#the way I wanna smother him in whipped cream

[ericcarrsworshipper]

I want him. I need him. Oh baby, oh baby.

If you have any juicy pics of Eric I wanna see em 👀👀👀

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

JJK Men General Relationship Headcanons

Note: my first writing hope yall like it... feel free to leave requests

WC: 1.1k

CW: None just fluff

Neutral!reader x gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso

GOJO SATORU

Bro is a menace. Will make you question why you are dating him everyday. He just likes making you mad yk those types of guys that flirt with you by being mean to you. HE'S ONE OF THEM

Spoils tf out of you. I feel like he would give you gifts and he definitely makes a big deal about it. He loves LOUD

Definitely the type to make you wear a G-letter necklace and you can NEVER take it off. I’m crying 

 His love language is physical touch. No arguing. He NEEDS to be touching you 24/7. Hugs from behind are his favorite omg and with him so tall and all. My ass is 5��9 and he’s 6’4 just ughhhhhh 

Random thought but I feel like he's a nail biter. Yeah he acts cool and all but, that's how that mf relieves his anxiety. He be munchin fr. So if yall bite your nails too (i do) you can bond with that 

GETO SUGURU

Ah Geto! I feel like he's the type of guy that is quiet around everyone else besides you. He opens up to you and tells you everything when he gets comfortable.

He also spoils you but it’s more quiet in a way. Yk how people say private but not a secret. That’s yalls relationship. 

He loves loves loves calling I feel. He will always facetime or call. When he's playing videos or smth yall are on the phone. 

Love Language is definitely acts of service. He cooks and cleans, Definitely has GREAT hygiene. He just always smells so yummy. 

Random thought but, he definitely always wears a hair tie on his wrist. For you or for him but mostly for you. Also weirdly he also always has chapstick. Pookie don’t have not one crack in them luscious lips. The flavor imma has to say good old strawberry. 

NANAMI KENTO 

WHEN I TELL YOU I CREAMED MY PANTIES the day I saw a tiktok where it said he was 200lbs. IMAGINE that hunk of a man smothering you in kisses and cuddles. OMG I love this man. 

He’s like Geto. He loves you quietly. But he's the type of man that would date to marry. You bet your ass he's gonna marry you. I wanna marry him. Everyone wants to marry him. 

He loves coming home from work just to be with you. You are his peace. I feel like he’d like bag rubs and he’d like giving you sum too yk. You feel me. 

Love language is definitely quality time. Imagine baking bread with him. OMG i love baking guys i’d bake him anything. But yeah cute little date yall can have. So cute so domestic. 

Random thought but I feel like he’d ask for you to iron his clothes yk since he always wears a suit. Like he could def do it himself but he just likes watching you do it. He def has that “in love” stare while watching you. NANAMI 

TOJI FUSHIGURO

DADDY

I feel like out of all the guys for him he would take the longest to fall in love with you or actually realize that he has feelings for you but, once he realizes he's WHIPPED 

He’d do anything.. Tell him to go to the store no questions asked. You don’t feel like cooking. He’ll try his be… yall are ordering food. Need a foot rub, he's right there on the couch with you watching whatever show YOU like rubbing your feet. 

I'm sorry but I have them daddy issues. Like if yall argue or smth and he makes you cry or makes you upset, he doesn’t mean too. He'd feel so bad and he’d be the BEST comforter (is that a word?). Like he just holds you and stuff and apologizes. 

Love language… This a tough one. Imma go with words of affirmation. I feel like he takes pride in being told he's doing smth good yk. Hes just trying his best to not fuck up another relationship yk so please tell that poor baby he’s doing good. 

Random thought but let's say in my little world of fanfiction he never left Megumi. It'd be important to him that Megumi likes the woman he’s with yk. Let that motherly instinct kick in. 

CHOSO KAMO

THE LITERAL LOML. 

YOU have to teach him how to be in a relationship. He won’t know nun. Like yes he knows women and men like each other, they get married and shit, and have babies. But he doesn’t know how to yk romance you ig. BUT YOU BEST BELIEVE HE WILL TRY THE HARDEST

He will def be the type to ask around and read up on it. Bringing you flowers and chocolate yk little gifts here and there. Always telling you he loves you and DATES so many dates. He wants everyone to know yall are together. HE IS YOURS. He’d def be the type to ask, “can i be your bf?” instead of “be my gf” yk. Yall know what i'm talkin bout.

Not that this man has anything to be insecure about but, I feel like once he is out in the public and stuff he notices that no one has any marks like his over his nose. He’d just feel a little uncomfortable but don’t let him. KISS HIS MARK PLEASEEEEE. God he blush so much and that embarrassment about it will fade completely. SO CUTE i just wanna nibble him. 

Love language.. I could literally write a 5 page essay with works cited on how he could be all 5 but, well go with physical touch rn. The first time yall kissed, he could’ve sworn he was in heaven. He def pulled away with his eyes still closed savoring the moment. He literally is always kissing you and hugging you. He's so clingy in a good way. Always holds your hand in public. DO NOT SPLIT THE POLE. He would be on the verge of tears (I'm being dramatic). 

Random thought but he’d def be the type of guy who would be like “let me ask my gf.” He knows he doesn’t need your permission to do stuff but he just likes telling you and letting you know. He so ugh…i just want him in my pocket is that too much to ask. 

[mommycity]

hi hungry anon back again! i present to thee... DOUBLE CHIN SUGU ‼️‼️

its just a tiny eensy weensy thing hanging from the bottom of his chin but the way you laser in on it after a few days of sharing your food with him is a little freaky (but he doesnt mind it that much because of all the kisses you give him right there)

for fanart reference i highly suggest monosrojo's art of chubby sugu its like the only jjk art they have other than a drawing of yuuta + rika BUT VERY GOOD

when suguru starts visibly gaining weight you smother him in kisses, giving him the same treatment he gives you.

squeezing his love handles, nuzzling into his tummy, smacking his FAT ass when he walks by, and saying how much you love him, of course ♥️.

and he quickly takes it all in stride. backed by his own assurance in himself and affirmations from his supportive partner!!

and your reply about him making you feel better...actually so real.

you probably send him a text about how bad your day was, or venting about an incident at work and the second hes off the clock, hes heading to a wonderful bakery that he frequently splurges at.

the box he brings home is huge and heavy, but packed to the brim with one of every pastry they offer while in his head hes thinking about making a sandwich thats layered with tons of different fillings. all together, his plan for dinner is incredibly calorie dense, but as long as youre happy he doesnt mind.

when he gets home, he gives you a kiss from where youre laying in a sad heap on the couch, but you perk up at the pretty box he set down on the coffee table.

if you ask what it is, a sly grin is plastered on his face, 'something to make you feel better.' is all he says before tucking you under his chin and letting you vent about your day.

as you start talking, hes going to hold up macarons, donuts stuffed with whipped cream and strawberries, custard hand pies, whatever is handheld and easy to bring to your mouth.

then once youre more distracted by eating than talking, hell start handing you huge croissants stuffed with cream and fruits, different flavors of cale slices, mini fruit parfaits.

and then, unexpectedly, you turn around from where youre sitting in his lap. 'try some su!' you cajole as he denies over and over.

'theyre for you to feel better, not me.' he argues, but you whine.

'you wanna know what would make me feel better? if you ate something.'

that finally convinces him to open his mouth and eat a macaron that was left over from the many flavors he bought, and your reply stopped him in his tracks.

'good boy!' you kissed his neck as he swallowed and turned back around like nothing happened.

underneath you, his dick probably twitched and you covered up your evil smile with a spoonful of the two thick slices of triple chocolate cake on the flimsy paper plate in your hands.

'come down here guru, try some of this,'

this time, hes obedient and leans over your shoulder for a bite out of the other rich slice you hadnt touched yet.

'here, some more.' another forkful and suddenly youre putting bite after bite of cake in front of his mouth and hes willingly taking it into his mouth and swallowing.

eventually the two of you are tearing apart the rest of the box.

hed hold a huge glazed donut to your lips that youd finish in two bites, suguru would get four or five pieces of fudge popped into his mouth one after the other.

finally, he moans around a huge frosted cookie being shoved in his mouth and buries his flushed face in your neck.

sugurus breathing hard with crumbs around his mouth while youre swallowing down your last slice of strawberry shortcake that had a thick white glaze across the top of it.

'does your tummy hurt?' you asked, hands already moving down to his distended torso. from personal experience, something as intense as what the two of you just did would always result in you whining for gentle tummy rubs.

'yeah, yeah.' you laid him back on the couch and moved his shirt up for better access.

once you get your hands on the tight skin of his tummy, he moans at first contact and arches his back.

you stop and let him settle before going back to caressing from the bottom of his taut and heavy belly to the top and back down again.

he keeps moaning and writhing, but combined with the way his round tummy poked up definitely added to your little fantasy of getting him pregnant. maybe you could get him to have twins somehow...

i think suguru would cum just from having his full tummy kneaded and massaged, especially with some lotion.

when you notice he moans particularly loud and thrusts his hips up, your eyes are drawn to the wet patch against his jeans.

youd tease him a bit, then order takeout (the sandwich could be saved for another day). its probably something meant for a full family that the two of you devour, then migrate to the bed to lazily fuck and cuddle.

thats my little soapbox spiel heehee, i hope you enjoyed it ^_^ and feel free to add on!!

It's been 4 billion years oh my gosh...hungry anon save me hungry anon

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 42 | Part 43 | Part 44

They do eventually get their waffles. Steve had brought her to his favorite diner, even though it’s a little farther away, and the payoff is almost immediate. El gets a waffle the size of her face that’s absolutely smothered in whipped cream and chocolate chips. She digs in with a ferocity that almost scares Steve as he tucks into his own breakfast-for-dinner.

A sudden thought occurs to him, and he leans in to speak to El. “El?”

She looks up at him, eyebrows raised, cheeks puffed like a chipmunk. He chuckles. “Maybe try taking smaller bites. Your waffle’s not gonna run away.” He grins when she swallows and grins at him. “I’m gonna call the house real quick. D’you wanna stay here, or come with me?” He points to the phone tucked into the corner of the diner, in clear view of their booth.

She twists her napkin in her hands, then almost nervously looks at him. “With you?”

“Okay,” he agrees easily. “D’you wanna talk to anyone?”

She shakes her head. “I just wanna stay by you.”

“That’s okay,” Steve promises her. “Ready?”

She nods, and together they stand, moving towards the phone.

He dials the number and waits, widening his eyes comically at El until she giggles.

The phone goes to voicemail, which he expected, so he sing-songs into the receiver, “Hello, it’s me, Robbie, pick up please!”

“Steve!” She gasps after a click and a cacophony of noises that has him wincing and pulling the phone away from his ear a little. El giggles again at that. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Practicing with El at the junkyard. Now we’re getting waffles at Jackie’s.”

Robin groans, and he grins. “Steve! You traitor! That’s my favorite!”

“Robin.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re being dramatic.”

She gasps. Dramatically. “I am reacting appropriately to something of this magnitude, Steven!” She hisses, but she can’t hide the smile in her voice. God, Steve loves her so much.

“We’re okay, Robs,” he says quietly, like somehow it’ll say everything he wants to.

Based on the way she gets quiet, too, Steve thinks she knows exactly what he means. “I’m glad.”

“We’re gonna finish eating then go practice a little more. We’ll be home after that, before sundown. Promise.”

“I’m holding you to that. I will find your nailbat and bring it if I have to.”

“Jokes on you,” he says, “I already have it.”

“Fine, then I’ll bring Nancy and her guns,” Robin responds. “And probably Wayne. The guy’s really cool. And he can shoot.”

Steve chuckles. “How’s he holding up?”

Robin sighs. “About as well as can be expected. Better, actually, I think. I think maybe at this point he’s seen so much shit that nothing surprises him anymore.”

Steve snorts. “I know how that feels.”

She hums, distracted. “Sure,” she says, then addresses Steve. “Alli wants to talk to you.”

“Okay.”

“Hey, Bubba,” comes next, and he’s smiling before he realizes it.

“Hey, Al. How’re you feeling?”

“Fine. Terrified. Pissed off. Ready to tear him apart with my bare hands.”

“I think if we’d had you last time, we would’ve won.”

“Oh, definitely,” she says flippantly. “Listen, Bubba, can I offer you some advice?”

“Sure.”

“You and Eddie. Whatever you are, whatever you want to be. Don’t wait, okay? Say something. Tonight, preferably. Just- we’re all gonna make it, I know we are. But I don’t want you to regret not saying something when you could’ve.”

Steve’s heart clenches, and he tugs El in gently to envelop her in a one-armed hug. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “I will. Promise.”

“M’kay. Love you, Bubba. Be safe.”

“Love you. I will.”

The line goes dead, and he places the phone back on the hook.

“Steve?” He looks down at her. “Are you okay?”

He chuckles roughly. “Ask me again tomorrow, kiddo.”

They finish their food—El cleans her plate so thoroughly Steve is convinced she must’ve snuck away to wash it, and tells her so, resulting in another giggle—and head back out to the junkyard. “We don’t have much time,” he tells her as he parks again. “I told Robin we’d be home before dark. But this should be enough time to practice a little more. Whatever you felt earlier, whatever was in your chest keeping you company. Try to find it again, and draw from it, okay?”

“Okay,” she murmurs, looking out over the cars again.

He looks, too, and thinks he sees something, but by the time his eyes pan over the spot again, it just looks like a car. He plays it off as nerves and a trick of the setting sun and does his best to relax, so he’s not interrupting El at all.

He keeps his eyes peeled, and contemplates grabbing his bat from the trunk, but ultimately decides against it. He doesn’t think the demodogs would come out during the day.

Suddenly a demodog jumps on top of a car in front of them, and another appears to their left as two appear to their right, and Steve has time to think, famous last words, before it all goes to shit.

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[absolutepokemontrash]

ouu reqs are open- imagine explaining cuteness aggression to the bros omg- like yes i love you so so much I want to squeeze you like a stress ball and but you in a blender <3

Ah, yes, the “you’re so cute I’m going to squish you” feeling.

Cuteness Aggression!

Lucifer

What Lucifer didn’t expect to hear this morning was “YOU’RE SO CUTE WHAT THE FUCK I WANT TO PUNCH YOU!”

…Is MC okay? What was he doing?? He just had a bit of whipped cream on the tip of his nose…

MC quickly explains the concept of cuteness aggression, basically something might be so cute our bodies and brains don’t know how to react to this, so the only thing it can think to do is “hurt this thing so it stops being cute!”

Lucifer blinks a few times then slowly nods. Well, you learn something new every day. His next course of action is to never be too adorable again.

Mammon

“YOU’RE SO SWEET MAMMON I JUST WANT TO BREAK YOUR SWEET LITTLE FACE!” Eh?!?! What the fuck human?!

Mammon is actively scooting away from MC as they try and explain what they mean. So uh… something is so cute they have to murder it?

Haha… fun… hey human, WHAT’S THAT! Mammon took that opportunity to flee. He can’t let his cause of death be his own adorableness.

Leviathan

Levi is well versed in the ways of cuteness aggression, he and MC were once sitting in his room and Ruri-Chan did something really wholesome, and Levi straight up broke the glass he was holding.

As MC helped bandaged his bleeding hand, they helpfully explained exactly why he had that reaction to something so adorable. (Other than the explanation that he’s a simp but whatever-)

Levi just sort of nods along and wonders why his own body would betray him… why wouldn’t his own brain accept pure cuteness..?

Satan

Now, Satan knows what cuteness aggression is, he just wasn’t expecting to be a victim of it. When MC suddenly grabbed his cheeks and started squeeing.

“SAAAAAATAAAAAAAAN YOU’RE JUST SO CUTE!!!!!” “M-MC! Get off!”

They almost knocked over his tea and they scared the cat off his lap! >:( but what’s this about him being cute? He tries to act dismissive, but from the blush on his cheeks MC can tell that he’s flattered.

Asmodeus

Both Asmo and MC let out a shriek mid-way through doing each other’s nails before hugging each other (careful not to mess up their nails)

“YOU’RE JUST SO CUTE ASMO!” “YOU TOO MC!” “I just wanna shake you and pinch your face!” “I wanna just eat you up!”

Both are just two smitten morons completely desensitized to each other’s… strange confidence.

Beelzebub

“Beel.” “Yeah?” “Beel? I love you. I wanna crush your spine.” “…I’d like it if you didn’t.”

Beel is confused, but you know what’s less confusing? The spaghetti he’s eating, he offers some to MC as they explain that they didn’t actually mean it and they were just exaggerating.

He just sort of nods along with this explanation, but he is happy that MC finds him cute, most people just find Beel intimidating :(

Belphegor

Okay MC what in the fresh hell did they just say to him?

“Belphie, your sleeping face is so adorable I just wanna smother you.” “…MC what the FUCK-”

He was drowsy before by boy howdy is he awake now! Belphie just frantically inches away as MC desperately tries to explain what they meant, then Belphie stops moving and says “psh, like you could hurt me anyway. Night, MC.”

(Hurt him, MC)

[mystic-sky]

Summary: Gojo sneaks into your dorm cause he sort of “misses” you. Oh, and Shoko’s there too.

Pairings: Gojo Satoru/reader/Shoko Ieiri

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings/Tags: Minors DNI, NSFW, threesome, cream pie. If you weren’t gay for Shoko before you will be after this.

yeah no one asked me for this lmaooo, but it’s Shoko loving hours✨

Shoko Ieiri is deep in sleep on your bedroom floor, surrounded by half eaten snacks and DVDs. After a girl’s night in, she felt too tired to walk just two doors down to her own room and crawl into her bed. So here she was, inhabiting your extra futon on a school night.

You’re dozing off just 2 hours past midnight. That is, until you heard a few light taps at your window. The sounds peck you out of your light slumber, making you groan and slide downwards underneath the comforter, assuming it’s a tree or a bird. The noise persists further, making you groan an even louder and irritated noise. Finally you sit up, crankily sliding out of bed. You stare at Shoko enviously, who is un-phased by the noise.

You slide the blinds open on the sliding doors, jumping back at the large frame peering back at you. You clutch your chest, before letting out a large heave, unlocking the glass pane door.

“You scared the living shit out of me,” you whisper-yelled.

Satoru leans against the doorway, staring back at you in baggy night clothes. “Yo.”

You’re staring at him with tired eyes.

“What the hell do you want?” You whisper.

“I missed you,” his hand reaches the back of your head, pressing a kiss to your forehead before casually brushing past you.

This was normal, you suppose. He’d snuck into the girl’s dorm at the school countless times to sleep with you. You both weren’t dating, only frisky classmates. You did however enjoy the spontaneous pop ups.

“Shoko’s here.” You say simply as he tosses his phone on your desk. “And you should’ve texted me.”

You’re still standing there with the patio door open, thinking he’d leave as soon as he saw her there.

“My bad,” he’s smiling cheekily at you. “And I couldn’t sleep, so I came here to spend the night.”

You sigh and shut the door, realizing he was definitely staying. You pull the blinds shut as he removes his sweatshirt and slides. He lets out a whine as he realizes what Shoko is sleeping on. 

“My futon...” he whines. He’s so bothered by it. He never slept on the thing either; you stole it from him a while back.

You aren’t worried about Shoko waking up in the morning to him in your bed, she’s seen it all before. She can hardly understand your infatuation with Satoru. But, she’s a pro at minding her business. A good friend overall, considering boys are forbidden from being in the girls dorm after hours. 

You ignore him, and brush past his lanky body to climb back into your bed. He follows, squeezing onto it with you. It was barely full sized— somehow still the largest in the girls dorm, resulting in majority of your hook ups to be in your room. Sometimes, Shoko would crawl in bed with you, and sometimes you two would do more than sleep together on school nights.

You’re so tired, so groggy as he snuggles into you. The deepest hum pours into your ear. His strong bare arms are intoxicating, the way they wrap around you like he needs you— but he doesn’t. He typically acts like he doesn’t need anyone actually, so when he clings to you like this it sort of throws you off. But you know he’s just indulging in human touch. It’s not such a serious thing to him. He’s such an airhead. You know he’d never actually go out with you. 

“You and Shoko had all the fun without me...” He whines it, and it’s pretty loud. He doesn’t care if she wakes up. He’s already hard and his length is stabbing your back. 

“We didn’t do anything,” you say simply. His hand slides up your shirt, and his finger tips are cold. They sting the flesh of your breasts, but your body’s so hot you don’t even flinch. “And your hands are freezing.”

One of your nipples harden into the center of his palm and he feels it, using his thumb and index finger to squeeze and pull at the thing.

“Ah, so I made the both of you wait long? I’m sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry at all. You roll your eyes, and he can’t even see you do it but he laughs anyway.

“One day,” he purrs, and the sound is enough to send chills up your spine.

“Like she’d ever sleep with trash like you,” you scoff, turning around and wrapping an arm around his neck.

“Your jealousy is showing.” You finally get to see his toothy grin.

“Hardly,” you roll your eyes again. You don’t allow him to speak any more, pressing your tired lips against his. The movement is groggy— a sleepy lovers kiss of sorts if you’ve ever had one. He’s tired himself, but his ever growing bulge won’t let him rest in his own dorm. 

“A quick fuck, so we can sleep.” Satoru says the words so quickly, but he doesn’t miss your nod. 

“We have a 9AM,” you feel inclined to remind him about your class in the morning. Your hands are trailing up his back, feeling along the muscles.

He hums before sliding down beneath your comforter, disappearing from your side. His finger tips are warmer now, wrapping around the hem of your pants. You realize what’s happening, and shift your body to help him slide them down. His mouth is buried in your sex in seconds, making you grip the blanket above your head to watch him eat it beneath the covers. It’s not like you can see much though, but you love to hear the sound of his tongue on you. 

It’s a loud noise even though he’s muffled. You let out soft whimpers as not to wake Shoko. He loves to suck on your clit more than anything. He gives soft licks in between to relieve your center from the extreme stimulation but it doesn’t do much. The pattern edges you every time, and he does it on purpose. He says it makes you restless and a lot more needy for him.

He hums his mouth against your clit, making you roll your hips into him.

“Put it in already,” you’re teething at the edge of the blanket, but he hears you nonetheless.

He rises up, chin running a muck of juices with the blanket over his head like it’s a veil. It was weird how his eyes would ignite like that in the dark, like they were made of that glow in the dark fluid. The moonlight finally poured over the clouds, giving the room a bit of light.

“Pretty boy,” you say quietly, spreading your legs in front of him. 

“You think so?” He’s quick to lather up two fingers in his mouth before plugging them in you. He sits there, flicking upwards against the resisting flesh of your walls, making you wriggle in pleasure. 

“You’ll wake Shoko with a pussy this loud,” he’s immersed in the slick covering his hand with every motion. You head locks onto the girl on the floor whose back faces you both, shoulders rising and falling softly.

“Unless you wanna,” he withdraws his fingers from you, sucking tightly on them before releasing them with a pop. “Dirty girl.”

He’s sliding his raw length against you now, “So wet for me too.”

You’re bobbing your hips downward towards him, nibbling at your bottom lip, anxiously waiting to be penetrated. “Mhmm...” 

Disagreeing with him would only slow down the process.

“That’s right,” he’s hunching over you now, flicking his hard tip against your soaked cunt.

“Now gimme a kiss,” the taste of you is still prominent on his tongue as he cups your face to kiss you. He slides himself into you while still attached to your mouth, feeling your tongue and body contract from the penetration. He’s shuddering into you softly, sucking and pulling on your bottom lip. He gives you air after the first few plunges into your sex, forcing semi-loud sounds from your throat.

The feeling of his curved length is always welcome, stretching you out just right. He knows that you’re so whipped, no matter how much you ignore him at school or pretend to be annoyed with him. When he has you like this, drooling for him, he knows he could probably convince you to do anything. 

The sound of skin slapping skin was thankfully  muffled by the blanket over the both of you. The bed is creaking slightly as he speeds up. You and Satoru would make it a habit to fuck on the futon you took from him to avoid excessive noise at night. 

“I can’t go as fast as I want to,” he grits. He’s frustrated about noise all of a sudden. 

“You should’ve waited until tomorrow, now I’m all worked up. Hurry up and finish.”

“Believe me, I’m trying sweetheart.” 

“Do you both talk this much all the time when you do it?”

