#though i will admit some of the assignments are stupid

[loserlvrss]

𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 under the 𝒷𝑒𝒹 ── ★ syn. and you were always scared of the dark, weren’t you? 💭 1372THOU of platonic hurt-comfort ( 🦷 ) cautions ,, some angst 𓂃. ⌗ bsf김운학 & 𝒻.reader

just a dead girl dreaming ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ my debut for my son

“I wonder if it’s still there,” 

You hummed aloud, taking in the small room that used to feel like a princess castle, or an ocean, or a vast and dense forest. Whatever your mind wanted it to be, if you just threw around some blankets and stuffed animals, you were transported to it. 

Like real magic. 

And sometimes you miss that. Especially between the research assignments and ten page double-spaced papers you found yourself drowning in during the first couple years of university; Where nothing felt magical anymore. 

You watched as your best friend got down on his hands and knees in front of your pink, twin-sized bed that you used to share during countless sleepovers—when your moms were too drunk or too happy to leave. Of course, it was the same situation if you’d go over to Woonhak’s house, but most of the time, they’d have girls night at yours while you two were growing up. 

Not that you’d ever complain, because you got to see him either way. 

But he did have a pool. 

However, now you barely saw him (or their pool), only through a dreaded screen, where you felt the time slipping away from you. Reality sinking its sharp claws into you, ready to tear you apart piece by piece until not even Woonhak could put you back together. Pulling you into the darkest and deepest caverns, where not even his stupid smile that would cover his entire face or deafening giggles could reach you. 

You shivered at the thoughts, pushing them aside.

Woonhak ended up getting caught—for only a moment—against the edge, a pain-filled groan leaving his general area. 

You laughed as said man got further onto his stomach, sucking-in as much as he could, and pulled himself under the wooden framework. 

“What are you doing, Hak?” 

His legs were the only thing visible when he maneuvered to be on his back. 

“This was easier when I was smaller,” He admitted, though slightly muffled. “Oh! Look! It’s still here!” 

“What’s still there?” Though feigning curiosity, you really didn’t want to get dusty (or on the floor for that matter) under your bed. 

Even though you couldn’t see his face, you could audibly hear the eye roll through his words. “Well, I told you to come look because I wanted you under here with me, idiot. For studying microgravity, you’re awfully stupid. Can’t even take a hint.” He was teasing you, as he always did while growing up, and you wondered how he could so easily fall back into a habit—one you wish you could join him in being consumed by. If only for a little while. 

“C’mon!” He whined out at you, kicking his feet impatiently. 

But the pictures on the wall mocked you; Ones of you and Woonhak piled on a single swing seat together or a tiny, plastic sled moments before hitting a bump and flying off it. Or maybe it was the photobooth strips where you’d bought alien hats and did silly faces. Or the trophies and medals you hung so proudly, the ones he’d insist you kept from his soccer days. Or maybe it was the posters of aged boy bands and books that no longer flew off the shelves that casted you in a dull, melancholic glow. 

Nonetheless, even if all that were true, the real mockery was what was under your bed. And you knew it was there—though playing dumb at the moment to get him to give up and come out—haunting you like a bunch of ghosts from a story that would’ve scared you ten years ago. 

Then, you gave in, getting down and using his leg (forcefully, as a sort of pay-back) as leverage in your descent. He protested painfully.

“For your information, genius, I don’t study microgravity, I study astrophysics.” 

He scoffed. “Whatever you say, ass-scientist.” 

You pushed right up against him—though you wish it was your fist punching his arm for that joke instead—getting onto your back after you crawled under the frame. 

“See,” 

It took a second for your eyes to adjust, but then you saw what he was pointing at. 

The first letters of your names jumbled together on a long slab of wood. Next to various (badly) drawn drawings of unicorns and dragons and dinosaurs in a purple ocean. You’d even gone as far as sticking glow in the dark stars under the bed, though not very bright because they never got a chance to charge themselves. 

But when you were scared of the dark, scared of the monsters you were sure lived under the bed, Woonhak begged his mom to come over every night so he could protect you—and when she said no he got the brilliant idea of making it not-so scary anymore. 

Now you know the monsters never lived under your bed. 

And his plan worked because you’d play under the bed on your backs, just as you were now, little arms able to stretch farther as figurines danced across the colors and laughter filled the space. 

You never thanked him for doing that. 

“Are you crying?” 

Your hands shot to your face as best they could, dabbing away the tears. He’d seen you a wreck before, lots of times actually, because he’d always be the one to pull your seams tight again. He’d always be the one to tell you it was all going to be okay, and when you’d protest, he’d also be the one to argue non-stop until you forgot every reason you were sad. 

You never thanked him for doing that either. 

“I’m tired,” You stated, voice low and, honestly, defeated. You didn’t know becoming an adult would be so hard. Especially, because that’s all you wanted to be when you weren’t one. 

It hadn’t even felt that long and you were already in your second year of university. Frankly, it was paralyzing you in a constant loop of complacency, of emotional-vacancy. 

You hated how out of control you felt. How stupid and pointless everything seemed nowadays. You just wanted a sliver of your old life back; A version of yourself four years ago, a junior in high school, teaching your sophomore-year best friend how to drive your own car, giggling when he’d hit the brakes too hard in an empty parking lot. Or two years ago, clapping as Woonhak graduated with the biggest smile on his face, you were sure you could see every tooth he had in his mouth. When he told you he’d be attending the same university and that you could see him all the time that way.

you always wanted what you couldn't have.  

But, still, it was always, I’m too busy, or, I’ve got a lot of homework to finish, sorry. You never saw him, even though he was at a fingertips reach. 

You couldn’t even blame him. You felt the same, if not worse. So, when the excuse of a birthday party for your mom came up, you were hesitant to invite the one person who crossed your mind. 

And for that, you felt the worst about. 

“I’m really tired of feeling like this, Hak.” The tears welled at your confession, voice breaking. But he just listened to your troubles like they were his to begin with. “I just miss being with you every day at school. I miss when homework was pointless, but we still did it together because we were so damn competitive. I miss having lunch with you. I miss watching your soccer games. I miss playing with dolls. I miss drawing dumb pictures that make no logical sense. I miss the magic it all held, all the memories that invade my mind. I miss it all. I miss… me.”  

“I’m so—“

“But thank you,” You interrupted his polite apology, one he didn’t owe you. “For always being the best thing on my mind. Reminding me of a time I can’t go back to, but cherish so bittersweetly.” You grabbed his hand through the dark, flashing back to the first time he got you to join him under the terrifying veil of darkness. “Just don’t leave me, okay?” 

“Why would I ever do that?” 

Because, at the end of the day, what were best friends for? 

@kstrucknet @kfilms @onedoornet @blossomnet @starlit-network @riqomi @bbangbies @minkilicious @slytherinshua @gluion @hollyoongs @sunnyhaki @atzlordz @nctrawberries @yuyumaz3 @desssss-0 @yujiswave ────𝓁𝑜𝓈𝑒𝓇𝓁𝓋𝓇𝓈𝓈 2025 ꫂ❁ reblogs & feedback appreciated.

[helaintoloki]

Hey there! I’ve got a little request for you.

What about a fic where the reader has to go back in time to the 40s (perhaps for an infinity stone? Work it however you want). It’s supposed to be a quick mission. Until they run into a young Bucky.

a/n: hi anon! i hope you don’t mind but i made some tweaks to the request to fit the story i came up with. however, the original idea of reader going to the 40s is still there!

warnings/notes: angst, fluff, sort of an enemies to lovers piece

summary: after accidentally sending yourself back in time, you run into a younger version of the man you loathe only to find yourself questioning your feelings for him

“You’re such a jerk!”

“Oh, so saving your ass makes me a jerk now?” Bucky retorts in annoyed disbelief at your insult. The two of you haven’t exactly been getting along as of late, so it wasn’t a surprise to either of you that your first assignment together was proving to be disastrous.

“Saving me?” You repeat incredulously, halting in your steps to whirl around and angrily point a finger against his chest. The firmness of his muscles has you faltering for a split second, but you’re adamant not to let your stupid little school girl crush on the man stop you from tearing into him.

Sometimes you’re not even sure why you have feelings for someone who constantly pushes your buttons and tests your patience, but it’s hard not to fall for his good looks and charm, especially during the rare moments of pleasantness you experience when he’s not getting on your nerves. You and Bucky rarely see eye-to-eye, and though for the most part you can tolerate each other, your camaraderie doesn’t last long.

“Shoving me out of the way when I had a clear shot isn’t saving me! I had it covered before you decided to play hero and treat me like some damsel in distress!”

“You had a clear shot and so did the sniper sitting on that rooftop,” Bucky points out with an irritated tick of his jaw. “You couldn’t have gotten the hit with a bullet hole in your head.”

You falter momentarily at being presented with your error, face beginning to heat with embarrassment at being in the wrong. However, your stubborn nature takes over and causes you to double down on your anger instead of admitting fault.

“I don’t need your help. In fact, because of your little stunt my inhibitor is broken,” you state indignantly while lifting your wrist to show the damaged metal band, “so now I have no way to safely get us home.”

Bucky blanches at the realization, and now it’s his turn to feel hot with embarrassment and guilt for his mistake. You’re one of the enhanced members on the team, an Avenger with the power to teleport not only from place to place but also through time, but your ability isn’t always the most reliable. It can be unstable when used too often or without proper concentration, which is why Tony had crafted your inhibitor bracelet to ensure you didn’t accidentally teleport yourself or your teammates to the middle of nowhere. You didn’t trust yourself to make the jump back to the compound without it, and now the two of you were stranded.

He curses under his breath and runs an anxious hand through his hair before saying, “We’ll have to call for someone to come get us.”

“No shit,” you retort only to earn an eye roll from him in response. “But that’s going to take hours, and if we stay here we’re dead.”

“Look,” Bucky sighs depreciatively, “we need to figure this out together, so I’d appreciate a little less sarcasm and a little more-“

The sound of gunfire interrupts Bucky’s rant and sends you both ducking for cover. Your arguing had allowed enough time for the enemy to counterattack with an ambush, and now you were cornered with nowhere to go. You find yourself pressed against a metal crate, making yourself as small as possible while trying to form some sort of an exit plan. Your attackers were closing in, and you felt the anxiety beginning to rise in your chest at the fact that you had nowhere left to run.

Bucky calls your name frantically, breaking you out of your panicked daze quickly enough for you to register the woman approaching you with her gun raised. Your eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights, and when she pulls the trigger you feel your powers activate on instinct as you’re teleported out of the line of fire.

You land on the ground with a groan.

Tingles run down your body from the use of your powers, and it takes you a moment to adjust to the new surroundings you find yourself in. The packing warehouse you’d been dodging gunfire fire in is long gone, and instead you find yourself in an alleyway nestled between two apartment buildings. Your mind is frantic as you try to scramble back up onto your feet only to crumple down in pain from your fall. You think you’ve twisted your ankle, and you don’t know where you are or how to get back home.

You attempt to use your powers to jump back to the warehouse to help Bucky, but without the inhibitor bracelet your teleportation has become shoddy. You let your head fall back with a frustrated groan at being completely helpless and try to clear your mind to figure out your next move.

“Excuse me,” an oddly familiar voice calls from the other end of the alleyway, “are you alright, miss?”

You lift your head at the sound of approaching footsteps and are met with a set of kind blue eyes that have your breath catching in your throat. His face is so much younger and full of life, not yet tainted by the trauma he’d endured after the events of the war. He’s beautiful, and you find your heart nearly leaping out of your chest when he makes his way towards you. He reaches out to you with his left hand, and you stare down with uncertainty at the warm flesh that replaces metal.

You’d accidentally sent yourself back in time, and now you found yourself face to face with a Bucky who had yet to become the Winter Soldier.

“I… I’m fine,” you finally manage to get out after willing away your initial shock. You hesitantly accept his hand and are unnerved by the unusual warmth his palm emits against your own. He helps you back onto your feet only for you to stumble as a result of your bad ankle. His strong arms catch you in an instant, holding you upright while you brace yourself against his firm chest.

“Looks like you had quite the fall,” Bucky says with a lighthearted smile while meeting your gaze. You see something shift in his features when he looks into your eyes, an awestruck sense of admiration washing over him as he takes in your disheveled appearance. You begin to fear that he has you figured out, that somehow he knows who you are and that you don’t belong, but instead he merely wipes away a smudge of dirt from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“You’re a knockout,” he compliments before letting out a sheepish laugh at his own boldness. Your stomach flips at his confession, and you have to stop and remind yourself that this is a completely different Bucky from the one you know. The Bucky you have back at home would sooner call you a pain in his ass than ever call you beautiful.

“Thank you,” you breathe out nervously, flashing him a meek smile while subtly trying to free yourself from his hold. You have no idea what repercussions will come from you interacting with him, and you still need to figure out a way to get back to your own time now that it’s been made clear you sent yourself to the past. You attempt to walk only to wince again at the ache in your leg, something Bucky notices immediately.

“You’re hurt. Let me take you home with me, my Ma can fix you right up and get you something to eat,” he offers only for you to quickly shake your head.

“I couldn’t impose. I’ll be fine, really,” you try to assure him, but your obvious discomfort isn’t very convincing.

“Nonsense. What kind of a man would I be if I left you here in this dingy alleyway to fend for yourself? My mother raised me better than that.”

You can’t help the soft smile that forms on your lips at his kindness. Steve had often mentioned how charming Bucky was in his younger days, how he had swept countless girls off their feet with his chivalrous nature and good looks. Bucky would always grumble about his friend’s need to exaggerate on the details of the past, but you were now seeing firsthand the truth to the Captain’s stories.

You know you shouldn’t, but you can’t stop yourself from finally relenting to Bucky’s request. How can you deny him when he flashes you such an endearing grin and looks upon you with eyes full of tenderness? You expect him to take your hand or give you his arm to steady yourself for the walk home, but he instead surprises you by literally sweeping you off of your feet and carrying you in his arms. You gasp, fingers anxiously clutching at the fabric of his dress shirt while you look to him with wide eyes; his strength is unwavering, and his lips sport a proud grin as he whisks you away to his apartment.

“Don’t worry, honey. I’ve got you.”

Your inner turmoil is almost unbearable as you struggle to comprehend the sweetness of this Bucky in comparison to the brooding nature of your own Bucky. You’re not used to such acts of chivalry or flirtatious remarks, and it certainly doesn’t help alleviate the crush you harbor on your teammate. If anything, you’re even more confused now than you’ve ever been when it comes to your feelings for the Winter Soldier. You’re adamant about not falling into the fantasy, about staying focused on the task at hand, but it’s hard to do so when Bucky is so obviously sweet on you.

“I’ve just realized I don’t know your name,” he notes thoughtfully. “Most guys usually know the name of the girl they plan to bring home to their mother.”

“Y/n,” you reply gently despite the heat that spreads across your face at his jest, not even sure if giving your real name is the right move.

“Y/n,” he repeats sweetly, devoid of the usual tone of annoyance or irritation you’re used to. “I think that suits a pretty girl like you. My name is James, but most people just call me Bucky.”

“I like James,” you admit truthfully while avoiding his burning gaze. “I think it suits a gentleman like you.”

“A gentleman, huh? Mom will proud to hear that.”

You find yourself subtly sneaking a glance at his face while he speaks, unable to resist drinking in the details of a younger, innocent Bucky who has yet to endure the horrors his future has in store for him. He exuded confidence and light, and you could see why girls would throw themselves at his feet just to see his smile. This Bucky was full of hope, and your chest ached at having to keep what you knew about him hidden. You couldn’t risk stirring up trouble in the past by telling him what would take place after being shipped off to England and meddling with a future that had already been set in stone, and you knew he might not even believe you anyway. You had no choice but to keep your mouth shut and maintain your composure until you managed to get back to the present.

You eventually make it to his apartment and find your stomach twisting with nerves as Bucky carefully sets you down so he can unlock the door. You’re not sure how you’re going to handle meeting his mother or setting foot into his childhood home, and the entire situation feels much too intimate for you to bear. You’re an intruder in his life, the one he kept close to his chest away from everyone but Steve, and you wonder how much he’ll hate you for this when you finally get back.

“Let’s get you inside,” James urges, gently guiding you through the doorway while being mindful of your bad leg. He lets you hold onto his arm while escorting you towards the couch. The living room is quaintly decorated with photos and antique furniture, and the floral patterned wallpaper reminds you of the one your grandmother had kept in her home. The smell of a freshly cooked meal wafts through the apartment, and from the distance you can hear the quiet crackle of the kitchen radio playing a tune.

“Wait right here,” he says with a wink before disappearing down the hallway and leaving you to your own devices. You debate making your escape while he’s gone in order to avoid delving deeper into Bucky’s past life, but you know you won’t get far with a twisted ankle. Instead, you choose to quickly comb your fingers through your hair and dust yourself off to make yourself somewhat presentable in the presence of his mother.

“I’m telling you, Ma,” Bucky’s voice echoes through the hallway as he makes his return to the living room, “she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

You shift uncomfortably in your seat at his flattery and try to appear as inconspicuous as possible despite your nerves. You can’t help but wonder how you’re supposed to go back to normal after all of this is over, and a part of you is starting to dread returning home.

Bucky walks into the room with an older woman on his arm. She has beautifully curled hair that’s been pinned back neatly to frame her weathered face. Despite the wrinkles under her eyes, they are bright with joy when she gazes upon her son, and her ruby red smile flashes pearly whites your way when she finally rests her attention on your awkward form.

“Mom, this is y/n,” Bucky introduces proudly, “I promised her you could fix her right up.”

“Oh, you poor dear,” his mother croons as she seats herself beside you. “James told me all about your nasty fall, but I don’t want you to worry. You’re in good hands here with me.”

“Thank you so much for your hospitality, Miss,” you express earnestly as you look into her striking blue eyes she shares with her son. “I promise I won’t be in your way long.”

“Nonsense,” she dismisses you with a wave of her hand. “Any friend of my James is welcome in this home. And please, call me Winnifred.”

“Thank you, Winnifred,” you repeat with a grateful smile, the woman’s kindness having alleviated some of your stress. You watch as she begins to scan over your features for any other possible injuries while taking in your disheveled form; her brows furrow slightly when she takes note of your attire.

“What peculiar clothing,” she murmurs while running her fingers along the rip in your tactical suit. You blanch slightly at the realization that you aren’t exactly dressed for the time period you’re in and scramble to come up with a lie.

“It’s my factory uniform,” you quickly fib, grateful for the fact you’d paid attention in your high school history class. “I make munitions for our boys overseas.”

“I love a woman in uniform,” Bucky notes with an innocent smile despite the flirtatious tone of his words.

“How admirable of you! But surely it must not be very comfortable. Why don’t you get cleaned up and changed out of that uniform before I wrap your ankle? I’ll find you something else to wear.”

“I’ll show you to the bathroom,” Bucky offers before assisting you back onto your feet. You wrap an arm around his midsection to keep yourself propped upright while lamely limping down the hallway with his help. “Mom really seemed to like you, not that I’m surprised.”

“I can see where you get your charm,” you tease gently, almost melting at the boyish grin that forms on his lips in response. Would it be wrong of you to wish you could have such an easy rapport with your own Bucky as you do with this one?

You make it to bathroom where James shows you how to work the shower before giving you your privacy. The water pressure isn’t as strong as what you’re used to back at the compound, but it does the job. You’re grateful to finally scrub off the grime and dried blood that had accumulated from the mission, and you feel like you’re in a much clearer headspace now to start planning your next move.

A simple dress is laid out on the dresser for you when you finish your shower, and once you’re decent Winnifred sits you down and wraps your ankle. She insists you keep off your foot and rest for the remainder of the evening in her daughter’s bed seeing as she’s off at a sleepover. You know better than to object to the woman’s demands, and so you find yourself seated on the cushiony mattress with a dinner tray on your lap. You’re absolutely starving, and you’re grateful to finally have the chance to eat considering you need your strength in order to attempt teleporting without the help of your inhibitor.

A gentle knock on the doorway interrupts your ruminative dinner, and you watch curiously as Bucky slowly peeks his head into the door.

“Mind if I keep you company?”

“Of course not,” you hum gently, heart thrumming in your chest when he seats himself on the edge of the bed beside you. The scent of his cologne mixed with his natural musk drowns your senses, causing a longing ache to settle in the pit of your stomach as you’re reminded of the fact that you must leave him behind when this is all over.

“How’s the ankle?”

“Your mom says the swelling should go down in a day or two as long as I keep off of it.”

“Does that mean you’ll be sticking around here a bit longer?” Bucky asks with a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. You smile faintly, but it isn’t very convincing.

“I can’t,” you relent gently, guilt consuming your entire being at the way his features falter in result. “I have to get back home.”

“You have someone waiting for you?” He prompts softly, absently fidgeting with a loose thread from the comforter.

“I do,” you confess quietly. You watch his gaze drop down to hide his disappointment, head shaking slightly as he lets out a soft chuckle.

“I should have known a girl like you would already be spoken for. Is he handsome?”

