#okay enough tags! ummm hit that heart or something let's WRITE together

[bcdluckstumblcd]

//I'm making my way through my long posts. I should have everything finished and out by Friday. (i got my car taken then got hurt lmaooo so i lowkey had to disappear for a sec but i am here and i wanna do short things/maybe build up some threads so !! hit that heart and i'll write a lil starter or i'll throw Jin in your inbox with a meme you recently retweeted (if you prefer that lemme know with a comment <3

[ceealaina]

Title: Mind Control Collaborator Name: ceealaina Card: 4008 Link: AO3 Square Filled: S1 - Technopathy Ship: IronHusbands Rating: Teen Major Tags: Technopathy, MIT Era, Fluff and Humor, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting Summary: Rhodey always knew that Tony was special. He just hadn't realized how special. Word Count: 2749

Rhodey had always known there was something different about Tony, something special — something beyond being heir to one of the biggest fortunes in the world. Despite all his bravado when they’d first met, it had been clear what a genuinely good person Tony was. He was unfailingly kind, generous to a fault. He was special.

But for all his observations, it was almost two years of calling Tony his best friend (and six months of calling him his boyfriend) before Rhodey had realized just how special. 

They’d moved in together after their first year, deciding that dorm life was not for them. The apartment was tiny and crappy, but it was theirs. And sure, they could have had top of the line everything with Tony’s trust fund, but millions or no, Rhodey insisted on paying his own way. (It was, Tony had declared one night when they were drunkenly celebrating the end of the semester, one of the things he loved best about Rhodey.) 

Which was how they ended up with the world’s most temperamental television set, some old thing that Rhodey had found on the side of the road, lugged home and bullied into working. Tony may have been the tech genius, but Rhodey was no slouch when it came to electronics himself, and this was his baby, his responsibility to take care of when she broke — which happened once every couple weeks. 

So when she finally broke to the point that even Rhodey had to admit defeat, to classify her as unrepairable, it hurt him more than he liked to admit. He knew it was foolish, but he couldn’t help giving her a quiet little goodbye, patting her on the top of her box and thanking her for all her hard work. 

Which, of course, was exactly when Tony had walked into the room. 

“Ummm.” Tony had his lips pressed tightly together, fighting back a smile, but Rhodey could see it curling at the corners of his mouth anyway. “Everything okay there, bud?”

Rhodey didn’t even try to pretend he wasn’t upset, just sighed heavily. “Betsy finally kicked it.”

“Betsy?” Tony repeated with an arched brow. “Sounds like somebody Captain America would have dated.” But he dropped his bag in the doorway, making his way over to the television in question. “Want me to take a look?” 

Rhodey gave a half-hearted, forlorn shrug, and Tony didn’t even have the grace to pretend he wasn’t laughing at him as he pulled the TV out, poking at the back of it. 

“Come on baby,” he purred, manipulating the wires. “Tell me what’s going on, yeah?” He talked away to the TV as he worked, pausing for breaks like it was a conversation, and Rhodey quirked his head as he watched him. There was something odd about the way Tony was working, something he couldn’t quite figure out. Rhodey had a tendency to talk out loud while he worked too, but this was different, like Tony was actually listening to a response. And then, after a few moments, Tony gave out a “Ha! There you are,” fiddled with something, and Betsy sparked to life again. 

“Holy shit,” Rhodey said, because he’d been working on the TV set for hours, and he hadn’t the idea of writing her off lightly. “How did you do that?” 

Tony shrugged, but he looked pleased as he rocked back onto his feet, wiping at a spot of grease on the side of his thumb. “I just listened to her, you know?” 

Rhodey just arched an eyebrow, because no, he didn’t really know. “Uh… Sure?” 

Tony just grinned wide and grabbed his bag to dump in his room. “Pizza tonight?” 

***

That might have been it, except that Rhodey kept noticing it after that. He’d always thought Tony talked to the coffeemaker like that because he loved coffee so much, but then the coffee always somehow tasted ninety times better when Tony made it. And he seemed to have uncanny luck when it came to traffic lights. Like in a way that Rhodey was pretty sure actually defied the laws of probability. And somehow their highly temperamental oven never seemed to burn the frozen pizzas that Tony put in, even though he could barely cook to save his life, and Rhodey -- who actually could cook, thank you very much -- always managed to burn his pizzas to a crisp. 

And then there was the ROTC Christmas party. The ROTC Christmas party always turned into a drunk fest, and Rhodey was no exception to the rule. He’d been looking forward to it since his second week of classes. Tony had been finishing up his final project for one of his classes anyway, so he’d promised to pick Rhodey up after, saving him from having to drunkenly stumble his way home. But he’d been late, and Rhodey had been waiting outside for nearly twenty minutes, distracted by the lightly falling snow, before Tony rolled up in his car. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Tony called, leaving the car running as he jumped out of the driver’s seat and hurried over to help Rhodey through the snow. “I couldn’t find my goddamn keys.” 

“I’m not so drunk I can’t walk,” Rhodey protested, unable to help the way his words all rolled together. “You don’t have to help me.” Tony’s hand on his arm was warm and comforting though, and he made no effort to pull it away. 

Tony just grinned at him and then reached up, brushing off the snow that had gathered on Rhodey’s bare head. “Why didn’t you wait inside, dumbass?” he asked.

Rhodey shrugged as Tony helped him into the car, pushing his head down so he wouldn’t smack it into the doorframe. “Got distracted by the snowflakes.” The fond smile that Tony gave him in return made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside and he snuggled into the cushy leather, watching Tony through the windshield as he hurried back around to the driver’s side and climbed in after him. 

“Here,” Tony said, turning the heat up until it was full blast. “You’re gonna freeze to death.” 

“I’m fine,” Rhodey protested. “I’m not even cold.” 

“You’re frozen,” Tony told him, grabbing his hands and rubbing them between his own hot ones. “You’re just too drunk to realize it.” 

Rhodey was pretty sure that wasn’t true, but the heat did feel nice, making him drowsy and lazy as Tony headed back toward the apartment. His eyes were getting heavy, now that the party was over, and he fell asleep not long after. 

But when he thought about it later, he could have sworn that there hadn’t been any keys in the ignition when his eyes had closed. 

Still, he probably could have written all of that off (maybe Tony had panicked when he couldn’t find his keys and hotwired his own car. That was totally something he would do) until the incident with the music. 

Rhodey had had a very long day, and felt like his head was splitting apart with a headache. All he had wanted was to go home and sleep for the next twenty-four hours, but he’d had to stop by Tony’s lab and tell him something that had seemed important at the time. Of course when he’d walked in there was music playing at an excruciatingly loud decibel, and no sign of Tony among all the bits of machinery. It was too loud for him to even hear himself think, let alone for Tony to hear if he called his name, and not in the mood to play hide and go seek, he’d headed over to the top-of-the-line stereo system and hit the pause button. 

The music kept playing

“What the fuck,” Rhodey grumbled, blinking down at it as he tried to will his brain to work. He hit the button again, wondering if he’d hit the wrong one or something, headache making him stupid, but still the music continued to blare out through the speakers. 

Of course, Tony was constantly taking things apart and putting them back together when he was trying to problem solve. He’d probably rewired it so that off was on and vice versa. Rhodey was too tired to try and figure out what button went where, so he just reached around back and pulled the cord right out of the socket on the wall. 

And the music kept playing. 

“What the fuck?” he shrieked, suddenly wide awake as he jumped back with the cord still in his hand. He pulled a little too hard, and the entire system fell to the floor with a loud crash, but the music still didn’t stop. 

And then: “Rhodey?” 

Rhodey just barely heard Tony’s voice over all the noise, but he whirled around to see Tony standing there with his arms full of spare parts, eyes wide and distressed. Abruptly the music cut off, the room going suddenly, eerily quiet. Rhodey blinked back at Tony, down at the stereo and the cord still in his hand, and then back at Tony. 

“Was this you?” 

“Listen,” Tony nearly tripped over his own feet as he stumbled over to the counter to set the things in his arms down, moving over to Rhodey with his hands held up in a placating motion, like he was terrified that Rhodey was going to run away in fear. “Rhodey, I can explain, I swear. It’s not what it looks like.” 

“Can you control electronics with your mind?” 

Tony’s face fell, and he winced. “Okay, maybe it is kinda what it looks like,” he muttered, staring down at his feet, and for the life of him Rhodey couldn’t figure out why he looked so dejected. 

“Holy shit, Tones,” he breathed, looking around the room with a new appreciation for everything Tony had in there. He grabbed Tony by the forearms. “This is awesome.” 

Tony’s head shot back up, staring at Rhodey with a startled expression. “Awesome?” he repeated, incredulously. The hint of a nervous smile twitched at his lips, like he didn’t want to get his hopes up. “You really think so?” 

Rhodey’s eyes narrowed slightly; he’d known Tony long enough to be all too familiar with the symptoms of Howard Stark’s A+ parenting. “Tony, let me say it again. You can control electronics with your mind. This is the coolest thing I’ve ever heard of! In the first place, I'm pretty sure this qualifies you as a bona fide superhero. And even as far as superpowers go, this is waaaay up there in coolness factor. You could have something lame like cheese manipulation--”

“Cheese manipulation?” Tony repeated, looking confused.  

“But let me say it again. You can control electronics with your mind.”

Tony snorted, but he was grinning now, shy and pleased. “I don’t know about superhero,” he protested. “But thanks. I guess. Although I feel like I should point out, it’s not like I actually did anything.” 

Rhodey ignored that. “How long has this been going on?” he asked instead, finally letting go of Tony’s arms. “Have you always known you could do this? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner.” 

