustled below. The skyline stretched out on either side of you. 

Finally, Aki answered through a mouthful of smoke, “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

You stuck your tongue into your cheek, “Who, Denji?” You asked. When your only response was Aki’s gaze, you glanced out over the balcony, “He’s harmless. It’s like a dog humping a visitor’s leg.”

Aki rolled the cigarette between his index and pointer finger before he wrapped his lips around it – slowly, deliberately, like he was lost in thought. “He can hump any other visitor he wants,” He answered. Then, voice a little lower, he added, “You’re mine.”

You bristled at that, a wonton chill running down your spine. Briefly, you remembered his words from earlier – This isn’t over. You may have gotten your fix, but he hadn’t. 

And lord knew, as weak as you were for him, you always gave Aki what he wanted.

The heat in your gut made it hard to breathe around him. Back pressed against the cold balcony, you looked into his eyes. Leaning over it with his arm crossed, he mirrored you. You weren’t used to seeing Aki’s jealous side.

But, shit, you weren’t sure you hated it.

“Not until after the divorce,” You remarked with a funny little half-smirk. You couldn’t even remember where you had left your wedding ring – back at the hotel, probably. Didn’t mean much in the first place.

Aki didn’t even crack a smile at your joke. No, he kept on gazing down at you with those thoughtful blue eyes of his, like he was trying to pick you apart at the seams. He looked at the skyline, then back at you, taking another puff of his cigarette and blowing it off to the side. 

“Hey,” You asked. Did I go too far? “What’s wrong? Too far?”

You didn’t get a response from him.

“You… You called me your girlfriend in front of those two the other week,” You sighed, “Did you… Did you mean… that? Would you wanna–” You swallowed, wishing that would kill off the butterflies that were swarming around in your belly. “Date… me?”

You had so much finesse. One of these days, you were gonna win an award for it – best conversationalist in the entire world.

Not.

To your surprise, he did answer that question, “Of course I am.”

You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Aki took another hit of his cigarette – and, truly, only he could make it look so enticing. 

“Are you serious about this? About us?” He asked, finally confronting the elephant in the room. “About leaving him?”

You blinked up at him, eyes wide, heartbeat thrumming against your ribs, “Of course I am. Why?”

“Because I don’t think I would be able to take getting my heart broken by you,” He answered truthfully, blowing his bangs out of his eyes so he could look at you. Then, after a beat, he stubbed his cigarette out on the railing, flicking the butt over the edge. He took a bold step towards you. 

“Tell me it’s just temporary. Just until the divorce,” He demanded. You hadn’t expected him to confront you about the issue head-on like that but, still, you supposed you couldn’t blame him. You were in and out of his life like a ghost, and your future with him was constantly at risk. When he was close enough to make your face flush, close enough that you could smell the scent of his soap and the smoke that lingered on his clothes, he said, “Tell me you’re mine.” 

His words felt like a confrontation, but you couldn’t find it in you to blame him. You had been in and out of his life like a ghost, your presence a fleeting comfort, your absence a constant uncertainty. How could he trust in something that always seemed to be at risk of slipping away?

He moved closer, so close that the warmth of his body seemed to chase away the cold that had begun to settle into your bones. You could smell him—his soap, the faint hint of cologne, the smoke that clung to his clothes. His scent was intoxicating, and you were already a little tipsy, more off him than the wine from earlier.

“I…” you began, throat dry as you licked your lips, your mind racing for the right words. Your eyes flickered briefly to the living room behind you, but it was empty, as if the world had shrunk down to just the two of you on this balcony. “Well, for the moment being—legally, I—”

He didn’t let you finish. “Fuck the law,” he cut you off, his voice hardening, his presence overwhelming, close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating off of his face. “Tell me you belong to me. Only me.”

His words smothered you, wrapping around you like a vice, and you felt your resolve crumble beneath the weight of his intensity. Your breath hitched, and when his nose brushed yours—just barely grazing, a near kiss that sent heat pooling low in your stomach—you let out a soft, involuntary sigh. Your hands trembled as they hovered near his chest, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m all yours.”

His hand shot out, gripping the back of your neck, pulling you toward him with a force that was almost possessive, but not unwelcome. Before you could catch your breath, his lips crashed against yours in a kiss that was rough, unyielding, and full of everything left unsaid.

Your body melted into his, and all thoughts of the cold, of the complications, of everything but him faded into the background. You were his. And in this moment, that was all that mattered.

The kiss was rough, demanding, as if Aki had been waiting for this moment for far too long. His grip on the back of your neck was firm, pulling you closer, claiming you. Your heart pounded against your ribs, every sense overwhelmed by him—his touch, his taste, the way his body felt pressed against yours. But as your lips collided, you realized how exhausting it was to keep craning your neck upward to kiss him.

Without breaking contact, you pushed him back, gently but insistently, guiding him toward the chair on the balcony. Aki stumbled slightly, caught off guard by your sudden movement, and as he fell into the chair, there was a brief pause—his back hit the seat with a soft thud. He looked up at you, his dark eyes filled with heat and surprise, and you couldn’t help but smile, standing over him in your bare-legged, his-sweater-wearing glory.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. Aki’s gaze traveled slowly up your legs, his hands following, fingertips tracing the soft skin of your thighs with deliberate slowness – like you were a blank canvas he was aching to paint. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, and your breath hitched as you watched him, heart thundering in your chest.

“And you,” you began, your voice catching in your throat as his hands slid higher, his fingers brushing just beneath the hem of the sweater. “Are you…?” You gasped quietly, biting your lip as his hands pressed into the soft flesh of your thighs, his touch both teasing and electrifying. “Are you mine?”

Aki’s eyes darkened, his breath coming out in a shallow exhale. “Yes,” he breathed, his voice rough, filled with something raw, something you hadn’t heard from him before. He looked up at you, his expression almost reverent as he pulled you down onto his lap, guiding you to straddle him. 

The moment your body settled against his, his hands gripped your waist, and without hesitation, his lips found yours again. The kiss was hungrier this time, as if now that he had you, he wasn’t willing to let go. His hands slid under the sweater, fingers splaying against your back, pulling you impossibly closer. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly as you deepened the kiss, feeling his breath hitch against your lips.

You deepened the kiss, feeling his breath hitch lightly against your lips. When you pulled away, the tension was back, heavier than before. Aki’s eyes met yours, darkened with that familiar intensity. You barely had time to catch your breath before his lips were on you again—rougher this time, needier. The kiss was messy, open-mouthed, his tongue sliding against yours with a kind of desperate hunger that left you breathless.

He was pressing up against your core – achingly hard, throbbing right up against your heat. It was too much and not enough at the same time.

His hands roamed your body, pulling you closer, his grip firm as if he was afraid to let go. You melted into him, completely giving in, your lips moving together with an urgency that had been building all evening. The sound of his heavy breathing mingled with yours, filling the little balcony.

When he finally pulled back, it was only for a second, just long enough to murmur against your lips, his voice rough and low. “You still want more, baby?”

“Always,” you breathed, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. “You?”

He grinned, that familiar mischievous spark lighting up his eyes, though now there was a darker edge to it. “I’m an addict. You already know this,” he said, his voice dropping to a playful purr. “I’ll have you whenever I can, wherever I can.”

A thrill shot through you, the heat between you both palpable. “Right here?” you teased, your lips curling into a smile. “Shouldn’t we go inside?”

“Why bother?” he quipped, his grin widening as his fingers traced the curve of your waist. His eyes darkened further, a glint of challenge sparking in them. “You scared?”

You felt the rush of adrenaline, a mix of fear and excitement, but you didn’t want to back down—not now. To prove it, you kissed him hard, pressing your body into his, letting your hands roam beneath his shirt. Your fingertips grazed over the hard lines of his abs, feeling his muscles tense under your touch.

He groaned into your mouth, and it spurred you on, the fire between you flaring even hotter – God, you loved how reactive he was.

“I’m still ready from earlier,” you whispered breathlessly against his lips, reaching between your body and his to tug impatiently at the drawstrings of his pants. “I can’t wait any longer.”

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against him as he growled, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. “Good,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “Neither can I.”

Then he was lifting his hips – and taking you with him, wiggling his pants just low enough to free his erection. He reached beneath your sweater, hooking the crotch of your panties beneath his finger and pulling them to the side with a quiet mumble of, “Stay quiet and we won’t get caught.”

You reached behind your ass, lining his head up with the place where you needed him the most. Then, taking a deep breath and holding it in anticipation, you pushed down on it. It was slight, just enough for the tip to be in – just enough to have you mewling, gripping his shoulders with unwarranted strength. A wince, and then you took in another inch or two.

His pretty blue eyes were on you – only you. Like he was amazed. Like you were the only thing he wanted. You loved the way they blinked slowly, waiting for your next move. You loved the way they seemed to glimmer beneath the moonlight. You loved the way they rolled back when you sank down onto him until your ass was flush up against his hips – finally melding your bodies together with a synchronized gasp.

He was warm, so warm. It felt as if he was meant to be there – buried deep inside of you, keeping you nice and full. 

You leaned down, licking his lower lip. With a groan, he gripped your hair at the base of your scalp roughly, slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressing your lips together. Then, he used his other hand to rock your hips back and forth – and it was the most agonizingly delicious sensation ever. You could feel your pussy aching with the stretch of him, a dull throb accompanied by the overwhelming pleasure you got every time he massaged your walls.

Back, then forth. Back, then forth – as if he had all of the time in the world to rock you in his lap.

You leaned your head back, letting your lips part around a contented sigh of, “Feels good, Aki”.

You lifted yourself off of his lap, then brought yourself back down – just once, just to test the waters. Immediately you were bathed in a familiar warmth, one that crawled its way down your spine from the back of your neck. It felt good– really good, so you did it again.

“Ah– hah,” He laughed breathlessly. Out here, it was dead silent. In fact, other than the noises from the street below, the only thing you could hear was your mingled pants, the quiet grunts he let out every time you moved. He seemed so pent up.

Then, you remembered that he was pent up. After all, he hadn’t gotten his fix yet.

So you did what any lover would have done in your shoes. You braced your hands on his strong, broad shoulders and planted your feet firmly for support, bouncing on his dick the way you knew he liked. The way that drove him crazy.

He let out a long, drawn-out, sinful moan of your name. The syllables sounded like a symphony falling from his lips. “You’re gonna kill me.”

And, fuck, you were seeing stars. He was so deeply nestled in your guts that you didn’t think you would ever be able to form a coherent thought again. Dickwhipped, just as Himeno said.

You thought of him on this very same balcony only a few months earlier, confessing to you. 

“I’m a bad influence on you, aren’t I?” He mused quietly. His hand ghosted over your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake, gripping your chin and gently tilting your gaze up to meet his eyes.  “I have a better idea.”

You raised a brow at his antics. Wordlessly, he took a long, lazy drag or his cigarette. His thumb tugged down on your lower lip, begging for entry – which you provided obediently. 

He was the image of sin, pretty blues half-lidded and trained on the place where his calloused thumb met your lip. He brought your face closer to his slowly, like he was trying to gauge your feelings before he made his move. 

Then – when his mouth brushed delicately against yours  – he tugged your lip open in tandem with his own, breathing the smoke into your mouth.

And you felt yourself shiver – perhaps it was the cold gust of wind that hit your back. Either way, you stopped, telling him, “You’re so hot when you smoke, you know that? You make it look so tempting.”

“You think?” He breathed – his words light but his voice heavy. “Don’t start.”

“It turns me on,” You admitted.

His eyes widened at that. Then, they darkened. Slowly, he reached for the carton of cigarettes he had discarded on the table earlier – it was standing upright atop a stack of magazines and newspapers. Flipping it open with one hand, he fished a stick out, popping it between his teeth.

He replaced the carton on the table, handing you his lucky lighter. 

“Spark me, pretty mama,” He spoke lazily, eyes half lidded and dangerous. 

You did exactly that – like he wasn’t still throbbing inside of you, like you weren’t dripping down his thighs – holding the lighter up to his lips and striking it until the flame took. Once the end of the cig sizzled, you set it down on the table.

Aki puffed smoke out of the corner of his mouth, then pulled a long, savory drag. The smoke poured out of his nose, then his lips. 

“Addict,” He hummed.

“That’s rich–” You began, sucking your teeth at him with the slightest pout, interrupted only when he gripped the fat of your ass, picking you up and bouncing you gently enough that his dick shifted inside of you. The pleasure was searing white-hot, utterly intoxicating. “Fuckin– shit…”

“Keep going how you were going before,” He hummed. His digits formed a little peace sign in front of his face as he pulled another hit, then pinched the cigarette as he breathed it out to the side. When you started bouncing with a little more vigor, he laid his head back, sighing with content, “You got it, just like that.”

“Feel so fuckin’ good inside of me,” You praised him, chasing that high you so-desperately craved.

“Such a good girl. Always following orders,” He tilted his head at you. Then, the young Captain rolled his tongue over your lower lip, commanding, “Open up.”

You opened your mouth, half expecting him to spit into it, but that never happened. Instead, his hand traced a path from your lips down to your neck. His fingers wrapped themselves around your throat, keeping a grip strong enough to have your head feeling light with heady desire. Then, while your mouth was still open, he pulled you in closer – all while encouraging you quietly to keep going.

He turned his head to the side, sucking on his cigarette until the cherry burned bright orange. Then, he opened his mouth and moved a little closer, lining your lips up just enough– just right, so that he could shotgun the smoke into your eager mouth.

The pleasure burned white hot, deep inside of you. 

“Hold it,” He told you.

You sealed your lips around the smoke, even when it burned– even when it made your eyes water. You would do anything for him. 

Then, breathlessly, he connected your lips, sucking the smoke back out of your mouth. He turned his head to the side and breathed it out.

You bounced on him even harder – until the chair was creaking with the force of how hard you were riding him.

“Aki,” You gasped – loud enough for him to hear, but quiet enough that the others wouldn’t. “Aki, baby.”

He pressed your thighs together, rolling you back and forth just right – just enough that you could feel the length of him splitting you apart with the most delicious squelch. Your eyes rolled so far back you damn near saw the back of your skull.

“I’m right here,” He answered. He gripped your hip a little harder with the free hand he had, eyes squeezing shut, muttering against your lips, “God– You’re so good, feel so good– So good for me.”

Without breaking the kiss, he scooped you up into his big, strong arms. He threw your legs around his waist haphazardly.

And you, as weak for him as you were, found yourself kissing him back. Kissing him until your lungs burned with the strain of it, until he set you down and backed you up against the balcony.

“Wanna bend you over the ledge and let the whole city know whose ass this is,” He panted. His hand replaced itself on your jaw – fingers digging into the skin of your neck. “You want that? Want me to show them all?”

He spun you around and pressed your back down until your chest met the cold railing. He kicked your trembling legs apart, slotting himself beneath them.

You could feel him pressed up against you, his warmth, his hard angles, and it sent a jolt of electricity through your entire body.

“It’s mine,” He growled into a kiss against the back of your neck. “Don’t give a shit what the law says. You’re mine.”

You hated how right he was. From the start, it had been that way. The moment he’d bought you that damned glass of wine at the Public Safety party, your husband couldn’t have been further from your mind.

“Aki, I–” You were about to say, but the words died in your throat when he nestled his cockhead between your folds and slid right back in – deeper this time, out where the whole world could see you. You gasped out like it was ripped from your lungs, fingers digging into the railing while he split you open. “Fuck!” 

You were about to fucking pass out. He slid into you with such ease, fuck.

He ran his hand up your back – hiking the sweater up, sliding further up until his fingers threaded themselves into your hair. Then, roughly, he gripped you by the scalp and craned your head back.

“Let ‘em know, then, baby,” He growled. “Let em know who’s fucking you like this.”

He resumed his harsh pace, and you were seeing stars, shapes, colors. Every time his pelvis smacked against your ass, every time he bottomed out inside of you – over and over and over, all you could do was gasp and cry for him. 

“Aki-iii–” You moaned, reaching back to dig your fingernails into his sweatpants. “Aki!”

He was, without a fraction of a doubt, fucking the everloving shit out of you. Fucking you so hard your eyes were fluttering shut, so hard you couldn’t help but wonder if your husband could hear you all the way over there, on the other side of Tokyo.

“You’re mine,” He growled, landing a smack to your ass, going hard enough for it to hurt just right. “Right, hmm? Allllll mine.”

“God, yes!” You cried out – all but screaming the words. “Fuck, ye-es!”

“Fuck, it’s all mine,” Your husband panted, thrusting into you one last time before stilling.

You felt his seed fill you. With a wince, you bit your lip. A few more pants, and he was collapsing on top of you.

“That was fuckin’ great,” He laughed breathlessly. “Did you cum?”

You forced a smile. “Yeah,” you lied, “Yeah, I did.”

“Aki, don’t stop–” You whined, feeling him pistoning into you – hitting that spot that had your legs shaking. “Aki, ‘m close! Fuck, ‘m so close, don’t stop!”

“I won’t, baby,” He answered you. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Pretty pussy. All mine, yeah?”

“Mhm,” You answered dumbly.

A few more harsh thrusts, and you were teetering over the edge. A few more, and you were dripping for him, dripping down your thighs, dripping onto the balcony. 

“Say it,” He gasped out.

You obeyed, “‘S yours.”

You were close. So close that you could feel the train coming an awful lot sooner than you expected.

“Louder,” He said again.

You bit back a moan, feeling your legs begin to tremble again with the weight of your impending release. You were close, too close to resist him. You glanced back at him, watching as his mouth parted to release a shaky gasp of your name. He made it look so pretty, so sinful. His legs shook against the back of your own. The muscles in his abdomen tensed up.

Guess I'm not the only one getting close to losing it.

"Yes! Yes!" You gasped out as he landed another spank on your ass. "It’s yours!" His eyes met yours in a lustful daze.

His.

"Mine," He growled back in response. "No one else's."

You were getting closer now. The coil in your stomach was pulled as tight as it could go. "Mmh- yours!"

“Cum for me, baby,” He growled into your ear, leaning over to press a kiss to your neck. “Let the whole city know.”

Finally, you cried, “Fuckin’ love you, fuck– ‘M cumming– Oh, God, I’m cumming!”

The coil snapped, and your hips jolted rhythmically against him. You felt your walls clench around his dick, a sensation that made him lurch forward and reach his own orgasm.

This one hit you even harder than before, wave after wave of powerful pleasure shooting through you at the speed of light – back arching as he spilled into you.

He went for your lips again immediately after, kissing you softly while the two of you came down from your high. He kissed you breathlessly, passionately, like he would die if he stopped.

You pulled away from him with a breathless laugh. “Denji told us to be quiet. You think he heard us?”

“I’m sure they heard us down in Osaka,” He retorted. Easing out of you, he kissed your cheek, “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

You leaned into Aki’s warmth, letting his arm settle over you as he drifted, his breathing soft and even. It was so quiet in his room, so still, with only the faint hum of the city filtering through the window. Every time you stirred, his grip tightened—each small movement pulling you deeper into a comfort you didn’t expect to find, a warmth that was just... easy. Your mind told you to leave, to pull yourself out of his bed and back to your real life, but you kept slipping further into his quiet embrace, letting the soft rhythm of his breathing lull you closer to sleep.

When you finally shifted to get up, his arm tightened, and a small groan slipped from his lips. “No, stay,” he murmured, half-awake, his voice rough and muffled in the pillow.

You froze, caught off guard by the quiet plea in his voice, the lazy way he pulled you back into his warmth, his eyes still barely open. “Just for a minute,” you whispered, barely believing the words yourself as you settled back into his bed, close enough to feel his steady breaths against your shoulder.

And somehow, that minute stretched on, fading into a quiet comfort that slipped you straight into sleep.

You didn’t know how long you’d been asleep when you jolted awake, your eyes flying open in the gray pre-dawn light. You grabbed your phone, the bright screen stinging in the dim room as your heart lurched—three missed calls. Tanimoto. Your chest tightened as you quickly checked the time. Three hours late. And no response.

Your hand shook as you reached over, placing it lightly on Aki’s shoulder. “Aki,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the quiet. He shifted, his eyes cracking open, barely awake.

“I need to go,” you said, trying to steady your breath, keeping your voice low. “I was supposed to be home three hours ago. I… have four missed calls from my husband.”

It took him a second to process your words, his eyes foggy with sleep, his brow furrowing as he glanced at you. “Oh.” He blinked, nodding vaguely, his expression softening as he drifted back under, already halfway lost in sleep again before you’d even moved from the bed.

Your stomach twisted as you looked at him, his face relaxed in the soft morning light, that gentleness still hanging in the air. You stood, gathering your things as quietly as you could, moving slowly to keep from waking him. With one last look back at his sleeping form, you slipped out of his apartment and into the early morning chill, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself.

The streets were empty, the world still draped in that soft gray light, suspended between night and morning. It felt surreal, the cold air biting as you made your way back to the hotel, your heart pounding faster with each step closer to the door. Everything about the night felt like a blur, a vivid dream you couldn’t quite hold on to as reality crept back in.

By the time you slipped your key into the lock and stepped inside, it was close to four in the morning. You froze, the silence pressing in around you, the kind that only the early morning could bring. Setting your keys down on the table, you glanced around the room, the stillness somehow both familiar and foreign, like you were seeing it for the first time and knowing it by heart at once.

Moving quietly, you slipped into the bedroom, the dim outline of Tanimoto’s form on the bed barely visible in the low light. His breathing was steady, calm, a stark contrast to the way your own pulse hammered in your chest. You paused, watching him for a moment, feeling the familiar ache that always seemed to linger, a tension you couldn’t name, and slowly let out a breath.

You slid into bed beside him, the cool sheets clinging to your skin as you settled in, a scowl twisting your lips as you stared at the ceiling. Every sound seemed louder here, the soft hum of the heater, the faint creak of the mattress, even Tanimoto’s gentle breathing beside you—each one a reminder of everything else, the weight of the night sinking in, pressing down on you in the quiet.

But as you lay there, the events of the night replayed in your mind. Aki’s quiet “stay” whispered through your thoughts, lingering there, unshakable, like a memory that refused to fade. You could still feel his arm around you, his warmth, that slight hitch in his breath when he’d pulled you close. And then Tanimoto’s missed calls, lighting up your screen with an urgency that made your stomach twist with guilt.

A sigh slipped from your lips, and you closed your eyes, trying to push it all away. But it clung to you, that sense of being caught between two worlds, pulled in two directions at once. The ache of it made your chest tighten, the memory of Aki’s soft plea echoing in your mind. You could almost still feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, the gentle weight of his arm around you, lulling you into sleep.You were fucked. (And you were fucked good).

a/n: heyyyy…. ahem… how yall doing after that……… look you already know im one feral mf. no one make eye contact rn. god i love him and i LOVED writing this chapter. i hope you all enjoyed reading it just as much!! its all uphill tension from here! Lmfao! ttm in the comments!! how r yall? howd you like it?? what do you want to see in coming chapters?? Also, QOTD: is anime himeno a groomer? (and why is the answer yes)

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

[thestarkster1465]

TID & TLH Incorrect Quotes

Cordelia: The best part of an oreo is the cookie part, not the frosting. Deal with it. Matthew: Darkness without light is an abyss. Light without darkness is blinding. You cannot have a coin with one side. Alastair: Yo Socrates, it’s a fucking cookie

x

*Tessa going to Will for help after Sophie knocks out Jessamine with a mirror in Clockwork Princess*

Tessa: Will, I need some advice. Will: You need advice from ME? Tessa: Yeah, frightening, isn't it?

x

Charlotte: We've got to find a way to cut down our expenses. What can we live without? Jessamine: Will, probably.

x

Matthew: How would you like your coffee? James: As dark and as bitter as my soul. Matthew, to someone behind the counter: I need one vanilla latte with extra cream and sugar.

x

Will: Goddamn it, the printer broke while printing out Jem's birthday invitations. Tessa: Well, what are they supposed to say? Will: "Jem's birthday". Tessa: So, what do they say instead? Will: "Jem’s bi". Tessa: Tessa: Works out either way.

x

Jem: That's ridiculous, Will doesn't have a crush on me. Tessa: Yes he does. Cecily: Yes he does. Will: Yes I do.

x

James: Matthew, fuck off. James: And by "fuck off" I mean "fuck off right back here and listen", you insufferable prick.

x

Matthew: Alastair, my old friend! Alastair: I think you tried to kill me at some point. Matthew: That was obviously just my way of getting to know you.

x

Cordelia: Look guys, I need help. Anna: Love help? Matthew: Financial help? James: Emotional help? Lucie: Help moving a body? *Everybody looks at Lucie* Lucie: What?

x

Jem: It's pretty cold outside.. wanna hold hands? We should stay close. Tessa, blushing: Okay. Jessamine: It's fucking summer.

x

Jem: Will, what does IDK, ILY, and TTYL mean? Will: I don’t know, I love you, talk to you later. Jem: Alright, I love you too, I'll ask Tessa. Will: Wait- Jem, no-

x

James: Can we go to a haunted house? Lucie: What’s wrong with the one we live in? James: Wh-what? Lucie: Goodnight, Jamie.

x

Lucie: *gets a text* Oh! It’s Grace. Malcolm: Did she get me the stuff? Lucie: Yeah, she says she got you the clown costume, the power drill, and 12 gallons of blood. Malcolm: Wow! Where’d she find 12 gallons of fake blood? Lucie: You wanted fake blood? Malcolm: Lucie: I’ll go call Grace.

x

Jessamine: Bet you can’t eat 15 crayons! Will: Bet you I can! Charlotte: *sips coffee, checks to make sure 911 is still on speed dial, and goes back to reading the paper*

x

James: I like to think of myself as a semi responsible adult here. Lucie: Matthew is 70% of your impulse control and you know this Jamie. Matthew: I feel like James is the more responsible one of us two, though. James: We are both 70% of each others' impulse control. Matthew: Just two lil beasts in pinwheel hats spinning on the merry-go-round at dangerous velocities, holding each other’s hands so the other doesn’t fall off.

x

Will: Would you take a bullet for me? Jem: ...yes? *Jessamine angrily burst into the room* Will: *running away* Great, thanks!

x

Jem: I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No response. Will: Wow. They sound stupid. Jem: But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just dense. Will: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!” Jem: I guess you’re right. Hey Will, I love you. Will: See! Just say that! Jem: Holy fucking shit. Will: If that flies over their head then, sorry Jem, but they're too dumb for you. Jem: Will.

x

Tatiana: Oh, so when crows remember people who wronged them and hold grudges, its “intelligent” and “really cool”. Tatiana: But when I do it, I’m “petty” and “need to let it go”.

x

Charlotte: Did you miss me while I was gone? Henry: You were gone?

x

Charlotte: I am in charge of this disaster. Will: I have a name, you know.

x

James, hungover: Please tell me I'm imagining that I claimed I was king of the ducks. Lucie: I would, but then I would be lying to the King of All Ducks.

x

Matthew: Do you think different paints have different tastes? Christopher: They do. Thomas: ...Why did you say that with such certainty?

x

Matthew: If I die, my funeral will be the biggest party ever and you're all invited. Thomas: "If" Alastair: Great, the only party I'm ever invited to and he might not even die.

x

Tessa: How do you do that? Will: I'm fearless. Jem: I saw you run from bees ducks yesterday. You flailed around and tripped over a chair. It was both hysterical and sad. Will: I'm mostly fearless.

