#and if no one gives a crap either way then i might as well spit it out instead of letting it just fester in my brain and die in my notes

[slashingdisneypasta]

Foxy Coltrane x Crazy!Reader || Headcanons

Topic: Foxy with an S/O who hates Otis.

Warnings: Hating on Otis, curses, threats, smuttiness (Specifically meaning talk of cum, penis, and um... volume+proximity to other people)... look, its Driftwood-Coltrane fanfiction. Its not gonna be clean.

For as long as you've known this family, which is pretty much as long as you've been friends with Foxy (He brought you home his next time visiting them. He said you're crazy and you'll fit right in- which you do XD )- you have h a t e d Otis.

He brushed you the wrong way immediately when one of the first things he said near you was putting Foxy down (Someone you really like. Someone you genuinely just click with. Someone who later becomes more then a friend). You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, I mean brothers do mess with each other right?

But goddamnit. The more you tried to look for a redeeming quality in this piece-of-crap man, the less you liked him. He was just gross. He's gross, and cranky, and god d a m n i t, those r a n t s. Just shut up! You're not as smart as you think! No one is listening to you. You're the boss of no one!

Anyway, so your stance on Otis has been pretty steady since the beginning. You god along great with everyone else, cuz like Foxy said you a r e crazy, so they loved you and they didn't put you off at all. You could even have a good time with them when Otis was there, you just didn't really interact with him.

As for Otis' own feelings... well, Otis doesn't like anyone (Except maybe Baby. And he clearly has a soft spot for Mama Firefly too otherwise he would never have come down to dinner in the first movie and brought... whoever was in that jar for her. I cant clearly hear the name.). So he pretty much disliked you from the beginning too. Took one look at you, rolled his eyes and moved on.

Foxy... is a big fan of your distaste for his brother honestly XD Like, you like him more??? Really??? Hell yes. He is fucken better.

And every time that you snap at Otis (Whether it be because he said something rude towards your favourite person, Foxy, or just cuz he was getting on your nerves by... you know... existing- ), Foxy just has this shit-eating grin on his face and he'll keep you safe if Otis decides to lash out and try to hurt you for it. He'll aim a loaded shot gun right at his brother and mean it. And Otis will see that he means it.

(Sure, he may not intend to actually kill Otis like you might enjoy, just wound him, but uh- being shot is gonna hurt like a bitch no matter where the wound is)

It turns him on, too. Like goddamn- the moment you grit your teeth and growl or even spit at Otis- Foxy feels himself getting as hard as rock. The first few times this happens, he doesn't both you about it. He's a grown man, he can handle this. And by 'handle this', i do not mean jerk off. I mean he'll just, sort of, adjust his jeans and live with it until he stops being turned on and it softens up again?? He ignores it, basically. Yes, he will have a yucky creamy mess in his underwear (Or? Just his jeans?? I don't know if these men would wear underwear. They stinky) but eh he can live it. He's gross, you must know this.

One day either you notice it (I mean how can you not? I bet you good money Foxy's pretty large, bigger than Otis and thats saying something, and that would create a thick indentation in his pants 😅😅😅), or Foxy draws your attention to it (Having decided that, yeah. He does wanna fuck his friend. Lets give this a try and see if you're into it), and welllllllllll~

That begins your more then friends thing with Foxy XD

And oh! Yes. You can bet your bottom dollar you are extra loud when Foxy's fucking you in the Firefly house. You dont give a fuck if most of the family hears, they don't care themselves (Mama Firefly is probably just like 'Oh good for sweet Winnie~ ^^ ~', Baby rolls her eyes like 'Ugh, i'm trynna watch a fricken movie here!', Spaulding is at work, Tiny figures someone's having a tantrum upstairs which is pretty standard, RJ just leaves like 'fuck this i'd rather be outside anyway', and Grandpa... 😂😂 sorry but Grandpa probably cheers you on- )- you just want Otis to know how good Foxy is in every single aspect. Its a low blow, but hell if you care?? Otis is a bastard.

Foxy thinks your craziness is amusing and adorable, and he's so chuffed that the one you're crazy for is him.

You're also super affectionate with Foxy when Otis is around. I mean, you're normally affectionate with Foxy (How could you not be?? Look at him! Tell me you don't wanna give him kisses and hug him) because he's great, but it definitely hits different when Otis' (self imposed) lonely ass is around to see it. No one wants worship him, do they?? Nope.

Like, you're all over him like some kind of obsessed love-struck freak (And, again, who could blame you? look at him-). Running your hands up his sides or over his chest (Dipping under his shirts sometimes), your lips on is jaw or giving him a very deep very obscene tongue-kiss, sitting sideways his lap so you can still see him and have intimate whisper-little talks with him (And kicking Otis if you're close enough 😅😅), sucking slow and wet hickeys into his neck while he watches his old movies, etc.

Again- Foxy does not mind at all 😂😅😅 He loves it actually. He doesn't move to stop you at all. In fact, if he brings Otis around you (Which he loves to do on purpose, because he loves to see how protective and loving you get about him when you see Otis with him) he will apologise. Like 'Sorry, sweetheart... couldn't get a sitter on such short notice. Its not my fault y'cant schedule your booty calls better, sweet thing... he'll jack off in the bushes or something.'.

You are totally willing to brawl with Otis if you it comes to it!! If he keeps insulting Foxy, or you, or just reach your limit- you have lunged at him before and Foxy has had to catch you, throw you over his shoulder and walk off like 'nope you, crazy pants, are the best fuck i've had in a while; you're not gettin' yourself killed that easy on my watch'.

Otis... Otis is not much more disturbed or pissed by your attitudes towards him then he is by everyone else's annoying little Things that he hates. He's not bothered, basically (Cuz uh, being annoyed and cranky are his default settings), and that pisses you off more.

... but hey. At least Foxy feels good ^^

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Omg I noticed you wrote a small blurb about will powers from ace attorney and wondered if you write some more about him as a pred this time? Something about a big guy like him being so shy yet having such a big appetite (and equally huge dumps) is just so hot

Yeah, he’s definitely my second favorite character for vore ideas so I’d love to get to him!

W.ill sweats a bit in the dingy bathroom stall, a nervous smile on his face as his guts groaned noisily. This really isn't good. This is the fifth time in a month he accidentally digested one of the stunt actors during the fight. And the only reason it's been stunt actors is because he's not allowed to fight the actual actor anymore...not since the recasting. W.ill grunts as another thick log of crap slides out of him, bits of bone and costume giving him a bit of a workout with this dump. The costume department is going to be very angry at another ruined suit--he ends up ruining those half as often as he does the stunt actors. And it's not like W.ill means to keep eating the actors! He just gets so into his role and hungry during the fighting sequences that...well...he can't really control himself. And before he knows it he has some poor guy putting up a fight in his gut. He's never really figured out how to spit people out, either. They all get out eventually but...W.ill winces as a deep fart echos in the bowl under him, followed by a few more logs of crap sliding out. No one really appreciates it when he lets people out like this. It's not as though getting more stunt performers has been much of an issue, at least. But they always have to stop filming while W.ill dumps out the last one and they work on getting another guy in the suit and ready for the sequence. W.ill's pretty sure the only reason he hasn't been fired yet is because the others are a little...scared of him. With how easily he digests those stunt workers on set, he could just as easily do that to anyone else. He's not quick to anger though, he'd never think of doing that, even if he was fired! But...well...the job security is nice at least. With a final push, W.ill gets the last of the shit out of his system. It takes a few flushes to make it all go down but thankfully these crummy toilets are capable of doing their jobs. It'll be a day or two before they're ready to film the scene again...maybe W.ill can snag some lunch then. Just one stunt actor doesn't always fill him up.