“I mean…” Tony shrugged, rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Yeah? But when I was a kid I just thought it was normal. It wasn’t like I was around a whole lot of people, I just figured everyone could turn the lights on by thinking about it. And then when I was like five, Howard had a whole entire day where he actually remembered he was actually my dad, and he was showing me something in his lab, and I was so excited to be working with him that my dumb ass said something about being able to hear the electronics and, well… You know Howard.” He shrugged a little, seeming to shrink in on himself. “He looked at me like I was nuts -- like really nuts -- and made me leave, and then later that night I couldn’t sleep and I snuck out of bed to find Jarvis and I heard him whispering to Mom about psychiatrists and mental hospitals and sending me away. Obviously that didn’t happen, and when I didn’t bring it up again they forgot about it, but I guess after that I was scared to ever mention it to anyone.” 

Rhodey blanched. He’d seen the pictures of Tony as a little kid, heard the stories from Jarvis. He couldn’t imagine even considering sending away that sweet little thing to a mental hospital for something as innocuous as telling his father he could ‘hear’ the television. Not for the first time, Rhodey wondered what in the actual fuck was wrong with Howard Stark. He managed a smile for Tony though. 

“Guess I’m just special then, huh?” 

Tony huffed and rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help his little smile. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

Rhodey huffed right back at him. “Jesus Christ, quit looking so pathetic, you’re breaking my heart.” He wrapped his arms around Tony’s back, smiling to himself at the way Tony immediately melted into it, wrapping his arms around Rhodey’s waist in turn and leaning into his chest, despite the minimal height difference between them. “Listen, Tones. I know your dad’s got money, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a fucking moron. Howard sucks. This is literally the coolest thing to ever happen to me, and it’s not even happening to me.” 

There was a little giggle against his chest before Tony pulled back again. “Yeah?” he asked, smiling but still looking awkward. He let go of Rhodey’s waist and gave a little shrug. “I don’t know, I guess maybe I also kind of always felt like I’m cheating?” 

“Cheating?” Rhodey stared blankly back at him. “I don’t get it.” 

Tony shrugged again, somehow looking even more awkward. “Well you know. People give me all this credit for being smart, and good with tech and--,” 

“Nope,” Rhodey hollered as he figured out exactly where Tony was going with this. “Let’s just shut that shit down right now. You're using your natural talents to the best of your abilities. Would you consider…” 

He trailed off, trying to think of a good example, and Tony arched an eyebrow at him. 

“Captain America having the ‘ability’ to take on a tank cheating?” he offered with a wry grin. “Yeah, I absolutely would.” 

“Nope,” Rhodey said again. “Not the same at all.” 

“You’re the one who literally just compared me to a superhero,” Tony grumbled, but his smile looked a little more genuine now. 

“Still, not the same,” Rhodey insisted. “You were born with this, it’s not something you injected into your eyeballs.” 

“I don’t think…” Tony started, but stopped at the look on Rhodey’s face. 

“You’re not cheating any more than... Stephen Hawking is cheating,” Rhodey decided on finally. “He uses his brain to the best of its ability, and so do you. Besides, lotsa people have natural talent without a clue what to do with it. You’ve got both, so… Not a cheater.” 

“That’s a terrible conclusion. Not a bit of proof. It’s a hypothesis at best.” Tony was grinning though, that shy little smile that he got when he didn’t want Rhodey to know exactly how pleased he was. 

“I’m serious, Tones,” Rhodey insisted, because the best way to get Tony to really relax was to bully him into it. “This? Is cool. Think about all the things we can do with this!” 

“‘We?’” Tony repeated, voice dry. 

Rhodey ignored him. “You can fix my car for me... I’m never going to have to change a lightbulb again...” 

“You’re definitely still going to have to do that, that’s not how electricity works.” 

“You can get revenge on that asshole at the coffee shop who always makes my coffee wrong. Swear he does it on purpose,” Rhodey continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Hey! Can you do that thing in the movies, when you make money shoot out of the ATM?” 

Tony snorted, but he was fully beaming now, concerns apparently forgotten. “This all sounds like a whole lot of me doing the work while you get the benefit. What’s in it for me?” 

“Tony, baby.” Rhodey threw his arm over Tony’s shoulder and gave him his most obnoxious wink. “That’s what friends are for.” 

He waggled his eyebrows at him and headed for the door, busting up laughing when all he got was an indignant, “We’re boyfriends, asshole,” from behind him.

@tonystarkbingo  

[whimsymuse]

Storytelling (chapter 6)

➺ “You’re so used to following the path set for you by others, that is until a certain someone comes along and teaches you to write your own story.”

   A story in which a famous idol falls for an average college student and they both try to follow their dreams, while struggling to stay together.

A/N This is actually my first fic for this fandom, so hopefully you all enjoy it!

Masterlist

pairing: Namjoon x Reader

genre: Fluff, humor and knowing me probably some angst

warnings: strong language

words: 2,791

Chapter: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, ...

“What do you mean you didn’t get her number?!”

“Would you keep your voice down!” Namjoon hissed, “I mean just that. I didn’t get her number.”

“Namjoon, this is the first girl that’s caught your attention and you have no way to contact her?!”

“Why would I need to contact her?” Namjoon asked as he focused on the screen in front of him. He was helping Seokjin record his parts for one of their new songs, but they kept getting side-tracked.

“Ummm, I don’t know.” Seokjin said sarcastically, “Maybe because you like her?”

“I don’t like her.” Namjoon said, but then caught himself, “I mean, I do, but not in the way you mean. She was sweet though.”

Seokjin rolled his eyes, “Namjoon, you’ve been talking about this girl non-stop since you met her. You don’t just do that for someone who is just sweet.”

Namjoon sighed. Seokjin was right, it wasn’t like him to act this way. He’s met several people while out on his occasional walks and while they were all kind and sweet, he’s never dwelled on the time they’d spent together as long as he has been for you. It was so hard for him not to think about you. The moment he saw you in the cafe, he felt some kind of gravitational force pull him towards you and ever since, you never left his mind.

     If he was being honest, he didn’t like how he felt about you. He barely knew you, yet somehow you would always be incorporated into his day. He would be reading a book and he would wonder what kind of books you read. He would write songs and wonder if you would like them. On his walks, he would see flowers and think back to how passionately you spoke about them and he always caught himself smiling. He even traded out his usual coffee order for peppermint tea because the strange blend of warm water and cool mint was starting to grow on him. He felt like he was losing control of himself and he didn’t like that.

“Namjoon?” Seokjin waved his hand in front of Namjoon’s face, trying to catch his attention, “Namjoooon.”

Namjoon shook his head, “Huh?” he said, “Sorry hyung, what did you say?”

Seokjin shook his head, a light smile gracing his cheeks, “This is exactly what I mean.” He said, “You don’t just fall into a daze at the mention of just anybody.”

Namjoon ran a frustrated hand through his hair and sighed, “I don’t know, hyung.” He said. “I don’t want to like her.”

The elder man tilted his head in confusion, “What do you mean? You said that she was kind, smart and beautiful. If I remember correctly, she’s checking off all of the boxes for your ideal girl.”

“I know.” Namjoon said, “But it wouldn’t go anywhere. She probably doesn’t even remember me. Even if she did like me, I couldn’t be a good enough boyfriend for her.”

“Don’t say that.” Seokjin said with a frown.

“But, hyung, it’s true. We’re idols. We barely have time to ourselves with our packed schedules, let alone to hang out with others. Also, if she was with me, the media and our fans would be all over her. I couldn’t do that to her.”

“So what?” Seokjin looked at Namjoon, “Is that it? Are you just going to never speak to her again and forget about her.”

Namjoon’s lips pulled into a tight line as he directed his focus back onto his screen. “I have to, hyung.” He said.

Seokjin shook his head sadly and looked away from Namjoon. His eyes scanned the studio until they fell on a specific set of clothes that weren’t there before and he smiled. “Well, you’re going to have to at least see her again when you return those clothes you borrowed.”

The clothes? What clothes? Namjoon wondered as he followed the trail of his friend’s eyes to one of the chairs, on which those very clothes sat. It had been a week since that huge thunderstorm and he still hadn’t returned the clothes you let him borrow. “Shit.” He said, “I forgot about those.” He quickly turned to face Seokin, “Do you think you could-”

“Nope.” Seokjin cut in.

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask!” Namjoon said indignantly.

“No, I will not return the clothes for you. You borrowed them, you return them.”

Namjoon groaned and started hitting his head lightly against his desk.

“And hopefully,” His elder continued happily, “you’ll get her number this time.”

Namjoon groaned even louder, making causing Seokjin to laugh as he gently pat his back. “Love hurts, Namjoon. It’s okay.”

“Please shut up.” Namjoon said against the table and Seokjin just laughed even harder.

The reason why Namjoon took Seokjin with him to the shop was definitely not so that he had an excuse to not get sidetracked and end up talking to you for hours again. He certainly wasn’t bringing him along because he was afraid how he would act around you after he realized that he may or may not have feelings for you, because that would be extremely immature of him. And his heart was most definitely not starting to beat faster and faster with every step the two of them took towards the door of the flower shop.

“Namjoon, I can feel your nervousness from here.” Seokjin said, “Calm down, you’re just dropping off clothes.”

“I am calm.” Namjoon said, his abnormally high voice betraying him. He cleared his voice and stood a little straighter, “I mean, I am calm.” He said in a more casual tone, but his friend wasn’t buying it.

“Sure,” He said, “Whatever you say. Just don’t break anything when we’re in there.”

Namjoon turned towards Seokjin and scowled as he pushed the door open with his back, “I won’t break anything!”

