#keep me in your thoughts as i plan for my first teaching job and contemplate what i will do if my children demand a tswift unit 😔😔😔😔

[officiallanxichen]

everyone posting about pouring one out for the retail workers on this day of a new Tswift album has forgotten about the other victims of this event (cool music teachers who will be forced to confront their duty to make their class relevant to their students vs their professional obligation to teach good music)

[shewrites02]

Green With Envy |Zoro X Reader|

Jealous Zoro x reader

Zoro x Crewmate!Reader

A/N: This is for @dinuxia-bhm, Who requested Zoro Jealous of the shitty cook. This is my very first One Piece fic request so I hope I did it justice.

Request : Open

Word Count : 5.3k

Leave a comment if you enjoy ! :)

"If you stare any longer , you may actually burn the image of them into your brain." Nami teased. She bumped the swordsman with her elbow , only then drawing his attention to her presence. "

Do you plan on making a move or were you hoping to intimidate her into a relationship?"

Nami takes a seat at the table next to the pirate who also awaits the start of breakfast. His eyes glance over at her , contemplating if he has any harsh words for the navigator... He has half a mind to tell her to mind her own business. Relationship? He scoffs at the notion. The swordsman knew nothing of feelings or love. The taboo, he quickly determined, too ridiculous to even discuss. Zoro only huffs in disagreement then goes back to watching the displays of affection amongst you and the cook.

You were teaching Sanji how to make an authentic breakfast from your village. The cook had begged you for weeks to share your favorite recipe with him. Even offering to spend his own berries gathering all the ingredients.

"Sanji, why do you keep asking me about this?" You inquired on the third week.

" I know you've only been sailing with us for a couple months, but I'm sure you noticed how hard it is to be away from home. " He took the cigarette out his lips then ashed it on the railing before giving you a sincere smile. "I just want to be able to make you something if you get homesick."

It was difficult to decline such a heartfelt request.

"Here. Try it now."

You blew on the spoon hoping to cool it down. When most of the steam subsided , you extended your arm bringing the spoon to Sanji's lips. You steadied his chin with your free hand being sure not to spill the hot liquid on his face. He hummed in pleasure at the taste.

"I think you have outdone even me on this one, my love." Sanji grinned proudly.

"As if I could ever!"

You pushed your hand into Sanji's chest jokingly shoving him away from you. The cook grabs your wrist before you can pull away, drawing you in to plant a tender kiss on your cheek.

"Darling, you truly did an amazing job. Thank you for showing me."

The sight made Zoro's stomach turn. He watched how Sanji's hands fell to your waist when he moved around you to navigate the kitchen. Notice how you didn't shy away from his touch. How you actually offered a sweet smile to him in return . The marimo's body strained at every passing touch you and Sanji exchanged. His taut muscles are too tense to contract any further at the sight of Sanji's lips against your skin. "Why does he get to touch you?" The thought comes as a surprise to him.

"Here Zo , you wanna try ?" You asked.

You turn to him with a new spoonful of jam, blowing on it just as you had done for Sanji . You had taken notice of the swordsman's observations of you . Watch the way his eyes had followed your hands to Sanji's chin when you fed him . Zoro had sat at the table all morning supervising your lesson with the cook. You figured you could offer him that attention too.

"Marimo is too dense to appreciate such elegant flavors. " Sanji responds before Zoro has an opportunity to.

"Fuck you! It's only your shit cooking I don't appreciate!"

While the boys bicker you walk over to the table spoon in hand. Sanji had hurled another insult at the ex bounty hunter , but the delicate feeling of your fingers wrapping around his chin stopped any words Zoro may have had in return. There was a small pause where his eyes lingered on yours . Searching for something . Malice? Contempt? You didn't know. But When he found what he was looking for , or lack thereof , his lips parted.

"Is it good? Do you like it?" You asked using your thumb to wipe away the excess from the side of his mouth.

"Yeah..." His gaze shifts away from you. "Way better than the cooks."

You giggled at his words, allowing yourself to wallow in the heat that filled your chest at his praise. Amused at the small smirk that laid on his lips once he had gotten what he wanted. Your attention. You bend to bring your mouth to his ear.

"Silly swordsman, I have enough attention for the both of you." You whispered .

"I- that's not-"

The words trip and stumble out his mouth never once finding their feet. You could see the sweat begging to bead on Zoro's brow as his eyes shifted about in panic, looking for anything coherent to mumble back. The stoic pirate reduced to a fumbling teenager at your words. When he can come up with nothing, he decides to stop speaking. Annoyed, he crosses his arms against his chest and turns his head to face the navigator. He is met with the knowing grin on her face.

-

Your eyes scanned the room while your fingers aimlessly tapped against the sake bottle. You sat at the bar top alone , waiting for the rest of your crew-mates to join you . You should have known better than to think any of them would be on time. Sticking to the plan was not something the Strawhats were particularly versed in. Especially when they were all left to their own devices on a new island. You sigh, dragging your free hand down your face , attempting not to ruin your makeup in the process. It was beginning to get difficult to wait. The eyes of the pirate's in the bar watched you hungrily, and you feared one may try to satiate their appetite. Eyes still roaming the room, you hoped to see a familiar face.

"A pretty lady like yourself shouldn't be sitting all alone in a packed bar. " A man announces.

It's their captain. His arm is extended, hand out offering you a beer as he approaches. You smile, kindly declining. You hold up your own bottle, shaking it slightly to indicate its fullness as means of justification . The man nodded in understanding, but didn't leave. In fact he took the prolonged silence as an invitation to take a seat alongside you.

"Are you waiting on somebody?"

He casually rests his hand on your thigh as though he has already claimed you . You shift in your seat, turning so your legs would fall beneath the bar top. You're hoping the man would sense your discomfort at his proximity. His hand does not move. Instead his smile grows wider. Taking your movement as the green light to slowly drag his hand up toward your waist.

"My boyfriend is meeting me."

The lie slips past your lips with ease at the sudden rush of adrenaline. You go to swat the man's hands from you . The previous statement should be enough for him to understand you are not his to claim . The smile he wears drops. His hand doesn't move. Despite your physical protest. Your breath hitches in your throat at the growing realization of the situation you're in.

"He shouldn't have left you here all alone." The man's voice isn't above a whisper

His warning is gone just as quickly as it came , but your fear still lingers in the air. Your eyes bounce wryly from the door to the pirate who continued to creep into your space. "They're coming!" Your mind loops the words as if they were an incantation.

Then, as if to answer your fervent prayers, the bar door is shoved open. Luffy is the first of your crew to enter, his first mate trails behind him. You can see Zoro searching for you in the crowd, as the rest of the Strawhats messily file in after him. It doesn't take long for his eyes to find yours.

You don't have to say a word . The swordsman can sense your discomfort from where he stood. He saw the fear that engulfed the glimmer that resides in your eyes. He watched how you kept your arms held close to your body, afraid the man would reach for you. Notice how rigidly you cross your legs over one another . Then he sees the man's hand rubbing up and down your thigh. The swordsman starts making his way over to you, hand on the hilt of Shusui.

Zoro drew his sword placing the blade at the base of the man's wrist. The music in the bar stopped. The patrons are silent. Everybody's eyes fall on the three of you. Most filled with fear, your friends with confusion. But all watch the same as the conflict unfolds.

"Move your hand, before I slice it off."

There is a brief pause before the man laughs. A genuine belly hugging laugh at Zoro's imminent threat. Moments later the other men join in, egging their captain on.

"Is this the boyfriend you were talking about?"' The man asks, ignoring the ex bounty hunter. His eyes don't leave your body. Neither does his hand. "You almost got your lady in a lot of trouble , leaving her all alone in a bar like this."

Zoro's scowl deepens at the pirate's words. "Boyfriend? You had told the man he was your boyfriend?" The pieces slowly fall into place as the swordsman assesses the scene surrounding you. Alone, you sat in a bar full of pirates. The only other women present are staff of the small business. Zoro's eyes glance over at yours. His grip tightens around the hilt at the sight of your fearful expression. You had told the pirate he was boyfriend. Zoro finally understands.

"What kind of man would treat his girlfriend that way?"

"What kind of man uses his power to strong arm women? " The swordsman responds.

The question coals in the raging fire that was already roaring in the ex bounty hunter. The pirate had thought you were his, yet touched you anyway. Decided you were his to claim. To conquer. Then Justified his actions using the lack of Zoro's presence as an excuse. As if his absence was reason enough to encroach your space, and have you trembling in fear. Now the pirate captain had the audacity to question the type of man he was. It enrages Zoro.

"I'm not going to repeat myself."

"Strong arm?" The captain stifles another laugh. His eyes finally look over to meet the swordsman. "We would've handled princess here real gentle."

The pirate clenches his fingers around you then goes to inch his hand further up your thigh. Zoro has seen enough. There is a sharp yelp preceding the sound of him sheathing his weapon. Your harasser's hand falls to the floor beneath your feet. Blood spews from his severed arm. You want to scream, but a sharp gasp falls from your lips instead. Almost instinctively Zoro's hand reaches out to grasp yours at the reaction.

You had seen Zoro cut down many men before, but being inches away from his blade as he does so was an entirely different experience. As you felt the warmth of the pirate's blood seeping into your dress, and wiped at the splatters of blood that littered your skin, you couldn't help but be a bit awestruck at his strength.

The captain's crew members rush to his aid as his screams continue. Zoro lets you squeeze his hand while you cautiously hop down from the bar stool, trying your best not to slip on the blood that covered the floor. He nudges you along to follow him. The only precursor you receive before the two of you walk into the single stalled bathroom at the back of the bar.

The small room didn't allot the two of you much personal space. If anything it forced you two into dangerously close proximity. As you stood in front of the sink , back to the mirror, you could feel Zoro's knees lightly brush yours when he reached to grab the paper towel off the roll. He bundles it up then brings it to your cheek. You take note of the small hesitation he makes before his hand lands on your chin . He licks the wad before swiping away at your cheek. A poor attempt to rid you of the scumbag's blood.

"I'm sorry." The words feel unfamiliar as they fall from the swordsman's mouth.

Your eyebrows raise to your temples. In all the months you had been sailing with the Strawhats , you have never heard Zoro apologize. You wonder what made this occasion so different. the slight widening of your eyes gives way to your surprise. Zoro notices and continues.

"I should have been on time."

"Don't be sorry Zoro. You saved me, thank you."

You bring your hand up to rest over his before smiling up at him. The look in your eyes, the one he had seen you give to Sanji so many times, was finally from his doing. His heart raced at your expression. He felt himself begin to sweat as the warmth of your stare spread across his skin. Zoro couldn't understand the physical response from his body. Part of him wanted to run. To flee the threat that seemed to be your piercing gaze. But a bigger part of him wanted to bask in its glow, doing anything imaginable to keep the sun out just a little while longer.

"Although " You giggle at the silly hunch. "I would have thought it would be Sanji to save me."

Your words bring raging storm clouds that wash Zoro's warmth away. He rolls his eyes. As though the notion was too implausible to even be considered. He brings the paper towel back to your cheek then speaks.

"The dumbass cook can barely save himself !"

"Is the moss head jealous?" You tease. " I'm happy it was you."

A loud bang on the flimsy wooden door interrupts the swordsman before he can respond. Seconds later it flings open, shaking on its creaky hinges. The sniper stands on the other side wide eyed.

"It's time to go!"

When you reunite with your crew there really is no need to explain the urgency of the situation. The pirate captain laid unconscious on the ground with a makeshift tourniquet wrapped around his arm. Apparently the crew had not taken kindly to Zoro's treatment of their captain, and seemed to have every intention of taking it out on the rest of the crew.

"C'mon guys there is surely no reason to make this much fuss over one hand." Brooke had tried to reason, his efforts in vain. The pirate crew wanted a fight.

"You pieces of shit!" Sanji swept his leg, thrashing a considerable number of men through the bar's singular window. "How dare he have the audacity to treat my darling , sweet love with such disrespect. And now you stand here trying to avenge your captain's actions... I won't allow it to go unpunished."

Sanji had enough fury in his heart to take on the entirety of the scumbag's lackeys. A fight was the only way to alleviate the emotions that were sure to get the better of him. In under three moves the cook had the no named pirate crew looking just as bad as their captain. The situation was settled.

-

"So the swordsman saves the day." Sanji says dejectedly as he brings the glass to his lips to take a drink. "At least you're okay."

You can't help the giddy smile that appears on your face at his mention. A bitter side effect of the alcohol. The navigator had suggested none of you go home empty handed after the chaos that ensued at the bar. Insinuated you had deserved a treat after all your troubles. There were no objections. At first you can only giggle at the cook's words. Butterfly's bloom in your chest when you think about the swordsman's delicate touch against your skin just moments after cutting a man down... for you. A slight chills crawls down your spine. You take a significant swig from the whiskey bottle in your hand hoping the burn of the alcohol sliding down your throat may warm you up.

"He's an interesting man , Uh?" You pause to glance towards the deck. "Zoro."

"That's one word."

Sanji's curly brows raise at your question. He turns to look at you, but you don't meet his gaze. You're looking out at the party . The cook watches your eyes while they search and scatter. He is trying to assess their intent, and then it dawns on him. You were looking for him. The Swordsman.

"You wouldn't happen to have a crush on mosshead would you?"

Your eyes dart back to Sanji , then away to look at the sea. Crush wasn't nearly a strong enough word to describe how you felt about Roronoa Zoro. Sometimes you would switch night watches with Nami just for the opportunity to watch the swordsman train in the crows nest. Although most of the time had been spent in silence , there was still something special about being in his presence. But Zoro's stoicism made it difficult to discern his feelings. You had thought him so unconcerned with your presence for so long that you had resorted to blatant teases and flirting with him in the first place. If only to fluster him. You craved acknowledgment from Zoro, in the way your lungs craved oxygen. desperately.

"I have been obsessed with the swordsman since the day Luffy dragged me onto the sunny... "

"Obsessed uh?"

Sanji lets out a genuine laugh at the words. Amused by the way the alcohol loosens your tongue. He had always taken notice of your affinity toward Zoro. Witnessed how differently you spoke to him than the others. Your crewmates had easily labeled you a flirt, but the way you riled Zoro had been different than the jokingly stated endearments you passed the rest of them.

Sanji glances around you to spot the swordsman on the deck. As he suspects the green haired pirate is surveilling them. When their eyes meet Zoro turns his head to stare at the antics of their captain, feigning interest. "If the dumbass mosshead had even the slightest ounce of emotional intelligence the two of you would be happy now." Sanji is surprised when the thought bumps into his head.

"Well, darling" Sanji wraps his arm around your shoulder to draw you into him. You rest your head on his chest, then he continues to speak. "I have half a mind to say marimo likes you too."

The swordsman lays against the mast , feet crossed in front of him downing his third bottle of the night. He doesn't understand his anger at your actions; This scalding feeling that envelops him at the way you rest your head on Sanji's chest encourages him to drink more. He tries to dismiss his thoughts, convince himself that he doesn't care, but they bombard him like a buster call.

"Why did the cook get to hold you?" "He was the one who saved you. Why are you batting your eyelashes at Sanji and not him ?" "What else does he have to do to keep your attention?" "What about the shit cook was so much better than him?"

Zoro sees you part from the cook, and watches as you trek back to the party. He assumes you'll rejoin Nami and Robin, considering the tipsy women are calling your name so fervently. His brows raise when you pass them giving a placating wave. You're making your way over to him.

"Don't tell me you're already done drinking Zoro. I hadn't known you to be such a lightweight." You jest, pointing over to the 3 empty bottles that sat alongside him.

Zoro smirks before reaching for the half empty bottle that was clutched in your fingers. He wraps his large hand around yours then guides you to bring the bottle to his lips so he can take a drink. When he is done he wipes the excess from his lips using the back of his hand.

"You done smiling at the cook?"

He releases his hold on you then turns his head so your eyes won't meet his. He's staring at the sea as if it will answer his question. You mock a gasp bringing your free hand to your chest. Then you giggle.

"Roronoa! You're so jealous."

"No I'm not!"

You bring your hand to Zoro's cheek guiding his eyes back to yours. You offer him a sly smirk before you bend at the waist to meet his face. You're so close Zoro can feel your breath on his cheeks.

"Yes you are mossy. So spoiled, wanting my attention all to yourself. It's okay, I'm here now."

Zoro jerks his chin away from your grasp. His face scrunches into a frown. It's difficult for him to discern if it's anger, or embarrassment that's swelling inside him. The words fall from his lips before he has a chance to assess them.

"I'm not jealous!... I don't even know what the shitty cook sees in you."

Zoro wishes he could snatch the words back before they hit your ears. Hates how you wince at what he says. The way your smile dropped while you ruminated on his words. There is no more sunshine in your tear pooled eyes, only storm clouds. He knows it before the first tear has fallen. He's gone too far. You storm away from him.

-

"You made her cry." Sanji states as he pulls the cigarette for his lips. He puffs the smoke out then turns to Mosshead for an answer.

Zoro is in the crow's nest hiding from the peering eyes of his crewmates. Surely the cook hadn't been the only one to notice your early departure from the party only moments after the conversation you two had. The others were bound to have questions of their own soon. None of which Zoro cared to answer.

"I didn't mean to." Is all the swordsman can muster. The image of your broken hearted eyes are seared into his brain. Why did he say that? He wants to bang his head against the wall at the thought. Sanji rolls his eyes at the excuse. Not assuaged by the swordsman's words. Intent had no significance in Sanji's mind, all that mattered was that he was the source of your tears.

"What did you say to her?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Bullshit."

Zoro walked toward the dumbbells that laid on the floor . He decides lifting is a better option than repeating his misgivings. He had no intention of admitting to the cook that he himself had been the source of Zoro's rage.

"Why do you care?" Zoro snaps back . He's deflecting.

"Because I care about her. She's cried herself to sleep and it's your fault!"

"If you care so much you fix it!"

"I wish I could marimo, I would love nothing more than to take that darling lady away from you."

Zoro scrunched his face into yet another frown. From him ? Zoro had never believed you his to begin with . Had that been the case he would've cut the chef down ages ago for his fleeting touches and stares.

"Take her, I don't care."

At this the cook let out a loud laugh that threatened to escape the confines of the crow's nest. He genuinely couldn't believe the swordsman could be so oblivious of his own feelings. When Sanji catches his breath, he can't help his devilish smile.

"... So you wouldn't mind if I climb into her bed tonight? You know she asked me."

Zoro's jaw clenches. He lowers the dumb bells away from his chest then drops them to the floor. Now his eyes meet the cook. Sanji takes it as an invitation to continue.

"I think she wanted the comfort after y'all's ... run in."

More fuel is added to Zoro's already racing thoughts. This time, he could not convince himself he was unbothered. Couldn't find a deep place to push the discomfort. The cook always got the best parts of you. Parts the swordsman so desperately wanted to save for himself. Zoro was sick of it.

"Don't touch her."

A sharp chuckle falls from Sanji's lips at the irony. Zoro couldn't admit to how he feels about you, but is standing there contemplating cutting him down at the mere thought of letting him into your bed. How could marimo be so stupid?

"Yeah mosshead, You don't care about her at all." Sanji mocked.

"You don't know what you're talking about?" Zoro scoffs.

What does the shitty cook know of his feelings, when he himself could not sort them out.

Sanji can only shake his head in disappointment. He brings his fingers to the bridge of his nose to pinch it slightly before letting out a dismissive sigh. Oh how'd he wished to take your mind away from the swordsman. Wished it was he who was the object of your affections, but the cook knew you would never be obsessed with him in the same way you were marimo. As painful as that may be.

"Zoro, if you lose the girl you're in love with because you're too stupid to figure out your feelings..." He takes a drag from his cigarette "You're a bigger dumbass than I thought."

"Why do you give a shit if things work out?t" Zoro snarls. He wonders why Sanji has suddenly taken his feelings into so much consideration.

"Honestly mossy I don't. You don't deserve her. but she loves you and she deserves to be happy. You'll make her happy. That's all I really want... "

-

Sanji set the plate down on the vanity. He peers over at you wrapped in the thick comforter. You had allowed it to engulf you, face and all. You had not moved since he had come to see you last. That was at breakfast. Still you faced the wall with your back to him. There is a slight hesitation in his step before he walks further into the room.

"You sure everything is okay?" He inquires for the second time.

"I'm fine Sanji. Really." You attempt to sound reassuring.

The cook nods in understanding. He is not convinced , but will not ask for a third time . Instead he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. A sigh of relief leaves your lips. You didn't want to tell Sanji the truth. That you were too embarrassed to face the swordsman. That his rejection looped continuously through your mind, making it impossible to sleep. Had Zoro really meant what he said ? Were you just making a fool of yourself this whole time? The thought makes you shudder.

Sanji pushes his way through the door to enter the kitchen. He is met with the eyes of his crewmates who waited for him at the table in anticipation . He shakes his head. Nami and Robin release their sighs of disappointment .

"I wonder why she won't join us." Robin inquires.

"First breakfast, now lunch... She must really be feeling bad." Nami continues.

"I can go check on her... " Luffy chimes in "maybe she'll tell me what's wrong."

Luffy goes to grab a handful of the chopped fruit Sanji had placed on the table . Sanji swats his captain's hands away before sitting another plate down, this time sandwiches. Zoro has now entered the kitchen hearing the tale end of the Strawhat's woes. He feels the way the cooks eye borough into his skull, knowing that they're scowling at him. Zoro doesn't look his way. He knows that it is his fault you've gone missing . He doesn't need the cook to remind him.

"Marimo is going to check on her." Sanji announces.

The room falls quite as eyes are now on the swordsman. Nami cringes in disbelief, shaking her head vigorously.

"I don't think that's a good id-"

"Don't worry, he'll fix it." Sanji ends Nami's sentence before she has the chance to.

His crew eyes him with unsure stares. Zoro had never been one to offer much comfort, even in the most dark of times. They didn't see how he'd be the answer to their troubles. Sanji does not elaborate on his statement. He offers his crew a smile before setting the homemade chips on the table and announcing lunch is ready.

-

"Sanji , you don't have to keep coming in here every fifteen minutes to check on me. " You say to the sound of knocking at the bedroom door.

You pull the blankets back to face who you thought was the cook. Zoro stood there in his place. His back against the bedroom door like he was still contemplating if he should stay or not. You sit up at the feeling of your heart shooting to your throat.

"What are you doing here?"

"You haven't come out all day." He responds as if that answers your question. When you don't say anything back , he assumes he should continue. "They're worried about you."

Zoro's hand falls to the nape of his neck, he rubs sheepishly then looks down at the floor. You roll your eyes, dissatisfied with his answer. You pull the blankets up to cover your face then turn your back to him.

"Go away Zoro."

It hurts him to hear, although he knows he has no right to be upset. When he heard you didn't show up for breakfast, he'd felt worse than when the words initially fell from his mouth. Truth be told he had hid in the crow's nest as long as he could trying not to run into you this morning . Thought that he was giving you space to breathe without his watchful eye.

"I- I was jealous... of you and the cook."

Zoro pauses waiting for a reaction from you to see if he should keep talking or not. There's an unusual shake of fear in his voice you don't recognize. You sit up to face him once again.

"I was mad and I took it out on you. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

This has made two apologies from the ever prideful pirate.

"You hurt my feelings." Your voice is soft , fragile as you respond.

"I know..." The swordsman pushes himself from the door to take a step towards you. "If I could eat the words I would."

You gaze into his eyes for a moment, searching for an ounce of deception. You know you won't find it . If the swordsman had not meant his words, he would not have gone out of his way to say them. But still you look to reassure yourself.

"Zoro I don't understand makes you so angry about my relationship with Sanji?"

"I don't like it when he touches you." The swordsman confesses.

You smirk at his candor. All this over the playful touches the cook had thrown your way. It was almost too sweet to believe you had the swordsman so twisted at the sight of you sharing your affection. You swing your legs so they fall off the edge of the bed. You're staring at him intently. Zoro is nervous under your gaze . You can tell by the way he fiddles with his fingers aimlessly.

"You don't like when Sanji touches me ?" You repeat. You pause to offer the swordsman a chance to take back his words. But he does not renege.

"...I don't like when anyone touches you."

Your giggle is involuntary. The smirk on your lips is now a full blown smile. Despite the pain that had come from it, you couldn't help but love the thought of the swordsman jealous over you. Before you were just joking , but to hear the words from Zoro's mouth himself was truly blissful.

"Roronoa... Do you have a crush on me?"

"Crush on you?" He ponders like it's the first time he's thought about it. "I don't think that's a strong enough word."

"No?"

He shakes his head taking a step toward you . His hand meets your cheek. He is hesitant. Thinks you may pull away from his touch. But the swordsman is pleasantly surprised when you lean into his hand.

"Sanji says I'm in love with you."

Your heart skips at the word. Love. It sounded so sweet coming from Zoro lips. You wondered what you would have to do to hear him say it again.

"Yeah? And what do you think?"

"I think he might be right."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N : I stared at this so long, I might have it memorized at this point lol. I'm not sure if I'm happy with it , but it is a labor of love nonetheless.

{If you would like to be added to my tag list lemme know! I would Love to have you}

[cantwritethetword]

(2023) TickleTober Day 8: Alien - More Human Than You Think

Fic Descript - The Doctor maintains that being tickling is a strictly human thing. While Rory is quick to accept it, Amy knows him too well.

~A/N  - BLAME @carrie-tate FOR THIS HER 11TH DOCTOR ART HAS REIGNITED MY LOVE OF THIS TRIO AND INSPIRED ME TO WRITE THIS FIC (ngl heavily based on this art)

These guys were my first introduction to doctor who when I was like 8 so they are very very important to me I love them, so hopefully I write this well ^^

(also feel it's important for everyone to know that I watched this wonderful montage the whole time I was writing it lmao)

- Enoy! ~

Tag List: @fullsongphilosopher

Masterpost Link 

TickleTober Masterpost

"I keep thinking I'm used to you." Rory said with a light chuckle.

The Doctor popped up from where he was working. "What's that supposed to mean?" He asked with a scrunched face, wielding a modified hair dryer and what looked like washing machine tablets.

Clearly the irony was lost on him.

The TARDIS needed a little TLC (in the Doctor's words), and so the team had taken the rare opportunity of peacefully floating through space to get some adjustments done. The Doctor was banging and tinkering at the console, Rory was watching, and Amy had gone to take a shower (because apparently she had no desire to listen to the Doctor's consistent yapping as he worked).

"Well, I've been here for long enough to feel like I know you." Rory explained. "But then you go do something... odd... And it's like the first day I met you all over again."

"Are you forgetting Rory," The Doctor half-shouted over the whirring of the hair dryer. "I'm an over 900 year old Time Lord from another planet, of course I'm odd. The best people are."

Rory softly tilted his head, taking a moment to fully appreciate that perhaps it was the overall circumstance that was weird rather than the person in front of him, before circling around the console closer to his friend.

"That looks better." The Doctor sat upright and clicked off his tool, turning to face Rory. "What do you think? After this I've just got a few more tweaks and we can be off again."

