#okay sap finished

[rhymeswithumbrella]

Here comes a sappy post just because it’s the end of the faith in the future world tour era. I am so incredibly happy and proud of louis. i think we have all seen him grow exponentially as an artist and thrive on stage. he really has become his own artist and a recognizable one at that. i cried several times tonight because of how emotional it all was. and how emotional HE was. he nearly cried several times and we all felt it in the crowd. the energy was insane. everything was vibrating. i’m so so happy and proud of everything he’s accomplished. what a fucking epic era. i can’t wait for the next one where he’s even more himself and even more free as an artist to be him. that’s all i ever want for him. i love you louis. thank you for the hell of a ride.

[morelikesin]

🐶 Y'know, I fall in love with you all over again when we go on dates like this, Max.

🐰 You're getting a pass for that awful pun because you're the prettiest thing this side a' the world, Sam.

🐶 What can I say? I'm as corny as Kansas in August.

🐰 And as normal as blueberry pie.

[kazamajun]

two of you I gotta admit are correct. alas. some (hopefully) good stuff under the cut tho. ⬇

"I was told you had died." Kazuya utters once his breathing evens out. A ridiculous notion, that she could have been slain by the same creature that had taken out other - in his eyes, inferior - martial artists. But, she had vanished without a trace and the boy genuinely believed her dead. Knowing Jun as he does, Kazuya was aware she would not voluntarily have left the boy alone; nor sent him to his own monster of a father had there been any alternative. Thus, he had accepted the news for truth and with no small measure of grief, albeit buried deep. Reconciling that with the fact that something he'd believed for seven years was actually untrue, has him more shaken than he'd care to admit now that the more immediate danger was over and there actually was time to process it all. His wings flare slightly with agitation.

"I almost did." Jun replies with an open honesty. Recalling the sensation of being close to death was far from pleasant, but divulging the memory is a necessity, she knows. "Calling upon the power here I defeated the ogre that attacked us, but it had fatally wounded me in turn. The voice of my ancestors guided me here to rest, and… this place kept me from death until I could heal. Protected me." As she elaborates, her hand raises from Kazuya's shoulder to lay along his cheek. Even armoured as it is with demonic cartilage, his bone structure is still familiar and the feel of him is soothing. She does not miss the way he ever so slightly tilts his head and leans in to the touch.

For Kazuya it is a strange thing to be cared about so openly. To have one so dedicated to you yet who asks for nothing in return. Even all these years later, Jun's first act had been for his welfare, and done without question. It causes an ache, tugging at that carefully compartmentalized sense of loss where all these years without her had resided. One of his hands comes to rest over the top of her one gracing his cheek, lingering there briefly before he gently lifts her hand away and presses a small kiss to her wrist in wordless response and acknowledgement of her selflessness.

[viiisenyas]

If my brain disrupts my plot with a new idea that changes the entire story ONE MORE TIME

[liminevator]

[We are aware of the current deficiencies with the current denizen file system and are currently busy working to improve them, with our file manager Eskobar overseeing the changes of course.]

[Update continues below.]

--

[One of these improvements is a letter ranking system to help better identify the potential risks your fellow denizens may pose to you or the lack thereof- remember, always be careful of who you trust.]

[This new letter ranking system is as follows]:

D-rank - D rated Denizens are effectively just your average joe schmoe, they don't usually have powers, and if they do they usually aren't offensive, or are simply so impractical theres very little ways if any to be harmful. A good example of a D-rank denizen would be ID #2200

C-rank - C rated Denizens are much similar to D-rank however the biggest difference is they do have substantial abilities that could be harmful in the wrong hands, but thankfully C-rank denizens are typically the example of powers "in the right hands" so-to-say. A good example of a C-rank denizen would be ID #0004

B-rank - B rated Denizens are basically the "middle of the road" tier. They aren't exactly harmless, but they're not exactly dangerous either, it's difficult to explain, essentially another you know it when you see it type of situation. A good example of a B-rank denizen would be ID #0325

A-rank - A rated Denizens are those whose scale is tilted a bit more into the dangerous direction, whether this violence is intentional or not they are known to be unstable and have outbursts that may result in serious injury or even death, it's not recommended to bother them if you can help it. A good example of an A-rank denizen would be ID #0115

S-rank - S rated denizens are few and far between, but are a force to be reckoned with nonetheless. They're violent, destructive, and disregard any attempts to stop such behavior, either finding it fun or necessary or for other reasons. The ways to handle them are different for each individual, remain wary and on your toes. A good example of an S-rank Denizen would be ID #1000

U-rank - "U rank" is a very seldom given title, often reserved solely for those with deific powers, or those who have fragmented (fragmentation is further indicated by a ☥ symbol by the name.) It is highly ill advised to seek out anybody with this label unless you absolutely know what you're doing, or are operating under my orders. A good example of a (non-fragmented) U-rank denizen would be ID #4444

[The rest of these improvements are more minor things, including but not limited to]:

- Changed "Distinct Marks" into "Distinct Traits" to reflect its current usage

- Slightly more detailed descriptions for Hair and Fur besides just the color

- New description section for a denizen's Skin where applicable

- Mr. CocoCoolatta is working on new art for some of the more "scuffed" files that "look like shit"- its words not mine

- For Phonians only, adding the "Song" category to properly document the tune of applicable denizen's phonoglands

- Touching up some files with more lackluster descriptions where necessary

- Removing unsavory edits made by... "third parties" that will only remain visible to higher ups in The Archive

- Urging Professor Radiant to change his password so these edits stay private

[And one final note, my apologies for the radio silence lately and lack of updates to our database, things have been busy in our facilities lately and it's gotten in the way of proper procedures around here. But not to worry, I assure you this is only temporary, we will be back on our feet soon enough, so long as I have anything to say about it.]

Sincerely, Doctor Rito Kusatta

[braidwoods]

pb i hope you know i will absolutely buy every single scene in bolas2 please dont lock the 30 diamond scenes to one li like in the first book

[lov3lycosmos]

Can you make aftercare with bangchan and fem reader please! Of course only if you want <3

Yes, of course! Thank you guys so much for all the requests!

⋆⑅˚₊ aftercare ₊˚⑅⋆

Warnings: MDNI, suggestive content, some kissing, some cursing, let me know if i missed any!

The world felt like it was still spinning, but in the best way possible. The remnants of shared moments hung in the air like the fading scent of perfume, warm and intoxicating. You lay nestled against Chan’s chest, your body pressed so close to his that it felt like you were both part of one another. His heartbeat, steady and rhythmic, thudded in your ear, grounding you.

Chan shifted slightly, his fingers absentmindedly tracing soothing circles on your back as if checking in with you, making sure you were still in one piece. His touch was tender but firm, the kind of touch that made you feel safe and cherished. “Feeling okay?” His voice was soft, laced with that quiet concern you were so used to hearing, yet it never failed to make your heart flutter.