Just as he pushed the door open wider for his friend to walk in, the two of them flinched when they heard something crash and break somewhere near them.

Seokjin shot Namjoon a scrutinizing stare, but Namjoon was too preoccupied with searching for what had broken.

“Oh dear.”

Namjoon spun around so quickly when he heard the voice that he almost got whiplash. His eyes focused on a petite old lady who, even though she was standing on a step stool, was still a few inches shorter than Namjoon.

“I’m so sorry!” Namjoon said with a bow, “I’ll pay for what I broke.”

The old woman carefully stepped off of the step stool, making sure to avoid the glass shards of the broken pot, and then stood before the two men. “Oh don’t worry about it dear, it wasn’t your fault. I just dropped the pot when you two walked in. It’s not your fault that I startle easily.” She said sheepishly, while flashing them a bright smile.

“Well, let us at least help you clean up since we were the ones who startled you.” Seokjin offered with a polite smile, which the old woman returned.

“If you could, that would be great. I could clean this on my own, but when you get to be my age, you take as much help as you can get.” She said.

The two men carefully made their way around the glass fragments and followed the old woman to the back of the flower shop to fetch a broom and dust pan. When they returned to the site of the accident, Seokjin insisted that he clean it up instead of Namjoon because he ‘did not trust Namjoon with any sharp objects anymore, not since the onion incident’ and Namjoon didn’t argue with him. Both him and Ms. Kang (earlier he’d read her name tag and found out her name) headed further into the store to get out of Seokjin’s way.

On their way to the back, Namjoon’s pace gradually slowed down as he took in the sights around him. The last time he was in the shop it had be really late at night, so he didn’t get to see the shop completely for what it was. But now in the bright daylight, he was enraptured by how many different plants and flowers surrounded him. He didn’t even know half of these plants existed and he just couldn’t stop staring at them. Eventually, his eyes fell upon a display of terrariums and pots filled with several different plants, all with roundish plump leaves. The terrariums and pots were arranged asymmetrically around a miniature fountain that had little golden lights glowing from beneath the flowing water, and if Namjoon didn’t know any better, he could have mistaken the lights to be the reflections of stars.The arrangement was just so well done that Namjoon couldn’t help but stop and stare.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Ms. Kang asked him.

He nodded, not having the exact words to describe exactly how beautiful he found the display to be. “Did you arrange it?” He asked.

“Oh goodness, no.” Ms. Kang laughed. “That was entirely my assistant’s doing. She has a natural gift of seeing and bringing out the natural beauty of things, especially in her arrangements.”

Namjoon smiled as he thought back to the bouquet you made. He hadn’t told you then, but that was probably one of the most beautiful bouquets he’d ever seen. It wasn’t complicated or anything. You didn’t add any special embellishments besides the wrapping paper and the bow; it was simply the way you arranged the flowers that made it so beautiful. Namjoon couldn’t help but think that Ms. Kang was right, you really did have a gift for bringing out the natural beauty of things.

“You must be very proud of your assistant.” Namjoon said as a light smile appeared on his face.

“I am. I’m very grateful to have her” Ms. Kang responded and Namjoon could hear the fondness in her voice. One could make the mistake of thinking she was referring to her daughter or her granddaughter, and not just her assistant. From what you told Namjoon, he knew your boss cared deeply for you, but it was reassuring to see how much she truly cared for himself.

“Anyways.” Ms. Kang said, turning to face Namjoon, “Is there anything I can help you with?”

For a second, Namjoon hesitated. He was so distracted by the plants and the display that he forgot why he was there.

“We came to return some clothes.” Seokjin answered, much to Namjoon’s relief. He came up with the empty dustpan and broom. “I finished cleaning the glass. Should I just put this back?” He asked Ms. Kang.

“I’ll take care of that dear, thank you.” She took the broom and dustpan, “You can follow me and we can also put the clothes away. Did you wash them?”

“O-Of course.” Namjoon responded and Ms. Kang smiled.

“Well, thank you for that. We have many things back here, but a washing machine is not one of them.”

As the three of them made their way to the back, Seokjin leaned in towards Namjoon, “Ms. Kang didn’t seem the least bit surprised about you having the clothes.” He whispered with a raised eyebrow.

“What are you implying?” Namjoon whispered back.

Seokjin shrugged, “I’m just saying. If you didn’t leave an impression on Y/n, she wouldn’t be talking about you to her boss.”

Namjoon tried to suppress the hope bubbling in the pit of his stomach when he heard that. He didn’t want to jump to any conclusions. “I ran into her shop drenched in water and I’m the reason she closed so late. Of course she had to tell her boss.” Namjoon reasoned.

His friend sighed, “Yeah, okay.” He said, “Shame she isn’t here for us to ask her.”

Namjoon lightly elbowed Seokjin as they reached the back. They put away the cleaning supplies and the clothes and then Ms. Kang offered them some tea as a thank you.

They politely accepted and drank their tea together around the counter in the store. Namjoon was the first to finish his tea out of the three of them and Ms. Kang gave him a confused expression.

“Is something wrong?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

Ms. Kang, seeming to not have realized she’d been staring, jumped a little, “Oh no!” she replied, “Nothing. I’m just surprised that you drank that tea so quickly. Y/n told me that you didn’t particularly care for peppermint tea, but unfortunately it was all we had.”

Upon hearing that, Seokjin choked on his tea while Namjoon was just froze on the spot.

“I’m sorry.” Ms. Kang said, “Did I say something wrong? I assumed you were the cute boy Y/n was talking about, the one who as to borrow some clothes after the storm. Was I wrong?”

At this point, Namjoon had his face hidden behind his folded hands and he bowed his head down in an attempt to hide his rapidly reddening face.

“No.” Seokjin said in between his chuckles, “You’re not wrong.” He started to smack Namjoon’s back, “This is the cute boy Y/n was talking about, in the flesh.”

Ms. Kang’s face lit up, “Oh that’s good! You’re as sweet and as cute as she said!”

Namjoon pressed his face into his palms and groaned quietly. Much to both Seokjin and Ms. Kang’s amusement.

The two spent the next few minutes teasing Namjoon about his bright red face, until a couple customers entered the shop and forced Ms. Kang away.

Namjoon tried to busy himself with his phone to avoid his older friend’s gaze and as he checked his phone, he noticed a couple texts from the other members asking where they were. He pulled on Seokjin’s sleeve, “Hyung, we have to get back now. The other members are looking for us.”

“Yeah okay, but let’s just say bye to Ms. Kang before we go.” Seokjin responded and Namjoon nodded.

“Bye, Ms. Kang.” They both called out from the front of the shop, but they weren’t greeted by a response. All they heard were a couple of quick apologizes and excuse me’s, before they saw her small figure quickly making its way towards them.

“Goodbye you two.” She said, as she forced a small pot with a green roundish leaved plant in them into both of their hands. They were similar to the plants Namjoon was looking at earlier that were on display near the fountain. “Take these.” She said, “And this will help.” She added as she stuffed a piece of paper in Namjoon’s chest pocket.

The two of them tried to protest, but before they could, Ms. Kang pushed them out the door and waved goodbye.

After a silent beat, Seokjin asked “What just happened?”

“I’m not sure,” Namjoon responded, “but I think we just got some free plants.”

They both looked down at the plants. Seokjin had one that had light greyish green leaves, that were mostly rounded until their pointed tips. Namjoon’s was a more forest green plant with long and was seemed to be furry leaves.

“What even are there?” Seokjin asked and he delicately prodded at the leaves, “I’ve never seen them before.”

Namjoon reached into his pocket and pulled out the paper Ms. Kang stuffed in there and read it.

These are succulent plants. I just wanted to give them to you thank you for your help. They’re some of the easiest plants to take care of. All they need is to be in direct sunlight and to be watered once a week, but other than that, you can keep them inside all year and they should be fine. If you have any question about them, feel free to stop by again!

Ms. Kang’s neat handwriting was scrawled across the paper and Namjoon almost closed the note before he noticed a smaller message tagged onto the bottom:

P.S I would suggest coming by late on weekdays or early on weekends if you’re hoping to catch Y/n, next time. ;)

Red immediately rushed into Namjoon’s cheeks.

She ended the note off with winky face. A FREAKING WINKY FACE! Was he really that obvious?

Seokjin leaned in to read the message and started wheezing. “Oh, man!” He said as he wiped a tear from his eye, “Even her boss is trying to set you two up!”

“Please shut up.” Namjoon said. He started to briskly walk in the direction of their dorm and tried desperately to gain control over his racing heart, thought that’s been a hard task for him ever since you came into the picture. The two of you only met twice, and he already knew you were going to be the death of him.

Chapter: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, …

please do NOT edit, copy or repost

[hannahindie]

Memory Foam and Fever Dreams

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, Sam Winchester (brief) Word Count: 2,862 Warnings: Sickness, Leslie Knope inspired fever sequence, and Dean being a gosh dang cutie. It’s a lot of fluff. A/N: I wrote this for two reasons: One, because @trexrambling requested fluff, and when my writing soulmate requests something (especially after I have continuously destroyed with angst) she gets it. Second, I am stupidly and embarassingly late on @impalaimagining’s 5K Follower celebration because Tumblr ate it and then I got distracted. Congrats on the followers, although I’m sure by now you’ve far surpassed that number. lol My Friends’ quote is bolded within the fic. Have some cute, fluffy Dean before I change my mind.

Thanks to @pinknerdpanda for beta’ing all my fluffy words. You’re the best, bean. :) “ Eeeeeekkkk!!!! Hldyoepufpuehlkgdljdogdlhdlhd!!!!! I love it!!!”