"You look human though." Rory continued from his previous train of thought. "You eat human food, you dress in human clothes, surely you aren't completely Alien."

"I'm just as Alien to you as you are to me." The Doctor chirped, scurrying over to the next stage in his TARDIS-repair plan.

As he moved, however, he failed to realise the space (or lack thereof) between his head and the edge of the console. He let out a tight-lipped groan as he rubbed the impact site on the top of his forehead.

"And you feel pain like us." Rory added, jumping to add the spontaneous example that would back up his point to the list.

The Doctor shot him an agitated look. "Don't they teach you bedside manner at your nursing job? I near enough break my skull and all you do is point out that we both feel pain? Most beings do!"

Rory, ignoring the Doctor's initial complaining and instead focusing on his last statement, nodded in contemplation. "I suppose they do..."

"I sUpPoSe tHeY- ugh..." The Doctor rolled his eyes, accepting that he wasn't getting any sympathy from the usually most sympathetic person on the TARDIS. "Any other questions? Or can I get back to doing something important."

"Hmm..." Rory scratched the back of his head. "Are you ticklish or anything?"

The Doctor froze momentarily, before jumping to his feet with a spin and a smile. "Nope, that's unique to you humans."

Rory gave him a doubtful but unsure look.

"Honestly, if anything you lot are the weird ones with your... hyperactive nervous systems... and... involuntary laughter responses..." The Doctor rambled, but his flow was a little more disjointed than usual.

"I guess so..." Rory nodded, but he still couldn't shake the memory of the Doctor's odd reaction.

But, there was little time to think about it.

"Has he bored you to death yet?" Amy said with a grin from the stairway.

"Hey!" The Doctor complained as Rory laughed. "I'm the most quality entertainment out there."

Rory opened his arm for Amy to tuck herself under it. "The Doctor was just telling me how weird we humans are."

Amy gave him a look. "You're one to talk Mr Bow-Tie."

The Doctor tugged on the aforementioned accessory. "Bow ties are-."

"Bow ties are cool, right." She finished for him, rolling her eyes. "My point still stands, how exactly are we the weird ones?"

As Rory opened his mouth, the Doctor jumped in first. "Well, weird might be a strong word. Humanity is wonderful and beautiful and terrible and strange and-"

"We're ticklish." Rory interrupted. "But that was the only example he could give me so I'm not sure I-"

"Oh you're not ticklish, Doctor?" Amy asked halfway through Rory's statement, but something in her grin made The Doctor suspect she knew the answer already.

"Uh..." The Doctor rubbed his neck. "Well I... Well..."

"He said it was just a human thing." Rory offered a response, oblivious to the rising tension surrounding the Doctor.

"Is it now?" Amy took a few steps closer to the Time Lord, her face trying to seem innocent and confused. "Just humans?"

The Doctor stumbled backwards, his hands fumbling over themselves. "Well, perhaps sometimes... some Time Lords may... may be a little more uh... susceptible to uh... to things like that."

Amy continued her devastatingly slow pursuit around the console of the TARDIS, leaving Rory on the opposite side. "And would you be one of them?"

Rory finally caught on as the Doctor backed up towards him. "Wait you lied to me?!"

"Rory it was nothing personal I just-" The Doctor babbled nervously, his hands now forming a semi-protective barrier between him and his pursuer.

Amy made eye contact with her husband, that evil grin still plastered on her face. "Rory, how do we feel about liars?"

Without a word, Rory stepped behind the Doctor and hooked his arms under the Doctor's shoulders.

"Waitwaitwaitwait no!" The Doctor shrieked, wriggling in Rory's hold. "Plehease!"

"Huh..." Amy paused, an inquisitive look on her face. "Humans normally wait for the tickling to start before we start laughing... Is that a Time Lord thing too?"

The Doctor whined. "Yohou know that's not truhue!"

Rory chuckled from behind. "You're not really in a position to talk about truth right now."

The Doctor was about to argue when Amy lunged, lightly scribbling her fingernails all over the poor Doctor's torso. He inhaled sharply, the effort of containing his reactions forcing out squeaking noises.

"Seems pretty ticklish to me." Rory commented, struggling with the sudden responsibility of keeping the Doctor upright.

Amy smirked, pausing her attack. "Oh, I don't know... He's not laughing anymore, maybe he was right..."

"I'm-" The Doctor panted out. "Always... right-"

Before he even had the chance to finish there were ten fingers digging under his armpits.

His eagerness to jump at the opportunity to talk after being unable to for the last ten seconds was exactly what Amy was counting on, and the sudden unexpected attack brought out a shriek of helpless cackles from the poor Doctor.

With a grin, Amy looked up at her husband. "Now this is what I'd call ticklish."

"OHOKAY FINE FINE FIHIHINE!" The Doctor yelped in between giggles. "I'M TICKLIHISH! JUST LET ME GOHOHO!"

Rory and Amy locked eyes, smirking.

"What do you think Rory?" Amy asked, letting her fingers skitter up and down the Doctor's bony ribcage. "Have we proved our point?"

Rory hummed in thought, drawing out his response to mess with the Time Lord as long as humanly possible. "I might be convinced, but he still hasn't apologised for lying..."

"I DIHIDN'T HAVE A CHOHOHOICE!!!"

Switching to drilling her thumbs into the Doctor's hip bones in response to his claim, Amy gave him a fake-confused look. "That doesn't sound like an apology."

Rory laughed, while the Doctor scrambled to put together something that sounded like speech through his laughter. "FIHIHINE OKAHAY I'M SOHOHORRY!"

Amy withdrew her fingers as Rory guided the Doctor to the floor, letting him rest his head on Rory's leg.

"I think you're more human than you think." Rory chuckled, patting the Doctor's shoulder.

"Right." The Doctor glared up at him, but there was a hint of softness behind his eyes. "Can we go now?"

[abueverything]

Chapter 1 part 4

My connection with money goes back as far as I can remember. See I come from a family that believes in taking care of the young ones but once you hit eighteen you’re on your own. As much as I mom will never admit my grandmother played an important part in our lives as an extension or a life credit source especially in the years when my father moved out and my mom assumed the single mother role. My memories are faint but I do recall such words as thank you for helping and my mom having conversations how tough it is for her and she could use a little help. The elder at that time were many and didn’t mind helping the eldest daughter who gave birth to the eldest grandchild and eldest and only great newphew from my mothers side. The family is small now but at that time there was like three or four generations living at one time. I would receive money for my birthday, Christmas, school shopping and I would always make out like a fat rat when I went to New York to visit Grandma, Grandpa and all the family that was in New York. Sometimes I come back with like four to six hundred dollars. Those were the good old days. I learned about the value of a dollar quick because my financially savvy mother who worked while supporting me and my father worked at a bank so I had a bank account since like seven or eight or maybe even earlier. I remember day like saying lets order pizza and I’ll pay for I remember going half with her on a 38 or 40 9 inch tv which was like cool at the time (this was back in the nineties). When my father was around when I was much younger he had a good job because she was a smart man, an engineer to be exact. I remember him giving dollars bills for the hell of it and the value moved up to fives than tens then twenties. I thought I would get fifties but it never happened.

For school they always made sure I had money to go to school with mainly to eat and they would give me like five dollars day. Well when I wanted something I would go hungry so I could save and splurge on what I liked. I remember buying Tupac cd All Eyez On Me and Notorious B.I.G. Life After Death. Without the help of somebody teaching me I learned how to save and manage money so I didn’t blow it all at one time. That was truly my first hustle saving and managing my money. My second experiencing with hustling came in my junior year when I was in between a school transfer. I found out my coach was keeping letters from me and I had enough so I decided to corner my mom into transferring school explaining my basketball career was on the line. I ended up at a neighborhood school though it wasn’t my home school. I fell on hard times and decided to buy like 24 packs of soda sell a can for fifty cents. Hey I must have been doing something right because the kid who sat across from me started doing the same thing.

Now that I look back on those situations God was always preparing for the situation I’m in today. If you told me that I was going to end up in a state hospital barely escaping life in prison without the possibility of parole I would of told you what the hell are you smoking. My destiny was in the NBA on the bench or getting little minutes or at the least overseas getting a few millions. But you can’t escape God’s will and his plans if that is what he has in store for you. You see God is in everybody life but for some he is a little more active and I will take that because if he is not active in your life than you have no purpose and without him who will save you and come to your aid. Each situation between me and money was grooming me to become the business savvy individual I am today. Each situation was a learning tool and don’t think that I just live it than understood. No I had to reflect, meditate, contemplate all that stuff to truly understand how all that I went through hand was going to go through was business in its smallest form. Now I will get to my earlier street experiences in the street life in the next chapter, but it is important to see that your life is not just yolo (you only live once) or it means nothing. Life is about evolution and growing while learning. See you only take the wisdom you acquire with you to the next life and everything else falls to the waist side. So one may say what wisdom is there in business. Business itself is not he wisdom the wisdom is in the concepts and philosophy I acquired. You see people say there is no way to create a utopia society but I beg to differ. I could create a utopia and a thriving one all from business and commerce. I mean imagine a place where everybody eats, no one is starving and everybody can get what they need to survive while the government still functions and takes in money. I know you can’t imagine that because as of know they use business as a tool to control and discriminate and create wealth gaps. One of my many skills I acquired was I’m able to look at the structure of activity of the business and tell you how to duplicate what they are doing on a more efficient level, I can tell you how they are probably getting their money, or I can tell you how to undercut them. This wasn’t made possible doing business from a young age this was made possible by understanding the concepts, and practices that made up my business activities. I look at my life right now and as an adult I only had one mentor and that was only less than a year so everything that I got and acquired as far as understanding and comprehending came from doing than meditating on it and reflecting. Meditation is pretty strong in the right hands.

[tendouluvr]

aizawa calling you clingy - gn reader

- [attempt at] angst to fluff

- warnings: being called clingy, aizawa gets annoyed with reader and berates them, one use of the word ‘shit’

- wc: 1.9k

a/n: this wasnt......as sad as i wanted... i cant tell if im just not so good at writing angst or immune to it T_T

once again, not edited!

#! aizawa!!!! eee

#! hes a levelheaded man so arguments are rare

#! u both trust one another so theres no reason to have doubts in ur relationship

#! being his s/o, he tells u things thats not so easy to tell others over time, and you’re patient enough to let him take however much time he needs to let u in

#! however, years of keeping to himself most of the time doesnt just disappear even if you’re his s/o

#! so aizawa does have this tendency to close off and distance himself from u bc of his stress and insecurities

walking through the spacious halls of ua, you were headed towards your lovely boyfriend. aizawas been pretty busy lately with teaching his class, making sure no one is being left behind progress wise, doing his job as a pro-hero, and then spending his free time training with shinsou.

you knew showing up at school unexpectedly was something aizawa found irky, that’s why you made sure to tell him the night before that you would be coming during lunch time to bring him some yummy homemade food.

humming softly to yourself, you finally reached the door opening to class 1-A and walked in. the classroom was empty, but there at the front was no one other than mr. aizawa shouta. you quickly greeted him with a smile and he turned to look at you.

“what are you doing here?” he slowly asked with a look of confusion.

“i brought you some food! did you eat yet? i hope not, i made-,” you quickly stopped talking once you noticed the look he was giving you.

“why are you here? i already told you, you shouldnt be showing up without letting me know first. our relationship is quiet, if the students see they’ll get noisy and ask questions, i’ll get bombarded by my colleagues, and it’ll put you in danger if words get out. did anyone see you coming here? can you listen to me for once instead of continuing to always be near me? you’re so damn clingy and need to start thinking about the consequences your action will bring. i already ate, just go home before anything happens.”

your jaw dropped a little after hearing what he just said to you. did he not remember what you told him last night?

worst of all, you couldnt believe he just called you clingy. you just wanted to do something nice for him by making his favorite food hoping that it’ll relieve some of the stress thats been building up, but he just thought of you as clingy.

fine, if clingy is what you are then you’ll stop bothering him. you quickly whispered an apology, not sure if he could hear or not, and began making your way back home as fast as possible. the food you made for him was still tightly grasped in your hand.

due to the new dormitories, aizawa stays at ua majority of the time. he comes home to your shared apartment whenever he can to spend time with you. unfortunately, those time aren’t usually much because as soon as he’s free, he’s quick to do something else.

once you’ve made it home, you packed the food away and put it in the fridge. you felt your phone buzzing repeatedly, already guessing who it could possibly be, you took it out to see it was your boyfriend.

shou <3: im sorry

shou <3: honey, im so sorry. pls text me back when u can

shou <3: i know what i said hurted u, but i promise u i dont mean it. pls just call me or text me so we can talk about this

shou <3: i have to go back now. but i love u. so much.

staring at your screen, you contemplated texting him back.

letting out a sigh, you decided not to.

putting your phone to the side, you walked to the bedroom and changed out of your clothes into the comfy pjs you were wearing right before you left.

seeing that there was nothing for you to do other than wallow in your insecurities and let out a few tears, you got into bed and made yourself comfortable for an afternoon nap.

aizawa on the other hand was at school and distracted. his own words kept replaying over and over in his head and all he wants to do is smack himself a few times (after comforting u ofc).

his students could tell he was in a badder mood than usual so they collectively agreed to not worsen it (one particular student does not care. can u guess?). aizawa just wanted the day to pass so he can apologize to you directly and make it up with some cuddling.

despite being distracted with planning his apology and thinking about you, he was still teaching as he should and constantly telling his students to be quiet because he’s intimidating like that.

a few hours passed, the students are back in their dorms and some of the teachers are still in school finishing up some work. the hallways were empty and silent, and the weather outside was nice and calm - not too sunny with just the right amount of wind.

however, if you were to peek your head inside of class 1-A at the moment, the environment is an exact 180. aizawa is quickly trying to grade the remaining stack of papers he has on his desk so he can leave as soon as he can. there’s papers everywhere, he’s not so sure where the answer key went off to but to hell with the answer key. he just needs to go home.

his hair is messily tied up and his lips have probably been gnawed off by now. as soon as school ended, he got out his phone to see if you replied and sadly you didn’t. he doesn’t blame you though, considering all of the shit he said to you earlier. 

finally writing down the fat score in red pen onto the final paper, he gathers everything and put to the side of his desk and packed up his stuff. his stuff being his yellow sleeping bag and that’s it.

he went to his room first to clean himself up a bit, and then grabbed a taxi to go to your shared apartment. arriving at the front door, he takes out his copy of the key and entered.

first thing he noticed while entering and taking off his shoes was that the apartment was dark and quiet. he made his way to the kitchen first and turned on its lights to check the fridge. in the fridge laid the food you made for him earlier today. he took it out to start heating it up in the microwave then he walks away from the food and to your bedroom.

quietly opening the door, he poked his head in to see you laying on your side with your back facing the door. he assumed you were asleep and gently closed the door to not wake you up. he made his way over to the bed and sat on the edge of it. 

you, feeling the bed dip, slowly opened your eyes to be greeted with the sight of your boyfriend gingerly brushing his fingertips across your cheekbones. he notices that you’re awake and looks up to meet your eyes.

making eye contact with him, you quietly grunted and brought the blanket up to cover your face while turning your entire body to the other side to ignore him. aizawa sighed and brought his hand down to rest on your waist as he begins talking.

“yn... i know you’re.. mad at me for the things i said to you earlier, but i’m truly sorry. i know saying i didn’t mean it isn’t good enough for you to forgive me, but i want you to know i’m really really sorry. i’ve been so busy for the past few days, my head is all over the place, seeing you at school just got me overthinking and worried that i ended up saying things about you that’s not true at all. i love you so much, hun. you’re the best thing to happen to me. you don’t have to forgive me now, i understand if you want some space.”

it was silent for some time after he finished his apology. the echoing silence was slowly making aizawa worried that you’ll leave him, but he won’t tell you that. thinking that you wanted space, he lifted his shaky hand off of your waist and moved to get off of the bed when you suddenly grabbed onto his hand to keep him there.

“i...i told you the day before that i was going to be visiting you during lunch time. did you not remember? or even hear me tell you?”

aizawa situated himself back down onto the bed before replying. “if i’m being honest, i don’t really remember much of that day at all. my brain was occupied with work and rest, so i was practically drained by the end of the night. i’m sorry i took it out on you, it’s my fault for overworking when i know you’ve been trying to help.”

letting out a soft sigh, you turned your body back towards him. still holding onto his hand, you carefully slotted your fingers in between his and pulled him down to lay with you. he immediately found comfort in this and placed his head into your neck. you could feel his facial hair against your skin making you let out a quiet giggle.

“i love you. i know you have a habit to overwork since that’s all you did before we dated, but please shou, take care of yourself. im not talking physically, cuz you’re already so damn fine, but mentally. i hate seeing you bury yourself in work and training that it even makes me tired just watching you.”

he grumbled something against your neck - his usual reaction to you complimenting him - and held onto you tighter while putting light kisses on your collarbone.

“i know. i will. please bear with me, i know i’m a pain but i’ll always try to be my best for you. i’m never letting you go, love you too much for that.”

“hmm? who said i’m going? you’re stuck with me forever just so you know,” you laughed and patted his head before rising from the bed.

“i heard you heating up the food earlier. get up and come eat,” you tugged aizawa to get him off the bed.

he grumbled once again because he was being forced to leave the warm comfort of your shared bed, but followed you out anyway holding onto your hand.

“wait. you heard me entering? so you were pretending to sleep when i got here?! not funny, babe. not funny. -also don’t take sleep for granted. i did and look where that got me. stop laughing!”

bonus:

it was the next day and aizawa just finished passing out the grades he rushed grading yesterday. even though it was rushed, he was confident that there wasn’t any mistakes-

“aizawa sensei, you marked this question wrong when it’s right. this one too. and this other one on the last page. are you trying to fail me?!” denki dramatically wailed as he showed aizawa his papers.

guess he did make mistakes after all.

[matbaerzal]

Like This Pt.1 | T. Jost

Summary: Tyson is the best roommate you could ask for, you can't imagine ever living with someone else... no- no not like that, your relationship is purely platonic! > (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) A/N: First fic of the year hafsjkhf.... The reader studies Special Education, which will play a small part throughout this fic. Warnings: A short mention of sexual dreams Reader pronouns: she/her Words: 2,4K Tagging: @konecny-s @vitekvanecek @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 @ricohenrique @notaccurateornice @tysojost @justjosty ... lmk if you want to be tagged ❤️

As you reach the door to your apartment you shift your second grocery bag into your left hand before fishing your keys out of your pocket. You hurry to turn the key in your lock as your arms are tired from the heavy weight of the amount of food you’d bought. You huff out as you open the door, absent-mindedly throwing the keys on the side table as you set the groceries down on the floor.

“I’m sorry, can you give me a minute?” you hear Tyson speak as you take off your coat and shoes. In the corner of your eye, you see him put his phone down before pushing his chair back, standing up, and walking over.

“Hey, how was work?”

You huff out a breath in reply, and when you see him grab the groceries you almost try to object, but relief washes over you before you can. You follow him to the kitchen with the intent to sort the food so he can get back to what he was doing, but he brushes you away.

“Go sit down - relax” he gives you a pointed look.

“Thanks” you smile, hesitantly making your way to the couch.

“You hungry?” he speaks over his shoulder as you sit down.

“Very” your stomach grumbles as if on cue.

“I made some dinner earlier, want me to heat it up for you?”

“Don’t you have an interview” you shout back.

“Eh, they can wait” he shrugs

Without waiting for you to reply he takes out the tupperware from the fridge before putting it in the microwave. Once it’s heated up he brings it over to you, along with a glass of water before he gets back to his interview, apologizing profusely to the journalist on the other end of the call for keeping them waiting.

Living with Tyson had its ups and downs, but all in all the two of you fit together well as roommates. You’d met him during his first year in Colorado, back then you were living on campus. You’d planned to move in with a friend of yours, but after she graduated she got a job offer in another state and decided to move, leaving you practically homeless as there was no way you’d be able to afford to live on your own at the time - and there was no chance that you were ever moving in with your dorm room roommate again. Tyson offered for you to stay with him for at least a little bit until you figured things out. Then he realized he really liked having you around. You’d hesitated, thinking he was just trying to be nice, before he practically begged you to stay.

Hundreds of comments from friends asking if you’re dating or having sex later, you’re still living with him - not dating, not having sex, never even having kissed, and neither of you wanted to cross that line. With the way you and Tyson clicked, there were a lot of people who had trouble believing you were just friends, but at this point, you felt like you knew each other too well. All your dirty laundry had been aired out between the two of you - both literally and figuratively. The smell of his week-old workout sweat in the laundry room was enough to put you off. It wouldn’t be fair to say it hadn’t crossed your mind though. Objectively he is very attractive - you can’t deny that - perhaps, maybe your mind traveled places as he walked out of the bathroom after a shower with only a towel wrapped around him. You knew for a fact that he’d thought about you too, having drunkenly admitted to you that he had a dream about you once - which explained that one morning where he wouldn’t meet your eye and couldn’t have gotten out of the door quicker.

But neither of you ever acted on your attraction, it was pushed into the back of your minds - ignored completely. Because that’s all it was, an attraction, and nothing more.

You watch him as he continues his interview, zoning out as you eat your food. You hear every tone of his voice, completely focused on him but at the same time not registering a single thing he’s saying. It’s only when he looks over at you that you’re shaken out of it.

“Is it alright?” he whispers, covering the microphone.

You shake your head as you're brought back to the real world, it takes your brain a few seconds to catch what he said and your cheeks feel warm as he chuckles - “Hm?”

“The food? Is it alright?”

“Mm, yeah” you take another bite, resting the fork in the food container as you reach for the TV remote to distract yourself.

You’d been swamped with work lately, between your studies and your part-time job as a teaching assistant, you barely had time to take a breather. Your third year studying Special Education at the University of Denver was hectic, any time not spent at work or on campus or studying at home was spent either eating or sleeping in your bed. Tyson could see how tired you were whenever you came home, he always cooked a little extra for his dinner so you wouldn’t go to bed without eating first. His mediocre pasta meals always tasted like heaven after the long days you had.

By the time Tyson plops down on the couch you’re finished eating and zoned out on an episode of New Girl.

“Do you have any plans on Sunday?” he asks and you shake your head - “just studying, writing”.

“Wanna come to the game? I completely get it if you just want to stay in-”

“Are you kidding? I’d love to” you perk up, you hadn’t been to a game in who knows how long and you’d put aside your assignments at least for a little while if Tyson ever asked you to. He never had to ask before, you’d come whenever you had time, but it’d been seven weeks now - Tyson kept count.

“You sure?”

“Yes, Tys, really” you pat his thigh - keeping your hand there a touch longer before removing it when you meet his soft eyes.

--

You wake up late on Sunday, head stuck to the pillow, body hesitant to leave the bed. You’d already woken up once and decided to sleep longer so you force yourself out of bed, put some clothes on and go to the kitchen to grab a bowl of cereal. Just as you get the milk from the fridge your apartment door opens, signaling that Tyson’s home from his morning skate.

“Good morning” he smirks at you, his eyes running over your thrown-together outfit and noting the remnant of sleep in your eyes.

You nod, trying to speak through the mouthful you just took, making Tyson squint his eyes in a laugh. He waits patiently for you to finish so you can repeat your question to him - “how was the skate?”

“It was alright, easily gonna have a nap after I eat though”

“Want some cereal?” you arch your brow. He stops and thinks for a second, contemplating if he should say yes, or make his usual scrambled eggs - “you know what? Yeah” he decides. You raise your brows at him, about to make a comment but he interrupts you. “Yeah, yeah pour me a bowl before I change my mind”.

You hold your hands up - “wasn’t gonna say anything” you try, but he doesn’t look convinced. You rush to get him a bowl and a spoon, setting them down for him, pouring in some cereal as he comes over to sit next to you on your kitchen island. He pours the milk himself before lifting the bowl to clink against yours, muttering “cheers” before taking a spoonful into his mouth.

You sit in comfortable silence as you eat your food, moving around each other as you put the bowls in the sink to worry about later. You walk to the couch and open your laptop to get some work done before you have to get ready for the game.

“Do you ever take a break?” Tyson yawns, laying down on the couch next to you, his head landing on a pillow close by your thighs.

You figure his questions rhetorical, but his eyes stay on you as you start typing away on your essay. “I’m taking a break later, y’know, at the game”

“No, I mean like a real break, like flat out on the couch, books closed-”

“You’re funny”

“I’m serious”

“Yeah, well, I don’t have time for breaks Tys”

He goes quiet after that, a thoughtful look on his face as he settles into the couch, your eyes linger on him for a moment before you go back to writing your essay. It doesn’t take long for his breath to get heavy, the small snores escaping him making you smile. As you skim through an article you might use for your essay your free hand finds his hair - his curls too soft to resist running your hand through. His snoring stops as your hand first makes contact making you freeze, but he’s nuzzling into the pillow and snoring again before you know it.

Even after you’ve read the article your hand stays in his hair and you do your best to type with one hand, only opting to use your right hand when absolutely necessary. You were in tweaking stages so luckily you could keep one hand planted in his hair most of the time. You’re checking the clock here and there, knowing he didn’t set an alarm and that he didn’t like napping too long on game days, but just as you’re about to wake him he leans into your touch, eyes slowly blinking open as he hums, absentmindedly you brush his hair away from his forehead - “sleep well?”

“Like a baby” he smiles, “what time is it?”

“uh, two-thirty” you glance over at the little clock on your computer.

He leans into your hand one more time as if to savor the feel before he starts to get up, once on his feet he stretches his arms above his head, you can’t help but look as his t-shirt lifts to reveal his stomach, but you avert your eyes quickly and hope he doesn’t notice. If he did, he doesn’t comment, “want me to make dinner for you too?” he throws the words your way over his shoulder as he makes his way to the kitchen. “What’s on the menu?” you tease, fully well knowing the answer, even saying it with him once he replies - “chicken and pasta”.

You turn your head to look at him, and he can’t bring himself to be annoyed at you when you smirk at him.

“Yeah, yeah” he brushes you off - “do you want some or no?”

“Yes, please” you smile.

He quickly makes the food, the recipe burned into his brain from making it time after time. He puts a little extra cheese on your plate, coming over to the couch with both plates once he’s done. You close your computer, place it to the side, and take the plate he hands to you with ease. Once your plates are scraped it’s time for Tyson to get ready, change into his suit and leave for the arena.

He walks out of his room wearing one of his three-piece suits and if you didn’t have the restraint you’d built up over the time you’d lived with him you’re sure you would’ve drooled at the sight. You’d think he was doing it on purpose, but you’d never let your weakness for the vest-jacket pairing slip, and he looks oblivious as he meets your eyes. The little spin he does for you does nothing to help and you have to give yourself credit for being so collected when he raises his brows as if to ask: “Is this alright?”.

“Looking good, Tys. I’ll see you after the game” you get off the couch as you speak and give him a quick hug, his phone pinging with a message signaling that JT is waiting for him downstairs as you break away.

“See you later,” he says.

“Kick some Dallas butt.”