The futon speaks, or rather, the young woman now sitting upwards on top of it did. She’s rubbing her eyes and shifting from underneath her blanket. 

“For fucks sake,” she muttered. Satoru smirks wildly, making you slap his arm.

“Sorry Sho,” you say sheepishly. She hardly looks angry at you. Her own eyes are warm and tired as she crawls over to the edge of the bed right beside you.

“It’s okay,” the words are sweet like honey on her tongue. She’s never been angry at you for anything. Even in moments she probably should be. Her hair falls against your chest as she brushes her lips against yours, initiating a kiss. 

Her mouth is soft and feathery, and she doesn’t care for Satoru’s presence at all, inserting herself between you both with her kiss. You find yourself sitting up and kissing her back, even with him still between your legs.

Seeing you kiss someone else, especially having that someone be Shoko, was a different kind of attractive. Still inside of you, Satoru pumped slowly while she hung over the edge of the bed mouthing you off. A sweet moan from you poured into her mouth, her favorite sound, making her smile against you. 

She parts her lips from you, and the look you give her is so smothered and needy. You wanted her in this bed with you too.

“Please,” you whine to her. And she can’t think to say no because it’s you. 

“Of course,” she’s willingly removing her shirt for you. She’s confident about her body, stripping just for you. You nudge Satoru, who separates from you in order to make space for her. She climbs in beside you, making herself comfortable.

“Why don’t you sit back and watch for a bit,” her lips curl into a smile, using a single foot to push him back onto his knees. 

“Beat your cock or something, whatever men do,” she smiles smugly. He laughed deeply before nodding.

“Give me a show,” his voice is low when he says it, positioning himself at the end of the bed. He obediently starts stroking his length covered with your fluids. You on the other hand are waiting for something— anything to help yourself cum. Shoko feels you spread your legs as she presses her hot, bare breasts against your ribs. Her fingers are so slim and smooth, sliding between your folds to play in your slickness.

“Let’s show him how fast I make you cum,” she lowers her voice, blowing air into your ear. She spread goosebumps across your arms and legs, adding a kiss just beneath your ear. You nod loosely.

Her fingers rub delicate, rhythmic circles on your clit. Her mouth is on yours again, tonguing you down while he watches ravenously. Soft squeals pass through your lips while you roll yours hips at her silk touch. 

Two of her nimble fingers prod at your entrance while her tongue swirls around your own. You moan greedily, asking her to stimulate you further by using your body. 

She knows what you want, she always does. And that’s why she pumps them into you, curling at your center. With each curve of smooth padded fingertips against slick flesh, several sounds emanate throughout the room. Ragged breathing, ragged moaning, dick stroking, wet mouths— wet sounds.

Its a lude feeling, being watched like this. They both want nothing more than to ravish you, and you feel it through Satoru’s piercing arctic eyes and Shoko’s refined touch. She’s immersed in you, climbing half way over you while she continues to pump your sex. Her hard nipples irritatedly rub against yours while she pours her tongue into your mouth. She feeds off of your moans, humming back in affirmation. She knows you’re going to cum, you don’t have to say anything to hint at it.

Your cunt splashes against her palm while your body rolls against her. She pulls away to watch your eyes fall back. Sweet relief at last, you think, but she’s hardly done with you.

Shoko pulls her hand from your slimy cunt, laughing softly as she slides her tongue between the two sullied fingers.

“You got all that?” Shoko says, peering back at Satoru, who had been gritting his teeth at the two naked women in front of him.

“Mhmm,” he chuckles. “And are you questioning my ability to make her cum?”

He’s not actually offended, but he’d give anything to put this chick in her place. 

“You were talking a whole lot more than anything else.” She teases, now looking back at you. You’re panting at the two of them, twitching and aching for more like the spoiled brat you are. “Can you get up?” Shes asks.

You nod, pushing what you could of your upper body up. She runs both hands through her hair so confidently, she almost intimidates the both of you. “Good. And you’re gonna be on the bottom, since I can’t stand hearing you talk.” 

She says this without even looking at Satoru, moving over to allow him space to lay between you both. He chuckles, not really paying attention to the insult. “Optimizing the space? I get it now.” 

He lays back flat, arrogantly resting his head against his arms. “Choose your slot, ladies.” 

Shoko rolls her eyes, swinging her leg to hover her steaming sex over his face. You realize what’s happening as she opts you to straddle his lower half. You waste no time, sinking yourself onto his length and shuddering from the extra ripples of pleasure from your previous orgasm. You grip Satoru’s torso for support, nearly resting your head on Shoko’s shoulder. This prompts a moan from him, and the sound has this low growl in it. You clench yourself around him, soaking in the feeling some more.

Shoko wants to see your face while you rock against his length. She pushes your body up, and her eyes are soft on you. You were truly what she craved. Your weak and furrowed brows, your needy expression— everything about you made her ache. She takes your bruised lips in for a wet kiss, sucking on your bottom lip.

“You’ve got a pretty pussy,” Satoru says, blowing cool air against Shoko’s glistening slit.

“All the more reason for you to shut up and eat it,” she parts her lips from yours for only a second to say this. You feel her lower her cunt onto his tongue as she deepens your kiss. He chuckles again. 

“You’re so mean Shoko...” he fake whines. He wraps his mouth around her drenched clit, sucking on it as if he had something to prove. The repeated sucks force a loud moan from her lips and the sound pours onto your own. The song of his scorching tongue against her sex finds your ears, making you rock on onto his sex more with far more need than before.

He’s humming delightedly against her as her slickness pours down his throat. He releases his suction and replaces it with consecutive licks, giving her a break from the almost violent prior stimulation. She’s surprised, bewildered by her classmate’s seemingly flawless pussy eating talent. The short interaction showed her why you tolerated him at least a little bit. She swung her head back, scarfing back a moan as you wrapped a hand around one her breasts, tugging at her erect nipple.

Satoru is merely a prop at this point, allowing the both of you to make a mess on top of him. The experience is somewhat of a dream, as it may be for most men. He’s on cloud nine with the two of you on top of him like this.

You can hear him snickering beneath her as you rock weakly on his length, he was clearly proud of himself. She’s not shy on suffocating him in response, pushing more of her weight against him. He welcomes the action, groaning  at the taste of her dribbling down his chin. He welcomes the action by stuffing his tongue inside of her, earning the highest of pitches from the brunette.

It’s the hottest scene for you, seeing her pant above him like that, but she never takes her eyes off of you. Her mouth his wet, and her gaze pours over your a naked body as your breasts bounce all for her to see. She loved it like this; the best view in her opinion. She sticks out her tongue, practically begging you to suck on it. 

You can hardly deny her looking like this, attaching your mouth onto hers again. 

“(Name)...” she moans your name so punily against you, eyes partially open and glossy with pleasure. She’s dangerously close to orgasming, and Satoru is eerily telepathic. He applies his suction again, humming in affirmation for her to cum for the both of you. 

He reaches one hand to settle against her hip while his other hand firmly holds her upper thigh, somewhat locking her in place. He sloppily buries his face into her while her cunt squelches against his mouth. Keen on making a grand first impression, he worms a hand underneath her and dips two of his large fingers into her sex. Her mouth pops off your yours, throwing her head back as he curls his digits inside the bundle of flesh. She splashes against him, sullying his face. He ejects his fingers, drinking up most of what she creamed out onto his face.

Collapsing in the crook of your neck, her hot breath ignited your body even more, making you rock against Satoru’s length with fevor.

“Fuck, that’s sexy...” He released his mouth from her, groaning between clenched teeth. 

You’re under the impression that Shoko’s done for the night while you attempt you give yourself a final orgasm on top of him. Her hot mouth connects with your neck, sucking and dragging her soft lips against your fiery skin. 

A decadent moan passes your lips, and she hums against you. “Pretty girl, let me spoil you some more...” 

Feathery lips glide down your neck and chest as you brace back, still grinding away. She rolls one of your nipples against her tongue, palming your free mound for you while you focus on reaching your high. Raising her ass from the nest that was Satoru’s face, she smirks at the mess of fluids on his chin that she made, feeling a bit too proud of herself. She crawls up behind your body, pressing her boiling skin and still erect nipples against your back. You relax into her delicate touch, holding one of the hands that groped your breasts for you. 

“Tapping out?” Satoru asks, watching the two of you seemingly phase him out yet again. You’re rocking into him, but seeking so much attention from her. 

“No, I’m prioritizing this sweet lamb of mine,” the words drip from her lips like molasses. Her lips meet your neck yet again, nipping her teeth against the skin before sucking in a way that would surely leave a mark on you. 

“Yours huh?” Satoru grits his teeth. He was inches away from his orgasm just from watching the both of you all over each other like that. His large and calloused fingers grip you hips, guiding your loose humping above him.

“Mhmm,” Shoko hums softly. She doesn’t actually care about laying claim to you. You came to her for a different kind of sex— something he couldn’t provide. “Isn’t that right, (Name)?”

You’re entirely faded, head being cocked back on her shoulder for support, only begging her for extra stimulation. She knows this all too well, sticking two of her fingers into your mouth. 

She plays with your tongue shortly before pulling a string of saliva from you. She places her glossy fingers on your clit for you, rubbing in intricate circles. 

The smooth rhythm along with being filled up with his ever-twitching length finally spirals you into another orgasm, one that had been poking at your insides for a while now. You quiver on his length, throwing an arm back to caress Shoko’s hair while you ride it out. She’s moaning with you; she knows how good you’re feeling right now. 

The room is hot and loud with moans, and Satoru can no longer hold his crowning load. His fingers are squeezing (a bit too hard) at your waist, almost bruising you as his toes curl in ecstasy. Watching Shoko grind her naked body against yours was something he would engrave into his brain. She claimed you were the spoiled one. He could argue otherwise, having gotten to see the both of you like this. 

“Fuck,” he breathes out. Thick wads painted the insides of your searing flesh, so much that you were already leaking onto his lap. 

“Good little lamb,” her hot breath finds your ear as your grinding finally subsides. She draws her fingers from you, soundly licking up the juices in your ear.

Your body twitches as it relaxes into her chest. She turns your head for a messy kiss, making your groan against her tongue. Satoru sits back up on his elbows, pushing some of his hair out of his face— as if he did much during this entire interaction.

Shoko gets from behind you, plopping in the space closest to the wall. You rise off his length, weakly motioning him to move over to lay between them.

“This bed is barely big enough for the three of us,” Satoru snickers, snaking an arm over both of your waists.

“You could always go sleep on your futon,” Shoko says, quick to remove his hand from her hip as she reaches for the comforter to cover your bodies. Satoru scowls a bit.

“Yeah, I bet you’d like that.” He rolls his eyes, snuggling closer against you. 

“Yeah~ you could use your futon.” You sleepily  slur, closing your eyes.

“Not you too,” he says quietly into the crook of your neck. 

There was more groggy and teasing conversation, not that the three of you would remember it when the morning came. You all slept in far past your 9AM class together. The best part though, was probably waking up to a half naked Satoru asleep on the futon in the morning. You and Shoko kicked him off the bed throughout the night, and he gave up on trying to separate your bodies from one another.

[aghostpost]

The Hard-J (Victor Creed x Reader)

A/N: I know I said it would be ready by the weekend but... it wasn’t! Excuses only work for those that make them, so I won’t bother lmao~ This one is for @queengiuliettafirstlady and everyone else that loves a little Victor Creed intensity. ♥

“Can we not do this today, please?”

“What the hell was that about?” He slammed the door after him as I went to my kitchen to put groceries away. 

“He saw me walking back from the store, that’s it.”

“That’s it, huh? What did I say about hangin’ out with him?”

“We weren’t hanging out! I told you, he saw me walking and he was helping me carry a few things. That. Is it.”

“You see how he talks to me? How he’s always talked to me-“

“-I see two brothers who, for whatever reason, can’t seem to hack it.”

“We aren’t brothers.”

I rolled my eyes, shoving my peanut butter and fudge swirl ice cream into the freezer. “Brothers in arms.”

“Because there’s no damn respect! Always lookin’ down at me like he’s some kinda fuckin’ superior.”

“Vic…”

“I don’t want you around him. You hear me?”

I let out an exasperated sigh as I rolled my eyes. “It’s too hot to argue about this shit.”

“You’re the one arguing instead of just agreeing, Y/N.”

“Your relationship with Logan is just that: yours. I have no problem with the guy.”

“If I see you two together again-“

“- Do not end that sentence with a threat, Victor-“

“- I’ll do you one better and end it with a guaran-fucking-tee!”

“We live in the same city, I’m bound to run into him sometimes!”

“Y/N look at me… Hey!” He shouted, making me jump out of my skin as I gave him my undivided attention. Clearly he was serious, which he tended to be. But this time, more serious than normal.

He was always so very dead serious whenever we talked about Logan.

“I don’t care if you’re next door neighbors with him. If I see you two with each other again, it will not end well.”

“For him? Or for me?”

“Both o’ you.”

I stared him down and watched him do the same, his face cold hard steel, not even a muscle flexing as he spoke to me. “What the hell happened between you two, anyway?” I asked. “What did he do that’s so damn bad you’re forbidding me to even say hi? He kill your cat or somethin’?”

He smirked and let out a huff of a chuckle, his left fang peeking from behind his lips. “You think I’m kiddin’?”

I rolled my eyes and pushed him away from me to continue putting the food away. “Yeah, sure. Whatever. I’ll stay away from him, Victor. Whatever the hell makes-” I couldn’t finish my sentence before I heard the loud crash of glass breaking. I whipped around and saw a wet puddle dripping on my wall, the floor beneath it decorated with broken glass and what was a very nice bouquet of assorted flowers. “Are you shitting me?!”

“Oh, I got your attention now?”

“You had it! You’re throwing a temper tantrum, breaking my shit, all because you’re jealous of someone I’m not even interested in?”

“Jealous?” he questioned as he slowly stalked towards me, like a predator carefully eyeing its prey. I was no stranger to Victor's temper; under the right circumstances, he could go from settled to up in flames with the snap of a finger. Maybe it’s because he was never really at ease, always ready to pounce at any moment’s notice if necessary. Yeah, I know he has little patience and is kinda trigger happy to get into a fight, his own source of entertainment. But that was with other people, strangers. With me, he exercised a lot more restraint. We’d have arguments, he’d yell, maybe hurt a wall and then storm off.

But whenever Logan was involved, it was a different story...

“You need to relax,” I warned as I slowly backed away from him, ready to defend myself if necessary, even if I knew it was a losing battle. 

“Did you just say I was jealous of him?”

“Are you?”

“What reason do I have to be jealous?”

“You tell me. What is it, Vic? You think I’m gonna run off with him into the sunset? You come over here one day to see me, all my shit is packed up and I leave a note behind? I doubt he’d throw my shit around like you just did.”

“I bought you those damn flowers,” he growled.

“You gonna buy the replacements too?” I asked playfully, trying to diffuse the tension but failing. It was painfully obvious, literally, he wasn’t in the mood to play when I felt his fist grip me like a boa constrictor. He forced my head against the kitchen cabinet behind me and got close to my face. If he moved any closer he’d be able to taste the chive cream cheese bagel I had on the way over here. 

“Now that all depends…”

“Victor, let go of me. Now.”

“What’s the matter, hm? I thought you liked it rough?” he spoke with a tone of warning before a lecherous grin spread across his face. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t release a flutter deep in my belly, my incessant desire for him threatening to surface. It was embarrassing and admittedly disgusting to me, how even in moments as such, there was always going to be some shred of me that could neither ignore nor deny my constant thirst for him to satisfy me in ways only Victor knew how.

“You’ve made your point.” I tried to remain calm while fighting for air. I was willing to bet money that he could feel my pulse quickening beneath his grip. If even one of his claws came out I’d be bleeding out all over the linoleum.

“Have I?”

“You have five seconds to get the fuck off of me... or I walk.” He stared me in the eye only a few seconds longer before relinquishing his grip. If there was anything I caught on to in the seven months we’ve been seeing each other, if that’s even what you wanna call him dropping by for food, sex and quality conversation with a solid night’s rest, it’s that he actually greatly enjoyed having me in his life. He would never admit it, of course, being the poster boy for hypermasculinity; no way he’d display the level of emotion required to confess he liked me. But I picked up on it in subtle ways he probably doesn’t even notice. The way he throws his arm over me in his sleep, subconsciously keeping me in place with him. The way he came over and pretended it was just for sex, when we wouldn’t wind up having sex at all. The flowers he bought me, before throwing them to the wall in a rage. Most importantly, the way he wouldn’t stay gone long after a fight and would come back with his tail tucked in ready to apologize, afraid that would be the fight that finally scared me off and into the arms of someone else. I wasn’t using that to my advantage here, but I was letting him know what we both knew but never spoke of:

He wanted me around. He liked me.

I took a moment to allow oxygen to return to my lungs before I addressed him. “I pushed a button o’ yours with that little J-word?”

“What on Earth gave you that idea?” he asked sarcastically.

I nodded. “Fine. Noted. But I promise you, next time you use your words, because if you ever think about putting your hands on me again-”

“-Now you’re ending sentences with threats?”

“Guarantees, right?” I stalked to the corner of the kitchen and grabbed the broom that was wedged between the wall and my fridge then slammed it into his chest. “Dust pan behind the fridge,” was all I said before making my way to the bedroom.

“We’re not done-”

“-I am.” The moment I turned the corner out of the kitchen he was following me, the broom loudly clapping against the kitchen floor. The same hand that was just wrapped tightly around my throat was now finding its way around my waist along with his other one, pressing me to the wall. “Victor-“

“-I’ll getcha new flowers.”

“Fuck the flowers and fuck you.” He wasn’t hearing any of it. He grabbed my wrists and began making his way to the couch, my legs clumsily bumping into any and everything I walked towards. 

“I’m not gonna pour my heart out an’ tell you all the fucked up things about me, if that’s what you’re waitin’ for me to do.”

“Mutant in human world. It’s not hard to figure out.”

“And I’m not tellin’ you the textbook of reasons I’m not holdin’ hands with him either.”

“And I’m not agreeing to stay away from him for your reasons and personal grudges unknown.”

“So maybe I didn’t make myself as clear as I thought.” Before I was aware the back of my legs bumped into the arm of my couch. I was desperate to create some sort of distance between us, so I fell backwards and wiggled away to the far opposite end of the couch. He stood at my feet and without breaking eye contact, lifted the loose black henley from his chest. He was possibly the only person I knew that could wear black and long sleeves in the peak of a summer in the city without breaking a sweat. But now wasn’t the time to be impressed by minor things.

“It’s too hot for this, too.”

“You tellin’ me no?”

“Yes!”

“Why?” he asked as he continued advancing in my direction, fumbling with the belt on his jeans as he kicked his shoes off.

“Because I don’t feel like it. You’re not about to makeup sex your way out of putting your hands on me, dick.”

He shrugged to himself. “You never turned it down before.”

“Well, you know what they say the definition of insanity is, right…”

“Doin’ the same shit, expecting different results.”

“And I want different results, Victor.”

“Fine. So let’s try somethin’ different.” Without a word or warning he bent down and scooped me up, a hand firmly resting under each of my thighs, my legs snaked around his waist. I thought he was headed towards the bedroom, but he took a surprising left turn to the apartment balcony, gripping me tightly before using a hand to open the sliding glass door. The humidity instantly smothered me, my glasses fogging from the shock of being exposed to the summer heat after leaving my air conditioned living room. He sat in one of the wicker seats of my patio set and placed me in his lap, lifting my sundress so I could straddle him free of obstruction. He placed me directly onto his cock and was not gentle about it; my head instantly fell back as a rush of air escaped my chest, my hands finding his neck. 

“Fuck,” I whispered.

“Exactly.”

“Shut the hell up.” There was no time for playful banter. The sun had only just started to set, meaning there was still plenty daylight for us to be seen; this had to be quick. And quiet. Quiet would be the hard part without a doubt. With his help, I lifted my body up and down, his fingertips digging into my hips as he held tightly to my waist. “Holy shit, Vic.”

“Still think I’m jealous?”

I grinned to myself. “I dunno; you’re fuckin’ me like you got somethin’ to prove,” I teased. Clearly there was jealousy but I knew better than to answer him with a yes. But if jealousy is this good a sexual motivator, I’d be happy with this silver lining to our fight. He lifted my dress up more, enough for him to expose my tits and seize my right one with his mouth. My head fell back, a cry escaping me when I felt the sharp stab of his teeth on the mound of flesh. “Fuck!” He growled, his mouth vibrating slightly around my nipple. 

“Ya still gonna run away and leave a note?” he asked, the heat from his mouth making toes curl.

“Never.” Unless he pushed me to it, of course. 

I felt the pads of his fingertips press my scalp, my hair tightly intertwined in his digits as he pulled my head back and forced me to make eye contact. “Don’t threaten to walk again.”

I rolled my eyes. “Or else?” I mocked.

He shook his head, his pelvis ceasing, the rapid rise and fall of our chests the only movement remaining between us. “No. Just don’t.”

I stared at him a moment longer and simply nodded before standing and turning around, lifting my dress over my head, then taking the rusty balcony rail in my hands to steady myself. I turned to look at him; to my surprise he was already stroking himself in the absence of something else warm wrapped around his cock. “Whatcha waitin’ for?”

“Can’t enjoy the view?”

“Enjoy it any longer and I’m gonna melt.”

“Someone other than me hungry for it?” he said with a hard slap to my right cheek before roughly re-entering from behind, making me jerk forward into the hot metal rail. I grunted at the pain in effort not to be too loud and settled comfortably on him, my body fitting him like a glove. He was in no way gentle as he thrust himself in and out of me, primal grunts escaping his chest every time his hips rammed into my ass. My tits would surely be bruised the way I was uncomfortably pressed into the railing. I stared at the rusted and flaking metal coating of the bars beneath my arms and fought to keep my legs from collapsing beneath me, every bone in my limbs turning to apple sauce, my muscles sore and aching. If only this kind of workout kept me in shape and was doctor recommended. And quiet as I was, there was nothing I could do to muffle the loud smack that echoed in the air when Victor got slap happy, or the sound that came from my mouth as a result. The funny thing was, the more I tried to shush him, the more intensely he fucked me, and the more sound we both ended up making. 

“Sss, holy fuck! Fuck fuck fuck, Vic! Shit!” I cried out, the restraint I had for my volume loosening. On a slower day I would have had a bit more self control, but I never lasted long, or quietly, when he was in a more animalistic mood.

“Mm, that’s right,” he grunted, digging his fingers into my hip bones. “Lemme have it, baby.” And before I knew it I did exactly that. My legs gave out beneath me and I fell to my knees, failing to hold myself up on the balcony railing any longer as I came. My moans were beyond stifling, and I felt nothing else, not even the pools of sweat pouring out of me. For just a moment I’d fallen into a deep well of ecstasy, my head throbbing from the mix of summer heat and pleasure, before I regained some composure to return the favor. 

I grabbed the thin cushion from my patio chair and placed it at his feet and knelt before him, taking him into my mouth as deep as I could. As hungrily as I could. Without hesitation his hands flew to my head, cradling the back of my skull and maneuvering me to a pace of his pleasure. “Atta girl,” he encouraged. He knew I was a sucker for praise, and after being a complete asshole I was expecting him to lay it on with the ass kissing for the rest of the evening. Now he had me working like I was the jealous one, when really I was only in competition with myself; I wanted to see if I could make him cum quicker than any of the other times I did this. I worked my head in a swivel and both of my hands in opposing twisting motion, pulling him into me as far as I could without biting off more than I could chew. It was useless, however, since Victor was determined to push my head down way past my limits. His hips undulated as he thrust his dick deeper and deeper into my throat. He’d momentarily pause and hold his place before pulling out to allow me to draw air, all before repeating the process. “Look at me,” he demanded, which was all he needed to say for me to know what time it was. I stared upwards at him with his cock still in my mouth, my eyes glassy with tears, and he pushed himself deep into my throat one final time and pumped the tip of his dick at the back of my throat. He held eye contact for as long as he could before his head fell backwards, eyes slamming shut as I felt the muscles of his thighs tighten. He grunted a low, beastlike growl before I felt him release all he had to offer in my throat, the sensation slightly tickling. I slowly jerked his dick off for good measure to ensure I got him for every drop before swallowing the thick, sticky fluid, swirling my tongue around his tip before he removed himself from my mouth. 

