#when my job is literally a full body workout almost every day

[autisticlee]

I keep forgetting to bring my hip brace to work and my hip just tried to dislocate itself and got stuck and I fell on the ground and everything hurts fdhdjdjd why is this my life.

[tobi-momo]

"The Setter's Help" Chapter 2

Pairing: Kageyama Tobio x Volleyball player!reader

Synopsis: With a big game coming up, the confidence in your setting has gone down significantly. Knowing the setter on the Karasuno boy’s volleyball club is good at what he does, you ask him for help. Will he help you build your confidence and skills or will he just tear it down more?

Genre: Romance, fluff, some crack, angst, hurt/comfort

Chapter Warnings: Depictions of throwing up (nothing graphic at all whatsoever), cursing, a little angst, not really that proofread\

Word Count: 2.04k

Taglist: open! send an ask :)

a/n: kasdkjaskjdh updates are going to be pretty random but again this is a short story, not gonna be longer than 8 parts i think (if it even has 8 parts) sry if you see mistakes just ignore them plss

“Up. Up. Up!”

“Kageyama-kun stop yelling! I’m doing it!”

“No you’re not! Up!”

You push yourself up from the ground repeatedly, sweat beading off your face onto the gym floor, your arms trembling and slipping on the wet surface. Your heaving annoyed him. How could you not take this much of a workout? He’s been doing it everyday for years, you must be too weak to handle it.

“Kageyama-kun we’ve been doing this for three hours! I’m exhausted! You were supposed to help me with my setting, not make me pass out on the floor!” His head veers to your pale face, pupils scanning every detail on your face, finding distress and exhaustion in every glance. He rolls his eyes, turning his head back away from you, sighing.

“Fine, whatever,” he mumbles, letting you get up off the floor. Your sore body makes it to the bench, where you grab your water and open the lid, starting to chug the water faster than your body could handle.

“If you keep doing that you’re going to throw up you know,” he says, only what you could see as an amused face watching you gulp down the water. Once your water bottle was empty, you could only describe the feeling in your stomach as…not normal. Nausea and twingeness flood your senses. “Wait, you’re not actually gonna do it are you?” He looks at you incredulously, eyes wide as he backs up, a hand raised hesitantly, pointing in your direction. You continuously shake your head, denying him before deciding to move your feet towards the bathroom, speeding up before crouching down at the toilet.

Kageyama just stood there, watching you disappear again. He was starting to wonder why he even took this job in the first place. Was this going to be an everyday thing: you not wanting to follow his directions and then end up suffering consequences like these? Hmm, maybe he should reconsider.

You on the other hand, couldn’t believe what just happened. You just- did you- holy shit- yeah, you did. You could almost laugh at how embarrassing that was. You didn’t want to completely admit to yourself that it did occur, but you couldn’t hide from it. You were still sitting on the bathroom floor when you decided to pull it together and walk back to the gym.

The gym where Kageyama was nowhere to be seen.

Did he leave? Why? Was he waiting for you? Since when was practice over? When did he leave? Were you taking too long?

“Kageyama? Kageyama-kun! Hello?” You scurry across the gym, grabbing your things before rushing outside. There he was, by the vending machine. “Kageyama! Why’d you leave?” You question him as he nonchalantly presses the buttons on the big machine, ignoring you. It irritated you. You huff at his silence, getting impatient with him. You cross your arms to your chest, leaning your back against the wall while you wait for him. “So I’m just gonna assume that this is the end of practice for today?”

“For tomorrow, too,” your eyes widen dramatically, “and the next day, and the next day, and the nex-”

“Okay, Kageyama! I get it! But why? What did I do wrong?” Your frown is evident, the frustration and self-disappointment bleeding through your expression, even if you had turned your head to the side to try and hide it.

“I can’t really teach you anything. You don’t really learn anything well. You don’t follow directions, you don’t like my workouts, you don’t like…”

His words fade out; your thoughts murky yet so clear. He didn’t want to help you anymore. You weren’t even good enough to learn. You. Weren’t. Good. Enough.

“You can’t even-”

“Okay!” You shout, shutting him up, “It’s fine, Kageyama-kun. I don’t care. It doesn’t matter anymore, anyways,” you face the floor, a firm tone masking your madness while your fists ball up.

‘That’s weird,’ he thought, looking down at your figure. He couldn’t see your face, but your voice made it seem like you were mad or something. Why would you be mad? He’s just telling the truth, you don’t need to be upset.

“Thank you again for the help, Kageyama-kun. I’m not gonna ask you to help me anymore so just-” you pause, turning your back towards him, “good-bye.” You walk away. You had disappeared from his sight once again, leaving him at the vending machine. He shrugs, bending down to pick up his milk carton, then strolling away. He tried to think of something he said wrong, trying to figure out what buttons he pushed, but no matter how hard he racked his brain, nothing came out of it.

~.~.~.~

“Yo, Kageyama! You’re late,” Tanaka shouts at the tall boy, smirking because he knew he wouldn’t be late on purpose. Something kept him back. “Where were you? Were you with someone?” He puts his hands on his hips, bending down and raising his head right below Kageyama’s. “Was it a girl?”

“Girl? Where?” Noya speaks up, rushing to Tanaka and Kageyama, frantically turning around in circles trying to find a single girl.

“I think our Kageyama here has a friend,” he whispers to Noya, who leans his head toward Tanaka’s, nodding in understanding, “a lady friend.” Noya’s eyes widen and he backs up, sizing Kageyama up and down. Tanaka’s eyebrows lift, a satisfied expression on his face while Noya walks all the way around Kageyama, wondering how he got a girlfriend.

“What? No I didn’t. Stop that-” He tries to save himself from the teasing and the looks, but his face couldn’t contain the obvious tint or red on his face. Imagining himself with a girl was weird, he never thought about that. Imagining himself with you? Well, that was impossible. He didn’t like the thought of that. You were annoying, obnoxious, you never shut up, you’re loud, you don’t follow instructions, how would he ever tolerate a girl like you? “Stop- I don’t have a girlfriend!”

“Ohhhh, so you do like a special someone, then?”

“No! I don’t!”

“Do you think he’s telling the truth, Tanaka-san?”

“Mm, it’s hard to tell, Noya, It’s obvious he’s hiding something though,” Tanaka responds, a hand on his chin while he thinks of possible women that could win Kageyama’s heart.

“You are so right, Tanaka, we should definitely tell everyone that our lower-classman friend here has a girlfriend.” Tanaka dramatically gasps, clasping his hands together.

“We definitely should.” Before Kageyama could even raise his hand to stop them, they sprint off, jumping around the rest of the team as he watches his friends turn their heads to him incredulously. They all froze in place, staring. Kageyama just stood there, his eyes flickering to each person with the same expression. Noya and Tanaka snicker in the back while he tries to find an excuse.

“I’m- I’m not dating anyone! I don't even like her!”

Their eyes widen further, including Noya and Tanaka. They weren’t actually expecting there to be a girl.

“I just helped her with her sets today, that’s it!”

Their heads tilt in unison, confused. The silence is deafening, almost as if he could hear the air move.

“Stop standing like that!” He yells, trying to veer from the subject. He turns to his side, walking over the ball cart before chucking the balls at the crowd, all of them hitting Hinata.

“Ow- ow- OW! KAGEYAMA STOP IT!” He screams once he hits the floor, his teammates finally moving to another subject.

This was gonna be a long practice.

~.~.~.~

You wearily make your way to practice, dragging your feet and watching the ground as you open the doors to the gym the next day. You were mad at yourself, disappointed. You had one job to do. Listen to him. You literally made him quit within twenty-four hours of having him help you. What was wrong with you? Maybe you should just forget about it, forget about him. You wanted to, but the way your stomach clenched in embarrassment as you thought of it made you not want to even show up. But your team needed you. You hoped.

No. No. No no no no no. You weren’t doing it right. Your sets weren’t as accurate as they were before, and you were barely even watching the ball. Your feet tumble on the floor, your coordination messed up as you run across the court to set this ball. Finally getting under it, you back set it to right-front, watching as the ball didn’t make it to the player. She adjusted, and the ball went over, but your set kept her from hitting it with all her power. You couldn’t get yourself together, damnit. Why couldn’t you just do it right for once?

You sigh in frustration, getting back in position while listening to your coach tell you off.

You could do it. You can do it. You got this. You can set the ball correctly and hopefully not shank it. Putting your hands below the ball, you push it up to the middle-front, watching her take her approach and smack it down on the empty side of the court. You sigh of relief, this time, not mad at your set. You shake your hands in front of you, hearing your coaches praise of “there we go! That’s what I’m talking about!” although you were pretty sure that was directed at the girl who actually hit the ball. She was the one who got it over anyways, not you.

He watched from afar, his eyes staying on your figure the entire time you guys were practicing, noticing how your face cringed at every move you made, wincing at every wrong push. You were better than this, he thought, knowing that you weren’t showing your full potential. What was wrong? Was it because of yesterday? He caught the way you shook your hands when you got nervous. It annoyed him. He wanted to just grab them to stop moving. Would that work? Would you stop being nervous if he just helped you? Was that all it took?

The whistle blows, ending your practice. You were let down, to say the least. Your skills must’ve gotten worse. God, you were helpless. Made you want to just hide away forever. Drearily walking out the doors, you halt in front of the specific boy you didn’t want to see, holding a milk carton with a sports bag on his shoulder.

“I saw you play,” he mumbles. You pinch the bridge of your nose, wanting to just crawl up in a ball right then and there. “That back set you did wasn’t powerful enough.”

“I know, Kageyama. I’m trying, though, so please get out of my way.”

“Wait, let me show you something.” He sets his bag down, heading into the gym where you had just left. You groan, following him in. “Come here.” You roll your eyes, but set your bag down and meet him on the court. He puts you in your setting position, telling you to watch him. He bends his knees, holds his arms up and sets an imaginary ball backwards. It was different from what you’ve been doing, your arms didn’t extend far enough. His back didn’t bend that far either. Huh. Curiously, you do the same, trying to imitate his exact movements. He walks to your side, grabbing your hands and moving them to where they need to be. He then places his hand on your back, telling you not to bend so much. You nod and oblige, following his hands and his movements. “Good. That’s good.”

“Wait, really?” You ask surprisingly, shocked that you pulled through. “I did it right?”

“Well, almost,” he backs up; you stand straight up as you watch him form his words, “there were some little things that need to be worked on but you still improved from earlier. And you actually listened this time.” You stifle a chuckle, turning to leave the court. “Where are you going?”

“My practice is over, and you helped me with that, so I was gonna go home,” you respond, looking at him confused.

“We aren’t done yet.”

a/n: kasdasd sorry its long LMAOKDDFG but HERE

taglist: @luvrboykento @elektrosonix @haikyuutothetop @combat-wombatus

send an ask to be a part of the taglist !

Masterlist

[kozumekenza]

on my mind :: two

:: suna rintarou x f!reader :: playlist :: masterlist ::

:: taglist: open :: wc: 1.5k ::

After a drunken one-night stand with your ex, you thought you could get him out of your life for good. Unfortunately, the two of you can’t seem to keep away from each other. Why can’t you leave each other alone? And more importantly, why is he still on your mind?

tw: mentions of alcohol, hangovers, profanity, talk of sex, one-night stands

After a lot of deliberation and even more wine with Yachi, you both came to the conclusion that ignoring Suna and the one-night stand would be the best course of action. You were also hesitant to give back the National Team jersey you had taken, fearing that it would draw attention to what had conspired between you two.

Instead, you adopted the expensive jersey into your wardrobe. 

So now you sat, head thrown back over the edge of your couch, fifth glass of wine in one hand and a slice of pizza in the other, bright red jersey with a large 12 and Suna’s name emblazoned on the back haphazardly thrown over your body. It was a comfortable jersey, plus, it was laundry day. You would wash it before (if) you ever gave it back. 

Yachi stole the wine glass out of your hand before you could drain the rest of it. 

“What the fuuuuck, ‘Toka? I was almost finished!” 

Yachi just looked at you with a blank expression. “Y/n, you need to go to bed before you show up to your first day of work hungover. You’ll thank me in the morning. C’mon,” she grabbed your hands to pull you up, dragging you along all the way to your bedroom. 

You cuddled into the sheets, trying to ignore the smell of Suna’s cologne on the jersey and failing miserably. Yachi brought you a glass of water and painkillers, then turned off the lights and bid you goodnight. 

At least you knew why Suna was in Tokyo now. It made sense that he would make the National Team, and it was a major oversight on your part for accepting a job as a trainer for said team. However, there was nothing you could do now. You would just have to wait and see how it all played out. 

You tossed and turned before finally surrendering to the comfort of the jersey’s scent. It was easier to fall asleep when you could pretend someone was next to you, anyway. When you ultimately dozed off, it was to memories of your ex-boyfriend’s calming hugs and bright smile.

---

When you arrived at the National Team Training Center the next morning, you were anxiously waiting for Suna to corner you about Saturday night’s events. Instead, you were able to walk all the way down to your new office across from the locker rooms without seeing anyone else. You set down your purse and backpack in your new office, smiling at the Assistant Athletic Trainer plaque outside your door. Popping back out into the hallway, you dropped a coffee off with your boss, Iwaizumi Hajime, whose office was adjacent to your own. 

Practice didn’t start for another hour, giving you plenty of time to calm your nerves about seeing Suna. You booted up your laptop and began preparing the players’ training regimens. After about thirty minutes, Atsumu strolled into your office. 

“Hey, y/n!”

“‘Tsumu!” He wrapped you in a big hug, lifting you off the ground and causing you to giggle.

“How’ve you been?” He set you back down and sat on the edge of your desk.

“Good! Lots of prepping for this new job, making sure all of your workouts are in order.” You gave Atsumu a light punch in the arm. You had missed joking around with him. Before you moved away from Hyogo, he was one of your best friends.

“Well, I hope it goes well. Hey, speaking of which, my shoulder has been kinda sore lately, think you could massage it for me?”

You just rolled your eyes and nodded. Of course, Atsumu would use your new position to his advantage. You could already tell that these next few weeks would be full of Atsumu begging for back massages when he didn’t really need them. On the bright side, at least if he was trying to scavenge a massage from you, Suna probably didn’t mention anything to him.

“Let’s go out to the court, practice is about to start. I’ll do it out there so that we aren’t late.”

Atsumu nodded, so you grabbed your backpack with your medical supplies and followed his lead to the court. You dropped your stuff at the bench and motioned for him to sit down. As you worked on his shoulder (his muscles were kind of tight after all), he talked about the temporary move to Tokyo and preparations for the upcoming Olympics. It was only April, but the competition would be here before anyone knew it. At least the team had the benefit of being at home for the duration of the Olympics. You couldn’t imagine having to adjust to a new timezone before competing at an international level. 

As you two talked, more players began to filter in. Iwaizumi came out to check on you, scolding Atsumu for taking advantage of your trainer status, to which you just laughed. 

“It’s fine, I promise. If I really minded, I would’ve told him to leave.”

“Alright, if you say so,” Iwaizumi looked at his watch, “Shit, I gotta go. It’ll probably be just you out here for most of the morning, y/n. I have a ton of meetings and work to catch up on, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay! I can handle it, don’t worry.” You smiled, trying to conceal the large amount of fear you still held for interacting with a certain middle blocker. Iwaizumi gave you a grin before turning and walking back towards his office. 

Atsumu smirked at you, “He totally thinks you’re hot.”

You punched Atsumu in the shoulder, hard. “Shut the fuck up! And he does not, he’s gay, and he’s fucking married!” 

“Hm, what a bummer. You’re too tense, you need to get laid.”

Your eyes widened as you slapped a hand over his mouth. “Atsumu!”

“Hey Atsumu, y/n, long time no see.”

Your heart dropped as you turned towards the unmistakable voice, one hand still on Atsumu’s mouth. 

“Sunarin! What’s up?” Atsumu shrugged your hand off as he stood and gave Suna a half-hug. You stood to the side, slowly inching towards your backpack as a means of escape. If Suna turned his attention to you, you could just busy yourself with whatever you had in there. 

“Fuck, y/n, it’s been forever since I last saw you.” You looked up at Suna, schooling your expression into something resembling calm, cool, and collected and ignoring the pounding of your heart. 

You gave a half-hearted laugh, “Yeah.” Suna flashed you one of his signature grins, and you nearly choked on air. Why was he so attractive?

“You’re still as beautiful as ever.” Fuck. “So this is what you’re up to nowadays?”

“Yep!” You allowed a little grin to slip through. “Living the dream as an assistant athletic trainer!”

“That’s awesome. I always knew you would do something great.” Oh my God. “Well, it looks like practice is about to start. We should go out sometime, catch up! It’s been years since we’ve talked.”

You nodded and watched as he jogged over to where some other players were stretching, then turned and buried your face in your hands. What the fuck. He didn’t remember Saturday. That was good. Now you just had to play it cool around him, and everything would be fine.

You felt an arm settle itself on your shoulder. “He totally thinks you’re hot.”

“Atsumu, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

The man in question quickly removed his arm from your shoulder, giving you a questioning look. “The fuck is your problem with him? I know you two still have whatever from high school that’s unresolved, but you look like you want to die on the spot right now.”

“If I tell you, you have to swear you won’t tell anyone. Not a soul.” You could already tell you were going to regret this.

Atsumu brought his hand up with a cheesy grin on his face. “I solemnly swear. Now tell me.”

You sighed and internally cringed. You couldn’t believe you were about to tell Atsumu this. “On Saturday night, I got drunk and woke up in Suna’s bed,” you watched as Atsumu’s jaw dropped, “And he doesn’t remember anything, thank God.”

“Holy fucking shit, y/n!”

“Keep your fucking voice down!”

“Wait, wait, wait, it gets better,” you winced as you prepared yourself for whatever bad news Atsumu was about to bring, “He called me Sunday morning, talking about a ripped skirt and a bra some chick left, and that she stole his National Team jersey. You’re telling me that was you?”

Grimacing, you nodded.

“Damn, y/n. You’re screwed.”

You nodded again.

---

After a morning of tough practice, you were finally enjoying some peace and quiet at your desk. You ate the bento Yachi packed for you (she was a literal angel) and tried to avoid thinking about how hot Suna looked while practicing today. You couldn’t stop staring at him; every time you looked away, you somehow found yourself looking in his direction again.

Your buzzing phone pulled you out of your thoughts.

Osamu’s laughing voice filled the tiny speaker. 

“Y/n! You slept with Sunarin! And he doesn’t even remember!”

You were going to murder Miya Atsumu. 

taglist: @sunasexual​ @call-me-lulu​ 

[dilly-oh]

Laundry Day

    It had been building for weeks now. Piling up, bit by bit. Iruka ignored it for as long as he could, shoving it to the back of his mind and going about his daily business, teaching at the Academy and pulling shifts at the Mission Desk like nothing was wrong. But eventually, even he could deny it no longer. When he checked his closet and found that all he had to wear was a single ketchup-or-maybe-blood-stained crop-top, tight yoga shorts, and flip-flops, he knew it was finally time to stop putting it off. There was no other choice left. 

    He had to do laundry.

    “Oh my God, who did you kill?” Anko asked as he dragged the bulging laundry bag down the hallway of his apartment complex.

    “You, if you don't back off,” Iruka snapped at her. “There's just enough room in here for a body.”

    “I sincerely doubt that,” Anko said, cocking an eyebrow at the huge bag. “Seriously, what gives? That thing must be, like, a hundred pounds. Is this some kind of new training craze?”

    “It's laundry day,” Iruka stated. Anko blinked. “I haven't done laundry in two months,” he went on impatiently. “It's kind of hard to find the time between my job teaching, my job at the Mission Desk, and my other job keeping Naruto and Sasuke from killing or kissing each other in public, and since they all count as full-time jobs with none of the benefits, I literally have nothing else to wear.” 

    “Ah. That would explain the booty shorts.”

    “They're called yoga shorts, and they're comfortable.”

    “I don't care what they're called, your ass looks amazing in them.”

    “Stop ogling me!” Iruka barked, his cheeks flaming. Anko's eyes didn't move. “Am I gonna have to go have another talk with HR?” Anko paled.

    “Oh, God, please don't. Last time I had to watch a three-hour film on sexual harassment in the workplace. I had to take notes. There was a quiz after.” 

    “Then stop. STARING.” Iruka gave Anko one last glare, then continued on his way, dragging his laundry bag after him with all the dignity he could muster. Which wasn't alot, considering the bag was heavy as fuck and he'd kinda been neglecting his standard workout routine. Because, you know, three jobs or whatever. 

    There were quite a few laundromats scattered about Konoha, all stocked with specialized, heavy-duty cleaning supplies for shinobi needs (to aid in the removal of blood, guts, and other icky bits picked up from slaughtering enemies and whatnot). The one Iruka usually frequented was located about ten blocks away, which normally wasn't too bad, especially if Iruka went by rooftop. However, that was quite impossible at the moment, considering his giant bag of dirty clothes was hefty and ungainly enough that it would probably squirt right out of his arms and kill an unfortunate pedestrian below. Also, it was the middle of summer and the sun had decided to be an asshole that day, blazing down like some kind of fire Jutsu and scalding every living thing in sight. To make matters worse, the laundry bag seemed to grow heavier with every step until it was like dragging Hokage mountain down the street. So by the time Iruka finally managed to heave the bag halfway across Konoha and up a flight of stairs into the laundromat itself, he was a hot, sweaty mess, his ponytail half-undone and hanging in his face, damp clothing sticking to his skin. 

    Which was exactly why Hatake motherfucking Kakashi was in there, of fucking course. There was no way Iruka's silly little crush wouldn't be in the one place he'd hoped he wouldn't be. 

    Iruka wanted to crawl into the nearest drier and turn it on.

    Maybe he won't see me, he thought as he quietly slipped inside.

    “Hey, Iruka!” Kotetsu shouted from across the entire laundromat. “Nice shorts!” 

    Everyone immediately turned to look.