He laughs as he walks through the door leaving you to yourself. You don’t wait long until you start getting ready yourself, not being able to focus on your writing with the anticipation of the game in the back of your mind. You put your lucky Avalance hoodie on, grabbing your coat before leaving with more than enough time to catch the warm-ups. There’s a couple of familiar faces there when you arrive. You’d met the players’ girlfriends a few times, mostly in this exact setting and you fell right back into the group again. You felt for them, having to watch their boyfriends play such an unpredictable sport. You guess you could imagine how it felt at least a little, living with Tyson and all, but the energy they brought to every game was admirable.

The game was tight, the boys fell behind in the first period but in the second and third they were no doubt the better team, but the puck just wouldn’t go in the net. With ten minutes left they manage to tie it and with 5 minutes left Tyson takes a tripping penalty. They killed the penalty and scored not long after to secure the win, but you could see Tyson beating himself up over the penalty that could’ve cost them the game. The look on his face as he sat in the penalty box is something you keep in the back of your mind as you leave with the girls to meet him.

He’s one of the first ones to come out of the locker rooms, head hanging low. Gabe pats him on the shoulder before he greets his wife, Tyson throws a forced smile towards his captain that seems genuine to anyone that doesn’t know him the way you do. The smile reaches his eyes once he sees you though and he drapes his arm over your shoulder when he reaches you, leading you towards the garage - “Let’s go home”

To be continued...

---- Copyright © @matbaerzal (2021)

[cinnamonest]

Rewriting my Diluc housewife thoughts but I saved it in my notes this time, but I made it infinitely more sexist than it already was before bc 1) I was in the kink mood and 2) the spirits of writing gods possessed my body and told me that is the way all Diluc content should be, so, this is major 1950s-ish housewifey horrendously misogynistic shit, you've been warned. Like, even *I* looked back over this and was like "wow this is vile" which is kinda saying something for me so, putting the nastier parts under cut for the sake of my followers' eyes ----------- I was thinking about the post a while back about Diluc reforming a criminal darling - a thief around Mondstadt that's been on a crime spree and of course he catches wind of that and goes to defeat the perpetrator (surprisingly very easy? How is a thief this weak?) and haul the bastard off to jail except... What's this? Said criminal is actually just some girl and not a gross ugly bastard?? This changes things. Clearly, this was not an intentional act of malice or greed, but rather, he, master of criminal psychology™, rationalizes that the world is far too cruel for unwifed girls that have no one to depend on, a cold terrible place, so you must have been driven to these actions out of desperation. You had no provider, no caretaker, which are needs. How could you possibly be expected to provide a means of living for yourself?? This is just the consequences of the unfairness of the world. However, things all work out in the end. You need to be taken care of and restrained from these self-destructive choices by force (since you cannot recognize how bad it is, not that you're expected to, it's natural that you have poor perception, that's why you need a man to make choices for you), and he needs a wife. This solution benefits all parties.

He is, however, a rather dense man, and doesn't really think to like, tell you that. Or tell you anything. He's too lost in thought in his planning -- gonna get you new clothes to replace your ragged ones, gonna have to rearrange the guard schedule so they can watch the house better, all that -- and just kinda slings you up and over his shoulder without a word. Ignores you kicking and hitting because it doesn't really hurt or anything, you're too weak for that. Just says he’ll explain in detail later, but don’t worry, you’re not going to jail. He’s just taking you home. This is better, he says. Stop struggling so much, what, you want to go to jail? No? Then be still. And you don't recognize that it's good for you yet, but again, that's expected. In a better time or society, you would have been married off sooner, and prevented from ever falling victim to your own decision making to begin with, but the world isn't perfect and you can be forgiven for it. You're not responsible for your own actions since you can't comprehend them. It's frustrating and he sighs a bit over it, but that's just the way things are. You'll be happy in the long run, even if it takes a while, you're naturally programmed for a better lifestyle he has in mind. And, really, he's glad you weren't married off, because if you were then he never would have had you, so even though it was technically unideal, the stars align and the universe works out things perfectly. It's all the more of a sign that this was fate and you were made for him. The issue is that a hardened criminal darling is... Not the ideal candidate for a housewife. To some extent, he's right that the criminal underworld hardens a person, you can't survive in that realm if you're submissive or weak willed. And criminal darling certainly is not. Loud mouthed, opinionated, argumentative, bad attitude, defiant and aggressive and very much unafraid. A complete loose cannon. All very unfavorable traits. Worst of all, very much unaccepting of and ungrateful for the privilege of a second chance and being graciously granted the opportunity for a better life. Lots of bad behaviors.

The cursing is a problem. It's not very... Wife-like. Gives off a bad image, you know. Especially since said cursing is usually directed at him at a very loud volume with a snarl and getting all up in his face to tell him he's fucking insane and a bastard. To be honest, the worst part isn't the words themselves, it's the fact that you are so unafraid to be defiant and so fiery that is the primary issue. You disobey very deliberately. Little acts of pettiness. Being mean to the maids who are so graciously trying to teach you how to cook (at his direction), since you had no idea how to (and nearly burned his house down as a result). The first time you were mean and bitter and that's how you learned they report back to him about how you behaved. It did not go over well.  

Intentionally burning food. Once you somehow found a bottle in a cabinet somewhere in the mansion and put rat poison in his food, made him sick. Muttering a sarcastic whoops and shoving a vase off to crash and shatter on the floor. Early on you refused to wear all the nice dresses you were generously given and even tried to go through his clothes to find something to wear, which was kinda cute since it was way too big, but still. You mutter and grumble under your breath every time you're given a command. The most important thing is sex, though. You know, your job. One of your only real responsibilities. He has a very stressful job. It's only reasonable that he can expect to come home to his sweet, loving little wife with open arms and equally open legs. You've probably fucked around a bit right? For money, for favors, for intel, you get the idea, lots of ties to criminal gangs to earn their trust. So, if you do it for something so insignificant, how much more does he deserve it for taking care of you fully? You should -- and you will, with time -- drop to your knees the second he walks through the door. But instead, sigh, you fight and whimper and cover your face in shame after you spasm and cum, and worst of all, you actively try not to cum. You shouldn't feel ashamed of that, it's good, he says. Sure, you may not be officially married (since the laws of Mondstadt unfortunately require that whole "consent" thing for both parties, ugh), but, he's basically your husband right? So, it's perfectly normal, you're supposed to cum for him. Maybe once you're all knocked up you'll be even hornier, and less shameful. He actually wasn't expecting you to be this bad. Incredibly stubborn and prideful. Literally the exact opposite traits of a good wife, you know, submissive and humble and obedient. He kinda thought that it was like... automatic. That once he just kinda shoved you in the right environment, it would be like flipping a switch right? Apparently not. But no matter. It can be changed, with effort and time. You're worth it. See, you're not supposed to backtalk him, you're supposed to smile and do what you're told without question. You're supposed to submit and obey, and instead you seem hellbent on pissing him off out of spite - and frankly, you're doing a good job of achieving that. Every time you defy him it sparks an irritation he can't describe, worse than he'd normally get from just being snarled at by anyone - no, something about being disrespected by someone he feels is beneath him makes him much, much angrier than it would be if it were, say, one of the business partners who get snappy and argumentative very frequently. He could break you and it would be easy, don't you know that? You stomp and you hit him and you yell, but clearly you process that you have to look up to look him in the eye, you have to realize how much smaller you are. You hit him even though you have to know by now he'll just grab your wrists, and like always you'll be unable to even hope of pulling out of his grip, the strength difference between you two is so great. There's no way you don't realize all that, yet you continue to behave the way you do. The inferiority is so blatantly obvious, but you act as if it's not. He spends a lot of time contemplating the source of this, the cause of your behavior, it occupies his thoughts. It's like... You resent him for something. Could it possibly be kidnapping you and keeping you as a glorified sex slave? No, no, that's not it. It's something else, yes. Are you just bitter about being inferior in, you know, every conceivable way? Is that it? The criminality for you was compensation to make you feel powerful, perhaps. You have a complex. You resent him not for anything he's done, but because you know he's stronger and smarter and generally superior to you. You don't want to accept it. You're prideful when you shouldn't be. You're supposed to be humble and content with your inferiority. Yeah, that's it. You just have a negative perception of the lifestyle you're supposed to have. Maybe some event in your life or someone else warped your view of things. You don't realize how happy you'd be if you just accepted it. Yes, if you submitted to it, if you swallowed your pride and actually accepted your place, you'd find you would be very happy, you just don't know that. Or maybe, your brain can't grasp something like that. After all, that's the reason you're supposed to be the submissive party of the two of you, you're not as bright or perceptive (says the densest man alive). You have to be... Led. Guided. So he says it. He is, again, a dense man. He does not really think about the fact that perhaps blatantly confronting you with the epiphany he thinks he's had and specifically using the words inferior and weak and small is probably not going to make you very happy. You get bitchy and bratty and try to hit him and he sighs because, see, this is exactly what he's talking about. You reacting the way you did only confirms you do have a complex, he says. So, how could he go about... reconditioning? He is not the most creative man, but thankfully it's a rather easy problem to solve. If you're reminded of a reality often enough, you have to accept it. For starters, using physical strength against you. Maybe that will metaphorically open your eyes. Holds you down in place when you're hitting him like you do, firmly bending you over a counter or whatever and just holding you in place. Come on, try to get up, try to push him off. You snarl and claw at the marble and push will all your strength, but he doesn't budge, not until you politely apologize and ask him to let you up. If you're being difficult and not going where he tells you to, well, he can just sling you up over his shoulder and carry you. If you're fighting being fucked he can just flip you over and press your face into the mattress and hold you still, and you can't help but take the brutal reality that you're basically a ragdoll to him, that is, physically overpowering you doesn't even require trying. It helps to knock you down a peg, remind you of your place and maybe get you to swallow that pride a bit. The orgasms and fucking have a similar effect -- every time you can't help but feel like he has a power over you. And really, he kinda does. Every time you lay there still panting and shivering in aftershock, the shame comes swarming in, all the obscene noises you made and the way you came undone under the person that treats you like property. Even if the rational part of you knows better, you can't help but feel like in a way it's like you let him win, allowed yourself to more or less prove him right. Maybe you'll learn better if you're in more humiliating positions. Stuck getting rammed from behind, hand forcing your face down and ass up. Actually correcting bad behaviors requires more direct approaches, so he takes the... Old fashioned route. After all, it's pretty much guaranteed to work. You don't listen to words, you don't listen to reason, but you'll certainly listen to handprints and belt welts on your ass. It's the first time you really, truly break, and that brings him a lot of satisfaction. The first time you really cry and whimper and beg and apologize so profusely it feels like you mean it for once. Granted, for a while you just persist in your bad behaviors and even try to run when you see him sigh and take the belt off, but you never get far. And, most notably, you actually fix your behaviors, with enough reminders. At one point, the next time you start being bad and get to bitching and snarling and putting up a fight, you catch the look on his face and, for once, you shut your mouth and look down and mumble an apology by default. See, you're learning. Speaking of, you still have that major issue with backtalking him. You're supposed to submit to him and acknowledge his authority over you. So he gets firm. Grabs you by the jaw and forces you to look him in the eye and reminds you that you will *not* get an attitude with him. You *will* show some respect. You say yes sir and no sir and do what you're told. And if you forget, he can give you a reminder, if you want that. But you shake your head with fear in your eyes, say you don't want that. It makes you mad. You want to lash back, but you swallow your pride and mutter a fine - before realizing the mistake, violating the rule you were just reminded of. You stammer out a yes sir but it's already too late. He has to control himself too, not let his anger get the better of him. He speaks in a way that isn't snarling and mean, but rather firm, cold, a flat tone that asserts dominance and demands respect. But... still wants you to like him. So he has to be nice, too. After all, you'll learn better if you're rewarded for being good, right? So you can get little rewards. Words of affirmation. A pat to the head. He'll buy you something you want, let you drink a bit (since, as a thief, of course, you had a problem with that before you came home, but that had to be corrected too, since drunkenness isn't very befitting). And sooner or later he does have a really good little wife. He's proud of you. You smile and obey commands without complaining. He can come home every day, and rather than hearing a long report from the staff about how much trouble you caused that day, instead you have food and smiles and sweet affection waiting on him, you hug him when he walks through the door. You're polite and sweet to the various business partners and guests that come through -- you don't speak to them without permission though, of course, and you look down at the ground so you don't make eye contact with another man. People say he's lucky and how they wish they had a wife that was so outwardly affectionate to them as you are to him, always clinging to him physically. And you don't complain or every object to anything, you just smile and say yes and do it. It makes him happy in a weird way he can't quite articulate. A warm swell of pride, a feeling of success. You have vague memories of a time when you were breaking into houses just to scrape by, not knowing when you'd eat next, not knowing where you'd sleep. It's kind of a fuzzy memory now. You don't have to worry about those things anymore, and you're a lot happier this way.

[fireinmoonshot]

SPIDER | BUCKY BARNES x READER | PART FOUR

CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE Summary: Bucky doesn’t know what to make of you when he meets you. You’re friends with Sharon, and you seem pretty easy to read on the surface. But the more time he spends with you, the more he seems to uncover, and the more he becomes tangled in the web you unwittingly weave. Pairing: female!Reader x Bucky Barnes Fandom: Marvel / The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Word Count: 2,769 Warnings: SPOILERS FOR THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER. A/N: Thank you all for the lovely response yet again! I really appreciate it. We're getting into Episode 4 now, so if you've not seen it yet make sure you don't read this chapter or you'll spoil yourself! Please let me know your thoughts, though. I really liked how this chapter turned out and I tried to make it so it didn't read like I was just writing the episode out word for word so I hope it's okay!

Zemo’s apartment was, at least, comfortable. As soon as you’d arrived Sam had settled in and gotten himself a drink and Zemo had excused himself to shower. You’d gone for a wander around the place, trying to get your bearings. It’d been a while since you’d been out of Madripoor and it felt a little like the ground had just been ripped up from underneath your feet. It was undoubtedly going to take some getting used to. Then, with what Bucky had said in the street. You were overthinking and you knew it, but he’d been right. You hated that he’d been right.

A change of clothes and freshening up in one of the bathrooms the place had done at least some of the job in helping you feel settled in, and by the time you re-enter the living room Bucky’s back, the Dora Milaje is after Zemo and the news that Karli bombed a GRC supply depot has broken.

You settle on one of the seats beside Sam with a glass of water and a heavy heart. Zemo is talking about how he personally believes Karli is a supremacist, but you can’t get your mind off of how three people had died and eleven more had been injured at the GRC supply depot bombing. You have a feeling that more people are going to end up dead if you don’t act soon, and fast.

“She will not stop,” Zemo says. “She will escalate until you kill her.”

You zone back into the conversation, taking a long sip of your drink.

“Or she kills you.”

“How unbelievably morbid of you,” you mutter.

Bucky glances at you and Sam even huffs out what you think could be a laugh.

“Maybe you’re wrong, Zemo. The serum never corrupted Steve,” Bucky says.

“Touché. But there has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?”

You can’t disagree with him. These people – Karli, her super soldiers. You know that they’re not trying to be Steve Rogers. They’re anything but. But you also know that John Walker, where-ever he is, whoever he is, isn’t qualified for the job either.

Bucky sighs and makes to walk away from the three of you and head toward the couch, looking for a well deserved seat. “Well, maybe we should give him to the Wakandans right now.”

“And you’ll give up your tour guide?” Zemo replies, staring into a cabinet and not even bothering to give Bucky a glance.

“Yes.” Bucky doesn’t hesitate.

Sam rolls his eyes, clearly irritated by the both of them. He says something, you vaguely hear something about his ‘TT’, though you don’t listen to the words. Instead, you stare into your drink, swirling the water around in the cup.

It’s not the first time you wonder if you’ve made a mistake my coming along with Sam, Bucky and Zemo. It’s not like Sharon gave you a choice, but you know that you could have insisted that you not come along. But now you’re wondering even more as you sit in Zemo’s living room, listening to the three men concoct a plan without even needing to consult you. Three men – a criminal, one that doesn’t trust you and one that you just don’t understand at all. You feel out of place among them.

You push yourself up and out of your chair, leaving your water behind on the table, and head towards the hallway that’ll lead you to the room Zemo told you that you could use. Bucky watches as you go, wondering if he should call out and ask you where you’re going, though he hesitates for too long and by that time, you’re out of sight. Sam watches him with furrowed eyebrows.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” Bucky looks at him.

“You, staring at her like that. Are you in cahoots or something? I saw you talking on the street. Hell, you stopped to talk to her. What’s that about?”

Bucky scoffs. “In cahoots? Are you being serious right now?”

“Deadly.”

“Yeah, you know what else is deadly?”

“What?”

“Karli if we don’t hurry up and get some information on Donya Madani.” Bucky stands up and heads towards the bathroom. “As soon as I’m done, we’re heading out.”

Sam shakes his head and mutters “Who made you boss?” under his breath.

Bucky hears him. “I did!”

***

You’re not quite sure what you expect to find, but it’s certainly more than you’re leaving with. Bucky is standing and staring at Zemo and a group of children when you and Sam rejoin him. You’d gone upstairs with him, having decided on the journey there to at least try with him, and if he still refused to trust you, you’d give up. Or perhaps you wouldn’t. You hadn’t quite decided yet.

Bucky looks at you as you stand beside him, hands tucked firmly into the pockets of your jacket to shield them from the cool breeze. You hadn’t said much to him since he’d joined you at Zemo’s apartment after your talk on the street, and honestly he didn’t expect you to. He didn’t even really know what to say to you, so he’d figured he’d not even bother breaching the topic. If you wanted to talk about it, you would.

You stare ahead at Zemo, eyes narrowed. He’d been a little anxious about you going upstairs with Sam alone, even though he knew deep down that Sam wasn’t going to do anything, especially to Sharon’s friend.

“Someone needs to teach those children not to talk to strangers,” you mutter.

Sam snorts.

“No, seriously. If I was their age and someone that looked and acted like Zemo came up and started talking to me like that, I’d probably want to punch him and run.” You pause and then spot the Turkish delight. “On second thoughts…” You make to walk towards him, suddenly feeling rather protective over the children unknowingly speaking to a criminal like Zemo.

Before you can even make it two steps, a hand closes around your wrist and pulls you to a stop. You look back, irritated, to find Bucky shaking his head at you.

“Don’t. He’s not going to hurt them. They’re giving him information.”

“They’re children and he’s a criminal.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, tugging you back to his side and letting go of your wrist once you’re there. “And I’ll punch him in the face if I have to.”

Sam chuckles. “Don’t tempt him, or me, for that matter.”

“Now you’ve just made me want to watch him get punched in the face.”

Bucky and Sam share a look.

“I will if you will,” Sam shrugs.

Zemo finishes speaking to the children and walks back towards the three of you. “Cute kids,” he says, smiling a smile that makes your skin crawl. He walks straight past you.

“Yeah, I hate that man,” you mutter.

***

The journey back to Zemo’s apartment is quiet and uncomfortable. You feel worried for the children and are contemplating various different ways you could physically injure and maim Zemo. Whatever Sam and Bucky are thinking, you don’t know or particularly care.

What you do know is that you didn’t find what you came for

You close the door of the apartment behind you.

“Well, I got nothing,” Bucky says, heading straight to the couch. “No one’s talking about Donya.”

“Yeah, it’s because Karli is the only one fighting for them,” Sam replies, settling down on the couch opposite Bucky. “And she’s not wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

You find a spot on the couch by Bucky and kick off your shoes so you can put your feet up. All of the travelling around was certainly taking its toll and honestly, you were beyond exhausted. If you had the time to sleep for more than a few broken hours, you’d take it. You rest your head on your arm, laying your head down on the top of the couch, and look between Sam and Bucky.

Sam sighs and elaborates. “For five years, people have been welcomed into countries that have kept them out using barbwire. There were houses and jobs. Folks were happy to have people around to help them rebuild. It wasn’t just one community coming together, it was the entire world coming together. And then, boom. Just like that, it goes right back to the way it used to be. To them, at least Karli’s doing something.”

“You really think her ends justify her means?” Bucky says. “Then, she’s no different than him,” he motions to Zemo, “or anybody else we’ve fought.”

“She’s different. She’s not motivated by the same things.”

You find the courage to speak. “Just because she’s not motivated by the same things as Zemo or the people you’ve fought, it doesn’t mean she’s not unlike them,” you sit up a little straighter as they look at you. “I haven’t fought people like you have, but I’ve fought. I’ve seen what regular people can do with a following. Karli is different, but she’s the same, too. She’s making change, but at what cost?”

Bucky looks at you, eyes narrowed. “I like you,” he says. “You get me.”

Sam rolls his eyes and looks like he’s about to reply when Zemo comes over holding a tray with tea and several tea cups. It almost makes you laugh, the sight of him with the smallest, daintiest pieces of China, but you hold it back, knowing that all eyes in the room would fall on you if you did laugh.

“That little girl. What’d she tell you?” Bucky’s amusement over you is long gone.

Zemo looks at the three of you for several moments before finally giving up the information he’d been holding hostage. “The funeral is this afternoon.”

Beside you, Bucky huffs in annoyance. “You know the Dora’s coming for you at any minute? In fact, they’re probably lurking outside right now. Keep talking.”

“Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli. Hmm. I prefer to keep my leverage.”

You watch as Bucky stands up from the couch and walks towards him. Something tells you that he’s not just standing up to talk, but before you can so much as think of anything else, Bucky grabs a tea cup and throws it against the wall behind Zemo. It shatters with a surprisingly loud crack.

“You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?”

Both you and Sam are on your feet in seconds, stepping in-between them. You press a hand against Bucky’s shoulder and try to move him away from Zemo, but it does nothing. He doesn’t move and instead keeps shooting daggers at Zemo over your shoulder.

“Take it easy. Don’t engage him. He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing,” Sam says, warning Bucky off. “Let me make a call.” He leaves the room, but not before tapping on Bucky’s other shoulder in an attempt to snap him out of it.

Zemo gets on your nerves by asking “You want some cherry blossom tea?”

“No, you go ahead.” Bucky is seething.

You push on his shoulder again and finally he steps back.

“What, you think we can afford to start fighting amongst each other now?” You ask, directing Bucky out of the living room and down the hall, figuring it’s probably for the best if he and Zemo aren’t in the same room right now. Zemo can enjoy his cherry blossom tea all on his own.

Bucky lets out a long, shaky breath. “Told you I wanted to punch him.”

“When I said I wanted to see it, I didn’t mean today.”

You tug him out of the hall and into your room, closing the door behind you. It’s the first time the two of you have been alone since the street where he’d called you out for contradicting yourself all the time. Strangely, he’s the person out of the three of them that you’re the most comfortable around, yet you also know he’s definitely the one that’s the most rash in his decision making. Hence the broken cup.

Bucky sits down on the edge of the bed and runs his hands over his hair.

“I know that helping him get out was for the best considering everything with Karli and the Flag Smashers, but I’m really regretting my decision right about now,” he admits, eyes focused firmly on the floor.

You walk over and settle down beside him on the bed.

“He has his uses, but just because he’s useful doesn’t mean he’s any less of an ass.”

He laughs briefly and the sound makes you smile.

“We all have regrets, okay?” You continue. “I have plenty of them, you have them, Sam has them, I bet even Zemo has some. Buried deep down. I try not to focus on mine. Maybe you should try the same with the Zemo thing.”

Bucky lifts his head and looks at you. “Yeah, it’s that easy, is it?”

For some reason, you want him to trust you even more now. Having felt disconnected from them all day, but also having felt the thrill when one of them laughs at your joke, or even Bucky just telling you that he likes you… the part of you that wants trust wins out, so you decide to tell Bucky one of your regrets.

“I regret leaving Madripoor and Sharon,” you admit. “She’s the only home I’ve known for the longest time. Madripoor – however messed up it is there – felt like some kind of home because of her. It’s the first time we’ve been apart since the blip, I suppose. Part of me wishes I was still there with her. But the other part of me focuses on the fact that she thinks I’m of more use here, with you guys. So I’m trying to be of use to you guys. I’m trying not to shut myself off. I’m pushing down my regret in favour of trying to be helpful.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Well, I haven’t contradicted myself yet, have I?”

Bucky smiles properly for the first time since you’ve met him.

“And listen, if it makes you feel any better, you entirely have my permission to punch Zemo before we finish all of this. I don’t know Sam well, but I have a feeling he’d be on board, too.”

He chuckles and leans back until he’s laying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“I meant what I said in there before,” he points in the direction of the living room. “That I like you. That you get me. I don’t know how, but you do.” He looks up at you, sitting up and watching him. “You’re making it annoyingly easy for me to trust you right now, you know that? I feel like I shouldn’t trust you because of the contradictions you make about yourself. But now you’re sitting here, being open and honest with me. Making sure I don’t punch people. And now I feel like I could trust you.”

You’re smiling. “Maybe that was all part of my grand plan.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m joking. It was a joke,” you huff out a laugh. “Learn to take a joke, James.”

He pushes himself up, sitting straight again. “James?”

“That’s your name, is it not? Or do you not like being called James?”

“No, it’s… it’s fine.” He blinks. Lets your words settle with him for a moment.  “Bucky, James. I don’t care what you call me. Unless it’s offensive.”

“Well, you’re safe there,” you laugh. “I’m not mad at you, by the way. About what you said earlier. You were right. I do contradict myself, and I do it to protect myself.”

Bucky frowns. “You don’t have to protect yourself from me.”

“Then I’ll try not to,” you say honestly. “Now, have you cooled off enough to go back and see who Sam was calling, or do you wanna stay here for a few more minutes?”

Bucky thinks over your question for a few moments, thinking ever so briefly about staying here with you for a little bit longer simply because he thinks he likes being around you, before nodding. “I think I’m good.”

You nod and stand up, intending to head to the door, but Bucky reaches out a hand to stop you. He means to grab your wrist, but unintentionally ends up grabbing your hand. You whirl, eyes a little wider than you realise, and look at him.

He doesn’t let go.

“Thank you,” he says. “For getting me out of there. For calming me down.”

You smile. “Anytime, Bucky.”

***

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[wonderful-wells-writing]

Fanclub; Chapter 1

EoWells x Reader

Some of the STAR Labs employees have a secret fanclub where they discuss Harrison Wells and share pictures they take when they think he isn't looking. Problem is it's not quite as secret as they think it is. The man himself seems to have taken an interest in the the little group, finding it to be the perfect place to find willing partners to satisfy his needs. And you're his next pick.

Work is dying down for the evening at STAR Labs. Chemists are checking that all the storage units are set to the proper temperatures. Engineers are making sure that everything that needs to be powered down is. Lab techs are cleaning up their stations. But nearly everybody is discussing their plans for the weekend.

There is one worker who is not engaging in such conversations. You are currently crammed between two sections of machinery, determined to get this wiring finished before leaving for the day. That way, Monday, bright and early your team can start doing test runs.

