#this is a secret but sometimes while waiting for it to boil if he’s leaning against the counter and no one else is up

[shewhoeatssand]

they are similar

[pedge-stuff]

thermos (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked.” drop a line if you have a sug. (:

summary: sometimes, love boils on the stove. (set 2021.)

————————————————————————

It had been a long fucking day.  Delayed table read, late picks, emergency rewrites—  the perfect storm at SNL.  

The steady pressure in your temples had gradually increased throughout the day, despite the Excedrine you'd taken early on. This had morphed into an ache at the back of your throat, because of course it had— bad things always came in waves. 

Halfway through the last-minute pitch meeting post-rehearsal, you'd missed a call from Pedro. The same time he called every day,  usually timed well with your walk home from midtown. Sending him to voicemail was out of character. 

Sorry, you'd texted. Rehearsal tonight. Lightly sautéed, gonna crash after work, talk tomorrow? Love  you very much x 

He'd shot back a " :( " and then had been typing for several minutes, the little bubbles appearing over and over. OK, he finally said. Love you too. 

It tweaked your heart, a bit. The two thousand miles between your phones was hard to stomach, sometimes. Alberta felt, for reasons unknown, so infinitely farther than LA, though the mileage was comparable. You picture him, alone in his trailer, reading glasses perched on his nose as he scrolls his phone, waiting for wrap to leave and tuck his old bones into bed.

Ultimately, you are a little too tired, and achy, and frustrated with work, and maybe a little cranky, to dwell on the finality of his "OK."  There's nothing he can do for you, from Alberta; it's not worth worrying him. 

You drag yourself home, resigned to making a weak cup of tea and curling up with the dogs. (Home is your studio apartment, while he's gone, though he maintains a steady campaign for you to just move into his. You haven't yet been able to articulate how fucking lonely his Brooklyn townhouse is without him.) Politely squeeze past the elderly couple who have pushed their sidewalk table all the way in front of the door to your building. Check the mail, of which there is none. Climb the stairs, a slow shuffle, fumbling with your stupid keys, music still playing at street volume in your headphones, eyes burning, lock turning— 

Fuck, fuck. 

Pedro turns the stove off, offers you a shy smile. Your bag drops to the floor. Something inside you snaps, pulls loose. You burst into tears. 

"Oh," he says, and you forcefully close the distance, wrapping your arms around him as you try and stifle quiet sobs. Wonder, for a moment, what the fuck is happening. "Surprise?" 

You laugh, weakly. Run a hand down your face. "Sorry, sorry." 

He pushes you back, apprising you with a gentle and skeptical look. Holds your face in his hands and thumbs away the fresh tears. Frowns. Presses his palm to your forehead. "You didn't tell me you were sick."

Leaning into his hand, you shake your head. "Not sick. Just tired." You pull back. "I can't believe you're here. Jesus. How long are you here for?" 

His attention is drawn back to the stove, beside which he has set your green travel mug. He smiles sheepishly. "Was trackin' ya on Find My." The kettle spits a small whistle as he pours the water. Your heart clenches; this stupidly thoughtful man. 

"I can rally," you offer, even as he ushers you into the bedroom. There is a suddenly conspicuous absence of dogs. 

"They're in Brooklyn. Figured you'd wanna get some shit here, and then we Uber that way?"

"You really thought this through, huh?" There are clothes and toiletries at his place ("our place," he calls it, though the studio is decidedly "your place."), but you pack a few things, just in case. 

It's not a secret that he doesn't love your apartment— it's a little cramped, for two men and two dogs. Plus, his apartment is more of a full condo. And the bathroom's nicer.

He watches you pack, perched on the edge of the bed. It's hard to focus on anything other than studying the soft lines of his travel-weary face. The rise and fall of his chest. Bits and pieces of him that the front-facing iPhone camera cannot pick up over FaceTime. 

— 

In the back of the Uber, mindful of the rearview mirror, you have his left hand trapped between both of yours. The skin of his palm has toughened, calloused slightly from whatever they have him doing in the woods of Canada. It still feels the same as you press your lips to the center. 

"I'm still a little confused," you whisper, "but I'm so happy you're here." 

His steals his hand back, to card it through your hair. "Me too. Was going crazy, trying to keep it a secret. We've got the long weekend off for Veteran's day, so I thought..." 

"Mm. Do you have an agenda this weekend?" 

The Uber makes its final turn. "Yeah. I would like to sleep for one million years, in a bed, with you. And probably see Oscar and Elvira, at some point. Also maybe order Empanada Mama. I ate a Canadian empanada last week that legitimately made me sad." 

You hold onto his hand as you exit the car, cross the street, key in. The tea put you at ease, but with the shock of the surprise wearing off, the weight of the day resettles as an ache across your shoulders. 

The dogs bound down the hallway as you key in. Pedro's suitcase has not made it much farther than the front door, though it has been cracked open and partially rummaged. "I was in a rush," he said sheepishly.

"Mm. You showerin’?” 

“Probably should. We heading up?” 

You nod, kneeling to re-zip his bag; the duties of young knees. (The age gap is disregarded, unless he plays the old card to his advantage.) Edgar pounces on you while you’re accessibly low. Ten different questions die in the back of your throat. Every step between you and the king sized bed on the third floor feels impossible. 

— 

He smells clean, as he wraps his arms around you, skin still damp and warm from the obscenely hot showers he prefers. You have a long day of rehearsal ahead of you tomorrow, then an even longer show day— but none of that matters now.

"Thank you for coming." You mumble, sleepily, into the worn fabric on his shoulder. Fingers card through your hair, brush gently over your temple. You've got a hand beneath his t-shirt, splayed across the base of his ribs.

Pedro makes an indignant noise, low, from his chest. "Not a place on Earth I'd rather be."

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Prompt 23 with JJ?? where JJ and Reader get into a fight and it kinda starts with angst (the prompt) but ends with fluff and just JJ feeling horrible after everything that happened? It’s okay if not!

I love this, this is a perfect storm of angst and healing!

"Hey, what happened?" I catch JJ's wrist before he can walk past me and into the Twinkie, John B's incessant eyes stalking JJ as he stops, interrupting their journey into town. Of course, right when I get here they're going off on some secret mission.

"Don't wanna talk about it." He mutter, turning his chin so I can't completely see the bruises littering his cheeks but I can see enough, enough to make my blood boil with anger.

"JJ, you're face is smashed in, I think you need to talk about something." I scoff, looking past him and at our friends who sit in the old, beat up van, their eyes going from a look of impatience to a look of concern and sadness.

"Fine, I don't want to talk about it." He turns to me with stern eyes, asking me quietly to drop it and I gulp, looking up at him through my lashes with a drooped frown.

"Okay, I'm just saying if you did want to talk about-"

"For gods sake please just drop it and stop fucking nagging me, alright?" He asks in a loud tone, taking me completely off guard as my jaw drops and eyes widen but not in a look of fear, instead a look of utter and complete disappointment. The JJ I love would never talk to me like that. "Wait, Y/n I'm sorry-" I spin around on my heel, making my way towards the Chateau to wait for them, deciding to be done with this conversation before it gets any worse.

"No, I'm going. You made it clear that you don't want my help, you don't want to talk." I hear John B call out JJ's name and the blonde shoves a finger into the air as his desperate eyes flicker back and forth between mine. "You don't have to worry about answering to me anymore, I'm done." I sit down onto the steps with a sigh, looking up at him with teary eyes.

"You're dumping me?" He asks with a cracked voice, blue eyes suddenly red and not from the weed he abuses his body with.

"You want space, you've got it."

"Stop, wait-" He holds his hands up, quickly rushing down to sit beside me and I glare at him, waiting for him to apologize like I know he will. "Stop, I'm sorry." He whispers, turning to me completely, ignoring the way the Twinkie drives off without him. "Fuck I'm sorry." He reaches out to me, taking me in his arms and I let him, just because I know him and I know his anger, I know he reacts poorly so sometimes he just needs the push.

"You’ve always pushed people away, JJ. I just never thought you’d do it to me." I whisper, cradling the back of his head as he shakes his head.

"I'm not trying to. I know you want me to talk about my dad, I can't right now, okay? I'm okay, I'll be okay." He leans back, cupping my cheeks in his strong hands, sincere eyes flickering back and forth between mine. "I'm sorry, please don't leave me."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to push." I shake my head with a sad smile, knowing that I crossed the line but only out of love for him, wanting and needing to get into his head to know what he's going through. He can't just keep it bottled up forever.

"You didn't, you're my girl, I should just talk to you." I smile, placing a hand on his cheek as I lean towards him to give his lips a small peck while whispering.

"Your girl."

[guttedwhxre]

Hello! I saw you took requests and wrote for Jesse! Could you maybe write where the and reader are together but Spann is a bit friendly with Jesse (because let's face it, we saw how she was in the movie, she definitely did things with Jesse like an assistant with benefits), and reader is trying to keep their cool while showing Spann that their not going anywhere and is in it for the long run?

Sorry if I didn't explain too well, but thank you for writing and take your time I know you must be busy I get sometimes it takes a bit so really no rush!

Thank you 🤗

thank you soo much for the request love, sorry for the wait <3

tw: none!

INCONVENIENCE - JESSE CROMEANS X READER

he knew you were in it for the long-run. of course you were, you’d learned every single one of jesse’s flaws and secrets, as he learned yours in turn. you were his rock, and he was your light. together you made a lovely couple, as shown by the heavy ring on your finger. you knew that your lover was desirable, he is a man of great power after all - it’s just a pain in your ass when the help tries to have their way with him. preston was dead for a reason, and you just wished he’d wise up and do the same thing to spann. 

the lingering looks and barely concealed touches were grating in your nerves. if you were a worse person you’d take one of jesse’s shiny knives, kill her, record it and show it to him as an early birthday gift but you know it’d only serve to piss him off - and yeah maybe you didn’t have the prowess to take spann on. but it still made your blood boil when she dares to try and subtly flirt. 

you were in his office, sitting on his desk as he sat in his office chair. his hand began to creep up your thigh and you smiled, fully ready to give him exactly what he wanted. then someone knocks at the door. 

“come in,” bleats jesse’s robotic voice, and in strides spann; seemingly a little startled at your presence. 

“mx. cromeans,” she says, smile with a little too much teeth. “i didn’t expect you to be in today,” you do your best to bite back a scowl. spann seems to quickly recover, icy eyes meeting yours. 

“i thought i’d surprise jesse,” you say, smiling at your spouse. “he’s never one to complain,” at this you feel your man scoot closer to you, hand wrapping around your waist. you smile wider, but spann is unphased. 

“right. well, i was wondering if mr. cromeans would like to join me for lunch,” she pauses, as you repress the urge to clench your fist. she smirks slightly, eyes falling on jesse. “there’s some things i’d like to discuss. about the company, of course,” smug bitch. you’re about to open your mouth to respond when jesse’s monotonous tenor interrupts you. 

“no. don’t ask again when i’m with my spouse,” it’s final. spann, ever the collected one, purses her lips and nods. 

“i’m sorry mr. cromeans-“ she begins to say, but jesse holds a hand up, typing something quickly out on the keypad he holds in your lap. looking down at it, you bite back a smile as he presses the ‘send’ key. 

“matter of fact, don’t ask again. if i ever need to speak with you about something, i will come to you. is that clear?” you’re trying to suppress your giggles but this is just too good. you hold a hand to your mouth and laugh quietly, squeaking when jesse pinches your side. you look down at him but his mask is still turned towards spann. the woman is looking down at the ground, suddenly meek. 

“yes sir. i apologize,” she quickly turns out of his office, tail tucked between her legs. you smile freely now, kissing all over jesse’s mask. 

“you told her, huh?” you coo, leaning forward to wrap your arms around his neck. his broad shoulders shake with silent laughter, you feel the rumble in his chest when he presses closer to you. 

“of course,” his machine says, his fingers tapping quickly against the keyboard. “i won’t tolerate any inconveniences when i’m with my love,” you feel his gaze from behind his gleaming mask and any fear you may have felt melts away. it’s you and him forever, despite what spann may think. 

“seriously though, i think i want her dead.” you murmur, and jesse throws his head back with rumbling laughter, squeezing you close to his side.

xoxo, babe 💋

[kittyofalltrades]

hi bby so i’m wondering if you have any headcanons for how marc shows / expresses love?? 😘💖

Marc Expressing Love Headcanons!!!!!!!!!!!

Marc is a tough cookie. We know this, we love this, but he shows his affection in some fun ways

Marc's favorite flowers are sunflowers, and when he is sad he brightens your day by bringing you some. He only brings you sunflowers if he is sad, otherwise your favorite flower is given. It's weird he knows, but seeing you coo over his favorite flower makes him happy.

Marc can't cook for shit. That's Steven and Jake that can. But he spends weeks in secret leaning to make your favorite comfort dish and after a bad day he surprises you with it. The smile of happiness you give him makes him happy he learned.

You're as stubborn as he is sometimes, and it comes to a boil when you refuse to take a coat to work with you. Marc is fine with at first when you assure him that a little cold won't hurt. Until it starts to snow. Then he snatches up your winter gear and drops them off at your office. You know he's been there, but he never mentions it.

Marc is willing to try all of your food concoctions even the ones he suspects are bad, because he knows you worked hard on them. He'd let Jake front to help you fix them before returning to try the much improved dish.

Marc knows he is attractive and he knows you are beautiful. But he doesn't understand how you can spend days telling him how pretty he is (why pretty? he didn't know.), but you'd argue against every compliment he gave you. On the days he caught you frowning in the mirror he'd spend all day reminding you how beautiful, smart, and sweet you are while you'd laugh and argue. It wasn't the ideal solution but it worked to stop you frowning in the mirror.

Because of how his mother treated him, he isn't really into the grand gestures. The small things that he does are good enough for him. For him because he knows they matter to you.

You know Marc is going to be more open with his gestures of love the more secure he feels with you, and you are willing to wait for that. You don't ever vocalise anything because he is loving you the way he knows best and you love him for it.

MARC NEEDS A FUCKING HUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

[teratalia]

me, struggling to write a smut,

😭😭 I’m determined to do it tho. in the meantime, have a snippet of part two of this Funouhan Usobuki x reader fic, starring our fav hero of justice, Detective Tada! look at him, look at my boy

You and Detective Tada have been in contact for a while now. Mostly you just text him to let him know you’re still alive, and occasionally you meet for a face-to-face chat over coffee. Unfortunately Tadashi keeps you out of the loop when it comes to his work, so you can’t share any secrets or tips about where he’ll pop up next. Sometimes you think Tada is just relieved to have a normal person to talk to, not one who’s a killer or chasing killers. 

This day feels different. Tada is full of nervous energy, tapping his coffee cup, the table, eyes darting back and forth. Then he says something that stuns you. 

“How would you like to escape from Usobuki?” He blurts out unprompted. You freeze, hands squeezing your coffee mug. “I’d like to help you get out. I can set up a police guard to make sure he doesn’t get to you ever again.”

Speechless, it takes a while before you find your voice again. “If the guard falls prey to hypnotism, then it won’t work,” you point out. 

Tada shakes his head. “I’m prepared to be your personal bodyguard. Look…” He leans in closely, putting one hand over yours. “You shouldn’t have to be with him if you don’t want to.”

You look down, not pulling away yet. As tempting as it sounds, you hesitate to give an actual answer. 

When you open your mouth, it’s to yell, “Watch out!”

The server came by to refill your coffees, but nearly poured the boiling hot coffee right on Tada instead. You manage to pull him away enough that only a splash lands on his pants. 

Tada lets out an undignified yelp and grabs handfuls of napkins as the server apologizes profusely. 

“I’m so sorry sir, I completely spaced out! I thought I was refilling your cup, I’m terribly sorry. Tell you what, can I offer you a free dessert to make up for this?”

Tada shrugs, still dabbing at his pants. “I won’t say no to free dessert. Thanks.”

They nod and scurry away towards the kitchen. As you watch them go, you spot a flash of red peeking out of the shadows. 

“Hey, Tada? Don’t eat that dessert.”

He looks confused, but you get up without an explanation. 

“Wait—” 

“I really have to go now. I’ll see you later.”

Once home, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

A week later, you get a text from Tada: Had the free cupcake tested. Spiked with rat poison. Thanks for the warning. 

You can feel Tadashi’s eyes on you, and when you meet his gaze, you’re unsettled by those swirling red depths.