“Ah, Jesus fuck,” he sighed, his chest rising and falling as he tried to recover.

“I think I missed that Sunday school lesson.” He rolled his eyes and looked down at me, head still resting in his lap, before rising and extending a hand. I grabbed and he pulled me up, coming face to face with him and the wild grin plastered on his face. “Back inside before my ass gets covered in bug bites.”

“I could scratch it for ya,” he offered, running a claw harmlessly up my spine. I shivered and pushed away from him before round two threatened to begin, sliding the balcony door open, relieved once the ice cold air conditioning hit my chest.

“No thanks. But you absolutely can buy me another bouquet of flowers. And a vase, while you’re at it.”

[bbrandy2002]

Fool’s Rush In

Part 15

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x MC

Warnings: mild violence

Series Premise: With two weeks until Liam is to marry Madeleine – his pick during the social season – the guys throw him a bachelor party in Vegas. After a drunken night, he finds himself with more than he bargained for.

Thanks @burnsoslow​ for the beta read.

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

Supposedly, the more a person suffered in the name of love, the more it showed they really cared. 

At least, that's what Riley thought. 

After nightfall of this particular evening -- when she least expected it -- she never realized how much truth that belief held. 

Or how much it would hurt to sacrifice the one person who made her believe she was worthy of love and saw who she really was on the inside.

Her dainty arm -- a delicate bronze in color, sleek, with a glittering red strap across one shoulder -- linked through the arm of the man she had grown to love more than life itself as they entered the palace ballroom. Working tirelessly over the last week to ensure everything went off without a hitch had taken its toll on her. All she could think about, as she shook hands and charmed dignitaries with a sparkle in those twinkling brown eyes, was how much sleep she planned to make up for after the ball ended.

This ball was to introduce the King and his new bride to the Cordonian court for the first time. A show of solidarity and, hopefully, strength. A way to establish that what happened in a tiny chapel 10,000 miles away weeks ago between two strangers wasn't a careless mistake, and that she could handle the duties bestowed on her as a common American woman. 

Or at least pretend she could for now.

However, for the King and the "Jewel of His Heart" whom he escorted through the curious crowd of pretentious naysayers in extravagant gowns and tuxes, with their fake smiles and tedious posturing ...

It was nothing less than fate. 

Riley was the key that unlocked that safe space deep inside Liam's heart that had been sheltered for so long, waiting for the perfect person to come along and open it. This was the place where he kept his most sacred feelings: a genuine love, never-ending laughter, joy, romance, ecstasy, and every dream he ever held for the future -- one he presumed would never exist in any form he longed for. 

But she didn't just unlock it. Riley shattered it wide open, where everything came flooding out at once and consumed him like a raging wildfire. 

And it was the most remarkable, intoxicating experience of his life. 

Liam showed her off all evening as they mingled during their rounds, danced, and conversed with the variance of nobility. She was the sexiest woman in that room, and he'd dare say the looks of envy shot in his direction from high-class men as he proudly cavorted her around didn't bother him in the least. Not that that was her only quality -- far from it. There were so many things about Riley that were special. But he couldn't help feeling a sense of pride that she was all his.

And without question, he was all hers.

Seated at the head table, Riley swallowed a morsel of the veal medallion she wanted to be served for this occasion. When given a choice between fish and lamb, the fish never stood a chance. The memory of that smelly, god-awful lunch with Regina three weeks ago was not something her palate had forgiven her for yet. As wonderful and savory as this extravagant meal, covered in a light brown mushroom sauce and served with a side of broccoli rabe, was, it couldn't hold a candle to what she craved the most: a slice of white pizza from Carmine's back in Brooklyn.

Or a slab or two of the New Yorker.

With maybe some cheesecake.

Covered in chocolate.

And a sausage rice ball. A Frito pie smothered with sour cream. Definitely a rainbow bagel from The Bagel Store. Barbecue ribs and beans from the mom-and-pop diner hidden just off the strip in Vegas. 

Of course, her grandma’s country fried steak with white gravy sounded delicious too.

For sure, a fried Twinkie like the one she ate at the New York State Fair in 2013. 

"You've outdone yourself, sweetheart," Liam marveled while wiping at the corner of his mouth with a napkin. "The meal was delicious, and our guests appear to be enjoying themselves." The others seated at the table looked up, adding their compliments.

Still dreaming about a fat slice of New York-style pizza, Riley smiled graciously back at him, until she noticed the server refilling Liam’s glass with merlot, causing her to do a double-take. 

Hot tears pooled in her eyes, and a heavy feeling of sadness swelled in her chest as she panicked. "I asked for the Pinot Noir. Not the merlot,” she rasped meekly. “You don't like merlot, Liam. And the Pinot Noir was from the 'C' place where Duke Hakim lives. He'll be so disappointed and think I'm slighting his duchy. They’ll all hate me forever and ... wait a minute." She trailed off as a realization hit her, and Riley quickly glanced down at her plate before scanning each of the dishes from those seated around her.

The anxiety intensified; she could no longer suppress the heartbroken sob that wailed out of her. "Where are all the potatoes? We were supposed to have the potatoes, Liam. They didn’t serve the potatoes. Now the whole night is completely ruined, and it’s all my fault. I'm such a failure as a queen, and you should just send me to the dungeon now and throw away the key. I apologize to all of you for my incompetence and the lack of potatoes with your meal." Riley’s red-hot face, full of tears, plunged into the palms of her hands, then quickly sprung back up as Liam hesitantly tried to place a hand on her shoulder. A strong urge to use the restroom ended her crying spell as if it never happened. “Oh, oh. I gotta pee so bad. I’ll be right back.” She gave a warm smile and excused herself as she pushed her chair back and scurried merrily toward the nearest restroom.

Liam, Regina, Leo, Maxwell, and Olivia watched with confusion as she happily took off, not knowing what to say or what to make of the sudden shift in her moods.

“What the hell was that?” Olivia scowled, her eyes fixed on Liam.

“Is she all right, dear?” a concerned Regina asked.

Liam scratched the back of his head, nearly at a loss for words. “I ... I don’t know. I’ve never seen her that upset … especially over potatoes.” He paused in thought. “She was a little on edge this morning. Still, she’s been working a lot on the preparations and everything else going on. It must have gotten to her.”

Maxwell shrugged. “Maybe she just finally snapped.” 

Leo shook his head, swallowing a forkful of beef. “Or maybe she has the premenstrual syndrome.”

“Leo!” The group admonished.

“What?” Leo bit back, taking in each of their disappointed glares. “Don’t act like it’s not true. Trust me, when I have cramps and bloating, I can go from a happy little Leo to a Bertrand, just like that.” He snapped his fingers, following it up with a frown. “It ain’t pretty, you all.”

Maxwell looked across the table at Liam and agreed, “He has a point.”

Wanting to shed his skin and slither away, Liam pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can we not discuss something so personal and private, especially while several hundred people are dining around us?”

“I’m just saying, little brother, that you need to be understanding and gentle during this special time of your wife’s 'lady business.' You should speak softly and slowly to her because Shark Week messes with a girl's mind, man. Their brains short-circuit, and there’s nothing left up there but a couple of crickets and man-eating rattlesnakes. One second, you think she’s fine, but if you’re not careful, in the next second, you’ll find yourself with two venomous fangs rattling from your nut sack, dude. She will tear you apart and spit you out like a rabid dog. You can make it through these next few days, but only if you take my advice.”

“That is the single dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say,” Olivia spat, boring her eyes into him. “And you’ve said a lot.” She turned to Liam, whose face was slightly pale and void of expression. “Don’t listen to his sexist drivel. Why you haven’t declared him insane yet is beyond me. You should have sent him away with that filthy hairball to Valtoria you had caged earlier.”

“IT WAS MONGO!” Leo erupted, causing the dishes on the table to clatter as he jumped to his feet and hovered over the redhead. Every head in the ballroom whipped around to see what was happening, and a deafening silence filled throughout. Even the orchestra stopped playing their classical tune.

A wide-eyed Regina smiled sheepishly as she glanced out at the quiet audience who were waiting to see what all the fuss was about. She thought fast before calling out, “We were just playing a little game of … 'It was Mongo.'” The former queen snatched Maxwell’s Sunset Rum punch from his hand, thrusting the drink up at her stepson, towering beside her, and instructed in a grandmotherly tone, “Be a good lad, Leo. You lost this round. It's time to chug-a-lug, my boy.” With his face burning, Liam slid down in his seat.

“Ooooo, I wanna go next.” Maxwell bounced excitedly while the guests resumed the festivities. "How do we play?"

“I think I want to go, too,” Liam replied, straightening back up before hurling his napkin on the table. “I’m going to go find Riley.”

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

Riley exited the ladies' room, clutch in hand and a fresh dab of clear gloss gleaming on her pink lips. She stopped walking just as the door closed behind her and smiled with a look of surprise at seeing Liam leaning against the opposite wall. "What are you doing out here?"

He pushed himself off the wall, closing the distance between them and meeting her in the middle of the empty corridor. They wrapped their arms around each other, indulging in the warmth of their lovers' embrace. "Would you believe me if I told you I just missed you?" he answered, placing a tender kiss on her lips that skimmed lower to her jawline. 

"I missed you, too," she moaned with each gentle pressure of his seductive lips, suckling and nibbling along the spot that trailed behind her ear that he knew drove her crazy. "But something tells me that's not the only reason you left the ballroom."

Their gazes met simultaneously. "Leo."

Riley chuckled softly. "Do I even want to know?"

Liam sighed, smoothing back a loose hair behind her ear. "You know my brother and his wonderful words of wisdom." There was no way in hell he would tell her what they really discussed after she left; he could only imagine her embarrassment. "Everyone was just a little worried about you, that's all."

"I didn't mean to scare everyone. I just wanted tonight to be perfect. Instead, so many things went wrong. I can only assume what the court thinks about me now." She lowered her gaze to the red carpeting where they stood. "I let you down."

"I don't want to ever hear you say that again. Riley, sweetheart, you can never let me down. Do you understand that?" Liam lifted her chin; her tentative eyes stared back at him for a moment before nodding. "Good. And just so you know, our guest are used to bombings, stabbings, kidnappings, shootings, and terror plots at most of my palace events --"

"Wait. What?"

" -- I assure you, just the fact alone, that none of that took place tonight, and they're all going to leave here soon -- alive -- will be huge for them. Not having potatoes with the meal or the right wine was the least of their worries. They will consider this night a success. And a testament to their new queen. You should, too. I'm so very proud of you."

"I have so many questions about everything you just said."

Liam smiled, caressing Riley's petal-soft cheeks and lowering his head to kiss her again. "All in due time, my love.”

Riley let out a deep, drawn-out yawn she lightly covered with her palm before stretching and rolling her neck. A couple of weeks' worth of planning and endless decisions had left heavy tension in her shoulders and overwhelming exhaustion like nothing she'd felt before. None of it went unnoticed by Liam, who placed his hands on her shoulders and gingerly kneaded the taut muscles. 

"What do you say about heading back to our quarters, taking off all of your clothes, and I'll be up soon to massage this gorgeous body from head to toe? And hopefully, when I'm through, you'll massage parts of me, too … with any part of your body that you'd like." His lips curved into an inviting smile.

"Mmm, that's tempting," she purred, rubbing her hands over his ample chest. "But I can't just leave. It's the Queen's Ball. Without me, it's just ... The Ball." She chuckled, despite herself.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little panties over the ball. Just go upstairs and take them off. I’ll handle everything down here. Then … “ He squatted down to her eye level. “ … I’ll handle you.”

Her heart fluttered every time Liam spoke to her that way. The way he desired only her. She bit the corner of her lip teasingly. “I love you so much.”

Liam smiled. “You better. You’ve got one hell of a husband. I’d even venture to say you’re the luckiest woman on the whole damn planet right now.” Before Riley could respond to his jest, he put both of his hands on her cheeks to hold her head still and began placing playful, wet smooches all over her face, causing her to laugh riotously. After a few seconds of her squirming around and cackling at his antics, he paused to look at her. “You know I love you, too. Now go on up. I’ll be right behind you soon.” 

With a pat to her backside, they went their separate ways.

---------

Liam returned to the ballroom, having offered to finish what little time was left without her. He would offer his apologies for her absence, but in reality, the King couldn’t have cared less what anyone there thought. Since his bachelor party weeks ago, he had grown from a man who had no choices to one who made his own. His marriage and relationship with Riley came first. Her wellbeing was the main priority -- to hell with anyone who had a problem with that.

As Riley placed a hand on the elegant wooden handrail of the grand staircase and took the first step up, her thoughts meandered to where she had been in her life one month ago and how vastly it had changed in such a short time. For the first time in years, she was happy, and it felt so good to be in that place where she could finally let go of the past and move on. Liam was a game-changer, and she was thoroughly convinced he was the only person on the planet who could have gotten her out of her own head and to this level of blissful existence.

Rounding the corner at the top of the stairs, she reached into her clutch to pull out the key card to her quarters, exhaustion slowing her strides. Shuffling past a row of closed office doors and framed artwork, she made her way to the residential wing. 

The squeak of a door behind her and the click of heels drew her attention, causing her to stop and turn to see who was there. 

The color drained from her face as Madeleine casually stepped out, her hands behind her back and a devious, unsettling grin cemented on her face. 

It wasn't the fear that made Riley's heart pound with a sickening thud, but more shock than anything. No one had seen or spoken to the Countess since the confrontation in Las Vegas when she showed up unexpectedly after finding out Liam had married Riley the night prior. 

Now, suddenly, there she was, as if out of nowhere, a gleam in her eye, looking all too pleased to have this run-in with Riley.

"A little dramatic, don't you think?" Riley scoffed, taking one step back the closer Madeleine approached. "What are you even doing here?"

"I'm not going to hurt you, if that's what you're worried about," she answered contemptuously. Her green eyes drifted to one of the cameras mantled at each end of the hallway. Riley placed a shaky hand over her stomach, letting out a low, relieved breath, hoping that was the truth. "Not physically, anyway."

"Well, that sounds promising," Riley replied sardonically. "Now, if you don't mind ..." She turned away, wanting nothing more than to escape this conversation and make it back to her quarters. 

Madeleine reached out and grabbed the Queen by her elbow, pulling her back and harshly twisting her around so they were now face-to-face. "You're not going anywhere until I'm through with you," she hissed with an icy glare. "I told you I would make you regret what you've done."

Riley jerked her arm, trying to free herself. "Let go of my arm, Madeleine!" 

"Not until you hear what I have to say."

"I'm not interested in anything you have to say! Now LET ME GO!" Riley hoped someone heard her yell or at least witnessed what was happening on the camera. Where the hell is security?

While continuing to struggle to free herself, she reached up with her free hand in an attempt to pry off Madeleine's bony fingers that were squeezing tight grooves around her elbow, her manicured nails digging deeper into Riley's skin. "You're hurting me. I said to let me go."

"Very well, then." The woman, who had twice lost her chance at the crown, released her firm grasp, knowing that the momentum would cause Riley to stumble back as soon as she let go. 

Just as predicted, Riley planted a foot behind her for leverage before drawing her arm back as hard as she could, one last time. Her eyes grew wide, and she let out a sharp gasp that sounded well down the corridor. Riley sailed backward, tripping over herself and toppling to the ground. She finally landed with a hard blow on her backside, the rear of her head just inches from slamming to the floor.

A shockwave of pain coursed up Riley's spine from hitting so abruptly. Before she had a chance to respond or process what happened, Madeleine crouched down beside her, holding a DVD up and gaining Riley's attention. 

The pain had morphed into a throbbing ache that was soon forgotten as the Queen stared quizzically at the object displayed in front of her like a grand prize. 

"What is that?" her voice trembled.

"It's my ace in the hole," Madeleine stated, then wagged a finger. "Someone used to be a very naughty girl." 

Furrowing her brows, Riley responded. "I don't know what you mean."

"You know precisely what I mean, but just in case, please allow me to refresh your memory," Madeleine smirked before rising to her feet and prancing around as if she were having the time of her life. "I did a little digging after my brief visit to Las Vegas and came across a man who knew you very, very well at one time. I made some calls. We exchanged e-mails, a transfer of money or two. And he was all too eager to accept my offer of payment for any dirt he could give me on you."

There was no point in asking "who" -- she already knew; the thought made her nauseous. Riley closed her eyes and muttered. "Tyler?"

"Yes," Madeleine beamed, " Your ex-husband. He had a lot to say about you."

"I'm sure he did. Does it even matter to you that he's a liar and a cheat -- not to mention greedy? He would make up anything if he thought he could profit off of it."

"Oh, it matters. Personally, I don't believe a damn thing he had to say. Honestly, Riley ... even someone like you could have done better than that slime."

Riley cringed in pain as she pushed herself off the floor and turned to her oppressor. "Just get to the point, Madeleine. Clearly, he gave you something you thought was valuable enough to use against me, so just spit it already."

Madeleine smiled, "How very astute of you. You're correct. He did." She held up the disc as Riley regarded it suspiciously. "On this disk are several hours of the two of you ... together. Very graphic, if I do say so myself." Riley's jaw dropped upon hearing those words as Madeleine continued, "Now don't worry. I only watched it long enough to make sure the video was legit --"

"Give me that!" Riley reached out to snatch the DVD, but Madeleine pulled it away just out of her grasp. A burning sensation filled inside her chest and spread across her face. "You're lying. I never made videos like that."

"Oh, I think you did," the blonde countered with a mirthful tone. "You just didn't know about it. Your ex admitted as much to me ... an asshole move, for sure. But nonetheless, I purchased the copy from him for a hefty sum. And ... well ... here we are now. You're more than welcome to take this disc and see for yourself; I have it downloaded as a backup, knowing you'd want proof."

At that moment, all Riley wanted was for Liam to walk down that corridor where she now stood, pick her up in his arms, whisk her away to safety, and tell her it was all a bad dream. Not that she did anything wrong -- she was married at one time to the man, presumably on the video, and would have been a consenting adult. 

No, it was the fact that Tyler Brooks had taken intimate videos with her during their marriage, without her knowledge. Now Madeleine had possession of them.

God only knew what she planned to do with them, but Riley had a pretty good idea. "What do you want?" she whispered in defeat, afraid to hear the answer.

Madeleine grinned from ear-to-ear. "For you to leave Cordonia tonight and never return, or I release everything to the press."

Riley shook her head. "No. As much as I don't want anyone to see that video, I did nothing wrong, and I won't be blackmailed or intimidated by you so that you can get your grubby little paws on the crown."

"Is that so?" It wasn't a question so much as a remark meant to convey who was in control. 

Maintaining her position, Riley raised a brow, refusing to give in.

Madeleine was far from giving up, though; she had manipulation in her blood. "Very well, then. I'll release the video in the morning. It should be interesting to see how the world reacts to yet another scandal by this monarchy. Their Queen plastered all over the internet again, except this time, uploaded on every porn site on the web. 

"The news will run the story with your blurred-out silhouette in the background. Your father will see it, and his business will become a target.: Your friends. Family. Students. They'll all be inundated with your sexual proclivities. But the worst part will be the tribunal. The council will have no choice but to question Liam's decision-making abilities after not only squandering his pick of queen on some American nobody, but now one whose ass will be featured on the desktops of teenage boys across the world. It's a shame that he'll lose his reign, all because of you. Would you really do that to Liam? Do you genuinely believe you're worth all the trouble it will cause him?"

Riley froze. She knew Madeleine was taunting her with the people she cared about the most. The last thing she wanted was to embarrass each of them. But to possibly cause Liam to lose his legacy, his birthright, and the rulership of a country he loved so much? It was something she couldn't shake. 

Staring blankly, twisting the bands of gold that belonged to Liam's mother, she couldn't get the question Madeleine just asked out of her mind: Did Riley believe she was worth the trouble it would cost him? 

Nothing was damning on that video, aside from the fact that she never knew it existed. But she already had so much to prove; another video in the press' hand would tarnish Liam. Maybe the Countess of Fydelia was right: He would lose it all.

"Time is ticking," Madeleine reminded Riley as she tapped her watch. "What's it going to be?"

----------

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Liam x MC: Cordonia-gothqueen

FRI Series Tags:   @narrytheworld​​  @queenwalton​  @cordonianprincess​        @zaffrenotes​ @zilch3​  @drrookie​ @sfb123​​

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Seven

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 7 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this Chapter: abusive parental relationship; strong language; canon-level violence (explosions); mentions of alcohol poisoning; mention of Infinity War/Endgame deaths; perceived domestic partner abuse (no such thing actually happens!); concussions and minor injuries; mentions of arranged marriages; mentions of drug smuggling and human smuggling; lying; ANGST!

Word Count: 14,100+

A/N: So close to the finish line...

~

Spain, 2024, 5:07 pm.

    “Get the damn ice cream, Peter. I’m not holding you back.”

The kid sped down the sidewalk as fast as his feet would let him, skips in his steps and ignoring the chastising yells from Bucky. 

“You’re letting him have sugar?” Bucky whines, sluggish in his own steps. The Spanish summer sun was blaring, burning your forehead and building the same cold craving in your throat. It was just the three of you, carefree but melting, happy but annoyed with the constant proximity of each other. The villa (if you could call it that, it was more of a cottage) was listed as having three rooms - not the two you were stuck with. Bucky was at the last inch of self-control, begging you to switch with him - if only for one night - because ‘the kid fuckin’ talks in his sleep, doll! One more night and I might smother him.’

It was Bucky’s idea to take a little vacation. A year after the blip and only a few months after Peter’s world was turned upside down, a vacation seemed like the best choice. Preferably somewhere that was quiet and somewhat rural - somewhere you guys won’t be easily recognized. 

So the three of you packed and flew across the pond. In all honesty, you hadn’t even told the rest of the team where you were going besides Wanda. One day you were greeting them in the common room and preparing lunch, the other you were throwing your suitcase in one of the two vacant rooms in this little Spanish cottage. The three of you were truly off the map in terms of late notice. 

“Let the kid live. He’s having a mid-life crisis at eighteen.”

“I’ve had more mid-life crisis’s than his age combined. He’s not special.” The pointed look on your face had Bucky sighing in small defeat. “Okay, okay.”

These past two weeks in shared solitude, even if this trip was supposed to be relaxing, was beginning to melt into a tiresome routine. Well, just nights. The days were mild at best. And to make matters worse, you and Bucky had been dodging the team’s calls, messages that you left for voicemail. Bucky had clicked ‘end call’ more times than he could count and his excuse was always, ‘ the kid doesn’t want to leave, doll.’ Even annoyed with Peter, Bucky wanted only the best. 

It was only a matter of time until your phones were tracked and you were forced to come home. Everyone probably knew where you were anyway - you weren’t exactly hiding. But since you already got a good two weeks in, you figured they had taken some sympathy. 

“Think we can get him to visit a museum today or something?”

Bucky shrugged, lining up at the coffee stand near the ice cream cart. “Saw him checking out banana bread recipes last night. Seems more like a baking day.”

You could go for some banana bread. Ordering two iced coffees and making more miscellaneous small talk while waiting for Peter to order, you studied the streets of Spain. The country had suffered greatly when, cruelly, more than half their population disappeared. Left in proper ruins, no one believed it would ever recover. But then there was an election, a change in the structural government, and it just… did. They rebuilt themselves better than any country had, in your opinion. 

It was a rather calm day with minimal people out and about. It was exactly what you guys deserved after every mission - in your case, after a long month of PR recovery after that bar fight alongside Sam. 

“You bake, Barnes?”

He smiled fully, “Any chance I get.”

“You guys want anything?” Peter yelled out, bouncing lightly on his heels as he waited. You waved him off. “You sure? It’s pretty cheap for summer prices!”

After rejecting Peter’s dozen ice cream questions and offers, the three of you decided the heat was a little too much to bear, even with sunscreen. Peter spoke most of the way. Something about that banana bread.

Bucky, being the baker, helped him choose the best recipe of the four Peter had bookmarked and soon the kitchen was only half dirty with eggs and mashed bananas.

“What do you mean a cup of baking soda, kid? Use your eyes,” Bucky yelled in second hand embarrassment. “I don’t think a cup of baking soda goes in anything.”

“Read right here, dude,” Peter poked at his tablet. “A cuuuu... okay. Okay, I see what I read wrong.”