You are not engaging in conversation with others but rather are talking to yourself as you work. “Some red over here, blue wire over there.” Your grin would light up the room if anybody could see it. “I just love when a color-coded array comes together.” There’s a buzz on your right butt-cheek, and you squeal in surprise.

“Everything alright in there?” One of the other scientists looks up from the desk.

“Yeah, Bri,” you extract yourself from the machine parts. “My phone just went off, and I thought something shocked me.”

“Girl, I can not tell you how often that happens to me,” Bri takes her purse from a drawer and a jacket off the chair. “So, what are your plans for the weekend. More number crunching?”

You pull your phone from your back pocket. “Actually my college roommate is having a bachelorette party tonight. So I said I would swing by the bar for a bit.”

“Sounds fun,” Bri gives a wave before heading to the door. “Don’t party too hard.”

She returns the wave before opening a group chat app on her phone to see what the notification is about.

KittyCat42; O.M.G did you see Dr. Wells today? a shirt THAT tight can not be workplace appropriate!!!

Attached is a photo taken from a smartphone at an angle in which the subject does not seem to be aware their picture is being taken. Dr. Harrison Wells is leaning over a desk, examining something on a monitor. Kitty is right; his shirt is very tight, his biceps bulge through the long black sleeves.

You grin, considering sending a reply, but another message comes in first.

YummyBitch73; Think he’s got plans? Looking that good, he’s got to be going out tonight.

Your thumbs move across the screen to type a quick response.

BabyDoll14; Maybe he has a date tonight?

KittyCat42; wonder who the lucky girl is?

You lean against a nearby workbench, smirking at the screen.

---

On the other side of the lab, somebody picks up their phone to check the barrage of notifications coming in. They chuckle before adding their own two cents.

Speedy22: Hey, who knows, it could be a lucky guy.

YummyBitch73: Oh you wish, he is a lady killer through and through

BabyDoll14: I mean, who are we to judge if it’s a lucky lady or gent. Maybe he swings one way, maybe he swings both ways. Who cares, we’re just here to talk about his ass behind his back.

“Speedy’ nods, almost respecting the woman on the other side of the screen for staying objective about objectifying her boss.

Speedy22: Speaking of ass, I got this one yesterday

He opens his gallery and scrolls until an ‘appropriate picture is found. A nice shot of Dr. Wells from behind; the quality is incredible for a smartphone shot. The man’s shirt is riding up, showing a nice strip of the skin of his back, even a bit of where his boxers rise above the waistband of his hands.

YummyBitch73: Damn Speedy, you always get the good ones. You’ll have to teach me some photography lessons sometime.

KittyCat42: what kind of camera are you using? The quality is so gooooood.

“Hey,” a woman’s voice draws his attention away from his device. “Are you staying late again tonight?”

Harrison Wells takes a breath to look her up and down, mentally running through his mind all the employees to try and remember who it is at his office door. “I’ll be headed out soon; I just have to wrap some things up.”

He recalls who she is when he sees the look she’s giving him. Brianna Masters, a specialist working down in Lab C. She would have had to go out of her way to get to his office before leaving. Self-proclaimed president of the Dr. Wells Fanclub, he had just been interacting with the group chat of; after the former president left with a job offer at Mercury Labs. She had been making goo-goo eyes at him since her interview three months ago.

“Well,” Bri twirls a curl of her hair, fluttering her eyelashes. “Harrison, you know I was wondering if you might like to take me out to get some drinks tonight?”

Dr. Wells tries to hide his displeasure at the thought. She wasn’t his type, physically, mentally, emotionally, “I have plans in the morning that require a clear head. Miss. Masters. Now is there anything of importance that you need?” The man was not adverse to flights of fancy to pass the time; he wouldn’t be keeping an eye on the little Fanclub of his if he wasn’t willing to look for ‘interested parties,’ but this particular woman has been of no real interest to him.

For reasons such as how she pouts at his response, “Well, having fun is important.” She mutters before wandering off down the hall, turning her attention to her phone.

YummyBitch73; holy Shit! He just asked me out for drinks. It sucks so much that I have to drive out to Coast City; I”d have taken him up in a heartbeat otherwise.

----

Back in Lab C, you finally finish with the maintenance on the machine. You check your phone once more while heading over to the desk and nearly cackle at what you’re reading. Everybody knows that Bri is full of shit, but there’s no point in calling it out and causing discourse.

You mute the phone to focus on your computer. While humming a quiet tune, you work on moving files to the USB stick plugged into the monitor.

“Fuck,” you whisper, seeing the download time in comparison to the clock on the screen. Of course, you could just leave it be, take the weekend off. It’s not like you get paid extra to run calculations at home.

17 minutes later

“Nonononono, wait, please!” You’re half running to the street as the bus pulls away, leaving you in the illuminated circle of a streetlamp, cursing yourself. That was going to be the last bus coming this way for the night. If you walk home, you’ll never make it in time to change for the party. You might not even make the event at all. You pace up and down the sidewalk, contemplating your options.

A car pulls up beside you, tinted window rolling down, “Need a lift?”

You stop, shocked, “Oh, no I…” you pause, looking through the window, “Dr. Wells, hi...hey.” You swallow your pride. “I would really love to get a ride on-with, with you.” Internally you cringe at how that came out, but figure he probably wouldn’t have heard such a minor slip.

The lock clicks open, and you reach for the door.

“Maple Apartments on South 11th street, right?” Harrison glances at you as you get in the car.

You pause before shutting the door, “do I want to know how you know that?”

He laughs, and you jump a bit at it, “I can see how that would sound a little suspicious.” His smile is reassuring, and his blue eyes are kind behind his glasses. “It was on your registration forms when you started. I enter new employee data myself. Total recall can be useful even for small matters.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, shutting the door and buckling in. “I really appreciate this Dr. Wells, I would have been so late tonight if I didn’t get home to change soon.”

“Bit plans tonight?” Harrison asks as he starts driving. Truth is he had suspected you’d be missing her bus. He had seen you running after the last bus or driven past you walking home numerous times out his way out. You had quite the habit of working until the absolute last moment.

You smile, twiddling your thumbs to keep your hands occupied. “Yeah, I’m meeting a friend at the new bar that opened down the street from my place. She’s getting married soon, and since I can’t make the wedding, I promised I would spend at least a couple hours at her bachelorette party.” You aren’t exactly sure why you’re volunteering this information to your boss. It would be inappropriate to be so casual with him; then again, it’s also inappropriate to be part of a Fanclub that secretly takes pictures of him and talks about how great his ass looks.

Harrison ‘hmms’ in thought. “Why can’t you make it to the wedding?” He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, taking a moment to take in the way you sit, act, look, before returning his eyes to the road.

“Oh, they scheduled it for a Wednesday, so,” you look towards him just moments after he looks away. The first thing you notice is his hair; whenever you’ve seen him in the morning, it’s perfectly combed and straight, but it seems like as the day went on, it began to take on a life of its own. While the back is still nice and neat, the front is sticking out in all kinds of directions.

“You could have asked for the day off,” Dr. Wells offers, “Am I such a terrible boss that you think I”d deny you some vacation after all your hard work?”

You feel a heat rise to your cheeks at what seems to be a compliment to her work ethic, “Oh no, I don’t think that at all. It’s just that, well, we have so much work to do. Every day we get a little closer to your dreams of the particle accelerator, and I want to contribute absolutely everything I can to that dream.” You smile. “You’re going to do such incredible things for the world of science Dr. Wells, and I don’t want to waste any time that could be spent helping you.”

The man is somewhat stunned by this. He’d attributed her long hours and determination to personal ambition. “What about you? Do you want history to remember you for your achievements?”

You bite your lower lip in thought at the question, “I mean sure, it would be nice to be recognized for my contribution, but,” she takes a deep breath, “I’m more concerned about how my work will impact the world, not so much if I’m remembered for it. Anyways you’re the true genius. I can tell that STAR Labs will make big changes and put humanity on a path towards the future. As long as I get to be a part of that, it’s all I really need.”

Harrison does a low chuckle at your sentiment, amused by the naivety. You speak with such hope and wonder and admiration. If you knew the truth, how horrified would you be? The realization of the end goal of the particle accelerator, the effects across history that your determination would wreak.

He grins, “Well, I am glad to have such a dedicated employee, but I do believe that one off day is not going to hurt our progress.”

You purse your lips, “You don’t come down to Lab C very often; you’d be surprised how off the rails things can go when I’m not there. Anyways I would rather work than go to a wedding. It’s not my kind of scene.”

He can sense that you are holding something back but doesn’t press the issue any further. He’s reached your apartment building anyways.

“If you change your mind, I’ll be more than happy to give you the time off,” he says as he parks.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you reach for the door handle, “oh, and thank you so much for the ride. I really owe you one.”

Dr. Wells makes a mental note about cashing in that favor later. “You just stay safe and enjoy yourself tonight.” He smiles warmly at you as you wave goodbye, but when the door shuts, his grin turns a bit darker. He watches you walk away, eyes tracing the curve of your figure, resting on the beautiful shape of your rear, right up until you disappear into your building.

As he begins to drive away, he catches sight of himself in the rearview mirror. There is something about this form of his that seems to drive the ladies crazy, and he wasn’t opposed to taking advantage of that. While pulling back into the street and driving away, he thinks on his situation.

For 13 years now, Eobard Thawne has been trapped in this god-forsaken time period. For a while, he had focused solely on his mission, rarely interacting with others unless it served a greater purpose. But he was still a man, subject to desire. At first, it was almost enough to make him regret allowing Harrison Well’s wife to die, she could have filled his needs easily. But that woman had been intelligent; she’d have discovered his identity eventually, so allowing her to die had been for the best.

Still, after a few years of isolation, Thawne had found the need unbearable and began seeing ways to fill the hole that was forming in his chest. Little flings, one-off nights where he indulged his carnal side, allowed himself the pleasure of another’s body before quickly parting ways with them, when he discovered that a fanclub devoted to him had been formed amongst his employees, that made the whole thing easier.

Joining the group chat under a false name was easy enough. It inflated his ego every time he read them discussing how great they thought he looked, and he was more than happy to provide material for them to gush over. And with that, it was like he had been given a list of women who would fuck him with no questions asked. All he had to do was choose. Of course, he has to be wary of those who might get too clingy or go off telling other people. But it’s not that hard to week those types out of the pack.

Thawne notices magenta neon as he’s driving. A club with a grand opening sign out front. He smiles, knowing that now not only does he have a new prey lure in, but the perfect hunting ground as well.

[multiverse-muse]

A Pretty Cage is Still a Cage

magic!reader x loki, not quite canon compliant, also on my ao3

“Have you enjoyed learning from the strange doctor?” You control your urge to grin wide as you turn to face Loki. You were taking a break in the compound’s library, which was barely ever occupied beyond yourself.

“It’s Doctor Strange.” You correct, shaking your head and rolling your eyes at him, but you can’t hide your smile.

“That’s what I said.” Loki said.

“I’ve actually been training with Wanda, thank you very much. Stephen’s technique was a little too...intellectual for me. Theory learning and such.”

“No wonder you left his teaching, your magic is inane and hardly helped through books.” Loki paused. “Midgardian books, anyway. I’m sure even his Sanctum does not have half the amount of material as my own library.”

“I can’t tell if you’re bragging or still trying to be mean about Stephen.” Loki simply grinned, giving an elegant shrug. You roll your eyes. “Welcome back, Loki.”

“I’m not back for long. Thor wanted to check in on something quickly and then we’re headed back. I was hoping you’d return with us.” Loki explained. You simply blinked at him for a long moment before realizing your mouth was hanging open.

“Wait, wait, me? Going to Asgard?” With you?” You sputter.

“And my brother, but yes, you’ve gotten the gist of it. You need a good teacher if you are to master your magic.”

“Oh, no way. I would stick out like a sore thumb in Asgard. A very ugly, very sore thumb.” You argue. A frown crosses Loki’s face.

“You should know, you’re quite a pretty thumb. Far and away prettier than most. Asgard can hardly prepare itself for you.” Loki retorts. You frown and squint your eyes at him.

“I still can’t tell if that’s a compliment or not.”

*

You had not been practicing your magic very long. Nor had you known Loki, Thor, and the other Avengers very long. You had met them only a few months ago, when a Hydra unit hit your hometown, looking for mutants to use in an army. All they found was you: you who had only had your abilities awoken during the scuffle with Hydra. After they were defeated, the Avengers offered you a place at their compound. They knew plenty of magic users who could help teach you or, if you had preferred, they had connections to Professor Xavier. You had declined that offer, preferring to learn from Loki.

Loki himself had not been with the Avengers long. After the death of his mother and his own revelation of sorts, he’d given up on conquest. He still longed for the throne, but now he planned to simply outlive Thor. Which, really, he thought wouldn’t take long, considering how many foolish things Thor gets himself involved with. His presence in the Avengers Compound made him an easy teacher to access.

This set up nicely for the two of you to become quick friends. Both on the outside of the circle, looking in and feeling out of place. Loki was better at hiding it, of course, and to an extent he did prefer to stay out of the spotlight. At least, when it came to the Avengers.

Now, you stood between the two brothers at the Bifrost, having just passed through the nauseating space tunnel thing that Thor uses to travel. Asgard loomed before you, beautiful and decadent and otherworldly. Which it was, you supposed. That and incredibly overwhelming.

“Welcome to our home.” Thor said.

“I’ve already alerted King Odin of your arrival.” You turn and spot a man who could only be Heimdall. You can’t help but appreciate his form even as the thought of Odin terrified you.

“Thank you, Heimdall.” Thor introduced the two of you officially before the two of you and Loki approached the main palace.

“What if your father doesn’t like me?” It bursts from your mouth before you can stop it and you reach out and grab onto Loki’s arm. “What if he sends me back to Earth?”

“Then he’ll only prove his own foolishness.” Loki waved away your concern easily. He took the hand on his arm and placed it in the crook of his elbow, so he was now leading you as you walked. The three of you are met at the door by a guard, joined by others as you walked, and by the time you reached the throne hall, you all had an entourage of nearly a dozen men. Someone on the other side of the door announced your presence and the door began to open. You hastily try to pull your hand from Loki’s arm, though he held tight and sent you a frowning glance.You tugged again but couldn’t budge from him.

“My sons!” Odin greeted from the throne. He was just as intimidating as you’d expected and if not for your hand still being in Loki’s grasp, you’re sure you would’ve either fainted or ran back out the door. “And our honored guest! Welcome to Asgard, milady.”

“Oh, ah, th-thank you!” You squeak out, then whisper to Thor, “Do I bow? Curtsy?”

“You may do either, if you feel the need but I do not require anyone to do so, particularly guests who may be unaware of traditions.” Odin eased your worry. He and the boys spoke for a moment before his attention turned back to you. “Now, as I understand, you are learning magic from my son. I’m curious to see where your abilities lie now, before his teaching.”

“Ah, yes, Your Majesty.” You glance at Loki and Thor with wide eyes before facing King Odin fully. You take a deep breath and raise your hands. One thing you’d learned while training with Dr. Strange and Wanda was that your powers came from feelings, not thoughts. As such, your magic tended to be temperamental. This time however, you channeled your nervousness into a solid energy and opened your eyes to see orbs of pale yellow light floating through the chamber.

“It’s not much.” You admit, lowering your hands. The orbs hang for a few moments before they start to fade, one by one. One falls to the floor and changes shape into that of a cat, which nudges Loki’s leg before disappearing. “But I’m learning.”

“I expect my son will do a good job teaching you, I am curious to see your abilities develop. Now, I allow you all to retire and clean up, for there will be a festive dinner tonight to celebrate your arrival home.” You’re all escorted from the throne room and then led to your chambers. The boys obviously knew where their own rooms were but neither seemed sure where you were meant to go. That question was answered by one of the guards stationed outside Thor’s room.

“One of the spare rooms connecting to Prince Loki’s chambers has been fitted out as a guest’s chambers. King Odin assumed she’d want to be near those she knew.” You sighed with relief even as your heart skipped a beat. You hadn’t expected to be staying so close to Loki.

“Good, good! I will meet the two of you before dinner.” Thor grinned at you and Loki before entering his room. The guards continued to escort you and Loki down the hallway.

“Where’s your room?” You ask. You feel Loki’s arm tense and realize you’ve left your hand in the crook of his elbow.

“Just another hallway or so down. Impatient to get into my private chambers?” Loki smirked and you rolled your eyes in response.

“I believe I remember someone promising me that the baths here are fantastic. I didn’t know if I should take one before dinner.” You said. You’re led down a set of stairs to another floor. Loki takes a deep, steadying breath before continuing on down the stairs. The lights seemed to be more abrasive down here, the air cooler. The guards finally stop at a door and gesture you towards it.

“Well, here we are. Home, sweet home.” Loki finally lets your hand drop free and he strolls into the room. After a moment of silence and looking at the guards, you finally follow him through. The first room is simply an antechamber and had three doors leading out. One was still closed, one leading further into a living room style chamber and the last seemed to be a bathroom of sorts. There were no windows in any of the rooms that you could see. The colors were all muted and it felt even chillier in here than in the hallway. You followed Loki into the living room.

“Why is it so…” You trailed off, not wanting to offend Loki if this was how he had meant his rooms to be.

“Bland? Oppressive?” Loki offered.

“I was going to say cold.” You mumble.

“Yes, that too.” Loki lets out a long sigh. “They don’t trust me in the royal corridor. They want me somewhere easy to watch, so they can keep an eye on me. They trust me only enough to go out with Thor. When he is gone, this is where I remain.”

“That’s...sad.” You said. Loki turned to you with a mild glare.

“I do not want your pity.” He snapped. You shake your head.

“No pity, Loki, it’s just sympathy.” You look around the room. Loki had obviously lived here a while: books littered every shelf and flat surface, a few pieces of clothing were tossed over furniture. But it still felt stifling, like there wasn’t quite room to breath. “They’re still keeping you locked up.”

“At least I’m no longer in the prison even further below, locked in a cage among those mongrels.” Loki all but snarls.

“It doesn’t matter how pretty it is, Loki, a cage is still a cage.” You regard the room again while Loki regards you. He walks over to you, looking contemplative.

“You’re the only one who sees this the way I do. My father tells me he loves me, yet there’s chains on the door at night.” Loki muses.

“Really?” You ask in disbelief.

“No, of course not, simple chains would not stop me.” Loki gives you a sly grin and you just give him a deadpan stare. “But, thank you for the...sympathy. Now, go on to your room. Make sure you look decent. If you get bored, you know where to find me.”

*

Dinner was not as wild an affair as you’d feared it would be. Thor explained that feasts were more festive, but a simple welcome home ‘fancy dinner’ was not enough of a cause for the Asgardians to go crazy. Not since Thor and Loki now returned home regularly, anyway. You were quiet all through dinner, mostly due to nerves and the fear that you’d open your mouth and call Odin out for how he still locked Loki away like a bird.

Dinner and the next few days melted away quickly. During morning hours, Loki trained you to use your powers. Afternoons were spent exploring Asgard, meeting people, and warrior training. You didn’t participate in the warrior training. That was specifically for Loki and Thor, occasionally with Sif, the Warriors Three, and/or Brunnhilde. Mostly you read through these sessions, enjoying the outdoors but staying far removed from the scuffles.

“She’s not looking, you can stop trying to show off.” Brunnhilde said, clipping Loki on the shoulder as they were sparring.

“I beg your pardon?” Loki asked. Brunnhilde rolled her eyes and easily ducked the strike of his dagger. There was a reason Loki preferred magic to actual combat.

“You’ve been showing off, hoping she’s watching. We’re not dumb.” She glances over to Thor and Volstagg, who were tangled in some strange wrestling. “I’m not dumb.” She replied. She disarmed him easily and then knocked him onto his ass. Without thinking, he glanced at you, though you were too absorbed in the book you held and didn’t see him looking so foolish. Loki sighed in relief and then started when Brunnhilde snorted.

“You brothers and your Midgardians.” She strut off over to Sif and Loki had to help himself up out of the dirt.

*

“See, you’re not terrible at this.” Loki said.

“Thanks.” You reply sarcastically, concentrating on the pale yellow shield you’d managed to form around yourself. “That sounds an awful lot like you mean I’m not good at it.”

“I didn’t say that.” Loki grins. You roll your eyes and the magic shield drops. You lower your hands and throw yourself onto the nearby couch. It was easiest for you both to train in Loki’s chambers than to go to any other space where you’d have a handful of guards watching your and Loki’s everymove.

“Can I be done? For a little while?” You grumble. Magic was hard. Magic was tiring. And spending so much time with Loki was making you worry that your heart was going to give out.

“We’ve barely begun.” Loki replies, though he joins you on the couch.

“We can just chill for a while. You’ve been training me and then training with Thor, you must be exhausted.” You say. He simply hums in reply, waving his hand and making a book appear. You grin to yourself, before settling more comfortably into the couch. Every once in a while, Loki would read a passage of the book aloud to you, if he thought it funny or clever or interesting.

The next thing you knew, you were blinking awake slowly. You panicked a moment as someone touched you before realizing it was just someone playing with your hair. It took another moment to realize who it must have been. You were draped across Loki, your head in his lap while he kept reading, his free hand running through your hair. You close your eyes to savor the moment. Loki chuckles lowly to himself and you take a breath to steel yourself.

“What’s funny?” You mumble. Loki’s hand immediately disappears from your hair.

“Just the author being an incompetent fool.” Loki answers. You finally sit up, rubbing your eyes, while Loki gives you a mildly amused look. “Did you enjoy your nap?”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” You whine, blushing. Loki sets his book to the side and shifts slightly to face you more.

“Someone came by while you slept. My father is preparing a feast to celebrate the beginning of Jul. As an honored guest of his sons, you are required to go.” Loki’s face formed into an unhappy frown. “As a son, I am required to go.”

“So...like the welcoming feast but worse?” You ask. Loki rises, returning his book to the shelf but answering you as he goes.

“The dinner you attended on your first night was not even a true feast. This feast will last for hours, go late into the evening, requires dancing, and almost certainly will end with my brother being so drunk he does something ridiculous.”

“Oh. Wait! What am I supposed to wear?” You ask. When you’d arrived, you’d been brought a variety of garments to choose from. You preferred pants and a top over the dresses that were offered to you, though they were pretty. Simple Asgardian clothing was still fancier than anything you’d ever owned back on Earth. Even still, everything you had at your disposal was not suited for a fancy gathering.

“Clothing, probably.” Loki’s grin turned mischievous. “Or nothing, if you’d prefer, though I would suggest keeping to the chambers if you decide to run around nude.” You throw the pillow from the couch at him, which he easily waves away with a chuckle.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you? You ass.” You scoff at him, trying to hide the blush rising. You rise from the couch, checking the clock on the wall. You’d barely learned to read the Asgardian script but you could tell it was time for lunch. Your attention was dragged back to Loki as he approached you.

“Is that such a problem, if I would enjoy it?” Loki asked lowly, reaching up and tucking some hair back behind your ear. You really were blushing now, hardly able to keep eye contact with him.

“Loki-” You were cut off as a bang! came from the door.

“Brother! Y/N!” Thor called from beyond the door. You rushed away from Loki, feeling suddenly very out of breath and very disappointed. You opened the door to reveal a grinning Thor. “Volstagg and his family has invited us for lunch, if you liked to join.”

“That sounds nice.” You say without thinking. You both look towards Loki who has an unreadable expression on his face.

“I’ll stay and eat here, I’d rather not deal with the miniature Volstaggs running around.” Loki comments. You deflated a bit but Thor looked even more disappointed. So you held your tongue, still agreeing to go with Thor, and waved goodbye to Loki, promising to see him later.

***

The next few weeks were spent as the last few, except now most attendees of Odin were running around in a buzz, setting up for the Jul feast. You and Loki had both seemingly decided not to acknowledge whatever it was that was happening before Thor had interrupted you both. Loki had assured you that he’d take care of your attire for the feast, so you had nothing to worry about other than learning Asgardian dances so as not to make a fool of yourself.

More often than not, it was Sif or Brunnhilde who took the time to teach you. Loki and Thor were getting pulled into meetings and off-world visitations with Odin, leaving you to the girls and Warriors Three. You didn’t mind it so much. Brunnhilde was certainly becoming a fast friend and who couldn’t like Volstagg? The others were still in the acquaintance category, though that was changing too.

The morning of the feast, you woke early (though there were no windows with which to really tell the time). You were a ball of nerves and as the day went on, they simply got worse. Loki was nowhere to be found in his chambers or the common areas you two shared. The guard outside the door (only one, since Loki wasn’t present) assures you he’d return to fetch you for the feast and that lunch would be brought to you. So you spent the majority of the afternoon into evening by yourself, fretting and pacing around, while occasionally trying to concentrate on practicing your magic.

You’re startled in the early evening when the main door flies open, Loki sweeping into a room with an armful of boxes.

“I’ve got your dress here, we’d better dress quickly, as my father is an impatient man and it will do us better to arrive fashionably on time rather than late.” Loki said this as he handed you a box. “I’d much rather wait and make a dramatic entrance, but alas.”

“Thanks,” You mumble, taking the box from him. It was quite heavy.

“I’ll have your shoes set out here whenever you’re done.” Loki’s voice followed you to your room. You shut the door softly behind you and then dumped the box on the bed, carefully pulling out the dress from within. The green fabric was a heavy velvet type, but soft and you hoped it wouldn’t be too warm. It wasn’t until you’d stripped and pulled the dress on that you’d realized the type of neckline it had.

“Loki!” You screech, all but stomping out of your room and into the common room. You hands held up the very low neckline and covered the expanse of chest and cleavage it left exposed. Loki’s door was slightly ajar and he poked his head around to look at you. A slow grin worked its way across his face. “I can’t wear this!”

“Obviously you can. Give me a moment to fully dress.” Loki disappeared back behind his door, though you could swear you heard him chuckling slightly.

You went back to the mirror in your room and examined yourself in the dress. The heavy velvet helped the dress lay in a flattering way across your body, down to the floor, though the long slit in the front made you nervous to walk. The bardot neckline would’ve been nice had it been an inch or so higher, but currently it showed off a little too much of your chest for you to be comfortable, especially considering the v-shaped notch in the front that showed off a hint of the skin between your breasts. The off-the-shoulder sleeves were just a thick band of the same velvet and surprisingly didn’t restrict your movement too much.

“Alright, what was the issue?” Loki called. You slowly trudged to the shared room, moving your arms back up to cover your chest. And you stilled in the doorway. Loki has always cleaned up nicely but you’d never seen him go all out in a suit and tie. It was a very modern, very Earth style outfit, all black except for the silky green shirt beneath the jacket (a green that nearly matched the color of your dress, you noted absentmindedly). He had smoothed his hair back so it lay across his shoulders but out of his face. As you looked him up and down, he did the same to you. “You’ve not even put on the shoes.”

Loki picked up a box near the couch before approaching you, opening it to reveal dainty and strappy golden heels. When you didn’t make a move to take them, he rolled his eyes with a slight smile on his face.

“You’re meant to put them on.” Loki said.

“I-I can’t bend over to put them on.” You said distractedly, eyes still lingering on his lean form. He huffed but tugged on your arm, leading you to the couch.