You nodded, your cheek still resting on his chest. The lingering sensation of your time together hadn’t quite worn off yet, but you were comfortable. He always made sure you were comfortable. “Yeah,” you murmured, your voice still thick from the intimacy of it all. “Just... tired.”

A low chuckle escaped his lips, a sound that vibrated through his chest and directly into you. “I figured as much. You really gave me a run for my money,” he teased, his hand sliding up to cup the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair. You couldn’t help but laugh softly, burying your face into his chest. “Shut up.”

Chan’s grip tightened gently, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Nah, not a chance.” He paused, the teasing tone giving way to something softer. “I’m proud of you, though.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him. His eyes were soft, searching yours like he always did when he wanted to make sure you were okay. “For what?” you asked, voice a little less steady than you intended.

He smiled that warm, sincere smile that made your chest tighten. “For trusting me. For letting me take care of you,” he said, his voice low, steady. “You’re always so strong, but tonight, I saw you let go. And it made me proud.”

His words hit you in a way you didn’t expect. There was something in his tone—something raw and real—that made your heart swell. You weren’t used to hearing that kind of praise. Not like this.

You swallowed, feeling your cheeks warm. “You’re such a sap,” you muttered, looking down to hide the way your heart was beating a little faster than usual. Chan chuckled, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Maybe,” he admitted, “but only for you.”

You stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in the warmth of each other’s presence, the kind of silence that didn’t need words to be understood. But you knew he wouldn’t let you rest for long without taking care of you properly.

“I’ll be right back,” Chan murmured, carefully untangling himself from the sheets. “Stay put, okay?” You groaned softly, curling into the blankets. “Fine, but hurry up. I’m comfy.” He laughed quietly, a soft, affectionate sound. “I’ll be fast.”

When he returned, it wasn’t long before you felt him gently lifting your head to place a glass of water into your hands. “Drink,” he instructed softly, his voice tinged with that same caring authority that always made you feel a little weak in the knees.

You took a sip, grateful for the cool relief. He watched you with that intensity in his eyes, as if making sure you drank enough, his gaze never leaving your face. You finished the glass and handed it back, letting out a soft sigh. “Good girl,” Chan murmured, his tone warm but with an underlying trace of something that made your skin flush.

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a flutter in your chest. “Stop calling me that,” you teased, though the effect of his words had your heart beating just a little faster. But Chan’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “I’ll call you whatever I want, baby.” His lips curled into a smirk. “And you love it.”

You didn’t even try to hide the smile that tugged at your lips. “You’re insufferable,” you muttered, but your tone was fond, affectionate. Chan leaned in, brushing his lips against your forehead before murmuring softly, “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” You groaned in protest, curling back into the sheets. “I don’t want to move.”

“I know, but you’ll feel better after,” he coaxed gently, already pulling the blankets back and making his way to the bathroom. He scooped you up effortlessly in his arms, his strength comforting and solid as he walked with you toward the bathroom.

“You’re such a show-off,” you muttered, though you couldn’t suppress the smile that pulled at your lips. “And you love it,” he teased, pressing a playful kiss to your temple.

Chan’s gentle care didn’t stop once you were in the bathroom. He helped you out of the tangled sheets, his hands moving with an ease that came from years of knowing exactly how to make you feel cared for. There was no rush. No shame. Just the comfort of him taking care of you in the soft glow of the bathroom light.

You stood before him, naked and vulnerable in a way you had never felt with anyone else, yet with him, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Chan’s eyes softened as they traced over you, his touch tender as he gently took a warm washcloth and pressed it against your forehead. The coolness of it calmed your senses, but his steady hands were the true relief.

“You’re amazing,” you murmured, barely above a whisper. Chan’s lips curled into a soft smile as he brushed the washcloth down your neck, gentle and slow. His touch made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in the world. “I just want you to feel good, baby. You deserve it.”

The water on your skin made your body feel alive again, but there was something so calming about his care—his focus solely on you, his gaze warm, loving, but with just enough edge that made you shiver. “Feel better?” he asked, his voice smooth, with that soft teasing tone that always lingered.

You nodded, unable to stop the smile that tugged at your lips. “You’re too good to me,” you whispered, leaning into his touch as his hands gently rinsed off the remnants of the night’s heat from your skin.

After a few more moments, he helped you back into bed, carefully tucking you under the blankets as if you were the most precious thing in the world. His own skin, warm and close to you, kept you grounded as he climbed into bed beside you.

“I’m never letting you go,” he murmured, his voice a soft promise. You smiled, resting your head against his chest again, letting his heartbeat lull you back to comfort. “You say that every time,” you teased, your voice soft but warm. “I mean it every time,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

The night stretched on, quiet and comforting. Chan’s kisses, his tender words, his touch—they were all you needed. With him, everything else faded away. There was no rush, no expectations, just a space where you could both exist together, safe and loved. And as your eyes fluttered shut, you knew—you had everything you could ever need in this moment.

v4mps note: this was so fun to write! Please spam me with requests I absolutely love them!

[zylev-blog]

“You’re late.” Danny turns around, looking at the space his nephew now occupied.

Batman frowns, then sighs. He runs a hand across his head, where his hair would be if the cowl wasn’t there. “I know, I got caught up with—“

“I’m not interested in your excuse.” He cut off Batman, “You’re never punctual anyway.”

“Mom never cared.” Batman deflected.

“Of course she didn’t. She’s a Fenton; we’re always late, it’s just part of our biology.” He crossed his arms as he tilted his head, the crown on top of his head brushing against his hair with the movement.

“Have you found her soul yet?” Batman—Bruce asked.

“Not yet. I know she’s been reborn, but I haven’t tracked it down. I’m beginning to wonder if she ended up on a different planet from ours.”

“We’ll know it when we see it.” Bruce agreed, “Until then, we do nothing.”

“Hmm.” He grunted. “How are your children?”

“They’re doing good. Damian is adjusting well. You can always meet them, you know.” Bruce offered.

“I can’t.” He denied, “Most of them aren’t blood related. Being around me for an extended amount of time would sap their life force until they were liminal. They don’t deserve that.”

“I know,” Bruce huffed, “I just wish…”

“I know, Bruce.” He put his hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “Being fully dead and the ghost king is…not always fun.” He finished lamely.

“It’s okay. You did what you could after mom and dad died.”

The air between them was sad. He wished he could say something, anything, but there was nothing left to say. As much as Danny wished he could be with his nephew’s children, it just wasn’t possible. Being the ghost king might have saved the multiverse, but the cost was that he couldn’t be around his family. The only one would be Damian, Bruce’s blood son, since ectoplasm in his veins from Jazz would protect against his aura. Bruce’s other children wouldn’t have that luxury, and he would never risk his family’s health like that.