[mugunghwc]

@badheart said: Jiro leaned against her, while Rei tried to cook, waiting for her to just give in. "I want you," he mumbled and hugged her rather lightly.

he had showed up earlier—a pleasant surprise, but that meant that the dinner wasn't ready yet. rei was currently behind the kitchen counter, making the finishing touches to a particular meal before boiling the ingredients. she still wore her apron, which was clean for the most part, but that still was reason for worry when he held her so close. at least, by this point, jiro had already taken off his jacket & rolled up his sleeves, giving her the opportunity to admire the tattoos on his skin. a sight that incited something within her that she could not explain. a mixture of danger & intimacy. something only she could see, aside from those he considered as his family. without realising, her moments had halted & her stare had drifted down to his forearms. the closeness made her feel warm on the inside.

"aren't you hungry, though?" her words were soft, only heard by him due to his hold. her head felt light, as if she could no longer concentrate on what she was doing, when she heard him speak. it felt as if all the air was being knocked out of her & she breathed in cold. her knife was carefully placed down, & left on the cutting board, as her other hand was placed on his wrist. "you sure know what to say." with how vocal he was of his desire for her, rei felt weak to his words. like a warm hug, reassuring all those worries that hung over her head & that she wasn't even aware of, until he dispelled them away. sometimes, it felt surreal to come to this—to be able to call him hers & be it a mutual thing. no more just a dirty secret.

fingers curled around his wrist, giving it a squeeze before she managed to turn around. her hands held up, trying not to touch on his shirt. she didn't want to get it dirty. "i suppose i can wash up before leaving it to cook... want to help me with that?"

[cower-before-power]

Piety

Summary: Gojo has sinned, and he will repent at the altar of his beloved

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

TW: swearing, implied sexual content, idolatry

Link to A03 here

A/N: First time writing for everyone’s favourite sensei, hope I did him justice. This man can step on me. Enjoy, sweet potatoes!

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

“You’re late.”

He laughs softly from the doorway. “I told you I would be.”

“I know,” you say, your eyes focused on the rising moon out the window. “But you’ve always said I was the exception.”

“You are,” you can hear walk over to the closet; next, the rustling of clothes as he sheds his uniform. “But Yuuji-kun is doing so well I got overexcited and just had to stay a bit longer. When I was finished with him, I was planning on rushing straight home to you, but then I ran into my other darling first years. They wanted me to watch them fight. Their training for the exchange is coming along nicely too.”

“Hmmmmm,” you hum, rocking on your heels, “good reasons to be late, I suppose.”

You can’t help but let a little irritation creep into your voice. You’re not angry with him, not truly, but you can’t help be a little annoyed. Your lives were so busy it was often hard to find time to actually act like a couple. The two of you had set aside tonight to finally go out together, a real date. You’d made reservations at a fancy restaurant and even got dressed up for once. Not that you didn’t love your late night routine of takeout, Netflix and sex, but it was nice every once and a while to get out.

To pretend everything was normal. To pretend you were normal.

So when he texted you that he was sorry but things came up, could you please cancel the reservation-you couldn’t help but feel....cast aside.

You loved Gojo’s dedication to his students and his passion for his cause. You were proud of his strength, his powers. But sometimes it felt like you were a planet orbiting around his brilliant sun, competing with all the others for his warmth and light. He was the best, and was always needed by someone somewhere. You knew it was what you were in for when you put your heart in his hands, but it was still sometimes a bitter pill to swallow.

“You’re upset with me,” he says, and you finally turn to face him. He’s out of his uniform and only in a pair of dark sweatpants; your favourite look. You have a strong urge to run to him and bury yourself in his chest. You stay put.

“No not at you, per say,” you run your hands through your hair, taking out the style you’d coaxed it into earlier. “Just at life, I guess. Things are always crazy around here, but they seem to be getting even wilder and it just makes it even harder for us to spend quality time together.”

“You’ve never complained before.”

You sigh, tugging at the straps of your dress. “I know, I know. I’m just in a mood today, I guess. I was really looking forward to going out, and when you texted me, I just felt, I don’t know, shuffled aside.”

He stays quiet, face unreadable. It’s unusual and quite frankly rather unsettling. You feel guilt suddenly bubble hotly in your stomach.

“I mean, it’s fine! What you were doing was very important! Yuuji needs all the training he can get, poor boy. Plus, Megumi and Nobara miss you, they’ve noticed you haven’t been around a lot and they probably just wanted to see you be proud of them, even if they’ll never admit it. I’m being silly, I mean, who cares if we missed the reservation, the students and their training is definitely more important than going out with me-“

Your words die on your lips as you find yourself suddenly pressed flush against the chest you were just admiring moments earlier. You blink and gasp-bright blue eyes are staring intently down into yours. It always stuns you momentarily to see them. They are like sapphires; not only beautiful in shine and hue, but rare and precious. They only show up when he’s feeling particularly loving and mushy, or the very limited occasions when he gets serious.

You have a feeling it’s the latter.

“What have I told you about being too kind, angel?” He scolds you, shaking his head as he cups your face in his large, warm hands. “Just come out and say I’m the asshole here.”

“But-“

“Hush now,” his voice grows stern, the tone he uses when he’s got you at his mercy. You obey on instinct, snapping your lips shut. “I shouldn’t have stayed so long at school, and I definitely shouldn’t have assumed that cancelling would be okay without asking. I’ve never, ever wanted you to feel like you’re playing second string, and I’ve gone and done just that.”

You frown. “I don’t feel like that all the time, please don’t think I-“

“Once is one time too many,” he interrupts. His fingers smooth over your skin, stroking the frown from your face. “I clearly fucked up. I let my angel, my reason to live, my sweet darling thief who stole my heart, down.”

(You feel warm. So he is feeling mushy as well as serious.)

He replaces his fingers with his lips, featherlight brushes over your skin that make your knees begin to wobble. “It’s okay,” you breathe, eyes slipping shut so he can kiss your eyelids gently. “You didn’t mean to.”

He laughs. “Sweetness, you are shit at being mad at someone. This is the part where you call me a prick and make me grovel for forgiveness.”

“You’ve never groveled in your life,” you hum. The irritation you’d been feeling earlier is melting away under his gentle ministrations. He hadn’t meant to hurt you. He sometimes forgets the two of you didn’t always operate on the same wavelength. He sometimes forgets that everyone didn’t operate on his wavelength.

“Another exception I’d make for you,” he nibbles at your bottom lip, and you can’t help but chase him, trying to catch him in a proper kiss. He just laughs and sweeps a thumb over where he’s just nipped. “I’ll even get on my knees.”

The image of the worlds most powerful shaman on his knees before you sends a shiver up your spine. And the perceptive bastard doesn’t miss it. He pulls away, peeling himself from your body with a sticky slowness that causes the air around you to heat and thicken. He sinks to his knees before you, palms upturned in perfect piety.

“Oh goddess divine, please accept my humble apologies,” the words drip from his lips like a sacred prayer. “I have displeased you, and I seek to make amends.”

“Only you could apologize and make fun of someone at the same time,” you murmer, feeling your cheeks begin to flush. “You’re an idiot.”

“An idiot who only wishes to repent for his sins,” he grins lazily up at you, and his upturned hands are suddenly on your legs, beneath your dress. His thumbs begin to rub circles on your inner thighs. Time stops; your next breath lodges in your throat.

“Tell me what I must do,” his voice is smooth like the silk of his blindfold, slipping over you. He leans in and presses a kiss just above your right knee. His mouth is hot against your skin.

“Ummmm....” you try to speak, but nothing comes out but a choked whimper.

“I’m waiting very patiently,” another kiss, this time slightly higher. Your brain begins to malfunction. You open and close your mouth, trying to get the words out, but there’s nothing. Nothing but his warm breath and deft hands. Nothing but crystalline blue darkened with hunger. Nothing but need beginning to boil in your blood.

“I’ll just have to decide the form of atonement myself,” he murmurs, skimming his nose along your inner thigh. His hands slowly slide up your legs, your dress is coming up with them....

And then you both hear it.

The loud grumbling of your very empty belly.

He pulls back and blinks up at you. You stare back, mouth open. And then you both burst into raucous laughter.

“What a mood killer,” he grins, sitting back on his heels. “I’ve never been cockblocked by your stomach before.”

“Sorry!” You rub the offending area, still giggling. “I guess in all my stewing I forgot I was hungry.”

He’s on his feet in a flash. “Well we can’t have you starve on me, can we, sweetness? I know, how about I cook for us?”

Your eyes light up. Gojo is an excellent cook, but he rarely does it due to his busy and exhausting schedule. And his bad habit of filling up on sweets. “Really?”

“Sure,” he’s already across the room, throwing on a shirt and his blindfold. “Tell you what, you go have a nice hot soak in the tub while I cook. I’ll bring you a glass of wine and something from my extra secret sweets stash to tide you over till I’m done.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Something from the secret stash? I’m honoured.”

He grins. “Another exception for my angel.” He suddenly claps his hands together. “Oh, and tomorrow we’ll play hookey! Go to Tokyo for the whole day, and I’ll spoil the absolute shit out of you. The kids can survive a day without us.”

“You already spoil me,” you laugh, shaking your head. “I’ll just be happy to spend a whole day just us.”

“No arguments!” He wags his finger. “I will drop mad cash on you and you will enjoy it.”

“Ugh you are such a dork,” you roll your eyes, but your heart fills with love for this silly man. You know he really is sorry and is trying to make it up to you. He’s an idiot on occasions, but he’s your idiot, and you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

You make to move towards the bathroom, but the lingering feel of his touch on your skin reminds you.

“Hey, what happens after the bath and food?”

Before you can blink, he’s back in front of you, gathering you against him. His smile is absolutely feral, and you can feel his smouldering gaze even through the black fabric now covering his eyes.

And his lips are descending on yours, hot and hungry. He licks into your mouth, swallowing the moan that’s threatening to escape. There’s nothing left but him. His touch, his taste, his scent. He is everywhere, in every sweep and valley of your body, in every corner of your pounding heart. He consumes you like fire consumes a forest, and you are happy to burn, burn, burn.

All too soon he pulls away, and you are left empty. Bereft. Lost. But he leans back in, his lips brushing your ear, his voice dark with reverent desire.

“I’ll worship at the altar of my divine goddess until my penance is paid a hundred fold.”

[hansensgirl]

salvatore. | vi.

series summary. | Bucky Barnes doesn’t believe in love anymore. Especially after the tragic, unknown death of his wife, Natasha. He thinks it’s stupid and a waste of time and- oh my. Hello there, you. There you were, with your notebooks and your novels, writing your heart away. He’s hellbent on saving you from this nasty world, his elusive neighbor that has him under the stupid spell of love. You soon find yourself trapped in a tragic love story with Bluebeard, not Prince Charming.

warnings. | NONCON/DUBCON, dark themes, manipulation, gaslighting, arguments, toxic relationships (reader and steve), cheating, nightmares, violent behaviour? (no actual hitting), spying, voyeurism, stalking, use of cameras, angst, fluff, soft!dark!bucky, protectiveness, obsessiveness, creepy bucky, perversion, + more. 18+, MINORS DNI.

word count. | 2.5k

pairings. | Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Steve Rogers.

a/n. | i know i haven’t updated in a while i’m really sorry!! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog!

“Doll, please calm down. You’re scaring me,” Steve begged, sitting on the bed. “How can I calm down, Steve? Huh? You only just came back, and now you’re going away again,” you spat, crossing your arms. Your stance was almost adorable, but Steve knew that if he made a comment, he’d just push you further away. He couldn’t let that happen. “Why can’t you ask for a vacation, Stevie? We haven’t done anything romantic since my birthday, and that was six months ago.” You turned your back to Steve, and he sighed.

“I’m sorry, Doll, but I have to go save the world,”  he solemnly told you. His voice carried a faux sadness that shouldn’t even be there in the first place. “Bullshit, you have so many more people to do it. Sam, Wanda, Tony—don’t lie, Steve. Why are you going to Sydney? There’s no way you have to travel to another continent to mess up some sort of drug deal. Isn’t that what the police are for?” you questioned him.

Tears stung your eyes. They were ones of anger, but you couldn’t lie. In the midst of them, were sad ones ready to leak, too. Steve stayed silent. “For fucks sake, Steve, you can’t even give me an answer?” you asked in disbelief. You gasped as the tears began to fall. “I knew it, I knew it the whole time,” you whispered under your breath. “Knew what?” he asked, walking up to you. You backed up into the corner of the room.

“That you’re cheating on me,” you mumbled quietly. “What? Baby– no, listen.” He paused to take a deep breath, meant to calm his nerves down. “I don’t want to hear anything, Steve. I know about you and Natasha. All those trips? Those text messages? God, the only person I feel bad for is myself. How could I be so blind to it all?” you shook your head as you spoke. You walked around Steve’s strong figure and headed towards the door. “Where are you going?” He called out, following you behind.

“For some fresh air, I can’t handle this,” you yelled back, but Steve only sped his steps up. “You’re not leaving me, Doll,” he growled, stepping in front of you. “I never said I was, but now you’re tempting me,” you snapped back. “You’re not leaving me, Doll. You never can.” Steve gripped your shoulders tightly, and you winced in pain. “Even if you did, I’ll go to the ends of the Earth to get you back.”

Your eyes shot open. Gasping, you struggled to catch your breath. Your heart pumped like no tomorrow. Each time your chest raised to the highest point, you felt like you had a heart attack. You fell back onto your pillow, and you couldn't care enough about the slightly painful thud that came with it. Nightmares were never pleasant. Though they give amazing writing inspiration, they still were not nice.

Unfortunately, your nights seemed to be filled with them. Every time you fell asleep for the past week, you’d wake up in a panicky mode. At that point, you were okay with settling for a weird dream that resembled surrealistic art. Who wouldn’t want to have a Dali-inspired dream? You rubbed your eyes roughly and could feel the exhaustion in your every movement.

Your phone rang loudly. The sound made you jump in shock, and you reached to your bedside table for it. The screen read Bucky’s name, and you sighed. You answered the phone and brought it to your ear. “Hey, Bucky,” you croaked tiredly. He laughed, and you could hear the exhaustion in his voice. But the sound of tiredness differed from yours. “Did I wake you up?” he asked, and you moaned. “No, I just woke up,” you told him. “Why would you wake up at one in the morning, Doll?” he asked.

“Nightmare,” you breathlessly told him. You could swear on the daisy that began to bloom two weeks ago that you started to feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders. “Talk to me, Doll. Was it bad?” he questioned. “Yeah, it was worse than the previous ones.” You hadn’t even realized that you just spilled your secret. “You’ve been getting them for the past few nights? Doll– I’m so sorry, but you know you can always talk to me, right?”

His words were more reassuring than anything Steve ever said. “I know, it’s just… The nightmares—they’re very personal. You might not understand how scary they are. Plus, I don’t want to bother you,” you sheepishly admitted to him. He sighed heavily. “I understand, Doll, but you can never bother me, okay? I’m the one who’s supposed to feel that way, not you,” he chuckled, just to ease the tension.

“Now, I’m gonna be there in the next twenty minutes. Do you think you can sort yourself out by then?” he asked, and you started to stutter. “Uhm, sure, yeah, sure,” you agreed obediently. “Good girl, I’ll be there in a few.” And with that, he hung up. Your eyeballs bulged out of their sockets at those two words he uttered. Steve never said anything like that. He’d always just nod, even if you couldn't see it.  You simply wrapped yourself in one of your most favourite blankets because changing seemed pointless to you.

There was no way he was not in pyjamas… right?

You turned the lamp on next to you before you could convince yourself that your chair was a monster. Your back was cold but also covered in sweat. You hated that feeling, and your mother always had the best way to describe it. “It’s like heating something in the microwave but failing nonetheless. The outside of it is warm, but the inside is still cold.” She’d tell you as she’d wipe down your back with a towel.

That was before everything went downhill. Before you turned thirteen and before she married him.

You sighed and got out of bed, willing yourself to put the kettle on. Maybe you’ll make some hot chocolate, or perhaps some tea… In your mind, twenty minutes always seemed like a long time. It sounded as though you could get quite a lot done in a third of an hour. The reality always felt like getting ice water poured on you as a method for waking up.