“Sit.” You did. You kept your arms covering your chest but almost dropped them in surprise when Loki knelt, slipping the shoes on your feet quickly and with ease. “There, now, up.” You stood shakily, though the heels proved to be sturdier than they appeared.

“I can’t wear this to the feast, Loki.” You repeated. Loki shook his head.

“And why not? I chose this style especially for you, picked out the fabric and everything.” Loki...was he pouting? “There’s no time for a new one to be made.”

“I didn’t need a special made dress. I would’ve stood out badly enough in a regular Asgardian dress. This is....too much. For me.” You almost reach out to him but at the last minute remember what your hands are covering. The small movement catches Loki’s gaze and he frowns again, nearly unnoticeable but there. He reaches out slowly, taking both of your wrists in his hands.

His eyes seek yours, anticipating you to stop him, but you don’t. You can’t bring yourself to do so. If there’s anyone is this realm you trust, it’s Loki.He pulls your hands away from your chest, bringing them down between the two of you. His eyes sweep across your figure and you can’t stop the heat rising to your face, your ears.

“Just a moment, dear.” Loki disappears into his room for just a moment before emerging again, something cradled in his hands. He pockets it before pulling your hair up and away from your neck , though if he makes it stay with pins or magic, you aren’t sure. Then from his pocket he pulls out the necklace he’d fetched from his room. It’s all dainty gold chain, except for the large emerald colored jewel hanging in the center.

You shiver as his hands go around your neck, fastening the necklace. It sits heavily along your chest, the many loops of chains almost tickling your skin. The stone sits nicely just above the middle of your breasts, a large shimmering stone that complemented the dress nicely. When Loki didn’t remove his hands, you finally gain the courage to look up at him. His gaze lingers a moment longer on your chest before meeting your gaze. He almost looks tinged rosy himself but he offers a soft smile and steps back.

“There. Perfection in mortal form.” Loki smiles at his work and, yes, it is a beautiful outfit, but you are still distracted with the amount of skin you’re exposing. “Any more unnecessary complaints?”

“No.” You mumble. Loki was not going to let you change, you’d finally accepted that. “Loki, are you really wearing an Earth suit? To an Asgardian feast?”

“I thought it looked quite fetching, and judging by your staring earlier, I would assume you did as well.” You shot him an unamused and slightly blushing look. “Besides, I am one of the royals Princes, and Gods know Thor never looks the part.” You snort at that, shaking your head.

“They’re gonna stare, so much.” You whine. Loki smiles.

“That’s what I’m counting on.”

***

“You look ready to die.” Brunnhilde says as she sidles up to you. You nearly jump out of your skin, your drink sloshing almost out of the glass.

“No one is talking to me, no one has asked me to dance.” You hiss at her. You’d watched as the evening wore on and many people had approached the other women for dances. Loki and Thor had been swept into the political meet-and-greets so you’d been sitting mostly alone, save for the few times Brunnhilde or Sif had stopped to check on you. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Well, you can blame Loki for no one trying to dance with you, you know.” Brunnhilde said. At your confused look she sighed and pointed at your necklace. It glimmered even in the dim room and seemed to swirl with magic. “That necklace is like a land claim. He’s using it to warn other men to stay away from you.”

“What?” You reach up to handle the stone, which was warm to the touch. You frown at the idea of Loki’s possessiveness and try to unhook it from your neck. Your fingers scramble against the back of the necklace but find no purchase: there was no way to remove it.

“To be fair,” Brunnhilde continues, sipping her drink, “You do look incredible in that dress. I can’t blame him for wanting to keep you to himself.” You clumsily excuse yourself from her company, heading straight for an empty balcony. You needed the fresh air, to breath. You stood out there for who knows how long before you sensed a presence behind you.

“Are you out here hiding?” Loki asked, joining you at the railing. You turn to him with a furrowed brow.

“No, not that it matters. No one in there would speak with me anyway.” You say and a confused look crosses his face, before you jab your finger towards the necklace around your neck. The confused look fades into almost a sheepish look but that too quickly disappears.

“I suppose Brunnhilde told you what it implies? I saw the two of you speaking.”

“Yes, she did tell me. Unlike you.” You cross your arms. The movement causes Loki to glance down and his eyes linger on your gilded chest. Realizing this, you quickly uncross your arms. You poke him in the chest. “Quit, just- Stop staring!”

“My apologies, it can be hard to look away from an image so tantalizing.” Loki curls his hand around the one you’d used to poke him. He didn’t let it go, simply held on to it, connecting the two of you.

“Stop teasing me.” You huff.

“How am I teasing? I am stating the truth.” He says it simply.

“Loki,” You start but nearly choke on the feeling of your heart in your throat. Why is it that Loki, that liking Loki, can make you so nervous?

“Yes, ástin mín?” You pause, taken aback by the use of the Asgardian language.

“What? What does that mean?” You ask. Loki sighs, not out of impatience or annoyance but as if to steel himself.

“I recognize I have perhaps been unfair to you, Y/N.” Loki says, his thumb lightly rubbing the one of yours that he is holding. “I had you wear the necklace for myself, not for you. I reasoned that it would protect you from untoward advances, thought it didn’t cross my mind you might would have wanted the attention.”

“I’m-what? No, no, I wouldn’t have wanted to deal with other people in there.” You shake your head. “I just felt like no one wanted to have anything to do with me because I’m an outsider.”

“I’m sorry that I am the cause of you feeling such a way. Might you forgive me?” Loki asks. You smile but smile meekly up at him.

“Only if you tell me what you called me a minute ago.” You say. Loki stills.

“Ask of me anything else and I’ll oblige.” Loki says. He keeps his eyes down, away from you. He tries to pull his hand from you but you hold on tighter to him.

“Nothing you could say could make me leave, Loki.” You say, sounding confident despite your nerves. “You could call me an old hag and I’d still...You’d still be my favorite person.”

“You would still?” Curse Loki and his unwavering attentiveness. You shake your head, unable to say the words. Loki’s expression lifts, a slight smile curling across his features. He takes one step towards you, then another, until there is barely any space between you.

“If you would stop me,” Loki says, his voice almost a whisper as he leans closer to you, “Do so now, before I cannot stop myself.” You say nothing.

The kiss is soft at first, a tentative touch. Loki was waiting for you to stop him, you realize. To refuse him. You reach up with your free hand and grasp his lapel lightly. It’s a light touch but it's enough for him to feel and understand. He drops the hand of yours he had been holding so he could bring both of his hands to your face, cradling your face between his hands as he pulls away just slightly from you.

The look on Loki’s face is an extraordinary one. All of his armor had fallen away and you were finally seeing him as he wanted to be. He was unguarded and looking at you as if you were the only source of warmth he’d found in decades.

“Ástin mín. It means my love.” You can’t help but stare at Loki at those words, heart pounding in your chest. Even as your heart stutters, you tug on his jacket, tugging him back to you.

This kiss is more heated, less slow. Loki’s hands still curl around your face, sliding into your hair and pulling you ever closer. You loop your arms around his neck, thankful for the heels that boost your height just enough to do so without stretching terribly far. The kiss is needy, as Loki pulls you impossibly close to him.

“Excuse me, sire.” The two of you part at the words, Loki barely tilting his head to look towards the guard.

“What is it?” Loki asks, bitingly. He hands dropped from your face to your hips, still holding you near him.

“Your father says that your presence is being missed.” The guard speaks uneasily, obviously unnerved by Loki’s glare.

“My father can wait. Now, leave us.” Loki orders. The guard does not hesitate to scramble back inside. Loki looks back to you, with an amused look on his face. “Do you even see what you’re doing?”

“What?” You look around and see magic orbs of yellow floating around the two of you, swirls of the same magic wrapping around the two of you. “Oh, my god.”

“Feeling-based magic is a bit of a giveaway, is it not?” Loki teases softly and you bury your head into his chest, groaning in embarrassment. He laughs lightly, a laugh you’ve so rarely heard. “I cannot complain, I suppose. It is gratifying to see the reaction I cause within you.”

“You are going to be so insufferable.” You mumble into his chest. You sense the smile on his face and end up smiling yourself when you feel him plant a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“I suppose we’d better head back to the feast, before my father sends Thor after us. That’s not a conversation I feel particularly up to. And if we’re lucky, we’ll sneak away early.”

[duuhrayliegh]

Fuck Misogyny

request: Bucky uses his newly gained knowledge of feminism to squash misogynistic interview questions. @ptrs-prkrs

warnings: language, creepy men, feminist!bucky

a/n: hey babes!! i hope this lived up to what you wanted! i couldn’t find the exact video you were referencing but i know what you’re talking about, so i drew inspiration from a few others.

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

xoxo ray

full m.list

The set up was simple. A long row of fold out tables covered in black fabric, microphones in front of each seat. Black papers were taped to the backs of the microphones with each team member's name. Bucky had told Evie that he wasn’t going to be able to work out with her today because of this so it better be worth it. The PR manager for the team, Amanda, had set everything up. Hired the mediator, notified the press, everything. Ever since they announced that they were going to be hosting an Avenger’s Q&A Panel, the internet quite literally broke.

Of course Bucky had been doing lives on TikTok with the group of five for the past couple of weeks now, so he was becoming quite comfortable in this format. He’s become increasingly active on his social media accounts, gaining more and more followers everyday. Granted, there were still haters, as Freddie called them, but Bucky ignored them for the most part.

Bucky was actually excited for this press meeting. He was finally gaining traction in the media and he knew how to correctly answer their questions. As Amanda had explained, there was going to be several questions from the mediator, tons from the press that they had invited, and then some fan questions as well. They apparently were going to be live streaming the conference on YouTube allowing them to read the comments and questions as it went on.

“Okay, everyone. You have two minutes until we start.” The team was in an empty board room in the Hilton hotel. Tony didn’t want everyone on the compound’s grass because he just had it fixed. Bucky scanned his fellow teammates. It was impossible for everyone to dress for the same event. Steve was wearing a shirt that was almost bursting at the seams with a pair of jeans and sneakers.

Tony was wearing a lovely Tom Ford, three piece, two-button, of course. Natasha and Wanda were wearing ripped jeans and casual tops. Vision was wearing a sweater vest and slacks, Bruce was clad in slacks as well a jacket covering his shoulders. Sam was wearing a button-up shirt and pressed jeans and he couldn’t find Clint anywhere, probably hiding in the rafters again.

Bucky had his iconic leather jacket donning his shoulders, a pair of slightly ripped jeans. His outfit was picked out by Cassie and Penny. “You need to look like you care but like you don’t at the same time.” Is what they said, the phrase made Bucky shake his head. His hair had finally started growing back and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it.

He had gotten help from Evie before he left Cassie’s apartment. She had pulled back the top half, braiding back two sections into the bun at the back of his head. There were pieces dangling in front of his eyes, “to accentuate the facial features, trust me they’ll love it.” Was Evie’s explanation as they pushed him out of the apartment, so he wouldn’t be late.

“Alright guys! They’re calling your names!” The team filed out of the board room and into a large ballroom. Bottles of water were placed beside each placemat. Tony went out first, followed by Steve, then Bruce, Natasha, Clint, Wanda, Vision, Sam and ending with Bucky. They all settled into their seats, Bucky peeled his jacket off himself, placing it on the back of his chair. His black short sleeved shirt highlighted the gold inlays of his vibranium arm.

“Oh, I see we’re showing some muscle today huh, Buck?” Sam teased as Bucky took his seat next to him. Bucky groaned in realization, covering his microphone so it didn’t pick up what he planned to say.

“Good God, is this what it’s going to be like the entire panel? You just bugging the shit outta me?” They shared a laugh making the rest of the members look at the pair. The audience clapped as they were introduced and continued clapping as they assembled before them.

“Thank you. We would like to welcome everyone to the first, of hopefully many, Avenger’s Q&A Panel.” The female mediator, Stacey, read the assigned lines off the sheet on her podium. “We are going to start with questions we curated for the team and then open it up to the members of the press. After that we will turn to our live stream and answer some viewer questions.” The press rustled in their seats, pulling out pens and journals as well as their phones to record. “Okay, starting off with a question directed at the Avengers in general. How are you feeling about coming before the media in this type of format?” Glances were exchanged between the members, not sure on who was going to start.

“I feel that this is a great way for the general public to learn a little bit more about each individual team member.” Vision was the first to respond and Steve added on.

“Yeah, I definitely think that there’s a common misconception that we don’t want to engage with the media or the general public. We do, unfortunately due to the amount of research and training that we are doing behind the scenes, it just goes to the back of our minds.”

“Right. So Tony and Bruce, we all know that you two are geniuses. What are your feelings on expanding the teachings of STEM courses to not only high school, but as far back as elementary school or even kindergarten?” The pair thought about the question before answering.

“Well, I definitely think that offering STEM-based classes at a younger age would be beneficial, especially if we were to allow the kids to continue to switch what they want to focus on.” Bruce started. “It’s incredibly anxiety-inducing for teenagers to have to decide what they’re going to do with their life right before they are thrust into an unforgiving world.”

“Yeah, I’ll never understand why we do that to our future leaders, it’s honestly baffling. Why do American schools wait until high school to require our children to learn foriegn languages, they aren’t going to retain that information. The same applies for such comprehensive courses like STEM-based ones. If you wait until their brains are already developed so far, then they’ve already decided what they think is interesting and if they don’t find those courses interesting then they aren’t going to pay attention.” Tony finished Bruce's thought before nodding to each other smugly, obviously proud of themselves for answering the question so well.

“Interesting that you see it that way. This last one goes out to everyone and then we’ll open it up to the reporters. How do you deal with the stress and anxiety that comes with being an Avenger? Do you feel a certain amount of pressure to always do the right thing?” Stacey shuffled her papers, tapping them twice on the podium.

“We all have our own routines and ways that we decompress after missions so that really just depends on the person. Like I think that Bruce listens to opera music, and Wanda mediatates, Tony tinkers. It depends on the person.” Natasha answered concisely, making Bucky nod his head. He could recall all of those things to be true.

“Oh definitely, and it doesn’t hurt that we have a former VA Trauma Counselor on board to help us work through the harder stuff.” Steve added a gesture of his head to Sam.

“Speaking of that Sam, just a quick question before we open it up. How difficult was it for you to transition from regular Air Force missions to Avenger level missions?” Sam made a face at Stacey before answering.

“Um, I mean, it’s not that different. You’re always fighting one of the Big Three-- aliens, androids, or wizards, no matter what department you’re working with. The only transition I had to deal with was the Tony Stark-erized suits. Now that I think of it, Tony, can we make it tighter?” Sam quipped making the room laugh with ease.

“Alright, well now we’re going to open it up to the reporters. Starting with this gentleman in the front and then if we could also give a microphone to someone on that side of the room. Okay, thank you.” The first reporter stood up, holding the microphone in one hand and his phone in the other.

“Hello. John from Huffington Post. The Avengers inspire almost everyone around the world, so we would like to know who inspires you? Who do you look up to in terms of your idols?” He sat back down as the team contemplated their answers.

“Gandhi.” Bruce said, Tony snapped his fingers and pointed at him then added. “Pepper, she’s so amazing.” Steve looked down to Bucky, who shrugged.

“I would probably have to say that my sister, Sarah, inspires me. She raised her two sons, Cas and AJ, by herself after the Blip and was able to keep the family business going.” Sam’s answer made Bucky smile. Sam had brought him to their house in Delacroix, he remembered waking up to Cas and AJ playing in the kitchen, happy giggles filtering through reminding him of his time in Wakanda. By the time that Bucky had refocused on the conversation they had moved on without his answer. Several different questions went by, all directed to the team at large, until Chad.

“Hi, I’m Chad for the Daily Mail. My question is for Wanda and Natasha.” The pair of women perked up, excited to have a specific question. “Do you find that your equipment hinders you in doing your job as well as your male counterparts?” Stunned expressions settled over the womens faces, then annoyance. Bucky’s brows shot up to his hairline, appalled that someone had the balls to ask that. Wanda and Natasha handled the question with grace and much more restraint than Bucky would have.

“Well for me, I am able to move things with my mind so I can throw things randomly at people even if I’m not in the room. I’ve been very fortunate to work with Natasha who has Widow training, so my hand to hand combat is improving immensely. And being able to work with Princess Shuri in Wakanda to learn how to fully control my powers. It’s an ever evolving process that I’m always excited to take on.” Bucky nodded and turned his attention to Natasha.

“My favorite thing is training with either Steve or Bucky because they push me to do my best. We all have our specialties here and it’s nice to learn new skills or improve old ones with people who support you.” Natasha sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, throwing daggers with her eyes at Chad in the audience, waiting for him to say something else. Chad stood again, yelling so he could be heard over the crowd’s commotion.

“That’s great, ladies, but forgive me, you didn’t answer the question I asked.” Bucky pushed forward in his seat, leaning into his microphone.

“I’m sorry, I think I misunderstood what you asked them then. I would like for you to clarify what you mean by equipment.” Chad balked, not expecting a male’s voice to respond.

“You know what’s implied by equipment, sir.” Bucky’s jaw clenched at the man.

“Did you just ask two of the most capable women that I’ve ever known, if their equipment, which I’m assuming you’re referring their breasts, made it to where they couldn’t do their job as good as the rest of their male counterparts. Just to be clear, that’s what you’re asking?” Chad stuttered as he answered yes.

“Right, well first off that’s disgusting. Just a bit of background for you, Wanda is the strongest Avenger here, plain and simple. As for Natasha, she’s the smartest woman I’ve ever met and she can take down every single male here.” Bucky took a breath before continuing. “So, what I think you really want to know is how they encourage their teammates to keep up with them.” He dropped his head to look at the two women down the line.

“Don’t worry Chad, I’ll ask them the right question, since you can’t quite seem to understand how to respect women.” The team was holding back snickers at Chad’s reaction. “Wanda, Natasha. Chad wants to know how the hell you push your male teammates to be just as good as you are. What are your strategies to keep us on our toes while training?” Claps sounded from the women press members and Bucky awaited the pair's response. The next press member stood and asked a question.

“Hi, I’m Chloe from Vanity Fair. This question goes to everyone on the panel.” Bucky settled in for another question that didn’t matter. “How do you continue to be aware of things happening in our society today? Do you keep up-to-date through new channels, or social media?” The answers were rather generic from the team, all of them rather uncomfortable from the tension that Bucky and Chad had created. Stacey interrupted after Chloe’s question.

“Okay, we’re going to open it up to viewer questions from our live stream.” An iPad was placed on the podium in front of Stacey and her eyebrows rose. “Okay, there’s quite a variety here. Here’s one for Steve and Bucky.” Bucky perked up, nervous to answer because his adrenaline had worn off.

“One viewer asks, ‘Steve and Bucky, being from the 40’s, women were treated like second thoughts and were talked about like objects. Now, you’re in the 21st century, not much has changed. What have you been doing to support feminist causes?’”

“I just want to say that everyone should be answering this. It’s true that during the 40’s women were not treated the right way, and they still aren’t today. An 18 year old can’t walk down the street at nine o’clock at night without being catcalled. I am a proud feminist, as everyone should be. I think that as a team we are doing pretty well in that department. As far as what I’m doing to support feminist causes, I’m doing as much as I can. I actually recently enrolled in online classes to expand my knowledge on many subjects, seeing as how I am from the 40’s and all.” The crowd laughed along with Bucky.

“Almost all of my classes have to do with either psychology or gender studies, it’s a fascinatingly haunting subject. One book that I’m reading right now was suggested to me by my friend Cassie, it’s called Hood Feminism: Notes from the Women that a Movement Forgot. The author doesn’t let up and I’m only halfway through it. Look, I’m still educating myself, but I’m a strong believer in doing what is right for everyone, so I’m trying. Thankfully I have a few people keeping me in check as far as my actions.” Bucky thought his response was well thought out for being an on the fly question. He was new to the concept of feminism but that didn’t change the fact that it made total sense.

“I’m with Bucky on this. The 40’s were a rough time. I remember the first time I met Peggy Carter, I was astonished that a woman could be in such a powerful position. One of the first things she did after I met her was punch out someone who made a sexual comment to her. I’ve been supporting feminist causes ever since working with Peggy.” Steve added, a sad smile spreading on his face reminiscing Peggy.

“This one says, ‘As a total fan of all of you, I love seeing what you post on your social media accounts. When are the rest of the Avengers going to follow Bucky’s lead and download TikTok?’” Bucky’s head flew back into a full body laugh. Tony shifted forward in his seat, pointing his finger at the laughing man down the table.

“I would just like to say he didn’t get that approved before doing it. However, it did go over really well, so we’ll consider it.” Wanda’s mouth rolled inwards, stifling her laughter.

“We’ll consider it, you’re such an old man. Most of us have TikTok already, we just don’t make content on it like Barnes over here.” Sam said, tossing his head in Bucky’s direction.

“I’ve got like three videos on there!” Bucky and Sam began bantering back and forth.

“Yeah and one of them is dancing to a Cardi B song! Who even showed you that? I thought you only like 40’s music?” Bucky made a face at the man.

“Uh, just because I didn’t like your suggestions for music doesn’t mean I don’t have taste. My Spotify playlist is filling out quite nicely, Wilson.” Bucky and Sam didn’t quit fighting from then on, just little jabs at each other under the table.

“Here’s a good one,” Stacey had a smile on her face, “Are you allies of the LGBTQ+ community?” Bucky responded quickly with no hesitation.

“Yes, many of my friends are members of the Alphabet Mafia. Why wouldn’t we be?” Wanda nodded at his question, laughing at his use of the phrase Alphabet Mafia.

“Yeah, absolutely. I mean, I’m dating a fucking android, I’d be pretty hypocrictal if I wasn’t an ally. Nat, Clint what about you?” Clint bobbed his head in response.

“Oh yeah. We all are, even the Star Spangled Man with a Plan.” Steve’s shoulders shook with laughter at Clint’s nickname for him. The team broke out into laughter, joining Steve. Stacey cleared her throat, commanding the attention of the room again.

“Alright, everybody! That’s it for today.” She glanced down at her papers. “We would like to thank everyone for coming out today and joining the Avengers Q&A Panel. At this time we are unaware, if we will be conducting another one of these, but the odds look good based on the response.” The team filed out of the ballroom and into the empty boardroom. Bucky was the last to get into the room and he was approached by Natasha and Wanda immediately. Wanda wrapped her arms around him in a bear hug.

“That was so sick, Bucky!” She stepped back and Natasha offered him a side hug as well. “Where’d you learn all that? And since when are you taking online classes?”

“That guy was being an asshole, he needed to be put in his place. I hope you guys didn’t feel like I overstepped or anything.” Bucky hung his arm over Wanda’s shoulder, leaning his weight on her. “And I started about two months ago. They’re going really well, I’m learning a lot and enjoying it surprisingly. It’s a good thing to do in my free time since I’m not always on missions.”

“I’m proud of you James, that was impressive.” Natasha complimented him, she wasn’t usually a woman of many words so that was a lot. Bucky smiled at her, nodding his head. His phone began buzzing in his back pocket, so he excused himself from their conversation. His screen displayed one of Evie’s senior pictures, signalling that she was calling him. He pushed the green button and brought the phone to his ear to answer her call.

“Hello?” She ignored his greeting with a squeal.

“Check your Twitter! Bucky, you’re trending! Here I’m putting you on speaker, we’re all here Buck!” Shuffling noises were heard through the speaker as Evie began reading the tweets to Bucky. Laughs from Cassie, Freddie and Penny could be heard behind Evie’s voice.

“Oh my gosh Eve! Just let the man get back to what he was doing!” Freddie yelled at an excited Evie, who retaliated with a scoff.

“Okay, okay! Just remember we have a movie night tomorrow! It’s Penny’s turn to pick so we don’t know what to expect.” Evie mumbled the last part into her phone speaker. Bucky heard the impact of a pillow hit Evie, causing her to grunt in pain. “Okay! We’ll talk to you later, Buck! See you soon!” She hung up the phone before he could get a word in edgewise. Bucky shook his head as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. Amanda approached Bucky asking to speak with him privately.

“So we’re getting a flood of interview requests from networks and papers. We would like to start running with this. We’ll have to go over everything with our PR guy, Ryan, but it should work out. As long as you’re comfortable with all of this.” Bucky smiled and nodded, following after Amanda as she continued explaining what would happen going forward.

He was nervous, of course, but he could tell these nerves were coming from a place of excitement instead of fear, which was a new sensation for the man. It wasn’t unwelcome, it was the same as when he first started hanging out with Cassie, Penny, Freddie and Evie. It was the same when he went on his first mission with the team. Bucky was ready to tackle this next adventure, whatever it would entail.

[nalu4emily]

The Unexpected Reward - Chapter 18

Summary: Natsu and Lucy go on a job together, but what they bring home is something neither anticipated. Forced to make a life changing decision, they have to adapt quickly, but that's never easy, especially given the circumstances. As they work together on their toughest adventure yet, they find themselves drawn to one another, in ways they never realised.

Rated mature for a reason. Although this chapter is all fluff.

With one last glance in the mirror, Lucy eyed herself closely in the reflection. Her eyes followed the movement of her manicured hand slowly drifting down the length of the lacy bodice, smoothing over a few creases in the skirt before finally resting under her bump. She studied the silk material carefully, appreciating the way it flowed off of her curvaceous body and delicately trailed along the floor behind.

It was beautiful, unlike the enormous meringue-like frock her friends had so graciously picked out for her. Gone were the days of wearing intricately designed, overly priced, princess dresses that left little room to move, let alone breathe. No, the one she'd picked out was much more flattering, less poofy, and delicately sat in just the right places. It clung to her every curve and emphasised all the parts Lucy liked about her body, whilst also accommodating her growing bump. Her silky blonde hair had been loosely pulled back and curled, decorated with small gem encrusted pins throughout. And her make up had been left minimal, giving her a simple but elegant finish—the look she favoured nowadays.

Her hand began rubbing small circles were it lay, a recent thing she found herself doing, a comfort to her racing heart as it pulsated through her body, echoing the erratic movements of her unborn baby.

She was anxious; who wouldn't be? But she knew that her guild mates would never allow such a day to go badly, they'd all put too much effort into planning it to allow for such folly.

As for Natsu… well, the boy didn't know what'd hit him once the guild found out. He had no idea what getting married really entailed, and figured, like she, it would happen much further into the future than it had. Their friends, however, had given them little choice in the matter, and within a month of the proposal, she was standing in her dream wedding dress about to make that lifelong commitment to the man just as clueless as she was.

In some ways, it all seemed rather convenient. If Lucy didn't know any better, she would've put her fateful coupling down to destiny, but those were the delusions of a small child who'd grown up alone in a big mansion, destined to marry some self important aristocrat and play housewife for his money.

A different life entirely.

Her meeting Natsu had changed all that; he'd opened her eyes to what life could really offer. She'd concluded, after many years as a member of Fairy Tail, that destiny really could be burned to ashes, that fate stood no chance against the likes of her friends, and that she was no different. It had been her choices that'd lead her down this path, and that she had always been in charge of her own future.

