#masterlist of author flora

[prettylilyanime]

Blooming Hearts ♡ Chapter 05

˚✿˖ Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x fem reader

˚✿˖ Synopsis: All your life, you’ve had it all—wealth, beauty, and a quirk good enough to secure your spot at UA. But after three years, you still feel more like an outsider than a future hero. Social life? Barely existent. Friends? Who needs them? You’re ready to coast through your final year solo… until fate lands you squarely in the lap of a certain hot-headed blonde—literally.

˚✿˖ tags/warnings: 18+, smut in the later chapters, reader is spoiled, shy reader, they're all third years at UA, Fluff, strangers? to lovers trope, not really strangers, miscommunication, drama, y/n just wants to make friends, reader is canonically pretty, reader is a hero in training, whipped bakugou, she falls first but he falls harder

˚✿˖ Authors note: subtle yn lore gets dropped here…

˚✿˖ Masterlist ♡ Previous ♡ Next

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After Bakugou had been generous enough to help haul in your endless pile of boxes��a consequence of your admittedly irresponsible spending—it seemed he decided to spare you further torment by announcing his departure.

Something about heading to the training arena to "get some real work done."

Not that his presence was bad.

No, it was torturous in the best way possible!

The I-want-him-to-stay-in-my-room-forever-and-keep-calling-me-princess kind of way.

Did that sound crazy?

Even with your ever-growing crush on the blonde, you couldn’t deny the wave of relief that washed over you at his exit.

He’d seen you like this—flustered, fumbling, barely holding yourself together—had even insisted you put on those stupid glasses, and yet…

Somehow, it wasn’t as horrible as you expected.

A warm flutter settled in your chest at the realization. He hadn’t cared about your appearance, hadn’t picked you apart like so many others had. It was a refreshing change from the judgment you’d grown used to.

You never quite understood why people felt so comfortable talking about your looks.

You barely felt comfortable talking to people, period.

And yet, strangers—people who didn’t know a thing about you—felt entitled to comment.

Your figure was amazing. Your hair looked great. What diets had you gone on?

God…

Bakugou didn’t seem to care about any of that.

His focus had been on your vision—or lack thereof. A stupid little thing, but the fact that he didn't seem to care about your looks made your stomach twist in a way you weren’t ready to unpack.

Now, left alone in the quiet of your room, you sat cross-legged on your bed, manicured fingers scrolling through your phone.

Your official account, @OfficiallyFlora, gleamed on the screen. The blue checkmark beside your username felt more like a weight than an accomplishment.

Your profile picture, an overly polished shot of you in your glittering hero costume—stared back at you. The flawless image, taken against a pristine white backdrop, was the product of your mother’s money and marketing efforts.

It was perfect. Too perfect.

Too pretty. Too refined. Too far from the girl sitting here now, sock clad in her bedroom, still reeling from the lingering scent of caramel and smoke that Bakugou had left behind.

Are your teeth really even that white in person?

You don’t know…

Your bio reads: Official Page of Pro-Hero Prospect Flora, making your hearts bloom with every step towards justice!

You sighed, rolling your eyes hard enough to strain something. The bio had been written by your mother’s PR team, dripping with saccharine energy that made you cringe every time you read it.

The rest of your feed wasn’t much better: high-definition shots of battles, cherry blossom-themed merch promotions, and glamorous magazine features.

It was a glossy, manufactured version of you that bore little resemblance to the person staring at the screen, glasses perpetually sliding down her nose.

Growing bored of the staged content, you switched to your private account.

Your followers on this one are, well. Your classmates, surprisingly enough, and one of your mother's pool boys who had asked for your Instagram years ago before you ever even had an official page in hopes of getting to talk to you more?!

You can't help but quirk a brow, you should really get him off your page...

Here, the photos were more personal: snapshots of your travels, close-ups of meals you’d enjoyed, and a random assortment of things that caught your eye.

The likes rarely climb beyond single digits, but it was real and a better representation of yourself than the other page.

A pang of curiosity struck as your fingers moved on autopilot, typing in Bakugou’s name.

His official account, curated by Best Jeanist’s team, popped up first. His posts were as structured as yours—action shots, hero promotions, and carefully orchestrated PR moves.

But unlike how you felt about your feed, his action shots were breathtaking.

One image, in particular, caught your attention: Bakugou holding a tiny kitten that had been stuck in a tree. His sharp features softened as he cradled the fluffy creature, his biceps bulging against his hero suit.

You snorted, amused by the juxtaposition. No matter how intimidating he looked, the sight of him with a kitten was almost too much.

Shaking your head, you scrolled through some of your classmates’ accounts. Their updates showed them at the beach, enjoying pizza nights, and huddled around a glowing campfire.

Seems like without Bakugou around to act as head chef, they had to order takeout instead.

You frowned, an unshakable pit forming in your stomach.

You drop your phone onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling, a quiet sigh escaping your lips. Maybe what you needed was a nice meal—something indulgent to shake off the restless energy.

The thought of heading to the nearest convenience store for another pint of ice cream crosses your mind, the idea warm and tempting. But no.

Not this time.

Instead, maybe you could make an effort. Doll yourself up a bit, put on some makeup, and head out into town. Who needs a big group when you’ve got yourself?

Determined to follow through, you sit up and scan the endless boxes of your new purchases. Finally, you land on a little buttercup-yellow tweed Chanel set, complete with a mini skirt and cropped blazer.

You slip it on, the fabric hugging your figure perfectly and highlighting your silhouette in all the right places.

Hell, for this price point, it better do all of the above!

You turn to your vanity, reaching for your makeup bag. You opt for a soft, casual look—subtle yet radiant, with just enough shimmer to catch the light. Twinkly in all the right places.

To complete the look, you sling a new ivory-colored purse over your shoulder. A cute yellow dandelion charm clipped to the side adds just the right touch of cuteness.

Standing in front of the mirror, you take a moment to admire your reflection. You look polished, confident, like someone ready to take on the evening—even if it’s a solo adventure.

Maybe you’d check out that new sushi spot closer to home!

Yeah, it’s fine that your classmates wouldn’t join you! They'd probably just make you more anxious anyways.

But as you’re heading downstairs and toward the door, you suddenly freeze. A realization dawns on you.

Hajime has the weekend off.

You groan out loud. How are you going to get there? You can’t drive!

Frustration bubbles up, and you slap your forehead. Were you really this helpless? The thought makes you wince, embarrassment creeping in at the edges of your thoughts.

"If I speak, you gonna jump and scream again?" A voice, an irritatingly familiar voice announces his presence.

The familiar gruff voice startles you, and admittedly, you do almost scream. Holding it back though, you whirl around to see Bakugou having just walked out of the elevator behind you.

He seems freshly showered, with his hair still a bit damp, out and pushed back from his handsome face. You could smell him from where you're standing.

Ugh, delicious as usual.

“You did kind of surprise me,” you admit, voice sheepish as your eyes dart away from him.

His eyes roam over your figure quickly, though you don't notice the action over your own mourning of the evening.

“You’re going out?”

The question leaves his mouth before he can stop it, and if he could, he’d smack himself upside the head. Why the hell did he even ask? It’s obvious you are. And more importantly—why is he even starting a conversation in the first place?

Up until literally yesterday, you were just another classmate. Background noise. But these back-to-back interactions are becoming unavoidable, and unfortunately, you’re slipping out of the backdrop and into his world.

You shake your head, lips pulling into a soft, resigned smile. “Well, I was going to, but… I just realized I don’t have any way of getting there.”

“Hah? Can’t take the train?”

Heat blooms across your face, creeping down your neck. “Oh, well… I’ve never taken public transportation.”

There’s a beat of silence—just long enough for you to see the exact moment Bakugou short-circuits.

“Is that some shitty joke?”

You thought your cheeks couldn’t possibly burn hotter, but—oh, look at that! They can!

“I- um, well, no. It’s not.” You swallow, fiddling with the strap of your ivory purse. “Hajime’s driven me everywhere since I was little.”

He blinks, slowly. More in disbelief than anything.

“Hajime?”

You nod. “Yeah, um… my personal driver.”

For a second, you think he might actually roll his eyes. On anyone else, the whole spoiled rich kid routine would piss him off. But with you, it’s different.

Maybe it’s the way you look so flustered, like you’re embarrassed to admit it. Or maybe it’s the way your voice dips, like you’re apologizing for just existing.

Either way, it leaves him feeling something weird—something dangerously close to wanting to help. Again.

Twice in one day. A world record, if he says so himself.

He exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his damp hair. “That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.”

You wince, shoulders curling inward. “I know! It’s bad, okay? But it’s just how I was raised…”

How you were raised?

Bakugou’s brow lifts slightly. So what, you were raised to be a stay-at-home daughter? Spend money like it’s a full-time job?

He knows about your family. Everyone does.

A mother who inherited an entire hero firm from your grandparents—a dynasty so powerful its stocks and investments practically fuel Japan’s economy. And a father who died in the field before you were even born—a rising star in the hero world, gone far too soon.

Your mother, a young heiress to millions. Your father, a pro hero at the height of his career. Expecting their first child. A baby girl—you.

And then, just like that, it all came crashing down.

A mission gone wrong.

A hero lost.

Your father’s death sent shockwaves through the country, leaving Japan in mourning—not just for the man he was, but for the legend he never got the chance to become.

He doesn’t say anything right away—just stares at you with an unreadable expression that makes your stomach churn.

Then, without warning, he mutters, “Get your stuff. We’re going.”

Your head snaps up. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me.” He’s already pulling on his sneakers, his movements brisk and determined. “No way in hell am I letting you graduate from U.A. without knowing how to take a damn train. That’s pathetic.”

“Bakugou, you really don’t have to—”

“Second time today.” He cuts you off with a sharp look over his shoulder. “It’s already happening. Move it, princess.”

Your mouth opens, ready to argue—but the words die in your throat when you see the set of his jaw, the fire in his gaze. He’s not going to back down.

You’re not sure what’s more overwhelming—the idea of taking your first train ride…

Or the fact that Bakugou Katsuki is the one dragging you along for the ride.

You gulp, hurrying after him as he strides out of the dormitory, his natural pace effortlessly long and brisk. You almost trip trying to keep up, the heels of your boots clicking against the pavement.

God, why does he walk so fast?

“We’ve got a station down the block from the UA gates,” he says, barely glancing at you. “We’ll go to that one.”

You nod, stiff as a board. “Gotcha. So, um… where did you want to go?”

His blonde brow arches, the side of his lip curling like you just said something unbelievably stupid. “What? This isn’t about me. This is about teaching you how to get on a damn train.”

You wince, embarrassed. “Right. That makes sense.”

The two of you walk in relative silence, the crisp evening air settling over you like a thin veil.

The streets leading to the station aren’t crowded, but there are enough people out that you can feel the occasional passing glance—whether they recognize you as a hero-in-training or simply because you look like you don’t belong in a place as mundane as a train station, you’re not sure.

Your perfectly tailored blazer, Italian leather purse, and neatly manicured nails feel almost too polished for the scuffed pavement beneath your feet.

Bakugou, on the other hand, fits in seamlessly.

His hands are shoved in the pockets of his hoodie, his comfy sweatpants loose around his legs and tight at his waist.

He looks completely at ease, like this is just another part of his day—meanwhile, your heartbeat is rattling in your ears at the thought of navigating a train station for the first time.

After a few minutes, you reach the station entrance, the underground stairway yawning open before you. A few commuters shuffle past, swiping their cards at the turnstiles, moving like they’ve done this a million times.

You, however, stay frozen at the top of the stairs.

Bakugou doesn’t notice at first, too busy pulling out his own train pass. But when he looks up and sees you still standing there, brows drawn tight with hesitation, he sighs.

“Seriously?” He tilts his head, exasperation flickering in his red eyes. “It’s just a staircase, princess.”

“I know it’s just a staircase,” you huff, crossing your arms. “I just—” You hesitate, glancing down at the tiled steps leading into the station.

You’ve never been in one of these before, never had to navigate the organized chaos of public transport, never had to think about swiping a train card or picking a route.

A ridiculous thought hits you—you’re not sure what’s more embarrassing: the fact that you don’t know how to take a train… or the fact that Bakugou Katsuki is the one who has to teach you.

You bite your lip, it's silly and you know it. “What if I mess up?”

Bakugou stares at you for a beat, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he snorts.

“With that attitude, you’re definitely gonna mess up. Sour face you got going on”

Your jaw drops. “Excuse me?”

His smirk is almost smug. “But that’s the whole damn point. You mess up, you figure it out, and then you won’t be a clueless dumbass next time.”

You scowl. “Your motivational speeches suck.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes before nudging your shoulder—just a small push, barely enough to make you step forward, but it’s enough to shake you out of your own head.

“Come on,” he mutters, starting down the stairs. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

You inhale sharply and, with no other choice, follow him down.

The air shifts as you descend—cooler, tinged with the metallic scent of rails and the distant hum of an approaching train. Your grip tightens around the strap of your purse, nerves bubbling in your chest.

Why is everything so loud down here?!

Bakugou moves ahead, seamlessly navigating through the turnstiles. He scans his card with an effortless flick of his wrist, stepping through without hesitation.

You, on the other hand, stop in front of the machine, frowning at it like it’s a puzzle you weren’t given the pieces to.

Bakugou turns, watching you expectantly.

“Well?” he drawls.

You glance at the screen, then back at your card. “Do I just… tap it?”

“No, you rub it on the damn thing and hope it opens.”

Your glare is sharp, but you say nothing, instead hesitantly pressing the card against the sensor. The gate beeps, unlocking with a mechanical click.

You blink. That’s it?

“Wow, you did it.” Bakugou’s tone is mockingly slow, like he’s congratulating a toddler for taking their first steps.

You don’t know how, when, or what possesses you with a sudden surge of confidence, but before you can stop yourself, your hand reaches out, shoving his shoulder.

His muscled frame barely budges under your touch, solid beneath the fabric of his hoodie.

“Shut up,” you mutter.

He snorts, a short chuckle slipping out as he steps toward the platform, the train’s arrival chime ringing through the station.

Then, as you approach the edge of the platform, a realization slams into you like a ton of bricks.

“…Wait.” You stop in your tracks, eyes widening. “How do I know which train to take?”

Bakugou exhales so deeply it sounds like his soul is actively trying to escape his body.

“God help me.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, his jaw tightening as if he’s physically restraining himself from saying something he’ll regret.

For the first time today, you swear he actually looks pained.

Oh lord. Oh good grief. If you were just about anybody else right now, Bakugou wouldn’t just be snapping—he’d be out of here so fast, you’d be left choking on smoke.

The fact that a pro-hero-in-training, someone who’s supposed to be saving lives, has never taken a damn train is the kind of thing that should be illegal.

So why is he still here?

Why hasn’t he turned on his heel, thrown up his hands, and left you to fend for yourself like any rational, self-respecting person would?

He blinks, his gaze lingering on your face, and for a brief moment—so fast you almost miss it—you swear there’s something unreadable flickering behind those sharp red eyes.

Maybe it’s the way your lashes frame your doe-like eyes, dark and long, casting delicate shadows across your cheeks. Curse you and your stupid, stupid eyes. Is this some kind of second quirk? A hypnosis ability?

Or maybe—just maybe—it’s the way you fidget without realizing it.

Your hands twist together, fingers tangling like they’re trying to hold onto something steady.

Absentmindedly, you twirl the diamond-encrusted eternity band on your index finger, turning it over and over in a nervous rhythm. It catches the dim station light, flashing every time you spin it.

Bakugou’s gaze follows the movement, and something about the unconscious gesture makes his scowl deepen.

“…Tch.” He clicks his tongue, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket. “You really are helpless, huh?”

The words are gruff, edged with frustration, but he still doesn’t walk away.

Instead, he takes a step toward you, nodding toward the digital display overhead. The glowing letters flicker slightly, listing station names, times, and train lines in a way that makes your head spin.

“C’mon, dumbass. I’ll show you how to read the damn schedule before you get yourself lost in the middle of the city.”

Relief washes over you as you quickly follow his lead. “Ah, thank you!”

“Don’t thank me… just pay attention.”

And you do. You pay such good attention that by the time you finally grasp how the whole system works, you’re practically bouncing on your heels in excitement, a bright grin stretching across your face.

You stand on the platform, buzzing with a newfound confidence, while Bakugou—looking as perpetually unimpressed as ever—waits beside you with his hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets.

Then, the distant hum of the train grows louder, and soon enough, the sleek cars pull into the station with a sharp metallic whir.

The doors slide open, and you eagerly step forward, your heeled boots clicking against the platform as you move inside. Bakugou follows closely behind, scanning the interior in one quick glance.

The train is relatively full—enough that only one open seat remains near the doors. Without hesitation, Bakugou nudges you toward it.

“Sit,” he says gruffly, grabbing onto the nearest safety pole as the doors begin to close.

You shake your head, brushing him off. “I’m okay.”

He scoffs, tilting his chin toward your feet. “The train moves fast and isn’t super smooth. I’m sure you don’t wanna go through all that with those on.”

You glance down at your shoes—sleek, heeled boots, stylish but sturdy. Your lips curve into a small smile.

“I’ll have you know my hero costume boots are even higher than these.”

His brow arches slightly, the hint of sarcasm sparking in his eyes. “Yeah? I’m impressed, considering how fast you ran away from me on day one.”

Oh, hell.

Heat creeps up your neck at the reminder, your confidence faltering for a split second. But you recover quickly, squaring your shoulders with a dramatic huff.

“Wow, Bakugou Katsuki, impressed? By little ol’ me?” You place a hand over your heart, feigning exaggerated awe. “It’s an honor.”

He snorts, shaking his head, but there’s something unreadable in the way his gaze lingers on you for just a moment longer.

Then, the train lurches forward.

Despite all your earlier bravado, you do wobble slightly—just enough for Bakugou’s smirk to return in full force.

“…Told you to sit, dumbass.”

But you can’t.

Not because you’re too stubborn. Not because you’re still trying to prove a point.

But because—oh.

A singular, large hand is suddenly tight on your waist, steadying you with an effortless grip.

Oh my.

Who needs a safety rail when Pro Hero Dynamight is holding you like this?!

You internally scream, the realization hitting you all at once. The touch itself isn’t anything crazy—it’s barely even a thing, just a reflex, something automatic, instinctual. Nothing compared to the absolute torture of this morning’s, uh, straddling situation.

And yet, this feels just as bad—if not worse.

Why? Because Bakugou, in all his brash, loud, obnoxious glory, doesn’t even seem to realize he’s still holding onto you.

His grip is firm, warm even through the thick expensive fabric of your clothes, and worst of all? It lingers.

Still there.

Still present.

Still burning through your skin like a brand.

Oh, hell.

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[jobean12-blog]

For the Love of Plants...and You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (plant!dad Bucky AU)

Word Count: 1,229

Summary: You and Bucky go shopping for new plants and he has the best idea.

Author's Note: My lovely friend @sagechanoafterdark shared this wonderful little idea with me and I was so happy to have inspiration for more plant!dad Bucky! YAY! Thanks so much Sage! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by @firefly-graphics thank you sweet Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: it's soft, sweet and fun, spicy and silly, some implied sexy times and Bucky is delish.

*If you want to read more about plant!dad Bucky you can find his other stories on his Masterlist labeled with 'plant!dad Bucky AU'*

“Are you sure you don’t want anything else doll?”

You look up from the current plant in front of you and stare unblinkingly for a moment before bursting into giggles.

Bucky’s arms are full of plants and his handsome face is obscured by various leaves and flowers.

You sift through the flora that hides him and find his blue eyes bright and crinkled at the corners with his wide smile.

“What?” he asks.

“It’s just…you’re so cute.”

His cheeks become tinged with a flush of pink and you lean through the leaves to place a sweet kiss to his lips.

“Thank you for carrying everything. We really need to start getting a cart.”

“Nah doll, then we’ll go home with even more plants. And you don’t have room for more plants. At least this way we are limited to what I can carry.”

“What are you saying Bucky?” you ask with feigned shock.

He’s quiet for a moment and you worry that he thinks you’re serious.

You open your mouth to speak and reassure him you were just teasing but he beats you to it and says, “I’m going to build you new shelves.”