“You two better be making me some good ass banana bread today. I don’t want to throw up!” You had opted to let the two men have their fun in the kitchen. You tried to bake, but you were more of a cook than anything else.

“You could be reading out the directions.”

“I could do a lot of things,” you respond with the emphasis on “could”.

The doorbell interrupted your no-so-real argument. Peter snickered, “You could get the door.”

With a displeased grunt and a straightened middle finger to the kid, you opened the door to find two people who were definitely not invited. Clint, with this magical and massive smile on his face and Steve, with his eyebrow cocked and arms crossed.

“Oh, would you look at that. Guests! Welcome to our humble abode!”

“Now, how and why?” Bucky groaned. But his actions contradict his words as he went to give Steve a hug, covered in flour and all.

���Hey, Clint,” you mumbled, purposely ignoring the super soldier side-eyeing you. “Care to tell us what you’re doing here?

Clint returned your warm smile, “See, Cap? They’re safe. Can we go now?”

Steve rolled his eyes, arms crossed over his chest in a rather demanding way. “We’re here to take them home, Clint.”

Bucky scoffs.

“Eh, you might be. But I’m here to soak up some of this Spanish sun.” A low grunt sounded in the back of Clint’s throat as he spoke. He was already making his way to pick at the mashed ingredients. 

“You heard the man, pal,” Bucky slaps Steve’s shoulder, leaving him at the door as well. Awkwardly left alone, you blow a small raspberry and step aside to let Steve in. Bucky continues, “We’re here to soak up some sun. And I’m not done soakin’.”

With great protest, Steve maneuvers Bucky away from the kitchen and into the hallway beside the master bedroom. With both super soldiers out of the way, you finally go to help Peter with mixing. “Why did he come, really?”

Clint shrugs, arms deep inside your cabinets and collecting whatever desserts you had pre-packaged. “Honestly? I think he missed you guys.”

“All this drama because he misses Bucky? He could have just shown up declaring truce and had a nice little vacation,” you mumbled, glaring at Steve from behind. 

“Think he felt like he needed an excuse to even show up. But they really are asking for you guys back home. Threatened to arrest your ass.”

“Lucky me.”

You could make out snippets of their tiny argument up ahead. 

‘You could have called.’

‘You haven’t been answering the phone, Buck.’

‘I’ve been relaxing.’

A heavy sigh. 

‘I just thought we told each other everything.’

‘Believe it or not, Steve… but I’ve got more friends now. Isn’t that what you wanted? I’m not trying to ignore you, I - I just needed to help another friend out this time.’

Peter, with great care, washes his hands and makes sure there aren't any random mashes of banana on his clothing before he side-steps you and Clint to interrupt the very ‘private’ conversation between the super soldiers. “Hey, Mr. Steve- Cap, hey.”

Steve immediately lets his hard gaze falter. “Hey, kid. You doin’ good?”

Peter nods in response. 

“He’s doing great! Much needed vacation that still isn’t over.”

“Buck.”

Inserting yourself may not have been the best option. “Give it up, Rogers. We’re on vacation. And until the kid says he’s ready to go home, we go home.”

Peter fumbles, “Oh, please don’t put me on the spot like that. I’m not good with confrontation.”

Bucky quickly answers before Steve can, “It’s not confrontation, Peter. We love being out here and if it’s helping your mental health, we’re not going to take that away from you.”

Steve blinks and his expression looks like one of hurt. “You think I wanna do that? The literal president has been asking for your location. You’re not allowed to leave the country.”

You shrug, “Well, no one told me that.”

“Buck, you were just granted immunity three months ago. And you go and drop off the face of the earth?”

“I’m literally in Spain.”

Steve blinks again. He really can’t believe he’s got to deal with two people with similar personalities. “Your point?”

“On Earth…?”

Clint decides to make his presence known. He has even inserted the poured batter into the glass tray for you guys. “Why don’t we just stay with ‘em, Cap? God knows you need a vacation, too.”

“We have two rooms. You’d be bunking on the floor,” you say, pointing to random areas on the floor.

Clint waves his hand in the air, “Not the worst place I’ve slept in.”

“I’m being hounded day and night to bring you three home.” Steve looks about ready to burst into tears of frustration.

“Turn off your phone?”

Steve whips his head and stomps to close the few feet of distance between the two of you. “You really think it’s that easy? You really think I wasn’t worried when my two best friends just disappeared one night and didn’t tell me?”

Two.

Best. 

Friends. 

Before you could even comment, Bucky puts on the dramatics.  “We ran away together, Stevie. We meant to tell you.”

Steve takes a moment, just staring at the ceiling and piecing together his thoughts. “Joke all you want, Buck. I’m bringing you home.”

“Ste-”

“No!” He’s stomping back to the front door now. “I’ve had enough! I can’t stand not knowing where you guys are all day when bad things keep happening in this world. Just… just come home.”

All is quiet besides the quiet munching of Clint and his rogue cookie. Steve’s face did this thing when he was at war with himself, anxiety crawling up his arms or panic weighing his empty stomach down. His face drained color and that perfect renaissance oil lost its blush, blended paint that turned a murky gray. A masterpiece lost in storage.

“I can take the couch,” you whisper, arms erupting in goosebumps. “You guys can stay the night and we’ll go home tomorrow, okay? Or somewhere pre-approved, I guess.”

Bucky didn’t argue. Neither did Peter. 

Steve's imaginary painter adds the softest pink back to Steve’s cheeks as you compile a mess of blankets and pillows for him.

Present Day, 2025, 7:15 am

     There’s a warmth near you as you begin to lazily shuffle against the sheets, heavy on your chest but comfortable all in all. 

There are no worries, no sudden bursts of Avenger business, no fights needing to be fought. Simply Steve warm against you with sunlight draping over his bare and freckled shoulders. 

The serum enhanced for the sole purpose of strength and survival. And sure, it healed the body quicker than the average human body could naturally, but the one thing it couldn’t do was strip personality. 

Steve had freckles splattered along his broad shoulders and down to in between his shoulder blades, light in color and all similar in size. Something a lot of people hated about themselves and tried to cover up while others tried to mimic. The serum was supposed to heal damaged skin, sunburnt areas, birthmarks, and even moles - at least, that’s what the official 1943 report had claimed. 

But over the years, Steve had continued to age and grow into his new body. And while he couldn’t get dangerously sick anymore, anything unknown could still occur. No one had the same serum as Steve and last Tony had heard, Peggy had spilled the last remnants of Steve’s original DNA (blood they took before the procedure) in the Hudson. Bucky seemed to be experiencing the same natural changes as well. 

It had been proven that neither Steve nor Bucky could carry or transmit diseases, experience abnormal cell production, nor could they develop a lifelong ailment without severe reason. 

So imagine everyone’s surprise when Clint called one morning while deep in a routine mission (somewhere in Africa, you really don’t remember) to relay the news that, ‘you guys aren’t gonna fucking believe this - yeah Rogers, I’m telling them the hilarious news right now - Steve’s appendix just up and exploded last night - hey! He just stole - hold on. Give me back my hearing aid, you abelist fuck!’. 

Steve had stretch marks on his back from the procedure, his elbow still hurt from time to time after he had snapped it a year ago, and the white scar above his right hip reminded him that even super soldiers are not exempt from the wonders of the appendix. 

His breathing was slow and his eyelids flickered. Seemed he was enjoying his first deep sleep in a while. You craned your neck to try and read the cable box across the room, slightly making out a seven in the front before you gave up. You were due for your annual eye appointment, anyway. 

Steve did have perfect eyesight though, so damn him.

You shrugged the sheets from your arms. He was on his stomach, cheek planted on your chest and right foot dangling off the side of the bed. His left arm was draped over your middle and his right was tucked inside a pillowcase. His hair draped over his forehead and some of it was still tucked behind his ears. 

Careful to not wake him, you gently traced the ridge of his nose with your index finger, resting it on the tip that always turned bright pink regardless of mood. Once at the end, you went back up to trace it again. 

“Beak,” you whispered more to yourself, and you bit your lip to suppress the overwhelming urge to giggle. 

Steve was here, next to and near you, and he was so warm. 

You could have stayed in bed for hours, sleeping and cuddling and fucking, and you would bet your left kidney that Steve wanted that too. It was impossible to question it, it had to be, because Steve was too genuine. You had met hundreds of men in your life: some the literal devil, some cowards, some reserved, and rarely, some genuine at heart. Steve fit some category that didn’t even exist. 

You wanted to love him and hate him. You wanted to make love and fuck him. You wanted to kiss him and annoy him. He checked a box that didn’t exist but that you would just have to reserve for him. The annoying little shit who could lift Thor’s hammer. 

The door almost ripped off its hinges by the brute force of someone’s leg. You didn’t even fully register being crushed by Steve until his elbow stabbed you right in the gut. 

“Rogers!” you groaned in pain and half trying to reach for your pistol on the bedside table. 

There was a collective gasp of surprise (and maybe terror) from the people that just broke down your door. After yesterday’s unplanned run-in with Ramirez, no doubt this was called-for.

“Oh, hell…” Sam grumbled, lowering his gun the second he realized two of his friends were sharing one bed. “Lemme guess, the other bed’s mattress was too firm but this one’s just right.”

Bucky stood behind him, a knowing smirk plastered on his smug face. He looked between you and Steve, ignoring the way Scott was practically pulling his shoulder down in pure fits of laughter. Didn’t take much for Scott to tip himself over and almost drag Bucky down with him. 

“Couldn’t you knock?” Steve nearly yelled, body still trying to shield yours even though you were fully dressed. You were struggling to push him away in pure embarrassment, but he seemed intent with this form of protection. 

“You weren’t answering your phone! We changed our check-in times to seven instead of eight, remember?”

Steve, ever the gentleman, brought the sheets up higher for you and finally lifted himself out of bed. 

And Bucky, ever the gentleman who has been spending way too much time with Clint, nodded his head toward you. “You two fuck?”

Mouth dropping in humiliation, you pulled the sheets up over your head and screamed into the temporary cover. Steve sputtered over whatever explanation he was thinking of pulling out of his ass. 

“You two fucked,” Bucky smugly confirmed. 

Steve pulled on the nearest shirt and went to kick Scott, who was ‘criss-cross apple-sauced’ on the floor and laughing way too loudly. “Is it really any of your business?”

“Man, that’s an answer!” Sam was about to fall into the same fit as Scott. 

Annoyed, and fueled by that annoyance, you ripped the sheets off and marched for the bathroom. “You really want to know, you nosy little fucks? We did fuck and he made me come three times. Ask him how, I’m sure he’ll teach you a thing or two, no matter how embarrassed he may seem right now.”

You left him alone. You literally just exposed him and you left him alone with the wolves. 

All was quiet until Sam blew a small raspberry. “Three times?”

     Bucky didn’t need to speak to show he was about to tease the hell out of you. He simply sipped his coffee until he emptied it, and then refilled it. You couldn’t even finish a single mug yet because you were waiting to break the tension. 

Looking around the hotel bar because he still valued your privacy, Bucky made sure to keep his voice low. “Three times?”

Half wanting to slap the smirk off his face and the other half wanting to announce Steve’s naughty accomplishment, you settled for pouring more coffee into your mug. 

“Don’t you dare hold what I said against me, I literally had just woken up.”

“Mm, yeah. I remember how you literally moaned Thor’s name when you were startled awake from a nap in the living room.”

“Bucky!” you yelled, turning your shoulders inwards when you received a few odd looks from other early risers. Well, some were early risers. The person closest to the door was an agent, as was the other eating breakfast at the bar. “You promised you would never mention that again!”

He shook his head with amusement, “I can’t believe you swore me to secrecy when Loki basically told everyone.”

“He-!” Choking on your own spit, you slid lower into your booth. “That mischievous, conniving, son of a bitch.”

“In all honesty, I think that was his way of flirting with you.”

“Telling everyone I had a wet dream about his brother?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t be the first.”

You smirked, “Oh, trust me. I know.”

Bucky squinted, guilty in his spoken words. “All I’m saying is, it’s nice that you didn’t just write Steve off with us, as if nothing happened.”

It made your heart swell that even in a moment with you, Bucky would still always protect Steve. 

“I would never. We actually talked last night and he really apologized.”

“Really?” His eyes were hopeful. 

“He did. And as cliche as it sounds, one thing led to another.”

You realized your earlier words were contradictory when Bucky sighed sadly, “This better not have been a one time thing. I’ll strangle you both.”

You scoffed and finally took a piece of that blueberry muffin on your plate. “Screw you, Barnes. It’s Steve we’re talking about. I’d give him the world if I could.”

That made Bucky blush. “God, I’m stupidly happy for him. I always said he’d need to find a dame who had as big of a mouth as he does.”

Rolling your eyes, you offered him some of that muffin. He gladly broke off a piece. “Don’t go marrying us off just yet.”

“Doll, he almost imploded when we discovered you slept together. Teasing him about proposing might just kill him.”

You laughed at that. Although Steve had admitted he regretted the time you lost, there wasn’t any chance he would push you any further. He was probably comfortable with taking things slow, no matter the history. You had that in common. 

“Seems we’re all just gonna have to make sure we don’t cause his demise.”

Smiling as he chewed, Bucky played with your feet under the table. Safe moments like these always occurred before a mission, no matter how simple or heavy they were. And like people love to say, you never fought with each other before. Just in case. 

Going to bed angry was another thing entirely. That, the whole team was proficient in. 

“You ready for tonight?”

Yesterday had definitely turned you against the very concept of family reunions, what with the small ache between your shoulders. You were angry with Seda, with Ernesto, disappointed with Ramirez, and neutral toward your sister. 

God, your sister. This would be the first time since you left Mexico for school and SHIELD that you would be seeing her, as well as your other siblings. Jackeline was perhaps the only sibling you had some real memories with. Everyone else was already deep in the business or far away from the chaos. The team only knew of two other siblings who rsvp’d. The others: radio silence. 

“Part of me just wants a normal family wedding. I’m kinda hoping we can just end it all tonight.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Bucky chuckled, finishing off your muffin for you. “You’ll get some closure soon enough.”

There was no such thing as closure. Just less of a constant sting. 

“Bucky,” you spoke seriously now. “My father made Steve sign something yesterday.”

“He told us at the debrief yesterday.”

“When did you have a debrief?”

Bucky scooted in his booth, quickly explaining. “Uh well, it wasn’t so much of a debrief as it was a simple overview. Just a heads up.”

You tilted your head, somewhat unconvinced. “Uh-huh… but we could void it, right? He had a fucking notary there and everything.”

“We can declare it void, yeah Y/N,” he grabbed your hand over the table. “He won’t get tangled in this.”

With a heavy sigh, you gripped Bucky’s hand tighter. “I’m really glad you guys are gonna help us.”

He returned your smile. “Anything for family.”

Family. 

After all these years of self-hatred and despising your own blood, you blinded yourself of the simple truth that you already had a real family. Whether you were accepted after Sokovia, or after you helped Steve escape with Bucky, or after those long five years, you were accepted. And you accepted them right back. 

    The briefing goes as expected. Didn’t seem like anyone was going to live down the now obvious fact that you and Steve had slept together after years of unnoticed pining. You simply took the teasing in stride, better than Steve even, who stuffed his face full of chips in embarrassment.

The plan was simple but ever-evolving. The three of them will hang back: Bucky at the hotel, Scott and Sam at the nearby base with Torres. The base was fifteen minutes from the estate, hidden behind those same pine trees but the perfect cover - it was a nearby diner. Steve will still take the shield, FRIDAY was installed on your personal phones, and any weapons you attached to your person were specifically made to deter metal detectors. Once in, it was mingle, mingle, mingle.

There were going to be a thousand questions to answer: What in the world is Captain America doing here? Is he here to cause trouble? Are you two seriously dating? So, Captain America being one of us means holding Thor’s hammer was a myth, aye?

Then you would move on to the more important guests. Jackeline’s greeting would be more of a reunion. But flying under and over the radar had to walk the same line - you needed to mix in with the crowd and make sure they see you participating, but then escape for a little while to continue the mission.

Once in, the task was to electronically and physically retrieve everything Scott didn’t have time to yesterday, plus the new information Ernesto got for today and tomorrow. His latest emails, list of contacts, checks, birth certificates, video evidence.

“Do we all know our duties?”

You wanted to wrap up Steve’s commanding voice and keep it a special secret, a secret that was yours and the team’s to share.

“We got it, Cap. For the tenth time this week - you two okay?”

Sam was rewarded with a slanted smile. “Everytime you ask me that, I’ll lie.”

He nods, “At least you admit it. You’re not alone in this.”

“For years,” you continued, “It’s been that way. I guess I’m both ready for it to end and not. I want them behind bars. I don’t want the repercussions.”

“Makes sense,” Bucky agrees. “At least part of the fight will be over.”

Beside you, Steve clenches his jaw. “We’re always fighting.”

Bucky grins at him, “Yeah.” There’s a sparkle in his eye as he leans forward to squeeze Steve’s thigh. “At least it’s not with each other anymore.”

     They weren’t lying when they said vibranium was lightweight. Felt different from nano-tech and was an obvious change from your regular body suit. You felt protected and stylish. Good, because even though you weren’t obligated to impress those vultures, there were still a few cousins and extended family members you wanted compliments from. And?

The black turtleneck was warmer than you expected and didn’t strangle you. You were a bundle of velvet bliss right now. The cuffs were a golden brown, completely made from vibranium. Modeling in the mirror, you whispered a few ‘pew-pew’s as you blocked pretend bullets. C’mon, golden bracelets? You were basically Wonder Woman. 

The tights were your own, thin and black and you could still see there were faint bruises on your knees from training. Once all that was situated, you pulled on the long skirt and tucked in the bottom of your shirt, glad the way the high-waisted design sucked everything in. The skirt was the same golden brown as the cuffs, shorter in the front and wavy as it draped down the back, barely reaching your ankles. You tied the skirt’s belt in a tight bow and pulled on the black boots Shuri had also sent you. The heel was thick and short, and the boot was pretty tight around the top of your ankle. 

Time was ticking on that well-deserved goody basket you were meaning to send to the royal siblings. 

Hoop earrings, three rings dressing your left hand, a simple golden necklace - now you need to do your hair and make-up. 

Steve was just patiently waiting for his turn in the bathroom, bless his heart. 

     “Scott said the files are in his personal belongings. We suspect he’s planning to smuggle over fifty people tomorrow. Their records should be hidden away in those belongings, too.” 

Sam always kept a leveled head in dire situations like these. He was rational and helpful, always waited until the job was done and everyone was safe before he had a drink or a cry. It was safest, perhaps the most fair thing the Avengers could do for the public after destroying half the cities they fought in. The media didn’t need to know about the late-night fights, alcohol poisoning, or frequent therapy sessions. Your coping methods were all different - Steve has no doubt Sam will immediately pack an overnight bag and Bucky to visit his sister and nephews once the wedding concluded. 

Steve? Well, Steve was surprisingly calm, all things considered. 

“You get any hits yet? Anything from Ramirez that could help us find those people sooner?”

Sam sighs sadly, shaking his head. “It’s looking like we’re heading into a full-on fight.”

That’s not what Steve wanted to hear. A ‘full-on’ fight almost always had accidents, misfires, innocent casualties, and a few cuts and scrapes to add to his own personal collection. 

“Sam,” Steve puts down the files in his hand and shuts off his monitor to signal he’s done researching for the night. “I really don’t know how to thank you.”

“You know,” Sam smiles at him, “I’m gettin’ real tired hearin’ you say that.”

Steve huffs out a laugh. Sam gently exhales - Steve can feel it. 

“You two really are the same.” Sam points at Steve and to the bathroom door. “Always apologizing for shit you can’t control.”

Steve looks down to his feet, a blush in his pale cheeks. After failing to clip his cufflinks on his own, he holds his arms out to Sam who happily clips them for him. 

“Is it real?”

Steve pauses. He doesn’t really need to think about it because he knows. He’s known for a while even if he was on autopilot. The pause only serves to help him catch his breath from the happy prickle that crawls up his spine. “As real as second chances go.”

Sam laughs and claps his shoulder, “I get it. We seem to get a hell of a lotta those.”

      Now that the mission was truly kicking into gear, fucking full speed ahead, Steve had no other choice but to pull shreds of Captain America from that metaphorical attic of his. Took everything in him to revert back, never fully, and each time would be different from the last. Sometimes it was mentally draining being responsible for a whole team and creating the plans, other times he regretfully felt like a colonizer, an intruder who followed orders from the top and was forced to execute them. This time around, he was stepping into uncharted territory, but still familiar, and he had a million roles to mime. 

“Steeeve.”

His smile was instant and he gravitated to your voice. “Hmm?”

“So, I have an idea for a hairstyle,” you reply, throwing open the bathroom door with a brush in one hand and the other holding the top layers of your hair up. “I got enough hair for it.”

“Tell me about it. It gets in the way of everything.”

“Haha.” You rolled your eyes, still trying to shovel more hair higher. “I curled it, so all I gotta do is tug this upper half up into a ponytail while the rest stays down. But can you help? My shoulders still hurt and I haven’t taken my advil yet.”

Steve shuffles back into the room to grab you two pills before he replaces his hands with yours. “So, just lift it up?”

You hum confirmation, watching Steve in the mirror as he pulled your thick curls higher, snapped the hair tie between his teeth, and tied it all. He pulled the strands outward so the high curls still fell around your face. The hairstyle would have been easier with extensions (for a much fuller look) but if you had to throw your body around these next two days, you’d rather save yourself the embarrassment of having them pulled off. 

“Thank you,” you blush. These moments were so intimate, so sweet, just you and Steve. “You need any help?”

Steve looks down at himself. He had already tied his own tie. He could style his own hair and comb his beard. “I think I’m good. Forgot to pack cologne, though.”

“I’ve got some perfume in my suitcase. There should be one in there that isn’t too flowery.”

Steve rolls his eyes and turns to leave. “Not really a problem, doll.”

Pulling on his suit jacket and reaching for your suitcase to set it on the bed, he miscalculated the balance he was so obviously lacking. Instead of toppling head first himself, he fumbles your suitcase and spills its contents on your bed. He stills for a second, looking to the closed bathroom door to see if you popped your head through to ask what the hell that sound was. But it remained closed, and Steve silently groaned because of his clumsiness. 

He tries his best to roll the clothing items back in, cursing whenever he would accidentally squeeze a perfume bottle you had hidden in there. He counted three. The one he picks smells like roses.

Amongst the ruins he finds your passport, multiple IDs, and two pairs of sunglasses. He chuckles to himself and thinks, we’ve been here for four days and she hasn’t worn these once.

A torn piece of paper stood out from the pile, folded neatly in its own envelope but still damaged. 

     CLINT

Curious, Steve opens the envelope, wholeheartedly expecting to find the written contents from the archer himself, but pauses when he reads the simple sentence, in your handwriting. 

‘After careful deliberation, I have come to the conclusion that I want you to have all my video games.’

If Steve didn’t know any better, and judging by the multiple other letters peeking through the torn tape from the corner of your suitcase, it sounded like a goodbye letter.

“What’s taking so long?”

Startled, Steve shoves the letter under the pile of clothes. “Uh, my clumsy ass spilled your clothes everywhere so I’m being good and fixing everything.”

“...annoying.”

Still, you stayed inside the bathroom.

He glanced back just to make sure. And he knew he shouldn’t be snooping, the guilt was already eating away at him, but he now noticed the lump under the torn tape and another envelope poking through. 

They were all signed for different people. Bucky, Wanda, Peter, Rhodey - 

The devil on his shoulder drowned the cries of the angel. 

Opening his, he prays for his quick reading skills to aid him before you realized what he was doing.       

Steve, 

     Believe when I say that I thought I would put a bullet in my father before he could. Whoops…

I don’t really know why I’m writing these letters besides the thrill of morbidity for my untimely death or because I’m an amateur writer on the side. I never know what to say to you, anyway. Whether it’s in person or on paper. I’ve got a hundred drawn-up speeches in my head I almost say to you. But they don’t come out when I want them to and it seems a bit much to write out the words to several imaginary crumpled pieces of paper. 

This will have to do. 

Steve, I know for a fact, deep in whatever soul I have left, that you are a good man. 