So getting married was no longer some massive event that held such great importance in her life, for she had found her true happiness. Married or not, her feelings towards the dragon slayer would never change, her heart belonged solely to him and had done for much longer than she'd ever admit to.

Instead, the wedding would be used a day of celebrating their long lasting friendship, their deep bond and most importantly, the love they'd shared so unconditionally for one another. They'd been through so much together; the pain and heart ache; the cheer and laughter and everything in between; every memory was precious and every moment from now on, even more so.

The longer she thought about it all, the more her eyes began to prickle with unshed tears, threatening to streak down her powdered skin, "Ugh… Stupid feelings..." She whispered, using her finger to wipe up the wetness.

"Aw, Lucy, you don't have to cry! Save it for the actual ceremony, you'll ruin your make up otherwise." Levy was quick to take out a clean tissue, dabbing away at her friends eyes whilst trying not to ruin her masterpiece. "Thank goodness for waterproof mascara, huh?"

"Sorry Levy, I don't know what came over me." She just couldn't understand it; where had all these emotions come from? "It must be my hormones…"

"Nope, I'm pretty sure it's because you're about to get married, Lucy. I imagine lot's of bride's get a little teary on their wedding day." Mira began, offering some words of encouragement. "And besides, Natsu will be just as emotional, I bet."

If memory served correctly, Natsu would be, no doubt, still in his boxers, piling food into his face alongside Happy and Haru, with not a care in the world. It was just a gut feeling, but somehow, Lucy was pretty sure their morning had gone very differently to hers. "Hmm… I don't know. Are we even talking about the same person here? I mean he's probably not even dressed yet."

Mira chuckled lightly, although Lucy saw right through it. She knew that if her words were true, the barmaid wouldn't hesitate to go full Satan-soul on the slayer's ass, ripping him a new one. But the woman said nothing more about it as she reached up to place the veil atop of Lucy's head, before standing back to marvel at the beautiful bride, "There. I have to say, Natsu's one lucky guy! You look good enough to eat, Lucy!"

"Um… thanks, Mira." Blushing, Lucy turned away embarrassed, knowing exactly what the take over mage was inferring, "How much longer until we're ready?"

"Twenty minutes. So we need to pick up the pace or we'll be late." Erza's thunderous tone came sharply from the doorway as she entered the room, her athletic body filling her own, full length dress out in ways Lucy felt slightly envious of. "And the bride shall not be late to her own wedding. We've all waited far too long for it to be ruined now."

Lucy chose to ignore that last bit, never one to dwell on what her guild mates inevitably spoke about behind her and Natsu's back. She quickly put her heeled shoes on and made her way to the door, "Is Anna here yet? She's supposed to be walking me down the aisle."

One of the few decisions Lucy had been allowed to make about her wedding day was who she wanted walking her down the aisle. In replacement of her mother and as someone who meant a lot to both her and Natsu, Anna had been the perfect choice that no one could really argue with.

"I'm here, Lucy!" Anna called, waving her hand as she entered the room, awestruck by how radiant the bride looked in her glistening gown, "Wow! Don't you look stunning! Then again, the Heartfilia gene has yet to fail us." She winked and smiled, "Let's hope this baby follows the same path, hmm?"

Chuckling, Lucy smiled for the first time that morning, feeling a sense of comfort and relief with Anna around. She shared the same kind disposition and caring nature her mother once had; maybe it was a Heartfilia thing? But if Lucy closed her eyes for just a moment, she could almost trick herself into believing Layla was standing right there with her. Maybe, in some weird way, she was, and that's all the young blonde could hope for.

"Time to go!" Erza bellowed, shooing them all out of the door, "We have a wedding to attend!"

On the other side of town, up on the hill where the small cottage stood, a very different story was unfolding, one of complete bedlam, and no one, not even Lucy, should've expected any different.

"Dammit! Why do I have to wear this ridiculous thing anyway?" Natsu grumbled, pulling at the tie around his neck, unhappy that he'd been forced to wear it instead of his beloved scarf. "It's tryin' to choke me, I swear!"

"I don't think it's alive, Natsu…" Happy uttered, having watched his friend battle the urge to destroy the thing for the past ten minutes.

"Yeah, but if it was, I'd totally beat it and burn it to the ground!" Fisting the air in triumph over his imaginary brawl with the inanimate object, the fire breather sniggered.

"You could just burn it now."

The fire mage's smirk turned into an all out evil grin as he went to summon his fire, reaching for the offending material dangling over his shirt.

"Although, I doubt a certain scary lady in armour would be too pleased… Not after everything she went through to get you to wear it in the first place."

And then it all came crashing down again, his need to set fire to it dissipating. He knew better than to go against something Erza had chosen and groaned obnoxiously, throwing his head back onto the pillows in a huff, causing hot smoke to seep from his mouth, "Stupid tie… Stupid Erza…"

Hearing a thump next to him, his eyes rolled to the side, his neck twisting in turn, only to find that Haru had slumped down onto his back as well.

His large blue eyes were fixed on his father's mouth and his lips were pursed slightly as he continued to stare. Then, with a look of determination, he blew with all his might, over and over again in the hopes of forming his own puff of smoke.

Unable to keep his amusement in, Natsu turned over to observe the baby closer, intrigue furrowing his brows and fascination lighting up his face when an untimely idea came to mind.

"Hey Happy, d'ya think Haru might be able to learn magic soon?" He contemplated the thought for a moment as he sat himself up, pulling the little one up with him.

Stopping to think about it, the exceed scrunched his nose up in disbelief, not entirely sure if now was really the time to be having such thoughts, "Really? But he's only just learnt to walk."

"I know, but look at him. He seems to want to." Natsu wasn't sure if he'd even be able to teach him how to breath fire, not without the use of dragon slayer magic and that was off the table. But then again, that wasn't the only thing he could show him. "It'd be kinda cool to see, don't ya think?"

"Uh… I'm not sure now is the time, Natsu… you don't wanna be late." Happy erred on the side of caution, but after one look of his friends scheming face, he was quick to give in, "Then again, it would be pretty cool to see what he does, I guess."

"That's the spirit! We got some time to kill before that Snowflake gets here anyway, so might as well have a little fun." Natsu grinned wickedly, ideas of how to go about it swirling around in his head. "Hey little guy, come 'ere! Daddy's got something to show you!" Igniting his palm, he watched excitedly for Haru's reaction to his magic.

The little boy, although startled at first, stared in wonder at the tiny flame so close to his face, and watched it flicker with the slight movements of his father's hand. It was captivating to be within reach of such burning hot fire, even if he'd seen it so many times before. Although the bright heat was something he so readily associated with Natsu, being this close to it was a first for him, and that made it all the more thrilling.

"Fire!" The child exclaimed, using the springs of the mattress to bob up and down in his excitement.

"Heck yeah, it is! And now that it's just us, we can be awesome fire dragons together, right Haru?" Natsu sniggered like the mischievous imp he was, and brought the kids hand up next to his ignited one.

But after taking one look between his and his father's hands, the little boy pulled away again, a sad expression adorning his sweet face as he stared into his empty palm, "No…" He mumbled, his bottom lip jutting out and his eyes filling with tears, "No!"

"I don't think he understands, Natsu." Happy interjected, not convinced the boy was anywhere near old enough to fully grasp how to handle magic.

"'Course not—not yet anyway. But he will one day, and it's gonna be the best!" The slayer kept his smile as he guided the little boy onto his lap, ruffling his thick hair affectionately to cheer him up again, "Chin up, kiddo! It takes a long time to learn how to wield magic. But with some practice, you'll be the toughest little dragon around, you'll see."

Listening to that calming tone, the child glanced up at his adoring parent, comforted by the big grin that always managed to reach his eyes, a gentle touch that embodied the very bond they shared. The mood was infectious and with a little coaxing, the small boy couldn't keep his lips from curving upwards, brightening the room around them once again.

With newfound courage, he reached his arm back out, placing it near to Natsu and waited expectantly, "Oh, so you do wanna be a dragon, huh? Alright then, but ya gotta give me your best roar first!" Natsu smirked, proud to have taught his son the 'non-magical' version of roaring (aka shouting really loudly) at the very least. And he did just that; at the top of his voice; no encouragement needed, "Whoa! That was super awesome, little guy! Now let's see how you handle this!"

"If you're about to do what I think you're gonna do, then I hope for your sake, Lucy never finds out." Happy warned, not wanting to take any responsibility for what was inevitably about to happen.

"Hey! I'm not stupid enough to burn down my own house. What do you take me for, an idiot?" The answer was yes, but Happy's restraint held strong, knowing he'd be heard even if he'd muttered it under his breath. Natsu, on the other hand, took no heed and brought both hands out this time, taking hold of the chubby little ones waiting for him, "Are ya ready?"

Igniting the flames once more, Haru watched the blazing magic slowly seep onto his fingers, a gentle warmth tingling his flesh, enough to make him flinch as it encased each tiny fist. After a few unsure moments, and the opening and closing of his palms, his blue eyes lit up with a wonderment only children seemed to possess, his very soul shining just as brightly as the flames he'd been gifted.

"Daddy! Daddy, fire!"

Natsu chuckled, as he leant back on the bed, using his now fireless hands to prop himself up, "Haha! I knew you had it in ya! Now you get to be just like a real fire dragon, and as long as you play with it on me, you can't burn anything, either." It was fool proof, he was certain of that. And with the look of sheer astonishment on that cute little face in front of him, Natsu could hardly contain himself.

"Yeah, right! Like you're one to talk…You're the first person to destroy things. It's why we never have any money." It was true and Natsu knew it, but that didn't stop the unimpressed glare he sent Happy's way.

"Why else do you think I put him in my lap?" The slayer tilted his head, his annoyance short lived, "He can't burn me so it's fine, and he's not really wielding fire, it's just pretend." He added, his infamous grin returning, and attention now fully diverted from the child he was supposed to be watching, "They'll go out before long."

"Sure, but, uh… I think Haru may have different ideas…" The exceed said, quietly gesturing to the boy in his lap.

"Huh? How so?" The fire mage asked, but by the time he'd turned around to see, it was already too late, "Haru!"

With one touch from the child's fingers, the fire caught on to the covers they were sitting on and spread like a fuse to a bomb.

"Get out of the way!" It lit up the entire bed in a flash, giving Natsu only seconds to get Haru off of it in time before they both landed in heaps on the floor.

It'd gone up so quickly; such was the destructive nature of those flames, and now his and Lucy's bed, the very bed they slept in every night, was a pile of smoking ash on the floor, the fire extinguished along with it.

Silence. All that could be heard was the silence…

"I… I-I'm dead… I'm so dead…" The dragon slayer's voice was barely a whisper, and his horrified expression said it all. The crushing weight of impending doom loomed over him and no amount of blinking was going to bring back their disintegrated bed, no matter how hard he tried.

What was he going to do? He'd been in control of the situation; he had a plan and it was fool proof. Not a few seconds he'd peeled his sights away from the child—just a few damn seconds and now...

And what about Lucy? She'd be furious, no… outraged by it all! He'd be seeing her in less than thirty minutes from now; how could he look her in the eyes, say their vows, then tell her she'd be sleeping on the couch?! That was a conversation that ended badly no matter what way he looked at it.

"You were saying?" Happy teased, covering his mouth with his paw, the rare look of mortification on his friend's face was priceless.

"Lucy's going to kill me!" His gaping sockets could barely keep his eyeballs from falling out, and his mouth hung low enough he could almost lick the ash off the ground.

"Daddy fire! Daddy fire!" Haru cheered, clapping his hands together while laughing, unaware of the chaos he'd unleashed, seemingly impressed with himself.

"Y-Yeah..." The young man slumped back against the dressing table, the feeling of dread taking over him the more he played out in his mind how he was going to tell his new, and very pregnant wife of the unfortunate news, giving him zero hope for survival, "You're gonna be the end of me, kid!"

"Like father, like son!" It was all too funny for the little exceed, who was attempting, but failing, to stop the flow of cackles escaping his mouth.

"Hey! Stop laughing would ya! It's not funny!" Natsu snapped, the sound of Happy busting his guts slowly grinding away at him.

"But it is! You should've seen your face! Shame Reedus wasn't here to draw the picture!" Happy continued to shriek with laughter, infecting little Haru as well.

"Not you, too!" Natsu complained, but his voice held no real consequence. After all, it was his idea to let the one year old play with fire, and it would be his sorry ass to own up and take responsibility.

"What the hell is going on in here?!" Startled by the unexpected but familiar voice, the trio of boys twisted their heads to see an out of breath Gray standing in the bedroom doorway.

"Oh, it's you… Don't you know how to knock?" Natsu dead-panned, apparently more annoyed by Gray's intrusion than the burnt bed.

"Never mind about that, I ran all the way here 'cause your house is smoking! What did you do this time, fire breath?" Glad to see everyone was fine, the ice mage sighed in relief that it appeared to be nothing serious.

"Hey! Why do people always assume it's me? Maybe it was Happy?"

"But it was you, Natsu."

"Shh! I'm trying to make a point here!"

"It was obviously you, idiot! You're the only pyro here!" Gray shook his head, hardly believing that this was the guy about to get married. "Anyway, we need to get going, or Erza will have our heads."

"But… but what about the bed?" Natsu whimpered like a child, pointing to where it once stood.

"Wait… You burnt down your own bed?! What is wrong with you, Dragneel?! Of all the days to be a bigger idiot than normal, you pick today?" Gray smacked his palm over his face exasperatedly. He hadn't even noticed that it was the bed that'd been burnt, but now it was clear to see where all the smoke was coming from.

"Come on, numbskull! We don't have time for this!" Grabbing hold of the still-in-shock Natsu by the collar, he used his ice magic to freeze all of the ash lain bare on the floor, effectively halting the smoke and yanked his rival out of the house, determined to get to the cathedral on time, "We'll deal with your stupidity later, but right now, you gotta get married and I'm prepared to drag you all the way there if I have to."

Lucy could feel the blood pulsing in her ears, her hand clutched at her belly as the sickness she'd been suppressing all morning finally reared its ugly head. She felt sticky and clammy from the extra adrenaline coursing its way through her body—and was now an appropriate time to say she needed to pee… again!?

"Take a deep breath and try to relax yourself." She heard Anna whisper into her ear as they both stared at the large cathedral doors. "When you walk down that aisle, remember its only you and Natsu that matters, no one else, okay?"

Giving a shy nod, she inhaled deeply, as if that was going to be her last breath and tried to calm herself down.

"Are you ready?"

Bowing her head once more, Lucy could hear the guests grow silent behind the large doors, the loud creaking signifying they were opening. Planting one heeled foot over the threshold, the blonde looked up to everyone that was waiting for her entrance, and it was in that moment time seemed to stand still.

Among the gasps and gleaming faces; the decorated pews and hard stone floor; hazy, chocolate eyes scoured the ancient hall. There they all were; her friends; her family; every single person that held such importance in her heart. It made her happy, ecstatic even, that this joyous day could be celebrated with the people closest to her, the people that'd accepted her for who she was and nurtured her into the person she was today.

She hadn't even realised she'd stopped breathing until her lungs began to ache, forcing her to inhale a large breath of air as her legs began to slowly, and shakily, walk forwards.

Her dress glimmered in the dim light of the medieval building, capturing the eyes of the crowd, lighting up the very aisle as the long train behind her rippled with each step she took towards the altar.

But nobody, not even the keenest of dragon senses could see the pure beauty the way he did. With heat pooling in his belly, he watched the girl he loved make her way towards him, dazzling as brightly as the stars she wielded. His mouth ran dry, and his heart skipped many beats, making him question whether it was just his imagination. She appeared before him within a blink of an eye, and it was all to easy to just wash the others away.

"She's all yours, Natsu." Anna said, releasing her arm from Lucy's firm hold and winked at them both, gladly stepping back to let them take centre stage.

But neither mage heard her as their eyes connected for the first time, too enraptured by what stood before them, too absorbed in their own little world, and nothing could penetrate it.

"You… You look beautiful, Lucy." Natsu wasn't easy to fluster, but the pink tinge on his cheeks told her she'd succeeded. "Really… really beautiful…"

Her own bashfulness became evident too, her eyes soaking in his glorious form as if she'd been starved of him, "You're looking pretty good yourself, Natsu." She studied him up and down, her gaze becoming hungry for more. It wasn't very often she got to see his exceptionally toned body in something so formal, and she was totally going to make the most of it.

"T-Thanks..."

The playful wink and cute chuckle only served to make the pink on his cheeks grow darker, as if this was the first time she'd ever paid him a compliment.

‘Wasn't Lucy the one that usually reacted like this?’ He wondered, unsure why his face was suddenly feeling so hot.

“Although, I have to say, it’s still a little strange seeing you without your scarf on.” She admitted, unable to take her eyes away from his slender neck. Usually it didn’t come off until he was ready for bed… or other, less innocent things.

"You can thank Erza for that! She stole it from me and made me wear a damn tie instead." His petulant tone had the blonde sniggering into her hand, his instant annoyance enough to quash any tension left between them, "She even made Haru wear one."

Lucy glanced over to where Haru was sat in the crowd, who, although dressed in something entirely impractical for a toddler, was happily waving to his mother with the biggest grin on his face, "Poor guy…" She said, waving back, "He does look super cute in it though."

A loud cough from the front halted them in their tracks, finally breaking them out of their little bubble, "When you're quite finished." A loud voice echoed through the cathedral walls, making both mages stand to attention and face the front like naughty school children.

An older gentleman with a bald head and long beard stood before them, his bushy brows making it hard to see where his wrinkles stopped and his eyes began glared impatiently at the pair, tapping his fingers on the book he held in his hands, "Now, let's begin."

With an exaggerated sigh, his voice traipsed along the pages of his book, an aged tone that said he'd spoken these words all too many times before, had read those same lines, and joined countless lovers together in matrimony over the years. He was practised and poised, an elegant and poetic speaker, able to captivate his audience…

Unless they were Fairy Tail, of course, and more specifically a pink haired, impulsive dragon slayer, who's attention span rivalled that of a five year old. He'd zoned out the moment the old guy had started rambling, too interested in getting to the good bit—eating food and kissing Lucy, obviously.

It all sounded like drivel, mindless, unnecessary drivel, that seemed never ending, and the hall was so deafeningly quiet, which, was unnerving to say the least when trying to distract oneself.

Well, except for one faint noise, that was.

Thanks to his excellent hearing, he could hear little Haru babbling from the pews. He was being ever so quiet about it considering his lack of awareness for what was going on, and the sudden urge to turn around and take a peek at what he was doing seemed almost too much for the fire mage.

With the slightest quirk of his head, he glanced back to see the small boy playing with Happy's tail, minding his own business, perfectly content without him or Lucy there.

Satisfied to see the infant playing so calmly, Natsu went to turn back around again when a loud 'Daddy!' stopped him in his tracks. The small boy, who'd not been aware of his father's peeping only a moment ago, was now trying to scramble over the blue exceed to get to him.

"No Haru, you gotta stay there. Stay with Happy!" The desperate fire mage whispered, pointing to the cat as a sheepish grin took over at the chaos he'd caused. "Daddy will be over in a minute, kay?"

"You're making it worse, Natsu, turn around!" Lucy whispered rather loudly, never looking away from the old man still talking as she leaned in.

"Sorry Luce, but I could hear Haru talking to himself. I just wanted to see what he was doing." Natsu explained, rubbing the back of his head in habit, "Not my fault he caught me looking."

"You looked at him first, of course he was going to notice you." She said a little louder, enough that the people sat closest to them could hear.

And that was all he needed for the small smirk to creep its way onto his lips, "Oh, so you were watching, too?"

"N-No…" She stuttered, giving herself away, "I wasn't…"

"Liar."

"Okay, fine. But why do I have to listen to this and you don't? I'm just as bored as you are." She admitted, her whispers getting louder the more irate she became, "Do you know how many times I've had to keep myself from yawning? And I really need to pee, too!"

As important as she knew this part of the ceremony was, it didn't half drag. Couldn't they just say 'I do' and be done with it already? Who cared about some God when her feet were starting to hurt!?

"Well, aren't you full of surprises… Maybe you should've gone before." He sniggered, knowing exactly how to push her buttons, relishing in the glare that had imminent death written all over it.

“It’s not like I’m carrying your baby or anything…” She huffed, crossing her arms.

"Alright, if your that desperate, I could always make him go faster." His face lit up with the most mischievous grin, igniting a small flame on his pointer finger.

"Natsu! You can’t do that! You’ll get us kicked out!” She rolled her eyes, though she appreciated the sentiment.

"Aw, come on! Not even a little singe?" He pointed his fiery finger towards the man in front of them, edging it slowly closer on purpose, "His brows need taking back a bit, don't you think?"

Lucy chortled at the thought, highly amused by the man's enormous brows being set on fire and couldn't stop the giggles that followed, her restraint finally caving, "Maybe just a little bit!"

"Will you two pay attention and turn to face each other." The old man grumbled, none the wiser to their little inside jokes. "Present the rings."

The blonde continued to chuckle as she turned to face her partner in crime, her steady heart picking up pace a little now that they were staring right at each other.

His unwavering smile and silly behaviour was something she had always admired. His ability to lighten any situation, regardless of how grim it may seem, instantly had her smiling along, too.

"Now, Natsu, please say your vows."

Inhaling a deep breath, the young mage knew he'd never been good with words. Lucy had always been the speaker, the writer, the one able to talk her way out of most situations, and although the vows he'd prepared were not long like sappy love letters or poetic or book worthy, they came from the heart and that's all he could offer her.

"Luce… I gotta admit, I never saw this coming." He chuckled, his hand tangled into the hair at the back of his head, "And I know for sure you didn't either, but that's okay because no matter what happens, we'll always be Natsu and Lucy, and we'll always be partners."

Without looking away, he held her shaky hand and slipped the precious ring onto her finger with ease, her delicate skin soft against his loving warmth.

"I've always known you were special to me, it just took a while to realise how much, I guess… And apparently adopting a kid with your best friend isn't normal, so…" He shrugged nonchalantly, never giving it much thought, but earned a giggle from Lucy in return. "But I knew you'd put your all into being the best Mom you could, just like in everything you do. You're a super kind person with so much love to give, it's why you're so precious to me, and I wanna protect that with everything I've got. So, that's my promise to you, Lucy, I will protect your heart, so long as it continues to beat."

She gasped, feeling the air leave her lungs as if she'd been winded. It was short and to the point but those sweet sounding words of his, the very meaning behind them were enough to make her knees tremble. She stared, mouth agape at the man that stood before her, blown away by his promise, astounded that he'd once again found the perfect things to say.

A few unplanned tears escaped as she looked over to the little boy in the pews, then peered down to her rounded tummy, feeling the butterflies and the baby's movements fluttering around inside. So much had changed, and this would be a whole new chapter to add to their never ending adventure, an overwhelming thought that seemed all too much for her to get to grips with.

Feeling a warm hand cup her cheek she looked up to the sweet smile of her lover, the person that meant everything to her, and felt this fingers wipe away her tears. He always had a way of filling her with encouragement, even, it seemed, with just a single gesture.

"Thank you, Natsu. Now Lucy, you may begin." The old guy uttered, his gruff voice quieter than before.

Placing her free hand over the top of his, she brought them both to rest on her belly, her smile reaching her eyes as the small kicks poked at their skin, making them both chuckle.

"Natsu, there are so many things I could say that I admire about you; I could also find an equal amount of things that annoy me, too." His sudden pout made her giggle once again, along with the rest of the guild members, "But that doesn't matter, because that's the person I fell in love with. You're loyal, brave and strong; your silly, impulsive and like to fool about, but you also bring smiles to everyone around you, an ability that only you seem to possess.

I can't remember how many times you've shown me the light, lifted me up in my time of need and carried me until I could stand on my own two feet. Your presence and comfort has always been my safe place, somewhere I can call home. You're such a beautiful person, and I'm so lucky to be able to call you mine."

Tears began to fill her eyes again, and she was sure his had become a little watery too.

"So, in return for all that you do for me, and us as a family, I promise to play with your hair when your motion sick and rub your back when you eat too much." Natsu's cheeks lifted up to his eyes, scrunching them closed in amusement as she, too, grinned back at him.

"I promise to love you with all of my heart, to lift you up in your time of need and put a smile on your face when your feeling down. I promise to be loyal, brave, and strong for you, too; to fool about and make you laugh, and to always be there to stop you from going overboard.

I'll forever stand proudly at your side, and hold your hand through whatever life throws at us. You've shaped me into the person I am today, and if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have this wonderful life, such amazing friends, or a family to call my own." The tears that welled began to spill down her pink stained cheeks, but the smile that had been there all along never wavered from her lips, "You're my everything, Natsu, and you will be until the day I die."

A single tear drop slowly trickled down and dripped off of his chin as his breath hitched in his throat. As time once again stood still, it felt like he and Lucy were the only ones present; no longer able to see the guild watching their every move, or hear the grumpy old man scold them for not paying attention. Lucy was his sole focus and without waiting for the final lines to be read, the young groom impatiently pulled her in, and welded their lips together in a display of affection that had the crowd wooing and whistling for them in celebration.

"Congratulations to the happy couple!" Mira mewled, throwing confetti and flower petals over the two still very much consumed by one another.

"Can you believe it? After all these years, they're finally married!" Levy squealed in her excitement, deafening poor Gajeel in the process.

"Who'd have thought our boy, Natsu, would've ever settled down?" Wakaba stood from his seat, cigarette at the ready.

"Yep! It seems like only yesterday he was pulling pranks and starting fights with the other youngsters." Macao smirked, his arms crossed cockily over his chest.

"That's because it was yesterday, Dad! Natsu hasn't changed that much…" Romeo shook his head at the two old farts, but smiled when he looked back to his idol, "Then again, he does have a family now. I guess getting married just kinda made sense."

"Nothing they do makes sense, kid. You only have to look at 'em to see that." Laxus spoke from the pew behind, his thunder legion companions sat right along with him.

"Yes, but they have made their pairing work. As a team, they're like clockwork and as a couple, they're impenetrable." Erza's smile brightened her face as she glanced on at the two newly weds, proud of her friends and of how far they'd come.

"Alright guys, let's move this to the guild! I wanna get my booze on and the bar is waiting!" Cana yelled, drink bottle already in hand as she, along with most of the others filtered out of the cathedral, not wanting to spoil the couples moment.

Natsu and Lucy, however, were in a bubble all of their own; where soft, tinted lips met hot, firm ones in a passionate battle that neither wanted to lose. But the need for air was far stronger, forcing them to separate and stare into each others eyes as they caught their breaths.

"You know, you're supposed to wait for me to pronounce you husband and wife before embracing like that." The bushy browed man said from behind the altar, glowering at the couple he had no hope of controlling.

"Oh… uh, sorry about that… Kinda got swept up in the moment." Natsu grinned sheepishly, chuckling to ease the tension, while Lucy just hid herself behind him.

"Hmm… Well it doesn't matter now. What does is that you are legally bound. Good luck to you both."