“Very,” you nod sheepishly, your face growing hot at having to confess such thoughts to the younger version of the man you picture in your head. “His eyes are blue like yours, but his hair’s a bit longer. He doesn’t smile much, but when he does it lights up an entire room.”

“Does he treat you the way you deserve?”

“He can be cold and closed off at times, but I know deep down he cares. He just isn’t very good at showing it, and I certainly don’t make it easy for him. I can be a handful, and we fight a lot, but I think I love him anyway.”

Sighing, Bucky runs his fingers through his perfectly combed hair before meeting your gaze. You watch as he reaches out to gently take hold of your hand in his left one. You can’t remove your eyes from the flesh no matter how hard you try, and you don’t think you’ll ever get over the feeling of being able to touch the arm that has yet to be tainted by Hydra’s touch. You almost want to tell him, but you’re able to bite your tongue.

“There isn’t anything I can do to change your mind?” He asks while giving your hand a gentle squeeze. His eyes are full of hope and admiration for the woman that had spontaneously fallen into his life, and though he’d only known you for a short period of time he knew that something about you was special. You were unlike any woman he’d ever met, and he wanted to spend the rest of his life getting to know you.

“I don’t think so, James,” you comfort softly. You feel so bold as to rest a hand gently upon his cheek, and you’re rewarded by the feeling of him leaning into your touch as he melts into your palm. “You’re a wonderful man, and I have a feeling this won’t be the last time our paths cross.”

Smiling faintly, Bucky cheekily turns his head to press a chaste kiss to your palm. Your breath catches in your throat at the act while your stomach flutters with nervous butterflies, but you don’t make a move to pull your hand away.

“I’ll hold you to that, sweetheart. I’d be a fool to let a girl like you out of my life,” he says with a wink before reluctantly beginning to pull away from you. Before you can stop yourself or think it through, you frantically shoot your hand out to keep him in place.

“Wait!” You exclaim desperately, catching both Bucky and yourself off guard. You know better than to bring the future to the past, and you know in the end that altering the course of his life won’t change the events of your present time, but you owe it to the man who had shown you such kindness to warn him about his fate.

“What is it, y/n?”

“I…,” you begin to say, faltering as you struggle to get the words out. He looks to you patiently for you to finish your sentence, and despite the guilt that consumes you for changing your mind, you continue, “I want you to promise me you’ll be careful in the future. I couldn’t stand anything happening to you, and I just want you to be safe.”

“Oh,” Bucky breathes as if he hadn’t been expecting such a serious profession. After processing your words, the man simply gives you an affirming nod and replies, “of course I will, doll. Anything you ask.”

The turmoil within you at keeping the truth to yourself persists, but you’re unable to say nothing more as Bucky rises from his seat on the bed and takes your empty tray from your lap. “I’ll get this out of your way.”

He leans down to press a tender kiss to your forehead before excusing himself from the room, shutting the door behind him to give you your privacy. You let out a shaky breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding and blink back the tears that threaten to spill. You cherish the time you’ve spent with him here in his own time, but you also miss the Bucky you have back at home. You’ve never hated him, you just never understood him or the walls he insisted putting between you, but you can see now just how much Hydra had taken from him. He hadn’t always been the grumpy soldier you knew him as, and your stubborn nature certainly didn’t help him come out of his shell.

You needed to make things right, not only with the Bucky from your timeline but also with the one who had just spent his entire day looking after a complete stranger.

Despite the painful throbbing of your ankle, you will yourself out of bed and desperately rush towards the door. You know that exposing his true fate will not alter the course of your timeline, but perhaps there’s a possibility it can give him the chance to create a new timeline where he never gets the chance to become the Winter Soldier.

“Bucky!” You call out in hopes he’ll come rushing back down the hall. You’re so desperate to reach him that you don’t notice the soft glow of your inhibitor bracelet, and your frantic state of mind creates a lack of control over your teleportation ability.

You reach the doorknob just as your powers activate, and when you step through the doorway you are no longer in the apartment of James Barnes but instead in your own bedroom back at the compound.

You stagger forward in a daze, mind reeling from the use of your powers as you struggle to adjust to your new surroundings. Your heart drops to your chest when you finally come to the realization that you’re back where you belong, and you slowly sink down to your knees in tears over the fact that you’d been too late. Bucky would return to an empty bedroom, and he would go on to live the life that fate had chosen for him.

You couldn’t protect him- you’d failed.

You begin to sob as the amalgamation of emotions from your experience overtakes you, and you’re so consumed in your grief that you fail to hear the sound of your door sliding open behind you.

“Y/n? It’s been three days, where the hell have you been?” A startled voice sounds, causing you to jump in surprise. You turn to find Bucky standing in your doorway, his irritated features morphing into confusion at the sight of your distraught state. Tears steadily stream down your cheeks in time with the trembling of your shoulders, and he slowly makes his approach towards your figure on the floor. “Y/n?”

Bucky cautiously sinks to his knees beside you and places a careful hand on your back. The coolness of his metal arm has you shivering, a stark contract to the warmth you’d felt when he’d held your hand in his Brooklyn apartment. “Are you alright? What happened?”

You don’t think before throwing yourself into his arms and holding tightly onto his frame. Bucky nearly topples over from the impact but is quick to regain his balance so he can hold you both upright. Initially he isn’t sure how to react considering this is the first time you’ve ever willingly gotten this close to him let alone hugged him, but he’s eventually able to reciprocate the act by wrapping his arms around your trembling figure and holding you close to his chest.

“I’m sorry,” you sob, fingers tightly clutching at the fabric of his shirt in an attempt to ground yourself. “I’m sorry for always giving you such a hard time, for being so stubborn. You don’t deserve that, and I should have tried to be a better teammate.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Bucky shushes gently, his tone unusually gentle as he carefully pulls away to look you in the face. “I know I’m not exactly the most pleasant person to be around sometimes, and I haven’t always been the nicest to you either. I’m sorry for that.”

“You mean you’re not going to yell at me for disappearing on you? You don’t hate me?” You snivel, prompting his lips to quirk up into a rare smile.

“I’m not going to yell at you for something you can’t control. And I never hated you. I just… never really knew how to be around you. Steve always speaks so highly of you, you’re everyone’s favorite, and I never felt like I had the right to know you so intimately the way they do. I figured keeping my distance would be easier, and I thought you preferred it that way considering our track record.”

“I don’t want you to keep your distance anymore,” you plead softly. “I want to be around you, I want you to feel comfortable around me.”

“That can be arranged,” Bucky notes with a faint smile while carefully brushing away the last of your tears, “but can I ask you what brought this on?”

“It’s a long story,” you admit while guiltily avoiding eye contact with the man. You’re not sure if you should tell him the truth about your venture just yet, but you don’t have it in you to lie to him. You know you’ll have to tell him one day, but for now it can wait. “Being gone these past few days just gave me time to get a new perspective on things.”

“Well, whatever happened, I’m glad it did,” he says truthfully. “Now let’s get you cleaned up so you can let the rest of the team know you made it back safe.”

You allow him to help you up off the ground just as he had in that alleyway, and when he looks down at you with his soft blue eyes you’re able to see his younger self once more. The charming, chivalrous James Barnes who had taken such good care of you still existed within Bucky, it would just take time for him to come out of his shell and open himself up to you the way his past self had done so.

And you would wait all the time in the world for him.

[thegoldencontracts]

Aishiteru—I Love You

—♡ Whispered confessions of love in a language you really should have realized the both of you could understand.

—Characters: Leona, Ruggie

—Warnings: Reader is a bit dense, in case that's not your thing

—Notes: So, uh, I really did mean it when I said I'm back on my bullshit ww (in the voice of someone who surprised even herself); Anyways TIL male lions roar before mating ahahah guess which section that's gonna come up in (difficulty impossible)

Leona Kingscholar

It was very, very stupid to love someone who would so obviously never love you back. A prince of majesty untold with the bright, sharp green eyes of a predator and beauty that watched both his brains and brawn.

But you loved him. Maybe not. Maybe it was just infatuation, a mix of chemicals influenced by hormones bound not to last, but you didn't care.

And he... he tolerated you. The lion was a difficult one to get a read on, apathy masking all the depths of his emotion.

He thought you were scrawny, you knew that much, for he always shoved a packet of snacks into your hands when you spoke, claiming you "needed to get some meat on your bones".

He thought you were troublesome, as he said repeatedly when he helped you with those stupidly difficult homework assignments. There was a magic he seemed to work into his every word, one that made seemingly mind-numbingly complex concepts become clear as day.

And his henchman thought you were stupid.

"Seriously, Kantokusei-kun, you're denser than a pile of rocks..." The hyena beastman had muttered as you accompanied him to Leona's resting spot. "I'll leave you two to do your thing."

Leona was there, tail flicking lazily and hair perfectly disheveled.

"Herbivore," he said, adjusting his mane. He wasn't asleep for once. In fact, he had no hesitation as he stood, pawing at your shoulder. "You're late."

Huh?

"Late?" you asked. "To what?"

"We always meet around now," said Leona simply.

...Did you? Was it, like, something he kept track of?

Leona roared lowly. Was he angry or something?

"Did I do something wrong?" But he just laughed.

"Don't play coy with me, herbivore," he said. "I think both of our intentions are clear by now."

Was he trying to pick a fight with you? Oh, god, you were not surviving this unscathed. But- But you hadn't even said you loved him! You couldn't die without getting this off of your chest?

But you also couldn't put your feelings out there in the open to be so easily rejected...

You had a solution. Just pick a different language, easy as that!

"Ti amo," you said. If you died staring at his beautiful face you would die happy.

But again, Leona just smirked.

"Took you long enough," he said. "I was startin' to think you were just playing around."

Right. He must've thought you were insulting him! After all, he probably wanted to fight, right?

"It's, uh, not an insult," you admitted. Silence.

"...I know."

What.

"What do you mean, 'you know'? It could very well be one!"

Leona, for once, seemed visibly incredulous.

"Do you need to go to the hospital or something? Get your head checked?" He looked over you scrutinizingly. "Your vitals are alright. What's goin' on?"

"Well-"

"Are you tryin' to say you have bad taste or something?" he said, letting out a self-deprecating chuckle. "Guess you'd be right about that."

"I mean, you don't know what I said! How do you know it's not an insult?"

...

Leona's eyes narrowed.

"Do you think," he said. "That a prince like me doesn't know a basic phrase like that?"

Leona was royalty. Right. Royalty. Who usually had to learn countless languages for diplomacy purposes.

Holy shit, you were stupid. And screwed. Very screwed.

"Thickheaded and a coward," he huffed, though his voice softened. "Got no clue why I like you."

Wait. He liked you?

"Why do you look so surprised?" Leona said. "Thought I made it obvious."

He really didn't. Then again, maybe you weren't the best person to decide what was and wasn't obvious, considering you couldn't figure out that a prince would understand a well-known Italian phrase.

"Well, um." you said. "I love you too!"

For a split second, you could've sworn you saw his cheeks flush darker, before he nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "I figured. Now c'mere."

Without letting you protest—not that you would've—he pulled you onto the bed with him.

"After dealin' with your thick head, I definitely deserve a nap."

But even someone like you could notice his tail was gently wagging.

Ruggie Bucchi:

You loved Ruggie Bucchi.

You loved his smile, his greyish-blue eyes, that dirty blonde hair of his that was just so easy to ruffle. You loved the way he would beam whenever he managed to score easy money or food, the way he endured everything life threw at him with a smile.

And there was his odd brand of kindness. He gave you bits of food he scored when he could, always insisting it was just "to make sure you'd owe him later"—but the time where he collected his debt never came. Every chance he could, he brought back food to share with the children back home. Your subconscious took note of each and every instance, whether you wanted it to or not. And each time, it seemed as if this bottomless pit of romantic pining somehow managed to get even deeper. Perhaps that was an oxymoron. Oh, well.

You doubted he loved you back, though. His gifts were friendly, and as was his smile. Nothing more. Those flushed glances you noticed were mere figments of the imagination. Ruggie Bucchi was a pragmatic individual who most certainly did not care for your affections.

So you kept them hidden. You tried, really, you tried. But the thing about romantic feelings was that they were impossible to keep suppressed.

The scene was a stereotypical sort; the two of you beneath a tree, splitting a sandwich. A light breeze.

This was where all the confessions happened, you thought. You sternly reminded yourself to act normal.

"Shishishi, this is good! Where'dja get it from?" He asked.

I love you so much, you wanted to reply. But you held your tongue. Act normal, you reminded yourself.

"I-I made it myself," you said. He beamed, little canines and agh hewassocute-

Damnit. You really couldn't take this anymore. But you couldn't bear to say those three words aloud either.

But what if there was a compromise?

Something other than English. A language he couldn't speak.

"Wǒ ài nǐ," you muttered. I love you, in Mandarin hinese. You'd heard it in a song once. Admittedly, it was a bit intense of a phrase, but still. It wasn't like he'd understand, anyways.

Ruggie stiffened, eyes going wide as saucers.

"What did you say, Kantokusei-kun?"

"Wǒ ài nǐ," you repeated, because it you still weren't satisfied with saying it once. "Just something in another language. You wouldn't understand."

You didn't mention Mandarin, in case he tried to translate.

"Uh-huh," said Ruggie, looking pointedly away form you.

Wait. Did he... think you'd insulted him?

"It wasn't anything mean, I-"

"I know."

His voice was still curt and clipped, red creeping up his cheeks.

"So," Ruggie said. "Do you know what that means?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

Ruggie cut you off with a flick of the wrist, before looking down, quiet as a mouse. After a few seconds, he spoke, slowly.

"Kantokusei-kun," he started. "Did you know," he cut himself off with a nervous shishi. "-That I can speak ten languages?"

"You can?" It was odd how Ruggie wasn't immediately taking the chance to brag about it, honestly. Or mention the skill's use in soliciting job opportunities.

"One of them is Mandarin," he said.

Oh.

Welp, you had a nice run. It was time to dig yourself into the nearest hole!

"Welp," Ruggie said, red-faced and apparently having had his fill of earnest conversation for the day. "That was awkward. Seeya! Don't be so tasteless with your jokes next time, okay?"

"It wasn't a-"

"Seeya!"

You sighed. Seriously? He thought you said it as a joke?

Maybe he was just uncomfortable and wanted to play it off. Yeah, probably that.

But the next day, you noticed the sandwich he brought you as 'payback' was shaped like a heart.

[sugarlywhispers]

b.katsuki x reader (fem) | quirkless!reader, prohero!dynamight, arranged marriage au.

a.n; remember when i said that this serie will not have a specific chronology? okay, this is it. i actually imagined this part being a bit further into their relationship. they are not fully in love -or at least haven't admitted their feelings for each other yet lol-, but they are getting close. remember that😉 SOMEONE SAID ANGST????? YAAAAS, HERE IT IS. MWUAH😘

Fuckin' Marry Me Series | First Part | Second Part | Third Part |

It’s chaos.

All your co-workers are loudly directing each of their assigned heroes as best as they can, but the amount of destruction around complicates each possible view all of you as Quirk & Training Specialists could have.

You run towards your desk, where your computer and monitors are already turned on. You put on the earbuds, connecting yourself to the system. Because of your expertise, you are allowed to hear everyone’s communications, so you use that to understand what is going on around there.

“...Red Riot, watch out from your left. The villain has a second weapon…”

“...Ingenium, if you change your direction to your right, you’ll find-…”

“...Uravity, try lifting them towards the building in front, the ground looks better…”

“...DEKU, YOUR RIGHT IS CLEAR!…”

“...SHOTO, WATCH FOR THE CEILING!!...”

“...DYNAMIGHT, TO YOUR RIGHT!...”

Bingo.

It does not surprise you at all that those three are at the center of it all, fighting the main, strongest villains, but it still makes you take a deep, relieved breath when you hear Bakugou swear very loudly, “you piece of shit villain!”.

He’s okay.

You then focus on finding the connection to your assigned hero.

“Earphone Jack, I’m with you today,” you say immediately as Jirou connects back to you.

“Oh, Y/N, thank God!” She exclaims, “This is a fucking nightmare! I need a way towards–…”

Jirou explains quickly what is happening to you. Apparently, a group of villains had created some sort of machine that was creating havoc, and the sole intention was to damage the infrastructure within a 10 km radius. No apparent deeper reason behind it, which is very suspicious in your opinion. Every villain has a reason behind their actions. But that’s a matter for another moment. You focus now on helping her all the way into the building, hiding and evading every possible encounter with villains, where the main thing is happening.

You feel your shoulders tensing each moment you tell Jirou to hide due to some possible threat coming her way. This kind of job is definitely not for the weak hearts. For some reason you are extremely good at it, quick thinking and fast to react at anything, that’s why in situations like this one you are assigned to any hero who was considered key to finally win. Jirou apparently is the one today. The Big Three are currently distracting all the heavy and strong villains, opening a way for her to disable the machine, and Jirou with her hacking knowledge is perfect for the job.

You can feel some of your co-workers paying attention to you and Earphone Jack at times, adding a bit of pressure on your shoulders. You and her work wonderfully together, and she is always open to your suggestions –sometimes even putting to test some moves you advise and create personally for her and her quirk, even though that is not really part of your job. But you love it completely when one of those actually works and end up being the best move.

“Alright, I’m in,” Jirou whispers and everyone around is listening and watching you cheer loudly. You release a deep and long breath that you didn’t realize you were holding back this entire time.

It takes three minutes for Jirou to turn off the machine and send it into autodestruction.

But in three stupid minutes, a lot happens.

Another building collapses, creating more chaos around. The sound of the explosion is so strong you can even feel the building of the company tremble a bit. Two new big villains appear, making Hero Shoto shout, “SEND RED RIOT AND TENTACOLE, NOW!”

You watch through the system the cameras close to where the Big Three are fighting, and you see it happen.

Deku and Dynamight are fighting strongly, but it’s quite evident how tired and drowned they already are. They are pushing through, hanging in there as much as they can, but it takes one wrong move, one wrong direction.

“...DYNAMIGHT, USE YOUR LEFT CANON…”

One of your co-workers says, and even though you’re not connected in their communication, you can’t avoid yelling, “NO!”, and standing up, looking in a first-row seat how the villain predicts Bakugou’s move, grabbing him by the arm and stabbing him with a big dagger on his stomach that brings Pro Hero Dynamight down.

You saw it happening before everyone else. It had been a wrong directive, a bad decision from your co-worker who was not paying attention to the other side of the monitor, where you could clearly see the villain getting ready, expecting Dynamight’s move.

You watch in what feels like slow motion the contorting body of Bakugou Katsuki, your husband, fall to the floor. Blood spilling down faster than you have ever seen.

“DYNAMIGHT IS DOWN!”

“DYNAMIGHT IS DOWN, SEND BACKUP, NOW!”

“DYNAMIGHT IS DOWN!”

“KACCHAN!”

“DYNAMIGHT IS DOWN!”

“DYNAMIGHT IS…!”

“DYNAMIGHT…”

Everyone has to repeat the message. It’s a directive that everyone follows to help your area adjust and react as fast as you can. Yet hearing the message repeated several times only increases the tight pressure in your chest.

No… NO!

Your whole body is trembling, and for some reason, you can’t feel your hands. You can’t focus on anything else than the image your eyes are seeing through the monitor: Bakugou Katsuki, Pro Hero Dynamight, your husband, lying on the ground over a pool of his own blood.

For being one of the best at your job, for being considered one of the few who always reacts fast and come up with solutions even quicker, for the first time, you don’t know what to do. Your whole body is petrified watching now how Deku picks Dynamight up over a shoulder and jumps away so fast they are barely visible.

Slowly, the ability to hear around you comes back, and you hear two voices. One is Jirou’s, calling your name and trying to make you react, but she’s not in danger. The other one is Izuku.

“Y/N, can you hear me? Answer me. He’s alright! He’s alive. I just left him in the ambulance, they are taking him to the hospital.”

“Y/N, GO.” Jirou’s voice says again, and you do not hesitate anymore.

You know this decision you’re about to make will get you in lots of trouble with your boss. It is imperative for everyone on your floor that you never leave mid-mission. It’s your area's responsibility to foresee that each hero you’re assigned for the day comes back to the company as safe and sound as possible.

Yet the only thing on your mind at the moment is Bakugou. 

The rest can go to hell.

You drop the earbuds over your desk and run.

Everything feels numb and looks like in a blur. You don’t exactly know how you got to the hospital, but you did.

When you arrive there, it’s chaos too. Every doctor and nurse is running everywhere, helping to heal civilians and heroes. You approach a very stressed receptionist and ask for Pro Hero Dynamight and if he’s okay. Your hands are trembling. She says he arrived a couple of minutes before you, but she apologizes saying that she still doesn’t have any more information. You’ll have to wait. And she asks you to go to the waiting room if you’re not injured.

You take a deep breath, hands clasped together tightly, trying to control the trembling in them and follow the woman’s orders. There’s really not much else you can do, causing a scene won’t help you or her.