W.ill had to do all the fan meet-ups in costume. Something about his face scaring people too much. He didn't really mind though, it was always nice being able to get in character for the crowds. They always seemed to enjoy it a lot! But some fans got too curious about the guy under the mask and they'd follow after W.ill whenever he went to take a break and cool off. Most actors had security to prevent stuff like this, but everyone knew W.ill could handle it on his own just fine. So when three guys thought they'd have an easy chance of sneaking into the dressing room and getting a peek at the guy under the mask, W.ill already knew he'd be taking a bit longer of a break. They're all pulled into the room quickly, the door shutting behind them. "Sorry about this," W.ill says with a nervous smile. "But we have a really strict 'No trespassing' policy." The three men thrash some more in W.ill's arms as he drags the, further into the room. Being in that suit always makes him sweaty, so W.ill realizes this might be a bit cruel, but it's the easiest way to deal with the trespassers. He gets one of their heads wedged into his exposed pecs, letting it disappear right through his thick chest hairs as if they had swallowed him up. W.ill lets go of him, now leaving one arm around one guy as his chest begins to flex and suck its meal deeper. The other two are left stunned, giving W.ill enough time to shuffle off more of his outfit. Once their faces are shoved into his hairy pits, they start thrashing again, but they're being swallowed up just as easily as their pal. The thick musk the actor is terminating must be awful on top of how damp it likely is. W.ill isn't an especially cruel man, even to his meals, but he was told rather explicitly that he can't let any nosy guys see his face and they didn't have the cash for the addition security. He has an hour before he has to be back out there, so his arms and chest flex more and more, sucking the guys deeper. He should get them finished off just in time to get back out there this way. With a flex of his chest, a pair of twitching feet disappear under the hair, and two flexes of his biceps puts away the last two meals. W.ill sighs contently, leaning back on his couch as he continues to flex his arms and chest. His prey yell and wiggle around, bulging out his muscles with their forms. But over time, their bodies begin to break down, growing weaker as W.ill's tenderizes him. Bones begin to pop and crack and his muscles shrink down as he puts his meals away. They'll leave W.ill a bit bulkier but he should still fit in his costume. "I hope the look was worth it at least," W.ill says to prey that can't hear him anymore. He stinks even worse than before after reducing them to stink and muscle mass. Hopefully, the costume masks it...he doesn't want to have to eat a group of fans to stop the bad press of him smelling bad. Again.

W.ill wakes up feeling a bit woozy still. He yawns softly, rubbing his eyes as he comes to. Last night is a bit of a haze. He recalls...going out for some drinks last night to celebrate their season finale filming being done. He recalls a couple guys coming up to him...and he had a few drinks. Then they came back to his place and...W.ill frowns and sits up in bed. His gut sloshes and hangs down in his lap. It's bigger than it had been yesterday, but not big enough for it to be two men. The actor sighs softly and rubs his face a bit. "Not again..." He tries not to bring guys back to his room because this always happens. He has a sleep-eating problem, and it usually doesn't impact him too much. But when there are other guys in his bed, he always seems to go to sleep with them close by and wakes up with his belly mostly done with them. He never means to do it...but he can't stop himself when he's sleeping. And with so many drinks in him, he wasn't thinking straight. W.ill sighs as he gets out of bed, going to the bathroom to plant himself on his toilet. The deep fart he blasts into the toilet helps jolt him awake a bit, as does the pungent smell coming from it when he starts to drop off thick logs of shit. He didn't even remember the two men's faces. Must've been a couple looking to have a bit of fun. W.ill feels bad for digesting them like that...but at least he won't need breakfast. He flushes every so often, careful not to clog his toilet. He hates having those awkward conversations with the plumber over it. Five flushes later and the one-night stand is dumped, letting W.ill get up and go about the rest of his morning. As bad as he might feel, by lunchtime, he won't even be thinking about them anymore. Everyone eventually forgets about the food they ate, after all.

[blushinggray]

Okay ngl I usually don’t post hc’s or updates or ideas about my fics bc I usually wanna keep them “as a surprise” for when I do publish it (if I ever even do lol) or I’ve had this mindset that just talking about writing prevents me or takes time from actually writing. Or that even if I do talk about my feelings/ideas about smth, that no one will really care. Which is why I kinda save it for dm’s with friends/when the topic actually comes up. And even then, I don’t wanna overwhelm them with all my thoughts/ideas so I kind of hold back on some things

But recently I came across this Twitter thread that reminded me that it is perfectly fine to blabber on about the things I like if I want to. And even if no one cares, it’s MY freaking blog. I write for fun and for free and for ME. So I should stop trying to hide behind self deprecation as “humility” or keep my ideas bottled up just to save them as “surprises” when I actually just wanna talk about them!!!!!

I’m gonna start tagging these as #fic trivia so if you don’t care to see my babbling, or you prefer just my surprise fic emails outta nowhere, then feel free to hide that tag from your dash. But I am gonna try to start being more open about what I wanna talk about when I wanna talk about it, regardless of the feedback/interaction (or lack thereof) that I get

So without further ado, some hc’s from my tattoo artist!bakugou fic:

Among his friends, Bakugou has tatted:

Jirou (first practice canvas)

Kirishima (upper arms and chest, maybe legs)

Uraraka (upper arms)

Kaminari (random scattered pieces for whenever he’s feeling spontaneous and can handle the pain)

Sero (one sleeve, chest, legs)

Deku (he’s a good boy but he wanted one by his friend so he got one on his hip just to support kacchan/hide it from his mom)

Ashido (random pieces all over, not only by Bakugou bc she has more tattoo artist friends who practice on her, so she’s pretty filled up)

Inasa (whole sleeves and chest pieces)

Camie (one thing on her back maybe)

Tokoyami (random pieces on his upper arms)

Sato (whole sleeves)

Shoji (whole sleeves and random stuff all over)

Tetsutetsu (whole sleeves and chest pieces)

Among clients, Bakugou has tattooed:

Nejire (obviously) — a singer in this au

Shindou (chest and upper arms)

Nakagame (one thing in her arm)

Gang orca (whole sleeves)

Death arms (chest pieces, one thing on legs)

Kendou (one on her arm, one on her side)

Present Mic (one on his arm)

Vlad King (one upper arm/chest piece)

Burnin’ (tat on her back)

Before starting Dynamight Studios, he was an apprentice for Best Jeanist for several years. His mentor was a lot more artsy than he was, but Bakugou respects legends in their own right. Plus it gave him a chance to experiment with things to find out that he does, in fact, only like to do what he wants to do 😪

But Jeanist gave him a ton of experience and brought him along to plenty of conventions, domestic and international, so his time as an apprentice is irreplaceable. They still talk and Bakugou visits every once in a while. 

-

Reader has tattooed:

Yaomomo

Nejire

Mount lady

Intelli Saiko & friends (from provisional license exam arc)

Kodai & Komori (came in together)

Probably way more people in her base area

Reader apprenticed with Hawks, which honestly gave her a bit of a headache. He’s a super talented tattoo artist but his work style is kind of overwhelming. She learned a lot from him, that’s for sure, but the way he would just make her crank out dozens of sketches a day was not sustainable for her. It did force her to think out of the box a lot though, which is what eventually birthed her new personal style

She now works at a relatively popular tattoo shop she started with another tattoo artist friend, but she takes jobs from a lot of people and places. Sometimes, she even gets a client referred to by her old mentor, whom she visits every so often with food. 