    Well I know who I'm going to kill now, Iruka thought to himself miserably as he was ogled by every shinobi in the room. He made a mental checklist and vowed to prank each one in retaliation. His body was a temple.

    “You know you could have just stuffed that in a scroll,” Genma said after peeling his gaze off Iruka's thighs, twitching his senbon at the bulging bag. 

    “I'll stuff you in a fucking scroll,” Iruka hissed at him, wiping a sweaty strand of hair out of his face.

    “Ooh, baby, talk dirty to me,” Genma cooed.

    “You're disgusting,” Iruka said flatly. He glanced around, looking for a table with any inch of free space, perfectly willing to fight someone for it. There, in the back, he spotted one last table...right next to Kakashi. Because, you know, this day couldn't get any worse. Iruka debated waiting an extra ten minutes or so to see if the laundromat emptied out a bit, saw Genma wiggle his eyebrows suggestively at him, and decided anything was better than this. Steeling himself with a deep breath, he dragged his bag over to the open table beside Kakashi and started dumping clothes out.

    Kakashi, thankfully, didn't respond to his sudden arrival except for a polite grunt and nod in greeting. Iruka nodded back, then focused for the next several minutes on organizing his dirty clothes, intent on ending this humiliation as quickly as possible. As he worked, he couldn't help but sneak glances at Kakashi while he sorted his lights and darks. The man was busy folding his own laundry, bent over the table, his movements precise and methodical, done with the utmost care. Iruka almost suspected he was using the Sharingan to achieve such perfect folds. He glanced down at the clothes themselves, expecting combat fatigues or maybe a pair of well-worn sweats. 

    Instead, he was surprised to discover Kakashi was folding almost two dozen miniature flak jackets with some kind of funny emblem on the back. 

    “Did...did you accidentally shrink that in the drier or something?” Iruka blurted out before he could stop himself. Kakashi looked over at him, blinking lazily, then chuckled, a husky sound that made Iruka's knees weak. 

    “Of course not,” he said, his voice warm with amusement. “This is my ninken's laundry.” 

    Iruka had to hold in a snort. The famed Copy-Nin of Konoha, scourge of all enemies, feared by missing-nin, doing his ninken's laundry? It was ridiculous! It was absurd! It was...

    Adorable, quite frankly. Iruka's heart melted a little at the sight of him carefully piling up their little vests, careful not to crease them.

    “It's a pain,” Kakashi went on. “They're so picky. I have to use unscented detergent and dryer sheets or they complain.”

    “Too bad they don't sell a fresh cat-shit scent,” Iruka chuckled awkwardly before biting his lip. 

    Kakashi, however, took no offense, throwing his head back and laughing aloud.

    “Ha! They'd like that! Maybe they have a three-day-old steak one, too.” He grinned at Iruka through his mask, one visible eye twinkling. Iruka flushed, and he quickly turned back to his laundry, realized he was holding a pair of underwear, and flung it away, his face flushing darker as he busied himself with sorting again. “You've got quite a load,” Kakashi went on after a moment, nodding at the mountainous pile in front of him.

    “Yeah, I've been putting it off for a while,” Iruka grumbled distractedly, searching for a stray sock's missing partner with no luck. “This is literally the last thing I have to wear, so I either do laundry today or go into work tomorrow naked.”

    “I knew I should have finished that mission report,” Kakashi said under his breath.

    “Very funny,” Iruka scoffed in annoyance, shoving his first few loads into the nearby washing machines.

    “Oh, I'm dead serious.”

    The annoyance turned to anger, and Iruka looked over at the other man to give him a piece of his mind, only to find him staring right back, his warm grin having grown into something much more inviting, bordering on flirtatious. Iruka's sharp comment died in his throat and he cleared it roughly, feeling hot all over. Awkwardly, he reached for change in his pockets, then froze. He looked down and swore. He didn't even fucking have pockets. Stupid booty- YOGA shorts. He'd forgotten the quarters, and he didn't dare leave his clothes unattended for fear someone like Genma would be a creep and steal a pair of underwear or something. Also, Izumo and Kotetsu had a habit of borrowing things and never returning them, and he could see them eyeing several of his favorite shirts from across the laundromat. He'd just have to pack everything up and return home. What a waste, the whole trip had been for nothing-

    The clink of coins snapped him out of his mental cursing, and he looked up in shock to see Kakashi paying for his loads. 

    “Oh no,” he sputtered, “please, Kakashi, you don't have to-”

    “It's fine. You can pay next time,” Kakashi said with a wave. 

    “But I...well...oh, alright, fine.” Iruka sighed, giving in. “Thank you.”

    “So it's a date then,” Kakashi said. “Which cycle do you prefer?” 

    “Cotton cycle, cold water, extra rinse, please,” Iruka said automatically, then blinked. “Wait, I'm sorry, did you say-” 

    “See you next week,” Kakashi was already halfway to the door, his ninken's clothes tucked under his arms and a pile of quarters left on Iruka's table for the rest of his loads. Iruka gaped after him in shock. 

    Had that...really just happened? Had he really exchanged pleasantries with one of the most infamous shinobi of Konoha while folding laundry? Or had it all been merely a dream, a figment of his imagination-

    “You washing those shorts, too?” Genma asked hopefully, leering like a hungry wolf.

    Nope, he was definitely awake. Iruka threw some Tide-pods at Genma to chase him away before turning back to his loads, shaking his head in wonder.

    He'd definitely be doing his laundry more often from now on.

(Written for @kakairu-fest KakaIru Month 2021, Day Ten Prompt: Laundry)

[bnhavibes]

ummmm.... so 👉🏽👈🏽 i’m sorry for being MIA.....

.

.

.

.

but...... take this as an apology, yeah?

Kirishima, Eijirou x fem!Reader 🍋 18+ NSFW

—————//———-//——————-///—————herego

It wasn’t too often that you went to the gym with your boyfriend. Partially because you despised the campus rec center in its entirety, but mostly because of the gruesome nature that Eijirou exuded whenever he tried to impress you.

Just knowing that you were watching him while he worked out made him feel nervous, like he had to put on a show for you to see just how manly he was. Sometimes, however, the two of you would go your separate ways; you’d head off to the outdoor pool for a full body workout consisting of an lazily paced laps and leisurely laying out in the sun for a tan, and he’d go do his usual routine.

Today was one of these days.

Your loving boyfriend, however, was in some type of broody mood and you couldn’t understand why he hadn’t tried to speak to you other than to get you off your phone on the walk to the gym.

*Typically*, he’d pull you in for a sweet kiss before giving you that adorable toothy grin and a “Later, babe! Don’t miss me too much.” before splitting apart.

*Typically* the two of you would discuss what workouts you would be doing and if he would be working with or without you before you would even enter the gym.

Today was definitely atypical.

He hadn’t spoke to you save for the small talk about your own days at school... And then you started scrolling through instagram, and he didn’t even try to make conversation.

At first, you figured he was just tired and dragging himself to the gym despite not wanting to go. But then you’d look over at him in a side glance, and his expression would be blank— distant, like he wasn’t interested in whatever it was you were going to talk about.

It was late in the afternoon, and thanks to the hero course getting out so late, you got to avoid the rush of crowds at the RC.

When you usually came, there was a bustling atmosphere of all student types hanging in and around the building like it was some sort of stomping grounds. No matter who was gathered around of the two of you when you entered, someone would always make an audible reaction to the your shared parting kiss.

You pouted when he grumbled a soft “See you in a bit” at you, and walked off to the male changing rooms before you could grab him and ask what was wrong, or where your kids was. Luckily there wasn’t anybody around to see that. Despite your gut telling you that he was upset about something, you went about your routine(opting for the lazy route today since your man’s attitude left a sour taste in your mouth)

You tried to push his blank expression out of your head when you jumped into the water, letting your body fall to a soft float in the deep end; eyes open and thoughts racing to figure out just what was wrong with him. Was it something you said? It couldn’t be, you tend to praise him for just about anything whenever you spoke to him. Maybe the way you dressed for the day threw him off? No, he wasn’t controlling or toxic like that.

Whatever it was, it was pissing you off now. And you didn’t even spend time to tan with how worried you were about it; instead, you chose to leave the pool early and head to the changing rooms.

After getting a rinse off, and changing into some loose shorts and a tank top, you wandered aimlessly into the gym in search of the spikey red haired boy.

He was where he usually was, of course, the back of the gym where the deadlifters would meander about, taking turns picking up weights and watching each other’s forms in the mirror, but today it was just him.

Just him and his angry, scrunched up face watching himself as he lifted his way too heavy bar loaded with a few too many weights. You’d never seen him lift this amount before, and it worried you to the point that you almost used your Quirk to teleport yourself over by him in an instant before he injured himself.

But he didn’t. He lifted the bar like it was nothing to him. The rock solid hero in training was making the most of his Quirk, his rugged skin and rippling muscles were a sign that he was working on pushing the limits of it— and it was paying off tenfold.

Despite how angry he looked, and the literal puddle of sweat he was creating, you couldn’t stop yourself from hiding behind a machine and watching him in the distance. Something about the way he was so easily lifting a good 500kgs or more made your thighs clench together.

More and more people started leaving the free weight area until the room was emptied out entirely; the two of you the only ones who stayed behind. Still, you didn’t want to intrude on his workout, and just as you were going to leave from your perfectly hidden perverted lookout, he began to clean up.

Immediately, you noticed he had overexerted himself. From the stiffness of his body while attempting to put the weights away, to the crinkle in his nose every time he’d move a limb to wipe his sweat off.

And like any good girlfriend, you instantly teleported to his side— unintentionally scaring the life out of him in the process.

“A-AUGH! Wh-What the hell, (name)?! You couldn’t walk up to me like a normal person?” His face, though flushed from the heat, had gone pale for a second there.

“I’m sorry, my love!” You exclaimed, “I didn’t mean to scare you, I came to ask if you needed any help. You looked like you were going to snap with that last attempt.”

Still he gave you a small shrug, biting down on his lip to hide the pain he was in just from the small movement.

“Ngh, wouldn’t you rather look through instagram? I think I can handle wiping the sweat off myself on my own, I’m manly enough!” He huffed as he spoke, avoiding your gaze as he *very slowly* attempted to pick up the towel off the ground, his knees collapsing as his body trembled.

“Eiji!” You yelped, getting on your knees with him, a carefully place hand on his shoulder to keep him upright. “Just sit back, okay? There’s not too much left anyways, I got you.”

He huffed again, pouting slightly as you sat back onto your legs. You’d made it clear you knew he was upset with you by opting to stay silent as you ran the towel across his forehead and spiraled to the nape of his neck to collect any free drips of sweat off his perfectly chiseled body.

The air was still between you as he sat limp on the floor, but you were still happy to help. There was much more to clean than usual, but the towel that he had brought with him seemed to be doing it’s job as you brought it down along the length of his arm, holding his wrists gently with one hand so that the other could maneuver around him. You couldn’t help the heat building between your legs, however. Your face beginning to flush as he released sore groans as you gently squeezed his limbs. He watched you intently, an eyebrow slightly raised as you chewed into your lower lip while working on his thighs. He couldn’t help himself from getting a little turned on with the position you and your soft hands were in; between his thighs on your knees, with one hand on his knee to hold yourself up as you crept the towel up his torso, his tank top collecting in bunches and moving up out of the way as you did your job.

Now he was blushing, the anxiety of someone walking in on your ass bent over in the reflection of the mirror and atop his lap giving him the chills.... But he couldn’t stop you as you pressed your chest against his half-soft crotch, eyes half lidded and leering into his with that sweet feigned innocence in your gaze.

“B-Baby? What are you doing?” His chest heaved as you slipped your fingers up past the towel and crawled into a straddle on his lap.

“Cleaning you up just did something to me, Eiji~” You purred, snaking your arms around his head and pressing your lips to his cheek whilst scooting your crotch along his in attempt to get him closer to you. “I can’t help myself when you look so yummy after a workout.”

He could cry at the crudeness of your comment, the blood draining from his face and racing to the pumping erection in his shorts. “We can’t— Not here, they’re gonna see— oof!”

In an instant, you were teleported to the changing rooms. he was seated on a benched wall adjacent to the lockers, and you were already pawing at his top to remove it.

“Babe?” He breathlessly protested, “I don’t think it’s a good— oh~.... fuck.” His eyes fluttered shut as you suckled onto the weak spot behind his ear, hips swirling along his lap in a needy hump, and he could hear faint sticky sounds as your body became a self lubricating mess for him. He groaned softly, too sore to push you off, too turned on to stop you from doing what you were to him. He licked his lips as you removed your own top, hardened nipples in full view since you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Baby, you were so mad at me earlier,” You whined, cupping your breasts with his hands under yours, massaging yourself as you kept your hips moving. “I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t even focus on working out and when I saw you pushing yourself so hard it made me so proud to have such a manly boyfriend.”

Oh you were good at this, he could feel the saliva collecting in his mouth as he watched you writhe about in his lap. His heartbeating so hard against his chest and your wet crotch that whatever it was that made him mad was nothing but an anomaly.

“Oh, princess, I can’t stay mad at you when you look at me like that.” He moaned, leaning back against the wall to feel you grind against his entire length, giving you access to do as you please to him.

You batted your lashes down at him, still holding a hand against his own, but caressing the frame of his face with another. “You sure, Red Daddy Riot?”

He almost came right there. His flushed cheeks returned at the name he fell victim to.

“Yes, of course, princess. But you could always make it up to me, couldn’t you?”

A cruel smile spread along your cheeks, stopping your hips and hopping off his lap, earning a low whine in protest. “Tck, Tck. Be patient now.”

“So mean.” He panted, his hands moving to his waistline, pulling his shorts down just enough for his dick to escape as you turned away from him.

You decided to give him a show as you removed your bottoms, bending over slightly as you tantalizingly pulled the shorts off. He threw his head back, hitting the wall with a soft thump! as he began pumping his cock to relieve the pressure of being teased.

“Like what you see, Daddy?” Sultry in your voice, you gave yourself a playful smack to the cheek, wiggling your legs out of the shorts and playing with the lining of your panties; the thin fabric wrapping around your fingers before you tugged them down, bending over completely with them; dripping pussy in full view with the way your legs were spread.

“(name). here. now.” He growled as he ceased his moving hand, a frustrated pout on his lips.

“Yes, Red Daddy Riot.” You complied, stalking over to him with that same feigned innocence as earlier as you crawled up onto his lap.

His dick was fluctuating between Hardening and a regular erection, a sign that he was so overwhelmed with hormones that he couldn’t control his Quirk. Precum practically seeped out of the beet red tip, and you licked your lips as you watched your cunt swallow him up inch by pulsating inch.

The two of you groaned as your pelvises met. He was panting with impatience as he let you adjust to his size, squeezing your hips and ass like it was his last grip of restraint.

“Please move, princess. You’ve done enough working me up like this. I won’t be responsible for what happens if you continue on.” He was stern, but his eyes were pleading, he had been holding back the entire time you were wiping him down. It was hotter than you intended, the way you were so focused on helping him. He was watching you the entire time, despite you thinking he was still mad at you.

You beamed a smile down at him as you pressed your arms against the wall behind his head. “Anything for you, my love.”

You began slow, grinding your hips along his length the same as before, mouth opened in an “o” as you peered down at him, his furrowed brows and sweaty forehead a tell that not only was he enjoying this, but he needed more.

“Fuck,” He moaned breathlessly, pressing a hand at the bottom of your back to keep you buried to the hilt. “Your pussy feels so good, baby, you make me wanna stay buried this deep inside you forever.”

You moaned, pulling his chest to yours, bringing your legs up onto the bench to feel him even deeper, your legs quivering at the delicious pumping inside your walls. “God, Eijirou, when did you start being so lewd?”

“I can’t help it when you feel this good, (name). You’re milking my cock like a good little girl; look at you! All supple and pressed against me like this.” His words only fueling your lust, making you dig your hips deeper against his lap. He groaned as you slid along his legs, keeping one palm on your back and the other at the nape of your neck.

“Fuck, Daddy, you feel so good~” You choked out, needily thrusting on his cock as you let out whiney grunt, working yourself harshly against him. “Your cock is scraping my insides so well~”

“You’re the lewd one now, princess. That sure is a filthy mouth you got there,” He moaned, eyes squeezing shut as he began closing his fist around your neck, his thumb burying itself into your throat. Squishy, wet slaps filled the locker room. He could hear every time your cunt sucked him in and every time your hips snapped along his own.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck~!” You cried, picking your pace up as you chased your orgasm. “I’m cumming, Daddy, nngh~! I’m cumming on your cock, a-ammhphh~” Your moans silenced by the tongue in your mouth, he sat forward as he squeezed your body inhumanly close to his, thrusting upwards to meet your own. Your orgasm hit you instantly, a guttural moan echoing in the still air as he sloppily laid kisses and licks around your jawline, arms squeezing you in place as he fucked himself into you harder.

“You like that, babe?” He growled in your ear, “You like when I fuck you back like this, huh? Is this what you wanted from me? God listen to your pussy, you squirted all over my cock didn’t you?” His voice was gruff, speaking between his teeth as he continued mercilessly thrusting into you.

You were moaning so much you couldn’t speak, the walls of your pussy clenching around him so hard you felt the second orgasm already building up. “Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, right there~ Ba-a-b—b—-uhhh~” Your head fell back as he relentlessly shook your body around, tongue lolling to the side while he abused your nether regions.

whap!

He slapped your ass cheek, causing you body to spasm roughly as he continued his ruthless fucking. “Don’t forget, it’s Daddy.” He scolded for your slip up, cock Hardening inside you; the rigged feeling made you scream, tearing up as you came a second time, smothering his lap in your essence.

“Mmm,” He hummed, “A second one already. You greedy girl. At least let me catch up before you lap over me.”

Your thighs clenched around his torso, keeping him in place while he bottomed out into you, spewing his load all over your spongey insides. “Daddy! P-Please, keep going! I— nnnnnFUCK!” you cried, slamming down on his lap harder, your hand finding its way to the folds of your cunt, shakily searching for your clit.

“You want more?” He groaned, “Fuck, princess, you’re so greedy today. But don’t worry, Red Daddy Riot’s got plenty of cum for that needy pussy of yours.”

Bringing your head up by your hair, he held you up by his face whilst cumming a second time, watching you as your eyes rolled backward and furiously rubbing your clit.

Your third orgasm didn’t even faze him, the way your walls were spasming, you were probably continuously cumming at this point. Still, the look on your face fueled him enough to grit through his sore muscles and flip you onto the bench, pressing your legs against the wooden furniture by your ankles, and fucking you into oblivion as his own orgasm spilled out of his cock.

A slew of curses and your name left his lips, his hips sputtering while he finally released his Hardening from his dick. He began to bite down on the underside of your thigh, shark-like teeth causing your legs to shake harder. You yelped from the pain, but his unwavering movements subdued you into more bliss, your brain in a fuzzy state of mind you couldn’t tell what felt good or bad anymore. He didn’t draw blood, but there were prominent purple bite marks along your lower legs, his last orgasm already leaking out as he gave you tiresome, slowed humps.

He toppled onto your chest, arms hanging over the sides of the bench as he lay his head in your neck.

“I tap out.” He said breathlessly. “I don’t think I can move anymore.”

You had forgotten all about his workout earlier, and despite your quivering body, you reached for your bags and clothes beneath you, placing them on his back before focusing all the remainder of your energy into one final teleportation. You might’ve overexerted yourself as well in the process, but it was better than the two of you crawling your way to the dorms.

Unfortunately, you didn’t make it to the bed, instead, the two of you plopped onto the floor of your bedroom.

“Now neither of us can move.” He complained.

“It could be worse.” You said, a hint of embarrassment in your voice. “I could’ve miscalculated and landed in the living room.”

“Please don’t tell me you did.” He said, eyes still shut.

“Can you run?” You said, a hint of play poking through your voice. “I’m kidding.”

“Geez, you sure are a riot, (name). And that’s coming from me.” He lazily pressed a kiss against your neck. “I love you, princess.”

“I love you too, Red Daddy Riot.” You giggled.

[zrtranscripts]

Home Front, Mission 22: Red Riding Hood

What's the time, Mr. Wolf?

~

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Hello again, ci-ti-zens, and welcome back to Radio Lock-In. Zoe’s still waiting out the super horde in an animal shelter and talking to me via ROFFLEnet, but she and I have a special treat for you today. We are going outside. Not literally outside. While the horde seems a bit smaller than it used to be, two-thirds of way too many zoms are still way, way too many zoms. No. Instead, we are going outside through the power of storytelling.

So start warming up because you are in for a treat... possibly. Anyway, Zoe and I had such a good time bringing you Cinderella that we're going to retell another fairy tale classic, complete with ministry workouts and our own spin on the story. We thought about doing Rapunzel, but being trapped in a tower seems a bit too on the nose at the moment, so instead, we've gone with Little Red Riding Hood. I never cared for it much myself, but uh, Zoe insists it's great and it's actually all about a young girl coming to terms with her burgeoning sexuality. I'd fill you in on the explanation, but we haven't got two hours.

Anyway, it's definitely a story that features two things we are both very sorely missing at the moment: fresh air and delicious baked goods. And with that, let's begin with an imaginary skip down a peaceful forest path. Your riding hood is beautiful and uh, red. Your basket is full of goodies, and you're enjoying the scenery. So saunter along to this track made for the perfect summer day.

~

[PHIL alternates between different voices for characters and his own voice for narration and exercise instructions]

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Ah, the smell of imaginary oak and blackberry jam. But wait, is that a big bad wolf further up the forest path? Let's listen in on the conversation between him and Red Riding Hood, which was written by Zoe and yours truly. Zoe wrote the wolf and I wrote Red Riding Hood, which you'd probably never be able to guess if I hadn't told you. Zoe's wolf speaks first, obviously.