Your walk towards the waiting room feels like floating, and it’s not a good kind of floating. It feels like your mind is not entirely in you; like you’re moving out of habit. Out of thinking. Not really feeling the soft material of the chair you just sat in. Or the coldness of the table you just rested your forearms over. Your eyes aren’t even focusing on anything, but you do perceive the amount of people there. Some are crying, others are walking from one side of the room to the other anxiously, and others are like you. Quiet, unresponsive to anything. Waiting. Hoping. All they probably care about is receiving some, any kind of news about their loved ones…

Loved ones.

Loved.

Love.

Do you love Bakugou?

Another pang in your chest makes you close your eyes for a moment, holding back the painful feeling. Fuck. It’s too much.

You don’t know how much time you wait there, sitting in that chair, in that exact same position. You just know you’re not moving from there until someone comes.

You just wish it hadn’t been her.

Bakugou Mitsuki enters the waiting room with a storming sound alongside her as she does everywhere she goes. It doesn’t surprise you the theatrical trail of tears painted black thanks to her mascara running down her cheeks, yet her eyes are dry. When she sees you, she walks directly at you.

“Where is he?! Nobody could tell me shit!”

You truly wish she wasn’t there.

“H-He is…” You clear your throat, your voice sounding so broken it even surprised you. “Doctors are tending to him. We have to wait.”

“Fucking stupid brat. He’s alive yet, then?”

You see red. So much red, you’re afraid that the image of you cutting Mitsuki’s throat with your own bare nails isn’t just a mere product of your imagination. But when you hear her heel tapping continuously on the floor annoyingly, waiting for your response, and you see her standing in front of you, you blink relieved it hadn’t been real.

“...Be smarter than her…”

Izuku, you are so good you even became part of my conscience.

You take a long deep breath, before deciding what to answer back. If she is going to act like a bitch at this very moment, then you can too, right?

“Oh, I bet you wish he wasn’t…”

“What the fuck does that mean, you moron?”

“Tell me, Mitsuki,” you know she hates it when you call her by her given name, so you do it with a smirk, “Are you here because of the wellness of your son, or because of his heritage?”

This is the very first time you call out her bullshit, that you even indulge yourself in actually saying what you actually think of her. The expression of pure rage and offense on her face is all worth it.

“You fucking little–...”

“Ms. Bakugou?”

“Yes?”

“Yes?”

Mitsuki answers at the same time you do, and it makes you roll your eyes. This woman really is a pain in the ass.

The doctor looks confused between you two, so he looks again at the chart and clarifies, “Ms. Bakugou Y/N.”

Mitsuki tchs, annoyed and crossing her arms over her chest. You immediately stand up and walk towards the doctor. “That’s me.”

“You are Mr. Bakugou Katsuki’s wife, correct?”

“Yes, I am,” you confirm as the doctor nods and asks you to follow him. You do it, hands still clasped together like dear life.

“He’s okay. He’s still under anesthesia, but he should wake in a couple of minutes. I’ve been informed his body processes and washes it quickly.”

You nod in agreement, following close behind in silence. Watching the many rooms pass by, but only caring about the one you know Bakugou would surely be in.

“He lost a lot of blood, we had to transfuse him. The dagger reached his right lung, but nothing too serious,” you are holding your breath with each statement the doctor is informing you of. “After maybe a month, Mr. Bakugou should be more than recovered. But for now, he’ll need to take it easy.”

Right when he finishes the sentence, his hand grabs the knob of the door that you know will lead you to where your husband is. You simply nod in response before the doctor opens the door. “Ms. Bakugou, you’re allowed to come and go as you please. I’ll tell a nurse to bring you your all-pass card.”

You don’t actually pay much attention to what he says, your eyes are locked over where the man that your heart beats so strongly and loudly for right now is lying over a bed, surrounded by machines and cables that constantly monitor his vital signs.

You don’t even hear when the doctor closes the door and leaves you alone with him.

Your vision blurs, and you’re afraid of moving closer, or touching something that will cause Bakugou any pain. But you’re more afraid that if you don’t get closer, don’t at least hold his warm hand, your heart will beat its way out of your chest towards him.

So you move closer, as carefully as you can. His eyes are closed, his expression so relaxed and serene, you think he looks like he hasn’t just gone through a life-and-death situation. If he hadn’t been all full of cables and as pale as he looks, it would have been the same expression he has when he sleeps at night, next to you. His chest raises slowly with each intake of breath. He is breathing. Your hands unclasp, the trembling is still there, yet you direct one towards where one of his is lying motionlessly on his side. His hand is warm. He is alive.

You feel the tears sliding down your face when Bakugou’s hand suddenly moves. It turns around and holds yours, a bit weak but firmly. Your eyes snap up towards his face. His eyes are slightly open, enough to let you know he is awake. His other hand, the one he can move better, raises and moves towards your face. The thumb cleans the trail your tears created and catches one that just escaped your eye.

“I… told you… n-not to cry… for m-me…” 

A sob finally leaves your mouth as you immediately grab his hand, holding it against your cheek. It’s big enough to almost enclose more than half of your face, your nose caressing his palm as if you were a damn cat, your other hand flies to his forearm and also caresses it. The warmth feels so comforting, so relieving, it makes you cry more.

You hear him snort affectionately, “Crybaby.”

He is okay.

[pittrabbit]

more.

warning: smut! pwp, p in v sex, dry humping, age gap (think 25 and 35), mentions of gang activity, this is pre-divorce but post-separation sammy so kinda cheating kinda not (tammy cheated first so fuck her!), reader is horny and seduces sammy, similar to the tanisha storyline from season one but rewritten with an adult reader in mind, etc etc etc.

summary: after testifying against your stalkerish ex to the police, you were not expecting to get out of there with a crush on the guy in charge of your assignment

word count: 7.1k

note: just finished season one and i was correct in my assessment — i am in fact down horrendously bad for sammy bryant. ps. sammy pic credit to @mangonom!! (pss. not proofread!!)

➽──────────────────❥

you couldn't help but let out a sigh of frustration at the your current situation.

when you first started dating that idiot you met at some stupid party right by downtown la, you never expected that he'd land you in a police station within just a few weeks of knowing him — even when you'd already ended things.

it'd been an entire hour since you'd been sitting there, eyes becoming droopy at the sheer boredom of sitting around and waiting for you to come see if you'd be willing to talk.

you weren't an idiot. you knew that talking to the police was possibly the worst thing you could do. admittedly, you had been an idiot to not realize the guy you'd dated for three weeks a month ago was, in fact, affiliated with a gang, but at least you were smart enough to know not to be a snitch. even though you didn't give a flaming shit what happened to your ex, it simply wasn't worth retaliation.

but then detective bryant walked in.

as embarrassed as you were to admit attraction to what you and your friends would've deemed a pig, sammy bryant was just different from the rest.

he'd done a double take as soon as he walked into the waiting area, finding you sitting there with boredom in your expression. his eyes raked up and down you form, straightening up his posture as he walked in your direction. visibly swallowing, he readjusted his tie, offering you an awkward smile as he continued to walk towards you.

his slight awkward, yet determined demeanor charmed you within seconds. his politeness towards you also helped his case.

sammy was sweet in his attempts at encouraging you to testify for a case they were working on. he had explained that his team was hoping to solve a murder case they were sure had been done at the hands of the gang your ex belonged to. he stumbled over his words once or twice, chuckling in embarrassment as you looked at him with obvious interest in your eyes. he seemed a little older than you, but there was no ring on that finger, so you figured he was fair game.

he huffed, scoffing any time his questions landed back to your former relationship with your ex. he wasnt shy in expressing disbelief at you dating what he called a 'useless delinquent,' claiming that a pretty girl such as yourself deserved better. this earned him a look from his partner, who was mostly a silent participant, but all you could do was giggle and twirl your hair.

so, yeah. maybe you'd let yourself fall for a guy you'd just met. a cop, no less. and maybe you'd even put your life at risk by testifying against a fucking gang member. but you'd gotten sammy's number by the end of it and a promise that he'd keep you safe, so perhaps it was a win after all.

➽──────────────────❥

you hadn't heard anything back from the police department since you left their office three days ago. you also hadn't found any good enough reason to contact sammy in those three days.

he'd said you should call if you found yourself in any danger, very insistent in that piece of advice. you heard him arguing with someone you assumed to be his supervisor, making a case that you needed to be put in some sort of witness protection in case something were to come up. it was touching how adamant he seemed about it. you could tell he was a good guy at heart.

that was when he gave you his card, gulping at the flirtatious smile on your lips when you gladly accepted it and giving you strict direction to have no reservations in calling him if you were ever in any danger.

it unfortunately didn't go past three days before you found yourself calling him as your body shook with fear.

you didn't live in a particularly dangerous part of town, but it also wasn't the type of place you'd be comfortable going on a nighttime walk in. still, you were never expecting anything news worthy to go down in your neighborhood.

when the gunshots began, you thought it must've just been a car backfiring, maybe some dumb teenagers lighting some poppers out on the street. it took your lamp quite literally exploding to your left for you to drop down to the ground in fear, crawling your way behind your kitchen counter and pulling out your phone, sammy's number already saved in your contacts and ready for dial.

"s-sammy?"

"yeah. who's this?" he didn't quite register the fear in your voice at first, his voice slightly muffled as if he were chewing on something.

speaking at that moment was a difficult task. you were hyperventilating, shaking to the point where gripping the phone felt almost impossible. you couldn't think of five objects you saw, four you heard, whatever the fuck the rest was. all you could think about was the shots fired and the possibility of someone stepping through the door to finish the job.

not realizing you'd been panting into the phone for a full minute, sammy's voice interrupted your thoughts.

it was a call for your name. a question, checking if it was you on the other side of the line.

"y-yes. sammy? i need- they're here. i'm scared, sammy." you cried.

his tone shifted immediately. you could hear commotion from his end. the picking up of things, some steps, a car door slamming shut, some unintelligible yelling.

he was on his way.

"stay right there, okay, sweetheart? i'm coming to get you. stay on the line with me, okay?"

his words were rapid, anxious, but they still offered you the comfort you needed at that moment. knowing he was willing to drop everything to come to you was enough to get your breathing back to a manageable capacity.

you tried to respond, failing at getting anything other than a whimper out of you.

"you don't gotta speak, baby. just know i'm here. keep your head down. hide if you can. i'm breaking all sorts of traffic laws to get there as soon as i can."

that make an attempt of a chuckle leave your body. he was charming even in crisis.

and he was true to his word. within five minutes you could hear the loud voices of him and his partner as they crossed the threshold of your household. their loud steps and the clanking of their uniforms unnerved you despite knowing they were there to protect you. even as they called for you, you remained hidden behind the counter, body unwilling to move.

sammy called your name a few times before finally heading into your kitchen and rounding the counter, eyes widening when he found you with your legs crammed into your arms in a fetal position. you were still shaking, tears dampening your cheeks.

"oh, baby." he murmured as he knelt to your height. "it's okay. we're gonna get you some help, yeah?"

you nodded, a small smile forming on your lips when he lowered his gaze to yours. he helped you up, holding onto you so your shaky legs wouldn't give out.

walking over to his partner, he received the 'all clear' signal, assuring there was no longer a threat in your home despite the intense damages from the shootout. more people had showed up within a few minutes. a few more cops and some suits, along with a few spectators from your neighborhood. but throughout it all, sammy stayed with you, sat with you at the sidewalk with an arm wrapped around your shoulder.

at spotting a certain lady, the same he'd been arguing with about your witness protection status, he got up, marching her way. you objected at first, still terrified and liking his comforting presence way too much, but he reassured you with a few shh's and a pat to your hair.

they were a few steps away, so you couldn't actually hear the conversation. but it looked intense. charlie was screaming, face distorted in anger as he wagged his finger at her, arms moving around, expressing his frustration.

his partner took a seat next to you then, watching sammy's argument along with you for a bit before breaking the silence.

"he's good, sammy, y'know? he's a good cop. he's gonna take care of you." he reassured.

"yeah?"

he nodded, easy, casual, "he's been worrying about you ever since you left the station. tried to get them to give you clearance for witness protection. almost got written up over it."

that surprised you.

you'd only known the man for a few days. had only spent a total of two hours with him in the interrogation room. yet he had been fighting for your protection this whole time. it made your skin shiver.

it wasn't even ten minutes that sammy spent arguing with that lady before throwing his arms up in defeat, stomping away from her the way he had towards her. he shook his head, rubbing at his face in frustration before making his way towards you and his partner still sitting on the sidewalk.

"she says she won't clear her. no fucking funds or whatever the fuck." he huffed to ben, you believed.

"no? so what are you gonna do?"

sammy turned to you, determined.

"get up, sweetheart. i'm taking you home with me."

➽──────────────────❥

"sorry about the mess, i just moved in." sammy apologizes as he picks up odd items around his apartment, throwing them out of the way as he shows you around. "it's kind of like my bachelor pad, y'know? i, uh, i don't have an extra bed, but the couch fold out." his tone was forcefully enthusiastic.

you weren't exactly excited about sleeping on a couch, but hearing some sort of confirmation that he was single lifted up your spirits. that, and the fact that you'd be staying in detective bryant's apartment rather than in some dingy motel. it was unsure how long you'd be here, but you hoped long enough to get some of those sick fantasies about the detective out of your mind.

"i like it. it's tidier than most guy's." it wasn't necessarily the truth, but you were just happy to be there (with all things considered, at least).

you were still slightly in shock, but sammy had done a great job in comforting you on the ride here. his hand hadn't left your own the entire time, calloused thumb caressing the back of your palm as your hand rested on your thigh. he was touchier than you'd expect a cop to be, but you weren't complaining. you hoped his touchiness hinted towards something more.

"really? well, at least i'm not a total mess." he chuckled. "anyway, would you like something to eat, drink? all i have is, uhhh, water and beer." he grimaced at his options. "and some leftover pizza. sorry." he scratched at the back of his head awkwardly. "it's been a while since i've had to worry about picking up groceries."

you tilted your head in question, putting down your overnight bag on the couch — he'd promised he would take you home tomorrow to pick up some more of your things, enough to stay for an undecided amount of time.

"yeah. just got a divorce. well, uhm, still in the process of it, but y'know." he continued.

you offered him a sympathetic pout, hand landing on his arm to rub it comfortingly. "oh, i'm sorry, sammy. i'm sure having to house me isn't really gonna help things. i could always just get a hotel or-"

"no! no, don't worry about that. it's all said and done anyway." he mumbled that last part, clapping his hands in front of him to signify a change in subject. "you can take a shower if you want. i'll have the couch set up for you when you're done."

"thank you, detective. really."

"sammy. you can just call me sammy."

"thank you, sammy."

you were pretty sure he blushed at that, but it was a little too dark in his apartment for you to tell. still, you left him there, heading towards the direction in which he'd pointed out the shower to be when you first arrived.

getting naked in his apartment proved more exciting in theory than in actuality. sure, you got to use his toiletries, meaning you ended up smelling like him, and maybe you nuzzled into his towel a little more than a normal person would, but it was pretty uneventful past that. still, maybe he had some imaginative thoughts about having a younger girl naked in his apartment (at least you very much hoped so).

once you were done, you decided to be a little mean. maybe you forgot your pajamas in the living room on accident. maybe it was on purpose. fortunately, this was not something you'd have to testify on.

"sammy!" you called out from inside the shower, smiling to yourself in satisfaction at him having a glass shower rather than a curtained one. this fact would serve its intended purpose.

"y-yeah?" he yelled out from outside, voice sounding louder by the end of the syllable once he made his way to the other side of the bathroom door.

"i left my pj's outside. do you think you could bring them in for me?" you yelled out. "oh, and a towel?" okay, maybe too obvious.

you could practically hear him hesitate, picture him open and close his mouth like a fish, not knowing how to answer. it took him a few silent seconds before actually verbalizing any sort of response.

"yeah, sure. i'll- i'll be right there!" he yelled back, steps trailing away from the door before trailing back after a few moments.

a knock was heard about a minute later, a hesitant one, as if you were the one who owned this apartment and not him.

"can i come in?" he called out. "i can close my eyes if you want me to. or, uhm, i could-"

"you can come in, sammy."

the image as he came in was nothing but comical.

with a hand held up to his eyes in a similar fashion to shield oneself from the sun, sammy took large, yet hesitant steps into the room. he reached out to the counter, practically throwing the clothes and towel on its surface.

"there. i- can you reach them?" he couldn't tell, as his eyes were facing towards the door, never once in your direction.

"can't really reach the towel. can you come closer?" it was hard not to giggle childishly as you said it. you were certain you could reach the towel if you tried hard enough.

he sighed, taking a few more steps before taking a quick look in your direction to make sure he was close enough. he groaned audibly before shutting his eyes shut.

"i'm so sorry. i swear i didn't see anything, i-"

you actually giggled this time.

"it's fine, sammy. i'm just pulling your leg. you can just drop the towel on the floor. i'll be fine from here."

he chuckled along with you, shaking his head to himself.

"you're going to make your stay really hard for me, aren't you?"

"goodbye, sammy. thank you for the towel." you dragged the 'goodbye', hoping the flirtation in your tone was obvious.

he closed the door with a huff, leaving you there, naked, wet, and embarrassingly enough, a little turned on. he was a fucking gentleman, you couldn't help if you found him attractive on that regard (other than all other physical attributes that drew you to him in the first place).

➽──────────────────❥

"oh, sammy, you didn't have to do all this."

walking out of the restroom, hair damp and now pajama-clad, you came across sammy sitting on the couch, heated up slice of pizza in his hand and a few snacks set up on the coffee table in front of him. the bed was already set up, with a few throw pillows and a fuzzy blanket ready for you. there was also a lamp that hadn't been there before, its warm light adding just enough vibrance to the room to not be overwhelming. the tv was on, playing some documentary in the background, adding a comforting ambience to the room. on top of it all, he had tidied up quite a bit, organizing your stuff on a table nearby while you were showering.

he shook his head, mouthful, "nonsense. want you to feel comfortable." he patted the spot next to him on the folded-out mattress, head gesturing at a plated slice of pizza in front of him. "you've been through a lot today. i want you to feel safe here."

you sat next to him, a soft smile on your face. "you're a nice man, sammy. anyone ever tell you that before?"

he scoffed. "tell that to my wife." his eyes rolled ironically, reaching over for a beer and handing you one of your own without a single word.

you took it, chuckling to yourself before setting the beer aside. you wanted completely lucid for the plans you had for tonight.

"you guys still together?"

it was a nosy question, but you needed confirmation before doing anything. you weren't a homewrecker, specially not considering you spotted a few pictures of his baby around the house — none of his supposed ex, though.

he shrugged, scoffing to himself. "nah. i've moved on. just a bunch of paperwork left now, i guess." he shook his head afterwards, hand making a dismissing gesture. "god, sorry. you didn't come here to listen to me complain about my ex-wife. you have way more things to worry about."

scooting a little closer, you closed some more distance between you, finding his eyes.

"don't worry about it, sammy. i'm staying here at least for the next few days, we might as well get to know each other, right?"

he nodded contemplatively. he gestured towards your beer, calling attention to it. "you don't drink?"

"no, yeah, i do. just wanted to stay sober for tonight. i was thinking we could just hang out for a while. unless you need to get up early?"

sammy shook his head, leaning further into the couch to signify his willingness to stay up with you for a while. "i'll stay up. you still shaken up?"

"not anymore. just like the company."

you smiled at him, with him offering you a shy smile in return.

it was easy to see that he was conflicted about your behavior. you weren't being exactly subtle about your interest. perhaps not straight up direct, but the hints of interest were there. him having conflicted feelings about returning your interest made sense to you.

so nothing happened that night — as hard as it was to not make a move on him. you decided to leave your attempts there, to simply spend the next few hours talking to him, grateful that such a nice man was willing to take you in.

sure, it was hard to drive your eyes away from the yummy muscle littering his arms, or from the constellation of freckles found all over his face, but you didn't want to scare him away or have him think you were some sort of sexual deviant (though, for him, you would gladly take that title).

when you went to sleep, he tucked you in, either incredibly oblivious as to the effect his domesticity had on you, or simply returning your affections in the most subtle way he could think of. you braved a kiss to his cheek as a form of goodnight, smiling when he visibly froze at the act, returning a pat on your shoulder instead.

the following day, you woke up to the coziness sammy had set up for you in the living room. you were still bundled up in the comfortable blanket, receiving some warm light from the lamp he'd left on nearby. on the table in front of you was a note from sammy, reading off the time in which he'd get back from work, with his credit card to the side and instructions for you to order some takeout.

you spent the entire day in his apartment, nosy as ever as you looked over anything of interest you could find. most of the day, however, was spent watching boring reruns on tv and waiting for sammy to get back. you took a chance to cook some quick meal and clean up as much as you could, wanting to repay him in any way that you could. there was now an overload of food, with the meal and the takeout combined, but you knew sammy would appreciate it.

when he came back, you welcomed him with an embarrassing amount of giddiness. you felt like a puppy awaiting for the return of its owner, wagging your tail when the man walked through the door.

every other day went more or less like this. you were off work for the time being, being instructed to stay indoors at all times unless sammy happened to be home. it was only until they caught the guys who had shot up your house. this was apparently an off-budget form of witness protection. no budget for actual protection, sammy had communicated to you with a disappointed tone of voice.

except you were anything but disappointed.

sure, your current living situation wasn't exactly conventional, but sammy made things as comfortable for you as possible. he had taken it upon himself to buy you any of your usual toiletries, your favorite foods, had even emptied a chunk of his closet for you to use. the place was too big for sammy, he'd said. claimed it was probably made for a couple rather than for a single guy. you tried your best not to read into that comment, but your delusions could not be deterred.

the two of you had become quite friendly with one another. your flirting never faltered, occasionally inspiring some flirting of his own. for the most part, you treated each other as roommates, friends, maybe something unlabeled.

he'd opened up to you about his divorce. not sad, not regretful, just nostalgic. his memories of his marriage were fuzzy, telling you it was a strange relationship, one mostly out of convenience, that it was the next logical step in his life at the time. you comforted him when you could, joked about it when it seemed sensible. the two of you grew close, not as much as you would've liked, but you knew you'd get there.