Now it’s your turn to be quiet.

“Doll?” he asks, trying to see you from around the armfuls of plants.

“You want…you want to build me shelves for my plants?”

He finds a free space on the plant stand outside and places a few down so he can actually see you.

“Yeah. Of course. I want you to have all the plants you can fit.”

“I didn’t know you could build things.”

Your voice comes out slightly breathless.

The corner of his mouth lifts into a devious smirk.

“Sounds like you like that I can do that,” he murmurs as he slips his free arm around your waist and tucks you into his side. “I’m pretty good with my hands.”

“Mm,” you hum, laying your flat palm against his chest. “Very good actually.”

He dips his head to capture your lips, lingering with a soft kiss that has your fingers fisting in his shirt.

“Do you have a tool belt?” you ask him when he finally pulls away.

“I do.”

“You should do it shirtless. So, you don’t get too warm.”

“So shirtless with my toolbelt. Anything else?”

You tap your chin playfully.

“Your dark wash jeans. The really fitted ones.”

“Is this some secret fantasy you have?”

You bury your face in his neck and mumble something incoherent.

“What was that?” he chuckles.

“It wasn’t until you said you could build me shelves!” you squeak.

“This is gonna be fun,” he simpers as he releases you to grab the plants again. “Let’s go check out.”

As promised, later that day Bucky shows up at your place in his dark jeans with a tool belt hanging low on his hips.

“Why are you wearing a shirt?” you ask.

He covers his laugh with a cough and grabs your waist, pulling you into his chest.

“I didn’t want to take the train shirtless.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You answer. “Right.”

He laughs. “Right.”

“I know you think this is hilarious, but you don’t understand…”

His expression softens. “What do you mean doll?”

“It means a lot to me that you’d do this, and you support my love of plants.”

“Of course I would. And of course I do. And you know I love plants too.”

“I know, but even if you didn’t I just know you’d do it anyway.”

He brushes his lips lightly across yours, holding your gaze as he whispers, “I would.”

“Can we take this off now?” you ask as your fingers slide down his chest and under the hem of his shirt.

“Sure.”

He kicks the door shut with his booted foot and lifts his arms above his head. You start to peel the shirt from his body, the action deliberate as you watch every inch of his toned stomach come into view.

After staring at the distinct V shape at his hips you focus on the dark trail of hair just under his belly button then practically let out a moan when his abs flex and move as he shimmies.

“This is like porn,” you sigh dreamily.

That makes him laugh and he gets tangled in the sleeves of his tee.

You keep staring, enjoying all the shifting muscles of his torso.

“Little help here doll face.”

“Oh!...sorry Buck!”

You slip the shirt over his head and drop it to the floor, letting your fingertips run along the smooth metal of his left arm.

“There. Perfect.”

He takes you in his arms and spins you around until your back is against the door. Trapping you in place he settles both hands on either side of your head.

“You’re distracting,” he murmurs. “Not sure I can get to work just yet.”

“Me?” you ask incredulously. “Look at you.”

Your finger slips into the waistband of his jeans, and you give him a sharp tug, drawing him closer.

His hips press into your stomach, and you feel the hard length of him. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth and toy with the button of his jeans before running your fingers along the leather of his tool belt.

The muscles in his stomach tense every time your skin touches his and you watch his dark eyelashes flutter against his cheeks with his barely controlled restraint.

His toolbelt drops to the floor with a loud thud and you pull the zipper of his jeans down.

“Doll,” he hisses when your hand slips inside his jeans.

You slide down to your knees, taking his jeans with you.

“Fuck you look so perfect on your knees for me,” he grits out.

You stretch out along the hard wood floor and press yourself against him.

Bucky’s fingers soothingly slide up and down your arm, his eyes closed and his breathing finally even.

“You need to make me a list of all the things you want me to build,” he says.

You laugh as you twirl a strand of his hair between your fingers. “It will be the longest list ever.”

“It better be,” he says, finally opening his eyes and pinning them on you. “I’ll building anything and everything if we can start every project like that.”

You kiss his neck, working your way to his chin and then along his jaw before climbing on top of him and kissing his lips.

“Deal!”

His hands are soft as they reverently trace the curve of your hips and waist. “You know what we still have to do?” he asks.

“What?” you smile.

“Name all the new plants!”

Your smile widens. “WE DO!”

You kiss him again and reluctantly move off him so he can get up. Once you’re both dressed, Bucky sans shirt of course, he starts working on the shelves.

You hold up one of your new plants, Devil’s ivy, and twirl the pot between your fingers, gently fingering the leaves.

“What do you think Buck?” you ask. “How about…Spaghetti!”

He looks up from the wood in his hands and nods with a smile. “That’s a good one, especially for the ivy.”

As soon as he finishes the thought his stomach promptly grumbles, making you both laugh.

“I’m just going to name these last two then I’ll start dinner…how does spaghetti sound?”

“Perfect doll face. It sounds perfect.”

[nocasdatsgay]

Well That Was Unexpected: A Spring Time Affairs Prequel

Rating: T+ | Word Count: 1843 | Pairing: Elain/Lucien, Tamlin/Elain, Tamlin/Flora

Masterlist | Read on AO3

Content Warnings: sexual tension, innuendo, fluff and humor

Summary: Elain works up the courage to ask Tamlin if she can… join him but things do not go according to plan.

Author’s Note: This was supposed to be a smut fic but my brain had other plans. For @polysjmweek Day 2: Reveal

Tagging: @ninthcircleofprythian @ysmtttty @daycourtofficial @hieragalbatorixdottir @secret-third-thing @thisblogisaboutabook @acourtofladydeath @pit-and-the-pen

“You can just ask him.”

Lucien said it like it was simple. Like one went around asking their mate’s dearest friend, a High Lord of the court they lived in, if they could- Elain flushed and shooed the thought away. She got up from the settee in their small study to pace. Lucien turned in his chair and watched her with that knowing twinkle in his eye. Infurating male.

“You asked Jurian, what’s the difference?” His eye whirled and clicked. Studying her every move.

“That was a long time ago. And I was drunk,” she replied curtly.

But she was sober when they went to bed together. For what he lacked in manners, he made up for with that wicked tongue of his. Her scent sweetened at the memory. Gods, Elain hated being a fae. Her scent gave away her thoughts and feelings without her permission. Three decades as a fae and she still wasn’t used to it.

“I can get you drunk.” Lucien gave her that suggestive, sultry tone that made her feel things. “He just won’t believe me if I’m the one asking.”

“How do you know he will even agree?” Elain worried her lip with her teeth. Her mind started to run away from her. “I know he knows about our arrangement. But what if I upset him?”

Because I am Feyre’s sister, was left unsaid.

She was starting to wonder if maybe she should go live in another court to do this. Lucien agreed if she was going to accept the bond, she needed to be less green, as he put it. She had been with one man before she was fae. It wasn’t even that good, now that she knew what good sex felt like. Tamlin knew about their- arrangement. They disclosed it early on. Last thing they needed was Tamlin thinking she was cheating on Lucien.

“You will not upset him.” Lucien scoffed and turned back in his chair to go back to sorting his letters. “If anything he’ll be too flustered to think.”

“It’s probably not a good idea.”

At least that’s what she was trying to convince herself.

“You didn’t have this issue in the Winter Court.”

“Because they weren’t your friends!” Elain made a frustrated noise and flopped back onto the settee. “I will never see that man- male from Winter again. Or the one in the bar at Summer. Maybe that’s enough and I stop this all together.”

“I’ll make a deal.” He turned again to face her. “If you work up the courage to kindly ask Tam to bed you-“ he paused, thinking. “Actually. Never mind.”

“Excuse me?” She frowned.

“I realized you obviously won’t do it. So never mind what I was thinking.”

“Are you calling me a coward?” Elain said harshly.

“You are anything but a coward, lady.” Lucien smiled.

She squinted at him. “If he beds me better than you I don’t want to hear you complain.”

Lucien’s gaze turned dark and sultry, that fire making itself known in a flash. “No one beds you better than me.”

“Hmm, we will see about that.” Elain stood up, straightening out her skirts and went to the door.

“Going somewhere?” Lucien called out innocently.

“You know I am.”

She went straight to the High Lord’s study. Lucien had lit a fire under her feet with his dismissal of her courage. She would ask Tamlin. He would say no and that would be the end of it. She stopped at the door before pausing. Squaring her shoulders she knocked on the door and opened it when she heard him thankfully call out. She stepped in and all her senses went out the window.

Tamlin was writing, leaned forward onto the desk. Gods he was attractive. She didn’t really remember the incident when they first met. She felt wrong at first, for finding him attractive when they moved to Spring. He was Feyre’s ex lover. Part of the events that lead to Elain being fae. But getting to know him and help with his court- he was kind and hardworking. She’d forgiven him a few years ago fully. His voice cut through her thoughts.

“Elain, can I help you?” He stopped writing, cutting his eyes up to her.

“You’re working awfully late.” She forced a polite smile.

Forced because she was acting like the low rumble of his voice didn’t roll through her and leave her aching.

“Trade doesn’t negotiate itself.” He went back to writing, unfazed by her presence.

“That is true.”

The door clicked as she slowly pulled shut. Her heart was pounding in her ears. Oh she was foolish. Now closed in with the object of her- dare she say desire? Her feet were becoming cold quickly. The moment the door clicked shut, his eyes jumped back up to her by the door way. He slowly sat up and placed his pen down.

“Does Lucien know you’re here?” He seemed uncertain as if realizing finally he was alone with Elain.

“He’s the one that sent me.”

Tamlin’s gaze raked over her. She didn’t care if her smell sweetened, that it gave her away. Her own gaze dropped to his chest. Unlike most fae, there was hair on his chest. Blond with a hint of brown. Elain was still learning to love Lucien but his chest was bare like most fae. It was the humanity in her that made her crave it. That's what she told herself anyway.

He hummed, a deep rumble in his throat that took her breath away. “And what exactly did he need?”

“It isn’t about what he needs. I- I wanted to ask you something.”

She could do this.

“Then what do you need, my lady?”

Maybe she could not do this. He had asked her with pure concern in his voice. His brows slightly furrowed and his head tilted in a way it normally was when he listened to someone speak. Here she was about to ask him a wanton question.

“You.”

Her face flushed. She hadn’t meant to say it like that. The air shifted and Tamlin no longer looked concerned. Elain felt weak in her knees watching push out his chair and stand. He came around the desk slowly with the authority of a High Lord.

“I’m not sure this would be a good idea.”

He said it but he still stepped to her. She could smell him as much as he could probably smell her. She was still staring at his chest, the V of his shirt dipping between his pectorals in a way that would have Elain on her knees if it was a woman- female. She hadn’t broached the subject of females with Lucien yet. But that was a worry for another day. He stopped in front of her.

“And yet?”

He looked conflicted. His smell said one thing, his face another.

“Elain, I am flattered and I am not opposed. I am deeply not opposed. However-“

A knock startled them both. Tamlin’s eyes widened and he said a word Elain didn’t know. She assumed it was a curse. With a flick of his hand their scents were glamoured and the air cleared away. The door opened before he even told them to come in.

“Tamlin, I know you’re not-“ The female came in and stopped with widened eyes.

It was Flora.

Elain had seen her about and spoke with her on occasion. When she and Lucien first moved to Spring, he told her about his… dalliances with her. Elain didn’t hold any ill will. Flora was beautiful. Definitely one of the women- females, Elain would get on her knees for if she ever got the chance. The shock on Flora’s face faded and was replaced with- an air of sadness?

“Am I interrupting?” Her light eyes bounced between Tamlin and Elain.

“I was just seeing her out.” Tamlin’s tone was strained.

Elain watched the two silently stare at each other, unmoving. Her eyes dropped to the dress Flora was wearing. Flowly and just revealing enough in the cut of the neckline. Nothing like she’d seen Flora wear around court. Elain glanced at Tamlin- who looked like he was caught doing something he shouldn’t. Elain put on her best smile.

“Lucien had questions about some correspondence with Summer,” she said, patting Tamlin on the arm. “He’s behind in his letters so I told him I would come and ask.”

“Oh,” Flora replied. “I can come back later.”

“No.” Tamlin’s panic started them both. “I have given Elain the information. I’m free to help you with whatever you need.”

Flora flushed.

Elain took that as her cue to leave.

“Thank you, Tamlin. We will see you at dinner! Flora, a pleasure as always.” Elain hurried out the door and down the hall.

She did not stop until she reached her and Lucien’s chambers. Lucien startled on the settee when she entered. She paid no mind to the fact his shirt was missing or the state of his trousers.

“Did he say no?” Lucien’s eye clicked madly as it ran over her body. “Why are you glamoured?”

“There’s been a development.” Elain felt suddenly flustered with a warmth in her chest. She stared at her mate clearly for the first time since she came in.

“Gods Lucien, were you?” She flushed at the idea of what Lucien might have been doing while she was gone and why. “I don’t have time for this. He said he wanted to but then Flora interrupted.”

“Flora?” His eye clicked again. “My Flora?”

“Not yours anymore,” Elain laughed. “Lu, I think they’re,” Elain still had trouble being crude so she instead said, “I think they’re seeing each other. Or they’re heading in that direction.”

“No. Tam would have told me.” Elain gave him a look and he frowned. “Don’t look at me like that! I asked just two weeks ago if he was open to sharing you and he said yes.”

“You asked him?” Elain shrieked.

“I wasn’t going to send you to him without at least ensuring you were both open to it.” He shook his head. “You’re certain it looked like that?”

“He glamoured our smell. Flora looked genuinely upset that I was alone with him. She was wearing a dress cut down to here.” Elain pointed exactly how far down that cut went on herself. “He was telling me he wasn't opposed to me but he got cut off by her knocking when he went to say why.”

Lucien looked off thinking. Then her gorgeous meddlesome mate slowly grinned.

“We will invite her to dinner tomorrow.” There was a flame in his eye as he looked at her, and the kind of glow to him that made her weak. “If Tam is truly interested, he’ll be a bumbling idiot the whole time.”

As predicted, Tamlin was indeed tripping over his own tongue to the point Elain was kicking Lucien under the table to stop him from laughing. She and her mate left dinner to start a new plan: help Tamlin win over Flora.

[shesjustanothergeek]

The Gods We Can Touch

Archmaester Gyldayn’s Testimonies of Princess Aelora Targaryen’s Youth

Masterlist of Series

Summary: The older twin of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, you were a picture of the maiden, untouched and untainted by man's sins. At least, that was what Alicent Hightower believed when she held you in her arms moments after her old friend's labors. You were her shining light, her dream. Though you were never hers, she believed you were meant to be.

What will become of you as time passes and the Queen's shining light grows within the blackened darkness? Will her eldest son's morbid fascination with the light burn the realm? Or will her second son's obsession with the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen change the course of the Seven Kingdoms as we know it?

Author's Note: This is kind of a filler chapter until I can finish chapter 7. I was planning on either putting this at the end of chapter 6 or the beginning of chapter 7, but here is as good as any. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I'll be able to finish chapter 7 by next Sunday. Thank you for your support and patience. Love y'all! (⁠*⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠/⁠～⁠♡

Chapter Warnings: mentions of childhood SA, mental illness, suicidal ideations, Targaryen queerness.

Princess Rhaenyra’s eldest child blossomed into a captivating presence at Dragonstone, earning admiration from those close to her but invoking fear and ire in those who dared to cross her. Known for her unpredictable temperament, she would fall into fits of anger and sorrow, during which her judgment would become clouded, leading to subsequent regret. In bouts of profound grief, she sought solace in Aegon’s Garden with the company of flora and fauna, finding peace and consolation by tending to the roses and lilacs and fashioning delicate flower crowns for her siblings to wear.

When Princess Aelora was approximately ten and two, eyewitnesses observed her standing on the balcony railing for an extended period during one of her episodes, seemingly trance-like. Despite numerous attempts to persuade her to step down, she adamantly refused, stating her desire for a better view of the landscape. In response to this concerning behavior, Princess Rhaenyra took the drastic measure of ordering the balcony doors to be permanently sealed shut. The exact cause of her distressing episodes remains shrouded in mystery. While many attributed it to the infamous Targaryen madness in her bloodline, the Fool Mushroom believed it was linked to a specific incident involving Prince Aegon during her early years.

Late one night, he claims to have spied on Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon in their bed chambers on Dragonstone. He overheard the Princess confiding in her husband about her eldest’s behavioral problems and impulsivity. He alleges that she confessed to a rape committed by Prince Aegon on her daughter while they were living in King’s Landing. However, this information is heavily debated, as there has been no further mention in oral or written records.

When Princess Aelora reached ten and four, scandalous rumors began circulating on Dragonstone about her relationship with her twin brother, Prince Jacaerys. It was whispered that their stepfather went to her rooms after reports of suspicious sounds emerging from behind closed. Prince Daemon was rumored to have discovered the Prince in a compromising position between the legs of the Princess. In response to the gossip, Princess Rhaenyra sent her daughter to study abroad at the Citadel and in Dorne as a gesture of goodwill, hoping it would ease her troubled mind. This separation was particularly difficult for the twins, as it was the first time they had ever been apart. Prince Jacaerys was visibly upset during this time, spending hours upon end sulking inside his chambers and absconding his duties until Princess Aelora finally returned home once they both came of age.

Nevertheless, Princess Aelora radiated warmth and kindness to all she encountered. She was admired for her outgoing and naive nature, and she took great delight in her love for nature, herbalism, botany, and medical techniques gathered from her journeys around the realm. Her fondness for citrus plants was evident as she carried the sweet scent of the fruits wherever she roamed, though they were difficult to cultivate on Dragonstone’s soil. Adorned in her late father’s distinguished Velaryon blue, she was never seen without the elegance of pearls, aquamarine, topaz, and sapphire, with a delicate headpiece and veil enshrouding her dark, lustrous locks.

When eligible suitors ventured to Dragonstone intending to court Rhaenyra’s eldest daughter, she dismissively turned them away, leaving the cock hurt Lords to return home scorned. It was said that during a gathering of the court, Princess Aelora boldly declared that she harbored no yearning for a marital alliance, as she found solace in the enduring companionship of her beloved dragon Gaelithox and her loyal brother, firmly indicating that she had no intention of entering into matrimony.

IMO, the reader suffers from borderline personality disorder. People with BPD are often mistaken for having depression, but the main qualifier is periods of mania with impulsivity, which is more susceptible to hypersexuality and addictions. They're typically triggered by actual or perceived separations, disagreements, and rejections. Highly sensitive to abandonment and being alone, which brings about intense feelings of anger, fear, suicidal thoughts and self-harm, and very impulsive decisions. People with high-functioning BPD experience frequent negative thoughts, fear of rejection, and regret about expressing their feelings. I'm by no means a mental health expert. This is just my head cannon.

Masterlist of Series

Spotify Playlist

Jace and the reader fulfill the Targaryen queerness. Who would've thought? XD

Thank you for reading! (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

P.S. the reader wears what's called a French hood. I couldn't find one that matched her aesthetic unfortunately.

Tagged Peeps: @millies0bsimp, @britt-mf, @marvelescvpe, @haikyuusboringassmanager, @discofairysworld , @lottiemsgf , @nessjo , @fiction-fanfic-reader , @qvnthesia , @hotvillianapologist , @p45510n4f4shi0n, @theendlessvoidofdarkest , @readerselegance , @gothamgurl2024 , @aleemendoza2425-blog , @vaylint , @ln8118 , @prettyduckling22 , @primroseluna

Bold means I couldn't tag you for some reason :(

[potatoplace]

Bloom

Elain x Reader

kinktober day 4 | sex pollen, outdoor sex, dub con

kinktober masterlist | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: Your friend Elain wants to visit the first just outside of Velaris to sketch plants in their natural habitats, but her mate Lucien wants her to have someone else with her, in case anything dangerous comes nearby. You accompany her, making a day out of your time together. One of the plants she finds has a rather unexpected effect.

Warnings: dub con because it's sex pollen, kind of cheating but it's not really a choice, smut

Words: ~1.9k

Author's Note: this one isn't as long as I wanted it to be, but it's enough that I'm happy with it. I just really wanted to get something out for tonight! I hope you guys like this, there will be a second part later in the month featuring Lucien too ooooo~ enjoy!