“Hello, little boy, I mean, little girl. Aren't you bored of staying on the forest path like mother New Canton taught you? Life's much more fun if you stray.” “Is that why you're out here in the forest, for fun? Or is it because you went for a walk and got lost and then when the zombie horde descended, you ended up stuck miles away from home, sleeping in a nest made of old jumpers? You know, hypothetically speaking.” “Oh, maybe, but just think, straying off the beaten track could lead you to a shelter full of adorable animals, one of whom is now named Snuffle McCheeseman because he bears a strong resemblance to a man named Phil whom you haven't seen in ages. Also hypothetically speaking, of course.”

It went on like that for a bit, but we should skip ahead. So Red Riding Hood decides to take a detour from the path through a bramble patch to reach a beautiful field of wild daisies, carefully squirming away through the undergrowth to avoid being prickled by the thorns. Let's do the same and inch our way through with some inchworms.

Start in a standing position, feet hip-width apart and knees slightly bent. Now bend over and put your hands on the floor in front of your feet as close as you can get, then walk your hands forward until your back is flat and you look like you're at the top of a push-up. Once you're there, walk your hands back to your feet. Perfect! If you were near a bramble patch right now, you'd be getting through scratch-free.

All right, let's do a minute of inchworms. Go! 15 seconds in. Red Riding Hood can see the daisies through a gap in the bushes, but they're not quite in reach. Halfway there. Now she's nibbled on a few wild blackberries and composed a short limerick that begins, "There once was a red hood for riding." 15 seconds left to go. The daisies are almost close enough to touch. Keep going! All done!

And wow, absolutely worth it! Red Riding Hood is surrounded by the biggest and most beautiful daisies she's ever seen. Now she just has to inch her way back to the path and skip along to Granny's. Feel free to continue doing inchworms during this next song along with her, or use it to rest and smell the imaginary flowers.

~

[PHIL alternates between different voices for characters and his own voice for narration and exercise instructions]

PHIL CHEESEMAN: With sweets and flowers in hand, Red Riding Hood has now reached Granny's cottage. Finding the door ajar, she creeps down the hallway to find a suspiciously furry grandmother who says, "Hello, little girl whose name I definitely remember because she is my granddaughter. Come here and hug me." "How convincing. You are definitely not a wolf trying to eat me, I'm sure."

"Of course not! Would I lie to you and say, try to convince you that the radio studio was haunted until you tossed salt over your shoulder whenever you stepped over the threshold every day for a month?" "Obviously not, and if I'm backing away right now, it's absolutely not because I'm beating you at your own game by say, making you think I'm going to stage an elaborate studio spirit cleansing ritual until you admit your wrongdoing." Um, but of course, Red Riding Hood is backing away as fast as she can.

Let's join her with some backward lunges. Start by standing with your feet hip-width apart again, then take a big step backwards with your right foot. Now bend both knees to lower yourself to the floor. Your left shin should stay vertical and your left knee should stay behind your toes. Once you've got as far down as you can, rise back up. Step that right foot forward so your feet are parallel, and then do the whole thing again on your left side.

Ready? Let's do this for one minute. Go! 15 seconds in. "Granny, what a lot of fur you have all over your body. Perhaps you should have that looked at." Halfway done. "An unfortunate side effect of my blood pressure medication, my dear." Only 15 seconds left. "The same medication that seems to have given you fangs and a tail?" And done!

Red Riding Hood has made it all the way back to the front door, but the wolf, who's sensing that she's not falling for his nonsense, gets out of the bed and starts charging forward. Fortunately, I have the perfect song for this moment of dramatic tension. While it plays, you can keep lunging your way backwards or practice your favorite fighting stance as you get ready for a showdown!

~

[PHIL alternates between different voices for characters and his own voice for narration and exercise instructions]

PHIL CHEESEMAN: I have some bad news for you. While we were listening to that track, the wolf ate Red Riding Hood. "So rude." "I agree, my dear. I thought the same thing when he gobbled me up not an hour ago." "Granny, how are you still..." Look, sorry, losing track of the voices a bit there. I meant to say, "Granny, how are you still alive?" I don't know much about biology, but this seems a bit far-fetched, like that time I told my mum that I had a separate stomach compartment for sweets, which is why I could be full from dinner and still want pudding. Uh, but that's not the point.

Right now, we're gonna help Red Riding Hood and Granny get out of their furry food prison with some wolf fighting uppercuts! Begin by getting into boxing stance by standing with your feet shoulder-width apart, stepping back with your right foot and bending your elbows to put your fists up, left fist in front of your face as a guard and right closer to your body. Now to do an uppercut, bend your knees, rotate your right shoulder forward and push off with your right calf as you punch upwards with your right arm. Your right heel should rotate and release as you're punching. Now return to your starting position and you're ready for the next uppercut.

We're going to give the wolf what for, first with 30 seconds of right-handed punches, then 30 from the left. Let's go! 15 seconds in. Give that wolf what for! Halfway there, and Granny's joined in with some well-placed jabs. Now switch sides to put your left leg behind and get ready to finish the job with your left fist. Only 15 seconds left. The wolf is ready to let you free, just keep going! And done. Back out the way you came? Disgusting, but better than the alternative. Take a minute to wipe that pretend wolf slime off, or um... or keep practicing your punches in preparation for any future wolves during this next song.

~

[PHIL alternates between different voices for characters and his own voice for narration and exercise instructions]

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Great job! Red Riding Hood has all dried off and the wolf has passed out from what has got to be the world's least pleasant meal. Red Riding Hood and Granny could slip away, but Red has an idea. Which, in case you think means ‘oh, we have sick minds,’ it’s actually part of the original story.

So Red's idea is, "Grandma, let's fill the wolf's stomach with heavy rocks so he can't chase any more people and eat them." "Are you serious? Where'd you come up with these cockamamie ideas? What's next, we build a house of gingerbread and cook small children for fun?" "That's... oddly specific, Grandma, but no. I just know how our story is supposed to go. Trust me, I know a lot about this particular tale. I once played a wolf in a children's troupe. I am an expert." So the two agree to fill the wolf with rocks, and we'll be helping them out with some squats.

Stand upright like before, with your arms out in front and your feet hip-width apart. Now sit backwards as if you were gonna sit into a chair, taking care that your knees stay behind your feet, just like you did when we were lunging. Go down as low as feels comfortable, and then stand back up, and there you have it.

Ready? Begin. 15 seconds in. Picture yourself picking a big rock out of the pile and lifting it up with each squat. Halfway through. Pile those rocks in the wolf's stomach. He'll be feeling that when he wakes up. 15 seconds of rock piling left to go. Take that, wolfie! Done! You've dumped every rock in sight into the wolf. Now all you have to do is wait to see what happens next, either by shaking out your legs or by squatting your way through this next song.

~

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Great work. Now if we were in the original version of Red Riding Hood, the wolf would chase after Red and Granny across a river, where the rocks would weigh him down until he drowned. Well, as Zoe points out, you really can't be that mad at a talking wolf for doing what talking wolves do. So our wolf, after waking up with a belly full of rocks, realizes that eating people is way too dangerous a lifestyle choice and decides to go to culinary school to learn how to cook plant-based food instead, eventually becoming an acclaimed vegan chef who releases several cookbooks about big, bad, bold flavors, the end.

It's nice being able to rewrite a story like this so it works out better for all the characters involved. I think with so much outside our control right now, it's good to remember that our imaginations are still our own and in them, we can make everything work out for the best. We may not know what comes next in our world, but I believe the spirit of optimism and invention can still help us all reach our own happy ever afters.

~

[sherlockfanficwriting]

Sherlock BBC Mycroft                                        “Her Love”

Summary - Mycroft and you have always competed with one another since as early as university; you hated each other, but only on the outside. Life moved on as everyone separated into their own lives and jobs, but one particular day you meet him again. After a certain set of events, you end up rescuing him, and what happens after that is untold. 

Warnings - none, not sure

A/N - hola! second story from a break hope everyone is healthy and happy and chilling. Make sure to eat well, workout, and relax :) its literally summer! But anyways enjoy this story and send me some more requests as i am getting through them. (this one was a request and i loved it sm)

Years ago in University

You enter the Criminal Justice classroom and sit near the bottom of the high set of seats. You adjust yourself into a comfortable position and pull your books out. You hadn’t even opened one of them yet. You didn’t need to. After a handful of students walked in, the professor does too. 

“Good morning. How is everybody today?” The professor asked. He swiftly pulled out his papers and began scribbling on the board. The students mumbled a polite answer. You turned your head to the side and met the devilish grazing eyes of Mycroft Holmes. He eyed you suspiciously and you returned it, but quickly darted his eyes back to the front after a second of contact. You smiled and shook your head. He thought he was better than you, but he wasn’t, and he knew it. Even if he didn’t, you would constantly make him know. 

“Okay, a little different approach here today, class. You all recall that last case study we were working on, I assume? We touched up on it a few days ago. Refresh yourselves quickly on the complexity of the case. It continues today. I will be discussing and asking all of you questions. Remember, you’re the top of the top here.” 

You narrowly turned your head to glance at Mycroft. His attention was focused on the professor. He didn’t blink. 

“What was the intent of the murder?” The professor asked. 

“Maternal revenge,” you spat out, barely after the question was out of his mouth. The professor nodded at you and continued on. The class was a breeze. 

“What was the initial thought of the victim walking in the room?” 

“To arm himself yet not be disguised. He wanted to hide but only wished to in his mind. He chose to ponder about slowly to his demise,” Mycroft rapidly spoke. 

You rolled your eyes. After a dozen more questions that rotated between you and Mycroft, the class was over. You abruptly stood up and walked out of the classroom near the exit of the building. You heard Mycroft walking behind you. You didn’t speak or say anything to him. He walked outside with you and finally matched up to your speed. 

“You think you’re better than me.” Mycroft said. 

You laughed. “I am.” 

“You see that’s the problem. I am superior and I will always be. Just simply stop trying.” 

“You’re going to have to try harder than that.” 

---Years Later-----

Your alarm not so peacefully woke you up from your tranquil slumber. You shifted your body closer to the side of your bed to read those bright red numbers you despised. 

6:00

You groaned, practically tripping over nonexistent items as you walked to your bathroom. You quickly brushed your teeth and pulled together your hair. Soft strands of hair rested over your shoulder. Feeling more awake, you hopped to your closet and ran your hands along the minimalist cashmere and silk clothes that you owned. You pulled out a a pair of black trousers and a cream colored blouse. You paired it with a black blazer. As you stepped infront of the long mirror in the corner of your room, your eye caught the morning sun’s reflection off the glass of your diplomas and recognitions. A silver heart for bravery was pinned to the wall next to glass encovered cases as well as colored ribbons signifying your criminal investigation awards. You smiled to yourself in the mirror. This was who you were. 

After applying a light wave of makeup over your features you slipped on a pair of dark heels and your purse. You skipped down the steps as if you were wearing sneakers and stepped near the curb to call for a cab. One came speeding by and you jumped in. 

“Manchester Station.” 

After a pleasant speedy drive halfway through the city of Manchester, the cab slowed down to a stop. You tipped the man and stepped out of the car, walking up to the long set of cream steps. You swiftly walked through the door, manuvering your body through the bustling people. You walked up the main steps to get to your office. As you walked down the hallway you glanced in one of the glass-walled offices. You saw one of your partners, James with a phone pressed up to his ear, lightly scribbling notes. He noticed you and offered a warm smile to which you returned. You passed a few other colleagues on your way to the office to whom you waved at. As soon as you opened your door you practically collapsed. As much as you loved being a detective, being in the office for a mere hour was enough to kill you. Being on the streets and in the action was what provided you with the vigor and stamina to which you live your life now. Picking yourself back up, you went over to your coffee machine and started a cup. A few seconds later, you heard a knock at your door accompanied with the sound of the door swinging open. You turned your head to see Paul and Lauren, another close colleague, standing there. 

“Deduce me!” They both shouted, giggling. This wasn’t a new thing. Multiple times a day they would ask you this. It felt good. You were born like this. You could tell them a thousand things they would never think twice about. You picked up your coffee and locked eyes with Paul. Your eyes moved down and up and left and right, absorbing and understanding his movements and attire and his face. The face told a lot. 

“You didn’t eat today. You were wearing a dark shirt but promptly changed it after a minute. You recently talked to your family; they are warm and welcome which is new and refreshing for you.” 

Paul scoffed. “Amazes me everytime.”

“My turn!” Lauren exclaimed.

You proceeded to look at her, but Lewis, the “head man” of your department suddenly walked in the door. His face was tense and his actions followed along. Your body stiffened and you were alert. 

“We’re going to London. Now.” He said, promptly rushing away. You swigged your coffee and walked out of the doorway. Paul and Lauren jogged to their offices. You caught Lewis running down the hallway. Something was wrong. Something was going on. You ran after him. 

“Lewis, when are we leaving? Why are we going to London?” You asked. 

He stopped momentarily and caught his breath. “Important case. The govenment. We’re leaving now. We’ll take my car. Paul will drive with Lauren. We need to go now. It’s at least a 4 hour drive.” He grabbed your arm lightly and you ran off with him. 

“Why do they ask for us?”

Lewis chuckled. “For you mainly. Like I said, hard case, but not a challenging one. One that requires only the intelligent.” 

You couldn’t believe it. You ran down the steps and hopped into the shotgun seat of Lewis’s car. He ran inside and ignited the key, promptly speeding away. Thoughts rushed through your head quickly. You’ve only been in England for a few years yet you have never been to London. Why, you ask? You didn’t have the slightest clue. 

Lewis sped at least ten miles above the speed limit on the highway, causing your heart to race out of excitement. You could just taste it. 

“Did you get any case background?” You asked. 

Lewis shook his head. “It’s highly contained. From my time here, I’m only guessing its something technological.” 

“Linked with something physical.” You said. 

He nodded. “You’ll do it. You’re the best we have. The best anyone would have.” 

You smiled at him. You weren’t nervous, you were ready. It was about time. 

3 hours later from excessive speeding 

Lewis’s car stopped in front of an immensely tall building covered with blue glass windows. You had no idea what this was. Secret Service? Most likely. 

You walked with Lewis to the front door and met a plethora of guards. You both showed your badges and after a few phone calls made from the guards and nodds of respect, you walked inside. The inside was captivating. Everything was modernized and the surfaces reflective. Tall, powerful figures moved about. Lewis and you walked up the main steps.

“They’re meeting us on the second floor. I wouldn’t be so sure where.” He said, turning left and right. 

You knew where from looking at the room. “In here. Should we wait?” 

“No need to.” A stern voice said from behind you and Lewis. You turned your head and gazed up to a young tall man. His eyes were tired but his spirit was strong. He was a lower tier colleague of almost no status.

“It’s over here,” he said, leading you to the next hallway over. The flooring plan suddenly changed and led up to an even larger glass room full of guards on each corner of the premicise. The man walked up to the door and opened it for you and Lewis. You walked inside, eyeing every single thing you could. You saw four men and an older woman standing near the window, holding papers and chattering visciously. 

The man who just led you in coughed and everyone turned around. A short man burst out from the group and said, “We’ve been expecting you. We apologize for the short notice. I’m sure you understand the gravity of the situation.” 

“We understand. We know you couldn’t provide the information over phone. Everything is as planned.” Lewis said. 

The man looked worried and nodded to him. He turned his attention to you. When he did so, his face untensed and his eyes relaxed. He held out his hand to you. 

“You, Miss, we’ve heard nothing but good.”

You shook his hand and he quickly cut loose from the courtesy. 

“We must get to the case. Please, sit down.” He motioned. The four other people sat around the table and you sat next to Lewis on one side. The head of the table was missing. The chair, idle. You wondered who sat there. 

“There’s professional hacking done. Televisions abruptly stopping and transferring to messages. Murders....with......banks......robbing......aquiesced with no hesitation.........killers............terrorists...”

You zoned in and out of the words being spoken. You had the whole concept down in about two minutes. The rest wasn’t vital information for you. 

The short man faced you. “We need you to crack codes and primarily investigate a mansion in the countryside. He worked for the govenrment, he was up here. Killed. I’m sure it will take you time to understand why and how he was murdered, but you have time.” 

You tried not to scoff. You could get it done without even being there. They underestimate you. 

“(Y/N), is good at this. She’s a star in computer programming. Give her any computer, she’ll have all the codes and passwords lied out for you in minutes.” Lewis said. 

“I understand that. However actions are key here. There was a reason we called you. Lewis, you’ll stick with our management and analysis now. I see you have two other detectives, they can branch out to the banks and such with our other teams.” 

Suddenly the large glass doors swung open. You didn’t turn around to look, but you knew it was the head of the table, whoever that was.” 

“Sir, I ran through the prerequisites and plan with them. We start today with this team.” The man said. You looked down at your legs and across to the window, endlessly bored. 

“Yes, you told me who you would bring. A girl? You insisted she was....good? I didn’t get a chance to read over the folder.” 

That voice sounded familiar

“Why, yes, Mr. Holmes, she’s right here. (Y/N).” 

Your heart dropped. You knew that name. You whipped your head to the head of the table and met the surprised eyes of Mycroft Holmes. You locked eyes, trying to understand. 

“Mr. Holmes, (Y/N), is everything....?” The man asked. 

“Everything is well, Thomas. I personally knew (Y/N) a handful of years ago. University.” He said. 

You smiled and nodded your head. 

“Right, now, we must all leave now. I have teams on numerous locations already.” He said, abruptly standing up. Everyone else rushed up and followed him out of the door. You couldn’t believe he was here. The head of this. The mastermind. You almost forgot about him, but you never forget intelligence. 

You rushed out of the room to find him walking down the hall with two others. One was frantically talking into the phone. You walked up to Mycroft’s side. 

“Where am I going?” You asked. 

“With us. Helicopter pad is a floor up.” 

You smirked, reading him and his actions. “You remember me?” You asked, looking up at him. He looked down at you and for a moment you knew he wanted to “intelligently insult” you, as both of you did in university before, but he smiled at you. 

“Only the smartest I recall. You’re with us now. This will be a challenge for you.” He said. You skipped up the steps to the roof with him. 

“I’ll be okay.” You said. 

Mycroft stepped aside for you to enter the helicopter. He sat next to you and fixed his head gear. You placed your headsets on and Mycroft gave a signal for the pilots to go. You’ve only been inside a helicopter a few times and each time you enjoyed the rush and looking down upon the city and countryside from afar.  

Mycroft tapped your arm and motioned to look at his window. You moved over to his side and looked down on the ground. 

“This is the countryside. The man who we’re investigating lives...right there,” he said, pointing to a charming large cream colored mansion. Well manicured bushes and trees surrounded it. You quickly took in all the visible exits and windows and doors. 

“How did someone get inside with all of that security?” You asked, raising your voice to shield against the loudness of the helicopter. 

He looked at you, but didn’t speak. “That’s what we must figure out. The answers are there, but not in plainsight.” 

The helicopter began lowering and then softly landed on the grass, causing ripples through the field. You took your headsets off and hopped out after Mycroft. He waited for you by his side and began walking to the back door. 

He turned his body towards you and stopped, pulling something out of his pocket. A gun. 

“You might need this. Preparation. You know the deal.” He handed it to you. You stuffed it in your waistline hook. Mycroft opened the door and walked inside with you. Naturally, you scanned the proximities and let your mind do the thinking. After walking a few feet you gained a handful of valuable information from this. He continued into a grand lobby area and there on the ground near the main steps lay a body. You quickly walked up to it and intricately studied it. Nothing hit your mind initially, but you felt something coming. 

“Shot in the chest. Took him out after a few minutes of heavy bleeding.” Mycroft said. 

“He was dying before that.” 

“What?” 

“Poison. Intentional.”

“Who did this?” 

You thought hard and looked everywhere and anywhere. You knew this. 

“He didn’t know them. A man. Young. He wore a biohazard suit and dealt with chemicals. He became terrified so he shot him.” 

Mycroft folded his arms, still standing. “What was he going to do?” 

“I can’t be certain, but probably something with acid.” 

He raised his eyebrows and sighed. “I think you’re right. We’ll go through the house and examine more. When we’re done I’ll jot down all the evidence that you have about it.” He began walking up the steps. You ran up to him. 

“What have you been up to?” You asked him. 

He looked startled to hear the question, but accepted it. “Just being here and doing my job.” He was awkward like that. 

“You like commanding people. I know that.” 

He blushed and hung his head. “I know you do too.” 

You laughed. “To an extent. This is my first time in London. I never knew about you. You seem important.” 

He smiled. “I am.” Mycroft walked in a large bedroom, examining it. You walked to the other side of the house, going in and out of rooms, trying to make more sense of everything. You heard Mycroft mumbling on the phone. He changed a lot and certainly became more mature. Initially, you doubted it was even him. You bent down and looked under beds, carpets, inside drawers and desks and closets. Nothing was alarming too you. 

Slam 

You stopped in your tracks and kept silent. You heard a door hardly slam from the other side of the house where Mycroft was. Something was wrong. You quietly stepped into the hallway and walked slowly across to the door. As you grew nearer, you heard shuffling and a low voice. 

Your heart dropped. Someone was nearby. You didn’t speak, but you placed your hands on the door knob, slowly turning it open. You swiftly moved your body through the narrow opening and bent down next to the wall to listen. You had your hand on your gun, prepared.

Then you heard someone else’s gun click. 

You knew someone had Mycroft. Slowly, you crept your head near the corner to see. You pulled your gun out and slowly peeked your head out. There he was, a stranger, standing above Mycroft with a gun pointed at him and blood running from his head. He suddenly looked at you and shot in your direction. You ducked down and came out of hiding, effortlessly shooting at the man. You aimed for his head and squinted your eyes involuntarily. You rolled around on the floor, barely missing his shots. After your first miss, you shot a bullet directly in his head. He fell down. 

You ran to Mycroft and took his hands. 

“Are you alright?” You asked, squeezing his hands. 

He nodded. “You saved my life.” 

You smiled. “It wasn’t a big deal.” 

He shook his head. “Thank you.” You locked eyes with him and shared a moment of pleasantness. It gave you time to think and look at how much he changed. Never would you ever think in many years to come that you would save your past rivalry. You shifted your focus over to the body lying on the floor, blood pooling around his head. Mycroft noticed your dismay and touched your shoulder, offering you comfort. 