[purple-babygirl]

you got me reading all your works from 4 AM till 6 AM today, and I have zero regrets. And I’d do it all again. I truly love all of your works, especially those that has anything to do with Bucky.

Now all I can think about is Bucky’s reaction and care to finding out that his Little got an injury—one that she been hiding from him. Omg the fluff.

Anyway, have a great day!

Pairing: Poly!SamBucky x little!f!reader

Word count: 3,381 (i know i know...)

Warnings: polyamory, ddlg dynamics, excessive, probably unnecessary, fluff no one asked for.

A/N: Nonnie, I'm honored💜. Thank you so much for sending me this, you've warmed my heart to no extent💜💜. It is everything when you tell me you like what I share with you. You're so amazing and I hope I'll always deliver and never disappoint you ily:"💜 I know you only said Bucky but I couldn't help but get Papa!Sam in there too, hope you're not mad at me?:" Please enjoy xx.

~~

don't hide

"Oh, we forgot the toilet paper!" Sam groaned, "I'll go get it. Wait here, sugar, okay? Eyes on the bags and don't move. Papa will be right back," he said before marching back to the big store's entrance, leaving her by the car with all the grocery bags.

Papa said to wait there. Papa warned her that the ground was snowy and slippery and dangerous. Papa told her not to move, she reminded herself but she just couldn't help it. She had to grab that orange.

A bag had fallen on its side out of nowhere and an orange had fallen out and rolled away. She needed to get it before Papa came back or else he'd know she wasn't watching the bags and was zoned out instead. She'd be careful and she'd take the fruit and come back to where Papa left her and he wouldn't even know it. She'd take small steps and she'd be quick. Plus, she was a big girl; she'd never slip, right?

Wrong.

Before she could catch herself, her foot was slipping, her arms were flailing and she was on her back on the cold, hard icy ground. She squeaked, pain shooting through her spine like an electric shock. Through panic and pain, she got hold of the stray fruit, managing to get herself up and back to where she was supposed to be standing the whole time before Sam made his way back to her.

"There we go," Sam sighed, setting the bag with the toilet paper beside the others and opening the car.

She was silent, biting down on her lip to stifle the pained whimpers ready to leave her mouth.

"You ready to go, sugar?" He asked her as he stacked the last bag in the car, slamming the back shut.

"Yes, papa." She nodded, the bones supporting her neck hurting as she tried her best not to cry when she slightly bent to get in the backseat.

She didn't say anything. She couldn't. Daddy and Papa were taking her sledding in the park the next day and she couldn't even be good and obey one single thing she was told. They'd definitely cancel the whole day and make her stay home if they knew what she did. And not only that but she'd surely be punished for not listening and not being careful enough. She could take it. She could play, sled and smile through the pain. Plus, she was a big girl; she could handle a little fall, right?

Wrong.

Her back was killing her. She tried not to hiss when Papa put her seat belt on for her. She had no idea how she'd make it through the day.

~

"Show daddy what you got him, sugar!" Sam encouraged after leaving the bag of goods on the table for her, walking to the kitchen to drop a bunch of grocery bags

She carefully pulled a chair out and slowly climbed on top, rummaging through the bag until she found a packet of Bucky's favourite cookies. She'd pointed at them as soon as she saw them at the store and didn't stop until Papa got them down the high shelf and into the cart.

Bucky's appreciative smile lit up the room, "oh, for me?"

"Yes, daddy. Got 'em for you." She nodded timidly, playing with her sleeve.

He accepted the cookies with a giddy grin and went to store them in place in the kitchen. She giggled, proud she was the reason Daddy was smiling.

"Thank you, love." Before she could stop him, Bucky was hugging her tight, metal arm pressing on her back to pull her body to his.

The chocked whimper she let out didn't go unnoticed by the super soldier.

"You okay, doll?" Bucky raised a worried brow, flesh hand rubbing circles on her back as a sort of habit.

"Yes, daddy. I'm fine," she lied, held-in tears burning the back of her eyes. She just needed him to stop touching her spine.

"You sure?"

"Sugar, go wash your hands we just got back from outside," Sam reminded, saving her from repeating the lie to Bucky.

"Yes, papa." Her socked feet padded on the floor as she left for the bathroom.

Bucky shrugged it off for now, walking outside to help Sam with the bags. She probably wanted more candy than she was allowed and Sam refused or something of that sort.

~

When she was done washing her hands, she tiptoed to her bedroom and did her best to redress herself fast. Her discoloured skin looked awful in the mirror. She couldn't let her daddies see the huge bruise that was forming on her back, innocently praying it'd disappear over night so they could still go sledding the next morning.

"You changed by yourself?" Sam furrowed his eyebrows upon seeing her in a comfier outfit. He knew for a fact Bucky didn't help her because he was washing strawberries in the sink behind him.

"Yes, papa," she muttered hesitantly, fearing his reaction.

"Why didn't you call me or daddy, baby? We could've helped."

"Papa and daddy are busy, didn' wanna bother you," she lied again.

"Doll, we'll never be too busy to look after our favourite girl. You can always ask for daddy and papa's help, okay?" Bucky assured her gently.

"Yes, dada."

"Good girl, here," Bucky grinned, offering her a strawberry.

"Tank you." She took it with a smile and hummed after the first bite, making Sam chuckle.

"You did a good job dressing yourself, sugar. We're proud of you." Sam let his hand cradle the small of her back so he could kiss her forehead.

She whimpered again, biting her lip hard and closing her eyes.

"Everything alright, baby?"

"Yes, papa. Strawberry tastes so good."

"Okay, baby. Go play in your room till me and daddy get lunch ready."

"Yes, papa." She pecked Sam's cheek before leaving the kitchen.

"She's lying," Bucky told his husband as soon as she got inside her playroom.

"I know."

~

She spent the rest of the morning suffering in silence. Her back hurt whenever it came in contact with anything. She couldn't lean forward, or backward. She couldn't even lay down for nap time, crying into her pillow as soon as her daddies left the room.

She'd try not to whine when Daddy's palm touched her upper back. She couldn't enjoy watching her favourite show on TV because she was too busy trying not to pull away when Papa hugged her to his chest while she was on his lap.

As the hours passed, she was in so much pain it was showing all over her face. Sam and Bucky were worried that she wasn't saying anything. They knew something was wrong they just didn't know what. They failed to notice her features scrunching up in pain whenever they touched her because, in their defense, they were always touching her. So they couldn't really pinpoint the problem.

"There you go, sugar." Sam handed her a plastic cup, half full of strawberry milk he'd just whipped in the blender for her.

"Thank you, papa." She smiled gratefully, stretching her neck to kiss his cheek, her face twisting in pain as a result.

"Doll, are you sure you're okay? Do you have a tummy ache? Do you feel sick?" Bucky questioned softly, all while rubbing circles on her upper back.

"No, dada. I'm okay," she continued to lie, sipping from her straw quickly so maybe Bucky would stop and let her drink in peace.

Bucky looked to Sam in defeat and the latter just shrugged at him helplessly.

"Love, me and papa are worried there's something you're not telling us." Bucky's hand caressed further down to the small of her back and she couldn't help but wince, dropping her cup.

Strawberry milk covered her chest and lap and she couldn't hold it in anymore. She started crying and apologizing, thinking there was no way out of punishment for her now. They were going to find out.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, sugar. It was an accident. It's okay." Sam tried to soothe her but her cries only grew louder as she let all the tears out.

Her body hurt so bad and it didn't help that Bucky was patting her back to calm her coughs and sobs.

"Come with me, doll. Let's get you cleaned up." She cried harder at Bucky's statement, knowing they were going to see her back now.

"No, daddy, please. Don't wanna." She shook her head, choking on her tears. She made no effort to go to his open arms like she would.

It broke Bucky's heart a tiny bit. He started to think he'd done something; that she was like that all day because of him for some reason.

"But baby, you're soaked in milk. You can't stay like that!" Sam didn't wait for her refusal, slipping his arms under her legs and carrying her body off the couch.

"No, no, papa, please." Her tears wet Sam's sweater, her thrashing hurting her muscles even more.

"Stop crying, sugar. Tell me what's wrong," Sam said, sitting down on the closed toilet lid with her on his lap.

She remained silent, her fist rubbing at her teary eye and her lips trembling.

"Is there anything you wanna tell me and daddy, baby?" Sam tried again, making brief eye contact with a worried Bucky preparing a bath.

"Wanna shower by myself," she muttered when her sobs died out, tears still leaving her red eyes.

"You know we can't let you do that, doll," Bucky sighed.

"B-But I dressed by myself," she cried more, leaning on Sam's chest.

"This is different, baby." He kissed her forehead.

"Why don't you want our help, doll? What is it?"

She was quiet again, making both men sigh.

"Alright, love, hands up," Bucky instructed but she shook her head.

"Come on now, be good. We gotta get you cleaned up, baby, or you're gonna be all sticky," Sam told her, fingers tugging at the hem of her sweater.

She gave up fighting; her back was sore and she knew her daddies were going to get her in that bath no matter what. She closed her eyes when the sweater was pulled over her head, preparing herself for Daddy's reaction.

"My goodness, doll! What happened?!" Bucky exclaimed in worry and she started sobbing again.

"What is it?"

"Look at her back, it's messed up!" Bucky gestured to the huge purple and blue bruise, whispering the last part of his sentence.

"Oh my god! How did you get this?!" Sam's eyes widened as he questioned her and she only cried more.

It broke their heart. She was in so much pain all morning and they had no idea. How could they be so inattentive?

"Hey, baby, no, it's alright. We just wanna know how you got hurt, sugar. You're not in trouble," Sam reassured, pushing her hair out of her face while Bucky ever so tenderly examined her bruises.

"I'm sorry, papa. I'm so sorry," she cried in his chest, "I- I didn' listen when you- told me to stay I- the orange fell out an- and I wanted to get it and I fell d-down an' hurt m-myself." She tried to explain between hiccups as Sam bit down in realization and regret.

"Aw, sugar," Sam sighed, feeling guilt gnaw at him for leaving her alone by the car. What was he thinking? How could he leave her all by herself like that? She was just a little baby!

"Papa's sorry, baby. Papa's so sorry he left you standing alone and went back inside." Sam apologized, kissing away the tears soaking her cheeks while she sniffled and hiccuped.

"Don't cry, doll. We're not sad with you. You didn't do anything wrong," Bucky cooed, his thumb wiping the tears down her chin and neck.

"B-But I was bad." She looked at Bucky with teary eyes.

"No, doll, you weren't bad. You were just tryna help Papa because you're a good girl." Bucky kissed her temple, holding her forehead to his cheek while he looked at Sam.

The man was zoned out, probably beating himself up somewhere in his mind.

"Let's just get you in the tub for now and then we can let the doctor take a look at your back, okay?"

"What if he gives me shots?"

"He's not gonna give you shots, doll. Only something to apply to your bruise, nothing painful or scary." Bucky promised, easing her off Sam's lap to get the rest of her clothes off.

Sam scratched his head before abruptly standing from the toilet seat, "I'll go start dinner."

Bucky sighed when his husband left the bathroom. He knew Sam was feeling guilty for their baby getting hurt and while he wanted to assure him it wasn't his fault, he had to tend to her for the time being.

"There you go, doll." Bucky carefully lowered her in the tub, letting the warm, soaped water soothe the ache in her muscles.

"Dada, can you come too?" She asked quietly, noiseless tears still leaving her eyes.

Bucky stripped himself at once, cautiously getting behind her in the tub before pressing her back to his chest. She sighed as he held her to him, Bucky's chest being much comfier than the solid ceramic of the tub.

"Is papa mad at me?" She asked Bucky, her voice trembling and breaking as she continued to cry.

"No, no, doll. Papa's not mad at you one bit, he's just worried about you," Bucky said, his hands rubbing softly on her tummy as he kissed her shoulder.

"Then why'd he leave?" Her voice was squishing Bucky's heart and he just wanted both his babies to feel better.

"He's preparing dinner for you, baby. Papa loves you; he could never be mad at you." Bucky turned her head so she could face him and wiped her tears away.

"We love you, doll. No one is mad at you. Daddy and Papa only want you to be okay. We just wanna keep you safe," Bucky told her warmly and she nodded, wrapping her arms around Bucky's neck and burrowing her face in the crook of it.

~

After her bath, Bucky got out first, telling her to wait while he got towels. But instead his legs took him to Sam.

"I feel like shit for not noticing too," Bucky muttered behind his spouse.

"It's not only that- what are you doing strolling around the house in just a towel after a warm bath?! Bucky, you'll catch a cold-" Sam scolded when he turned around and saw Bucky undressed.

Bucky put his mouth on Sam's in an attempt to calm his anxiety.

"I'm gonna be fine and so is she," Bucky promised against Sam's lips, cupping his cheek.

"I left her alone, Buck. She got hurt because of me."

"No, love, no. It was an accident. It could've happened anywhere any time."

"I still shouldn't have left her."

"Then we know not to do it again. Don't beat yourself up over it and distance yourself like that."

"I'm not distancing myself."

"Sam, she thinks you're sad with her. Please, love," Bucky begged, his thumb swiping over Sam's skin until the latter nodded with a sigh.

"Now go put on something."

"I thought you liked me naked," Bucky teased.

"Go." Sam lightly slapped his rear.

"I'm going." Bucky laughed, kissing Sam's lips one last time before retreating to the bathroom.

~

Bucky dressed her in something warm and told her to wait a minute while he got ready so he could take her to the doctor's. She peaked out of her room, hearing onions sizzling in the kitchen. She walked over to Sam as he poured tomato juice and the pot hissed.

"Papa? Are you mad?" She tugged at Sam's sleeve, red-rimmed eyes staring up at the man.

Sam sighed, turning off the stove. He took her hand in his and walked out of the kitchen with her, sitting down on the couch and motioning for her to sit on his lap.

"Why didn't you say anything, sugar?" Sam asked, putting her hair behind her ear.

"I'm sorry, papa," shs teared up, "I thought you'd be mad at me and think I'm bad and not wanna take me sledding no more."

"Baby, I'd never get mad at you for getting hurt. Ever." Sam reassured her, not letting his eyes get glossy with the tears he held in.

"If you get hurt me and papa will take care of you no matter what, doll. That's the only consequence. Do you understand me, love?" Bucky added, walking out of the bedroom with a jacket in hand.

"Yes, daddy." She nodded, throwing herself in Bucky's arms, "I'm sorry. I love you."

"We love you too, doll." Bucky kissed her head, careful not to hug or squeeze her too tight.

"Papa, will you come to the doctor wimme and daddy?" She asked Sam sweetly, leaning on his chest after leaving Bucky's hold.

"Of course, sugar." Sam's thumb stroked her cheek softly.

"And we can still go sledding in the park tomorrow?"

"Oh no, baby, we can't go tomorrow."

"But you said you weren't mad." Her lip jutted out in a pout.

"I'm not mad, baby, I promise, but you're hurt."

"But the doctor is gonna fix it," she whined

"He's a doctor, sugar, not a wizard!" Sam chuckled

"Because wizards don't exist."

"They do exist, but that's not the point," Sam argued and Bucky playfully rolled his eyes behind her back.

"But papa-"

"No buts, doll. We'll go as soon as you get better and we'll stay as long as you want, yeah?"

"Yes, daddy." She complied, knowing they were right; her back was achy and stinging.

~

As promised the doctor gave her no needles, only a prescription of a cream for her back and a painkiller.

"Daddy, I don't wanna," she whimpered as Bucky lifted her PJs up. She was afraid of the pain she would feel once Bucky started massaging the substance onto her skin.

"I'm gonna be gentle, doll. I promise."

"It's gonna hurt," she complained more.

"Here, sugar, hold papa's hands and daddy will be done before you know it." Sam opened his palms and she immediately put her smaller hands on top.

"There you go, all set. We're ready, daddy," Sam told Bucky, squeezing her hands and smiling comfortingly at her.

She gave half a smile back, blushing as she felt Bucky ever so softly lay kisses down her hurt back.

Sam chuckled, kissing the back of her hand. She slightly hissed when Bucky touched her skin with the cold cream, his pointer and middle spreading it around on the bruises.

"Anywhere else hurts, love?"

"Right here, daddy." She pointed to the back of her neck.

Before Bucky could, Sam tilted himself forward and kissed from the ends of her hair down to where her neck met her back. She giggled, Sam's lips tickling her. The man chuckled again, pecking her cheek.

"Papa?" She held his hands in hers.

"Yes, baby?"

"I love you." She wasn't unaware of how he blamed himself for her little accident and she wanted to let him know it was alright; she was alright.

"I love you more, sugar." Sam smiled, relieved, pressing his lips to her forehead.

"Starting to feel seriously left out over here," Bucky said, wiping his fingers on a tissue.

Sam rolled his eyes at his needy-for-attention husband before cupping his cheek and kissing his forehead as well, sending blood to his cheeks.

"I love you, daddy," she whispered, squeezing Bucky's right hand.

"I love you more, doll." Bucky echoed his partner, kissing her hand.

For the whole week, Papa and Daddy let her sleep on top of their chests, seeing as cuddling and spooning weren't options and they still wanted to be close. She'd alternate between the men as the nights passed.

Eventually, they did go sledding in the park when she healed, three days in a row. She loved it and she laughed so much till her cheeks hurt. She could handle a little fall after all; she could handle anything as long as Sam and Bucky were there to take care of her through it.

[anyoneseenadam]

omg can u do smth about the inner circle finding out about reader and azriel’s relationship? maybe they’ve been like secretly dating for a while! ily <3

pairing: Azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: butt ton of fluff

a/n: i made this a part two to this fic! but it can be read separately, i love az sm so i hope you enjoy!! (this has not been proofread sorry lol)

------------------------------------——————————

A week later you were invited up to the house of wind. Azriel was swamped with work and missed you, and since he stayed there most the time he had dragged you in with him.

Currently you were lying in his bed, curled around a long pillow, and sleeping, wearing one of his shirts and your panties while he trained. He had promised you he would introduce you all soon but so far you had been sneaking about the house. A task that was easy for the spymaster, but less so for you.

He had tried to treat it like a holiday. Sneaking you down to the kitchen to bake cookies at midnight and spending nights on the roof, pointing out constellations.

When you had first arrived Azriel had explained what was going on with Nesta and Cassian as he snuck you in. While you were walking up, giggling behind one hand, the other tightly clasped in Azriel’s warm calloused hand, you had run into Nesta. Your eyes had widened meeting her, stomach dropping as she sized you up and down.

“Nesta,” Azriel’s voice calmed you slightly as you wrapped both hands around one of his, moving behind him ever so slightly. “This is my girlfriend; we’ve been dating for about six months and you cannot tell Cassian.”

She had smiled then and reached a hand out to shake yours, “am I the first to find out then?” she asked and you nodded.

“I’m (y/n).” You muttered, some confidence coming back.

“Pleasure to meet you, if you ever need someone to bitch too about him come to my room,” she left with a warm smile and you laughed, turning to Azriel.

“I like her,” you said, and he looked down at you frowning.

“Why would you need to bitch about me?” he asked, and you kissed his pout away, pulling his hand to continue onwards.

“Probably cause you smell.” He jabbed your side before picking you up and carrying you over his shoulder into his room, dumping you on the bed and crawling over you.

“Horrible girl,” he muttered, pressing kisses into your neck as he ground his hips down into yours. You giggled into his mouth; the rest of the day spent tangled up in him.

The next few days after that were relaxing. He was always away first thing to train, but you weren’t going to complain when he came back stripping of his clothes, sweaty and flushed but always holding a coffee for you.

The rest of the day would be spent either flying out to walk around shops and see markets in other courts, or sometimes flying over mountains, safe and secure in Azriel’s arms. The day before he had prepared a picnic and taken you to a beautiful field, smiling as you pointed out different kinds of flowers, before he picked a gerbera daisy and pushing it behind your ear, then kissing you so hard you almost fell over.

You woke slightly when Azriel returned, his heart warming when he saw you dozing, engulfed in his scent. He put your coffee next to you and you muttered something inaudible to him, snuggling further into his pillow and smiling sleepily when he pressed a kiss to your head, eyes never opening. He sat by you for a minute and pushed the hair away from your face before deciding he was going to bring you breakfast.

He pressed another kiss to your head before standing, quickly replacing his sweaty clothes, and leaving the room, letting you sleep in. His mind so filled with thoughts of his pretty girl and the smile she would give him when she woke up that he didn’t notice that Cassian wasn’t in the kitchen at his usual time.

You on the other hand noticed it pretty quickly, waking suddenly when the door slammed open, a man’s voice that you didn’t recognise asking your absent lover a question.

The well-built man stopped suddenly when you sat up in bed, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as he tried to work out what to say.

“You’re not Azriel.” He stated, realising that the strange girl he saw was covered in his brothers’ scent. And was wearing his brothers’ clothes. And drinking coffee from his brothers’ mug.

“Yes I am.” You said on impulse, shaking your head at your own stupidity but relaxing when the man you presumed was Cassian relaxed.

“Who are you?” he asked, a smile breaking out on his face when he realised who you were.

“Umm I’m (y/n), Azriel’s girlfriend.” You sat up straighter, pulling the covers tighter over you as you realised you were half dressed.

Cassian’s eyes lit up and he ran to your side, sitting in front of you and cheering. “Tell me everything! How did you guys meet? What do you do? How long have you been together?” he bombarded you with questions and you laughed nervously, silently preying that Azriel would return soon.

“Uhh we’ve been together for about six months and I own a flower shop, that’s where we met,” you explained to him when the door flew open again, another tall, dark haired man running in with three women. You recognised your high lord and lady and blushed bright red as they stared at you, smiling so widely.

“We came as fast as we could.” Rhys explained, introducing himself, his wife and Amren and Morrigan. They all crowded you and you moved back slightly, feeling the panic rise in you as they all asked you a million questions.

They were all kind, but so excited that their friend had gotten a girlfriend they were acting slightly insane. You tried to answer their questions, but they were coming so fast that your breathing began to pick up slightly, insecurities rising as you realised that you had just woken up. Your hair was probably a mess, and you hadn’t even washed your face, and you were in an old t-shirt and probably smelt bad.

You looked up when Azriel walked in, his eyes widening at the sight of his entire family in your room.

“What are you guys doing?” he asked as his family turned to him instead, asking him a million questions, Cassian practically in tears that he hadn’t been told.

You jumped when you felt a hand on your arm, turning to see Feyre smiling at you, “I’m sorry if we freaked you out a bit,” she said and you went to deny but she continued, “it can be a but much I know I went through similar, except for me it wasn’t eight in the morning!” her voice raised at the end and Rhysand turned around sheepishly.

“You’re right, my deepest apologies,” he said, still unable to keep the smile off his face, “Come to ours for dinner this evening.”

You smiled at him, nodding as your knee bounced to get rid of the anxious energy, muttering goodbye as Feyre and Rhys dragged their family out the room.

“I love you!” Cassian called over his shoulder and you laughed, eyes filling with tears you were trying to hold back.

“Cauldron baby I’m so sorry, are you okay?” Azriel asked and you nodded at him laughing at yourself as you cried.

“I’m okay, really. They were all so nice.” You assured him as he put down the tray he was holding and wrapping his arms around you.

“Then why are you crying?” he asked, his hands gentle as they wiped the stray tears.

“I cry at everything, the other day I cried because someone said they liked my dress,” you laughed and he shook his head, laughing with you.

“You’re in touch with your emotions,” he reasoned,

“I’m a baby. A baby with no social skills that gets overwhelmed very easily,” His shoulders shook with laughter as he lay the two of you down, “I haven’t even had my coffee yet and that was so much social interaction.” You complained, wiping your eyes as you calmed down.

He smiled down at you, kissing your forehead gently, “Are you up for seeing them properly tonight?” he asked, holding you so gently.

“Yeah it’ll be nice,” you assured him, “plus I do think me, and Cassian have to discuss our shared love for you. I think we might start a fan club.”

Azriel laughed, “If you say so.”

“I really do by the way. Love you I mean. Like I love you so much it makes me stupid, when I’m bored I just think about you and things we could do, and it makes me so happy.” You raised yourself up to look down at him as you spoke, pressing a soft kiss to his lips as he smiled dopily up at you.

“I love you so ridiculously much too.” You sat up together, your back pressed against his chest as he passed you your coffee and the breakfast he had prepared the two of you.

The stress of tonight could come later, you were just content to spend the rest of your morning in his arms.

[1kook]

A COLLECTION  [ updated: 8 . 23 . 21 ]

— STATUS ONGOING — NO REPOSTS — ASKS under #ncouple ! — Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr

—NETFLIX & CHILL.