➽──────────────────❥

today was different from most days.

sammy was later than usual, now multiple hours late from work. he hadn't let you know of any overtime he was planning to take on, so you knew that this was most likely unplanned — and probably inconvenient for the poor man.

when he came home, you could hear him from your spot at the couch. you could hear the stomping of his feet, the way in which he threw off his shoes, how he slammed his keys on the kitchen table, the slam of the door, the curses under his breath. it was all leading to the conclusion of a very frustrating day for sammy. it made you feel guilty for even staying at his house. you knew he enjoyed your company, but perhaps you were also an inconvenience to him. the last thing you wanted was to make his day worse, to get in the way of him having some peace and quiet after a shitty day.

still on the couch, you decided to feign slumber. it was better for you to get out of his way, to give him one less thing to worry about.

you could hear the dragging of his feet as he stepped into the living room area of his house, suddenly making much less noise as he walked in your direction. you laid there, assuming he'd just walk past you and into his bedroom for a shower in his connecting restroom.

but then he stopped, far closer than expected. the sound of his footsteps halted near you. you held your breath, hoping not to give yourself away. that's when you felt body heat closing in, a hand softly patting your hair and the slight pressure of his lips on your cheek, so light it was almost impossible to perceive.

"missed you today. was hoping you'd be awake" he mumbled under his breath before walking out of the room.

within moments, you could hear the shower running, the sudden lack of his presence in the room.

you sat up, now feeling inadequate. had you known he needed some sort of comfort, you would've sat there waiting for him, offered him anything he needed.

getting up, you walked over to his room as quietly as you could. it was unlikely that he'd head back out after the long day he'd had, so you decided you'd meet him halfway.

you sat on his bed, a little awkward, a little uncomfortable. maybe this was too forward, waiting on his bed while he showered, donning only some oversized shirt and panties underneath.

he was a nice guy. if he really wasn't interested he'd let you down easy, right?

there wasn't much time to think it over. his shower ran shorter than usual, the sound of the water hitting the tiles dying off far quicker than previous times. he must've been exhausted. probably one of those days on watch rather than patrolling. your heart stilled, nerves increasing and skin rising in goosebumps.

he didn't notice you at first, but, god, did you notice him.

wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, he used a smaller towel to dry his hair, effectively covering his eyesight enough to not take notice of you as he walked towards his bed.

he was a vision, with a backdrop full of steam being created by his shower. his curly hair peeked from the towel he used to dry at his hair, looking darker in hue due to its dampness. what took the cake, though, was his body.

the hard muscle you'd fantasized about for weeks was out in the open. the freckled skin, slightly tanned at the forearms, paling at the middle. the same skin you got a peek of any time he'd lift his arms for a well-needed stretch. you wanted your hands all over it, to swallow him hole, drag him to bed and keep him there.

your mind landed in the gutter upon the first sight.

a shrieked "shit!" was not the reaction you'd want from a man finding you waiting for him in bed, but you understood that announcing your presence would've been preferable to him.

"sorry."

"no, don't apologize. just, uh, wasn't expecting you there. thought you were sleeping."

he walked over to you, sitting next to you on the bed, skin still slightly damp.

you were resting your weight on your knees, hands laying on your thighs and body facing his.

"rough day?"

he chuckled humorlessly, "yeah. you could say that."

you leaned closer, head close enough to his shoulder you could've comfortably rested it there if you'd so wished.

"wanna talk about it?"

he turned to you then, eyebrow lifting in question.

"y'know. that's the first time i come home to someone asking me that."

a pout made its way onto your lips. you didn't know much about tammy, but damn her.

"well, i'm asking."

you took this chance to crawl onto the fame of the bed, leaning against it before patting the space next to you, asking him to sit next to you.

"i'm naked under this." he said, dumbly. no shit.

you rolled your eyes. "so am i."

you were still on laying your weight on your knees, meaning that one wrong move and sammy would get a perfect view of the sad excuse for panties you had underneath. similarly, if he played his cards wrong, his towel could move in just the right direction to give you a peek at his goods.

those were odds you liked.

and sammy seemed to like them just as much, shrugging at your challenging comment and sitting next to you at the head of the bed.

"you've been making this very hard for me, kid." there was amusement in his eyes.

"how hard?" you leaned closer, teasing.

"is everything out of your mouth an innuendo?" he chuckled, bumping his shoulder with yours.

"don't know what you're talking about, officer. i think you just got a dirty mind."

"it's dirty, alright."

you shared a laugh, the sound faltering after a few moments, leaving you with a comforting silence.

"so. day. bad?"

"yeah. day bad." he huffed, hand running down his face, rubbing at the tissue there.

"is there anything i can do to make it better?"

you meant it. whether his response was flirtatious or in earnest. you hoped for the former, but were prepared for the latter.

"the answer i wanna give you'd be incredibly inappropriate." he practically groaned.

reaching between you, you grabbed his hand, pressing it to your thigh. not in a suggestive manner, no. just to have his skin on yours somehow.

"i think we're past inappropriate. don't you think, sammy?"

your words were whispered now. you weren't sure when, but the distance between you had diminished over the few minutes you'd spent talking. it was still a proper distance, but one sudden move could've easily changed that.

from your place, you could see every detail about sammy. the warm light of his room offered you the perfect view to every mark on his face, every freckle, every wrinkle. you could see how his lip quirked upward at your proximity, how the furrow of his brow expressed the slight hesitation still there. his hair was practically dry now, somehow creating the prettiest curls despite any lack of attention given to them after his shower.

a fleeting thought of washing his hair came to mind. lathering the shampoo on his curls, taking care of sammy after a long day, covering the expanse of his skin with soapy suds and washing it all off for him. leading him to bed, fresh and new and running your hands through his hair until he fell asleep.

your fantasy died off when sammy finally made a move of his own. his hand loosened around yours, fingers extending and tracing the soft skin of your thigh, wordless and intimate. his eyes were focused upon that spot on your skin, leaving it after a few seconds and finally finding your eyes, a carnal look overcoming them.

"yeah. i think so too."

the gap was closed then, with sammy's lips basically launching against yours, pure urgency in his movements. his sturdy hands landed on your hips like magnets, gripping at them harshly as he pulled you on top of him into a straddling position.

your legs wrapped around his own, your weight distributed between your knees and his thighs. the feeling of him under you made you dizzy with desire, made you kiss him a little harder, made your tongue dig a little deeper into his mouth. it was a mess of heavy breaths, saliva being exchanged liberally between the two of you. your hands pulled at his curls, earning a groan mixed with pain and pleasure, head thrown back and giving you the perfect chance to kiss down its length, licking at the remnants of shower water and sucking at the freckled skin.

the towel proved to be a thick barrier between you, but you remedied that by digging your hand between your bodies, hastily unwrapping its front and freeing him from underneath. his hands had found the bare skin under your shirt by then, reaching up to your breasts and cupping them in his hands, squeezing and running his thumbs over your peaked nipples. trailing back up to his lips, you sighed into them at the feeling of his hands on your skin, crying out when he pulled at your nipples, chuckling into your mouth at your squeal.

"sammy, fuck." you mumbled into his lips.

"can i get this off?" he almost whispered, hands already on the hem of your shirt, fingers itching to throw it off.

silently, you nodded, leaning back to give his hands some space to lift it off.

his greedy hands went up to your breasts again. there was no degree of shyness in showing off his depravity towards you. his hands felt at every inch of your body, going north to south and caressing every curve he could get his hands on, groaning at every moan you released at his touches. you felt itchy with desire, needing his every touch, his every drag of his fingers on your skin.

"i lied." he mumbled, making you look up at him.

"hmm?"

"that day, when you asked me to get you a towel. i turned around and saw you. naked. in my shower." he was panting every word, mumbled between kisses on your breasts. "you've been driving me crazy since that first day."

"that's good." you sighed. "cause i've been wanting to jump you since that first day at the police station."

he groaned, face digging into the crook of your neck and licking at the skin there. he sighed into your flesh, lips dragging all the way to your earlobe and nibbling at it, heavy breath so close it took over your senses.

"god, baby, you don't know what you're saying." he sounded tortured. "you're gonna make me lose my mind." he continued, hands reaching down to your middle and toying at your panties. his fingers dug beneath them, snapping at the band softly a few times before gripping at it and ripping it off, the ripping sound making you gasp.

"you're a fucking dream." he kept going, lips resting against yours, but not filling the gap, just breathing against you. "you have any idea how long i've wanted a pretty girl waiting at home for me like this? hmm? cooking for me, cleaning my place, waiting up for me with nothing on but these tiny little panties." he rubbed at your nude hips, rounding his hands to grip your ass. "just pushing me until i snapped."

your chest rose up and down, your breath heavy with desire. that was exactly what you'd wanted. you were in denial, but you'd been playing a silly little housewife fantasy ever since he'd taken you in. you'd been waiting for the day he finally came home and did with you as he pleased, until he finally stopped holding back and gave you what you both clearly wanted.

but he was being cruel now.

his hands felt so good on you, and the heaviness of his breath seeping into your lips made you sick with lust. his words had your eyes rolling back, your fingers bruising at his arms with their harsh grip. you needed him inside you, needed him to slip through the sopping wetness between your legs and let you have your way with him — or even better, use you to his heart's desire.

"sammy, please-"

"yeah, yeah, i know. i'm right here, sweetheart."

he was about to lift you up, line himself up and finally give you what you'd been begging for. but there was something else you wanted. something you'd been dreaming off since you first saw him, confident gait as if he were carrying something heavy. and now you had evidence of it.

you scoot away from him, hand reaching between you to hold him in your hand. the precum dripping from his tip made the perfect lube, moisturizing him enough for your hand to smoothly jerk him a few times before lowering your mouth on him, tongue out first to lick at the head.

"oh, baby-"

you took him in, mouth hollowed out and tongue sticking out, licking and sucking at his underside. you bobbed your head a few times to test his girth in your mouth, unable to take the whole thing in due to how thick he was, but still getting enough to hit the back of your throat. gagging around him, you moaned when his hand gripped at your hair, holding you there as his hips swirled up into your mouth a few times.

"just like that, sweetheart, shit. fucking gorgeous mouth." he moaned when you gagged, head thrown back.

saliva pooled at his base, creating a mess that trailed from your mouth to his balls. your hand went south, playing with his balls while your mouth remained occupied. your moans vibrated against him, making his toned stomach tense above you. when you looked up, you found him with his mouth agape, occasionally trapping his lower lip with his teeth to hold back sounds of pleasure.

it wasn't long until he pulled you off by your hair, making you gasp once your mouth was freed up. still, the newfound oxygen didn't make you whine at the loss of his cock in your mouth.

"i wasn't finished." you pouted at him.

he pouted back mockingly, thumb cleaning up the sliver of cum still on your lower lip before pecking at your lips. "don't wanna cum like that, baby. i have so many other plans for you.

pulling you up, he brought you to wrap your legs around him once more, hands naturally landing on your ass and pressing you up against him, breasts now in direct contact with his chest, nipples rubbing against him.

"gorgeous girl." he mumbled. "can i fuck you now, huh?"

you nodded, eyes on his lips, tilting your face so they'd connect, only to be stopped before making contact.

"shhh. patience."

asshole. he loved how into him you were. and you couldn't say you minded it. you had no problem being a desperate mess for him if that's what he wanted.

once again, he lifted you up just enough to sneak his dick between you, finding you dripping even more than before. he groaned at the feeling, letting his tip dip into you. the slight stretch made your back arch, your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders. the feeling maximized as he lowered you further, veins popping out of his arms at the strength with which he held you.

"fucking shit." he gasped, lowering his head to your shoulder, teeth baring and scraping lightly at you, clearly trying to hold back from biting you. "don't fucking move, baby. shit. need a second."

but those words meant nothing to you when you were already on cloud nine. you gasped at the feeling of him breaching you, back painfully arched and tits pressed into his chest, slightly dragging yourself up and down for some stimulation on your nipples. when you tried to mindlessly bounce on him, his hand tightened even more, groaning in a mixture of pleasure and frustration.

"just one minute, baby." he huffed. "gonna fucking come if you move."

you tightened at that — you hadn't meant to. his voice was just so gruff and his skin felt so good against yours (plus his dick, hard and curved so deliciously inside you didn't help), you couldn't control how your pussy reacted to him.

"sammy, please." you whined. you leaned closer, licking a strip of his neck and sighing into his ear, teeth nibbling at his lobe before pleading again, mean and needy. "feel so fucking good, baby. need you to fuck me. please?"

once again, he groaned, nodding defeatedly.

"okay, baby. just- fuck, just go slow, okay? gonna fucking come if you- oh, fucking shit."

you didn't listen to him, digging your fingers into his shoulders and beginning to move to your liking. the slapping of skin was immediate, the back of your thighs hitting against his legs while the poor man below you groaned and moaned into the skin of your neck. he licked and bit at you, drooling all over you while his hands scrambled to grab at your waist, legs, hips, tits, anywhere they could find.

you couldn't voice how good you felt. all that would leave your lips were the two syllables that made up his name, along with the occasional expletive. when his hips began hammering into yours from below, even those two syllables became an uphill battle.

sammy used all his strength to lift you while you fucked yourself into him, softly tackling you onto your back without removing his dick from your warmth. now above you, he wrapped your legs around him, pressing his full weight against you and trapping you beneath him. he lost his mind then, mindless as he fucked into you, groaning filth into your ear, feeding off your every whine of his name.

"so fucking good for me. perfect fucking pussy."

"how're you this tight, baby? huh?"

"that's it, take it for me, baby. such a good girl."

"you needed this dick so bad, huh? so tight i can barely breathe."

he had you babbling incoherencies in return. his words made your mind melt, your resolve leave you completely. you were so gone, your orgasm snuck into you with no warning. by the time you felt that burning hot sensation in your stomach, you were already in it. you tightened around him, biting his shoulder to muffle the scream you let out. but this didn't deter him. no, it only brought even more filth out of his lips, it only made his hips go harder, fucking you through the entirety of your orgasm.

his hips faltered after a while, a low groan leaving him when he began to release into you. one last time, he pushed deeply into you, filling you with his cum, a broken chuckle leaving him when it kept going and going, slipping out of you. when he pulled out (earning a cry from you and hush from him), his fingers took his cock's place, pushing in any spunk that leaked out.

not that he'd admit it, but a sick part of him hoped it'd take. that it'd fill you up for months, up until the moment you gave him a shared piece of you that'd have you in his home for the rest of your lives. you hoped this too, quiet and ashamed, but the two of you were well aware of your birth control pills sitting outside on the coffee table. it was just a fantasy, but the thought still made your cunt flutter around his fingers.

"shit, kid." he chuckled when he finally laid down beside you. "don't take this the wrong way, but i hope they never find the funds for that witness protection."

you slapped his chest lightly, giggling when he huffed and pulled you in closer, letting you nuzzle under his arm. "what, wanna keep me hostage now?"

"it's not a matter of want, baby. you're mine now."

[someonexsomeone]

Sweetness

Title: Sweetness

Author: SomeonexSomeone

Word Count: 3.3k

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader, James Potter x Lily Evans

Summary: The Marauders LOVED to watch you with Remus.

Authors Note: this was actually born from another fic i was writing that i hated scrapped and kept one sentence from lmao

“What are you idiots up to now?” 

There was very little that could rattle Lily Evans. Her sister, Severus Snape, and, as reluctant as she wanted to admit it, James Potter, were just a few people, not to mention the very Gryffindor nature she adopted over the years making her susceptible to reckless actions, but she was getting the hang of it, honest! It was just that stupid Potter that set her on edge without having to do anything, and then he’d bat his pretty eyelashes at her and--

Ugh. Thinking about him made her feel nauseous.

She’d done her best to avoid Potter as much as possible, not that Dumbledore made it any easier assigning them as Head Girl and Boy (despite her many protests), but he seemed adamant on sticking by her side. Or, as Marlene suggested, not that Lily believed it anyway, that Potter was simply going about his day to day life and they just happened to share a few classes together and of course he would sit near her in the Great Hall since it was practically commonplace to sit near your yearmates, and why was she paying so close attention to him anyway?

“Because he’s so annoying it's impossible to ignore. Like a moldy cheese, his stink of annoyance just fills a room.”

“You know, Lily,” Marlene teased, drawing out every word. “Some people think smelly cheese is irresistible.”

She stormed away before she could think that her red face was attributed to anything but anger.

So, imagine her surprise when, the very person she was trying to avoid, was acting more a fool than usual, his butt hanging out of a classroom door with none of the decorum required of a Head Boy. Though, she mused, why did she expect anything different from him, even if he’d been acting more mature this term.

His goofy shocked face caused her heart to flutter, another symptom of her annoyance.

“Lily!” Potter whisper-shouted, somehow being incapable of speaking quietly even when it was so obvious he was trying. Sirius Black, used to his antics, knocked a knobby elbow into his side from his position on the floor, playful glare on his face as he shushed his better half.

“Quiet!” Black hissed, voice just as loud. Potter didn’t seem to notice, sending him a sheeping smile.

“Sorry!” he said, though his voice was only lower in pitch, not volume. Lily rolled her eyes. “What are you doing here? I thought you were studying with Marlene?”

“Stalking me now, Potter?” She was shocked, however, when Potter flushed red instead of his flirty remark.

“I-I would never! You know that, don’t you?” And then, as if he realized how pathetic he sounded, his mouth twitched into a grimace. “Unless, you--…you want me to?”

“Oh Merlin,” Black sighed, shaking his head, voice exasperated. “Marlene told us in case Dorcas finished her meeting with Professor Gropmorph early.”

This time, it was Lily who flushed in embarrassment. Thankfully, Remus took the perfect moment to open the door to the classroom, unamusement clear, even as Potter and Black toppled like dominoes face first onto Remus’s shoes.

“What are you idiots doing now?” Lily felt her chest swell in kinship, even as Remus’s face dropped in shock at spotting her standing there. “Lily?”

“I promise,” she said quickly, “I have nothing to do with this!”

“What…what are you doing here? What are any of you doing here?”

“Well, you see--!” Black scrambled to his feet, knocking James over in his attempt to get up faster. “I was just--...we were just--...”

“Rounds!” James shouted, gracelessly, despite his usual athleticism, using the door frame to pull himself up. Once he was on his feet, he swung an arm around Lily. When she tried to sidestep away from him, he kept his arm firm, and she pretended to hate it. “We were just doing rounds, right, Evans?”

It was a miracle these marauders didn’t get into more trouble if this is what they were like when they were lying. James was staring down at her with his big brown eyes, twinkling with hope. Black was making a subtle motion to play along, though it was in clear view of Remus, who eyed them suspiciously.

Why me?, she thought, miserably.

“...Yeah,” she finally said, though the moment had stretched on for far too long to be convincing. Black face palmed.

“Rounds? But it’s not even dinner yet?”

James cursed under his breath. Lily rolled her eyes. How could he forget his best friend was a prefect?

“It’s those new Head rounds, right?” Black provided. James slumped in relief, immediately nodding along.

“Yep! Yeah, new rounds for Head Girl and Boy. Wouldn’t have taken the job if I knew there was so much to do!” James laughed too loud, then abruptly stopped, whipping his head down to look at Lily. “Not that I’m not responsible! I agreed, so I’ll follow through. Promise!”

“...okay,” Remus agreed, drawing out the sound to fill the sudden awkward silence. He eyes Black, almost looking like he was going to ask what he was doing there, then decided better and kept the question to himself. Lily didn’t blame him. “Well, have fun…?”

“Yes, yes! You as well, whatever mysterious thing you’re doing in there!” Black babbled, practically pushing Remus back into the room, throwing a glare over his shoulder. 

Just before the door shut, Lily swore she saw a familiar silhouette.

With the door now closed, and Black assured that Remus was far enough away, he whipped around, voice exasperated as he said, “Way to go, Prongs.”

“What?” Lily shrugged off Potter’s arm, and he had the decency to look embarrassed. “Oh, sorry. I panicked.”