“We should leave.” He said. “I think this case is closed.” 

He stood up and walked out with you. “I hear you’re good with computers.” 

You stepped inside a bathroom and grabbed a small town on a hanger and threw it to Mycroft for his head. “More or less. I can teach you some things.” You walked down the steps with him and across the long lobby. He put his arm around your shoulders and you grabbed his hand, enjoying the moment. 

“We should catch up.” He said. 

“Dinner tonight?” 

“Couldn’t be any better.” 

[antman-56]

I Don’t Deserve You

Today was a special day. 

Well to the happy love birds, Ann and Ryuji, anyway.

How these two ended up together the majority of the school tried to figure out.

Hell even the school newspaper club made an article to understand the logic of those two. 

One was a beautiful model and the other was a total delinquent.

But as the school year raged on people started to notice a couple of things.

One : Ryuji stopped dying his hair blonde. It freaked Miss Kawakami out when he came to see Ann.

Two : He actually paid attention in his classes. From the below average student to making it to the top 10 in his class. (Mostly thanks to Makoto, and reluctantly Yusuke) He was accused of coping people and that accusation went with a full investigation. On which ended when they continuously found him in the library with his girlfriend and friends silently studying.

Three : He wore his school uniform correctly. This was actually the hardest thing for him and yet everyone didn’t even notice it. His guess was that they zoned him out. Until SOMEONE pointed it out.

And finally. 

Four : HE WAS DATING ANN TAKAMAKI AND SHE LOVED HIM!!!

Today was their one year anniversary. He had the day planned out. He asked Haru to make a reservation to a good restaurant (he would have done it but she was the daughter of a BIG CEO and he paid her back), have Makoto teach him some stuff about flowers (HE literally begged her), made enough time for Yusuke to make a “master piece” for free (he had to let them draw them on dates for the next 3 months) and Futaba to help him get find great deals on brand clothes and buy them somewhere convenient. And Akria just wished him luck last night. He really wished he was here to cheer him on.

Today had to be special.

But right now he had to get out of bed.

“It’s showtime.”

***Ann’s place***

 Ann had just finished her workout routine and was heading for the shower. 

Today would be a good time to try out that new shampoo bottle.

RING RING

Ann turned to look at her phone.

❤❤Babe❤❤

“You rang.”

“Hey you have anything planned for today”

“No, not really. Why you wanna meet up?”

“That’s the plan. I’ll see you at 4.”

Beep

Ann just looked at her phone. wondering why he sounded more tense then usual. Maybe he was stressed out, he did go all out on the test.

Maybe he just wanted to see me. We haven’t really talked since testing began.

She decided to go all out for him. He needs to relax or else he may pop a blood vessel.

***12 o clock***

“Daisy?!”

“Loyal love!”

“Primerose?!”

“I can’t live without you!”

“Orange Blossom?!”

“Eternal Love!”

Makoto closed the book and nodded.

“I have no more to teach you.”

“And I have the flowers.”

Haru gave him the bundle of flowers.

“I really appreciate this you guys.”

“Hold still. Your ruining my draft.”

Everyone turned to Yusuke.

“He said I was to draw his date and so on for 3 months. Now stop moving.”

“Inari stop being rude. And just because I know you two. The last bus to your guyes houses will be delayed when your late.”

“ALRIGHT I can do this.”

“Knock’em dead tiger.” Akira said over the skype call.

Ryjui marched out of the attic with Yusuke behind him. With the group giving him their support. 

“SHIT!!!”

He soon came back up to see Futaba holding out his wallet. 

He took it and was on his way. Again.

“Such a dork.” Futaba stated.

Everyone nodded.

***4 o clock***

Ryuji was outside of Ann’s door and was holding the bouquet of flowers nervously in his hands.

Here he was in a red and yellow flannel shirt and black jeans. He got them on clearance and an additional half off price with Futaba’s help. He basically got the damn things for free. 

Sure the shirt needed a patch up job but Haru was more than happy to help and Makoto kept Yusuke at bay from styling the shirt.

Why was he acting like this. It’s not like their first date!! No it was the most important date of his life right now!! I mean girls hold these thing to a high standard. Right?

“Stop that.” 

“What!” That snapped Ryuji out of his thoughts. He turned to see Yusuke focused on the paper

“Paranoid. It makes the drawing less presentable and gives out the most minimal effect possible.”

“I’m not!!”

“Your shaking slightly. obliviously sweating and over thinking things.”

That caught him off guard.

“Ann loves you. And you her. I’m pretty sure no matter how this date goes nothing will change between you two.”

That really calmed Ryuji down.

“Unless she catches you staring at other girls.”

“Hey” He dropped the flowers and marched to punch him when the door opened. 

In front of them stood Ana, who decided to let her hair down, who wore a red blouse with a clover on her right shoulder and black skirt. 

The boys noticed she smelled like cherry with a hint of lavender. 

What Ann saw was Ryuji about to punch Yusuke, who had a pencil and paper for some reason?

“Uh... what’s going on?”

Ryuji quickly stumped for an answer.

“He was complaining about my price for this masterpiece.”

““What’s this master piece Yusuke?”

“My drawing of you two on your date. 

Ann blushed and stared at a equal blushing and flabbergasted Ryuji.

“And in return I get to draw you two on dates for inspiration for 3 months.”

“WHAT!!!”

“Yes, now please pretend I’m not here.”

Yusuke quickly went back to his drawing, hiding his face in the process.

Ryuji took that as his chance to fill in the awkward silence.

“So, yeah I did agree to that. So, you look... Wow!”

“You don’t look so bad yourself. Are those new?”

“Yeah they are anyway back on topic lets get this show on the road. Oh and these are for you”

He grabbed the flowers on the flower and gave them to her.

Ann took them and gave them a sniff. They smell nice and they matched their colors.

Ryuji grabbed Ann’s free hand and began to march.

Ann meet his speed and followed her boyfriend smiling for the gift and at his antics.

“Don’t walk to fast.” Yusuke complained.

***8 o clock***

Yusuke had just left the couple and they couldn’t be any happier.

They loved the man but when it came to being his ‘willing’ models...he was demanding.

But what they got saved Ryuji a fortune. He hoped. 

Yusuke refused to show them what he finished said something about adding the finishing touches later.

They had just finished going to the park and they decided to skip the movie since it was a rerun (and because Yusuke needed them to spot him).

Through out all this, Ann noticed something. 

Ryuji was still tense, even after getting to talk again. (minus Yusuke’s occasional comments).

She thought maybe it was because Yusuke was here that he was more tense that he had to show he was perfect for her but, no he seemed just as tense as he was on the phone.

Now here they were alone and heading to a nice dinner in Ginza.

“Hey Ryuji.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s wrong?”

“What?”

“You’ve been acting weird all day.”

“What do you mean I’m acting weird?”

Ryuji began to sweat a bit more.

Since Yusuke left he was now on his own with Ann and she was now wondering if he didn’t meet her expectations. I mean they were followed for the majority of their anniversary.

“I don’t know what your talking about.” He answered weakly.

“Ryuji, what’s wrong?” She asked again with worry in her voice.

The last time he was like this was when he tried to hide the fact that his mom collapsed from over working herself. 

That was a nightmare times 10 for him and almost broke him. 

Now here they were. 

Ryuji desperately looking for a way out of this finally found an opening and unfortunately it was the worst one.

“OH SHIT THE TRAIN!!!”

Ryuji grabbed Ann’s hand and ran to catch it.

Ann was screaming at him to slow down or to just stop but he didn’t listen. 

They had to get the train

THEY HAD TO..

Just as he reached the platform the train left.

“GOD DAMMIT!!”

He watched as the train left the station along with their perfect date.

“RYUJI WHATS YOUR PROBLEM!!”

She pulled her hand out of his and was now mad at him.

“Because I messed tonight up.”

“What are you talking about?”

She sounded more confused than mad right now.

“Our one year anniversary.”

He sounded defeated.

Ann just stood in shock at him remembering that. Hell she completely forgotten what today was. 

“I asked Yusuke to make a drawing for us, asked the girls to help me make this as special as fucking possible and after all that I still Fucked it up!!”

He fell to his knees and looked down.

She finally understood why he was so tense. He wanted to make today special and she forgot what today was because he made her feel special.

“Everyone was right. I don’t deserve you.”

Now that got her mad. 

She began to walk over to him and stopped when she was in front of his kneeling body.

“What the hell are you talking about!?”

He looked up to see her.

“You don’t deserve me that’s bullshit and you know it. You are kind in your own way, you went against the biggest bastard in the school on your own and when you were right everyone else felt like an idiot! You changed for me even when I didn’t ask you to! I mean look at your grades! You make it a part of your day to be with me even if you had to do something else! You were their for me when I needed you! So to hell to what every one else says!”

She stopped to breath and felt a few tears break out.

Everyone thought she hadn’t noticed what he’s been doing. What they failed to notice was that he had changed her.

She was no longer the quiet girl everyone talked about. And she wasn’t the airhead they claimed her to be. He taught her that she was her own person and that she can be who ever the hell she wanted to be.   

And right now she wanted to be Ryuji’s girlfriend.

Ryuji looked up to see her and with that got the strength to get up and hug her.

“I don-”

Ann grabbed the sides fo his head and kissed him. And it was nice when it was returned.

“Shut up. You do.”

They both smiled.

“Now come on lets see if we can get a cab.”

She grabbed his hand and dragged him to the street. 

***Rooftop***

“Inari you perv.”

Futaba said as she and him , binoculars in hand, spying on the couple. 

Yusuke was making a new piece. He finished the one for Ryuji and now for his payment.

For Ryuji It was a portrait of those two in the park. Ryuji’s head on Ann’s lap under a tree. when the entire scene was anything but the picture.

Those two just wouldn’t stop moving.

The display of love before him. Was an unconditional sort. If only he could have heard them then this piece would have the emotions that the couple had felt.

This new piece was a man in tears throwing his heart out and a woman catching it and running to him with it, all the while the village just stares at the two. 

“I am anything but. Now to name this piece.”

“How about, “Young Love”?”

Yusuke began contemplating the name. To Futaba he looked like he was ignoring her.

“Hey Inari, I’m going to steal your food if you don’t answer!”

“Not a bad name.” 

He grabbed his lunch box before she could open it and gave Futaba a kiss on the head.

“Bye bye love.”

Futaba stood still for a couple of seconds, red all over face, watching his retreating figure.

“HEY GET BACK HERE!!!”

[thoughtsofanexcitedspacechild]

My (Un)Official Gf application

Hi! So...um...I’m lonely tonight. Thought I’d just go ahead and submit my gf application for anyone who sees it. 

The Basics:

Name: Hana Lee Zainea

Age: 17 (Still a minor y'all. Back off creeps)

Gender: Female

Height: 4′7.5 (yeah, yeah. I get it. I’m the little spoon.)

Weight: 125. I know it’s a bit heavy, but I’m working on it. I’ve cleaned up my diet entirely and work out almost every day now! We’re working towards 110 by spring.

Build: Curvy. (Hourglass figure? Not sure really) I’m not quite mid size either, but I’m working towards slimming down and building a more toned/muscular physique. Korra from lok is the end goal haha

Pronouns: She/her

Sexual preference: Bicurious? I’m not quite sure just yet, but right now specifically, I’m looking for a guy. I haven’t really come out yet and I’m not sure how my parents would react if I did. 

Enneagram type: Shifts between 6 on bad days and 9 on good ones

Meyers Briggs: INFJ (So rare, I know)

Zodiac Sign: I mean I’m catholic, so I don’t really believe in that sorta stuff, but uh, Libra if that makes any difference.

Reasons to date me: 

I’m small, so I’d always be the little spoon when cuddling. 

I LOVE making gifts and will NOT hesitate to send you letters in the mail, give you candy, make you drawings and handmade cards, and make you any kind of crochet/sewn stuffed animal ur heart desires. 

I do relatively good in school and can probably help you with homework judgement free. 

I’m an artist, so once you’re my so, there’s a good chance you'll be used as a photo reference for a piece. You might get a sick portrait out of this.

I’m laid back as heck and can pretty much vibe with whatever

I already made us matching bracelets. 

Available pretty much 24/7 to talk or at least text

I can cook pretty well and I personally think I thrive in a well stocked kitchen.

Reasons that you might not want to date me:

I’m waiting ‘til marriage. You don’t have to be a virgin at all, just know that you won’t get anything out of me until you put a ring on it and have seen me in a white dress walking down the isle. I just don’t want to give my body away to someone who isn’t willing to commit to me and my personality rather than just my body. We can cuddle, hug, kiss, etc but as soon as it gets dirty, it’s no. I’m sorry :(

I’m a bit clingy. I don’t mean to. I just get really excited about new people and want to spend time with them. 

I cry a lot. I’m a bit depressed and will sometimes cry for no reason. It’s not anything ur doing. I just need to cry.

I’m also anxious as HECK and sometimes it gets so bad that I’ll think I’m sick. I’m prone to intrusive thoughts and OCD too and will often worry excessively about if people actually like me or not. If you get a text that says “are you upset with me?” it’s not because u did anything to make me feel that way. I just do and if I’m not actually bugging you, just respond “not at all!” or something else consoling and I’ll be fine.

As far as looks go, I don’t have much to offer. I have huge brown eyes that I think are pretty, and I kinda like my small lips, but otherwise I’m not a stunner. I’m not super ugly, I just don’t look good unless I put effort into my appearance.

I have a CRIPPLING case of body dysmorphia. I avoid looking in mirrors a lot and often beat myself up for missing workouts even if I’m sore and could hurt myself/eating something mildly unhealthy, so that’s fun.

Things we can do together: 

Watch our favorite shows together. I like and will rotate between atla, the mandalorian, LoK, the office, the clone wars, and sw rebels, but we can watch pretty much anything together. I’m totally down for anything  and I’d love to get into more mainstream and conventional shows. I attach to shows pretty quickly and the night will mostly involve us wrapped in a blanket and me pointing at fictional couples (mostly Kataang and sukka) and going “hey babe look! It’s us!”

Cook together! If u don’t know how, that’s ok! I’ll teach you! We can cook your favorite together! My repertoire ranges anywhere from fried rice and spring rolls, to tacos, to pasta. 

Bake! Cookies, cake, whatever u want! My favorite are lava cakes that have an oozy chocolate center and lemon cakes with thick icing on them!

Work out together! Not sure what u like, but I really love yoga, and I’m trying to get into more light weight-high rep. stuff. Not full on bench press, but I’m working towards a heavier handheld weight. My goal by the end of 2021 is 20 pound weights, but we’ll see!

If you do art, we can create stuff together! If you don’t that’s ok too!

Go to all ur sporting events and kiss u before for good luck and afterwards for a job well done (even if u don’t win, you’re still my winner)

Road trips to Chicago! I live in MI, but I love going down there to spend the day. We can shop, go ice skating, go to the ghiradeli store and get ice cream, go to the art institute, go out to eat, etc. Then we can stay the night, have a nice breakfast in the morning, and drive back. 

While we’re in quarantine, write letters! I make mine look really nice. U don't have to at all, and I just like getting stuff in the mail!

Couples costumes for halloween! I have wayyyy to many ideas lol. Depending on what u like and what u look like, I can pretty much do whatever, but my top choice is Sokka and Suki from atla.

Coffee and study dates around exam time

Movie night with each other’s families. Once ur in my life, ur in my family’s too! Come over and we can make popcorn and play with my dog and u can meet my younger siblings! They’ll love u I promise!

My requirements: 

Be taller than me (I mean, it’s not that hard. I’m 4′7. I don’t think it’s too much to ask)

I get to be the little spoon. (Again, it makes more sense bc I’m really small. U can try to be the little spoon, but physically it makes more sense. 

U don’t need to remember any dates EXCEPT for my birthday, (October 12) and our anniversary. (Don’t know when that’ll be) I don’t need gifts, just a nice text or a hug and a kiss. 

Be 16 or older. Sorry youngsters. 

That’s literally it. That’s it.

A little warning/extra tip: My expectations are kinda “high” bc of fictional men, but honestly, if u pick up on their romantic gestures, it’s really not that hard to please me. Some examples of things u can do that’ll completely have me simping for u:

Hugs!

Kisses! (Especially when YOU initiate)

Holding me

bringing me a tea 

Stay loyal! I know I’m going to be. Like, for REAL. U got no competition

CONSENT. Again, I’m waiting til marriage, but still! I’ve never done this before, so if u touch me in a way that makes me uncomfortable, please respect my boundaries. I’ll respect urs too!

That’s literally it. That’s the application. 

[10boys]

MLQC : Oral (receving)

♡ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Gavin:

-Ugh ok so Gavin is 100% a giver

-He loves you more than life literally and theres nothing he wouldn’t do to show you.

-Naturally , hes a super bashful guy and gets a bit embarrassed when its time for he himself to be taken care of. He’s so used to being responsible for others that showing his vulnerability is something that took time, which you gladly gave him. You and Gavin have such a comfortable bond now he could do anything infront of you but ya know only things that make him look cool infront of you

-He came to your house superr late at night since after being on one of his week-long missons, still in uniform and smelling of “outside” to his airborn location

-after quick ilys and imys you offer him a shower to wined him down of his journeys

-The moment he stepped in and left you alone with your thoughts, they went wild

-His thick body fit into his uniform so well, his chest heaving from fatigue of his flight. His masculine smell filled your nose when you first embraced, the same one emanating from his steamy shower. Your thighs twiched as you imagined his body elongated and streached out to wash himself in the shower. His musclier arms reached above to rub the conditioner into his hair, the white bubbles dripping down his muscles coming together in the creases of his back. They’d dip into his V-line , as if showing your eyes where to go. Just as your were getting to the most delicious spot..

-“Babe..what are you looking at?”

-Actions speak louder than words......

-He layed beneath you on the bed as you kissed and sucked at his neck and ears. His fresh wet scent was tantalizing, his skin was soft and delicate beneath your fingertips. He held a tight grip on your waste, seemingly trying to keep you close as possible to him.

-Feeling your breast smothered onto his chest , nipples supply poking into his skin made the heat rush to his dick at an unbelievable speed

-Gavin has a very...active imagination. A small peak at your collar bones or the back of your lower thighs and he already has a saucy full-body image of you in his head. Saying something vaguely suggestive to him is the equivalent of your whimpers in his ear. You’ve ever wondered why those cheeks are always red?

-Plus the boys just super horny in general lol he always wants saucy times when hes with you. You don’t even have to ask and at the blink of an eye he’s shirtless ( he loves being shirtless for you ‘baby pls look at my hot bod pls love me the most’ )

-He poked you from beneath his navy boxers, hips slightly bucking into you as you continued to grope as suck at his neck and chest. His face flushed pink as his head started to cloud in his light waves of pleasure.

-As you began to kiss him lower, golden eyes poured into your own. He watched the way your lips connect and parted with his skin, leaving sheen pelts of spit his torso. Your tongue danced down his happy trail as you sucked light purple circles onto his lower abdomen.

-Gavin is a grunt and groner. He’s still shy, so he’ll be quiet at the beginning, but its hard to keep his cool when your figure is present to use at his leasure. Heavy breaths and pants will escape as he lets himself roam. His hands will never stay in the same spot when you’re around...They’ll start on your thighs, then to your waste, then your chest, then behind your head, then back to your chest, then to your ass, waist and chest, thighs and chest you get the idea

-Actually, most of the moans you hear from him are simply cause he failed at holding them in

-Btw Gavins v gentle with you but his ass grabs are superr hard. He probably just gets carried away at the sensation of it filling his palm but you usually still feel his grip long after he’s let go.

-He just wants to be everywhere, to take and claim all of you.

-You kiss and smell along his length, palming him over his briefs. The smell was so intoxicating you couldn’t help but clench your thighs, trying to create a heat of your own. You quickly disregard of his boxers revealing his beautiful fully erected cock. Pre-cum dribbes down as the cold hair hits his tip, or maybe cause the view of your face so close to his cock is just that hot.

“Mmm Babe stop looking” srry baby ur just so beautiful. Ofc you can’t look for long without him getting bashful.

-He has a large vein ranging from ball to tip and it feels amazing when you run your tongue across it. Like Victor, Gavin loves watching you play with it. Its almost too much for him to watch. Lick him all around with as much spit on your tongue as you can get, kiss his tip with his balls in your hand. And for the sake of our boy make alllll the dick-sucking noises too- They’re his favorite. He even trys to stay quiet to hear them better.

-You don’t tease Gavin as much as you do the others. Although he would take it for you, hes way too impatient. He’s got great stamina from his daily workouts and could fuck for years, but his first nut usually comes rather quickly. Like i said, it doesn’t take much to rile him up.

-A wet mouth and hollow cheeks get the job done for him. His grip in your hair is kinda massage like, he rakes along your scalp in un-rythmic patterns. In other words, he totally fucks up your hair everytime.

-In usual circumstances, your body is usually draped over him in the 69 position while you suck. Gavin absolutely, and i mean absolutely loves the smell of pussy. He is 100% a panty stealer. He loves to have your backside smothering his face as he thrusts up into your mouth. The smell is absolutely engulfing to him, he can’t help to suck at you from over your panties.

-But for sessions created just for catering to him, he likes to sit on the edge of the bed with your naked body quivering below him. He likes watching the liquids from your mouth dribbling off your chin to rest on your bouncing chest. But his favorite part is your legs spread wide for him exposing your opened heat. His tongue often peaks out in in-voluntarily licking motions before he can bite his lips. Your clit is his eye candy as he thrusts himself closer to his release.

-Typically lf hes layed across the bed he uses his forarm to hide his erotic faces from you he must not know how orgasmic you find them

-Gavins orgasims come on strong, erupting a deep growl from his throat as he shoots his loud into your mouth. His tense face softens , eyebrows rising showing his state of complete bliss. He stiffens, holding you down on him until his very last wave.