It was a good thing Gotham owed him a favor, and she watched over them for him instead.

[enwoso]

Can you write one about Lovie saying those 3 words to Leah and Leah being a sap about it 🤣

EIGHT LETTERS — alessia russo x leah williamson x child!reader

just a lil quick one, but i’m trying my best to get through as many requests as i can over the weekend. as i feel i’ve been a little dry on the fics lately.. (mb life’s been hectic!)

grumpy masterlist

"have you got your water bottle tiny?" leah asks as you nod pointing to alessia who has your water bottle in her hand as you hold the other. the two of you waiting for leah to finish locking up the car so you can go into the school gates.

usually it would just be your mummy who would drop you off at school, as she would do it on the way to training but before getting there alessia would pick leah up on the way. but for the past few weeks leah has been staying at alessia's home a long more frequently.

leah catches the two of you up, as your mummy tried to get you a little more excited for the day but you were still half asleep, you hadn't uttered more than five words since you woke up and that was telling your mummy what you wanted for your breakfast.

as you walked further into the school gates and you began to see more of your friends you perked up a little, sending each one a little wave as you mummy fixed your coat on your shoulders.

"mummy will be back later to pick you up, okay?" alessia smiled placing a kiss to your cheek as she helped you put your backpack on your shoulders as leah watched on with adoration, you were growing up so quick.

"have a good day, i love you" alessia smiled as she stood back up, next to leah as you waved, "i love you mummy" before you began to pick up the pace and run to catch up your friends. leah and alessia watching until you went into the building.

but just before you got to your friends you stopped and instead spun on your heal and ran back towards the two. a flash of confusion flashing over alessia as she looked around both herself and leah incase you had forgotten something, "why is- did she get her water bottle?" alessia mumbled as leah hummed nodding.

"then why is-"

"i love you le" you said in a hurry as you bundled into leah's leg hugging the side of her leg tight as she quickly got her words out trying to stay in one and not let her emotions rush over her, "i love you too, tiny" tapping you a few times on the head before you rushed back off towards your friends in the line as they were just about to go into the school building, your backpack swinging from side to side.

alessia watched the whole interaction, her heart swelling with a rush of warmth. she knew you had been wanting to tell leah that, cause whenever leah wasn't around and it was just the two of you, you would always be asking your mummy about leah especially since you now knew about her being your mummy's special friend.

alessia wrapped her arm around her girlfriends shoulders, as leah looked to her with tears in her eyes. it wasn't even past ten o'clock yet and the defender was already a wreck. hearing you tell leah those eight letters made her feel so welcomed into your little family dynamic and while it was only eight letters, it was the meaning that got to leah.

"she means that le, i promise." alessia told leah as the two walked back towards the car, hand in hand. leah nodding as she still felt overwhelmed with all the things she was feeling, she couldn't even begin to process them. this was a big step.

"anytime your not around, she always finds a way to bring you up" alessia admitted, as leah's eyebrows rose in sense of shock but also confusion.

“why?” leah thinks out loud, as alessia stops by leah’s car door giving the girl a look as if the answer wasn’t obvious.

“cause she loves you, you fool. i see the way you care about her the way i do. you love her as if she was your own and that makes me love you even more than i already do” alessia lets out a content sigh as leah stands in front of her, listening to every word that comes from her lips.

alessia leaning up to place a slow kiss to her lips as leah almost melts into it, her hands naturally find there way to alessia’s hips. breaking the kiss as leah places a few more pecks to alessia’s lips staying mere inches away from alessia’s face.

“i’m so happy your both in my life and i don’t think i can ever stop loving either of you” leah confesses as she tucks the loose strand of hair behind alessia’s ear as she grins.

“good, cause your stuck with us now”

“i wouldn’t have it any other way, baby”

[hischiershoe]

I just picture doing the we listen and we don’t judge trend with Nico and admitting you hide his favorite hoodie when he leaves for roadies so you can wear it

i did a teeny blurb on this i hope that’s okay :)

"I don't understand," Nico looks at you, his brown eyes swimming with confusion, "You just say a secret?"

"Kind of," You hum, propping your phone against the container, "It doesn't have to be a big secret. Just something silly like 'Sometimes I pretend not to notice when the trash is full so you'll take it out'. You know?"

"I take the trash out anyway," He teases, carefully pulled you into his side once you were finished setting your phone up.

“Well, yeah,” You playfully roll your eyes as you relax against him, “I was just using it as an example. I’ll go first and then you can go, okay?”

“Sounds good,” He presses his lips to your temple before you lean forward to start the timer.

“Remember we say ‘we listen and we don’t judge’ at the same time,” You reaffirm, giving him an appreciative smile as you look uo at him. He’s always so willing to let you drag him into the newest tiktok trends without complaint because he knows it makes you happy, and you love him for it.

Once the timer counts all the way down, you and Nico let out the trending phrase at the same tome before his attention is on you.

“Sometimes,” You begin, a smile tugging at your lips, “Well, all the time actually, I hide the hoodie you always wear before you go on a long road trip so I can wear it while you’re gone.”

As you turn to Nico, he’s giving you a knowing look, one corner of his mouth turned upwards before he says, “I know you do. I always make sure to wear it the day before we leave so some of my cologne is on there.”

“You’re such a sap,” You giggle, wiping at the happy tears that formed in your eyes, “But I love you for it. Now, it’s your turn!”

The two of you recount the phrase over again as to rub your hands on your leggings, and you turn to Nico as he readies himself for his part of the video. He places his hand on your thigh as he looks at you, your face slightly warming from his touch.

“So, you remember that one time you wanted to order from the deli in Hoboken and I told you they closed down,” He asks, biting back laughter when he watches your face contort with suspicion, “They didn’t actually close, they only stopped selling the breakfast bagel you like, so I learned how to make it at home for you. I make sure to wake up extra early so that I can make it before you wake up.”

Your jaw dropped open at his admission, the ability to form words suddenly fleeing from your mind as you gaped at him. You’d always been a little confused at Nico’s sudden interest in going by himself to the deli so early in the morning, especially because he hated getting up earlier than he had to, but he’d always brush you off with a simple excuse and divert the conversation.

“Nico,” Your voice wobbled as tears formed in your eyes yet again, “You learned how to make it just for me?”

“Of course,” He gently smiles, one hand squeezing your thigh and the other wiping at your cheeks, “I know how much you hate changing your usual order at places, so I asked them how to make it and learned on my own.”

“I really don’t know what I did to deserve you,” You sniffle as you wrap your arms around him, “I love you so much.”

“I love you.”

[pretentious-blonde]

valentine's

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: steve shows his love with steady hands when you get overwhelmed on your date

warnings: absolutely none, steve is a sap as per

a/n: something short n sweet for valentines while i work on pt 5 of new neighbour <3

masterlist

Steve could sense the moment your mood shifted, being well acquainted with your tells when your temper turned sour. And by the way you kept huffing, this was indeed one of those occasions. 