-

About Red Riot Bar:

It’s a pretty spacious place, with mostly low rise coffee tables and stools so that you don’t feel like you’re being obstructed when you talk to others by tall furniture. If there are tall tables, they’re off to the side/the bar itself

There are arcade games set up one side of the bar, like pinball, darts, Pac-Man, etc. Opposite the pool table. and the walls are decorated with all of kirishima’s favorite art, bands, and inspirations (esp crimson riot, his favorite tv show character. He’s still waiting for the day that the actor shows up to his bar so he can put a framed photo on the walls)

It’s a chill place, where the music is good but not too loud and everyone can feel at ease. It’s on a street that’s pretty popular and busy with restaurants and other izakayas, so he’s got competition. But the ones who do come in and stick around are exactly the type of clientele he prefers for his bar

Was talking to @tonystonem about this but if you happened to stop by his bar a few times casually after work or smth, he would probably remember you since he’s pretty friendly with all his customers and likes to get to know people

And bouncing off of that, if you happen to catch his eye, then maybe he’d crank up the flirting a bit. Or get a little nosy when you bring a guy friend/acquaintance along with you one day

-

Obviously, jirou and yaomomo are in a band together, along with some other friends. (Although yaomomo still has a part time day job working for her family’s business) They play for a lot of different live music places and sometimes get booked for touring artists or events.

Their first big gig was given to them by popular radio host and producer present mic, at a music festival. They’re working with him occasionally on an EP, but they’re putting a lot of care into the project so it’s taking a bit longer than expected. But it’s gonna be so good and kirishima is definitely gonna stream it nonstop in his bar when it comes out

-

Kaminari knows everyone and everything in the city lmao. Everyone wonders if he actually has a job bc he’s always just out socializing and partying and having a good time. He does have a job tho! He’s like a recruiter for his company, so he has to go out and find new clients or workers all the time but that usually involves inviting them out for a casual hangout first to throw his pitches. It’s not always successful but he makes a lot of friends out of it. More than he can handle/remember sometimes lol

[gloryofluv]

How do you think the brothers would react to walking into MC’s room after looking for them to find them lying on bed, headphones in with a full face mask on? I’m talking cucumber slices on the eyes the whole deal. (Obviously Beel is gonna eat the cucumber but hey 😅)

Ah, thanks anon for a fun one! Self care is soooo important! Makes me want to go do a face mask now. Especially if my favorite boys are going to be there.

The Brothers Walking in on MC Enjoying a Face Mask and Self Care

Lucifer-

Busy demon boy. He knocks but is a bit concerned when he doesn’t hear an answer. Actually, a bit perturbed, if we’re honest! (Solely believes you should definitely answer him at whatever time he spends the time to do a welfare check)

Stops at the door when he sees MC lounging on their bed. Amused. Amusement turns to warm fuzzies. There they are, the affliction of his wounded heart, relaxing and listening to music, completely oblivious to watchful eyes.

The face mask even adds a pleasant smell to the room. Well, well, aren’t they a gorgeous, flawed mess? Won’t admit to wanting to encourage this in his personal space. Most certainly won’t confess to wanting to slurp up the peaceful energy of said self-care either.

Instead, he slips into the kitchen, being positive to not being seen. He prepares a relaxing herbal tea that always refreshes him on the off chance of a moment of peace. Once that is brewed to perfection, he will, with deadly silence, sneak into MC’s room and set the cup down.

They manage to peel the cucumbers off just before watching his silent escape. The warm tea is steaming next to them on the night table.

Cute. Stalkery, but cute.

"I enjoy thoroughly that you don't need to be instructed to take care of yourself."

Mammon-

Never knocks. Don’t expect it now. Even after he heard Asmo gave MC an excellent something or other to have some personal time. MC’s time is his time.

He barges into the room with his usual bravado, to note that MC hadn’t even commented. He glances over to see this goopy mess with cucumbers and a towel around their hair. Ugh. Asmo has them into that stupid self-care crap he’s been shoving!

Pouty boy. Wants attention and their attention to be real. He slumps on the bed and removes a cucumber from MC’s eyes. Starts talking regardless of if MC can hear. Then blames MC for not paying attention when they take off their headphones.

Starts a nonsense conversation. Doesn’t care about the topic, but he will continue it as long as MC gives him attention. Will be a blushing mess if MC asks if he wants them to do a mask for him.

Mammon snorts and deflects about that being Asmo’s thing. However, if MC offers to do the whole pampering effect that comes with the face mask… well, he might, ya know, be alright, maybe? Blushy blushy mess.

MC kisses his cheek, and he’s done for, even if he jumps up and spits out about it being gross and crackly from the mask. Has to leave. Cuteness overload. Poor baby boi doesn’t know how to handle soft feelings so well.

“Yeah, well, I gotta go. Maybe when you clean that crap off, you can come to my room. We’ll do something, ya know, together?”

Levi-

Knocks twice. Pissed MC didn’t answer. Glances in and blinks. Oh, they looked so peaceful. Is that the Rui-chan plushie he gave them? Oh, MC is tugging at his heart like an anime trope!

Slides inside and debates on bothering them. Just wants to admire MC a moment while he’s blushing and his brain is sputtering. MC had the plushie against their chest while relaxing on the bed.

Fiddles with his fingers and knows he should leave but likes this. A lot. Wants no one else to bother them. This moment is his. Cute. MC is a cute, adorable anime story waiting to be told. The only thing missing…

MC shifts and peels off a cucumber to reach for the boba tea he bought them earlier. Cue, nervous, mortified otaku!

However, MC doesn’t get upset and waves before taking off their headphones. They say they were just enjoying the TSL soundtrack. Even more blushing??! He can’t handle it and covers his face.

Sputtering about some streaming he needed to do, he tells them not to forget to meet him after dinner for their friendship dailies! Runs, not walks, out of the room.

Clutches his heart the whole way up the stairs and even hides his face from Mammon as he passes him on the stairs. It was just like that anime. I fell in love with a witch, and she didn’t even realize it because I can’t speak. The scene was remarkably similar.

“Ah, yeah, well, I just wanted t-to be sure you’re still coming t-tonight. You are right? I mean, I don’t want to bother you with it, y-yeah?”

Satan-

Knocks three times. Patiently waits. Until he’s not patient. Not happy to be ignored without even a response as to why MC isn’t answering.

Opens the door to see MC on their bed in a face mask. Aww, that’s cute. He likes cute things, and MC is equated to a cat sunbathing in a window. Walks over and touches MC’s shoulder.

MC jerks, but as the cucumber is removed, they smile and pat the bed. He is so pleased. Sitting down toward the center of the mattress, he assists MC to relax against his lap. Without removing their headphones, they comply.

He then opens his book and begins to read while removing the towel around MC’s hair. Ah, yes, this was peaceful and relaxing in so many ways. He was able to stroke MC’s hair and read with them while they indulged in self-care.

Perfection. He even offers to help them clean their face. Sweet little nerd. Knows why self-care is so important and relishes that MC doesn't mind his presence while doing so.

“I know you can’t hear me, but I thoroughly enjoy it when you take care of yourself. It makes me want to take care of you more.”

Asmo-

Barges in. Knows exactly what they're doing when he sees MC. Actually, knows it’s a great idea and skips up to his bathroom for his face mask! Has it prepped and ready to go with his own set of cucumbers.

Races into the room and tucks onto the bed next to MC. They remove the cucumbers and smile with a nod before taking off their headphones. He is so happy! Place the cucumbers on his own eyes.