Unless your life was significantly put together, those one thousand and two hundred seconds are equivalent to five minutes. The ceramic lid for the jar clinked as you set it down on the counter. You grabbed two chamomile tea bags and closed the pot with a ‘ping!’. You grabbed two cups from the cupboard and then groaned loudly when you realized that you hadn’t turned the kettle on.

With a flick of your finger, you turned it on and leaned onto the counter. You sighed pretty loudly. Your head fell into the cup that your hands made, and you closed your eyes. You didn’t have a headache, and your eyes didn’t hurt either; you were just exhausted. You sighed once again, and the kettle clicked, telling you the water was done boiling.

Timing was everything, as always. And sometimes “timing” is just a coincidence, just like how Bucky rang the doorbell as soon as the water stopped boiling. You rubbed your eyes and walked to the door slowly, not caring that he may have been standing out there for thirty seconds too long. You opened it—not all the way—but wide enough for him to catch a glimpse of your tired form. “Hi,” he greeted, letting himself in.

Bucky looked around your home as if he was waiting for someone to round the corner with a knife and shotgun. “Nice place,” he said with an awkward smile on his face. “Thanks, even though our homes are formatted the same way,” you chuckled. He nodded, and then a few seconds after, he let out a forced laugh. You looked up at him and gave him a meek grin, and then went back to making the tea.

“I’m so glad I have two bags of chamomile left. It’s like the universe has decided to bless me again,” you breathlessly said. “What was the blessing before?” he curiously asked. “You.” You poured the hot water inside the cups, and then the bags of tea followed. “Honey or sugar?” you asked, and he pointed at the sugar. You passed it to him wordlessly, and the only sounds that filled the room were from your lungs and cups of tea.

“So… Do you want to talk about it?” he asked after a few more wordless moments. “S- sure, thank you once again! You’re so kind,” you sighed as you brought the cup of tea to your mouth. Bucky copied your movements, but just a bit slower. “It was about my ex,” you admitted once you set your cup down. Bucky struggled to keep his eyes from popping out of their sockets at your mention of him.

“It was so similar to an argument we had a few months before I broke up with him… The only difference was that he wasn’t as… terrifying. And yet he still scared me,” you solemnly spoke. Bucky stretched a hand across the counter and placed it on your shoulder. He pleasantly squeezed it a bit, and you were tempted to lean into his touch.

But you just can’t, because Steve is in the back of your mind, taunting you.

“What really happened in the dream?” he asked, and you took another sip of tea. “Well… We were fighting. He had to go away for a while, even though he just came back. He’d always do that; it’s what helped destroy our relationship. He valued his job over me, and also, someone else,” you sadly recounted. Bucky listened in carefully, because he wanted to help out his best girl in any way possible.

“I caught him in his lies because his excuses became so… Inexplicable. I always had that nagging feeling that he was cheating on me with his friend, his coworker. That argument confirmed everything. I couldn’t handle it all being true, so I tried to leave for a walk,” you paused to take a shaky breath. “He got angry and stopped me, and then he threatened me,” you bluntly finished.

Bucky was so glad that his hand was no longer resting on your shoulder because Goddamn was his fist clenched tightly. You brought the cup of tea up to your mouth, and Bucky just watched you as you diverted your eyes away from him. Once you set the cup down, Bucky grabbed your hands. In contrast, his were extremely hot, and yet the flesh one was dry. Yours were a bit cold, but they were soft and a bit dewy. You looked up at him, only to lock eyes.

“It’s just a dream, doll, okay? And it’s in the past, it won’t happen again, our minds can be crazy sometimes, so try not to worry about it,” he whispered lowly, bringing both of your hands up to his mouth. He pressed a kiss on both sets of your knuckles. You nodded softly, and you leaned down to press a kiss on his flesh knuckles in return. You smiled against his skin, even though it was bruised and slightly red. You wanted to ignore the weird feeling of his metal arm against your sweaty skin, but you couldn’t help it.

“Can- Can I do the thing to your metal hand?” you asked him, hopeful that he would say yes. Bucky nodded, with a slight smile on his face, of course. You closed your eyes and puckered your lips just a bit, pecking the metal. His breathing hitched, unbearably so. It was something he would always catch himself doing whenever he’d think about you or whenever he was simply just in your presence. You opened up eyes and looked back up at him, and you could see the way his eyes glazed over.

He let go of your hands abruptly, allowing them to fall onto the marble countertop. His fingers slotted themselves against your cheeks, and he grabbed your face gently. Bucky pulled you close to him, and he smashed his lips against yours. The kiss was messy, but it was full of passion. You kept your lips locked against his, and your fingers carded through his long hair. There was no other movement apart from the way Bucky kept trying to pull you closer and closer.

It was almost like he wanted to merge bodies, minds, and souls with you.

A few more seconds passed, and Bucky eventually pulled away. He rested his forehead against yours, and you exhaled a shaky breath. “Steve… His name is Steve, and I hate him,” you admitted to him, and Bucky kissed your nose. “And I hate him too, doll,” Bucky said before parting ways from you. There was a bit of tea left in his cup, but you had finished all of yours. “Get some rest, okay? Or just close your eyes for a bit. You need it,” he advised, and you nodded. “Thank you, Bucky. I really appreciate you being there for me,” you expressed to him.

“Anything for you, doll, now go tuck yourself in,” he urged once again before walking past you to the door. You placed the cups in the sink, and neither of you looked back at each other. You heard the door shut with a loud echo, and you sighed heavily. Maybe you were going to listen to him. Sleeping in isn’t that bad after all.

Bucky always believed that being vulnerable was stupid. He also believed that opening up was stupid. But, to be fair, he believed that anything involving emotions was stupid. But when it comes to you, he felt the opposite. Maybe vulnerability was good. Perhaps it was exactly where you needed to be for him to finally be able to love you.

And it was then when he realized that he hadn’t been loving you properly. He hadn’t been loving you the way he wanted to love Natasha, and that just ended up with her six feet deep with flowers growing above her body. He needed you, but you clearly needed him more than anything else. Bucky was desperate for you at times, of course, but you matter more to him than anything else.

Bucky looked down at his desk, staring at the single plane ticket that would take him all the way across the state of New York. He hadn’t been there in over a year, and that was when he first learned of Natasha’s promiscuity. Philandering around with his best friend, fucking said best friend in the most memorable locations he had taken her.

He honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if he found out that the reason why Natasha showed up to the wedding venue late was that she was too busy lifting up that poofy white gown for Steve. He thought that by emptying out Pandora’s box when she passed, everything would be okay. That he’d be able to move on without a care, and he wouldn’t have to shed any more tears for her. Bucky won’t. He promised himself he wouldn't.

He just had a few loose ends to wrap up before he made you his. That was all.

[handsoffmyfriends]

Alrighty for Bakugou fluff, can I request a scenario where he wakes up but he's still REALLY sleepy so he actually thinks he's still dreaming so he goes downstairs for breakfast in the dorms, kisses the reader and hugs them while getting food, just the two of them. Only the reality is he never confessed to his crush yet, the bakusquad is there and he burns his tongue on his coffee thus waking up and grasping what he just did. EMBARRASSMENT GALORE

LUCID DREAMING

— bakugou katsuki was one of the few people who experienced very lucid, very life-like dreams. usually, he was pretty good at telling when he was dreaming and when he was awake. usually.

PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

WORD COUNT: 1,099

WARNINGS: second hand embarrassment, bakugou swearing, distressed denki noises

A/N: HELLO THIS WAS THE FUCKING FUNNIEST THING OF MY ENTIRE LIFE i seriously could not stop giggling over this for a solid 5 minutes !! anon i am BEGGING YOU turn on your location, you deserve all the recognition for this HILARIOUS prompt nhfdsjklhgkjfds

You were in the kitchen, preparing another round of coffee for the squad. It was Sunday and you all agreed to do nothing except indulge in caffeine and watch shitty movies with shitty snacks. Bakugou had yet to weigh his opinion on the matter, but considering he was still in bed - at the righteous hour of 8am, no less - he had waived his right to an opinion. 

“Think I should make Bakugou one?” you called out.

The resounding “NO!” from every single person stopped you in your tracks. 

“Bakubro is really particular about how he likes his coffee,” Kirishima explained, leaning back over the couch to look at you. “It’s so manly.” 

“You mean insane!” Kaminari corrected, voice high in distress. “Have you actually seen how he makes it?” 

“It’s a crime against coffee,” Shinsou added sleepily. “He doesn’t even use real coffee.” 

“Jokes on you, buddy, but Y/N isn’t using real coffee, either,” Sero teased.

“Y/N doesn’t burn the shit out of it, though,” Shinsou shrugged. “Speaking of which, can you hurry up? I’m gonna pass out over here.” 

“Be grateful!” Mina snapped, lobbing a pillow in Shinsou’s direction. “Y/N, don’t make his anymore! He doesn’t deserve it!”

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll take that back right now, Pinky,” Shinsou snapped.

You laughed at the squad’s banter, tuning it out as you continued to prepare coffee for everyone. Shinsou included, since you didn’t have a death wish. Excluding Bakugou, since Kirishima was right. He was picky when it came to what he put in his body. You doubt he would appreciate the gesture if you fucked up his first coffee of the day.

Speaking of the blasty boy, he finally made his appearance. You’d never seen him look so exhausted, you were actually kind of concerned about him. He was always the first one awake, banging on your door to drag you down for morning training. Sometimes he would try Kirishima, and he knew better than to try getting Kaminari up early. Shinsou was a lost cause. Having him practically drag his feet across the room was a sight you never thought you’d ever see.

He paid the rest of the squad zero attention as he made his way into the kitchen with you. “Good morning, Bakugou,” you greeted, though even to your own ears it sounded like a question. “Did you... sleep well?” 

He grumbled as he dragged himself over to you and— wait, what!? You flushed red instantly as he slung an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. You were compliant since you didn’t know what was going on. Why was he—

Your brain shut down when he planted a sleepy, sweet kiss to your cheek and said, in a gravelly voice, “mornin’ babe.” 

He pulled away as if everything was fine, as if kissing you like you were a couple was a normal thing to do. Sure, you might have harboured a secret crush on the guy, but you were friends first! He never showed any indication of liking you back, so you never pursued anything. So... what the fuck!? 

Should you say something? Was this a thing that was going to happen now? You wouldn’t exactly be unhappy if that were the case, but... it wasn’t supposed to work like that! 

The rest of the squad looked on in stunned silence. Of course, they’d seen.

(Unbeknownst to you, the squad had managed to wrangle some of Bakugou’s more personal feelings from him, several months back. It had taken a lot of bribing, and he only ever said it once. That Bakugou Katsuki had a crush on you. They’d all been sworn to secrecy, lest he turn to villainy to murder all their asses.)

No one knew what to say. No one dared break the silence. It was so surreal, it felt almost dream-like in the absurdity of it all. 

You just watched as he milled about in the kitchen, making his famous shitty coffee with nothing but boiling water. You’re sure he forgot to add something cooling. Before you could warn him about scalding his entire tongue off, he tipped his head back and took the most daring chug of boiling bean juice you had even seen. 

It ended up exactly how you’d imagine it would. He sputtered it all out with a series of curses, nearly throwing the offending mug across the room. 

And then he froze. Abruptly, as if he hadn’t even been aware of his surroundings, he looked around to see the squad all leaning off the edge of the couches, to see you standing there entirely red faced. 

His face went deathly white for a second before all the blood came rushing back, his face flushing even redder than yours in undeniable embarrassment. “Holy fuck, I’m awake.” He sounded so mortified, wide eyes flying to you and then locking onto your friends.

The silence lasted exactly three more seconds before Kaminari burst out laughing. “So bold, Kacchan!” 

“That was so freaking manly!” Kirishima praised with a tear of pride.

“It’s about time Bakubabe made a move,” Mina squealed with excitement.

“Bakugou really is an all or nothing guy, huh,” Sero nodded, vaguely impressed.

“I’m never going to get my fucking coffee,” Shinsou groaned, curling up on the couch and burying his face into the cushions. Through some other worldly powers, he was out like a light, fast asleep despite the ruckus going on around him.

The squad roared with laughter. There was no stopping their whooping and hollering, both cheering and teasing Bakugou. 

“Shut the hell up!” Bakugou shouted, hands sparking off. That just made the idiots laugh even louder. He felt embarrassed, he felt humiliated, and he wanted nothing more than to blast the smug faces off his dumbass friends but you were there, looking at him with a mix of your own embarrassment, confusion and concern. It was enough to pull him back from his murderous rampage. 

“Bakugou...” you started, but he interrupted you.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it, Y/N. I thought I was dreaming.” 

Wrong choice of words. Your face turned sweet, your smile like sunshine. “Aw, you dream of me? Bakugou, that’s so sweet!”

If it were even possible, he went redder in the face. Your group of friends laughed even louder. 

Feeling bold, you decided to tease Bakugou just a little more. You stepped up close to him, mimicking his moves on you earlier, placing a chaste kiss to his cheek. “You could have just said you wanted a kiss, Kacchan.”

[fluffywings13]

Chance Meetings

Six year old Izuku watches the two other kids yell and push a purple haired boy around at the top of the jungle gym, and something boils inside him, dad always says that sometimes being a hero means doing the right thing, without hesitation, even if it seems everything else is stacked against you.

Gritting his teeth, he jumps down onto the slide, landing in a stumble, he runs across the playground, and pushes the purple haired boy behind him, throwing an arm out protectively. “Leave him alone! He didn’t do anything wrong!”

The two other boys scoff, kick rocks at them, and turn away, stomping across the playground to do whatever else bullies do when they’re separated from their victim.

Izuku waits until they’re far out of ear shot, and turn, looking at the other boy in concern. “Are you okay?”

“Huh….” His new companion seems shocked. “Y—Yeah..?”

He doesn’t believe him and points down the street with his thumb. “You’re bleeding, do you wanna come down to my place? It’s right down the street. My dad could help you.”

The purple haired boy rubs the back of his neck lightly. “You’re….Sure it’s okay?”

Izuku nods firmly. “Absolutely.”

“O—Okay.” The other boy nods. “I’ll come.”

“Cool, follow me.” The greenette turns and gestures for the other boy to follow. “My names Izuku, what’s your name?”

“H—Hitoshi…” Hitoshi spares him a shy glance. “Y—Your dad won’t mind?”

“Nope.” Izuku shakes his head. “My dad hates bullies and it’s not easy to make him hate anything.”

The purple haired six year old looks up at the large nice apartment building they approach, it’s so tall, and a man standing outside opens the door for them with a smile. “This is so cool!”

“It’s home.” Izuku presses the button for the elevator. “Me and dad live all the way at the top, dad likes being up high, he likes being in the sky.”

The elevator doors open with a ding, and Hitoshi follows Izuku inside, watching him push the very last button on the list. They ride up in companionable silence, it takes a couple minutes to go from the ground floor all the way to the top, and Hitoshi’s eyes widen at the apartment they step into, directly from the elevator, stumbling when Izuku pulls him forward.

“Dad!” He turns to the other boy when he calls out. “Are you home!”

“In here, nestling!” A voice calls from a room to the right.

“Come on, Hitoshi.” Izuku gestures for him to follow him as he steps forward. “Dad can help you.”

“Uh….okay.” The purple haired boy follows him, crossing his arms nervously, and looks around in slight awe at the large bedroom they step into. “It’s so big.”

“Yea,” the green haired boy nods. “It’s big, but it’s not bad. Dad?”

“In the bathroom.” They follow the sound of a man’s voice into the bathroom, Hitoshi pauses in his tracks at the large red wings on the man’s bare back, feathers darkened from being wet, giving away to the notion that the man just got out of the shower. “What’s up?” The man turns, and he swallows when gold eyes meet his, and the man frowns. “Who’s this, Zu?”

“This is Hitoshi.” Izuku grabs his hand and it helps ground him in his shock. “He’s my new friend, he was being bullied and got hurt.”

“I see—”

Hitoshi can’t hold it back anymore. “You’re Hawks!”

The blonde man, Hawks, smiles at him. “Sure am, kiddo, you can call me Keigo.” He gestures him forward. “Come on, let’s clean you up.” He steps forward shakily and raises his arms slightly when the hero curls his fingers under his arms and lifts him up to sit on the bathroom counter. The six year old watches the hero open the cupboard above the sink and pulls out a few things, disinfectant, cotton balls, bandages. “This might sting a little, but it’ll only be a minute.” Hitoshi nods, squeaking softly when the hero dabs at the gash on his cheek with a cotton ball of disinfectant, it only takes a minute, at the most, and the man secures the bandage over it. “There, good to go.”