One minute, you were swirling a soft pink paint around the rim of your mug, lips quirked in concentration; the next, your shoulders hunched and a frown creased your forehead. 

It was Valentine’s Day, and he’d brought you to the local Paint & Pottery place with only the sweetest of intentions—an afternoon of lighthearted fun, hopefully followed by a few pastries at the new café down the street. 

Yet, the air between you felt heavy, and Steve didn’t like it one bit.

He set down his own mug—adorned with a simple checkered design that he’d nearly finished—and leaned forward, elbows on the table. The gentle pop music playing in the background did nothing to soothe his nerves once he caught the look on your face.

“You okay?” he asked softly, careful not to startle you. He reached out, lightly resting his hand on top of yours. “You’re, uh… kinda quiet.”

Your eyes flicked up, guilt flashing across your features. “Sorry,” you mumbled. “I just… I can’t get this stupid flower pattern right. The brush is too big. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

He could feel a pang in his chest at the frustration in your voice. 

You’d been so excited about recreating that delicate floral motif you saw in a shop weeks ago, all pouty when you placed it back on the shelf after looking at the price tag.

He wished he could’ve bought it for you, really, he did—but money wasn’t something he had in abundance. Knowing he couldn’t fix it with a simple swipe of his card stung more than he wanted to admit.

All he really wanted was to make you smile, so he racked his brain for solutions and discovered this might be the better option—you got a memory out of it, and he got to spend time with you, which should’ve been enough.

But of course—knowing you— you’d wanted it to be perfect. You looked close to tears as your vision was not translating, and that tugged at his heartstrings.

“Hey,” he murmured, sliding his chair closer so your knees bumped. “C’mon. Don’t be so hard on yourself. It looks—”

“Terrible?” you interjected with a shaky laugh. “I should’ve done polka dots or something simple, like you.”

“It looks great, angel,” he insisted. His brown eyes flickered with genuine admiration as he studied your work. “Seriously, I’d pay for it.”

A sad smile ghosted over your lips, but it didn’t fully reach your eyes. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not,” he said, voice soft. “Hey, look at me.” You did, reluctantly. He offered you an understanding smile. “Hand it over.”

You paused, fingers curling around the handle protectively. 

“Steve, it’s fine—”

“Just gimme a second.”

You hesitated, but the kindness in his gaze made it impossible to refuse. Once you relinquished the mug and your brush, he took a moment to study the design, turning the ceramic slowly in his hands. His brows pulled together in concentration, and you found yourself mesmerised by his focus.

“Trust me, alright?” He said, dipping the brush into the paint and testing a few strokes on a scrap piece of tissue. 

He gave a small nod, then started to outline one of the messy petals, breathing it into a graceful shape with careful flicks of his wrist.

“Wait…” you leaned forward, “you’re actually good at this?”

He shot you a shy grin, eyes flicking up from the mug. “Yeah? You think so?” When you nodded—very emphatically—he shrugged, cheeks faintly pink. “Well, thanks, sweetheart.”

You cocked your head. “How’d I never know about this?”

“I guess I’m just used to this stuff.” He shrugged “I kinda liked art class back in high school.”

“Really?” You felt a flutter in your chest at the thought of Steve being secretly artsy. So different from the jock persona everyone assumed he had back then.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, gaze flicking up to meet yours before darting back to the mug. He was clearly shy about it, but there was something gentle in his tone. “It was different, you know? No numbers. No tests. It just felt… calming, I guess. Something I couldn't really mess up.”

“Steve,” you said as your heart softened, watching the tension in his shoulders relax as he carefully perfected each petal. “You should do more of this. You’re really good.”

He paused, brush hovering above the ceramic, and lifted his head. There was a trace of blush across his cheeks again. 

“Yeah? I don’t know… maybe I could.” He offered a tiny shrug, but the vulnerable smile that followed pulled at your chest all over again. “I’d probably rock one of those art aprons.”

You snorted softly, a genuine laugh bubbling up. Leaning in closer, you dared to rest your hand on his forearm, careful not to obstruct his ministrations.

“I’d put money on that,” you teased. “But really. If it makes you feel good, you should totally get back into it.”

His gaze lingered on you for a moment, gratitude shining. He cleared his throat, turning his attention back to your mug. A few final details later, he set the brush down and held the mug up for your inspection, pride dancing in his eyes.

“There,” he announced, a bit bashful. “All fixed.”

You gingerly took the mug, carefully studying the newly finessed petals. The tension in your stomach lifted entirely, no longer vexed by the finicky design. 

“It’s perfect.”

His grin stretched wide, and he looked boyish in his delight. 

“I, uh… You’re welcome,” he managed, scratching the back of his neck. “Glad you like it.”

The pair of you made your way to the front counter, setting both mugs down for firing. As the employee came over, he slipped an arm around your waist. 

You could still feel lingering traces of tension in your body, but it was quickly being replaced by his warmth. He leaned in close, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

“Next time,” he whispered, “maybe we try something super sappy, like…” He paused, searching for just the right words. “...Matching friendship bracelets. I heard they’re all the rage. Obviously we’d make ‘em look cooler than Dustin and his girls, but you know.”

You laughed out loud, the last of your frustration melting away entirely. Leaning up, you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. 

“Deal,” you said, giving his hand a squeeze. “But only if you promise to put tiny flowers on mine, too.”

His eyes sparkled. “Sweetheart,” he said, dropping a quick kiss to the top of your head, “for you, I’ll put in the whole garden.”

[sleepy-symphony]

after this arc finishes, i need atsushi to be so utterly fucked up from it all

i need him curling into a ball at the back of his closet-bedroom. uncontrollable trembles wracking his body as he cowers. buried under all his blankets but still freezing. cold sweat sticking his greasy bangs to his forehead. eyes wide and pupils constantly blown-out with fear. refusing to move, to talk, to eat.

i need him to be tired. so tired. so so tired. all he wants is sleep. all he's doing is sleeping but he can't shake the exhaustion. screaming and crying from nightmares every night. red lines up and down his arms from his fingernails. fist in his mouth to muffle the sobs. raw bedsores down his body. he can't get the smell of blood out of his nose. every movement is a blade slicing down. every sound is the crunch of bones.

i need him flinching at every touch. too much too much too much. everyone is coaxing, begging for him to allow them to feed him. to move him. to bathe him. to hold him. to get him help. he's shaking his head. backed against the wall. desperate. he's killing them all for the second time. he just knows it. 120 pounds of dead weight chained to their ankles.

he was strong. so strong. he doesn't want to be anymore. he's so tired. please. he's a husk of himself. small. a child again. shhh, it's okay baby, shhh, baby. futile attempts to self-soothe. phantom nails through his feet again and again and again.

he thinks he's dying. rotting. decaying. fused to the futon. weeds in his lungs. vines cross-stitching through his heart. mold on his bones. sap in between his teeth. rotten flowers under his tongue.

the squeak of the door. golden light slipping in. the dark shadow curls at his side. soft brush against his cheek. tender is the flesh, they say.