Talk. Real talk, honey. Will go on about his Devilgram, what he saw at RAD, and even his brothers. All of it is light and airy. No bitching in a pamper session. This is all about that dopamine and good feels.

Insists that they continue with this pamper session with massages and manicures. Won’t mind at all if MC says they want to start doing this weekly. He is there, baby!

It becomes routine, and no one is going to disturb them! Encourages MC to try different masks and will be the guru of making them look as great as they make him feel! Expect cuddles and lots of kisses after the mask comes off!

“Oh! I’m so happy you want to do this! If we can do a whole session instead of just the mask, I will make you feel almost as great as I look!”

Beel-

Hungry boi. Wants to invite MC out for a snack, but no answer to his knocking? Are they alright? He saw them go into their room earlier.

He walks in to see MC on the bed, headphones on, and a mud mask? That’s what Asmo calls them, right? It smells waaaay too good to be mud. Walks over and eyes MC with confused interest.

Had no idea they liked putting food on their face. Food. Sits down on the bed and grabs one of the cucumbers. Tastes just like the sweetness of MC and food. Loves it.

MC smiles and hands him the other before taking off their headphones. Happy boi asks what they’re doing. They answer with a simple answer of self-care. The long day at RAD made them feel tired.

Asks if the mask is edible, to which MC replies and laughing negative. Oh, that makes no sense. It smells good. They offer to do a mask for him but doubt he’d be able to not eat it.

He laughs and nods before asking if they were almost done. He now has a craving for ice cream and maybe a half-dozen of burgers. MC sits up and kisses his cheek before nodding.

He is glowing with happiness and kisses their masked cheek. Unfortunately, he couldn’t help it and licks their face. Definitely doesn’t taste as great as it smells. MC laughs and pats his shoulder, saying they’ll be out in a few minutes so they can get a snack.

“You always taste good, but that mud doesn’t. You still look cute.”

Belphie-

Not a knocker. Doesn’t care to knock. MC is his human, and love knows no bounds. That includes doors.

Walks in to see MC on the bed with headphones and a mask. Cute. Adorable. Cuddly. Now his whole plan of going to the attic is out the window.

Slumps on the bed and buries his face in MC’s chest. Looks up to see they peel a cucumber off to see it’s him and smiles. Thump. Thump. His heart is growing by the second.

MC sighs and starts running their fingers through his hair after placing the cucumber back on their eye. Happy, sleepy boi. Cuddles closer and nuzzles with the equivalent of a sadistic sleepy cat.

MC has to beg him to let them go so they can remove it. He pouts and waits for them to return, only to entrap them in his arms and claim they smell too good to let go, and they feel so peaceful. Time for a nap.

“I love that you smell so wonderful and refreshing. Next time tell me when you’re going to do this so I can enjoy the whole thing.”

[helpistolethesecharacters]

Down By The Docks

Bucky Barnes x Male Reader

Word Count: 1810

This is inspired by another request, from an anon this time.

The idea is a '40's AU. I wasn't totally sure if that meant they wanted a story totally set in the 1940's or something that just didn't reference the war, or pretended the war wasn't on/our characters aren't involved in the war, so I just picked one.

Hope this is what you wanted anon!

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

Bucky Barnes was one of the best looking fellas Y/n had ever laid eyes on, of that he was sure. It was only his second day working down on the docks, but he was sure he could happily spend the rest of his life working this menial job if the view never changed.

He was always quick with a smile for a pretty dame or even, Y/n had noticed, a particularly handsome fella.

Y/n had thought for sure he had imagined seeing his 'impressing a pretty dame' smile aimed at the bloke who had delivered a sack of letters to the area they were working in.

He would have written it off as the heat getting to him if not for that very same smile being directed his way later that day while they were all sitting around eating their lunches.

None of the other's seemed to have picked up Bucky's brazen flirting with both genders, or maybe they just didn't care. That last one seemed pretty unlikely though.

Y/n just hiked up a brow at Bucky the second time he shot him that pretty smile. He had no idea what to do with that. It couldn't be helped that it was illegal to be that way, that was just the way of the world.

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

Y/n was sure that Bucky was trying to kill him.

He had shown up to work wearing his standard work wear. Just the worn whites and browns of clothes that had been washed too many times but that you couldn't afford to throw out yet.

It just wasn't fair that the day was particularly warm, so everyone had ended up stripped down to their pants. All those half naked male bodies glimmering with sweat, the noises they made unconsciously as they lifted boxes full of cargo and moved them to where they needed to go.

And right there, in the middle of it all, Bucky Barnes. Poor Y/n had ended up being sent home from being 'affected by the sun'. It wasn't his fault dammit, Bucky had been parading around looking good enough to eat. Y/n was ashamed to find himself literally walking into poles and walls in his preoccupation with the half naked Bucky.

----------

Y/n sighed in relief. Tonight was going to be blessedly free of one Bucky Barnes, perpetual thorn in his gay side.

He was going out to a bar. It was an open secret that this particular bar was a gay bar. The cops in that area were happy to turn a blind eye to it largely because several of them were known regulars there.

That didn't mean you could just go about talking about it, or anything that went on inside it while you weren't there.

It was still illegal after all.

Y/n leaned back into his booth and sighed happily. A nice drink, some eye candy that wouldn't beat the crap out of him just for giving them the eye, and a little dancing ought to make his worries just float away.

Y/n had been looking forward to this all week.

Damn Barnes to hell and back.

Y/n moved over to the bar to order himself something silly. He was feeling the need for some ridiculousness tonight.

He had just taken his first sip of his drink when he spotted him. There he was, standing by the bar just a little ways down from Y/n, seemingly ordering a drink.

Y/n tried valiantly to not spit his mouthful of booze all over the bar. He had paid good money for that drink and he would be damned if he wasted it.

It didn't work very well. Some of it ended up coming out of his nose, and as he hacked up the parts of it that went down the wrong pipe to choke him, the rest dribbled down his chin.

'Well, that was attractive,' Y/n thought drily.

"Oh gosh, are you alright? Here, let me help."

Y/n turned watering eyes on the man addressing him.

He was met with a short blond who looked like a stiff wind could knock him over if he wasn't careful.

He was holding out a handkerchief and looking unsure of himself.

Y/n went to reassure the stranger that he was fine, but some small remaining part of the drink that hadn't been attempting to kill him before chose that moment to do so. Instead of words, he could only hack and cough, trying to get the liquid out of his lungs.

Y/n felt a hand on his back moving in firm circles, trying to help. He looked back over at the man to find him at his side frowning as he rubbed at Y/n's back.

When Y/n could finally speak properly he took the handkerchief, which had once again been offered, to clean his face of tears and spit and snot.

'Who'd have thought that alcohol burned so badly going into a person's nose and lungs?' Y/n thought disgustedly.

When he had cleaned himself up properly and turned back to his savior he suddenly realised he had no idea how to make this situation any less awkward.

The other man apparently had no such reservations.

"I'm Steve by the way. That looked pretty painful. Are you okay now?"

He was so earnest, and it didn't look like he was laughing at Y/n at all, so he could only nod vaguely.

"Yeah, I was just surprised by something. I'm Y/n, just so you know."

Y/n paused, feeling every bit as awkward as he ever had.

"Um, after that bit of excitement, I think I'm gonna call it a night. Murderous drinks aside it was nice meeting you. Can I clean this and bring it back here some time for you Steve?"

Y/n held up the thoroughly soaked handkerchief, cringing internally.

"Oh, don't worry about it, but are you sure you don't want to stay for a little bit longer? I'm here with my friend, but he's never very good company when there's dancing and alcohol involved."

