#was thinking about this my entire work shift

[dcxdpdabbles]

I found and read this cute story on AO3, about Frostbite being Danny's legal parental guardian. In the story Bruce Wayne runs into Frostbite (in his full yeti glory no disguise) who is setting up for school bake sale. Got me thinking about what if Danny's past rogues took turns filling in and doing parental stuff especially at school functions. Like Frostbite does the bake sale, Pandora shows up for his games, Ghostwriter goes to all of the PTA meetings, Clockwork goes to teacher meetings, so on and so forth.

The 43rd Annual Gotham Academy Bake Sale by Faeriekit

Ohhh, that sounds good! I'll get it a read when I have some time. Thank you for the rec!

Danny Fenton is one of the lucky few who have a very involved household. His various family members would always sign up for any school event the boy needed support in. It didn't mean that the boy won everything, but as a teacher for nine years, Emily has come to learn how much it mattered to just have someone show up.

She had seen students whose entire faces light up after spotting someone in the crowd in the same amount she saw a student's hope crumble after they scanned the room.

Danny was a polite young man, a bit on the shyer side, but kind and not a troublemaker, his previous school had her believe. If anything, he seemed to struggle with fitting in, but no students blatantly disliked him.

The general opinion of Danny matched, as her students would say, "I know him from class, but I don't really talk to him. He seems cool though".

Maybe that's why so many people were supposed by his family to march into the auditorium during Danny's talent show. Seeing him wave at the row before starting his gymnastic act had been such a surprise.

Now, Gotham wasn't a close-knit community, not with the size of their city and the millions of people living within it, but everyone would have noticed that Danny was adopted.

After all, he was the only one that wasn't glowing or a large humanoid animal. They cheered the loudest among the crowd; uncaring Danny got bronze- having lost to Joey's tapping dancing for second and Damian's spectacular multi-instrumental cover of a meme song for first place- and Danny beamed back at them.

Gotham was known for not being meta-friendly, but that was only due to a few mean people who shouted the loudest on media outlets. Many of Emily's students were meta, had family that were meta, or knew someone meta. It wasn't a common enough trait one would encounter a meta on every outing, but you would see them in Gotham well enough.

Everyone knew, but no one said it out loud. In the same way, she knew which students' parents were in the country illegally but worked harder than anyone else. Saying anything would help the cops, or worse, the rich running Gotham.

Even the most prejudiced Gothamite would rather be spat on then give them aid. And those who were so prejudiced to help the poor man's enemies, well, Emily has lived here long enough to know they vanished rather quickly. The smart ones kept their mouths shut.

No one could forget what happened to that guy who accidentally insulted Penguin. His grandmother had been an illegal immigrant on his mother's side.

No one messed with that side of the family.

"Hello, Mrs. Jackson." Danny's adoptive father, Dr. Frostbite said, ducking down to avoid banging his head on the door. On one of his shoulders was a box of hotdog wieners; on the other were multiple bags of bread. "I'm here for my snack bar shift."

Emily tilts her head back to look the Yeti in the eye. He had been shocked the first time they met, but she could admit that Dr. Frostbite was a relatively gentle and wise soul. "Welcome aboard. The girls are just about to take the field. You can put that down by the crock pot over there."

The mountain of white fur brushes by her with the grace of a king as Dr. Frostbite does as she says. There were no customers at the window, so she leaned on the counter and offered him a smile. "Did you enjoy the game?"

"Yes. I was saddened our team did not win, but Danny hit a home run." Dr. Frostbite's sharp smile could have been frightening if he wasn't oozing parental pride. "I caught it all on video."

Emily opens her mouth to respond when a hand lands loudly on the counter with a loud crack. Her heart leaps, and she looks into Danny's Ember. She isn't one of Emily's students, though she does appear to be a teenager in appearance.

You know. If it wasn't for her hair made of fire. Or her blue skin. Or her glow.

"I set a boy on fire," She announces with a cackle.

"That's so?" Dr. Frostbite gently rips open the box, taking out the hotdog packages. With one large claw, he rips a hole into it and lets the few weiners slide into the crockpot with a gentle splash. "What did he do?"

"Tried to slap me on the butt." She huffs, rolling her eyes, but her smirk doesn't lose an edge of smugness.

"Well done." Dr. Frostbite praises placing the lid back on. It always surprised Emily to see such careful actions from the large creature. "I assume you did so out of Pandora's line of sight?"

"Naturally. I don't want her lecturing me in front of the whole community." Ember scoffs, crossing her arms. Behind her, the top of Pandora's head can be seen swinging side to side over the dugout, keeping an eye on the ball.

She was the best volunteer referee because even the parents knew not to shout insulting things when she was present. Emily doesn't think she has had such peaceful games in a long while. Hopefully, Danny will try out again for baseball next year so the woman can return.

"Oh hey, you're Danny's English teacher, right? Mrs. Johnson?" Ember asks, leaning on the counter to give Emily a curious look.

When the blond nods, holding out her hand for a shake. "That's right. It's nice to see you again, Ember."

The girl's hair flairs a little as a grin grows on her face. Her hand is ice cold to the touch, but she's got a firm grip that her husband would appreciate. "Likewise. I got a message for you from Ghostwriter. He sent the notes for the last PTA meeting to you and the revision playwright for the musical you two were working on."

Emily's mood brightens up. "That's wonderful. Could you tell him I'll check it out when I get home and get to my laptop since my phone broke in the last Two-Face attack?"

Ember's hair flickers in the wind when she nods, but Danny bounces right up behind her just as she opens her mouth to speak. He's wearing his Gotham Acadamy Baseball uniform with pride despite them losing. "Hey, Frostbite, can I go with Tim and Duke to get Peoeria Pizza? We'll be back before the girl's game ends."

"Only if you take Ember with you," Dr.Frostbite says, nodding to his daughter, who looks alarmed to be included. "She needs more friends."

"Hey!"

"Sure. Come on, Ember, you'll get along with Duke. He likes old-school rock."

"It's not old-school!"

Emily laughs, watching the two siblings bicker as they stride away, blending into the crowd with no one batting an eye at the glowing girl anymore. How blessed that boy was.

"I'm glad Danny has gotten comfortable here. I always worried he never was going to have a normal childhood." Dr. Frostbite confesses to swirling the hotdogs around in the water to ensure each one is cooked.

"I think you and the rest are doing a wonderful job. You're a great father." She assures him, thinking wistfully of her William. He's been on deployment for a few months now and will likely miss the holidays again, but his contract is almost up. They may try for a child when he gets in the reserves. "How are things at the clinic?"

"Oh, wonderful. I'm grateful that Mr. Wayne has allowed the expansion of Thomas Wayne Memorial Clinic. Dr. Thompkins will be covering the east side of Gotham while I help those on the west. It's much more fulfilling than working in some hospital that demands funds for the silliest things. Back home, that would have been illegal. The people would have burned me at the stake if I had allowed anyone to pass away due to greed."

"My kind of people." She laughs. A sharp crack sounds from the field as the bat makes contact with the ball, and the crowd goes wild. It's a wonderful day.

[navybrat817]

Any thoughts for WETnesday with Bucky?🤭🤭

Okay, Syd. I wrote this after work for Wetnesday and promptly fell asleep. So, I'm posting this on Thirsty Thursday! And that has to be Mr. Barnes before you two are married.

Dinner Plans

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky doesn't want to be late for dinner, but you don't seem to be in a rush to go.

Word Count: Over 2.8k

Warnings: Established relationship, quick unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, lovelies), possessive behavior, a bit of humor and fluff, feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I love this couple, okay? @targaryenvampireslayer and @starlightcrystalline, I hope you enjoy! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was still early in the evening as Bucky got ready for dinner. Checking his watch once he put it on, he sighed. If he was late, Steve would give him a hard time. And if Steve gave him a hard time, Sam would only give him the gasoline to fuel the fire. Just the thought of it had his face shift to his grumpy stare you loved.

His gaze softened when you went to the vanity. Would the guys give him a hard time if he said he was in love and wanted as much alone time with you as possible? How being with you was like floating on a cloud and being pulled back down to earth all at once? He didn’t care if they’d call him out for being sappy. He sure as hell suffered enough in his life that he could afford to be appreciative of you and maybe a little selfish when it came to you.

But checking the time, he grumbled. “We were supposed to leave five minutes ago,” he said.

He would’ve rather gone to a hole in the wall kind of place or a diner to have dinner, but it wasn't his turn to pick the dinner out with some of the gang. Plus it was nice getting to dress up with you since you liked how he looked in suits. To be fair, you said he looked good in anything and he felt the same way about you. How you always managed to look like a goddess, he’d never know.

You hummed. “We still have a few minutes to spare,” you said, which he wasn’t sure how you knew since you hadn’t looked at the time. “And you are not dressed yet, so it’s not like we can head out the door.”

He paused to stare at you. “Neither are you,” he pointed out, licking his lips as you leaned forward a bit more as you applied your makeup. He shook his head after a moment, trying to snap himself out of the spell you always managed to put him under. “I’m bringing you one of my cardigans to put over your shoulders in case you get cold.”

Because the weather was nice for the evening, you picked out a sleeveless dress. He didn’t know if the restaurant would be cold though, and he didn’t want you shivering through the meal. You likely had something to match your dress, but putting one of his cardigans over you was like that extra touch of belonging to him in case anyone got any ideas.

“You just want one of your shirts draped over me like a big neon sign that says I’m yours and you don't want guys checking me out on my dress,” you said like you knew exactly what he was thinking. There was no reason to deny your words since it was the truth. “But I appreciate the thoughtfulness.”

“I do like my clothes draped over you,” he smirked. He liked having his smell on you, too. “But you know what I don’t like? Steve and Sam bitching if we’re late. It’ll spoil my appetite.”

“Aww, my poor super soldier,” you teased, smiling at him in your reflection and making his heart skip a beat. “If we’re late, you can just blame me. I won’t let them give you a hard time, okay?”

Bucky couldn’t blame you though. Not entirely. You were late getting in the shower thanks to him insisting on the two of you staying in bed. Serum stamina or whatever you wanted to call it, but he felt bad some days for his almost constant need. You didn’t seem to mind though.

“They won’t believe me,” he said, staring again when the strap of your bra slipped from your shoulder. “And baby, you know I adore you, but you need to quit distracting me so I can finish getting dressed.”

Ever since you moved in, you’d been a distraction in a wonderful way. He often found that he’d pause to look at photos or little touches you incorporated into the place, giving him a chance to reflect on memories you made together and even learn more about who you were before you met. Hearing your laughter or voice call to him from another room also made him drop whatever he was doing, too. Sharing a space with someone could be daunting, but it was easy with you, like you had lived together for years. It made him look forward to more.

“Me? Distracting you?” You turned your head toward him and gave him an innocent glance. You were anything but innocent. “I'm not doing anything.”

Bucky almost snarled. Like hell you weren't doing anything. Swaying your hips and prancing around in your lingerie before you sat to get ready, lingerie which barely covered your gorgeous tits and sweet cunt. He wanted to rip it to shreds or tear it off with his teeth. You wouldn’t mind, right? He could always get you more to destroy.

“Not doing anything? Look at you,” he said incredulously as you turned back to the mirror and pushed your bra up. He should’ve been holding your breasts. “Why aren't you wearing a robe?”

You tilted your head. “Well, you said before I got in the shower that we were in a slight rush, so I figured putting on the robe was a waste of time. At least I have my underwear on, though I know you’d rather I be naked.”

If Bucky had his way, you’d be naked all the time. At least, when you two were at home. Logically he knew he couldn’t have that at work, functions, or anything of that nature, but the image in his head was nice. “For such a rush you seem to be taking your time.”

“I'm not taking my time. I'm finishing my makeup,” you argued, carefully applying your lipstick. “Like it?” you asked, blowing him an air kiss. It was a pretty shade. It would look even prettier smeared around his cock.

He closed his eyes with a groan. Some days he felt like a caveman with the thoughts that consumed him. “You look beautiful,” he said once he opened his eyes. Like always. “Now get your dress on so I can show you off before I put the cardigan on you.”

“Show me off?” You slowly stood from your chair and gave him a generous view of your backside. His cock twitched in his pants, and there was no reason to hide the pure lust in his eyes when you turned to face him. “You flatter me, Mr. Barnes.”

He chuckled. It always did something to him when you called him Mr. Barnes. It was something affectionate, sweet. “I think you’re the one flattering me, Mrs.-” he exhaled before he could finish, and he heard the hitch in your breath across the room.

“What was that?” you asked breathily.

He adjusted the watch on his wrist and avoided your gaze. You were his girl, yeah, and the love you had for each other spoke volumes, but you weren’t his wife. Not yet. God, how he wanted you to be- for you to take his last name, wear his ring on your finger, be his partner in all aspects of life. He wanted it to be more than just a dream.

“I didn’t say…” He cleared his throat and put on a blank face, only because he didn’t know how you’d react. “Anything.”

Your eyes raked over him before you beckoned him forward with a finger. He swore no one would ever control him again after HYDRA brainwashed him, but you could’ve commanded him to do anything. It didn’t frighten him because you would never harm him, never take advantage of him. Taking him into your care and maintaining his trust was one of the ways you showed you loved him.

Once he stood in front of you, barely an inch away, you whispered, “Were you about to call me Mrs. Barnes?”

He swallowed hard, his heart racing. It was one thing to say you loved each other, to want a future together, but what if you weren’t ready when he popped the question? “I was,” he whispered back.

You smiled, not looking the least bit put off or afraid. He should've known it wouldn't bother you, especially with you being the one to say “I love you” first. “I think that has a really nice ring to it,” you said, your hands moving to unbuckle his belt.

“You think so?” he asked, forgetting for a moment that he was capable of breathing. “You like the idea of being my wife?”

Bucky would no doubt be the kind of husband who’d brag about you. He’d find ways to insert “my wife” in conversations just to let others know that you picked him out of everyone else on the planet. Not just that, he wanted people to know how proud he was to be your man and that he’d find reasons every day to be proud of you.

“I love it,” you confirmed, sighing when he ran his fingertips along your arms. “Makes my heart race,” you admitted. He could hear it. “Makes me wet.”

Bucky arched his hips and pressed up against you. “Baby, you’re gonna kill me,” he whispered, not stopping you as you unbuttoned his pants. He was thinking of just cancelling dinner so he could throw you on the bed and stay inside you for the rest of the night. “We need to-”

“Oh. Now might be a good time to tell you that Steve pushed the reservation back by a half hour,” you cut in, mouthing over his racing pulse. “He figured he’d message me since I’m better about checking my phone, and-”

Bucky picked you up with ease and tossed you onto the bed. Your wide-eyed expression as you bounced nearly had him busting out of his pants, and he didn’t hesitate to crawl over you and pin you down. Relishing in the moan you let out when he lightly bit your neck, he did it again a little harder. “No wonder you took your time and teased me,” he smirked when you squirmed beneath him. “My future wife.”