I'm here, you fool

something breaks. shatters. his cheek against firm chest. beating heart against his ear. life. hiccuping. pathetic ocean.

solace. home.

Welcome back, weretiger

[copilot-crashout]

Could i request some general fluff x reader relationship headcanons for curly, both pre and post crash/recovered? Just pre-crash is okay too if you’re not comfortable writing for him post crash :)

Pairing: Pre-crash Captain Curly x gn!reader ; Post-crash Curly x gn!reader

Content Warning: None! [except Jimmy... Does he need a warning? (ᐡ๐ ·̫ ๐)〣 ] Post-crash Curly is slightly angsty, I hope that's okay! ♡

[A/N]: I'm hoping for more requests soon! I like writing for you all! More importantly, I hope you enjoy reading! ( ⩌⩊⩌)✧ I truly hope my love for these characters shines through my writing...

(PRE-CRASH) CAPTAIN CURLY:

-> #1 wife guy. He'd go giddy if you got him a mug about how much he loves you (or anything of the sort). He would love to match with you. He'd have a pair of matching pyjamas at home and a set of matching keychains attached to his keys. Has a picture of you both from a date you went on before working on the Tulpar in his leather wallet. He keeps it on him at all times and stares at it when he feels especially bad.

-> Jimmy rolls his eyes and sinks back into his chair when he watches Curly look at the picture like a man who's been at war for a decade.

-> Anya can only giggle when she glances at the two of you in the kitchen before your shifts start, voices hushed as Curly presses a soft kiss to your forehead before the day starts.

-> Swansea grumbles whenever he sees you two getting overly affectionate, you leaning against Curly during a heated game night aboard the ship. His demeanor changes when he notices the familiar glimmer of adoration in Curly's eyes, reminding him of how he felt about his wife back on Earth. At least you two didn't have to deal with long-distance dating.

-> Daisuke hopes to have a relationship like yours! He playfully banters with Curly, asking how he pulled someone like you. Wants to hear everything about your relationship. Treats you two like his pseudo-parents, giving you a sneaky wink whenever he steals another sweetener packet, a shared promise not to tell Curly.

-> Much more affectionate in private. He still needs to play captain, after all. Professionalism is important in the workplace! He's the type to play soft music in the background while you both relax, holding each other under thin blankets as he places gentle kisses on any part of you he can reach, stubble tickling your skin. He loves to hold your hand in any way but enjoys more subtle touches (like locking pinkies together). When walking with you in the dim halls, he places a gentle hand on the small of your back to let you know he's there.

-> However, his idea of love causes him to be more reserved when it comes to his problems. He does trust you! He just doesn't want to sag you down with his issues. He's the Captain. He should be strong enough to handle his burdens. You'd have to comfort him and remind him that it's okay to talk it through. Your willingness to help him only makes his love deeper.

-> A huge sap for the cheesy and romantic. Surprise him with breakfast in bed, and he's pondering whether to marry you now or after he finishes eating. Dreams of your future together, too. A small family in a quaint, little home with friendly neighbours. Don't want kids? How about some pets to keep you company?

-> Loves to tease you. He wants to see you smile, especially because of him. Expect feather-light touches on your waist that make you shiver, followed by a deep chuckle at your reaction. He leaves his post early (relying on his co-pilot and Tulpar's autopilot system to pick up his slack) to visit you, ensuring you're "doing your tasks correctly." Not to see you jump at his voice or when he places his large hand on your shoulder. Not at all!

(POST-CRASH) CAPTAIN CURLY:

-> He's sorry. He's so, so, sorry.

-> Initially, the pain of his injuries causes him to cry. Eventually, the thoughts of you burn more than the searing pain that reminds him of his consciousness. He weeps as if he has truly lost you, for how could someone love a man so misguided?

-> If you ever visit him, he feels sick. How could you still want to see him after all this? He was a failure of a man, yet here you were with a kind smile as if nothing happened.

-> He'd love to hear your voice. It was more pleasant than the silence of the Medical Bay or from Jimmy's ramblings. How were the crew? How were you? He'd feel especially guilty if you talked about your relationship and what you hoped they could do before the crash. The date plans, the simple times spent together. He could dream of it, still.

-> Read him a story. It'll help him sleep easier. It reminds him of those nights when the two of you chatted about nothing, dozy and delirious off each other's presence, lulling yourselves into a comfortable sleep when Pony Express couldn't care enough to provide a good sleeping quarter.

-> His heart breaks at the sight of you dishevelled, tired of surviving on the Tulpar. He wished he had his hands back to gently trace the curves of your face and hold you close to him as you forgot about the world. He still tries to comfort you, a garbled noise here, or a small movement of his arm to try and show his support.

-> As he recovers back on Earth, he'd be ecstatic to have you by his side. Having you by his side was the quickest way for him to recover.

-> If he recovers his voice, the first thing he says is a quiet thank you and a simple "I love you." The apologies came later. He just needed to make sure you knew how lucky he was to have someone so perfect.

-> Likely during recovery, I'd imagine him needing some kind of service animal. It may not be the kids he was hoping for, but having you and a pet was something he only dreamt about while staring into the fake sunset.

-> He becomes much more open about his emotions. The pain of not being able to vocalise them is one he never wants to face again. Tender nights and open communication become commonplace in your relationship.

-> He's still the #1 wife guy, only cranked up to 1000. If you thought he was bad before, you haven't seen the man now. If he ever gets drunk, he sobs about how much he loves you to anyone in his vicinity. He could do it sober but doesn't want to embarrass you (too much). He takes the time to learn your favourite recipes, making them when he can and makes sure to compliment you at least once a day. He just wants you to love yourself the way he loves you!

-> Your time together is peaceful and he wouldn't want it any other way.

[nylqnder]

SKATING LESSONS WILL SMITH

— event masterlist !

pairing: fem!reader x will smith

summary: growing up in california, hockey and skating was not something you came by often. now, dating will, he decides to bring it in to your life and teach you to skate

warnings: an appearance from macklin, descriptions of reader being born in socal

wc: 1.27k

notes: third fic in my twelve days of christmas celebration! despite being born and raised in canada i am a god awful skater.

The crisp cold air prickled against your nose the moment you stepped into the SAP Center, a world utterly foreign to you. Growing up in sunny California, your life had revolved around beaches, sun-kissed boardwalks, and the lazy rhythm of waves lapping against the shore. Skating had been something you’d only ever seen in movies — elegant and effortless. And hockey? That was a mystery, a sport that belonged to distant snowy places you never thought about.