Y/n mulled it over for a second, before manners kicked in.

"Yeah, no worries. I could stay for a bit longer, if only to save you from a lonely evening."

Steve's smile was sweet, but Y/n also couldn't detect anything else behind it. It didn't seem like he was trying to hit on Y/n, just that he didn't want to spend the night alone while his 'friend' danced the night away.

Y/n followed behind Steve as he led him over to the booth that Y/n had originally been sitting in.

Y/n stopped still at the sight of who was sitting across from Steve. Bucky dang-it-all-to-heck Barnes.

At their approach, Bucky turned away from the two women sitting with him in the booth. His handsome face lit up when he registered who it was standing in front of him.

"Stevie, there you are. I was starting to think you ditched me earlier than ever, but look what you found. I should bring you here more often."

Steve just gave Bucky a blank look.

Y/n couldn't blame him. If his 'good friend' had taken him out for a night of fun, he wouldn't have appreciated him looking at other guys that way either. He wasn't exactly backward in letting people know he was interested from the sounds of it.

Y/n stood awkwardly by the booth, not really sure if he should still be there. He had followed Steve to keep him company, but if it were him in Steve's shoes right now, he'd want him to leave.

"Um, I think I should probably head off actually."

Steve turned back to Y/n looking confused.

"Oh, well if you're sure. You don't have to stay if you don't want to of course."

Y/n refused to acknowledge the fact that Bucky was honest to goodness pouting. Was there anything in this world that was fair?

"Well, at least let me walk you out."

There would be no arguing apparently, as Bucky was already out of his seat and herding Y/n to the door.

"It was nice meeting you!" Y/n barely managed to turn to yell to Steve as he was pulled away by the ever insistent Bucky.

Once they made it outside Bucky paused and turned to face Y/n.

"Hey."

Y/n turned to face him.

"Gotta say, I'm gettin' a bit confused here."

Y/n frowned but stayed silent.

"When we met at work I thought you were pretty cute, but you don't hit on people down by the docks if you wanna live to see the next sunrise, you know? But then you were always starin' an I thought, maybe you mighta been interested. Then that day you kept walkin' into things happened and I was pretty dang sure you were."

Y/n was blushing by now.

'Great so he did notice.'

"But then I see you here."

Bucky had moved closer and lowered his voice, speaking softer.

"An, no offense to Stevie, but he's not exactly every guys dream-boat. You know, I don't even think he knows this is a gay bar."

He broke off here to chuckle quietly. He was standing so close, he was practically pressing Y/n up against the wall of the bar.

"But then you're actin' all stand-offish. Like you can't even bare to look at me. So, what's a guy to think?"

Bucky seems to realise how this might be coming across and pulls away to give Y/n some room.

"Do I got a shot with you Y/n?"

Y/n had been floating somewhere dreamy with Bucky pressed up so close to him, but when he pulled away, reality came crashing down. How dare he ask questions like that when Steve was in there waiting for him to get back?

"You got some nerve Barnes. You can't just ask anyone out. Not when you got a fantastic guy like that waiting for you in there!"

"Fantastic guy? What-"

Y/n cut him off before he could sweet talk his way out of this.

"Steve! He's sweet, and kind and probably way too good for someone who flirts with everyone on the block!"

Bucky was laughing, which Y/n thought was way out of line.

"Wha, Y/n, Steve's just a friend. He don't even swing that way."

Y/n's face lit up with the brightest blush he had ever felt. He was sure he was going to actually self-combust before long.

"Oh."

"Yeah. So is that why you looked at me like that?"

He moved closer again, and when he spoke that damned silver tongue was back.

"I would never. When I'm with someone, they're the most important person in the world to me. Besides, how could I ever look my ma in the face again if I treated my partner like that?"

Y/n blushed fiercely.

"So whaddya say? Give me a shot?"

Y/n could only nod, face still a brilliant red.

[shozaii]

title: too feisty.

genre: angst.

characters: dazai, chuuya, kunikida, akutagawa.

warnings: rough behavior, the boys arguing with you :(

request: hi, i could ask for scenarios and headcanons for dazai, chuuya, kunikida, akutagawa, when i have an argument with my s/o and they don't speak to each other for several days. how it is reconciled and after how many days. thank you very much☺️☺️☺️😉😉😌😌

(a/n): hewwooo anon! thank youuu so much for requesting!! i did my best writing this, so i hope you enjoy reading it! 

masterlist.

☆ d a z a i.

- arguing with dazai is like yelling into the void. he doesn’t really understand why you’re both going through this pain, the torture of the wrong emotions at a very wrong time - when in reality it was all supposed to be sunshine and rainbows. did you not see the sunshine in his eyes anymore? was he going to be left alone again? so many thoughts left his head, yet all he could do was listen to what you have to say.

- simple to say, he is quiet the entire time because he just doesn’t want you both to end up torn; worse, broken. he wouldn’t want to see you break, either. unable to express any of his feelings, he tends to stare at you with a thin line formed on his lips.

- it depends on what you’re arguing, really. if he knows it’s his fault, he obliges to it. if he’s just confused, his darkened gaze burns into you. he looks like he’s about to flip. instead, he huffs softly, walks up to you, and looks right at you for a bit.

- once he’s done looking at you, he leaves. he walks and walks to literally anywhere which would give him comfort. he looks up into the sky, and wonders just what he could do to become a better person. after all, it was all for you.

- shall no one come in between and take away one from the other.

- the silent treatment has gone as far as a week. dazai respects the time you need to be alone, even though he is tempted to initiate a conversation earlier than expected. the other arguments have lasted for at least 2-3 days. i wouldn’t see him asking for help from anyone - he wants to show you and himself that he has the capability of reaching himself out to you, owning up to his mistakes and reconcile. if it was you who returns first, his heart would literally shatter. 

- i feel like he would call you to come over to the favorite spot of yours, or maybe walk up to you one fine night, wrapping his arms around you, planting slow kisses on your neck. his way of apologizing is sometimes through affection, or touch. it’s like a reassurance that he’s going to be there for you, and he understands that arguments do happen once in a while. 

☆ c h u u y a.

- he might get really irritated. no cap. i have a feeling he might blow up on you just a little? but the irritation mostly comes from the moment the two of you start arguing. he clenches his fists a whole lot, might chew the inside of his lip, try not to look at you in the eyes because he might start tearing up too.

- oh he might go as far as to slamming his hands on the table, which would leave you taken aback by his actions. once he realizes what he did, he just crumbles because holy crap did he not want to see you panic. 

- chuuya doesn’t like silent treatment at all. i feel like he would have a fear of abandonment. the pre - port mafia days didn’t treat him right. at this point his heart is thumping hard because when you both begin the treatment, he knows he’s not going to go through this well. so how does he cope? wine. but he doesn’t go to a bar. it’s always from the stock he saves at home. he possibly never leaves the house, either - except for serious missions.

- he shakes when his comrades tell him to text you, so practically he would rather do it face to face. it seems way more better that way for him. this period lasts for about 2 days max. he can never go beyond that.

- cue him engulfing you into a warm cuddle sesh; it’s going to take a while for him to let go of you. he talks about how wrong he was, how he’s going to make it up for you - i feel like he would’ve gotten you something just in case. he’s just willing to spend tons for you i swear

☆ k u n i k i d a.

- i feel like one of his written ideals about you/arguments is him reminding himself that conversation is key. it doesn’t have to be any specific topics; it must be implemented in everything. i have a huge headcanon that kunikida tends to get nervous if he has to let out an opinion he never has put out about, until the very last minute where he has to decide his own fate - right or wrong?