-Once he’s done, he releases his grip resulting in an erotic view of his white semen spilling out from your mouth, it drips down onto your breast piling up with the rest of your liquids. Your wattering eyes look up into his sending an intense blush across his cheeks

-If Gavin were in an anime he would be the boy with massive nose bleeds when he see’s you

-ooh no he’s horny again

-yes he will clean u up first

Kiro:

- Kiro is also a giver in theory

- Now dont get me wrong- this bright bubbly ball of sunshine loves to give his acts of service to you, but he is , very much so, a boy. He loves when you go down on him, he loves being the center of your attention and all your gestures.

-Kiros definitely a pint up boy- going from show to show and interview to interview, he barley has enough time to sleep let alone relive himself. When you two first got together, he was very modest and a bit shy to show his manly desires for you. He respects you for being such an important person in his life, having ungodly thoughts about you made him feel like a nasty boy. But as time passed and you escalated in your intamacy, he is absolutely shameless in letting you know what he wants or if he’s ‘in the mood~” “babee.. stop working..i wanna play~” “Those shorts look very good on you miss chips...so... short”

-Kiro doesnt talk much to let you know what he wants anyway, in fact, one glance into those ocean blue orbs and you know his intentions. He’ll act super cutesy at first, slowly inching his body closer to yours for ‘innocent cuddles’. Kiro is a very hands-on affectionate, so this part was normal. But soon his hands will start to wonder and grope while a devious smirk spreads across his face he knows you see him as a sweet little angel and he will play that role to his advantage

-He’ll nuzzle his head into your chest demanding you take notice to his actions like a freaking puppy, And once you lower your gaze to find his figure latched around yours, his seemly sensual orbs pour into you, sending you notice of his want for you. When kiro uses his cuteness to fight for dominance he will always win.Always. And you’re okay with that.

-Kiros not necessarily shy about his noises for you , especially after all the praises you’ve whispered to him about how good they sound. He’ll moan and whimper to you as your hands massage his length over his boxers, peppering kisses down his neck and across his chest. Your kisses feel like heaven to him, leaving small waves of heat at every peck and nibble left on him.

-With that said, when you start kissing and sucking at his lower abdomen , his mouth immediately hangs releasing a steady breathy moan for you. The view when you looked up at him was godly..

-Kiros pleasure face is absolutely erotic. His pleasure state in general is mouth watering. His eyes are dark and low, his face twists and contorts, he grabs at everything; His hair, the sheets, the pillows, you, anything that might fall into his grasp is being pulled and scratched at. As much as you would love to spend all your time planting kisses on his skin, you quickly relocate to different spots making sure not to leave any marks. Kiros shirt lifts a considerable amount of times from him jumping around on stage, so its better not to ruin any of his fans’ day by new-found knowledge of his intamacys. This service is for you but that is fan-service for them.

-Kiro loves being teased :)

-Blow your heat onto his head from over his boxers for a easy and quick way to wake up little kiro. Kiss him around the spots he wants you too, and make sure to keep eye contact. He gets super off from you watching him he just loves attention

-Please pay all attention to his balls. Lick them up and down for a while with his legs spread wide, nibble and suck at them. This will make his hips a thrusting mess as he trys to create more friction for himself.

-He’ll use his own hand to push his dick in your mouth, but first, he’ll watch as you lay there mouth wide and tongue hung for him. He’ll press his tip against your face, letting it roll over all your features. He lets out a soft giggle before letting the tip roll over your hot wet tongue. The wave immediately made his cock twich infront of you, a dribble of pre-cum leaking from his tip.

-Kiro is def a hand holder. Pls expect him to want your fingers interlocked to bring a loving gesture to your vile actions. He’s internally lovey-dovey during sex. Even if he’s not verbally spitting soft phrases at you, his mind is filled with fluffy thoughts of you “ahh.. so pretty” “she uses her mouth so good..” “she’s so lovely” “im so lucky” “..m-more there...ah...perfect” “i love her so much”

-Kiro nuts very well <3

- The boys orgasims...are mighty. His hip thrusts might get a little rough as his head fills with waves of pleasure, subconsciously bobbing your head down a little harder than intended. Short moans tumble over eatch other as his breath quickens considerably. He trys his hardest to keep his eyes open, the view of you teary-eyed engulfing his length is enough to finish him and it does .

- A few more deep sucks and his back arches, his body stiffens as waves of hypnotizing pleasure take him over. His moans were as pretty as his singing coming close, but as the shocks of heated kisses reminisce through his nerves , he sits silent, mouth hung open only to release small high-pitched gasps and a maybe dribble of drool.

-As he comes down from his high he’ll wipe your face and spit beautiful praises at you. He’s a fluff after sex so expect lots of mushy gushy cuddles and pillow talk <3

“Wow...that was the best one...”

“you said that the last time...and the time before...”

“Yeah !!! Until next time too~ !!”

-

Yayyy the continuation is done! Pls lmk what you think, and my ask is currently open ! Gavins is a bit short cause he’s my fav, so im a perfectionist in representing his image lol. Will add the links once im off work -Myk

[the-witch-of-plum-hollow]

Winter’s Chill, Summer’s Heat

pairing: Steve x OFC, kind of Bucky x OFC

Warning: Bucky is an absolute jackass, Swearing, body image issues.

word count: 8382

summary: Emma Carver is a mutant with the Avengers, crushing hard on Bucky but doesn’t see what’s right in front of her. Which is ironic, because he’s a pretty big dude. It starts with some angst but there’s some fluff in the end.

 For @morsmordrethings 1k writing challenge! (Go easy, I haven’t written in like a year.)

She lay on his bed, curled up and holding in her tears. She was sick of sobbing, sick of feeling the skin on her cheeks dry from the salt in her tears. Her dress crinkled with every movement, almost as a reminder of how foolish she felt.

           “Stupid,” Emma muttered under her breath, “you’re so stupid.”

Strong, warm arms curled around her again, holding her without comment. She could feel his breath on her shoulder, slow and calm. She closed her eyes again, willing sleep to come and take her away and let her pretend none of that evening, that day or even the last few months had happened.

                                   *****                          *****                          *****

           It had all started so well. Tony’s annual Holiday party was days away and she still hadn’t gone out looking for a dress. However, that morning, over breakfast Natasha snorted into her coffee and looked at her.

           “I love how you think I hadn’t picked something out for you a month ago.”

           “Yeah, I should’ve seen that coming, huh?” she started at Nat.

           “No shit,” Nat muttered, draining her cup.

Of course Nat not only knew her measurements but picked out an outfit that would most likely be fabulous. Last year’s 6-hour shopping fiasco was not to be repeated. (It’s not her fault that she hated shopping or that it was difficult to shop with Pepper AND Nat, two women who could wear potato sacks and look glamorous.)

           “I should pretend to be surprised, but I think we know I’m not. Can I try it on tonight?” Emma asked, pouring herself more coffee.

           “Absolutely not,” Natasha said, spinning around from where she had placed her cup in the sink, “you won’t know until the day of and that’s final. Trust me, you’ll love it.” She left the kitchen with a wink and headed down to the gym for her training.

           Emma looked over at Wanda, who shrugged and went back to her tea and toast. Steve was reading the morning paper next to Sam, who was on his phone and Bucky was at the table with a bowl of cereal. Ah, Bucky. Emma looked over at him and gave him a soft smile when he made eye contact, only to have it returned by a small, half smile. Well, ok then she thought to herself. They had danced around each other for months, almost a year. Flirting and stolen glances and one, furtive kiss 4 months ago in a storage room before Bucky had gone on a 2-month long mission and then nothing but light flirting since. Nothing got in the way of a budding romance like their job. She sighed and leaned her elbows on the island, both hands wrapped around her coffee.

           Steve looked up from his paper at her sign and watched Emma as she stared into space for a minute. He took in the curve or her jaw and the way her lips turned up just a bit at the corners and had the sudden urge to draw his perfect teammate. Sam nudged him when he stared just a little too long and he rolled his shoulders back just a bit, clearing his throat.

           “Got anything planned for today?” Steve asked her.

           “Not particularly,” she began, “flight training again at some point, and I need to wrap some presents. How about you?” She turned to Steve and straightened up, leaving her hips to push against the countertop.

           “Something similar, I suppose. Tony mentioned that he tweaked the calibration on the weight machines. Feel like seeing who can bench more again?”

           “Not again,” Sam groaned. Steve had found Emma Carver at a gym in Boston, conning pretty rich boys out of their trust fund money at weight-lifting contests. Thinking she was getting arrested, she shocked him even more when she literally flew off. Sam chased her down and 4 months later she was part of the team. After Tony bitched about having yet another super powered person in their midst, and after she and Steve broke two weight machines, he designed a set of machines specifically for Steve, Emma, and Bucky.

           Emma grinned and nodded before taking a sip of her coffee. Steve smiled back and looked over at the table.

           “Buck? You in?”

           “Don’t think it’d be fair,” he shrugged, lifting his left arm and flexing his metal fingers around, “but I’ll come down and spot the two of you anyway.”

           “Yeah Cap,” Emma giggled, “safety first!”

Sam smirked at Emma when Steve rolled his eyes.

           “Yeah, yeah,” Steve shook his head, “I’ll see you both down there in 30.”

He folded up his paper and got up, nodding at Emma as he walked away from the kitchen and headed back to his room to change. Sam got up behind him and mock saluted Emma, leaving the kitchen to the sound of her laughter. Wanda left soon after and Emma was left alone in the kitchen with Bucky. The silence was deafening.

           “So, Bucky,” Emma started, gripping her mug so he couldn’t see her hands tremble, “looking forward to Tony’s party this year?”

           “Not really,” he grumbled, “I hate these things. Too many people, and the music is too loud.”

           “Oh…” she replied. Emma leaned back on the counter, placed her mug down and propped her chin up with her right hand.

           “Got your suit yet?” she began again.

           “Yeah, Tony made sure we all had suits. Again.”

Emma blew at a piece of her hair that had fallen over her eyes and fell silent. She stood up and went to turn around when his voice stopped her.

           “Heard you didn’t have to pick out your dress this time.”

           She turned and smiled at him.

           “Nat was kind enough to relieve me of that torture, but I have no idea what it looks like. I don’t even know what my shoes look like, or how I need to do my hair,” she said with a roll of her eyes. She turned back to the counter and rinsed out her mug, never hearing Bucky come up behind her.

           “I’m sure you’ll look gorgeous, pretty girl” he murmured, his breath warm on her neck, making her gasp. His arms briefly caged her against the counter and his chest was lightly pressed against her back. She closed her eyes tilted her head slightly but before she could react further, he had placed his finished bowl in the sink and was walking back to his room. She could feel the loss of him immediately and let out a soft sigh, one he probably heard because of his damn super soldier ears. Emma sucked in a deep breath and steeled her shoulders. No better way to get rid of this frustration than to go lift a ridiculous amount of weight and sweat it out. Mainly because drinking was not really an option at 8am.

           By the time Emma headed down to the gym, Steve was there and warming up. Luckily, it wasn’t that full for a normal morning, but there were enough people in the gym that she didn’t know to make her rethink agreeing to this. Steve saw her clenching her hands and jogged over to ease her anxiety.

           “Hey, it’ll be fine,” he assured her, “Nat is just training some of the lab techs in hand to hand and Bucky & Sam will be with us. I think she’s almost down to just the one girl anyway, ok?” He knew how strangers put Emma on edge. She spent so long on her own, that even with her gifts, other people made her nervous. Plus, with her body type, she got self-conscious. She wasn’t slender like Pepper or petite like Natasha. It didn’t matter that she could throw a Fiat through a wall.

           Emma nodded to Steve and rolled her own shoulders back. He smiled and threw an arm around her shoulder, pulling her in and planting a kiss in her hair.

           “That’s my girl,” he grinned. Emma didn’t know what was more surprising, getting called Steve’s girl or the blush that chased the smile on her face. He quickly let go and walked her over to Natasha, where she was down to teaching a lone blonde on the mats across the room. She stopped what she was doing when they walked up, knowing that meeting her pupil would ease Emma’s mind.

           “Emma, this is Aimee,” Nat said, gesturing to the tall blonde across from her, “she’s one of the lab techs that they want trained in field work. You just missed Hakim, he’s the other one I’m training.”

           The two women smiled and exchanged pleasantries, shaking hands. Aimee grinned at Emma.

           “I’ve studied your blood before, you’re amazing” she gushed.

          “Thank…you?” Emma laughed.

           “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. That was so weird,” Aimee was beet red and slapped a hand over her face, “I work in the genetics department and I’m part of the team that works in conjunction with the med labs. I’ve analyzed your blood a few times. Your powers are amazing, you’re such an inspiration.”

           Emma blushed and looked at her in surprise, missing how Steve and Nat watched her with pride.

           “Wow, thank you,” Emma stuttered, “That is incredibly kind. I’m really not that special though. I was just born kind of weird and I learned how to make the best of it.”

Steve rolled his eyes at her.

           “Ok, well let’s get back to the weights. Don’t want to leave Sam and Bucky waiting.”

Emma nodded and walked back over to the weights near Sam, where he was prepping to help her warmup.

           “Bucky Barnes? Like the former Winter Soldier?” Aimee perked up.

           “Yeah, he’s over there near Sam,” Nat pointed, “Why, wanna gush about his blood too?”

           “Oh no,” Aimee blushed, “I just think he’s really handsome.”

           “Yeah, yeah, he’s great,” Steve muttered, “I’ll let you get back to your workout. Nat, Aimee.”

           2 hours later Aimee was long gone but Tony, Nat, Thor, and Clint had joined Sam and Bucky to watch Emma and Steve lift increasingly ridiculous amount of weight. Wanda had even wandered in at one point but left to get ready for a lunch date with Vision.

Emma and Steve had decided that the bench press was going to be the decided factor. Both were currently getting ready for their maximum weight yet; 2100 lbs. Thor stood ready to spot Emma and Bucky was behind Steve.

           “Whenever you’re ready, kids,” Tony reminded the pair. Emma smirked at Tony and, wiping the small amount of sweat on her brow she repositioned herself under the weight and took a deep breath. She looked over at Steve and nodded. Moving carefully, they both lifted their weights and set them back down once. Then twice. Then again.

           “holy shit,” Clint muttered.

Emma looked over to Steve after the 5th rep and neither one looked like they were ready to stop but Emma was getting a bit hungry. Her stomach growling was fucking with her concentration.

           “Tie?” she grinned at him.

           “Tie,” he grinned back, scooting out from under the bar and sitting up. Emma stood and held her hand out to shake his as the team clapped around them, Thor slapping a massive hand across her back while Clint whistled.

           “Well done, Emma!” he bellowed.

 She laughed and gave Steve a limp high-five as they both congratulated the other.

           “Ok guys, that was fun and all, but I’d like to go eat a whole deli and then sleep,” Emma cut through the group, “Maybe shower first.”

           “Shower, then meet in the common room. I’ve got a deli coming in,” Tony smirked at her.

           “Tones, I’d hug you but I’m gross,” Emma smiled at him, “See you guys in like 20 minutes!” She and Steve headed toward the doors leading for their showers, joking about using cars next time. Clint wasn’t far behind them, heading for the other showers, debating with Thor whether or not Emma’s powers have a cap on them. The rest of the group filtered out, leaving Sam with Bucky.

           “So, Buck,” Sam began, “Are you asking Emma to Tony’s party or not?”

           “What?!” Bucky whirled around to face him, “Why would you ask that?”

           “Come on man, we all see it,” Sam chided him, “looking at her when she thinks you’re not, the flirting. I even know about the kiss.”

           “The kiss never should’ve happened,” Bucky mumbled.

           “Wait, what?”

           “It never should’ve happened. Come on man. Look at her. Look at me. I don’t belong with someone like her.”

           “Buck, man, I thought we had gotten past all this self-loathing bullshit,” Sam started.

           “I am past it. This is reality. She’s not the right girl for me. I thought she was but she’s not. I’d drag her down. I thought maybe if I kept trying, things could work but I’m just kidding myself. I can’t give her what she deserves.”

           “Ok man,” Sam sighed, “then you had better let her down easy. And soon. That girl is gonna fall for you whether you like it or not.”

           “She’s in love with me?” Bucky looked to where you had headed, worry etched across his face.

           “Not yet, man. But Emma shows all her emotions, that’s how she is. And you had better fix this quick before it hurts more than it needs to.”

 The next couple of days flew by with training and meetings. Everyone was kept busy with one thing or another and Emma barely saw Bucky. She was fairly sure he wasn’t avoiding him, but she couldn’t be certain. She was just as busy as everyone else.  Before they knew, it was the day of Tony’s famous (or infamous) Holiday Party. Nat had given Emma enough information about her dress and outfit to get her prep done and that was it. So, at noon, she showed up at Natasha’s door, freshly showered and ready for…whatever Nat had planned for her.

           “Hello, little doll,” Nat grinned wickedly at Emma as she opened the door, “are you ready?”

           “I mean, I was before you answered the door like Vincent Price,” Emma muttered, letting herself get ushered into the suite. Nat just laughed and shut the door behind her.

           “It’s going to be fine, darling,” Wanda called from the bedroom, “I will handle your hair and makeup. You are going to look lovely tonight.”

           “I don’t want to seem ungrateful about all of this,” Emma began, “and I know we usually get ready together for these things, but why are you two doing all of this for me? Why is this party so special?”

           Natasha and Wanda exchanged a look. Wanda gestured to Nat to say something.

           “Honey,” Nat grabbed Emma’s hands, “everyone in this damn place as seen how you and Bucky have looked at each other over the last handful of months. We’ve also seen how he still hasn’t pulled the trigger.”

           “Awesome. So not embarrassing at all,” Emma grumbled.

           “Sweetie, we think that maybe you should be the one to make a move,” Wanda stepped over, “Maybe not say something directly, but at least make him understand what you want. What better time to do that than at Tony’s party? You can look like a dream and show him another side of you.”

           Emma tilted her head and considered what they were saying. They made solid points, but she was looking forward to hanging out with everyone this year.

           “Alright, deal. Let’s get me dolled up,” Emma agreed, laughing at Wanda’s small squeal and Nat’s smug face.

           A few hours later, Wanda was putting the finishing touches on Emma’s hair when she looked down at her and noticed the crease between her eyes.

           “Emma?” she crouched down in front of her, “Darling, what is wrong?”

           “What if this doesn’t work out?” she whispered.

           “You mean, what if Bucky is a lot more of an idiot that I had realized and rejects you?” Nat asked, peering out at you from the bathroom door. You just nodded slightly, mouth in a tight line.

           “Then we stay together, drink, and then I use you as a way to finally get Steve out on the dance floor,” Nat grinned. You and Wanda laughed at that, setting your mind at ease. You should’ve known Nat had a backup plan if things went awry.

           You were distracted once again by Wanda, gently taking your face in her hands and turning it to her.

           “Natasha, I believe I am finished,” Wanda smiled and took a few steps back, her smile spreading when Nat walked over and linked her arm through hers.

           “Perfect,” Nat agreed, “go ahead.” She motioned for Emma to head over to the mirror.

            Emma walked over and gasped. Wanda had given her the perfect look. Slight cat eye, contoured cheeks and a beautiful red lip that complimented her skin perfectly.

           “Wanda,” Emma said softly, “this is…. Honey, you’ve out-done yourself.”

Wanda beamed and looked over to Nat.

           “I believe it’s your turn.”

Nat grinned and spun on her heel, making a beeline for her closet. Emma held her hands hovering over her eyes in anticipation while Nat rummaged around for the shoes.

           “Ok, my little doll, are you ready?”

           “As I’ll ever be!” Emma replied and Wanda giggled.

           “Open your eyes, darling,” Wanda whispered in her ear.

Emma lowered her hand and was at a loss for words. Natasha held up a deep green taffeta dress that was somehow modern and classic Dior all in one. The sweetheart neckline draped into an off-the-shoulder look and the hem flared out to about tea length on Emma. She was thrilled. It was the perfect dress and paired with the matching kitten heels in Nat’s other hand Emma was actually giddy.

           “Oh girls, I don’t even know what to say,” Emma walked over and gently ran her fingertips over the skirt of the dress, “it’s amazing. Where did you find this? I’ll need to run back to my room really quick though, I’m definitely not wearing the right bra for that!”

           “Don’t tell anyone but I enjoy vintage shops. This was an easy find and I had it altered for you. Plus, look! I had them add pockets!” Nat showed her.

           The girls laughed and Emma laughed even harder when she turned around to find Wanda already holding up the corset style bra she needed. They absolutely though of everything.

             In the ballroom, Steve and Sam were by the bar taking advantage of Tony’s excellent taste in liquor. Sam was getting increasingly agitated. He knew Bucky hadn’t spoken to Emma since the weight-lifting incident and he also knew Bucky was just dumb enough to say something during the party. The more he thought about the more he worried. That’s it, Wilson, you’ve gotta say something.

           “Hey, Steve, you got a minute?”

           “Sure Sam, what’s…. wow. Oh my god.”

Sam looked up to see Steve completely taken by whatever was over his shoulder. He turned around and smiled. Nat, Emma, and Wanda had made their entrance, but unbeknownst to Emma, Nat and Wanda had drifted off to the sides, giving her a cheesy movie star entrance. Emma stood at the doorway, in her holiday green dress and hair half up and softly curled over one shoulder. Sam looked back to Steve, who was still gazing at Emma with a soft smile slowly appearing on his face. That can be either really good or really bad, Sam thought.

           “Think he’s seen Emma yet?” Sam nudged him.

           “Think whose seen Emma yet?” Steve replied absentmindedly.

           “Bucky. Do you think he has seen Emma. I haven’t even seen him in here,” Sam prodded.

           “Oh, um…no. I haven’t seen him yet either. He said he’d meet us here though,” Steve coughed and turned to face the bar. Sam looked at him and smirked.

           “You should ask her to dance, man,” he suggested.

           “Who? Emma? No, I’m not…. she’s not…There’s no…” Steve sputtered.