18+ only pls

🤍🩷🤍🩷🤍

A knock on your front door drew you away from your book, and when you opened it you were delighted to see your friend, Elain.

"Elain, it's nice to see you! Come in," you said cheerily, stepping aside and letting her through the doorway. You closed the door behind you and followed Elain into your sitting room, where your book on magical theory was spread wide open.

"Good morning, Y/N, I was wondering if you'd like to walk in the forest with me? I want to go and sketch plants in their wild habitat, but Lucien doesn't want me to go into the forest alone..." Elain trailed off, making puppy dog eyes at you.

"I'd love to, 'Lain! Just let me get changed and pack some food for us, I'll meet you at your house in half an hour, if that works for you."

Elain beamed at you. "That works perfectly! I'll see you in a bit, Y/N." She left your house a moment later, and you turned to your kitchen.

Knowing Elain, the two of you would be out for most of the day. She tended to get lost in what she was doing, especially if it had to do with plants.

You packed your knapsack full of goodies- some berries, carrot sticks, jerky, and a croissant for each of you. You also made sure to tuck two waterskins inside.

Soon you were outside of Elain’s door, fist raised to knock when it swung inwards, revealing Elain, a satchel hung over her shoulder.

“Let’s go!” Elain said brightly, locking the door behind her. The two of you meandered through the streets of Velaris, making your way to the edge of the wards of the city. In a few minutes, you passed through the wards, the silky feel of magic slipping off of your body marking the spot.

The two of you chatted about random things as you walked, you told her of your most recent class with young fae, and how impatient they were with attempting to summon their magic. Elain talked about Lucien, and how protective he was becoming lately.

“It would bother me, if I didn’t find it so sweet,” Elain said dreamily, and you smiled.

“It’s nice to have someone looking out for you all the time, isn’t it?”

She nodded in agreement. “It really is, he just wants me to be safe-” Elain gasped. “Look at that! What pretty flowers!” She exclaimed, leading you by the hand to the edge of a small pond, and pointed at the bright pink flowers, growing on top of the water, leaves spread underneath them. “I haven’t seen it in any of my books of Night Court flora, I wonder what it’s called?”

“Hmm… I feel like I’ve seen it somewhere before,” you murmured, staring hard at the flowers while you wracked your brain. “Or it’s just pretty enough that I feel like I’ve seen it before.”

Elain had already sat down and was pulling a notebook out of her bag, along with a quill and pot of ink.

“Sketching this one?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

“Mhm. I’d also like to take a sample home, so I can see more of its characteristics up close.”

You nodded, though Elain’s eyes were either glued to the page in front of her or the flowers floating on the water. You joined her on the ground, pleasantly surprised at how soft it was from the thick carpeting of moss underneath you.

Your knapsack followed next, placed on the ground to your left. Laying down, you settled in to watch the trees shifting above you, their leaves swirling in the gentle breeze.

A time later, you weren’t sure how long, Elain gently poked you awake, her fingers meeting your side. You sat up slowly and yawned, then stretched your arms out. “All done?” You asked, blinking the sleep from your eyes.

“Yes, all but the sample,” Elain replied, her eyes meeting yours.

Those damn puppy dog eyes.

“You want me to go and grab one for you, don’t you?”

Elain smiled sheepishly and nodded. “If you wouldn’t mind, please.”

You shook your head in amusement. As though you would say no to her, when she still had some struggles with being in water. “Since you said please, I’ll do it for you.”

“Thank you so much!” Elain exclaimed, squeezing your arm gently and smiling at you.

“You owe me a coffee when we get home,” you said as you undid your laces and pulled your shoes off of your feet, then stood from your spot on the mossy ground. You undid the buttons on the back of your dress and let it fall off of your body, pooling at your feet.

When you dipped your toes into the pond, you were pleasantly surprised to find it a mild temperature- most waters in the Night Court were frigid year round, so this was a welcome change. You waded into the water, hesitating for a moment when it hit your waist.

“How’s the water?” Elain called out from the shore as your shoulders went under the surface of the water.

“Lovely!” You replied as you started to swim, making your way for the blooms in the middle of the water.

One was in your hand soon enough, plucked from its leaves. You did your best to keep it above water as you swim back to Elain. Once you were able to stand, you inspected the flower, mesmerized by the intricate swirls of a lighter shade of pink covering the petals. You took a small sniff of the flower, and stopped in your tracks.

It smelled amazing.

“‘Lain you have to smell this, mother above it’s heavenly!” You squealed, rushing through the water to reach her. You offered the bloom to her, which she took readily and lifted it to her nose, sighing happily at the scent.

“That smells so good!” Elain exclaimed, but you weren’t paying attention to what she was saying.

Because your body was on fire.

Desire had started licking its way from your core outwards, overtaking your senses within seconds of handing the flower over.

Your eyes locked onto Elain’s chest, so beautiful and soft and ready to-

Stop. She’s your friend.

You shut your eyes for a moment before they snapped open once more at the change in Elain’s scent, now mixed with desire.

Your eyes locked with hers for a moment before her brown orbs drifted lower… To your own chest, lingering there until a whine escaped your lips, drawing her gaze back to yours.

Your lips met a moment later, hers so plush and soft against yours you thought you could die from the feel of them. Elain’s hands were all over you, taking off your bra and tossing it to the side, her hands squeezing your breasts firmly. You broke away a moment later when her fingers pinched your nipples, a gasp tearing from your lips.

Your hands flew to the back of Elain’s dress, unbuttoning as many as you could before you started tugging the dress off her shoulders, revealing her pert breasts- bare already. The two of you were on each other again, tongues warring as you pushed her backwards, crawling on top of her where she was sprawled on the soft, mossy ground.

“Y/N,” she moaned as you separated, her hands looping over your shoulders. “Please…”

You could tell what she needed, just from her scent alone, and wasted no time in slinking down. You tugged her panties down quickly, your eyes locking on your prize.

Elain’s glistening pussy, so pink and pretty and all for you.

You positioned yourself between her thighs on your stomach, your arms wrapping underneath her thighs and keeping her spread wide.

The first lick was heaven, and the second even better, the sweet, honeyed taste of Elain’s arousal coating your tongue. You licked her clean before spreading her lips and tasting straight from the source, fucking your tongue into her hole as Elain’s hands grabbed your hair. She gently tugged you up so that your lips were hovering over her swollen clit. Your eyes met hers when you licked her bud the first time, a grin crossing your lips when her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she gasped softly.

Her heavy breaths were music to your ears, soft whines cutting through the haze of your thoughts and helping you to focus on feasting on the female below you.

Your hips were moving of their own accord, trying to find any friction to appease the aching heat between your own thighs. The urge to snake a hand between them was strong, but a particularly loud moan from Elain had your hand slipping out from underneath her and up instead, ghosting over the skin of her inner thigh before meeting her center, one finger sliding inside of her with ease.

Elain’s hips lifted off the ground a moment before settling back down, grinding into your finger. Her soft moan and hand pushing your head down had you wrapping your lips around her clit as you pushed a second finger inside, delighting in Elain’s breathy moans.

You pumped your fingers in and out, curling them into the spot that made Elain moan loudest as you sucked on her clit, moving faster when her thighs clamped down on your head, and a gentle scrape of your teeth was what pushed her over the edge, screaming out her climax into the forest air.

Her legs were shaking as you continued to work her, prolonging her pleasure until they fell to the side and her hands stopped pulling you closer and instead pushing you back slightly.

Your own hips were still rocking into the air, searching for friction that you couldn’t find in your current position. You rested your head on her right thigh, and your gaze slipped up Elain’s body, cataloguing the flush across her chest and the slight gleam of sweat on her skin before meeting her chocolate eyes. You bit your lip at the look in her eye, the hunger still burning within her.

“Y/N…” Elain said softly.

“Mm?”

“Lay back, love.” Elain’s voice was low, heady with desire as her hands pushed your shoulders gently, your body putty in her hands.

Her touch was like cool water over your skin, relieving the heat that had been building for so long now. You were laying on your back with Elain hovering between your thighs, her eyes locked with yours.

“‘Lain, please,” you begged, canting your hips up.

“Since you said please,” Elain said breathlessly, lowering her mouth to your pussy and keeping her eyes level with yours.

The first brush of her tongue against you was amazing, flashes of ice filling your veins, but the moment she had pulled away heat rushed back, worse than before, only abating with Elain’s touch.

“Fuck, ‘Lain,” you groaned, hands pawing at her shoulders. “Feels so good…”

Elain pulled away for a moment, saying “I know, love, just hang in… it feels a little better once you finish.”

You groaned at the thought, tugging her closer and she giggled in response.

“Be good, okay?” She asked, peering up at you from her lashes, and you nodded your head.

You could do that. You could be good, to keep Elain’s mouth on you.

You will be good for her.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff

[1000plants]

Holidays - Christmas

Bucky Barnes x reader (GN)

Summary: An accidental series centered around the various holidays with my beloved Bucky Barnes  

Warnings- Alcohol/drinking/intoxication, swearing, Soft!Bucky (a warning bc oh god I love him he's a cutie patootie), mentions/themes of self-doubt and self deprecation. 

Word count- 3.6 k (WAYYYY longer than I meant it to be, oops!)

Author's Note- Reading pt 1 is important (I recommend a reread)  :)

“GN” for this part is heavily masc leaning (all my gn is written from a male perspective, but there are more tones of “male” in this chapter imo) 

!!!Not proof read, if it’s shit just lmk!!!

Colored text are lyrics from different Christmas songs btw

Masterlist

Read Pt 1 HERE

✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°

Sleigh bells ring, are you listening?

You liked Christmas a lot more than Thanksgiving. Sitting on the couch of one of the many lounges in Stark towers, you had a cup of spiced apple cider in one hand and were reaching for a blanket with the other. Mid Friday afternoons were meant to be wasted on doing absolutely nothing… especially when you didn't have a single mission to prepare for.

In the lane, snow is glistening.

With a week until Christmas, Tony had made it his life's goal to make the tower wreak of the holidays. Every room had been decorated with some form of reds, greens, golds, or silvers. Some rooms got a more childish makeover, felt Santas and reindeers, with big faux snowflakes. And the kitchen was a simple winter wonderland, silvers and whites with twinkling fairy lights.

It was truly breathtaking. You’d give Tony that…

The lounge you were in right now was reminiscent of the classic holidays. A large, deep green pine tree stood tall in the corner, adorned with dark red ornaments and cranberry/popcorn garland. The electric fireplace was crackling softly as the TV played the holiday songs you queued up.

You were curled up on the couch, a fluffy blanket draped around your form as you sipped the hot cider. It was a moment of peacefulness that you rarely got to feel anymore. Though, in just a few hours you'd need to go get ready.

A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight,

Of course, no holiday would be complete without a famous Tony Stark party. This was the only one you would have to drag yourself to this season. The big SHIELD party with all the agents, Tony's staff, and more figure heads than you could count. It was going to be 

Honestly, you liked the big parties. They were easy to fade into. Get a few drinks, talk to just enough people, and get lost in the vibes… So, you weren't exactly dreading it.

What you were dreading was leaving the room. Well, no, dreading wasn't the right word… Tony had hung up mistletoe on each entry way in the building, including bedrooms. 

It was at the Thanksgiving party that Bucky told you he liked mistletoe, you had assumed he was flirting with you, obviously. But once you actually saw mistletoe, you felt the nerves explode in your stomach. 

Did he even remember telling you that? Both of you had drunk a decent amount of alcohol. You wouldn't blame him if he had just said that to fill space, it would hurt but you wouldn't blame him.

Dreading wasn't the right word because though you skirted past the flora at inhumane speed, you had a hope lingering in your bones that he'd pop up. That Bucky would point it out and make the move…

But that wasn't his style, and you knew it. Bucky wouldn't wait for some stupid plant to dictate what he did and with whom, if he wanted to kiss you he would. He was bold, took what he wanted, confident and unapologetic. Everything that drew you towards him were the same things that confirmed your worst fears.

You swallowed another gulp of your drink, gripping the ceramic mug a little tighter. It echoed the burn in a similar way  to the alcohol at the Thanksgiving party, but didn't leave you feeling lightheaded. 

He doesn't want to kiss me, you mentally admitted.

Walking in a winter wonderland

˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧

If you could’ve gone in your pajamas, you would've. Dressing up to the nines was never your favorite, sure it was fun for a little, but once the sweat seeped into the fabric of your shirt you lost interest. 

I’ll have a blue Christmas without you,

Still, you knew once you just got there and found a few people to mingle with, you would be fine. You'd have fun! You’d sing and party! You’d drink a lot!! 

With a heavy heart, and one last longing glance back at your large bed with the welcoming blankets and book on the nightstand… you fixed the cuffs of your emerald green button up and exited to the hallway. 

The lights had all been dimmed, a reminder that you were the last person showing up for this thing. Did anyone notice you weren't there yet? The party really only started an hour ago… a quick peek at your smart watch told you no. No alerts, no texts, no missed calls… not even a Team message.

 I’ll be so blue just thinking about you,

“I didn't mean to be the last one,” You mumbled to yourself, pulling out your phone to check the time once more (and to verify you had absolutely no alerts). As you walked a little faster to the elevators, the silence in the tower was eerily welcoming. With the decorations about, you felt like the creature that stirred in all of the old Christmas tales. Walking purposefully to keep the noise to a minimum reminded you of all the times you’d sneak around on Christmas eve to see if you could catch Santa or something similar.

The main rooms aside from the bedroom hallways pulled you from the distant memories. Carpets that switched to off-white tiles made you subconsciously straighten your back and stand a smidge taller. 

Your shoes sounded loud on tile, forgoing the muted walking in favor of speed. By habit, you hug the edge of the frame as you step into the elevator, avoiding the mistletoe that hangs above it.

How many times had you passed that while with Bucky? They had all been hung up for weeks and surely the two of you had been under them together at some point? Oh, God… Bucky. He was definitely at the party. Not that you didn't want him to be there! But since you’d been in your head all day about him, he was becoming someone you didn't really want to see. 

 Decorations of red on a green christmas tree,

As the elevator rose, so did the tense knot in your stomach. Those same nerves that had you fiddling with your buttons and rings were now transforming into something arguably worse. Hunger.

Breathing out a tense breath, you allowed a smile to pull on your lips as you remembered Tony’s promise to the team- his bribe to Steve to let him even throw this thing- Food and drinks from Asguard. 

The food wasn't anything truly remarkable, it was like Midguard food but with more complex flavors. Things that lingered longer, tasted bolder, but all in all the same. What was remarkable was the drinks. That shit could get the super soldiers wasted, so it would most definitely spice up your night as well.

 Wont be the same, dear, if you’re not here with me,

˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧

Oh yeah! You chuckled mentally, taking another hearty sip of your spiked cider, Asguardian alcohol is just what I needed…

The party was loud- very loud- you could hardly hear yourself breathing over the Christmas carols. Though, the carols were becoming more and more sparse as the night progressed. Interrupted with more club music and modern beats as the hoard of dancers decided they couldn't effectively boogie down to O Holy Night.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas,

Cowards, all of them, you thought to yourself as another remix of some pop song thumped from the speakers. You sighed and rolled your neck, working out the kinks as you tried to shift away from the bar. Your face was feeling warm and the liquid gold of alcohol in your hands wasn't going to get spilt just because of an intoxicated person.

You were on your 4th(?) drink? But this was the first one that was Asguardian. Honestly? You probably should've just been doing this all night! It hit your stomach lightly and was smooth going down, the type of alcohol that would definitely mess you up if you weren't careful… which was probably why they were only letting people only have one drink.

“Woah, ok, I think I’m getting deja vu,” A deep voice chuckles as a familiar man slides up next to you. You hadn't been avoiding him, honestly surprised you’d only seen him just now. His voice sounded wiggly as he placed a hand on your lower back. Mmm, you might be a bit more intoxicated than you thought you'd get… A spark of heat shot through your body at his touch, your spine stiffened as you tilted your head towards him.

Let your heart be light

Has he been looking for you? It might just be sudden wishful thinking, but you couldn't deny the giddiness that fluttered through your veins at the thought. Thanks to the only lighting being strobing red and green fairy lights you really couldn't clearly see his face, but his expressions were always something of an open book to you. Bucky initially held a carefree grin, but after just a few seconds of dizzying eye contact, he looked concerned.

When you didn't reply (instead just clumsily nudging his hand away from your body), he leaned a little closer to ask, “How many drinks have you had tonight?” The playful tone mostly dropped from his voice and replaced instantly with a deep seeded concern.

Dazzling. 

From now on, our troubles will be out of sight,

You noticed he had shifted his arm to be just enough between you and some person who was dancing quite wildly. You felt warm, perspiration on the nape of your neck and lower back. The dancing bodies and close confinements weren't helping at all.

“Uhm,” You mumbled as you looked towards the bar. Your brows pulled together as you tried to count the cups you had gone through. “Fffffour….” you slowly said, uncertainty laced in your voice. Your tongue blindly ran over your lower lip, like you were subconsciously trying to remember the taste of all the drinks you had previously consumed.

Though your tongue felt heavy, you'd argue you weren't drunk. Grinning as you looked down at your drink, you would definitely be drunk after this one. Almost instantly, you found yourself forgetting he was in front of you.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas,

“That… doesn't sound right,” Bucky muttered, a wary smile ghosting over his face. His voice cut through your haze, pulling your attention back to him. He gently reached out to tap the side of your cup, the iced brown liquid sloshing slightly, “I think you've had a bit much, hm?”

You wrinkled your nose and sniffed at his declaration, “Four isn't much,” you argued.

“And,” You  quickly add, leaning towards him as a smile pulls on your lips, “This is my first one with the good alcohol.”

You notice his lack of drink, and his demeanor is far more sober than you would've expected. In fact, you don't think he drank at all tonight. He mirrored your grin, sucking in air through his teeth as he nodded down to your cup once more.

“Mh, I don't think you need the good alcohol,” He gently teases, "You're plenty drunk as is.”

“Youre not drunk at all,” You counter, his presence was more sobering to you than water was. It was that same feeling of cold water that vividly lives in your mind ever since the Thanksgiving party. You knew why he made you feel sweaty yet freezing all at once, and you briefly wondered if he felt the same.

“Told you I'm not a day drinker,” He says with a sigh, shrugging casually. He gently grabbed your wrist, loose enough that you could pull away if you wanted. When he knew you weren't going to shove him off again, he guided you towards one of the bar stools. 

Make the yuletide gay,

You sat on the raised stool, just a hair taller than Bucky now if you sat up straight. The ache in your feet appeared as you finally took your weight off of them.

“... it's 11 pm,” you chuckle as you set your chin in your hand, propping yourself on the bar. Your other hand idly played with the lip of your cup.

Bucky drew you in, he always did. The thoughts of drowning out your feelings with drinks tonight flitted quickly away. It was easier tonight to silence all the noise in the room. The music, people, and noise was all just clutter in the way of Bucky.

“Yeah, on a FriDAY,” He replied quickly with a lighthearted eyeroll. Shaking his head with a faux disappointed expression.

You loudly snort and lightly shove his arm at his stupid pun. You don't think you’d ever heard him make a joke that wasn't dry humor or a cleverly worded insult. It was like a breath of fresh air, and you could tell that it was new for him too. Though, the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes was quickly brought back to concern and care. 

From now on our troubles will be miles away,

Your conversation for the next half hour was lighthearted; pointing out those who looked out of place as the night progressed, finding a team member who was getting a little too into the holiday spirit, and those who were very much not enjoying the spirit. Bucky slowly moved a bit closer to you as you talked, close enough that you wanted to believe he felt the same way.

Though the conversation was what you truly needed tonight, your drink hadn't gone untouched. Drinking it a little faster than the others that you had objectively nursed throughout the night. The alcohol definitely hit you harder, but you still felt as tipsy as when you started. By Bucky’s wry looks and the slow build in gentleness of his words, it was clear you were more wasted than you'd ever been around him before. 

Here we are, as in olden days,

Happy golden days of yore,

˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧

Though the years I’ve moved a lot,

“I thought you said Christmas was your favorite holiday?” You mumble to Bucky, sipping from the cup of water he had given you once he walked you back to the main kitchen.