- but nope, he’s not reserved. he would let you know exactly how does he feel during the argument, though he would never, ever try and raise his voice at you. let’s just say you accidentally raise your own, he wouldn’t be bothered by it either, and would maintain his composure.

- yes, he does get angry very easily. but when it comes to you his guard gets let down, and he is more of himself when it comes to conversations with you. fights are very rarely heated. 

- i think they do get pretty intense when he’s just so stressed out with work in general, worried if he could protect you during these trying times, paperwork maybe? or how you might take his job easily while he doesn’t. it doesn’t hit him at first but when he does realize that he screamed at you, his heart drops to his feet. the longest you have not talked to each other is for about a day.

- sometimes i forget that kunikida is younger than dazai. but anyway - if dazai notices kunikida’s sour face, and somehow dazai gets him to spit it all out. this would somehow give clarification to kunikida that his partner isn’t all that bad when it comes to advice. he would give pretty good ones and fulfil his role as a senior.

- when he apologizes he looks down at the floor, but slowly proceed to look up into your eyes if he realizes this is his opportunity to take. 10/10 would give you the smallest apologetic smile, and might even kneel while taking your hand. he’s just sooo in love with you aksjkdjkj

☆ a k u t a g a w a.

- hot-tempered. send tweet. 

- a little bit like chuuya to be honest. would bang his fists against a hard surface, stomp the floor, or crush any type of object he has in his hands. but never, ever expect him to use rashomon on you. having you in his life was more than a gift itself, so using his ability on you wouldn’t even be on the last things he would do.

- maybe when he does show his anger by banging and smashing things around, you would see a red glow which would cause you to back away or be afraid of him. this is his turning point. has he officially scared you already? was he bad? what did he look like in your eyes? what’s your next step?

- not talking to each other would probably last as long as a week? two weeks. it’s what i see. he gets scared of himself too, and might as well get a panic attack from what he has done to hurt his loved one. he’s always wanted you to be his first and last. would go to more missions to distract himself (and win most fights, but fail at forgetting about the argument you had). 

- in this case, it would take some time for him to loosen up and talk to someone about it. he might have done this once. only once, never repeated again because he’s just so embarrassed to do so. 

- aku would start the conversation. he’s lightly tap on your shoulder and might utter the words, “let’s talk” but tiny. as for affection, he would kiss your hand and look away, flushed. there would be this lil pout too, but at least you guys are one again.

(a/n): after a long time, here i am with a new fic for bsd!! i feel accomplished now UwU!! lemme know what you think!!🥰❤

[sunjaesol]

love, between the shadow and the soul

chenford | drabble | post-canon | title: sonnet xvii - pablo neruda

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Look, Tim Bradford did not get attracted to rookies, okay? In all the years he had been a TO, none had grabbed his attention. Not when he and Isabelle were dating, or married, or when she disappeared into the night with a trail of illicit affairs and a shot of heartache for him. Dozens of young women had sat in that car beside him and never ever had he let their femininity distract him. He served his country. He fought wars overseas. He looked Death right in the eye every single day and never blinked.

But then came officer Lucy Chen. He instantly knew the type of cop she’d be the second she turned in her seat, meeting his gaze for the first time, and nervously smiled at him. Nerves were normal, he was aware, but the doe-eyed look and the hopeful grin sold her out. No mystery. Just another young cop that would either slip through the cracks by the exam by tanking their grade due to stress, or she’d become a desk duty cop — one that stayed far from danger, that handled life with a perpetual softer touch ‘cause of her shrink parents.

Nothing wrong with that, Bishop would chastise him. Every cop had its use, she’d add. Sure, that might be true, but Tim didn’t want to babysit an armed toddler waiting for it to cry and call for mom. With just a couple well-placed Tim-tests, she’d be out of his hair in no time and then he could cross his fingers for a better recruit in the following weeks.

Life had the ability to change in a snap though — their funny, yet stern reminder that the universe called the shots, not the gun in his holster, or the rulebook. He got shot. Officer Chen backed him up. Her stubborn, yet brazen, yet honest attitude reeled him in just enough to ignore her little quirks she always joyfully displayed in the shop. Whenever he didn’t nip her ramblings in the bud fast enough, she babbled on and on about her personal life, her personal issues and relationships, like they were best friends (They weren’t! Boots and him never befriended!), like their relationship was anything more than a transactional training period. They got each other’s six. That was it.

But fuck, man. She got under his skin, too.

Lucy wore this… really nice perfume. A lot of female officers had make-up and perfume on, allowed a small sliver of self-expression, and he and Lopez had spend countless hours in a shop together. He was used to it. But somehow, Lucy’s stuck in his nose and didn’t leave. He felt like a creep, thinking about the blend of cardamom and oranges and cherry blossoms mixing with her warm skin, uncontrollable while also wanted. He wanted to fantasise about that fucking perfume of hers, a realisation that took a long time to come to terms with.

That didn’t mean he liked her though — he quickly corrected himself the first time he caught the pattern of behaviour — all it meant was that Lucy had good taste in perfume. Case closed.

So why did he linger whenever her shimmery eyes flicked up at him, why did his breath catch in his throat when her voice dropped to that infuriating sincerity as she uttered words of appraisal? Why his heart go haywire when she recorded all those audio books for him; an out of line gesture and overzealous task for a boot, which would normally result in him laughing their face.

Tim never thought he’d get over Isabelle, nor did he ever believe he’d have his happily ever after with Rachel, but with Lucy he foolishly hoped for more. A more that came from such a stupid and deluded place, probably fostered through months of loneliness and the Pavlovian response to her perfume, but one he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop it. The man was always in control about everything, ran his own tests and went over every possible outcome every day, every hour — and yet he didn’t see her coming. Lucy Chen had been right under his nose and he hadn’t been prepared for the ground to disappear beneath his feet; something that should honestly get him fired. The callousness of his emotions while entertaining the idea of a relationship with his own boot sentenced him straight to P2 or desk duty, or whatever.

Lucy deserved someone better, anyway.

Someone that understood her love for sage and cleansing homes. Someone that liked veggie burgers, chai lattes, karaoke nights and social media lurking. Someone that wouldn’t hesitate for one second to open her door for a teenage girl in need of safety and a little bit of that Chen-love. Someone that wasn’t any of those firemen assholes, but wasn’t Tim either.

He never let his insecurities get the best of him, but after seeing her thrive as a P2 without him, handling undercover stints like a pro, conquering her trauma of being buried alive, it only showcased that she had more bravery in her index finger than some army members had in their entire body, all while staying innately kind. Of course Tim lost his mind over her. Of course he tried shaping officer Barnes to be more like Lucy — more sun and bite and charisma, less army BS. Of course, of course, of course. Even Rosalind, the person he hated most besides Caleb, had him figured out in seconds. He was obvious as hell.

Which was why he had to move stations. Away from the Mid-Wilshire Division and to another. He couldn’t be around her anymore and risk compromising missions or attacks. He didn’t tell Angela the details, though her knowing look said enough, and simply replied that she’d miss him and that she was sure the chief would happily reinstate him any time.

He should’ve known that information leaked through like a wildfire.

The morning of his resignment, uniform neatly folded in his locker, Lucy stopped him in the hallway with the most befuddled expression he’d ever seen.

“What?” he said.

“What the hell,” she exclaimed. “You’re leaving and I have to hear it from Angela? Why’re you…? You love this division. Is everything okay?”