But here you were, bundled up in a long puffer jacket, watching as players and their families swirled around the rink. The air buzzed with laughter and chatter, children weaving between the adults with fearless abandon, while you hovered on the edge, your heart pounding against your ribs.

Will watched as your eyes darted around the rink, clearly nervous about skating for the first time. “Hey,” he said softly, pulling your gaze away from the ice. “Come sit, I’ll help you with your skates.”

You perched nervously on the bench, your legs bouncing slightly as Will crouched in front of you, guiding your foot into the skate. His fingers worked expertly, threading the laces through each eyelet, tugging them tight but not too tight.

“Okay,” he said, glancing up at you as he tied the knot. “First rule of skating: trust me. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. “Easier said than done. What if I fall? Or take someone else out? Or—”

“Hey.” His voice was low, soothing, and when his eyes met yours, the chaos of the rink seemed to fade for a moment. “You’re not gonna fall. And if you do, guess what? I’ll be right there to catch you. Or at least to laugh with you about it.”

That earned a small laugh, and you felt some of the tension in your shoulders ease.

Will finished tying your skate and patted your knee. “There. All set. You’re officially ready to hit the ice.”

You glanced warily at the rink, where a group of kids zipped past, giggling. “I don’t know if I can do this, Will…”

Will stood up, holding out his hand with an encouraging smile. “You can. And you’re not doing it alone. Come on, take it one step at a time.”

Reluctantly, you placed your hand in his, the warmth of his grip steadying you as you stood on the thick rubber mats that led to the rink. The skates felt alien beneath your feet, your ankles wobbling with each step. Will stayed close, his other hand at your elbow as he guided you to the edge of the ice.

“Okay, deep breath,” he said, stepping onto the ice first with practiced ease. His movements were fluid, as if the rink was his second home. He turned to you, his hand still extended. “One foot, then the other. You’ve got this.”

You hesitated, staring at the shimmering ice that stretched out endlessly in front of you. Your stomach twisted, and for a second, you thought about bolting back to the bench. But then you saw Will’s expression — patient, reassuring, and full of quiet confidence in you.

With a shaky inhale, you stepped onto the ice. The blade slipped slightly beneath you, and you clutched his hand like a lifeline.

“See? Not so bad,” he said with a grin, steadying you with both hands now. “Just keep your knees bent a little, and don’t lock them. That’ll help you balance.”

You nodded, still gripping his hands tightly as he led you forward. Your steps were cautious and slow, more like a shuffle than actual skating. Every few seconds, your skates would slide unpredictably, and you’d let out a startled squeak, causing Will to chuckle.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice like a warm anchor in the chaos of your mind. “You’re doing great. Just focus on me, okay?”

Little by little, you started to find a rhythm. Will kept his movements slow and steady, walking backward as he guided you further out onto the ice. The sound of blades cutting through the ice and the laughter of others faded into the background.

“Okay, I’m gonna let go now,” Will said, stopping in the middle of the rink.

“What? No!” Your voice rose in panic, and your grip on his hands tightened.

“You’ve got this,” he reassured, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Trust me.”

Before you could protest further, he gently released your hands and skated a few feet away.

The moment he let go, you wobbled, your arms flailing as you tried to keep your balance. Your heart pounded as you felt the unsteady glide of the skates beneath you. “Will!”

“You’re doing it!” he called, his smile wide and proud.

You blinked, realizing you were still upright, albeit wobbling like a newborn fawn. Tentatively, you pushed one foot forward, then the other. The movement was slow and uncoordinated, but it was progress. A thrill of accomplishment surged through you.

“I’m skating!” you said, half-laughing, half-disbelieving.

“Damn right you are,” Will said, skating backward to stay close, ready to catch you if needed.

Just as you were starting to feel proud of yourself, a blur of motion zipped by, and you heard a familiar voice call out, “Looking good out there, Bambi!” Macklin skated right past you, a smirk plastered on his face. 

“Bambi?” you echoed, glaring at him as he sped off.

Will was at your side in an instant, laughing. “Ignore him. He’s just jealous you’re picking it up so quickly.”

“I doubt that,” you said, your lips twitching into a grin despite yourself.

Macklin looped back around, throwing in a dramatic spin before skating off again. “Just don’t take out any kids, okay?” he called over his shoulder.

“Push me in his direction, I’m gonna fall on him and take him out.” you said, eyes narrowing on his speedy figure as he skated away.

Will burst out laughing, holding onto your waist to keep you from actually launching yourself in Macklin's direction.  “Not today, Bambi. Let’s stick to standing and skating for now.”

You grumbled something under your breath that Will couldn’t quite make out, but couldn’t stop smiling as Will guided you into another slow lap around the rink. He kept a hand on your back this time, steady and reassuring, while the other waved dramatically at Macklin as if to warn him to keep his distance.

You continued to focus on keeping your balance. The sensation of skating was still foreign, every movement precarious, but you were starting to feel a little braver. Your legs shook less with each stride, and you managed to glance around, taking in the rink without feeling overwhelmed.

By the time you stepped off the ice, your legs were like jelly, and your cheeks ached from smiling so much. As you sank onto the bench, putting your feet in Will’s lap so he could help you take off your skates, you couldn’t help but laugh. “I can’t believe I actually did that.”

Will plopped down beside you, his own skates still on. “I told you you could. And you didn’t even fall once. That’s impressive.”

“What can I say, I’m a natural.” you shrugged.

Will smirked, tugging your skate off and setting it aside. “A natural, huh? Should I sign you up for the next practice? You and Macklin can battle for ice time.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully nudging his shoulder. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. But… I think I could get used to this.”

His grin softened, his hand brushing yours. “Good. Because I like having you out there with me.”

[ninupi]

Hello~I have a request about Hanma, how would he react to reader getting asked by someone as to why they like Hanma and she answers "well it's cuz he's a bundle of joy!" :D

sweetheart | s. hanma

₊˚⊹♡ tags; fem!reader, mentions of hanma being in a gang (obvi lol), readers friends assuming crazy stuff, lmk if anything else needs to tagged

₊˚⊹♡ wc; 900+

₊˚⊹♡ a/n; im soso sorry it took me so long to get to this but I hope you enjoy </3 also didn't realize it said HANMAS REACTION til like halfway through writing LOLL

"You'll pick me up after classes right?" you ask Hanma as you slide off his bike taking off the helmet he insists you wear when riding with him despite him not wearing one himself. He gives you an unimpressed look while fixing the hair on top of your head. 

"Have I ever not picked you up after class?" you can't help but laugh at the tone of his voice. "I just like to be sure. It would be easier if you just came to class, though. " You give him a hopeful look, hoping he'll finally stop skipping class for once.