As always, tags are at the bottom. If you’d like to be added, please let me know. :)

Dean wandered into the kitchen, his hair bedraggled as he drug a hand across his still sleep hazed eyes. The smell of coffee had been what had drug him out of his room after two days of near hibernation. The past week and a half had been rough; what started out as a simple salt and burn became annoyingly difficult due to the amount of rain the area had been getting. Just when they thought they were going to have some time off, a vamp nest cropped up on the way home, and then a demon possession. Although they had taken care of all three things and did so in almost record time, they had barely slept. Dean groaned as he stretched, his joints reminding him that he was getting too old for all this.

He smiled as he caught sight of Y/N moving around the kitchen, her hair piled on the top of her head in a messy bun as she cooked breakfast. He shuffled over to the coffee pot, grabbed a mug, and carefully poured the life giving liquid. “Mornin’,” he mumbled, grunting as he planted himself carefully at the table.

“Morning.” Y/N’s response was short and Dean raised an eyebrow.

“What’s your deal?” he asked as he took a sip of coffee.

Y/N turned to face him and shrugged, “Just tired, I guess.” She laid a napkin and a fork in front of him, and Dean could feel the heat coming off of her.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You look like you might have a fever. C’mere.” He sat his mug down and gestured for her to come back.

She shook her head, “I’m fine, okay? I just need some more sleep. I’ll take a nap later.” She turned back to the oven, and Dean didn’t miss how she grasped the counter for a moment as if she was trying to keep her balance.

“Seriously, Y/N, maybe you should sit down-”

“I’m fine!” she snapped as she slammed a plate on the counter and started loading it up with eggs and bacon. She turned and Dean could see the thin sheen of sweat on her forehead. She stepped forward to put his breakfast on the table, and before he could say or do anything else, her eyebrows knitted together as she tilted forward, “I think I might not be fine…” The plate hit the floor with a crash and Dean managed to catch her before she fell.

“Oh, shit, Y/n!” He brushed the hair from her face and jerked his hand back when he touched her burning skin. “Jesus...Sam! Sammy! I could use your help!” He gently lowered her to the cool tile, then yelled again, “Sam! Hurry up!” He heard Sam’s heavy steps echoing through the bunker as he hurried to the kitchen and slid to a stop in front of them.

“What the hell?” He knelt next to Dean and put his hand to Y/N’s forehead, “She’s burning up!”

“I noticed, Sam.” He gently picked her up and began making his way to the garage, “Grab her bag, and get my wallet from my jeans, would ya? We gotta get her to the hospital.” Sam ran back towards the bedrooms, and Dean cradled Y/N carefully to his chest as he carried her to the car.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open and she narrowed her eyes at the sterile smell that assaulted her nostrils.

“What the hell?” her voice came out as a croak, just loud enough to disturb the sleeping lump sprawled lazily in the chair next to her.

Dean sat up with a jerk, “You’re awake.” He rubbed the heel of his hand across his eyes, then blinked sleepily at her.

“Of course I’m awake, where am I? What am I doing here?” She started to swing her legs over the side of the bed, and Dean gently rested his hand against her shoulder to stop her.

“Hey, whoa there tiger, you’re in the hospital. You’re really sick. I guess the past couple of hunts took it out of you.”

She shook her head, “Nope, I’m fine. I need to get back to the bunker, there’s research to do.” She fumbled with the IV line, grimacing as she tried to yank it out of her hand. Dean put his hand over hers and she glared at him.

“You aren’t going anywhere, kiddo. You had a temperature of a hundred and four when we got you in here, and it’s not gone down yet. You have to stay.”

“You aren’t my real mom!” she yelled as she finally managed to yank out the IV and slid off the bed and towards the door.

“Well, I mean, that’s true, but you don’t have to yell about it.” He crossed in front of her and put his arm across the door to block her path. “You’re dehydrated, they’re afraid that this flu could turn into pneumonia, and they’ve got you on enough drugs it should have knocked out an elephant. Should have known you’d be too damn hard headed to let that happen.”

“If you don’t get out of my way, Dean Winchester, I’m gonna tell Sam about you usin’ his toothbrush to clean the toilet.”

Dean looked at her with wide eyes, “How did you know I did that?”

She waved her hand vaguely, “A girl never reveals her secrets. Now lemme go.” She pushed past him and wandered down the hall towards the exit.  Dean burst out laughing when he realized the back of her gown was open.

“Well, she’s sure revealing something,” he said with a grin as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and snapped a couple of pictures. After getting what he thought was the appropriate amount of blackmail photos, he went back into the room to get Y/N’s bag and clothes, then dialed Sam.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Sammy. She’s going AWOL, so if you could just pull up front, that would be great.” He stepped back into the hallway and chuckled when he saw that Y/N had stopped walking and was having a conversation with a potted plant near the nurses’ station. “We’ll be out there as soon as she quits talking to this plant.”

There was a beat of silence as Sam tried to make sense of what Dean had just said, “Wait, what is she doing? Should she be leaving?”

“No, probably not, but it’s Y/N and she apparently does what she wants. Just pull up front. We’ll be there in a few.” He hung up and slowly approached Y/N, who was stroking the leaves of the artificial plant and asking who its stylist was. “Alright, let's go Poison Ivy, time to get home.”

She frowned, “But I was just making a new friend. Look at her hair! It’s marvelous…” Dean gently pried her fingers from the leaves, smiling at the nurse that was watching with her arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

“I know, sweetheart, but we gotta go. Sam is coming to get us! And that nice lady over there is about thirty seconds from calling psych, okay?” He tugged her

toward the exit, walking behind her so the rest of the hospital didn’t see what God had given her and trying his hardest not to stare himself.

She glared up at him, “Don’t call me sweetheart. You only call Baby that. Or when you’re being con...conde...condensation.”

Dean bit back a smile, “Yea, you’re right, I’m sorry. I’m not...um...I’m not trying to be condensation.” He guided her through the doors to where Sam was waiting, then opened the back door of the Impala and slid in next to her.

Sam looked back at them, concern etched on his face, “Dean, she really needs to stay here...look at her.”

Y/N had fallen into his side, her face flushed and sweaty, and was already beginning to fall asleep.

“I know, but she was causing a bit of a scene. Let’s just get her home, and one of us will go out for a medicine run. It’ll be fine.” Sam sighed, but turned around and pulled the car away from the hospital despite his better judgement. Dean glanced down at Y/N as she wrapped her arm around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine,” he whispered against her hair, then put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her tighter against him.

“Y/N, you've got to lay down, you need rest.” Dean said as he tried to coax her back to bed.

“I’m uncomfortable!” she whined as she swatted at him weakly.

“I know, but Sam will be back with medicine soon and we’ll get you settled in.” Dean brushed the hair out of her eyes, frowning as he felt how hot she still was.

“That's not why I'm uncomfortable, it's this bed.” She flopped onto her side, then rolled back over. “It's not squishy, and it doesn't remember me.” She sat up suddenly, her eyes wide. “I wanna be in your bed. It's got memory foam!”

“I...ummm...well, it's not going to remember you, either. You...you’ve never been in it,” he stuttered.

“I've been in it! We had movie night that one time. It'll remember. Please, Dean?” she pouted at him again and he sighed.

“Fine. But only if you let me carry you down there and you promise you'll stay put.”

She smiled and Dean realized that he'd do anything to get her to smile like that again. “Sure thing, Dean bean. Pinky promise.” She held her pinky up and looped it around his.

“Alright then, come on.” He hooked one arm around her waist and the other under her knees, and she sighed happily as she nuzzled against his shoulder. Dean’s heart sped up at how natural it felt to hold her like this, and how perfectly she fit against him. He made his way down the hall and to his room, where he sat her gently on the floor. “You good?” he asked before releasing his grip on her elbow.

“Yup, perfect.” She watched silently as he folded down the comforter and sheets, then fluffed the pillows so that she could see the television and still be comfortable.

“In you go, kid.” He held the blankets back as she climbed into bed, then pulled them up around her. Once she was settled, he walked over to the sink and grabbed a washcloth which he dampened, then walked back to her. “Here, this might help you feel better. Cool towels always helped with Sam when we were kids.” He swiped it gently across her forehead and she sighed happily.

“That does feel nice,” she sighed.

He smiled and laid it on the nightstand, then handed her the remote, “Pick out whatever you want.” He moved to sit in the chair next to the bed but stopped when he felt her hand slip into his.

“Will you lay here with me?” Dean thought about saying no, wanted to because he knew what would happen if he said yes, but the moment he looked into her wide eyes, his resolve broke.

“Yea...umm...sure, I'll lay with you.” He laid on the outside of the comforter, but she snuggled into him anyway and began flipping through his Netflix list. He slipped his arm around her, and before she was able to pick anything to watch, she fell fast asleep. Dean thought about sliding out from under her, but as she gripped tightly to his shirt, he found that he didn't want to. Instead, he picked out a random show, leaned his head back, and let himself doze off to the low murmur of the television and the warmth of Y/N at his side.

Sam quietly stood in the doorway to Dean’s room, a smile playing on his lips as he watched Y/N and his brother sleep. They’d been dancing around their feelings for weeks, and though he was sure part of the reason for their behavior today was because Y/N had been under the influence of her fever, Sam hoped that this finally got them to realize how they actually felt. He thought about letting them sleep, but Y/N still looked flushed and medicating her finally outweighed letting them both sleep.

He walked over and gently shook Dean’s shoulder, “Dean, wake up. I've got medicine.” Dean’s eyes slowly opened and he groaned as he shifted out from under Y/N.

“I didn't mean to fall asleep.” Dean looked over at Y/N and sighed, “I hate to wake her up, man.”