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.  warnings smut in the forms of grinding, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla unprotected sex, dirty talk misc use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc  word count 10.2k  posted june 12, 2020

—HULU & WOOHOO.

summary But there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Jersey Shore boner. warnings slight feelings of insecurity, smut in the forms of fingering, cunnilingus, cum eating, squirting, hand jobs, unprotected sex, riding, slight praise kink  misc if you’re not a Jersey shore fan honestly GET OUT, mentions of capitalism😡, more kind/understanding kook, basically a “what are we?” fic but silly, irresponsible emailing habits, its so dumb just read word count 6.3k posted july 4, 2020

—IMAX & CLIMAX.

summary The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings smut in the form of blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl (? kinda), daddy kink that morphs into ily kink misc  jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count 9.8k posted august 5, 2020

—KISSANIME & FOREPLAY.

summary You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans. warnings mentions of hentai, smut in the forms of cunnilingus, masturbation (f), oral (f), use of a sex toy, fingering, nipple play, face sitting/fucking/riding idk (f), praise kink, hints of dumbification, cum eating, jk is like passive aggressive in this one, 4 (f) orgasms, this is the kicker: sub kook at the end😳, like 2 sec of dom yn lol, & u get 0.002 sec of adams apple kink misc more dumb story lines, made up sex stores bc my creativity knows no bounds, Jungkook plays nice but is actually mean for the majority of it, once again doyeon plays a pivotal role in the furthering of women empowerment, internal love monologues about jk best boy<3 word count 8.2k posted september 1, 2020

—DISNEY+ & BUST.

summary There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door.   warnings arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of humiliation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment (? idk lol), unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, the return of mean jk, desperate jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf misc angst, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count 13k posted september 9, 2020

—ESPN & BDSM.

summary You would like to personally thank every loud-mouthed, ESPN commentator out there for saving you from Jungkook’s dangerous seduction skills.   warnings smut in the forms of brief femdom, handcuffs, nipple clamps, blindfolding, flogging/use of a riding crop, soft dom kook, cunnilingus, spitting, unprotected but passionate, degradation, as always it starts horny n then turns into I love u kink misc kook has a swollen ankle so idk how he did all this, jk abuses the fuck outta pet names part 7, revenge gone wrong tbh, this was honestly a beginner’s intro to vanilla bdsm word count 12.7k posted september 14, 2020

—YOUTUBE & USE LUBE.

summary You can’t believe this is Jungkook’s preferred sick day treatment; YouTube, cuddles, and an ugly amount of lube. warnings smut in the forms of nipple play, handjobs, spit kink, face riding, unprotected, flavored warming lube, riding, praise kink, soft femdom, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, tit sucking, tit fucking, more jk has an impreg kink, oh and this is all subby kook misc domesticity baby!! fluff, soft scenes /.\, jk is sick:((, doyeon is A Doctor, yn sees an opportunity and she grabs it, surprise ending <3 word count 8.7k   posted september 30, 2020

—VIKI & HICKEYS.

summary Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.   warnings a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries, jk is a good boy n I want him to be happy   misc there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide word count 16.3k posted january 14, 2021

—PEACOCK & SWEET TALK.

summary “I wanna watch Solange in Bring It On,” Jungkook smiles, and you have to wonder who exactly this blond man is and what he did with your teen-movie-hating boyfriend.   warnings smut in the forms of kissing, cunnilingus (eating out + fingering), light praise, a lil body worship, jk fat cawk, brief nipple play, playful jk, unprotected sex, riding and missionary, the jk hand kink, I love you kink, jk wants nudes, jk’s cheerleader fantasies mentioned, spit kink, light choking, jk has like a scent kink (?), mention of collars and pet play misc app developer jk becomes even MORE app developer-y, oc is anti-google, there's plot, a 2 year anniversary, Solange knowles appreciation, BLOND JK!!!, gets sappy for a sec, seahorse marriage mention, doyeon x joon side pairing, jk is disgustingly dreamy and oc is threatened by that fact word count 10.7k posted march 23, 2021

— CRUNCHYROLL & RAIL.

summary Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. warnings smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… misc fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality word count 8.7k posted may 21, 2021

—FUNIMATION & PROCREATION.

summary Never mind your upcoming wedding, this was perhaps the greatest moment of your life— the day Jungkook sought out an anime on his own. warnings kissing, smut in the forms of cunnilingus, cum eating, mentions of anal, doggy style, unprotected sex with the intention of pregnancy, spitting, hand holding<3 misc the wedding night, Doyeon strikes again, jjk watches  jjk, oh no not twins word count 9.1k posted july 31, 2021

—BOOMERANG AND BANG. 

coming soon

—COOKIES & CREAM.

summary Jungkook will watch a thousand cheesy Christmas movies if it meant making you happy. (And maybe having his dick sucked.) warnings smut in the form of blowjobs, face fucking, cum facials, fingering, overstim, double orgasm, r*mantic sex, riding, unprotected, cream pies, jk does this weird thing where he licks her face yeah idk, jk loves seeing his gf cry, jk has an obsession with jizz   misc jk pov !!, eggnog slander, jk hates xmas movies, oc dresses like a sexy mrs claus, Elf !!, jk is in loooove word count 7.1k posted december 23, 2020

— TUTUS & TIARAS.

summary your first pregnancy through the lens of your husband warnings smut in the forms of penetrative sex, sex while pregnant, unprotected sex, tit play, cunnilingus, mutual masturbation, sticking the tip in and jacking off/cockwarming?, creampies, nose kink (? like she grinds against his nose), infatuation with scent, frottage/grinding, lactation kink, titluvr jk [bass boosted] misc married ncouple <3, domesticity, jk pov, mood swings, pregnancy, GIRLDAD!JK, DILF!JK, pregnant!reader, jk’s kids are virgos its true  word count 10k posted august 23, 2021

— one.

summary Maybe Jungkook wasn’t always as cool and composed as you initially believed. But that’s okay, because you love him all the same.  word count 1.3k posted September 10, 2020

—two.

summary Even after all these years, all these doubts, and all this solitude that was really no one’s fault but his own, he still finds himself hoping that maybe you’ll be the one. word count 1k posted september 11, 2020

—three.

summary But Jungkook loves the sun. word count 1.5k posted september 12th, 2020

—four.

summary For the last ten minutes or so his mind has been bothered by one thing and one thing only— the hair that hung in his face. word count 800 words posted september 22, 2020

—five.

summary Startled and inexperienced, he can’t do anything but rub his hands over your back. “It’s fine, it’s fine,” he murmurs, even though it’s not. word count 1.3k posted september 22, 2020

—six.

SUMMARY Jungkook enjoyed pushing you down, indulging you in all your little fantasies, but he too had some he wanted to live out. WC 1.8k POSTED september 25, 2020

—seven.

summary And lastly, Jungkook will bring it full circle by indulging you two in some good old fashion spooky sex where he nuts inside you because the only thing scarier than a scary movie is a pregnancy scare. It’s a perfect plan. word count 2k posted october 30, 2020

—eight.

summary You always do this— always ask for more. You take and you take until there’s nothing left for Jungkook to give. But Jungkook is the same.   word count 1.9k posted december 28, 2020

—nine.

summary “I think that, like— me and you? We’re like, totally destined,” you ramble, “you should, like, take my number! And maybe we can, like— Netflix and chill one of these days?” word count 2.2k posted january 8 2021

—ten.

summary See, there’s no one in this world who ignores his house rules more than you. Even worse, there’s no one on this planet who can make Jungkook ignore his own rules like you do. word count 1.4k posted february 14, 2021

—eleven.

summary You’re too bright, too… there. His shell is too small. word count 1.2k posted may 3, 2021

—twelve.

summary Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee. word count 1.4k posted may 8th, 2021

—thirteen.

summary Because for as much shit as you let him get away with, Jungkook is certain you’ll draw the line today.   word count 1k posted june 13, 2021

—fourteen.

summary Jungkook needs you to know that you can always count on him. word count 1.3k posted july 6, 2021

—fifteen.

summary It’s Jungkook’s teenage fantasy— being pushed down by a cheerleader. word count 3.1k posted august 9, 2021

— sixteen.

summary Your skin is warm and smells like sunshine. Jungkook can’t really explain it. (And also like the sunscreen you had doused him in earlier, but that isn’t as romantic.) word count 1.9K posted august 11, 2021

—seventeen.

summary She looks his way and suddenly Jungkook is nineteen again, in his dorm, listening to the first person he ever thought he loved telling him he’s too much to handle. word count 1.6k posted august 18, 2021

beautiful banners made for series!

cute and cozy gif by the lovely @ladyartemesia​ 

LASTLY: 

[bukojuiice]

ʚ Going to Universal Studios Japan with them (ft. Izuku, Katsuki, Shoto, Denki, Eijirou, Shinsou and Dabi) ɞ *‧.₊˚*੭

—  @bukojuiice’s 720+ followers gift! thank you so so much for supporting my works!  ♡ ily all i never would have thought i would reach this milestone 🥺

—  uni student! izuku, katsuki, shoto, eijirou, denki, shinsou and evil turned good! dabi x reader headcanons ♡

 — To further elaborate, this is a Dabi that turned Good for his bby bro because I know that this is physically impossible in the manga and i found it hard to play around with a cute and fluffy set of hcs within a villain context. so pls let me have a good Dabi just this one time qwq

— if you like to see more from me, i have an ongoing bakugo x fem reader! smau called cuddle buddy! read it here!  for my bnha masterlist check it out here!  ♡

— please reblog, reply and leave like if you enjoyed! it means a lot! c:

—  all universal studios japan photos are taken by me. Most of these headcanons are also based on my experience in Universal Studios Japan!  (๑•͈ᴗ•͈)

—  content warning: slight innuendo/sexual content, strong language and mention of Endeavor

— summary: You spend a wonderful day in one of the most happiest places on earth with your just as wonderful significant other. 

—  You and Izuku stroll through Hogsmeade of the newly opened Hogwarts area of the Park. Your hand in his and your arms interlocked.

—  Izuku would geek out. As in geek out. He very much loved Harry Potter growing up and being able to go to USJ was a dream come true.

—  “It’s LeviOSA not LeviOSAR.” You continue to make Harry Potter jokes and Izuku was loving every minute of it. He could not stop laughing.

— You loved seeing his laugh as it made your heart feel all fluffy inside. God. why must this boy be so cute?

—  Izuku is just as big of a Potterhead as you. The two of you took the Hogwarts House test online and Izuku was sorted into Gryffindor whilst you were sorted into Slytherin. Two complete opposites yet you guys were the most adorkable couple ever. 

— Even the amusement park goers (the couples in particular) couldn’t help but turn their eyes to the two of you. 

—  The two of you are wearing matching Hogwarts robes, earning compliments from the staff giggling about how cute the two of you are! 

— YOU GUYS WERE MOST PROBABLY THE CUTEST COUPLE IN THE AMUSEMENT PARK!?? 

— LIKE YES TWO SOFT CUTIES AND IN HOGWARTS ROBES OF ALL MATCHING OUTFITS THEY COULD HAVE WORN?? COUPLE GOALS

—  You were originally going to hang out with the entire Dekusquad but ofc your friends just decided to play matchmaker and instead collectively backed out and said they were busy bc of uni (obvs a lie)

—  You wonder why they would play matchmaker when the you and Izuku were already together in the first place and they know that very well HSKHSHSKHS 

—  anyways ochaco, tsuyu, shoto and tenya are very supportive wbk

—  Izuku just wanted this day to be very special and to be between the two of you only. 

—  “Izu-kun! Let’s try out the Butterbeer and see if it tastes just as good as the books and movies make them to be!” You point to a food stall that sells the famous beverage seen in the series, with both alcoholic and non-alcoholic kinds.

—  “Of course (Y/N)!-chan Anything for you!” He says sweetly and gingerly hands the money to the food vendor. 

— For fun and because why the hecc not, you decided to order the alcoholic variant of the drink whilst Izuku had purchased the non-alcoholic one.

—  In turn, you ended up becoming a little bit tipsy as the two of you enter the Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey ride.

—  Izuku stares in awe as the waiting line makes you go through the interior of Hogwarts Castle. Both you and Izuku couldn’t help but just stare in amazement. 

—  You smile at the sight of your cute freckled boyfriend admiring the view and the area before him. It was as if he was transported into the actual world of Harry Potter and you couldn’t help but feel the overwhelming emotions he was feeling right now. 

—  The two of you hold hands during the entire attraction as both of you are seated in a 3-seater ride. T’was cute uwu

—  Albeit the fact that you were a little bit tipsy, the entire 4-D ride was magnificent as it literally took you through every adventure Harry Potter and the rest of the cast had experienced. 

— It was probably one of the best rides you’ve been to tbh??

— “The Dementors were so creeeeeeepy.” Izuku shuddered, rubbing his arm. “”They looked so real!” He turns to you, wonder and amazement plastered all over his face.

—  “THE WORST THING ABOUT PRISON WAS THE DEMENTORSSSS.” You howled, your voice practically echoing around the exit area. 

—  “IZUkU!!! I LOAF YOUUUUUUU SOW MUCHHHHHIE.”

—  Midoriya knew that you got a bit tipsy due to the butterbeer, as soon as he had noticed the body language you were showing, he supports your weight by holding you tightky and then slowly take you to the cafe near the entrance that served hot coffee.

—  Thankfully, you were able to sober up so that the two of you could go around the rest of the park before the Night show took place in Hogwarts Castle. 

—  “You know, I’m so lucky to have you (Y/N)-chan. Just like how lucky Ron is to have Hermione.” He plants a kiss on your forehead, he firmly holds you as the evening light show of Hogwarts Castle begins. 

—  “You’re overreacting Izu-kun. I’m not as smart as Hermione.” You shake your head, trying to avoid eye contact as he just made another cheesy Harry Potter Joke. “More like I’m the Ron to your Hermione. I mess up sometimes yet you’re always there for me to help me up when I’m down.” 

—  “Then I guess we don’t have to compare ourselves to Ron and Hermione then. Because I wouldn’t have a life like this with you any other way. I love you (Y/N)-chan.”

—  “I love you too Izu-kun.” 

—  An array of colorful fireworks pop in the sky and the both of you look deep into each other’s eyes, holding each other tightly til the festivities end.

— The two of you arrived at Universal Studios Japan earlier than most people. Bakugo always wanted to be first in line even though the two of you had fast passes to specific rides. He just rolls like that.

—  You forced him to wear matching matching elmo and cookie monster headbands with you. You were wearing the Elmo one and he was wearing the Cookie monster design.

  —  He’d spoil you soooooooo bad like he’d be grumpy at first and refuse to buy you this cute little souvenir item you’d probably never use, but he’d still spoil the heck out of you. Just as long as it was mildly reasonable.

—  He was all for thrill rides. As long as he got to show off how bad-ass and brave he is to you. That was until you discovered one of the Jurassic Park rides in the park and HOO BOY...

  —  You were internally squealing at the sight of him wearing the cookie monster that your brain just?? kinda stopped?? You secretly take a pic of your explosive boyfie and then change his contact name to Cookie Monster.

—  You first enter the Jurassic Park area at the insistence of Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina and Sero whomst you were supposedly going to meet after 2 hours

— As you roam around, there’s awkward silence between the two of you until you begin to obnoxiously sing the theme song of the series to try and annoy Bakugo, “TENENENEN TENENENENEN TENENENEN”

—‘’(Y/N) Geez, could you stop singing that stupid song? It fucking annoys me.’’

—‘’No way we’re riding that shitty fucking water ride. I will not get wet today.”

— “Oh really? What if you get wet in different ways?”

—He smirks at you, taking your hand and rubbing your thumb, “Let’s see when we get home.’’

— “OH WAIT BUT FIRST LET’S SHARE A TURKEY LEG!’’ You point to a nearby food stall, selling turkey legs for 980 yen. 

— Katsuki begrudgingly follows you to the stall and buys a turkey leg for the two of you to share. 

—You were deep in thought. Fantasizing if you could eat the Turkey Leg with Katsuki “Lady and Tramp” style. 

— Much to your dismay, Katsuki had finished the Turkey Leg before you could get another bite. You pout and cross your arms, yet he doesn’t notice you silently shooting daggers at him.

— You then quickly forget about the Turkey Leg as soon as the Flying Dinosaur attraction hovered above you. The amusing screams of the people riding it could be heard as it passed at a speed you could have never imagined.

—  ‘’Suki-kun!! Let’s ride that next!’’

— ‘’We just ATE. Are you fucking serious right now?’’

—  ‘’Or are you too chicken?’’ You tease him playfully. ‘’Hmm… Looks like eating the entire turkey leg turned you into a chicken now didn’t it?’’

—  ‘’Fine. Fuck this.’’ He tilts his head, gesturing you to follow suit. ‘’Let’s get into the fast pass line.’’

— You get on the ride and see up close the details of the dinosaur as it’s positioned upright for you two to get on. You take your seats and are instructed to strap yourselves in the seat. 

— You get a wonderful view of the sea as the ride continues to ascend, going up and down, at high speeds. You begin to scream your heart out, the adrenaline rushing through you. Bakugo tries to put up a face, not wanting to scream and show any weakness. You look at him again as the ride arrives at a downwards slope, creating a momentum before it descends again at high speed.

— The ride begins to move, positioning itself like a pterodactyl would. You take Bakugo’s hand and give it a tight squeeze. You look at him for comfort and he nods at you lovingly. You were at ease albeit the fact that the two of you are about to experience one of the most terrifying amusement park rides ever.

The two of you are then positioned to be dangling in mid-air, the safety strap from a while ago being the only thing holding you in place. 

—  ‘’(Y/N)! I LOVE YOU!’’ He screams his lungs out as the ride passes through the ocean again, giving you a clear view of the sea surrounding the wonderful prefecture of Osaka.

—  You smile cheekily and begin to scream from the top of your lungs too. ‘’I LOVE YOU TOO KATSUKI!’’

—  ‘’Did you really mean that I love you?’’ You ask him. Your adrenaline is still pumping you up.

— ‘’Of course I did you nerd. I had to get it out of my chest.’’ He says, avoiding eye contact, scratching the back of his neck.

—  The ride then ends abruptly and you could never feel more grateful. You could practically kiss the floor as your legs shaked once you got off. Katsuki supports you with his arm around yours and the two of you get off the ride.

—  ‘’I want to hear you say that again.’’ You poke his cheek but he doesn’t move an inch.

—  ‘’Come on. We have to go look for Kirishima in the others.’’

—  ‘’One more time Suki-kun! Please?’’ You look at him with your most dramatic puppy eyes and he couldn’t help but give in.

—  ‘’Fine.’’ He says grumpily. ‘’I love you.’’

—  ‘’I love you too. Let’s never ride that again.’’

— ‘’Agreed.’’

— Shoto made sure that he would make the most of the time with you before the two of you go back to University. Booking the most luxurious hotel available, fine dining every single night you were in Osaka and going on private local tours and taking high-end trips to Nara and Kyoto.  

— He’s spoiling you so so so bad and as much as you didn’t want Shoto to spend too much, he kept on insisting. 

— This is also why he decided your trip near your birthday so that in a sense, this is his birthday surprise for you too!

— He wanted to go all out just for you. 

— You feel like you’re in Cloud 9 every time you’re with Shoto. How much more when you’re going on an extra special trip with him? 

— “This Eren Jeager’s voice sounds familiar. It’s as if we have the same voice.” Todoroki looks at the screen perplexed, putting on the 4-D Glasses and making sure you were already comfortable on your seat.

— ‘’I know right. You’re hotter of course.’’ You whisper, giving him a peck on the cheek.

— Attack on Titan is your all time favorite anime ever.

— Shoto wasn’t too well-versed in anime, so him bringing you to USJ is one of the best things he could ever do for you.

— Especially since the park had a limited time Attack on Titan 4-D Attraction!!

— YOU KNEW you had to go there and it was also a perfect opportunity for you to bond with Shoto

— As long as you were happy and he could support you with your interests, he was happy too.

— Being able to go on the Attack on Titan 4D Ride was a dream come true.

— You brought Shoto to the souvenir shop first and bought matching headbands for the two of you.

— You were wearing a headband that had two little chibi Levis on each side whilst Shoto had little chibi Erens on his uwu

— He’d be spoiling you so so much !!! Any souvenir item you’d set your eyes on, he’d immediately buy it for you!! 

— Before you can even say no, he’s already bought it using his luxurious black credit card. YOUR BOYFIE WAS RICH OFC I MEAN WHAT WOULD YOU EXPECT!?

—  "That was amazing." Todoroki says in awe, still trying to process the thrill he had just experienced. "I wonder what would happen if titans started appearing all of a sudden?"

—  "Let's say a smol titan appears right now. I wonder if you could pierce it with your ice?" You tilt your head, beginning to think about unrealistic scenarios. "Anywhooo, shall we go to the next ride on our list? It's called Hollywood Dream!"

—  "Let's gooooo~" He hums monotonously, earning giggles from you. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as you walk side by side. 

— “Okay... so there are two variants to this ride. There’s one that goes in reverse and the other one goes so high up that we have an overview of the whole park.” You go through a brochure that you picked up at the entrance.

 — “Whichever one you’re more comfortable with (Y/N).” 

—  “Let’s go on the one where we can see our hotel because of how high it is!”

—  “OKAY NVM THIS WAS A BAD IDEA.” You say as the rollercoaster begins to reach it’s momentum, the ride going higher and higher.  Until you can see your hotel and every recognizable landmark from afar. 

—  Shoto then clasps your hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “It’s okay (Y/N). I’m right here. Just hold my hand okay?” 

—  You nod slowly, taking a deep breath. You close your eyes and feel a fell swoop on your stomach as the wind passes through your face.

—  Justin Timberlake’s Can’t Stop the Feeling begins to play as the rollercoaster begins to descend from roaring heights. They purposefully attached speakers to the ride so that the park goers would feel hyped up and excited instead of being terrified of how high up they are. 

—  Shoto’s hands are still intertwined with yours. You weren’t letting go. 

—  The screams of everyone else in the ride grows louder and louder and you can’t help but sing to the song instead.

—  “I GET THIS FEELINGGG INSIDE MY BONES! IT GOES ELECTRIC, WAVEY WHEN I TURN IT ONN.” You began to sing, raising your arms up high as you slowly begin to enjoy the ride. 

—  Shoto who was sitting on the end yet is still able to keep his calm composure, turns to you, and a small smile flashes on his face when he sees you channel your nervousness through singing. 

—  He begin to sing along with you too! AAAHHH WHAT A CUTIE

—  “All through my city, all through my home, We're flying up, no ceiling, when we in our zone.” He continues. You look at him and ease up a little bit once you see his handsome face and comfortable presence beside you.

— And before you knew it, the ride came to a stop. It was finally over. You take a deep breath and Shoto helps you out of your seat.

— “I got that sunshine in my pocket! Got that good song in my feet. I feel that hot blood in my body when it drops!” You and Shoto begin to duet to the pop and colorful song. You begin to fully enjoy the ride, barely even noticing the ride making sharp and fast turns as it continues to go up and down. 

— “I might have hated it at first but that was exhilarating.” 

— “I knew you could do it.” He says proudly, planting a kiss on your forehead. “You are the bravest person I know after all.” 

— “I wouldn’t have overcome my fears if it weren’t for you though.” You scrunch your nose, and hold on to Shoto’s arm. Your heart still beating so fast. “Thank you for being my safe space Shoto. I’m always at peace whenever I’m with you. Thank you for always being my comfort person.”

— “Of course (Y/N). Why wouldn’t I be?” He tilts his head, clueless. “Are you game enough to ride the reversed one this time?”

— “Of course I am!” 

— He chuckles, “That’s my love. If you feel like you can’t do it, Just know that I’m always here to support you.” 

— The first attractions on your list were the water rides. More specifically the Jurassic Park Water Ride and the JAWS ride. 

— You and Kirishima would try every ride in the park if you could. He loved to try and experience new things especially if he’s able to do them with you!

— Kiri is a very very fun person and would always be game with anything tbh!!

— You’re wearing matching dinosaur hats with Kirishima!!

— ‘’RAWR!’’ You make cutesy dinosaur gestures at your boyfriend, jumping around in your place. ‘’Can you believe we’re finally here in USJ!?’’ He blushes profusely, pecking your cheek. 

—  ‘’I can’t believe it too.’’ He chuckles then pauses for a moment before...

— ‘’RAWR!’’ He says back, his hands forming into claws, his cute mouth open wide and his sharp shark teeth very much visible. You giggle at his returned gesture, finding it more cuter than you should.

— ‘’(Y/N) you’re adorable! You know that right?’’ He laughs and continues to hold you tightly.

— ‘’Pshh of course I do! I have an equally adorable boyfriend too!’’ You look up at him, beaming.

— The two of you then jump in your place in unison, both mimicking each other’s cute ‘’RAWR!’’ and hand gestures as Kirishima pulls you into a hug.

— ‘’Don’t forget manly!’’ He winks and grabs your hand, taking you to the Jurassic Park Water ride.

— “I actually find it smart that we go on the water rides first so that we can just change clothes immediately after. Good thinkening Kiri!” You remark, patting him on the head.

— THINKENING??? THINKENING??? Eijirou could not think straight right now because of how cute you are

— ANYWAY HE WASNT GOING TO LOOK OR ANYTHING KIRISHIMA IS A GENTLEMAN HE IS NOT A BAD BOI WHO WILL GIVE IN TO TEMPATION!!

— You looked so excited to go on the rides and he couldn’t be happier seeing you like this 

— IT ALSO DIDNT HELP THAT YOU WERE WEARING A WHITE SHIRT SO IF YOU DID GET WET THEN 👁👄👁

— The ride begins and the all too familiar theme song of the series begins to play as the gates to the Jurassic Park opens as the water ride begins to move

— Although the ride was very predictable, and you knew the surprise at the end was the T-rex trying to jumpscare you as the ride falls down a high incline, splashing all of the people on the ride. 

— Kirishima still looked like he had lots of fun. 

— He turns to you, a huge cheeky smile plastered upon his face as he tries to dry his clothes. “That was fun!” 

— The ride may seem calm at first, but then the T-Rex begins to secretly appear around the forest-ish area surrounding the water ride. 