"Thanks!"

They watched the man take his leave, only then noticing that the hall was empty, "Huh… Where'd everybody go?" The fire mage was sure the hall had been filled just a moment ago.

"So you guys finally came up for air, huh?" Gray walked over, he and Juvia, along with Happy and Haru the only ones left. "Everyone's gone back to the guild to wait instead of watch you both suck face. Seriously, how long can you hold your breath for?"

An oblivious Natsu only shrugged, but a blushing Lucy was quick to hide her face from Gray's knowing smirk, turning the opposite way to where Juvia was standing with the little baby in her arms, and the blonde's face lit up instantly, "Oh, look at him! Isn't he just the sweetest? And he didn't cry once throughout the whole thing! What a little sweetheart!"

"Yes, Juvia is quite surprised herself that he stayed quiet. Juvia can't say he does the same at night though." The water mage chuckled through her tiredness, a look Lucy was all too familiar with, "But Juvia doesn't mind, not when Gray is so willing to get up with him."

"Aww, Daddy Gray to the rescue, huh? And here I thought you were worried about the whole thing. Looks like you're doing just fine to me!" Lucy said, turning her attention to the ice mage standing there.

"Worried? Who said I was-?" And then it clicked, "Natsu! You told Lucy what I said? That was just between us!" Gray turned to the fire mage, who, had since recovered his own son from the pews, walking him back to where they were all standing.

"Yeah, I know. That's why I only told Lucy, duh!"

"Don't 'duh' me, you weren't supposed to tell anybody, and that includes Lucy!" If he could've smacked his head on a wall, he would've… Or better yet, smack Natsu's!

"But I tell Lucy everything…"

"Oh, you do, do you? That's funny, because I'm certain there's something you haven't told her yet, right?" The look of fear that flashed across Natsu's face was enough to make the ice mage drop his annoyance in favour of revenge.

"Not told me what? Did something happen?" Lucy cocked her head as she looked up from the cooing baby, her sights flickering between the squabbling duo scowling at each other.

"Should I tell her, Natsu?" Gray's smirk was almost sickening, his own pleasure outweighing the consequences.

"Don't you dare, Popsicle!" The fire mage bit out through gritted teeth, "Or I'll rearrange your face with my fist!" If looks could kill…

"Is anyone going to tell me what's going on?" The curious look on Lucy's face quickly turned to frustration the longer she was kept waiting, "Natsu?" Slowly she traipsed her way over, backing him against the rows of benches.

"Uh oh! Looks like hell is about to break loose..." Happy sniggered from his perch on the altar, high fiving Haru as he began to giggle, too.

"Oh dear… You may have started something there, Gray dear." Juvia said, passing the sleepy newborn over to his father.

"Nah! Natsu had this one coming." He sniggered, shushing the baby back to sleep.

A vein popping on her forehead, Lucy's irritation had just about reached breaking point, "Speak!"

Swallowing thickly, the young man looked up to his very new, very pregnant wife, just like he knew he'd have to and wished momentarily that the ground would swallow him whole, "Well… Uh… I-It's kind of… Um…" What was he supposed to say? "I-I was playing with Haru this morning and, u-uh, stuff happened and our bed is now… gone."

Raising a brow, the girl looked even more confused, "Gone? What do you mean, it's gone?"

"Gone… As in it was there… and now its not." He really wasn't doing himself any favours.

"Natsu..."

"Happy did it!" He panicked.

"Hey! No I didn't, you burnt it! You let Haru play with your fire, not me! I warned you it would end badly, but you wouldn't listen and now-"

"You did what?!" Her eyes were blood red as she glared at the suspecting dragon slayer, her hair reminiscent of a certain Satan soul mage. “You burnt down our bed?!”

It was in times like this he was glad that she couldn't out run him, especially not at the moment, as he pegged it for the exit.

"Natsu Dragneel! Just you wait 'til I get my hands on you!"

Her yelling from behind reminded him of all the times he'd found himself in this exact predicament, whether it be from destroying a building or their bed, it brought a smile to his lips at just how familiar it all felt. It seemed as their evolving relationship and family changed and grew, his vows rang true, they would always be Natsu and Lucy, and that would forever be the same.

With one solid push of the large cathedral doors, he opened them wide, allowing the natural afternoon light seep into the old walls. Readjusting the boy in his arms, and with Happy flying over head, he chanced a small glance back at his livid wife stalking her way over to him, and grinned mischievously, sealing his already doomed fate with his final words, "Come on then, Luce! But you'll have to catch me first!"

Thanks for reading! 

[devildomimagines]

Flowers from the Demon Brothers

Let’s imagine the brothers find a flower dealer that specializes in human realm flowers and they get you some as a present, hoping the flowers would be a nice reminder of home. Halfway through, I realized this was getting long so the other brothers are under the cut.

Belphegor 

Hellebore - Protection, anxiety relief, also scandal if you’re cheeky.

He just so happened to pass the stall and the flowers caught his eye.

He wandered over and felt the petals, they were soft and wondered how you would react if he got them for you.

Belphie bought the bouquet, brought it home, and set it up in a vase.

He was admiring his work from across the room when a wave of exhaustion washed over him. Surely he would have time for a quick nap before you were home.

The only thing was there was no such thing as a quick nap with Belphie.

When you got home, you went straight to his room like you usually did. You noticed the flowers and were marveling that they were human realm flowers in Devildom when you heard a voice from the bed, “Do you like them?”

You turned to smile at Belphie, “I do! Where did you get them?”

He shrugged, leaving it up to your imagination.

You joined him on the bed to snuggle up for an afternoon nap.

As he wrapped you up, in the shelter of his arms, you felt the worries of the day melt away.

Beelzebub 

Chrysanthemum - Cheer, longevity, and happiness, even during what may be difficult times. Can also convey loyal love, hope and cherished friendship.

Beel passed the seller on the way home from the market.

He was gnawing on a lollipop when the bright colors caught his attention. Definitely not because they looked like candy on a stick like his lollipop.

Then he smelled their distinct scent. It was different than anything he had smelled in Devildom. The seller noticed his interest and came over to explain they were human realm flowers. Immediately he thought of you so he asked to buy a flower.

He walked home with a bag of food in one hand and twisting the flower in his other hand. The more he looked at it, the more he thought it looked like you: small, bright, delicate and beautiful.

When he got home he went to the kitchen to put the groceries away and found you waiting for him. “Beel! You’re late, where were you?” You looked up from your homework on the counter. Your eyes found the flower quickly and your eyes sparkled.

“There was this flower stall,” He began, putting down the bag of food, “the merchant said they come from the human realm, do you recognize it?”

You nodded but your eyes had not left the flower, “It’s called a chrysanthemum or mum for short. You probably didn’t know but humans assign meanings for flowers and that one is perfect for you.”

“What’s it mean?” he asked as he tilted his head.

“Cheer, longevity, and happiness,” you smiled up at him, “all things I would wish for you!”

He blushed and offered, “I actually got it for you, although I didn’t know it had another meaning.” He handed the flower over to you and you took it gently, smelling it with a sweet smile.

Asmodeus

Delphinium - Lightness, brightness and everything delightful. Lightheartedness and vivacity.

The wall of flowers caught Asmo’s eye at market.

The vendor mentioned the flowers were from the human realm.

Asmo ended up buying the whole thing. He was already planning on using the flowers as a background for a photoshoot for Devilgram since no one would be able to compare.

To his credit, you were the first person he texted, “MC, you’ll never guess what I got today!”

Your reply came back quick. “Hmm, a new makeup?”

Asmo enjoyed that you actually tried to guess unlike his useless brothers that refused to humor him, “Nope~ it’s something super rare! If you want to see, come to my room in an hour~”

He took the flowers home and set them up on his vanity to create a beautiful backdrop. He was just adjusting the last bunch as you opened the door. “Ta Da~”

You covered your mouth and gasped, “Asmo!”

“I told you, you would never guess!” Asmo laughed at your surprised face. “I saw these in the market today and when the trader said they came from the human world, I just had to have them!” He plucked one from the vase and brushed it along your cheek to tease, “you can have one if you help me get the perfect picture.”

Satan

Blue Salvia - Healing and thoughtfulness, spiked with wisdom. “I always think of you.”

Satan had been reading in a Cafe when the flower seller set up in front of the window.

The flowers caught his eye as he sipped his tea. They remind him of a recent book he had read.

After finishing his beverage, he went to ask the vendor about the flowers to quell his curiosity.

The vendor advised that they were from the human realm symbolizing healing and wisdom. Satan thought of you having some sniffles last week and although he wasn’t particularly superstitious he bought a few.

He hummed as he inspected the flowers on the way back to the house. He contemplated picking up a book on flowers to learn about other flowers and their meanings.

“Satan!” You called out, getting up from the couch in the living room.

“MC, I was just looking for you,” he chuckled as he watched your attention shift from him to the flowers. “I saw these while out today and got them for you.”

Your eyes grew big as you accepted the gift. “Thank you, Satan, human realm flowers in Devildom, who would have thought!” Then you got a great idea, “can I borrow an unimportant book?”

Satan’s eyebrow raised, not following your train of thought, “that depends.” You grabbed his arm and began dragging him to his room, excited you get to show/teach him how to press flowers.

Leviathan

Sweet Pea -  Pleasure and gratitude, “Thank you for the time we spent together.”

Levi heard about the flower seller through social media. He scrolled through the customer photos and then found a link to the seller’s website.

It had only been a passing interest until he found the Sweet Pea. The arrangement reminded him of you both in name and looks. He placed an order to have it delivered to the house addressed to you.

When the flowers arrived and they were handed over to you, he reveled in your phases of bewilderment and curiosity.

“I wonder who sent these? It’s so rare to see human realm flowers in Devildom,” You smiled as you smelled the flowers.

After the other brothers had dispersed from the common room, Levi stayed trying to build the courage to tell you it was him that sent them.

“Levi,” he jumped at your voice, “did you see the flowers? Who do you think sent them? Maybe some secret admirer?”

He blushed deeply but somehow you missed it, “Maybe some normie,” he mumbled and looked away.

“Did you know that the Sweat Pea symbolizes pleasure and gratitude? It’s kind of like saying, ‘Thank you for the time we have spent together.’“

Levi looked back at you, you were hugging the vase with a big smile plastered on your face. He found it fitting that he was thankful in the moment and smiled himself.

Mammon

Lisianthus - Gratitude, charm, and an everlasting bond. Used with public shows of affection, sometimes used in proposals.

He was working a modeling job and they brought human world flowers on set as props. After the shoot, Mammon asked if he could take a few home and the prop master allowed it since the flowers would not keep.

You were his human, so these human flowers were the perfect gift! No one would be able to get you a better present; he was so proud.

He went straight to your room when he got back and found you lounging on your back in your bed reading a magazine, “Mammon! You should have texted me you were done, I could have met you downstairs,” you rolled to your stomach and closed the magazine as you continue, “how did the shoot go?” Then you saw the flowers in his hand and blushed, “where did you get those?”

Mammon laughed haughtily, “Surprised the Great Mammon got you some human realm flowers?”

“You got those for me?” You sat up.

“Of course,” he smiled sweetly and extended his arm with the simple bouquet.

You didn’t move right away but shook your head and stood up to accept them without a word. “Are you so amazed you’re speechless?” Mammon teased.

With a laugh and a deepening blush you answered, “It’s just... this type of flowers are sometimes used in proposals in the human realm.” Now his blush was as deep and red as your own.

Lucifer

Orchid - Refinement, thoughtfulness and mature charm. Romantic love with racy connotations.

Lord Diavolo had been raving about the approval of the human realm flower vendor to help bring another level of integration from the other realms to Devildom.

To ensure that the cart was operating respectfully, since they had Lord Diavolo’s approval, Lucifer stopped by. It seemed that the flowers were popular among the demon population. Lucifer found himself shaking his head; he shouldn’t have doubted that this venture would have ended up any different than Lord Diavolo had intended.

One particular flower caught his eye, he remembered the flower’s name: Orchid. He then remembered the first time that he saw them with Lilith on a trip to the human realm. It was centuries ago now but it made him nostalgic. Next he was thinking about you and your connection to Lilith, he wondered if you would enjoy them so he bought a bouquet.

Although he didn’t show it, he felt a little foolish walking through the streets with the flowers, hoping no one he recognized saw him, making him explain his purchase.

When he got back to the House of Lamentation, some sense told him to go through the garden, so he did. He found you laying out on the lawn on a blanket reading a book. He hid the bouquet behind his back.

“MC,” he said and you startled.

“Hello Lucifer!” You stood to greet him, your clothes a little wrinkled from laying on them, you began to explain, “I was just reading and getting some air, it was such a nice day, if felt a waste to be inside.”

“You’re not in trouble, as long as you don’t leave the property, you don’t need an escort. Actually I was calling on you for a different reason.”

You looked at him expectantly, willing to hear him out whatever it was. He took pleasure in your eagerness. He revealed the bouquet from behind his back and your face lit up. “I thought you might like these.” You nodded and took them delicately. He smiled softly as you smelled the flowers with your eyes closed and hummed in approval.

[s-creations]

Oh, That Imagination

Kids will always have active imaginations. But how the adult handles it depends on what the child is afraid of.

Fandom: DuckTales 2017 / The Three Caballeros         Rating: General Audience         Relationships/Pairings:  José  Carioca/Donald Duck/Panchito Pistoles Additional Tags: Growing up, Uncles with their Nephews, Facing Fears, Worries, hunting a creature, Krampus (character), giving a speech, watching a scary movie, protecting the boys, the passing of time, names OCs.

Part of a Series Called: We’re the Three- Sorry, Six Caballeros!

Author Note: I finished Student Teaching and passed my Content Test, so I’m getting back into writing! I do have a new job lined up for the school year. We’ll see how consistent I stay with uploading. XD

“Unca Donald, Unca Donald, Unca Donald!”

 Even with the loud warning call, Donald still staggers when something blue collides against his leg. “Dishes! I’m doing dishes. Go and sit on the counter please.”

 6-year-old Dewey gave a quick nod before clamoring up. The older duck impressed by how quickly the duckling could climb. 

 “Now, what can I help you with?”

 “Benny said there’s a-a monster living in the sewage of Duckberg! I wanna go catch it!”

 Donald let out a low hum as he washed the soap from the glass. This was twice in two weeks that neighbor Benny had told some story about some ‘creature’ they had seen. Dewey, always on the lookout for new adventures, ate each story up with determination and gusto.

 “I see, very interesting. What does this monster look like?”

 “Like...Like an alligator. Only bigger!”

 “Ooooh, that sounds scary. And you’re going to catch them all by yourself?”

 “Yep!”

 “Well, aren’t you brave. Are you going to bring them back to be studied for science?”

 “I’m gonna do it to rub it in Huey’s face. Cuz he says the creature isn’t real. But I’m gonna prove him wrong!” 

 “It sounds like your afternoon is full.”

 “It sure is! Oh, wait, I wanted to ask you if we have a large net that I could use?”

 “I don’t think we have a ‘large’ net. You’ll have your bug catching net.”

 Dewey let out a contemplative hum. Hand resting on his cheek while his pointer finger tapped out some unknown tempo. A habit he picked up from José. “That’s not great. But I suppose it’ll have to do.”

 “Look at you compromising. What are you going to use as bait?”

 “Do we have any old lunch meat?”

 “No and you’re not using what we have in the fridge.”

 “You’re ruining the search Unca Donald! I need bait.”

 “How about you take Tio Panchito with you? He had to help his grandpa search for farm animals when they got out of their pens. Didn’t have to use bait to get those animals back.”

 “Tio worked on a farm?” Dewey’s eyes lit up hearing this new piece of information.

 “Spent a few childhood Summers there.”

 “What did he do?”

 “Why don’t you go and ask him? I’m sure he would be more than happy to share stories with you and your brothers.”

 “Okay, bye Unca Donald! I’m gonna learn about cows!”

 Donald silently laughed as Dewey raced out of the kitchen. Childhood stories continued during dinner and only ended when the triplets were put to bed. 

 “So...should I question why Dewey furiously ran at me this afternoon? All while screaming his demands for me to tell stories?” The rooster asked as Donald joined him and José on the living room couch. 

 “Apparently, Benny had seen some ‘creature’ in the sewer system. Dewey determined that he was going to hunt said being down. I told him you would help in the search because you’ve helped with finding lost farm animals. That caught his attention and now you know the outcome.” Donald sighed as he leaned against the other, relaxing. 

 “Do you think the thrill of the hunt will call out to Dewey tomorrow?”

 “We’ll see.” Donald replied back simply.

 The hunt did not call out the next day. Dewey focused on creating a backyard zoo, he didn’t have time to worry about some creature. A few days later, a pet iguana was rescued from the neighborhood sewers. It appears Benny had actually seen something. It just wasn’t the towering creature he’d claimed before.

 ________________

 The holidays were busy for all the adults in the household. Donald focused on getting the shopping done and holding down the fort while the ducklings raced around during their school break. Gleefully talking about Santa and what present they’re excited most about. José would be gone for weeks on end leading up to December 25, helping with numerous flights to make sure he had that day off. Starting from October through December, this time saw Panchito with booked weekends of different performances to help get other families into the festive feeling. 

 Even with having busy and exhausting schedules, they made sure to make time for the triplets. Baking, decorating the house, helping them pick out gifts for the other family members. Every year it was the goal to keep the ducklings as happy as possible.

 Which is why Panchito became worried when 7-year-old Louie started acting...strange. Almost what the rooster would call ‘stressed’.

 The duckling had started being overly helpful around the house. Doing more tasks than what would be required. Going out of his way to ask if he could help. And, most worriedly, he’d become quiet. Not in his normal way of just relaxing in front of the television. But almost fearful that he was being listened to by some unseen stranger. Eyes even darting around as he moved through the apartment. 

 Unfortunately, Panchito wasn’t able to approach this possible problem until a weekend late into the duckling’s break. 

 The rooster let out a sigh as he collapsed onto the couch. Thankful that he was done until the New Year’s celebrations he had the coming weekend. But he was able to relax for the rest of the week to celebrate Christmas. Cautious footsteps drawing closer caused Panchito to open his eyes. Finding Louis standing nervously in the middle of the room.

 “Hola Louie, what can I do for you?”

 “Um, do you need me to get you anything?”

 Panchito raised a brow. “No, I’m fine. Why don’t you join me until dinner’s ready?”

 “Oh, um, that’s okay. Maybe I should see if Uncle Donald needs any help.”

 “You’re on break. Why don’t you just sit for a while?” The duckling frowned, eyes darting around before settling onto the couch. Still tense. “So, how has school been? I haven’t heard you and your brothers talk about it for a while.” 

 “Uh...good.”

 “Just good? ...Try out any new schemes lately? I know Uncle Donald isn’t so thrilled when you do that. But you always have such clever ideas, makes me laugh.”

 “Nope, I’ve been good! No crazy plans from me!” 

 Panchito sat up a little more when Louie started shouting at the ceiling. “Okay Louie, what’s going on. Are you feeling okay? Did something happen at school?”

 The duckling dressed in green wrung his hands as he peered around. 

 “...Abby told me about the Krampus…” Louie eventually whispered.

 “The who?” 

 “The Krampus! He’s the opposite of Santa Claus! A big creature with long horns and wears a cloak! And he comes after bad boys and girls! He takes them away in his large, greasy bag and they’re never seen again and-” 

 “Okay, Louie, come here. You’re getting yourself worked up.” Panchito easily and quickly moved the duckling onto his lap. Wrapping arms around the smaller form to help keep Louie grounded. “Breath with me. We’re going to take a few deep breaths, okay?”

 Louie gave two quick nods. They remained this way for a few minutes, Panchito holding the duckling close and controlling his breathing for Louie to follow. The rooster only pulled away when Louie had calmed down enough to talk. “Okay, so, you were told a scary story. Why are you worried?”

 “Because he goes after bad kids and I know I’m...not good.”

 “Why would you say that? You’re a wonderful kid!”

 “But I get the most detentions and I’m lazy and I know I don’t do my homework when I need to and-”

 ‘Louie… Yes, we would like you to work a little harder than what you do now.  But you’re not bad. You...take risks. You have a point of view that I’ve never seen before. You’re a clever kid. And, well, between you and me.”

 Panchito leaned closer. Louie’s eyes widened with curiosity. “You fight the system and you don’t let them beat you down.” 

 “...Does that mean I don’t have to wash the dishes?”

 “Don’t push your luck. What I’m trying to say is that you’re not bad. You just think differently than others. Plus, if you’re this worried, this might be a sign you should help out more. But I doubt any Krampus will come after you.”

 “Really?”

 “Really… Also, you know your uncles and I would beat up any creature who dares try to hurt you.” 

 Louie laughed. Beaming and squirming as Panchito placed a kiss on his cheek. Christmas Day arrived with no mysterious creatures knocking in their front door. Louie was still safely tucked away in his bed. Joining his brothers with running out to the living room and unwrapping presents. Curling next to Panchito as all enjoyed the afternoon glow while watching a marathon of movies.

 ________________

 Huey took to the Junior Woodchucks like a duck to water.

 From day one it became a large part of his identity. He carried his handbook around with him everywhere. Writing his own notes and entries to add to the already thick volume. Gleefully patting his knees as he patiently waited for whatever uncle was going to take him to the weekly meetings. Even learning how to iron his uniform to keep it in tip top shape. 

 Dewey may complain that the eagerness was annoying. But nothing seemed to damper Huey’s spirit.

 Until Huey was tasked to write a speech. As he was top ranked among the troop, he was given the honor of addressing the new member that would be joining that year. A banquet being held with the duckling presenting a speech of his own at the beginning of the event. The duckling was absolutely thrilled at first. Telling everyone he could about the great honor bestowed onto him. 

 All in the family thought he would triumph over this just like many other things in his life. 

 José was humming softly one evening, making his way to the kitchen when he heard sniffing coming from the bathroom. The door opened a crack and, taking a risk, José peered in. He found 8-year-old Huey, curled up by the tub and far away from the door. A stack of paper was at the duckling’s feet. Red rimmed eyes glaring at said stack. 

 “Huey?”

 Said duckling’s head snapped up hearing José. Wiping his eyes frantically. “T-Tio José…”

 “Criança doce, what is wrong?” José  entered, leaving the door open in case Huey wanted out.

 The duckling sniffed weakly. “...I’m scared.”

 “Of what?”

 “My speech…”

 José frowned, knowing how excited Huey had been only a few days ago. “Can you tell me what you are scared about?”

 Huey let out another sniff. His hand starting to hit the side of the tub as time went on. Which José put a stop to by reaching out to take the duckling’s hand. “I’m scared...that people are going to laugh at me. I keep practicing my speech to make it perfect and I read a bunch of tips but… All I can think about is messing up and people mocking me. Then my scout leader will see me as a failure and strip me of my badges and-”

 The parrot pulled the duckling closer, humming a lullaby softly. Huey instantly clung to José, burying himself away in his guardian’s chest. It took a few minutes before the duckling finally relaxed, slumped against the older, hand still keeping a good grip on José's shirt. 

 “Huey, I would like for you to listen to me. Can you do that for me?” José received a nod, “I will help you with your speech. But you have nothing to worry about. Your scout leader seems to be nothing of the kind who would take away what you’ve achieved. And no one will laugh. We all know you will be doing your best.”

 “...But what if my best isn’t enough?”

 “It always will be Huey. Never doubt that.” José peered up hearing the floorboards creek. Finding Donald standing in the doorway wearing a look of worry. The parrot gave a quick shake of his head. A silent message that he had a handle on the situation. Donald gave a nod of his own before sneaking off. “Feeling better?”

 “...A little. I’m still scared.” 

 “That is fine. How about we make some cookies? I think I saw your Uncle Donald heading that way before. And while we are doing that, you can show me your speech.” 

 Huey sniffed weakly. Pulling back slightly to look up at José. “Chocolate chip?”

 “Of course.”

 The duckling smiled weakly and nodded. Donald greeted the two with wide arms and a smile when they walked in. Huey beamed as he was picked up and given a sturdy hug from his other uncle as José started the process. But uncles gave Huey their undivided attention when he gave his speech. The other members of the family joined them as the cookies started to bake. Dewey and Louie keeping their ‘helpful’ comments to themselves and clapping along when Huey finished. 

 At the night of the banquet, Huey beamed as he gave a flawless speech. His family cheered the loudest.

 ________________

 “This is such a bad idea.” 

 9-year-old Louie huffed, rolling his eyes as Huey bemoaned at his flawless plan. “If you’re going to be a stick in the mud, then don’t watch.”

 “But I want to see it.”

 “Then what’s the issue?”

 “The movie is PG-13! We need parental guidance to watch.”

 “You know they won’t let us watch.” Dewey added.

 “But-”

 “You get two options here Hubert,” Louie interrupted. One hand holding up a finger to keep Huey quiet. The other holding the latest zombie movie that had just recently been release to DVD, “You either watch with your mouth shut. Or you leave and keep your mouth shut in the bed while you listen to the amazingness that is this movie from the closed doors. What’s it going to be?”

 Huey frowned. But he ‘zipped’ his bill closed and crossed his arms. Which the green-hoodied triplet took as keeping his mouth shut. With a nod, Louie popped the movie in and sat next to his brothers. All three were huddled together in the closet. Eyes glued to the small t.v. screen that was crammed in with them as well. The movie menu soon appeared and Dewey pressed play.

  Donald let out a content sigh as he relaxed further between his partners. Panchito clinging to him as Donald’s head was tucked under the rooster’s chin. While José was curled up at Donald’s side, using the duck’s chest as a pillow. That night was quiet and calm. There was a weekend ahead of them that was just filled with nothing. A relaxing time with his partners and kids. It was going to be great…

 A chorus of screams sounded from the triplet’s room. All adults were up and racing out in only a few seconds. Even hard to wake José was on full alert. Donald reached the door first, flinging it open. Fully expecting to see an intruder standing in the middle of the bedroom. Only to find Huey and Louie, sobbing as they clung to each other on the younger triplet’s bed. Dewey was waving his plastic sword  at the open closet. His entire being was shaking as wide, fearful eyes were on the open space. 

 “What is going on here?” Donald called out over the noise. 

 “There’s a zombie in the closet!” Louis answered.

 “It touched me!” Huey added.

 “I’m fighting it off!” Dewey finished. 

 “What- okay- Dewey stop swinging that around!” Panchito walked over and pulled the sword from the duckling. Collecting the blue cladded triplet as he continued to shake.

 Donald gathers the other two. Both of them desperately slings to the protection that was their uncle. José took to the closet, making sure it was empty. The parrot raised a brow, finding the t.v. that was still on and playing a movie. 

 He reached in to eject the movie and brought it out for the other two to see. “Donald.”

 The duck looked it over. Frowning, seeing the topic, letting out a slow breath. It was clear the triplets were in no condition to have a stern talking to. Plus, he was honestly too tired to worry about it at the moment. “Okay...let’s go back to our room.”