Hitoshi smiles at him shyly. “Thanks, Keigo.”

“Hey, no problem.” Keigo lifts the boy off the counter and sets him down on his feet. “Bullies suck, they’re worse then villains, you ever see’em again, you tell’em you sic Hawks on them.”

The boy giggles softly and nods, stumbling slightly when Izuku catches his hand and tugs him forward. “Come on, Hito, I wanna show you my room!”

…

They explore Izuku’s collection and play for a while until they grow bored. “Hito,” he looks up at his new friend questioningly and Izuku grins. “Wanna play heroes and villains?”

He smiles slightly. “Sure…How do you play?”

“Come on,” Izuku jumps up from his spot on the floor, Hawks and Present Mic dolls completely forgotten. “Let’s go get my dad, he’ll play with us too!”

“Uh, okay.”

Hitoshi climbs to his feet and runs after the other boy when he darts out of the room. Keigo smiles at them when they appear in the kitchen, eating a banana, and looks between them inquisitively. “What’s up, lil birds?”

“Dad,” Izuku bounces slightly. “Will you play heroes and villains with us?”

“Yea, sure,” the hero tosses the banana peel in the waste basket. “Want me to be the hero or the supervillain?”

Hitoshi looks at his new friend questioningly, because he doesn’t know which one to choose, which one does someone decide Hawks to play, the hero or the villain, Izuku grins and leans in closer. “It’s a lot more fun to be the villain when you play with dad.”

He doesn’t really want to be the villain, but he does want to have fun, and if anyone would know which one is more fun to be when playing this game with Keigo, it would be Izuku, so he nods. “Okay.”

Izuku turns back. “Hero!”

“Okie dokie.” Hitoshi watches the man turn around and open the cupboard behind him, reaching in for something, and his eyes widen when he pulls out a package of Oreos and holds them out. “Here’s your stolen treasure, go hide it villains, you got two minutes before this hero comes searching.”

The greenette snatches the full package of Oreos up. “Come on, Hito!”

He grins slightly when the hero winks at him and turns away, not watching the two boys dart off to wherever they were going to hide their stolen treasure, and he chases after Izuku to catch up. The other boy leads him into a back closet he didn’t know was there, and crawls behind boxes with him, where there sits an open air vent duct built into the wall. “We’ll hide’em here.” Izuku sets the Oreos down in the duct. “Okay, my dad plays dirty when he’s the hero, our best bet at keeping the secret location of our treasure is to avoid him at all costs, so you have to be really sneaky.”

“How do we know he doesn’t know where we are already?” Hitoshi whispers softly. “What if he’s following us with his feathers?”

“Nope, he’s not.” Izuku shakes his head. “He sheds his feathers when we play heroes and villains so he can’t cheat, he puts them in his closet until we’re done playing, so we’re safe unless he catches us.”

“That’s so cool!” Hitoshi curls a hand around his mouth and giggles softly. “Oops, sorry.”

The green haired boy giggles. “It’s okay. So, no matter what tricks my dad pulls, don’t tell him where we hid our treasure, because if he can’t get the location out of us when we stop playing, we get the whole pack for ourselves.”

“Really!” This time the purplette is mindful not to shout. “That’s awesome!”

“I know!” Izuku cheers softly. “Oreos are the best cookies!”

“I think so too.” Hitoshi spares the package a glance. “Now what?”

“Now we go follow my dad around and see just how great of an actual hero he is.” Izuku giggles softly. “You know that dog from Up?”

The other boy nods slightly. “Uhuh?”

“Well, that’s my dad,” Izuku giggles softly. “Especially when he sees something shiny.”

Hitoshi giggles. “Really?”

“Uhuh,” The greenette nods. “He one time flew into a billboard because there was sparkling glitter on it.”

Hitoshi giggles again. “That’s so funny!”

Izuku giggles and nods. “It is! Auntie Rumi recorded it! I have the video saved on my iPod. I can show you when we’re done playing.” He crawls out from behind the boxes. “Come on, Hito, remember, don’t let my dad catch you, he plays dirty.”

Hitoshi crawls out after him. “Okay, Zu.”

…

Hitoshi was good at being sneaky, he was naturally really quite, like a cat, he loves cats, he wants a cat, but Ms. Matsuda won’t allow it, he doesn’t like Ms. Matsuda, anyway, he’s being really sneaky, peering around the empty living room as he creeps from cupboard under the sink to the bathroom.

And shrieks with laughter when he’s scooped up suddenly from behind. “Okay villain,” Keigo curls an arm around his waist and whispers in his ear. “I’ll only ask you once, where did you hide the cookies?”

“I’ll never tell!” He cries, kicking in an attempt to free himself, shrieking when he’s flipped over, dangling upside down in the hero’s grasp, his lavender t-shirt sliding down slightly. “Hey!”

“I can see this interrogation requires some measures to loosen your lips, villain.” The six year old squeals with laughter when fingers claw into his belly. “I’ll torture the information outta you, villain, I’m not above doing so.” Zu was right, Keigo does play dirty, and he’s even sneakier then he himself is, he didn’t even know he was behind him until he was picked up. “You ready to talk yet, villain, you know what you have to do to stop this.” The purple haired boy shrieks with laughter, struggling between deciding about pushing his shirt back down or trying to pull the hero’s fingers away from his belly, he settles on the latter. “Still not ready to talk yet, huh, that’s fine, we can change tactics.”

Hitoshi breaks after two raspberries are blown into his belly and screams the location of the cookies, he gets two more just because Keigo’s a dirty hero, and shrieks when he’s tossed over the man’s shoulder, watching his wings grow as he calls his feathers back, and they make their way to the far back closet.

“Hito! You got caught!”

He pushes himself up against the hero’s back, giggling, and nods at his new friend. “Keigo’s a mean hero!”

Izuku giggles and nods, shrieking when he’s scooped up off his feet by a few dozen feathers, they both hear the crackling of the package of Oreos and Hitoshi shrieks when the hero spins around quickly. “Come on villains, let’s go get some milk for our cookies.”

They got to have the whole pack of Oreos anyway.

[anika-ann]

Just a Human (S.R.)

Type: mini-series turned one-shot, SHIELD recruit!reader

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 8750

Summary: Being a SHIELD recruit was a dream come true, especially with people like Sergeant Barnes or Captain Rogers offering an input to your class’ training.

It was also hard work for many different reasons. One of them being all those guys around; not all of them were exactly fit to become heroes, simply because they were not good people.

Maybe you shouldn’t have pointed it out so openly though. Then again, what would the world turn into if you kept your mouth shut when feeling like speaking up?

WARNINGS: so-so graphic description of assault almost turned sexual, violence and a bit of blood, boys being boys in a real bad way, language

A/N: Steve Rogers vs assholes, round 2. Also, ‘you’ vs. assholes. And Bucky in the mix.

A/N: This was originally posted as a miniseries on AO3, but now edited, I decided to thrown it in as a long, sort-of three part one-shot. Enjoy and mind the warnings.

(gif source dailymcugifs, divider by firefly-graphics)

A Handful of Spite

“Can you believe the fucking nerve on him?!” Henry hissed, punching the bag harder and catching your attention. The statement was followed by his companion nodding grimly.

You tried to ignore the walking testosterone jerks; you never liked either Henry or Jim. The reason was simple – they were, as you loved to remind people, an advertisement on toxic masculinity. Bullies on top of that. The kind of people you wanted to avoid at all costs.

You weren’t that lucky to have that chance though.

So instead, you scoffed under your breath and continued your sit-ups series. You had more important things to do than wonder about what they were talking about this time.

It was your regular training session with the other SHIELD recruits led by Sergeant Barnes – which--- oh my. When joining the academy, you had no clue that the director’s ‘you’ll be learning from the best’ meant that of all things; trained by the more-than-once-believed-late James Buchanan Barnes. Everyone here knew his story – or at least some of it. The brainwashing. The murders. His heroics to make up for them as much as he could. His everlasting friendship and a nickname that was tied to it. Bucky; the very best friend of the oh-so-praised Captain America.

Oh, speaking of which, he joined the sessions too. You were being trained by not one, but two supersoldiers slash war heroes. You couldn’t believe this was your life sometimes, but you were not one to dwell on it. You just accepted it as a fact. An abso-fucking-lutely incredible fact.

“He’s just a fucker, man. Forget about Barnes, you have Cassie in your pocket. Just ‘cause he’s all sticky sweet on her doesn’t mean she’ll suck his-“

You made a disgusting face, pushing harder to tune out the conversation. You wanted to gag and at the same time, your blood was boiling.

Could there be a jerk who was objectifying women more than Jim? A guy who was using his lower brain more frequently than him? Doubtful. You really wanted to throw up at rubbish that was leaving his mouth.

Not to mention that he was throwing dirt on Sergeant Barnes who absolutely didn’t deserve it.

“-he’s like that to all of them. The chicks. And they fucking dig him, it’s disgusting. He makes the poor brainwashed kicked puppy face, reminding the sob story of his and they’re all dropping to their knees I swear…” Jim continued, practically spitting the venomous words.

You squeezed your eyes shut, half furious and half guilty; the sergeant did have a heart-breaking backstory and many girls were making eyes on him, their hearts softened by the tragedy and his bravery, yes. And you couldn’t say it wasn’t moving you as well, filling you with compassion – but compassion only. Obviously, Sergeant Barnes was objectively a very attractive man too, but what they were saying… ugh.

He didn’t deserve these insults; he was not trying anything on anyone, he wasn’t offering his ‘sob story’, actually being rather secretive about it for obvious and no doubt painful reasons. He couldn’t really couldn’t be blamed for the girls fawning over him a bit more because of it, could he? What was he supposed to do? Stop breathing? Stop doing what he chose to be his job?

It wasn’t his problem – and thank god for that – that these two assholes had egos the size of Texas and couldn’t handle a little competition.

Seriously. Walking testosterone-filled jerks. You seriously considered moving from the station you had been given, eyeing Captain Rogers, checking if he would notice.

“Well, he’s not. Getting. Any. From. My. Chick. Asshole!”

The bag swung wildly under Henry’s blows despite Jim holding it. You laid off, taking your fifteen second break.

“I bet he’s fucking them all on side. Always so… so soft on them. I bet he’s leaving all the hard shit for bed,” Jim snorted, somewhere between angry at him competition and amused at his own crude joke.

You were gonna puke. You were sure of it.

“And he’s too hard on us. Showing off for them. I would fucking want to see him holding up against us without that metal arm-“

You had enough. You sat up sharply, panting, your face flushed, unsure whether it was from the exercise or the exchange you were listening to.

“Are you serious?!” you hissed their way, earning their shocked glances.

And then, Jim’s face twisted in annoyance and disgust.

“Oh geez, you’re one of them, aren’t you?” he snarked, rolling his eyes. “The fangirls.”

More heat burned in your cheeks. You weren’t kidding anyone; both the sergeant and the captain had showed up in your not so innocent dreams, but you were only human, alright. There was only so much time you could spend with two very fine men like them in one room, a bit sweaty and rough (or just slightly gentler with the ladies) until your brain reacted. Mostly to the captain. Not the point.

But actually crossing the line? Being a part of the thing they were describing if it ever existed? Waiting in the line until one of them picked you for the evening with a promise to do it again after they… Jesus what, tried all the others? No, thank you. You had some dignity left.

Also, you simply couldn’t imagine them doing such thing. Raised in a different era, tried by war and pain and lost, yet remaining the great men they were? Just nope.

“No! Jesus, are you even listening to yourself?” you hissed, minding your volume. You hoped that the low hum of voice in the room, of others working out, giving each other pointers and the noise of the machines would offer you a cover from the rest of your companion.

“What, you wanna tell me they’re not going easy on you? On any chick, really?”

“Yeah, well, maybe because they don’t actually want to break our bones during training. Supersoldiers. Superstrength. Does that ring a bell?” you pointed out, reaching for your water bottle, hoping either of your trainers would forgive you when seeing you only took a sec to have a sip.

Henry scoffed, leaning onto the bag. “Sounds like someone has a crush…”

You couldn’t help the motion of your hands, inconspicuously throwing them in the air in frustration.

Why were you even speaking to them? You should have kept your mouth shut!

“Oh go to hell, Ulrich! You’re just jealous and scared that your girl whom you treat like a piece of shit will run off,” you murmured, wiping your forehead off sweat.

“Yeah, because they’re sure pulling their punches with guys too,” Jim complained again, rolling his eyes as Henry now watched you, eyes narrowed in anger – oh you hit a nail on the head, alright.

You couldn’t but mirror Jim’s action, deciding to stick to Devil’s advocate, because…. yeah, because it wasn’t fair to either Rogers or Barnes. They were good people and didn’t deserve this.

“So they’re not beating the shit out of us like they do with you, get over it.”

“They’re humiliating us! Showing off their big muscles, trying to impress all the chicks-“

You chuckled incredulously as they actually admitted the real reason behind their bitching so openly; as if you hadn’t known the whole time. Ego. Ohhh, the ego was bruised. Call 911, CPR is gonna be needed! God, how did they even live with ego this big? Compensating for something?

“They’re doing their job. Training. Yes, they go a bit harder on you, because your physiology can take it. Did it ever occur to you that they have bigger problems than entering a pissing contest with you just so they could steal the girls? Jeez… just… maybe try to be less of assholes and the girls will be into you too… ”

You missed the hard look Henry gave you, laying down again, this time on your belly to work on your back.

You wheezed when a knee suddenly dug into your back, violently and painfully knocking the air out of your lungs. Before you could react, one of your arms was twisted behind your back, Henry’s voice raspy right into your ear, low and dangerous.

“Listen, you little bitch, you don’t get to talk to me like that. Understand? Huh?”

He was so proving your point, but you didn’t have the time You tried to breathe in properly, and free your arm while pushing up on the free one, your muscles burning with the effort. Shit, he was heavy. You wheezed again instead of the answer.

“Can’t hear you, sweetie. What was that?”

Peripherally, you could see heavy boots approaching rapidly, making a quick guess of who that could be. You gritted your teeth, tears of humiliation pricking your eyes. You were not about to give Henry the satisfaction of proving his point of your trainers being sweet on all the girls even if this so wasn’t that.

“Screw. You,” you let out with the last oxygen left, grabbing his left calf and sharply tugging to the very same side. A half-second later when his weight of you eased just a fraction, you threw your body to the left as well, adding a jerk of your legs.

Both of you rolled over, him ending up under you and you quickly spun away, gasping, desperately fighting for air. As it burned your windpipe, it was as painful as welcomed. Little spots danced inf ornt of your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away – luckily for you, Henry didn’t dare to attack you again.

You shook your head before pushing to sit up, only to meet with Captain Rogers’s strict gaze.

“What the hell is going on in here?” he demanded, sharp blue eyes flickering between the three of you.

Maybe you were hallucinating, but he seemed to be murdering Henry with his eyes. Uh-uh. You would have been glad he was, hadn’t Henry been talking about favouritism only few moments ago. You pushed up simultaneously with him and you both stood straight, facing the captain.

“Apologies, sir,” you stated mechanically, his gaze immediately shifting to you. Your heart stopped. Oh wow, you would swear the blue of his irises was on fire. You gulped. “We had a slight disagreement with Mr. Ulrich. I’m aware I shouldn’t have been talking to him in the first place. I’ll take whatever punishment is given to me.”

“Yeah, I bet you’d liked taking a punishment from him, wouldn’t you…” Jim muttered under his breath, making your gut twist in disgust.

Was he ever not thinking about sex? You prayed the captain didn’t hear him and you had to stop yourself from shooting Jim a murderous glare.  

“I don’t think that’s necessary. Consider it a warning. Mr. Ulrich? You have something to add before you take a few laps?”

You could literally hear Henry’s blood boiling. You opened your mouth to ask for the same punishment, not wanting to have his point proved. You never got the chance to speak.

“No, sir. I only don’t understand why I’m the only one being punished,” Henry questioned innocently and you gritted your teeth.

Maybe because you attacked me, you dickhead?

Captain glared at him for a moment before his gaze shifted to Jim. “You’re not. Mr. Larkin is following your example.”