It was dark in the kitchen, only the silver of the moon reflecting off the snow provided light in the room. The way it caught the silver tinsel that adorned the cabinets made it look like snow was falling inside as the specks of light reflected off of it and onto the walls. 

“It is,” he admits with a small nod. He had been leaning against the countertop with both forearms while he played with some of the fake snow fabric that sat under a tiny ceramic neighborhood, “Well, kind of…”

Different doors with different locks,

“Kind of?” you echo as you arch an inquisitive brow. You gulped down the last bit of water in your cup, holding it out to him to be refiled once more. You bite back a burp that rumbled up your throat, stomach agitated at the water as it mixed with the alcohol.

“Mostly a fan of the mistle toe,” he reminded you, glancing up at a sprig that hung above the door frame just a few feet away. He did not look at it long, the quiet hiss of the faucet running as he filled your cup once more. He slid it towards you, “Last one, I promise, then I'll let you sleep,” he murmured.

Your grumbles died on your tongue as you forced yourself to take another sip, "Didn't take you as a sap for that kind of tradition,” you honestly tell him. Just a few hours ago you would've scolded yourself for saying that without second thought- no - you wouldn't have even let the words leave your lips. 

“Wasn’t about tradition, I just never found a good time to kiss you,” he immediately replies. You paused, looking up at him and meeting his light blue eyes. If you were any more sober, you probably would've become instantly flustered. Perhaps laugh it off and deny it. 

But somehow Christmas always finds me,

But you weren't sober. And you were a little sick of waiting.

“You can kiss me now.” 

Your voice didn't sound like your own. Though you felt confident, feeling like you had nothing to lose, your voice was a timid whisper. Your tongue felt heavy again, and the turmoil in your stomach only grew as your mouth worked faster than your brain.

It’s been a while since I wished,

But Bucky only grinned. He shook his head ‘no’ as he sighed. He stood up and peaked at your cup of water, not much had really been drunk.

“I'm not going to kiss you when you're drunk,” He whispers, taking the cup from you and dumping it down the sink when he pieced together he'd already gotten you to drink all the water he could.

“I'm not drunk” you denied, letting him gently usher you towards your room. Though, your stumbling steps and spinning vision told you otherwise.

For roller blades and pixie sticks,

“You wont remember this in the morning," He teased. The hint of disappointment in his voice wasn't missed by you, “That is enough to tell me you're too drunk.”

Once you made it to your room in one piece, you leaned heavily against your door frame. The welcoming scent of pine and the warm reds of your bed sheets called to you. Only making the fog of sleepiness thicker.

“What if I do remember?” you whispered, face falling as you tilted your head to the side.

There wasn't mistletoe above your door. You noticed it almost immediately when decorations had been put up. Well, in all fairness, no one had it above their bedroom doors, but right now you were extremely disappointed.

“Then we'll find some mistletoe.”

But somehow, Christmas always finds me

˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧

Is it too late, too late? To let you know,

Your head only lightly ached the next morning. Pounding back another two cups of water the moment you woke up and mentally thanking Bucky for making you drink last night.

Right…

Last night…

Had… had he really said that? Or was your brain just that desperate for a sappy hallmark-esq Christmas moment?

Well, there was really only one thing you could do.

You did not spare yourself a second glance as you left your room, you already knew what you must've looked like. Hair sticking up in every direction, sleep still in your eyes, shirt crumpled from sleeping like a log.

I can pass it off as hungover, you tell yourself, hardly paying attention as you shuffle to the kitchen. It was early enough that the place was still quiet, a chill in the air from a cracked open window that made you shiver. Everyone else probably drank way more than you did, and they didn't have a super soldier mothering them to drink water directly afterwards.

I can’t quite escape,

Blinking and adjusting to the brightness of the kitchen, you scowled as another gust of wind blew through, Just be vague, but not too vague, you thought as you struggled to pull the window shut.

“Got it?” Bucky asked as he stood from the table, he was sitting close enough to the wall that you hadn't seen him there. His sudden appearance startled a response out of you, pulling your arms back to your body as you jumped slightly.

“I remember,” you quickly blurt out, arms falling to your sides.

You felt stupid as you just stood there, both of you looking at each other for a few silent moments.

How much I need you,

“You… remember last night?” Bucky asks, voice emphasising ‘night’ as he pushes away from the table and walks towards you carefully. 

The way he looked you over made panic settle back in your bones. He was just taking care of you, you were misremembering things, you were just drunk and now you're just desperate.

“Yeah, last night…” you dumbly agree. “Or, I at least hope I do” was silently said.

You’re walkin’ towards me now,

“How much water did I make you drink?” He asks, voice low. It was just so that he didn't wake up anyone else. He probably doesn't want to be too loud since everyone else is also hungover…

“Four. One for each drink I had,” I sound stupid, I probably look stupid too, “But I didn't finish the last one.”

Bucky nodded at you, the small smile that pulled on his lips made your mind go blank. God, you'd do anything to see him smile like that all the time.

“And?” He prompted. With each step closer he took towards you your heart hammered louder and louder. How did he look so put together in the mornings? Like he's been awake for hours… Gosh, he looks great all the time-

What am I gonna say? Push my pride aside,

“And… there's mistletoe,” you mumble, finding your voice with only minor struggle. You didn't have to look to your right to know there was a small sprig of the plant pinned to the covered support beam of the ceiling. You had memorized where all of them were, as to be always close to them but never directly under them.

“There’s mistletoe,” Bucky whispered. And in a moment his hand gently cupped the side of your face as he kissed you. His head tilted to the side as his lips were pressed firmly against yours. They were soft as he gently pulled your body closer to him, your own hand falling to his waist and the other grabbing his shoulder.

When I close my eyes, It’s just you and I,

You didn't know how long you were there with him, though you knew you kissed him back instantly. The other thing you definitely knew was that this moment, disorderly standing in the kitchen that was overly decked out in whites and silvers, you weren't going to be forgetting any time soon.

Hell, now Christmas is your favorite holiday.

Well, mostly the mistletoe.

Here under the mistletoe

[kikyoupdates]

Changing Plotlines ⭑˚💞⭑ 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, isekai

A desperate cry on your deathbed leads to you being given a fresh start at life. You're overjoyed at having finally obtained a healthy body and a real chance at living normally, only to discover that you've been transported into a yandere game, where danger lurks at every corner. Determined to protect your new life at any cost, you vow to stay as far away from the major characters of the game as possible. But things don't always go as planned.

⊱ CASSIUS CROWE, 22

⊱ Lizbell, 24

⊱ SERGEI GARIN, 26

⊱ LAWRENCE FLEMING, 20

⊱DOMINIC, 25

⊱ FLORA TILLBERRY, 19

⊱ THERESA SIMMONS, 20

⊱ ZODIN

⊱ CEDRIC LIGHTSTEEL, 23 

⊱ TRISTON VON HERSCH, 25

⊱ CYRUS FLEMING, 46

⊱ EDITH FLEMING, 39 

⊱ OSCAR TILLBERRY, 49

⊱ FRIEDRICH BEAUFORT, 27

⊱ GLENN SAMUELS, 29 

⊱ CELINE EGERTON, 21

⊱ ELEANOR LIGHTSTEEL, 42 

⊱ FELIX LIGHTSTEEL, 15 

⊱ GORDON LIGHTSTEEL, 44

Read the first chapter here! Or, read all the available chapters on Quotev!

⊱.⋅follow + post notifications on for story update announcements or join the author's discord!⋅.⊰

main masterlist ♡ story masterlist

[fairytales-and-folklore]

Thank You For Finding Me

The Owl House » Huntlow

Title: Thank You For Finding Me

Author: fairytalesandfolklore

Fandom: The Owl House (Masterlist)

Relationship: Hunter | The Golden Guard x Willow Park

AO3 Rating: Teen & Up (a complete collection of author's notes, inspiration credits, content warnings and tags can be found on AO3)

Summary: One sunlit afternoon perched on the precipice between summer and autumn, Hunter sits in his woodland workshop at the edge of the forest, contemplating a cutting of freshly-harvested palistrom wood, deep in conversation with a gravestone bearing the likeness of a little red cardinal, a garland of vines and vibrant purple flowers draped across its shoulders like a witch's wool cloak, the words thank you for finding me — H. carved across its front.

Hunter barely has a moment to close his eyes and state his deepest wish, before the little cutting of palistrom wood springs to life, chirping wildly as she stretches and flutters her wings, deep royal blue paired with stripes of crisp black and white, soft as silk as they brush against Hunter's fingers. She blinks, bright golden eyes staring up at him with a look of fond curiosity, before flitting to the space just above her carver's shoulder, where a faint silhouette of a bright red cardinal perches, gazing reverently at his old friend. Take care of him for me, he tells her with a soft, wistful warble. Take good care of our boy.

Read On AO3 | Read On Tumblr:

With Belos defeated once and for all, and the Collector, forever changed and returned home to their siblings among the stars, life goes on in the Boiling Isles, enduring even through the harshest of storms.

Just like Hunter.

He's been through his fair share of wear and tear, body riddled with the scars to prove it. But still, he endures. Grieves. Heals. Builds a life for himself out of everything he never thought he'd be allowed to have. Does exactly what he promised he would do in his big fuck you speech to his former uncle.

The moment class is back in session, Hunter enrolls at Hexside as a regular student (well, maybe not regular — he does end up graduating at the top of his class as a growledictorian, after all) and plays flyer derby alongside his captain-slash-girlfriend. Yeah, he's got a girlfriend now. No big deal. (It's a very big deal. Darius teases him relentlessly.)

He gets asked to his very first Grom by his captain-slash-girlfriend, carnivorous flowers only breaking through a few layers of skin as they spring out of his locker early one morning a week out from the dance.

"Hey, stop biting my boyfriend!" a familiar voice calls out from over his shoulder that, even months down the line, still manages to make a blush burst across his cheekbones like he's just swallowed a shot of fire bee honey. 

In an instant, his path is blocked by a witch dressed in plant track green, freshly-cropped hair swishing around her pointed ears as she throws her arms out to protect him, bright green eyes ablaze behind gold-rimmed glasses as she draws a spell circle like a sword and shield, ever his knight in shining armor.

"I'm so sorry about that. They were supposed to sing, not try to bite you," she sighs, swiftly subduing the little bouquet of fanged flora with a sleeping spell, before tracing her fingers over the palms of his hands to check for broken skin.

"Oh yeah?" he asks, smitten smile curling across his lips as his fingers slip seamlessly in between hers — at this point, he'll take any excuse to hold her hand. "What were they supposed to sing?"

Hunter's smile grows impossibly wider as an adorable shade of pink spreads across Willow's cheeks. 

"I…may or may not have composed a silly little song to the tune of the Cosmic Frontier opening theme — the one from 2008, obviously, 'cause that one's your favorite — and rehearsed it with a pack of siren snapdragons to ask you to Grom," she says, eyes crinkling at the corners in a sheepish wince.

Hunter stares at her, too stunned to speak.

Willow's face falls.

"Ugh, sorry. That sounds so lame and over-the-top now I said it out loud," she groans, little wince twisting into a full-on grimace. "I should've just—"

"Willow," he gently stops her, his smile more radiant than ever. "Open your locker."

Willow's eyebrows pull into a curious arch, tentatively stepping one locker down from his and opening the latch. The minute she does, a burst of confetti and snake-like streamers (no doubt courtesy of Luz) comes flying out, illusion fireworks, stars, and sparkles (courtesy of the extra lessons Hunter has been taking from Gus to join him in his advanced illusion track classes) spelling out Will-ow You Go To Grom With Me? in bright, dazzling shades of blue.

Willow turns to look at him, lips parted in surprise.

"I, uh…may or may not also be working on a custom tux," Hunter confesses, hand moving to attack a phantom itch on the back of his neck as he fixes her with a sheepish smile. "Took me ages to find that floral print, so I really hope you say y—"

The rest of his words are cut off as Willow throws her arms around his shoulders, presses him against the middle locker in between both of theirs, and kisses him senseless.

So. He's also had his first kiss. Again, no big deal. (It's a VERY big deal. He's pretty sure he gave himself brand new face scars from how hard he was smiling.)

He studies wild magic at a school dedicated to the very subjects he used to devour in secret in the dead of night, guilty pleasure turned multi-track major. And, when he isn't up to his eyeballs in wild magic textbooks or winning matches alongside his fellow Emerald Entrails, Hunter spends his weekends apprenticing under the Boiling Isles' pest palisman-maker since Caleb Wittebane — Dell Clawthorne.

As the months tick by, Hunter hones his skills and becomes a masterful carver, each palisman he breathes life into lessening the ache in his chest, until one day, he no longer sees the trembling, gnarled weapons that fought and scrambled and clawed their way up a Sisyphean mountain for a hell's chance at approval, bars of a prison cage that hand-delivered palisman to their demise, covered in scars like tally marks keeping record of every blunder he's ever made, every time he looks down at his hands.

Now, he just sees all the beautiful things he's managed to make with them, a well-practiced gentleness in everything he does — in holding Willow's hand as the two of them navigate their way through crowded corridors and woodland rambles, in the steady feed of fabric under the metronomic whirr of a presser foot, in the careful strokes of his carving knife, cradling each new palismen as he welcomes them into the world, promising to keep them safe until they find their forever home.

And it's wonderful, and it's fulfilling…

But something is missing.

Or rather, someone.

Hunter remembers that sickly, gnawing ache in his chest, like pressing fingers into a biliverdin bruise, the day he'd come away with an answer to a question he'd been working up the nerve to ask for weeks. The way Dell had smiled sadly, like a man who'd grown familiar with that particular brand of heartache, when he'd explained that each new cutting of palistrom wood becomes its own palisman, with its own unique personality and soul…and therefore, it is not possible to carve a new vessel for an old friend, no matter how much we may wish to be reunited.

Hunter can still feel him sometimes, soaring through the forests of his mindscape, red-feathered wingtips and trilling symphonies fluttering at the edges of his subconscious, igniting magic inside his chest in a bright golden glow, giving him the power to fly swiftly and protect himself and his friends whenever he has a need. Flapjack is always with him — a reminder that gives him comfort and fills him with a longing ache all at once. 

They can't speak like they used to, but there's still a connection. Now, instead of words and warbles, they communicate in feelings, in memories shared across Hunter's mindscape.

Hunter apologizes for what happened that night in the graveyard.

Flapjack assures him there's nothing to forgive.

That Hunter is loved.

That Hunter deserves to not be alone.

After countless hundred similar exchanges spread across a year of learning the trade, Flapjack's blessing drilled into him like insistent pecking, Hunter finally feels ready enough to act on it.

One sunlit afternoon perched on the precipice between summer and autumn, Hunter sits in his woodland workshop at the edge of the forest, contemplating a cutting of freshly-harvested palistrom wood, deep in conversation with a gravestone bearing the likeness of a little red cardinal, a garland of vines and vibrant purple flowers draped across its shoulders like a witch's wool cloak, the words thank you for finding me — H. carved across its front.

At first, he considers carving a wolf, magpie assortment of mystical human realm beasts immortalized in hand-sewn t-shirts, posters, and figurines across his desk, dresser, and bookshelves. But as he chatters away to the stone-carved likeness of his old best friend, eyes catching as they always do on the little red cardinal emblazoned across his wrist in his honor, the realization that he'll always be a bird guy settles deep within his bones like something he should've never even questioned.

But he doesn't want to just carve a Flapjack lookalike. It wouldn't be the same, and that wouldn't be fair to this new palisman. Hunter knows that special brand of torture well, that feeling of living in someone else's shadow rippling out across four hundred years of countless former Golden Guards all the way back to the first ortet, and he would never wish that upon his new companion.

Only…he's not exactly sure what kind of bird to carve. Outside of owls, ravens, and cardinals, Hunter's personal glossary of feathered friends isn't all that extensive.

"You must have met other birds in your travels," he tells the gravestone, thumb instinctually smoothing over the little tattoo on his wrist as he speaks. "Can you show me?"

Hunter feels a flutter of wings brush against his temple, and all at once, a burst of images flashes across his mind's eye — all manner of brightly-colored birds shared with him from Flapjack's memories. It's almost overwhelming, going from practically nothing to an entire forest's worth of choices, but there's one memory in particular that jumps out at him — little red cardinal lost in a snowstorm as he fled to the Knee, found by a bird with a mosaic of brilliant black, white, and blue plumage speckled across its wingspan and tail, friendly stranger who guided him back to her nest and gave him shelter, a safe port to wait out the storm.

Hunter glances down at the cutting of palistrom wood in the palm of his hand, steadfast smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he picks up his whittling knife and begins to carve.

"And that's when Flapjack found me," he tells the half-finished carving, drawing a careful half-circle to start forming one of their eyes. "Funny how my first friend is the one who led me to meeting all my other friends — Luz, then Amity, then Gus and…Willow."

On cue, Hunter exhales on a long, drawn-out sigh worthy of a lovesick Disney prince, evidently physically incapable of having any other reaction whenever he says her name.

"She's my girlfriend, by the way," he feels compelled to add, cheeks aching from the effort of holding back a big, goofy grin, blush like a roaring fire creeping up the back of his neck even though they've been dating for nearly a year now. Sometimes it still feels surreal to him, having something this good that's built to last.

"You'll really like her. You and Clover'll be best friends, I just know it. Birds and bees always go really well together," he says, blush growing impossibly deeper. 

Somewhere in the depths of Hunter's mindscape, he hears a cardinal's version of a teasing snicker, memories sparking across his mind's eye of a man his spitting image, bright as a beetroot as he gazes lovingly at a wild witch with fiery red hair and a devilishly charming smile. Some things never change.

"Hush, you," he tells the gravestone, glancing up from his work to roll his eyes and level a playful smirk at his best friend's likeness.

"My girlfriend is the captain of the flyer derby team," he continues, sunlight igniting the vibrant reds of his tattoo as he carefully curves his wrist to detail the wings. "You're gonna love playing flyer derby. I can't wait to show you. That's actually how Flap and I first met Willow. See, I was on a mission disguised as a regular Hexside student, when…"

And then he's off, launching into a dramatic retelling of one of his all-time favorite memories.

Golden hour sunlight pours through the spiderwebbed branches of the trees overhead, gentle summer breeze shaking loose fire-kissed leaves and flower petals in blushing shades that gather in the creases of Hunter's hand-stitched apron as he finally sets down his woodworking tools and cradles the little blue jay in the palms of his hands.

Hunter barely has a moment to close his eyes and state his deepest wish, before the little cutting of palistrom wood springs to life, chirping wildly as she stretches and flutters her wings, deep royal blue paired with stripes of crisp black and white, soft as silk as they brush against Hunter's fingers. She blinks, bright golden eyes staring up at him with a look of fond curiosity, before flitting to the space just above her carver's shoulder, where a faint silhouette of a bright red cardinal perches, gazing reverently at his old friend.

Take care of him for me, he tells her with a soft, wistful warble. Take good care of our boy.

Love our Hunter. Keep our Hunter safe, always, she promises with a wholehearted chirrup, fluttering out of the blond boy's gentle, scar-worn hands to land in the same spot from which the cardinal has just vanished, delighting in the way his whole face lights up in a brilliant smile when she nuzzles against his cheek.

Deep, throaty laughter echoes through the tranquil woods, catching on a half-sobbed sigh as the spirited little blue jay flits around Hunter's head, giving that stubborn little lock that dangles between his warm brown eyes a playful tug, before settling atop his head like a feathered crown and making herself a nest in the thickest part of his hair. It's still a little short since the last time Willow cut it for him, he tells her around a watery chuckle, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. But he'll grow it out just for her.

The little blue jay replies with a cheerful chirrup, spring-loading from the fluffy sea of cow-licked waves to perch on Hunter's outstretched finger.

"So, little one," he says, adoring expression mirrored from bright gold to warm brown. "What would you like to be called?"

The blue jay trills again, and Hunter distinctly hears the words like my big brother as a memory of a bright red cardinal, silhouetted around the edges in a soft golden glow, flashes across their shared mental link.

Hunter's breath catches in the back of his throat, blinking back a fresh wave of tears.