“My future husband,” you moaned, bucking your hips up. “Need you in me. We can be quick.”

You got a hand in his hair and forced his head up to yours, your tongue impatiently pushing into his mouth. He groaned in understanding, feeling just as desperate as you. Knowing how turned on you were at the thought of being his wife turned him on, and he could barely form a coherent thought as he took his cock out and gave it a couple of quick pumps.

“Say it again,” he demanded, shoving your panties aside and rubbing the head of his cock along your slit. He took his time earlier today stretching you, and he wanted nothing more than to feel you around him again.

And the way you reached between your bodies and gripped the base of his cock, he knew you wanted the same when you said, “Fuck me, my future husband.”

He eased in gently, making you whine. He thought he’d whine, too, for a second because of how good he felt. God, how good it would feel to hold your hand one day and feel his ring against your skin. “You okay?” he asked, dragging his thumb along your lower lip once he was fully inside you. You were tight still, so wet, and oh, he was going to fuck you and make it quick, but he wasn’t going to hurt you.

“I’m okay,” you whispered, starting deep into his eyes as you clenched around him with purpose and brushed his hair back. He tried to be still, tried not to thrust like a wild animal. “Are you?”

“I’m okay,” he promised, easing his hips back. “Just hold on while I fuck you.”

Your back arched when he slammed himself back in nice and deep, your cry bouncing off the walls. Here in the comfort of your home you didn’t have to smother any noises, didn’t have to keep quiet. He wanted to tell you how much he loved you, how you were the queen of his world.

Being inside you all he got out was, “You feel so fucking good.”

And because you could read him like no one else could, you tenderly smiled. “I love you, too.”

He threw his head back as you clutched his arms, determined to make you feel good, determined to show you how much he loved you even as he fucked you. “Gonna put you on your hands and knees after dinner. Make you watch in the mirror while I fuck you,” he groaned. “Can imagine it's part of our honeymoon.”

“Please!’ you moaned, trying to meet his thrusts.

Bucky grabbed your thighs to lift you higher, uncaring if he ruined his pants for the evening. Watching you tremble beneath his, a vision of ecstasy, he was happy to stay there forever. Wrapped up in you was where he always wanted to be.

“Gonna come,” you moaned, reaching up to pull his hair again, your body quaking. “Bucky, please.”

Bucky groaned. He hadn’t rubbed your clit how he wanted to. Didn’t get to tear your bra off and tease your nipples. He did promise to fuck you later though, and he’d do all those things and more. “Then come for me,” he smirked, leaning down to say against your lips, “Future. Mrs.. Barnes.”

You got impossibly tight and the flood of wetness that gushed around him triggered his own orgasm, a rush of heat filling him as he filled you. His mouth fell open as you clung to him, and he heard you moan his name as your eyes went glossy. He wanted the image of you getting off to taking his last name etched in his brain for all time. He wanted his name to fall from your lips again and again on your wedding night.

The cloud in his mind began to lift. You, his future wife, were beneath him, still shaking, still holding him like a lifeline. He didn’t want to let you go either. “Holy… shit…” you panted.

He braced himself above you, trying not to crush you as the euphoria slowly faded. It never really went away though. Not with you. “Holy shit,” he agreed. He stayed inside you, your sweet mewl making him smile as he kissed you. “Is this a new kink?” he asked, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Yeah,” you exhaled, touching his cheek. “New kink unlocked.”

Touching your lips with his once more, he chuckled. “You ruined my pants,” he teased. It wouldn’t have been the first time. The first time you rode his thigh and got your release all over it, he nearly came, too. “Good thing I have a few minutes to change.”

He cradled you close when he shifted to the side, making you moan again. “Yeah, well, you ruined my panties. Fair is fair.”

“I did,” he smirked, running his fingers along your spine. “Hey.”

“Hey what?”

“I love you,” he whispered, wanting to say it as often as he could. They weren’t just words, but a declaration, a promise.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back, tracing one of the buttons on his wrinkled shirt.

His lips brushed your forehead. He’d never get tired of hearing you say that. “If I asked you to marry me right now, would you say yes?”

He wouldn’t propose right this second. You deserved something more romantic. But in his heart, he just wanted to hear you say that you’d say yes.

You giggled, your eyes full of love. “I would say yes in a heartbeat,” you replied, kissing him gently. Your answer relieved him. “And I’d marry you anytime, anywhere.”

He raised an eyebrow. “But?” he asked, sensing a “but” in there.

“But don’t ask me right now, okay?” you smiled, in sync with his thoughts. “I mean, I’d like to think my pussy would make you propose now-”

“And it would,” he smirked.

You giggled again. “But ask me when I’m not expecting it… Whenever it feels right to you.”

“I will,” he promised.

“Looking forward to it.” You snuggled closer and missed his look of adoration. “Hold me for one more minute before we get ready to go?”

As if he could ever deny you. “I’ll hold you as long as you want,” he whispered.

He no longer cared if Steve or Sam gave him shit should they show up late. If you wanted him to skip dinner just to hold you, he’d do it. If you wanted him to surprise you when he proposed, he would. And no matter when Bucky asked you to be his wife, he’d make sure it was perfect as it could possibly be.

AHH! I love them so much. How do you lovelies think he proposed? ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[polarisjisung]

ꨄ YOU ARE MY ROCKSTAR

LATE NIGHTS IN THE STUDIO W/ MARK

wc: 0.7k warnings: none yet! notes: been on a mark listening streak, still think golden hour is one of my favourites | LIBRARY

The clock on the wall reads well past midnight, but really it doesn’t feel that late.

The warm hum of the recording studio surrounds you, the soft glow of the lights casting a mellow ambiance in the room. It feels cosy. All moments with Mark did, but something tonight feels especially comfortable.

Mark sits behind the mixing console, headphones perched on his head as he carefully adjusts sound levels. You don't really know what all the switches and dials in front of him mean, but you do know that they mean a lot to Mark, and that's enough for you.

He’s in his element. It's obvious from the way he narrows his eyes down in front of him. But there’s something about the way he moves that tells you he’s more focused on making the track perfect than anything else in the world right now.

You’re sprawled out on the couch across from him, with a spiderman blanket he'd placed over your lap earlier, as you watch him.

His usual cheerful, easygoing nature has shifted into a quiet, intense concentration, the mark of someone who cares deeply about their work.

It was one of the things you loved most about Mark, how much he cared, not just about his work, but about you, about everything.

Mark's loves in life were few, but his dedication to them was immense. He loved rarely, but entirely.

His brows furrow slightly as he listens to the beat, adjusting a few knobs here and there, nodding to himself in approval.

You smile to yourself, almost feeling a little self-conscious about how much you’ve been admiring him lately. You can't help it, though.

The way his hair falls over his forehead, the way his fingers move so effortlessly over the dials, the way his voice takes on a slightly deeper, more serious tone when he's in "work mode." It’s moments like these that make you fall for him all over again.

“Hey, you okay?” Mark’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, the soft crackle of his mic cutting through the air. You look up, meeting his warm gaze. His hair is an absolute mess, falling over his eyes and sticking out in all sorts of different directions— somehow Mark’s never looked better.

“Yeah, just… watching you. You’re really focused, huh?”

He grins, pushing his headphones off one ear. “Yeah, I get like this sometimes when I’m working on something that matters. You know, the kind of thing where I want everything to sound just right. But you’ve been quiet. What’s on your mind?”

You chuckle, lifting a hand to rub the back of your neck, just a touch embarrassed. “Nothing, just… you. I love watching you work. You’re amazing, Mark.”

His eyes soften, a faint blush creeping up his neck. He reaches over and taps a button on the console, stopping the track. “Stop making me all shy. You know I get embarrassed when you say things like that.” He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as he looks at you with a playful smirk. “But I’m glad you think that. It’s nice to have you here with me.”

In your books, that was a win, considering the number of times you'd been reminded just how much Mark hated to be disturbed during his solo studio sessions. But like most things, the rules were different for you.

You sit up, suddenly feeling a little braver, and slide off the couch, walking over to him. “Can I sit with you while you work? I promise I won’t distract you too much.”

Mark presses a soft kiss to your hand, gentle, reassuring.

“Of course,” he says, already pulling the chair next to his, his fingers drumming lightly on the armrest. “You’re my favorite distraction.”

taglist: @yizhrt @suzayaaa @nanawrlds @sinisxtea @dearlyminhyung @flaminghotyourmom @jisworlds @jenobubbles @nctdreamchaser @lotties-readings @mystverse @chenlezip

[etherealrin]

♡.ᐟ sanrio rings!

how proplayer!rin accidentally reveals his relationship with you to the public

warnings: none // wc: 929

notes: my first post ever, hi LOL. ooc rin perhaps? female reader (reffered to as rin's gf)

rin forgets he even has the plastic ring on. so when he gets interviewed post-match and the cameraman zooms in on his right hand, which currently grips the microphone, he's a little confused.

"mr. itoshi!" the reporter exclaims, "what an odd choice of jewelry! and on the ring finger too, are you perhaps engaged?"

what? engaged? rin plasters a frown on his face, ready to go off at the woman.

"i have no idea what y-" rin begins, but cuts himself off. oh shit, he thinks. of course, on his ring finger sat the stupid little kuromi ring he had gotten with you in shibuya last week. his mind races back to the memory, and he groans internally.

"rin, please! let's get matching ones!" you squealed as you dragged him towards the staggering rows of gachapons deep inside the city's neon lit streets. the whole shop was filled to the brim with machine after machine, and one in particular had caught your eye. it was one containing comically large rings of sanrio character faces, ranging from cinamoroll to my melody to kuromi. "fine, if that's really what you want to spend 400 yen on," he had sighed. he knew you would somehow rope him into wearing the diabolical little accesory. "i really hope we get my melody and kuromi! y'know it's basically canon that they like each other, right?" you told him, laughing. "i hope you know i'm not familiar with any of the sanrio lore," rin began. "but- if it's with you, it's not so bad…i guess." the last part was barely audible. you pushed him toward the white machine, with a little "you first!"

to his fortune (or now his misfortune, he figured) he did indeed manage to obtain the black kuromi ring you had wanted him to wear. his attention then shifted to you. you were crouched down over the machine, and, wait…why were you performing a summoning ritual? you had pulled up my melody pictures on your phone and waved it around like a mystic. "you're silly," rin deadpanned. "but it'll work, watch this!" you shot back. the tips of your finger grasped the small wheel of the gacha machine and you turned it slowly. an opaque pink ball dropped out of the prize slot. "i did it! see?" you said smugly, giving rin a pointed look. "now you have to put yours on, so we match!" rin sighed, but he slipped the ring onto his finger, choosing the exact same placement you had done for youself. the right ring finger? "hey- you do know what this means right?" he asked you, a faint rose tinting his cheeks. you giggled. "it's a promise! we're now engaged under the laws of sanrio!"

"so? what's the news?" the reporter inquires again. rin snaps back to the present, having temporarily forgotten he was in a post-match interview and on nationwide live television. oh, you must be watching too, he realizes. itoshi rin could only come up with one explanation now: the truth.

"i got it with my girlfriend the other day, she wanted to match," he says with all air of nonchalance that he can muster. "girlfriend? mr. itoshi, you're in a relationship?" the reporter almost drops her microphone out of shock. rin feels his cheeks heat up, and he wants to smack himself for blushing on live television at the mention of you. "yes. i have been in one for quite a while now," rin starts. "and she's the sweetest, most stunning girl in the entire universe. now if you're done asking me about my private life, do you have anything for the real game? or are we done here?" "o-oh, yes…" the reporter babbles on about something he had done in the match and rin wraps up the interview at light speed, wanting to leave and to see you immediately.

when rin finally knocks on the door to your third floor apartment (and notices the glittery sanrio stickers plastered onto it) you open it almost instantly, with a finger pointing at his face. "i saw your interview," you say, dragging him into your living room where he promptly sprawls out on the sofa, hiding his face in his hands. "i can't believe you forgot to take it off, it's been three days!" you laugh. "but…it was cute. really, thank you. i know how hard it must have been to tell the whole world about us," "it was worth it, for you," rin says softly. he's a bit embarrased now. yet he's running his fingers through your silky hair now, twisting and turning it, his lilting touch teasing your exposed shoulder and making you giggle as if being tickled. you notice the kuromi ring, still sitting on his ring finger as if it was the most rightful place for it to belong. he grabs your own right hand, lining your fingers side by side with his, grinning a little at the pink my melody on yours. "hmmm, i love you too, rin" you reply to the boy. he pulls you closer and inhales deeply, breathing in your nectarine-like sweet perfume. "you should come to my game next week in my jersey," he mentions suddenly. "i mean there's no point in going through the agony of having lukewarm people online trying to guess who my girl is, i want everyone to know its you." you can't help but smile up at rin. his azure eyes shine with something fragile and genuine, love. you give him a soft, small kiss, and he sighs contentedly. "i'd love to," you promise.

a/n: if you've made it this far i luv u, this is inspired by the sanrio rings i got with my friend haha

[supernovafics]

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 4.9k words

warnings: explicit language, a bit of angst (bc of some family drama), lots of fluff, smut (18+), unprotected piv sex, tiny hint of praise kink

summary: in which a family wedding makes you think about the future

author's note: i love when i randomly get hit with inspiration for this universe<33

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Summer 1986

You had been trying to stay on your parents’ good side. They hadn’t been pestering you a lot about your future— specifically college and transferring to the University of Chicago, where they had wanted you to go since you were a kid— and you wanted to keep it that way. And if that meant going to a family wedding in Illinois, then so be it. 

The only bearable part about it was that Steve was coming too, and it had taken absolutely no bribing to get him to say yes. 

“Is this my girlfriend privilege coming into play?” You asked him as you two sat on the couch in your apartment’s living room. “Because I swear if we were still just friends you would at least force me to do all of the driving or something.”

Steve gave you an amused smile. “Do you want me to make you do all of the driving?”

“Nope, not at all,” You shook your head. “So, actually, I’m gonna stop talking now.” 

Steve laughed a little and you focused your attention back on the random sitcom playing on the TV, a small smile on your face. 

“Do you think Dustin will wanna babysit Harold again?” Steve asked as he mindlessly reached out to grab your hand that was buried under the blanket draped over your laps and intertwined it with his. 

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” You answered with a nod, taking a look over at the brown and white hamster’s cage that was sitting on the low shelf you two had next to the TV. “Honestly, I think he’s starting to like Harold more than us.” 

“I’m pretty sure that happened right when we got him.”