“I could tell.” She made a show of whipping off her shoulder, but made no move to walk away. “What were you even doing?”

Potter opened his mouth to respond, but Black launched himself, covering his mouth with both hands. Potter's eyes widened, grabbing Black’s arms to push him away.

“Why are you curious? We’re not breaking any rules,” Black said suspiciously, voice trembling as he held his hands still. Lily eyed the two, Potter obviously not putting all his strength into the fight, then looked at the door.

“Remus is allowed to be in there,” she said instead of responding. She turned to Black, crossing her arms and standing her ground. “You, however, are being incredibly rude by spying on him.”

“He’s our friend,” Black argued, as if that justified his actions.

“Friends don’t spy on each other.”

“Friends don’t keep secret lovers.”

Immediately, the two looked at each other in equal shock, eyes widening in unison. Potter used the distraction to finally free his mouth, playfully spitting on the floor.

“Ugh, wash your hands, Pads.”

Lily blinked owlishly at Black, who looked horrified at what he revealed.

“Remus is dating--”

“We don’t know for sure,” James said before she could continue, warily glancing at the closed door. Deciding it would be best to move away, he nodded his head at Black, then gestured Lily down the hall, an illusion of privacy she found she appreciated. Once they were a good ways down, where the door all but disappeared into the lopsided cobbled wall, James continued, “It’s just a hunch we’ve had.”

“A hunch?” 

“Our Moony is very protective of his pack--” Potter coughed pointedly at Black, who just rolled his eyes, “--of friends.”

“What he means,” James cut in, “is that Moony is very selective of who he gets close to. Childhood trauma and all that. He just hasn’t gotten around to introducing us yet.”

Lily thought they were being very nonchalant for discussing childhood trauma, but she shrugged it off, reminding herself these were the boys who thought dungbombs were funny because they smelled like farts.

“And you were…what, trying to find a good time to introduce yourselves?” Potter turned sheepish while Black laughed.

“Not…not exactly.”

“Not that you would know, dear Evans, but our Moony is quite the romantic.”

“Remus? Remus Lupin?” Lily conjured the shy Remus she knew, the one who stuttered the first time they interacted, who she recalled being too quiet to stand up to his friends’ wrongdoings, but helped in every other instance. Remus, who she rarely saw with anyone but his roommates, despite the countless people throwing themselves at his feet for a date.

Black nodded, long hair swinging around his shoulders.

“The most. Would put Calyna Ollapianne to shame.” Although Lily was lost, no doubt one of many pop culture wizards she hadn’t had the time to discover, the way Potter was nodding his head made her inclined to believe it was a good thing. Maybe Mary would know, she wondered to herself, she’s always been into wizarding things.

“And, you see, he’s shy.” To this, Lily nodded. “So, when he does fancy someone, he doesn’t always have the courage to say something.”

“Except!” Black’s mischievous smile made her nervous. “Our dear Moony, who usually runs away tail between his legs when a pretty thing walks by, is currently locked in a room, far from other students or distractions, supposedly tutoring a very pretty thing.”

Lily stopped, her two companions falling in line to look at her, identical smiles on their faces. If she didn’t know Black had been staying with the Potter’s, she might have been weirded out. Instead, she only felt confusion, looking back over her shoulder to the hallway they just abandoned. Black was practically bouncing on his feet as he waited for her response.

“So…”

“Yes?”

“Remus is currently tutoring a fellow classmate and your…disrupting him?” Black sighed dramatically, obviously not what he was expecting to hear from her.

“Come on, Evans. You’re not the littlest bit curious?” He gestured down the hall. “We just let you in on one of our biggest secrets and you can’t even give me a dramatic gasp?”

“One of--?”

“We don’t bother them,” Potter reassured before she could continue, giving her a softer smile, one that relaxed her nerves, as much as she hated to admit it. “We just…want to make sure he’s doing alright. Provide emotional support, or whatever.”

Lily looked, really looked, at James as he stuttered over his words, pointedly avoiding her eyes. Even with his tanned skin, she could see the beginnings of a flush creeping up his neck, painting the tips of his ears rosy. The more she looked, the more he stammered, hands waving wildly, knocking into Black, though neither of them really acknowledged it, too busy studying her or too used to it, she didn’t know. She tucked away the knowledge that her stare made him stumble over her words.

By the time his voice was getting shrill, pathetically forming messy sentences that somehow implicated him and Black in a torrid affair with Remus, a familiar boy rounded the corner.

“Hey! Sorry, am I late?” Pettegrew called, face red and sweaty from no doubt running to meet up with his friends. “I got here as fast as I could.”

Though Remus was by far her favorite Seventh Year boy, Peter Pettigrew was high on her list, thanks to his inability to talk without his friends nearby. Lily hadn’t had many interactions with him, beyond the odd Gryffindor camaraderie at matches and being paired up in class, but there was something about the way he followed along behind his friends, as if he was completely spineless, set her on edge. Pathetic, she hated to admit, was one of the few words she associated with him, and she felt bad enough about it that she often went out of her way to be extra kind to him. Like now, as she gave him a small smile. Pettigrew gave her a toothy one in return when he spotted her.

“Oh, Evans! I didn’t know you liked watching Moony too!”

“Watching…?”

“Yeah!” He laughed, setting Black and Potter on edge. “These two are obsessed with watching Moony get all lovey--”

“You’re such a snitch!” Black yelped before he could continue, locking Pettigrew’s head in the crook of his arm, pushing his fist into the top of his head and rubbing until both of their hair was askew.

“I thought you were there to provide ‘moral support’?” Lily questioned, side eyeing Potter, who started to stutter again. 

It should have been obvious, she mused, that they were lying about being there for his friend. As long as she’s known them, they were always up to something. Niceties hiding deception, innocence hiding trickery. Even if he’d matured in the past term, actually being a good Head Boy despite her reluctance to admit it, old habits die hard.

“We really are! It’s just--...It’s just…” Potter’s stutter, despite usually making her want to roll her eyes, made her feel a little bad. After all, they were a collection of contradictions. Who's to say he couldn't be spying for good and bad reasons? She nearly pinched herself at the thought.

Black, noticing his friend's dilemma, loosened his hold to step closer. Pettigrew used the distraction to pull his head away, surprisingly knocking a leg out to trip Black, sending him tumbling into Potter, and both of them onto the floor.

“They're looney,” Pettegrew rushed out, a mischievous smile on his face. Potter and Black wiggled against each other on the floor, untangling limbs to stop their friend from saying more. “Obsessed with how Moony gets all soft. Did they tell you their favorite thing is when he stands behind to guide wand movement with his whole body? ‘Oh, Prongs, hold me like Moony does!’, ‘Pads, Pads! Do you think they’ll kiss later?’!”

“Snitch!” Potter shouted this time, launching himself across the floor towards Pettigrew’s knees, knocking them down. The two grappled on the floor, Pettigrew laughing while Potter stuttered apologies towards Lily, swearing they weren’t creeps, while Black rose beside her, cackling and cheering them on, an annoying ‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’ that brought on a migraine she did not need to deal with right now. 

“What are you doing?” All four of them froze, the unexpected stern voice rattling them to their bones. 

Lily was the first to turn, wince pulling her eyebrows to her nose as she watched Remus hurry down the hall, obvious exasperation on his face. She felt even worse as she spotted you trailing behind him. It was obvious they weren’t as quiet as they hoped, pulling you from the tutoring session Remus had gone through the trouble of renting a room for.

“Lily?” You called, evidently more confused to see her than the two locked in a wrestle on the floor. “What are you doing here?”

“I was--...I was just--…” She felt foolish stumbling over her words like that. It was a public hallway, she had every right to be here just as the others did, and she wasn’t one of the bubbling fools getting their uniforms dirty while they rolled on the floor. Well, she wasn’t one of the fools, but she had to admit she was very much bumbling.

“Why are you two always on the floor?” Remus said, exasperated. He reached down, hauling Pettigrew to his feet, much to Potter’s dismay, who had to rise on his own, Black still too busy eyeing you up. She could have sworn she saw Remus send a sharp glare in Black’s direction, but the harshness completely vanished as he looked at you again. Instead of the mean look he reserved for his friends, his eyebrows relaxed, face going rosy as he apologized. “I’m sorry, we’re meant to be studying.”

“Yeah, studying…” Black murmured under his breath, much too loud to be a private thought. Lily stomped on his foot not too discreetly in retaliation. “Merlin’s beard--!”

She turned to stick her tongue out at him, a very irresponsible thing to do as Head Girl but there was something about these troublemakers that made her feel like a little kid again, but before she could do more, Potter elbowed her harshly in the side. When she whipped toward him, he had an embarrassed flush on his face, evidently not meaning to hit her so hard, but he gestured quickly back to you. Only curiosity had her pulling her eyes away from him.

“It’s alright, Rem.” Lily watched as Remus all but melted at the nickname, easily dodging around the group to return to your side. His hand hovered over your shoulder, then dropped, either too nervous or too aware of the watching eyes to actually touch you. It didn’t stop his fingers, however, from twitching towards you as you gave him a smile. “It’s getting close to dinner anyway.”

“Sorry about them.” 

Black wiggled his eyebrows at Lily as Remus’s voice dropped to something sickly sweet, lower and smoother than she was used to hearing. However, as he flicked his eyes towards his friends, all in unison the boys whipped their heads away, whistling or otherwise pretending to not be paying attention. Lily flushed, then looked to her feet, disbelieving that she was following along. But, she hated to admit, this was much too good to walk away from.

“They're fun. And, we can always pick up where we left off tomorrow. No big deal.” You seemed to have no qualms touching him, your hand reaching out to squeeze one of his in reassurance. Lily lifted her eyes just in time to watch a scattering of goosebumps litter the back of his neck, just above the collar of his messy button up. “Same time?”

“Yeah, same time.” She could almost hear the sadness in his voice, easily picturing puppy ears sprouting from his head at how downtrodden he was at leaving you. You seemed to agree, laughing, and then reaching out to gently pat his face. “Have fun at dinner.”

“You could always join us, you know!” Black called out when you pulled away, surprising everyone by daring to speak out and break the gentle atmosphere that surrounded you two. Remus whipped his head around to glare, though he failed as his eyes widened in shock, motioning to cut it out. Potter hissed under his breath in tandem with Lily’s pinch to his side, but Black simply let a smooth smirk pull across his lips, ignoring everyone’s not so subtle hints. “Remus always talks about how much he misses you--”

In perfect unison, Lily stepped out of the way, latching onto your arm to pull you away, while James slapped one of his big hands across Black’s mouth, giving you a bright smile.

“--your tutoring lessons!” he gasped out, glancing at Remus quickly before returning his smile to you. “Loves--likes what a good student you are! Best one he’s ever had!”

“Potter was just telling me how good Remus was. Tell me about it?” Lily suggested, piggybacking off Potter’s obvious lie, tugging you down the hallway. You looked at her quizzically, obviously wondering why she suddenly was all buddy-buddy with you when you two hadn’t shared so much as a whole conversation before, but you didn’t press.

“Alright?” She felt giddy as a soft smile stretched across your lips, neck craned awkwardly so you could turn to look back at Remus, waving your hand. “Bye, Remus. Thanks again.”

“Yeah! Yes! Anytime!” Lily giggled to herself at the fumble, his hand waving a bit too frantically to be casual, but it seemed to only endear you more, nearly tripping over your feet so you could continue to look at him.

The two of you barely managed to round the corner before Black’s obnoxious voice rang out, “Way to go, Moony! You sly wolf!”

Yes, it seemed those marauding boys had a hobby of watching your interactions with Remus, somehow managing to do it in the creepiest, most intrusive way possible. But, she thought as you laughed, wistfully looking over your shoulder, she saw the appeal. 

And, if she found herself in this hallway again tomorrow, now, that was surely just a coincidence.

______________________________________________________________

masterlist  l hogwarts masterlist

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hi there! I had an idea for either series!ENA or BBQ!ENA interacting with a reader who's like a therapist or something. Like Ena says something kinda messed up and reader's like "no, that's not normal. Are you ok?" Both these girls need so much therapy, or at least a friend. I think reader becoming protective of Ena would be cute. Reader getting mad at the other entities for being mean to Ena without any real reason (that they know of). If you can't/don't want to do this for any reason, that's OK! Take your time and put yourself first!

I can do both!

..........

Series!ENA

Even though Ena (in Power of Potluck) talked to the Therapist, got rid of Mask, and tried to find joy in the little moments--he believes that someone should still keep an eye on her.

That's where you come in, befriending her just to see how she's been handling life in general ever since her session.

Mask hasn't returned, but right off the bat she looks troubled as you explain who sent you and why, although you reassure her it's normal for your boss to request that you checked up on his past patients.

During your talks, her happier side has no complaints really, always grateful to have a new friend. But she does admit to being bothered by her sad side--mainly the effects it had on people she knew.

She's constantly apologizing for her emotions getting "out of hand", even in front of you, and tries burying that sadness--but she gets a wakeup call after you explain how that can do more harm than good.

Eventually, you build enough trust with Ena that she'll willingly turn into her sadder form, and remain in that state long enough for you to make meaningful progress with her.

You notice her tendencies to jump to nonsensical negative conclusions/inaccurate perceptions of herself.....and of course, she has a lot of crying fits/glitches that you gotta help her cope with.

"I-I don't know, I just feel..stupid and worthless sometimes..a-and everyone around me agwees.."

"You believe everybody thinks of you that way? Can you give me an example?"

"W-Well..this one guy asked me for diwections yesterday, a-and...and I couldn't help him!"

"So...he called you those things as an insult?"

"No, h-he thanked me for twying and w-was polite. But I know that's what he weally wanted to say!! Because I'm too stupid and worthless to give anyone diwections!!"

"How do you know for sure he was thinking that?"

"......I....I-I don't know, actually.."

You've gotten better at redirecting her negative thinking, and making her realize that a lot of her assumptions are kinda silly...

Least to say, she feel better coming to you for advice.

Some days she wants to ramble about her day with Moony or what she saw in the sky. Other times, she just needs a hug and a shoulder to cry on. And you're more than willing to offer those at any time.

Outside of your work, you've tagged along in her many adventures, seeing for yourself how rude other entities act towards her---and knowing so many languages helps you easily back sass those who insult her.

They always assume you can't understand them...until you leave them (and Ena) shocked when you suddenly speak their same language.

Dream BBQ!ENA

"So the Genie of the Lonely Door basically told me I'm unforgivable and should be punished for being born.......but that's not even the worst part of that day-"

"P a u s e."

That pretty much sums up your sessions/hangouts with this Ena.

As soon as she was done dealing with the Boss, she finally took time off of work to get some much-needed counseling.

Fortunately, you were a friend she met during one of her assignments who happened to be pursuing psychology, travelling far and wide to study the minds of everyone you've met.

You suggested that she gave therapy with you a try and, holy hell...you were in for a surprise.

She was willing to pay you in chocolates, fatty catties, etc. for your services....which was perfect compensation considering you may need therapy for yourself.

Salesperson yaps about the most recent absurd/rude thing an entity did or said to her...while pretending like it's just another day in the workweek, looking confused when you point out how that's not normal at all.

Meanie, on the other hand, is a different beast. And is honestly the half you're more worried about.

Since she represents the typical fatigued worker who's trapped in their job and feels like they can't afford to have any fun or luxuries without suffering for it.....she vents a lot, and her opening up about it is like her chipping through a brick wall.

Her anxiety over even mentioning the things that bother her is enough to make vines creep onto her body.

And one time, her broken green form showed up at your doorstep, which was terrifying at first glance....but then you recognized that she desperately needed your help--and you let her in, consoling her until she was able to restabilize and explain what led to that state.

Luckily that's the only time you've ever seen that form, and the vines on her body have grown smaller and weaker to the point where they were barely visible.

It quickly becomes apparent to you that Ena is struggling with some form of PTSD, as though she was a soldier trying to find her place in regular society again--returning from a war that you had no idea even occurred.

You've been trying to uncover the mystery of what she's done in the past...and if that was connected to why so many people seemed to hate her.

Regardless of the reason, though, you hoped to remain her friend and that she'd keep visiting you as often as she needed.

[roanokezephyr]

AU idea that I will probably never write but can’t get out of my head. Buckle up bitches.

Warning: stuckony. Ok you’ve been warned.

In a timetravel accident (Pym Particles, Strange, or other misc time travel plot device), Tony gets stranded in Siberia in the 50s. The people who save his ass are HYDRA. He already knows Russian from Nat, so to save his own skin, he becomes a HYDRA agent under the name Antony Starkov, and of course immediately begins passing info to SHIELD. They’re skeptical at first, can’t teach an old dog new trick and all, but he’s an amazing study and under torture refuses to admit being FBI, CIA, or SHIELD.

The Winter Soldier’s handler is a man named Oleksandr Melenevsky, a sadist who takes his torture of the Asset too far, even by HYDRA’s standards. Tony is assigned to the position of Handler after Melenevsky almost kills the Asset during a ‘punishment’. Not that HYDRA cares about the health or safety of their Asset beyond its tactical value, but all the same they aren’t stupid enough to risk their most valuable asset being killed unnecessarily.

Tony always calls him ‘Winter’ rather than ‘Asset’ or ‘Soldat’, less dehumanizing that way and he can’t just call him Bucky Barnes in front of a kajilion HYDRA agents. In private, Tony whispers in English to Bucky, telling him about his life before HYDRA. They keep wiping him though, so Tony never runs out of stories. He thinks they start to stick, after a while.

After five years stuck in the past, Tony gets extracted. His last words before vanishing are “catch you on the flip side Buckaroo”.

When Tony returns to the present, still done up in his HYDRA gear, Bucky freezes.

“Handler Starkov,” he breathes

“That’s my name- wait, no it’s not, that’s gonna take some getting used to- anyway I guess that means you remember, huh?”

“Yeah, I remember you- you were never on their side at all, were you?”

“No, but that doesn’t excuse what I’ve done.” Tony looks supremely guilty now, dipping his head. Steve looks on in shock.

Bucky only smiles, “If it wasn’t you, it would’ve been someone else, someone much crueler if I had to bet. It’s coming back now, you were downright kind, not very HYDRA of you.”

“Still, I was your Handler. I used your trigger words and forced you to kill. I was HYDRA. I don’t expect your forgiveness.”

“Well, you’ve got in anyway. I forgive you, deal with it.” Bucky smirks.

Tony smiles sadly, “I forgive you too, for my parents I mean. I can’t in good conscience hold that against you, and I’m sorry that this is what it took for me to see that.”

…

Tony returns to the tower, learning that it’s been two years in the present since he’s been gone. Thankfully, he hasn’t been declared dead yet, which makes everything so much easier on the legal front. He settles back into the team dynamic with a few bumps, specifically Steve has a hard time accepting him back.

It’s only when Bucky has an episode and Tony is the only one who can take care of him that Steve internalizes that Tony isn’t the enemy, he isn’t HYDRA. The trio grow closer at it quickly becomes apparent that Tony is the only one who can take care of Bucky on his bad days.

During those episodes, Bucky will revert to the base programming in his head and not know where he is. Before Tony came back, the Asset’s response was to lock itself in the room and try to figure out where it is and what the mission is, denying itself care in the absence of an authority figure to approve anything.

When it sees Handler Starkov though, it recognizes him as its Handler, but also as Safe. It gets a vague sense of panic, like the alternative to Handler Starkov is something so bad that its mind has blocked it out not just from the wipes, but also from regular old trauma. It will comply with Handler Starkov to the letter, it will not give him a reason to send it back to wherever it came from.

It eats and drinks what Handler Starkov puts in its hands, though there has been no mission and thus no need for rations. It relaxes slightly at his touch when he bathes it, though there is no blood and minimal grime to wash away. It even sleeps on the bed which Handler Starkov designates for its use, though it has never been cleared to use that equipment before. Perhaps it has performed exemplarily, and earned a reward? This has not occurred before, but by now it is sure that Handler Starkov is not like any other handler.

Steve is just glad that someone is able to take care of Bucky.

Steve and Tony bond as they lead the Avengers and over taking care of Bucky, and though Steve had only ever loved Bucky, he finds himself developing feelings for Tony and then guilt for said feelings. He’d never cheat on Bucky, and he’ll get over this little crush.

Meanwhile Bucky builds upon the base feeling of Safe he has around Tony, to something deeper. But he’d never cheat on Steve, and Tony had been his Handler. How fucked up is that? It was practically Stockholm Syndrome, and besides, Tony could have anyone, why would he ever want Bucky? He buries his feelings.

Tony, for his part, is in crisis. He’s only just got back from being a HYDRA goon, and now he’s falling not only for Captain Spangles (a crush he’d been holding onto for a long time but that’s between him and God) but the Manchurian Candidate too. See, as the Winter Solider, Bucky had been pretty unresponsive, and Tony hadn’t had much interest beyond trying to protect him from HYDRA. Before that, all Bucky had been was his parents’ murderer. Now though? Now that he was spending real time with both super soldiers? He was falling harder than he ever thought possible, for both at the same time. Damnit.