— “It was!” You smiled back. You look down on your shirt innocently. “I didn’t expect that I’d get this wet so I thought wearing a white shirt would be-”

— “LET’S BUY YOU A JURASSIC PARK SHIRT IN THE SOUVENIR SHOP OKAY!? SO THAT YOU WON’T WASTE YOUR OTHER CLOTHES AND YOU CAN CHANGE IN THEM FOR THE JAWS RIDE INSTEAD.” Eijirou stands up so suddenly from the boat. He takes you by the hand without shooting you another glance as not to show how flustered he was. 

— “Okay then...” You reply, as Kirishima whisks you away, leading you to the souvenir shop just outside of the attraction.

— Kirishima breathes a sigh of relief as he sees you exit the comfort room. 

— He calls you over, “(Y/N)! While you were changing your clothes, I went back to the souvenir shop and realized that they were actually couple shirts!

— We are so Adora-saurable! was written on both of your shirts along wtih a cute dinosaur couple print on them.

— “Funny how you were able to find a Dinosaur pun on the word adorable! What a coincidence!” You giggle, poking Kirishima’s cheek. “I think we had enough of dinosaurs for now. Shall we check out the other rides?”

— “Right beside ya!” Kiri flashes you his signature smile, taking your hand in his again, swinging it back and forth as the two of you continue to your next destination. 

— The way you scolded him was more in a joking way though!!

— You guys arrive a bit late because Kaminari ended up sleeping through his alarm 🙃

— When the two of you met up at the entrance you scolded him so bad because you practically lost two hours and HNGGGGG

— All he could do was hug you tightly from behind and say “gomen!” “gomen!” over and over again

— you were loving every second of it!!!! denki was being super cute and you couldn’t help but just go uwu

— BUT THEN YOU SCOLDING HIM  DIDN’T REALLY MATTER BC YOU GUYS HAD FAST PASSES

— YOU DO BE FLEXING YOUR FAST PASSES THO

— THE TWO OF YOU FELT LIKE RICH KIDS FLEXING YOUR GUCCI FLIPFLOPS WHEN IN FACT YOU WERE FLEXING YOUR FAST PASSES

— OK SO you and Kaminari decided to go to the Despicable Me/Minions area first not just for the memes but also because it was the most popular attraction this season.

— You also wanted to get on the rides there first since it takes 2 hours before you can even get in

— YOU HAVE MATCHING MINION POPCORN BUCKETS WITH HIMM!!

— The design of yours was a cute little minion holding a teddy bear whilst his was a special Christmas reindeer edition.

—  “(Y/N)-chan! Look at the line! Should we line up and take a picture with the Minions!?” He points to a meet and greet line for the yellow mascots

—  You weren’t exactly the biggest fan of these abominations but facebook mom memes aside, Denki looked super super excited and you didn’t want to ruin a great start to a perfect day so you just went with it.

—  The staff attendants thought Kaminari looked super excited like cute little sparky puppy seeing the minions so they gave you cute minion button pins!!

— The Despical Me Area pretty much played Happy by Pharell Williams non-stop as people stroll around so you and Denki couldn’t help but dance along to it.

—  It didn’t matter if people looked at the two of you weirdly either!! Just being with denki and being chaotic with him is one of the best feelings ever and he feels the same way too

— You guys did all kinds of funky dances til the two of you got exhausted and decided to try out the other rides. 

— There were also carnival game stands and Kaminari ended up winning you the exact same unicorn stuff toy seen in the Despical Me movies.

— Cotton Candy, Gumballs, Skittes, anything remotely sweet being sold on the stalls, you tried all of them.

— “IT’S SO FLUFFFFFY!!!” You imitate one of the cute characters from the movie, hugging the stuffed toy to your chest. “Thank you Kami-kun! I will cherish this forever!”

— Kaminari grins widely, “I know you aren’t too fond of the Minions but thank you for still going with me to this area first.” You can see the emotion and the appreciation in his eyes. 

— “OMG DENKI OFC! WHY WOULD I NOT ENJOY THIS!?” You say incredulously. “I had such an amazing time! Minions and their annoying voices aside. I always have the best time when I’m with you!”

— Crocodile tears start to form on Denki’s eyes as he pulls you into a hug. “AAAAAAAHH (Y/N)-CHAN I LOVE YOUUUUUUUUU. THANK YOU FOR BEARING WITH ME. I’M DOING THIS FOR THE MEMES.” 

— You giggle, patting Kaminari on the back. “It’s alright alright. I love you too! But this time you have to compensate by going on a horror ride with me okay?”

— “Ahahahahahaha what?”

— Endeavor had sponsored your trip and all expenses to ~try~ and start to mend his broken relationship with his son, although you refused at first, Toya did not. When he went to visit his mother and Enji was there to visit too, He got the money from him, ignored him, and flipped him off (aka gave him the bad finger) before leaving.

His three other siblings were in on this trip too. However, Toya wanted your trip to Universal Studios Japan between the two of you ONLY. His siblings went on a different day.

— He wasn’t the biggest fan of matching outfits or any accessories with you like any couple would and you didn’t want to pry on that. He really wasn’t the type of person to do that to begin with.

— And although on the inside he does feel a bit sorry about not being able to be cutesy with you it just really wasn’t his thing. 

The two of you would most probably make out in a secluded area in the Hogsmeade area that is barely noticed by any other park goers. How daring and how secsy

 ‘’Seriously? Snoopy and Hello Kitty? THIS is the area you want to go in first?’’

—‘’Come on! It’s not everyday you get to loosen up like this. Why not try out the kiddie rides first? Besides, I want to see how long you can last without taking the cuteness anymore.”

— The staff sees you enter the Snoopy and Woodstock ride and couldn’t help but ask a very imprudent question. “The two of you look like such a cute couple! I bet your child is just as precious!”

—“Excuse me… what?” You ask, your eyes widen. “We’re not-”

—“The kid is on it’s way. We’ll have one soon once we return here.” Toya says casually, sending you a flirtatious wink and you feel flushed and slightly embarrassed.

—“Jeeeeeeeeeez. Did you really have to say that?” You try to avoid contact with him so he wouldn’t see the embarrassment or rather the arousal present all over your face.

—“What? It’s true.” He smirks, taking your hand. “Do you not want anything to happen between us?” He teases again.

—“NO NO NO NO ITS NOT THAT.” You yelp in embarrassment, your eyes still cast down on the ground.

—You notice him kneeling down and before you could even react, instead of facing the ground, you were staring down at your boyfriend’s handsome face instead. 

—“Come on… I thought we were going to the Hello Kitty ride next?

— “Oh yeah right! That ahahaha let’s go!” You look up again before he could see your face looking like a tomato.

— You couldn’t help but be flustered by his words time and time again. This time though there was no point in hiding it. He got to you.

— He grabs you by the waist, and whispers into your ear, “Besides, I’m saving matching outfits with you once we bring our child here in the future. We would be the cutest fucking family out there.”

— You’ve already been dating for a year?? and your heart still flutters every time?? anything remotely romantic comes out of his mouth???

— HE WAS SUCH  FLIRT OH LORD AND YOU JUST SWOON AND FALL FOR HIM EVEN MORE 

— The other couples for some reason never thought of going on the cutesy rides, so as soon as they saw you and Toya going on them, the line for most of the rides got even longer.

— Toya might be lowkey an edgelord  but you guys became trendsetters in a span of an hour!! 

— OK BUT SPEAKING OF EDGELORD... DABI AS AN E-BOY HURRRRRRRRR YOU MAY OR MAY NOT BE MANIFESTING YOUR BOYFRIEND TO SUDDENLY BE IN E-BOY CLOTHES ON THE SPOT TOTALLY NOT NOPE NOPE NOPE NEVER 

— He still looked hot just wearing a plain dark hoodie but you still couldn’t get the thought of Toya wearing those fits out of your head.

— “Earth to (Y/N)? You’re spacing out again.” He waves a hand in front of your face and you snap back to reality. “We’ve rode every attraction here. I think we should go check out the other rides? The Jaws one next please. I can’t stand all this cute sparkly cuteness anymore.”

—  “AHAH! YOU FINALLY SNAPPED!” You laugh, acting as if you finally got back at Toya for making you such a blushing and stuttering mess just a few minutes ago. Dabi shrugs it off however. 

— “OKIE! Now that I got out of my system, let’s continue to go around shall we?” You huff and pace off to the next ride that you wanted to go on.

— Toya shakes his head and smirks, following you to wherever you were going to take him next. That didn’t stop him from teasing you every few minutes though.

— The two of you did come back to USJ, but only a few days later to accompany Shoto since Fuyumi and Natsuo had to take the train home due to having to attend important matters.

— The same park attendant who complimented you and Dabi was managing the Snoopy ride again. She recognizes the two of you instantly and waves. “Oooh! I didn’t think the two of you would come back again so early! Is this the cute child you were talking about?”

— You and Toya collectively facepalm whilst Shoto looks at the staff with a very puzzled look.

— Hopefully, the next time you come back, you finally have a happy family with Toya and you can finally show off to that sassy ol’ attendant that you have a cute little kid with you to go on rides with.

—This is officially your 7th date with Shinsou. 

— Although the two of you are already official, you can’t help but feel and notice how cold and distant he is to you still. As if he hasn’t exactly opened up to you.

—  And you didn’t want to end this day without seeing him loosen up and open his shell.

 —  You wanted a relationship with Shinsou in where the two of you could talk to each other about your own problems and help each other out. 

— That was the ideal relationship after all, and you knew for a fact that you could have something special like this with Shinsou. 

—  He did confess to you through a love poem and if that isn’t the most romantic thing ever, then I don’t know what is. 

—  You wanted to be his comfort person after all. Just as he is with you although I think he doesn’t know that yet exactly. 

—  “SOU-KUNNNN you know what else we can do?” 

—  “...What?”

—  “Let’s go on all the boring rides!!” You take his hand and start running to the next attraction. 

—  “T-that’s not actually a bad idea. Let’s go.” He mutters, albeit shy at the touch of your hands at first, he grows comfortable after a few minutes with your hand intertwined with his. 

—  SHINSOU IS SO TOUCH-STARVED AND YOU CAN’T WAIT TIL YOU GIVE HIM ALL THE HUGS AND KITHES IMAGINABLE LATER THAT NIGHT

— It was the middle of the afternoon and the park was less busier than usual, which meant all the time for you and Shinsou to try out every exhilarating ride the park had to offer. 

—  The only ones left were more performance-based attractions where you would be watching a live musical or play. One of those being a Terminator based ride. 

—  The concept of a Terminator live-action retelling was pretty cool but certainly not you or Shinsou’s cup of tea either. However, it was your goal with him to try out every ride in the park. So, eh why not?

—  The two of you sit in the front seat, making Shinsou within range of the stage actors to be affected by his quirk. 

—  “Don’t try to make them do anything bad okay?” You whisper to him. “This live show does look boring and really needs to liven up a little.

—  “I won’t do that of course. Let’s just make this show more entertaining.” 

— He then uses his quirk on the stage actors, making them do fun and entertaining dances. 

— The audience burst out into laughter as Shinsou had unintentionally made a twist to the musical playing before you. 

— “Of course not! You made that Terminator Musical much better! I bet they took notes and try to switch up the acting and the cheesiness for the next show!” 

— “Hopefully they will. Because the show was boring as hell.” He deadpans, putting his hands in his pockets. 

— Everyone in the theatre left in good spirits. 

— He stops in his tracks and looks at you. How lucky he was to have someone like you in his life.

— “Thank you for today too (Y/N). I really enjoy spending time with you like this.” He looks away, yet fails to hide his flustered face. 

— “You’re welcome!” You lean in and tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. 

—  Despite how cold and straightforward he may be sometimes, you never complained. You accepted him for who he was and who he is. 

— The two of you take the train ride home in peace and solace knowing that slowly but surely, Shinsou becomes more and more comfortable with you and you can’t wait for the time he finally opens up and bears his heart to you. 

Thank you for reading ♡

-Fin 

[amythedvdhoarder]

Storm in a Teacup

Pairing: Bucky x Divorced Reader

Word Count: ~2K

Warnings: Fluff, a monster of an ex-mother-in-law

Summary: You’re on your first date after your divorce. Who should you run into? Your ex-mother-in-law.

A/N: This comes from a request sent in by a lovely nonnie, who wanted a fic based around a divorced reader who runs into her ex-mother-in-law whilst on a date with Bucky. Before that point, Bucky didn’t know about her divorce. Embarrassment ensues and Bucky has to make up his mind about what to do next. I hope I have done your idea justice. Sorry it took me so long.

Thank you to the wonderful @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ for beta reading for me. Ily hun 😘

It had taken a long time for you to get to this position, to feel comfortable enough to be dating again. But you had been separated from your now ex-husband for two and a half years, your divorce finalised 6 months ago. It was time to try and have some semblance of a life. You felt guilty about not revealing your divorce to Bucky, but when you moved to New York you really wanted a fresh start, so you didn’t tell anyone about your past. Of course, if there came a time when Bucky needed to know then you would tell him, but this was just a coffee.

Bucky and you had begun talking a few months ago. It started when he was dropping off mission reports with small smiles, progressing to hello’s and then to you making him coffee whenever he stopped by during your lunch break, which he always seemed to arrive in time for. He had realised quickly that you weren’t a New York native, so traded your museum recommendations for tv, film and music recommendations. Each time you met you discussed your latest weekend museum trip and he told you his thoughts on the latest thing he had watched or listened to.

It was clear that you two had a connection. Your co-workers had even commented on how well you and the notoriously silent super-soldier seemed to get along. They were surprised that you hadn’t been on a date already. But you had reservations; perhaps it was too soon. Plus, there was no way Bucky would be interested in you. He was just polite and maybe enjoyed having someone who wasn’t a superhero to talk to. It was a shock when he asked you out for coffee the next time you saw him. You were even more shocked that you had agreed without any hesitation.  

You were nervous. In fact, nervous was an understatement. Sick to your stomach was a more accurate description. It wasn’t the fact that it was a date with Bucky Barnes, it was the fact it was a date. Your first, first date in nearly 10 years.  

Bucky was leaning against a lamppost, outside your apartment waiting for you. When you saw him you felt yourself instantly relax. He gave you his signature lopsided grin that you had come to crave and ambled over to you.

“You look great,” he said as he stood back and admired you.

“Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself for an old man,” you teased. That was the understatement of the century. He looked like a model in his dark wash jeans, dark blue henley layered over a black t-shirt and a leather jacket in his hand.

He shook his head and chuckled to himself. “Theoretically we’re about the same age you know.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Hmmm well I don’t know about that, but we better get going otherwise we’ll be out past your bedtime.”

“What happened to respecting your elders?” Bucky winked.

“Maybe elders that don’t act like teenage boys, but you and Sam are like high-school kids.”

Bucky looked confused for a second and then remembered that you had caught him and Sam hiding Steve’s shield under your desk the other week.

Bucky threw his hands up in surrender. “Alright, you win.”

The coffee shop was only a couple of streets away, on a corner opposite one of your favourite parks. Bucky and you ordered together and found a table near the window.

Both of you were chatting away about an art gallery you had visited the day before when you were suddenly interrupted.

“You,” that was a voice you would recognise anywhere, a voice which still haunted you. One of constant criticism, one that drove a wedge between you and the person you thought you would spend the rest of your life with.

“Hello Eliza,” you said through a forced smile.

Bucky stood and politely offered his hand to Eliza, but she ignored it leaving Bucky to sit down awkwardly.

“What brings you to New York?” you asked curtly.

“Well Leon and I are visiting my sister,” you balked, glancing quickly around the room, checking for any sign of him.

“He’s not here so you can stop looking. My son had a lucky escape by all accounts,” she sent a sneering look towards Bucky and then back to you. “Barely divorced and already moving on. I always suspected you were a whore; this just confirms it.”

Tears sprang to your eyes; she was publicly humiliating you. Calling you out for being a whore, when you had done nothing but be faithful to her son throughout your marriage and in fact whilst going through the long and bitter divorce. It was her son who couldn’t keep it in his pants. Anger took over and just as you were about to respond Bucky stood up and moved in front of you.

“Sorry I don’t know who you are, but you have no right to speak to anyone like that,” his voice low and urgent, his metal hand clenching and unclenching quickly by his side.

Eliza smirked, eyes flicking up and down at the man standing in front of her. “Ah I recognise you off the news, you two make the perfect match. Both damaged goods that no normal person could want.”

You stood up and went to stand by Bucky’s side, gently taking his arm in your hands. “That’s enough Eliza, we aren’t family anymore, you have made it evidently clear you want nothing to do with me. The feeling is very much mutual. We have nothing more to say to each other so goodbye.”

She let out a little exclamation of shock, but she quickly recovered her sharp exterior. Without saying another word, she just turned on her heels and left the coffee shop.

Bucky gently led you back to your seat, ignoring the people staring at both of you. You looked like you were in shock.

“Hey…” his thumb caught the tears that had begun to roll down your cheeks, “she’s not worth your tears.”

This seemed to finally snap you out of your daze. You look at Bucky and everything just seemed so overwhelming. He was being too kind. Eliza had been right, you were damaged, Bucky deserved more than you, someone who could at least be honest about themselves.

‘I’m sorry Bucky…” you grabbed your bag and tore yourself away from him, running out the café and onto the busy street.

He didn’t follow you immediately like he wanted to, he knew you needed some space. Bucky didn’t know you well but wanted to, he was going to be there for you if you let him. Besides he had an inkling about where you were.

You were exactly where he thought you would be, sat on a bench in the park, covered by a weeping willow.

“Mind if I sit,” you jumped at the intrusion. Bucky stood in front of you, holding two take-out cups from the coffee shop and what looked like a very chocolatey cookie.

All of you could do was nod, the shame of Eliza’s words and your own dishonesty still coursing through you.

“Here,” Bucky offered you the cup and you numbly accepted. “Do you want to split this?” he held up the bag and you rolled your eyes at him. “I mean, I’m quite happy to eat it all,” he sent you a lopsided grin.

You couldn’t help the little snort that escaped you. “We’ll split it, would hate for you to have to spend an extra hour in the gym burning off a whole cookie.”

“You’re too kind,” he teased, opening the bag and poking out the cookie for you to snap off half of it.

Both of you sat and ate without uttering a word to one another. You couldn’t believe he was being so nice to you; you certainly didn’t deserve it.

“I can see why you like it here so much,” Bucky commented, breaking the silence.

“Bucky, how did you know I’d be here?” You turned to face him and took a sip of your coffee.

“I’ve seen you here before. But before you think I’ve been stalking you let me explain. I grew up around here, a couple of blocks away actually. I like to come here for a walk sometimes to remember the happier more carefree times. I spotted you one day but you looked so content in your own little world, I didn’t want to interrupt.” His cheeks flushed slightly with his admission.

He cleared his throat and looked at the coffee cup in his hands before continuing. “Then I started coming here more regularly, hoping I would see you, but I never plucked up the courage to come and talk to you.”

“I’m sorry Bucky” you said quietly.

“That’s the second time you’ve apologised to me today and I still don’t know what you’ve got to be sorry about. It’s not your fault that woman was way out of line. You don’t owe me an apology for anything,” His brows knitted together with concern and it made you feel even more guilty.

“I should’ve told you about the divorce,” smiling ruefully, placing your empty coffee cup between you on the bench.

“I already knew,” he shrugged.

“What? How? I hadn’t told anyone at work,” you spluttered in shock.

“That’s how,” he nodded to where your thumb and forefinger were twisting around where your wedding ring used to be.

You let go immediately and shook your head. “Why did you ask me out for coffee if you knew about my divorce?”

It was perplexing to you that anyone would want to come anywhere near you after your divorce. You had just assumed you would be alone forever. No one had two people out there meant for them. Well, maybe Leon hadn’t been your one.

“We can’t help our past,” Bucky flexed his metal hand, “I know that better than most. All we can do is make the most of our future. I like you, have since I met you. In fact, Sam got so fed up of me talking about you, that he threatened to ask you out himself if I didn’t hurry up and get on with it. Not that I didn’t want to, it’s just thought you could do so much better that an ex-brainwashed assassin.”

“You’re a good man Bucky, anyone would be lucky to have you” you whispered.  

Bucky leant over and wiped away the tears you hadn’t realised had begun to roll down your cheeks. “I don’t just want anyone though,” His deep blue eyes peered into yours trying to get across his meaning.

“I like you too Bucky, but we’ve got to take this slow.” His face lit up at your words and he took your hand and pressed it to his lips.

“I’m over 100 years old, slow suits me. But seeing as our first date was hijacked would you like to get some dinner with me? I know a diner around the corner has the best burger in the city.”

“Sounds perfect, but only if you let me get it this time. I owe you for the coffee and the cookie.” You offered.

“I think I just about agree to terms of that deal,” Bucky laughed, scooped up the rubbish and got to his feet. “Shall we?” he asked, offering you his free hand.

You put your hand in his and got to your feet. “Let’s go.”

Gif not mine, credit to the creator

Divider made by the talented @firefly-graphics​

Taglists are open. Let me know if you want in or out

Everything:

@stargazingfangirl18 ,  @silentcoyotesong, @queenofstarliqht, @buckys-henley, @lonelyheartsm @alexa-lightwood-blog, @angrythingstarlight, @drabblewithfrannybarnes, @rogueheretic555, @rebekahdawkins, @chrissquares, @pumpkin-and-pine, @hereforbuckyandsteve, @drakelover78, @baddie-barnes, @cas25214, @pandaxnienke, @thehumanistsdiary, @saiyanprincessswanie, @ladyacrasia, @sweeterthanthis, @joannie95, @lennon-knox, @navybrat817

Bucky:

@its-izzys, @archy3001

[kelieah]

surprise (peter parker x stark!reader)

summary: you give peter a gift he would have never expected to receive from you

word count: 2.9k

warnings: angst angst angst, fluff, language

edited: sorry this is super late :(

a/n: hehe, happy bday to the cutest puppy of all! thank you to everyone who helped me come up with ideas for this fic, ily all 3000

masterlist

You and Peter have been dating for almost a year now. You both decided to get together after all the chaos that took place in Europe. You two have been friends for quite a while before that, so the fact that your friendship with Peter flourished into something even better is one of the many reasons why you adore him.

His birthday is tomorrow and you wish to make it as special as it can be. Though you’re not exactly sure how to do that. You know your dad would’ve easily bought something tremendously big and written a cheesy yet short letter with it, and Peter would love it. But if you did the same, it wouldn’t be right. Right?

The night before his birthday, you were in a spiral. You had already planned a surprise party for him at his apartment though that was the least of your worries. You were pacing around your room, unsure if the gifts you’ve been preparing for weeks was enough or if you should add more things. 

Over the years you’ve been friends with him and the months you’ve been dating him, you put together memories and experiences all in a scrapbook. It looked cute and simple on the outside, but once you opened it up, the pages were filled with photos, letters, doodles, and colors. Many references or inside jokes were scattered along the side margins and stickers were put accordingly. You made sure it was perfect, but your gift still felt incomplete to you.

You wanted to be extra. You had to be extra. You remember your mom saying it was something you got from your dad. That man was always one for his dramatics. So you stayed up a bit later than you should’ve, making tiny little paper stars with sweet compliments, affirmations, and advice in them. Then you made as many as you can to fill up a glass jar shaped like R2-D2. 

Though to you, that still wasn’t enough. So you searched and searched and eventually found some vintage Star-Wars comics. Ignoring the fact that they were over a thousand bucks, you bought a dozen or so. His gifts were spread across your bed and you stared at it for what felt like hours.

Is this enough? Is this too much? Will he love it? Will he even like it? Shit.

You remember wanting to sleep and putting it all aside to figure out in the morning. You might’ve forgotten his birthday was the next day with how much you focused on the gifts than the actual date, so you woke up with panic.

You also remembered there was one last thing you wanted to get for Peter but once you glanced at the clock, it was already noon. You overslept.

You feel your heart drop immediately realizing that you weren’t able to text or call Peter a happy birthday or good morning. You assume he must be worried, or hurt or maybe upset? You place your face in your hands and fall into deep thought. Then it hit you, the surprise party is in three hours.

“Morning Friday, read my text messages and voicemails please,” you groggily lean against your bed rest.

“Are you sure, Y/n? You have 243 text messages and 94 voicemails,” Friday informs you. 

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, “Uhm, actually just read the ones from Mom, Peter, Aunt May, and Happy please,” you mutter.

“Understood,” Friday responds, beginning to go through your messages and voicemails, “Mom has messaged you, “Morning honey. Had to go to some meetings. Nanny is leaving at 1, please watch Morgan. I’ll meet you at the party. Could you bring Morgan with you when you go?” Peter has not messaged or called you. Aunt May has messaged you, “Hi dear! I’ve already baked up some cherry pies for the party, when are you going to be over to decorate? By the way, Peter went out and is probably patrolling,” with a smiley face and heart. Happy has messaged you, “Hello, I already ordered the catering, and went over the invite list. Are you up yet?” and he also left the voicemail saying, “Hopefully you’re up by the time you get this. Most of the Avengers are coming, except Thor, the Saviors, no wait, the Guardians of whatever they’re called, and Captain Marvel. I’m sure you could figure out why. Give me a call when you’re up.” Done.”

“Shit,” you whine loudly. You throw yourself out of bed and get to your morning routine. You quickly tidy up your room, take a quick shower, go through your skincare routine and get dressed up. You decided to put on some makeup and wear nicer clothes for once given it’s your boyfriend’s birthday.

You look around your room and inhale deeply, “Just that one last thing,” you remind yourself and walk off. After getting what you need, the nanny informs you that she’s leaving. You walk over to Morgan’s room and knock the door before entering, “Hi princess, you ready for Spider-Man’s birthday?”

She turns around, all dressed up in a pretty floral dress, “Hi sissy, yes! Don’t you mean, your friend boy?” she giggles, running up to you.

You roll your eyes playfully, “You mean boyfriend? Yes, c’mon pretty girl. We’re going to go now.”

An hour or so later, you’re making your way over to Aunt May and Peter’s apartment with Morgan in the backseat. You felt bad for not greeting Peter at all today but you decided to make it a part of the surprise. “He still has a tracker in his suit!?” you burst out in laughter as you stop at a red light.