"Well, his name was Flapjack," he tells her, deep-rooted warmth and reverence clinging to every word. "So, how about…hmm, what do you like better, Pancakes or Waffles?"

The blue jay chirps, ruffling her feathers in excitement.

"Waffles it is," Hunter chuckles, lifting his little companion to press his nose against the side of her beak. Waffles responds in kind, letting out a soft, affectionate warble as she nuzzles against Hunter's nose.

So much love in your heart for us both, how could you ever doubt how wonderful you are? Waffles will protect Hunter, just as Flapjack did. Flapjack loves Hunter, and now Waffles does too. Hunter is loved by so many, she tells him, and images of everyone he told her stories about while he carved her — Willow, Gus, Luz, Amity, Vee, Camila, Darius, Raine, Eda, Lilith, Dell — flash across his mind's eye, flooding his chest with a warmth so potent it could rival the Boiling Sea. So much love for the boy with so much love to give.

Hunter pulls back to look at her, tears shining in his eyes.

"Thank you, both of you — all of you — for finding me," he tells her, leaning forward to press a kiss against the top of the blue jay's head. Waffles flutters to Hunter's shoulder to nuzzle his cheek in kind, and in that moment, Hunter could swear he feels two sets of tiny talons perched on either side.

Waffles wants to meet them, she says with a dulcet chitter. The family that found us.

Hunter lets out a soft, contented hum, gaze casting toward the sky, where streaks of citrus and blushing pinks mingle with the soft golden glow of the late afternoon sun, dancing like fireflies against the forest floor as a gentle breeze waltzes through the canopy of trees overhead. In other words: perfect conditions for a friendly game of flyer derby.

"Well then, Waffles," he prompts, whipping out his scroll and sending off a text to their ever-growing group chat, complete with spam notifications of its ever-changing rotation of names — Luz has changed the name to Hexolios, Eda has changed the name to Bad Girl Coven, Raine has changed the name to The CATs, Darius has changed the name to FOR TITAN'S SAKE YOU PUN-LOVING BARD, King has changed the name to Weirdo Squad and disabled permissions for everyone but him — asking them all to meet him at the field. 

"What do you say? Should we go meet our teammates and play our first match together?" he asks. Waffles chirps excitedly, hopping off of Hunter's shoulder and transforming into a staff the color of a deep, rich forest oak, little rings in shades of green and gold adorning her perch at the top, so enthralled by Hunter's stories she just couldn't wait to show off her Emerald Entrails pride.

Even after nearly a year of living without a staff, the muscle memory comes rushing back to Hunter in a heartbeat, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he grips the handle and kicks off from the ground with a spirited, "You ready, Waffles?" summer breeze wrapping them in its warm embrace as a witch and his new familiar soar through sunset-colored skies.

Elements of this story were inspired by art by polyhexian

[pinkdaisies9285]

Flyboy and the Florist-4

Bob Floyd x F!Reader

Warnings: None, Fluff

Word Count: 354

Author's Note: Yay! We finally get to know reader's callsign/nickname! This one is a little short but I'll make it up in the next part hopefully. Enjoy 💜

“So baby on board, I heard you got yourself a date soon?” Jake casually asked Bob while aiming his cue to land a ball in a pocket. Jake had been curious about the whole thing concerning the quiet WSO. He had heard the whispers from Nat and Bradley that Bob had scored himself a date with a Flora. Who was Flora? He wasn’t sure but she got Bob tied up in knots. Enough so that Bob was leaving as soon as possible at the end of each day. Always in a hurry to get to his truck before anyone else. Before anyone could ask Bob where he was going.

“I do. Why?” The question made Bob hesitant to let Jake know any more information. He wanted to try to keep his date as private as he could. He wanted it to be perfect. Or at least as perfect as it can go. 

“Just surprised that’s all Bobby boy,” Jake replied. He was still stunned that the man had scored himself a date with a woman Bradley had described as “out of Bob’s league.”

This made Bob frown. Jake’s facial expression made Bob irritated but he didn’t want to ruminate on it too long. Jake was just being Jake. “Also, where did you get the name Flora?”

“It’s what I decided to call her after seeing her among all those flowers,” Bradley piped up while coming over with more beers in his hands. “And it kinda stuck when talking about her with Nat.” 

“Oh,” Bob was confused as to why Bradley and Natasha were talking about her but he pondered the idea of the nickname of Flora. Why he didn’t think of it first he wasn’t sure. Yet, he liked it. The nickname felt like it fit her. She was always surrounded by flowers and they added to her beauty. Flowers that he bought every time he attempted to ask her out. Flowers that have had hidden meanings to them he will soon learn. Flowers that she puts so much care into. Flowers that brought him and her together. Flowers.

His flower. 

His Flora. 

“I like it.”

Tag List: @tgmavericklover @jessicab1991 @havlindzk @tgmreader @charactersimp08 @just-in-case-iloveyou @theamuz @attapullman @seresinhangmanjake @nerdgirljen @bobgasm @muddwheelz123 @3tabbiesandalab

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Divider Credit @cafekitsune

[sirowsky-stories]

The Flowers Always Know

Chapter 7 - Perfectly Awkward Things

Description: Seeking out Marcus for answers turned out to be fruitful in more ways than one.

**Beware! Author chooses NOT to display warnings on the individual chapters of this story. Read at your own risk!**

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Word Count: 3884 (1831 words added) Masterlist (this story)

   “My mother did what?” Marcus exclaimed in shock after you knocked on his office door and asked if he had a minute to talk, before telling him about the events of the morning.

   He’d looked so happy to see you, which had made it very difficult to remember why you’d come to visit him at all.

   “Yep. Suddenly I see why you felt the need to protect me from her. I still haven’t decided if I like her or not.”

   “I should think the answer would be ‘absolutely not’, after waking up to that,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “But I guess now we know what she was up to yesterday.”

   “Oh, don’t get me wrong, I was fuming,” you recalled with emphasis. “I just can’t help but admire her sass.    I could’ve done without the weird questions, though. I mean, unless you’re a florist or trying to impress someone, a deep-dive into the history of their favourite flower isn’t exactly the most enticing subject.”

   But hearing that made Marcus look extremely nervous, suddenly.

   “She asked you what flowers you like?” he wondered, and he sounded as though this one topic could somehow ruin his life, which of course only made you that much more confused.

   “Yeah, do you know what that’s about?” you asked, subconsciously leaning forwards in the sofa as your curiosity peaked.

   He was sitting across from you, in an identical sofa on the other side of a coffee table, and he’d been leaning forwards the whole time you’d been there.    But he now fell back against the backrest, as if needing to be as far from you as possible.

   “Uh, it’s something she does sometimes. She loves flowers, always has. She’s got the nicest garden you’ve ever seen, and she knows everything about every flower there is.    But she has this… I don’t know… insight, maybe? Don’t ask me how the flowers are involved, cause I’ve been trying to figure that out my entire life, but she somehow just knows shit. She asks about your favourite flower and whatever response you give, it tells her something more than what you’ve actually said. Almost like it… connects her to you.    I honestly don’t know if it’s an ability or just her extensive understanding of both people and flora, but whatever it is, as far as I know, she’s only ever used it to-...”

   He cut himself off then, as if he’d been about to say something wrong, or inappropriate. He’d been looking around the room while he’d spoken, occasionally flickering back to you, but now that his gaze returned to focus fully on you… you could’ve sworn he was blushing.

   “To… what?” you tried to prompt, but he just cleared his throat and adjusted himself in the sofa.

   “Um, that’s not important right now. I’ll talk to her about staying away from you,” he dodged, and you thought about pushing him to answer, but he seemed uncomfortable enough that you decided not to.

   You’d known him long enough by now to know that he rarely avoided a subject unless there was good cause.    Plus, you already knew that any effort he made to keep his mother away from you probably wouldn’t be successful, and that thought brought you back to your original reason for coming here.

   “Hah, good luck with that,” you cautioned with thickly layered sarcasm.

   “What do you mean?”

   “Only that the point of the weird questions was apparently to assess me for a job, which she then hired me for, without telling me anything about it.    Does she even have the authority to hire people? How much pull does she have here?” you questioned, hoping to learn more about the elusive woman.

   But Marcus looked only baffled.

   “Your guess is as good as mine, really. I’ve never known what my mother does here, besides meddle in everything and bark orders at everyone.    She’s not officially employed here anymore, but given how everyone treats her, it’s safe to say she has a lot of power among the Heroics organization. So, if she wants to give you a job, you can be sure they’ll let her.    She didn’t say anything about the position at all? Not even which branch?”

   “Only that I have to be here at 7am tomorrow if I wanna take it, and the assumption I made was that it would mean I’d be working for her.    But I’m not sure about any of this.”

   His office was a surprisingly comfortable room.    The furniture was all wood, either in light colours or just lacquered so the veins and life of the trees could be seen. And while there was a good-sized desk with an ergonomic chair (the only piece of furniture which wasn’t made of wood), those were pushed into a corner, to make room for the two big, soft, moss-coloured sofas in the middle of the space, where you were now seated.

   There was a small potted plant sat in the middle of the coffee table between you. You didn’t know what type of plant it was, but it suited Marcus somehow.    Beautiful leaves, large but somewhat fragile, growing tightly to conceal the surprisingly thick and sturdy stems, and you got the distinct impression that this plant could take a lot more than anyone thought.

   Seeming more nervous again, he got up and rounded the little table to come and sit down next to you instead, and you had a feeling it was mostly to comfort himself. Not that you ever minded his proximity.

   “I really don’t know what this might be about. She’s never wanted or needed an assistant, but I can’t think of anything else she might want you to do,” he pondered, and you leaned back again so you could see him.

   “I’m just an artisan, a craftswoman. I design logo’s, sew and knit, make sculptures and ceramics, the occasional leather or metalworks. Small things for individual buyers, never anything large scale. I’ve never done anything else.”

   “Maybe she thinks we need re-branding,” he offered, probably as a joke, but at this point, you were about ready to believe anything.

   “Have you heard any discussions about something like that?”

   “Nope.”

   “Shit,” you slumped further and closed your eyes for a moment. “I don’t know what to do.”

   Abruptly restless, you opened your eyes again before getting up and starting to pace about the room, still relishing in the fact that you were even able to stand up without assistance.    But you missed the disappointed look on Marcus’ face as you left his side. And before he could object, you launched into a speech about all the things you’d been mulling over in your head while you’d cleaned your house.

   “I mean, she’s right, I need a job. It’s not like my former employer could just wait for me to get better while a third of her entire workforce was missing, with no word on whether or not I’d even be able to come back. She had to replace me; I get that.    It’s just that it’s a very difficult business to get back into, because most of them are small and privately owned and they hire people they know are good and then stick with them. I should know, I’d been with that company for a decade.    And yeah, I’ve played with the idea of maybe trying to start a business of my own, but that’s not easy, especially when I have no experience or training as a business owner or production manager. Not to mention the economics, taxes, legal crap…”

   You sighed into a grunt as you came to a stop behind the sofa across from Marcus and rested your hands on the back of it.    So much of your life still had to change before anything would have a chance to get back to some manner of normal. And it all seemed so big and difficult, and you didn’t want any more of that. You’d had more than enough of difficult to last you the rest of your life.    In that sense, being offered a job out of the blue was a gift. The problem was, you felt like there was a catch, which meant you didn’t trust it.

   “At the same time, I can’t help but feel that working here… Ugh, I don’t know,” you speculated, somehow feeling trapped. “I can’t see how I could possibly do anything here that would make me feel like I was contributing.”

   “Hey, come here, hermosa,” he suggested, patting the seat next to him.

   You brightened a bit, hearing one of his nicknames for you. You’d gotten so used to them in the past three months, the sounds of them felt like home to you now, even though you didn’t speak Spanish, beyond “hola” and “buenos dias”.    Still, you’d never dared to ask him what those names meant. You had guessed the meaning of some of the words you’d heard him say, like “felicidades” when you’d succeeded on the obstacle course, but about the nicknames, you didn’t know if he was calling you something endearing or just practical.

   Rounding the sofa you’d been standing behind, you sat back down not quite next to him, since you weren’t sure how comfortable you could be with him.    During your recovery, he’d been up close and personal with you every day, having to touch various parts of your body to help your muscles heal. But once that had ended, there was no manual for how to behave anymore. No way to know what was appropriate beyond the professional. And it wasn’t like such a thing ever came up in casual conversation.

   Once you’d settled in, he angled himself towards you, and feeling your temperature rise with his closeness, you begged for an interesting subject to pop into your head.    Fortunately, that was when you suddenly remembered the word his mother had called you when she’d spoken to you. Granted, not the most interesting topic ever, but since things were getting more awkward by the second, you decided it was as good a question as any.

   “What does ‘mujer’ mean?”

   “Woman,” he said without pause, and then cocked his head to the side, probably confused by the apparent randomness of the question. “Why do you ask?”

   “Anita called me that.”

   “Yeah, she does that. She still calls me boy. Chico, or hijo if she’s in a good mood.    She claims it’s just her way of calling it like it is, but I suspect in most cases, it’s just because she doesn’t bother to memorize people’s names,” he tutted, which almost made you snicker because it was such a Marcus thing to do.

   But there was another question burning a hole in your brain, and you were too busy fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, trying to decide if you dared to ask, to fully appreciate his adorable little tut.

   “Oh, I see,” you answered generically, while working up the courage. “Um, since we’re on the subject, I was wondering… about hermosa?”

   He responded by smiling that melting smile of his, damned near taking your breath away.

   “It means beautiful,” he softly explained, and something in his eyes turned liquid and hypnotizing.

   Shit. You just had to go there, and now you were blushing like an idiot, not knowing where to look or what to say or how to behave like a normal fucking person.    He seemed only delighted, though.

   “I’d happily call you something in English, if you’d prefer,” he offered, sounding entirely sincere and much too inviting. “Like sweetheart,” he added, barely over a whisper now.

   But you couldn’t look at him, so you didn’t know if he was being flirty or just friendly. If he was saying that he wanted you to be his sweetheart, or that he just wanted to call you that.    You couldn’t tell if your own desires were tainting what you heard to make it sound more involving and romantic than it actually was.    Coming here had been about discussing his mother and the job, not give yourself more opportunities to fall even harder for the guy.

   You had, though. You’d probably fallen for him the moment you’d first heard his voice that day in the med-chamber. Every day since then had been spent in either denial or a continued attempt to confirm that you had no shot with this man.    It had never been this difficult to be around him when you’d been recovering, even though you’d been attracted to him, because there’d been a professional barrier separating you. It was only in the last few weeks when you hadn’t really needed him anymore, it had started getting out of hand.

   Maybe because against all odds, there could be a slim chance he liked you as more than a friend as well. Or perhaps you just needed to know, either way.    For the moment, all you wanted was for the pressing awkwardness to end.

   “Uh… you can call me whatever you like,” you timidly responded, after what seemed like hours.

   “Thank you,” he replied, with a deep kind of rumbling warmth, and suddenly you had to look at him again, had to know what expression could make his voice sound like that.

   Whatever you might’ve imagined, you were totally unprepared for the desire looking back at you. It had you leaning towards him like he was a magnet.    And amazingly, the moment he realized what you were doing, he responded by quickly closing the remaining distance between you, as though he was afraid something would interrupt if he simply sat back and waited for you to get to him.

   His lips were warm and soft as they moulded to yours, eager, but not demanding, his moustache tickling you in the sweetest way. His hands came up to cradle your jaw, holding you to him with the lightest touch, sending flares of tiny electric pulses through your skin.    The rapid sensory overload had your pulse racing and your entire body flushed with the heat of arousal in the blink of an eye.

   To your own shock and disbelief, both clearly dulled by your libido for the time being, a few seconds later you found yourself clambering onto his lap and straddling him. Your own lips being every bit as demanding as his hadn’t been, and your hands rough and craving against his delicate touch.    But if he was surprised, he didn’t show it. His hands quickly found their way to your thighs and up your back instead, making you shiver with pleasure. Then a throaty grunt of a moan escaped him, and he opened his mouth, as if seeking refuge from the heat of his own body, by begging for entry into yours.

   Panting and grinding yourself against him, feeling him harden underneath you, you were suddenly snapped back to reality by the sound of the phone on his desk ringing.    You froze on his lap and pulled back to stare at him, mortified at your own reaction to what had started out as a simple kiss, literally just seconds ago. Your first kiss, no less.    He grinned as he watched your face go from arousal to panic, and his arms closed tighter around you, holding you to him, while you tried to hide your face in your hands.

   “I’m sorry, I have no idea where that came from, I’ve never done anything like this before, I don’t even know what happened…” you fumbled, wishing you could just run from the room and never come back.

   “Do I look uncomfortable to you?” Marcus smirked, obviously not bothered in the least, and quite completely missing the point.

   “No, but I-…” you tried, but he cut you off.

   “Hermosa… you can attack me any time you like. I’ve wanted to be touched by you for a long time,” he said, still grinning happily, totally oblivious to the storm which was churning inside you.

   “You don’t understand. I’m not like this,” you sighed, looking for the right words, and strangely feeling more comfortable talking about it the longer you went. “I’m not… confident, not about sex. I’ve never been the one to instigate, much less push or demand more. I don’t ever do that, it’s not in my nature.”

   Finally realizing that you weren’t just being bashful, but that your own actions were genuinely frightening you, he frowned while softening his grip around you and stroking your back soothingly.

   “Hey, don’t be scared. I’m not in any hurry with you. If you need to understand this before you’re willing to take things further, then that’s what you need to do.    Just… promise me you won’t shut me out. Please?”

   You stared at him, utterly enthralled, your hands drooping down onto his chest while you tried to process the truths behind his words.    That he was willing to take things slow even though you’d just teased him in the worst conceivable way, just so you’d be comfortable with him. But more than that, he obviously wanted to be included, to be a part of your life. Which wouldn’t matter to him unless he was looking for something long term.    Holy shit. You’d just come here to ask for his advice…

   “Y-You are real, right?” you asked him, so staggered by this revelation that you needed to make sure. “This isn’t some perfect fantasy I dreamed up, is it?”

   His smile came back even wider before he answered, and there was a happy little laughter hiding in every syllable.

   “Of course I’m real, sweetheart. You could never dream up someone so dorky.”

   “You’re not dorky,” you countered with conviction, and you guessed that it was probably the stern look on your face which made his laughter blossom.

   “According to Missy, who’s known me a lot longer than you, I am the Superdork of dorks. But I’m apparently also very lovable,” he finished with a wink, finally making you laugh too.

   “That I can agree with. And I’ll promise not to shut you out if you’ll do the same for me.”

   “Somehow, I get the feeling this is one promise that’ll be easer for me to keep than it will be for you. But I promise.”

   “You might be right, but that’s just because I haven’t had any people in my life I could rely on, ever since I was a kid,” you told him, and the mirth cooled a bit.

   You hadn’t told him anything about your family yet, and you didn’t want to, so you were relieved when he didn’t ask about them.

   “In that case, from now on, I’ll consider it my mission to make sure you always know you can lean on me,” he added to his promise, still smiling so warmly.

   “I don’t know how I can ever deserve you, but I sure as shit won’t turn you down,” you smiled back. “Thank you. For this and everything else. And I promise not to shut you out.”

   He just kept meeting your eyes with unflinching focus, and gently caressed your cheek.    You leaned into the warmth of his hand for a moment, but then you suddenly remembered exactly where you were sitting, and your cheeks began to flush under his gentle touch.

   “Um… I should maybe…” you tried, while you started working to move yourself off his lap.

   His grin widened and his eyes turned playful as he realized what you were blushing about, but he quickly offered you a helping hand to make sure you got up with your dignity intact. Thank goodness you’d opted for jeans today, rather than a skirt or dress.    He straightened himself up a bit on the sofa, and you moved to sit down across from him again, taking a breath to try to cool yourself down.

   Then you both visibly flinched when the door abruptly flung open, and Mrs. Moreno appeared on the threshold.    She didn’t even glace in your direction, keeping her eyes on her son, although she most certainly knew you were there, there was no way she didn’t see you in her periphery. But you also got the impression she’d known before even opening the door. Just like you were sure she knew that something… heated, had happened between her son and you.

   You made a mental note to check the room for cameras or microphones later, because that timing was eerily perfect.