Things come to a head when the three are captured together. Tony gets hurt real bad, and as he’s on the verge of death, he confesses. When they get out, it’s Bucky who awkwardly asks if, in the future, you can date two people at once. Tony, not really remembering what he had said, gives them a crash course on polyamory. He thinks they’re pulling his leg when they ask him to join their relationship, but then it comes out what he said, and Tony has no choice but to realize that Steve and Bucky are being sincere. He accepts.

[queencaptainbarnes]

To Lose Both

Summary: Bucky & Steve never could find out what happened to you in the future, but when a mission causes them to go to the past, they see you again from afar.

Steve and Bucky were strapping on their gear, getting ready to leave. The mission was definitely out of the ordinary, but everyone else was already off on their own assignments, and Fury made it clear this one had to stay under the radar.

Neither man knew exactly how to feel about the plan. Tony swore it was foolproof — easy, as long as they didn’t get caught.

Right. Easy.

“You ready?” Steve asked, glancing up from where he was tightening his boots.

Bucky adjusted a strap across his shoulder, then held out a hand to help him up. Steve took it, standing beside him.

“I don’t know,” Bucky admitted. “This plan seems like it could go sideways. Especially since it’s us going back.”

“We can pull it off. It’s gonna be weird, though…” Steve’s voice was steady, but even he wasn’t fully sold on the idea. Still, they didn’t have many options.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Bucky grumbled, and the two of them made their way into Banner and Stark’s lab.

“If it isn’t the stars of the show,” Tony called out as they entered. “You boys ready?”

His enthusiasm didn’t do much to ease their nerves. In fact, it made Bucky visibly more annoyed.

“I guess,” Steve muttered, eyeing the machine they were about to use. “You sure this is a good idea?”

“Nope,” Tony replied without missing a beat. “But since when have we ever had a solid plan that was also a good idea?”

Steve shot him a look — unimpressed.

“You’ll be fine, Cap,” Tony said with a shrug. “Not like you’re going somewhere you’ve never been.”

“This isn’t the same, Tony,” Steve replied.

Tony sighed. “Look. Fury thinks the blueprints you’re stealing are being used for some kind of future weapon — one they’re testing on undercover agents. Torture-level stuff.” He tapped rapidly on his iPad. “If you two aren’t up for the job—”

“We didn’t say that,” Bucky cut in.

Tony raised an eyebrow, glancing between them. “Okaaay. Step up on the platform.”

Steve climbed on first, Bucky right behind. They watched Tony retreat behind the control panel.

“This better not backfire, Stark,” Bucky muttered.

Tony rolled his eyes, glancing up. “Feel free to leave him on the side of the road with a sign that says ‘Free to a Good Home,’” he said, smirking.

“Tony,” Steve warned.

“Relax. Just kidding.”

A moment later, both men felt it — a strange tingling, like tiny electric currents crawling over their skin. Steve shivered and stepped a little closer to Bucky.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Tingly. Like… light electrocution.” Bucky cleared his throat, trying to shake off the dull headache forming behind his eyes.

Suddenly, the lab disappeared.

They were standing in what looked like a storage closet. Dusty. Dim. Musty.

“Smells old in here,” Bucky muttered.

Steve cracked open the door, peeking out into a hallway buzzing with people walking by.

“Hopefully Tony put us in the right place,” he whispered.

“This was a stupid plan. Why did we agree to this?”

Steve smirked faintly, glancing over his shoulder. “We’ve gotten away with worse.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You Avengers really push your luck.”

“I think now’s a good opening.” Steve slipped out into the hallway, Bucky right behind him.

“The tracker Tony gave us is working — I’ve got a signal.”

They moved down the hall, heads low, blending in. No one gave them a second glance.

“Here,” Steve whispered, stopping in front of a door labeled Tech Labs. He pushed it open slowly. The room was empty.

“Wow. Not even one guy,” Bucky said.

Steve checked the wall clock. “It’s noon. Probably out to lunch.”

“That’s terrible security.”

“It’s the past, Buck. They weren’t too concerned about it back then.”

“Little do they know half their staff are Hydra.”

Steve sighed. The knowledge still stung. The very organization Peggy helped build had been rotten on the inside all along. He’d tried to move on — rebuilding S.H.I.E.L.D. gave him hope — but some wounds still ached.

The lab was filled with tables cluttered with vials, blueprints, and notes Steve didn’t begin to understand. Tony’s tracker led them to a locked filing cabinet in the far corner. The signal beeped rapidly.

“Find it?” Bucky asked.

“I think so. Keep watch, will ya?” Steve pulled out a lock-pick kit and knelt in front of the cabinet.

“Why don’t you just break it open?” Bucky asked, keeping his eyes on the hallway.

“That wouldn’t be very subtle, would it?”

“It’d be faster.”

“We’re supposed to be quick and quiet, Buck,” Steve muttered, focused on the lock.

“Whatever. They could’ve asked Natasha and Clint to do this.”

“They’re on a mission in Peru. Why are you so against this, anyway?”

“I just wanna get out of here before someone we know shows up.”

“Like who?” Steve asked, pausing. “We don’t know anyone here. It’s simple. In and out.”

A click — the lock opened. Steve grinned as he stood, pulling out a file labeled in red sharpie.

“Told you. In and out.”

Bucky turned to him but froze, eyes widening. Then his expression shifted — something between shock and sadness.

“No way…” he whispered.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked, but before he could get an answer, Bucky grabbed him by the shoulder and yanked him down behind one of the lab desks.

“Hide. Now.”

Steve was about to question it, but then he heard the door burst open — slamming against the wall.

“You’re being absolutely unreasonable!” a woman shouted.

Steve went still. That voice — he knew that voice.

Peggy.

Her heels clicked against the lab floor as she paced. Another pair of shoes followed closely behind.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?” Peggy said. “You’re throwing your life away—”

“My life? My life ended the day my brother died!” the second voice snapped.

Steve’s breath caught in his throat.

Y/n.

His sister. Her voice — filled with pain, defiance, life. He hadn’t heard it in decades.

He glanced at Bucky. His friend was frozen, expression unreadable, eyes wide.

“Y/n,” Peggy started, but she was cut off.

“He’s dead!” Y/n’s voice cracked, like it physically hurt her to say it. “And I was so happy when he didn’t get enlisted the first time.”

Steve furrowed his brow, leaning in slightly.

“The second time…” she continued, her voice softer. “I never told Steve, but the day before I went to the recruiter’s office, I begged the guy not to let him enlist. Told him he wasn’t what they were looking for. I practically begged him.”

Steve inhaled sharply, barely a sound — but Bucky heard it.

Peggy was quiet for a moment. “Y/n… your brother was a hero. Captain America meant so much to so many people—”

“I don’t care!” Y/n yelled, slamming her hand on the table. “He was my brother first. He didn’t need to be Captain America to be brave. Or kind. Or funny. He already was… and now he’s gone.”

Steve felt like the air had been sucked from his lungs.

“Y/n,” Peggy said gently. “What you’re trying to do — it’s dangerous. You could die trying to find—”

“I have no one left, Peggy,” Y/n said quietly. “Part of me died the day Steve told me Bucky was gone. And the rest of me died when Steve didn’t come home.”

There was a pause, and then her voice steadied — cold, determined.

“If Howard is going to find my brother, then I’m going to find the man I love. I’m bringing them home. Both of them.”

Steve looked over at Bucky again.

His friend’s breath had stilled. His eyes were glassy.

“You won’t find Sergeant Barnes’ body, Y/n,” Peggy said carefully.

“I’ll find something,” Y/n muttered. “I have better luck than Stark. Maybe even better instincts.”

“If Steve knew…”

“He’d hate me,” Y/n said. “For being bitter. For trying to keep him from enlisting. For not being the supportive little sister he thought I was. But you know what? I’d rather him be alive and hate me… than die thinking I never cared. That I was just pretending to believe in him.”

Peggy stood there…silent. The weight of Y/n’s confession filled the room like fog — thick, heavy, and hard to breathe through. Steve sat still, back against the cold steel leg of the table, fists clenched. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think straight. Every word she said echoed through his chest like a thunderclap.

He’d never heard that side of her pain.

He had always assumed she was proud. Supportive. Heartbroken, yes, but never this. Never so filled with regret. And the truth hurt — because she wasn’t wrong.

Beside him, Bucky was equally shaken. She was here. Alive. Breathing. Close enough to touch.

But unreachable.

Peggy finally broke the silence. “You’re not alone. Not really.”

Y/n let out a hollow laugh. “It feels that way.”

“I know it does,” Peggy said gently, “but I’ve read Howard’s reports. Even if we find something, there’s no guarantee it’s them. If you go digging into this, you could be putting yourself in danger — and for what, Y/n?”

Y/n’s voice dropped, quiet now, but more powerful than ever. “For closure. For hope. For a chance that maybe they’re not really gone.”

Steve swallowed hard, heart hammering in his chest. You’re not wrong. You were never wrong, he thought. She was right to be scared. Right to want to protect him. And God, how he wished he could’ve told her he understood now.

Y/n exhaled deeply. “I’m doing this with or without your help, Peggy.”

A pause.

Then Peggy sighed in reluctant defeat. “Then I’m coming with you.”

The sound of movement above them made both men freeze again. Heels on the floor, rustling papers, the squeak of a chair pushed back. Then footsteps — two pairs — walking away.

Steve didn’t move until the door clicked shut.

Even then, he stayed frozen, trying to process what he’d just heard. He slowly turned toward Bucky, whose face was unreadable. But his eyes were shining with something between heartbreak and longing.

“She was talking about you,” Steve whispered.

“I know,” Bucky replied, voice low and distant. “She… loved me. I never knew how much until now.”

“I didn’t know how much she hated me being Captain America,” Steve added, his tone filled with pain, but not anger. More like sorrow.

Bucky finally moved, rising to his feet and offering a hand down again. “She didn’t hate you. She loved you too much.”

Steve took the hand and stood. “We need to finish the mission. Then…” He glanced toward the door. “Then maybe we figure out a way to come back.”

“You mean to tell her?”

Steve nodded. “She deserves to know. Everything.”

Bucky looked toward the door for a moment longer, as if he could still see her standing there. Then he looked back to Steve.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.”

And with that, they slipped out of the lab, the stolen blueprints tucked under Steve’s arm, the weight of the past heavier than anything they’d expected to carry.

But maybe now… they had something else to fight for. Something more personal. Something worth rewriting the rules for.

[d1xonss]

heyyy went thru all your masterlist (reader one) and fell inlove with your fics i was wondering if you can write something like grumpy!daryl x sunshine!reader ykwim? like they complete eachother (::

Sunshine

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 10

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff

✧ Word Count : 2.1k

AN ~ Ahhh thank you so much for reading, it truly means so much! I’m always down to write this type of stuff, I think it’s so cute:)) I appreciate the request and hope you enjoy! ps- I thought this was a super cute thing to post for Valentine's Day💋

It was quiet, peaceful inside your home as you busied yourself around the space. It was a nice hot summer day, and you felt quite accomplished with the amount of things you had gotten done in just the span of a few hours. You tended to your garden full of colorful flowers, made a trip to the pantry to pick up a few things you were running low on, cleaned and tidied up the house, the list really went on and on. But the truth was you loved doing things like this, it almost tricked you into believing that life outside the gates was normal again. Even though you knew it wasn’t, it was still nice to pretend from time to time.

Currently, you busied yourself with making some of your famous homemade brownies, something you found you hadn’t made in quite some time. With everything going on lately, it was hard to find the time to do the things you loved most, which was in fact, to bake. But now that everything had died down for the most part, you quickly hopped back onto the opportunity. Whether it was cake, cookies, or some kind of bread, you always found life to be a little bit better with something sweet.

But you weren’t just making these brownies for yourself, in fact, whenever you whipped something up it was never just for you. It was also for your husband Daryl whom you adored more than anything else in this world, the man constantly making you happier with each passing day. And he loved you just as much if not more, and he especially loved being your taste tester whenever you tried out a new recipe. The first time you had called him that, he just scoffed and shook his head as if what you said was something stupid. But you could see that small smirk he had on his face afterwards, silently telling you that he actually loved the little job you assigned, though he would never admit it out loud.

You hummed to yourself quietly as you began to mix the dry and wet ingredients together, swaying your hips a little to the soft song playing in the background. Recently you had found a record player on a run and you were over the moon excited to use it, missing music from the world before. And although you hadn’t found the best records in the world to listen to, you thought almost anything was better than the quiet. The most you had found were a few country albums which weren't in your top favorite genres for sure, but you had to admit it was growing on you the smallest bit. With the way you danced along, it was hard to deny.

Your head then suddenly snapped up when you heard the sound of the front door opening, a smile being brought to your face as you already knew who it was. He was a little loud upon entering your shared house, dropping his crossbow on the table with a loud smack, huffing and puffing as he entered the living room without a word. Your smile dropped a little, usually he would call out to you to announce that he was home, but clearly today was not one of those days. He was in a mood, and you knew you would have to cheer him up.

Although Daryl was perfect to you in every way, he was a pretty grumpy man from time to time when things didn’t work out or go the way he planned. The littlest things could completely ruin his demeanor for the rest of the day at times. He would hold onto it, rant about it constantly while it was on his mind, even though most of the time it was something that he couldn’t change. But you assumed that’s what frustrated him the most. And this was no different, hearing him sigh heavily in the other room as he plopped down on the sofa. 

But the best thing about you, was that at the end of the day, you always found a way to make him feel better.

You discarded the mixing spoon that was in your hand, moving out of the kitchen and towards the living room in an attempt to see what was bothering him. But once you caught sight of him whilst lingering in the doorway of the space, you sighed quietly upon seeing how he held his face in his hands, slumped over the side of the couch. You could tell he was irritated and that something had happened today while he was out, but it was nothing that you couldn’t fix. And you figured the brownies would help too.

So you finally pushed yourself forward to enter the room, softly sitting down next to him as you raised your hand up to squeeze his shoulder lightly. “Hi sweetie.” you greeted softly.

But he didn’t respond. He didn’t even raise his head up to look you in the eye. The most he did was grunt, and even you didn’t know in that moment if it was directed towards you or not.

You eyed him for a moment before speaking again, “How was your day?” you asked gently while rubbing his shoulder up and down now.

Still nothing. Damn he was a tough one to crack today. But you knew he couldn’t resist you for very long, even if today was the worst day of his life, he always came around for you. Always.

Upon not getting a verbal response, you leaned further into him and began to trail a few quick kisses on the side of his head, to which he scoffed and scooted away from. “Come on woman, m’ not in the mood.” he grumbled as he finally looked up from the floor.

“He speaks.” you said as you raised your hands up in victory, your actions causing him to scoff with a roll of his eyes. Acting as if you were the dramatic one here. “What happened?” you asked with a tilted head.

He blew out a breath of air, “Nothin.”

“Mhm…” you trailed off sarcastically with a nod, “Nothing…”

He was silent for a long moment, nearly minutes passing by, before he blew another harsh breath out as he leaned back against the couch. “We lost all those damn supplies on that run we took today, walkers just came outta nowhere and we didn’t have time to stick around. Negan’s getting on my fuckin nerves all the damn time, spittin out the same bullshit I’ve heard a hundred fuckin times before. And my bike broke down on the way back, don’t even know if I can fix it.”

If someone was looking at this from an outside perspective, seeing the amount he just unleashed while you sat there with a small smile on your face, their jaw would probably be on the floor. How you hardly reacted at all, how he was so harsh with the way he spoke, you were sure it would look questionable to anyone who didn’t truly know the two of you, or your dynamic. But the truth was, you had heard this similar song and dance about a hundred different times before, knowing he just needed to get everything off his chest and blow off some steam. And you knew after saying it all out loud, along with a little comfort, he would see that everything would be alright in the end.

Your lip stuck out in a pout as you looked at him, “Oh, my poor baby.” you said dramatically as you pulled him back into you, placing your lips on his cheek to kiss him there multiple times as he let out a heavy and annoyed sigh.

“Stop.” he protested, yet made no attempts to pull away from your affection. In fact, you swore you almost felt him lean in further.

You giggled against his skin as you pulled away far enough to look him in the eye, “I’m sorry you had a rough day.” you spoke seriously now as you stroked the side of his face, “But it’ll be okay…everything will work itself out.”

He scoffed quietly at your words, “Ya always say that.”

“And I’m always right.” you said as you leaned in to place another kiss on his cheek, “Remember when you came back from a hunt that one time with nothing, and you were all grumpy about it? What happened the next day?”

He glanced over to you for a few moments before letting out a soft sigh, “Found three deers…” he grumbled.

“Right.” you said as you moved to give his arm a soft squeeze, “You worry way too much over this kind of stuff, just breathe. Relax. It’s all going to be fine.”

His expression softened drastically after you talked to him, kind and gentle as always, wordlessly leaning into you and wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging you tight. You laughed lightly as you hugged him back, stroking the back of his hair soothingly as you felt him exhale deeply. Taking a breath like you advised.

“M’ sorry.” he muttered suddenly after a few moments of silence.

Your brows furrowed a little in confusion, “For what, honey?”

“For dumpin this shit on ya all the time…” he clarified as he squeezed you tighter, “Ya don’t deserve that…hearin me bitch-”

“Hey.” you cut him off as you pulled away, taking his face in your hands, “That’s what I’m here for, to listen. I’m honored to be the one you go to when you need to rant about something, and I’m even more honored that I’m the one who gets to make you feel better. That’s certainly not something to be sorry for, okay?”

His lip turned up in a small smile as he took your hands from his face, kissing your palm lightly as he looked at you with soft eyes, “I don’t deserve ya.”

You shushed him instantly with a shake of your head, “Yes you do.” you assured, before your mind trailed off a little in realization which caused a small smile to form on your face, “But…I do think I have something else that’ll make you feel better. Maybe even better than I can.”

He scoffed with a growing smile, “Well, I highly doubt that…but go on…” he said as his interest clearly piqued.

“Well…I just so happen to have some brownie batter in the kitchen with your name on it.” you said as you raised your eyebrows.

His eyes widened the smallest bit in clear excitement before glancing out the doorway, clearly itching to rush into the kitchen now, “Ya haven’t even baked em yet..?”

You shook your head with a smile, “Nope…I’ll even let you lick the spoon.” you said, knowing that was his favorite part.

His smile only grew then as there seemed to be a sparkle in his eye, like a kid in a giant candy store. The two of you then ventured back toward the kitchen where the music was still playing softly, getting the batter ready to be put into the pan to bake. But of course, he took the spoon from you almost instantly when you were done using it, licking the entire thing completely clean as if he couldn’t get enough. Though he felt he had to tease you just a little bit, taking a small dollop from the utensil on his finger before bringing it to the tip of your nose with a “boop.” 

You knew then and there that his mind was far from the events earlier that day, now enjoying his time he had with you as he looked at you as if you were a bright ball of sunshine after a rainy day. The sunshine that he desperately needed in his life.

But then the time came. The oven had beeped and you had pulled the brownies out of the oven to cool before cutting them, topping it off with some powdered sugar before your taste tester gave his honest feedback. He took a corner piece, which were his favorite, and took a large bite of the chocolate goodness while you looked at him in anticipation.

“Well..?” 

He said nothing, his eyes rolled back and a groan left his lips as he savored the sweetness on his tongue, and that was the only answer you needed. You smiled brightly as you clapped to yourself, his signs of approval proving that you were only getting better with the hobby you loved to do.

“Dunno how ya do it,” he commented before shoving the rest of the brownie in his mouth, “They just get better and better.” he said with his mouth full.

You smiled proudly as you began to grab a piece for yourself, “Well it’s a good thing I have my taste tester to give me all the feedback I need.”

Normally he would roll his eyes at the continuous nickname you bestowed upon him, but not today. He only smiled with a nod, bringing you in to leave a dramatic kiss on your cheek, pulling away with a loud “muah.”

“I’ll always be here ta taste whatever ya want sunshine.” he promised. 

And you believed him completely.

~ Thanks for reading!

[doumadono]

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

♡ Dabi ♡

Dabi, maintaining his usual nonchalant demeanor, brushes off Valentine's Day as insignificant. "It's just another day," he grumbles when you inquire about plans, his gaze fixed on something distant.

Despite his indifference towards the holidays of any kind, Dabi ensures that you feel loved every day. He might not express it verbally, but through his actions, like a gentle touch or a shared glance, he conveys his affection.

Dabi, surprisingly in touch with emotions, recognizes that you might have different expectations for Valentine's Day. "I get it, you want some romantic crap. Fine," he reluctantly admits, acknowledging the importance it holds for you.

Instead of traditional gifts, Dabi puts thought into finding something unique that resonates with you. It could be a rare book, a piece of artwork, or an item related to your hobbies. "I figured you'd like this better than some cliché crap, doll," he remarks.

During the day, Dabi might express his affection in subtle ways. A brush of his fingers against yours, a lingering glance, a warm hug, a rare smile or a shared cigarette.

Dabi, not one for grand gestures, suggests spending quality time together. "We can do whatever you want."