“Seems like Tony didn’t get rid of it before, I don’t blame him,” Happy mutters. “You got everything right? Morgan, Peter’s gifts, the decorations, and your head?”

“Yes Happy,” you glance into your back seat, checking in on Morgan and seeing the piled clutter. “I feel like Santa Clause with a bunch of gifts and an elf in the backseat,” you chuckle. Morgan gasps and makes a silly expression at you that brings a smile to your face.

“Maybe you are with all the cookies you eat,” he jokes.

“You’re one to talk, anyway where’s Peter now?” you ask as you drive off as soon as the light turns green.

“He’s swinging around, I saw the news. He’s interacting with fans and interviewers, a pretty rare case.”

“True, he must be trying to distract himself. Am I the only one who hasn’t greeted him yet?” you ask, nervously biting on your bottom lip.

“Yep.”

“Shoot, well I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Let’s hope so, I’ll see you and Morgan when you both get here. Gotta help May out with the pies.”

“Sure, the pies,” you tease, causing Happy to roll his eyes and end the call.

You feel your heart stop as Peter suddenly gives you a call. You fight the urge to pick up and shower him in reassurance and love, but ignore for the sake of the surprise. 

Ten to twenty minutes later, you and Morgan arrive at May and Peter’s apartment. You smile and knock on the door, struggling to hold everything in your arms while holding Morgan’s hand.

“Hello hello, you two,” Aunt May opens the door with a bright smile on her face. She lets you in and helps you out, “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry, I overslept. I wasn’t sure if my gifts were enough,” you pout and kiss her cheek. 

“That’s okay. Morgan baby, Happy’s in the kitchen.” May smiles and ruffles Morgan’s hair. Morgan hums and hugs her leg, running off.

“These are all your gifts for him? Sweetheart, it’s his birthday not Christmas,” she giggles. “I’m sure he would love anything you get for him, even if it was a cheap lego set.”

“I know I know, it’s just Peter has been through so much. I feel like he deserves the world,” you say bashfully.

“You’re so cute,” she hums and helps you place the many gifts on a certain table. “Remember, you have been through a lot too.”

“Yes, but today’s his day,” you cross your arms. “Anyway, enough chatter. We should decorate now, everyone’s coming over in an hour right?”

“Yep. I also told Peter to swing around for a while and bring Thai food home at 4. He thinks it’s just going to be him, Happy and I. I told him you have work,” she says, grabbing some decorations.

“Okay, perfect. I feel so bad, I haven’t communicated with him since last morning,” you huff and grab some streamers.

“I’m sure he understands, kid gets busy too,” Happy walks over from the kitchen with Morgan trailing behind him. “Man, are these all your gifts for him?” he glances over at a table filled with only your gifts.

“Y-Yes? Why is that such a bad thing,” you groan.

“It’s not, I think,” he glances at May who gives him a look. He puts his hands up in defense and slowly walks back into the kitchen.

“You’re fine, honey. Also, I love your dress, isn’t that?” she tilts her head.

“Yeah, it’s the dress I was wearing on our first date,” you smile to yourself, glancing down at your cherry red dress. It fit perfectly, not too loose or tight and it had pockets. Something you and Peter were always amused by.

After the three of you finish decorating, the guests begin to arrive. Most of the team showed up and you and Peter’s close friends. You let out a sigh of relief and lean on the fire escape railing, looking out at the city. You glance at your watch, “Almost time.”

“Hey there,” you hear from behind you. You look back and see Happy.

“Hey.”

“You doing alright? Peter’s coming soon,” he says and walks next to you, leaning against the railing.

“I know, I just feel like. I did too much? Too less? I’m not sure, I just wanted this day to be perfect for him especially after last year,” you mutter and glance at Happy with teary eyes.

He smiles sadly and pulls you into a hug, “It’s absolutely perfect. You know, Peter isn’t going to be the only one who’s proud.”

“Who else? You?”

“Well, besides me and a bunch of other people. Your dad,” he murmurs.

You feel your heart tighten and you stifle a cry, stuffing your head into his chest. He sighs and hugs you close, “Thank you.”

“No, thank you. Sometimes I feel like he never left, because everyday I see him in you,” he pulls away, holding your shoulder.

You smile softly and nod, “T-Thank you, Happy really,” you sniffle.

“Of course. You should probably tidy up, your makeup’s running,” he takes a step back.

You laugh half-heartedly, “Alright. Could you tell everyone to get in their places?” you begin to walk towards the apartment.

“Got it,” he nods and follows you back inside.

Your heart was racing, everyone wasn’t sure if he was going to show up at the front door or his room. Happy gives the signal that he’s arrived and everyone goes silent. You feel a slight sense of relief when you hear noises from the front door. If he came through his room, he probably wouldn't be that surprised. 

Peter sighs and holds the bag of Thai food in one hand, opening up the door with a key in the other. His senses have been all over the place today and his heart didn’t feel like it was in the right place. He was beyond worried about you, he didn’t even care that it was his birthday. He just wanted to know if you were okay.

He opens the door, calling out for May. “May, I’m home-”

“Surprise!” Everyone appears out from their spots, greeting Peter with bright smiles and confetti. 

Peter instantly jumps and places a hand over his heart. “G-Guys!? Bruce? Scott? Wait, Ned? MJ!?” he stammers, looking all over the place.

“Happy birthday, Spidey,” you come out of your hiding spot, smiling warmly at him.

“Oh my god, Y/n,” he breathes out and rushes over to you, pulling you into a hug. You let out a gasp as he picks you up and spins you around. He places you down and hugs you closer. He pulls away and glances at your dress then at you, “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he sighs, kissing your cheek. 

You blush at his comment and fiddle with your dress. “Thank you,” you smile, hoping he notices your outfit.

“Wait, isn’t this the dress from our first date?” he holds some of your dress and glances at you. You grin and nod, he sighs happily and pulls you back into a hug.

Everyone reacts sweetly until Flash, who was surprisingly invited yells out, “Get a room!” Everyone instantly glares at him and he shrivels up, smiling sheepishly.

You roll your eyes and Peter ignores him, peppering your face with kisses. “I thought you were mad at me or something, or hurt, or just forgot about me,” he rambles, holding your face.

“Well, luckily none of those are the cases. I just wanted to surprise you,” you hum.

“You planned all this?” he gapes, glancing around his apartment once again.

“Yes, but I had a lot of help,” you hum.

“Friend boy!” Morgan squeals and rushes over, hugging you and Peter’s legs. “Happy birthday,” she beams.

Peter’s eyes soften and his bends down, “Thank you cutie,” he grins.

She squeals and hugs him, “Can you be my friend boy?”

You gasp dramatically, “Morgan, he’s my friend boy.”

“I don’t know babe, Morgan looks amazing in her little princess dress,” he picks up Morgan, holding her close.

You pout and cross your arms. Morgan bubbles happily and wraps her tiny arms around his neck.

To say Peter was overwhelmed with happiness was an understatement. He felt relief, appreciation, love and support. This whole time he was worrying that he had done something wrong when really nothing was wrong and everyone was just hiding and being quiet for his surprise.

After catching up with some of the Avengers and friends and eating dinner all together, it was time for cake and presents.

You couldn’t express how unbelievably happy and emotional you felt for Peter as he stood in front of his cake as everyone sang Happy Birthday to him. His face was filled with pure joy and you wish that could stay on his face forever, because to you, that’s what he deserves and more.

Not much later present time begins and Peter starts to open up everyone’s gifts. You told him to open yours last. You absolutely adored this boy and your heart swelled up every time he held a genuine smile to his face as he opened his gifts. He got up, thanked and hugged every single person who had got him a gift. You truly are smitten for him.

“Who are all these gifts from?” Peter asks, glancing at the huge piles of gifts left. “I thought I had opened everyone’s except Y/n’s already,” he chuckles. 

“Those are all mine,” you walk over, sitting next to him.

“Oh, flower,” he mutters softly and pouts out his bottom lip. “You didn’t-”

“Ah, please open them and shut your mouth,” you cross your arms. Everyone laughs in amusement at your sass and watches as Peter begins to open up the gifts.

Peter first opens up the comic books and jars filled with little letters, “Oh my god, you didn’t,” he whimpers happily. “This must’ve cost a fortune,” he holds up the comic books.

“What? All I did was write on little pieces of paper and-”

“Babe.”

“I know! I’m joking, on to the next please,” you coo and kiss his cheek. 

He huffs and unravels the next gift, his eyes beginning to glisten with tears. He slowly flips through the pages of the beautiful scrap book you made for him. He comes across a page where it was you, your dad and him in multiple photos. He lets tears slip form his eyes and glances at you with softened eyes, “Y/n,” he mutters.

“Larb you,” you kiss his cheek. He places the scrapbook aside and pulls you into a hug, kissing your forehead.

“I larb you more,” he sighs. 

“I thought that was our thing,” May pouts, causing everyone to chuckle at her comment.

“It can be our thing too,” Peter teases. “Is that all?” he sniffles, glancing back at you.

“One more thing,” you smile cheekily.

“Oh man,” he sighs, placing his forehead on your shoulder. “I don’t know if I can take it.”

“Morgan,” you look up, running your hands through Peter’s curls. She grins and grabs the last small box, bringing it to Peter.

He looks up and smiles, silently thanking her. “You want to help me open it?” he asks her. She nods and sits on his lap, helping him pull away the ribbon. As they both do so, the box falls and reveals the gift your mom once gifted your dad, then to you. Peter covers his mouth, “No, I can’t-”

“Peter,” you shake your head.

He sniffs once again, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks as he glances at the glass case with your dad’s arc reactor inside. He glances down at the words surrounding the arc reactor, “Proof that Tony Stark has a Heart,” he sobs.

You glance up seeing that your mom smiles sadly, wiping away some tears. “Happy birthday,” you repeat, kissing his cheek.

“Why are you giving this to me?” he stammers, hugging Morgan back as she hugs him close, nuzzling her head into his neck.

“Mom, Morgan and I already have many parts of dad with us. You don’t have as much and we all know how much he meant to you. You really are a part of our family too Peter, and I felt like you deserved this. Now you can see that his heart also belongs with you,” you smile warmly, cupping his cheek and wiping his tears away.

Everyone watches the heart-touching moment unravel, a sad yet understanding smile appearing on their faces. “I love you. I love all of you, and you,” he pokes Morgan’s nose, causing her to giggle.

“We love you too Peter,” everyone chimes in.

“I love you more,” you whisper, kissing his nose.

“I love you 3000,” Morgan pouts, playing with his shirt. You and Peter look at each other with sad smiles.

“I love you 3000 too.”

tagging some mutuals who might be interested! @ariistotles @cosmicholland @petersholland @tonguetiedholland @theamazingtomholland @tombrina @spideyyeet @toms-gf @peterspideysstuff @chloecreatesfictions @mcdwcman @hollandsrecs @the-salty-asian @fallinfortom @hermayone @allegra-writes @waitimcomingtoo @futuremrspcy @dreamofaprilsblog @t-lostinmendes @musicalkeys @icyhollands @beverlyparkerr​ @marvelhoesworld​

[wiypt-writes]

Riding High

One Shot- Whamageddon

Summary: Frank loses a Christmas time bet…

Warnings: Bad Language words

Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: This is my first entry for @sweater-daddiesdumbdork and @sagechanoafterdark s Festive Writing Challenge. My prompt is- “Did you put antlers on the dog?” This takes place in the Riding High timeline, alongside Ch12- ILY which was their first Christmas together.  (FYI Whamageddon is a real thing that me and my friends play every year without fail...and its HARD!!!  https://www.whamageddon.com/)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Frank parked his truck in the space next to Fliss’ jeep and hopped out, making his way over the lawn to his apartment. That had been an awkward job, really awkward job if he was honest. It had taken him a lot longer than anticipated to locate the problem in the fuel pump, and at one point he was expecting to have to roll it over and finish in the morning which he really hadn’t wanted to do, as Saturdays were the one morning of the week he was able to lie in, uninterrupted and the thought of having to drag himself away from that pissed him right off. Thankfully, Bill had come to his rescue and collected Mary from school, dropping her with Fliss at the yard, something he knew Mary loved and Fliss seemed to enjoy too and it had given him the extra couple of hours he needed to finish up.

As a result whilst he was now tired, dirty, covered in grease and ready for a beer, he could relax that evening knowing he didn’t have to haul his ass out of bed at six am. He’d be able to at least sleep until Fliss’ alarm went off at eight. Mind you, even then he tended to go back to bed after they’d had breakfast, or nap on the couch until about fifteen minutes before Mary was due home. After all, he didn’t have horses to muck out and ride.

Fuck that.

As he traipsed up the steps to his apartment he could hear the sounds of Last Christmas by Wham playing and he cursed. “Fuck!” With a groan he pulled out his phone and opened up the group message, rolling his eyes in annoyance. He typed a single word “Whamageddon” and hit send. This was a game he and the boys played every year. It was a contest to see who could go the longest time over the holiday period without hearing that infernal fucking song. The rules were simple, you weren’t allowed to be a dick by tricking each other and sending messages, videos or emails containing it, and it had to be the original version, so covers, remixes and people singing it didn’t count. It also relied on all of them being honest enough to own up, but they were the Circle Of Truth after all. So far it had claimed Simon and Greg, leaving him and Jake in the running…and now he’d just lost meaning Jake won the forty-dollar pot. Mind you, the last 2 years they’d played it said forty-bucks had been used to purchase drinks on their night out so it wasn’t like he’d actually lost anything, just the satisfaction of beating Jake. But the fact he’d lost that was annoying in itself.

Fuck you George Michael.

Shoving his phone back into the pocket of his dirty jeans with an annoyed growl, Frank yanked the door open and instantly was hit with the sweet notes of nutmeg and ginger as something baked in the oven and the loud sounds of giggling and singing from the lounge. He passed through the small kitchen and paused in the doorway as he saw Mary on the couch,  bouncing up and down, her hands in Fliss’ as his girlfriend danced in front of Mary, twirling round, Thor bouncing along with her occasionally issuing the odd, excited bark. Fliss’ wore a headband upon which a pair of reindeer antlers were fixed whilst on Mary’s head sat a Santa hat which was adorned with light up stars.  The irritation of losing instantly left Franky’s system as he could do noth8ing but smile as he watched the pair of them dancing like idiots before Mary glanced up and saw him and gave him a grin. Fliss turned and smiled, waving him over. He shook his head, gesturing to the fact he was filthy but she simply grinned even more, and bent her finger at him, arching an eyebrow. The fact she seemed to get turned on by him being covered in grease greatly amused Frank and he simply met her down right filthy look with one of his own before she pouted at him as he was refusing to play. As usual when she fixed those eyes on him, he simply rolled his own and gave in, striding over the room where he dropped a kiss to her lips as Mary plonked the hat she had been wearing on his head just as the song ended.

“You just lost me a bet.” Frank looked at Fliss, then Mary. They both frowned at one another before Fliss gave a groan.

“Whamageddon?”

“Whamageddon.” He confirmed.

“Sorry!” she winced, shrugging as he returned Mary’s hat to her head, pulling it down over her eyes “We made sugar cookies though if that’s any consolation?"

“You’ve been busy.” Frank smiled and Mary nodded, pushing the hat up so she could see.

“We’re gonna decorate them tomorrow afternoon before we got to V and Bills.”

“Who’s we?” Frank arched an eyebrow.

“Me and you” Mary shrugged.

“That so?”

“Yup.” Mary nodded “We got ready made tubes of icing and stuff so even you can’t mess it up.”

Fliss laughed at the affronted look on Frank’s face as he narrowed his eyes at Mary before he reached out and grabbed her causing her to shriek as he tickled her sides.

Mary giggled, her protests becoming louder and lounder as did her laughter until, after one particular loud shriek Frank gave a yell and jumped, looking down at Thor who was stood behind him, his head cocked to one side, tail wagging furiously as he issued a loud bark.

“He just bit my ass!”

Fliss laughed even harder “he’s only playing. If he meant to bite you properly, you’d know about it. He’s never bitten anyone properly in his life.”

“Ha, he’s my bodyguard!” Mary straightened her hat once more before she hopped off the couch “Are you taking me to Roberta’s now?”

“Damned straight I am.” He mumbled, shooting the dog another glare before he turned back to her “You got your stuff?”

“Yup.”

“Okay come on. What do you say?” he nodded towards Fliss who rolled her eyes.

“Thanks for watching me and baking and stuff!” she wrapped her arms around Fliss’ waist and Fliss smiled, bending over to give her a hug. “Night Lissy.”

“You’re welcome babe. See you tomorrow.”

Mary skipped off and Frank turned to Fliss giving her another quick kiss.

“You know, you don’t have to make her thank me.” Fliss smiled as he pulled away. “She comes as part of the package.”

“She can still mind her manners.” Frank shrugged “Be back in five.”

Thor made to follow but Fliss grabbed his collar to stop him, before she grinned and after faffing with him for a second let him go. He padded after Frank and Mary, neither of them paying him any attention, although Frank didn’t fail to notice the grins the three of them were getting as they walked down to Roberta’s. Most likely thanks to the hat Mary had on.

Mary pushed Roberta’s door in and they all stepped inside, Roberta coming out of the kitchen to greet them.

“Mary Christmas!” Mary grinned and Roberta scoffed “Geddit? Mary, Merry…”

“Yeah I get it.” Roberta shook her head as Frank let out a snort. Her attention turned to him and she folder her arms, looking him up and down “You look like you just crawled outta some kind of pit. You’re filthy.”

“Yeah, well, been working.” He shrugged as Mary padded past into the living room. “Erm…forgetting something Stack?”

“Oh….” She turned and grabbed her little rucksack off him before she continued.

“Night then.” He shot sarcastically, receiving no response. He shook his head and turned to Roberta “We’re not going out so any issues…”

“There are never any issues Frank.” Roberta rolled her eyes “So, get….” She trailed off as her eyes fell towards Thor “Did you put antlers on the dog?”

Frank turned to look at Thor who was indeed sporting the antlers that had five or so minutes ago adorned Fliss’ head. He gave a snort, now realising why everyone they’d passed had smirked or laughed at them. “No, I didn’t” he shook his head as Thor’s tail began to thump on the floor. “That one’s down to Lissy.”

“You sure you’re not just feelin’ extra festive this year?” she teased and Frank gave a little smile.

“I’m looking forward to it, yeah.” He admitted, his eyes flicking back to the dog before he looked at Roberta. “Been a funny year. Some ways I’ll be glad to see the back of it, in others…” he trailed off as Roberta lay her hand on his arm.

“It was tough, I know. But…it all ended well.” She shrugged “You got that little girl in there and, well, a bigger girl waitin’ for you back home.”

“I’ll tell her you said that!” he grinned and Roberta slapped his arm.

“You know full well that wasn’t what I meant, besides, I’ve seen more meat on a damned grasshopper than there is on Fliss.”

“So now you’re calling her skinny…you know, I never had you down for size shaming Roberta.”

“Get outta my house before I hit you with the mop.” Roberta pointed behind him to the door causing Frank to laugh.

“See you tomorrow.” He turned, patting his thigh signalling for Thor “Come on Rudolph.”

Obediently the dog trotted after him as he left and made his way home, a soft smile playing on his face. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, snorting at the message of victory from Jake. He then noticed he had another message from Fliss. 

His phone wasn't great on picture messages, it was old school after all, but it was good enough to make him stop in his tracks. Her red, lace bra clad breasts flashed back at him along with the message "on second thoughts, maybe sugar cookies aint enough of an apology...I'll say sorry properly"

Frank swallowed as he shoved the phone back into his pocket and set off home, his pace doubled.

Thank you Whamageddon...

*********

Everything 

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Frank Adler

@patzammit​ @lovingonshawn​ @smediumsmeatbae​ @itsmycorneroftheinternet​ @chezdricks​ @aldu-p​ @mariestark​

[briswriting]

forever and always

『 in which you fall in love with a prince but find out you’ve been bethored to another 』

pairing: prince!todoroki x fem!reader  genre: royal au, arranged marriage, angst, fluff wc: 2,858

a/n: this is a fic dedicated to @writeiolite because it’s now officially her birthday so happy birthday io babie!! i wrote a royal au for you because we’re always freaking out about this trope together and what better boy for a royal au than our princely babe shouto! this was longer than i was expecting, my longest fic i think ahaha, but i hope you still like it! i thought i was v big brained with this plot hehe ily and appreciate you lots io babie mwah!! hope your birthday is full of lots of fun and love ♡

Princess Y/N L/N of the L/N Kingdom is to be betrothed to the crown prince, the next heir to the throne, of the Todoroki Kingdom in order to strengthen the bond and alliance between the two kingdoms. With this marriage arrangement, Princess Y/N is to be taken in and cared for by the King and Queen of the Todoroki Kingdom as one of their own in order for the princess to understand and learn the ways of their royal customs before she can be fit to become Queen alongside her betrothed. If this contract shall be broken by any means, the friendly bond and alliance between the L/N Kingdom and the Todoroki Kingdom will cease to exist.

With these words written on a single piece of parchment, along with the four distinct signatures signed away at the bottom, you were betrothed to the crown prince of the Todoroki Kingdom, Todoroki Natsuo, the next heir to throne the after the death of his eldest brother, Todoroki Toya.

The years you explored the castle grounds with all three of the Todoroki siblings since moving to their palace at the young age of five had made you grown used to living within the palace walls of the Todoroki Castle. You were used to the sounds of the songbirds outside your window every morning, the soft whispers of the servants echoing through the halls while doing their chores, and the clattering of expensive chinaware behind the closed door of the palace kitchen.

Your life within these castle walls was almost like clockwork, a daily routine that never seemed to change. Wake up, eat, study, eat, attend important meetings, eat, sleep, repeat.

Being the same age as the youngest prince, Todoroki Shouto, you had grown up alongside him; you did everything with the prince by your side. The two of you attended royal lessons together, your seats at the large dining table placed next to each other. Together, the two of you explored every corridor and found secret passageways stowed away within the walls of the old castle.

Being with him, your daily routine didn’t seem all that dreadful. No royal titles when the two of you were together, no Prince Shouto or Princess Y/N, the two of you were just Shouto and Y/N, your Shouto and his Y/N.

“I’m to be what?” Eyes blown wide as you stood in the middle of the throne room, the two giant thrones in front of you occupied by the King and Queen, who requested a private audience with you after your meal with Shouto.

“Betrothed to Natsuo. That’s why you have been living within our kingdom rather than your own. When you were five years old, we lost our eldest son Toya and your parents decided to help out by giving the heir to the throne your hand in marriage to form a stronger alliance between our kingdoms.” Queen Rei’s soft spoken voice echoed throughout the room, informing you of the contract that they had signed along with your parents. A deal that sold your life away to someone you didn’t want.

You had no bad blood with the crown prince; you found him to be an excellent friend, an older brother to you as you lived all these years with his family. What you weren’t expecting was to be thrown into a life of marriage with him, a marriage built not from love but because of a piece of parchment that gave away your hand in marriage, when you were too young to understand why you were being sent away, for the purpose of building a stronger alliance between two kingdoms, a life where you couldn’t be with the one you loved.

“That’s- that’s ridiculous! You can’t force me to marry someone I don’t love!”

“Princess Y/N, you will do as we say. Being royalty comes with a price, and if marrying someone to benefit your kingdom is something you have to do, you will do it with no questions asked. Or have you not learned anything from your studies all these years? So do you understand?” King Enji’s voice boomed around the room, a vast difference from his Queen’s voice, who now sat silently beside him in her throne, one that would be yours one day.

You couldn’t say no to the arrangement; it was out of your hands, already agreed on and signed all those years ago. You also knew that without your marriage to the heir of the throne, there would be no alliance, and both of your kingdoms would suffer immensely. So despite not wanting to be married off, you understood the consequences that would happen if you did not go through with the arrangement. “Yes I understand.”

“Good. You may leave now; we have some other important matters to discuss.”

Silently closing the throne room doors behind you, you quickly dashed the one person you could confide in, Todoroki Shouto.

Knowing every nook and cranny of the palace, you ran down the halls, almost blindly, with tears in your eyes as you made your way towards his room, towards him, your safe haven from the world. The place where you exchanged laughter and tears in the dead of night with the one person you cared for the most. The one you shared all your secrets with, your first tender kiss with, your first romantic touches with, and your first everything with. Todoroki Shouto was, is, your first love, forever and always.

Crashing through his bedroom doors, you frantically looked around the room for the boy with the heterochromatic eyes that you fell in love with.

“So they told you I’m assuming.”

Whipping your head towards the owner of the voice, you come face to face with the man you are supposed to marry, Todoroki Natsuo.

“Natsuo! Wh-Where’s Shouto?”

“Not sure, but he’s not in here, princess.”

“Did you know?” Your question was kept simple in case the white haired man before you didn’t know about the arrangement between the two of you set up by both your parents.

“Know about what? About the arranged marriage between us? Yes, I’ve known for about a few years now.”

“And you didn’t say anything,” you breathed out, still trying to catch your breath from the run through the halls, your mind still whirring with the words spoken by the King and Queen to you moments before.

“I couldn’t. I wasn’t allowed to, and you know it. If I could, I would have told you the day I found out all those years ago.”

“B-but I can’t marry you!” You exclaimed, keeping the reason why you didn’t want to be married to him a secret.

“Because you’re in love with Shouto, right? Come on; you can’t deny it. The two of you aren’t very subtle, trying to hide the romantic relationship the two of you’ve built these past few years. I see how the two of you look at each other when you think no one is looking, like little kids trying to sneak cookies from the cookie jar. You do love him, right?”

“Of course, I love him, you idiot! Why do you think I ran to his room after finding out the news? It wasn’t just a mere coincidence, Natsuo. Why are you in here, anyway?”

“I wanted to talk to Shouto about something that’s been on my mind. I don’t know where he’s at. I was waiting for him to come back, but it’s been a while, he’s probably holed up somewhere reading a book or something.”

With the thought of Shouto, your heart skipped a beat, your mind stopping for a split second, before the question that’s been on your mind comes flying out. “D-does he know about the arrangement?”

“Are you really going to ask that? If he knew about the arrangement, do you think he would have continued letting himself get close to you? Continued to let himself fall in love with someone he knew he wouldn’t be able to have in the end because of our parents?”