He immediately sucks his teeth causing you to roll your eyes "You know that's not my thing babe, I've got other stuff to do anyway" You let out a soft sigh knowing he just means gang-related things "Whatever...it'd just be nice to see you throughout the day sometimes."

He lets out a soft sigh when he sees the way you pick at the strap of your bag and stare at your shoes "C'mon don't be like that y/n..." he says reaching for your hand, holding it firmly while you still refuse to meet his eyes. 

"I'll take you to that new cafe you wanted to go to today if you look at me" he can't help the grin on his face when you look up at him before he even finishes his sentence. "You mean it?" He fakes an annoyed groan causing you to playfully slap his arm. 

"Yeah yeah I mean it, I'll take you" he smiles seeing how excited you are by the news "Ok ok, you better be here as soon as the last bell rings then!" you say to him turning to head through the school gates when you feel his grip on your hand tighten. 

Turning towards him you give him a confused look but he only raises his eyebrows silently reminding you of what you forgot "You're such a sap" you giggle while pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his lips "Watch it or no cafe" he jokinglythreats. 

You only roll your eyes at the empty threat while he brings your hand to his lips and presses a gentle kiss "I'll see you after class" he reassures while starting up his bike leaving you to wave goodbye to him before heading into school.

Once you've made it into your classroom you notice all your friends surrounding your desk talking about something. "Hey guys what's up?" they all look at you a bit wide-eyed at your 'sudden' arrival "Hey y/n…we were just talking."

You give Mai an odd look, obviously, they were talking "Yeah I know…about what though?" at this all of them stay quiet not wanting to talk anymore it seems, you give them all a weird look when your other friend Ayase sighs out "We were talking about your boyfriend."

At this you get a bit defensive, why would they be talking about Shuji? "What about him?" some of the girls cringe hearing the annoyed tone of your voice "No, not like that!" Ayase immediately says causing you to give her a suspicious look.

"Then what?" you question getting annoyed at the shy glances they give each other "It's just…" you give her an expected look waiting for her to finish "I mean why are you with that guy? Seriously? Is he threatening you or something? We can report him-"

"What the hell, he's not threatening me! Where did you even get something like that from?" you question her angrily while your other friends try to do damage control "I'm just asking y/n! He's a well-known delinquent, I've never heard anything good about him I just wanted to make sure you're okay!"

The two of you are now somewhat yelling at each which has gained the attention of other students in the class "Yeah he's a delinquent but he's a good boyfriend, he's never done anything to me or let anything to me!" You watch as your friend tries to find the right words to say. 

"You don't know him Ayase, you just listen to what other people say! And yeah that other stuff is probably true but I don't know that Shuji, the Shuji I know is good to me and treats me right. So who cares if he's a delinquent, he's the greatest guy I've ever met!" 

You feel your ears get hot once you finish talking, not realizing how loud you actually were. Your friends stare at you a bit dumbfounded at your outburst, Ayase finally goes to say something the classroom door opens bringing everyone's attention to it rather than you two. 

"Didn't know you could get that loud babe" Your face contorts into an embarrassing scowl at Hanma's words "Don't mind me though, I just came by to drop this off" he's holding up your lunch that you seemingly forgot with a cheeky smile. 

He softly places it on your desk along with a red bean bun that looks like it's from the convenience store across the street "Also got you this, know how much you love 'em" he winks loving how embarrassed you seem to be. 

"Thanks, Shuji, you didn't have to though…" you mutter now hyperaware of everyone's eyes on the two of you "Anything for my girl, don't forget about the cafe after classes though! Don't want you to be too full to actually try anything" he teases ruffling the top of your head before leaving. 

You keep your eyes on the packaged bun on your desk too embarrassed to meet your friend's eyes "You were right y/n, he seems like a great guy" You look up to see your friends giving you teasing smiles. You can feel all your annoyance come back at once "You guys suck!" 

[endless-ineffabilities]

The Bolter (part three)

Steve Rogers x f!reader

synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?

in this chapter : The reader returns to New York for the first time after Steve left, reuniting with Bucky. We see a little more of what the reader and Steve went through while on the run.

themes/warnings : pining, tension, unrequited love, two sad saps (reader and Bucky) trying to get over trauma and heartache :(, language, brief mention of injuries

word count : <2k

main masterlist ▪︎ series masterlist

2024, three months after Steve's departure

You just finished your second mission since the final battle.

Since Tony. Since Nat.

Since... him.

Only three months, or rather, three long months. You don't know why Sam was worried that you are apparently overworking yourself.

He keeps calling you up, checking in from time to time, making sure that you are allowing yourself to relax. Have a little break. Stay with them in New York for a while. Maybe even have a couple of sessions with the therapist Bucky is seeing.

He must have done a darn good job at convincing you, or maybe you were just exhausted, because you arrive back in New York soon enough.

And Bucky comes knocking on your door not long after.

Your eyes meet, both of you blocking your doorway. Not a single word needs to be said - the understanding you two share runs much deeper.

Two kindred abandoned souls and whatnot.

You step aside to let him through and close the door behind him. His hair is trimmed shorter now, and with his getup, he could pass as just another civilian. It takes another beat of silence before he finally asks, "So how are you?"

You snort at how ridiculous his question sounds. He knows. "How are you?" you counter, eyebrows raised in a challenge.

"Touché," he says, shrugging off his leather jacket and placing it atop your kitchen island. He knows his way around. He's been here before, on the many nights you both shared drinks with Natasha, Sam and... him.

Damn it. You curse internally. It's okay, his name was Steve. He's not the fucking boogeyman.

He gives you a quick once over, immediately noticing that you're putting a lot of your weight on your left leg.

"I fell out a window," you sigh.

"Fuck's sake," he grimaces, shaking his head.

"Hey, we can't all be super soldiers, Buck. My muscles are just a bit softer than yours."

He presses on, still concerned, "Checked in for your physical yet?"

"Booked it for tomorrow," you respond. "But it shouldn't be too bad."

You feel his eyes continue to scan you, but in a non-invasive way. He's checking for more injuries, more signs of wear and tear. He's a lot like Steve, but his gaze is different, less commanding.

More broken.

"Anything new?" you have to ask to distract yourself, and he picks up on it right away. About Steve. He hasn't shown up like he said he would. You had been dreading it - the possibility of seeing a much older Steve, after he got to live out his life in this timeline.

He promised he would try and find you. A version of him, at least. White-haired and wrinkled and weary, but still your Steve. He said you would see him again, in what would be his future and your present, and say a real goodbye. Maybe even tell you all about his life and his girl.

You thought you blocked all that out, but sadly it did not slip your mind. You remember. And you didn't want to be there when it happens.

But nothing did, and you didn't know whether to be worried or relieved.