Dabi prefers low-key activities, so he suggests a casual day out rather than an extravagant date. It could be a stroll through a less crowded part of town or a visit to a place that holds personal significance.

Dabi values private moments over public displays of affection. He might pull you aside for a quiet conversation or a shared moment away from prying eyes, kissing you passionatelly in an alley after picking the order from your favourite restaurant.

In the evening, Dabi might create a quiet, intimate atmosphere. He pulls you close, whispering, "I'm not good with words, but you know what you mean to me, right?" His actions speak louder than any declaration.

The evening is peaceful, just the two of you, enjoying each other's company without the need for excessive words.

♡ Shigaraki ♡

Shigaraki openly expresses his disdain for Valentine's Day, dismissing it as a celebration that glorifies something horrific. "It's just a stupid, commercialized excuse to sell crap. I don't get the hype," he grumbles.

Despite his aversion, when he notices your excitement for the occasion, Shigaraki chooses to bite his tongue.

In a rare show of consideration, Shigaraki instructs Kurogiri to order a bouquet of your favorite flowers from the local florist. This act of embracing the holiday, even reluctantly, is his way of showing that he cares about your happiness.

"I don't get why people like this crap, but if it makes you happy, I'm willing to change my mind."

Shigaraki, true to his personality, prefers a minimalist celebration. Instead of grand gestures, he might suggest a quiet evening or a simple dinner, keeping the focus on the two of you without succumbing to excessive sentimentality.

He ensures that all the League of Villains members are assigned unexpected additional missions, even though they may express their discontent. Shigaraki wants to spend this day with you only.

As the day progresses, Shigaraki might quietly observe your joy. "You better appreciate this. I don't do this for just anyone," he remarks, a hint of satisfaction in his tone, showing that your happiness matters to him.

For the evening, Shigaraki proposes an anti-romantic movie night, selecting films that defy typical romantic clichés. "None of that sappy stuff. Let's watch something that doesn't make my teeth hurt," he suggests.

As you drift into slumber nestled in his embrace, he delicately traces patterns on your back with his pinky cautiously elevated to prevent any accidental decay. "I love you, little Y/N," he whispers, even though he's well aware that you're already lost in the realm of dreams.

♡ Bakugo ♡

Valentine's Day, according to Bakugo, is a bothersome and superficial affair, hiding behind a facade of fake sentimentality. Ranting about the superficiality of the day, Katsuki loudly declares, "I don't need some capitalist crap to tell me when to appreciate someone, tsk!"

"It's a dumb day. Why should I care?" Initially dismissing the idea of celebrating, he flaunted his lack of interest until the sight of your disappointment shattered his nonchalant façade.

Experiencing a pang in his chest, he noticed your lower lip trembling as you tried to assure him that you didn't need to participate. Even though he often expressed his emotions through actions, he couldn't shake the feeling that this time might be different.

With a resigned sigh, he swallows his pride, extending a genuine apology. He confesses to a change of heart, "Look, I changed my damn mind. No harm in spending time together or making this stupid day special, I guess. You're important or whatever."

Bakugo, true to himself, plans unconventional celebration. "If we're gonna do this, we'll do it my goddamn way. Tsk, I heard there's a place with those damn fluffy dogs. Don't get any ideas, I just thought it might be amusing or something," he grumbles, leading you to a Shiba cafe.

Bakugo finds himself in a rare, awkward position as one of the dogs playfully jumps on him. "Stupid mutt, get off!" he protests, but you catch a fleeting, embarrassed smile as he secretly enjoys the canine attention.

As you both sip coffee surrounded by Shiba Inu companions, Bakugo, unaccustomed to public displays of affection, reaches for your hand under the table and rubs its top with his thumb while drinking his espresso.

The sheer joy on Bakugo's face as a Shiba snuggles against him is a sight to behold. He attempts to hide it with a dismissive comment, "They're just damn dogs, but whatever, they're kinda cute, I guess."

Upon arriving home, Bakugo could catch you off guard by presenting a dessert skillfully shaped like a heart. "It's stupid, but fine. You better eat it," he grumbles, a touch of pride in his eyes surfacing as you commend his cooking prowess.

As the day draws to a close, Bakugo may catch you off guard with an unforeseen tender moment – enfolding you in his sturdy arms, drawing you snugly against his robust chest. He gently massages your shoulders and plants affectionate kisses on your face. "I love you, Y/N. Make sure you never forget that," he declares, his words carrying a sincerity that transcends his usual gruff demeanor.

♡ Shoto ♡

While Shoto may come across as indifferent to Valentine's Day, the truth is, he's like a child eagerly anticipating a visit to a candy store, envisioning a day filled with profound love shared with you.

Shoto brims with an unusual level of excitement, eager to shower you with pampering and spoils. While he typically engages in such gestures, this time, he has elaborate plans under wraps – surprises that would catch you off guard and leave you pleasantly astonished.

On Valentine's morning, you wake up to the irresistible aroma of a homemade breakfast. Shoto, armed with a chef's apron, presents a heart-shaped feast, each dish crafted with precision and love. As you enter the kitchen, he greets you with a warm smile, "Happy Valentine's Day. This is just the beginning."

Throughout the day, you discover tiny love notes strategically placed in unexpected corners. Each note holds sweet affirmations, showcasing Shoto's meticulous effort to sprinkle your day with joy.

In a quiet moment, Shoto presents you with a carefully crafted, handmade gift. It could be a piece of art, a personalized item, or something that holds sentimental value. He shyly admits, "I wanted to make something special for you. I hope you like it."

Unbeknownst to you, Shoto unveils a surprise date that surpasses all expectations. "I thought we could spend the day doing things you enjoy. It's all about making you happy." From a tranquil picnic in the park to a spontaneous dance under the stars, every moment is curated to create lasting memories.

Upon returning home, as evening approaches, Shoto unveils a cozy haven, complete with blankets and your favorite snacks. The ambiance exudes warmth, inviting you to unwind and revel in the tranquility of your shared love.

The day concludes with a handwritten love poem, penned by Shoto himself. Each line is an eloquent expression of his feelings, capturing the nuances of your connection in words as sweet as the love that binds you.

Before you retire for the night, Shoto pulls you into a gentle embrace. "Thank you for being with me. Happy Valentine's Day," he whispers, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

♡ Hawks ♡

Upon waking up on Valentine's Day, you're greeted with a pile of gifts neatly arranged beside the bed. Hawks, unable to contain his excitement, watches for your reaction with a grin. "Happy Valentine's Day, babe. Open them up!"

Hawks takes Valentine's Day as the ultimate opportunity to showcase his love. From breakfast in bed to surprise outings, he plans an entire day filled with over-the-top affectionate gestures. "Get ready for a day all about you, songbird."

Hawks, with his love language being gift-giving, meticulously selects each present. "I thought of everything you might like. You're worth it," he mentions as you uncover thoughtful and personalized gifts.

The day unfolds with whimsical adventures – perhaps a surprise trip to an amusement park or an impromptu picnic. Hawks is determined to make the day unforgettable.

Throughout the day, Hawks showers you with unexpected compliments. "You know, you're the best thing that ever happened to me," he confesses.

As the day progresses, Hawks concludes with a romantic dinner, whether it's a home-cooked meal or a reservation at a fancy restaurant. "To us and many more Valentine's Days to come," he toasts, a warmth in his golden eyes.

As the day comes to a close, Hawks proposes the idea of late-night stargazing. Draped in blankets, both of you settle on the spacious balcony of his apartment. Hawks, pointing out constellations, weaves stories of the night sky. "Just us and the stars. Can't beat a moment like this, huh?"

As the day winds down, Hawks might surprise you with a midnight snack. "Can't end the day on an empty stomach. Here, your favorite, babybird," he says, presenting a thoughtful treat.

As you both drift into a peaceful slumber wrapped in each other's arms, Keigo can't help but revel in the profound happiness that washes over him. Having found the love of his life, he's determined to cherish this precious connection on a daily basis, not just during Valentine's Day.

[thatpinkbetch]

I don't give a fuck if Valentine's Day is over.

I wrote this after going back to look at this beautiful piece by herbarimoon one too many times :)

AU where cupids are angels that are given human assignments to help them fall in love, and Midoriya's first case is Bakugou Katsuki.

As if finding someone for this difficult human to fall in love with wasn't hard enough, it just had to be the one Midoriya had a soft spot for. As a fledgling angel, he loved to watch humans from above the clouds, but his favorite of all was the bratty blonde man that secretly feeds his scraps to kittens in alleyways and strives to be the best at everything he does.

Midoriya wants to find the perfect partner for this man. He searches high and low, until he's found him! Someone that could love his beloved human enough, and someone his human could love in return. And yet, when push comes to shove, and it's time to fire, he messes up the shot and the arrow gets lodged into Bakugou's heart. For it to work, the arrow has to shoot through his chest. What's even worse is, with this magic love arrow stuck in his heart, Bakugou can now see Midoriya, and the other cupids. And he's fucking pissed.

"Are you kidding me? You had one fucking job and you can't even do that right? You stupid fucking Deku!"

Midoriya promises that he will fix this. He looks for the man that he planned to be Bakugou's partner, but he can't find him anymore! Where did he go?

Meanwhile, Bakugou's upset as all hell. What the fuck is this? Is this fucking real? No way in hell is he going to be set up to fall in love. If he's going to fall in love, it will be because he chooses the fucker. Midoriya has to drag him kicking and screaming to find his future partner. People stare after him likes he's crazy, since they can't see the angel holding his wrist and pulling him along.

Try as he might, Midoriya can't find the perfect match again. Well... They'd have to keep trying. What a mess he's gotten himself into.

Bakugou doesn't fucking know what to do. This fuck ass angel keeps following him around, into his home, to his work, hovering over him worried and shit. And on top of that, he's got this arrow sticking out of him. He won't admit it to the idiot, but it hurts. It hurts to put his clothes on, even though the arrow phases through them. It hurts when he wasn't even thinking about it, a dull throbbing in his chest. Because obviously it would hurt to have something stuck in your heart. But fuck that bastard. He doesn't have to know shit about him. Like hell he'd fall in love with whatever random fucker Deku assigned to him. He can deal. He can figure his own way out of this. Apparently they can't just pull out the arrow, otherwise his heart might be damaged beyond repair - meaning he won't be able to fall in love afterwards. He doesn't actually believe that; not until he tries to tug on it at night when the angel is sleeping on his couch and it hurts like a motherfucker.

Fine, okay, this is going to take some time. He just doesn't really get why... There's this nagging sensation in the back of his mind... Why there is something familiar about this angel guy...

Shenanigans ensue. Obviously. Bakugou looks kind of strange half the time, sometimes talking to someone that isn't there. But it's only when he goes to his parents house for something or other, and he sees a picture of himself from childhood. There, beside him, his old friend who drowned in the river when they were kids. It looks just like this fucker that's been harassing him and sleeping on his couch and consuming all of his sweets because even though he doesn't need them, he still has a sweet tooth (and, well, Bakugou could speak up more if it really pissed him off...)

That night he shows Midoriya the picture, and Midoriya is stunned. That is him. Truly. But...he doesn't remember that. It's kind of freaky. Bakugou can tell that it freaks him out, too. And that's when he starts to suspect.

When Midoriya sleeps that night, he dreams of being a child, of playing with his best friend. His best friend, who is the coolest in the whole world, the strongest, the bravest. Going out to play one day when it's raining and his friend... Ka... Ka... His friend stayed home that day. And he slips on the log they used to cross all the time and plummets to the waters below... It's dark, and so, so cold...

He wakes up with a gasp and a splitting headache. Midoriya tries to recall his earliest memory, but the further back he goes, the foggier it gets. No one can really remember their first day alive, their beginning, can they? But he remembers the heavens, a life that feels so long ago, though its only been weeks. He was a bit of an outcast up there, longing constantly for the humans, for one in particular...

That morning, Bakugou studies him silently, but doesn't speak, which is fine, because Midoriya doesn't feel like speaking, either.

They're in that same park, the one where Bakugou first saw him. They're sitting on the bench together, strangely silent. Normally they bicker; Midoriya points out people and asks Bakugou about them, if he's interested, and Bakugou proceeds to tell him all the ways he hates them. Why Bakugou always agreed to sit with him and watch, he could not explain. But today, Midoriya is quietly focused.

Suddenly, he shoots up and grabs Bakugou's hand, pulling him along. There! There he is! The man Midoriya paired him with originally. And Bakugou finally gets a good look at him. Crap! He's his type... He looks at Midorya's excited face, seeing the cupid looking only at their target, and Bakugou frowns. Yeah, okay, maybe he kind of gets Bakugou after all.

"Keep your eyes on him!"

Bakugou digs his heels into the ground.

"The hell is that? You think I could fall for somebody like that? Look at his shitty hair! He looks like an idiot!"

Midoriya stares at him, the excitement slowly draining from his face until he is crestfallen. Oh well. Looks like stupid Deku is going to have to take the time to find him someone else. Shame.

Before either of them can say anymore, Bakugou's face crumples in pain, and he falls to his knees. He hadn't wanted to tell the angel about his pain, but it was getting worse as time went on. He was pretty damn good at ignoring it, but it floods his chest right then, along with a bunch of regrets he'd been holding back for longer than he could remember.

Midoriya follows him down, panicking now. How could he have not noticed! Of course Bakugou would have been in pain this whole time. Humans can't handle long exposure to magic like that, and this arrow had been pumping him full of it for a month now! How he had lasted this long was a miracle already, but he'd never complained, so Midoriya never realized...

"Kacchan, Kacchan please-" where had that name come from? "Please, tell me, just tell me someone-" he looks around at the people in the park, some looking curiously at the man crouching, but Bakugou grips his wrist and holds his gaze.

"Dumbass..." He croaks out. "I don't want anybody else." Then he falls onto his back and the crowd around them gasps. There's screams and calls for an ambulance, but Midoriya is too shocked to notice the commotion. Anybody else...

There are tears in his eyes that he doesn't even feel as he straddles Bakugou. Nobody can see him, or the arrow sticking out of the fallen man's chest. So they can't see it when Midoriya, with his determined gaze, places his hands around the end of the shaft, looking down into Bakugou's eyes, so open and revealing, and he pushes down.

The sound Bakugou makes hurts his own heart, but he doesn't stop. He pushes the arrow through him, slowly, steadily, watching Bakugou gasp and cry, and then reach up and hold his hands and guide them in while he looks directly at Midoriya.

It was his own fault this was painful. If he'd just shot straight, it would've gone clean through. But perhaps there was a part of him that hadn't wanted that shot to work out. A part that had betrayed his trained accuracy. As he holds Bakugou's pained gaze, he takes full responsibility for it, pushing the arrow through and soaking in every wince and tear. He embraces his own selfishness; he wants this heart for his own.

When it's through, they both gasp. The arrow disappeared. And Bakugou... Well, aside from the deep, heaving breaths, and the tears he's blinking away, he looks just like normal. When he sits up, that's when Midoriya notices the crowd around them. And for some reason, they seem to be staring at him.

"Idiot." He looks at the sound of Bakugou's voice and sees him smirking at him. "They can see you now, Izuku."

Midoriya never told him that name. Midoriya hadn't known it himself. But the second Bakugou gives it to him, he feels it fit like a glove. The people around them murmur, saying, "He saved him, thank god..."

Midoriya doesn't know what they saw, or what they think they saw, but he knows what they're about to see. He dives forward and kisses the man beneath him still, and Bakugou holds the back of his neck as he lets him.

He never regains the memories from his childhood - those were swept away by the river. But his heart could never forget. He always wondered if that arrow ever actually worked - nothing feels any different between them. Kacchan loves him just the same.

Though, there is one thing that changes. He's human now (again) his powers stripped from him for falling in love with an assignment. Maybe it's for the best. He was never really good at this cupid business anyway.

[kingqueensoobscene]

hear me out hear me out Lil’ Pootis BLU Scout but with like a nice partner, someone who’s like really nice and sweet and it’s a personality difference for the two but they get along so well!!

WOOO YOUR GIRL IS BACK!!!!!!! I’ve been so busy, but now I’m slowly getting back to it. Don’t guarantee anything ;3 this was such a cute ask!!

LIL POOTIS!BLU!SCOUT X A KIND READER

-Ok, so, Spy is definitely going to say to his son how he can’t make fun of his marriage to Engineer because Scout just found someone who is the total opposite of him as well. You two are pretty much like Spy and Engineer, Scout just hates to admit it.

-You are a rock to Scout. Being on the Blu team is rough in the first place since they’re on the short end of the stick and they get roughed up more than they win. Even if you are apart of this mess as a fellow mercenary, it is a shock how you managed to find a balance with your emotions. None of them have had a good day since they got assigned to payloads for the week, so you’re a good presence to have around. Always helping out, making jokes, distracting the others. 

-Which is why they were shocked when you started dating the Scout. It wasn’t an issue, you were on the same team. It was just a surprise to everyone else. Sure, you stood out in the cold with him when he was told to quit smoking indoors (though, him and Sniper still did on occasion), he gave you pointers on that rifle of yours and he was always asking where you were. But it didn’t seem that serious. No one really cared, everyone does their own thing. It’s still a shock though. 

-It’s best when you two are on the field together. He runs through the line of sight so you can sneak your way to the control point without even a cut. He doesn’t ever want you to get needlessly hurt on the field, even though you are a trained killer. So, he just goes before you get the chance. He was always taught you look out for those you care about (Thanks Spy). If you’re quicker than him, he will just run past you. Either way, you’re not getting shot. You will respawn either way, but he does not care. 

-Spy and Engineer are happy about your relationship. More Engineer than Spy. Del wants Scout to be closer with him, so he comes extra supportive. Even before you and Scout dated, Engie was always kind back to you. He is always waving at you with a smile after his entry shot the enemy Demoman. Spy will always remind Scout to treat your kindness back and to not take advantage of it. To always take you out to a nice place or buy you that thing you have been talking about as your birthday gets closer. Scout is not a very selfish guy, he has proven that to you before, though Spy worries. 

-Speaking of, any time you two go out, Scout will assume you want to do something fancy. If there is anything his dad has taught him, it’s that you do overly romantic things. If you hate going out to eat or you don’t have anything nice to wear, just tell him. He’s fine with just going to the corner store and getting some snacks. At least, he cleans up well and owns at least 2 two-pieces. He hates slicking his hair back though because you can see how far back his hairline has become.

-If you tell him straightforwardly how handsome you think he is, he gets super cocky. Like the “I know, thank you.” kind of way. Especially if you compliment his form. He has been working out for a couple years since joining his dad, he knows the progress he has made and how in shape he is. You do not even have to tell him, he knows you do. But once in a while, he will do something stupid like do a pull up on a random, low hanging pipe in the hallway to   impress you. If you’re the type of person to go crazy with compliments, he looks like he does not care. That is until he can’t help but smirk and say, “You’re alright.” before laughing and giving you a kiss on your hand to apologize. 

-By the way, he loves hand kisses. Not even in the romantic way. He will shake your hand limply and then kiss you with a big “Mwah!” and start laughing at how cringe that was.

-Since the days rotate on who is going out on the missions, you two have days where you don’t see each other. He will get home with his nose red and his clothes damp from the blowing, snowy winds outside and he just lays next to you on your shared bed, reading until you hug him at his side and kiss his shoulder. PDA isn’t a big thing to him. I mean, you’re with him, aren’t you? Everyone knows you two are in a established relationship that does not violate the Administrator’s rules, so why not show off a little? An arm will be wrapped around your back and the magazine on his lap. 

-Sometimes, he likes the silence when he comes back into the base. Of course, you know this too. As previously mentioned in my other post with the Lil Pootis Scouts, Blu Scout likes to go to the boiler room where the heaters and generators lie to get some privacy and warm up. It’s sort of hard to hide that you two cuddle in there, not that anyone goes there anyways, so eventually everyone found out. Though, if you are a girl, I would say Miss Pauling would allow you your own private room as a courtesy, so the others would only notice Scout’s absence and assume he disappeared to have a smoke. 

-If you’re a persistent person who will do anything for someone, you have absolutely gone outside with Scout while he was smoking. Spy has scolded him more than once, so now he has to make a habit of it. He hates when you come with him as he does not want you to get cold, but he knows you are stubborn. It’s not the company he minds, rather that you are withstanding the cold and the smell of cigarettes to be with him. He thinks you are the most thoughtful person ever for even bringing his lighter that he forgot or brought him some hot chocolate. Often, the other mercenaries catch you two chatting by the water tunnel while you rambled on to Scout about your day. 

Wafting against the cold, the flame kissed the tip of the cigarette and burned bright. The silver box shut at the pressure of your thumb and you put away his lighter. Grey puffs floated across the frozen air and danced with the deep shades of a painted blue and speckles of white. Your head against his falling shoulder. His hand at your right side, rubbing along your coat. He dragged his cigarette and blew away from you. Then he smiled. A soft smile that few could see. Sure, he was always smiling, but not like this. You are the person he wants to smile this way to. Because you are the person that melts him down, that makes him warm to the touch and wear down the usual tense. Overwhelmed, he did not like you when you first met as trainees. You would not last, he thought. You were too much. You did not shut up, you were too nice, you would be knocked before you could speak another word in no time. Sometimes, he looks back at his young self and wants smack him silly. Someone compassionate, someone who balanced out his mellow wanted to be his friend. Before he was good at what he did, before he got stronger and better at everything, you liked him.