   “Honestly, chico, what’s happened to your manners lately? You can’t even be bothered to answer the phone anymore?” she chided, and you stifled a curse trying to spill from your lips as it dawned on you that it had been her calling earlier, also with impeccable timing.

   “Wow, mom. You barge into my office without even knocking, or saying hello, being extremely rude to my guest, and yet, I’m the one with no manners? Really?” Marcus challenged, clearly truly sick of his mother’s meddling.

   She, on the other hand, was apparently immune to his retorts, completely ignoring his challenge as she turned to you instead.

   “I was not expecting you until tomorrow, but since you’re here, we might as well get started,” she declared, and then swept around and left the room while delivering a final command: “Come along, mujer.”

   “Mrs. Moreno, I-…” you tried, but she was already gone, so you sighed and looked at Marcus who just shook his head, still staring after her. “She’s the one who called? That timing was-…”

   “Don’t even go there,” he cut you off, cautioning you. “She’s omniscient, there’s nothing you can do about it.”

   You looked towards the open doorway and felt yourself frown, although if it was out of confusion or frustration you couldn’t tell.

   “I don’t know if I wanna go after her. I haven’t even decided if I want the job.”

   “Don’t let her push you around, sweetheart. If you want to take the time to think about it, you have every right to,” he reminded you, and you turned your head back to meet his gaze, scrunching your nose up at him in a childish manner.

   “I think I prefer hermosa,” you declared, which brought his grin back, but before he could reply, you heard Anita shout after you from further down the corridor. “On the other hand, I can always resign from a job I’ve already taken, so I could go find out just what it is she wants me to do, and if I don’t like it, at least I’ll know.”

   You sighed with equal parts irritation and sulkiness, then you got up and he mirrored you, cutting you off from leaving by stepping in front of you and taking your hands.

   “Remember, whatever happens, I’m here. If you need anything I’ll be there, and if you can’t find me, call me,” he reassured you, letting his hands slide up your arms and come to rest at the top of your shoulders, before he leaned in and kissed your forehead.

   “Thank you,” you said, closing your eyes and inhaling the scent of him, hoping to bring it with you for extra strength.

   Then Mrs. Moreno shouted again, louder this time, making you growl as you stepped around Marcus to follow her down the corridor.

   “If I haven’t called within the next two minutes, you can go ahead and officially declare me a saint.”

[avalynlestrange]

Begin Again

Pansy Parkinson x Neville Longbottom (background Theodore Nott x Luna Lovegood)

Warnings: Nothing? Please let me know if there is. Not proof read 😊

Category: Fluff, One-Shot, Flashfic, Songfic

Summary: In which Pansy watches love begin again.

No sneak peaks 😋

Author’s Note: I first saw Panville in the tags when I was posting my Pansy mood board and found the ship really cute.

Word Count: 829

To The Library (my masterlist)

To The Kitchen (my WIPs)

To more Pansy Parkinson fics

To more Neville Longbottom fics

To Red TV Anthology

Pansy takes a deep breath in the mirror. Indecisive about which shoes completes her outfit. ‘He didn't like it when I wore high heels. But I do.’ She slips into her go-to black stilettos gifted to her by Tracey. It’s been in her closet since he put them there.

She applies a layer of lipgloss and grabs her keys. This would be her first date after him. Pansy cannot believe she let Nott’s girlfriend talk her into a blind date. Her hand hovers over the front door’s handle. She walks back to the wall mirror and styles her fringe once more before leaving her apartment.

She turns the lock and puts her headphones on. ‘He always said he didn't get this song. But I do.’

She always loved it this time of year. The leaves crunching beneath her feet. Cold breeze making her regret not choosing a thicker cardigan. Lovegood informed Pansy that her blind date chose a cafe nearby. Convenient if it goes wrong and Pansy wants to go home quick.

She walks in expecting he’d be late but he’s here early and he stands and waves. Pansy stands shocked to see one Neville Longbottom.

She walks to him.

“Hi. This is for you.” Neville hands her a plant pot.

She takes the gift and thanks him.

“It’s a young ho-“

“Honeysuckle.” She smiles. “It’s my favourite.”

Her grandmother used to grow them in their family garden and the sweet aroma filled the backyard with a sweet scent every summer. She would spend her holidays there tending to the flora.

She puts the gift on the table to the side.

“I know. You mentioned it in Herbology a couple times.”

How sweet of Neville to have listened and remembered. She recalls dropping the hint many times to her ex so that he would stop gifting her pansies, which he assumed were her favourite. She used to loathe that she was named after the favourite flower of the mother that abandoned her family for a muggle but she’s long gotten past that fact and have accepted her name.

Neville pulls her chair out and helps her in. ‘He doesn’t know how nice that is. But I do.’

The date started with the niceties; the ‘What have you been up to’. They even forgot to order anything until Neville noticed Pansy eyeing the cake on the table next to them. He asks her what she would like and insists on being the one to order and pay.

She sits and stares after him. All these years Pansy has never thought she’d come across classmates that weren’t in her Slytherin circle, never mind Neville. It’s nice. It’s more than nice. She’ll have to thank Lovegood for setting it all up.

Neville returns with a tray and sets her drink in front of her along with a teaspoon and a fork on a napkin. He places a plate with 2 different pieces of cake down in the middle.

“Before you say anything, I know you didn’t ask for it but this place is famous for its desserts. It’s the reason I chose this place. That one has cream cheese frosting.” He says pointing at the slice of blueberry cake.

“I love a good frosting. Thank you.” And they both dig in.

‘He’s a sharer.’ She finds it a refreshing change to what she’s used to. They talk about everything and anything. Pansy is reserved until they speak about music.

“I have never met one witch who had as many Madame Bletchley records as me.” Neville chuckles as he takes a bite out of their shared dessert.

“But I do! I made everyone I knew enter that contest the Daily prophet ran in sixth year. I even sent an owl to my Grandma to enter as well.”

“Me too! I was so gutted when I didn’t win. My Nana sent me my records and the boys were sick of her by the end of the spring term.”

“Aww your Nana sounds lovely.” She brushes her hair away from her face and stirs her beverage.

“You seem a lot more shy than you were back in the day.”

Pansy takes a sip of her hot chocolate. He gestures at the foam at her upper lip and there’s a moment of silent before she replies.

“I’m sorry about what I said and did at school.” Before she could recollect her darker years Neville interrupts.

“Yeah you were pretty scary. But what’s past is past.”

His hand touches hers and it gives her some courage.

“I actually thought you were cute back then.” She confesses.

Neville’s eyebrows rises up and he gives her a toothy grin.

“And I thought you were pretty.”

Their eyes meet and linger there for more than a moment. Pansy was too busy spending the last eight months wallowing; thinking all love ever does is break and burn, and end.

But on a Wednesday in a cafe, she watches it begin again.

[2plottwist]

The Dragon's Heir - Chapter Three

Pairing: Astarion x Female!OC(Edrys)

Characters: The Albrecht Family

Warnings: Death, injury

Setting: Baldur's Gate, right before the events of BG3

Author: Emma:)

Word Count: 3.0k (woah Nelly!)

Series Masterlist

That evening, as she was being dressed by her maids, Edrys was lucky to have a lovely view of the moon from the gardens outside of her room. It had hung low in the city, casting silvery light across the well-kept flora.

The air always crackled with anticipation when Edrys and her family prepared to meet with visitors. Her mother most likely spent the day making sure everything was in pristine shape, including her husband. 

Travelers were constantly in and out of their main parlor for business, and it was the same song and dance every time Edrys was invited to join in. Curtsy when greeting them, smile constantly, and laugh when prompted to. The routine was almost as part of her as her magic was. 

Her mother and two brothers gathered around the polished oak table that took up the majority of the parlor as her father waited by the manor’s doors. A fire crackled warmly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the richly decorated walls. Alaric and Aldous stood near the windows, postures relaxed but eyes sharp as they scanned the darkening grounds outside. 

The travelers visiting tonight had requested an audience with their family, though the exact nature of the meeting was rather vague. Lady Albrecht, ever the picture of elegance, sat with her hands folded neatly in her lap, her expression the same serenity it always was. But Edrys, who knew her mother well, could sense the undercurrent of unease in the way she held herself, the slight tension in her shoulders. 

“This seems an unusual hour for a meeting, doesn’t it?” Aldous murmured, breaking the silence. His voice was low, but the concern in it was unmistakable.

“It is,” Lady Albrecht replied calmly, though her gaze remained fixed on the fire. “But sometimes business can’t wait until daylight.”

Aldous flicked his gaze to Edrys. “What do we know about these guests?” he asked her. “I don’t like surprises, and this feels like a bad one.”

Edrys shook her head. “Not much. Father didn’t mention anything specific, only that they were important.”

“We’ll hear what they have to say, and then we’ll decide how to proceed,” her mother said.

Edrys glanced at Alaric, who nodded in agreement. “Worry not, brother. We’ll be careful,” he added, his hand resting casually on the hilt of the sword at his side. “If anything seems amiss, we’ll act.”

A distant sound of hooves on cobblestone drew their attention, and Alaric moved to the window, peering into the night. “They’re here,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Edrys straightened, the air in the room thickening. Moments later, she could hear her father’s warm voice welcoming the visitors. As the voices drew nearer, the heavy wooden doors of the parlor creaked open, and a butler entered, bowing slightly as he announced their guests. 

“Lady Albrecht, Nightwarden Minthara Baenre, accompanied by Rhog The Proud and Bhomzaz The Barren.”

Edrys watched as three figures entered the room, their presence immediately unsettling. They were cloaked in dark, travel-worn garments, the hoods pulled low over their faces, obscuring the majority of their features. The one she assumed to be Minthara removed her hood, revealing a white-haired drow. 

“Albrecht family, thank you for receiving us,” Minthara said, her voice raspy and low. 

“Welcome, Nightwarden Minthara,” Edrys’ mother greeted them, her voice composed. “Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

The figures moved forward silently, their armored boots clanging against the polished floor. As they drew closer, Edrys felt a prickling sensation at the back of her neck, a deep instinct warning her that something was wrong. Her brothers, too, were on edge- she could see Aldous’ hand tightening around the arm of his chair and Alaric’s gaze narrowing in suspicion. 

The two figures flanking Minthara sat after she did but did not remove their hoods, which struck Edrys as odd. In her family’s home, such behavior was rude. But this took on a more unsettling tone. Who were these people who sought to hide their identities so blatantly?

Edrys’ father found his seat at the head of the table and inclined his head, though Edrys could tell he was wary. “Now that we are settled, may I ask the nature of your visit?”

“We come with an offer, Lord Albrecht. One that your family might find… advantageous,” Minthara answered Edrys’ father but never took her eyes off her. “But first, we must discuss matters of importance. Matters that are best kept private between us and Lady Edrys.”

Edrys’ eyes widened with shock. “Me?” she questioned, glancing from the drow to her father, who looked equally as surprised. Alaric pushed his chair back and stood, eager to protect her. “Anything you wish to discuss with our sister, you can discuss with us present.”

Minthara turned slightly, as if acknowledging Alaric’s presence for the first time. “You misunderstand,” she said, her tone smooth but lacking any warmth. “We have no intention of dividing your family. On the contrary, we seek to… strengthen it.”

Clearly there was a hidden threat in the nightwarden’s words, something dangerous lurking beneath the surface. Her mother’s eyes flickered with recognition of the same unease, though her face remained impassive. 

“Strengthen it.. How?” Lady Albrecht asked.

Minthara didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she motioned for one of the cloaked figures to reach inside their cloak. They pulled out a small, ornate box, made of dark wood intricately carved with symbols that seemed to shift and write in the flickering candlelight. They held it out to Lady Albrecht with a green hand. “This is intended to be a gift from our Master to Lady Edrys, but… perhaps this will help you understand.”

Edrys furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. Her mother hesitated before accepting the box, her fingers brushing against the cold metal as she opened it, the lid creaking. Inside, nestled on a bed of dark velvet, was a small, silver amulet, the center of which was a polished, black stone that seemed to absorb the light around it. The moment she laid eyes on it, Edrys got the dizzying feeling that she had seen it before. Then, it clicked.

“My trances,” she whispered, the realization slipping from her lips before she could stop it. Minthara looked at her with a knowing smile. 

Edrys shook her head. “I’ve seen this. This ties to my trances.” She looked at her mother, panicked. “Mother, they’ve come to take me with them!”

Minthara’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she stepped closer, her presence looming over Edrys and her family. “You are correct, child. The Absolute has called for you and demands your return. You belong to us, Edrys Albrecht, and it is time for you to fulfill your true purpose.”

Lady Albrecht’s hand tightened around the box, her eyes narrowing in defiance. “She belongs to no one but this family. Whatever claim you think you have over her is a lie.”

Minthara’s smile faded, her expression hardening. “You are mistaken, Lady Albrecht. Your daughter’s fate is sealed, and there is nothing you can do to change it.”

Edrys felt a surge of panic rising in her chest. She couldn’t let them take her, couldn’t let them control her like they had in the past life she was only just beginning to remember. “I won’t go with you!” she declared, stepping back as her magic flared to life, crackling in the air around her. “I am not a pawn of the Absolute, and I refuse to be your prisoner!”

The room seemed to darken, the shadows growing longer as the tension reached a breaking point. Alaric and Aldous were at their sister’s side in an instant, their weapons drawn, ready to defend her with their lives. Lady Albrecht’s expression hardened into one of steely resolve, her own magic simmering beneath the surface as she prepared to protect her daughter.

Minthara’s eyes narrowed, and with a swift motion, she signaled to the two figures behind her. “So be it,” she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. “If you will not come willingly, then we will take you by force.”

The two cloaked figures lunged forward, and the room erupted into chaos.

Alaric moved first, his sword clashing with the blade of the closest attacker. Sparks flew as the two men exchanged blows, their movements a blur of steel and fury. Aldous spun toward the other figure, his dagger flashing as he parried a strike aimed at Edrys.

The room was filled with the sounds of battle, the clash of weapons and the crackle of magic as Lady Albrecht unleashed a torrent of arcane energy at Minthara.

But the Nightwarden was prepared. With a flick of her wrist, she deflected Lady Albrecht’s spell, the force of the counterattack sending Lady Albrecht stumbling backward. Edrys watched in horror as Minthara advanced on her mother, her dark magic swirling ominously in the air.

“Mother!” Edrys screamed, but she was intercepted by one of the cloaked figures, a brute of a man whose strength far outmatched hers. She summoned her magic, the familiar sensation of power surging through her veins as she unleashed a blast of fire at him. He grunted in pain, but before she could press the attack, she felt a sudden, searing pain in her side as a second figure struck her with a spell.

The pain brought her to her knees, her vision blurring as she struggled to stay conscious. She could hear her brothers shouting, the clash of weapons ringing in her ears, and her brother's dagger clutched between her fingers- but everything seemed distant, like a fading echo. The last thing she saw before darkness claimed her was Minthara standing over Lady Albrecht, her mother’s body crumpling to the ground in a lifeless heap.

“No…” Edrys whispered, her voice weak and broken as the world around her faded to black.

When she awoke, it was aboard an alien ship hurtling through the hells. She was trapped within the confines of a flesh-like pod, her senses dulled and her movements restricted. She attempted to struggle against the tentacles holding her in place when she froze. An insidious presence loomed over an acidic-looking pool in front of her. A mind flayer, she realized, recalling one of her dad’s monster stories.

It carefully plucked what looked to be a tadpole, or leech, she couldn’t tell, out of the abscess and floated close to her. Slowly, her pod opened, revealing a horrid stench and another ten enclosures around hers.

The mind flayer stretched out its long, gray arm, dangling the worm close to her face. Rows of teeth bared, the creature lunged towards her face, eager to strike. Before she had time to struggle, the leech jumped into her eye and crawled comfortably behind it. She hissed in pain, grabbing at her face as the pod closed again. 

Suddenly, a loud roar erupted from outside the nautiloid, shaking it to its core. Edrys yelped as she saw the source of the noise glide by the opening on the flesh-like wall- a red dragon, ridden by an iron-clad warrior. 

A githyanki, she realized, relying on her knowledge from her studies. Mindflayers were their mortal enemies, and if they were after the nautiloid- she would certainly die aboard the alien ship. She cried out to her magic for help and began to feel its fiery tendrils surround her body. With a yell, she released a large ball of fire, shooting through the front of her pod and catching the pool of tadpoles aflame.

Edrys collapsed out of the pod and was met with the cold wetness of the floor. It almost squelched below her as she rose to her feet.  Before she had time to gather her bearings, the ship took a steep nosedive and began plummeting towards the ground. 

Hells, she thought. This is truly the end. The nautiloid jolted suddenly to the right, causing Edrys to lose her grip on the smoldering tentacle she was bracing herself against. Her body cascaded against various objects before being flung out of the side of the ship and into the inky black sky. 

She screamed, then. A bloodcurdling scream. But not out of fear- no, she was enraged. Angry at the unknown. Where was she? Why her family? She had always tried to do good, be good- why was this how she would die? 

Edrys realized she was fastly approaching a beach, where her body would surely feed local wildlife for several days. She refused to die in a foul mood- her mother certainly wouldn’t approve. She closed her eyes and calmed her mind, thinking about her brothers. Her parents. Her magic.

Seconds away from hitting the ground, a sudden force gripped her, halting her fall mid-air. Instead of the harsh impact she had braced for, she found herself suspended, cradled by an invisible presence that cushioned her descent. 

The relief washed over her in a tidal wave, stealing her breath away. She looked around in a daze, searching for the source of the magic that had saved her. Had the very forces of fate intervened? But in that moment, all thoughts of who or what had saved her were overshadowed by the overwhelming weight of grief crashing down on her.

As she floated momentarily, a powerful memory surged to the forefront of her mind:her family. What had happened to the others? Were they still fighting? Had they met the same fate as her mother? Tears streamed down her face as she felt the ache of their absence, a deep sorrow that threatened to consume her.

Edrys's heart clenched painfully at the thought of her mother lying lifeless, the way Alaric and Aldous had fought valiantly to defend her, and how their sacrifices had all been in vain. The darkness of despair wrapped around her like a shroud, stifling any semblance of hope. She had no idea where she was, but she knew that she was alone now, bereft of the love and support that had always surrounded her.

As the invisible force gently lowered her to the ground, she landed softly on a patch of grass, the damp earth cool against her skin. It was then that the weight of her loss settled in her chest like a stone.

Edrys knelt on the damp earth, the weight of her grief pressed down on her like a suffocating blanket, but amid the pain, something stirred within her. It was a familiar sensation, the ebb and flow of magic coursing through her veins. In the depths of her sorrow, she felt it awaken, a raw power that pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat.

With each breath she took, the magic intensified, swirling around her like a tempest. It was as if her emotions had tapped into a wellspring of energy that had long lain dormant, igniting within her. The air crackled with electricity, and the ground beneath her began to tremble softly in response to her turmoil.

Edrys clenched her fists, feeling the heat rising within her, fueled by the pain of her loss. The magic responded to her grief, wrapping around her like a cloak, whispering promises of vengeance and power. Her vision blurred with tears, but in that moment, she felt more alive than she had in days, a fierce energy igniting a spark of hope amid her despair.

She could sense the world around her shifting, responding to her emotions. The grass beneath her seemed to hum with her magic, the leaves of nearby trees rustling as if encouraging her to unleash the force building inside her. Edrys could feel the magic pushing at her boundaries, urging her to channel her grief into something tangible, something powerful.

In her mind’s eye, she saw flashes of fire, arcs of lightning, and the glimmer of ancient spells long forgotten. The memories of her training with her mother and brothers surged forth, the lessons they had taught her coming to life. She recalled the way her mother had smiled as she guided her through the art of sorcery, the gentle encouragement that had always fueled her passion for magic.

And now, in her darkest moment, that magic surged forth, a response to the pain of her heart. With a deep breath, Edrys focused, allowing her emotions to flow into her magic. She felt the warmth awaken her. The air around her crackled and shimmered, and she felt a flicker of control.

With a wave of her hand, she conjured a small flame, its flickering light casting shadows on the trees around her. It danced to her will, a reflection of her fury and determination, illuminating the path forward. As the flame grew brighter, she thought once again about her mother. She would want her to transform her grief into strength. 