And with his words, you grew silent, knowing that what he spoke was the truth. If Shouto did know about the arrangement, he wouldn’t have let you fall in love with him, wouldn’t have let himself fall in love with you. The gentle touches and caresses, the soft looks in each other’s direction when no one was looking, the secret meetups at night so no soul, but the two of yours would find out about the love you two shared. That all wouldn’t have happened if he knew, and your heart clenches at the thought of never knowing what it felt like to be loved by Todoroki Shouto.

As you sat on his bed, tears streaming down your face, contemplating what your life would be like from this moment on, Natsuo silently slipped out of the door, bumping straight into the person the two of you were just talking about.

“Oh! Shouto, I was looking for you. I need to speak to you about an important matter.”

“Do we have to do it now, Natsuo? I’ve got plans soon, and I need to get ready for them. By the way, have you seen Y/N around, was she in there?”

“It’s urgent, Shouto; we need to speak now. It’s about Y/N.”

“You’re going to do what?”

“Abdicate the throne, you’ll be the next heir and become king.”

“Natsuo that’s ridiculous! You can’t do that! We’ve been living our whole lives knowing that you’d become the next king, not me!”

“Shouto listen to me, it’s for the best.”

“For the best my ass, you’re being ridiculous! Why are you doing this? What’s the reasoning behind you wanting to abdicate your rights to the throne all of a sudden?”

“It’s because of you and Y/N! I- I’m to be married to her in the coming year Shouto, but I can’t do it knowing that the two of you are in love with each other. I can’t do that to you two,” Natsuo whispers out, hands clenching at the thought of a contract made years ago ruining the love you had for each other.

“You’re to be married? To Y/N? Says who?” Shouto exclaimed, thoughts running through his mind at the idea of someone sweeping you off your feet and away from him.

“A contract between our parents and hers. It was made when Toya died, that’s why she is living here with us. I didn’t think twice about the arranged marriage, knowing it is our duty as royalty to do what’s best for our kingdom, but ever since I’ve learned about the arrangement, I also learned that the two of you are in love with each other.”

“Does Y/N know about this arrangement?” The thought of his lover keeping such a big secret from him made his blood boil, how could she let him fall in love with her when she knew they wouldn’t be able to end up together in the end, did she even love him back or were her whispers of love all lies?  

“Don’t be mad at her, Shouto. She found out today and ran straight to your room to tell you about it. You should have seen the look on her face when she barged into your room; it was too painful to see.”

With that statement, Shouto let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in, his brother’s words confirming that you were equally as heartbroken about the arrangement and he was and that the love you had for him was genuine.

But a question still lingered in the youngest prince’s mind. “How is your abdication going to help solve this problem?”

For the second time that day, the halls of the Todoroki castle had someone sprinting recklessly down it with tears in their eyes towards the same destination, his bedroom. The room where behind the closed doors, they exchanged sweet touches and loving words in secret, the room where his beloved Y/N was probably heartbroken and waiting for his return to their safe place.

Approaching the door and opening it softly, he quietly slipped into the room. His eyes frantically looking around the room for you before stopping on your sleeping form curled up and under the covers of his large bed.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed near your sleeping form, the creak and shift of the mattress caused you to stir awake. Your red and puffy eyes, an indication that you cried yourself to sleep while waiting for him, meet his heterochromatic ones that were glossed over with tears.

“Shouto! Have you been crying?” You asked frantically, quickly sitting up to cup his face in your hands, wiping away the few stray tears that happened to run down his cheeks.

“Maybe a little bit, but not as much as you have my love,” he whispers, cupping your face in his hands to gently rub away the dried tears stained on your face.

“Did- did you hear the news?” Your heart hurt at the thought that he was here to tell you that the romantic relationship between the two of you could no longer continue, that you now belonged to his brother.  

“I did. I ran into Natsuo on my way here, and he informed me about the arranged marriage.”

“It’s terrible, Shouto! I can’t go on with it; I don’t want to!” Your hands moving from his face to grip the edge of his sweater before burying your face into the crook of his neck. His own hands move to wrap around your waist, gently toying with the edge of the shirt, his shirt, you had thrown on while waiting for him, wanting to get out of the stuffy and confined dress you previously had worn for the day.

“So you don’t want to get married to me?” He ask his question so calmly; it took you a while to process the words that came out of his mouth before your head shot up to look him in the eyes.

“What? Shouto, what are you talking about? I’m to be married to Natsuo, not you.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion; you hadn’t misheard the information, right? No, that’s impossible. You talked to Natsuo about it too, you were supposed to be married to the crown prince, and that’s definitely Natsuo, not Shouto.

“Natsuo is abdicating his rights to the throne, he’s requesting an audience with the court and everything right now.”

“He’s claiming abdication right now? Is that why he was looking for you? How does giving up his rights to the throne help us?”

And with that question, the conversation Shouto had with Natsuo moments before came flooding back as he informed you on his older brother’s plan.

“How is your abdication going to help solve this problem?”

“I read the contract for the first time today, before they told Y/N the news. It states that Y/N must marry the heir to the throne, but it never specifies a name, never says who she must marry. So if I abdicate, you become the crown prince Shouto, you become the next heir to the throne, which means that you will get to marry Y/N. I know it’s not how you want to be engaged to her, but it works out this way.”

“So you’d give up your rights to be King for me to be happy? Why?”

“Because you’re my brother Shouto and I care deeply for Y/N too, I don’t want either of us to be forced into a marriage just for our kingdoms to remain allies; it wouldn’t be a happy life for either of us. Anyways, dad has a favoritism towards you; it’s no secret, he’ll gladly accept my abdication for you to become the next King rather than myself.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Why don’t you go tell Y/N the news, hmm? I’m sure she’d be glad to hear that she’ll be able to marry you instead. I requested an audience with our parents and the court, by tomorrow you’ll be the crown prince of the Todoroki Kingdom Shouto, do me, proud baby bro.”

“I will. Thank you, Natsuo.”

The silence between the two of you was eerie as your brain wrapped around Natsuo’s idea of giving up his claim to the throne for you and his little brother to be happy, Shouto waiting for you to say something as he watched your face comprehend the words he told you.

“If we’re to be married, then why were you crying, Shouto?”

“They were happy tears, my love, because now I can finally do this.” And with that, he reaches into his pockets to pull out a small velvet box, opening it to reveal a diamond ring. “So, Princess Y/N L/N of the L/N Kingdom, will you do me the honors of marrying me and becoming not only my Queen, but my beloved wife for the rest of our lives?”

“Forever and always, Shouto, forever and always.”

bnha taglist: @shinsousama @samwritesss @atsumubabie @zoppzoop @the-black-birb @dumbassbrigade @bokuto-simp @allywritesimagines @nekoglasses @asweetpotato1 @seijoh​ @casasstrash​ @shoutokageyamafan​ @miyuswriting​ @bnhabookclub​  lmk if you would like to be added!

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

I finally got to read the new chapter!! I've been eyeing it for a while!! 🥰🥰

Augustus basically commanding Fuegoleon to go get her 😂😂 the audacity! luckily Fuegoleon was well prepared!! and not Fuegoleon trying to keep it all in 🥺 someone ship them into a secluded spot where Fuegoleon can show how giddy he is about it to Solara without having to fear judgement!!

Poor Fuegoleon and Solara, trying to stay together when their nations try to keep them apart 😭 not really, but like, they both have so many responsibilities!! courting and living together will do them good, I think 🥰 🥺

I'm so shocked by Solara's mother's behaviour!! She already thinks Solara is dead even when Solara's trained so hard! 😤😤 have faith in your daughter!! Solara is so strong, we've seen it time and time again! The only time she...how to say this without spoilers 😭 the only time something bad happened, it was because she was protecting someone else!! I have full trust in Solara😤❤️ and if not, I have twins that can bring her back! 😂

ASDASFDTASD Awwww I'm always so happy to hear how eager you're to read 😭💕

Y es, the audacity. Thinking that he is very sly and that the idea, or the command, is coming from him hehehe 😏😁 LMAO I had so much fun while writing that interaction 😂 A damn~ where is Finral when you need him? 😭😂

Yeth, being allowed to finally do things without having to upkeep appearances, even up to the extent that they are at the moment. It'll do them both good 🥺💕

Their mother... she is jumping to the worst possible conclusion because of her own history, and the people she has seen train hard, but still have died, haunt her memories. She does want to believe Selena, she does. But... she is afraid. And up to the point until the portal was opened, she did want to believe that Lara would make it. But after she came face to face with the mana that emanated from the other side, it slapped her in the face, and made her mind tumble into the worst possible conclusion.

She worries, and she can't help it. She is afraid, and preparing her for an outcome she has seen happening so many times already. So... in a way she's trying to protect herself from hoping, from daring to hope for something, only to have it yanked away from her. It kind of serves as a jinx (?) of a kind on a deeper level. "If I have hoped for x, and the outcome was y... Then if I prepare for y... maybe x will happen..."

BSAHGDFA Poe and Fen! They're so cool! (I've lowkey been thinking about mentioning Fen somewhere in there 🤔 Maybe even... hint to Fue that .. a thing is an option if... the worst would happen...) But Lara is a tough cookie 😁 It's always been intention to make her strong, through being weak first 😁🥰

Thank you for reading! 🥺 ily!!!

[anothertimdrakestan]

Absolute Cheeseball  -  Wally West x Reader

Words: 1.4k

Requested? Yes! From the lovely @officiallydarkgeek!

“Ohhh #28 "are you flirting with me?" "Thank god you finally noticed" with Wally, not because he is subtle but because she thought he flirted with everyone (which he didn't). (Alright I'm gonna stop now thanks and I love you)”

LINK TO PROMPTS  -> REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN!

HELLO AGAIN ANGEL CAN I SAY HOW MUCH ILY! These requests are everythingggg. I love Wally ;) I love you ;) what a good day ;) I went for Young Justice Wally because he’s h o t and we can just pretend Dick and Artemis aren’t love interests but good friends... Hope you enjoy!

Wallace Rudolph West. What a confusing kid (flash). You’d successfully moved into Mt. Justice with the team and he’d been a big help making the adjustment. But that didn’t make your feelings for him less confusing. You’d caught him staring at you multiple times not to mention the quick quips about your eyes and how gorgeous they were. But he was a flirt, with everyone. He called everyone babe, though you realized you were the only one whose heart fluttered from it. Not to mention he was affectionate as hell. Constantly slinging an arm around people's shoulders Conner had commented multiple times on how your heart rate sped up when Wally was around. 

But you knew you weren’t special to him. Sure he spent time with you but it was because you were new, and the team was slow to warm up to new people. And he toyed with everyone’s hair; and commented on everyone’s suit. You had to reign in your superhero ego knowing that in this instance you weren’t special. Besides, Robin was totally cute too, and even though he had advanced emotion controlling training he was easy to read, and he wasn’t looking for anything more than a flirt. You assumed it was because of someone back in Gotham. So you each had people you were pining to be with.

If nothing else it was fun flirting with Robin, especially on slow days. He was watching some medical drama with Wally and you plopped down on the couch right next to Robin, a little closer than is normal. “Hm, why do all the doctors sleep with each other? Do they even take care of patients?” Wally interrupted Robin, “because babe it’s fake ya know - made up?” he winked at you, and you stuck out your tongue, ignoring the butterflies twirling around your gut. Focussing more on Robin you rested your head on his shoulder, “so Robin do you have a secret identity or did Bats erase it. It can’t be as dumb as Wallace so you’re in good company!” Robin snorted and Wally sat up in his chair. “Yeah bird brain tell her your not-so-stupid name” he looked intrigued. “Well it’s a secret” Robin huffed. You didn’t want to upset him so you moved on, grabbing his hand by his wrist, holding it up to yours. “You have way bigger hands than me look!” you flattened your palm against his, grinning into Robin’s shoulder.

What you didn’t notice was Wally literally vibrating with jealousy. I mean what was Robin giving you that he wasn’t? He helped you move in, used all his famous moves on you, and tried telling you about all the things he liked about you, and yet emotionally stunted bird brain was getting the girl? Letting a little jealousy take over he zipped next to you, pulling your hand on to his.

“Ha look mine’s bigger” you barely registered Wally crossing the living room and nestling next to you. He hand was larger, he could bend his fingertips over your hand when you were palm to palm. “Congratulations Wallace you have the bigger hand but the dumber name” you teased Wally and noticed him lightly shaking, you’d clearly hit an insecurity or something. “Yeah really? Cuz his name’s Dick!” Wally blurted out. Dick jumped up angrily “what the hell dude? Secret identity much?” he glared at Wally who looked sheepish. “Sorry sorry, can I talk to you for a minute man?” before you could ask what was happening Wally zoomed off with Dick - it is a pretty lame name.

“Dude Wallster what is going on with you?” Dick narrowed his eyes at his best friend who was awkwardly rubbing his neck. “Erm, I kinda like Y/N and she’s all over you and I got kinda upset” Wally shrugged his shoulders and Dick tried to hold in a laugh. “Dude what are you on, I’m with Babs and Y/N totally doesn’t like me she’s into you dude” Wally looked up hopefully, and the two moved towards Dick’s room to plan.

A day later you and M'gann were baking when Wally and Dick came to join. More like watch. They sat at the counter make fun of you while you questioned your ability to cook. Wally couldn’t stop laughing “Y/N, babe, you’ve gotten more flour on you than in the bowl!” and you scrunched your nose at him, blowing some flour on his face. Eventually, after making fun of you, Dick and Wally got up and began to help. The first batch of cookies were being decorated by Dick and M'gann while you and Wally worked on the second batch.

“See this is why I watch the medical dramas, surgery and cooking are like the same thing! And I’m an expert!” Wally puffed out his chest while you giggled. To say you were close was an understatement. Wally would stand on one side of you then press against you to reach something from a cupboard or lean to grab the sugar with his face just inches from yours. You were intoxicated by his cologne, trying not to melt into his embrace. At one point you complained about being tired from stirring when Wally reached around either side of you, essentially trapping you in his arms and took the whisk from you. His breath was tickling the skin between your neck and shoulder, making you inhale quick breaths, trying to focus on the cookie dough. 

M'gann mind linked you should we leave? You and Wally are doing more than cooking over there! And you mind-yelled back No! We’re just baking I wouldn’t be surprised to see you and Robin doing the same thing! You heard M'gann laugh lightly No Y/N he’s definitely flirting with you. And you got a little flustered, forgetting about the mind link. “No! he flirts with everyone not just me!” and you saw Wally’s gaze snap up from the cookies to you. Dick grabbed M'gann saying “oh wow hear that? Someone needs our help better go!” and the two of them basically ran out of the kitchen. 

You stepped back, bracing yourself on the cabinets. “You aren’t flirting with me are you?” asking for confirmation. And Wally blushed “Uh, yeah I am. Are you just now noticing?” and your heart basically stopped. “No you aren’t you act this way with everyone! Right?” and again Wally shook his head “nope! Only got eyes for you Y/N!” you tried to let the words absorb into your love-shocked brain. “Only me?” you whispered, slowly leaning towards Wally who was closing the distance between the two of you. “Only you babe” he answered before bringing his lips down on to yours. 

Pulling apart he didn’t let you out of his embrace. “You do like me right? Cuz you were all over Rob yesterday and it kinda sucked” he admitted. “You jealous KF? You haven’t even asked me out yet!” you teased and he blushed. “Oh! Yea. Maybe tonight I can run you somewhere cool! You ever wanted to see Star City stars?” and you couldn’t help but grin “sounds perfect Wally”. Both a grinning mess Wally’s hand fell to your chin, tilting your head up so he could capture your lips in another kiss. 

“I bet I kiss better than Dick!” Wally winked at you. “Hm should I go find out?” you pretended to walk out of the kitchen when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back into his chest. “Mhm nope. You’re gonna have to trust me on that one” and you laughed at how jealous he really was. You played with the fabric of his shirt. “So you really couldn’t tell I’ve been flirting with you for weeks?” he still looked shocked, “I thought my game was good!” and you rolled your eyes, “I thought you were using your ‘game’ on everyone! Didn’t think I was that special” you admitted as he toyed with strands of your hair. “Funny cuz I think you’re the most unique, special girl in the world” at that you couldn’t help but blush. “Save it for our date cheeseball” you poked his chest. “Well if you couldn’t tell I was flirting then I’ve gotta up the frequency and quality!” he grinned as you rolled your eyes. “Fine fine, now can we please go watch the sunset or something cheesy?” and he kissed you on the cheek before saying “Okay! I’ll be ready in a flash!” and you closed your eyes, trying to remove the horrible one-liner from your memory. “Gonna be a lot more of those huh” you whispered to yourself with a full heart for your flirt. 

[lokislytherin]

hot stuff, beware!

pairing: waiter!jeon jeongguk x reader

summary: it’s winter, and you’re cold, but the waiter in the cafe is cute as hell and your best friend is a demon in the flesh.

word count: 1670

a/n: mERRY CHRISTMAS @jungkooksbish​ ILY (this is not my best fic tho :( i’m not really too satisfied)

let’s all pretend this entire covid thing is over! i wrote this in summer, hoping quarantine would be over by now, but oh well

enjoy! 

(sorry i gave myself a cameo again, also my jin bias jumped out)

You have to say, winter is not your favorite season.

Of course, having a few whole weeks of break to rest after months of school is nice - the holidays give you the chance to take a break from your hectic schedule, hang out with your friends without having to stress about schoolwork.  As a bonus, you get to wear lovely winter boots that make your long legs look great, and you love wearing large fluffy jackets you can drown in, but...

“Fück,” you groan, “it’s so cold!”

This winter is especially horrible.  As if the cold isn’t bad enough, it’s that time of the month for you, which makes everything a hundred times worse. Not only are you a walking marshmallow, you’re also cranky as hell, with your damn hormones all over the place.  Your cramps are especially bad today, but you’re willing to shove your pain aside in favor for hanging out with your friend.  Months of quarantine have left you itching to leave your house.  You’ve been a couch potato for too long.

You shiver, wrapping your arms around yourself.  You regret that immediately.  Your hands are cold! “Hug me,” you demand, “I’m cold.”

Your friend tucks themselves further into their numerous amounts of jackets.  “I literally can’t move.” A rather hairless poodle trots by, shivering and whining miserably.  “Ooh, wouldn’t wanna be that guy.”

You crack a smile, amusement warming your cheeks.  “Pfft.”

Both of you squeal in delight and surprise when a gust of warm wind blasts you out of nowhere.  “It’s warm in there!” You shout triumphantly, heedless of the strange looks a few passerby's are throwing in your direction.  You grab your friend by the arm and they yelp, dragged along by your large strides.  “We’re heading in there, and we’re finding the warmest place to sit.”

Both of you speed-walk to the nearest café.  “Did you even need to ask?”

You stumble into the warmth.  The café isn’t particularly big, but it’s warm and the décor is cute and that’s more than enough to make you happy for the time being.

Your friend whistles as they look around.  “So this is the infamous Bring The Sweet, huh?” They glance at the violet fairy lights strung low on the walls.  “Probably looks better at night.”

You raise an eyebrow.  “Why infamous?”

They raises an eyebrow right back, but it’s barely a match against your thick, especially-expressive ones.  “Haven’t you heard?” They lower their voice, looking around like they’ve got a secret.  “Apparently, everyone here is insanely good looking.” You settle in a booth next to the patisserie, and they inhale deeply.  “Food will always be better than guys, though.”

They shoot you a pointed glance, and you shrug.  “I have a weak heart, okay? I catch feels easily.”

One of the pâtissiers has clearly been eavesdropping, because he muffles a laugh, only to be roughly elbowed by his coworker, who hisses at him to stop being nosy and deal with this annoying Karen with me, goddammit.

The clacking of heavy boots alerts you to an oncoming waiter.  You turn around - and scream.  Inwardly.

“Hi there, ladies, what can I get you?” 

Good lord, this waiter is cute.

Your heart thumps wildly in your chest.  His long sleeves cover his muscular arms, and tattoos peek over his knuckles.  It doesn’t match his bunny cheeks and absolutely adorable smile.  

You’re too busy trying to memorize his name tag - Jeon Jeongguk - to realize you’re staring and being very obvious about it.  Seriously, if all the staff in the cafe have the same visual standards...

A throat-clearing and a not-so-subtle kick to the shin jolts you back into reality.  “Hot chocolate!”

Your friend disguises their wheeze of laughter as a sneeze.

“I mean, I’d like a hot chocolate, please!”

Jeon Jeongguk smiles at your blunder, lopsided and amused.  Your heart’s beating so hard you think you might faint.  How could you embarrass yourself like this, in front of a boy as cute as him? 

“One hot chocolate and one latte, coming right up!”

Is it just you, or does he wink before walking off?

Your friend groans, sarcastic but playful.  “Could you be more obvious?”

Pink dusts your cheeks, a dreamy look spreading across your face.  “He’s just so cute...”

Now you’re 100% sure the pâtissier is invested in your conversation.  Apparently, his name is Kim Seokjin.  “Cute?” He waves a hand dramatically.  “That boy is a menace to society! Besides,” he says with an obvious, exaggerated wink, “why would you choose him when I am clearly superior in every aspect?”

“Jin, work!” The tall manager and the other pâtissier bellow at the same time.  Your friend’s shoulders shake as they splutter in silent laughter.

Seokjin, or Jin, as he’s aptly nick-named, turns to your friend.  “Just between you and me, you agree with me, right? Clearly everybody else isn’t willing to admit that I am the one and only Worldwide Handsome.”

Your friend bats their eyelashes innocently, but you know better than to fall for their innocuous façade.  “If I say yes, will you give me free cookies? Those pastries look pretty nice.”

Jin turns away, sulking.  “The youth these days are so disrespectful,” he complains, “Yoongi, don’t you agree?”

Yoongi sighs a breath of relief, muttering a quiet “thank God” under his breath.

“Hah? What did you say?” You can’t help but giggle at Jin’s blatant indignance.  Even your friend is stifling a laugh, barely managing to thank the waiter bringing them their latte.

“At this point, I’m just glad you didn’t offer them a free cookie just to spite me.”

Jin pouts, ignoring the customer outside who discretely takes a photo.  You duck under the camera range, and your friend leans away.  “Aigoo, do you think you mean so little to me? We’ve been doing this together for weeks now!”

Yoongi just gives him a death glare.  “I’m starting to wish you’d given them the cookie now.”

A light tap on your shoulder with a pen makes you jump.  “Excuse me, Miss? Your drink is here.”

You nearly forget how to speak in front of Jeongguk and his dazzling smile.  “Th- Thank you!”

“No problem!” Your drink is probably sweet, but his smile is even sweeter.  “You should be careful, though, it’s hot too.”

You cock your head.  “Too?”

Seokjin smiles arrogantly.  “Of course, he means me, Worldwide Handsome, the best looking man you’ll ever see-”

Jeongguk looks the other man dead in the eye, puts a hand over your shoulder, and makes a sizzling noise.

You squeak.  Your friend shoots you a thumbs up from across the table.  He thinks you’re hot!

A strangled scream makes its way out of Jin’s throat.  It sounds like the distant relative of a boiling kettle.  “You- You little brat!”

“I’m really sorry about him.” Jeongguk’s gentle voice and innocent words don’t match the shït-eating grin on his face, but you find it kind of hot, actually.  “He’s just salty that he thinks he’s so good looking, but in reality, he's probably not gonna get laid before he turns thirty.”

That cracks you up.  You can’t stop laughing, even though it’s at the handsome pâtissier’s expense.  Yoongi can’t seem to stop his unabashed cackling either.  Your friend waves at Jeongguk, a matching devious smirk on their face.  “Excuse me, but can you pass me a pen? And a piece of paper?”

Jeongguk looks confused, but complies.  Your friend scribbles something down, trying hard not to burst out laughing.  Jin, still pouting, shouts when he sees what your friend has written.  He even helps them shield the paper from you!

Your friend passes the paper to Jeongguk, and when he reads the message he turns beet red from his ears to his neck.  “Have fun!”

Jin discretely steals a cookie from the shelf and passes it to your friend, and they exchange fist-bumps while Yoongi isn’t looking.  “Take care of our Jeonggukkie,” he tells you seriously, “he may be annoying but he’s still my big baby.” He cracks his knuckles.  “Lucky for you, I’m a gentleman, but I’m still amazing at trash-talk.”

“Oh,” the other waiter says, peeking over Jeongguk’s shoulder, “are you going on a da~”

Jeongguk manages to keep his fellow waiter at arms reach, even when they struggle against him.  “A- Are you available tomorrow?” He stammers out.  “Your friend said you want to watch the new Wonder Woman movie, and I think she’s pretty cool too... Wanna go together?”

Deep inside, you clutch at your chest and scream.  So cute! “O- Of course!” You haven’t stuttered this hard over a guy in a long while.  “Can I have your number?”

“Jeongguk,” the manager shouts, waving his hands, “and Jimin, the tables aren’t going to wait themselves.” There’s a fond smile on his face.

“Sorry, Joon!” Jeongguk turns back to you.  “I’ve already got your number... I’ll call you later?” 

He’s still blushing, but so are you.  “I’ll be waiting.”

Fück, you think seconds later, too desperate! 

Jeongguk doesn’t seem to notice, offering you one last bunny-toothed smile before bouncing off, a hop in his step.

“Seriously, though,” Jin grumbles, “take care of him.”

“I will.”

A few days later, winter is your new favorite season.  You look good in your winter-wear, you’ve got free hot chocolate coupons, and guess what? You’ve scored yourself a hot date, and maybe even a new boyfriend.

Maybe being cold isn’t so bad after all, you think to yourself as Jeongguk lends you his jacket.  What a gentleman.  Your sweet Jeonggukkie.

[suntrastar]

abstract: chapter 3

 chapter 2!! you can also read it on ao3 :)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Artist!Reader

Summary: Wait- Bucky Barnes attends your art class? And you didn’t even recognize him?

Word Count: 9520. i am deranged. someone euthanize me i beg you.