When the world fell apart, I held on to you. I don’t know why. Natasha bugged me about it, sent me those signature smirks of hers whenever we did anything remotely weird. She believed something was going on between us and I would get so angry with her because it was like she saw something I couldn’t. And I wanted to see it. Wrap it up for myself and live in the softness.

You slept by my side when I would ask, you let me look through your private sketchbook to help ease my mind, and you would jump at every chance to shield me from danger. Even when you know I can take care of myself. I don't know how many times I have to remind you. 

I don’t understand why you shut me out after we brought our friends back. And at the time, it hurt like hell. I literally wanted to kill you and then myself. It made no sense, it still doesn’t. I won’t lie and say it still surprises me or that it no longer hurts. ‘Cause I’m numb to it now and the pain is more of a dull ache. 

But I guess you had your reasons, no matter how hurtful, how ridiculous, no matter how stupid. 

Fuck, why didn’t you get some of that life Tony had always wanted for you? The question eats me alive. Maybe you did move on, maybe you would miss us too much, I truly don’t know. When you confessed to wanting some form of that life when we rescued Wanda, it just confused me more.

Then my father basically declared war and you cut me out. I can’t help but think you stayed behind to help me finish this, what with that righteous streak of yours, but if it is the case, then I am so sorry. 

You deserve to live, Steve. 

Guess what I really want to close with is this: find that life you always wanted. Buy a boat, or a cabin in the secluded woods and become a lumberjack, travel, open your own art museum - hell, erase all traces of your identity and sell painted landscapes for a living. 

In any form you find it, just try. You know I’m always rooting for you, and I’m always by your side. No matter how annoying and smart-mouthed you may be. 

There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be than here, there, and everywhere with you. 

With as much love in me, 

    The swirl of your name leaves him disoriented, and slightly paralyzed. Steve licks the envelope closed.    

     Steve puts the very existence and contents of your letter to the back of his mind for the time being. He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, no time to dissect it word for word. He’ll focus on it later. He still doesn’t know what reaction he should be experiencing. The letter was unexpected, yes, but it’s the matter of you writing a goodbye letter - as if you weren’t going to make it out of here alive. And that about saws Steve in two. 

Steve thinks the elevator comes too fast and wonders what he could do to stop time. The mics on your neck generate enough noise for you to hear the static on the other end. No one is currently online, and Steve cherishes the little moments he’s getting before having to transition into ‘Captain America’ mode. 

There wasn’t much time today to truly bask in the afterglow. The moment the elevator opens Steve literally drags you inside and captures your lips in a rather chaste kiss. It surprises you momentarily but you’re responding, and it’s fluid and familiar. The kiss is brief, but it feels as if your years mold into this single act, and Steve’s smiling wider than he has today when the first thing you say as you part is that maybe you chose the wrong shade of lipstick because it looks too damn dark on his lips.

The elevator reaches the ground floor and he looks over at you one last time in the privacy you’re afforded. He’s got that good ache in his chest again and it’s both calming and a little bittersweet, because staring at you is like staring at the sun - it hurts to look at for a long time but oh, so tempting. 

   The lawn was separated into two halves with only one fully decorated and the other still under a tarp, hidden because it was mid-construction and to not spoil the surprise. Over to the side, just left of the large lake, there was an extra tarp the workers were manning in case the clouds in the sky decided to cry. 

Jackeline had chosen violet as her main color scheme, with golden hues stitched alongside. The flowers, soft lights, marble floor, and desserts were all violet; the curtains and tarps, plates and glasses, flowers on the wall, and Jackeline’s rehearsal dress were all gold. Ernesto must have spent over a million dollars in the decorations alone. 

Everyone donned their best designers and since only family was in attendance today, the little amount of people were easily outdone one right after the other. In total, there were fifteen guests, and that included you and Steve: Ernesto, Seda, the groom’s father, Jackeline’s mother, two of your half-brothers, three aunts (sister’s of Ernesto), two cousins, the maid of honor, and Marcus White. 

They have already fawned over Steve, some with a major guard up as expected, but as Ernesto explains the specifics, everyone becomes more pleased than weary. ‘It was just too good to be true that the Avengers were all good’, someone announces. Steve grips your hand just a little tighter. 

The mere absence of Ramirez was enough of an answer: he really was going to be eliminated.

Across from your private corner, cheers and claps sound as the happy couple finally emerges. Even your father leaves mid-conversation to go greet her. 

She’s a fifties masterpiece. Her dark hair cascades in uneven but gentle layers, framing her face and she’s both glossy and matte. Her skin is darker and her eyebrows are fuller, widow’ peak and strong jaw, thin neck and perfectly rounded shoulders. She has a painted blush on her high cheekbones, dark eyeshadow and a faint cat eye, and the reddest, fullest lips that are already spitting wit as she greets her more serious guests. Her voice is high but steady and she’s so obviously the center of attention, she’s the literal bride, but you bet she could take over the room even if she wasn’t. Her fiancé, surprisingly enough, trails behind her as if he too is in a trance, greeting the same guests and attempting to match her enthusiasm. She’s making herself known, and she’s succeeding.

It isn’t until she locks her sight on you that Steve finally mumbles a quiet ‘woah’ underneath a shaky breath and you can’t blame him, dear god you can’t, because seeing her for the first time in six years is eating away at you. She’s nineteen, young and sweet, and still trapped in the world you were planning to destroy.   

Her first reaction is to run into your arms and hold you tightly, the force swinging you from side to side. Her giggles are contagious and you find yourself reacting similarly, grip tightening as she begins to ramble about how much she missed you and how proud she is that you have saved the world ten times over. The statement is overwhelming, but you find yourself nodding along in place of anything verbal.

Steve is patient as he witnesses this family reunion, standing at your side with respect and a tint of scarlet staining his cheeks. Finally, Jackeline turns to greet him and for a scary second, Steve sees Peggy.

“No way!” She keeps her voice low. “I could have sworn my bit-... uh, my bunch of tias were lying about you really being here.”

Steve shakes the fifties image from his head. The resemblance, even if Jackeline has more slanted eyes and a larger forehead, is uncanny. “Thank you so much for inviting us. The ride up was a bitch but we made the most of it.”

Jackeline stutters over her own laugh. “Oh.” She looks to you with a wide grin. “Oh, he’s a keeper.”

“Thought so myself,” you grin back. “You should hear him swear during a football game.”

“All men turn into animals when their teams don’t live up to expectations.”

Her accent is thicker than yours. Living in New York for over 10 years definitely helped smooth over some dialect and create your own voice. But Jackeline’s, considering she had never lived outside of Mexico, was thick and silky and resembled a place you no longer called home.

She pulls the man behind her forward, effectively interrupting and ending the conversation he was having with one of your cousins. “This is Julian. Julian, this is my one and only sister and her boyfriend!”

Julian, bless his heart, holds out a slightly shaking hand for you to shake. You do so, and try to convey calmness through it. When you watch his glance fall to Steve and feel his hand start to shake yours more rapidly, you can’t help but stifle a laugh.

“It’s an honor!” Julian finally says, voice deep and wracked with some nerves. He shakes Steve’s hand when he gets the chance. “Captain.”

“Please,” Jackeline rolls her eyes. “He’s just like us! You should be swooning over my sister, who is probably going to be the one to kill you if you ever hurt me.”

Julian blinks. His eyes go from Steve to you, contemplating his next move without wanting to seem rude. He nods in your direction. “I don’t doubt you would. Excuse me if I came off as rude. I’m just starstruck by this one here, is all.”

His accent matches Jackeline’s.

Steve waves his hand through the air. “You are not the first tonight, son.”

Sometimes you forget that Steve is an old man. Biologically, he’s in his mid-thirties. Ever changing and growing old as normal, but his soul is old. From a different time and out of it. The mere nickname he just gave Julian, no doubt because of his young age, leaves you averting your eyes and turning away to smile up at one of the many golden chandeliers.

“I really hope you enjoy tonight. The party may seem small right now, but trust me, half of Mexico will be dancing with us tomorrow night.” Jackeline bounces in place, hand intertwining with Julian’s, and she leans in to speak more clearly with you. “Meet me later? We have so much to catch up on.”

Agreeing, you watch the happy couple leave to converse with the few other guests.

Steve turns toward you, eyes squinted in amusement. “Is she really cheating on him with a man of the cloth?”

You can’t help the involuntary snort that leaves your nose. “The photos were watermarked, right? Time stamped? Maybe they’re old.”

Steve huffs a laugh and grabs two champagne glasses as the tray flies by him. “She’s got a way about her. Reminds me of a dame from this book I read a while back.”

Sipping your drink, you ponder. “What book?”

“The one where the dude gets shot at the end.”

“Oh, you mean every book from the 20th century?”

Steve laughs, “That twenties one!”

Mouth dropping, you push at his chest and turn to walk away. “You did not just compare her to Daisy from The Great Gatsby!”

Steve follows. “That’s the one! Honest! She has this way about her!”

    It’s not long after a few dances and photographs that you’re all seated for the actual dinner. There are three long tables, two parallel to each other and the main one perpendicular. You don’t know if it’s a power move or whatever, but your name cards are placed on one of the parallel tables. But it doesn’t bother you much since you have a front view of Seda and your father. 

Dinner is a six-course meal. Not that you assumed any different - Ernesto really went all out for his youngest child (that you know of). Your mics are picking up conversations left and right so you’re actually able to enjoy the meal. Salad, soup, a weird looking appetizer that’s actually quite delicious, the main course of either chicken/fish/or steak, and two desserts. All throughout, Steve is actually having the time of his life being fed so well. 

“Answer me this,” Steve leans in to whisper in your ear. “Are those hearts or paper airplanes hanging from the ceiling?”

You smiled against the ridge of your champagne glass, “You mean those clay flowers?”

“Is that what they are?” He pauses for a long second, squinting.

“Are your eyes going bad?” 

“Eyes don’t go bad.”

Your mouth falls open. “Your eyes are going bad!”

“Again,” Steve holds up a finger. “My eyes are just fine, not bad.”

Something else to add to that list you had made in the morning.

“This is fucking fantastic.”

Steve, still trying to casually squint, huffs. “Annoying...”

You bump his shoulder and lean in to whisper quietly. “Turns you on.”

Steve just blushes.

    It’s like he forgets where he is for a second, what with the great food and surprisingly good conversation with one of your brothers beside him. Steve’s already built a much stronger rapport with the thirty-something year old man than you have. There’s a stab of guilt for a second, a need to duck and drown in shame, when you realize you can’t even remember his name.

Ernesto stands to announce toasts. His is brief and not all that fatherly, but it’s the longest you’ve heard him string some nice words together. Seda follows, brief as well, and includes a childhood anecdote about her. Jackeline’s mother is a young woman, somewhere between forty and fifty, and her toast is only a sentence long - ‘Solo quiero que estas contenta, mi amor.’ For the first time tonight, Bucky voices his thoughts over the mic with a quiet and sad sounding hum.

Ernesto lifts himself from his chair, swatting away his men who go to help him. He has the microphone again and he’s walking toward you, face neutral. You know better than to refuse in front of this big of a crowd. Steve squeezes your hand before you stand and he remains beaming up at you from his seat. 

You’ve seen it in the movies - raise the glass, say some words, end it nicely. It’s what you do. But it feels surreal, almost unnerving when you don’t recognize the faces looking back at you. 

     “Here’s to you,” you lift your champagne glass, looking around at the happy yet solemn faces at the small table. 

“You deserve all the happiness available to you. You are so lucky to have each other,” you finish the toast and drink your whole glass. There is no applause, just sad smiles in response. You’re not asking for much, you never had.

Tony and Pepper share a quick kiss, thanking everyone around the table quickly as the two cakes are being cut. Their wedding was limited, with only a few people in attendance. Whoever was left. Tony’s cabin could obviously accommodate more people, but he had only requested the gathering of those he could stomach to see. But when that turned out to only be Pepper and Happy, he was forced to open the doors to more. 

So, you accepted your chocolate cake from Rhodey as he handed it to you. Shared some quick chit-chat with Steve and Natasha; greeted Thor as he made his first appearance in a while, hair now longer and baggy clothes hanging from his body, a tortured smile on his aging face; and sat through Happy’s own speech, enjoying his refreshing and joyful attitude. 

But now you stood in front of the kitchen sink, staring at the hidden picture frame behind the mugs - a reminder of what was really missing from this special day. 

You studied Peter’s awkward smile and demeanor, his expression youthful and frozen in time. He became foggy, silver clouds blotting his cheeks and his hair went white, and soon the sink sounded with a tiny ‘clunk!’ as you wept silently. 

You felt a hand slide into your own, squeezing with care and understanding. You looked up to see Steve, his eyes watching your face. He gave you one more gentle squeeze, the same tortured smile as Thor’s on his beautiful face, and walked to his room to retire for the night. 

     Glass raised in the air, you swallow in hopes of not choking over any word because of your nerves. 

“Here’s to you,” you start, already deciding this was going to be like pulling a band-aid. “May this world treat you kind, and that you are kind to each other, and that it’s all that matters.”

Steve forgets to drink. He can’t seem to shake the feeling of wanting to cry.

     Everyone watches as Steve leads you onto the dance floor which is intimidating with its glittering violet light and marble that resembles polished glass. If these were the decorations for the rehearsal dinner, Steve can’t even begin to bet on how tomorrow’s going to look. 

Steve holds you close, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other framing your spine. It’s like a tight hug. “Do you enjoy dancing?”

You step on his foot once again. “Shut up, Steve. Tell me your real thoughts.”

“Who, me?”

“Steve.”

“You suck at dancing.”

“There it is.”

     It isn’t hard to sneak away once everyone piles onto the dance floor. Steve shares a few dances with your aunts before excusing himself to use the bathroom. 

The mission itself goes rather smoothly. Infiltrating and collecting information was childsplay. Amateur. You’ve done it a thousand times and your father isn’t exactly a tech wizard. Neither is Seda. 

You find the electronic bank records Scott couldn’t yesterday, as well as a detailed spreadsheet (more like a hitlist) dating ten years back. In the same file, this actually only slightly encrypted (slightly), are the names of high-level players involved. It’s color-coded, some names familiar because of their involvement with Hydra, and it’s only a matter of seconds before you notice that red means eliminated, black means still at large, and blue means ally. 

There’s a lump in your throat as you scroll through and find Steve’s name, thankfully in blue. It’s expected, so you simply move on, until you find yours. And it’s in black. 

It should terrify you, have you running for the hills and tucking your tail between your legs but you’re won’t because Steve’s name is blue. 

That’s all that matters. 

There’s still no concrete information about the shipment, nothing online or on a loose post-it note. It’s non-existent and that’s suspicious and you don’t know why you don’t voice that to Steve. He’s listening at the door and responding to Sam’s questions. You and Scott are the hackers of the group after all. 

You scan through drawers and cabinets, snapping photos of things you can’t take just yet and filing the papers you can. Papers detailing contracts and miscellaneous connections: lawyers, doctors, politicians, police. Once that’s done, you shrink the evidence to the size of a fingernail with the help of Scott’s tech and hide it in your bra. 

Surprisingly enough, the two of you are able to slip out of the office and the first couple living rooms undetected. Until Jackeline herself appears, pulling down her dress as she exits the bathroom. Steve, stunned by the presence of anyone, pulls you toward his chest with unfocused strength. You hiss loudly and naturally go to cup your injured elbow. It takes a moment for Steve to realize what he’s done and who he’s done it to. 

Jackeline nearly stumbles over her heels out of pure clumsiness but her mouth parts as she notices you and the harsh sound you make. If she truly saw or heard anything, she’s keeping it to herself it seems. 

“Ernesto wanted to see me before we called it a night,” Steve says, letting go of your arm and taking a step back. He doesn’t outright say he’s sorry; he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to. So he braves a smile, sends you a look, and excuses himself. 

No conversation ever comes naturally - or, rather they take at least minimal effort from either party. You say the first thing you can think of and that’s to congratulate her again. 

Your rambling sort of sounds like the toast you gave earlier, but Jackeline either doesn’t want to embarrass you or simply doesn’t notice. She waits for the pause in your voice before she finally speaks.

“Before I start, don’t hate me for this.”

“That’s not a good way to start a sente-” Your face is smacked to the side absurdly hard and you can feel the sting at the base of your neck. You look back at your sister with wide eyes.

“You couldn’t leave the world dead? He was finally dead!”

Baffled, you rub at your sore cheek. “Why am I the one getting the most blame for that? I followed a fucking raccoon around and I didn’t even snap my fingers!”

“Sorry,” she blinks, eyebrows scrunching as she thinks of the next thing to say. “Sorry, I just… it was that easy to kill him and then he just… wasn’t.”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but you were also dead.”

“I was.”

“And we brought back trillions.”

“I know.”

Never once did you wonder what your siblings might have thought. More than half of them were separated from this life, while a few remained and conquered their allowed sectors. Ernesto had never discussed which of his children would take over his seat. But when he was dusted and Seda assumed power, it was clear not one sibling wanted anything to do with it. Or they were just too scared to outright disobey Seda and his tyranny.

Jackeline stands tall, shoulders straight and chin held high. She didn’t seem to worry about the repercussions of her actions - she knows who you are and what you are capable of. The smack seemed deliberate but restrained.

“So?” It’s the only word you can muster up.

“Please don’t judge me.” Her confidence falters and her eyebrows push down even further. “I know you know.”

“You gotta spell it out because I know a lot of things.”

Sighing deeply, she grabs the hand you’re using to rub at your cheek. She grips it tightly as she speaks. “I love him. But he’s impossible to love now and I can’t do anything about it.”

“Oh, Jackeline…”

You could have contacted her. You were on social media - you could have followed her, maybe messaged her annually - hell, called her once in a while to simply check in. The ticket you got was always a temporary one: go to school and find a way to make the trade routes easier to travel. School finished, you found Fury, and you created an alternate identity and background plan to trick your family into doing just what they ordered. And during all that time, Jackeline was barely in her pre-teens, probably scared and alone and missing her only sister. This was just you throwing that smack out of proportion but there was truth in it all. Wasn’t there?

“Julian’s okay. I agreed to this arranged marriage. I’m sure I can grow to love him,” she shrugs, biting her lip as it begins to quiver.

Her eyes are no longer happy - perhaps that was the wrong word to use after she had just confided in you about the reality of her upcoming union. But they definitely seem more dull in comparison to the joyfulness she presented earlier tonight.

“Jackeline, you don’t have to-”

“No, I was gone those five years. He had to move on.” You drop your shoulders and lean forward to give her a hug. No matter how badly you wanted to wrap your hands around Ernesto’s neck, they had more use tenderly wrapped around your sister. 

Relishing the feeling for only a moment longer, Jackeline is ignited once again. “Besides, I should be telling you that! I saw the way that… that fascist pulled you. If he’s hurting you, I’ll kill him.”

Your eyes must be bulging out of your head. “Oh.” 

She looks at you as if you’re going to admit abuse and confide in her like she did you. “No, it’s okay. Steve’s perfect, he’s… wonderful.”

Jackeline shakes her head rapidly, “Don’t you lie to me. I know what I saw.”

“I’m not lying. But you gotta trust me. I’ll explain later-”

“Explain what?”

Seda breaks the conversation and you forget to curse inwardly. Instead, a mumbled ‘fuck’ is heard. It only serves to fuel the flame. Jackeline flashes a rehearsed smile, and she truly is your sister because for a sad moment she looks exactly like you.

“Explain why she never returned my calls to be my maid of honor! I swear, this one is always so busy she forgets I exist!”

“She is,” Seda agrees, grinning like he already knows what the original conversation was about. “Always busy.” 

Jackeline keeps the same smile and is about to continue fanning the flames when Seda interrupts again. “Jackie, your father wanted me to speak with your sister alone for a moment. It has to do with tomorrow’s shipment.”

“Yes, of course. Don’t keep her for too long, okay? Tomorrow’s a late start but we all need our beauty sleep.” Jackeline leaves and fails to look over her shoulder to double check on you.

Seda steps closer, arms swinging casually like he’s pondering the possibilities of what he could do without Steve present. But instead of focusing solely on him, you listen to the soft sound of Bucky’s voice through the mic as he tells you that he’s listening in and he’s here.

“What did she say to you?”

“Is it really any of your business?”

He snaps immediately, gripping your cheeks in one hand so you can’t move your head. “When will you learn to keep your goddamn mouth shut around me?”

“You asked.” Smacking his hand away would have been frowned upon before, but not anymore. Free reign if need be. “Besides, when will you learn that that will never happen?”

“You can’t believe anything she tells you. Ernesto’s only two daughters are mistakes, both threats to his reign. Never submissive, always asking questions-”

You grunt almost comically, “Men and their irrational fears of women… What did I ever do to you?”

He pauses and you notice how his angry eyes always seem to water from his frustration. “You brought him back.”

“I also brought back trillions.”

“You know,” his face does something unpleasant. “Before Jackeline was dusted, she had been seeing that priest.”

“How could you possibly know-”

“He was so devastated by her loss. Found God, became a changed man.”

“Seda, what are you playing at?”

“She came back.” He lifts one finger. “He couldn’t resist.” He raises another. “Didn’t take long for Ernesto to find out.” The third one is the last, and he mimics a small explosion as he concludes. “But don’t worry, we took care of him.”

You never once believed the Devil was this angry, red demon with horns atop his head and a sharp tail, voice booming as he ruled the underworld with the weapons of pain and suffering. He didn’t possess or haunt random places. If anything, the Devil himself was simply a metaphor, a representation of the evil in a living world. It only made people comfortable to create an image, no matter how ridiculous.

Once you even thought the Devil was Hades, and he wasn’t all that bad when it truly came down to the root of all problems. He oversaw the underworld but he didn’t take life, he didn’t cause the pain, he simply watched and ruled. That maybe Hades was real considering Thor was, and he was just chilling in the underworld bored out of his mind.

But the evil the Devil represented was a constant in this world already, in your life from start to finish, and Seda’s eyes held something unspeakable. Dark brown eyes almost black, left cheek twitching with the urge to smile grotesquely, the tense nature of his broad shoulders. He was no massive man, a few inches taller than you, but he was a giant in a world in which Hades lacked and the Devil persisted.

“But Julian-”

Seda scoffs, “Julian was her rebound. Got mixed up in the business, with Ernesto  - but I don’t doubt he loves Jackeline.”

You’re this close to breaking the man’s fingers. He doesn’t stop counting his supposed triumphs. “When were the pictures taken?”

“Don’t do that,” he laughs as he finally steps away from you. “Ask your real question.”

Your smile was involuntary. So was Seda’s. It was the one thing you had in common: smiling at things that weren’t funny. “Did you threaten him? Torture him? Kill him yet?”

“... Jackeline will never know.”

Your mouth parts slowly like you’re still digesting his words. “You unimaginable bastard.”

If you had to bet, you would have placed all your money on Ernesto being the giant to fear. He had hurt you in countless ways, used you and discarded what he didn’t like, put you in the line of fire for his own gain. He had taken pleasure in knowing you hurt, in knowing what you had lost and suffered. He mocked your sacrifice time and time again. And there was a sentence you had never uttered out loud for fear of what you might do, or what anyone hearing you might do, that Ernesto had said one chilly November night only a year after the world returned. It was a thought so suppressed you almost always forgot it had been real. ‘A shame the Widow did what she did - what an unbelievable asset wasted over something pointless.’

No one outside your circle could possibly understand. They didn’t have to - but to dismiss the main reason he was retaking his tainted throne... insanity. 

But something in Seda’s voice moved even the most dormant areas in your soul. The giant was a man with nothing and everything to lose but with the power to choose which. Staring at him for too long prompted an uncomfortable sting across your waterline like his glare burned. Such a normal looking man with short dark hair and an aging face. He stared at you with a set look, one that told you he knew something you didn’t. Like he controlled giants even bigger than him. He wasn’t Hades, who restrained himself and hid in the shadows of a world he was forced to rule - he was the Devil’s metaphor, with red strains licking his tan skin and eyes sharp enough to puncture.

With a small tilt of his head and a strangled grin, he finally turns to leave. “Have a safe drive home.”

     After saying a quick goodbye to Jackeline and securing the estate, you hurried to get to your car and leave. Ernesto had just sent you a quick nod of the head and reminded Steve he needed to see him again before the wedding started. All your leftover energy literally went into pulling open the passenger door. 