“I know, but she needs this.” Sam laid the back of his hand against her forehead, “She's not as hot, but she's still got a fever.” He picked up the cool washcloth and ran it across her forehead again, moving her sweat damp hair out of her face. “Hey, Y/N...I've got medicine for you. C’mon, wake up.”

Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled lazily when she saw Sam, “Hullllooooo, Samuel. Lookit you, bein’ all tall. What brings you to my room at this time of night?” She gasped, “What if Dean saw you in here? He'd wonder if there's shenanigans. He can't think there are shenanigans, or he won't love me.” Her eyes began to shine with unshed tears and Sam didn't know whether to laugh or be concerned.

“I don't think you need to worry about that, does she Dean?” Sam raised an eyebrow and Dean shook his head.

“Nope, there's no need to worry. Sam’s just here to give you medicine, and then you can go back to sleep.” He was trying not to think of what she'd said; why would it matter if he loved her or not? He watched as Sam pulled out a couple of bottles and helped her take the medicine she needed, then gathered up his supplies and made his way to the door.

“I'll be in the library, I've got some research to do. Let me know if you need anything.” He walked out and Dean shifted as if to follow.

“Will you stay?” Y/N asked quietly. “I sleep better with you here.”

Dean nodded, then resumed his position by Y/N’s side, “Sure thing, kid. Whatever you want.”

She settled back in and quickly fell back to sleep. Dean watched as her chest rose and fell slowly, and without thinking, linked his fingers through hers. He wasn't sure if it was just the fever talking or if she really wanted him, but in the moment, it didn't really matter. He turned his attention to the television and smiled when he felt her fingers tighten around his.

Y/N woke slowly, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. The television was on and the ‘Are you still watching?’ message glowed dully. She realized she was leaning into someone, and looked up to see Dean, his head tilted back against the pillows and his mouth partially open, his light snores the only sound in the room.

She shifted so that she was more upright and realized she wasn't in her room, but Dean’s.

“What the hell?” she croaked quietly, but it was enough to jerk Dean awake.

“What? What's wrong?” he looked around, his eyes wide and alert, then immediately calmed down when he realized Y/N was awake. “Oh, hey, you're up.”

“Yea...but why am I in your room?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to remember the chain of events that led from this morning to now.

Dean cleared his throat, “Because...well, you wanted memory foam...you said it remembers you.”

“Why does it need to remember me?” She looked down and for the first time, realized they were holding hands. “Oh...ooohhh…what did I say?” Although she seemed embarrassed, Dean felt a flicker of hope when she didn't pull her hand from his.

“Not much...although you were very concerned that if I caught Sam in here, I wouldn't love you,” he said with a small smile.

She groaned and let her head fall back, her eyes closed, “Well, that's embarrassing.”

“Nah, it was cute.” They fell silent, and Dean wondered if he should push his luck. He decided it was worth a shot. “So...umm...do you really care if I...I love you or not?”

She rolled her head so that she could look at him and raised an eyebrow, “Do you want me to care?”

He shrugged, “I mean, I...you don't have to...it doesn't matter. Forget I asked.”

“Well, if I didn't think you'd get the plague, I'd kiss you right now...if that answers your question.”

He smiled at her, then leaned over and kissed her forehead. “I guess that will have to do for now. Good news is, it seems like your fever might be gone.”

Y/N smiled back, then resumed her position tucked into Dean’s side, “I suppose that means I can properly answer you later.”

Dean chuckled, “Sounds like a plan, kid. Sounds like a plan.”

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[grimmseye]

Home Is By Your Side

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou 

Characters: Kirishima Eijirou, Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima’s Mothers (OCs)

Other tags: Hurt/Comfort, Bedsharing, Bakugou Family Dynamics, Showering Together, Nonsexual Nudity, Nonsexual Intimacy

For the anon that’s been messaging me. Sorry I didn’t answer your ask last night, I was writing this :3c

— — — —

In Bakugou’s defense, Kirishima had told him multiple times that he was always welcome in his home. His mothers had echoed the sentiment, and really people shouldn’t say anything unless they were expecting to be held to their word — which they were. They just weren’t thinking Bakugou would take them up on their offer so late at night.

Admittedly, it wasn’t atrociously late, like past midnight. More around 10pm, which, while still too late to be socially acceptable, at least wasn’t so bad as to immediately alarm anyone. But still, it was a shock. He was just there. Standing in the doorway, wrapped up in a coat with his hands stuffed in his pockets and his face turned down into his collar.

Kirishima Akane, a lithe woman with long, dark hair, was the one that opened the door. She blinked down at the boy, then glanced back at her son, seated in the living room. “Eijirou…?” She asked.

“Ummm,” he started as he got up, unsure if he should be confused or concerned. “I wasn’t expecting — Bakugou?” His mom stepped aside to let him handle it, giving them a respectful distance while still remaining in earshot. “What’s up? You didn’t call, did you?”

Bakugou’s eyes lifted. The fact that he hadn’t been meeting Kirishima’s gaze in the first place made him worry his lower lip. “Forgot my phone,” he said, voice gruff. “I need a place to stay the night. If you can’t, it’s fine, I’ll find someplace else.”

Kirishima’s eyes widened, blurting, “No, no, of course you can — mom?” His eyes were huge and pleading.Akane put a hand on his shoulder. “Of course you can stay, Katsuki. It’s freezing out there, come inside.”

They shuffled back, letting Bakugou tromp inside with a mumble of thanks. Kirishima reached to take his bag, only raising his eyebrows when Bakugou first tried to jerk it away from him. Relinquishing the bag, Bakugou stooped down to undo his boots.

“Let me go tell Keiko you’re here,” Akane said, excusing herself for the moment as she disappeared upstairs.

Kirishima turned his head, giving Bakugou a small grin. “You’ve never stayed the night before,” he commented, beckoning for him to follow him up the stairs. “Man, it’s been years since I’ve had a sleepover! Dorms don’t count.”

Bakugou grunted. Which was… something. It didn’t make him feel any better, the quiet unnerving coming from him.

Kirishima dropped the duffel bag just inside his room. It wasn’t heavy, despite looking like it was stuffed full. With clothes was his best guess, judging by the dull noise it made when it hit the floor. “Ah, we don’t really have a spare bed,” Kirishima mentioned, scratching at his neck. “You okay with sharing?”

Bakugou’s jaw tightened. “I can sleep on the floor,” he mumbled.

“I mean you can but then by good host laws I’m gonna have to as well.” Kirishima rolled his eyes. “Options, man. You take the bed and I sleep on the floor, we both sleep on the floor, or we share the bed. But my moms are gonna think I’m some kind of a hooligan if I don’t let our guest have a bed.” He grinned, not quite seeing where Bakugou’s sudden reservations were coming from. His bed was more than large enough for two. And, it wasn’t like it would be the first time they’d shared.  

Bakugou didn’t seem to share his humor, though, his brow only knitting tighter. “Yeah, but I’m not exactly a fucking guest, am I?” He grimaced. “That sure as hell isn’t what I’d call some dickbag barging in at fucking — ten thirty at night.”

Bakugou was a funny guy, Kirishima mused. He had no trouble cussing at strangers, but god forbid he intrude in another person’s house. It wasn’t an intrusion, of course. “I mean yeah,” he agreed amiably, “but that doesn’t apply to you, man. You’re always welcome here.”

It got a proper reaction out of him at last, Bakugou ducking his head and glaring at Kirishima like he was trying to bore holes in his forehead with just his eyes. Kirishima knew the to mean I don’t know how to handle affection so I’m just going to pretend to be tough and ignore it. Probably not in quite so many words. More cursing, definitely. But some amount of creative liberties were required when translating Bakugou for the masses.

There was a rap on the doorframe, and both boys looked up. Kirishima smiled at his ma, Bakugou giving a jerky nod of greeting.

Keiko was an opposite to her wife in nearly every way: tall where Akane was short, broad where she was slim, her hair cropped and dyed the same brilliant red as Eijirou’s. “Nice to see you, Katsuki,” she greeted, flashing an enormous grin. “You eaten yet?”

And while most were thrown by the sight of Kirishima’s ma, Bakugou didn’t even bat an eye. Maybe it was because his own household was just as unorthodox, though less in aesthetic and more in mannerisms. “No,” he admitted.

“Well we’ve got gyudon,” she offered. “It hurts my pride as a chef to give you leftovers, but unfortunately we need to go shopping.”

“We,” Kirishima repeated, dubious. Because, as the main cook in the household, it was his ma’s job to do the grocery shopping.

“Just for that, boy, I’m sending you on the next trip.” She wagged a finger at him. “You’re lugging all those heavy groceries from the store to here on your own.”

“I could do it,” he pointed out.

She nodded solemnly. “I know you could, and I’m proud.”

Kirishima’s drawn out, “Maaaa,” was more for show than any real embarrassment. He’d never felt ashamed of his mothers’ affection, and never planned to be.

Bakugou was quiet through the entire exchange. Kirishima sent him a curious glance — this was typically his cue to deliver some kind of an insincere jab or start groaning about how much sappiness he could bear before wanting to explode his own skull. There was nothing. Just this silent flicker of his eyes, between Kirishima and his ma.

“Well, I could do with some leftovers,” Kirishima chimed in, which was a partial truth. He wasn’t really all that hungry, but he also knew Bakugou wouldn’t accept anything without prompting. “C’mon, Bakugou, we just made it today so it’s still pretty fresh!”

Akane and Keiko didn’t eat, but joined them at the table. Kirishima only warmed a small portion for himself, the rest scraped into a bowl for Bakugou. He set both bowls down, sliding into the chair beside Bakugou’s. Bakugou didn’t move, though.