“Shit, you’re right,” You said as you shifted a bit and wrapped Steve’s arm around you so that you were nuzzled more comfortably in his side and then intertwined your hands once again. “I actually feel kinda offended about that. Just so you know, I love you and Harold equally.”

“Equally?” Steve said, sounding playfully shocked. “I’ve known you for basically ten years.”

“Yeah, but Harold’s our son, so…” You shrugged, trying to contain your growing smile. 

“Okay, I guess I’ll share the number one spot, then,” He responded as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head.  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The four-hour drive to the town just out of Chicago where the majority of your family lived wasn’t terrible. You and Steve evenly split the driving time and spent most of it playing silly games; mainly the license plate game because it was a car ride staple, and also a game where you two had to try and think of the same word and say it at the same time, and you two were eerily good at it. 

By the time you made it to the hotel that all of the out-of-town family members were staying at because of how close it was to the wedding venue, it was the middle of the night. Even though Steve didn’t have to work today— he took off the entire weekend, actually— you two still decided to leave later in the day because you wanted to avoid as much unnecessary time with your parents as possible.

Unsurprisingly, you and Steve were the only people checking in at ten o’clock at night. 

“So, it looks like there are two rooms in the reservation,” The lady at the front desk told you; her name tag said Joan. “One under your name, and one under Steve Harrington.”

“Oh,” You said and then nodded after a second. “Um, okay.”

Joan seemed to take note of your slightly confused tone. “Did you not book two rooms?”

“My parents handled all of this, so I guess they did the two rooms.”

She nodded at your words. “I’m gonna go grab the room keys and I’ll be right back.”

She headed off to what you assumed was the back room and you turned to look at Steve who was standing right next to you. 

He let out a quiet laugh as his arm slipped around your waist. “Did your parents forget that we live together and that we've been dating for the last five months?”

“They probably think we still sleep in our own bedrooms,” You said, leaning into his touch and realizing just how tired you were. 

You truly couldn’t remember the last time you slept alone in the past few months since you and Steve got together, and even before that, you both had spent a lot of time in each other’s beds. It probably would’ve made sense for you two to downsize to a one-bedroom place, but you both loved the apartment so much that you couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. 

“Should I pretend that I’m actually staying in the other room?” Steve asked and you quickly nodded. 

“Yeah, just in case.”

“Bad idea that we decided to share a suitcase then, huh?”

When you came up with it, it seemed like the perfect idea for the quick weekend trip. Why bring two separate suitcases that would probably be half empty, instead of just sharing one? 

You sighed now as you took a look at the black suitcase that Steve was holding the handle of. “Very bad idea.”

Joan returned a moment later. “So, good news, the rooms are right next to each other, and they’re actually connecting, so you two won’t have to be too far from each other.”

“That’s great,” You said, grabbing one of the keys from her outstretched hand, and Steve grabbed the other. “Thank you so much.”

She smiled at you both. “I hope you two enjoy your stay.”

You and Steve said another quick “Thanks” before heading toward the elevators. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Your room is so much nicer than mine,” You said as you slumped back onto Steve’s bed, head quickly finding the pillow that was actually so soft. 

“Do you wanna switch?” He asked from where he stood by the suitcase, pulling on a fresh t-shirt for the night.

The door that connected your rooms was wide open and it would probably stay that way for the entire night. 

“No, it’s fine, I’ll deal with my shitty shower pressure and lumpy bed.”

“You can stay in here with me tonight, y’know,” He told you, moving closer and maneuvering so that he was settled on top of you. It was a comfortable position, even though it probably shouldn’t have been. The way your bodies molded so easily for each other always felt like two pieces of a puzzle coming together. 

You smiled under his gaze. “Thank you for the formal invitation.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Of course, no problem. I wanna be a gentleman.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little at his words that were said very seriously, but you knew they were anything but. 

You could’ve easily fallen asleep just like that if you wanted to, with his warm body pressed so comfortably against yours, pretty much equivalent to a weighted blanket. And it would’ve made sense to fall asleep after the long drive you two had to endure, but you really didn’t want to.  

His head dipped down and yours tilted upward, allowing you two to meet halfway in the softest kiss. 

There was something about kissing Steve that always felt so nostalgic, and also the complete opposite. Even five months into everything, there was still a newness to being with Steve in this way that you’d probably never get fully used to. Every time felt like the first one, but there was also so much comfort that had been there from the beginning and it only continued to grow.  

After a moment that you considered way too short, he pulled away from your lips and his mouth started immediately trailing along the underside of your jaw and then down to your neck.  

You let out the softest hum as you shifted underneath him, searching for any sort of extra friction. Steve’s low groan was the first thing you heard when you brushed against his hardness and you wished that you could pull off the few layers that separated the two of you in one quick movement. 

“You still tired?” He mumbled against your neck.  

“Yes, but I also really want you right now,” You whispered back as you threaded your fingers through his hair, which was slightly damp from the shower he just took. The only pro about not sharing a room was that you both got your own bathroom, even if the water pressure in yours sucked.  

“Yeah?” He asked as he pulled back a bit to look at you. His voice was teasing, playful, but you also knew how much he loved the reassurance too. 

“Yeah,” You nodded immediately. “Please.”

There was the sweetest smile on his face as his fingers found the bottom of your t-shirt and proceeded to pull the fabric up and off of you. 

You had opted against putting on a bra after your shower, so your chest was left bare for him once your t-shirt was off and he was groaning at the sight. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” He whispered as the pad of his thumb brushed against your already hard nipple.

For the briefest moment, your eyes slipped shut and you bit your lip to hold back your moan, and then you were meeting his gaze again. 

“You’re really pretty too, Stevie,” You said, smiling up at him as you reached up to softly poke his cheek. 

He laughed a little and turned his head a little so that he was kissing your poking finger. “Thank you. You’re so nice.” 

Your shoulders upturned in the most nonchalant shrug, but the same smile was on your face; you were always the one to bring a bit of silliness into moments like these. “I try.”

Steve was smiling back at you as he gave your nipple a quick squeeze and then his hands moved down your sides and settled at the waistband of your pajama bottoms. He pulled your shorts and underwear off in one motion and tossed them to the floor somewhere along with your shirt. 

He kissed from your collarbone down to your belly button, stopping and teasing different spots along the way which made you squirm beneath him and you could feel yourself dripping onto the blanket below you with every teasing press of his mouth. He moved lower and lower, and then deliberately skipped past where you needed him to be. Instead, he started kissing your inner thighs.

Your fingers carded through his hair as you looked down at him. “You’re being very evil right now.”

“I’m sorry,” He told you, but you knew that he really wasn’t. He spread your legs further and pressed the most featherlight kiss against your clit before looking up at you again. “What do you want?”

There were a lot of things you could’ve said in answer— in that moment, you were craving his fingers and his mouth too— but after the exhaustingly long drive, you simply just wanted to be as close to him as possible as quickly as possible. 

“Honestly, I really need you inside me,” You told him softly, hand moving from his hair to his cheek. “I need your cock. Please. Is that okay?”

He let out a contented groan at your honesty, head falling against the side of your thigh. “Fuck, yeah, of course that’s okay.” 

Steve moved away from you then, his warmth leaving your body as he pulled back to look at you. The juxtaposition of you being naked right then and him still being completely clothed, made you pout at him.  

“Well, this is very unfair,” You said, reaching out to grab at his shirt. 

Steve was smiling as he leaned in to press a quick kiss against your lips. “I knew you were going to say that.”

Before you could playfully complain any further, he pulled his shirt off and your fingers quickly moved to the waistband of his sweatpants. He let you pull them down along with his boxers, revealing his hard cock that you bit your lip at the sight of, and then Steve did the rest of the work of pulling them off his legs and tossing them somewhere to the side. 

When his body was once again on top of yours, his warmth enveloping you completely, he didn’t hesitate to push inside of you, your wetness making it easy for him to fill you to the hilt. 

Steve’s thrusts were languid and slow, both of you simply craved the feeling of each other rather than anything else. His lips found yours in the most searing kiss that was so different from his unhurried movements above you. It was a messy clash of tongues and teeth and one of your hands came up to tangle itself in his hair. 

You broke the kiss when a particularly rough stir of his hips made him push deeper inside of you and you gasped. “Shit, yes, Steve, right there.”

He hit that specific spot again and again and you were moaning louder each time, not worried about how thin the walls maybe were in this hotel. “You sound so pretty screaming for me, honey. You’re so fucking good.”

You nodded profusely, trying to keep your eyes on his, but it was too hard not to let them slip shut with every perfect snap of his hips. “Only for you.”

It didn’t take long for both of you to reach your ends— it was his thumb on your clit that triggered your orgasm, and it was the feeling of your walls clenching around him as you came that sent Steve over the edge too, pressing his face into your neck. 

A quiet stillness took over as your racing hearts returned to normal and a deeper tiredness took over and made your eyelids feel heavy. 

After you weren’t sure how long, Steve started to shift so that he could move off of you, but you stopped him with a hand on his back before his softening cock could slip out of you and told him that you wanted to stay like this for a bit longer. He didn’t protest your words and instead buried his face back in your neck, pressing the sweetest kiss against your pulse point. You two slowly fell asleep just like that for the time being, too spent and exhausted to make any other movements. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

If it weren’t for the incessant sound of someone knocking on the door, you were certain that you would’ve slept for a few more hours. 

The sound woke you up slowly and then all at once. Your eyes opened and you got the urge to pull the blanket over your head. You weren’t even sure when exactly that had happened, but at some point, you and Steve finally made it under the covers and you had also grabbed his t-shirt and slipped it on too. 

You ultimately didn’t pull the blanket over your head to muffle the noise. Instead, you pulled it off of you when you realized that the knocking was coming from your room. 

“Shit.” 

The door that connected your and Steve’s rooms was still open and you were suddenly so certain that the knocks you were hearing were being rapped against your room door. 

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked when he felt you get out of bed. He tiredly rubbed his eyes; you, on the other hand, were suddenly the complete opposite of tired. 

“I’m pretty sure my mom’s right outside my door. Or my dad. Or both,” You answered him as you quickly searched for your underwear and pajama shorts and found them in different random spots on the floor. “It’s probably both of them, actually, and I’ve had no time to mentally prepare for whatever this conversation is about to be.”

“I can go answer it, if you want,” You heard Steve suggest as you hastily pulled on your bottoms. 

“I think it would be better if we kept the illusion up that we don’t sleep together,” You told him. “I’m gonna go see what they want and I’ll be back in a sec.”

You rushed over to where he was now sitting up in the bed and pressed the quickest kiss against his lips before heading over to your room and pulling the door that connected your room to Steve’s shut.  

You ruffled up the untouched bed so it looked like you actually slept in it last night and then went to open the door before another series of knocks were rapped against it. 

“Hi, good morning, sorry,” You rushed out. It was only your mom standing in front of you, and right then it was hard to tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “The bed’s so comfortable, it was hard to wake up.”

She nodded at your words. “The bed in your dad and I’s room is terrible, we’re gonna try to switch to a different room tonight. Anyway, what time did you and Steve make it here last night?” 

“It was a little after ten.”

“And how was the drive?”

“Good,” You answered simply. “Me and Steve split the time so that made it easier.”

“That’s good,” She smiled. “Do you know if he’s still sleeping?”

“Um, yeah, he probably is,” You shrugged through your lie. “He’s right next door, but I haven’t seen him since last night.”

“Okay, well, your dad and I are going to have breakfast downstairs in an hour with your Aunt Tracy and Uncle Sean, you and Steve should come too.”

Her words sounded like a suggestion, but you knew that they were actually the opposite. 

You forced a smile. “Oh, okay, we’ll definitely meet you guys down there. I’ll go wake him up now.”

“Okay, great,” Your mom smiled back at you. “See you two then.”

You closed the door when she started walking away and headed back to Steve’s room. 

“So, what happened?” He asked as you climbed back into bed. 

You settled next to him and rested your head against his bare shoulder. “We’re having breakfast downstairs with my parents, and my aunt and uncle in an hour.”

Steve nodded at your statement. “Honestly, that sounds good. The last time we ate was right before we got here last night and it was shitty McDonald’s.”

“Yeah, those were the saddest burgers ever,” You said with a sigh. 

“Wait, which aunt is gonna be there?” Steve abruptly asked. “The nice one or the one that hates me?”

You laughed a little. “The nice one. But, I feel like I should remind you again that Cheryl does not hate you.”

“You don’t remember that party the way I do,” He said and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his seriousness. 

It had been a birthday party for your mom a few years back. Of course, Steve and his parents were there, and you and him spent most of the night camping out in your room, away from your mom’s friends and your overbearing family members. It had been your idea to sneak a bottle of wine from the kitchen and bring it to your room, but Steve was the one who actually went and did it. Or at least attempted to before he got caught by your aunt and, according to him, was harshly scolded by her. 

“I’ve seen her a bunch of times since that party and I promise you she doesn’t think you’re a bad influence on me or whatever,” You told Steve, lifting your head from his shoulder to press a kiss against his cheek. “And she definitely doesn’t hate you.”

“We’ll see what happens at the wedding later.”

You leaned in to whisper into his ear. “Don’t worry, if she does hate you, I’ll defend you from any and all shitty comments.”

He gave you an amused smile when you pulled back to look at him. “Thank you, that’s all I ask. You’re the best girlfriend ever.”

You smiled at him as you leaned your head back on his shoulder and closed your eyes, attempting to get a little more sleep before you’d have to force yourself out of bed again. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Steve was right and he didn’t hesitate to whisper an “I told you” in your ear seconds after your Aunt Cheryl gave a warm greeting to you and the coldest hello to him. 

You didn’t have time to respond to Steve’s whispered words because you two were being told by one of the ushers to find seats since the wedding was minutes away from starting. The weather was pretty much perfect; warm but not so much so that it made sitting outside entirely unbearable, which was a little surprising for the middle of August but you weren’t complaining. 

Steve was on one side of you and your parents were on the other, and you smiled in thanks when your mom complimented the dress you were wearing; the long pale pink floral dress that you bought only because you knew she would like it, and you had wanted to avoid her saying anything bad about your clothing choices like she usually did. 

About halfway through the ceremony, Steve’s hand found yours, and the simple action made you suddenly feel warm all over. You shouldn’t have felt so fazed by it— that was something that had happened practically a million times before— but the current circumstances made it feel a little different. 

Samantha was one of your cousins that you weren’t that close with— you remembered going to the sleepover for her fifth birthday party and that was one of the last times you two hung out before you and your family moved to Indiana, and then you only saw her during random family occasions— but she looked beautiful and seemed so genuinely happy that it was hard not to feel a little emotional; it was what weddings did to people. 

You tried to listen to the vows and everything else being said right then, but it was hard to fully focus when all you could think about was a future that would someday involve this with Steve, and how nice that sounded. 