Now, you are out in the cold with your shivering spine and twitching head. Eyes rolled and he’s off the boulder. It was freezing for you, you should warm up. But you had his lighter. And you kept your hands in your pockets. Unamused eyes looked at you as he prodded you to hand it over. You only backed up and smiled. He only got more demanding and he moved closer. You shook your head and giggled. A sigh comes from him. Then he pulls off his scarf and moves up to wrap it around. 

Now you felt a little bad. Smoke blew again. He smirked. A hand on your chin and your lips on his. Something sweet, then bitter. Ash was not a pleasant taste. And he knew it. 

[brotherwtf]

I submit this and humbly request your imagination of a scenario

wait wait this got me thinking about frat boy/preppy Gale, someone who's a little shit kind of like how Gale is in canon, quick one liners to easily make fun of people all while looking so innocent

John who's kind of shy, doesn't really talk to people and keeps to himself, but he opens up more with his friends, some sort of tutor and that's why he's always in the library when Gale finds him

Gale's failing english, point blank period, and he needs to save his grade or he's going to get kicked out of his frat, so he finds John in the library and asks for his help.

and John's nervous because he has a couple of classes with Gale, knows he can be outright cruel if he wants to be, knows he has a beautiful girl on his arm, so he hates himself even more when he gets those stupid teenage butterflies in his stomach whenever he sees Gale, all cleaned up and proper and Johns already so far gone

but Gale's a sweetheart, always kind and quiet with John and while he sometimes teases him it's all in good fun, and Johns always a blushing mess whenever Gale sits next to him and he almost can't concentrate on the assignment they're working on

sometimes Marge will tag along, offer up some unhelpful commentary, maybe she mentions something about Johns glasses "they do nothing for your face, hun" and when Gale gives her a look she feigns innocence "what? I'm just stating the obvious," and Johns up and leaving, trying not to look behind him and have his heart broken again

the next time John meets with Gale he wears his contacts, he almost doesn't recognize himself in the mirror but maybe Marge was right, maybe they were the problem, and he hates to admit that he wants Gale to like him the way he likes her

and when Gale sees him he looks confused, like he's trying to place something until he asks "where are you glasses, John?"

"I decided to wear contacts, Marge was right they're not doing anything for me" John shrugs and Gale furrows his eyebrows together

"I thought your glasses made you look cute," and OOPS John's a fucking goner because now he can't talk and he's rendered speechless and Gales acting like nothing even happened as he very casually pulls out his book and waits for John to get his wits together so he can actually be doing what he's supposed to

and it keeps going on like this "that sweater makes you look cute" "I really like those pants Bucky" "did you do something different with your hair? it looks good" all while John is secretly telling him to shut up because he can't handle all of the compliments lest Gale wants him to pass away from all of the compliments

Gale says one day that he broke up with Marge, couldn't handle her negativity, says he likes how positive John is, and then it's quiet for a moment, Gale fiddling with the pages of his book, and Johns freaking out before Gale just kisses him on the cheek, smiles with the faintest blush and runs out of the library before John can even say anything

he texts Gale after, asks if everything's all right, and Gale doesn't respond, doesn't respond for a couple of days and John worries that their friendship is ruined, blames himself for all of it even though Gale technically kissed him first

he's walking back to his dorm one night when he hears someone call his name, and he turns to find Gale running after him, panting and looking like he just ran across campus

"John, I'm really sorry, but I gotta tell you something. I like you, like I like you a lot, and I'm sorry if kissing you fucked up our friendship, you don't ever have to talk to me again, I just felt like I had to say something before you left," Gale confesses, and it's like John was hit with a fire hose

and he can't quite help himself, doesnt know what happened or what came over him, but he grabs Gale's face and kisses him, almost desperately, and he can feel Gale smile into the kiss, hates but doesn't hate how much he loves how it feels to finally kiss him, after so many hours of quietly watching him, it feels so good

anyway I have this sweet hc where Gale just lifts John's glasses whenever he wants to smush his face against John's, pulls them off so he can sloppily make out with him and I just think that's neat :))

[mrsparrasblog]

All too well

The first chapter to this post

TW: Angst

Despite the popular disbelief of your friends, military school was never easy for you. Of course, you had the greatest test scores most of the time, but what use were they when no one believed you achieved them? Being the only girl in class sucked; most of your classmates believed you were basically a prostitute, giving the teacher head so you would pass, which couldn't be further from the truth. You were still a virgin. Okay, it’s normal at 18, or isn’t it? You didn’t know. The people who didn’t believe you were pleasing the teacher under the table thought the teacher favored you since you were a girl.

They thought the military was too hard for you to pass and the teachers knew soldiers needed eye candy on the field. All idiots. The only man in your class who wasn’t full of patriarchal disbelief was Jonathan William Price, but though he may have seen you as someone who didn’t fuck around for good grades, he hated you. You didn’t know why at first, but after some time, the hate went both ways. He fought against you harder than against the others. He teased you and made you feel like you weren’t good enough even though you were better than him most of the time. He still won against you a few times, which sat sour in your eyes.

This was your last year, and after that, you’d be in the real field where prejudice didn’t have a place. There, they would only see your strength - only one year left. You sat in the front row of the yellow classroom, waiting for the new term to start and to get your tasks and assignments for the following months. Jonathan walked past you with his dumb, shit-eating grin.

“Still didn’t quit, love?”

“Still an idiot, I see.”

“You love it, don’t you?”

“In your dreams,” you rolled your eyes at him and tried to ignore his annoying, insufferable personality. Sometimes ignoring him didn’t help, even complaining to your friends: “Boys will be boys.” God, how you hated that sentence. There was only one thing you hated more than that, and it was him.

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

“You missed something, love,” he pointed at the mannequin with a bullet hole in the stomach instead of the heart.

“Shut up or I’ll use you as a mannequin next.”

“With your aim, I have nothing to worry about.”

“Go away, Price.”

“Let me show you how,” he walked behind you, his hips pressed against you as he corrected your stance. And indeed, after the correction, you hit the target perfectly.

“That has nothing to do with you.”

“I think a thank you is in order.” Stupid idiot with his cocky smile and replies, and his stupid beautiful eyes.

“I’d rather die than say thank you to you.”

“Ouch, kitten has claws.”

“If you call me kitten again, I’ll kill you.”

“As if you were able to, little missy.”

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

“Guess we’re working together on this.”

“I won’t work with you, Jonathan Price.”

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

Stuck in a safe house for a week, you got close to each other. He wasn’t that prick you believed him to be; he was actually nice and kind of funny.

“Can you call me John?”

“Why?”

“I hate being called Jonathan, even worse, William.”

“Everyone calls you that.”

“And I hate it,” he admitted.

“Can I ask why?”

“My dad chose this name. Mum always called me John, but Dad insisted on calling me Jonathan. William is actually my dad’s name.”

“Not a good relationship with your dad?”

“Hate that bastard. Never cared about me or Mum, only about the military.”

“I get that.”

“Your old man is shit too?”

“Never wanted a girl, didn’t even talk to me when I was a kid.”

He poured a glass of whiskey for both of us. “We won’t turn out like them.”

“We won’t.”

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

When you heard he needed to face disciplinary actions, you couldn’t believe it. John never did anything against the rules, well, not since high school.

“What did you do?”

“Stupid muppet deserved it.”

“Why?”

“Told everyone you slept with Sergeant Filch.”

“John, I’m a big girl. I can protect myself.”

“And what if I don’t want you to have to protect yourself?”

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

“What do you mean you’re still a virgin?”

“I said you’re not allowed to make fun of this, John.”

“I’m not laughing, just surprised. You know, you look beautiful. Just thought a lucky bloke already swept you off your feet.”

“No lucky bloke even tried.”

“Do you want to lose your virginity?”

“John.”

“I said, do you want to lose it?”

“Yes.”

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

“Do you believe in soulmates, John?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you think we are soulmates in every universe?”

“Can’t think of a version of me who doesn’t fall in love with you.”

“You love me?”

“Of course, love.”

“I love you too.”

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

“What do you want, Dad?”

“There is only one place in the SAS for this class. Don’t disappoint me, Jonathan.”

“I won’t disappoint you.”

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

“John, can you imagine we will both be in the SAS after the test tomorrow? We are basically a power couple, like Bonnie and Clyde, just as good people.”

“You think we will still be together in the SAS?”

“Of course, I love you.”

“I don’t love you.”

“What?” You laughed awkwardly. He must be joking, one of his stupid jokes again.

“I said I don’t love you.”

“But you said yesterday that you love me.”

“Are you really that stupid?”

“John.”

“Your own dad couldn’t love you, what made you believe that I did?”

Your heart shattered into a million pieces. You tried hard to hold your tears together. “John, you’re being mean.”

“And you’re being stupid for thinking you were more to me than a quick fuck.”

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

SAS Enlisting Test

Jonathan William Price: 150 points, accepted  

Y/N L/N: 149 points, accepted

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

“Love, you got in,” John screamed out of reflex, hugging you tight.

“What is wrong with you, John? Why do you hate me so much? Why do you act like this now and yesterday?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry you think that cuts it.”

“It’s not like you think it is. I love you, I just needed to get in. You don’t get it.”

“No, Jonathan, you don’t get to say that. You don’t get to tell me you love me. You’re not even capable of love.”

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

Nineteen years, two divorces, six bullet wounds, and a promotion to captain later, he still thought about you when the whiskey cleared his mind of any denial. Leaving you was one of his biggest mistakes in life. He wondered what happened to you. He never saw you after you joined the SAS. Maybe you’re a lieutenant, or maybe you quit the military and became a housewife, even though he didn’t believe that. You were too happy in the military; no man who really loved you would take that away from you.

He had half a mind to call Laswell, tell her about you, and ask what you were up to. But deep down, he knew you were probably dead. War had its price, and it took the good ones way too often. So he was happy living like this, in his delusion that you’re alive and just the one who got away. If he was honest, even if you were still alive, he didn’t want to see you. He knew it would destroy him to see you again with his hate-filled eyes.

He got an incoming call from Kate. Did she really need to distract him from his swimming in self-pity?

“Kate, what do you need?”

“Are you ready for the games?” Huh, Kate always complained that this was childish and never showed big interest, even when they always winked. He didn’t mind the games; he knew how they motivated Soap and Gaz, or how much Ghost loved showing off his skills. He hated attention, but showing a bunch of task forces how much better they were was a thing not even Ghost couldn’t resist.

“Yes, why?”

“You know the new colleague I complained about?”

“The idiot who calls himself Hades?” What a dumb call sign.

“His team attends too, and if he wins, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“What do I get if I sweep the floor with his team?”

“Davidoff Robusta, year 2016.”

“Deal.”

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

You sat in the comfiness of your chair, finishing the last bits of paperwork from the last mission to finally end the day and go to the pub with your girls. When suddenly your phone rang, the name Hades popped up and you knew the comfortable day with your girls would be over. He would send you to a hostage rescue or gather intel. As long as it wasn’t a mission in the fucking Arctic again, it’s fine.

“Hello, Hades,” you said sweetly on the telephone. Despite the annoying missions he sends you on, Hades is your best friend. You could never trust anyone more than him. He saved your ass way too often to keep count on it.

“Sorry to bother you, do you know about the military games?” Of course, you knew, how couldn’t you? But you never bothered; that’s a childish thing. You better use your resources for the real thing and not a fight between self-proclaimed alpha males who will tell your team you are just girls.

“Yes, why?”

“I told you about Kate.”

“The one who called you incompetent in front of everyone, how could I forget that?”

“She always brags about how her team wins, please.”

“Hades, these games are stupid.”

“John Price takes part.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that earlier? Count us in.”

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

Soap and Gaz bickered the whole day, while they put the tent up, while Ghost analyzed all the different teams, eagerly writing down every one of their strengths and weaknesses. While Price listened the whole day to Kate's complaints about Hades.

“None of them seem like a real threat, boss,” Ghost chimed proudly.

“Which of them is Hades' team?”

“He wanted to meet up here, act friendly, get to know their weaknesses, make them believe they’re superior.”

“What if they are really superior?” Gaz asked, earning a laugh from the whole team.

“We win every year, Garrick,” Soap replied.

“There he is.”

“Steamin’ Jesus, ye  dinnae tell us they’re fuckin’ hot, Laswell.”

“An all-girls squad?”

“I didn’t know,” Kate replied to Ghost.

John turned around wanting to know what the whole fuss was over, noticing the four girls walking over to them. In front of the group was their confident captain, and when he looked at the way-too-familiar face, he wanted to fucking drown himself in the Atlantic Ocean. “Fuckin’ hell.”

Taglist: @riddikulus-obsessions @cod-z @undercover-smutlover @werschitz

A/N : The first chapter is a lot of explaining the next one will be more fun hehe

[twst-aceofhearts]

Love Letter

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MIZUUUU <3333

tw: flustered epepe, not proofread TT

pairing: epel x gn!yuu (ft Vil and Rook at the end)

words: 1591

taglist: @luxaryllis @thegoldencontracts @waterthatsmoe

Epel has been admiring Yuu in secret ever since the both of them started their first year in NRC. It was a simple admiration at first. The way they managed to carry themself without having to worry about stupid rules set by a certain elegant housewarden…

Somehow, Epel found himself talking about them in front of Vil and Rook, still on the same mindset as “simple admiration.” Yet, when he looked at the duo, he felt dread course through his veins. Ah, shit.

That was how he was stuck with the task of writing a love letter to them. In Vil’s words, it would appear ‘elegant’ and befitting for a Pomefiore student.

“Stupid Vil…A love letter is so corny and feels cowardly…” Epel groans under his breath as he writes whatever comes in mind about Yuu. “I want to be manly! What’s so manly about a letter?”

He was in an empty classroom to have some peace and quiet (mostly to sulk). What he didn’t hear was the quiet footsteps that belonged to Yuu. Well, it wasn’t so quiet. He was just distracted. He physically jumped upon hearing their voice behind him.

“G-Gah! Where the…Where did you come from?!” His country accent almost slipped by, but he managed to catch it. It doesn’t help his reddening face as he scrambles to hide his paper, crinkling it in the process.

Yuu blinked twice, tilting their head slightly to the side before pointing out the papers. “Is that for Professor Trein’s assignment?”

“Ah…y-yeah! Epel lies, hoping they would buy it. It was kind of true? The papers were for…an assignment. Just not for Trein’s. Or, well, school in general. He couldn’t just admit he was writing a love letter now. “Sorry, I was finishing some...some…last minute revisions.”

He hides the papers under his arms, hoping they didn’t see anything actually written on them. That would be his death.

“...okay?” Yuu raised an eyebrow at his unsure tone, though thinking nothing of it. “Come on, then. You can finish studying with Jack, ADeuce and I back at Ramshackle.”

Yuu turned around before pausing, “...actually it’s more like trying not to goof off while doing homework…I mean, you get the point, right?”

“R-Right.”

Oh, he was so grateful they weren’t asking questions about what he was doing. He relaxes a bit, seeing their lack of interest. Thank Seven Yuu wasn’t nosy.

He puts on a somewhat neutral facial expression and stands up from his seat. With the paper hidden under his arms, he motions for Yuu to go out first. “Lead the way.”

Yuu smiled at him, making a teasing remark. “What a gentleman. Maybe Vil is helping after all.”

The mention of the Pomefiore housewarden annoyed Epel, but that isn’t what bothered him the most. Their words caused him to think back on the whole reason he was writing in the first place.

“Shut up. You’re making it sound like I was a total gremlin before that guy ‘fixed’ me,” Epel protested, his cheeks turning slightly red. He hoped Yuu wouldn’t notice the thing of color.

“I’m sure you were an amazing person, Ep. I mean, you still are,” Yuu chuckled, putting their hands in their pockets as they nonchalantly walked back to Ramshackle like nothing happened.

Hearing their compliment caused Epel to blink in surprise, caught off guard by the unexpected praise. His cheeks reddened even more as he mumbled a quiet, “thank you” under his breath. He followed Yuu in a slower pace, trying to act normal, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

He glances at them fromm the corner of his eye as they both continued to walk to Yuu’s dorm. He wondered if they noticed just how flustered he was…

The comfortable silence between the two continued as both of them kept walking. Epel’s mind however, was quite the opposite. It wasn’t silent at all.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that he was walking with them alone. It was like the world slowed down, and Yuu was the only thing he could focus on. He tried to calm down his racing heart, but it was no use.

Epel bit his lip, debating on whether to talk to them or not. Then, he thought about the love letter hidden in his arms.

“Hey…” He began, his voice quiet and uncertain.

“Hm?” Yuu slowed down their pace, matching with his.

“Can I ask you something…?” Epel’s question was tentative, almost nervous. He avoided looking directly at Yuu, his gaze moving to the ground instead.

“Shoot,” Yuu stopped in place, waiting for him to speak.

Epel stopped waking as well, feeling more nervous than he liked. He stood awkwardly beside them, still not looking directly at Yuu. He fumbled with the paper under his arm before finding his words.

“You…You won’t laugh at me,” He mumbled, his heartbeat quickening. He didn't want them to think less of him for his question.

“Huh? No, of course I won’t. I’m not Ace—you can trust me, Ep.”

Epel had to stop himself from snickering upon hearing Ace’s reference.

He finally looked at Yuu, his depression a little hopeful. “Y-you promise? You won’t laugh or make fun of me or anything?”

“I promise. Now tell me—you’re killing me here.”

Epel took a deep breath, his heart pounding loudly in his chest. He gathered his courage, finally speaking the question that had been weighing on his mind. “I was wondering if… if…”

He swallowed hard, struggling to say the words. His cheeks reddening even more, his nervousness taking over. He tried to control the sudden shakiness in his voice.

“If you’d want to… spend some time with me tomorrow. J-Just the two of us. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. I just…want to hang out with you.”

Yuu smiled, answering with a gentle voice. “Sure. I’ll meet you in the courtyard tomorrow after classes are over.”

Epel’s heart skipped a beat when Yuu agreed to spend time with him. He couldn’t believe it. They actually said yes! He tried not to show too much excitement, but his face betrayed him as a wide smile spread across his face.

“The courtyard, tomorrow after classes,” he repeated as if making sure he heard them right. “I’ll see you then.”

His heart seemed like it was about to burst from happiness. It was definitely going to be a long night for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Epel stood in the courtyard, his heart racing once again. He had a brand new love letter ( since Vil forced him to make a new one after seeing the original all crumpled) clutched tightly in his hands, replacing the old one from before. 

He shifted nervously on his feet as he looked around, waiting for Yuu to appear. He kepts his gaze on the ground, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach. Time seemed to slow down, making the wait even more excruciating…

“Hi, Epel. Sorry I’m late,” Yuu smiled as they approached.

As soon as he heard their familiar voice, Epel’s head snapped up to look at Yuu. His face brightened with a mix of relief and excitement.

“Hey! It’s…It’s no problem,” He gave Yuu a small, somewhat sheepish smile, his grip on the love letter tightening.

Silence settled between the two for a moment, Epel’s mind racing with thoughts about what to say or do next.

“...so…” Yuu started off, breaking the awkward yet somewhat comfortable silence. “What’s the paper for?”

As soon as the silence was broken by their question, Epel’s nerves returned in full force. He had to resist the urge to drop the love letter and run away. This was it. He had already come this far, no point in backing out now.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself, before finally holding out the letter towards Yuu.

“It’s a… a letter. For you,” He mentally facepalmed. So much for trying to remain calm and casual.

“Oh, thank you,” Yuu gently took the letter from him, opening it and mentally reading it.

As they took the letter from him, Epel’s heart pounded impossibly fast. He watched them intently, his entire body tense with anticipation. He had poured out his feelings into that letter, baring his heart on paper. Now, he could only hope they would understand and not think less of him.

His mind was a swirling mess of thoughts. What if Yuu didn’t like it? Or what if they laugh at him? He pushed those thoughts down, trying to calm himself and simply wait for their reaction.

Yuu looked back up at him, a small smile played on their lips and a faint blush on their cheeks. “This is really sweet of you, Epel.”

As Yuu looked up at him with that smile and the faintest hint of blush on their cheeks, Epel could almost cry from relief. He hadn’t expected Yuu to react so well. It was almost as if he could breathe again after holding his breath.

His heart swelled with with happiness. They didn’t make fun of him, they didn’t get annoyed at him. They found his letter…sweet.

He couldn’t help the slight blush that spread across his own face, trying to downplay it with a shrug. “Ah…it’s nothing special.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the two of them stood there talking, unbeknownst to either one, Vil and Rook were watching from a distance. They were hidden behind a tree, observing the interaction between Yuu and Epel. 

Vil smirked, his arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold. Rook stood beside him, an interested glint in his eyes.

credit to @cafekitsune for divider