           “Real smooth, Cap,” Sam nodded, “Get it together though, she’s headed this way.”

Emma walked up to Sam slapping Steve on the back as he coughed.

           “Steve! Are you ok?” Emma hurried over, the click of her heels speeding up.

           “Yeah, fine, bourbon down the wrong pipe is all,” he choked out, red faced. Emma looked over to Sam, who nodded, holding in a laugh.

           “Ok, you had me worried there,” she smiled, “I thought we were gonna break the streak of nobody dying at one of Tony’s parties or something.”

           “No, we’re safe,” he coughed again and straightened up.

           “You look gorgeous, by the way,” Sam told her.

           “Thanks, Sam,” she blushed a bit, “Nat and Wanda handled everything. I just showed up.”

           “Yeah, but you are wearing the hell out of that dress,” he grinned at her, taking her hand and giving her a twirl. Her skirt flared out around her and swirled around her legs. Steve watched as Emma laughed and spun around. She looked like something out of his dreams. He waited until Sam was done with her to say something.

           “You look stunning, Emma,” Steve said softly, smile growing as she blushed once again.

           “Thanks, Steve,” she replied, “I guess I clean up pretty good, huh?”

           “Better than good,” he grinned, “you look like a pinup.”

           “Please, if you think this is good, you should see the getup I’ve got on underneath all this just to hold everything together,” Emma shot back and immediately slapped a hand over her mouth. Sam burst into laughter as it was now Steve’s turn to blush.

           “Sorry!” she squeaked, “I’m sorry, I’m nervous and I may look good but I’m still the same idiot underneath. Just don’t let me accidentally break anything like last year.”

           “It’s fine, Em, don’t worry. Now, go mingle. Don’t stand over here the whole night,” Sam nudged her on, “I mean, I’m fine as hell but nobody is saying anything about Steve.”

Emma laughed and gave them both a quick peck on the cheek before she walked off in search of her other teammates. Sam looked over at Steve and picked up his drink from the bar again.

           “Something you’d like to share with the class, Cap?” he asked his friend.

           “Not really, no,” Steve answered, watching Emma weave her way through the crowd, “you were right though.”

           “I usually am. What about this time though?” Sam asked over the rim of his glass.

           “I should’ve asked her to dance.”

          Emma flitted from group to group, saying hello to a few SHIELD agents she knew and a handful of the medical personnel she had met. She even ran into Aimee and met her girlfriend, a quiet girl from HR named Rosa. She gave Tony and Pepper a quick hug and got a chance to chat for a minute with Bruce. She must have been there for an hour, moving all around the room and there was no sign of Bucky. Emma was getting a little frustrated but decided not to let that get to her. Snatching a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, she sauntered over to where she saw Clint and Nat at the other end of the bar from where Steve and Sam had been.

           “Ladies,” she drawled as she slid over next to them, “How are we tonight?”

           “Look at this fancy lady right here!” Clint exclaimed.

Emma and at laughed at Clint’s exaggerated wolf whistle and googly eye.

           “Aww, Mr. Barton, you just know how to make a girl feel real swell,” Emma twittered, making him laugh into his beer.

           “How’s the night so far Em?” Nat asked, raising an eyebrow.

           “Silent. Target definitely not acquired,” she grumbled.

           “Well that’s bullshit,” Nat retorted, “He’s got to be here somewhere.”

           “Girls,” Clint broke in, “target fucking acquired.”

Emma and Nat followed his pointing finger over to the windows, where Bucky was standing alone, nursing a drink. Emma’s jaw dropped a little as his head turned to the side and she got a good look at his jawline. His hair was pulled back at the base of his neck and his tux was deep gray with black accents. Emma was a bit speechless, but she squared her shoulders and glanced at Nat.

           “Now or never,” she told her. To her surprise, Nat linked arms with her and steered them toward Bucky.

           “Did you think I was going to let you go alone?” she asked her, “I’ve got you.”

The pair headed toward Barnes, unaware at how many people were watching the interaction. Most of the team wanted to see how this would go down.

Bucky glanced up when he realized someone was headed his way and relaxed a fraction when he realized it was only Nat and Emma. The pair looked like the embodiment of Christmas with Nat in her slinky red velvet and Emma in her shimmering green taffeta. Bucky gripped his glass a little tighter when he realized exactly what type of dress Emma had on.

           “Hey Barnes, having a good night?” Nat asked him in her smokey voice. She snuck a look at Emma, who had tried to make her face as calm as possible.

           “It’s a night” he said through clenched teeth. Nat furrowed her brow in the slightest.

           “Barnes?” she asked. He just stared at the floor, gripping his drink.

           “Bucky?” Emma asked, stepping forward. She laid a hand on his arm only to have him jerk it away.

           “Is this some kind of joke?” he hissed.

           “What? I- “Emma stuttered.

           “Is. This. A. Joke.” he ground out.

           “Barnes, what the fuck is your problem?” Nat snapped at him.

           “Do you think it’s funny to taunt me? Dressing like that, in a style I’ll never see in person again. Is that entertaining to you?”

Emma took a step back, stunned while Nat took one forward. Steve had heard Bucky over the crowd and had started to make his way to them, Sam following. Even Clint and Wanda were edging closer.

           “Bucky, that’s not at all what this was,” Emma tried to assure him.

           “Bullshit,” he spat out, “You’ve got this trumped up idea of me in your head and you’re trying to live out some fucking fantasy with a me that doesn’t even exist anymore.”

           “Bucky, what- “

           “Get it through your goddamn head, doll,” he sneered, “I’m not that Bucky Barnes. I will never be him again. We will never live out your little domestic fantasy where Emma and Bucky live happily ever after. I don’t want anyone, I don’t need anyone, especially not you. Move on already. Thought you would’ve got the hint by now.”

Emma knew she wasn’t going to be able to keep the tears from falling. She had always kept her heart firmly on her sleeve, but she’d be damned if she let him get in another dig.

           “Fuck you, James Buchanan Barnes,” she said quietly, making Bucky’s blood run a little cold. She didn’t yell. She just took a step closer to him and dropped her voice.

           “Fuck you. I never wanted you to be that Bucky. I never asked anything from you. Not once. But you can get off your high horse right now, because I don’t recall ever saying that I was in love with you, you arrogant prick,” she took a breath as her voice caught “ and you should count your lucky stars that I don’t toss your dumbass out the window right now because we both know damn well I could. And I’m pretty sure only one of us can fly, James.”

           Emma looked into his eyes one more time, so he could see the tears and hurt on her face before she turned on one heel and headed back to the bar where Pepper was waiting with a drink. Natasha gave Bucky one more look before she followed Emma and Steve just watched her go. Sam strode over to Bucky and grabbed his arm, yanking him in close.

           “I told you to let her down easy, not break her goddamn heart,” he seethed.

           “It had to be done,” Bucky looked at him, “she can’t think there’s a chance. Not ever.”

Sam scoffed and pushed him away, giving him one more look of disgust before walking to find Emma. Steve walked over to his best friend, setting a hand on his shoulder.

           “Buck,” Steve began, “what was all that?”

           “Leave it, Steve,” Bucky spat out, slamming the rest of his drink and walking away, losing himself in the crowd. Steve watched him walk away, baffled. He started to follow him when he got a glimpse of Emma at the bar with Pepper, Sam, and Tony. His chest tightened like a fist around his heart when he realized she was crying. Before he knew it, he had walked halfway over to her.

           Emma downed the three fingers of scotch Pepper had ready for her, relishing the burn. She had heard the raised voices and just knew what would be needed, because she was Pepper Potts. Emma placed the glass down harder than she meant to on the bar, cracking the glass.

           “Sorry Tony,” she sighed, “I’ll get you a new set.”

           “Don’t worry about it honey,” Pepper reassured her, “It isn’t that important. You are.”

Emma smiled weakly at her and sighed. This was not how she had hoped her night would go, but this even went past her worst-case scenario.

           “I guess I completely underestimated what an absolute asshat Bucky Barnes could be,” she sniffled. Nat appeared at her side, seeing red.

           “Want me to kill him?” she crooned at her friend. Emma just gave her a watery smile and motioned for the bartender to give her another drink.

           “How many people heard?” she asked.

           “Well….” Nat began.

           “The team, basically,” Clint answered, popping up by Tony, “some lab techs, that weird security guard that smells like peppers, a gaggle of models and a few randos, Ow!” Nat had clipped him in the head.

           “Cool, cool,” Emma mumbled, “Hey Tony, can you see if Fury has any openings in like, Antarctica? Anywhere he can use someone with super strength that can fly and is also an absolute dumbass?”

           “You’re not going anywhere, kiddo,” Tony reassured her, “And you’re not a dumbass. Literally nobody saw that coming. I don’t know what his problem is, but you did nothing wrong.”

           “I agree,” came a deep voice behind Emma. She turned to see Steve, standing a few feet away and looking very sheepish.

           “I’m so sorry, Emma, for what he said,” he murmured, “I don’t know where any of it came from. You light up the entire room and any other guy here would be honored to have you on their arm.”

He relaxed a bit when Emma smiled up at him.

           “Thank you for that Steve, but you don’t need to apologize for Bucky. You’re not his keeper.”

           “I know that, I do,” Steve sighed, “Just, please don’t let his words ruin your night.”

Emma smiled and took one of Steve’s hands in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. Nat smiled at Steve and looked back to Emma.

           “Honey, remember the back up plan?” Nat said, laughing when Emma barked out a small laugh.

           “I don’t think the whole plan is going to go the way you want,” Emma replied.

Nat just smiled at her. Emma turned back to the bar and leaned into Pepper, not noticing Steve and Nat having a very quiet whispered argument behind them. Tony didn’t miss a thing and was highly amused when it appeared Cap lost the argument and Nat just grinned, smug smile and all. She stalked off to find the DJ. Steve looked back over to Emma to find her laughing again, courtesy of Sam and his incessant, harmless flirting.

           “Feeling a little better sweetheart?” Steve asked, placing his hand on her lower back.

           “You know, I kind of am,” she answered, “it still hurts that he even thought that about me and I’ll probably cry about it tomorrow, but he can’t ruin tonight any more than he already has, right?”

           “No, I don’t see how he could,” Steve admitted, “but I’d like to try and make it a little bit better.” He held out a hand as a slower song began to play. Emma bit back a smile and placed her hand in his, letting him lead her to the dance floor. Pepper and Tony followed while Sam leaned on the bar next to Nat.

           “Did your night go as planned?” he asked her.

           “Somewhat,” she replied, “I did not expect that reaction from Barnes, but it’s nice to see it end on a better note.”

           “How long have you known he has a thing for her?” he prodded.

           “Who, our fearless leader? Long enough to do something about it,” she smugly replied. They both turned to look out at the dance floor just in time to see Steve spin Emma out and turn her back into his arms.

           “They do look good together,” Sam murmured. Nat hummed in reply. Their peace was broken, however, by Wanda and Clint rushing toward them. The anxiety was coming off Wanda in waves. Nat and Sam looked at each other and headed toward them.

           “What’s going on?” Sam asked Clint.

           “Get Emma on to the balcony or somewhere else less central, NOW,” he pushed, motioning for the team to do something.

           “She can’t see it; you have to move her!” Wanda looked to Nat. Nat looked at her friend, crease in her brows.

           “Can’t see what?” Nat asked.

           “Too late,” Clint interrupted, looking to the dance floor. Emma stood, frozen next to Steve, both looking off the dance floor over toward the tables in the corner. There, in a chair was Bucky, heavily making out with a tall, curvy blonde model on his lap that had come with somebody’s entourage. Nat quickly looked back to Emma, who hadn’t moved. Nat met Steve’s eye and he nodded, taking a few steps closer to Emma, murmuring something softly to her. Her eyes narrowed and she took a few steps toward him, fists balling and muscles cording in her arms only to stop short, the color draining from her face.

           Emma felt her stomach drop at the sound of Bucky’s voice. He was speaking soft, sweet words into that woman’s ear.

           “So soft, baby,” he whispered between kisses, “You’re so soft. Like a real woman. Look at these curves.” He was running his hands all over her while Emma was frozen in place.

           “James,” the blonde giggled, “you’re so sweet.”

          Emma was rooted to the spot until the giggle shocked her out of the fog. Narrowing her eyes at Bucky, she whipped around and stalked back to Steve. Honestly, she was more pissed off at crying again, but this time it cut her to the core. Steve met her halfway and wrapped her in his arms, holding her tight and leading her away from Bucky. He’d deal with his friend later, right now Emma needed him.

           “I’m going to kill him,” Nat snarled.

           “Get in line,” Sam growled.

          Clint watched, silent. Sam and Nat moved to follow Steve as he steered Emma toward the doors, but Clint stood like a sentry with Wanda behind him and watched Bucky. They watched him until Bucky stopped kissing the blonde and they watched Bucky as he spoke to her softly and helped her off his lap. They watched as Bucky walked over to the balcony doors and went outside. Clint turned to Wanda and nodded, heading to find Nat. Wanda went off toward Bucky.

           Emma and Steve were far enough away that he could slow down, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. Emma was quiet and Steve’s heart was breaking with every silent tear that dropped from her eyes.

          She was lost in her own thoughts. It was as if he knew exactly what to say to hurt her the most. Like he knew, deep down, what she hated most about herself. He knew, no matter what she said differently that sometimes she hated how muscular her arms and shoulders were. That even though she had curves and was feminine, they were harder than other women. That her legs were solid muscle. That her shoulders were broader than Wanda’s or Pepper’s. Sometimes she’d forget that she could fly and lift a truck overhead and that she was a goddamn Avenger. She was back to being that 15-year-old girl in High School that didn’t fit in. She spent all that time learning to love who she was and love her life, and for what? To have a handful of words from a boy tear it all down again.

Emma wasn’t even sure who she was leaning on any more or where they were taking her, all she could feel was the ice in her stomach. She ran her fingers over her stomach and remembered the dress she was wearing and suddenly she not only felt sick again, she felt foolish. He made a fool of her in front of her friends and strangers. She spent all that time getting ready with the girls, laughing and smiling, getting excited over a dress only to have it come crashing down over her head. Emma choked back a sob and let her legs give out for a minute.

Steve just lifted her up bridal style when he felt her legs give out and held her close, getting through to the elevators.  

“It’s ok Emma, I’ve got you. Just stay with me, ok?”

Emma nodded and looked up at Steve, finally registering who she was with. She was grateful it was Steve and not Natasha. As much as she loved her friend, she didn’t need to vent or answer questions right now. She just needed silence and the chance to regroup and Steve would give her that.

           “Do you want to go back to your room or do you just want to get away from everyone as quick as possible?” Steve murmured in her ear.

           “Away, quickly,” she whispered. Steve nodded and turned the corner, leading Emma into his suite, much closer than hers was. He shut the door behind them after he set her down and asked Friday to lock his door, not to let anyone in without Emma’s or his verbal authorization.

           Once Emma realized they were alone, and away from the crowd she broke down. She gripped Steve’s arms as she fell to her knees, him sliding down with her while sobs wracked her body. She felt foolish because of Bucky, foolish over how she looked, and foolish that she was crying this much but when someone does something specifically to hurt you twice in one night, it’s bound to sting.

           Steve knelt on the floor of his living room with one arm around Emma and the other cradling her head to his chest.

           “Shh, sweetheart, it’ll be alright,” he crooned to her, “I’m here, I’m not leaving you. It’ll be alright.”

           They sat there on his floor for the better part of an hour before Emma turned her head to look at Steve.

           “Thank you,” she croaked.

           “You never have to thank me for something like this,” Steve assured her, “I’ll always be here when you need me.”

Emma smiled at him and rested her forehead on his chest for a minute.

           “Steve?” she whispered.

           “Yes Emma?”

           “Can I lay down somewhere?”

Steve stood up slowly, helping Emma up. He waited until she was steady on her feet before he scooped her up bridal style again and carried her to his bedroom. His heartbeat just a bit faster when her arms went around his neck and she curled into him, so he tightened his hold, just a little.

Emma felt Steve tighten his grip on her. She gripped him just as tightly, knowing he would keep her safe. Once they got to his room, he softly laid her down on the bed and then sat at her feet, watching her curl in on herself.

           “Emma,” he spoke softly, “I’ll be right out here, ok? I won’t leave the apartment.”

The silence in the room broke his heart for her yet again, because it was killing him to see the strongest woman he knows reduced to tears because of the words of his idiot best friend. Steve stood, and turned toward the door.

           “Wait.”

He turned back to her, seeing her pleading eyes look up at him.

           “Will you stay with me for a while?”

           “I’ll stay as long as you need me,” he replied. Steve crossed the room and climbed into his bed behind Emma. She half turned and grabbed his hand, weaving her fingers with his and wrapping his arm around her. She listened to Steve’s calm breathing and he listened to her berate herself for being the way she was.

And so Emma lay on his bed, curled up and holding in her tears. She was sick of sobbing, sick of feeling the skin on her cheeks dry from the salt in her tears. Her dress crinkled with every movement, almost as a reminder of how foolish she felt.

           “Stupid,” Emma muttered under her breath, “you’re so stupid.”

Strong, warm arms curled around her again, holding her without comment. She could feel his breath on her shoulder, slow and calm.

           Sleep finally came, heavy and swift and blessing her with a dreamless night. Emma woke the next morning to sunlight streaming in the windows and rolled over, only to find Steve still in the bed with her, loosely holding her hand. He must have gotten up at some point, because her phone was on his nightstand, plugged into a charger and he was only in his suit pants and dress shirt. She remembered it falling from her pocket in his living room, but she just didn’t care at the time. Emma sat up, looking down and realizing she was still in her party dress. Sighing again she glanced over at Steve only to realize he was awake.

           “Hi,” she said softly.

           “Hi,” he replied, “Are you alright?”

           “Yes?” She answered, “I mean, I’ll be alright. That was just a lot to handle at once, in one night.”

Steve hummed in agreement and lifted himself up on his elbows.

           “Natasha dropped off pajamas and clothes for you last night, if you want to shower here. She wasn’t sure what you would feel like doing today. We can always have Friday help sneak you back to your room if you don’t want to…people.”

           “I can shower here,” Emma smiled, “and no peopling sounds nice. Could we just hang here, like we did after the mission in Scotland?”

           “Absolutely,” Steve sat up, “you get in the shower and I’ll start on breakfast. No wait, we ordered everything the whole day then, didn’t we?”

           Emma smiled, remembering how much they ate and how little they did.

           “Yes we did, but you don’t have to order coffee this time. It was cold by the time it got here, and your coffee maker is much better now,” she volunteered. Emma stood up off the bed and stretched and Steve couldn’t help but stare at the way her muscles moved in her back. It took all he had not to walk over and place his lips on her shoulders. He wanted to kiss her pain away, but this was no where near the right time. Emma smiled at him over her shoulder and headed to his bathroom.

           “Clothes will be on the bed!” he called as he walked out. He heard a faint “thank you!” from his bathroom just before he shut the door. He grabbed the stuff from Nat out of his living room and after dropping it off his bed & grabbing a quick change of clothes for himself, he walked back out to the living room to order the food.

           Minutes after the order was placed and Emma was still in the shower, Steve had a soft knock on his door.

           “Captain Rogers, Mr. Wilson is requesting entry,” Friday chimed.

           “Let him in, Friday,” Steve replied. Sam walked right in as soon as the lock disengaged.

           “How is she?”

           “She’s in the shower. She slept the whole night and woke up in a better mood than I thought she would. I think we’re going to hole up here all day,” Steve answered.

           “Good, she needs that. Nothing coming down the pipe, but I’ll try and see if I can divert any mission where you two aren’t a necessity for the next few days.”

           “Thanks, Sam. Heard from Buck?” Steve asked.

           “I haven’t but Wanda spoke to him and then went to her room pretty upset last night. And then Nat ripped him a new one this morning over coffee. Surprised you didn’t hear it.”

           “I soundproofed the room during that particular argument, Captain Rogers. I didn’t want to cause Miss Carver any further stress,” Friday chimed.

           “Thanks Friday,” Steve answered, “Was it bad, Sam?”

           “He just sat there and took it. Didn’t argue, just stared at the counter in front of him and then went to the gym as soon as she finished,” Sam noted.

           “Alright,” Steve mused, “keep an eye on him. That seems odd and I don’t want him backsliding. Ask Clint to keep an eye on her and you should check on Wanda.”

           “Think he said something to her too?”

           “I honestly don’t know anymore, but you know how much of an empath she can be. Somebody should check on her so she isn’t beating herself up about any of this. She helped Emma get ready, she’s probably trying to take some of the blame, not that there is any to begin with.”

           “Got it, I’ll check in later,” Sam gave Steve a quick nod and left the apartment.

Not long after, Steve was setting out the breakfast order on his table and waiting for the coffee to finish brewing when Emma walked out of his bedroom in her sushi-print leggings and her favorite shirt. Steve groaned when he saw it.

           “Really, that’s the shirt Nat dropped off?”

           “Of course she did! It’s my favorite shirt!” Emma grinned, looking down at the giant red white and blue popsicle on her shirt, holding a shield exactly like Steve’s. The word ‘Capsicle’ was written across the bottom in a script font.

           “Of course it is,” Steve grumbled. He looked back over to her to see the smile start to slip, just a bit.

           “Hey, sweetheart, come here,” he stood and held his arms out. Emma walked over and buried her face in his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist.

           “This sucks, Steve,” she mumbled into his shirt.

           “I know, honey, I know,” he replied. They stood like that for a minute until the rumble from Emma’s stomach got too loud and they both laughed. They gathered their food and headed over his couch and sat down.

           “Plan for today?” she asked Steve.

           “Eat and do nothing,” he replied.

           “Perfect,” she nodded, turning on the TV.

          After a long discussion where Emma seriously mentioned transferring somewhere else and Steve rejected that idea multiple times, they decided to utilize Friday so Emma could avoid Bucky for a while. Steve convinced her not to run from the whole situation, but he agreed that confronting it right away would do more damage than not. Emma ended up sleeping in Steve’s bed again that night, it was just easier. He didn’t complain and was happy to just wake up holding her hand again. Emma ended up sleeping in Steve’s bed so often that she kept a spare toothbrush in his bathroom. She felt safe there, waking up next to him, knowing he was there in the middle of the night. It made her start to wonder if her idea of what love was had been wrong all along.