Shouldering past her, he drawled over his shoulder: “Everything’s fine, officer Chen. I’d advise you to put on your uniform and get to roll call.”

“Don’t pull this crap with me,” she bit back, latching onto his arm before he was out of reach. His feet reflexively stopped in place, stupidly waiting on her to finish her train of thought. “Tim, you can tell me if something’s wrong. We’ve been through… way too much for you to act this cold with me.”

He scoffed, feigning mockery, and put his hands on his hips. “We? Chen, I was your TO. That’s it. Get it out of your head it was more.”

Lucy blinked, once, twice, a hurt expression crossing her features, followed by disbelief and a quiet contempt he had become awfully familiar with. Swallowing back the regret, he watched as she pursed her lips and took a step back. “Wow. Okay.”

“Don’t take it personally.”

“Hard not to, officer Bradford,” she muttered. Turning to the locker rooms, she added, “Talk to me when you’re ready to not be an asshole.”

That should’ve been his cue to let her go and resume his trek to sergeant Grey, but a whiff of her fragrance wafted in his face from her dancing curls and any sensical thought was knocked out his head. He wanted to embrace her and burrow his face in her hair, he wanted to hold her with intent, he wanted to kiss the scent off her skin. His feet followed her instead, both fully aware and totally impulsive at once. He chose the excuse of loving a good argument with her to then utter: “I’m not an asshole, Chen. I’m honest.”

“If you’re honest, you’d admit that we’ve been very close friends these past months,” she exhaled, refusing to look him in the eye. He supposed he deserved that. Stopping in front of her locker, she continued with, “Distorting your own reality to fit your macho narrative isn’t healthy. Also, this is the women’s locker room. Out. Now.”

Tim sputtered out a laugh and crossed his arms. “Macho narrative? Please.”

Lucy’s eyes narrowed, all air sucked out the room at the intensity of her stare, and Tim felt himself flailing, suddenly wondering why the hell he wanted to turn in his badge when the only place he could have moments with lucy was, well, here. Why was he giving up on this, how silly it might be?

With a resolute voice, she said, “Tim, why are you resigning?”

Nothing in his entire career prepared him for this. Tim Bradford had survived Iraq and Afghanistan, twelve years of the LAPD and counting, a deadly virus, hundreds of bullets taken by the vest and felt the power of death on the blue lips of Lucy in the quiet countryside. Fear got pushed aside. Pride pulled him forward, onwards. But right now, he had to take a leap of faith — the sole thing he never relied on, but Lucy did — and trust she’d be there after the fall.

(He wanted to be that amazing someone for her.)

“Because of you,” he whispered. His fight or flight told him to run for the first time in forever, but he kept his feet glued to the floor.

Her jaw fell slack in shock. “E-excuse me? Me?! I’ve done nothing wrong!”

“Exactly,” he spit. “You… you’re…” Tim sighed. “You’re the best, Lucy.”

Faltering, her brows furrowed in utter confusion, a grain of her fury replaced with compassion. He wasn’t sure if that was warranted. All he was trying to do was get it off his chest, confess, before it escalated to insurmountable heights. “I don’t think I understand.”

“Uh…”

“You’re resigning, because I’m the best?” she tried to deduce. “No offense, any other day I’d be dancing right now, but this is just…” She gestured at him. “So weird.”

Tim let out a miserable sigh and ripped the band-aid off. Fuck it. “I’m trying to be honest about my feelings, Lucy.”

She froze. “What?”

“I like you. A lot.” Her wonderstruck expression didn’t make him feel better, so he quickly added: “Which is why I gotta decrease the risk of this exploding in our faces and go.”

“Whoa!” Lucy’s hand wrapped around his, eyes wide and searching, like any empirical data would be found within his green irises, otherwise known as fondness and unresolved tension with every quiet moment they had. “Is this… another test? Are you getting back at me for pranking you?”

He quirked a brow. “You’re a P2 now. Tests are over.”

“Right,” she quipped, catching herself. She let go of him and nervously tucked a lock behind her ear. “Yeah. Okay. And you’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. O-kay. Let me, uh…” the locker swung open “… wrap my head around this.”

“It’s a pretty easy thing to—”

“Tim.”

“Yeah, okay.” He backed off, hating how the control was out of his hands now, how he practically shoved his heart in her grip and her pretty fingers could crush it to dust if she wanted to. “I’ll let you do that.”

Walking out the locker room, he took a deep breath and straightened up his face. Alright. He royally screwed that over. If his army buddies knew, they’d all laugh in his face and tease him for the rest of his life. But at least he told her and got his answer, that a relationship was off the table but that they could save their friendship once he switched divisions and some distance mended his twisted, inside-out heart. Lucy had rocked his world and all she had to do was exist.

“Tim!”

“Wha— wow!”

Her body crashed into him the second he turned around to her beautiful voice, Lucy’s arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him down to her level ‘til all he experienced were her sweet eyes and breathless smile and a kiss. Lucy kissing him, slow and tentative, but it lit his heart aflame and urged him to hold onto her. Her perfume was all-encompassing, nose full of the fragrance and the soft slope of her neck and long, brown hair and fuck, he was kissing Lucy Chen. Except he didn’t care if the entire precinct idly watched by, or if she yanked him out the building on impulse, or anything — ‘cause he was kissing her and it was perfect. Her plump lips were better than he ever imagined.

Her hands slid from his hair to his shoulders, arms and then his hands, squeezing. His forehead pressed against hers, embarrassingly weak in the knees from that incredible kiss that he didn’t dare to stand up straight. Two silly grins broke loose on their faces. He had no clue what to do now, or not do, but he did know he wanted her. He wanted everything.

Lucy decided for him.

“Don’t go,” she whispered.

Tim smiled. “Okay.”

[trashytummiez]

Leon + Bad Curry = Bad Times

I made this fic based off of this emeto pic of Leon that an amazing artist @squidbiscuit made.

https://squidbiscuit.tumblr.com/post/638970356221247488/more-pukey-leonjust-because-it-looks-good-on-him

Pukey content is not really my thing, but I love nausea, burps and comfort and I got the idea based off that picture of Raihan who I ship hard with Leon, having to comfort his nauseous boyfriend.

It was hard to tell if Leon was groaning or if that was his stomach, but either way, to Raihan, it sounded sour and unpleasant.  The two of them were in bed together, they’d long since eaten their dinner but something clearly wasn’t sitting right for Leon.  His stomach was especially noisy all night, but Leon kept trying to insist to his boyfriend that the curry was just hotter than usual, but Raihan knew that wasn’t true.  He ate the same curry and his own stomach wasn’t bothering him.

Leon’s bare back was turned to Raihan, maybe so he could try and stifle the worst of his gurgling stomach.  But for as intense as their rivalry was when they were trainers, as lovers, Raihan was a very tender and loving boyfriend.  He wrapped his arms around Leon’s hips and gently tugged him close.  His hands rested against Leon’s stomach, which did feel a little bit puffier than Leon’s normal, firmer six-pack felt.  And with his hands wrapped around Leon’s belly, Raihan could feel it churn intensely under his fingertips.

“That sounds awful,” Raihan frowned.

“Hulp, feels awful,” Leon mumbled which was completely out of character from his normally charismatic and confident way of talking.  He groaned some more when his gut gurgled so hard that it made him actually recoil in bed with a groan of pain.  

“Hope you don’t have a bug,” Raihan said with concern.  He tenderly rubbed Leon’s belly to try and calm it down.  He was careful as possible, rubbing slowly and gently, as if barely drifting his fingers across Leon’s oddly warm middle. 