Maybe Steve could suddenly read your mind or the subtle smile on your face, but either way, he was giving your hand a light squeeze, as if telling you that he agreed with everything you were thinking about. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

To probably no one’s surprise, you and Steve stayed attached at the hip throughout the majority of the night. Your hand was always laced in his or his was placed at the small of your back. 

You were grateful for that closeness and you were especially grateful for him because he made it a thousand times easier to deal with family members that you hadn’t seen in forever and the forced small talk that came along with that estrangement. 

It quickly became a revolving door of the same topics and questions— how was graduating last year, how is college going now, what are your future plans, etc, etc— and you thought you’d be able to put up with it for the entire night. However, there were only so many times you could say, “Fine,” “Good,” and “I’m still figuring it out” before it became too annoying. 

Therefore, the second the brief conversation with one of your uncles came to an end, your hand found Steve’s and you led him out of the big ballroom where the reception was happening. He didn’t question your current antics and you two ended up outside moments later— it was much cooler out now, but still comfortable— and you headed toward a little garden area with a bench that you had noticed earlier. 

 “Let’s just sit here for a bit,” You said to Steve, not explaining the why behind you wanting to do this right now, but you didn’t have to. 

He nodded, understanding just how exhausting this entire day had been for you, and sat down with you. Things fell into a comfortable quiet, the first silence all night, and you reveled in it. You shifted around after a few moments so your head was in his lap and your legs dangled off the side of the bench.

“Do you wanna leave? I think we’ve been here for a reasonable amount of time,” Steve said, breaking the quiet after a few minutes of you simply holding his hand and looking at all of the flowers in the garden. “We can go to that Dairy Queen we saw when we were driving here last night, if you want. I think it’s only like ten minutes away.”

You knew what he was trying to do— make things light in any way that he could, and in this case, it meant offering up ice cream— and once again you were reminded of just how fucking grateful you were to have him here with you in this moment.  

“I love you,” You said instead of answering his question. “Like, a lot, a lot, a lot.”

You immediately noticed the smile spread across his face as he looked down at you. “Hm, you’re not drunk right now, so where is this sappiness coming from?” 

“Shh, don’t question it. Just let me get disgustingly cheesy with you right now, Harrington.”

“Okay, sorry, continue,” He told you, but then he abruptly kept going before you could start talking. “And I love you too, by the way.”

You smiled up at him. “Aside from all of the family stuff I had to deal with today, this wedding was actually really nice and it made me think about you and us a lot.”

“In a good way or a bad way?” He was so obviously teasing you because you were certain that he knew the answer to his own question.  

You shook your head at him. “I don’t even want to dignify that insane question with a response.”

He laughed a bit as he pulled your intertwined hands up and pressed a soft kiss to the back of yours, and it was hard not to smile at the action.  

“This entire day made me realize that when we eventually, one day down the road, do this, I don’t want it to be anything like this,” You told him. 

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want all of this huge fanfare and I don’t want a bunch of people that I don’t ever talk to, to be there either. If we just have the kids, and Robin and Eddie, and Nancy and Jonathan too. Oh, and Harold, of course. That’s more than enough for me. Is that okay? Does that even make sense?” You looked up at him to see if he understood what you meant, and of course he did. He always did. 

Steve nodded immediately. “That sounds perfect, honestly.” 

“I know that probably won’t be able to happen because of how involved our moms are gonna want to be with everything, but I just think the thought is nice,” You said with a halfhearted shrug. 

“We can do a small thing with just everyone that we want to be there and then let our moms take the reins on the huge fancy thing that they’ll force us to do.”

“God, you’re so smart,” You said and you wanted to sit up so that you could kiss him— you’d been craving it all night, actually— but you felt too comfortable to move right then. “So, is this a proposal, Steven?”

You were the one doing the teasing now, a smile playing on your lips as you looked up at him and he looked down and met your eyes again. 

He shook his head as he smiled at you. “Give me some time to plan the most elaborate one ever.”

“Take all the time you need,” You told him, and you genuinely meant that. In your eyes, there wasn’t any rush to get to that place. Even though you loved talking about the future with him, you didn't feel the need to make it happen before it was meant to. You two were already happy and in love and you felt so certain that that would never change, so you felt content being in this place with him. “Thank you again for coming with me to this, by the way.”

He lightly poked your side, making you let out the quietest breath of a laugh, before speaking. “You know I’d never say no to you.”

“Aw, I love it when you also get sappy with me,” You sat up then and finally leaned in to slot your lips against his. You hummed in contentment the second he eagerly reciprocated the kiss and your hand instinctually moved to the nape of his neck as you pushed yourself closer to him. 

You savored the moment for as long as you could before you had to pull away to take a breath. “Okay, now let’s get out of here and get ice cream.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

[seraphicloves]

𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏' 𝒊𝒕 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏

⊱✿⊰ summary: you're in desperate need of cash and come up with a great way to get it, even if it surprises azul

⊱✿⊰ warnings: suggestive nature, calling Azul "zuzu", fem reader w boobs, reader is yuu, references to prostitutes?, azul x yuu coded, a little bit stereotypical of guys

⊱✿⊰ notes: my sister came up w this scenario so i decided to write it! Reader is very based off of a mix of me and my sister's personality so yeah @angelssbakery

Azul Ashengrotto was a cunning man. He tried his best to remain vigilant and aware of any way he could maximize profit and stay in power. So surely, he should have thought of this before you decided to waltz into his offer and …offer yourself up for him. How improper was your homeworld to make you think this is okay?

“I just want to be paid, no trickster contracts.” You said, giving him a weak attempt at looking intimidating. Really, you were nothing more than an angry puppy in terms of strength. But for some strange reason, you were frightening. Maybe because you had taken down multiple Overblotted students - including him.

“I have stopped my selfish ways, I am now only channeling the benevolent spirit of the Sea Witch.” Azul replied calmly, trying not to show you were making him feel on edge. Why was he even entertaining this idea? You would surely cause trouble if he let you into the Monstro Lounge. You were practically a tornado, leaving only destruction in your wake.

“Well, fine.” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. Despite priding himself on being respectful, he couldn't help the way his eyes were drawn down to glance at your…

“Aha see!” You grinned, catching him in the act. He flushed a bright red and turned away, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “It's natural. Even the most gentle of gentlemen can't help it. Look at you, Mr. Formal and all.”

“You really think…exposing yourself indecently will bring in more revenue?” Azul asked, peeking a glance at you. You looked so determined, so set in your ways. It reminded him of himself, in a strange way.

“Calm down, Zuzu.” You scoffed, calling him such a casual nickname. Absently, he wondered what your previous world was like to make you so…casual with affection. “It's not like I'm trying to be a prostitute, I just want to show a little cleavage and face.”

“Stop talking so…” Azul waved his hands in front of his face, questioning if he was about to faint due to how much blood was rushing into his head. You were so..so.. entirely confident, he didn't know how you did it.

Eventually, he gave an exasperated sigh and relented, “Fine, okay. We'll let you work one shift as a trial run. If you don't make at least 50 thaumarks in tips, you can not work here.”

You grinned at him, looking ready to prove Azul very wrong.

….

“You're letting Shrimpy work here?” Floyd asked, grinning at you. You were squirming in place, suddenly regretting your decision to work here. Would Floyd squeeze you to death if you don't make enough tips?

Azul shook his head, reminiscent of a stern parent with a troublesome child. Then again, Floyd basically is a troublesome child. He's like an overeager puppy.

The Octavinelle Housewarden said, “She is in the process of getting a job here. Today is a trial run.”

To help maximize your chances for tips, you found the perfect outfit. You had a tight-fitting shirt with a low enough neckline to show some cleavage without being indecent. And you paired it with an elegant skirt. Classy but hot enough to make teenage boys drool. Your first test subjects, Jade and Floyd, were helpful in figuring out if it would work.

Jade has shamelessly looked before moving on, and Floyd was, well, Floyd. He kept looking and commenting on your outfit and how good you looked. Azul was still trying his best not to look as though seeing your provocative outfit would make his heart explode.

“Alright, I’m ready!” You said, clapping your hands together. You had even fixed up your hair and dabbed on the makeup you scrounge up from a combination of Epel and Vil. You looked pretty damn good, well by your usual standards.

You marched right out into the main area, ready to serve some looks…and customers. A few of the Monstro Lounge regulars were there, congregating in their usual spots. Forcing your lips into a big, pearly, smile you went over to them.

And that was how you were certain you'd be able to work there. One of the boy's eyes dipped low, lingering on your cleavage before glancing back up to your face. You pretended not to notice, batting your lashes coyly.

You were about to be rich as hell.

….

Boom, bitches.” You said, slapping down the hefty amount of tips you got. These boys were sort of desperate and it was honestly amazing. Like did that one Heartslaybul guy have to tip you 80 thaumarks? No, but he did probably because he was too busy staring at your chest to look at how much money he pulled from his wallet.

Azul gaped at you in surprise, blinking rapidly as if he was finally able to process that you were now employed at the Monstro Lounge. Even Jade raised his eyebrow ever so slightly, changing his usually stoic expression.

“Damn, shrimpy!” Floyd laughed, grabbing onto your money and flipping through it, “250 thaumarks? That's good money for your first day.”

You grinned, a glimmer of pride washing through you. Despite the mistakes you had made, spilling food and being a little awkward- you still made a shit ton of money. Pretty privilege is real, even here in Twisted Wonderland.

Azul sighed, sliding his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “I can't deny it. You made more than what I required of you, so you did it. Welcome to the Monstro Lounge.”

You and Floyd cheered, with Floyd lifting you up and squishing you slightly. Even Jade smiled a bit, a slight twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

….

“You knew she could make 50 thaumarks easily, didn't you?” Jade asked, watching you and Floyd celebrate from afar.

Azul said nothing for a moment, his eyes calmly watching you. He felt his face warm ever so slightly, his lips pressed into a firm.

“You have feelings for the Housewarden, Azul.” Jade said, then he gave a slight sneer as he added, “Or should I say ‘Zuzu'?”

Azul blushed and looked away, scowling ever so much. Jade laughed with a wicked sort of glee, getting the answer he wanted easily.

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.

[yourlittlegoblin]

{The Gift He Couldn't Ignore} Scaramouche x Reader

The way I giggled like a little shit at 4am when writing this is insane,,, anyways I hope you enjoy :) Fem!Reader but everyone is welcomed to read my posts!

Scaramouche is as sharp as the edge of a blade, his presence cutting through any room like a storm ready to strike. His words are quick and biting, his temper just as volatile. Many in his command know better than to cross him; even the boldest of the Fatui tread carefully around his wrath. A glare from him is enough to freeze the air, and his scorn lingers like a burn.

But you? You're the quiet ray of sunshine that somehow warms even his cold, stormy edges. You’re introverted and soft-spoken, but you have a calm presence that balances out his temper. There’s something about the way you carry yourself — unassuming, yet unwavering in your quiet kindness — that even Scaramouche can't deny.

It doesn’t take long for some of his subordinates to figure it out. When the air grows thick with tension, and Scaramouche's patience wears thin, they make a quick escape — to you. One by one, they appear at your door, frantic and desperate for refuge.

"Please," one of them says, out of breath and clutching their clipboard like it might shield them, "just let me stand here for a bit. He won’t yell at me if I’m with you."

You blink at them, slightly bewildered but not entirely surprised. “He won’t yell at you if you just get your work done.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know,” another mutters, shifting uncomfortably, “but he’ll find something to yell about anyway! We’re safer here.”

You sigh, but you let them linger, even offering them a cup of tea while you finish up your paperwork.

Eventually, Scaramouche storms in, his piercing gaze scanning the room. The Fatui scattered around you straighten like statues, their fear palpable. But when his eyes land on you, the fire dims, and something softer flickers to life.

You glance up from your papers, raising an eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

His sharp tone falters, softening into something that’s almost — almost — sheepish. “No,” he mutters, crossing his arms. He doesn’t acknowledge the others, though his gaze flicks toward them briefly.

The room is still for a beat. Then, with a low grumble, he turns on his heel and leaves. The tension dissolves instantly, and the subordinates slump in relief.

“You see?” one of them whispers, awe in their voice. “He can’t yell at us when you’re here. You’re our only hope.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “You’re all ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” another chimes in, “but it works.”

They’re not wrong. Scaramouche may be a force of nature, but around you, his storm quiets — and that’s something they’re willing to bet their lives on.

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

Soon after, you find yourself standing outside Scaramouche’s office, gently knocking on the door. His sharp voice calls out, “Enter.”

Pushing the door open, you step inside, offering him a small smile as his gaze lifts from the paperwork scattered across his desk. “Good evening,” you say softly.

He arches an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “What brings you here at this hour? Surely, you don’t intend to lecture me about yelling at my subordinates again.”

You let out a small chuckle, shaking your head. “Not this time.” Walking closer, you reach into your pocket and pull out a small, delicate trinket — a little bird carved from polished wood, its wings spread mid-flight.

“What’s that?” Scaramouche asks, his tone skeptical but laced with curiosity.

“I was wandering through the market earlier,” you begin, holding out the trinket, “and I saw this at one of the stalls. It made me think of you.”

He blinks, his eyes narrowing slightly, though you notice the faintest hint of color brushing his cheeks. “A bird?”

You nod, your voice soft as you explain. “It reminded me of… soaring high. Of reaching for your goals, your ambitions. I thought it might be a nice way to convey my wishes for your endeavors to end in success.”

For a moment, Scaramouche says nothing, his eyes flickering between you and the trinket in your hand. Then, slowly, he reaches out and takes it, his fingers brushing against yours. He examines the bird closely, running his thumb over its smooth surface.

“It’s… fine craftsmanship,” he mutters, though his voice has lost some of its usual sharpness.

You smile, rubbing your eyes as a small yawn escapes you. “I’m glad you like it.”

At the sound of your yawn, Scaramouche’s gaze snaps to you, his expression shifting. The faint shadows under your eyes and the way your posture droops don’t escape his notice.

“You’re tired,” he states, his tone firm but quieter than usual.

“I’m fine,” you say with a slight wave of your hand, though your body betrays you with another yawn.

“Don’t give me that,” he snaps, though there’s no real bite in his words. He sets the trinket carefully on his desk before standing and stepping around to your side. “Wandering the markets, running errands, and now coming to see me? Do you even know when to stop?”

You open your mouth to respond, but the glare he gives you silences whatever excuse you were about to give.

“Go to bed,” he orders, crossing his arms as he towers slightly over you. “Now.”

“Scaramouche, I’m fine—”

“Do I need to carry you there myself?” he interrupts, narrowing his eyes in challenge.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

Scaramouche’s sharp eyes follow your every move as you rub your eyes and yawn once again, prompting an exasperated sigh from him. "You're hopeless," he mutters, setting the bird trinket carefully on the corner of his desk.