Edrys stood with a newfound resolve in her heart. Magic surged within her, mingling with her sorrow, forging a powerful bond that she would not allow to be extinguished.As far as she had lost everything, and gained some sort of worm wriggling about in her skull, but she would not lose herself. The Absolute would pay for their cruelty, and she would harness her magic to carve a new path in the darkness.

As she wiped the tears from her cheeks, she felt the magic settle around her like an embrace, a reminder of her heritage and her purpose. She was no ordinary sorceress; she was the last of her kind, a high elf of draconic descent, and her journey was only just beginning. 

A lucky girl indeed. 

[hcneymilkks]

reality | hcneymilkks masterlist

© All Rights Reserved | hcneymilkks

Any infringement on any part of these pieces will result in me finding your account and asking for you to take it down. Failure to comply will result in reporting your account for copywriting.

I ask that my readers help me with plagiarism of these works if it happens.

I will not allow any language translations.

My work is my own. Any sentences, names, events, times, or places that are similar in anyone else's work or anywhere online is purely coincidental.

These works are fiction, with little bits and pieces of my life that I may have put in to dramatize the imagine. After all, in each book you read, there is a little bit of the author in it, even if you don't notice it because it's their work. Adding in bits and pieces of their life can bring them closer to their work, to their created character.

BONUS: Group will be in alphabetical order because I am a multifandom and tend to write for many groups (including Nine Percent who is a Chinese group)

WILL UPDATE WHEN A NEW WORK IS POSTED (TAKEN FROM MY MIND, TWITTER AND WATTPAD) 

HALLOWEEN DRABBLES

Nightshift

‘TFW you wake up in a pumpkin’

‘The Purge’ 1

CHRISTMAS DRABBLES

Christmas prompts requests

‘Hot Chocolate’

‘Mission Mistletoe’

‘Next Door’

‘Third Time’s the Charm’

‘What in the Holly?’

‘Hard to Find’

‘Hint of Peppermint and Love’

‘Charming’

 ‘Cold’

Skate straight to my Heart’

‘Stuck With You’

snowball

‘6:13 pm’

24K  

*I will most likely only write up until a select few as this group had many member changes*

Kim Jinhong

the purge (on haitus) 1

AB6IX 

Lim Youngmin 

‘Hard to Find’

A.C.E

Park Junhee

you’re cute you know that

Kim Sehyoon

i miss you

CIX

Yoon Hyunsuk

‘Mission Mistletoe’

INFINITE

Kim Sung-kyu

bestfriend! sunggyu

NCT

Wong Yukhei (Lucas)

skate straight to my heart

Lee Jeno 

next door

Na Jaemin

bittersweet

NINE PERCENT

Zhu Zhengting

a dozen letters

Cai Xukun

unrequited love

ONEUS

Kim Youngjo (Ravn)

TFW you wake up in a pumpkin

bad blood

SHINee

(SHINee will always and forever be 5 to me)

Lee Taemin 

Hot Chocolate

Super M

Lee Taemin

Hot Chocolate

STRAY KIDS  

STRAY KIDS AS:

hyung line

maknae line

ALWAYS AND FOREVER

Kim Woojin

City Nights

Bang Chan 

9:10 pm

12:03 am

hint of peppermint and love

Lee Min-ho (Lee Know)

better than never

12:03 am

Seo Changbin

crack drabble (ft. Minho)

Hwang Hyun-jin

walks (ft. Chan)

third time’s the charm

charming

Han Jisung

cold

Lee Yongbok (Felix)

you did not (ft. Chan) 1 | 2

6:13 pm

Kim Seungmin

likes (ft. Hyunjin)

THE BOYZ

Ji Chang-min (Q)

bf!Changmin drabble

Ju Haknyeon

road trip and bucket lists (ft. Kevin) (on hiatus) 1

THE ROSE

Lee Hajoon

fairy tales aren’t real 1 | 2

TREASURE 13

Watanabe Haruto 

snowball

WANNA ONE

*I know they are disbanded now but my works are labelled wanna one so hehe*

Kang Daniel

you’re mine

bf! kang daniel: gummies

X1

Lee Eunsang

what in the holly?

SOLO ARTISTS

Kim Samuel

stuck with you

[shkudss]

Weakened by Eywa Pt. 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Masterlist

Summary: Ao’nung finally realizes that his actions have consequences

Warnings: curse words, bullying, mental breakdown, English isn’t my first language

Author’s note: it my first Avatar writing, so I hope you like it! This idea was spontaneous and I’m not really good at writing, but I hope you’ll enjoy it! I’m still learning how to use Tumblr properly since I don’t really use it 🥲

Yawntutsyip - darling, little loved one

Yaymak - foolish, ignorant

You thought that all these days when you flew to the water clans were the hardest in you life. Little did you know that life with Metkayina would be harder. You expected to finally live a normal life, doing your chores without being sacred to be shot by sky people. Now you’re safe, but things didn’t get better.

Since your arrival, these boys were bullying all your siblings, including you. You have no idea why it is important for Ao’nung to see totally similar to him Na’vis. You all are same avatars with slight differences that were unavoidable due to the environment you’re supposed to live in. Oh, yeah… supposed to live.

“What are you even doing here?”

“You’re so useless to our tribe”

“Go back to your monkey house”

All these words almost engraved in you mind without leaving space for other thoughts and hope. It’s been two weeks since you arrived and you still haven’t ridden an Ilu successfully, you can’t hold your breath as Metkayinas do. This makes you feel horrible and believe all these mean words.

“C’mon, Y/N, you can do it!”

Neteyam is trying to teach you how to deal with ilu and his voice is so calming, he really believes in you as an older brother. You wish you could just believe him, but insecurity lays too deep and securely in your mind.

“I don’t know… I can’t…”

Your voice was really soft and quiet as you’re the calmest child in your family. You don’t like loud sounds and fast actions. That’s just the way you are. Neytiri says that Sylwanin was just like you.

Despite being slower and more sensitive that other Sullys they loved and protected you with all their heart. Jake knew that Kiri and Tuk are different, they can deal with their problems a lot easier, while you cannot. When something bad to your family or yourself happens, you worry a lot and you won’t tell anyone about your worries unless they make you to. That was the hardest part of you character.

“Hey, are you okay? Do you need to take a break? We can continue tomorrow, don’t worry yawntutsyip.”

Neteyam was worried about your mental state, you were too quiet these days and it never meant anything good. Trying to make you speak about your feelings was completely impossible. You always think that your family has too much to worry about to burden them with your own issues. You want to be like Kiri and Tuk. That’s hilarious, Tuk is way younger than you but she’s able to deal with her emotions way easier than you.

“I’m good. Can we just take a break for like half an hour? I think my brain melts.”

You awkwardly smiled at the end trying to lighten the mood. Neteyam smiled back, feeling relief as you seemed to be just tired. He didn’t want you to hide anything from him and your family.

“Okay, yawntutsyip. I’ll go find Lo’ak and make sure his ass hadn’t get in trouble again. Kiri is on that side of the beach by the way. You can join her, she’s probably flirting with plants again. Let’s meet here in an hour.”

You laughed at his little joke about Kiri. But that’s a fact. Since you arrived here all she’s been doing is examining all local flora and fauna. You missed your time together in the forest, maybe now you’ll have a chance to talk and just be together.

“Okay!”

“Tell me if something goes wrong.”

You knew this look. The big brother look. Sometimes you think how hard it would be for you to live without your family, the way you’re connected to them something really fascinating. And one of your love signs is time. Spending time with your family and each member is the way you show love, the way you feel protected and loved.

You see Kiri laying down in water and looking for something. She didn’t see anyone around, attracted by… water? You didn’t try to understand what’s going on in her mind.

“Hey, pandora geek.”

You stood in front of Kiri and the shadow from your body covered her. Only after that she raised her head and squinted at you.

“I thought you’re with Neteyam. What’s wrong?” She sat on the sand, water was covering her legs a little. You did the same thing, hugging your knees and placing your head on them.

“We took a break, my brain doesn’t work properly. I still can’t ride ilu.”

Hopeless sigh made your sister chuckle, but then she saw your eyes. They were full of sadness, you were not happy. Kiri felt guilt, as your sister she had to be with you, she forgot that Sullys stick together.

“What bothers you?” You were not sure if it’ll be okay to tell her everything. But you family always encourage you to speak what lays in your heart, so you decided to do it.

“There’s a lot… I miss home, I miss flying with you, Neteyam and Lo’ak around Hallelujah mountains.” You were vulnerable now and this is one of those rare moments when you opened your feelings easily. Kiri was the only one you did it with. You could feel tears coming to your eyes, you needed this. “I just miss our way of life. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to get used to it. Especially, when you always hear…”

“Hey monkeys! Still can’t ride ilu? How can you be so yaymak? You’re both freaks!” you could recognize this voice in millions. “One sister has demon blood, another is too dumb to do things that even infants can do!”

Ao’nung and his friends were coming towards you. Kiri’s body immediately tensed, you could feel it.

“What do you want? Is there nothing to do?”

Ao’nung and his friends came closer and you both stood up. Kiri was looking at him angrily, ready to fight. You were supposed to have such a good conversation, opening each other your soul, but this bully spoiled everything.

“My goal for now is to get rid of such fake Na’vis like you two and your stupid little brother.”

You were furious, how dare he talk like this about your family. Yes, he did say mean things to you, but he still picked his words. Now it’s too much. Nobody can talk about your family this way.

“Shut up and don’t get close to me and my siblings!” You tried to get into protective sister mode. Kiri was shocked by the way you raised your voice. She’s never heard such tone from you before.

“Look at this! Little girl knows how to talk?” Ao’nung was teasing you and laughing with Roxto and the rest of his friends. “Maybe you’ll learn how to swim properly soon by the time my future brother or sister will turn 10. Hopefully.”

You clenched your fists, trying to hold all your emotions. Anger, offense, sadness. It felt like a hurricane of extremely high spectrum of emotions, which was hard for you to bear.

“Don’t you dare…”

You didn’t control yourself that you were coming closer and pushing him. The reason why you felt this way was in him.

He did this to you.

You didn’t care that he was taller than you and all you faced was his shoulders. You didn’t care that he barely moved as you tried to hurt him as much as he hurt you. All he did was laughing. It seemed like Ao’nung didn’t understand anything you said, like he didn’t see you breaking into pieces right in front of you.

“Calm down, you little skxawng!” It was a joke for him. For you it was your last piece of composure.

“You’re dumb! So dumb that you can’t even understand how much pain you give me! Every day I wish I don’t meet you so you won’t shower me with all your shit! Every night I cry myself to sleep because all your mean words you’ve said hurt me! And you don’t understand me, how can you be so mean?”

You were screaming at him and trying to hit, mental breakdown took over your senses. You could physically feel how your heart hurts and legs weaken. All sounds were heard as if from under the water, you didn’t see what’s going on around you. Someone’s holding your shoulders and pushing you to their chest to not let you fall on your knees.

“Don’t touch her!”

Furious voice sounded from afar. Neteyam. Your brother who always protects you, surrounds you with love you need. That’s why he calls you yawntutsyip. Little loved one.

You could feel your brother as he came closer to you. His steps were as heavy as his mood. When he saw you breaking down in front of this asshole and because of this asshole, he almost lost his temper. The way chief’s son was holding and looking at you, finally realizing that his actions have consequences. He had to drive you crazy to understand it.

“Back off! Now!”

He pushed Ao’nung as he got closer to him, taking off his hands off you. You didn’t realize it was him, who held you all this time. Was it long? Actually, everything happened in less than 2 minutes, but for you it was like an infinity.

“What happened?”

Lo’ak was here, he saw you crying in Kiri’s hands and Neteyam fighting with Ao’nung and his friends. He didn’t need to check on all details to punch Roxto and other guys.

“It’s fine, we’re here. Don’t worry.” Kiri was sitting with you and slowly swaying, while tapping your head to calm you down.

“I’m sorry, I…” that’s all you could say.

Neither you nor Kiri noticed how the fight stopped until Neteyam came closer and examined you. His eyebrow was cut so as his lower lip, but he didn’t care. Now he could feel only your pain.

“Yawntutsyip… my sister.”

“I’m sorry, Neteyam. I didn’t…” You were gasping for breath from crying, not being able to collect your thoughts.

“Shhh, that’s fine, you’re fine. We’re here, nobody will hurt you again.” Kiri gave you to Neteyam, he was calming you down repeating the same moves as Kiri did. You were crying, letting all pain, that was suppressed inside of your soul, to flow through you.

Your siblings knew that you need to feel it to let it go. That is the only way for relief.

“Let’s go home, yawntutsyip?” Neteyam’s voice was calming as always, he hated seeing you crying.

You just nodded in agreement, hiding your face in brother’s neck and holding him as if someone can take you from him in any moment.

Yes, most Na’vis are brave, ready to fight and protect their beloved ones. But you just can’t do it. You are the one who needs to be protected. Eywa created you that way and you can do nothing about it.

“Don’t ever come to our sisters, you little bitch! Are you so insecure that you’re afraid to battle with me and choose those who are weaker than you?” Lo’ak didn’t miss to say the last goodbye before following after all of you. He didn’t wait for the answer, he didn’t need it.

Ao’nung was standing up there and looking as your figures disappear. No words are in his mind, except for one.

“Fuck”

————————————————————————

I hope you liked it! I’m not sure if I’ll write the second part🫣 I have an idea but idk if it’s worth it, we’ll see!

[the-doomed-witch]

✦ You’re An Idiot & I Love You

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: After Thanos, you and Wanda quit the team to live a peaceful life together, trying to leave behind the trauma. (Read warnings)

Word Count: 4.0k

Author’s Note: hello here’s another fic, i’ve been working on it since almost a week :) i cannot stop listening to 305 by shawn mendes so i based the latter part of this fic on the song <3 the initial part is just a vent fic lmao. i’m thinking of writing a part two, but i don’t really know. my gif btw!

Warnings: 18+ MINORS+MEN DNI. traumatic past events, post-war trauma, flashbacks & nightmares, smut, thigh riding, fingering, praise kink, names (princess), a little angst, fluffy | best friends to lovers

Masterlist

YOU ARE NOT PERMITTED TO REPOST OR COPY MY WORK.

— ✦ —

You hit the pause button on your phone, look at the clouds and sigh. The park near your home is an amazing place to be, with all its flora, and a clearer view of the sky. Cities are so full of buildings, it’s almost impossible to see a clear sky outside the park anymore.

Whenever anxiety comes over, sitting on the park bench and listening to white noise helps you calm down. It also helps Wanda know where to take you when you aren’t at your best.

Sometimes she would hold your hand and sit next to you, listening to the same sound in a different pair of headphones. It’s truly therapeutic for both of you. The events of the past few years have been deeply disturbing for the entire team of Avengers. So you and Wanda decided to quit the team, and swore that both of you wouldn’t never exercise your powers again. Of course, there could be exceptional cases where the use of powers is ultimately the only way, but it’s mostly nothing to do with your simple lives.

Wanda goes to a therapist sometimes, and has offered you to try it out too, several times. You just deny with a simple shake of your head, and keep the topic aside. You’re happy to see her get better, settle her unsolved traumas, and accept Vision’s death.

“I knew you’d be here.” Wanda walks up to you, which is also the reason why you clicked the pause button. You give her a sincere smile, which she returns happily.

“Guess I’ve developed a little longing for this place. I can’t help but be here, I feel the safest here when you aren’t around.”

“Oh Y/N, you know I always come back home and always will. You’re my best friend, and the only one. I’m so happy that living together has worked out for the both of us.”

“So am I, Wands. I know I don’t have to run around the compound looking for you anymore.” Smiling with melancholy, you continue, “I miss bumping into our friends while doing that.”

She sighs deeply. There are memories of Vision in her mind, but they don’t feel like a dagger anymore. They are just bittersweet feelings for a star-crossed love. “Y/N, it’s been years since we left the team. Do you think they miss us? I wish we had parted with no hard feelings.”

“I think that it’s fine. It’s been years, nothing big has happened. And I hope it only stays this way. I don’t care if someone is still pissed off after so long, the war damaged us just as it did them, and we are still recovering.”

“But Y/N… you’re just refusing it all. There’s no point in being delusional. It’s affecting you, and your mental health in a really bad way.”

“I know but I cannot help it Wanda! I have had nothing before the Avengers, I don’t even know what I am grieving for. I haven’t had anyone to go home to since forever, and now that I have it, I wouldn’t change it for anything. Not even for friends who’d have hard feelings against me after I choose to live a life post-war.” You feel like you’ve spoken too much, because you feel like tearing up.

Wanda comes closer to you and hugs you tight. “Y/N, honey, it’s okay I’m right here.”

You sit there with her, since there’s nothing else you can do right now. For several minutes, none of you loosen the grip, too scared that either of you could turn to dust.

— ✦ —

On the way back home, you hold hands like little kids. Living with your best friend has got to be the best decision you’ve ever made. Feels like she holds a key to the corner of your heart that nobody has dared to discover.

“Hey, what are you thinking?” she moves closer and sits next to you on the couch.

“Nothing, just that you’re probably my favourite person in the whole world.”

“Stop being so cheesy and tell me the truth.”

“It is the truth. I love being with you Wanda, I love you.”

“I love you too, Y/N. Your existence lights up mine. I don’t want to leave you, ever.”

You give her a kiss on the cheek, and reply, “I will not leave you, ever.” After being through all the devastating events together, you’ve both developed quite a habit of sitting together in silence and thinking. Snapping out of the state, you go to your room to sleep. Or maybe just lay down. Wanda remains in the living room.

— ✦ —

It’s almost 4:30AM and you haven’t slept. Thoughts about Thanos, his army, your teammates, Natasha, and Tony come back. Illusions of blasts, gore and doom fill up your mind. Countless number of people have lost loved ones.

Maybe, just maybe, you could have done something to save your friends. Resentment and regret feel like two old friends who come to lay down next to you.

Wanda is in her room, you can sense her sleeping. It would be a good thing to have someone to talk to, but not that great if you’d have to wake her up. Eyes open, you go back to staring at the ceiling. Tears begin pooling in the corners of your eyes, ready to roll down any moment now.

Silently, you sniff away the mildest nightmare of the night.

— ✦ —

You sit at your desk a couple of hours later, and begin writing something that you don’t know. “Good morning. You're up early?” Wanda walks in. She’s still wearing her shorts and tank top. And she looks damn fine.

“Good morning. Also, what do you mean by ‘up’?” you reply back sarcastically.

“Oh well, don’t tell me you stayed up all night. Now come here, you desperately need a morning hug.”

“You’re a hundred and ten percent correct.”

You get up and go hug her closely. She rubs your back and whispers words of reassurance in your ear. You just hold her and smell her messy hair. You’re sure she used your shampoo but it only makes you want to hug her tighter. After letting go, you look at her face adoringly and tell her sincerely, “You look pretty. So pretty.” She blushes and pushes your shoulder lightly, as a friendly gesture.

“Stop teasing me! I haven’t even had my coffee yet. I’m gonna have to sound mad at you if you make fun of me right now.”

“You think I’m joking? You look fucking gorgeous. Not even kidding, I’d kiss you if we were toge-” You regain consciousness and regret saying anything at all. Should’ve told her I’m being satirical for no reason, you think.

“What was that you said?”

“Nothing.”

“No no, you said something. Say it.”

“Uhhhh that I was making fun of you for nothing. Go tie a bun or something.”

“Did you just say that you would kiss me?”

“What?! No!”

“Okay, if you say so. I don’t trust my ears anyway.” She simply walks out of the room with an air of smugness.

During breakfast, she asks you a question you never expected, but should’ve seen coming. “But like, let’s say hypothetically, would you kiss me if I asked you to?”

You almost choke on the toast. “Wanda, let me have my breakfast in peace. Please.”

“Another question, who would you kiss? Who is your type even? I’ve literally never seen you talk about this in almost over a decade of our friendship. Come on, Y/N, there’s got to be someone.”

“No Wanda, I don’t have a type. If someone is for me, they’re for me. There’s no one that I like right now.”

Her face grew serious and her smile faltered. “You know I can read your mind if I want to, don’t you?”