You pressed your lips together, this time to stop a smile threatening to spread on your lips. God, who knew America’s Golden Boy could get that sassy? You cleared your throat.

“If I might speak, sir, I deserve to run the laps as well,” you noted carefully, earning a curious expression from your superior. You could tell he wavered, a strange spark appearing in his eyes.

You desperately wanted him to let you run too even if you breathing was still a bit difficult; because otherwise Henry would be proved right. Yeah, nope.

“Very well, then. Ten laps around the gym, recruits. Then you move to the station free at the moment. Go. Don’t let it happen again.”

The three of you nodded dutifully and picked up a pace. For some reason, you could feel the captain’s eyes on you while he walked back to assisting his friend with hand-to-hand training. You glimpsed the sergeant leaning to him, probably asking what was that about, but the blond just shook his head.

Towards the eighth lap, you were being overpassed by Henry and Jim, who ran together; faster than you, whether you liked it or not.

“This isn’t over, bitch,” his hateful hiss reached your ears and you picked up speed stubbornly, not showing them that they might intimidate you even for a second.

They wished.

Even when leaving the room after the session was finished, you would swear there was a pair of blue eyes burning a hole to the back of your head. You hoped that you’d soon be free of the captain’s attention.

You sure didn’t want him to watch too closely. You didn’t need him behind your back to see mistakes you sometimes made just like anybody else. Also, it would be harder to admire and ogle him; you did that occasionally, okay. You were just a human, after all.

A Handful of Mistakes

Shauna, your roommate and bestie from science division of SHIELD, was very patient listening to your lament about guys being dicks; she was awesome like that.

So you vigorously vented your frustration with male population, rolled your eyes when mimicking the silent threat of ‘this not being over’, had a very unhealthy piece of cake at the cafeteria that afternoon and moved on.  

You should have known better.

Henry’s words came haunting you few days later; which was too bad, because you had already forgotten about them, until the very moment they had punched you to the face.

…or rather to your shoulder and it wasn’t even a punch, more like one of those bumps people did, especially when they were being jerks, shoving you too hard for you to believe it was an accident.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there,” you threw over your shoulder sarcastically, continuing your way to the women’s locker room.

In hindsight, that was probably mistake number one; ignoring Henry and not starting a fight right there, not to mention being mouthy.

To be fair, you had no interest in further interaction; you were exhausted from the training, you were sticky and sweaty and all you craved was a shower. You would have just gone to have one at your dorm, but Shauna was having a hot date and you didn’t want to step on her toes. So you had taken your toiletries with you, using the showers near the gym.

Using the gym shower; mistake number two. It meant all of the students being gone by the time you emerged in fresh homey clothes, hair dripping water, because you hated hair-dryers and avoided them unless they were completely necessary.

You had spent much longer in the shower than needed, allowing your muscles to completely relax under the spray of water. That was mistake number three.

The fourth mistake was your pride. When you saw Henry, Jim, George (at least you thought, you weren’t sure, not having many classes with him) and Frank in the corridor, clearly waiting for you, since they bounced off the wall they had been resting against when you appeared, you should have probably been smarter and scream for help right away.

But no, you were being Miss Future Agent and you weren’t intimidated by four equivalents of high school jocks. Yep, this one was definitely the biggest mistake of yours.

“Fellas,” you beckoned to them, passing them gracefully, your bag over your shoulder along with the wet towel.

You barely made a few steps before a hand gripped your arm, harshly tugging you back. Your heart jumped into your throat, but you tried your best not to let it show. You turned to Henry, looking at his face, head tilted back just slightly due to his height.

“Is there a problem, Ulrich?” you asked calmly, earning a lift of his eyebrows at your tone.

“You know there is. I told you it was not over.”

You tried to ignore your pulse skyrocketing and the panic rising in your gut. You were not that stupid – you understood the implications. You knew that with four guys slowly circling you, you would have to fight bites and nails if it came to it and probably still lose. Sometimes it was just better to walk away and swallow your pride; a concept Henry and Jim clearly didn’t understand.

You jerked from Ulrich’s grip, still hoping you could walk away and call it day.

“It is over for me. Now if you’ll excuse me…“

Yes, you were being naïve thinking it would work.

The bag was torn away from your shoulder, your fingers automatically letting go to stay attached to your hand. You gritted your teeth, blood slowly reaching the boiling point.

Also, maybe you were more than just a bit afraid. Not that you would ever admit it to them.

Henry’s hand reached for your chin and your snatched it away in disgust before he could even make contact with your skin. Amusement dances in his eyes along with a flash of anger.

“Oh, kitty has claws?”

You felt another hand on your backside, sending a shudder up your spine, so you grabbed it, shoving it away as well.

Jim. Why weren’t you surprised? Pigs. What the fuck was their problem?

“I’ll let you know when I meet any. Now get out of my way,” you spat, your gut twisting as a sly grin spread on Henry’s face and he made a step right into your route.

“Or what? You’ll scratch, kitty? Or you’ll scream? Like a little girl?” he mocked you in high-pitched voice, his face lowering to yours so you were only inches apart.

“Bet you’d like that,” you murmured, narrowing your eyes when his breath with an unmistakable hint of alcohol fanned over your face. “No, I’ll offer you a breath-mint, because honestly you should do something about your breath.”

Yep, that was the mistake no.5 and definitely an enormous one.

You heard one of the guys chuckle, but you never got to enjoy the thrill of victory.

Out of blue, there was something around your neck, the weight of the towel shifting (add that to the mistake list) and your body flew backwards, colliding with a male one. George was it?

Your hands went to instinctively grab after the towel crushing your throat, but suddenly they were wrested down and pinned to your sides by strong arms. Jim had caught one, Henry another. Fucking cowards.

With your breath coming out short with both lack of oxygen and rising fear, your pulse thundering in your ears, you tried to jerk from their grip, but they wouldn’t budge, having an undeniable advantage.

Oh fuck, fuck, you were so fucked.

“Sassy little mouth, aren’t we?” Henry hummed, wry expression on his ugly face. “So dirty, feels like we should wash it with something. Who wants to go first, fellas?”

Loud alarm bells rang in your head, icy shiver running down your spine, stomach turning over.

Oh no, you don’t.

Your knee snapped up on instinct to gain the momentum, followed by a swift low kick to Jim’s knee.

He yelped and let go of your arm, allowing you to send an elbow straight to George’s face; and finally, your airways were free as the assault as the towel trap loosened.

You coughed, fighting for oxygen and mindlessly threw the item away to have at least one arm free.

“Bitch!” one of the men yelled; you weren’t sure which one, but you didn’t waste time thinking too much. Survival instinct took over.

Tears prickled in the corners of your eyes and you barely silenced the scream when Henry took advantage of your hesitation, twisting your arm behind your back. Fuck he really had a thing for that, didn’t he?

You tried to kick him, but someone else’s leg somehow managed to swept their leg under yours and you fell on your knees. Sharp tug on your hair caused you to cry out and obediently tilt your head back. Few tears escaped you, but you pushed up in attempt to get up again.

A kick coming from behind threw your body forwards and you nearly fell on your face when Henry finally let go of you. You tasted blood as you bit your cheek, but you managed to at least land on your shoulder instead of face-planting.

It still hurt like a bitch, but at least you still had all your teeth… or you thought so, not having time to check. Catching a movement from the corner of your eye, you managed to roll over before a kick to your side could hit you with full force. Frank’s foot only brushed you, but you were sure you’d have a bruise as a souvenir anyway.

A punch landed next to your face when you dodged it in the last moment, someone grabbing your legs and holding them together. Between your efforts to free them, you didn’t have time to chase away the body suddenly holding your arms as well.

“Fuck--- she’s a handful.”

A ragged battle cry erupted from your throat as you tried to jerk your body from their grip on pure instinct, every self-defence move you had ever learned flying of the window.

“More fun to break her, don’t you think?” Henry purred, his hand sneaking around your waist under the hem of your t-shirt.

Your head spun like crazy at the skin-to-skin contact and nausea hitting you hard. You wanted to puke and scream and punch and you couldn’t make yourself to do either, tears rolling down your cheeks as your body convulsed in a desperate attempt to break free.

There was ringing in your ears, disorienting you, but aware of the hand suddenly covering your mouth you tried to bite it on instinct holding you down.

“Oh-ho, biting!“ you heard, strangely muffled as if you were under water.

“I like them feisty-“

“Playing hard to get!”

“Shit, SHIT-“

The pressure on your legs eased all of sudden and you immediately kicked with all you had, catching the rising figure in the calf, knocking them off balance.

“Fuck!”

You would swear the floor vibrated, but in must have only been your mind playing tricks on you. George disappeared from your field of blurry vision; you only saw a fist sending him flying sideways.

Yep, your mind was fucking making up things, because there was no way he could have been thrown away like this by a single punch. You weren’t complaining; the relief the illusion provided was almost blissful.

Henry’s body weight vanished as well in nearly supersonic speed as if he wanted to escape the illusion. So you did the first thing that came to your mind; with your hands free, you grabbed his ankle, stopping him from running away. Which, thinking about it, was stupid, because only a moment before, you would have given anything to get him the fuck away from you.

He kicked back blindly, but his sole never met with your body – he was dragged away and… and lifted to the air as if he weighted nothing.

Blinking your tears away, your fuzzy mind cleared.

Only to reveal a very muscled and very much pissed off blond slamming Henry against a wall and then letting his suddenly unconscious body slide down.

You gasped, your eyes catching a glimpse of the fourth figure – Frank – several feet away, running for his life.

“Buck?!” came a shout and before you could question it, a metal arm emerged from behind the corner, stopping Frank dead as he rushed straight into it.

“Yep?!” the dark-haired supersoldier yelled back, sounding almost amused.

What the hell was happening? What the hell just happened?!

You blood sizzled in your veins, loud and rapid thump-thump-thump banging in your ears, face damp with several shed tears, body aching and your mind fucking racing.

You heard a whimper on your left, automatically turning to the sound. It left Jim’s lips, his form crumbled on the floor, struggling to stand up.

The captain’s knee seemed to come out of nowhere, digging into Jim’s back and pinning him down again before you even registered a movement.

“Is it fucking over now?”

“Steve, let him be. Not worth it,” Barnes’ voice tried to reason, sounding rather growly, but not nearly as loud as before. He approached your group in rapid pace and Rogers scoffed and let go.

You gulped at sergeant’s angry grimace, crazily convinced he was angry with you for all the mistakes you made that lead to this; but his expression softened when his gaze fell on you.

“Hey there,” he greeted you almost casually, holding out a hand to help you up. “Can you stand?”

You blinked several times at the suddenly dispassionate tone, even if you still sensed something bubbling under it. You shook off the thought and accepted the offered hand – the flesh one. The detail didn’t escape you, your bran in overdrive. Of course he hadn’t offered you the metal arm. He didn’t want to scare you. He was thoughtful like that-

-or not. The strength he dragged you up with was way too much for you, more so when combined with the speed and your state. You stumbled over your feet, a wave of dizziness messing with your balance.

You awaited the upcoming reunion with the floor, unable to stop the fall, but it never happened. Before you could as much as reel, gentle hands supported you in a firm grip, pleasantly warm against your bare arms.

“Whoa, take it easy,” Rogers’ voice warned you, soothing. For some reason, it felt more like ‘I got you,’ instead of ‘take it easy.’

You took a deep breath, Barnes’ hand letting go of yours as he semi-voluntarily handed you over to his friend.  

“You’re bleeding from your mouth.”

Thanks for the reminder, I noticed.

You swallowed the snarky remark, well-aware of the sergeant’s care. You fought against the urge to spit the blood out.

“Is fine…” you muttered, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Bit my cheek. I’m pretty sure I—“ you quickly ran your tongue over your teeth just to confirm your theory, “-still have all of my teeth.”

Sergeant Barnes gave you a tiny smile, the worried crinkle that had found its way between his brows disappearing.

“Whatever you say.”

His gaze flickered to something behind your head, probably in order of exchanging a wordless conversation with your still present crutch. Not that you were complaining. The weight of what had happened was slowly settling on your shoulders and you were grateful for any support – and who were you kidding, Captain America made for a pretty reliable support.

“Why don’t we leave you in pu- Cap’s capable hands while I-“ Barnes’ jaw clenched, pale eyes scanning the four bodies on the floor, calculating. “-take out the trash?”

You nearly choked at the choice of his words, wincing. Captain Rogers’ hands squeezed your shoulders reassuringly and you nodded, not sure what else to do.

You didn’t want to look at Henry. Or Jim. Or their loyal companions.

So when the captain carefully spun you on your heels, you didn’t protest and your feet started moving on autopilot in the direction he had set.

“You okay to walk without support?” he asked softly, a stark contrast to the voice you remembered from earlier or from the training sessions.

You knew that if you said yes, he would let go of you. Honestly, his touch felt damn nice, firm and yet somewhat gentle, a pleasant contrast to harsh fingers of the men who had the nerve to attack you – you had to swallow bile rising to your mouth at the awfully fresh memory. Fuck, it had been so close, just a minute later and--- you shook your head mentally and tried your best to erase this memory from existence.

You decided not to abuse the kindness the captain was offering. After several indulging steps, you quietly confirmed he could release you. You found out that sensing his large frame by your side as if he was your bodyguard was nearly as comforting. Nearly.

You didn’t have the strength admonish yourself for basking the light of his protective persona. Future agent of not, you still had the right to want to feel secure at times.

After all, you were only human.

A Handful of Truths

You didn’t realize you were shaking until a blanket was tossed over your shoulders.

You were sitting on a short couch in what looked like a cosy office, hair still damp, body finally registering the ache caused by previous events, just like your brain was slowly taking in what had happened.

Captain Rogers, whose courtesy was to escort you from the hellhole you had been attacked in, had clearly took it as a personal mission to take care of your injuries; it hadn’t dawned to you until you were seated and your mind helpfully supplied you with ‘This isn’t the infirmary’.

He pulled a swivel chair to sit face to face with you, a box of medical supplies left open on the coffee table at your side. You didn’t realize he had moved the chair or dug the box from god-knew-where until the items were simply there.

“How do you feel?” he inquired, attentive eyes scanning your hunched form. You instinctively curled onto yourself, snuggling further into the blanket. You knew you should come up with an answer, but your brain started to hurt with the effort to do so. “I guess that’s fair. Can you tell me what hurts the most?”

You quickly glanced at his openly kind face, his baby blues still watching for any reaction that would clue him. Your throat went dry at the compassion of display and you had to swallow before speaking – and think. What hurt the most…?

You didn’t know what possessed you to tell him what you did, but it came out before you could stop yourself.

“My pride,” you croaked, causing his eyebrows jump just like the corner of his lips.

“That’s probably fair too. Then again, I’d rather know about something I can fix.”

You felt your body relax a little at his informal tone – you might even say a jovial one, but you could still sense too much worry behind it to call it that. You attempted a tiny smile at least to show him that you were more or less fine – you weren’t – and brilliantly failed.

“Landed on my shoulder. Probably gonna have a bruise on my side from when… when they kicked me. Ribs and arms might be a bit tender for few days, ‘cause they were heavy as they--- they’re heavy,” you voice wavered as you saw the muscles on the captain’s forearms clench and his hands curled up in fists. You sheepishly looked up to his face. “I got lucky.”

His eyebrows rose again in a ‘figures’ manner as he leaned back to the chair.

“Nothing else apart from that, your cheek and your pride?”

“I’m a little cold, but you took care of that,” you admitted, taking a deep breath in as you tugged on the blanket pointedly.

Despite what you were saying, you didn’t feel okay, the tremble never quite leaving your body. It wasn’t hard to figure out why. You stared at your knight in shining armour, gathering courage to do what was needed. You tried your best to meet his gaze, feeling so small and embarrassingly weak in front of him.

“Could have been much worse if you haven’t showed up. Thank you.”

He pressed his lips together, shaking his head. He leaned in, his elbows on his knees.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t faster... I should have kept closer eye on Ulrich,” he muttered under his breath, making you wonder if you only imagined it. “Your pride shouldn’t be hurt. You held yourself against them just fine.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the honestly his voice held – and you were honestly grateful for the slight shift of attention. Oh. Had he forgotten how things had been when he had arrived?

You weren’t sure whether you should remind him. You definitely didn’t want to remind yourself, but before you could solve your little dilemma, he clarified.