*****                          *****                          *****                          

           Wanda and Sam sat in the café, both nursing a latte. Sam mulled over what Wanda had told him and what she had picked up.

           “You’re sure?” he asked.

           “I am certain. Bucky didn’t mean any of the things he said, for the most part. He twisted the meanings so it was truth but not truth. He thinks Emma deserves better than him and she should not be ‘stuck’ with his problems.”

Sam sipped his coffee and looked over at Wanda.

           “And what did you feel? I know you pick up things occasionally, if we’re broadcasting loud enough.”

           “He believes it, he was telling the truth. But I do not think he felt a deep, true love for our Emma. He cares for her, but he was afraid for it to progress further, for either of them. He pushes love away because he believes he will destroy it.”

           “Jesus,” Sam muttered.

*****                          *****                          *****                          

          It was slow going, but eventually everyone could be in the same room at the same time without Steve wondering if Emma was gonna make good on that threat to launch Bucky through a window. Things were slowly back to normal and Emma had her spark back. She challenged Steve to weight-lifting contests, she flew around with Tony and Sam. She even began to speak to Bucky again, if only to be civil. Emma felt like she was herself again and couldn’t be happier until Steve knocked on her door one Thursday afternoon.

         “Steve, Hi! I was just thinking about you,” Emma smiled.

         “Emma I- wait, you were?” he stuttered.

         “Yeah! I found a documentary you might like, and I was going to have Friday add it to your queue.”

         “Thanks, Emma, that’s really thoughtful,” Steve blushed a little and smiled.

         “What’s going on though, do you need me for something?” she asked.

          “Well, yes actually, I do,” he took a deep breath, ok Rogers, you can do this. You’ve punched Hitler in the face over 200 times.

           “Emma Carver, can I take you out to dinner?”

           “I would absolutely love that,” she beamed.

           “Oh, thank god because then this next part would be really awkward,” Steve grinned.

           “What partmmph!” Emma cut off as Steve leaned in and kissed her. She smiled against his lips and just knew, this was it. Everything was going to be alright. Love wasn’t cold like winter; it was warm like summer.

[harryswanderlust]

Locker Room

warnings: smut!! & cursing

requested: nope

I hope you guy enjoy 4k words of gym! shawn!!

A sigh escapes her lips as she fills the water cooler for the third time in the past hour, secretly hoping she won't have to fill it more than the eight times she usually does during her shift. She prefers it over having to pick up the dirty, sweaty towels off the gym floor to throw into the wash, but neither thing is glamorous in her opinion. Her job isn't too bad, she really doesn't have to do much, and Y/n really needs the money. It was either here or the coffee shop on the corner, and she doesn't know a thing about making coffee.

She's been working here for about two weeks, and the worst thing she's had to do is help all the clueless people understand the terms of their membership. She'd rather bang her head against a wall, but most days are relaxing for her when she doesn't have to deal with that. She mostly gets to hide in the background completely unnoticed since everyone seems to know what they're doing and goes about their business like usual.

She gets a nice view sometimes, and one of these days she knows she's going to get caught staring at the cute guys that walk in. She can't help herself, once they take their shirts off she gets a front row seat to their toned abs and back muscles and how could she look away from that? No one really pays much attention to her except to ask for a towel or for her to refill their water bottles though. Every day is basically the same routine, but today's shift was going to be a little different for her.

She makes her way back to the front desk, resting her chin on her fist as she reopens her book to continue reading it. The day has been slow so far, not a lot of people coming in, and it's relatively quiet except for the clinking of weights. She's been waiting, watching the tiny hand tick by on the clock, for her lunch break. While her job may not hard, it's certainly not invigorating and sadly her lunch break is the most exciting part of her day.

When she hears the bell on the door ring, she looks up from her book, letting it close on the counter as she gets ready to give whoever's come in the usual "Hi, welcome to Fusion Gym," greeting, but the words manage to get caught in her throat.

She's unable to do anything but blink, taking in the sight of the stranger that just walked in. She thinks she's dreaming at first as her eyes roam his entire his body, noting the heading that's pushing back chocolate brown curls and shorts that are exposing a pair of thighs that she swears are sinful. Sure she's seen some well fit, attractive looking young guys come in. She works in a gym for goodness sake, but him? He puts all of them to shame.

She jumps out of her chair, smoothing out her shirt and fixing her name tag. She rakes her fingers through hair, trying to make herself look nice or at the very least presentable. She never put much effort into how she looked for her job since she only had to interact with a handful of people and her boss didn't care. But today has made her want to try a bit harder.

He makes his way over to her and is about to say something when Jeremy, the gym's best personal trainer, comes up to him.

"Hey, Shawn. It's been a while since I've seen you, where've you been?" He asks, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him into a type of bro hug. He gives a couple pats on the back before releasing him, one hand still on his shoulder.

Shawn.

She kind of liked that name.

The kind of name she'd like to scream.

"Been busy writing that album and stuff. You know how it is," he tells him, shrugging as he pulls his gym bag off his shoulder. She watches as his biceps flexes, and she restrains herself from biting her lip. A few tattoos on his arm catch her attention, and if she didn't have a thing for them before then she sure did now.

Also, writing an album? Did that make him a singer? She's never heard of any singers named Shawn, but being away at college has really managed to take her out of the loop.

"Yeah, I no worries man. You want to make it a leg day?" Jeremy asks him, and Shawn nods in agreement. Y/n doesn't catch the words that are passed between them next because she's too busy daydreaming about the tall, amber eyed boy in front of her with the a smile like sunshine. Thoughts swirling through her mind about how someone so perfect could exist. Which she realizes is impossible because no one is truly perfect, but damn did he sure come close.

It makes her wish she'd starting working at the gym sooner.

She's fully aware that there's work she needs to do, and standing here gawking at people isn't going to help get it done. It's probably time for her to wipe down equipment or clean one of the bathrooms, but that all seems so insignificant to her right now.

"Hello? Excuse me, miss?"

Gasping, she's pulled back to reality. She blinks a few times, silently cursing at herself for appearing like a fool in front of him. He's standing right in front of her, patiently waiting for her to say something.

"Yes, I'm sorry. Hi, can I help you with something today?"

Like maybe taking off your shirt?

"Yeah, could I get a towel please?"

She nods frantically, like somehow she can no longer behave like a normal human being. She walks back to the closet where they keep the towels and has to stand on her tiptoes to get the only available ones on the top shelf.

"Sorry about that," she says sheepishly when she's back behind the front desk, "Here you go."

She hands him the neatly folded towel, their hands touching when he grabs it from her. A slight chill runs through her, and she has to close her eyes for a minute to calm herself. She doesn't know why she's getting so worked up over a guy. An inconceivably hot guy, but still a guy.

"I appreciate it," he thanks her, his face lighting up with a smile and Y/n's knees go weak at the sight. "I've never seen you here before. I'm Shawn."

He offers her his hand to shake and she takes it, her thumb tracing over the bird that is inked onto it. She ponders over it, considering what it might mean before realizing she hasn't said anything back.

"I..I'm new," she sputters, shaking his hand way too eagerly. He lets out a small laugh, one she'd find endearing if it wasn't caused by the dumb mistake she just made. "I mean, I'm Y/n. Obviously new isn't my name. That would be...that would be stupid...obviously..."

Her focus shifts to anywhere but his own, unable to handle how embarrassing she's being right now. She's word vomiting all over herself, and she'd say that it's the reason no one's ever asked her out. She can hardly say anything remotely intelligible around good looking people so it's no wonder why she can't keep anyone around.

"Cute name for an even cuter girl," he says, winking at her, and her heart almost stops beating.

Was that–did he just compliment her? She had to have imagined that right?

"Guess I'll be seeing you around more often," he waves and turns over his shoulder to join Jeremy in the workout room.

She mutters a "guess so" under her breath and jumps giddily where she stands when he's no longer facing her. She wipes her clammy palms against her jeans, trying to get of all the sweat and sits back down in her chair. Opening her book, she tries to get back into it and stop herself from watching Shawn. But it doesn't work once the weights are picked up and the shirt comes off, his entire physique on full display for her.

He could literally choke her with those thighs if he wanted.

After a while, she's still trained on him. Sweat glistens against his chest and forehead, his eyebrows drawn together as he concentrates. For Y/n, this is more entertaining than anything she could see at the movies or on tv. She'd pay to see this everyday, even if the boy never developed any interest in her.

She didn't know it yet, but her luck was about to start changing for her.

･ﾟ✧･ﾟ ✧ ･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ✧

The low hum of music from the speakers above flows through the gym, a yawn seeping past her lips as she rests her chin further against her fist. She blinks several times, tiredness taking over her body. She's been fighting off sleep for the past three or four hours, trying to stay awake for the night shift she's been stuck on. It was the only time she was available to work this week, having to have mornings and afternoons free for her college midterms. And if she wasn't already occupied enough with all that, it sure didn't help that Shawn has been on her mind the entire time.

It would have been wise to take the whole week, but her desire to see him again was greater than her need to pass her tests. He's started coming in every day since they met, or on nights like tonight if that's when Y/n's working. She didn't know what to think of it really, or of herself for that matter. It wasn't like he was anyone special, if you take away that fact that he's a talented artist and is a walking dream, yet she's developed a crush on him in such a short amount of time. She even took her hair out of a ponytail for him, letting it fall loosely around her face and over her shoulders. She would've brushed it, but she didn't want it to seem like she was trying too hard.

Not that it mattered because Shawn definitely noticed her. He noticed her from the moment he laid eyes on her, even if she was about to fall out of her chair. It was adorable, and what's more adorable is the amount of times he's caught her staring at him while he's in the middle of working out. He'd be lying if he said he didn't love the way he's able to put on a show for her. It's an immediate confidence booster for him when she gets flustered, turning back to the towels she folding or book she's only half reading. And when she's busy and needed elsewhere, he's watching her too.

Slowly, they've both been noticing that the only attention they want is each other's. There have been plenty of girls in the gym that have taken their shot at flirting with Shawn–there being one in particular that Y/n remembers named Olivia. She works at the gym alongside her, and she had to watch the pathetic scene unfold in front of her while refraining herself from killing the girl. Everything from shoulder touching, hair twirling, and all the way to fake laughing. She thought she was going to be sick, but luckily Shawn wasn't paying any mind to her. He's used to the affection, but now he only wants Y/n's.

She releases a grunt when her head slips from her hand, hitting her forehead on the counter. Her fingers tend to the pain, rubbing tenderly to help ease it before she decides to clean the equipment in order to keep herself from nearly falling asleep again. If there's anything she's learned from this night, it's that four cups of coffee fails to do the trick.

Right now there's two things she'd love: either a nap or to be underneath Shawn while he's doing push ups in the workout room with Jeremy...or for other reasons. The way his muscles are flexing is making her hot, and the a/c in this place is always cranked up on full blast.

"How many is that?" Shawn asks, grunting as he pushes himself up from the mat. A bead of sweat slides down the side of his head, his damp curls sticking to his neck.

"That's thirty," Jeremy answers, smacking on a piece of gum. His gaze wanders the room, stopping when he sees Y/n wiping down a weight bench. "Hey, Y/n. I'm going to go fill up my water. Make sure he doesn't stop while I'm gone, would ya?"

He doesn't wait for a response, already making his way towards the water cooler. She glances at Shawn who relaxes before he stands up. The air is thick around them as he moves to stand in front of her, bringing his hand up to brush a piece of hair behind her ear. Skin tingles where he touches her, feeling electric as it runs down her spine.

She'd love for him to touch her all over.

She'd love to get to touch him all over. And his shirt's already off, making him half naked...

"You're not really going to make me do any more are you? I think I deserve a break don't you?" He asks, quirking a brow and cocking his head.

She draws in a weary breath, unsure of what to say as she grabs his hand and pulls it away from where it hovers above her cheek. She holds onto it, looking at where their hands meet and letting a second pass before she snaps herself out of whatever trance she's in.

"I...I guess?" She says questioningly.

He shakes his head. "You know what? What if you helped me instead?"

Her brows knit together, confusion gracing her features. "What do you mean?"

There's no one around except for the two of them and one or two other employees, most people having called it a night ages ago. The room is calm and quiet with it only being the two of you. That's why Shawn doesn't have a problem pulling her down gently to the mat, climbing above her and positioning himself to do more push-ups. Fear ignites behind her eyes as her back presses against it, their chests all but touching. He grasps her chin, getting her to look at him.

"For every push-up I do right I'll kiss you," he explains, and he has no idea where any of this came from but he's glad it did. He has wanted to ask her out over the past week. He's wanted to ask her out from the minute he saw her behind the front desk, but he's chickened out every time he's considered going for it.

"Wait what?"

She's hoping Jeremy doesn't come back anytime soon, not finding this situation to be one she'd enjoy explaining her way out of.

"Think of it as a reward," he persuades her, pushing himself down so his lips ghost right over her ear, "For both of us."

His locks dangle over his lashes, tickling along the side of her neck. She resists the urge twirl a curl of it around her finger. She's wondered what it feels like. Probably

"But how will I know if you do one right?" She whispers.

"I guess that's up to me to decide," he breathes, already bending down to start. His warm breath fans across her face, his nose lightly brushing hers. Her body is suddenly begging for him to kiss her, anticipating him pressing his warm lips to hers. Her head swirls and eyes flutter shut.

He's about to steal one from her. Claim the reward that's well earned for both of them, but she puts a stop to it.

"You know, I like your songs," she blurts out, dissipating the moment. She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, angry that she just ruined things as the heat was turning up. Her words come out so rushed she's hoping he didn't understand a thing she said–she's not even sure she understood what she said.

"What?"

"I like your songs," she repeats, more clearly this time. "I looked you up on Spotify the other night and I think your songs are...are cool."

'I looked you up on Spotify?' 'I think your songs are cool?'. Seriously? She listened to all three of his albums and that's what she has to say about it? That's the best she could come up with? It's better than telling him she spent over two hours listening to his music instead of studying for her classes, but still.

"Oh, thanks," he says, and there he goes again with that lovable laugh that has no business making her like him so much. "Do you have a favorite?"

She shrugs, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "I guess I really enjoyed that one song...Nervous I think it was...?"

A deep shade of crimson blossoms over Shawn's cheeks, and he coughs before shaking it off. His embarrassment begins to falter, and she notices a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Is it because I make you nervous, princess?"

She freezes, her pulse racing.

Princess?

That was new. She's never been called that before, but she liked hearing it come from that mouth of his. Now she wants to know what else it can do. Kiss her lips? Or maybe the ones a little further south?

She's so lost in her mind that she's totally surprised when he finally decides to go for it. Next thing she knows his lips are on hers, moving gently. It's fervent, it's insiste. Each one deeper than the last every time he pulls away and comes back. He relaxes, his body melting into hers as she winds her arms around him. They're flush against each other now with no room to consider the possibility of someone walking in on them now.

One hand tangles in her hair, the other pinches her hip causing her to squirm and her mouth to part. Her heart beats faster and faster, body spinning as she savors the saccharin taste of honey. They're making out for the entire world to see–they're lying in front of a wall of windows–but that's the last thing either of them care about. The world has fallen around them, and the only thing left are the helpless moans they're pulling out of each other.

She tugs teasingly at his bottom lip, hissing when he grinds his hips against her own. A hand slips under her shirt, splaying over her stomach, but before he can move it any further something halts his actions.

A bottle drops to the floor, the sound of it ringing through the room alongside a string of curses. Shawn swiftly rolls off of her, the two of them sitting up as Jeremy approaches. Realizing their messy appearance, he peers unsurely at them.

He clears his throat. "Ahem, I think we should call it a night," he says, fixated on the way they're so close to one another, "It's getting late, yeah?"

Shawn nods, already halfway stood up. "Yeah, I'm gonna hit the showers."

They exchange goodbyes while Y/n drowns in a sea disbelief. Never in a million years would she have pictured herself making out with a pop star on a grime infested floor. Granted she didn't initiate it, but she made no effort to stop the situation either.

Jeremy's long gone and she chooses to follow Shawn's lead by standing up as well, but when she does she trips. He's quick to catch her as she stumbles into his chest, and he gestures towards the lockers rooms. There's a split second of misunderstanding before she picks up that he wants her to join him, which sends her into a minor panic.

Is he really going to try and hook up with her in a locker room?

Is she really finding herself okay with that?

Could he at least buy her dinner first?

Within no time they're in there and he's all over her again. Dropping his bag and towel, gripping her waist and attaching himself to her neck once more. It's no surprise he's strong, and it's no surprise that a wave of excitement rushes through her when he roughly pushes her back into the side of the lockers. He skims the hem of her shirt, working to pull it off of her.

Her pants are next, and then his own shorts. She's desperate for him when she feels his hard on poking the side of her thigh, mere inches away from leaning into the place she wants him most. Whines fill the air as they leave red and purple marks along skin. Shawn dips down, his mouth roaming her chest while his arm snakes around to work on the clasp of her bra.

He groans, taking in the beautiful sight of her. "I like this view," he says, "I could get used to this."

She can't believe how she's gotten here. Naked and sandwiched between Shawn and the cold metal of a row of lockers. She can't believe it when his mouth leaves her collarbone and attacks her nipple, his fingers fumbling around with the other. She can't believe the way she's shuddering when he carefully drops down to his knees. He leaves sloppy kisses on her on his way down, making her want to crumble.

There's a tingling feeling where she's aching for him when he levels with her center. She's wet. Beyond wet, and he's barely done anything to her yet. He's positioned himself between her thighs, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles into them, and she wants to come undone at the sight of it alone.

Her body lurches forward when his nose nudges her clit. She becomes a whimpering mess when his fingers dance along her thighs and make their way up to her heat. They slide through her wet folds, circling her entrance before slipping one in. His tongue is on her next, eliciting a scream from her as it swirls her clit.

Groans leave him as he sucks on her bundle of nerves, causing vibrations that make her tremble. Her legs shake, and she's already beginning to drip all over his chin.

"Fuck," she whines, loving the way he's stretching her more and more with each pump.

He pulls away, muttering a "you taste so fucking good," beneath his breath, eyes glossed over with lust, before burying himself in her again. He's relentless, pushing deep inside her all the way to his knuckles and picking up his pace to bring her closer and closer to the edge. Her back arches into him, and she moans at the way he's touching every place inside her. Licking, lapping, sucking–every movement, everything more magical than the last.

He continues to mercilessly eat her out, floating from how her pussy tastes. Soft cries can be heard as she's on the brink of release. She's in awe at how goddamn amazing he is at this. There's no way he hasn't done this before, but she doesn't care because she didn't know someone could make her feel this good. Her head leans back on the lockers, her eyes hooded as she watches herself spill all over his chin.

"Such a pretty princess when you're about to cum for me," he mumbles, moving faster to finish her off. And the way he says 'for him' does things to her. She's not just cumming, she's coming for him. And he's making her.

Her hands slam to the lockers to keep her steady.

"Right there. Please right there," she begs as he brings her to her hilt. Her orgasm starts to wash over her, unraveling right in front of him. He marvels in it, refusing to slow down or let up as she succumbs to pure bliss.

He licks every drop of her, cleaning her up as she writhes. He's never been so satisfied from making a girl cum with only his mouth. He's never been more confident in his abilities, and he'll be the first to admit he wants to do it again. He plants one last kiss to her clit, listening to the way she giggles as he stands back up.

He presses another one to her lips to allow for her to taste her sweet self on him. "How was that?"

"You," she breathes, "were amazing."

Thanks for reading! Feedback is appreciated!! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed! :) xx

[buckthegrump]

Hands of Fate - 4

Summary: You have a secret. It’s a secret that you’ve been able to keep hidden from the world for years (with the help of one other person). But after a run-in with a group of HYDRA agents, you find yourself at the Avengers compound. And it’s proving harder and harder to keep your secret especially with one particularly observant supersoldier who doesn’t seem to trust you.

Word Count: 1888

Warnings: Some violence, angst (kind of), swearing

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader (Eventually)

A/n: if you want to be added to the tag list send me an ask, please. Previous parts on my masterlist

Despite your resistance and against your better judgment, you were becoming friends with these people, well, except Bucky but you didn't mind that at all.

Natasha continued to train you and you continued to surprise her with your fighting skills. She kept making comments about how you didn’t need lessons but you pushed and got your way.

Steve, who you kind of hated, only because you kept showing him different food combos that should at least slow him down. But they never did thanks to his superhuman metabolism.

Tony and Rhodey were fun because it was easy to start an agreement between the two of them, it was all in good fun but sometimes they walked away from each other.

Thor and Clint weren’t around because they had other business to attend to.

You only really hung out with Vision and Wanda in group settings because you didn’t want them to find out your secret.

Sam was a secret prankster and somehow he’d dragged you into one that he was pulling on not just Tony but the entire team. He talked Rhodey into joining the tomfoolery. You were on lookout while Rhodey and Sam worked on the plan.

“Why are we doing this?” Rhodey asked.

“Because I have a new goal,” Sam answered.

“Which is?”

“Sam wants to see how many pranks he can pull off before people catch him, which includes pulling pranks that might never see the light of day,” you told Rhodey.

“Sam, no offense,” Rhodey said and Sam paused and looked at him, “This is genius.”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh god. This is going to become a regular thing isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Sam answered, “And you will be our look out for all of them.”

“Great,” you muttered.

A few minutes later they were done and the three of you went your separate ways acting cool for the rest of the day.

/

“Are you sure you’ll be fine here?” Tony asked.

They were all leaving on a few different recon missions that would last over the course of a few days leaving you alone with Bucky.

“Yes, dad I’ll be fine,” you told him for the millionth time.

You had been there for almost 3 months now and they had made multiple promises about being so close to finding the guys that had attacked you. And even though you should’ve been, you weren’t in a giant rush to get out of here.