Before you can protest, he waves a hand dismissively. "The subordinate quarters are too far, and knowing you, you'll find an excuse not to rest anyway. Sleep here, on the couch."

You blink at him in surprise, glancing over at the modestly cushioned sofa tucked against the wall of his office. "Here? Are you serious?"

He gives you a look, one eyebrow arched in that signature Scaramouche way that screams do not argue with me. "Yes, here. Or do you want me to watch you stumble through the halls half-asleep only to collapse somewhere?"

You hesitate, fidgeting slightly. "I don't want to intrude..."

"You're not. Sit down before I make you." His voice is firm, but there's no harshness in it, only a strange undercurrent of care he’s trying desperately to hide.

With a small sigh, you relent, removing your coat and draping it over your shoulders like a makeshift blanket. The couch is surprisingly comfortable, and as you settle in, you hear him grumble, “I doubt you’ll actually sleep.”

“Watch me,” you murmur softly, already feeling the warmth of the room seep into you. The day’s exhaustion catches up all at once, and before you know it, your eyes grow heavy and drift shut.

Scaramouche leans against his desk, arms crossed, watching as your breathing evens out. “Idiot,” he mutters under his breath, though his gaze softens ever so slightly. He picks up the bird trinket once more, his thumb brushing over its polished wings as he glances between it and your peaceful, sleeping form.

For the first time in what feels like an eternity, his office feels a little less cold.

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

When you wake up, a comforting warmth envelopes you, much cozier than your thin coat could ever provide. You blink groggily and glance down to see Scaramouche's thick fur coat draped over you, its plush fabric soft against your skin. It carries his unmistakable scent—subtle hints of sharp spice and something faintly sweet, undeniably him.

For a moment, you’re caught between surprise and a quiet flutter in your chest. Carefully sitting up, you adjust the coat, its weight still lingering over your shoulders like a protective embrace.

Your gaze shifts toward Scaramouche, seated at his desk. His usual frown is gone, replaced by a calm, almost contemplative expression. He holds something small in his hands—a few of the trinkets you’ve given him over time. A bead here, a charm there, and even a tiny polished stone you had insisted would bring him good luck during one of his more ambitious missions.

He turns them over one by one, his gloved fingers tracing each object with uncharacteristic gentleness. It’s a rare sight, one that tugs at your heartstrings in a way you can’t quite describe.

You watch in silence, your heart growing warmer with every moment. Despite his sharp words and cold demeanor, this little glimpse of him—his quiet appreciation for the small things you’ve shared—makes all his rough edges seem a little softer.

You pull the coat tighter around yourself, smiling faintly as you silently decide to treasure this fleeting, tender moment for as long as you can.

Then Scaramouche looks up, startled to find your eyes on him. His surprise is brief, but it’s enough to break the tranquil moment. “How long have you been awake?” he asks sharply, though his tone carries a hint of embarrassment.

“I just woke up,” you murmur, still wrapped in his fur coat. Your gaze drifts back to the trinkets scattered on his desk, and without thinking, you say softly, “You kept them.”

He scoffs, turning his head slightly as if to hide the faintest flush creeping up his neck. “Of course, I kept them. What do you take me for? I’m not someone so lowly as to toss away gifts given with sincere thoughts behind them.”

Despite his words, there’s a subtle defensiveness in his tone, almost as if the notion of doing otherwise would be an unthinkable affront. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms with a huff, and adds, “Honestly, you’re such a fool sometimes, thinking I wouldn’t.”

You can’t help but smile at his reaction, though the warmth in your chest only grows. “Thank you,” you whisper.

“Don’t get used to it, idiot,” he mutters, looking away but making no move to reclaim his coat from your shoulders.

[simpee9000]

Too Easily - K. Bakugo - 2 -

Based off this Blurb and here's Part One

It was too easy, every part of it. How you met him, how you interacted with him, how quickly he got used to you. Every part of it was too easy, too good to be true. But he asked you anyway, he wanted you anyway. You figured it was just another thing in life that came easily. He showed you another way of living, the thrill of romance. The increased heartbeat that came when next to a crush. The a flutter in your stomach when he called your name. The buzz of warmth that covered your entire being after just one kiss. CW: swearing and i think that's it? Word Count: 4k

---

"You know, bringing me dinner each night proves nothing," you murmured, only flashing your eyes away from the mountain of paperwork you had for a moment to eye him.

Bakugo brushed you off with a grunt, setting down a portion of food in front of you before moving to grab an extra chair to sit adjacent to you. You watched his forearm flex when he whipped the chair around so he could sit on it backwards.

You pushed away the stack of paperwork to give him your attention, you wanted to make this difficult for him, not impossible. "So what have you brought me tonight?" you picked up your utensils and peered over the bowl that he placed in front of you.

"Spicy curry, its my favorite," he shuffled his seat closer so he could reach to take the cover off your meal and his.

"Oh- how spicy?" you gave him an unsure look.

"Mine's spicy as fuck, yours?" he shrugged, "I made mild but you can add more if you want."

You nodded, silently acknowledging the fact that he got your serving entirely separate. The taste of the first bite had you humming, "Where did you get this? Is this from that new restaurant down the street? Kirishima said it's amazing."

He scrunched his face, "Ha? I made this. No restaurant can cook like I can."

"You cook?" you had to reevaluate your entire opinion now.

"I've been cooking each meal," he stared at you blankly.

Each meal was insane. He brought you a new dish every night for the past three weeks. You thought he was just spending a shit ton of money, but no, he was putting thought into each dish. He already went out of the way to meet you towards the end of your shift at work to feed you, but he cooked it all? "You're an amazing cook," you decided to say, humming with another bite of the food.

" 'course I am," he grumbled, but you saw his chest puff out in pride. He was easy to read with that, you could tell when his ego flared.

"Besides when you add too much spice," you mumbled.

"I like spicy food, deal with it," he huffed out, rolling his eyes when you added extra spicy to your dish, "I made it mild as hell for you."

"Thanks, wouldn't have a tongue if you had it your way," you joked, kicking at his shoe when he gave you a suggestive look.

You've been learning a lot about him recently. He made sure to learn your schedule so he could see you often. You were busy with university and then had to work at the company after class until 8pm, so he always came in around 7. It was sweet. He worked hard to make you aware of his feelings, but you were still iffy. Everything has been very public between the two of you, you'd know once it settled down.

But Bakugo still tried to whoo you regardless, it was interesting to see his public image verses how he treated you. Showed him in a new light. You know how similar he was to his dad, but the public and his classmate would say he is only like his mom. He was sharing the small quirks about him, like tonight with his favorite food and that he cooked. It was nice, you wanted to know more, you couldn''t help analyzing everything.

It's why you noticed him flipping his phone over when a call rang through. Eyeing his reaction, how he just moved on from it, only noticing your look when he finally looked away from his food. "What?"

"Who called?" you tried to ask as if you didn't care, scrapping the last of your food out of the bowl.

"A dumbass spark plug," he answered, pushing his bowl slightly away from him and crossing his arms onto the back of the chair in front of him. "Jealous?"

"No, just concerning that a pro hero is ditching calls," you shrugged off.

"He just wants me to go to this stupid hang out," he defends.

"You should go then," you push.

"We could go somewhere, you were talking about grabbing a new book from that shop off the near my patrol route, right?"

You looked at him weirdly, you mentioned that over a month ago. Blabbing on about a sale you wanted to catch they had each year, he seemed like he ignored it but apparently not.

"I meant for you to go with your friends- you hardly see them," you leaned back into your chair to relax and get your face further from the annoying paperwork on your desk.

"The sale is ending ain't it? I know your dumbass didn't grab it yet either," he pushed himself up to stand, grabbing his coat and nodding his head to the door, "Let's go."

You'd want to say you went out of him pushing you to go, but you were mesmerized at how much he picked up from what you said. So you scrambled to follow after him, helping pick up everything before walking down to his car to go to the bookstore. They were just about to close before you came in a bought the book you so heavily praised, well Bakugo bought it. He refused to let you.

"Happy?" he stuffed his hands in his pocket as he looked at you, walking back towards his car.

"You really didn't have to buy it, you already drove and everything," you huffed.

"I buy stuff to help my credit score, nothin' insane," he grumbled after you mentioned it for the millionth time.

"Sure," you laughed, "Then help me boost my credit score and let me buy you a coffee or something soon."

"Asking me out, books?" he smirked at you.

You rolled your eyes, "If that's what you want to call it sure."

His steps faltered for a moment as he fumbled for his car keys to unlock the door for you, opening it before you as well. "That offer work for tonight?"

"Isn't your bedtime at 8:30? It's already 9, old man," you joked, sitting back down in his car.

He response with a fake laugh and shut your door gently before getting into his. About to respond before his phone rang through, and he answered it, "What?" he barked out.

"Sorry- I know you had your phone off but Denki is-" you heard a loud cry cut Kirishima's voice off, "He's plastered. Sero left with someone and Mina is trying to leave with me."

"I don't know how that means an emergency," Bakugo grumbles, "I'm busy."

Kirishima sighed, "Dude please, Mina is actually trying to leave with me, you know how long I've been waiting for this."

Bakugo huffed, his shoulders slumping as he gave in, "What do you want me to do?"

"Thank god, just come to the bar and take Denki home, please, I owe you so much," Kirishima rushed in relief.

"Yeah," Bakugo ended the call without much less, cutting out the end of Kirishima's millionth thank you. "You want me to drop you off before?"

You shook your head, "Nah, the bar is close right? Don't need to waste time to do that."

He side-eyed you, "Yeah."

It was easy to tell he was annoyed. With how he hardly said a word during the drive, and just walked with you inside the bar. Making a beeline to the obnoxious group of his friends. You see why Kirishima called for help. Mina was obviously flirting with him but also noticeably annoyed at Kaminari, who was drunk as hell.

"Thank you so muc-" Kirishima started his rant again before he locked eyes with you, "I didn't know you guys were hanging out-" he looked back at Bakugo, "I'm sorry-"

"It's fine," Bakugo cut him off.

Kaminari wailed drunkenly, "Even Bakugo has his girlfriend here, what the fuck."

"What is dumbass on about?" Bakugo ignored his friend directly, even though he was face down in a drink.

"His recent girlfriend left him, again," Mina explained, "She said it was for real this time and blocked him."

Bakugo just rolled his eyes, "Just help me get this dumbass in my car."

"Oh nah, I don't wanna third wheel again," Kaminari kicked away, flopping in the booth to avoid Kirishima grabbing him.

He looked miserable, hair a mess, face just tired, and his energy was entirely different to how he always acted. You also took him as a playboy, but if this is how he acted with a breakup? You doubted it.

"Stop fucking flailing your arms-"

"I'm not getting in a car with you and your girlfriend," he kicked Bakugo's hand away, like a child, "Leave me to drown in my sorrows."

Bakugo grumbled, "She's not my fuking girlfriend, it's a PR relationship, now shut the fuck up and get to my car," he hissed.

You crossed your arms uncomfortably, his friends just looked at you unsurprised. Which is why you were rather glad that Kaminari stopped acting like a child to get into the car.

Mina and Kirishima gave you a polite hug after they finished shoving Kaminari in Bakugo's car, leaving with their hands interlocked.

The radio was constantly being turned up to ignore Kaminari's questions and random rants before he called out to you. You glared at Bakugo to make sure he didn't turn it back up, you felt bad for the guy.

He seemed happy you were giving him attention, "So it's all for PR, so why hang out with each other?"

"Just because it's for PR doesn't mean that's all I want, idiot," Bakugo spoke with a smaller bite than before, leaving Denki to just sit and think.

"Then why not actually date?" Kaminari asked you, to which you just shrugged.

"I thought we were, but then he sprung it on me that we weren't, so here we are," you had your head turned to watch him, and gave a bittersweet smile.

"So what was so great about Kacchan that made you say yes to him?" Kaminari lolled his head back as he looked at you.

You took in his question, he was drunk as hell but you knew how he felt, "He was the first guy that asked me out and looked like he meant it- but I have bad judgement so I'm not the best person to ask."

Bakugo was previously annoyed, but now he just looked sad after what you said, guilty.

"I mean it everytime I ask a girl out, should I care more? That's what he does," Kaminari groaned as he pulled himself up to lean on your car seat. "Or is it like a look thing- am I ugly?"

"You're not ugly," you laughed lightly, "You just need to show a lot more effort maybe, I don't know much but I can tell it seems like you are too scattered to care about a single person. So maybe focus up, on one girl, or better yet just focus on yourself. Doing that is often more attractive than chasing."

"Your saying, I just wait for them to come to me?"

"I'm saying to better yourself in the meantime, but sure," you shrugged, turning to face the road again.

You waited in the car as Bakugo brought Kaminari to his apartment, you sat there a full thirty minutes before Bakugo was back. Saying he had to drop you off at your car because he had to stay with Kaminari. Saying he kept trying to short circuit himself.

Bakugo's worry was sweet to see, because even though he acted annoyed, he was concerned.

It boosted your view on him by a lot, seeing that he cared so much for others was nice.

---

Work was no different than any other day. Heros sometimes coming in to get something worked out and then leaving. Business as usually. So you didn't bat an eye when Inasa Yoarashi came straight to your desk.

"Hello," you looked up from your papers, he often chatted with you whenever he had to stop by. He was loudspoken and super upbeat, you'd be intimidated otherwise. He was tall as hell.

"Hello," he nodded at you, loud but polite.

"What's brought you here?" you smiled before looking down to shift some papers.

"I was wondering your schedule. What time are you off work, if you don't mind me asking," he ask loudly, when you glanced up at him, he looked nervous. A slight flush to his face and a straight posture.

You looked at your calendar, "I'll be off at 8, why?"

"I was wanting to court you."

The terminology made your eyes bug out of your head, "What now?"

"Would you like to go on a date?"

Your mouth felt dry with how straight forward this conversation was. "I thought you- Haven't you seen about Bakugo and me?" you stuttered with how this could happen. You and Bakugo were everywhere on social media.

He gave you an odd look, a slight tilt to his head, "Why would I care that you had a PR relationship? That's none of my business. Though, now that it's over, I'd love to pursue a real relationship with you."

You just blinked at him, how in the world did he know. "I'll have to think on it-"

Before anymore words could leave your mouth, you saw your dad stomping into the room. The entire office went silent as your father stared at you. His presence alone was intimidating, but when he was mad it was worse. He just crossed his arms and stared at you, waiting. It was obvious he'd blow up if there wasn't a hero in the room, couldn't ruin his image.

"Sorry- We'll have to talk later," you brushed your slacks off as you stood, straightening the fabric.