“You haven’t started training the combat against multiple opponents yet. Let alone four opponents, all of them having both height and weight advantage. You couldn’t exactly go all Black Widow on them if no one showed you how.”

He accented his words with a reassuring smile and you almost believed him. The shivers finally eased, most likely thanks to the warm treatment you were being given in all senses of the word. The inner cold gradually melted and you were left in nothing but pleasant warmth.

Mentally, you patted your pride gently on its head; you couldn’t quite disagree with him. No matter how helpless you had felt earlier and how ashamed for it you were, the truth was you were still learning. You weren’t a finished agent yet.

You breathed in and out, avoiding the gaze that was still on you. It felt like a freaking brand with how intense it was. You couldn’t say you hated it necessarily, you only wished you at least didn’t look so pathetic. No make-up, probably red with a smudge on blood somewhere, perhaps with some bruising already forming, hair wet and messy. You absently ran your fingers through it in attempt to fix it a bit as if it could help.

What had you been talking about? Right… those assholes being cowards and coming at your four against one.

“I… I just fucking hate bullies,” you grumbled darkly, your hand immediately covering your mouth when you realized what you had said. Oh. Language. Still your superior you’re talking to, no matter how nice. “Sorry. Please, pretend you didn’t hear the f-word. I just hate bullies, period.”

“I might have sworn earlier too, so let’s call it even,” the captain offered, one corner of his lips raised. Oh. He had, hadn’t he? ‘Is it fucking over now?’ What did that even mean? “And so I heard.”

“What?” you yelped, your mind racing again in search for the meaning behind his words.

“I mean… I heard you. When you were defending Bucky, in the gym. I’m pretty sure your exact words were about a ‘pissing contest’.”

“Oh god,” you breathed out, your face no doubt set aflame. He had heard you; that was why he had said he should have kept a closer eye on Henry. Oh. Ohhhh.

Also, did he just say ‘pissing’?

“You weren’t wrong by the way. But… neither were them.”

You blinked in surprise. What? “About?”

You knew he didn’t mean the sleeping around with recruits, your gut was screaming that at you, because they wouldn’t, but still, you rather asked for clarification. If he didn’t mean that part, which one then?

“Ladies do fall over for Bucky,” he hummed with a lopsided smile, a playful twinkle in his eyes. It did something to your belly, a strange familiar shift that was very inappropriate, but hell, people needed to cut you some slack. He was impossible not to ogle and you didn’t have the energy to control your reaction after today’s events. “And I don’t really pull my punches when I’m training those two in particular.”

“Why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself and think better of it.

His gaze bored into yours, burning with intensity and with a glint of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“I don’t like bullies either.”

Did he lean in even more or were you so focused on his face it only seemed closer?

You weren’t able to look away. His blue eyes simply locked you in, not allowing you to escape. The strangest thing was that it wasn’t scary. It should be, he was— he was a freaking captain, your superior, a superior to a lot of people, which you were constantly forgetting ever since he had saved you from falling on your ass in the hallway and you had to remember that.

Before you could though, your racing mind packed up and let your body, your mouth to be precise, act without supervision.

“Not trying to impress the ladies then, huh?”

His tiny sheepish smile cut off the uprising panic in your chest when you realized how bold of you was to say that. He lowered his gaze, giving a subtle shrug. “Guess I wouldn’t want one falling for guy’s muscles and a show-off of dominance.”

“What for then? Honesty? Sincerity? Kind eyes? Strong moral compass?” you heard yourself prying, internally horrified how far you had come when saying that. Your face was drained of colour when it clicked. You were literally naming things you liked about him, absolutely shamelessly putting them in the open. Oh shit. Fix it, fix it, fix it! “…the sass?”

His eyes went wide and he burst out laughing so loud it startled you for a second, especially as he threw his head back with the outburst. Then you reluctantly joined him, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment.

“The sass!” he howled, unable to hold back another fit of laughter and when you peeked at him through between your fingers, you saw his palm resting against his chest as if it could help him stop laughing.

Just like that, blood rushed back into your cheeks.

“Oh god, I made it worse!” you cried out, wishing for the earth to swallow you, frantically looking around for the fastest escape route. “Oh my god, I have to switch schools now… excuse me-“

You hastily got up from your seat, but a quick hand snatched yours, pulling you back.

You stumbled, landing ungracefully right back in your place, this time without the blanket. Captain Rogers was watching you with the corners of his lips high, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Sorry for grabbing you like that. But no, please. Stay.”

Your throat closed off when you heard his soft plea, only traces of humour in it. Yeah, you bet he hadn’t met anyone with such big mouth for a while, so he thought it was better to keep the comic around.

“Captain Rogers, I-I- what I said, it was completely out of line-“ you stuttered, only to be interrupted.

“Were you making it up?” he questioned.

You gulped, your mind screaming at you to say yes to save you the humiliation. And yet, with the cerulean irises staring into your eyes, your mouth did the exact opposite.

“No.”

Dammit.

“Then why would you go?” he questioned softly. His hand still didn’t leave yours, only easing the grip into a kinder one. You felt like a brand was being burned into your skin. A pleasant one, so you didn’t retreat. Oh, you’d never. But what on Earth was he getting at? “We need someone honest like you. People who stand up for others, even if only to defend their honour. That is the kind of people who should be in this line of work. The good ones.”

You opened your mouth, no sound coming out as his speech shook you to your core, tickling your stomach pleasantly along with your pride. His words seemed to be coming from heart, genuine, which was not helping your blood pressure and suddenly wobbling limbs.

“Even when they have potty mouth and put their foot in it? ‘Cause I seem to excel in that.”

“Especially then,” he chuckled and you could tell there was no pinch of a lie in it.

Something was in the air, crackling deliciously, and you liked it. You wouldn’t be able to describe it properly, the feeling simply too unique, but it was tickling your fancy so weren’t about to complain.

“O-okay. Thank you, Captain,” you whispered, revelling in the sight of the gentle curve of his lips.

“You started with the compliments, Agent.”

And just like that, you wanted to run for your life again, drowning in embarrassment.

What were you even still doing here? Complimenting him? Enjoying his touch? Flirting with him?

Were you nuts?!

Him, a captain— no, the captain. And you, an agent--- hell, you were not even an agent yet!

The captain whose eyes flickered to not-an-agent’s lips for the shortest of moments, widening a fraction before returning to her eyes.

Oh, now you were definitely going nuts. You were hallucinating. You must have hit your head too. He wasn’t into you and you being into him was very stupid.

You should go.

…any moment now.

…just get off your ass for god’s sake-

“Can I ask you something?”

You blinked yourself back to reality, shushing the voice in your head, curious smile appearing on your lips involuntarily. The softness of his voice felt better than the blanket before and you wanted to cocoon yourself in it, postponing the leaving plans to never.

“Sure,” you replied, the smile remaining on your face despite your better judgement.

He lowered his eyes to your joined hands, his thumb running over the back of your hand in a feather-light touch. You heart positively stopped at the moment, your breath hitching. Holy shit, what was he doing?

“This, does it… do you hate it?” he whispered the question, not meeting your eyes as if he was too shy, which was… ridiculous. He had no reason to be shy.

It still felt like a shot through your heart – a nice one, though, it that was possible. The words combined with the way they were spoken, it stirred something in your belly, warming it up and you couldn’t deny it anymore.

You really wanted this man; whatever this was, it was getting beyond a silly crush. Also, for some reason, it seemed as if he was trying to tell you he was interested too, which you thought was pretty freaking crazy.

“Stay honest, please,” he pleaded when you didn’t answer right away.

Did you hate it? The chastest display of affection if you dared to call it that? Your mind raced, trying to figure out why on earth he would ask that. Because the only reason you had come up with so far was completely impossible.

“No,” you said simply, earning a brief glance up before he looked down again. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Good. That’s good… and would you… I’m aware this is out of line and I—I want you to answer truthfully without fearing the consequences-…“

It was your turn to swallow loudly, because what? What did he want to ask that he considered it out of line? He was your superior – you could think of thousand ways of how you could get out of line, but him? And why should you fear the consequences?! Did he want you to help him to hide a body?

That’s not it and you know it. You know what he wants to ask, you rational side admonished you.

Oh please, shut up. Since when you switched sides?

“O-okay. What— what is it-- Steve?” you stuttered out, freezing when his name left your lips and his head snapped up, his hand giving yours a squeeze. Oh boy.

“Would you possibly say you like it?” he blurted out and your brain went to overdrive at the hope behind his expression.

Huh. He really just asked that. Oh shit. Oh wow. Your jaw fell into your lap – only figuratively, you hoped –, your ears buzzing, your blood bursting in excitement.

Oh yeah, you understood why he mentioned the consequences. Either you could say no and you’d fear he might treat you differently or you could say yes and you’d ‘fear’ he might treat you differently.

The fire in your insides burned hotter at the idea of the latter.

His hand slowly left yours, giving you a simple choice you still couldn’t believe you were given.

Holy shit. What do you even say to something like that? Coming from someone like him? Your brain froze as you only managed to stare.

Did his— did the corners of his lips turn down? Was that sadness pooling in the sea of blue of his eyes?

Oh no, you don’t.

“Y-yes,” you admitted sheepishly, closing your eyes at the heaviness of your confession.

You could feel the weight on your shoulders as silence fell, only interrupted by your soft breathing that sounded ominously loud.

Your fingers twitched when his warm palm covered them again, your lips parting in surprise. You kept your eyes closed, indulging the strange moment. His free hand caressed your other as well, the gentlest of touches, tender, contrasting with rough callouses on his fingers.

“I like it too.”

At that, you gathered enough courage to look at him, only to see him inspecting your face closely, observing your reactions. It shocked you that it wasn’t uncomfortable as you would expect; must have been the kindness and wonder in his gaze. You forced your lips to curl up in a tiniest smile. Steve smiled back with same hesitance, his face lighting up.

He looked like a boy next door (making it to a modelling agency), shining eyes and happy grin forming on his lips. He was more gorgeous than ever.

Still keeping your hands, he raised his right one, his knuckles brushing your unharmed cheek. The gesture was so tender it brought tears into your eyes, causing him quickly retreat.

“Sorry-“

You shook your head with a self-deprecating chuckle, squeezing his fingers before he could let go of you completely.

“It’s not you—I mean… it is you,” you babbled nonsensically, taking a breath to gather your thoughts. “It’s just— that was really sweet. No, that’s not-“ Not the right word. “It was beautiful. I swear I never felt so…” loved “-cared for in my life.”

He frowned, a shadow of pain running over his face. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I know that today was… unpleasant.”

Seeing his reluctance and discomfort, you went for the first thing that came up to your mind. You straightened up and pressed a light kiss on his cheek, withdrawing much slowly because once you were in his orbit, it was hard to leave.

His breath hitched, his eyes glued to you intently, flickering to your lips again.

“You didn’t upset me, Steve. That’s the last thing you could do with that,” you assured him, face still inches from his. His name rolled off your tongue easily this time, even though it still left your heart fluttering.

“And if I asked you to have dinner with me?”

Your stomach twisted in a pleasant knot at that suggestion, your lizard brain already thinking about having a dessert for a second; and you weren’t thinking cake or ice-cream.

Yeah, barely. This was a guy ready to treat you right, you were sure of it. He certainly wasn’t about to kiss you now, not afar what happened today, he might go for it after the dinner and that was only if you got lucky enough. You swallowed the disappointment at the idea, quickly shaking it off.

Make up your goddamn mind, woman. You should be glad that men who weren’t thinking with their lower brain still existed and one of those was clearly interested in you, which… yeah, what the hell, that might take a while getting used to. Add the fact that he was being incredibly considerate of how you might feel after being assaulted and you had a winner of your heart. You realized you were actually happy he wouldn’t try anything even nearly ‘funny’.

You were fine with hand-holding and brushes of his fingers on your face, which honestly, the tenderness behind that gesture made you toes curl. You didn’t care much if that made you a freaking sap.

“Still not upset,” you gave an answer at last, deciding he probably liked when you were a bit cheeky.

He offered a closed lipped smile in response, confirming your theory.

“Does that count like a yes?”

You shrugged, the corners of your lips twitching. You had no idea when the change had happened, but all you wanted now was to giggle. And maybe snuggle, but you weren’t about to say that out loud.

“You tell me.”

He licked his lips and shook his head as he retreated. Before you could protest – or have a heart attack, because the motion of his tongue attracted your gaze like a magnet, setting your core on fire –, he sat beside you, leaving enough space in case you didn’t like it.

You liked it, subtly moving an inch closer to his side. Damn, he radiated warmth. Maybe just a bit closer…?

“Cheeky dame, aren’t you?” Steve more stated than asked, reaching for the blanket pooled around you to cover you again.

You didn’t realize you had goosebumps before his hands gently tugged you in, careful not to touch you where you could consider it inappropriate.

Yeah, forget about any funny business any time soon.

You huffed. “Clearly. It did get me into trouble before.”

His eyes darkened a bit, his face noticeably falling.

No, nope, bad move, miss not-an-agent.

“I should walk you back to your dorm,” he remarked, already rising to his feet.

You first reaction was to say no, because you weren’t ready to say goodbye yet. Your second was to say no also, because Shauna probably still had her hot date.

Instead, your hand shot up to catch his, effectively stopping him. He froze before returning to his seat, tiny question mark in a place of his face right next to his soft smile.

You cleared your throat, deciding to give him the latter reason.

“Uhm… my roommate has a date. If I go there, I’ll probably find a sock on the doorknob,” you admitted, biting your lip when he raised an eyebrow and relaxed to the cushions.

“People still do that?”

You chuckled, the fact that not only he was a captain, but also Captain America, which meant he was about hundred years old, hitting you like a train.

“Yeah, people still do that,” you assured him, amused.

He pouted, which you found unfairly adorable and… kissable. Nope, later.

“Sure, make fun of the old man…” he uttered, but a spark of laughter lighted up in his irises, so you assessed he wasn’t too offended. He was most likely used to the teasing.

As an idea of interpreting his words differently popped in your mind, you grinned.

“Is that a permission to make fun of Sergeant Barnes?” you pried playfully, sending Steve into another surprised fit of laughter, not unlike when you had complimented his sass. Your heart swelled at the joyful picture of him and the prospect of seeing more of it in future.

Due to his laughter, you didn’t hear he knock on the door if there was any n the first place. The door simply swung open, revealing the other supersoldier. Speak of the Devil…

Seeing his friend, Steve burst out laughing once more. Sergeant Barnes closed the door with a puzzled look.

You just shrugged in response, opening your mouth without a sound coming out and he took in the scene in front of him again, a smirk appearing on his lips. Under that gaze, you felt your face heat up. You could only imagine how that looked like, Steve cosily close to you, laughing, your hand right next to his thigh as his outburst had sent it sliding from his hand.

The smirk on the supersoldier’s face only deepened when he noticed how flustered he had made you.

“Punk?” he questioned and Steve wheezed once more, raising a palm in the sergeant’s direction, turning to you first.

He offered you a hand to shake. Confused, you accepted as his eyes twinkling in mischief bored into yours.

“Deal,” he mouthed, sending your lips twitching, and only then he shifted his attention to his friend. “Buck?”

The supersoldier had his eyes narrowed, watching you suspiciously.

“I’m gonna regret sending you with her instead of doing it the other way around, aren’t I?” he stated, not actually asking as his gaze flickered between the two of you.

His expression pushed you over the edge and the giggle building up in your chest for the last few minutes finally broke free. You simply couldn’t contain it anymore despite having two superiors in the room. Steve gave you a warm smile as the sound left your lips, clearly not bothered by it.

You hoped you’d be forgiven by Sergeant Barnes as well. After all, you were just human.

“Yeah, Buck, I think you are.”

S.R. masterlist

Sorry for the cavities at the end. Or should I say ‘you’re welcome’? Whatever works for you :))

Thank you for reading! 