Out of instinct now, you wait until the car is past the gates and a good mile from the hidden entrance before speaking freely.

“We get everything?”

The night is dark and you can barely see the outline of the trees. The sky is covered with gray clouds and there are no lampposts to provide light. It’s really just your headlights. “I think so. I think.”

Steve can sense the hesitancy in your answer. “What’s wrong?”

You shake with an exaggerated shiver, “Seda was being creepy… just more than usual.”

“What do you mean?” Steve was probably communicating and online with Sam during his conversation with Ernesto and completely missed the one you had with Seda.

“Fuckin’ didn’t think it could get weirder, but Jackeline mentioned how this was basically an arranged marriage and then Seda,” you stop suddenly. The uneasiness was creeping back. 

“An arranged marriage? Fuck, what else is this mission going to throw at us?”

‘Captain?’

Steve’s hands accidentally swerve the steering wheel as response to the small fright. “... Was that your phone or mine?”

You fumbled through your mini purse for your phone. “Me. Hey? Friday?”

‘The one and only. I hope that didn’t frighten you because I really need your attention right about now.’

Steve chuckles, eyes straight ahead as he drives. “That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”

‘My readings are picking up something strange. The vehicle, even if I’m not able to virtually connect, seems to be stalling.’ Torres did curse you two before you left for renting a car made before 2013.

“What do you mean? It’s working just fine.” 

You set your phone down on the dash to start looking around the interior of the car.

‘The pedal, yes Captain. But I’m afraid my readings are focused on the brakes.’

You bite your tongue and scrunch up your nose. What else could possibly happen tonight? “That’s always fun to hear, great. Greaaaat.”

“Friday, what are you picking up?” Steve’s voice is more stern and even if he’s not doing it on purpose, he’s trying to ignore your coping mechanism of joking during dire situations.

‘It seems that when they took the vehicle for parking, they attached something to the brake lines. Sort of like a trigger sensor. Do not slow down.’

“We’re stuck? We can’t stop?”

‘Everytime the Captain de-accelerates, the sensor heats up. That’s what my readings are.’

“Fuck,” you unclipped your seatbelt and turned your body toward Steve. “Fuck!”

“Friday, what do we do?” The least Steve could do is be the level-headed one here.

‘Exactly what you’re thinking, Captain. The shield’s in the trunk.’

“We can’t exactly get to it!” You don’t mean to scream at Friday. You’re sure she’s used to adrenaline induced attacks guided toward her and never about her.

‘The burners were produced by Stark Industries for our very own spy unit. They are equipped with a taser, flashlight, and laser.’

Jumping so your feet were planted firmly on the passenger seat, you make sure everything is in place: the stolen files, your gun, your phone, and earpiece. “Keep your foot on that pedal, Rogers. I don’t feel like blowing up tonight.”

He releases a shaky breath, hands turning pale from the grip he has on the steering wheel. “You and me both.”

“Friday?” Your voice is only slightly timid, but you manage to move your body out from the front seats and to the back.

‘The laser, Agent Y/LN. Cut through the seats.’

Nodding along to her instructions, you search for the burner under your skirt and unstrap it from the holster. Pulling its ancient antenna outward, Friday verbally guides you through the very simple instruction. The laser blasts out unexpectedly at first making you squeal, which in turn causes Friday (a literal AI) to chuckle. You’re thankful the antenna was facing the back seats already.

“Doing good back there?”

You respond with a low grunt as you carefully carve out the largest rectangle you can create. “You better have shoved the thing close. Any stop signs up ahead?”

Steve’s getting worried now, but instead of putting you more on edge, he hides it pretty well. “Thank god this place is in the middle of nowhere.”

You don’t even give his response acknowledgement as you finally pull the leather, metal, and weird cushion filling away and spot the shield. “I got it, got it, got it.”

‘My sensors suggest you’ll have a good five seconds to escape the vehicle once the Captain releases the pedal.’

You make sure your hair is in the tightest ponytail known to man and that your skirt is bunched up in your free arm. You strap the shield onto the other. “Steve, you gonna be alright?”

His eyes are still focused on the road, but he braves a look in the mirror back at you. His voice is stern but not demanding. “I know you hate the damn shield but bend your legs, jump sideways, and tuck your head.”

“Yeah,” you nod along. Damn straight you’ll put your hate aside for one second if it’s here to save your life. “You better jump on time, you understand me?”

“Sam,” Steve keeps the speed steady and tries to ignore the way his heart is pounding from the sound of you kicking open the back door. “Sam, Widow. Widow.”

Before you jump, the asphalt a never ending, rapid glare of absolute darkness, you leave your phone on the seat in case Steve still needs her. “Friday, send Sam and Torres our location. They’re the only ones who can fly in undetected. Tell them what you told us.”

‘Will do, Agent Y/LN.’

“Be careful.”

You smirk at him, “Don’t be a hero and crash this one into the ice, yeah?”

You don’t wait for his reaction and instead take the plunge. The shield makes a hard impact with the asphalt down below, screeching for what seems like an eternity before slowing down. You did as instructed: knees tucked into your chest as far as you were able, head doing the same. By the time the ride finally ends and you’ve gone partially deaf, you can make out the sound of a loud explosion a close distance away. The heat from the sudden burst of wind nips at your face. You’ve also gone partially blind. 

Your poor boots are definitely ruined and there’s a faint tell of a bruised ankle in the works. The arm attached to the shield will also need to be popped back into place - it shouldn’t feel this loose. Luckily, your head and torso were completely unscathed. 

Lifting yourself up the best you could without straining anything too much, you noticed the car still in flames but driven off the road. 

“He jumped, he jumped, he jumped,” you repeat, limping as quickly as you could, shield still attached to your arm. The closer you get the clearer everything becomes, regardless of the smoke. “Steve.”

You squint through the orange light and the dark of night. The fire wasn’t all that loud in its crackles and it doesn’t take you long to realize while tapping your ears that you lost your earpiece. 

“Steve,” you try again, adrenaline still pumping but panic seeping in. As if on cue, you can make out his body laying far away from the car relatively unharmed. “Ah, shit.” You drop down on your knees and wince involuntarily. Slapping his cheeks doesn’t wake him up, neither does gently shaking him. You don’t want to do anything to hurt him more. 

The sound of gravel popping kicks you back into spy mode. Hide. This was a hit, of course it was, and they were coming to see their job done. 

“You so owe me,” you groan as you unstrap the shield to throw it into the woods, the faint tell of it hitting a tree enough to make you work faster. You hook your arms underneath Steve’s armpits and bend your knees, breathing in deeply and out a few times before pulling him with all your strength. There’s pain shooting up your arm but you try to ignore it. Small whimpers escape you as you pull harder and finally make it a good distance from the wreckage. You sit Steve, still unconscious, behind one of those massive pine trees and sit next to him after retrieving the shield. 

It’s only two black SUV’s that come to check their hard work. They’re bending down and using their own fire extinguishers, snapping their own photos, the works. It isn’t until Seda walks over to admire the wreckage that you have to bite your bottom lip to keep from screaming. 

You’re seated in front of Steve now with the shield in front of you when a sudden movement to your left startles you. Before you scream, however, a hand covers your mouth. 

“Shh, shh.” Sam. Your eyes fill with tears. 

“I’ve got him. Torres is coming for you, alright? I’m the only one who can carry him out.”

It doesn’t take much to convince you. You’re silently helping Sam strap Steve against his chest as Seda and his men are now investigating the woods. You can hear them close, cursing and yelling about finding you. 

“Go a little further. Down there,” Sam points in front of you. “Torres is parked and waiting. Go.”

“Don’t drop him.” Sam stifles his laugh. 

You follow his directions, limping as quickly as you can, and finally find Torres, your second knight in shining armor of the night. 

    After an all clear from the medical team, Steve is left alone in your hotel room to rest. He still hasn’t woken up but Helen isn’t worried since his scans show no major damage. Small talk with the rest of the team fills in the time but it’s like you’re not really there, merely a participant on a loop. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth and you’re covered in scratches and smoky ash and you can’t shake the feeling of wanting to kill something. 

Your father wanted you dead. And showing up to the wedding was just going to anger him more but it had to be done. But you were tired, so fucking tired, tired to the point where you couldn’t sleep or rest.

You let your hair down but stay in your tattered clothing, making yourself useful as best you can. You answer questions, you review footage, you draft up some reports. Bucky tries to sit you down at one point, but he backs off when you simply shake your head and give him that famous broken smile. 

You’re sitting at your desk trying to save some of your phone’s cloud through the connected email. Sam has already ordered you a new phone. On the computer to your left, you’re scanning and uploading the files you stole tonight. On the right, your little butterfly is transcribing conversations from yesterday. 

The transcription is finished before the uploads. It prints. 

SEDA: ‘Ernesto needs to know how many more women we can get from Jonathon. I thought you said your Italian contact was up to date?’

UNKNOWN: ‘He is. But the women are coming from here instead. Got a load of ten just now.’

SEDA: ‘The shipment goes out during the wedding. Not before, not after. We can’t fuck this up for Ernesto and we cannot have the stars and stripes finding out.’

UNKNOWN: ‘Ernesto plans to mention it to him tomorrow.’

SEDA: ‘Then make sure he keeps quiet about it.’

The bitter taste in your mouth returns and you have to run to the nearest bathroom.

     Steve wakes just an hour after, disoriented but able to discern who he is. “What happened?”

You’re standing at the foot of his bed, having just got there a few minutes before, practically on the verge of tears. “... Did you know?”

There it was. Any hope of truly coming to terms with this new world order or his role in it, any hope of feeling like he did before he succumbed to the American war propaganda and became a science experiment, crumbling before him. The heavy weight that were your shoulders, crumbling like shaky mountains. His own, tense and straining and urging him to get out of bed. 

He’s been in the trenches when the smell of gas and blood clogged his nostrils and made him dizzy. He’s experienced loss a thousand times over, just heinous instances of despair where he swore he was torn in two. He’s lost on his own accord and pretended like the world was still on its axis. 

And he knew his time was up. He just thought he’d have more than a day to enjoy it.  “I was going to tell you.”

It’s like the air is punched out of you. “You knew?”

“Please, listen, please,” he scrambles out of bed.

“What the fuck, Rogers?”

“Ramirez told us yesterday. I swear I only found out yesterday. Yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” You’re stepping away from him. He’s almost on his hands and knees and you’re stepping away from him. “Before?”

Steve makes a pained noise. “Yes, but please-”

“No! You kept this to yourself and you had the fucking audacity to share the same bed as me?”

“Please, let me explain-” He tries to reach out but you side-step him. He reacts like you’ve shot him.

“Don’t touch me, Steve!”

“Please, just let me explain. We all know - Bucky, Sam, Torres, we all know.”

Your face does something he’s never seen it do. “Fuck?”

He’s talking faster now, words just spilling on the floor and into the air and he doesn’t know what else to do. “We’re tracking it. We have a plan set. We were supposed to tell you tomorrow before the wedding.” He stops to take in a breath. “I was going to tell you.”

“You went behind my back.”

“If I would have told you, you would have done something horrible tonight! We need your father alive to find those people!”

Eyes wide in shock and anguish, you step further away from him. Each step was the equivalent of a dagger plunging deep into Steve’s heart, twisting and burning its way to the depths of his vulnerability. He wanted to succumb to the pain - after all, he deserved it.

“That would have been my choice to make!”

Now he pushed forward, shoulders hunched and palms turned upward as if he was pleading for a crumb of understanding. “I was gonna kill him.”

He drops to his knees, arms wrapping around your waist. You remained perfectly still, a tree stump with no cover. “I was gonna shoot him between the eyes when I first found out. But if I had done that, then we would never know the location of those people.”

His weight was pulling you down and you felt his wet cheek against your stomach. “I deserved to know.”

His grip tightened, “You did. But if you would have known-”

“I would have known. Period.”

He had to know how much he weighed. But Steve leaned his body onto yours harder, afraid you would vanish and god forbid turn to dust. It didn’t really register in his mind that, even though he was holding you in place, you weren’t exactly trying to escape his hold either. 

He had let you go once and he’ll be goddamned if he let you go again. 

“It ate me alive. I hated doing this-”

You pushed against his shoulders and sensed his reluctance to let go. Instead, you look down at him and tense your jaw. “Steve, you don’t hate me, do you?”

His face dropped and his grip loosened. You should just slap him across the face, Steve thinks, because how in the world were you thinking that at this moment? Never did he think you would find a way to twist this - to somehow blame yourself for his mistake. Took a long time to see it, but you were just as righteous as he was. It would get you both killed someday. 

“Why do you think that? What in the world would make you think that after all this time? After everything?”

He lets you push him away so he could stand but he makes sure to keep his hands on you. A tangible promise that you are real. 

“You agreed to help me catch a drug lord. You didn’t sign up for this extra mess.”

“We may not always know what we’re up against,” Steve began, sniffing and wiping at his wet face. God, he felt like such a mess. “But I could never fucking hate you. Don’t even think that.”

“You sure?” your voice cracks, hands slightly shaking from the need to touch him too. “Captain America didn’t sign up for this.”

He shakes his head almost violently, “No, no. Don’t go there. I am not him, I haven’t been him in a long time.”

“Steve-”

“No! I’ve hated the title for a while now. I’m done. I’ve hated my reflection for years and years.” The tiny whine in the middle of your throat gurgled and your hands moved instantly to cup his cheeks.  “I represent no one but myself. I’m tired of others thinking I’m the same man from ten years ago, or the same man from the forties, or the same man from last week just because they’re enamored by that star on my chest.”

He tilts his head to lean into your touch, “I am helping you because it’s the honorable thing to do. I signed up for this work, I intend to finish it. Not Captain America, but me - Steve, me.”

“You’re still making me feel like it’s something you have to do.”

“I admit that I was never overly fond of the idea of being wrapped up in this,” Steve admits, hands now cupping yours over his cheeks. “But toppling this empire will keep you safe.”

As heartwarming as that sounded, you broke the fantasy. “The minute we take the giants out, they’ll elect someone new.”

“But we take the giants out. The giants that hurt you.”

He’s right, like always. 

“Steve,” you say quietly, bringing his face closer to kiss away his tears. You’re struggling to keep the tippy-toes and your ankle is screaming for a break, but you persist. “You should have told me.”

“I know.”

“No more secrets.”

“None, I swear, I promise.”

Biting your lip to keep from crying, you make sure his eyes are locked on yours before you speak. “I’m not walking away this time. I’m not leaving you. Not again.”

Steve’s mouth releases a big burst of air like he was holding it in, and he wraps you in a hug that promises the same.

~

TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess​ @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress​

A/N: Wooooo that took forever lol xxMoni

[bitchiha]

Oh my goodness!! I just saw your hc for the pregnant s/o for Sasuke, Hashi, and Madara, and it’s so good 🥺💕 Can you please do the same one for Itachi, Kakashi, and Shikamaru, too? 🙏🏼🙊

A/n: Ahhh!! Thank you!! I’m sending you some virtual hugs and a virtual kith <3 also if you search masterlist on my profile you can read some pregnancy hcs I did for Itachi previously!

✎ Itachi, Kakashi and Shika w a Pregnant S/O!

Itachi Uchiha

I previously did some HCs for itachi and a few others so I’ve linked it there for you! Just click on his name and it’ll take you to the post :)

Kakashi Hatake

He’s excited asf tbh. I also don’t think he’ll be very nervous at first.

I mean like he’s put up with Team 7, one of them being a knuckle headed Jinchuuriki, another being a girl who constantly punches knucklehead and pines after Sasuke, a leaf ninja who happen to go rouge and join the Akatsuki and also planned to destroy and kill everyone in the Leaf. So a baby seems like a walk in the park at first.

He tells Team 7 like right after he hears the news.

You probably won’t tag along because your tried asf and Kakashi just smothered you in hugs and kisses.

They’ll be hyped asf and expect a lot of support from then and also Gai too, but Gai will probably just cry a lot tbh.

“My rival! Oh Kakashi! Y/n! You’re having a child! The power of youth is strong!!!!!!”

He may not have a clue how to handle a lot of pregnancy struggles your having but.. he’s a good problem solver.

When you start craving weird stuff he’ll tease you for it 100%, but he’ll also remember your mood swings and have to backtrack some of his comments.

He’ll help you make some of the weird cravings and will be more than willing to run to the store to pick up ingredients if you two don’t have any. You’re carrying his baby after all, like if the shawty wants pickles and Nutella, he’ll get you pickles and Nutella. Don’t think he won’t force you to eat healthy meals too though because he’ll be a huge pest about it.

The mood swings are so amusing to him. Like one second you wanna shred him up into pieces and the next your slobbering kisses all over him. He knows you’re not gonna do anything rash and brushes off your outbursts, he’s the most tolerant person when it comes to that stage tbh

Definitely summons Pakuun and the other ninja hounds to watch you while he’s out doing some ninja business for a few hours. If he’s gonna be gone for a while he will bring you to Sakura’s or at least make her check up on you regularly while the ninja hounds watch you.

He’s not usually super over protective, but if it’s coming down to his s/o and his child he will go full mama bear mode. Don’t try him <3 he will end anyone who wants to mess w you

So fucking happy when the baby bump starts growing. Like I said before in a diff head canon, Kakashi is a slut for cuddles, so expect him to rest his hands gently on the baby bump when you cuddle.

When you start getting super affectionate with him he’s all ears. You spend a lot of time in your apartment together because you need rest, so if you wanna cuddle all day he will not complain. It’s like heaven to him.

Shikamaru Nara

He’s the type to be shook asf at first tbh. Like he’s definitely happy but very shook. Then once it sinks in he’s all chill again.

Tells Ino and Choji first and they’re actually super helpful. Ino will buy the best maternity clothes for you and she’ll also buy the best baby clothes. Your child will be the best dressed, next to hers of course. Choji will come in handy w the food cravings. We will come back to that

Also he probably tells Kurenai next, obviously she will be the most helpful because she’s had the most experience w this kind of stuff. Then of course he’ll pay asumas grave a visit and tell him too.

At first he’d be nervous, but the more he thought about it the more he realized that the two of you will have so much support and help. So really he’d end up being the one to calm your nerves.

He’s also so good at handling your mood swings. It will take some time though. Like the first time you were yelling at him about something he’ll say “what a drag” and then you deadass just start crying and he’s like???

He’s so prepared the second time around though. Like you wanna try and toss the shoe that he left in the middle of the floor at him because he’s a lazy fuck? well, he just shadow possession justus your ass. Then he’ll make you sit on the couch and watch tv. At first you’ll be yelling and trying to reject his jutsu but then he turns to your favourite channel and you’re all like “Shika!! I’m gonna strangle you for this- oh hey, it’s my favourite show!”

Probably ends up being able to talk you out of a hysterical tempered moment or a crying one. Like idk how, but he’s real good at that. It takes a little while, but once he gets the hang of it, it makes everything so much easier.

He will 10/10 bring Choji over when you start having weird food cravings. I feel like choji would be happy to try some of the weird ideas you have in mind. This way Shika won’t be the one who has to eat with you. There is no way he would ever actually eat salad with whip cream or whatever other weird craving you had. So if Choji is more than willing, then be his guest.

When the bump starts to grow he would be so happy. Like everytime his eyes go over it he can’t help but smile to himself. He’ll start to get more affectionate with you the more it starts growing tbh.

Like you’re the one whose supposed to get clingy and affectionate the further into the process but.. he’s initiating a lot of the affection. Like just the thought of you carrying his baby is enough to make him feel all happy and warm. Probably kisses the top of the bump every so often.

I think he’s not as overprotective as the other boys just because he’s a bit more reasonable than them. At the beginning of your pregnancy he’d let you go out on your own, but once it’s nearing the last few months to the due date he’ll take the initiative to come with you on walks and pick up up or drop you off from your friends house, etc. 

[cottoncandyjester]

heyo I was wondering if I could have some tendou comfort sex for a transgender y/n (ftm) who got deadnamed/misgendered and feel rlly bad about it? just tendou praising them and telling them how valid and handsome they are ♡♡ tysm!!

Oh as a trans man I felt like this was personal

this made me feel all warm and nice so thank you for asking for such a thing💖

[D/N]= dead name

Warning this story contains: wholesome sex, tendou being goofy during sex, praise, slight angst in the beginning

A normal date, it was supposed to be a normal date. You and Tendou went out for boba then walked around the mall hands laced together while the redhead was telling you some story about work

"so he ordered a custom made chocolate to look like babydicks and I was like oh alright cool but he wanted the inside to be cream filled and I didn't know what to say! Like what am I supposed to say when this big guys looks me in my eyes and tell me that he wants three dozen baby dic-"

"hey! [D/N]!"

Tendou's very amusing story was interrupted by a loud voice along with loud footsteps before you could react you felt a sharp slap on your back and you turned around to see a familiar group of people

"yo! Girl where have you been!? After high school you completely just vanished"

You were tense your heart hammering in your chest as you looked at the faces of the people who made your life a living hell, yet here they were acting sweet and nice..they weren't even saying the right gender.

I wanna go home

Stop saying that name

Leave me alone

You weren't even listening as the group of friends ranted about your old high school days, you felt dizzy and like you wanted to puke and before you knew it you felt something wet on your cheeks.

"heyyy, you guys have been talking for a while and irs all been trash. So could you shut up?"

Tendou's voice snapped you out the panic attack you were in and you felt the male pull you close to his chest holding the back of your head tightly with an annoyed huff

"don't you idiots know gender? You've been saying her and she this whole time and using a weird name that's not his name..it's [y/n]!"

"huh? You changed your name, it's cause you wanna be like a boy? It's a lesbian thing yeah?"

Tendou tensed up and anger bubbled within him, he was going to make a scene but he felt you tugging his shirt which made him pause to look at you

"I wanna go, please satori"

That's all he needed to hear before he guided you away taking you home, the entire time you were silent which scared tendou since he couldn't get you to crack even a smile.

Once you two got home tendou watched you go to the room and he tried to think if a way to cheer you up and an idea came to him. He stripped before grabbing a can of whip cream before sneaking into the room only to burst it open and hear a loud surprised yelp from you

Your eyes landed on his dick before a sniffle came from you as you sat up

"not in the mood for banana sundae tori go away"

"come onnnn~ my cute boy don't want to have fun? [Y/n], babyyy"

His singsong like tone made you fight a smile as he crawled onto the bed before spraying whip cream in his mouth before making kissing noises while wrapping his arms around you rubbing his cream filled cheeks against yours before kissing you sharing the sweet treat with a french kiss

You pulled back laughing when tendou reached under your shirt and tickled your sides watching you curl up laughing before tendou grinned now shaking the whip cream once more

"there's my cutie! You know I love ya right? Those assholes today we're such jerks but I know you're my sweet handsome baby boy"

"s-satori-"

You felt tears in your eyes before bursting out laughing at the sight of tendou spraying whip cream up in the air randomly getting it all over his hair and chest

"what are you doing weirdo?!"

"hey! It's snow [y/n]!"

You were a laughing mess before hearing the whip cream can squirt signalling that it was empty so tendou tossed the can aside with a goofy shrug

"eh who needs that when I already have a sweet treat right here"

With that tendou kissed along your neck slipping your shirt off easily, now throwing it on the ground before he noticed you covering your chest with your arms

Tendou's eyes softened as he stared at you before softly moving your arms now kissing along your chest and down your stomach

"my handsome boyfriend, you're so cute and handsome its honestly unfair!"

He licked his lips as he started to pull your pants down but saw how nervous you looked so he slowed it down

"how about we keep it vanilla eh? Let me just show you how much I love you"

With a shaky nod you let him strip you down before he moved up pressing his forehead against yours now pushing inside you watching your face twist into bliss as he pushed deeper and deeper but he also made sure to be gentle since it was more about making love rather than feral fucking

"such a good boy, god I love you so much yknow that?"

"i-i love you too satori"

Tendou's thrusts were soft yet filled with pleasure he knew exactly where to hit to make you a moaning mess, hugging your body close to his as he whispered nothing but praise and love in your ear as his hands gripped your hips

"my perfect man, I don't care what anyone else says you're an amazing boy alright? [Y/n] I love you so damn much"

He couldn't help but chuckle at your small whines and moans muffled from your face buried into his shoulder. The sounds of the creaking bed, blissed out grunts, and tendou's hips slamming against yours filled the room as he kissed along your neck his words of praise being neverending even as his climax grew close

"I'm going to cum, cum with me babyboy, be a good boy and cum with me"

His command was all you needed as he gave one final thrusts soon filling you up as you tightened against him and had your own very intense climax, as the two of you started to come down from the high of orgasm a single thought crossed your mind

"s-satori?"