"I'll stop by tomorrow," he nodded, fully of confidence as he left.

Leaving you to follow your father to his office.

The second the door clicked shut behind you, he turned around to glare at you.

"Can you tell me why your name is plastered all over social media? Over a PR relationship no one fucking asked for?" he snapped, "Your name, is our name. Do you even fucking think?"

"I didn't know he was going to go public about it- he hasn't messaged me at all-"

"I don't want to hear you ramble with excuses. Fix it," he hisssed, leaving with the unspoken threat.

"How-"

"Fix it," he cut you off, "I don't care how, but fix it."

You nodded before leaving. You didn't want to lose your job, and he'd cut you off fully if you didn't fix anything. He'd disown you publicly if this continued. He was all about his image, it was all you could think about as you walked back to your desk. The image of this family had to stick professional, so a dating scandal was pathetic to paste next to the perfect image.

Bakugo still hasn't messaged you, no warning, nothing. Just a public video of him being interviewed plastered all over socials.

"How's your girlfriend?"

He already looked annoyed but he just snapped, "She's not my fucking girlfriend, it's for PR and it's idiotic. Ruined so much and wasted my fucking time, I'm sick of it."

The clip ended there, but enough was said.

If that's how he felt, there was no need for him to message you again. It was clear he finally gave up trying to prove it wasn't for PR. Clearly it all was.

You held your face in your hands, the day couldn't get worse. Everything was piling.

There was no fixing this, which is the worst of it all. All you could do was move past it.

Part of you wished for Bakugo to show up for dinner as he always did, but he never did.

So you packed up and left, only to face countless interviewers.

"Why fake date?"

"Where you trying to climb the ranks in the office?"

"Was it to help his image or his?"

"Why you?"

You asked yourself the last one often, because truly, why did he have to come up and chose you?

While biting your tongue, you straighten your posture, "The relationship was for the public to calm down the dating rumors that surround Dynamight-"

Maybe you added too much, because even with media training, this is unpredictable.

"Is he dating someone else?

"What's the reason to hide?"

You winced at that countless questions being thrown at you. "He is still a true friend- no more questions please-" You were practically swarmed with cameras, looking into the office behind you with a panic, only being able to get away because several cop cars were racing down the street.

Sirens calling everyone's attention so you could escape, you could never be more thankful.

---

You didn't even make it out of the office until it was officially locked up by the security, walking with them to catch a breath.

The next day was filed with hero incidents and a mass flood caused by a villian taking up all posts on social media. Everyone was focused on that, even your father.

Everything was more normal than you would of liked. Incidents were common, so you didn't bat an eye.

The usual part of the day that you disliked was Inasa Yoarashi walking straight up to your desk at the time Bakugo normally would.

"About what I proposed yesterday?" he started, shoulders back in confidence, "Would you take me up on that offer to go on a date?"

Unfortunately you missed how Bakugo was the one that tried to get you to go on date. Thinking about how Bakugo always had his shoulders back in confidence. But it wasn't the same. Bakugo did it all with an attitude that could back it, not like Inasa would with being uptight.

He was handsome, but he didn't have that sharp look to his features. He was broad but didn't have that leaner build that Bakugo had. He was a complete different hero.

So you spoke your answer, "I'd like-"

"The fuck," you heard Bakugo's voice in shock ring from behind Inasa, who turned to look as well.

Bakugo had stealth training, but normally he had too loud of steps in the office. He was broad and tall but not as much as Inasa. That's all you could explain to yourself on how he was there.

He had no reason to be there.

He ended it publically.

Your mind blurred they're aggressive introductions.

"Did ya' tell him about us?" Bakugo glared at you.

"There's an us?" you asked back. Your mind was not catching up to what was happening.

Bakugo was here asking about you after saying you were a waste of time. Right when a perfectly normal guy was asking you out. With your brain telling you to chose the normal and easy option, while your heart was telling you to chose the complicated blonde.

"There isn't?" Bakugo hissed.

"I know about the PR-" Inasa tried to voice.

"I'm not fuckin' talking to you, or that," Bakugo pointed an aggressive finger at Inasa then turned to you again, "There isn't an us?"

"Is there?" you went back and forth, "You ended it publicly."

"Yeah, publicly," he glared at you, practically hissing out the words, "It's what you wanted."

"No it's not- you didn't even text me or show up yesterday to warn me," your eyes flashed to Inasa apologetically.

Bakugo blinked at you, "I don't talk to you for one day and you jump onto the next guy?" he pointed in Inasa's direction without looking, just glaring at you.

"You broke it off-" you defended, looking to Inasa, "I'm sorry you had to see this, Bakugo, could you give us a second?"

"What?" he looked apauled.

You got up and gestured for Inasa to follow you near the elevator, leaving Bakugo at your desk.

"Look, I appreciate the gesture, but I think it's best if we don't. I'm a public mess right now-" you winced throughout every part of rejecting Inasa, but you hardly knew him and what you did know, you only compared to Bakugo.

He nodded, "Understood, have a good day."

His calm rejection had you following his figure with your eyes until the elevator closed your view. Only then did you shake your head and walk to Bakugo.

"You made me wait while you agreed to a date with that dude?" Bakugo just had a blank look on his face.

Everyone was looking at you, so you pulled him into the closest empty conference room.

"You couldn't of warned me? You couldn't of texted? You couldn't of done anything differently? Said it less harsh? Think about my feelings?" you spat at him, running through of the questions you could think off.

"Can you slow the fuck down- why do you even care if your just gonna go date that tornado?"

"Can't you just tell me how you feel for once?" you crossed your arms.

"I feel," he mocked, "Like I don't want you to date that fuckass."

"Real mature Bakugo, go bad mouth me and avoid me just to prohibit me from moving on."

He ran his hand through his hair then down his face with a harsh sigh, "Really? I didn't warn you because my phone broke. That little press person caught me right after my phone died, then I lost it in the flood. I was annoyed and wanting to actually start something with you, so I tried to make it clear to them in a way you would understand."

"How would I understand what you said? All you did was call it idiotic."

"I also said it was wasting my time, our time. It ruined the start off anything we could of had."

"How was I supposed to get that? You set that up to fail," you threw your hands up in defeat.

He shrugged, "It was stupid, whatever, doesn't matter since you decided on the wind turbine."

"I told him no, I chose you, now you can swallow your feelings over that," you huffed, annoyed how he kept trailing back to that, "Why did you even think I didn't want a public relationship? The public part wasn't the issue."

Bakugo blinked at you, "It's all you fuckin talk about-"

"Yeah, because I didn't like how it started, but now we could never have a relationship that's known, it'd look weird and cause drama-"

"So we keep it to ourselves, we start as just us," he shrugs.

"That'll be so difficult, no too long looks, no touching, we wouldn't be able to get close to each other without rumors blowing up."

"That's where the tension is, Books. It'd be too easy if everyone just knew our business," he smirke, "Builds tension."

You rolled your eyes, "There's already enough tension."

"So you chose me? You actually want something?" the air of aggressiveness of the conversation fell away as he spoke now.

"I wanted something before you even started or ended it," you smiled, "You keep winning me over."

"I am a winner," he shrugged, his cocky energy back the second he actually could back it up. Stepping closer into your space after the distance was placed between you two.

You smiled, pushing your arm out to keep distance, looking out of the windows to the conference room and seeing the audience you had. "We agreed it'd be too easy if they knew."

He rolled his eyes but stepped back, "Everything comes too easily to me."

"Uh huh, sure," you joked, "So what's your plan?"

"Come over, I'll make ya favorite," his confidence made you smile and agree before leaving bashfully.

Seeing him next at his house. Sharing a real first date and a real kiss, planning the moves for the next.

---

I don't know how to feel about this but here you guys go! The much requested Part 2!! (I struggled heavily)

[little-mrs-morales]

Public Enemy

Dieter Bravo x PA F!Reader

Summary: Dieter is dramatic about another meme moment from his life.

Warning: lot of Fluff!

"I'm public enemy number one," Dieter moaned dramatically, sprawling across the couch in your shared trailer. A green Sheraton robe slipped off his shoulder in his typical over-the-top fashion. "Did you see the comments? They're calling me a monster! A child kicker! A baby dropper!"

You barely looked up from your phone, scrolling through the endless barrage of emails from PR. Another day, another Bravo scandal. "You didn't kickt he kid, Dieter. You tripped, the kid tripped. Both of you ended up face down on the sidewalk. It's not like you threw them into traffic."

"It doesn’t matter what actually happened!" He sat up, clutching the edge of the robe like a scandalized Victorian widow. "What matters is how it looks! Have you seen the memes? My face is everywhere! There's one of me Photoshopped as a soccer player about to score—"

"Yeah, I’ve seen it," you interrupted chuckling, holding up your phone to show him. "You’re not even in the top 20 trending topics anymore. Taylor Swift’s cat has taken over."

Dieter squinted at the screen like you’d just insulted his entire existence."Wait, I’m not in the top 20? People don’t even care that I kicked a kid?"

"You didn’t kick the kid!" you repeated, your patience fraying at the edges. "And no, they don’t care. The world has moved on, as it always does. You’re not public enemy number one. You’re not even close."

He slumped back against the couch, deflated. "Well, that’s... disappointing. I thought at least I’d get some kind of villain arc out of this."

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound breaking through his pitiful pout. Setting your phone down, you crossed the room and dropped onto the couch beside him. "Relax, Dieter. You’re not a villain. You’re just… clumsy. And honestly? That kid tripped first. If anything, they should be apologizing to you." 

His eyes lit up like a child being told they could have dessert before dinner. "You think so?" 

"No," you deadpanned, pushing his shoulder lightly. "But I think we can spin this. You’ve got a puppy calendar shoot next week. We’ll post a few pictures, make people forget about the kid thing. Puppies fix everything."

Dieter groaned, flopping dramatically against you. "Fine. But only if you promise to get me one of those puppies after the shoot. I need emotional support after this trauma."

"Trauma?" You rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile. "You tripped on the sidewalk. The kid's probably forgotten about it already."

"Yeah, but the memes will live forever," he muttered into your shoulder. 

You sighed, patting his head like the overgrown child he was. "And so will your career, Dieter. Now stop sulking. We’ve got work to do."

For a moment, he was quiet, his head resting comfortably on your shoulder. Then, in typical Dieter fashion, he whispered, "You’ll still love me when I’m canceled, right?"

You didn’t even hesitate. "Dieter, you’re not even in the top 20 reasons people are mad today. You are not gonna get canceled. Definitely not after the puppy calendar."

He grinned, a spark of his usual mischief returning. "Or… I can make a nude calendar," he added, shifting to lay across the couch and dropping his head dramatically into your lap. "I mean, I’m hot as hell. People would eat that up."

You smacked his forehead lightly, earning an exaggerated groan. "Ow! Rude!" he whined, tilting his head to pout at you. "And you can’t even deny it. You do love the nudes I send when we’re apart!"

Your hand instinctively moved to his messy hair, smoothing it out in slow strokes. "Dieter," you warned, trying not to smile. 

He caught the faint curve of your lips and smirked. "See? You can’t deny it. You’re blushing." 

"I am not blushing," you countered, your fingers still threading through his wild curls. 

"You are," he teased, closing his eyes and sinking further into your touch. His voice dropped into a theatrical sigh. "But even if you weren’t, I’d forgive you. Because I’m a generous man. A kind man. A man who loves you even when you’re mean to me."

You rolled your eyes, your fingers gently tugging at his hair. "You’re impossible."

He opened one eye, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "Yeah, but I’m your impossible." 

Your teasing expression softened. "You are. And I love you, ridiculousness and all." 

That took the wind out of his dramatics. For a moment, his grin faltered, replaced by something more genuine. "Good," he murmured, his voice quieter now. "Because I love you too."

You smiled, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. "And you’re stuck with me."

"Best decision of your life," he quipped, though his words held none of his usual bravado. He closed his eyes again, his body finally relaxing in your lap. 

As your fingers continued to stroke his hair, he added with a sleepy grin, "Now, about that nude calendar…"

You smacked his shoulder lightly, shaking your head with a laugh. 

"See? Mean to me, wanted one for your eyes only" he mumbled, already halfway to sleep. 

And for once, the world outside didn’t matter. Just you, Dieter, and the soft rhythm of your breathing together. 

[giggle-guru]

Last audio of this week! I’ll probably go back to a few Hazbin ones after this because I know there’s a few of you out there that have been waiting anxiously for a certain someone to get wrecked. Don’t worry…it’s coming…hehehe. Thank you again for the ask @gaia-001 lmao like this script was one I wanted to do SO long ago and forgot about it (and please I’m sorry I didn’t use your prompt I swear I will if you want me to 😭)

In this one, since it’s my first go at an X Listener, the background is at the beginning of the script!

Script issss beeellloooowww the cut!

[Visual Note: Dimly lit daycare as the listener sneaks around, hiding from Moon. In this situation, the listener has been an Attendant working with Sun and Moon for a while now. They confessed that they had not been sleeping well. Moon, not impressed by the listeners' lack of sleep, decided to take matters into his own hands. This has led to him chasing the listener around the daycare in an attempt to get them to sleep with him on their shift. After all, he could have handled it without them.]

[Audio Note: Soft footsteps, jingles of bells]

Moon: Ohh, naughty, naughty little star…you’ve been up far too long haven’t you? Tsk, tsk…Do you think you can keep working like this? Not on my watch you see.

Moon: You know I’m going to find you. I always do. The longer you wait…well, let’s just say someone is getting hungry…

[Audio Note: Soft footsteps as Listener moves to another spot]

Moon: I’m sure you’re wondering who? Well, his goes by the tickle monster of course…and I don’t think it’s very wise of you to keep him waiting…

[Pause]

Moon: Hmm…I know you’re in here somewhere little starlight. I can feel it. I can hear it. Those little footsteps…little breaths…little…heartbeats…

Moon: You can’t hide forever…the tickle monster is just aching to scribble down your sides…tease those sensitive ribs…

[Visual Note: Listener tries to switch spots, climbing down the equipment and onto the floor, but…]

[Audio Note: Creak of a floorboard.]

Moon: A-ha! Got you.

[Audio Note: Two pairs of footsteps running.]

Moon: Run, run, little one! You won’t escape. You can’t escape the tickle monster! Hehehe…

[Visual Note: Moon manages to leap and tackle the Listener onto some soft mats…used for napping…oh he had this planned out the entire time, didn’t he?]

[Audio Note: Soft thud, Moon pinning Listenenr]

Moon: Got you, starlight…Now, what have I told you about skipping out on rest, hmm? Naughty Attendants that don’t take care of themselves know they’re going to be visited by the tickle monster, and yet…they still don’t sleep enough.