Kirishima gave him a curious glance. Bakugou avoided his gaze, head turning subtly away.

“Katsuki?” Akane prompted.

Beneath the table, Kirishima saw Bakugou’s nails digging into his leg. He took his hand without a word, feeling him first tense and then grip back as though Kirishima were a lifeline out at sea. “Aren’t any of you going to ask?” He demanded, his head turning between the three of them.

“Ask you what now?” Keiko cocked her head, though Kirishima knew she, and everybody else at the table, knew exactly what Bakugou was talking about.

“Why I’m here?” He gritted his teeth. “Why I showed up at ten-fucking-thirty at night?”

“Do you want to tell us?” Akane asked, a genuine question. “Of course we’re wondering, Katsuki, but it’s up to you if you want us to know.”

Beneath the table, Kirishima thumbed over the back of Bakugou’s palm. His heart twisted at the look on Bakugou’s face, at the curl of his mouth that looked like anger but sounded like grief. If he could, if Bakugou would let him, he would press against him and into him and wind so completely around him that he wouldn’t have to be afraid of anyone seeing him break.

For now he could hold his hand, and smooth the tremors from his fingers.

Bakugou swallowed. It was easier for him when he was told to do something — then it was only a matter of obey or rebel. When offered a choice, a froze.

“I got in a fight with my mom,” He started, haltingly. “And she kicked me out.”

It wasn’t surprising. Still, Kirishima closed his eyes, wishing for the life of him he could say otherwise. But he’d met the Bakugou family, protective and loving and destructive they all were. Bakugou was a smaller, more volatile version of his mother and when both of their fuses were lit, it left nothing but chaos behind.

He wasn’t sure how to feel, knowing that Bakugou traveled to his house, just betting on the belief they’d take him in. It wasn’t a terrible trip from the Shizuoka prefecture to Chiba, but two and a half hours covered a lot of land by train. He was a long way from home.

Akane let out a small sigh, reaching to set her hand on Keiko’s arm as the woman began to bristle. Kirishima knew his ma to be far more exuberant in her emotions than his mom, and the pinching of her expression suggested an outburst that wouldn’t be well received at the moment. “Well, Katsuki, you can stay with us as long as you need, alright? But I will have to call Mitsuki. I’m sure she’s worried sick right now.”

Bakugou gave a scornful growl. It got him a warning look from Akane but little else as she excused herself into the next room, phone in hand.

Keiko regarded him for a moment. “I’m glad you came here, kiddo,” she said at last. Grinning, she added, “Eijirou wouldn’t stop talking about you. Maybe now we’ll get some peace and —”

“Ma, please,” Kirishima groaned, pushing his face into his free hand.

A small noise left Bakugou. A laugh, he realized, quiet and raspy but undoubtedly a laugh. Kirishima straightened up and beamed.

“I need a camera,” Keiko murmured to herself, patting her pockets down. Kirishima hurriedly stuffed his mouth with food, and motioned for Bakugou to do the same.

Late as it was, his mothers allowed them to just put the bowls in the sink for the night. “We have extra toothbrushes,” Keiko told Bakugou, before they went upstairs. “Eiji always goes through them too quickly.”

“Guess he would, with those freaky fucking shark teeth,” Bakugou snorted. Kirishima only clicked them at him, lips pulled back to show off both rows, and broke into guffaws when Bakugou’s eyes widened and he looked away. His grin died when he remembered his ma, who was staring at them with both her eyebrows raised.

“...Leave the door open, Eijirou.”

“Ma!”

They did not leave the door open, Kirishima’s ears burning as he listened to his ma sniggering outside the door. “God,” he groaned, “I love them but. Why?”

“I’d trade you.” Bakugou’s face was vicious. He dropped onto Kirishima’s bed, jaw working. “I wouldn’t mind saying good fucking riddance to mine.”

Kirishima blinked slowly at him, then approached with a small sigh, lowering himself down beside Bakugou. Their arms touched. “You don’t mean that,” he said.

“Wanna fucking bet?” There was venom in Bakugou’s voice, the kind that made your blood boil in your veins. “That old hag kicking me out like I’m some stray that pissed on the carpet too much. I’ll fucking —”

— kill her he didn’t say, his mouth twisting closed on the words. Bakugou just snarled, explosions popping in his hands and smoke billowing between his fingers. “I can’t fucking believe her,” he hissed instead.

It was surprisingly truthful. That was what made his words spit with hatred. Betrayal was a pill that burned all the way down and left bitterness heavy on the tongue. Kirishima knew that Bakugou didn’t always get along with his parents, that as obvious as his love for them was he didn’t always have patience with his father, or checked his temper with his mother. And sometimes it was the other way around, Mitsuki making an offhand remark about her son that left Kirishima faltering, the idea of his own mothers voicing the same words about him curdling in his gut. Masaru did not make these comments quite so often, but he listened to his wife when she did, and never spoke up in his son’s defense.

Kirishima liked the Bakugous, but sometimes he wondered if they knew the effect of their own words.

“Hey, Bakugou,” he started, waiting for his red eyes to turn to meet his own. “Have you tried talking with your parents about this stuff? Like, how you’re feeling, and why.”

He sneered. “There’s no fancy reason why, shitty-hair. It’s just who I fucking am. A good for nothing son, as the hag said.”

Kirishima frowned at him, tentatively putting a hand on his leg and leaning closer into his space. “I don’t think that’s true. I mean, you’re shouty and blasty, yeah, but you’re not like mean. Not anymore,” he amended, when Bakugou gave him a flat look. “It’s been awhile since you’ve really gotten in a fight with anyone — even Midoriya.”

Bringing him up was a leap of faith. Bakugou stiffened, but Kirishima held fast, watching him as he took a breath and unwound. When he did, a proud grin crossed his face. “See that? Last year you would have started exploding things, man!” He sobered. “So, what’s different with your parents?”

Bakugou stared at the wall. His shoulders rose visibly with each breath, a sharp inhale, a heavy exhale. Kirishima turned his head by his jaw, murmuring, “Katsuki…”

“I can’t do anything right by her,” he rumbled at last. His voice was scratchy and rough. “No matter what I fucking do. My grades — my license — my quirk — nothing. You fucking breathe and your moms fall over themselves with how fucking proud they are of you, it’s disgusting.” Bakugou jerked away from him, turning his glare on Kirishima. His lips peeled back, teeth flashing.

Kirishima’s expression flattened. “Don’t take it out on me,” he told him, scolding but gently so.

And Bakugou’s crumpled. His brow was a mess of wrinkles, eyes squinting, teeth bared. He covered his eyes with one hand, spitting out a quaking, “Fuck.” It wasn’t a proper apology, but Kirishima would let it slide tonight. He shifted closer again, ignoring Bakugou’s show of trying to shove him away to wrap his arm around him.

“It’s okay,” he soothed. Bakugou grasped at his hips, his nails digging into the material of his shirt.

“I had those fucking dreams again,” Bakugou said, voice still tight with barely-restrained emotion. “And I blew up my damn bed, and she thought — fuck I don’t know what she thought but she was fucking pissed — she —” He choked. Trembled.

“Does she know about your dreams?” Kirishima asked.

His silence was answer enough.

“You have to talk to her, man,” he sighed. “About a lot of things.” He moved himself into Bakugou’s lap, once again ignoring the protesting rumbles as he embraced him from the front. His hair was soft, tickling Kirishima’s chin as he rested it atop Bakugou’s head. “But not now, okay? Let’s get some sleep.”

Bakugou gave up any act of rejecting him. He slumped against Kirishima, turning his face into his neck. And then, all at once, he was clinging to him, muffling sobs behind clenched teeth and wetness touching Kirishima’s skin. A coo left him, mournful and aching for Bakugou, pushing fingers through his hair. His own throat felt tight. He didn’t try to hold back his own tears.

Kirishima didn’t consider pulling away until Bakugou did. His face was blotchy red, eyes swollen, cheeks and nose wet. His expression pinched at the sight of Kirishima. “Why the fuck are you crying?” he demanded, but the effect was lost when he hiccuped.

“Cause you are!” Kirishima burst into giggles, breath hitching between them. “C-come on, man, you know that I c-cry when you cry.” He smeared his tears away with the palm of his hand. Sympathetic crying had to be a trait he got from his mom. “A-anyway. We should p-probably shower? I think I’ve got snot on my neck.”

Bakugou recoiled, which only sent Kirishima into another fit of laughter. “I’ll fucking kill you,” he hissed, but it meant I’m-fucking-mortified.

Kirishima waved it off. “C’mon. Shower.” He slid off Bakugou’s lap, taking his hands to pull him off the bed.

“Together?” He asked, while they padded to the bathroom.

He hadn’t actually been planning that, but once it was suggested, found no reason to argue. “Why not?” Kirishima pulled a pair of towels out of a cabinet.

“There are a shit ton of reasons, idiot.”

Kirishima puffed and waved a hand. “Dude. They’re just bodies. We’re not having sex. Let’s take a shower.”

And maybe Bakugou didn’t really care, or maybe he was too tired to argue, because he shrugged and started to undress. Kirishima turned the water on before following suit.

He had Bakugou stand under the spray first, kneading his palms over the muscle that he knew would be wound tighter than a spring. Slowly, under Kirishima’s ministrations, Bakugou began to relax. His posture eased, shoulders slumping, head lolling forward. A small noise left him, almost lost to the rattle of the shower spray, when Kirishima rubbed just above his shoulderblades.

Bakugou never really left himself vulnerable, but this was the closest thing. His guard was down, and Kirishima was able to step past it and marvel at what laid underneath.