"hmm?"

"thank you, for that"

Tendou cracked a huge grin before he squeezed your cheeks together now smothering your face in sloppy wet kisses earning your laughter

"how did you get sooooo cute! [Y/N] you're the cutest boyfriend in the whole wide world!"

Hearing you laugh made his heart full of ease knowing that he can bring joy to your life no matter what anyone else says, a monster like him can make you smile.

[allyreactions]

The First Snow | NCT Drabble { Kim Jungwoo }

- MAIN MASTERLIST REQUESTS : CLOSED

🎄 12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST 🎄

____________________________

♡ pairings ; boyfriend! Jungwoo x gender neutral reader

♡ genre ; holiday cheer, fluffy fluff

♡ word count ; almost 1.0k

║ A/N : I got a little carried away with this, I didn’t intend for it to be this long. But regardless I hope you love it. This is probably one of my favorite drabbles. 

             ~ Admin Ally

It was almost tradition for you and Jungwoo to take a walk during the first snow of the winter season. He loves taking a walk through the neighborhood park and watching the gentle snowfall sprinkle down from the sky. The both of you would chat about your day and just enjoy the calming, peaceful moment as you watched the snowflakes fall around you. 

“It’s so beautiful out.” You said in awe of the weather. 

It appeared that there were others that felt the same way as you did. Your neighborhood park was filled with couples and young families also taking in the wonders of the first snow. Children ran around the playground, attempting to catch snowflakes on their tongues. 

“Mommy! I caught one!” A child proclaimed running up to his mother who was relaxing on a nearby bench. 

“Not as beautiful as you though.” Jungwoo said with a slight chuckle. 

He was always repeating little cheesy sayings like this, but it made him all the more charming in your eyes. 

“Oh, come on ..” You said, nudging his arm. “You always say that.” 

“But it’s true.” 

Jungwoo had always been sweet on you. He always made sure to give you compliments throughout the day, reassuring that you’re loved and cared for. It can be smothering at times, but he means well. He’d rather you feel smothered and ignored and underappreciated. He’ll never apologize for loving you.

A small gust of wind blew your hair in your face. The sharp cold cut through your skin. You regretted not wearing a hat.

Jungwoo stopped walking and let go of you hand. He extended each arm over your shoulders, grabbing ahold of your jacket hood and bringing it over your head.

“While you may be beautiful,” He said, brushing your locks from your face and adjusting your hood. “You’re not the smartest when it comes to dressing yourself properly in the winter.”

“Whatever,” You laughed off.

Your hand up flew up to his hair, playfully fluffing and making a mess of his hairstyle.

“You aren’t wearing a hat either, Mr. Smarty-pants.” You joked.

“Who said anything about me dressing properly?” He laughed.

____________________________

The both of you found a bench to sit on and take everything in. You watched the children run around the playground. A few of them struggled to make snow angels out of the light dusting of snow on the ground. Some attempted to throw ‘snowballs’ but actually ended up throwing more grass than snow.

There were couples walking around the paths, hand in hand. Taking advantage of the romantic moment that you and your boyfriend were. A few of them taking adorable selfies in the snow with their matching gloves and hats. Unfortunately, you and Jungwoo had missed that memo.

The wind grew stronger, each gust was colder than the last causing you to shiver. In a poor attempt to warm up, you leaned closer to Jungwoo, resting your head on his shoulder and clinging on to his arm.

“Babe, are you cold?” Jungwoo asked, ducking his head to peer at you under your hood.

“A little bit.” You stuttered as another cold wind gust cut through you sharply.

You swore that the grip you had on Jungwoo’s arm had to have been painful, or at least uncomfortable. You felt as if you would blow away in the wind like a balloon if you didn’t hold on as tight as you could. And sure, clutching onto your boyfriend’s arm didn’t make you any warmer, but it sure made you feel a little better.

“How about we head back home, yeah?” He suggested.

Jungwoo attempted to stand up, but the grip you had on his arm prevented him from moving.

“Babe, let’s go home if you’re cold.” He repeats.

“But I wanna stay outside a little longer.” You protested.

You admit that you sounded kind of childish, but you only get to spend the first snow with him once a year. And if you’re being honest, you didn’t want the moment to end. You wanted to hold onto this moment for as long as you can.

“Okay, we’ll stay out a little longer then, but how about we find some way to warm you up, huh?” Jungwoo asked.

You nodded your head.

“There’s a hot chocolate cart over there, let’s go get some.” Jungwoo proposed.

____________________________

Upon receiving your hot chocolate, you immediately brought the paper cup up to your lips and took a small sip. The boiling hot liquid was sweet, but it burned your throat going down. Though it was painful and caused your tongue to throb in pain, it warmed your insides.

“You got a little-“ Jungwoo said, gesturing to the whipped cream mustache on your upper lip.

You stuck out your tongue, attempting to lick it off. However, you couldn’t quite get all of it.

“You’re adorable, you know that.” Jungwoo laughed as he pulled out a napkin from his coat pocket, wiping the residual white substance from your face.

“Shut up!” You said blushing from embarrassment. It’s a good thing that your cheeks were already red from the windburn.

“Do you feel a little better now, baby?” Jungwoo asked.

“Yeah, a little bit. Thanks for the hot cocoa, Woo-ya.” You said before taking another sip, causing yet another whipped cream mustache to appear on your face.

Before you could wipe it off, you were met with a pair of lips. Jungwoo had leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your lips. His lips were hotter than the cocoa in your hands. His love instantly warmed you up.

“How about that, did that warm you up?” Jungwoo questioned, playfully raising an eyebrow.

“I’m definitely warm now. But ..” You started to started to giggle when you noticed that your whipped cream mustache had transferred onto his upper lip.

“You have a little something- you know what, nevermind ... it’s nothing.“ You said, brushing it off with a mischievous smile. 

[ducktracy]

188. porky’s poppa (1938)

release date: january 15th, 1938

series: looney tunes

director: bob clampett

starring: mel blanc (porky, porky’s poppa, narrator), bob clampett (duck)

it’s safe to say that 1938 was porky’s best year. speaking in terms of solo cartoons, that is. his cartoons were genuinely funny, stimulating, and he looked great appearance wise. 1939 the porky burnout started, and he was slowly reduced to a smiling stock character whose adversaries and costars were much more alive than he was.

as daffy (and later bugs) rose to popularity, porky slipped into the sidekick role, paired primarily with the duck. with that said, the porky/daffy cartoons are some of the funniest around, and i firmly believe the best cartoons for the both of them are the ones where they’re paired together—with a few exceptions, of course.

however, let’s not get ahead of ourselves: a great year of pig stardom awaits. porky’s father, who made a few appearances during the joe dougherty era, makes his final return. in a story that has loose similarities to the premise of porky’s railroad, porky struggles to convince his father that their cow, bessie, is a much better fit for the farm than the newfangled mechanical cow his father has his eyes on.

the introduction is one of the funniest aspects of the cartoon itself. a hand erases the title credits, scrawled on a blackboard, and fills in “PORKY’S POPPA... HAS A FARM”, mirroring the underscore of “old macdonald” (with substitute lyrics) below it.

a layout of the farm cuts to our pint-sized hero, grinning at the camera as the vocals sing “...and on this farm he had a pig: porky pig, you know.” bobe cannon animates porky struggling to sing along with the lyrics, his “oh buh-beh-boy!”s lagging with the beat. the music halts just in time for porky to pump his fists in frustration, not stuttering once as he grumbles “oh, skip it!”

repeatedly cutting back to the layout of the farm in conjunction with the lyrics is practically a gag within itself. the song grows increasingly absurd, with a goose honking horns, a cow showing off her legs as the vocals sing “with a little calf here, with a little calf there...”, struggling to keep up with the rapid pace of the song. bob clampett lends his own voice to a random duck (no relation to daffy!), following a hand pointing at certain areas of the farm and quacking (”with a little quack here, with a little quack there...”) 

finally, the duck in his psuedo-donald duck voice instructs “EVERYBODY SING!”, complete with some fun and unique typography. the entire song falls to pieces--before, the cutting back to the farm’s layout added an incongruous feeling of calm to balance out the wacky antics of the animals and the song. now, everything happens at once. the duck zips across the screen in a quacking frenzy, the mother cow shows off her baby calves, thrusting them to the beat of the music, the goose is a one man band of assorted horns, etc. blissful chaos.

things slow down as we cut back to porky, who smugly whips out a phonograph behind his back. the record is just him saying “oh boy!”, playing correctly to the beat of the music. he’s got this song number figured out... or does he?

even technology can’t conceal his stutter. the record begins to skip, mimicking the sound of his stutter, and porky smashes the phonograph to pieces as he slams it against the ground. the wordless yet furious stare he gives the audience as the dying record croaks out a distorted “oooooooh..... boooooooooy....” is nothing short of priceless. though he didn’t say a word himself during this scene, his motives, thoughts, and emotions are clearly visible. you can FEEL his pride at his solution, as well of the subsequent fury of his solution blowing up in his face. a wonderful end to a hilarious song sequence. 

“but on his farm, he has a mortgage... woe, oh woe, oh woe!” the score turns in to a mournful, minor key dirge, with anthropomorphic mortgage papers posing proudly on the farm. some very clever posing and metaphorical play as we fade to porky’s dad, moping around on the farm, the mortgage aligning with his silhouette and becoming a physical weight on his back. more playing with typography as the narrator reads aloud the words on the screen:

this is a parody of the march of time, a radio program who would often announce the death of a notorious person by declaring “and so, today, as it must to all men, death came to [name], [age].” even without the context, the gag is rather amusing, bringing a different change of pace to the cartoon with the addition of a narrator and the typography. knowing the source of the gag makes it hit just the right spot.

porky’s dad mutters about ruination, how he has no milk and no money, etc. mel blanc does a fine job of mimicking joe dougherty, maintaining the stutter and the low voice--in the dougherty cartoons, porky’s father was just dougherty’s natural speaking voice, whereas porky was sped up considerably. you can hear both at once here for comparison. 

we pan over to the cause of one of these stresses: their cow, bessie, has been quarantined (how timely!) for “hoof ‘n mouth trouble”, a play on hand-foot-and-mouth disease. clampett opts to take things just a step further--we truck inside the stall to see bessie posing for the camera, grinning with her foot INSIDE her mouth, batting her eyelashes and all. the “bull bontana” (bull montana) poster  plastered inside of her stall is a clever touch. 

after seeing that bessie’s production chart has dipped overwhelmingly into the negatives--a roll of paper unfurling at porky’s father’s feet, indicating just how poor the farm is doing--he places an “out of order” sign on the stall door.

suddenly, porky’s father grows aggravated. “i need to send you to the hamburger factory!” cue a close-up of bessie tearfully picturing her fate--a pile of burgers and hotdogs make up her figure. clampett would reprise this gag (albeit in a much more cruel manner) in porky’s last stand 2 years later, where daffy eagerly envisions a steaming hot hamburger in place of an innocent little calf. 

this is the second cartoon to make an ACME reference, the first being buddy’s bug hunt back in 1935. porky’s father phones up ACME mail order company, asking for “one cow--airmail”. context clues are just as important to the gag than the reveal itself: porky, his father, and bessie all become alert to the sounds of an airplane making a cacophony overhead. suddenly, a package bursts through the barn ceiling, floating to the ground with a neatly tied parachute. the animation appears to be the work of john carey, from the tall, pill-shaped eyes to the slow, drawn out way that porky blinks.

norm mccabe takes over to animate the grand reveal. lots of wonderful little subtleties: porky and his father are timed slightly differently, giving them both a natural sense of interaction and movement. there’s a lovely little accent on porky’s father opening the package by pulling a string--he jerks his head up slightly as he plucks the string, allowing the audience to feel the physical impact and snap of the pluck. it’s subtle, but very well done. 

instead of a flesh and blood cow, a mechanical hunk of metal slowly unfurls to life as the package opens. as porky’s father reads the label (The New 1938 CREAMLINED COW), porky himself objects to the new addition. “aww, eh-the-there ain’t no such animal!”

indeed there is: porky’s father loads a pile of hay into a chute, pressing down on the cow’s paintbrush tail. the cow pumps along to a brassy score of “old macdonald”, churning out milk from its metal udders, the milk pouring straight into an assembly line of bottles below. bob clampett’s puns are plentiful in this cartoon (notice how there’s no writer’s credit--he often said that he would write some of his earliest cartoons himself. i assume he wrote this one as well? i wonder how much input chuck jones had in the story?), but delivered nonchalantly, so they can actually be enjoyed. the cow caps the milk bottles by putting literal newsboy caps on top of the bottles, the paintbrush tail painting “cream paint” to the outside of the bottles and forming the illusion of cream. interesting business practices!

bobe cannon animates a delightful scene with porky. fun animation and fun dialogue make for a great combo. some very fluid, light, and fun animation of porky giving his pep talk as he hops around, swinging his arms, nonchalantly pushing his hat out of his face after getting so excited. “c’mon, eh-beh-beh-beh-bessie! we won’t let that old eh-neh-nuh-new fangled eh-ceh-co--heifer beat us. you just eat your uh-wuh-wee-weh-whea--eh-ha-hay, and show that eh-teh-eeh-eh-tin-can cow who can make the most...”

porky lowers bessie’s foot from her mouth by climbing on it, preparing to shovel a forkful of hay into her mouth, however, she shoves her foot right back in it, much to porky’s annoyance. “aww, every time you open your muh-mee-muh-me-eh-mou--kisser, ya put your eh-feh-eh-foot in it! eh-bee-bessie, you gotta eat! you eh-deh-dee-eh-don’t wanna be eh-seh-seeah-seeah-smothered in onions, eh-do ya?” 

treg brown’s sound effects of doors creaking as her leg is lowered is the perfect touch to the gag. porky struggles to feed bessie, eventually getting stuck in her mouth himself as he attempts to hold both legs down to no avail. he frees himself, just in time to hatch an ingenious idea.

his plan works: porky places the entire pile of hay onto bessie’s legs, who swallows it up whole, her mouth comically huge as she attempts to swallow it. porky is overjoyed, clapping at her efforts before rushing off to give her some privacy.

instead of porky just milking her like a regular farmer, clampett pushes the entire scenario further. porky paces around in the manner of an expectant father, accompanied by a soft score of “lullaby on broadway”. the sound of a baby crying prompts porky to do a gorgeously animated head shake of surprise--bessie hands him a milk bottle, which porky carefully swaddles and places in a basket. 

the charade continues, with clampett lulling us into a false sense of security with an already absurd gag. cue a gag that would have been incredibly risque in 1938: at about the fifth bottle, porky reaches out and finds that bessie hands him a bottle labeled “CHOC. MALT”, accompanied by an underscore of “i wish i was in dixie”. porky and bessie both grow bashful, but porky’s nonchalant whistling is cut to a half as bessie delivers yet another bottle. “gosh--eh-ceh-ceh-quin-eh-qui-eh--quart-tuplets!”

porky rushes over to his farther to share the good news. however, dad is too preoccupied with the fancy mechanics of the cow to pay bessie any mind. he shows porky a barrage of dairy-related puns churned out by the creamlined cow:

cottage cheese (cheese in the shapes of houses--and an outhouse for good measure--don the conveyer belt), limburger cheese (cheese slices with clothes pins pinned to their “noses” to ward off the stench), and swiss cheese (a cuckoo bird pops out of the cow’s mechanical side and sprays the cheese wheels with bullets, which turn into yodeling mouths). interestingly, mel’s voice for porky’s father changes in this scene--it’s still him, but the nasally undertones are absent. i wonder if he did this on a different day?

nevertheless, the staging of the next gag is genius. the majority of the screen is black, save for a small window revealing porky holding onto bessie’s udders. “c’mon, eh-beh-bessie! hurry eh... hurry eh... step on it!” the window expands to reveal bessie pouring a bucket of milk into a line of funnels (rather than udders), which are then evenly distributed to the bottles. “’ats a guh-geh-gee-eh-girl!”

mechanical cow seems to be doing just fine, plopping cherries on top of elaborate ice cream sundaes and milk shakes. the only fault in the system is the cow’s own personal whiskey bottle rolling down the assembly line, which it confiscates promptly. 

porky, on the other hand, is making do. with an ice block on her head, bessie churns out ice cream cones to the best of her ability. as the cones grow smaller and smaller in size, porky orders her to eat more hay, which she happily does so.

now, it’s cow vs. cow. the mechanical cow opts to play some dirty tricks on bessie, pouring a jar of vanishing cream it produced onto the hay bessie is eating. and, thanks to the law of cartoon physics, the milk bottles she hands porky disappear by the minute. though the effect of the bottles disappearing may not seem like much today, for 1938 the ink and paint department did a wonderful job of demonstrating the illusion that the bottles suddenly disappeared.

with the rest of the hay now gone thanks to a hefty glob of vanishing cream, porky and bessie engage in a wild goose (cow?) chase to find more hay. the mechanical cow gobbles up every square inch of hay in sight--at one point, bessie heaves a dubious shrug to the audience. i love how they made her hooves look like hands, but still remain identifiable hooves. the scramble animation she does as she dashes out of frame (with porky clinging to her like a horse) is wonderfully done as well.

both porky and bessie and the creamlined cow exit the barn, chasing each other around the farm. the mechanical cow physically turns into a vacuum cleaner, threatening to suck up the last remaining pile of hay. in a gag that’s reminiscent of the harman-ising days (is it the inclusion of the outhouse?), the cow-turned-vacuum rushes into a shed filled to the brim with hay. the audience merely watches the shed itself shrink in size as the cow gobbles up all of the hay, the final result a puny little outhouse. 

at last, the enemies reach a face-off. the last pile of hay--or, as porky puts it in his punny little way, “eh-thee-the-thee-that’s the last straw.” in a relatively tashlin-esque maneuver, clampett makes some fast cuts to heighten the suspense of the action. cut between porky and bessie to the mechanical cow to the pile of straw (facetiously labeled “MILK WEED”). the cuts grow quicker and quicker, the music crescendo-ing... 

until BLAM! in a loose parallel to the finale of rover’s rival, everything explodes at once. nuts and bolts rain in the sky, as do neat little bundles of hay. however, clampett doesn’t allow the audience to rest just yet--with bessie nowhere in sight, the mechanical cow continues to charge forth, seeking refuge in a hay to release a humongous pile of milk bottles. so high, in fact, that the shed (and cow) are elevated several feet into the air. porky’s a goner.

porky’s father, who had been absent for the past few minutes, reappears to declare the tin-can cow a winner, much to porky’s visible dissatisfaction.

yet it’s not a clampett cartoon without a twist! bessie pokes her head out of the mechanical cow’s mouth, mooing the ever popular catchphrase from the ken murray show: “mmmmmmwooooooooooah, yeeeeaaaaaah!” porky gives a celebratory “oh, boy!” as we iris out--the goose and duck from earlier poke their heads into the scene just before the iris fully closes.

this is an early porky cartoon that’s just plain fun. bobe cannon’s animation of porky serves as one of the many highlights, from porky getting aggravated with his phonograph to his excited pep talk towards bessie. corny as the opening number is, it’s a lot of fun at the same time--the intensity in increasing chaos is a prevalent theme to clampett’s cartoons. just look at the climax/ending of baby bottleneck!

i don’t have many complaints towards this cartoon, if any at all. it’s not my favorite porky entry, sure, but it’s most certainly an enjoyable watch and one of his better cartoons of the ‘30s. the visual puns aren’t nearly as hamfisted as ben hardaway’s (as we’ll soon discover), making them more enjoyable than some of the jokes present in, say, daffy duck & egghead. regardless, there are a lot of unique gags, fun animation, and amusing dialogue to constitute a watch.

the cartoon is up on HBOmax, but you can also watch it here!

[tiny-ghost-boi]

12 Gags/ Blindfolds/ Handcuffs/ Praise Aizawa

Warnings: sex, bondage, fourth wall breaks, ball gag, lots and lots and lots and looots of dirty talk

Reader’s Body Type: OH MY GOD IT’S ALWAYS GOING TO BE NEUTRAL 

NSFW Under the Cut

=============================================================

A sex store. How did you find yourself in a sex store with your two weirdest friends? Simple you-

“What about this one, Y/n?” Your eyes looked away from the wall to glance at Hizashi Yamada, who was holding up a large buttplug. Your face reddened and you turned back to the wall.

As I was saying, your-

“I think this one is perfect!” your eyes were forced away from the blank wall to look at Nemuri, holding up a fancy-looking vibe with a remote. You groaned and banged your head against the wall.

Anyways, your bi-

“But-”

“SHUT UP NEMURI! HIZASHI! I DO NOT WANT TO BE HERE!” you snapped (maybe it was the author, he was getting tired of being inturrupted). Your birthday was a few days away and your friends thought that you and your husband Shouta Aizawa needed to have sex that day. You didnn’t at all understand their interest in your sex life, but they had dragged you to a sex store to pick something new to try.

“Just, look around, okay? Pick something yourself. We’ll even wait outside!” Nemuri suggested kindly. You nodded, still embarrassed. The two of them walked away and you slowly turned around, eyes scanning the shelves of toys. You bit your lip nervously as you walked the aisles, contemplating asking a store clerk for help picking something out.

Your eyes caught something fluffy and pink and you stopped walking to look at it. A pair of handcuffs sat on the clearance shelf. Shouta usually used his capture weapon so you never had to buy them, but they caused something to spark in your heart, so you snatched them off the shelf, deciding to stay at the clearance shelf to see what else you’d find.

Your eyes soon landed on a blue ball gag, it wasn’t anything special, but you’d never used anything like it during sex. You grabbed it and quickly made your way to the counter to pay for the items.

You left the store and were almost immediatly cornered by your friends, badgering you to see what you’d bought. 

“I’m not telling you!” you exclaimed. “Just call an Uber so I can head home... my birthday’s tomorrow and I do not want to feel tired in the morning.” your friends exchanged a glance, before nodding as Hizashi pulled out his phone to call an Uber. Meanwhile, Nemuri continued to nag at you. Annoying best friends, amiright? You gotta love em.

You got home before Shouta, as usual, you set the bag with the toys on the counter alongside a note that said: For the night of my birthday~ That way, Shouta wouldn’t open it early. You then got ready for bed, climbing into the soft blankets and closing your eyes.

You woke up alone. That... was not normal. You sat up, seeing an impression in the sheets next to you, which meant that yes, Shouta came home and slept, but he woke up before you and went off for work. You’d spend your birthday without him. Disapointed, you got up and pulled on one of Shouta’s shirts, walking out of the bedroom and stopping in your tracks. There was a large plate stacked with pancakes, three bottles of whipped cream and a few sprinkle shakers nearby. Shouta was sitting at the table, a smile on his face.

Happy birthday, Kitten~ did you sleep well?”

Needless to say you absolutely melted on the spot.

The whole day was filled with romantics, he took you to see your favorite movie at a drive-in (the two of you just made out in the car the whole time), he took you to your favorites resturaunt for a fancy dinner, then he took you home. The whole time he was so sweet, so protective, so admiring, he treated you like a god, a deity, something to be worshipped. You felt like the only person in the world, that he had eyes only for you, you felt so absolutely in love.

You opened the door to your home as you walked back, still in a fancy outfit with Shouta close behind you, practically breathing down your neck. He’d wrapped his arms around your waist so walking had bene reduced to waddling so your legs didn’t bump into each other.

Your face was hotter than plasma, you just couldn’t believe how lucky you were that Shouta loved you, that he wanted to be with you. You had a sloppy smile on your face the whole day, and your jaw was beggining to hurt from all the smiling.

You shut the door behind you, turning to press a kiss to Shouta’s lips, and he grabbed your face, making out with you sloppily, eagerly choking you with his tongue and walking you to the table. He pressed you against it as you started to unbutton his shirt, pulling it off of him to feel up his abs. You pulled away from the soul-stealing kiss from the corrupted dementor and looked your boyfriend up and down.