[Visual Note: He wiggles his fingers teasingly, as the Listener squirms below him]

[Audio Note: Faint jingling of bells]

Moon: Oh, you’re already squirming? But I haven’t even started yet! That can’t be good for you…

[Visual Note: He begins lightly tickling the Listener’s sides.]

Moon: Now then, let’s start with your sides…up and down…oh dear, you’re letting small giggles out already? Such a sensitive little star! I’m barely touching you. And you know the tickle monster is far more ruthless…

[Visual note: He moves to their stomach, now wiggling his fingers properly into them.]

Moon: Such a cute little tummy you have here…I just want to eat you up, starlight. But I can’t do that can I? So I guess I’m just going to have to pinch and tease around your stomach…right here…right there…keep giggling for me…

[Visual note: He now suddenly jumps to the ribs.]

Moon: I wonder…are you more ticklish here? Or…here? Right along those ribs of yours…oh, I think it must be a tie…wait…let me just go back down here…you know how thorough the tickle monster likes to be…and back up…I think we might just have to agree that your ribs are a tad worse, aren’t they?

[Visual note: He moves higher to the underarms.]

Moon: There’s that little squeal. Are these underarms of yours a weak spot? Perfect, let’s see how much you can handle if I dig into them right here…tickle, tickle, starlight…keep laughing for me…you can squirm all you want, but you’re not going anywhere! Naughty attendants that don’t sleep properly don’t get to escape their punishment…and the tickle monster is still hungry…

[Visual Note: He changes tactics, now gently tracing along the Listener’s chin and neck.]

Moon: Let’s go back to that light, teasing tracing…I need a second to digest those little laughs of yours…but don’t think your safe, my little star…the tickle monster has more he wants to do to you to really tucker you out…there we go…nice soft giggles…and…

[Visual Note: He moves down suddenly, to the Listeners knees and thighs, alternating between gentle squeezing and scribbling.]

Moon: Back we go! There are those satisfying laughs I love so much….I can see every ticklish spot…and guess what? They’re all mine to devour…you’re just full of surprises aren’t you? The tickle monster is oh so pleased with your laughter…and you’ve stopped squirming, now? Are you giving in? Getting a little tired?

[Visual Note: Moon moves lower…]

Moon: That’s what I like to see…tickle, tickle…lower and lower…I better make sure you’re all tuckered out…and what better way than to go for the ultimate weak spot? You’re little feet…

[Visual Note: Moon moves off the listener to lock their ankles in an iron-viced grip.]

Moon: Tickle tickle…so hysterical now, aren’t we? Shall we count your wiggly little toes? One…two…three…oh all ten of them belong to the tickle monster now! And they’re oh-so-ticklish, aren’t they? Why are you squealing so much? Can’t take a little tickling? You know you’ve earned this. Staying up too late, skipping out on your sleep…you won’t be so stubborn now once I’m through with you…

[Visual Note: The Listener now protests, attempting apologies through their laughter]

Moon: Ah, ah, no excuses now! The tickle monster won’t stop until your laughter becomes little breathless gasps…

[Visual Note: Once again, Moon switches his positioning, attacking any spot he can reach, causing the Listener to indeed become breathless]

Moon: You’re so ticklish everywhere! How delightful! Now then, my adorable star, it looks like you finally are learning your lesson. Will you be joining me and resting the night away? Do you think the tickle monster is satisfied with his meal? You do? You are all tuckered out now aren’t you…goood…maybe you’ll listen to be when I tell you to rest? Yes, you will? Such frantic nodding. But we all know you want to go through this whole process once more…don’t you? You love being tickled? That’s what I thought.

[Visual Note: Moon stops his tickling, shifting into a caring tone and settling the Listener onto the mat, stroking their hair.]

[Audio Note: Jingling fades.]

Moon: There we go…much better, isn’t it, starlight? Close those sleepy eyes…I’ll take care of everything now…there we go…much better, don’t you think? You’ve earned your rest. Let all those worries slip away…that’s right…drift off…there we are…good little star…Goodnight…

[dcxdpdabbles]

I am feral for fake dating au and alley boyfriends goes so hard, I am on my hands and knees begging for a part 3

Tim's afternoon meeting gets canceled due to three of the members coming down with the flu. Usually, he would have just sent them a recording of what they missed, but since the three were presenting and the meeting was meant to be with the five department heads, he feels it would be best to reschedule.

There was only so much HR could report to him, after all. This meant he had the entire afternoon off.

Tim usually uses the free time he finds himself with to get a head start on other work. Maybe even some crake some cases. But today, he knew Danny was off from his job. His roommate was likely at home watching that new show he really got into.

Last night, he explained the entire plot over their dinner- Danny came from one of those families that always ate dinner at the same time- and went as far as to reveal fun facts he learned about the production team in charge of his show.

Tim didn't understand why Danny was so excited to know the lighting effects used only for a particular character. Nor did he find it as fascinating.

However, watching him get excitable was endearing enough that he listened to the whole thing. Then, he sat down to watch the show, finding it adorable that Danny couldn't stop speaking to the screen as if the characters could hear him.

Tim stares at his computer screen, trying his best to get himself to focus. The data sheets needed some work, but he had two weeks to complete it, and he really wasn't in the mood to verify so much work if he wasn't completely focused.

He glances at the clock, watching the little red hand tick. He insisted on having a face clock in his office instead of just having an electrical one because he found the ticking sound comforting.

Now, it merely annoyed him. That only happens when he's been trapped inside the office for too long or gone out as Red Robin so much he neglected his Tim Drake side. He could take the afternoon off, but what fun would that be?

He had also been trapped at home for a long time, working remotely whenever he could. Tim wanted to go out, but he didn't want to do that alone.

It would be so dull to just go to the same places on his lonesome as it would be sitting in his office or in his room. He could play video games or watch a movie with his roommate, but it wasn't the same of getting outside for a little while

His eyes landed on his cell phone. He could call Danny and ask if he wanted to go out today, but he had no idea what to do. He could take Danny shopping again- apparently, his roommate had no actual use for suits at his barista job, so the two had gone to the mall and gotten him some jeans and t-shirts, but the other seemed tired of that the last time.

Tim didn't want to spend money at the movies either because he wanted to do something active. The problem was that Danny hated spots with a passion and wasn't one for hiking or walking. They could go to a place to eat, but going out just for food wasn't something they could fill a whole afternoon with, not to mention Gotham's cold wave had most of the hang-out places closed until summer.

How hard was it to think of something to do in a city this big?

His eyes shift over to his computer before he caves. He quickly changes the docking station on his work computer to his personal laptop, eyes dancing between his two monitors.

He types into the search engine Where to take your roommate in Gotham City.. The first result is a list of locations, but Tim finds that they are all well-known tourist places, which is something he would rather avoid. He's just not up for a big crowd.

The following result is restaurants to try, which again isn't enough to fill the entire afternoon with- he notes to visit the ramen place because Danny mentioned he wanted to have some three days ago. He grows irritated with the similar lists he clicks until he stumbles across a new store that opened only a week ago.

It's new enough that most people don't know about it, which means they could enjoy a fun new activity since it is a random Tuesday.

Tim checks the store times, confirms that they could be there for a few hours and then reaches for his phone. Three taps later, a dull ringing sounds in his ear as he waits for Danny to answer.

Initially, he didn't want to go shopping, but he thought Danny would enjoy this shop more than any clothes store.

"Yellow?" Danny chirps in his ear, warm and bright. His voice reminds him of the comfortable nights when he's brewing Tim a lovely London Fog Late.

At once, Tim feels himself relaxed. "Hey, Danny. I have the afternoon off. I was wondering if you wanted to hang out?"

"Oh, sure! What do you want to do?"

Tim looks up at the screen. "How would you like to go to a place that lets you design your own succulent and offers an entire room filled with decorations to personalize it?

"I'll be ready in fifteen minutes!" Danny shouts the sound of crashes accompanying his voice as he likely leaps from the couch. "How expensive is it?"

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'll pay for everything." Tim tells Danny just as Tam and three interns wander into his office. He holds up a finger at them, listening to Danny loudly proclaim he wants to be the one to treat Tim.

It's sweet, but Tim had so much money he didn't know what to do. Danny was saving up to buy his own car- and the last time Tim offered to buy him one, his roommate had refused to make him the Red Robin Rush for a week.

"Don't worry about money, Danny. Just get dressed, and tonight, you can make it up to me the usual way." He says, feeling a slow, smug smile spread across his face as Danny rushes to the coffee station to check through the tea they had.

"I'll do something even better. It's a new trick I picked up, but it's guaranteed to keep you up all night." Danny tells him as he fumbles with his clothes- likely changing- which is loud enough to echo from his phone speakers. An intern shifts, uncomfortable on his feet.

Tam raises an impressed eyebrow, which, for some reason, makes Tim slightly embarrassed. His face turns a bit red as he hastily tells his roommate. "I should be picking you up in an hour."

"Wait, what do I wear for this? I will not repeat O'malley's."

Tim's face turns redder at the reminder of last week's blunder. It wasn't his fault that what he considered casual clothes were what Danny thought were formal. He told the man to meet him at the restaurant after work, not considering it upscale since it was only served dinner, and once again, Danny's outfit had him stopped at the door by a worker who didn't think he was dressed the part.

"Just wear that outfit I like. The blue one." He tells him about the black sweatshirt with blue stripes and a fluffy black and blue sweater. It was the warmest, most stylish thing Danny women meant for streetwear, and he knew it would be a bit chilly in the evening.

"Alright. See you soon. Text me when you are outside. Byeeeee"

"Bye," Tim hangs up and offers the three interns and impressed secretary a sheepish look. "Sorry about that. How can I help you?"

Tam steps forward, waving a hand at the two young men and single women older than him by a few years. They straighten up as his PA speaks. "I just wanted to introduce the interns that start tomorrow; it won't take more than five minutes if you have to be somewhere soon."

"It's lovely to meet you all. " Tim smiles, ignoring the wide-eyed stare the one on the left is giving him. The introductions don't take long at all, but Tim still feels restless when he grabs his coat and rushes past Tam's empty desk. He leaves a note on her desk telling her he took the afternoon off and practically skips down to the parking garage.

He is unaware of the rumors circulating among his employees after a particular intern on the left let it slip he overheard Mr. Drake talking to his lover like their relationship was....like that. He is even more unaware that the second he picks up Danny from the front of their building, five shadows break into his penthouse and search the place for any drugs.

He is too busy picking out crystals with his roommate, who babbles about their effects on ghosts, memorized by his silly random knowledge again.

Meanwhile, Bruce is horrified to find some green liquid in the second bedroom. He's not sure why Tim or Danny have to separate rooms if they truly are lovers, but the fact this was hidden in the room by the other boy gives Jason's idea of Tim living with his dealer aan uncomfortable amount of credit.

He returned a sample to the Cave when his other children reported nothing. They refrained from planting any bugs just because Tim would find them, and it would stop him from trusting them should they have to give him a proper introduction.

Upon conducting some tests, despite the similar appearance to the Lazarus pits, results showed it's closer to the formula of Mr. Freeze's ice ray but in liquid form.

Why would Fenton hide this? What was he up to? Did Tim know that Fenton had cut an entire part of the wall to hide jars and jars of this goo?

[lyss-sketchbox]

With Natlan's AQ coming to a close and I had time to really think about it and see other's perspective of it. I have some thoughts. And its gonna discuss the entire AQ as a whole and not just Act 5.

In short

More consistent action and flare than Fontaine

Way too much 'waiting for the right moment' and no other preparations are shown because of it.

The blind trust to said moment. Noone vetoed this, noone was worried about this, noone doubted this. So everything felt weightless.

Mavuika is a mary sue. Her hardheaded and blind trust to an event that may or may not happen just so happens to go right. She's so confident it'll work out she spent the days leading up to the final battle painting. So everything she does has no weight to it when it's blatantly obvious they're gonna win and ruined anything hoyo tried to do to create any tension.

Capitano is the goat and it's a shame he had a fraction of the screen time but alot more impact.

I have to say the level of action and flare they used in the entire AQ is alot more consistent than Fontaine.

We all should admit that we came into an AQ expecting interaction and action from playable characters and not NPCs unless they built them up enough to care for. Fontaine's evidence searching and crime solving part is understandably slow for some people and it can really hinder the pace, especially Meropide's part where it fully focuses on NPC's instead of actually figuring out Wrio's and Lyney's plans (which is sidelined until the very end)

The action scenes and AQ specific domains are great. I like that they aren't making us watch still images or summaries of events and actually let's us play through certain scenes, especially the Act 4 war and Act 5 making our way to the eye of the Abyss part. I love that it gives us choices and consequences based on our choices and ACTUALLY shows that consequence instead of telling us. Makes it feel like they're putting effort into the story telling.

The actual weight of the plot...? Not so much. I think it is very cliche with not alot of active impact from playable characters. The ending falls flat compared to what was set up.

In Act 1-2, it felt cliché for Paimon to point out 'oh look it's time for us to solve this nation's crisis', pointing it out doesn't make it any better but this is just a pet peeve and pretty neglegible.

I was sceptical about Natlan from the start, I admit that, but I like how the characters had an active choice and struggle during these acts. Kachina chose to stay in the tourney and train, Mualani chose to switch teams, they didn't wait for a thing to happen to do thing, they initiated it first.

Mavuika and Capitano fight still doesn't make sense to me. It's alot of needless flare with no substance to me. It feels like Capitano just waltzed in there with no other plan than to fight Mavuika for the gnosis. Like he didn't even plan his escape, he just so happened to be saved by Ororon.

Act 3-4 while had character interaction, feels tonally wrong. Like are Mavuika and co. NOT doing anything else but to wait for the 6 heroes to show up? Mavuika FOUGHT against Capitano's methods because she believes her way is better but it feels so... shallow? She just trusts that the 6 heroes will show up on time without any doubts or Plan B's at all...? Also in the beginning Mavuika told us to be careful when sharing the news that a war might break out but the first thing we do is... tell people...? Out right...? Sure.

The war was done well, I like that we have choices and consequences. The end sequence literally is a My Little Pony clone but it does fit with the consistent theme of solidarity in war and nationalism. Still felt cheesy to me.

Act 5. ACT 5 is the worst tonal shift of all time to me. So we spent the first half celebrating when we know something else is there, no preparation or doubts. Even Mavuika is like 'ah yes let me paint to pass the time :)', it feels... arrogant, it feels as if it's absolutely undisputed that we are gonna win. So there's no tension at all even when they finally try to make the final battle feels important. Even the stadium bit feels off, there's literally NO signs that we are losing but for some reason the Sacred Flame goes out...?