[just--another--daydreamer]

How they realize that they are in love

» Katsuki Bakugo // Shoto Todoroki // Izuku Midoriya x gn!reader (no pronouns used)

» Genre: Fluff & Angst » Summary: Just some HCs about Baku, Todo & Deku (seperately) and how they realize that they are in love » Warnings: fighting, death, injuries & swearing (Bakugo) implied abuse (Todoroki) panic attacks, overthinking & mentions of fighting (Midoriya) » Words: ~1.7k » Author's Note: These were fun to write, if you’d like to see them for any other characters, feel free to ask! This was inspired by @/costellos, check their stuff out

You can find a link to my Masterlist etc in my bio and pinned post

⋘ ──────── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──────── ⋙

» Katsuki Bakugo:

Bakugo realizes that he is in love with you when you put yourself in danger to help him

Usually, Bakugo would be furious if someone else saw him as a person in need of help and tried supporting or even protecting him in a dangerous situation, but this time it feels different

Instead of anger boiling deep within Bakugo, close to making him explode, he feels an unusual numbness at first, while he watches your body fall to the ground after taking a hit for him. Even though he is often unable to identify his own feelings and is out of touch with them, he notices that change withing himself

The numbness quickly gives way to fear. He tumbles forward as he screams your name. For the first time in a while he is not sure what to do; he wants to check if you are alright, if you are alive, if you are still with him. But he also wants to charge forward and rip the person who hurt you to shreds

He feels helpless, unable to decide and unable to push those sudden overwhelming feelings aside. Instead, shock is freezing his whole body, only allowing his arms and legs to tremble. His mind is racing and screaming and calling him weak. Weak for needing your help, weak for not being able to protect you, weak for not killing this damn bastard in front of him

“Bakugo!” Your voice is feeble and barely audible over the sounds of the fight, but he can still hear you. You reach him through the clouds in his mind, through his own voice in his head tormenting him

He regains control over his body and it only takes him a few blows to knock out the enemy

In the next moment, he is cowering next to you, pulling you close, checking your vitals. Once again, his fingers tremble. You are alive, but in dire need of help

Bakugo hates being afraid and he pushes the feeling down with full force, trying to let his anger take over once again. The anger that numbs his senses, makes him care less about the people around him, makes him unapproachable and lets him keep everyone at a distance

“You damn fool!” His voice cracks. “I didn’t ask for your fucking help!” You look up at him with half-lidded eyes. “Baku-” “Shut up!” The pain in his throat from screaming is a welcome one. “Just shut the fuck up! I didn’t need you to save me, dammit!” A lump forms in his throat, taking his ability to speak. He can feel tears in his eyes, but he wipes them away before they can fall

Bakugo leans down and puts his arms under your body to carry you to an ambulance. Under his breath, he mutters, “I’m so glad you’re alive.”

  » Shoto Todoroki:

Todoroki realizes that he is in love with you when you are patient with him

Most people in Todoroki’s life expect a lot from him, if not way too much. His father expects him to be the perfect hero and successor to him since the day his quirk awoke, UA expects him to always be one step ahead of everyone else and he puts those expectations on himself as well. Even though it is not hard for him to be all those things at this point in his life, having someone around who is patient with him and does not care if he fails or lets himself go from time to time is a relief

Like on most days, Todoroki and you walk home together after class, since you have to go into a similar direction. Most of the time both of you walk in silence or you try making conversation with Todoroki only to be met with silence or short answers

Todoroki knows that he is not the best person to be around at all times, that he does not always get jokes or acts distant with people – he just does not know what to say and how to react to certain things

Having friends is hard for him. Either he overshares about his past or keeps people at a safe distance. Todoroki needs time to figure out this new thing called friendship for himself. Can he even call his classmates friends? Can he call Midoriya, Iida and Uraraka friends? Can he call you a friend? What do you and the others call your relationship from your perspectives?

He has known you for a while now and you walk together every single day and you talk and you text, so you are his friend, right?

“Todoroki?” you catch him a little off-guard. “Hm?” “Would you like to hang out some time?”

He looks up at you and tries reading your expression. A friendly smile, waiting for his answer. It is his decision. You are not deciding for him, you are not demanding anything from him. Not many people have ever asked him to decide things for himself in the past. Everyone always decided in his place, especially when it came to big things like becoming a hero. It is a simple yes or no question over a small thing, yet Todoroki has trouble coming up with an answer

You seem to notice his hesitation. “It’s totally fine if you don’t want to hang out,” you calmly tell him. There is no undertone in your voice, only genuine kindness. “You can take your time deciding, you can take your time getting comfortable with having friends, or even just the idea of it.” Did you have another secret quirk that allowed you to read minds? Todoroki pushed that thought away. “Take your time. I promise that whatever you say, I won’t be mad or hurt by it. Alright?”

Even though you do not say anything to compliment or embarrass Todoroki, he feels himself blushing. Just a little, but he turns his face away to not let you notice. You are patient with him. You want him to be comfortable with you, you do not want to push anything on him. A warm feeling spreads through his body and for a second, Todoroki thinks that he is losing control of his fire quirk, but he quickly realizes that it is something else – something nice and good

“Yes, I’d love that, actually.” “Okay, great! I’ll text you then?” “Yeah.”

The two of you part ways but the warm feeling stays

  » Izuku Midoriya

Midoriya realizes that he is in love with you when you comfort him

Whenever something goes wrong during a mission or a patrol, that he goes on during his internship, Midoriya is quick to blame himself for what happened. He himself and everyone around him makes him think that he needs to be a perfect hero even though he is only an intern and a student

It starts with overthinking his steps, replaying the scene in his head again and again, and sometimes even ends in panic attacks. Most of the time he tries to deal with those things alone and disappears in his dorm room, but over time you have learned to see the signs that Midoriya is not doing well and you have been trying to find ways to comfort him

You both sit on his bed as Midoriya talks about what happened earlier. The civilians that got hurt, the villain who got away, his own inability to save everyone and stop the bastard. His voice is weak, tears run down his cheeks and sobs shake his body every now and then

He goes on and on about the mistakes he made until you interrupt him

“Midoriya.” Your voice is soothing yet insistent. “Not everything that happened today is your fault. Maybe even nothing. You are still in training, there are adults who are responsible for you. Putting someone as young as you and me out there is a risk, because we make mistakes. But that’s a way to learn. We learn from our past mistakes and become stronger. The next time you are in a situation like this, you’ll be able to handle it just fine.”

Some more tears run down his face, so you pull him into an embrace. Midoriya appreciates your words. He really does. But for now, he has lost his ability to speak

“You are not alone with this. And it’s not your fault.”

Another choked sob leaves Midoriya. He hugs you back, clings to your shirt and buries his face in the crook of your neck. The way your hands draw patterns on his back soothe him until he eventually stops crying. But he does not want to let go just yet

“Thank you,” he whispers after a while. “Thank you so much.” He is not alone. He knows that he can talk to you about this, about anything. He just wishes he had the courage to open up more often

You stay like this until it gets dark, until all the other lights have gone out. Until everything is silent and Midoriya can only hear your and his own breathing. He feels oddly warm and safe in your arms, so he hopes that you will never get up to go to your room, but he knows that you have to, eventually

Suddenly, one of your hands is on the back of his head, your fingers running through his hair. Midoriya has a hard time stopping himself from leaning into your touch more. “I hope you know that I’m here for you, Izuku.” You never call him by his first name. Midoriya’s heart skips a beat and heat rises to his cheeks. He is glad that you cannot see his face right now because he is sure that it is as red as a tomato

“The same goes for you.” And he wholeheartedly means it

You linger there for another moment before finally pulling away. Midoriya does not want you to, he wants you to stay there, with him, forever. But he cannot have that. Not yet at least. And even though the circumstances that lead to this are not the best, he wishes for this to happen again soon

[troubatrain]

truth or dare - m. barzal

a/n: so @dembenchboys​ sent me an ask about how they wanted me to write a fic about Mat eating you out for the first time and then I absolutely ran with it. So happy Saturday here’s some straight up filth that i wrote in like a night (which I haven’t been able to do in forever so that’s exciting!!)

Your roommate’s boyfriend was an absolute idiot. Anthony was about half a bottle of wine deep, his cheeks red while tears were practically streaming down his face from laughter. He barged into your apartment a few hours ago, Mat in tow, ruining your girl’s night in with Zoe. Mat was apologetic, lounging on the couch in sweats shaking his head at Anthony who didn’t take your hints that they should leave.

“I just think we should play truth or dare if it's a girl's night,” Anthony argues, waving the glass of rose he was drinking around your couch, Zoe grabbing his hand to stop him from spilling it.

“I just think you’re an idiot,” You snap back, rolling your eyes at Zoe who was trying to tame her getting-drunker-by-the-minute boyfriend.

“I’ll play,” Mat sighs, sipping his beer and sitting up from the otherside of the couch.

“I thought you were on my side here,” You tap Mat in the arm, reminding him of the secret alliance you’d made a few weeks prior.

It was silly, but after Anthony and Zoe left you with Mat in a bar, Mat was pissed. Not at you, which he made clear after he told you about fifteen times he was mad at his teammate. But, he was so upset that Anthony invited you both out but couldn’t even bother to offer you a ride home. You told him it was fine, because most of the time Anthony was actually really kind to you, but Mat didn’t believe it. After he’d driven you home, Mat made a joke about how if you were both constantly forced to third wheel your friends, you could at least have each other's backs.

“I am,” Mat assures you, waving his hand at you and leaving over to whisper to you, “Sometimes it’s just easier to let him win.”

“I’ll play one round,” You sigh, Mat’s landing on your thigh to give it a squeeze, “Don’t get too excited.”

“I am excited,” Anthony cheers, an app with a bunch of random truth or dares literally open on his phone already, “You’re going first Y/N - truth or dare?” “Truth,” You sigh, leaning back into the couch. You hear a chorus of boo’s from everyone else at your answer, “Do you want me to play or not?”

“You’re so lame,” Anthony hollers, dragging out his words, tapping his phone to shuffle a truth question, “Oh this is a good one, tell the story of the best orgasm you ever had.”

Zoe’s eyes went wide, looking at you while you choked on your drink. It wasn’t a sensitive topic, the whole never having an orgasm thing, but it definitely wasn’t something you wanted to talk about with Zoe’s drunk ass boyfriend and his insanely handsome teammate. Your past boyfriends hadn’t always been great, and considering not one of them had ever gone down on you, it wasn’t surprised you’d never had someone get you off. You could feel the heat rush to your cheeks and before a lie could come to mind, Anthony already had you read.

“You’ve never had an orgasm,” Anthony accuses, a confused look on his face. You gave it away, nodding your head and not even daring to turn to look at Mat who was sitting next to you, “Oh my-” “Beau,” Zoe stops him, grabbing his arm to remind him to be nice with whatever thing he had to say next.

“How?” Anthony asks, his jaw still practically hitting the floor, “What kind of douchebags are you dating? Or is it-” “Tito, no one’s ever gone down on me and I’ve never had an orgasm,” You start to explain, anger boiling in you that you had to explain yourself at all, “You know what? I’m going.”

You get up, grabbing your glass and a few empty plates that were littering the coffee table. You heard Anthony call your name, probably to apologize for striking a nerve, but you ignored him. You were moving around the kitchen frantically, cleaning to try and distract yourself from your own emotions. You just didn’t want to talk about it, talking about your sex life just wasn’t something you did often. You hear a few footsteps in the kitchen and you turn around quickly to spot Mat was leaning against the counter waiting for you to turn off the sick.

“Zoe drove Tito home,” Mat sighs, getting up and gently turning the knob to turn off the sink, “And I’m sorry he’s a dick.” “It’s not your fault Mat,” You take a deep breath, not breaking eye contact with the plate that was in your hand, “I shouldn’t have gotten so upset with him.”

“No you should have, he shouldn’t have questioned you,” Mat argues back, “It’s okay you know, by the way.”

“I don’t need validation from you about my lack of sexual experience just because you get laid all the time Mat,” You remind him, finally looking up at the apologetic man in front of you. Mat’s eyes were soft, with a smile that matched when you finally looked at him, “It could be just me.” “Or it’s whatever losers you’re dating who won’t go down on a girl,” Mat scoffs, running a hand through his hair. His mind had been blown from the second he realized why you didn’t answer Anthony’s question. But, Mat could believe never having an orgasm, but never having someone go down on you - that should have been a crime, “I bet I could get you off.”

“My first orgasm isn’t some prize Mat,” You say, walking past Mat to open your fridge and pull out the bottle of wine you’d opened a few hours ago.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Mat rushes out, trying to fix his mistake. He looks panicked for a moment, like the gears in his head were turning. He took a few steps forward boldly, taking the bottle out of your hand and pushing you against the counter, “I just mean I could take care of you if you’ll let me.”

Mat’s large hands were gripping your waist, and you could feel yourself practically melting under his touch. You look straight at his chest, watching the chain peeking out from under his hoodie shine against the fluorescent lighting in your kitchen. You knew you breathing was heavy, and you bit your lip debating it for just a moment. Mat was a good guy, and you were sure no one would ever  find out about this if you asked him to keep it quiet, “I’m not a pity fuck.”

“You were wearing blue the first time I met you,” Mat whispers, his lips ghosting overs, “I remember that because the first time I saw you I walked over to flirt with you and then Tito introduced us.”

You smile at the memory, the light blue top you were wearing was one of your favorites. It was the end of the summer, and you were holding onto the last few moments of warm weather before fall hit New York. Zoe dragged you out that night, insisting you met her new boyfriend and a few of his friends. You remember meeting Mat that night, but you didn’t know what his actual intentions in talking to you were, “Why didn’t you do anything about it?”

“Tito really likes Zoe, I didn’t want to make things weird,” Mat laughs, his eyes flicking down to your lips that were barely an inch away from his. You lean forward, throwing caution to the win and placing your lips on Mat’s. He smiled against your lips, grabbing your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Please make me cum,” You breathe out, leaving a trail of kisses down Mat’s jaw while you directed him to your bedroom. He drops you on the bed, pulling his hoodie off and tossing it aside. You bit your lip, eyes raking over every muscle on Mat’s body that was drool worthy.

“You can stop me whenever you want,” Mat assures you, climbing on top of you and pulling you in for a kiss. Mat bit down on your lip gently, smirking when he heard a moan slip through your lips, “I could kiss you all day.”

“I assumed you’d get to it by now,” You admit, knowing everyone man you’d ever been with would have thrown foreplay out the door by now. Mat laughed against your neck, taking a break from the mark he was intent on leaving.

“This is why you’ve never had an orgasm,” Mat chuckles, picking his head up to look you in the eyes, “I’m taking my time with you.”

You smile, pulling Mat back down by his chain to meet his lips to yours. Mat’s hand snuck under your shirt, waiting for you to nod and give him permission before he tossed the t-shirt behind him, groaning when he realized you weren’t wearing anything underneath it. Mat pressed a kiss to your neck, making his way down between yours breasts. His tongue swirled your nipple, hands moving down your body to pull your shorts off. You arch your back, letting out a whimper when you felt Mat’s teeth against your skin. Mat kissed down your body, stopping when his lips hit just above your panties. He looked up at you, waiting for the green light to take them off.

“Go ahead Mat,” You breathe out, the anticipation practically killing you. Mat slipped his fingers under your panties, sliding them down your legs and throwing them to the side. He presses a few kisses to the inside of your thighs. You bite your lip, the sight of anyone between your thighs was new, let alone Mat. A whimper left your mouth when you felt Mat’s lips just above your clit, hot breath fanning over your pussy.

“You’re sure about this babe?” Mat asks one more time, a cautious tone to his phone. Something in your gut told you he was never this gentle, but the way he was handling you was just too sweet. You nod, watching while Mat flicked your clit gently, afraid if he went too hard too fast you’d either go into shock or you’d be too turned off to get you there. His tongue went flat, licking a stripe down your folds and teasing your entrance. Your hands landed in Mat’s hair, pulling on them gently while a moan slipped through your lips, “You like that?”

“Yes,” You whimper, a feeling you couldn’t quite describe overtaking your body. Sex never felt this good, because no one you’d ever been was bothered to pay attention to your body. Mat smirks, clearly pleased with himself for figuring out exactly what made you tick. He tossed your thighs over his shoulders, his tongue moving faster on your pussy while his nose was rubbing against your clit. You could feel it, the build up from pleasure while your moans became the only sound in your bedroom, “Mat, fuck, I think I’m going to-”

You didn’t even finish your sentence before your legs began to shake as your orgasm took over your body. Mat was gentle, his mouth still on you while you rode out your high, but not enough to overstimulate you just yet. You laid there for a minute, Mat pressing kisses into your stomach while you caught your breath. Even you could read the smile on his face, one that was clearly satisfied with the victory of finally getting you to cum, “You did so good baby.”