Author’s note: jesus fucking christ. this is so long for no reason. probably kind of poorly written. that is okay though. i really really appreciate the support you guys have given me for the last 2 chapters!! i was a bit iffy about joining tumblr but i’m glad to be here now :) please comment and reblog!! i appreciate it so much!!! ily all ok now enjoy this mess!!!

“You want to paint me?”

Rina looks at you, shocked, mouth agape, lone cherry tomato speared on her fork.

“Yeah,” you say, and smile with your straw still in between your teeth. “You in a field of flowers.”

“You want to paint me in a field of flowers?”

“Yes- that’s literally what I just said.”

The bustle of the restaurant is loud enough to drown out the rising volume of her voice. Thankfully. She’s being excessive, again- as if this is the first time she’s ever been the center of attention- but you’re fine with it today. You almost like it.

Today, her enthusiasm is almost contagious.

“I know,” Rina says “Duh. But, like, it’s just so crazy to me that you want to put me in your second solo show ever- I mean, why me?”

“Because,” you say, and almost leave it at that, just to mess with her. “Because you’re my best friend, and the whole thing is focused on people I know. And your hair would look so good with poppies, and-”

“I’m your best friend?”

“Obviously,” you say, even though to her, it might not be that obvious. “Who else?”

“That is so sweet,” she says, and leans back in her seat, dramatically clutching her hands over her heart. Rings sit on each of her fingers, gold and heavy stone. “You are too nice to me.”

She’s really milking it. But you’ll let it slide.

Rina gives you a self-satisfied smile, which you return without too much trouble. She’s so overwrought and showy with how she sits, limbs sprawled all over, like they’ve been blown into disarray by the wind. Her hair, still glossy red, is parted down the middle and made up in two French braids, tips just barely brushing her shoulders. The hair ties don’t match.

She has no best friend. She probably has, like, five other people just like you, who she calls on when she feels like it, whenever she wants company, when she feels like humoring someone. Or when she wants someone to listen to her talk.

It comes as part of the lifestyle- can you really blame her?

“I know,” you say, veering back on topic. “Bucky gave me the idea.”

You do it on purpose.

Her eyes go wide.

“Bucky?” She says, incredulously. Like she doesn’t believe you.

The feeling of being incompetent comes quick in a flash, and it takes too much to put it away.

You’re not incompetent- his number is in your phone, after all, isn’t it?

“The Winter Soldier, I mean,” you say, and the words feel all wrong in your mouth.

“No . Shut up. You are not on first-name basis with the fucking Winter Soldier.”

“Oops,” you say.

Her jaw drops.

You’re grinning too hard. She didn’t expect this from you- you didn’t expect this from you! You take a bite of your food, some garlicky chicken thing you can’t pronounce the name of, to delay your response. It gives you time to think of what to say next.

Rina waits, stunned into silence.

“We’re… talking, I think,” you say. “I asked him for his number.”

“And he gave it to you?”

“Yep.”

There’s a story there, that you won’t tell her.

You texted him a day after class, on Tuesday. Was that too soon? You didn’t care, your mind was too muddled with so many other things- icy blue eyes and different techniques for drawing wrinkles and this week’s shopping list and the best color that went with orange-red, and the laundry that you still hadn’t done.

You were too giddy to get smart with it- all you sent was a simple Hey.

All he sent back was a simple Hi.

Then, once you had read over his message too many times, you turned your phone off and pretended it never happened.

It’s too nerve-wracking. And pointless. You’re going to see him on Monday again, anyway! There’s plenty of time to text him- everything doesn’t have to be so immediate- you’ll get around to it before then, for sure.

You just have to stop thinking so much.

“I cannot believe you,” Rina gushes, and from her expression, you believe her. “You’re all grown up! I am so proud of you. That man is delicious, I cannot-”

“Do not describe him as delicious, oh my god.”

You burst out laughing as Rina raises one eyebrow, filled in dark. Her eye makeup always kills. “Am I wrong?”

“Well… no, but…”

***

Steve leaves, but Bucky stays back at the end of class to help you clean up. Acrylics again, and it’s the second-to-last class, so you had finally brought out the canvas.

Canvas means more fun, but more mess. More paint splatters on the tables, more brushes with clogged-up bristles.

Bucky doesn’t smile as he says bye to Steve, and it makes you feel a certain type of way , but you stick to business. Cleaning supplies are pulled out, paper towels are ripped from the dispenser. Bucky starts on the tables while you roll up your sleeves and start the sink, preparing to start on the brushes.

God- these brushes.

If these brushes were washed incorrectly, you would cry. They’re new, and high-quality, and the bristles are still soft and not yet frayed or discolored, and the handles are made of thick, clear plastic, and they come in different sizes and styles, and you can barely believe it, but they all even have rubber grips.

They’re really nice brushes.

“You didn’t text me back,” Bucky says.

You wish the sink was loud enough to swallow all sound, swallow you up within it.

Still, you look over your shoulder, giving him a pained smile while he scrubs at a spot of dried paint. He looks back at you, but you can’t tell what he’s thinking.

Of course you didn’t text back- thinking less is way harder than it seems.

“I wanted to,” you say, “but I got nervous. Sorry.”

You turn back to the sink. It’s a little easier to breathe without having to look at him.

“You got nervous,” he repeats, voice still so unreadable.

Is he mad? He always looks mad, always sounds mad- you can’t ever tell if there’s anything behind it.

“Yeah,” you say, and shrug, like it’s no big deal at all, like you chicken out of things all the time, like texting is always such a cause for concern. “I didn’t know what to say. What was I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know.”

Ugh.

The sink water slowly circles the drain. You don’t look past it, only keeping your eyes on the sink and the remaining brushes- it helps calm your heart, a little. Bucky is probably on the last few tables. All of the paintings have been neatly propped up on the drying racks.

Bucky painted his entire canvas yellow.

You are so dumb.

“Um, okay” you say, shutting off the sink. The really nice brushes are all neatly piled up on the counter on top of a folded paper towel, washed and drying. “What if I was like, ‘hey, Bucky, after this class ends and I’m not your art instructor anymore, would you want to meet up sometime?’”

You turn back around and lean against the sink. It’s an effort that deserves applause- you look so collected, while your heart is beating way too fast, and Bucky, its forever opposite, just stands behind a table, spray bottle in hand.

Your hands are sweaty.

He nods slowly, and it’s a victory in and of itself- the action nearly has you weak at the knees.

“Meet up,” he repeats, voice low, like a halfhearted growl. Disdainful, kind of. “Like a date.”

You wipe your hands on your apron. It’s a totally normal, totally relaxed movement. But then you’re wishing that you wore something cuter- was this sweatshirt really the only thing you had? Do you not own, like, a blouse, or something? Didn’t you just do your laundry?

Fuck, you’re being annoying.

“We don’t have to call it that,” you say. “We can just… hang out. Eat something. Go on a walk.”

You say it casually, but honestly, you like nice dates. Dates at art museums, dates at fusion restaurants, dates at movie theaters showing indie films in foreign languages. Anything eccentric, haphazard. Spontaneous.

But you also like seeing him smile, and you like to talk, and you like to be listened to- and he is giving you that.

This is a different type of everything. It’s all upside down, inside out, twisted over in itself. You have to approach it all differently, maybe it’s because he’s too quiet or too famous or too dangerous or whatever the hell, but none of it matters.

What matters is that you want it.

You’ll realign your compass.

“Okay,” he says. “I like walks.”

“Great,” you say, and go on without hesitating, because long nights have you tired and hesitation is for the weak, “I like you.”

Bucky Barnes, real, unfitting name James, clutching dirty paper towels and a spray bottle, smiles at you.

It’s wrong, but you could just bite him.

A sudden, unprompted thought hurls through your mind- you want to paint him.

***

The last art class.

It was once long-awaited, but now, you’re actually sad to see everyone go.

You buy a tray of cookies. It’s the least you can do- everyone has been so nice to you, so respectful and cooperative. Everyone has made things fun. You don’t know if you were doing anything right, but it sure as hell has been enjoyable.

Crumbs might get in the paint, but’s a small price to pay.

“Knock yourself out,” you announce.

The tray is set out on the middle table. You forgot the package of napkins back at your studio, so you gesture to the paper towel dispenser.

Then you long for the kids in your Wednesday and Thursday classes, because unlike these people, they wouldn’t be looking so dead at the prospect of free cookies.

You shake your head and return to your perch, tucking your feet behind the legs of the stool.

Eventually the conversations trickle out, slowly turning the room warm and lovely and bright. You listen in, a little, savor it, and hop back up. There’s nothing to do- might as well make some idle chitchat, one last time.

Shonna uses a small brush to add purple highlights to the feathers of a pigeon. It’s gorgeous- and you don’t even like pigeons- but you like her painting style and the jewel tones she’s adding amidst the grey, and the orange beak, and the washed-out yellow background she’s painting over.

“Wow,” you say, and she adds another purple highlight with a flick of her hand. “I cannot stop looking at this pigeon.”

“Thank you, honey,” she says, without looking up.

She’s too focused for you to stay for too long- you have to leave the pigeon for others. Marcie waves you down and gives you the latest update about her son, abandoning her half-painted rose while she launches into a bit of a tirade- her son wants to pierce his nose, isn’t that ridiculous?

“Hey, I wanted to pierce my nose when I was his age, too,” you say, and spout something about self-expression that makes her frown.

Ahmed chimes in. You have no idea what the blob he’s painting is supposed to be, but you like it. “I’ve been trying to tell her the same thing! These kids are modern now- these are just the things they do!”

“These are just the things we do,” you echo.

Marcie heaves a heavy sigh.

***

You head over to a few more tables, and it goes by too fast and too slow, but then you’re suddenly there in the back, with your star student, and your…

With Bucky.

“I really like how this is turning out,” Steve says proudly, as you approach them.

Then, he adds, almost childishly, “Don’t look until I’m done.”

He has a half-eaten sugar cookie sitting by his paint water.

“I won’t look” you promise, and all at once, you’re almost emotional- he is such a nice guy. He’s like the human embodiment of a golden retriever. “Don’t worry.”

Steve nods, pleased and nervous at the same time. You pointedly look away from the painting as you slide into a seat, across from Bucky and his yellow canvas.

Yellow and black canvas. He’s hunched over with a fat-bristled paintbrush in hand, adding black stripes, blobby and unevenly spaced, but still unbelievably straight.  

It is all so cute.

“Very bumblebee-esque,” you say, and his forehead creases. “I like it.”

Steve smiles.

Bucky adds another line. He didn’t take a cookie. He should’ve- the chocolate-chip is so good.

“Thanks,” he says.

And Steve just smiles wider, and you almost kick him under the table, and Bucky gives you an unsmiling look that turns you to jelly.

Hat aside, he is looking exceptionally pretty today. All hair and eyes and bone structure- it makes you want to do something, like reaching out and grabbing him by the collar of his jacket. Like running a hand over his jaw. Catching his stubble under your fingertips.

Parting his hair down the middle and French braiding it.

Taking a picture- it'll last longer.

“I'm going to miss seeing you guys around.”

Steve gives you a surprised look and shakes his head. He has one arm protectively curled around his canvas, even though you’re still not looking.

“Oh, I’m sure one of us will be seeing you around,” he says, and grins.

You glare at him.

Bucky laughs.

***

The goodbyes aren’t as bad as you thought they would be.

People leave with a simple goodbye and a brief thank you, shrugging on their coats and gingerly clinging to their still-damp artwork. Marcie makes you promise her that you won’t pierce your nose. One woman who would always come to the class with a huge coffee cup sets her painting aside to sweep you into a hug.

It’s very gratifying.

Steve and Bucky linger.

Shonna does, too, but for a completely different reason.

You want to give her Rina’s contact. She probably has some painting class available, if Shonna’s interested in that sort of thing, if she’s okay with being around so much personality.

And you also want to give her your contact- so she can keep on sending you pictures of those  birds.

“One sec,” you tell her, and reach for your purse, sitting on the counter.

Bucky is standing closeby, remarkably closeby, and you accidentally brush against him.

He goes rigid.

But you’re busy pulling out a pen and a scrap piece of paper, and then you’re using the counter as a hard surface to write against, shoulders angled away from him, and you’re talking all the while- you don’t have the spare second to be concerned.

“This is my email,” you say, adding a smiley face after the address. “Send me your art. And, like, talk to me. Send me your grocery lists, if you want- I don’t care. Here.”

Shonna takes it and gives you a smile. There’s a glimmer of something in it, a knowing.

“Thank you,” she says, and laughs a little, and you suddenly fiercely miss your mother. “I’ll keep the last bit in mind.”

She looks past you. Steve, standing a few feet away, holding the canvas he still hasn’t shown you, nods respectfully. And Bucky, standing near the counter, still near you, even though he’s looking at you like you’ve scalded him.

“I’ll leave you to it,” she says.

You almost ask, “to what?” But she’s already left- Shonna and her pigeons are gone.

Steve steps up fast to take her place.

You still have no time to think.

“So, this is the finished product,” Steve says with no preamble, and with a great flourish that makes you laugh in delight, he turns the canvas around.

Oh.

Wow.

You’re not dizzy.

But you will be, if you keep on looking at this- a tangle of vines on a wall, with blooming flowers in what should be the wrong colors, dappled in light from a window you can’t see, drawn from a strange perspective. The leaves are really big and the vines are really small, and then it’s flip-flopped, and he has a hot-pink underpainting that he didn’t fully cover, so there’s pink in the leaves, pink on the wall. Pink in the un-pink flowers.

“Fuck,” you say, and then go quiet.

Steve tenses.

Now you have two very strong men looking at you weird.

You should probably fix that.

“I don’t- I don’t know what to say,” you say, stumbling over your words, feeling cotton-mouthed. “There are no coherent thoughts going on in my head right now. I’m just- where did this even- how did you even come up with this?”

“I tried to do that thing you said,” Steve says, sounding uncertain. He shifts and the painting moves with him, sending pink flickering over your eyesight. “No empty space. Because it’s boring.”

What is this called, again? Artists supporting artists?

“It is boring,” you say in agreement, and your voice comes back to you, all at once. “And holy shit, you pulled it off so well. I’m obsessed with the pink underpainting- it’s everything. You literally invented pink. And can we talk about these vines? How long did it take you to draw them all tangled up like that? And the flowers- you even gave them little stems, ugh.  And all the colors! And this lighting- I’m sorry, I have too much to say.”

Like watching a flower bloom, Steve unfurls at your praise, blush deepening with each compliment. It’s so wonderfully endearing, and internally, you sigh in relief.

“Thank you,” he says, and bursts into the brightest smile you’ve ever seen. “Also, we have one more question.”

“We?” You ask, and Bucky clears his throat.

You turn to him.

Already, you have a whole slew of problems- you have to sketch out an emerging idea and place an order for new brushes, ones with rubber grips, and you have to cook dinner when you get home because lately you’ve been ordering too much takeout, and you have to organize your closet, and you have to give an adequate and peppy response to whatever Steve is about to say-

You’re bursting at the seams.

There isn’t much room for anything else. Any concern.

“You have something to say, Bucky?” You ask, and waggle your eyebrows.

He doesn’t crack a smile- just how you like it.

“I do,” he says, smugly, and then says your name in a way that ties your stomach up in knots, that has you thinking of flowers and chiffon.

“We were wondering if you’re free tomorrow,” Steve says, and then invites you out for drinks, for tomorrow evening.

So you’ve passed the initial threshold of friendship, and now you’re onto group drinking! That’s exciting- and you’ll get to see Bucky, and you’ll get to postpone that tedious process of planning out a date- a hang-out, and you’ll have an opportunity to show up in something besides jeans and sad sweatshirts.

There hasn’t been a chance to show it off to him, yet, but you can dress.

Steve mentions another friend named Sam, who might join, too, if that’s okay with you.

“I’m cool with it,” you say. “The more the merrier, right?”

He has to be a decent guy, if Steve associates with him, and you like new people.

But doesn’t Steve also associate with, like, Tony Stark?

That man is oh-so problematic. He rolls out with a new scandal every month. He’s had enough scandals that he could release a line of red-and-gold-themed calendars- with the dates of each scandal marked in. Each month could have its own photo, too, coinciding with the dates.

Tony Stark, making peace signs at a court hearing. Tony Stark, wasted on a yacht. Tony Stark, in the middle of an interview where he bashes people who have absolutely nothing to do with him.

“That sounds like fun,” you say, and Steve lets out a breath of relief, “but I have to ask, about Sam? Is he, like, a…”

An Avenger? A genetically-altered individual? A prominent public figure with a stupid amount of money?

“He’s a really nice guy,” Steve quickly says.

“He’s a pain in the ass,” Bucky says, immediately after him.

***

As it turns out, Sam Wilson is not a pain in the ass.

He is really nice, but more importantly, he is funny.

Bucky texted you the address a few hours ago. You walk into the bar and at once, you’re assaulted by an excess of dark- dark floors, dark lighting, dark accents on the decor. None of it is dingy, just low-lit. It’s a nice place.

It might be a little too nice- nothing like the sticky-floored, rowdy sports-themed bars you usually hit when you’re in the mood to get hammered.

You catch the back of a head, wavy brown hair and thick shoulders, in a booth tucked into the corner. Steve, sitting opposite him, against the wall, catches your eye and waves you over.

Next to Bucky is a guy you’ve never seen before, Sam. Black skin, close-cropped hair, looking over his shoulder to flash a grin at you. Even in a simple shirt, you can tell that he is built.

He’s an Avenger, then. Maybe.

You’ve just barely slid in beside Steve, and you’re grinning and making some dumb comment about the disaster that is the New York subway system, when Sam fixes you with a gleeful look and leans forward.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says, casting a side-eye at Bucky. “I’m not joking when I say this- I was starting to think that Barnes made you up. He’s always doing crazy shit like that. Anyways, you will not believe why I’m actually here.”

You humor him, because why the hell not? “Why are you actually here?”

Already, you can tell that he has that vaguely-ironic, purposely-stupid sense of humor, which you always find absolutely hilarious. And you want to know what he means by crazy shit.

Bucky looks up at you for a few charged seconds, telling you something you can’t decipher, and then ducks his hand back down to stare intensely at his drink. Something amber, with ice cubes.

“I’m here to make sure that you don’t feel bad. Because these two fossils,” Sam says, and Steve winces, “can’t get drunk. But I can! So if you wanna get trashed, I’m game.”

Under the dimmed lights, Sam’s teeth shine perfectly white. All of Steve’s friends seem to have perfectly white teeth.

“It’s because of the serum,” Steve says, and you just gawk.

They both can’t get drunk?  

Because of their fucking superhero vaccine?

“What the hell,” you say, and rest your elbows on the tabletop. Bucky’s gaze follows your arms, starting at the hems of the sleeves, trailing up to your shoulders. “That’s so… Steve, if you can’t get drunk, then why are you torturing yourself with that beer?”

“It’s for the feeling,” Steve says quietly, blushing pink, and Bucky is still quiet, and you have a feeling that this has something to do with nostalgia, or World War II, or something. The good old days.

Sam catches it too, so he buts in, quickly bringing the conversation back to something less layered, less wired.

He’s a man with nothing to hide. He tells you who he is with no hesitation, without trying to skip over or disguise anything- he’s open. He’s a war vet, too, and now an Avenger- he’s the Falcon. He has, he says, a pair of fancy-ass wings. And the coolest outfit.

“Wait,” you say, and you’re suddenly dying to know, “what does it feel like to fly?”

His eyes light up.

“You know when you’re trying to sleep, and then you randomly get that feeling that you’re falling, and your stomach does that thing?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s like that, but you can control it. It’s fucking amazing.”

He launches into a whole spiel, talking your ear off about the feeling of high-altitude wind on his skin and aerodynamics and some science-y things you don’t understand, and you get your own beer and enjoy the sweet feeling of getting buzzed on a weeknight, and as the edge you constantly have on yourself shifts, the seats shift, too.

You don’t know how, but you end up next to Bucky, in between him and the wall. Not touching, but close. Sam is across from you and Steve is next to him, and all of a sudden they’re talking about Chex Mix.

“If the Avengers were Chex Mix pieces,” Sam says, throwing the word Avenger around casually enough to make Steve’s hesitations seem horrendously uptight, “I would be the garlic chip. The best part of the whole damn bag. Do you know what I’m talking about?”

“Yeah, those chips are definitely the best part,” you say, adopting a mock-seriousness. “And Tony Stark would be one of those knobby-ass, crunchy little mini breadsticks.”

Sam mirrors your expression, nodding gravely, like what you’re both evaluating is a highly intellectual subject. “I completely agree. And for Rogers- man, you’re a pretzel.”

You narrow your eyes. “Square or circle?”

“Uh,” Sam says, turning to survey poor, unprepared Steve, looking equal parts bewildered and embarrassed. “Square.”

“Great choice. And Bucky?”

“Bucky…” Sam hesitates, and the briefest smile flashes over his face before he schools his expression back into objectivity, “Bucky is one of those original Chex squares. Sorry.”

“That’s cold,” you say, and Sam smiles again, and leans all the way back in his seat, bringing his hands behind his head.

“He’s not one of the yellow squares, though- those are actually good,” Sam starts, grin growing wider by the second, and you can’t tell if it would be rude to laugh. “He’s not one of those squares with extra seasoning, either. Bucky is just one of the plain brown squares. The wheat squares, or whatever the hell. Have you ever, like- have you ever wondered what the sole of a shoe tastes like? Or the eraser on top of a pencil? That’s what those taste like- that’s what he is. Just one of the plain Chex squares.”

Your jaw drops.

A roast like that from a halfway drunk man is absolutely scathing.

Bucky just levels a glare.

He’s used to this, you think. Is that his crazy shit? That he never reacts to anything?

You’re definitely a little tipsy- this is obviously no time to get wasted, but the edge has certainly been taken off, the corners of your world having gone hazy. In a lull, you watch a well-dressed man standing by the vestibule doors lean past your field of vision and receive what you think is a kiss on the cheek.

Without thinking, you lean close to Bucky and cup a hand over his ear.

Maybe he won’t react, maybe he will, but you’re not going to give him the time for either.

“I think that you’re the garlic chip,” you whisper loudly, and you’ll probably cringe yourself into oblivion over it when you're sober, but you think he shivers- and then he snorts.

“Thank you,” he says, and Sam putters out, giving you an amazed look.

***

“Heyyy,” you say later, turning to Bucky, when time has passed and you’re no longer on the subject of Chex Mix and he’s still a little too quiet. “What’s up?”

He’s quiet and troubled, drinking what might be whiskey like it’s water. Is it whiskey? You didn’t think that people actually drank whiskey- just kept it around in crystal decanters and silver flasks to look cool, like they’re main characters in a movie.

“The sky,” he says dryly, like you didn’t say that same exact shit when you were in middle school, hopelessly thinking that it was the slickest comeback.

“Very funny, James,” you say, and he huffs, and you feel a brief flash of panic, and then you’re almost apologizing, when he grins.

You know maybe three whole things about him, but you’ll press yourself up against him right here and now, under the low light of a fancy bar, with rain sliding down outside the window panes, with his friends right across the table. You don’t care.

His friends can tell.

“We’ll be right back,” Steve says suddenly, making a very showy display of getting up with Sam. Both of them send you obnoxious grins and suggestively raised eyebrows.

Bucky glares. You can’t stop smiling.

“You kids have fun,” Sam calls, and you laugh.

Just you and him, then. The mood shifts fast, turning from one thing to… another. Bucky’s eyes reflect the window outside, falling dark and darker, and you’re slipping, too.

“You look really nice,” Bucky says, and his eyes dip down in the slyest fucking move- you’re almost proud of him for it, for having such game.

A spark of heat flashes through you, as he takes you in slowly, like he’s trying to savor it.

You opted for a slightly tighter shirt, and a pair of jeans, but they’re your nice jeans. The ones without any weird streaks of paint on the thighs. And you wear a beaded necklace, and in your ears, a pair of fun, delicate hoop earrings, dangling with charms in the shape of crescent moons.

“Thanks,” you  lean back, into the wall, letting your voice drop to match the tone of his. “You do, too.”

He just stares at you, unamused. Still dark, and dangerous.

Purple chiffon, you think, and marigolds. The flower was meant for another friend, but she’ll have to manage, because now, you can only see Bucky with marigolds, with no room for anyone else.

“So,” you say, before the silence carries on and makes you do something stupid, “Done anything fun lately?”

He tenses. Again.

There’s all these things that you know you can’t ask him, things about his job and his hobbies and his metal fucking arm, which you still haven’t seen- which you’re fine with, but, like. It’s the fact that he has a metal arm in the first place- he is so detached from everything you know, and you aren’t sure if you know how to navigate it all. You don’t think he knows how to navigate it, either.

He’s hesitant, you think. But not unwilling.

You’re just going to roll with it.

”I watched a movie today,” he says, sounding so smooth that your clutch on your drink wavers. His eyes are raking you over, cold.

Red marigolds. Not the orange ones. Red marigolds with the little golden borders on the edges of each petal.

“Which movie?”

He shakes his head. “I forgot the name”

“Okay, well, what was it about?”

“Talking dogs.”

You laugh and he smiles, and then you feel light enough to float. “Talking dogs?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, and he takes a sip. His mouth is very pink. Layers, you think, layers and overlapping, to make the fabric look hazy. Washed-out. “They talk when their owners aren’t home.”

“That sounds right up your alley,” you say, and you’re giggly and he’s all smiley and maybe you’re being embarrassing, but whatever, because he’s looking at you like he’s never been smiley with anyone else before, and you really, really want to lean in.

You’ll wait.

***

Sam comes back with Steve a little bit later, but it isn't until you’re getting ready to leave when he brings it up.

“You’re good for him,” Sam says, while Bucky and Steve have gone to pay. Your drinks are on him- how chivalrous. “Honestly, you’re probably too good for him.”

You laugh as you shrug on your jacket. “Doubt it.”

“No, I’m serious,” he says, voice dropping to an urgent whisper. You realize at once that he’s about to say something heavy, something concerning. “He has been through some fucked-up shit. It’s not his fault, obviously, but it’s always there. He’s never going to get over it. Sometimes he doesn’t sleep. He just stays awake, for like, three whole days at a time. Sometimes he just disappears. He never tells anyone where he goes. Sometimes he does this thing where he-”

“I get it,” you say quickly, and he must be able to see your sudden dread, because his face softens.