You had kept your distance from Wanda because your head was started to hurt and you didn’t know how long you could keep up the shield.

“Ok, we’ll be back in a few days,” Steve said walking up next to Tony, “If you need anything or need to go out for any reason talk to Bucky and he’ll take you.”

“Doubt it,” you muttered.

“He will,” Steve said giving Bucky a look.

Bucky grumbled something unintelligible and walked off.

The rest of the team left and you were now alone in the compound with Bucky Barnes.

“Fun times,” you said under your breath.

Finding things to occupy your time would’ve been easier if you hadn’t already blown-through all the shows and movies you could stand to watch on Netflix and Hulu.

With nothing else to do you made your way to the gym. You walked in and there was music blaring from the speakers. Bucky was using the punching bags so you stationed yourself at the treadmills. You don’t know what you expected Bucky to listen to while working out but it definitely wasn’t pop from the late 2000s/ early 2010s but the all too familiar sound of Just Dance by lady gaga was filling the training area so much that he didn’t appear to hear you enter.

Normally after you finished on the treadmill you’d practice hand to hand combat but you’d only ever done that with Natasha so you did a little awkward dance not sure if you should find another type of workout to do or just take a shower and do something else.

“I could teach you somethings ya know,” Bucky said not breaking his punching pattern.

“Or you could do something that would actually be useful and take me back to my apartment, Steve and Natasha left something behind,” you said trying not to look at him.

He stopped and walked over to you. He wasn’t wearing a shirt so you got a full view of his very attractive torso. You tried not to stare at him, but that was proving difficult when beads of sweat kept dripping down drawing your attention to his chest. He put a short-sleeved shirt on and looked at you.

“Why would I do that?” He asked looking annoyed.

“Because if I go somewhere you go somewhere,” you reminded him, “Wasn’t that the deal?”

He sighed heavily, “fuck.”

An hour later you were sitting on the back of Bucky’s motorcycle. You were holding on to his waist tighter than you needed too but you couldn’t stop yourself. Once he stopped the bike you wasted no time getting off the bike.

“Not a fan of motorcycles are ya doll?” Bucky smirked.

You glared at him not trusting your voice to hold steady. He did look incredibly hot on his bike but you’d never admit that to anyone. He got off the bike and followed you into your old building. You realized as you walked in that this was probably the last time that you’d be in that building because as soon as this whole mess was taken care of, you were leaving town.

As you walked up to your old apartment Bucky started talking.

“So what’s so important that you had to get me to bring her you here to get it?” Bucky asked.

You debated telling him because it was kind of personal.

“Something that my mother gave to me,” you told him and he stopped and grabbed your arm.

“We’re risking our lives so you get something that your mother gave to you?”

You ripped your arm from Bucky’s grasp and glared at him.

“Yes,” you sneered and continued to your apartment.

Once inside you could tell something was off instantly and normally you wouldn’t bother but if you were going to stay at the compound indefinitely you needed that necklace. You knew exactly where it was so you made your way to the bedroom with Bucky right on your heels.

You opened the door to find a man standing there with a gun pointed at you.

“Found you,” he beamed like the two of you had been playing the most intense game of hide-and-seek.

He cocked the gun and before you knew what to do Bucky was standing in front of you and taking the bullet. The HYDRA agent then repositioned his gun and shot but Bucky blocked it with his left hand. You almost cried out at the thought of him having a bullet hole in his hand before it ricocheted off his hand and you remembered that he had a metal arm.

Bucky took the gun from the man and shot him before you could register what was going on. You watched the HYDRA agent’s lifeless body fall to the ground.

“Oh shit,” you whispered and Bucky glared at you.

“Would you rather of had me let him live?” Bucky demanded.

“No,” you said meekly, “I just have never seen someone die before.”

Bucky’s face softened slightly at your admission.

“Go get your thing,” Bucky said softly.

You nodded and walked over to the nightstand and opened the drawer. There just laying carelessly on the wood was the compass necklace your mother had given you when you first showed signs of having powers.

You pulled up the necklace and placed it on your neck.

“A necklace? We almost died for a necklace?” Bucky asked in disbelief.

“I think that’s a little dramatic,” you said as you rolled your eyes.

Bucky gestured to his side, “I’ve been shot!”

You looked down at his right shoulder and there was in fact, a gunshot wound that wasn’t bleeding as much as you thought it should be.

You grimaced, you had completely forgotten that he’d stepped in front of you to take a bullet.

“Let’s get out of here,” he sighed.

The trip back to the compound was seemed shorter than the trip to your old place.

Once inside Bucky made his way to the infirmary and for some reason, you followed him. He looked around for something.

“Do you need help finding something?” You asked.

“I need tweezers or something to get this bullet out,” he grunted.

“It’s still in you?”

He turned to you slowly and gave you a look.

“Ok,” you said defensively, “Sit down and I’ll help you.”

He grumbled something in Russian but he did as you said. He sat on an exam table and continued to grumble in languages you didn’t understand.

Clearly, Bucky suffered from right-in-front-of-your-fucking-face syndrome because you found the tweezers after looking for a literal second. You walked over showing off the tweezers triumphantly.

“Сволочь,” he muttered.

“Such strong language,” you said.

He looked at you confused.

“You know Russian?” He asked incredulously.

“Not really,” you say and motion for him to lay back so you have a better opportunity to get the bullet, he lays back not taking his eyes off you. “But I know when someone is cursing. Cursing is a universal language.”

He grunted noncommittally and squirmed.

“I can’t get the bullet out if you keep moving!” You told him firmly.

“It hurts,” he sneered.

“It would hurt less if you stopped moving so much,” you spat and he glared but stopped moving.

You moved his shirt up his abdomen and inspected the wound. You were poking and prodding the flesh around the wound and every time you touched it Bucky would flinch a little, it gave you a little bit of joy.

Even with a bullet wound you couldn’t help but admire his physique and that irked you.

You bit your bottom lip.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

“For what?” Bucky groaned.

“For taking the bullet for me.”

“It’s my job,” he said.

“And you only did it because it’s your job?” you glanced over at him.

“Yeah, and because if you’d died on my watch I’d have to do a lot of paperwork,” he said.

“Great I’m glad I didn’t become an inconvenience for you,” you said and pulled the buttled from his side and he groaned.

You smiled and walked away. You were freaking out a little bit. You had accidentally healed him you used your healing power to heal him subconsciously while you pulled the bullet out. You knew because you could feel the current running through you and into him.

He was for sure going to figure it out, but at least it was just the healing power.

/

An hour later Bucky’s wound was completely healed scar and all. Which was odd, it usually took at least two hours for a GSW to heal. But typically he didn’t get it taken care of it within the hour so maybe taking better care of his body more often.

But that night he couldn’t stop thinking about how quickly his wound healed and he was sure it wasn’t just because he took care of it quickly.

[entirebodyexercise]

Lessons Learned From Serial Racing

Racing often could be high-risk, but there are likewise bunches of possible incentives to this approach.

Most competitive runners who reside in the Washington D.C., area have a Michael Wardian story to inform. Wardian, a local of Alexandria, Va., is a repeat national champion at several ultra distances and also a self-admitted serial racer. While holding back a full time job as well as increasing a household, he is somehow able to show up at multiple races on the same day, run fast almost whenever out and sometimes win them all, furthering his famous standing as an immortal rival.

But is this method of regularly putting the body to the ultimate test on a regular if not everyday basis a smart idea? If Wardian, that holds a 2:17 personal ideal in the marathon, had picked a more cautious approach to training that concentrated on the tenets of periodization, would he have the ability to take his running to a brand-new level? Or, on the other hand, is there something about serial racing that functions for him? And can it help you?

What follows are the advantages of this extreme strategy to training and racing, together with a few points to check out on your own. We spoke with ZAP Fitness instructor Pete Rea, 13-time All-American and also two-time Olympic Tests qualifier Sarah Crouch, as well as Wardian himself concerning the positives of serial racing.

Serial racing can...

...teach you how to race.There's fact in the old proverb that we learn by doing. The more we race, the more lessons about contending that we can internalize. Exactly how can you know when to kick and also how you can kick on the day of your large race if you've never ever done it before? The same reasoning obtains other elements such as exactly what to put on and exactly what to consume or drink on the course. Serial racing could bring about a far better understanding of you as a jogger. "It offers professional athletes an opportunity to practice the early-morning race programs and sustaining technique that they will require later on in the period during a goal race," says Crouch, that now trains for Runners Link. "Each race provides a professional athlete an opportunity to experience the 'going-to-the-well' discomfort that is seldom touched throughout practice. As an athlete boosts, there is an awareness that racing doesn't obtain less complicated, it just gets much faster." Wardian admits the learning facet is among the reasons he's constantly around with his flats on. "I think exactly what I get out of competing so usually is experience which has many faucets in that I get aware of just what is needed to do my finest, and each time I race I discover something brand-new and also I could use that going onward," he says.

... revive your love of the sport.For those who do not contend a lot, races could be stressful affairs that strain the mind-- particularly marathoners who've been educating 16 weeks for that one wedding to receive Boston or establish a brand-new Public Relations. However races do not have to be by doing this, they can be enjoyable "I do believe a bunch of people question exactly how I can race so much psychologically as well as literally, and I assume that concerns my interest for it," states Wardian. "I definitely appreciate all the of it, obtaining my kit together, lacing up my Hokas, lining up for the restroom, seeing buddies, the noise of the gun going off and after that the race."

... done correctly, enhance your health and fitness in a short period of time. "Serial racing is an effective means of blowing off the proverbial rust swiftly as well as relocating toward high-level racing in a much shorter time period," states Coach Rea. Rea cautions that this period of intense racing ought to be timed effectively. He mentions that runners should initial establish a cardio base of training complied with by tempo-based, strength-building work prior to they go on to racing continuously. Then, Rea suggests that a runner can finish approximately 4 to 5 races in a 6- to 8-week span, yet they have to be cautious of the injury threat involved. It's imperative that they pay as much focus to recovery after the race in order to the races themselves. "If a professional athlete is certain to recover comfortably-- with quite simple aerobic operating as well as little to no difficult workouts in between the workouts, save some light economic climate job-- fitness could and also will bump swiftly assuming appropriate background," he says.

... offer you a chance to experiment. For many joggers who compete infrequently, a race ends up coming to be a final, "all or absolutely nothing" test of types-- a major stressor. Racing more suggests there are a lot more chances to experiment with various things and getting to find out what works and also doesn't benefit you while decreasing the threat. The even more you race, the even more freedom you have to attempt out new footwear or gear. Think about utilizing the whole idea of serial racing as its very own experiment. "It is necessary to comprehend that what benefit one runner could not help another," warns Crouch. "Every jogger is different as well as each jogger has a special 'glass ceiling', a factor at which either mileage or intensity ends up being way too much and also the body breaks down, resulting in injury disease or exhaustion. Some joggers are literally and emotionally resilient adequate to manage a heavy racing schedule while others ought to limit their racing to merely a few races each period in order to remain healthy and balanced."

Do you have a time goal for your following fifty percent marathon? Competitor.com has training plans developed to obtain you to your objective. Inspect 'em out!

[celiacandsalty]

Kal Penn’s Nuts

Warning: the following blog includes strong language, references to gluten, and excessive whining.

When my brother Jeff got diagnosed with Celiac disease in 2014 (at age 34) I distinctly remember my first thought being something along the lines of, “oh god, that poor bastard.” Not only because many most of the best foods contain gluten, but because I was already imagining the inevitable day when he goes to some business dinner or something and the server mistakes him for one of THOSE people. You know, the people we all roll our eyes at because they claim to have a gluten “sensitivity” or “intolerance,” but we suspect they’re full of shit and make a mental note to mock them at a later date. It’s hard to say why I cared so much about what hypothetical Cheesecake Factory employees in Ohio might think about my brother’s diet but I DID.

(I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but on TV shows now if they want to quickly convey that a character is an annoying douchebag, usually all they have to do is throw in a line where that person orders a gluten free whatever and a vegan something or other. It’s been a “joke” (for lack of a better word) for at least a decade now and for some reason shows no signs of stopping, despite the fact that it is completely unoriginal, unfunny, and hacky. What I’m saying is, gluten free is the new Nickleback.)

Okay, now cut to 2018 when I, following in my brother’s stupid footsteps, also get diagnosed with Celiac disease1 and all those pitying thoughts I never would have verbalized to my poor bastard brother come flooding back, only now they apply to me too and I can hear them all because they’re in my head. I did not take the news well.

Now, it almost goes without saying that it is easier now than ever before to find decent gluten-free food, especially in Portland, Oregon (where I fortunately already happened to live), but I gotta say, it’s a colossal pain in the ass and it still sucks. It sucks that I have to spend so much of my free-time moonlighting as a gluten detective, looking at menus for places I might possibly be invited to eat at someday and reading every word on every food label and trying to get to the bottom of whether miso paste or Werther’s Originals are safe for me to eat.2 It sucks that I don’t even really WANT to go out to eat much anymore because it’s such a stressful experience that I barely enjoy it anways. It sucks that I once enjoyed traveling and now I’ve pretty much written off at least a couple of entire continents (and they were good ones too.) It sucks that I have frequent anxiety dreams about accidentally poisoning myself. It sucks that I only just discovered Shake Shack 6 months before getting diagnosed and now I’ll never again know the joy of a squishy hamburger bun. It sucks that I no longer get to be the easygoing person in a group or at the office who, when asked about dietary restrictions, could proudly say “Nope! I’m fine with whatever (aka I am a very cool and chill person).” I could go on and on, but I’d have to say the thing that actually sucks the most is the whole gluten-as-a-punchline thing because for me it is so terribly unfunny.

A couple of months ago3 I was at the gym, listening to one of my podcasts in which the guests, usually comedians, get a chance to rant for a few minutes on any topic of their choosing. That week, Kal Penn (of Harold & Kumar fame4) was one of the guests and he made the bold choice to rant about GLUTEN. My blood went straight to a solid simmer before he said another word. I considered shutting it off, but I thought to myself, “Easy does it, Jeanne! Maybe it’s not going to be what you think it is.”

Narrator: It was.

Kal Penn went on to say that as a person living with a severe allergy to tree nuts, it makes him very angry that people who claim to have GLUTEN allergies or intolerances are diluting the seriousness of his legitimate food allergy. The main takeaway being that GLUTEN allergies are FAKE and a FAD and they’re a PREFERENCE, unlike Kal Penn’s very real allergy to nuts.

Of course, Kal Penn included the caveat that there is a VERY small percentage of people for whom gluten issues are real, but I feel like that finer point may have been lost in the message of screaming FAKE FAKE FAKE for 3 minutes.5

The annoying thing though, is that Kal Penn is right. It IS a fad. (Especially in LA.) And I HATE that it is. One particularly annoying thing about this is that restaurants are catching on and more and more GF items items are popping up on menus everywhere. Unfortunately, they are often actually GF, unless you have Celiac disease, which makes my gluten detective job much harder.6

Now I don’t doubt that living with a nut allergy is hard. And I imagine that Kal Penn and I actually have a lot in common when it comes to anxieties and frustrations around food and eating out. I know that I shouldn’t say that I’m jealous of Kal Penn and his nut allergy, but in a way I am. Yes, I’m sure it is terrifying to go into anaphylactic shock and have to be rushed to the hospital, but on the bright side, at least people don’t think you’re a douchebag liar!

Speaking of being rushed to the hospital, here’s the funny story about how I found out that I can’t eat gluten. A little over a year ago, I ended up in the emergency room after dramatically collapsing in my apartment and completely losing all feeling in the entire left side of my body. After getting an MRI (and some other very expensive tests), I was informed that there were several areas of stroke in my 34-year-old brain.7

I spent 3 days in the neurology unit with puzzled doctors coming in every hour to scratch their heads and look at me with great concern. I didn’t find out for another full week that all of this was a result of undiagnosed Celiac disease. Apparently though I was asymptomatic in terms of gastrointestinal issues (very common in adults), I had become so severely anemic8 that I literally almost died. Malnutrition and malabsorption are common symptoms of Celiac, and at this point my hemoglobin was so critically low that I required a blood transfusion and 2 IV iron infusions.

Ok, so cool story, I know, but is stroke and near-death a common effect of eating gluten? Nope! I don’t think so!

So what’s my point? Fuck, I don’t even remember now. But I guess what I’m saying is...we all know the people Kal Penn is talking about. And I spend way too much of my mental energy worrying that when I tell someone I can’t have gluten9, they might, for example, still serve me a salad that they accidentally put the croutons on and then tried to pick them off but missed a few because they probably assume I’m just another asshole doing the Whole 30.10  

So, Kal Penn, believe me when I say that I am with you on the issue of THOSE people. But continuing to rail against them and their possibly exaggerated gluten sensitivities does nothing to stop them. (I suspect it might even make them stronger and more annoying.) It does however, continue to reinforce the already widespread belief that gluten is a made-up problem invented in the 2000s, by I don’t know, naturopaths and George Soros probably? And it’s this belief that is actually very dangerous to people like myself and my brother and the millions of other poor bastards with REAL incurable conditions, and, for what it’s worth, one that seems unlikely to change the way we treat someone with a nut allergy. And, last but not least, it is also a belief that occasionally ruins my workout/enjoyment of podcasts.

Anyways, thanks for letting me vent.

Oh, but sorry about your nuts, Kal Penn.

----

Cool family, right?? (Also my maternal grandmother had it too and was diagnosed in the 1980s.)

Still unclear

I meant to write this sooner. Fortunately, my New Year’s Resolution was to hold on longer to more grudges.

Among other things, like Obama’s White House?

I was also going to go back and listen to the podcast again to more accurately transcribe his rant, but just thinking about it made my heart hurt. If you want to hear for yourself, it was the November 9, 2019 episode of Lovett Or Leave It.)

Plus the pay sucks.

I think it could still pass for 28.

My blood’s solution to this problem was to produce WAY too many platelets, which I didn’t know and perhaps my blood didn’t know, are what make blood clot.

“Just tell them you have CELIAC.” Well guess what–some of THOSE people are co-opting our magic word too now!

Sorry if you’re doing the Whole 30 and not an asshole.

[strengthofasunflower]

So....Long Time Mo See

So, long time no see! I am sorry for being missing in action for the past almost 2 months. My life has been very crazy every since the start of April into May. There has been a lot of changing in my personal life like getting new neighbours upstairs (there has been some issue with them and my stress has been through the roof), switching from 2 jobs to 1 full-time job (which I am very happy about but it is taking some time to adjust to it) and all of that just has taken a toll on my mental/physical health. I started stopped doing a lot of my hobbies that I was doing like blogging, meditation and even working out which probably didn’t help because those were some of my self-care stuff I would do. But there was a part of me that if I tried to do all of those things, I got so overwhelmed that I would just stop and sleep all day. So, I decided to take a small break from blogging and focus on my health and going to the gym.

It was going pretty well until the amount of stress got so bad that I started to get horrible back pain to the point that I couldn’t get up or bend. I know my body well enough that when I get this stress, I hold it all in my back. Which took me out of the gym for almost 2 weeks now and that is where I found that my mental health really took a turn for the worse. The only thing that I was doing was going to work, trying to stretch out my back and driving my boyfriend to work or his ultimate game for the past 2-3 weeks. I have started to go crazy and just almost give up on trying to do things I once enjoyed doing. 

I say almost because I decided to take the rest of May off and start fresh in June because my body is telling me that it is way overwhelmed and needed this little break. Once I started to listen to my body like that, I am starting to feel a bit better and my back is starting to feel like itself again. 

I have a small little plan for June right now. I did a bullet journal set up for June that focuses on the hobbies that I love to do and self-care. Also, I stopped using my bullet journal for April/May right after I did my set-up for those months because I was trying to make it that cool-creative ones you would see on Instagram but I realized when I do those type of set-up, I feel like that whole month has to look like that…so for June, I did a more simple set up that isn’t too hard to keep up and super easy to follow. 

My plan for June is to try my best to hit the goals that I set up for myself and not holding any judgment if I don’t hit those goals because I found that I get really hooked up when I don’t hit those goals and it re-starts that negative cycle again. 

My Goals For June:

Gratitude Log- writing one sentence a day about something that I am grateful for. Saying things like “I get to..” instead of “I have to..”. I have stated that in May and I found that using those words really change the outlook of my life.

Workout- 5-6 times per week. I know that seems like a lot but for me, I found that when I do something active that amount of time a week does amazing things for my life. I have a workout plan from a YouTuber named Natacha Oceane. I have her Move and Cut reload the program. They are “easy” workouts that I can just go to the gym and I have an amazing workout with not having to put any extra energy into making a workout plan.

Water- 2-3 liters each day. Once again, I know it may seem like a lot, but when I have that amount of water for a consistent amount of time, I feel like I have more energy and don’t feel so sluggish.

Meditation each day. When I took just a 5-10 minutes a day to stop and slow down, I found that I was able to stay grounded and feel good about my day. At night, I would do sleep stories or use Calm’s music of waterfalls, helps me get good sleep throughout the stressful times for these two months. For June, I want to make it a daily habit and not something I do when I feel so overwhelmed that I don’t have the energy to do it.

Journal: 4-5 times per week. For me in my professional life and personal life, I found being reflective about my day/few days helps me work through what I have experienced and feeling. It also gives me a chance to write down happy memories, not just figuring out the negative. 

6.Blogging: 1 time/week. I started this blog to expand my life in many ways. I love being able to share about my life and I have a ton of ideas for the blog post. I just found trying to do more than one per week was just overwhelming for me. I thought setting that goal to do it once a week will be a great way for me to get back into the swing of things without it being totally overwhelming.

So those are my goals for June. The goals are all something extremely important for me in many ways. I always found that if I don’t do a habit tacker in the start, I never follow through on my goals. Now, I feel like I gave myself a good set up to be successful with my goals and hopefully help with some of the emotions that I have been dealing with.

Does anyone have some goals for June or bigger goals for the rest of the year?