"Nothing," Bucky shakes his head. "But Dr. Banner is keeping track on whether there are any anomalies in the timeline, specifically in where Steve went back. Everything seems to be normal."

He's fine, and he finally got his normal. And you should let go.

As if he can read your mind, Bucky says, "It's hard to let go, isn't it?"

He's struggling. Of course he is. Bucky also has an old skin to shed, and bones to bury. You never encountered the Winter Soldier back in the day, but you heard of him.

Once you got to know Bucky, you never needed to know anything else. This is who he really is, and he's a good person. He's your friend.

And Steve trusted him. He believed in him. That would have been enough in your eyes, if anything.

"What makes you think I haven't let go yet?" you smile weakly.

He exhales, smiling back. Because, he seems to say, I know you.

Stepping forward, he opts for putting a hand on your shoulder first, unsure. He squeezes gently once, but then changes his mind and pulls you in for a hug at the last second, careful not to add any stress on your leg.

It takes the breath out of you, with his vibranium arm wrapped around your midtorso.

"I'm glad you're back," he mumbles against your hair.

Bucky knows that only you would really understand. The others, maybe they loved Steve too. Admired him. But it was different with the two of you.

Clint can move on with his family. Sam has his new responsibilties. Thor is out of world. Wanda has her own burden to bear. The world will go on as it always has.

But not for us, you think. As he held you tight, you decide that you will help Bucky through it. You will make sure that he gets the peace that he deserves and he is able to let go of Steve. Even if doesn't happen for you, this would be enough.

You offer him a drink after a moment, and he accepts without hesitation.

This is how it starts. This is how the two of you begin to move on.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

2017, ten months after the Avengers' Civil War

"Where were you?" Steve's voice came from somewhere in the room. He was seated in the small living room of your shared cabin, blinds drawn shut, almost out of sight.

You twisted around, and let your duffel bag fall to the floor. Squeezing the bridge of your nose, you let out a shaky breath. "What the hell, Steve, you nearly scared me."

You rummaged through the cupboard, looking for your stashed whiskey. "Nearly," you repeated in jest, when you heard him making his way to you.

You got a much better look at him then. His hair had darkened due to its length, and his beard was thicker. You were going to need several swigs of hard alcohol to resist jumping his bones.

"I was worried," he said, and his tone was gentler. It made you feel guilty, and you didn't know why. "I came back from Wakanda and you were gone."

"I wasn't gone, Steve. Sam needed help getting away with something, you know how it is. We don't exactly have a set schedule on when and where to go, given our fugitive status."

"I know, I know," he said right away, frustrated. What's wrong with him? "But you could have called, left a note - "

"A note could have been intercepted."

" - anything. Just to let me know how you are. You could have been taken in for all I know - "

"You really think I would let them take me in?"

He threw a stern glare your way, propping a hand on his hip. Based on his stance, you thought of how it looked like Captain America was about to give you a good scolding.

But you beat him to it. You were just too tired, and your arm was killing you. "Look, Steve, I had to help Sam and you were still in Wakanda checking up on Bucky. I didn't think it was a big deal. I thought I would be back here by the time you - "

"What's wrong with your arm?" he interrupted you, his practiced eyes easily noticing the damage, and reached for your forearm. "Take your jacket off."

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head before you can catch yourself. "What?" you squeaked, but you knew just what he meant.

Steve was on full Captain mode, always looking out for anyone he feels responsible for. That's all it was. You had to remind your hopeful self that it was nothing more.

His hands were waiting by the neckline of your jacket, asking for permission. Ever so polite, even when his mood is sour.

You can ignore a lot of things, compartmentalize your emotions. You're used to it all, not getting too attached to anyone or anything as a result of your chosen life.

But you couldn't ignore the burning feeling his fingertips left behind as they grazed your skin. When he guided you to the couch so he can take a better look at the bruises on your arm, you were seated close. The closest you've ever been to each other, but he didn't look fazed at all.

Of course not. This doesn't mean the same to him, as it does to me.

You watched him the entire time, his long eyelashes almost grazing his cheek as he looked down at his work. His brows furrowed in concentration. Once in a while, he mumbled something that sounded like, never should've happened, or gotta watch out next time.

It didn't take long for him to fix you up nicely, your arm disinfected and wrapped in gauze.

After you thanked him, you stood from the seat, ready to compartmentalize that moment too. Because that was not the time to go falling for anyone, especially not someone who was just too good for you.

But he grabbed your hand before you walked away, looking up at you as he stayed seated.

"Steve?" There it was again, that burning. That warmth. If he didn't notice the goosebumps on your skin before, you were sure he saw them then.

"I - " he hesitated, before finally deciding on, "I'm glad you're okay."

You tilted your head, smiling. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, y'know."

His worried and serious expression drops and he smiled, eyes all crinkled.

And that was one sight you won't ever be able to ignore.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

A week later, Natasha dropped by. Sporting a brand new white-blonde hairdo that suited her just as fine as her signature red.

You teased her about it, saying how she must have been waiting for an opportunity like this to have an excuse to drastically switch out her hairstyle.

The two of you sat on the bench on the patio while Steve chopped up wood in the distance, looking like a right ol' lumberjack.

He looked too damn good, and it annoyed you. He wasn't making any of it easy.

"You could switch your hair out too, you know. It helps in going incognito," she reached over and twirled a strand of your hair.

You swatted her hand away playfully, grinning, "Oh, but my face is too memorable so it might not even work."

"Oh really?" she smiled, with that mischievous glint in her eye. "Well, Steve certainly seems to think so."

"Uh, what do you mean?"

"He looks at you like you're his sun or something," she stretched out, amused by the obvious rush of blood to your face.

You shook your head profusely, because of how wrong you thought her assumptions were. "He looks at me because there's no one else around here to look at. Not for at least fifty miles or even more."

"Honey, please. It's my job to know these things."

"Oh, is it now?"

"Mhmm," she patted your knee, tilting her head in Steve's direction without turning to look at him. "I'm willing to bet Tony's LA mansion that he's looking at you right now."

"No, he's not - "

"Then prove me wrong."

But you turned, and you couldn't prove her wrong.

Your eyes met Steve's and when he realized your attention was on him, he simply smiled.

Like you were his sun, Natasha had said. But she was a bit off the mark.

You were never Steve's sun, but he was yours.

Read part four here ~

taglist (let me know if you wish to be added!) : @vicmc624 @littleliyah16 @babezawa @klammykayla @justsebstan @blue--ingenue @numblytemporary @bradshawass @delicious-xx

It will be a bit more of jumping back and forth through time, before we see everyone back together (even Steve? 🤷🏻‍♀️)

It's the start of a potential Bucky x reader. I gotta be careful here because I might just flip and want the reader to be with him instead.. who could ever look over Bucky???? He's going to make it hard for us that's for sure.