“I’m not trying to scare you. I just want you to know- that that’s what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Thanks,” you say, and zip up your coat, and then pat your pockets even though you know you have everything, just so you have an excuse to not say anything. Sam gives you a long look, before sighing and pulling out his phone.

Obviously, Sam is trying to tell you that Bucky is damaged.

You’re not in the business of fixing things, but you’ll take him as he is anyway, because...

“Sam?” you say, and he looks up from his phone.

“Sometimes,” you start, and swallow down whatever anxiety is starting to surface, “Sometimes he’s being all quiet and moody and angsty and whatever, I get that same feeling that you’re telling me. But then, like, he just does something. Like, he’ll make a joke, or say something, and then it’s like-”

You struggle with your words- it’s like everything you want to say is there, but you can’t reach it. Sam slides his phone into his pocket, and Bucky is coming back, with Steve in tow, moon and sun, peas in a pod. You wonder if Sam makes their duo a trio, if he’s the third invitee to their slumber party, or if he’s just on the fringes.

“It’s like- It’s like, okay. Like, I know who he is and it’s all okay.”

He nods, and smiles at you, and you sincerely hope that he isn’t just on the fringes.

***

The paintings of your parents are finished- and they are good. So good. Every detail is there, every color. Every line. The wrinkles and the flowers and the lace neckline of your mother’s dress. Looking at them makes you feel so proud- it’s been forever since you were able to properly convey your thoughts onto canvas.

They’re big, too. Larger than life. You’ll have to rent one of those orange U-Haul trailers to transport them.

On a new canvas is Rina, only halfway painted. She looks good too, even though right now she’s just a head and a torso and two floating feet, because getting the colors on her legs right is harder than you thought. It’s tricky to paint the shadows and contours without her legs just looking bruised- there’s so many flower stems overlapping with the skin, so you don’t have a lot of room to work with.

You’ll figure it out.

You might be a little in over your head, actually. Confident- a little too confident. You don’t even have this painting done, and you’re itching to start on another. A possible recipe for disaster, but every time you have a spare second, in the shower or on the subway or when you’re trying to fall asleep, you find yourself thinking about it.

Not in bits and pieces the way most of your thoughts are, but a fully formed concept; a real, true image brimming with fullness, already starting to spill over into everything you do.

You have it all figured out. You know what techniques you’ll use. What composition, what colors.

You text Bucky.

Nothing crazy. You know you could scare him off, or maybe not, not anymore- by the end of the night at the bar last week, you sat next to him and bumped up against him and whispered in his ear, and right before you left he flicked the charm on your earring, watched it sway, and then he smirked- and you almost died.

You text him Hey, and then set your phone on the farthest surface you can find, pointedly avoiding it. Rina’s calves need attention- you have paint to mix.

Ten minutes later, your phone rings.

You can’t help it, you’re weak-hearted- you drop everything and dash to your phone, dodging your carts of supplies and hopping over a stack of toppled canvases that you never bothered to pick up, and pick up on the third ring.

“Hi,” you say into the receiver, slightly out of breath.

“Hi,” he says, and he sounds slightly out of breath, too.

“Um,” you say, and laugh a little, with the heady rush of nerves flooding in, “I wasn’t expecting you to call.”

“I called because I’m a slow texter,” Bucky says.

You feel so fluttery. When was the last time you felt this fluttery?

“Oh. That’s okay. I was just wondering if you... wanted to meet up sometime soon? Tomorrow, maybe?”

Tomorrow is Saturday, a day off. For you, at least- do Avengers get days off?

“Okay,” he says, and you swear he sounds pleased. You want to cut straight to something else. Skip, jump, leap over all of these steps, so you can get to what you really want to tell him. “I think I can do that. Where are we meeting?”

“There’s this little cafe we can… we can head there first, I’ll text you the address, but I have this idea,” you say, and wait for his invitation to continue, with your heart beating dangerously fast, thrumming like it might just burst through your ribs.

“What’s your idea?”

Thank you, you almost say, but don’t.

The steps are skipped, formalities disregarded- you just tell him.

It’s the perfect time- there’s that currently rare, pretty daylight that grows with each passing day streaming in through your windows unfiltered, blocked by no blinds or curtains. You pace a little, at first, right in the sun, and then sit down on a stool, toeing the smooth wood floors beneath, cradling the phone.

You start it off simple, with the marigolds.

Red marigolds, you specify, because you feel like you have to. Then you delve deeper, into chiffon and lighting and this thing you want to try out with layering, where two elements that overlap go by a completely different color scheme. Like, you say, like the flowers are red and the clothes are black, but the places where they meet are electric pink or orange or blue or something else unusual and distracting.

Save for the sound of his breathing, Bucky is quiet. You can tell that he’s really listening, probably sitting down somewhere and focusing on you, not doing some other task with your voice as background noise. He doesn’t interrupt when you go off on a tangent about the importance of natural lighting or contradict yourself with opposing statements on color choice, or when your words start to deteriorate, when they start pouring out so fast that they slur together and become less than coherent.

Your mind is going even faster- you can see the image even when you blink.

Something at the back of your thoughts tells you to stop, to slow down. You need to chill out.  

But the idea is so vivid, so you can’t- you don’t, not until the idea is totally exhausted and you give a final sigh and go quiet, not until after giving what could count as an entire fucking speech.

When Bucky speaks again, he sounds tentative.

“I… like it,” he says, and maybe he’s holding his phone at a bad angle, because his voice is quiet.

“You do?” You say, instead of asking something else, with a sudden bad feeling in your gut.

“Yeah. But…”

You know what he says without him having to say it.

It feels like you’ve been punched.

The picture behind your eyelids burns brighter.

“That’s okay,” you say in response to his unsaid words, speaking too late, so that it's obvious that it’s not okay.

Your heart is sinking, as if it has any right to, as if he’s in the wrong. How did you go from high to low so fast?

You scared him. You put too much pressure on him too fast- it’s exactly what Sam said, that he’s all levels of wary and weird, and little things can set him off, because of everything that he’s been through-

Even if he was someone else, though, even if he was normal, he would still say no- anyone would say no to being given such a request out of nowhere.

Well, Rina didn’t, but she doesn’t count in this situation, does she?

“Sorry,” he says.

That hurts worse.

“Don’t apologize,” you say quickly. “It’s not like it’s not going to work now- I mean, it’ll be fine. Are you still down to meet, though?”

“Sure,” he says, too late.

***

Bucky Barnes does not like anything in his coffee.

He takes it black, black like his clothes, black like his soul, black like whatever other emo shit you can come up with.

It’s not that funny anymore.

Still, you keep up with it- you’re funny and talkative and charming and everything else, because you don’t know what else to do. The subject will be broached, it’s inevitable- you’ll broach it, even, but you still have to figure out how.

He’s subdued. And wearing his stupid hat, again, and you would give anything to knock it off so you could really see him, and he’s cautiously cradling his mug in a way that makes you ache everywhere.

The cafe is busy and decorated with a specific aesthetic, one that you would call manufactured bohemian. Potted plants and quirky photographs and drinks that all have fancy and ridiculous names. The baristas wear yellow aprons, and if you have a membership card, every tenth purchase gets you a free sugar cookie iced with a smiling sun.

Your cappuccino foam is dissolving. Sometimes, even though it’s mostly tasteless, you swipe it up and eat it with a spoon. Today, it seems like a bad idea- frivolous in the face of his silence and your unmotivated charisma and this stupid idea lingering between you two, like a friend that’s overstayed their welcome.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, and wonder why you feel so jumpy for saying it. “For bringing that thing up yesterday.”

To your own credit, you still sound confident.

He looks at you so darkly that you wonder if you should be afraid. Have there ever been others in your seat, afraid?

You’re not afraid.

“It’s fine,” he says, and continues staring at you like it’s not fine.

“I’m just- I was just thinking out loud,” you say. You feel like you have to explain yourself, prove something to him, so that you won’t wilt. “It was just an idea that I thought could be cool. I told you because, no , wait. I mean, I know that I- fuck. I’m sorry that it made you uncomfortable. That was really dumb of me.”

He tilts his head, eyes sliding over, and you shiver.

He looks bored.

Which is unnerving and terrifying as hell, because you have this carefully hand-crafted, precisely-cut image of who you are supposed to be, and it is not meant to be boring in the slightest, but he's bored, and you’re going to lose it.

“I said it’s fine,” he says, monotonously, giving the sudden impression that he’s about to leave. But he’s just sitting in his seat, unwrapping his hands from his mug and setting them on the table, while your hands are on the verge of shaking. “It didn't make me uncomfortable.”

If that was true, then you wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place. You wouldn’t be stumbling over yourself to say something so simple.

It takes considerable effort to keep your gaze steady. “Okay. But I still- I just want to say a thing really quick.”

“Say it.”

He’s being mean.

But this thing has been eating at you for a while now, so you don’t care.

“Um, so, we’re really different people,” you start, and before you second-guess it, you adopt your speaker voice, the teaching voice, the smart one. He has to know this about you- you’re smart. “And you obviously have all of your own things going on in your life that I can’t even imagine, and if you ever want to, like, talk about it, I’m here, but I also don’t care.”

He raises an eyebrow.

You push on.

“Like, it’s not important to me. If you want it to be, then it’ll be, but if not, then it’s whatever. I'm not- when I see you, I just see you. Does that make sense? Like, I don’t really think of any of that other stuff? If I’m supposed to, though, I’m sorry. I… I don’t even know what I’m saying.”

You don’t get nervous often, but you let out a small, nervous laugh.

It’s like your heart and head and lungs are suspended, frozen in ice while he takes your words in. The door to the cafe chimes and a large group of people step in. Middle aged women, all wearing athletic clothes. Devil’s ivy grows on the wall farthest from you- how chic- with vines snaking forward in your direction, reaching for you in green and streaky white.

He smiles.

All you see is teeth and creased eyes and a low, uncreased brow- you want to kiss him.

“Tell me the idea again,” he says, and leans back in his seat. He crosses his arms, and you watch his forearms shift and strain against his shirt, and then you clear your throat and look away and try to focus.

You inhale and gather everything, hoping that this time, you’ll be able to make it make sense.

***

One thing spirals into another. Your words were building and building, rising like a crescendo, overwhelming you to the point where you just said it outright, and-

He’s now in your apartment.

He is literally in your apartment.

You watch him survey the area- the clutter, the mismatched furniture, the crooked posters and photos and artwork hung up on the walls. The subpar paint on the walls that you didn’t choose, the cabinets made of old wood with newly replaced handles.

The entire place is creaking, becoming worse for the wear with each passing day. You could probably afford nicer, but it doesn’t matter, because you love it here- you’ve formed an emotional attachment that goes beyond sad paint and constant repairs. Your home is cozy.

But right now, with Bucky in here, it’s suddenly cramped.

“I want you to sit over here,” you say, and facing a great window, rounded on top with those gorgeous little decorative swirls, which is your favorite part of the whole place, is an armchair. It’s a steal you found at an antique store, with little tassels lining the back of the seat, upholstered with the tackiest floral print you’ve ever seen, but it’s perfect for what you’re trying to do.

The sun is shining strong and unfiltered- he’ll be lit up.

Bucky sits. He looks on edge, and beautiful.

You want to make this easy for him. But you might be too swept away in him to make any efforts- you’re still in shock that he agreed to this in the first place, so disoriented with him being here, in your place, that your trains of thought keep on derailing.

You’re closer than you wish you were, closer to losing it.

“Perfect. Give me one second.”

You go to your room, which isn’t really a room but a sectioned-off alcove with a bit of wall blocking it from view, no door- weird architecture, but whatever, to retrieve your supplies. Tape and the neatly folded swatches of fabric and your camera.

Photography isn’t your thing, but you need reference material.

When you return, he’s looking pensive, and dazzling. His arms fall tensely on the sides of the chair, but his hands dangle so gracefully, and the light catches his face and colors it golden- you are going to lose it when it comes to painting his eyes. They’re blue, but you see them as suns.

“You look great,” you say, and he blushes. You’re ready to pounce, right now.

The fabric is a little bit awkward. It has to be draped upon him- Bucky bristles at your actions in a way that tells you he’s never done anything even remotely like this before, but you persist, and he lets you.

“Get out of the chair really quick.”

“Okay.”

Bucky gets out of the chair. You hop up on it, to tape the corners of the fabric to the ceiling. It’s a flimsy attempt, but they hold and flutter just fine.

He takes you by the hand to bring you back down.

“Careful,” he says, as you make the daunting two-and-a-half-foot descent, and he squeezes your hand in his gloved one before you make him sit down again.

You are buzzing with electricity. Another point to him- that was smooth.

The loose ends of the fabric are tricky, You try at first to tape them to the back of the chair, moving back behind him to reach. Bucky’s head stays perfectly still, and the chiffon looks wrong. It looks weirdly stiff.

So you drape one on him like planned, sort of dripping down his shoulder in a bunched-up purple river, and let the other hang freely, swaying a little from the fragility of the tape.

You move back around to face him.

“This is perfect,” you say, and grin, because this is finally happening. “You look perfect.”

He’s staring all intensely again. You want to come close to him, tell him how lovely he looks, straight out of a dream. You’re so pretty, you almost say, but you have some semblance of rational thought left in you- and so you stay quiet.

The camera dangles from its strap around your neck. You take it in your hands and power it on. The settings are adjusted, and you fiddle with the shutter speed and focus and everything else before bringing it close to your eye, expecting this dream-

He’s all tense, again.

It’s the lens, you immediately think, even though that doesn’t really make sense. You look like- you look like him when he does his things. Lenses and targets and crosshairs. How is this thought so immediate?

You’re just trying to take a picture.

“Relax,” you say, and it does absolutely nothing.

“I am relaxed,” he bites out.

He’s really not. There’s something shifting in his face, something discontented, a brewing storm. His hands are starting to harshly curl into the armrests, digging at the upholstery, distorting the flowers.

The chiffon looms.

“Fix your hands. Like, move them- no, turn them back,”

You’re stooping over to fully capture him, almost ready to take a knee.

His hands flex and stay as they are, stressed and taut and not right, and the rest of him is still so-

You bring the camera down.

***

He’s in this ugly chair, surrounded by fabric, and you’re pretty and wearing a pale pink sweater, and you’re aiming a camera at him, for a picture, but he feels like a target.

White-hot adrenaline and cold and dark dread pull at both sides of him. He feels like a total mess.

Is this they all felt- how they all feel, when he is aiming at them? He tries to do things differently, now, but the tragedy still takes place, the trigger is still fired- the deed is still done. Karma, he thinks, retracing its path, coming back to bite him through you.

You’re frowning. He wants to apologize.

You take the camera down and let it dangle from the strap at your neck. He just had your hands in his- he wants them back and wants to get as far away from you as possible.

“This isn’t working,” you say, and straighten back up, placing your hands on your hips. You look powerful, and he might be trembling from clenching his jaw so hard. “You are not relaxed.”

“I’m not,” he agrees, and you sigh and fix him with a look that isn’t pity- he’d bolt if it were pity, but steely resolve.

You take the camera off your neck, and gently bend over to set it on the floor. Then you sit down beside it, wincing as your knee makes a noise, and giving him a bemused little smile that he wants to just-

Your head level with his knees as you sit, cross-legged. Hands splayed over your lower thighs, careless and carefree. Your posture slouches a bit, relaxing the way he is not, and it's relieving.

His hands grip the chair like a lifeline.

“Why isn’t this working?” You ask, more yourself than him. “You were so- nevermind. Or, Let’s… um, wait. Maybe- Can I?”

He’s always thought of you as so put-together, a born speaker, but now you’ve been stammering and stuttering all over his heart, and he doesn’t know what to do.

You reach out with your hand, hesitantly, wavering. The scar smiles pink.

He nods- his head nods, his body is moving outside of itself, and he feels sheltered and exposed, nearly covered in purple fabric and vulnerable and sitting above you, all of him bared for you to see. Hot and cold.

Your hand goes on his knee.

He’s so alarmed that he almost lashes out- he wants to think, but you’re giving him no time to-

Your other hand is reaching out, tugging at his own, and you bring yourself up to your knees and lean back on the balls of your feet, balancing. Your head is still below his chest and tilted so he can’t see your eyes, and you’re holding his hand like it’ll break.

There’s a dry-erase board fastened on the opposite wall, next to all of the other eclectic clutter. It’s filled in with a to-do list- the words COOK SOMETHING are scrawled at the top in angry red marker. He focuses on the words as you play with his fingers.

You gently trace a thumb over the ridges of his knuckles; he’s suddenly so ticklish that he flinches and chokes on a word that he doesn’t know how to say.

You nudge his hand over to the side, drape the fingers down, and your other hand is still burning his knee, setting him alight-

You’re molding him. Setting him to look how you want, manhandling him in the softest way possible. Should this feel violating? Rude? It feels good- purposeful. He’s letting you do this, and his heart is beating hard, but he can still hear your breathing and his breathing and the white noise of the traffic on the street below, stories away.

You take your hand off his knee, and nudge at his left hand, and he thinks now, how fucking stupid this is- if it’s his fucking hand, why does he wear this stupid fucking glove?

He goes to work it off and you understand, and if he wasn’t wanting so badly to be still for you, stay here as you take your picture, he would grab you by the necklace you’re wearing and drag you closer.

The glove is pulled off and dropped to the floor and the silver of his hand winks in the sunlight.

“Oh,” you say softly, and there’s a crack in your voice, and his voice would crack too, if you asked him to speak.

There’s this look on your face. He doesn’t know if you want to hold his hand or kiss it or put his fingers in your mouth, it looks like all three and he is all unfurled, too, because he is sitting back in this ugly armchair and you’re holding his hands again, and you’re backlit by the sun- like a vision sent straight from the sky.

You fix his hands.

This feels intimate- more intimate than kissing, or anything else. This feels like skipping steps.

After a moment, you pry your hands off of his, and lean back.

Wordlessly, you take the camera and stand up, and you fiddle it and back up, back to where you were at first, far away. Then you’re bringing it close to your eye, looking at him through a lens, and the shutter clicks once, twice.

You bring it back down.

“You got it?” He says, and his voice sounds rough- he sounds parched.

You look at its little screen and bite your lip. “Yeah.”

“Can you come here for a second?”

You look up at him and he’s glad that he couldn’t see your eyes before- they’re dark. “Yeah.”

The camera is tossed to the side, again, and you walk like you’re floating. The steps have been skipped, but Bucky will have to go back to them anyway- he doesn’t like to leave any stones unturned-

And so he waits until you’re close enough, and then tugs you down by your sweater- he doesn’t want to hurt you, and he’s reaching and reaching-

You laugh or smile or do something else sweet, but he’s too caught up to tell. He pulls you down to him, and surrounded by you and sunlight and fluttering purple chiffon, he kisses you.

[1zashreena1]

Diego Requests an Audience -1

18+, m/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary: Princess gets the rich bad boy equivalent of a call the next day from what she thought was a fairy tale of a one night stand.

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and 'the code is more like guidelines' outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

Mentions of drugs/alcohol use, no actual smut in this one but references to multiple forms of sexual activity with m/f dynamics, plus size woman+fit man, early stage sugar daddy vibes, bad boys with too much money and not enough impulse control, secondary OCs, excessive swearing (???), illegal business dealings... I mean, its DIEGO

A/N: Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me. If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I'm not a fan of "plot" so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

Constructive criticism is always welcome. I'm an old timer at Fandom but a baby content creator.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read @chelsfic Princess pieces first, that is the beginning.

https://chelsfic.tumblr.com/post/613340476058304512/princess-for-1zashreena1-diego-jimenez-x

https://chelsfic.tumblr.com/post/618297838815920128/princess-awakes-diego-jim%C3%A9nez-x-reader-ficlet

Last thing before Murder Panther, I promise!

Huge, tremendous, throbbing THANK YOU to @chelsfic​ !  My fanfic creator mommy, I could not and would not have done this without you or your devious reverse psychology  You're gonna have to thwack me super duper hard with a rolled up newspaper to get rid of me because ily.

Massive shoutouts to @symbiont13​ @rosee-sensuelle​ @bunnykjm​ @mandoplease​ @nicke0115​ (y’all know what you did)

You're sitting in your car on your lunch break listening to the same song for the seventh time in a row because that is a thing that you do. When you like something, you like it. The song has pounding bass, if you close your eyes you can almost imagine being in a club. You never did get to do much of that, your twenties were spent working two jobs and sleeping in your car sometimes, so your just passed birthday weekend escapade was really something else. You've never done anything like that before and it was-

Ding-DING

Your phone chirps with a text message from an unknown number. You peer at the screen with a furrowed brow, I don't know anyone in California, must be a wrong number. You open the message cautiously, who knows what kind of weirdness it might be. 

Good morning Princess

What. No. There is no way. Absolutely not possible. Un uhh. Nope.

You should come back to NYC. I want to have you again.

Holy fucking shit. Its really him. It's Diego. Its Diego of the big brown eyes, even bigger hands, and absolutely the biggest cock you have ever seen. Diego viciously-gorgeous stupefyingly-rich incredibly-dangerous exhaustingly-insatiable Jimenez. 

Whom you most definitely did not Google upon your return home only to discover that he is an international criminal. Yeah, he's criminally hot.

You really do wish that little voice in the back of your mind was helpful. 

Yes, but he was nice to you. Really not helpful. How many times did you even come that night? There was the bed, the floor, over the back of the sofa, the kitchen counter (which he referred to as 'snack time' because he ate, and wasn't that adorable), and then that kiss/invasion of your oral cavity before you left. After he made you breakfast. And gave you a pair of Ugg boots that were magically in your size because it was cold out. Okay, so he was REALLY nice.

Wait. I didn't give him my number, what the fuck.

Hi Diego

And you hit send before you can stop yourself. What in the actual fuck am I doing?

I knew you remembered me. 😉Come up here this weekend. I want you

He wants you. He said it himself. Oh my god oh my god oh my god. Like, want-want? He saw you naked in broad daylight so he definitely knows what you look like. I want you, your mind just keeps repeating it. Hold up, is an international drug lord, cartel boss, top ten FBI most wanted man texting you with emojis???

I hadn't really budgeted on another trip so soon

Is that too much? Are you revealing your pathetic poor-ness and he definitely will not be into that?

Please🤚 Do you want to come?

Oh lordy, but he knows exactly how to word things. 

… I mean, yeah. Preferably repeatedly

Okay, yes, you've always been a pervert but something about this man only encourages you. Surely it wasn't how he laughed every time you made an innuendo. 

Then I've got you 💵😙 Princess👑

Do you want a hotel or stay with me?

Harrisburg is your nearest airport, yes?

Never before in your life have you had cause to use the word 'Baller' but here you are. Is he seriously going to fly me to him? Am I seriously going to go? What level of booty call is this?

Penthouse. Spoil me 😏

And yes Harrisburg. What are you going to do, fly me up there?? Lol

At this point you might as well see how far you can milk this. Also, apparently he knows where you live?

...yes. I have a private jet. I'll text you the info. We're going to have fun little girl😈

Well damn. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You send the entire conversation to Lisa in three screenshots. She calls you at 4:37 while she knows you're still in the car and you spend the entire drive home screaming together as best friends do. 

"I can't believe him! A private jet? Oh my god girl, you better bring home some stacks!"

"I know! Like, what the fuuuuuuuuuck! Lisa, Lisa, oh my god, Lis, what the hell should I pack?! Oh no, oh shit, I don't have any sexy pajamas!" Your high is coming crashing down. Its Tuesday, so you have two whole days to figure this out.

Her laughter is so loud it makes your speakers crackle. "After what you told me from that first night it sounds like you better pack a case of lube and an ice pack!" She dissolves into hysterics.

Well, she's not wrong. "Dude! I was so sore, I couldn't walk for days. This shit is BYOIP: Bring Your Own Ice Pack!" Lisa shrieks while you howl with laughter. 

"Okay, okay. Meet me at Macaroni Grill and we'll formulate a strategic plan of attack over carbs. We have to go to the Frederick's of Hollywood outlet." Lisa is already crafting a plan. 

"See, this is why you're my BFF!" You proclaim before you whip across three lanes of traffic to change course. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You take way more clothing than you could possibly need for a weekend but better safe than sorry. The private jet looks like it came straight out of a music video, you're afraid to even think about how much this costs. Hell, he even paid to have your car valet parked in the only locked and guarded parking garage at this tiny regional airport. There are all kinds of snacks and drinks on the plane, there's even a tiny galley and what looks like a daybed. Noted for later.

The driver who picks you up at the airstrip in New York is Bastian and he is pleasantly surprised that you talk to him. You're pleasantly surprised at how nice Escalades are on the inside. The last time you were in this vehicle you were a little, ahem, distracted.

Diego is extraordinarily pleased to see you wearing the Ugg boots he gave you. The man is all growly innuendo and (mostly) gentlemanly manners, the contrasts are mind-meltingly hot. The weekend passes in a blur of a good time; orgasms, a stroll through some really expensive stores, more orgasms, two clubs on Saturday night, another set of orgasms (Did I really let him finger me in a VIP booth??), your first time trying weed, a sleepy orgasm in a jacuzzi tub (Wet Diego, so gorgeous), the best brunch of your life, another first by having orgasms while on top of a man, and, just before you leave on Sunday evening, a very nice Brahmin purse that you gawked at in one of the stores on Saturday. 

Yet again, Diego corners you by the elevator and attempts to climb down your throat before you're allowed to leave. You have no complaints.

~~~~~~~~~~

The very next Monday you get an extremely sweet text very early in the morning thanking you for coming (all puns intended). Wednesday brings a cookie bouquet to your front door with a note stating that you don't seem like a flowers kind of girl. Incredibly early on Saturday morning is another text, he sounds like he might be a little drunk, confessing that he wants to do it again. 

You forward the message to Lisa with your own addition:

Look, all I'm saying is I'm gonna take this top shelf dick and all the gifts that come with it for as long as he wants to give it to me

It only progresses from there.