You could feel the heat rush to your cheeks at Mat’s praise, something you were quickly learning you really loved to hear, “Do it again.”

Mat smiles against your skin, a light laugh leaving his lips, “How?”

“With your fingers,” You whisper, biting your lip and looking down at Mat’s hands that were still wrapped around your thighs. Mat nods, freeing his grip on your thighs with one hand and letting his finger trace your folds, collecting the cum from the first time. He swipes it with his finger, sucking your cum right off it.

“You taste so fucking good,” Mat admits, and you let a breathy moan as a response. Mat’s eyebrows raise, “Do you like when I praise you?”

You nod quickly, pulling Mat up to meet your lips. Mat kisses were slow, but his finger that was slipping in you wasn’t. His thumb circled your clit while he caught your moans with his mouth, “Two.”

“Give a girl one orgasm and she’s already this demanding,” Mat jokes, tucking his head into your neck while he slipped another one of his long fingers in your, “You’re taking my fingers so well princess.”

“I’m going to cum again Mat,” You moan, your hips lifting off your mattress while Mat’s fingers move relentlessly in and out of you. Your hips sputtered, your legs shaking at the pleasure of your high. Mat finally slips them out, pressing a kiss to your forehead with a muttered good girl that left a chill up your spine. You looked down, the bulge in Mat’s gray sweats was prominent, a part of you almost felt guilty for leaving him high and dry like that, “Mat let me-”

“No,” Mat grabs your hand, entwining it with his and pulling it up to his mouth, “You don’t owe me anything.”

“What if I want you to fuck me?” You bat your eyelashes, trying to muster up the sexiest face you could while Mat’s brain short circuited from your question.

“You don’t have to get me off,” Mat makes his point clear, driving home the whole notion that he doesn’t want to push you into an uncomfortable situation, “I can do it myself and-”

Your free hand makes it way down Mat’s chest, running your fingers over his abs and stopping at the waistband on his sweats, “Mat Barzal I want you to fuck me.”

“Fuck,” Mat breathes out, watching you pull down his sweats and boxers in one motion, his cock springing freely from his pants. He’d been turned on from the moment he stepped in your bedroom, the idea of getting you off for the first time was just too hot for him to handle. You pumped his cock a few times, letting the precum on his dick spread. You rolled over, opening your drawer and fishing for a condom that you were thanking your lucky stars was actually in there. Mat grabs it, ripping the plastic open and rolling the condom onto his dick while you lightly rubbed your clit in anticipation, “You look so fucking perfect right now.”

“Mat please,” You whimper, a bold statement considering you’d never been one to be vocal in the bedroom about anything. Mat rubbed the head of his cock against you, slowly entering you.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Mat groans, the feeling of your pussy around his cock lived in his wildest fantasies, ones that he stored in the back of his mind so he could get through hanging out with you without getting a boner. Mat bottomed out, giving you a few minutes to adjust to how big he was. You whispered a small go against his shoulder, your lips against his skin while Mat pulled his hips back and started a slow pace in you. You gripped his shoulders, digging your nails into the muscles on his back. Mat looked down at you, pushing your hair out of your face and pressing his lips against your forehead, “I think my cock was made for you babe.”

“Harder Mat,” You moan, the same feeling you got the first two times building up inside of you. Mat took the hint, his hand snaking down your body and rubbing his thumb against your clit while he picked up his own pace. Your pussy flutters around him, and you ride out of your high while Mat tries to chase his own. His movements became erratic and with a loud groan he spilled into the condom.

The room was quiet, Mat laying on top of you while you both tried to catch your breath. You traced your finger down Mat’s back, “That was something.”

“Glad I could be your first, second, and third orgasm,” Mat chuckles, finally slipping out of you and tossing the condom in the garbage. He disappeared for a moment, coming back with a warm towel to clean you up. You winced at the contact, “I know you’re still sensitive babe but you’ve got to let me take care of you.”

Mat’s words were gentle, followed by a kiss on the inside of your thigh before he got up to collect his clothes that were thrown across your room, “I don’t want to go but-”

“I know Barz,” You laugh, knowing full well he had a morning skate the next day that if he was late for Trotz would have his ass, “You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“Listen, next time you're out with someone I can send him notes on how to get you off,” Mat jokes, throwing his hoodie back on and pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Or we can save the middleman and you can let me take you out.”

“Well I guess cutting out the middleman would be best,” You giggle, feeling Mat’s lips turn into a smile.

“So Saturday?”

“It’s a date Barz.”

[helnjk]

Don’t Be A Stranger

Fred Weasley x fem!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: breakups are tough, but they’re necessary. 

Warnings: angst. brief mentions of intoxication.

A/N: i’m so sorry this is how i cope okay. i might have cried writing this

flashbacks are in italics

–

It was silent. 

Having grown up being friends with and loving Fred Weasley, who was always so loud, so full of life and love, the silence unnerved her. It seemed as if every little thing, every small sound spooked her. Strangers’ conversations on the street that flowed in through the open windows, the ticking of the clock on the wall, the excited squeals of the children in the park nearby. 

She needed something to distract her, so she stood shakily and went to the kitchen to put the kettle on. The monotony of the task soothed her in a way, gave her something else to think about. 

Still, in the silence, her thoughts rang through, loud and clear. 

She was tired of it. Of sitting across from each other at the table, having dinner in silence as if they were alone. Of sleeping next to each other, limbs stiff and not touching, bodies working hard to keep the space between them. Of being unable to hold a conversation like they used to, instead relying on stilted exchanges to get through the day. 

They were both too scared to admit to themselves and to each other that it wasn’t working anymore. Spending their days skirting around each other, pretending that everything was alright. 

It wasn’t. And, Y/N realized as she dunked her tea bag into the boiling water, it hadn’t been alright in a long time. 

With a soft sigh, her eyes glanced at the clock on the wall. She had about half an hour until the floo in the living room roared to life and spat out Fred. The deep breaths she took, trying to steady herself, weren’t much of a help to her as she realized what she needed to do. 

Y/N loved Fred Weasley, of course she loved him, how could she not? But sometimes love wasn’t enough to keep a relationship alive. 

This was one of those times. 

They had grown up together, learned to love together, lived their lives together. Y/N couldn’t think of any memory she had that didn’t involve Fred in some way. He was always there, steady and strong, an anchor that braved the vicious tides and came out of the storm intact. But as time passed by, his presence had started to feel more like a weight on her chest, and the more they grew apart, the heavier the pressure seemed to be. 

“Oh Freddie,” she mumbled under her breath, despite being all alone in the big flat, “What’s happened to us?” 

As she paced the living room, urging herself not to look at the time every five seconds, she remembered all the good that they shared together.

The warm nights spent by the fireplace at the Gryffindor common room. How she would curl up into Fred’s chest, content with staying there forever, wrapped in all things good, soft, and lovely. He would press kisses on the top of her head, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, dreaming of what their future would be like together. 

“Mm, that feels good,” she groaned, her head leaning back against the arm of the couch as Fred massaged at her feet absentmindedly. 

Her boyfriend, who was in a conversation with his twin and Lee Jordan, turned his head at her statement, “Careful now, L/N, don’t want you sleeping on me. You told me you were going to get some coursework done. 

“Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?” 

He merely raised an eyebrow. 

“The Fred Weasley I know would never tell me to do my schoolwork over falling asleep.” 

The loud laugh that came out of him made Y/N’s heart flutter. In retaliation, he stopped massaging her and instead went to press his fingers into her side. The conversation about Wheezes left his mind completely as she struggled to leave his grip, her laugh echoing through the somewhat empty common room. 

George and Lee rolled their eyes at the couple, but said nothing. 

She remembered summers at the Burrow, the golden rays of the sun beating down on them as they soared through the air. The smell of freshly baked treats, waiting for them as they playfully teased each other on the way inside. 

“Oh Y/N dear, welcome back!” gushed Molly, holding her arms out for a hug. 

Y/N smiled wide, happily accepting the hug from the Weasley matriarch. She could easily spot the freshly baked apple pie, cooling on the window sill, her eyes scanning the familiar and welcoming space that was Fred’s home. 

“Alright mum, quit hogging my girlfriend,” Fred teased and rolled his eyes playfully. 

He was met with a light slap on the arm and a tut from his mother, “Please Fred, you spend months and months at school with this lovely girl. Give everyone else a chance with her!” 

“Yeah, Fred, who said I’m here to hang out with you? I’m definitely here to spend some time with Molly.” 

At that, Mrs. Weasley let out a laugh and hooked her arm with Y/N’s. The pair of them making a beeline towards the kitchen where they would spend hours chatting, having some tea, and ultimately preparing dinner. 

She remembered drunken nights full of laughter and giddiness. Of nearly falling over and feeling strong arms wrapping around her. The floating feeling that came with one too many drinks and stumbling through hallways, trying to keep quiet while getting to bed. 

A giggle rang through the otherwise silent hallway as Y/N tried to make it back up the many flights of stairs at the Burrow. 

“Woah there, sweetheart,” a voice sounded from somewhere beside her before she felt arms snake around her waist. The person’s grip was warm and strong, and Y/N’s cheeks began to ache with how big her grin was. 

“Freddie!” she whisper-yelled, turning in his arms to face him, “I’m trying to get back to Ginny’s room!”

“I can see that, love,” he chuckled. 

The younger ones of the Weasley family had had just a little too much firewhiskey that night, celebrating the fact that all of them were officially Hogwarts graduates. Well, most of them, as the twins hadn’t technically graduated. 

“You’re so pretty Freddie,” she gasped, cupping his face into her hands, “Have I ever told you that? You’re so, so pretty.” 

Fred had a hard time not waking up the whole household with his laughs, “I haven’t heard that before, no. But thank you.” 

She swayed slightly on her feet, succumbing to the way the liquor pulsed through her veins. 

“Alright, let’s get you to sleep. Your head’s going to be pounding in the morning, and I’ll put some hangover potion by your bed.”

“You take such good care of me baby,” she mumbled, pressing a soft kiss on his neck as they slightly stumbled their way to the room. 

Y/N couldn’t even bear to think about what she would do if–when–he moved on. Her throat closed up at the thought of having to hear that he was seeing someone else. Taking in a shuddering breath, she closed her eyes and tried to remind herself that it wasn’t working out, they weren’t working out, and that was okay. 

Too lost in her thoughts, she nearly jumped at the sound of Fred flooing in. Her eyes darted to the clock and it read a quarter past five, right on time. 

“Hey,” he said softly, brushing off some of the soot that came with his mode of transportation. 

“Hey Freddie,” she smiled sadly at him.

The use of his nickname gave him pause, and as their eyes met, a sadness washed over the two of them. This was it. 

“I think we need to have a talk,” she said, swallowing dryly. 

“Right.” He nodded. 

For the first time in what seemed like ages, Y/N and Fred sat side by side on the couch, legs brushing against each other, hands clutched tightly together. They sat in silence for what seemed like hours, clinging onto what they knew was going to be their last few moments together. 

Seven years together was coming to an end. 

By the time Y/N garnered enough courage to look Fred in the eyes, she had tears pooling in her own. She could see the softness in his eyes that was reserved only for when he looked at her, but she could also see the hitches in his breath as he tried to reign in his emotions. 

“Freddie,” she whispered, her palm going up to gently cup his face. The gesture caused him to choke out a sob, a lone tear falling from his wet eyes. He placed his hand on top of hers, shutting his eyes for a brief moment before meeting hers. “Freddie you know we haven’t been okay for a long time.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Yeah I know, sweetheart.” 

Her heart lurched at the pet name, not having heard it for what seemed like an eternity. 

“I’m sorry that it has to end like this,” he whispered, “That I didn’t work harder or do something to fix it.” 

“It’s no one’s fault, Fred, and you know it. It’s just… time.” 

Her words were confident and sure, despite the fact that she could feel her heart crumbling as she spoke them. 

“I love you.” 

His words were whispered, as if he was sharing a secret with her. In that moment, he seemed so small, and Y/N almost took back everything she had said and thought about that afternoon. With a slight shake of her head, she tried to gain some of her composure. 

“I love you too.” 

“Hey,” he smiled sadly at her, squeezing her hand for the last time before letting go, “Don’t be a stranger, alright?” 

–

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[azurevi]

Can i have a scenario of Fluff 36 with Ace towards his crush

36. “Because I fell for you, isn’t it obvious?”  with Ace

this is kinda messy? and im aware that white day has already passed ;; but I had fun writing ace lol. hope you like it anon!

Ace finds it so frustrating.

"Thank you, Ace. These are beautiful," you smile, looking down at the bunch of flowers that Ace carefully picked. He asked everywhere for suggestions, seeing as he's never been good at romance. Riddle suggested something traditional like roses while Cater suggested something flashy. Jamil actually had some good idead but they just didn't catch his interest.

I'm only gifting them these flowers because they gave me handmade chocolate on Valentine's day, he tries to convince himself but to no avail. He knows better than anyone that he's going to give you something on White Day no matter what, one to show your gratitude, and two to see what your reaction would be.

To be frank Ace has been in love with you for quite a while now. It started as mindless, stolen glances and the tingling desire to catch your attention, and before he knows it the feeling has grown to become affection. It was hard for him to come to terms with these feelings in the beginning as he's notorious for having embarrassing dating history, but after time proves that it's not just a fleeting obsession he decides to just accept it.

If he's asked what it's about you that he likes, he can go on for days, though he won't act like a lovesick fool in front of anybody. Perhaps it's your easygoingneess, your incessant desire to help others, or your constant understanding. Ace can't pinpoint for sure what it is that made him fall for you. He just realizes how important you are to him one day as if struck by lightning.

Keeping these secrets to himself isn't anywhere near fun though. Ace desperately wants you to reciprocate his feelings and to be able to claim you as his lover, but he's nowhere near good with words. So without many choices he goes with flowers, although they're so cliche and overused. He hoped that you would pick up the hint (receiving flowers on White Day can't be anything simple, right?) and at least recognize him, but he seems to have forgotten how slow you can be.

"But you didn't have to go out of your ways to get me these, you know? I'm sure they're expensive," you say mindlessly. Somehow you completely miss the point and have considered it as platonic gratitude. Irritation boils in Ace's chest. It doesn't help that you look so graceful complimented by the flowers.

It's always been like this, with him dropping hints and you completely ignoring them. He's starting to think that you're doing it on purpose. Perhapd you know fully how he feels towards you and want to let him down, but Ace isn't going to settle with kind of explanation. He's going to hear it directly from you whether you like him or not, even if it means stepping out of his comfort zone.

"…Of course I had to," Ace crosses his arms. "Don't you know that it's White Day?"

"I know that it's a day when you show gratitude. Still, this is way too expensive,"

"The price isn't the main character here, I don't even mind spending that much on you. It's the message behind," Ace frowns, leaning toward you with sharp eyes as he waits for you to gasp in realization. The gasp never comes though. Instead you cock your head to the side and asks the most infuriating question he has ever heard.

"Why?"

"Why-" Ace sighs loudly. Sometimes it really confuses him why he's in love with you, but it's not like he had a say in this. It's hard to admit, but sometimes even your slowness makes his heart jump all over the place. "Can't you see the reason? Did you really not notice all the things I've been doing, all the times I was trying to tell you?"

His words only make you more puzzled. His shoulders slump in defeat. At this point he doesn't even care for embarrassment. He's just going to lay his feelings out here and let you decide its fate.

"Because I fell for you, isn’t it obvious?” 

For the longest time you are quiet, and Ace looke down on the ground in nervousness.

"You...fell for me?" slowly comes your voice, asking for confirmation.

"God, yes. I've been trying to show you for the past few weeks,"

"But why me?"

"What kind of ridiculous question is that?" Ace scratches his head, his face now impossibly red. "I don't have a specific reason. I just like you a lot, end of story. I didn't just buy the flowers to show gratitude. I was trying to tell you my feelings, but you just decided to make all my efforts go to waste,"

"Sorry about that," you laugh cheekily. Upon hearing your chuckle Ace looks up and finds a grin fighting for dominance on your lips. "I just...never really expected it,"

You don't look disgusted or anything hearing that. In fact you seem to be quite flustered. Feeling bold Ace moves into your space once again, this time more confident and sure. "Then will you go on a date with me?"

Smiling behind the charming flowers, you nod enthusiastically, and that's all it takes for butterflies to flutter in his stomach.