While I like that they brought out memorable NPCs from world quests, the part about the 6 heroes feels so extremely tacked on. Like wow the 6 first heroes gave us blessings randomly in the middle of the sequence even though the actual power up sequence to get pyro traveller is still... way after that so it felt... useless? The entire boss battle even feels so weightless because yeah, you're gonna win, what is there to root for lmao.

Don't get me started on the celebration afterwards, the long awkward section where you allegedly spend a while giving out autographs and taking pictures. It feels like Hoyo is popping a party popper in our face and going CONGRATS YOU DID IT! CELEBRATE NOW! THIS IS A CELEBRATION. If they were trying to divert our attention from Mavuika's death then it's a shit attempt. Because the final battle didn't feel like it had weight, so it feels not worth celebrating.

Capitano is the only saving grace of this AQ and even then he's been sidelined for the entire act so while the logic for his sacrifice to Ronova was great (hell even more hyped about this than the entire final battle), it didn't have the impact it probably should've had. It felt like he had an entire side quest that we didn't get to see or hint at unless you count the very first dream opening Act 5.

Now my biggest issue with this nation is WHY IS THERE SO MUCH WAITING FOR THE RIGHT MOMENT????

Kachina deserved to be one of the 6 heroes instead of Xilonen. We literally don't know what Xilonen and Iansan even do to earn that title but they just... are??? We atleast see Kachina fighting for a spot in the Night Wars and we hear about Mualani and Kinich's wins but Xilonen and Iansan???

Mavuika vetoed Capitano's plans that actually had substance and logic behind it because she just.... trusts that it'll happen. Does she not worry they won't show up?? Does she not have Plan B's?? She had absolutely 0 worries at all so she just... feels so flat. Then in the final battle she just... doesn't worry at all, like I understand as an archon and a leader it's best that you act like it, but there's like... absolutely zero signs that she's worried. Even when she's talking to her LONG LOST SISTER SHE'S JUST... FINE??? MOVES ON??? ARE YOU NOT GONNA TELL YOUR WORRIES TO YOUR SISTER??? OR DO YOU JUST NOT HAVE WORRIES AT ALL????

Man idk, the ending flops for me. Rip capitano one of the only good thing about this nation and he isnt even from it. But we SEE HIS STRUGGLE, HIS DOUBTS, HIS FAILURES, AND HIS SACRIFICE AND SUCCESS WHILE WE GET SHIT ALL FROM MAVUIKA SO LIKE????? WHAT WE'RE THEY DOING???????

[silent-silver-slip]

Unsurprisingly, ADV has won, so I will certainly be doing work for that as well. But there's a rundown of the additional work I did for the other poll options (see below the line). Info on A Dragon's View (ADV) can be found at the bottom of the list.

Started with farmer!Shika (i.e. no one knows what lies beneath) and gave myself a target of 6 sentences. Didn't think to count and remembered a few minutes later with a total of 146 words and the start of the next short story.

I hadn't worked on Prime Crime Time series in eons, but I opened up the document, found that there's already the majority of a plot there and got to work. My aim was 9 sentences. 233 words later and a bit of a roll, I think I know how the next story starts (and how Madara and Izuna enter a life of crime... on the other side this time, that is).

The urban fantasy uni collection (which I've mentioned here before) needed 24 sentences. Continuing the theme of starting another short story, this one also needed to start another short story. There's about four stories left until I call the collection complete, but we'll get there when we get there I suppose. Anyway, because I kept looking at the paragraph number rather than sentence number, I went a bit longer than necessary. Thankfully, I noticed before I hit 24 paragraphs, but anyway, there's a handful of extra words written now. But 403 words later (and 36 sentences), I can move on.

The royal/commander story was a lot easier, on account of the fact I've been working on this recently and am partway through a scene. 11 sentences were written, with a little extra since it's a fun angsty scene.

Twice-born souls is now 17 sentences into the First Actual Story, but it's not something I'm likely to continue anytime soon. I did add a few hundred words to the plot when I thought about writing it though, which is something.

All that's left to do is ADV...

Technically, ADV is actually a completely written work - but that just means I'm moving onto officially editing not just that work, but the entire series going along with it.

So as a result, I got to work shifting my reverse outline and notes into a new document, colour coding things that I want to change or adjust, and also doing a few other notes along the way. This brought me to a whopping 1768 words and... 142 sentences (give or take, there was some work in another document I'm also counting). This meant I was 16 sentences short. Do you know how annoying that is? I'm quickly realising that 158 sentences is Many More than I thought it was. Naturally, this led me to a topic that I had been fiercely debating in my head for a while: dragons, gender, and pronouns, and the problem of my conlang. Thankfully, I have a partial solution in place that now just needs to be added in.

In conclusion, ADV (well, the entire series) gained 2,369 words and because I am an overachiever I wrote an additional of 1,431 (or around that) words.

Needless to say @dragons-locator, I hope you're happy with yourself. There have been many words and I'm much closer to the stage of preparing to get beta readers for my dragons series now.

(For those curious to see where ADV and its series started, here's a post on when I started rewriting it. This series is a decade in the making, technically.)

tagged by @librarylexicon -- thank you for the tag!

Rules: Make a 24hr poll listing the titles of every WIP you want to work on. (It’s fine if you only have one, still make a poll for the vote count). Whichever WIP title gets the most votes, write 1 sentence for every vote received.

Because I'm not silly enough to do All my various projects, I'll do the ones I've currently been rotating in my mind.

As always, absolutely no pressure to do the same, but gonna tag @adragonhoardingstories, @limetimo, @juliaandthephantoms and also anyone else who wants to join in!

[alchemicalterror]

Wait shouldn't you be more worried about Ghoul NOT going back to the future? Don't you worry about the sacred timeline and all that? What if he meets his past self someday and the universe implodes?

So. Short version?

No.

Long version below:

So that line of thinking pays homage to the false idea that time is a straight shot of events that can be plotted on a graph or timeline in one unbroken, contiguous stream from beginning to end.

In reality, what we perceive as time only holds any sort of narrative flow or structure because we as people can only hope to glimpse it from a single perspective - our own - and because we are creatures hard wired to seek and internalize patterns to such a degree that we will invent them for our own comfort.

But just because we are able - through this fabricated self-delusion built off perspective re-enforced by a societal drive to tell stories and arrange events in a manner that suggests they are, in fact, sensible - does not mean that this is how time or reality actually work. Casuality is much more complicated than that, and existence as a whole much larger than can be summed up from a single person's understanding of it.

In truth, what we call time is less a single path of events strung one after another, or even something that could be represented by a conspiracy board of events, and is instead more akin to an entire bathtub's worth of glitter upended on enough fly-paper to wallpaper a bedroom with, roughly once per second, with each sparkling fleck being an entire cosmos' worth of concurrent experiences happening everywhere, to everyone and everything, across our universe, constantly.

Trying to worry overmuch about the shifts that one little change is going to make in that sea of chaos, and set the world's supposed narrative on a farcical 'wrong' path incorrectly attributes the possibility of a 'right' one, when in truth reality is just going to keep on reality-ing whether or not Ghoul lives out his life in the early aughts or pops back to when he came from. Weirder shit has, is, and will be happening all the damn time, and it ain't worth worrying about one stray speck of glitter.

S'pecially since I like this one.

But that's just a layman approaching the topic from the broad strokes of psychology and sociological profiling, and taking an educated stab at explaining something damn well outside my wheelhouse, I'd chase up Eddie for a more nuanced approach from a background better suited to this sort of discussion if it interests you.

[ajwrks]

Would you be willing to write a platonic oneshot with Ultra Magnus and a gender neutral human reader? :)

(I loved your Ratchet fic btw, it was perfect)

—Distractions

ultra magnus x gn! human reader

i’m glad you liked it!! <3

this one shot is about reader getting ultra magnus to play board games instead of doing his job 🔥. and the research i tried to do on cybertronian games was actually so bad LMAO. so just imagine the game is jenga/tetris 💔

It’s late into the afternoon. far too late. the bright overhead lights humming quietly, the muted buzz of keys fills the empty void. you stand patiently in front of his desk— his very clean and pristine desk, it makes you wonder if ultra magnus has any life outside of harshly enforcing rules and patrolling the ship like his spark depended on it. 

“can i assist you with anything?” he finally says, optics shifting away from his extensive layers of spreadsheets and… and you’re not too sure anymore. you just know that it is a lot of work for one person to be doing alone. 

“i think you’re the one who needs help. why do you drown yourself in all of this?” you cringed, making it very evident as your shoulders hike up to your ears. without warning, ultra magnus feels a shift in weight on the edge of his desk and next thing he knows, there you go, sitting on the very edge with your legs crossed and dangling directly next to his neatly arranged papers. ultra magnus and his entire frame still as his optics bore into yours, and then back to the stack of papers, and then back to you. “relax. i’m not going to knock them over,” he glances at you once more, irritation arising. 

“did you come here to ridicule me, y/n?” he asks slowly. unfazed by his solemnity, your grin widens. 

“no. the exact opposite actually,” you begin, leaning on your arm to get more comfortable in the space. “what’s the name of that game you taught me?” you inquired, aimlessly wandering to get the cogs turning in your head to remember the name of your precious game. 

“tadek?” magnus replies plainly. your eyes glint at the familiarity of the name. 

“yes! that’s it. let’s play it.” 

“i don’t think i can, y/n.”

“what? why not? you’re always busy magnus, and i’m bored,” you retort, whispering the last part to yourself— but it definitely didn’t go unnoticed by ultra magnus. “a couple of games and then you can go back to being your boring self at this desk.” you were fairly shocked to learn that ultra magnus learned how to play a game throughout the years in his considerable life span. ultra magnus can’t even utter the word fun without internally stalling and ultimately butchering up its pronunciation. upon your request, he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, fingers hovering over the keys of his digital notepad. he couldn’t seem to concentrate at the current task at hand with your persistence, making casual conversation, and your complete unconcern with the deadlines looming over his helm. 

“so are you going to play a few games?” your smile broadens, he always falls for this tactic, it's inevitable. he can never say no to you. ultra magnus drags a servo down his faceplate, carefully considering. 

“perhaps a couple games wouldn’t hurt my schedule,” he says begrudgingly, falsely displaying his exasperation. he was actually rather relieved that you had come along to stick a bookmark in his list of a billion things to do. you hum in satisfaction as you make your way across his office to fish for the games and its contents. (ultra magnus took 80 years just to clear his desk btw) setting the square box down, you unload everything and set up as quickly as possible. 

—

the game of tadek was strenuous, building structures with tiles to perfectly resemble a tower was difficult but was easily fun beyond that aspect. each move by magnus was calculated, each strategy you utilized countered with precision— you were starting to question if he was taking this too seriously (per usual). you drum your fingertips on the edge of the desk, resting the side of your head in the palm of your hand. drawing to a conclusion, your hand reaches to grab a colored tile. 

“are you sure?” ultra magnus blurts out. eyeing him you pause. 

“what? now you’re making me nervous.” you say as a subtle grin tugs at the corner of his derma. “don’t make me come over there and pull you out that armor.” 

he stopped smiling. 

“are YOU sure?” you jeered, lowering your voice to sound like the enforcer of the tyrest accord sitting right in front of you. ultra magnus blatantly ignoring your mockery as he placed his next tile. soon enough, it was your turn, gazing upon the selection your brows burrow in thought. you settle on the neon pink one, gently setting it on top of your growing tower. blue holographic light ignites, engulfing your structure. your eyes widened at your victory, laughing triumphantly. 

“finally! i beat you!” 

“i let you win,” ultra magnus adds. you gape at him.

“no you didn’t…” the smallest chuckle escapes his throat as he stands from his chair, collecting the pieces to place back into its respected spot. “did you really?” you squint at him. he expressed no indication of whether he did or not— “i appreciate the time you chose to spend with me. it was entertaining,” he spoke formally, placing the cover back over the box. 

“see? it was fun,” you emphasize the word fun on your tongue. “ i’ll be back again soon!”

“i’m afraid i have important work to finish y/n… please do not come back…”

[thebarneschronicles]

The Barnes Chronicles Masterlist

Welcome to The Barnes Chronicles Masterlist!

Hi there! I’m so glad you’ve found your way to my little corner of the internet. Here, you’ll find all of my writing for Bucky Barnes stories, conveniently organized in one place. Whether you're in the mood for fluff, angst, or something a little spicier, I hope you’ll find something that speaks to you.

I also accept requests! If you’ve got an idea for a fic, feel free to send it my way— I'm always looking for new ideas to bring to life. Thank you for all the love and support; your reblogs, comments, and likes mean the world to me!

Now, go ahead and explore The Barnes Chronicles. 💙

ONE SHOTS The Edge of Patience

Word Count: 1.8k

You’re no stranger to the overprotective nature of your boyfriend, Bucky Barnes. After a heated argument about wanting to join him and Sam on their missions, you knowingly push his buttons until his patience snaps. What starts as a battle of wills turns into a raw, unrestrained encounter—punishing, heated, and entirely irresistible.

A Quiet Escape

Word Count: 6.3k

During a holiday stay at Clint Barton’s home, you’ve been desperately trying to steal a moment alone with Bucky—your super-soldier boyfriend—but the Avengers are constantly interrupting. Between Clint’s kids, Steve’s “bromantic” grocery runs, and Nat pulling Bucky into sparring sessions, it feels like you’re constantly fighting for his attention. Frustration finally boils over when you confront Bucky about your lack of privacy, only to discover he’s just as eager for some alone time as you are - and willing to do anything to get it.

SERIES

Closer To Home Series A shared universe of Bucky Barnes x Female Reader stories exploring love, trust, and the journey of healing.

Closer To Home Word Count: 5.5k As you settle into your new role as the team’s “girl in the chair,” helping Sam and Bucky with their missions, you find yourself increasingly drawn to Bucky's intense presence. His brooding silence is matched only by his watchful eyes, and despite his gruff exterior, your kindness begins to chip away at his walls. When Bucky insists on walking you home one night, clyou chalk it up to his old-fashioned sense of duty and think nothing of it. But as the night unfolds, you realize there’s far more behind his actions than just good manners, and your growing feelings for him may not be as hidden as you think.

Just Say the Word (Coming Soon) The next chapter in the Closer To Home universe. As your growing relationship with Bucky begins to shift from stolen glances to shared moments, you find yourself caught in the pull of his quiet intensity. What starts as a tentative understanding blossoms into something deeper, but old-fashioned chivalry and modern uncertainties collide as Bucky navigates a world far removed from his 1940s ideals. When he whisks you away from your office—much to the amusement of your coworkers—for a spur of the moment dinner at your place, the lines between casual affection and something more begin to blur. Amid simmering desires and whispered confessions, you both must confront the fears and yearnings that threaten to undo you. Can two people from vastly different worlds find a way to make it work, or will unspoken doubts keep you apart?