 The other two adults nodded. José turned off the lights as he was the last to leave the boy’s room. Donald rested himself back into the middle of the bed, only with more bodies pressed around him. Panchito cleverly left the bedside light on before he laid down on the bed, Dewey resting on his chest. The triplets flinched when José walked in.

 “It is just me.” The parrot assured. 

 Donald let out a sigh as he gently preened the top of each head. “You’re safe here. Nothing’s going to get you.”

 The bed was pressed further down as José laid down. Huey clamoring over into the parrot’s hold. Donald was free to wrap both arms around Louie. Three voices began to hum a familiar lullaby in hope of calming the triplets further. Even with their comforting presence, it took awhile for the three to fall asleep. It was not the way Donald wanted to start his weekend. But he should have known nothing he plans ever goes his way. Even with this hiccup, he was happy to have his family close. Falling asleep with a smile on his face.

 Donald was able to take his pent up frustration on the idiot who had allowed children to rent a horror movie. Panchito coming as back up to make sure the duck didn’t kill anyone.  

[anniebrainrots]

Visit

In which you visit Dream to get the revival book. 

===================

warnings: sadistic! reader, slight mention of torture

wc: 2.5k 

===================

“And what is your relationship with the prisoner?” 

The question hung heavily in the air, and the burning stare the warden gave you would have given you goosebumps hadn’t you known him before. 

You gave him a smirk, sharp canines glinting dangerously in the low light of the prison. “Oh, come on, Sammy. You know who I am, already, why are we even bothering with the formalities, hm? Just let me see him.” 

“Answer the question properly, please.” 

You pouted, even if he was the guard of a maximum security prison and was known as some unyielding and heartless warden, Sam was still as polite as ever.

“Nice to see you haven’t changed much, Sam.” You put a finger to your chin and pretended to think, “hmm, I guess he was a friend? An ally?”

The man squinted at you before scribbling something in a book. “And lastly, why are you visiting the prisoner today?”

You chuckled inwardly at the extensive procedures, but deep down your brain was frustrated and impatient; but still, you just smiled and tried to get everything over with.

“Just wanna visit and talk to him, ‘s all.”

Sam hummed, closing the book. “Very well. Follow me.” He led you down a hallway that opened up to your left, making you whistle in amazement.

“Heard from Sap that you built this prison by Dream’s request, gotta hand it to ‘ya buddy, you did a great job. Kinda ironic that Dream’s gonna spend the rest of his life rotting here, though.” You walked with a confident strut, arms raised and folded behind your head as you continued down the dark hallway of blackstone.

He deliberately ignored your last statement, “thank you for the compliment.”

You reached a room with four doors and he took you to the one farthest on the left. There was an ender chest to the farthest wall and a chest labeled ‘Locker 1”. “Dispense all your items in the chest and wait for the key to come out. Put that key in your ender chest and we can head to the cells.”

You followed all of his instructions mutely, the looming energy of the prison finally settling into your bones. The next few steps involved getting splashed with various potions and walking through various hallways of lava, water, and blackstone. You couldn’t wait to see him, after all you heard from the outside, you wanted to hear straight from the source.

Soon enough, you reached a room in which one wall was fully encased in lava. He tells you that Dream would be standing on the other side of the wall and you felt your fingers twitch in excitement.

“You sure about this?”

You rolled your eyes at that. Of course that would be the first thing he would ask you as himself rather than the warden. “Yes I’m sure, Sammy. Why, you think this is a bad idea?”

“No, I just—alright, just face the lava wall, it should come down soon.”

The man sighed, looking at you with defeat in his eyes before he turned to the wall behind him and pulled a lever.

You hummed but didn’t respond, following his instructions quietly. It took a while for it to fully settle, so you opted to hum a song.

“What are you planning on doing?”

You were barely halfway through the L’manburg anthem before cutting yourself short. You answer without looking back.

“What do you mean? I told you I was just paying an old friend a visit, right?” You turn your head slightly to the side, looking at him from the corner of your eyes behind you.

He crossed his arms, leaning against the wall behind him. Since you entered the prison, this was the most casual he looked. “I mean it, Red. Why did you come back?”

You smirked at the nickname. ‘The Red Queen’, you were known as. Rumors had spread about your ‘violent behaviors’ when you were traveling with Dream, thus earning you the nickname which your old friends couldn’t help but tease you with. You guessed that the name stuck with some people more than others.

You gave him a slight shrug, turning back to the lava. “Maybe I just wanted to see it for myself, the bastard finally rotting in a place worse than hell.”

He didn’t answer, and you didn’t care enough to listen if he did because the lava finally fell to a point where you could see a tuft of dirty blond hair in the distance. When the burning liquid finally settled at the bottom, you could see him standing there from behind the netherite blocks.

Sam told you to stand on the platform and you listened, fists clenching as you slowly approached the prison cell. The man inside the obsidian cell looks at you with cold eyes, similar to what you remember from outside the prison, though a lot more empty as opposed to being filled with power-hungry rage. You took a first step on the obsidian before the platform behind you retracts back and the lava falls back from behind you.

The netherite barrier sunk into the ground, letting you walk around the tiny cell freely. You hummed at the sparse decorations: a chest, a desk, and a clock with a tiny note on it that said ‘Do not burn’.

Your green-eyed friend judged you from his sitting position on the floor, following your movements with squinted eyes. “What are you doing here?”

You stopped your aimless wandering, turning to him with a sigh. “Why does everyone keep asking me that? Is it weird for an old friend to come visit every once in a while? I was here when you founded the SMP.”

He gave you an unimpressed look, “you betrayed me.”

You shrugged at that, though something in you became slightly ticked off at the accusation. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. Let’s agree to disagree.”

“Why are you here?” He repeated.

You sighed in mock sadness. “You’re just like Sammy out there. Not even a ‘hello’? Or a ‘long time no see’? Or a—you know, you used to call me by a nickname. What was it?” You paced up and down the small room. Of course, you were only messing with him, you couldn’t resist antagonizing him, after all.

“Flower. Why are you here?”

“Ah, yes. Flower! You used to call me that all the time,” you smile down at him, aura turning sinister and deadly. You pulled out the chair from his desk before settling it against the wall on the opposite side of the man. His mask was on the table next to a closed book, one of the few things he got to keep in his cell besides his precious clock that, from the looks of it, was not very precious to him at all.

“I’ll cut to the chase, Dream. I heard you have a little trick up your sleeve. A revival book. I’m gonna kindly ask that you hand it over to me. Take it as a gift for your dear ol’ pal.” Despite the playful nature of your words, Dream felt a chill run up his spine.

Still, not one to back down, he smirked back at you with equal heat. “I burned the book, Red. There’s no physical remnants of it in this world.”

You hummed, swinging your legs back and forth. You smiled at him with a tilt to your head, “then teach me how to do it.”

Dream rolled his eyes and scoffed, leaning back against the wall. “No.” There was nothing that he could gain from it.

“Not even if I help you break out of here?”

The way Dream paused made you produce a smile he couldn’t see. The man contemplated your words, mulling them over, weighing the consequences. He wasn’t going to lie, he has thought about calling you and asking for your help to break out of the prison. His plans to escape had to involve people from the outside, and he thought you were a powerful enough ally to do just the job. But, he thought, that the knowledge of the revival book was too powerful, too expensive to give for the exchange for his freedom that wouldn’t even be complete. Even if he did escape, there would be people constantly hunting him down until eventually, he would run out of tricks.

He sighed in defeat at his own thinking, sure that you thought of these scenarios as well, judging from the way you turned to him with a smug look.  

“No,” he finally said. He also had that favor to cash in with Technoblade; and as far as he knew, no matter how strong you were, that Technoblade would be even stronger. “Besides, Quackity’s been asking for the same thing, and he’s torturing me to have it. If I haven’t even given it to him, what makes you think I’ll give it to you?”

You pouted, getting off the chair and walking over to the lava. You put your palm as close to the lava as you could bear, intense heat warming your hands instantly as you ponder over his words.

Dream was sure he finally got you. Even if you were to torture him and hurt him, he has gone through enough to block out the pain. You could never do worse than Quackity.

“I heard Sapnap visited you a while ago.” That perked the man upright from his slouching position, narrowing his eyes at you with a glare that you chose to ignore. “I saw him on my way to the prison. He said he stops by the prison from time to time, just to make sure you haven’t escaped. How does that feel, Dream? When one of your closest friends wants you to stay rotting in this place?”

Dream’s fists clenched in anger, heat simpering through his bones as you continued to talk like nothing was the matter. He would’ve loved to throw you into the lava, but the fight in him dwindled as he was worn down by the prison, and he has long since accepted his fate.

“You know, when I came in, Sam made me sign a visiting book or something. Made me sign my name n’ shit. I saw a few familiar names, some new ones. But, I didn’t see a name I thought for sure I would see.”

Dream felt his heart drop to his stomach, already knowing who you had in mind. A shadow loomed over him, making him feel smaller than he had ever felt. His hard expression crumbled as he looked up at you, crouching in front of him with a grin on your face. He never felt more like prey, like a lamb to the slaughter, more than sitting here in front of you.

You took his silence as your cue to continue, “George hasn’t visited you at all, hasn’t he?” There it was, the final hit to complete the combo. Dream, instead of growing angry and lashing out, slumped farther into the wall as if to hide himself from your snake-like grip on his mind. You stood up, going back to pacing the wall back and forth as you continued to monologue.

“I saw him on my way here, too. He had this cute little mushroom hat that—he told me—came from the kingdom that he started with Sapnap and this guy named Karl. Lots of new faces and names around here, Dream. Anyways, I made some small talk with Georgie, it was a miracle I even saw him, do you remember how he was always asleep? You could never make that guy attend any important events in his life.” You shook your head at the fond memory, glancing at Dream from the corner of your eyes, seeing his head still leaned down and staring at the ground. Still, you knew he was listening to you.

“I saw XD there, you know. What’s that about? He calls himself a benevolent god with an unforgiving nature, but in the end he’s just a guy with powers who has himself wrapped around Georgie’s fingers. Who could blame him, though? George is very charming. Now, pop quiz. How can you hurt a man who is blessed by a god?”

Dream’s head turned to you sharply, glaring at you with eyes full of heat. “Whatever you’re planning, don’t do it or I swear to god I will make you regret it.”

You continued to pace, unbothered by what he said. “Incorrect! You lose a point for that one. The correct answer is—”, you stopped in front of Dream, “you make him reject the god, then when he’s alone, you attack.”

You took a seat on the chair from across Dream, holding yourself up with your arms as you leaned forward as if to taunt the man sitting in front of you. Speaking of, he hasn’t stopped glaring at you, and it made you giggle excitedly to yourself. Good, this is good, you were getting a reaction which meant you were breaking him.

You stretched your arms above your head with a stifled yawn, “I’ll kill him.”

That’s it? You mentioned the revive book earlier so you must know that he can just bring George back to life. To your threat, Dream scoffed, “I can just bring him back.”

You smiled knowingly, “I know. Which is why I’ll just have to drag it out, I’ll kill him so painfully slow, then when he goes you’ll just bring him back. Then we repeat until you give up.”

Dream felt as if his world stopped. His best friend, dying by the hands of someone he used to admire, to cherish? He tried to respond, to deny, to say something. But he couldn’t, and all that would leave his lips were stutters that made you smile.

You crouched in front of him again, and this time his heart skipped a beat. Out of fear? He wasn’t sure, but he felt like something akin to an animal who’s been cornered with nothing to lose.

“I can just see it, Dream. You sitting right where you are, watching me hurt our little Georgie. He’ll start to beg me. Beg me to stop, to just kill him and end it. But, I won’t. And you won’t stop bringing him back, either.”

You took your hand and brought it up to Dream’s hair, the first time you’ve touched him since you entered the prison. You brought his head up so he was looking up at you, giving him the perfect view of your face.

“Then eventually, Dream, he’ll stop begging me.” You gripped his hair a bit tighter, “and he’ll start begging you. To make it stop, for you to stop bringing him back so he doesn’t have to go through all that pain anymore. I wonder, Dream, if you’ll be able to do that.”

For the first time, you could see Dream’s eyes well up with tears, making you giddy with power.

“Please, don’t.” He whispered, the shake in his voice prominent as he tried to hold back sobs.

You leaned in close to his ears, and you noticed he’s shaking. “So, what will it be, Dream?”

[internalsealpanic]

Lesson Learned

summary: Pinning exercises are a lot easier when you ask nicely.

a/n: The backstory to this piece was that I went to the church part of our discord server and told people about me being thirsty about Slade and they collectively went: DO HIM. The reader does have a backstory which boils down to rich girl from a crime family is a little shit because I thought this would have a funny dynamic with Slade.  Special thanks to @batarella and @knightfall05x for proof reading and giving me ideas. Would this count as my one entry for kinktober? 

warnings:  This is straight up smut. Please read responsibly. Brat taming, strength kink, daddy kink, orgasm denial, and hinted size kink. (Hilariously half of these were by complete accident.) There is some injury mentioned but not too graphically. Both characters are assholes.   

masterlist

Slade was on the ground, his head was swimming even as the sharp shriek of sirens rang loud in his ears. His senses were at once too sharp and too unfocused. Whatever drug he'd been hit with had to have targeted the nerves in his muscles too. He couldn't move. Not substantially anyway. Not in a way that would actually help him.  Through the haze he hears the clicking of heels against the floor, then a sharp pain shoots through him when said heel dug into one of his still closing bullet wounds. 

 You stood above him, your shark's smile hidden behind your mask.  "Well old man, I didn't think you would be caught this easy. I might need to rethink this meeting." You hummed tapping your chin as you lean down your heel digging further into his flesh. It's a tactic your sister had taught you. People were less inclined to think clearly when in excruciating pain.  If Deathstroke was this easy to capture, was he really worth your money? 

 He was watching you, blue eyes looking defiant. You whistled low. You liked a hard negotiation. It kept things more interesting. The rapid footsteps of men drew you out of your contemplation much to your annoyance. You debated on just paying them to go away. It would make your life easier but there's a chance these men were truly loyal to the man you had just paid a visit to.

 You weigh your options. His reputation may be enough to keep your siblings away. Maybe just long enough 'til their petty little war is over. "I'm going to hire you-"

 "-this assumes I'm going to say yes"

 You snorted. He noted the confident roll in your shoulders, the kind of cocky self-assured gesture of someone who knows they're going to win.  Every movement, every angling of your form deliberately used to show a difference in power and lack of respect. In short, it made you very punchable.

 "Your statement assumes you have a choice." You chuckled tilting your head to the side in challenge. He scowled at you and you try to keep the sheer delight you feel out of your body language. You weren't sadistic by any means but for one, brutality was practically bred into you, and two, you are, what your darling eldest brother had so kindly put, a  little bitch.  "I'll tell you why you'll say yes to my proposal." You said stepping off of him and pirouetting towards your duffle bag. "One, I'm offering your more than a million dollars in cash for the simple job of training me-" You observed his face as it remains carefully impassive. You expected as much. You heft your bag into your arms and unzip it rummaging through the cache of weapons you had stored just in case plan A through F failed you. "Unless we're associated, I'm the only one walking out of here with any money for their troubles." You said tossing the severed head of his target in front of him. You gave him an all too pleased grin. 

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 You find yourself pinned down again in the span of 15 minutes, face squished against the training mat, your arms pinned behind you, and most annoyingly your ass raised while your bastard of an instructor laughs in your ear, his lips dangerously close to your ear. You hiss and bristle feeling the fibers in your muscles burn from the uncomfortable angle they've been forced into.  You squirm trying to buck him off but his strength rendered your efforts moot. His enhanced strength keeps your body firmly between the sweat-covered mat and his large, toned body which just made you bite your lip to keep anything vulgar from escaping you. 

 You were 110% sure he was fucking with you at this point but any smart remark you had was either smothered by the mat or died whenever you felt acutely aware of your skin against his.  

 "Get off of me, old man," You snarl, making a futile attempt to kick him off with one of your legs. He chuckles at your weak attempts, the reverberations from his chest pressing against your back sending a thrum of excitement rolling over you concentrating into more distracting areas. You can't see it but you know he's grinning smugly above you and you can't decide whether it's your horniness or your anger that will win out. You sincerely hope it's the latter. 

 "C'mon, kid, you can get out of this," He encourages but you don't miss the playful mockery dancing in his tone. You squirm and wriggle and sigh. "Just let me out," You demand, politely. He doesn't budge. You turn your head to pout petulantly at him. That doesn't do anything either. 

 You sigh again. You hated pinning exercises with a carefully cultivated passion which you would normally direct at whatever instructor was dumb enough to force it upon you. However, that wasn't really possible as of this moment. One of the reasons for this hatred was that you were never pinned down unless you wanted to be, even then they were usually too hesitant to follow through so you never really saw any practical use for the skill. That is until last week when you found yourself being pinned down by the Red Hood which was honestly a fantastic position if you weren't trying to get away from him. Apparently, the large man didn't take too kindly to being shot at even when your very professional self explained that you were in fact a decoy. After you were entirely unable to slip his hold, you begrudgingly agreed to let Slade teach you a few maneuvers. The other reason was that you liked being pinned down. Your body is far too enthusiastic about the feeling of being pinned down. You're pretty sure you've expended more energy into suppressing your thrilled shivers than you have trying to get out of any of the holds he's demonstrated so far.  The fact that he was an attractive asshole with no shirt did not help.    

 "Maybe if you ask nicely, princess" He drawls his teeth grazing your ear, beard bristling against the sensitive skin of your shoulder. You bite back a groan and stop the cant of your hips. "Or are you even capable of that?"

 "I am, sir" You grind out but it sounds too breathy to be threatening. You feel the curve of his lips against your shoulder.

 "Dunno, brat, I've never seen you do it," He taunts pressing closer to you. You're suddenly aware of just how close you two are. You hate how the way he called you brat sent thrills up your spine. You try to even your breath but you're entirely too feverish both body and mind. You had to think of something before you were lost in a haze.

 You nudge your arm one last time before an idea strikes. A familiar shark-like grin spreads like wildfire across your features. Pressing your ass against his crotch, you roll your hips, the movement slow and deliberate and painfully tempting. Sure, it was a dirty trick but 1) he never said anything about using your assets 2) you've been wanting to do that since the first hold. You feel his muscles tense and you can't help but radiate smugness.  Your smile vanishes, however, when he rolls his hips against yours giving you a feel of his hardened length through the thin fabric of your gym shorts. The slow, tantalizing friction against your core draws out a vulgar moan from you. 

 "Do you wanna run that by me again, brat?" He whispers low and husky emphasizing the last word with another grind of his hip. You pant, hips answering back with their own desperate movement. You want to let your hips keep moving, to make him move, to feel his cock against your core but pride flared in your chest. "Make me." You bite out. "I really should teach you some manners."You feel the low rumble of his answer in response seemingly amused by your continued resistance. He rocks his hips against yours drawing out another breathy moan from you. Out of spite you bite your bottom lip and rock your hips in tandem with his. What did you hope to accomplish from this? You don't know but it certainly felt good. Your skin feels hot and oversensitive as your bodies continue to move at this rhythm. The feel of his muscles rippling against you makes you arch your back. You wanted more but you had too much pride. As if spurred on by the movement, he presses a kiss on your shoulder and sucks at your flesh, a rough hand grips your waist tight enough to bruise. "Slade!" You choke out losing your composure.  The cry sounds more like a plea than you would like. You sound so small and needy beneath his ministrations. 

 Distilling your anger into your weakening limbs you try to buck him off again. You make a small noise of triumph when he budges but whine when his grip on you just gets tighter. "Not quite, princess,"  

 He flips you onto your back. A hand pins both your arms above your head as he situates himself between your legs. His lips capture yours in a rough kiss, the type where you feel two bodies fighting each other for dominance. His teeth bite lightly against your bottom lip asking for entrance. You open your lips less in concession and more of a challenge. The wet muscles of your tongues entangle. Your nose is filled with the musk of him. It was overwhelming. You moan into the kiss and you feel him smile into it. Another small victory. 

 Slade ends the kiss having undeniably won the match. You try to move your hand to punch the grin off his face but again your hands don't budge. You curse his enhanced strength halfheartedly as the feeling of the heat coiling in the pit of your stomach takes over. Instead of diving back in for another kiss as you expected, Slade trails kisses down your jawline, your throat, and your collar bone leaving very defined very visible hickeys. There was something oddly possessive in his actions.  The look in his eye was predatory. 

 You, foolishly, let your attention wander to your hands seeing what angle you could possibly force them into so you can slip his grip and maybe turn the tables. Your attention snaps back to him when the pressure around your chest loosens and the distinct sound of a zipper fills your ears. Your eyes widen as you watch as he unzips the front of your sports bra with his teeth. Your breath catches even as your chest fills with the lack of constriction. Your too hot skin is grazed by the training room's cold air. He places a kiss in the valley between your breasts but when you whimper and move slightly urging him to proceed. He moves on to your stomach. "Asshat" You seethe through gritted teeth. You let out a groan of frustration. You were going to kill him. You honestly don't care if you've just wasted half a billion dollars on this asshole. 

 His kisses drift down to your inner thigh drawing a moan from you. Slade chuckles seeing your desire seeping through the thin fabric of your shorts. He isn't entirely surprised considering how unsubtle you are about your interest. A rare moment of embarrassment blankets you. Your legs try to close but rough hands pry them apart placing them on his broad shoulders. You bite your lip when he plants a kiss on your inner thigh. Your lips are puffy and red at this point, looking delicious as you panted. Slade wonders how your lips would feel around his cock but he decides he'll save that for another time. He hooks his fingers on the waistband of your shorts and his eye widens momentarily when he doesn't feel a second layer of fabric underneath it. He looks at you incredulously.

 You shrug trying to keep the mischief off your face looking absolutely unapologetic. "It's laundry day-" You shrug a little amused that this is the detail that caught him off guard. "-I did tell you I had stuff to do~"He also supposedly had stuff to do but, apparently, you were stuff. He chuckled and without dignifying your comment with an actual response, he rips your shorts off with ease and tosses them somewhere behind him.  A complaint or a threat, you weren't entirely sure, died on your lips when his tongue gave your core a nice long lick. A loud, needy keen escapes you. Your hands now free from his grasp dig into his scalp.  Pleased with your reaction he continues. His skilled tongue exploring your core hitting spots you didn't even know were there. Your hips meet to match his pace as he fucks you with his tongue. You whine when he withdraws his tongue but mewl loud and wanton when you feel two rough fingers stretching your insides. His mouth latches onto your sensitive bud, fingers pumping in and out.  You throw your head back not being able to contain your moans.

 "Look at me, brat," The command is deep and resonant. Your whole body buzzes with excitement. Slade can see your eyes dilate as his voice drops an octave. 

 "Yes," Your breath hitches when he doesn't move. "Sir" You add as a concession hoping it was enough. You felt your pride waning from the small piece of power being given away. Thankfully, he rewards you with another long lick before you can dwell on it. Slade watches as your face twists in pleasure trying your best not to throw your head back. You see the smugness on his face even when half of his face is buried between your legs. You don't attempt a threat simply because you don't trust whatever comes out of your mouth to be coherent. You were so close. You rock your hips trying to chase your high. Your skin is flush and glistening with sweat. You were so close. He feels your walls tightening around his fingers. Another needy keen escapes you as you were about to tip over the edge. 

 The motherfucker pulls back. You snarl at him but it comes out sounding more like a needy croon than anything else. He chuckles at you even as he captures your lips for another kiss. His tongue is thick with the taste of you. Your hand tangles itself into his hair while the other tugs at the waistband of his sweatpants.  He pulls away giving your lips one last nip before his body is off of you. It's funny how just moments ago you wanted him off of you badly enough that you'd play any dirty trick you could think of but now your skin is burning for his touch.  He takes off his sweat pants and his engorged cock slaps against his abs. It takes every brain cell at your disposal not to drool at the sight of it. He was BIG. You wonder briefly if he would even fit.  

 He spits on his cock rubbing his head against your thoroughly soaked folds. You mewl. A playful look in his eye does not go unnoticed but you were far too preoccupied with other concerns. Thankfully, so did he. Slade eases into your pussy in slow shallow thrusts. You can physically feel your walls stretching inch by inch as he works his way into your tight pussy. He can feel every bit of resistance your pussy is putting up. It's his turn to hiss when he finally bottoms out. Your walls cling to his member trying to milk it for all its worth. You drag your nails down from his shoulder to his arms. You pout when his skin heals immediately. You wanted to mark him as he did you but apparently, his healing factor was not up to being kinky today.   

 He laughs at your little protest and gives you a quick kiss. He begins to thrust shallow and languid. Your lips are locked in, sensually nibbling at each other's lips. You arch your back pressing your chest against his musculature savoring every bit of stimulation you could get.   You cant your hips against his urging him to go faster. His large hand grips your hips and pins them down. The coil in your stomach grows tighter at the ease at which he stops you. You feel him grin against your hot skin. 

 "Didn't I say I would teach you some manners?" He pulls himself out leaving you feeling hollow and wanting. You're pretty sure if you weren't drunk on your arousal the look in your eyes would be nothing short of murder, however, this was not the case, Whatever venom you had in you vanished in a swirl of neediness that racked your body. Your cant your hips uselessly trying to find friction only to be met with cool air. 

 "Slade pleeeeaaase!"

 You gasp, as a sharp stinging sensation on your pussy knocks the breath out of you. Slade gives you an expectant look. 

 "Sir, plea-"

 Another slap. Your back arches.  You’re panting heavy, mind swirling and searching. 

 "Daddy please!" The words tumble from your lips thoughtlessly. You both freeze. Slade's face is unreadable making you want to shrink away and let the earth swallow you whole. Panic rises in your chest until you feel his hips slam against yours. The force is enough to knock the breath out of you. He manhandles your body to fuck you at a better angle. His grip on your thighs tight and bruising. You whimper when he dips his head down near yours pressing kisses to your jaw and the pulsating flesh of your neck leaving your mouth free to moan his name like a mantra.   A deep resonant growl rumbles in his chest sending thrills through your skin into your spine. Your hardened nipples drag against his chest as they bounce with his pace. His cock pumps in and out of you at an animalistic pace. You were absolutely going mad over his rough pace but it wasn't enough to push you over. You were both so close.

 "Daddy, please! I- I need-" Slade's cock twitches. His pace goes from animalistic to punishing in the space of a heartbeat. He growls into your ear as he reaches down to rub your clit with skilled, calloused fingers. Your walls tighten around him as you go over the edge.  Your orgasm hits you in a flurry of heat and electricity. He fucks you through it as he chases his own. He pulls out his cock. Ropes of cum covering your chest and your stomach. 

 He lays beside you pulling you close. You moan quietly still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, planting an open-mouthed kiss. You ease into his hold and close your eyes. 

 "See how easy your life is when you're a good girl, princess," He whispers mockingly into your ear. You raise a middle finger at him too fucked out to care whether it actually conveyed as much venom as you wanted it to. 

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Thanks for reading! Next week will be our regularly scheduled fluff unless I get possessed by the thirst muses. 

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