You moaned at just the sight of him shirtless, hair down, sweaty and panting just from the kiss. You had no words, just sinking to your knees to undo his pants, but before you had the chance to suck him off, he put a hand on your head, looking down at you with lust-filled eyes.

“Kitty, I think you forgot something~” he purred, smirking down at you.

“Um...” you struggled to remember what he was talking about. “Please may I suck your cock, Daddy?” you begged. 

“You know you don’t have to beg on your birthday, Darling~ and it’s that bag you brought home yesterday. I wanna see what’s in it~” your face heated up, remembering the sex toys you’d bought.

You stood, watching him grab the bag before he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, taking you to the bedroom. He tossed you on the bed and upended the bag’s contents onto the sheets. His grin grew when he saw what you’d bought.

“Knew you were kinky, didn’t know you were that kinky~” your face heated up, and your buried your head in your hands.

“I just want to try it...” you whispered. Shouta crawled up to you, taking your hands in his and handcuffing you to the headboard. He then put the gag on you.

“Show me a #1 on your fingers, that’ll mean ‘continue.’” You lifted a single finger. “Good, #2 means ‘slow down,’ and #3 means ‘stop.’“ you nodded, glad he was giving you a safeword when you couldn’t speak. So... a safe-signal?

He ran his hands down your body, removing your clothes. He then removed his own. He wiggled down, pressing kisses along your body. He took pleasure in the way you squirmed, embarrassed and aroused. He licked up your sex, eyes borring into your soul.

“Mmmph~” you whined pathetically as he inserted his fingers into your hole, sucking on your sex at the same time. His eyes never left yours as you bucked up against his mouth and fingers.

“You’re so adorable...” he muttered against your skin. “So sexy, Kitten~ I love seeing you like this~” You whined, eyes glossed over with lust.

“I’m sure you want me to fuck you, but you can’t tell me what you want~” you whined, trying to tell him what you wanted. 

“Plss thck mm~” you moaned. Shouta hummed, lifting himself up and lining up with your entrance, slowly pushing in. 

“You feel so good~” he sighed in pleasure. “Such a good kitty for me~” 

You moaned into the gag as Shouta fucked you relentlessly. His thrusts differed greatly with his voice. He was so rough, yet so kind, and it brought you to an orgasm faster than you could with anyone else.

“Mmph~ mmm~”

“Shhh~ don’t waste your breath~” he whispered, sucking on your neck. “I love you~” You tried to say his name, tried to touch him, but the toys you’d bought were preventing that.

“Do you want me to cum inside you?” he murmured. “You want my cum, Kitty~?”

you bucked your hips into his quick thrusts, nodding esctatically. 

“Mmmmmph~”

Shouta pressed kisses to your neck as he spoke.

“Fuck~ K-kitty~” he groaned, hips stuttering against yours and cumming deep inside you.  He removed the gag and finally let you speak.

“T-thank you D-daddy~” you whispered. He reached up and took off the handcuffs. He then reached over to his discarded pants as you sat up at ran your fingers through his silky dark hair. You saw him pull a small box from his pants’ pocket, and your heart rate sped up rapidly. 

“Shouta?” you whispered, watching him slowly open it. A dazzling ring sat in the center of the box and you slapped your hand over your mouth, tears brimming in your eyes. 

“Listen, we’ve been dating fo-” he didn’t even have the chance to finish his sentence before you tackled him down, smothering him with kisses and shouting your answer.

“YES! Ohmygod Shouta, yes! Yes a thousand times, every day yes yes yes!”

“Babe, let me finish!” he laughed, inturrupted again by your lips. 

[random-mha-thoughts]

Fool (Kirishima x Reader)

Pairing: Kirishima x Reader

Genre: Angst

Inspo: “Twit” by HwaSa

Summary: You’re facing some conflicting feelings about your boyfriend Kirishima, and you’re guilty about them.

Word count: 1,950

Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog​  

a/n: First official Kiri post!  And it’s really depressing. And kinda messy.

Ok this was difficult to write. It hurted. Kind of a lot.

I had a block writing this because I was probably trying to reject all this hurt that I’m trying to inflict on this beautiful boy. He doesn’t deserve any of this, I’m sorry sharkbaby :(  So apologies if it’s not up to the same standard as everything else I write, something in me was just rejecting any angst towards Kiri and it threw me off my game.

Even with my large headphones on, I can feel his loving gaze on the back of my head as he lays on my bed, a love-struck grin on his face.

It's annoying.  Doesn't he have something better to do than watch me?

Kirishima gets up and stands behind me, sliding my headphones off and placing them on the desk before wrapping his arms around me.  "Babe, when are you gonna finish?  I wanna watch a movie with you."

The musky scent that used to weaken me tickles my nose.  "Kiri, didn't Mina ask you to go out with them tonight?" I ask lazily, trying to hide my strained irritation.

"She did, but I'd rather be with you, babe."  His arms wrap tighter around my shoulders.  "I'd miss my beautiful angel."

I grimace to myself.  "But don't you want to have some time away from me?  We see each other almost all the time, you deserve to be with your friends for once.  They probably want to see you."

"It wouldn't be manly of me to leave you by yourself on a Friday night.  I can be with them another time," he places a kiss on the side of my head.

That's not true.  Kirishima's been blowing off his friends for the past month.  It's great that he wants to give me all his attention, but it's gotten worse.  My hand clenches around the my pen unconsciously.

"I even brought big bag of chips for us to share!"  He walks over to my bed and I hear the crinkling plastic.  "I've been waiting all week for us to chill together!  Especially after all the training Aizawa put us through."

Oh, Kiri.  I can't knock him for being incredibly sweet.  He's certainly putting his entire heart into the relationship.  I turn my music off and put my books away.  "Alright, I'm finished."  Slowly walking towards the bed, he opens my laptop excitedly.  I lift the covers to slip in next to him.

He's scrolling through the options.  "Hmm, I'm down for anything, but what do you wanna watch?"

"Just put anything on."  I try to sound more enthusiastic to hiding the lifeless tone of my voice.

After a bit of back and forth, he finally puts on an action movie for us to watch.  Though I'd suggested it for us to watch since I know it's Kirishima's favorite, I wasn't too interested in it.  Although, watching the male protagonist makes me guilty.  My boyfriend sits next to me, but I'm thinking about being dominated by a stronger man.

I think Mina secretly hates me.  She's become less energetic whenever I talk to our group of friends.  At lunch, she glares daggers as Kirishima digs himself into me, flickering back and forth between the two of us.  I choose to focus on my phone while my boyfriend talks to Bakugou, his hand permanently circled around my waist like I'm a precious suitcase.  Sometimes, he'll rest his head on my shoulder, not tearing his eyes away from the conversation, telling me he's still thinking of me even when he's not looking right at me.

It's suffocating.

Between Mina's watchful eyes and Kirishima's grip on me, I never realized how much I want to disappear.  I want to tell her it's not my fault her best friend wants to spend every waking moment with me.  I'd love for her to take him off my hands for a day.

My only solace is Bakugou.  Funnily enough, I love how he's not giving me the time of day.  Not in a mean way, he just doesn't talk to me much since he's Kirishima's best friend.  But it feels like that's exactly what I desire, someone who purposely ignores me sometimes, someone who give me space to breathe, someone who can function properly without me.  He's a man who's a pillar of independence and power, someone who can take charge.  Someone who I'd love to take charge of me for once.

But as much as I could pine for Bakugou, he's not for me either.  There's no substance, no feeling there.  Us being together would be like an arranged marriage.  In theory, our personalities and desires are compatible, but the absence of any chemistry between us would make our relationship hollow.  Besides, Bakugou wouldn't betray his best friend like that, he has morals even if he doesn't have a quiet setting.

"I'm sure we'll do fine on the midterms," Kirishima squeezes his arm around me.  "Sharkbabe can review with me.  I'll need the smartest person to help since I'm not the best at studying."

His compliments used to fill me with warmth, building my confidence with his praises.  Now it feels like he's an overbearing parent trying to brag about their just-average child to their friends.  "Maybe we can all study together.  The more the merrier, right?"

"You always have great ideas, babe."  When Kirishima nuzzles his head further into my neck and I try not to stiffen visibly, the smug look on Bakugou's face tells me he noticed it.  I playfully glare at him and he relaxes into a half-smile, a sign that he understands what I feel.

As Kirishima kisses my cheek and goes on about how great I am, there's a cold sinking sensation in my chest.  How can I be so great when I'm the one making you seem so lonely?

After class, I sit in the classroom, just wanting to be alone with my thoughts.  My low energy doesn't put me in the mood to train or even walk to the dorms.  Kirishima had surprised me with a cute box of chocolate for our 100 day anniversary that I'd forgotten about.  Actually, it's more like I never cared enough to count how many days we've been a couple.

The box stares back at me, a reminder of how much better and more my boyfriend care than I do.  How much more he loves me than I love him.  It seems more and more apparent that he's the sole person in this relationship.  My hand curls around my red shame.  Why does he have no problem showering me in affection when it's so obvious that I don't reciprocate it back?

Am I flawed?  Why can't I appreciate being spoiled by such an amazing guy?  Doesn't everyone want to feel loved like this?

Did I...make him like this?

He's been so attentive, paying attention to everything I do and adjusting my day around it.  He always places my favorite drink on my desk before class every morning, he sometimes get lunch for me because he knows my favorite foods, he brings my favorite flavor of ice cream to eat on our breaks together.  But I don't know anything about him, I never did anything like that to him.  And whenever I tell him to stop out of guilt, he smiles and says, "It's manly to take care of the people you love."

I groan out to myself.  I want to love him, but all his affection is smothering.  And that's the fault in me.  I'd hate for him to be trying so hard just so I can give some of it back to him.  I just wish he would stopping trying and get angry for once.

"Kiri, I want to be left alone.  Please."  I face away from him, laying on my side so I can't see him.

"Babe, you've been distant for a few days."  The worry lacing his words nauseates me.  "Talk to me, I want you to feel better."

"Talking about it won't help, I just don't want to be around anyone," I try to persuade him to leave.  "Please go."

His silence almost fools me into think he's listened to me, but I feel the bed sink behind me.  "I see you're going through something," his soft tone resounds close to me.  "I just want you to know that I'm here for you, I'll do anything to help."

And that's when I know I can't take it anymore.

I sit up and throw the blanket off of me.  "You'll do anything, but you won't shut up and leave when I ask," I snap, getting up and walking to the other side of the room.  I refuse to look at him and his stupid, caring face.

"Sometimes, all you need is some company, I wouldn't want to be alone suffering."  He's confused, but still kind.  He still doesn't get it.

I whip around to face him.  "Funny, because from where I stand, you're pretty lonely, you just don't realize it or you're just fooling yourself."

Pure shock paints his features at my sudden outburst.  "Wha-"

"Do you really not see the problem between us?" I laugh bitterly, heat rising inside me.  "You're the only person who's actually putting effort into this relationship.  Actually, you might even be putting too much!"  When he still stares blankly at me, I continue, "I know you've realized that I don't pay you any attention, I don't do anything for you.  But you're not bothered by it, you don't even get mad about it!"

Kirishima rubs the back of his scarlet hair.  "I figured you're just the type who can't express your affections well.  I'm totally fine with just giving you everything because that's the kind of guy I am."

I bite my lip, about to burst.  "Wow.  You must be an idiot."

His jaw flies open, hurt mixed in his eyes, but I can't stop now.

"You're okay with being treated like trash when you could have anyone else.  You're such a masochist for letting someone mistreat you when there are so many other people who are so much better for you and will love you back, but you want the one person who doesn't care.  Or maybe you're some stupid, ignorant idiot who never even saw it in the first place because you're love-blind."

Though there's a weight lifted off my chest, I feel hollow.  I've ripped an extremely stubborn band-aid off and the sting still remains.  He doesn't even know how to look at me, but I can see the cogs turning in his mind as he processes my words.  My heart beats as I wait for some sort of reaction, the aftermath of my confession high climbing down now.

I watch as the initial shock and hurt slowly morphs into anger as his fists clench and slightly harden with his quirk.  "Maybe you're right," he nods, a new resolve present.  "I do deserve someone better.  And when I find them, I won't misread them like I did to you.  I'll remember this."  And he turns around and leaves quietly, not even slamming the door behind him.

The silence makes my ears buzz low, my body starting to shake slightly.  I don't know what I was expecting, maybe more screaming?  A bigger fight?  One of us to end up crying?  It felt easy somehow.  The exchange didn't last 2 minutes and it was already over.

I want to say that I regret lashing out like that.  More astonishing to me is that I don't.  I just broke up with someone, I should feel some degree of pain or sadness.  Sure, it's bittersweet: somewhere deep down, I'm sure I'll miss some of his doting and his kind gestures, but I'm more relieved that he'll find someone better instead of being tied down by someone like me who won't - or can't - do anything for him.

The anger and confusion that rage within me isn't towards losing a relationship.   I reach a sobering conclusion: A bird does not make a barren tree any less barren; once it flies away it's back to being a lonely, barren tree.

[booksonablog]

A Fresh Start: Harry Styles Imagine Part 3

You woke up to the alarming sound of your ringtone. You jumped, your arm quickly grabbing the phone to see who decided to disturb your peace. Oh. You blinked. It's the only man you'd probably ever let disturb your slumber.

You cleared your throat before attempting to sound like a Disney princess, "Hello?" You answered.

"Did I wake you?" You could almost hear the cheeky grin on the other line.

"No...I always wake up at-" you peered over to check the time, "9:15am" you breathed, shocked by the digits shown on the hotel alarm.

You could hear Harry's laugh through the phone. "Right, well I was calling to invite you to breakfast. They have an exquisite breakfast menu where I'm staying and the view is just as spectacular, if you'd like to join?"

You were still wrapped up in his voice, the way it sounded a bit raspy in the morning and the way the words tumbled out of his mouth, drenched in his accent. You cleared your throat, his words now forming sentences in your brain, "Yeah, I'd love to." You grinned.

"I'm on my way." He replied, his smile forming in your imagination.

***

After getting dolled up and putting on your best breakfast outfit, Harry had picked you up and took you to where he was staying, which of course, was beautiful. The room was all white and very elegantly cozy.

"This is beautiful." You spoke softly as you walked around in admiration.

"Even better-" Harry began, making his way to the back wall of the room where he opened two tall French doors that lead to a balcony accompanied by breakfast and a gorgeous view of the Eiffel Tower.

"Oh my gosh - Harry - this is - beautiful." Your eyes sparkled at the sight before you, making Harry beam.

"It's really quite a sight." He smiles at you before pulling out a chair in the balcony, gesturing for you to join him, to which you smiled.

"The food here is very tasty, but based off your previous menus, I ordered a couple things I thought you might like." You smiled at this unimaginable gesture. It made you pause for a moment and wonder what exactly was happening. Before you could further question your present, Harry unveiled different food items he had ordered. Crepes alongside whipped cream, fruit, and nutella, fresh veggie omelets with thick freshly baked bread smothered in butter and crispy bacon with two pitchers of water and orange juice to pair with your delicious feast.

"And of course," he unveiled another silver cap that held 12 different flavored macaroons. "Our favorite." He winked, making you blush. You were truly in awe by the sight, your tummy could not have been more blessed.

"Thank you, this is - I have no words." You chuckled.

"No problem, enjoy." He smiled, making himself a plate.

***

Breakfast was another fairytale to add to your fairytale. The food was delicious, the view was absolutely gorgeous and again, Harry was a great conversationalist. The conversation was light at first, he made jokes, and you soon started talking about travelling and his tour life as well as your life back home as far as family and work. He was very interested in you and while you enjoyed that he wasn't narcissistic, you found yourself holding back and steering the conversation back to him.

After talking about family and what brought him to Paris, the two of you laid on his bed, as if taking a break from Thanksgiving dinner.

"So, a fresh start." He spoke, turning his head towards you.

You turned your head to face him with a confused look.

"What are you starting fresh from?" He asked gently. His voice was so soft, like he was luring you with caution.

"I-" you trailed off. You started to ask yourself if it was a good idea to share the truth, and if it was, how much of it should be told?

"Toxicity." You answered. He kept quiet, signaling for you to continue. "I found myself in a toxic environment-" you looked down to find your fingers fidgeting with eachother. "Well, not so much environment, more so, relationship." There was a quick patch of silence between the two which started to increase your anxiousness.

"Have you ever been in love Harry?" It almost seemed like an ignorant question to ask an artist who's written love songs himself, but the two of you knew what you were really asking - have you ever been heartbroken?

Harry looked up and took a deep breath himself. "Yes. I dated a girl named Julianne between the ending of One Direction and my first album." He stared at the ceiling while he spoke. You were surprised at his openness, sensing he would unravel his history. "It was the type of love that the ending seemed like an utter shock - a wound that just kept growing as you sat there in disbelief." You couldn't have described it better yourself. Harry turned to you and for a moment it was pure eye contact and soul searching.

You wondered if he would tell you more, and if you would tell him more, but you had decided way before any of this that you wouldn't share the mistakes of an ex with a possible newcomer as you found that they would have a perfect guideline on how to take advantage, please and hurt you. For a second, you questioned how Harry fit into all this, did you really see Harry as a potential…"newcomer?"

"You loved him?" He asked rhetorically. You nodded.

"With all my heart." You said, feeling your chest tighten.

He watched your reaction, observing the pain in your face with sympathy.

"I think the worst kind of heartbreak is when someone you love is the one causing the pain," he spoke quietly, "I was once told not to let the love I have for someone blind me from the toxic truth about them. It's one of the most difficult things to practice but I'd rather be healthy and peacefully in love rather than madly, ignorantly in love."

It was your turn to view his expression, which was that of a distant pain, something he moved on from but could never forget, like a photograph.

The rest of the time you two spoke of love, you kept mindful of what you shared but absorbed his words of wisdom and experience. It was calm, comfortable and soothing.

***

You coughed, jolting yourself awake. You looked to your left to see Harry rubbing his eyes and smiling at you, a small chuckle escaping his lips. You blushed and giggled at how you two fallen asleep beside eachother during conversation. It was cute, you thought to yourself.

You sat up and looked off to the balcony, the sky started to darken, pink clouds surrounded the sky. It was a beautiful view you'd never forget.

Harry checked his watch, "C'mon, I wanna take you for a walk somewhere special." You whipped your head towards him and laughed which sounded very much like a scoff, you were just surprised and a bit confused. He sat up and slid his jacket on before glancing at you, making you blush. Adorable, he thought. "C'mon," he smiled, holding his hand out for you to take, "Paris is waiting." He grinned at his smoothness. You smiled back, accepting his hand.

***

The two of you walked beside eachother, hands in your pockets walking down a street. You looked up to see the Eiffel Tower peeking out behind a strip of buildings.

"Look how close the Eiffel Tower is!" You pointed like an excited child.

He smiled at your cheeriness, "It's about to get a lot closer." He hinted with a cheeky smile. You looked at him with excited anticipation, following his lead with a grin plastered on your face.

***

You learn something new everyday, you thought as you and Harry waited for the elevator doors in the Eiffel Tower to close. You knew people had access to the top of the Tower and that there was actually a restaurant inside as well, but it never occurred to you that there was an elevator inside, silly to not have thought about it, but interesting. All walls of the elevator were made of thick glass, kinda like the ones at the zoo back home. But rather than seeing animals on the otherside, your view of the city was progressively getting wider and it was absolutely exquisite. Your eyes were glued to the scenery till you arrived at the top. The top was roomier than you thought but fairly packed with tourists. Harry carefully lead the way to the edge of the Tower where it showed a fenced view of the city below. He tilted his head down a bit and that's when reality bopped you on your little head. You had briefly forgotten his popularity and the likely possibility of fans wanting to take pictures with him, especially in such a popular area. Fortunately, everyone's focus was on the city. You sympathized him, as wonderful as the lifestyle seemed, you recognized the inconvenience it came with.

After weaving through the crowd, the two of you finally made your way to the edge where the wind blew the fresh air of the city through your hair. It was was a stunning view, but more so than anything, you never felt calmer. The noise surrounding you tuned out as you watched the busy streets below. You were at peace.

***

You giggled behind Harry as he ran down the field across the Tower, your hand in his. This is the first time he held your hand, but you were too giggly to fangirl. He eventually stopped at a more secluded spot. He turned to face you, catching his breath and lessening his laughter.

"What are we doing?" You asked, still laughing.

He gestured at the Eiffel Tower in the background, "What do you mean? This is the perfect touristy picture spot!" He joked, whipping out his phone.

You smiled at his wit and secretly also at the fact that he was gonna take the picture on his phone.

He gestured for you to scoot to your right and hold your hand up. "Pretend you're holding it," you laughed and held your hands up so the Tower appeared to be in your hands, "That's it, right there, perrrrfect darlin'." He said in his best french photographer voice. You stuck your tongue out for another picture where you pretended the Tower was an ice cream cone, to which he laughed before snapping the photo. You laughed back before making your way over to him to see the photos. His cologne wafted over your way, he smelled like one of the high end stores you passed by during your stay, it was yummy and made your heart beat faster. The photos were cute and well taken, you smiled at the cute pics and looked up at him who was smiling at his phone screen. He tucked his phone in his pocket, looking up at you, dimples returning on his face.

"I'm starved, you wanna get a bite to eat?"

***

"You're really in the mood for walking today, huh." You joked.

Harry smirked at you. "Getting tired already?"

"Lil bit, lil bit." You teased.

Harry had taken you to a nearby restaurant that had a perfect view of the Tower. You snapped a few pictures of the view after saving the photos from earlier that he had sent you. The menu was fairly fancy, you gathered it was because of the view, but of course, it was quite tasty. The two of you made room for dessert, which was this chocolate mousse cake that you had to resist from licking the plate clean.

Now, the sky had fully dimmed and the two of you were walking past a bridge towards the Eiffel Tower so you can see the lights that decorated it at night.

The two of you had joked and goofed off all the way to the Tower.

"Y/N?" He asked.

"Yes?" You smiled, butterflies making an appearance in your tummy when he said your name.

"I hope you don't mind me asking, but since it was brought up earlier, I was curious about your love story."

Your smile faded, and the butterflies turned into anxious moths searching for the light.

"Um," you pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, he noticed, and just before he could apologize and reassure you that you didn't have to discuss it, you decided to tell him your story in so many words. "We hadn't even been together for a year yet... but I thought we would be," he looked at you with full focus as you continued, "I had came out of a really - emotionally abusive relationship before I met him, so I was cautious, we went out for awhile before making it official, that's what I wanted. We turned out to develop a first level friendship and it was - perfect - or close to it. He did a lot of wonderful things and we shared so many fun experiences together, and I was there for him through tough times, but overall, we were a really great couple. My family liked him a whole lot, as did my friends, they were all rooting for him, some even envious. I was happy, and he was too. I loved him so much, truly, deeply." You took a deep breath before continuing. Your pain was now visible and Harry wanted to hold your hand for comfort, but he dismissed it as inappropriate and continued to listen. "During our time, I noticed a few red flags, and at first I was in denial, but eventually I acknowledged them and I would speak up about most of them, but the unchangeable I just kept in the back of my head to deal with for the future. Eventually, our relationship started to deplete as his true colors started to show, arguments started to ensue and - in short, it was just really bad. And once we did break up, I found out within the week of our breakup, he was already on dating apps and seeing some girl." You swallowed and shook your head, ridding yourself of the past. "I thought of him as someone who would never ever hurt me… I was naive."

Harry's heart ached for you, thinking to himself how there are few things more heartbreaking than a woman questioning her self worth after being treated badly by a significant other.

"I'm sorry." Harry finally spoke, partially feeling guilty for bringing lingering feelings up. He can relate to severe heartbreak, and you knew that since this morning.

You laughed and shrugged your shoulders, "It hurts, and it sucks," you swallowed hard, trying not to cry. "But I'm in Paris - with Harry Styles," you smiled back at him, he returned the smile. "And I'm remembering what it's like to be happy."

***

A/N: Julianne is a made up character - just an fyi, not a real lover of his (that I know of.) Also, I'm overwhelmed, in a wonderful way, with how much you guys are enjoying what has turned out to be a series ♡ If you'd like to be added to the Tag List, please lmk, thank you! ♡

Tag List:

@crowdedimagines @itsilvermorny @cali--luxury