When it was Kirishima’s turn, Bakugou washed his hair for him. The stroke of his fingers was pleasant, prickling all down his spine. He turned to rinse, found Bakugou gazing at him. Even after the wash, his eyes were still bloodshot. Kirishima was leaning forward before Bakugou even reached for him.

Cupping his face with both hands, Bakugou kissed him hard. Kissing Bakugou was still new, but Bakugou himself was as familiar as home. He was so closed-off to the world, bound in so many layers that when he opened himself to feel it was always so raw. Joy or misery or the fury that once encompassed him were all-consuming and laced his every breath. Tonight his lips tasted like gratitude.

Maybe, if he was hopeful, Kirishima would say love. But he didn’t really know what this was, what any of this was. If asked, he could describe Bakugou in a million ways, but ‘best friend’ or ‘partner’ would be the first to come to his lips.

They parted slow, Kirishima leaning in for another, final kiss before shutting off the water. Together they clambered out, wrapped themselves in their towels, and returned to his room.

Bakugou slept shirtless. Kirishima slept pantless. Together they made a functional set of pajamas, which was all that was required for a single bed.

Bakugou curled around him from behind, face leaned against his back. They’d untangle in the night. Bakugou would probably steal the blankets, and Kirishima would probably stretch out across the whole bed. They’d shared beds before, and knew how it went, because while there were a lot of unknowns regarding Kirishima and Bakugou — what they were to each other, and how such opposites could ever come to form two halves of a whole — it was a well known fact that they both slept better with the other by their side.

[221bshrlocked]

You and I (2)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 3743

Warnings: Smut. Some angst...and NSFW gifs.

Summary: You broke up with your boyfriend and you try to distract yourself by listening to loud music and cleaning your room. Bucky lives on the same floor as you and hears the music. Curiosity gets the best of him.

A/N: Message me if you want to be tagged in anything. Let me know how my writing is pleaaaaaase

Tagging: @imgettingmarriedtobuckybarnes

Permanent Tag List:  @meganlane84 @mizzzpink @bringmetheemobands @kimistry27 @fireandicewillsuffice @vacam79 @amrita31199 @badassbaker

Previous Part

Sunrays came through the blinds of the window, making you shift and feel a solid body wrapped around you. Bucky’s arm draped over your body, his legs locking you in even more. You tried to move but there was no way you were getting out of his death grip right now.

“What’re you a fucking koala?” You whispered so you don’t wake him up. Then you couldn’t help but laugh because Bucky was basically a giant koala if you really thought about it.

“I’m a fucking nightmare doll. Not a koala. Koala’s can’t hurt you.” He groaned in his sleep, causing you to shake from laughter even more.

“You clearly don’t watch National Geographic. Koalas can b-”

He didn’t let you finish, laying lazy kissed on your neck. He noticed your reaction when he kissed behind your ears and kept doing it until you felt like jelly under him.

You turned around and looked at him.

“Seriously? It’s like waking up next to Ares or something. How do you look like that right after last night?”

You kept on complaining and huffing because you couldn’t tell if that was his sex hair or just his normal waking up hair.

“Really Y/N? You’re the one to talk. You look like-”

“Don’t say Aphrodite because I swear I know you’re lying.” You both started laughing.

“No I was going to say Hera but hey, Aphrodite works too.” His hands were roaming up and down your body.

“What? I’m not a raging bitch who hurts anyone her husband sleeps with!”

You both realized the mood switch and you hated yourself for making it awkward. He grabbed you closer, laying your head on his chest.

“Listen. What he did was unforgivable. Okay? It wasn’t your fault.”

“Well obviously it must have been considering I probably wasn’t good enough for him.”

“Y/N stop. Look at me.” When you didn’t, he grabbed your chin.

“You are perfect in every way. Every god damn way. And if he didn’t see that, then he’s a fucking moron.”

“Ok.”

“Okay good. Now that that’s out of the way, we need to get ready. Steve is going have my ass if I’m late to training.”

“Wait how am I supposed to get out?”

“Ummm through the door?”

“Y-you’re okay with me just w-walking out right now?”

“Shit there it goes again.” He kissed your head and grabbed your hand, getting you out of bed.

Grabbing you to make you stand in front of the mirror, you covered yourself, suddenly feeling naked.

“Doll. Don’t please. I need you to look at yourself. I was serious last night. I really like you and I want to give us a shot. If last night was just a quick fuck so you can get over that asshole, I totally get it and we can forget this ever happened. But if it wasn’t, I’d love to take you out on a date, go dancin’ maybe, go to the beach. You owe me nothing alright!”

You didn’t know when you started crying. You turned around to kiss him but he stepped back.

“Nuh huh we both have morning breath. Get your sexy ass in my bathroom so we can get ready.”

You smacked his shoulder while you were walking and he smacked your ass right after.

You got ready and made your way to the kitchen, a smile plastered on both of your faces.

Everyone took one look at you, and then they started exchanging bills.

“What’s going on?” You asked while getting something to eat.

“Nothing apart from me winning $300 right now.”

“Wait what?” Bucky looked at Sam then at Steve.

“Well I was telling them the both of you were going to get together eventually and they said no way...apart from Romanoff of course since we’re the only geniuses in this building.”

“You guys bet on us?” You looked at everyone and blushed.

“It was getting annoying Y/N. All the sexual tension between the two of you. It was bound to happen.”

“Believe me, I’m so glad it did.” Bucky kissed your cheek before walking out with Steve to the training room.

“Are we going to have to deal with this now?”

“Hell ya you are. You bet on us remember?” You grabbed a water bottle and went for a run.

The rest of the day went by quick, with you sparring with Nat and licking your lips every time your eyes laid on Bucky and the weights he was lifting.

 Bam.

 This was the third time Natasha kicked you on your back.

 “Seriously Y/N? It’s like you’re not even trying.”

 “Sorry I’m just-”

 “Distracted? Ya we noticed. Bucky over there almost killed me with the weights.” Steve walked behind you to get his water bottle.

 “Sorry I know it’s just the first day. I swear this won’t happen again.” You felt horrible and both Steve and Natasha noticed.

 “It’s alright. Just get it out of your systems and come back tomorrow.”Steve spoke a little louder to get Bucky’s attention.

 You nodded and left with Natasha.

 “So what changed all of a sudden? Wasn’t it last weekend that you spent with what’s his face?”

 “Why does everyone forget his name?” You shook your head and grabbed something to eat with her.

“Didn’t care to be honest. I was surprised you were still going out with him. Tell me”

“He cheated on me.”

“He didn’t.”

“Yup.”

“Where does he live?” Natasha got up all of a sudden and put a jacket on, asking FRIDAY to prepare a car for her.

“Omygod NATasha what the hell wait-”

“No he needs to learn a lesson!”

“Just fucking wait will you? He’s going to learn his lesson soon...tonight actually.” You made sure she wasn’t going anywhere before you sat down again.

“Are you going to make Bucky beat him up? I wanna watch!”

“Jesus the hell is wrong with you? No I won’t make anyone beat him up. I’m simply going to show him what he’s missing out on.”

“How?”

“Bucky and I are going to the nightclub tonight.”

“Ooooo I like that idea!” She was about to walk out when you stopped her again.

“Now where’re you going?”

“It’s about time we all took a break. Nothing juicier than watching some asshole get what he deserves. I’ll tell everyone to get ready.”

“O my god seriously?”

“Yes. Besides, it was about time we all hung out together.”

“Fine.”

 You finished your food and went to take a shower. When you walked out with nothing but a towel wrapped around you, you jumped when you heard the wiring noises of a machine. Looking around, you saw Bucky was laying on your bed, his mouth wide open and his eyes taking you in.

 “God you scared the shit out of me.”

 “Sorry doll. I just came to see when you’ll be ready. But damn I got so much more.” He smirked and you blushed.

 “Can you leave so I can change?”

 “Really?”

“What?”

“I had my dick buried deep in your tight little pussy yesterday and you want me to leave because you’re embarrassed.”

“No. I want you to leave so what I wear can be a surprise.”

“Can I at least pick out your lingerie?” He got up and walked towards you, playing with the top of your towel.

He was about to kiss you when you whispered to him. “Who said I’ll be wearing anything under my dress?”

He groaned and you enjoyed the reaction you got out of him.

“Now get out before we make everyone late.”

“Fine...but just so you know, I’m hurtin’ sugar. You can’t tell a man stuff like that then kick him out like a puppy.” He feigned a pained expression and put his hands over his heart.

“God you’re so dramatic.” You pushed him out and locked the door.

You looked through your dresses and remembered the one Wanda gave you as a gift. You never wore it before because it barely covered anything but you decided that it was now or never.

You could actually hit two birds with one stone. Make John jealous and make Bucky frustrated. Both good things.

You walked out and blushed when Natasha whistled at you. Steve blushed more than you and looked away, shaking his head at what Natasha and Sam did. Tony was practically drooling.

“Damn girl you’re sexy as hell. You sure you don’t wanna ditch that yeti over there for me?” He pointed at Bucky who just turned around and looked at you.

You looked up and instantly felt how wet you were. His smile faltered when he took your figure in. That dress left nothing to the imagination and hugged your curves perfectly.

“Alright out everyone let’s go. We don’t want to miss Jason getting jealous.” Tony yelled and motioned for everyone to walk out.

“His name is-”

“No one cares.” They all said at the same time and you laughed. It was just you and Bucky left

“Hey guys I’ll drive with Y/N alone. See you there.”

“Don’t do anything in my car Barnes or so help me God I’ll take back your arm.” Tony tried to look scary but Bucky just gave him the death stare, making him run away.