“I know that. I also know you wouldn’t break a promise to know about a possible date of mine or something.”

“Fine, you win.”

— ✦ —

You’ve been in the park almost all day again. But your mind has been thinking of something else today.

Why did I even say that at all? Would I even kiss her? Would she kiss me back at all? She probably still misses Vision. She literally loved him so much, they were perfect together. No, I shouldn’t even think of this. Especially when Wanda loved Vision so much, and probably still does. But then again it’s just ‘probably’. SHUT UP Y/N.

Screw this. I don’t want to kiss her at all. Never ever.

— ✦ —

“Well you came back quickly, I didn’t even have to come to the garden to bring you back. That’s new.”

“Yeah I guess?”

“Too tempted to kiss me, aren’t you honey?”

“Can you please stop with that Wanda? I don’t even know why I said that at all. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause awkwardness between us. But you’re kind of amplifying it and it’s making me uncomfortable. Can we just not do this? You simply looked gorgeous, that’s all. And I’m not the one to kiss someone just because of how they look. Just leave this.”

“Oh-uhm, okay Y/N. I’m sorry, let’s not make anything uncomfortable for either one of us.”

Wanda seemed deeply hurt by your evidently irritated reply. For a moment, she also felt terror-stricken. It was a side of you that she had seen, but never faced before.

“Thank you. Do you need some help with dinner?”

“Nah it’s almost ready. You might want to set up the table though.”

“Most certainly.”

— ✦ —

The following week is all the same. Everything is sort of normal. Morning comes, you have breakfast with Wanda, you go to the park, Wanda comes to pick you up in the evening, you both have dinner, go back to your own rooms, and you grieve.

A parcel arrives in the mail. It’s addressed to “Y/N Maximoff” and you’re quite unsure how that feels like. Wanda takes notice of it, but says nothing. You kind of wish she’d say something about it. Wanda makes mention of going back to her chores, but you ask her, “Don’t you want to know what’s in the box? I mean, they could’ve mistaken either one of our names.”

“Not really, you can go ahead and open it.”

It was a real bummer. You feel guilty about her attitude towards you. You know something is definitely off with Wanda. You sure have had fights and arguments with her before, but none of them have made her turn away like this. You keep the box aside and decide to open it once Wanda starts talking to you again.

I mean, we are talking but you know what I mean, you tell yourself. And find it stupid. However, the rest of the day continues.

You decide against going to the dear park today, considering how pissed off Wanda already seemed. There has got to be something which could make up her mood.

“Hey Wands, you wanna watch a sitcom? It’s been a while since we sat together to watch one.”

“No Y/N, you can watch it by yourself. I’ve got some work to do.”

And in the same way, she was successful at avoiding spending time with you through any other activity. She was mad at you. You had to clear things with her as soon as possible, before she could find a hundred more reasons to be mad at you.

By the time evening arrived, all the work should definitely have been done. You did not disturb Wanda during her online work even though you’d do that normally whenever you stayed at home.

“Wanda, I need to talk to you. Please stop walking around. You aren’t even listening to me! Just wait for a few minutes. Tell me what is wrong.” You hold her hand to hold her back from leaving.

She takes a deep breath and questions you, “Why do you think something is wrong? Besides, you are the one who did not go have her nerves calmed at a park today but I didn’t go around poking in your business. Leave my hand!”

“Hey, hey take it easy. Wanda, your face literally says “I am pissed off but I want you to guess what it is about” and since I honestly cannot figure it out so I’m simply asking you. If you don’t want to tell me then nevermind. Whatever it is, I am sorry.”

“I don’t want your apologies, keep them with you. And you can go do whatever the hell you want, I don't feel like talking to you right now. Also yes, I am pissed off.” Wanda’s voice slowly rises with every word she speaks, and a little discussion transforms into a heated argument.

“Fine, if that’s what you want. I won’t talk to you and I’m not even going to speak a word around you. You can say au revoir to my voice because I’m not gonna say anything. Night!”

“Yeah, as if I wanna hear you talk. I’m tired of it anyways. Night!”

Both of you have gone to bed without having dinner. And your mind is playing with you again. Flashbacks of not only the greatest war, but also your biggest fight with your best friend till now. You can hear her words echo in your mind.

“Yeah as if I wanna hear you talk. I’m tired of it anyways.”

“You can go do whatever the hell you want.”

“Leave my hand.”

In all these years, you have never heard her asking you to stop holding her hand. It was too heartbreaking to even imagine it.

— ✦ —

Wanda doesn’t talk to you the following day. Or the one after. Or the next. No calling you for the meal, no coming to pick you up from the park, nothing. You feel like you have had enough, so you approach her directly.

“So, do you want me to move out or something?”

“No Y/N.”

“Then speak your mind Wanda, I don’t even know what’s going on.”

“‘Speak your mind’ you say? Okay, here goes nothing.”

Without hesitation, she places her hand on the back of your neck and pulls you closer. For a moment, she stares into your eyes, and then kisses you deeply. You’re feeling both surprised, and satisfied. She closes her eyes to just feel you, and you place your hands in her hair. Her lips leave a trail as they move down to your neck, you tilt your head upwards to grant her all the access she would need. Wanda bites your skin and you let out a rough moan, driving her completely crazy.

That’s when you realise. Your best friend is marking your neck and you have no idea what’s going on. You gently motion for her to stop, which, reluctantly, she complies with.

“What?”

She clearly wants to go back to the moment, so she breathlessly asks you in return, “What?”

“Wanda.”

“Y/N.” She looks at you with a grin and pecks your lips again. “Alright, fine, let me explain.”

“Yes please, because as much as I love it, I’m still clueless.”

“I just have one question, now that you know, would you ever kiss me?”

Your cheeks redden up at her question. You avoid eye contact, gulp, and reply, “If you want then yes.”

She probably wants to growl and bang her head against the wall. “WHY DON’T YOU TELL ME HOW YOU FUCKING FEEL ABOUT ME?! CAN’T YOU SEE?!”

“See what Wanda?”

“Oh my God I cannot believe this. You are an idiot and I love you so fucking much.”

“Wa-”

“Don’t you dare say another word, I hate you! You’re just acting-” You shut her up by kissing her intensely, and again, and again, and yet again.

After pulling yourself away, you need some fresh air. So you sit on the couch, and beckon Wanda to follow. As soon as you’re sat, she decides to sit on your thigh, facing you. She slips her hands inside your t-shirt and seeks your permission, “Can I?” You smile and nod back at her, giving her consent.

She unhooks your bra, and cups your breasts in her hands each. Gently, she begins stimulating them. Your shoulders relax as she helps you feel lighter. You shut your eyes as Wanda gets you all worked up.

Suddenly, she pulls out her hands. You open your eyes and frown, uncertain about what happened. Wanda rubs herself against your thigh, making you moan by feeling her wetness. “Take off your shirt.” She directs you. You do as asked, and she’s met with the sight of your bare upper body. She immediately dives in to lick and play with your nipples, as you close your eyes again. Quite occasionally, you managed to say the same two coherent words; “Oh Wanda…”

She loves seeing you this way. It’s been years since she saw you relieve your stress. She hovers on your top, and connects her lips with your lips once again.

After a long heavy make out session, you decide to consider her wetness still lingering on your thigh. Grabbing her by the hips, you guide her for a pace. She’s in her yellow cotton shorts, and probably wouldn’t mind ruining them even more for you. Her moans get louder and louder till she finally says, “Y/N I’m gonna-”

“Yes honey, do it.” was all it needed for the knot in her stomach to release as she made a mess on your thigh. You slip two fingers within her heat to help her ride it out slowly. You mutter small praises to help her stabilise herself after her climax. Words like “You’re such a good girl” and “You did so well, princess” clearly had an effect on her. When you’re done and you pull out your hand from her dripping cunt, you let Wanda have a seat beside you.

She keeps on breathing heavily, but then looks at the sight of you licking your fingers clean. It was irrestitable for her, she had to pull you into a deep kiss. It was evident — she loved kissing you, whether it was a cute peck, a make out session, or just her catching her breath.

“Let me return the favour detka.” She requests you. You feel like it isn’t really necessary, but you don’t feel like breaking the moment so you let her do it. She pulls down your shorts, and begins teasing you over the panties with her fingers. You arch your back and groan, “Wanda please don’t-” So she bends and kisses your clothed core once before helping you strip off.

Slowly, she pushes in a finger, then adds another one. You spontaneously grasp her shoulders, which perturbs her. So she withdraws her fingers and looks at you tenderly and asks, “Y/N, are you really okay with this?”

“It’s just that… it’s been so long since I have…”

“Hey, I understand. If you want me to stop I can stop right away. You are always my first priority.”

“No, I want this Wanda. Everything feels so right, after so long.”

She slowly kisses you again, and this time not leaving out a single space she hasn’t discovered yet. Before you could do anything, she filled your intimacy with her fingers yet again. It’s an agonisingly slow pace, and it makes you shudder underneath her. “You look so gorgeous Y/N. You’re the most beautiful person I know, inside and out.” You can only breathe heavily in response because you’re (i) speechless, (ii) cuntful.

Gradually, she picks up the speed for you. Echoes of your pants and screams fill the room, and Wanda is enjoying every single bit of it. Soon enough, you were ready for your release. You try to warn her, but she understands your signal and whispers gently, “Come for your princess, Y/N.” It was all you needed to make a mess all over her fingers. She rides you through it as your elevated heartbeat goes back to normal.

She watches you with affection, and moments later you return Wanda’s gaze. She sits beside you again, and you both are in a familiar comfortable silence all over again. You decide to break it and bring up the previous conversation, “So… I guess I love you too? You’re the idiot by the way.”

“What do you mean that you guess? If you want to play the game then don’t forget you’re the naked one here and I can tease you really bad.”

“Oh really princess?” You wink at her and shift closer to her. She wraps her arm around you and says, “Let’s get a little cleaned up. I’m feeling a little hungry.”

You innocently ask her, “What do you want to eat?” but her mind is already running towards the wrong places. She swallows and replies, “A cup of green tea would do for me right now, would you like one?” You shake your head in the positive and get up.

— ✦ —

You two sit on the balcony to have the green tea. It’s late at night and the city is asleep. Your mind stares at the dark sky, still not quite visible because of the buildings. Wanda looks towards you the same time you look at her, she’s smiling. “Look at the moon Y/N!” She points towards it. Your gaze stays fixed on Wanda.

“I am looking at her. She’s breathtaking.”

— ✦ —

The following morning was enchanting as ever. You wake in Wanda’s arms, who is already lying awake next to you, waiting for you. “Good morning detka,” she whispers, “I hope you had a nice sleep.”

Morning laziness takes over you, so you hug her tightly and hum. She giggles and rubs your back with her hand, indicating for you to not doze off again. You groan, “I feel like I've slept after years, probably the first time ever.”

“It’s because you are sleeping for the first time in years. I love seeing you like this, but you need to wake up lyubov.”

“Fine, but you have to answer my question.”

“Go ahead.”

“What were you mad about, yesterday and before that?”

She hides her face behind your shoulder. “It’s stupid.” You hold her chin softly and tilt her head so she’s facing you. She sighs.

“Fine. I just didn’t realise how badly I’ve ever wanted to kiss you until you accidentally said that you’d kiss me if we were together. I’ve never been around someone who I could sit together with, listening to some white noise, and feel at home with. Hell, I’ve never been with anyone who could tell me they love me with my morning face. And then you backed off by acting all I-would-never-kiss-you so I was just a little pissed off. I’m sorry. You see, it’s stupid.”

“It isn’t, you’re just an idiot in love with another idiot. Also, don’t you dare say anything about your morning face. Your freckles, your faded accent, your natural hair - my goodness Wanda, I’d seriously kiss you if we were together.” You place little pecks all over her face, making her chuckle. “I love you Wanda.”

“And I love you Y/N.”

You hear the doorbell ring out of the blue. Against your will, you had to get up and open the door. There’s the mail for the day - a few bills, and a small box, addressed to “Y/N Maximoff” again.

You call Wanda outside the room. When she comes next to you, you ask her, “This is the second box. What do you think it is?” She arches her eyebrows suspiciously and takes the box away from you to keep it next to the bowl of keys. “We can find that out later.” she says before kissing your neck.

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

All Things Lovely

Pairing || TFATWS!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary || Bucky takes you on a cute date for your birthday and treats you like a princess for the day.

Word Count || 1676

Contents & Warnings || Fluff — no warnings other than some tooth-rotting and disgusting fluff <3

Authors Note || This is for @the-slumberparty Blast From The Past Challenge. This fic is a direct continuation of my All Things Pink fic. For more context, I highly recommend you go and read that one, but this continuation can be read as a stand-alone as well.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

TFATWS!Bucky Masterlist

You still had no idea where Bucky was taking you for the birthday date as he and you walked through your busy neighbourhood. You only knew that the whole day would be his treat and that he would take you to multiple places.

The first destination wasn’t that far; he said—only about fifteen minutes from your apartment complex.

As you walked, talked, laughed, and held hands, you found it so much easier not to be such a flustering and shy mess around him as you’d been in your apartment just a few minutes ago.

Your senses had gotten accustomed to all of him, but you still felt that incredible pleasant tingling sensation across your skin and butterflies in your stomach at being with him—floating on a fluffy cloud when you were in his presence.

After a few more minutes of walking, you arrived at a park. The pleasant day out made the lush and bright shrubbery shine in the sun and cascade an aura of peace and warmth. The abundant colourful flora throughout made the scenery that much prettier.

He walked you a little deeper into the greenery of trees and bushes, and there, nestled almost in secrecy, was a cute little pop-up cafe.

“Oh, Bucky. This is so lovely,” you sigh fondly as you clutched his hand in an affectionate grip.

He hummed as he kissed your head. “I knew you would like it, gorgeous.”

There were lots of drinks and delicious desserts to choose from at the little coffee truck. And you decided on a cappuccino and a cupcake with soft pink frosting on top. Bucky ordered the same and paid for it like the gentleman he was.

You found your seats on the few tables in front of the truck—enjoying the scenery, the drinks, and each other.

The conversation flowed so easily with Bucky. You always had loads to talk and laugh about—getting lost in one another like it was only you and him in the world. During the few silent moments, there was no awkwardness in the slightest, and all you did was bask in each other’s presence.

A stripe of sunlight beamed down upon you—warming your skin. You reached up, closing your eyes and enjoying the sun on your face, making you hum in approval.

Bucky couldn’t believe how radiant you looked in the sunshine. Your skin glowed like never before, making you look like ethereal beauty. It made you even more breathtakingly beautiful, if that was even possible.

He placed his hand on yours that rested on the table and squeezed it before caressing the skin with his thumb, making you focus your attention on him.

He held the same gaze as he had in your apartment—an expression of utter adoration at the perfection in front of him.

“What is it, Bucky?” You asked shyly—becoming flustered due to his intense aura of love and appreciation.

He suppressed a loving chuckle and shook his head. “I just can’t get over your beauty, doll. You’re perfect.” His smile was the most genuine ever.

Just as in your apartment, you felt a rush of heat flush your face, and your ears became extremely hot at his compliment.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you mumbled timidly as you looked down at your now interlocked hands. Your intertwined fingers fit perfectly together, and you never wanted to let go.

Bucky lovingly chuckled again at your adorableness before striking up yet another topic to discuss as you continued to enjoy the rest of your coffee and cupcake…

It hadn’t even felt like an hour and a half once you were done at the coffee truck. Being in such wonderful company made the time fly by. But Bucky was now keen on taking you to the next destination for your birthday date.

Again, hand in hand, you walked while in your own world of striking conversation and loving laughter. And before you knew it, Bucky stopped you in front of a bookstore—a cozy little place.

Your eyes beamed bright, and a smile displayed across your face.

There was no greater happiness than browsing a bookstore for hours on end—surrounded by tales of love, mystery, horror, and fantasy. So many stories to get lost in. And it was exhilarating that you would have Bucky beside you now—a huge book nerd as well.

“Come on, gorgeous.” He pulled you inside enthusiastically. Just as excited as you were. “You can choose whichever books you want. It’s all on me.”

You and he browsed aisle after aisle of books. Both of you getting lost in the striking bindings and the captivating descriptions of the books—trying to find the few that stood out the most and suited best for your personal taste.

You discussed your favourite authors and debated theories about books and their truest meanings.

Time seemed to be an irrelevant factor when it came to books, and you’d completely lost track of it until the store clerk kindly let you know they would be closing up soon.

You and Bucky met up front to go over the books you’d picked out.

There were, with no exaggeration, hundreds of books that you wanted. But you could never take advantage of Bucky’s kind nature like that, so you picked out two that were on the top of your reading list.

Bucky had chosen two for himself, as well as a third one that he held out to you.

“I don’t know if you’ve read it, but it’s my absolute favourite,” he beamed.

The Hobbit. Such a popular book, and, for some reason, you’d never read it. But hearing that it was Bucky’s all-time favourite, you would start on it first thing tonight.

“I haven’t read it, but it’s always been on my list,” you admitted in embarrassment.

“Great! I’m buying it for you then.”

You handed him the rest of your books for him to pay. He examined one of them in particular with a smirk on his face, turning it over in his hand. The binding and cover was bright pink, with a beautiful artwork on the front and white text.

“Can’t tell you I’m not surprised,” he teased—his chuckle of the loving kind.

“Hey! I’m really interested in it. And not only because it’s pink,” you teased back as you pushed his shoulder playfully.

He kissed your temple and interlocked your fingers. “Of course, doll.”

As you walked out of the bookstore, you couldn’t help but feel a warm and content feeling in your chest. The experience of browsing books with someone who shared the same passion for reading as you did was just perfect. You and Bucky continued to talk about the books you had picked out and your excitement to start reading them while you walked back to your apartment.

“Thank you so much, Bucky, for everything today. The coffee, the books, just everything. I couldn’t have asked for a better birthday,” you mumbled as you stood outside your front door, looking down at your interlocked hands. You were shy now as the impending goodbye approached.

Bucky pinched your chin and lifted your face so you could hold his gaze. “Anything for you, doll. I’m glad you had a great time,” he replied with a smile.

He was so close now, making you gasp. Your lips brushed together, causing your head to whirl due to his sweet aroma. His eyes glimmered intensely—the most perfect blues you could drown in. You had trouble breathing due to his extreme proximity.

He cupped your face, making your knees tremble. His thumb caressed your soft skin, appreciating the texture before he slowly closed the distance and placed the sweetest of kisses on your lips—laced with passion and love. Your mind exploded. Your skin tingled, and your nerves were electrified. There was no greater pleasure than kissing Bucky.

The kiss developed into one of yearning and need. Both of you wanted it to progress and for it to never end.

You snaked your fingers in the hairs at his nape and pressed your lips harder to his. Bucky’s other hand was placed at the small of your back, pulling you flush into his chest.

Bucky swiped his tongue to your lower lip, and you parted your mouth in a moan to welcome him. His tongue softly caressed yours. It was hot and steamy, and a new wave of pleasurable sensation hit you hard, almost knocking you to the ground.

Although you wanted nothing more than kiss him till the end of time, you had to pull away for a breath and calm your beating heart before it leaped out of your chest and before you turned to putty in his grasp.

You softly cursed under your uneven breath as you hid in his chest, making Bucky chuckle heartily. He kissed your forehead in a lingering touch before cupping your cheeks and making you look at him again. The same intense and loving gaze held in his face.

He leaned in, and your calming heart fluttered up again as he placed one last loving kiss on your lips, lingering them there for a moment. When he pulled away, he brushed his nose with yours, making you both giggle softly.

You didn’t want the night to end. You didn’t want him to leave. You never wanted to stop kissing him. You needed him—more than you needed breathing.

“Do you want to come inside?” You mumbled as your fingertips ran down his cheek. “I know Alpine would love to have you over, as would I. Maybe we can watch a movie and order dinner? Or start on some of the books? And then maybe after we can have....”

You couldn’t finish the sentence. That last word hitched in your throat. You were shy in telling him that you wanted to take a giant leap in your relationship and end the night with burning passion.

Bucky understood wholeheartedly what you wanted, and his face beamed in acceptance. He wanted all of it, just like you. He craved and longed for it.

“You know I would love nothing more, gorgeous.”

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