“Don’t worry I won’t let him.” You winked at Tony and he walked out.

You felt so self conscious under his gaze. It was too direct.

“D-do you l-like it?” You refused to look at him.

“Like it? Doll I fucking love it. There is nothing I want more than to rip it off right now-”

“Don’t you dare it was a gift. Wanda will kill me.”

“I gotta thank her then.” He trailed his arms up and down your figure.

“A-are you wearing any panties?” His eyes barely had any blue in them and you were trying to alleviate the pain between your thighs by rubbing them.

“No.”

“Good girl. Easy access then.” He grabbed your hand and walked out with you.

“What’ya mean easy access?”

“You’ll see soon sugar.” He winked at you and you felt like a schoolgirl, giggling all the way down to the parking lot.

20 minutes later and you walked into the club, wincing at how loud the music was. Bucky spotted where everyone was and placed his hand behind your back.

“Fuck.”

“What what?” You thought something happened.

“I just realized that there is no back to this thing.”

“Is that okay?”

“Stop asking that Y/N. It’s very hard to not fuck you in front of everyone right now. Actin all innocent will just speed up the process.” He playfully swatted your ass and you laughed again. Guiding you through the crowd, you sat next to Steve and started talking.

A couple of drinks later, you were on the dance floor with Natasha and Sam. You told Bucky that to make this work, he can only come to dance with you once John comes, which Bucky didn’t like, considering he wanted to be as close to you as possible at all times.

The song switched and you looked at Natasha, smiling and yelling at the top of your lungs once Shakira’s Chantaje came on. Natasha was sandwiched between you and Sam, humped by the both of you. You looked at Bucky and saw his jaw tense.

Boy was he angry. And it was sure going to pay off after.

You licked your lips and put Natasha’s hands on your waist. She obliged and figured out what you were doing. The song finished and everyone was sweaty but you loved it.

Sam said he was going to leave before Bucky punched a hole in him and you giggled with Natasha. Your laugh abruptly stopped however when you saw John walking in with a girl. You sensed Natasha tensing and held her back, silently telling her to just not do anything.

“You know what to do Nat.” She walked to the DJ and requested a song. He was a friend of Tony’s and put it on. You turned around and saw Bucky realizing what song it was. He stood up and was next to you in a matter of seconds, his hands roaming all over your body at the same time.

“Fucking finally.” He grabbed your neck and crashed his lips on yours. The kiss was so hungry, making your knees weak.

“I got you baby.”

You turned around and backed up into his chest, grabbing his hands and placing them on your hips.

The song was still starting and you ground your hips closer to his crotch. Grabbing his hair, you pulled his head closer to your neck and he started biting you. You moaned and knew he heard you when you felt his chest vibrate from growling with approval.

Nothing left for me to say There's no more wicked games to play It's time for me to walk away I am alright

 I feel like I'm on a high A new beginning that is my life I'm turning to the rhythm of the night I am alright

You started mouthing the words the second John looked at you. You maintained eye contact the entire time you were dancing with Bucky’s hands grabbing your breasts occasionally.

The music is making me grow and The only thing that keeps me awake is me knowing There's no one here to break me or bring me down And no one here to hurt me or fool around

I have no more time for you to hurt my feelings Done enough to prove I'm all that I believe in We are at the end, no more stupid lies I'm better off without you here by my side

You shut your eyes to enjoy Bucky’s ministrations, loving how heavy his hands felt on you.

So now there is no longer you and I, you and I You and I, you and I You and I, you and I You and I

There is no longer you and I, you and I You and I, you and I You and I, you and I You and I

You opened your eyes again and saw how John was looking at you, relishing the confidence Bucky gave you just by his presence.

Don't care what other people say I know you fool around all day Now it doesn't hurt me anyway I am alright

And when the day turns into night I'm in the club forgetting you and I And when I think of how you treated me You proved me right

You gasped when you felt Bucky’s metal hand slither under your cloth and grab your breast. Giggling and pushing your ass into him more, you turned around and gave him a kiss that you would never forget in your life.

The music is making me grow and The only thing that keeps me awake is me knowing There's no one here to break me or bring me down And no one here to hurt me or fool around

I have no more time for you to hurt my feelings Done enough to prove I'm all that I believe in We are at the end, no more stupid lies I'm better off without you here by my side

So now there is no longer you and I, you and I You and I, you and I You and I, you and I You and I

Bucky turned you around and pushed you into him. You gasped once he parted your legs with his thigh.

“I love you Y/N. And I’m sorry it took me so long and you gettin hurt to realize.”

You kissed him and loved how his arms felt around your back.

“I love you too James.”

The song was ending and you were still moving with Bucky. Being in his arms felt so right and you loved it. The song ended and you walked to the bar. Bucky ordered drinks and told you he was coming right back.

You felt an arm around you and smiled. But when you turned around, you felt chills all over your skin.

“The fuck do you want?” You turned around again and grabbed the drinks.

“I love that dress on you sexy. Would look even better on my floor.”

“As if!?” You raised your eyebrows in disgust.

“Well you had no problem practically having sex with that guy.”

“Ya...that’s cuz he isn’t you.”

“Come on I apologized already. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want me back.” He started grabbing you harder and licking his lips.

“Get off of me before I make you John. Or before someone else does. And I don’t guarantee you’ll be conscious if he does.”

“Come on Y/N let’s get outta here. I’ll make you feel so good. Like I always do.”

“Pfft you actually think you ever made me feel good. John you can’t be that stupid. You never made me orgasm.”

“Listen bitch. Either come with me quietly or you’ll regret it.” He grabbed your arm and squeezed hard.

“GET OFF ME JOHN!” You tried to pull away but the heels weren’t helping you.

“You probably were cheating with him on me weren’t you? Fucking whore I’ll show you how sluts like you get fucked. You’ll regre-”

He wasn’t able to finish. A metal arm grabbed his hair and pulled him backwards, making him fall on the floor.

“Hey asshole, when the lady says no, it means no.”

He got up quickly and tried to punch Bucky but failed...multiple times.

You tried to tell Bucky to not go any further but it was too late. Bucky punched him in the face, making him bleed instantly.

“She’s out of your league moron. Go fuck around somewhere else.”

“If you think she’s in yours then you’re delusional. Aren’t you a hundred years old.”

And it was like the straw that broke the camel’s back. You pushed Bucky out of your way, walked to John, punched him in the face, then kicked him in his gut, and when he fell over, your final blow was aimed at his crotch. He fell down, crying immediately from the pain of your heels kicking him.

“Like he said, go fuck around somewhere else dickhead.”

Steve and Sam came and asked you if everything was okay. By the time you turned around, Bucky was nowhere to be found.

“Fuck where did he go?”

You walked to Wanda and asked her to help you find him. She immediately sensed where he was and told you. He walked to the private rooms on the second floor.

You walked in and saw that he was pacing back and forth.

“James?”

“No Y/N. Get away from me.” He held out his hands.

“What’s wrong?” You were getting worried.

“Fuck why do you like me? I’m a century older than you...literally. Why are you with me?” He backed up and you sensed he was about to cry.

You stepped closer but he held his hands out again.

“B-because you’re Bucky Barnes. Because you’re the most gentleman I’ve ever met. Because no one ever cared about me as much as you do. Because you understand me and I feel safe in your arms. Because your touch makes me feel alive. Your lips feel like the universe on my skin. Because you love me with all my imperfections. You’re such a good man that I sometimes want nothing more than to repeat that constantly until you believe me. Because I fell in love with you the second I saw you and I don’t regret it. Because you’re the only right thing in this fucked up world. Because I feel like I can’t breathe when I’m not around you.” You were panting and saw his expression change.

You walked closer to him and he let you. You put your hands on his shoulders and kissed him on his cheek.

“Because I don’t know what I would do if anything happens to you.”

Your lips met his in a chaste kiss and you savored the heat radiating off of him. He slowly hugged you and kissed back. The kiss gradually became more intense and you were tugging at each other’s clothes. He turned you around and slipped the straps past your shoulders, nipping at your neck and massaging your breasts..

“James I need you. Please don’t tease.”

“As you wish.”

He turned you around and got on his knees, lifting your dress and attacking your cunt in an instant. You were trying to suppress your screams but he was relentless. He started fingering you, finding your g-spot in no time and making you come in a matter of seconds.

He stood up and unzipped his pants, rubbing his dick against your folds to get him wet. He slowly thrust in, relishing you tight you were and the look of pure bliss on your face.

“FUck doll you feel so good. So so good.” He kissed you to swallow your moans and set an agonizingly slow pace.

“God I love you Bucky I love you I love you I love you-”

You stared at each other while he was fucking in and out of you.

This was the most intimate moment you ever felt in your life.

Your breathing was hard and he was huffing, kissed your breasts and sucking on your nipples.

“I’m so close Y/N...come with me darlin’. Come with me.”

“Fuck James you feel amazing don’t stop.”

He slowed down even more, surprisingly making you come.

“I’m c-coming James sshit-”

You felt him come inside you and shivered when he was still thrusting and your juices dripped on your thighs.

You kissed again and he pulled out, smiling devilishly when he saw the state of undress and euphoria you were in.

He got a wet towel and cleaned the both of you.

“Come on dollface we gotta go.”

“Hmmm no I don’t want to move. Actually, I don’t think I can more right now.” You squealed when you felt yourself getting lifted up.

“Problem solved.”

“My hero.” You kissed his cheek and started to play with his hair.

“Unless you want to get fucked in front the team, I’d suggest you stop that right now.”

“What if I want to get fucked in front of everyone?” You whispered seductively in his ear.

“Ohhh you asked for it doll.”