Leon shivered, both from pleasure but also from a wave of nausea hitting him.  He swallowed hard but tried to relax.  It was not an easy thing to do.  In fact, his belly was giving him such grief that tears were starting to form from the corners of his eyes.  

Raihan grimaced when he heard and felt that stomach gurgle such a painfully acidic-sounding bubbling.  Leon’s gut was churning a storm and it wasn’t doing him any favors.  But he needed to be there for his boyfriend, so he kept trying to calm Leon’s belly down, rubbing it with more focus.  His palm ran side to side, swaying Leon’s stomach slowly in a hope of dispelling the cramps.

Leon’s cheeks puffed for a moment and he blew to the side.  He did it again and groaned.  It was like a cross between burping and exhaling, but his stomach was just too hitched and tightened for anything to come up the right way.  Leon gently rubbed his aching belly alongside Raihan and groaned to himself.  His stomach felt unpleasantly heavy, even though he usually ate way more than he did that night and tended to feel just fine.  The sickness was literally weighing his gut down, making it feel like it was heavier than it actually was.  

He wanted to burp so badly and try and get some of the pressure out of his stomach, but it was such a mess in there that every attempt made his gullet lurch, like something else was going to come up with the residual gas.  

“Oolph, mrph, feels awful...”

“Shhhh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Raihan insisted gently.  While one hand continued to gently caress Leon’s belly, the other drifted higher and started rubbing Leon’s broad, athletes chest.  He exhaled shakily, like the rubbing against his bare chest was helping to ease his throat a little.  

They laid in bed together with Raihan wrapped around Leon’s backside.  He rested his chin against Leon’s shoulder and hissed his neck affectionately.  Raihan was trying to comfort Leon as best as he could, rubbing that grumbling stomach up and down to his underbelly, just before his boxers waistband.  

Leon hiccuped deeply while his stomach bubbled even more aggressively.  He covered his mouth and hiccuped again.  This time, his belly hitched, like it was tied into a knot.  

“...O-Oh crap...f-feels like...”

He hiccuped sharply again.  Suddenly, Leon sat up from the bed, holding his mouth with one hand and grabbing his aching belly with the other.  Getting up so fast was a mistake, because it caused what felt like a wave in his stomach splashing against the front of his belly.  And that kind of nausea was just too much to stomach a second longer.  

With a look of panic in his eyes, Leon rushed out from the bedroom in only his boxers and rushed to the bathroom.  He hugged the toilet and spat into it, whining some more.  Raihan frowned anxiously and got up from the bed, shirtless but wearing sweatpants.  He headed over to the bathroom and found a whimpering Leon hugging the toilet bowl and hiccuping repeatedly  They were these wet, lurching hiccups.

“Hic!  Hic!  Ooooh God...hic!  Hic!”  Leon whined, hiccuping again and again.  Until a sharp hiccup turned into a rolling belch.  “HiccuuuuUUURRRP!!!”

And with that wet, rumbling burp, Leon spewed the contents of his stomach into the toilet.  Raihan recoiled with disgust, hearing Leon vomit intensely into the toilet.  In truth, Raihan was really sensitive to that sort of thing, always getting sick himself at the mere thought of someone throwing up.  

But seeing Leon so vulnerable, he instead held his long purple hair up, keeping it from sinking into the toilet and rubbed his back gently.  “...Th-That’s it, l-let it out,” Raihan tried to assure Leon without sounding too grossed out.  He wasn’t doing a good job.

When the contents of his stomach stopped spewing out of him, Leon huffed in a breathless fashion.  Since he’d already thrown up, he didn’t bother being delicate.  Instead, Leon grabbed his belly and pressed into it firmly, then let out a really deep, rumbling burp.  Leon huffed, then gulped down some air, so he could force it back up in the form of an even larger and louder belch, which he let out right into the toilet, making it reverberate forcefully.  

As soon as that gross but impressive burp ended, Leon lurched and let out a third burp, this one a really wet, disgusting-sounding belch.  And with it, a stream of vomit spewed out of his mouth as he lurched his head into the toilet and puked profusely.  Raihan clenched his eyes shut, trying hard not to think about it while he kept rubbing Leon’s back.  He was doing his best not to breathe right now, but thought it might be a tad insensitive to start spraying the place.

By the time the bile stopped expelling from Leon’s mouth, he felt utterly dazed.  He almost slumped against the toilet itself, spitting into it a few more times before moaning with exhaustion.  

“...OoooOOoooh man, that was awful,” Leon mumbled, flushing the toilet and spitting into it again with a pained whine.  “...I’m s-sorry...”

But Raihan just rubbed his back some more and gave it a few gentle packs.  “Don’t be sorry.  I hate seeing you so miserable,” Raihan said gently, while still keeping his hair up.  “Do you at least feel better?”

Leon nodded weakly.

“...Did you get it all out?”

With a weak huff, Leon massaged his churning stomach firmly.  “...Don’t know...stomach feels less-hurp-gurgly, but...Huuuuurrrp!!”  Leon burped into the toilet and thankfully, this time, just air came up, but it was the kind of burp that sounded like more than air was coming, especially when Leon started whining even more, almost sounding like he wanted to cry.

Raihan sighed but despite that, rested his hand on Leon’s shoulder.  “Well, until you get it all out and feel better, I’m right here.  And I’m not going anywhere.”

Leon weakly blinked a few tears away and finally said, “...L-Love you...”

In spite of the unpleasantness, Raihan smiled softly and brushed Leon’s long purple hair away from his face and caressed his cheek.  “Love you too...”  His face soured a little though.  “...In health and, ugh, and in sickness...”

[diffractor]

Yet Another Damn Monad Tutorial

Monads are infamous for being badly explained. The category theorist may say “A monad is just a monoid in the category of endofunctors”. The programmer may point to some code as a clear example, but lo, you do not know much of how to read Haskell code. Fortunately, I don’t like category theory and have little programming experience! So I’m perfectly qualified to explain monads. I will assume some basic mathematical competence, though. I didn’t get monads until I spent a while playing around with concrete examples, so this will be long and concrete-example-heavy. Basically, what underlying structure do probability distributions, powersets, having a “process failed” error message, and infinite lists have in common? That’s a monad. What they have in common is there’s four basic operations you can do that are analogous in all of the cases. Yes, yes, you can define some of these operations in terms of the others, but going straight for the minimalist foundations doesn’t help with learning something for the first time. Operation 1: Embedding! Let’s say you’ve got some set X, and a point x that’s in it.You can embed your point as a probability distribution. Just map x to the probability distribution that puts all its mass on x. You can embed your point as a set. Just map x to the set containing only x. You can embed your point into the space X + error (a single extra point representing that something went horribly wrong somewhere). Just map x to... itself. You can embed your point as an infinite list. Just consider the list [x,x,x,x...] Operation 2: Lifting! Let’s say you’ve got some function f, of type X->Y. You can lift f to a function Delta X -> Delta Y (takes a probability distribution over X, spits out a probability distribution over Y). Just... sample from the distribution on X, apply f to whatever point you drew to get a y, and this random process gives you a probability distribution over Y. You can lift f to a function P(X)->P(Y) (takes a subset of X, spits out a subset of Y). Just... take your subset of X, apply f to all the points in it, bam, you get a subset of Y. You can lift f to a function X+error->Y+error. Just apply f usually, and map the extra error point to the extra error point. You can lift f to a function from lists of stuff in X to lists of stuff in Y. Just apply the function to each entry in the list. Operation 3: Flattening! There’s a way to go from a probability distribution on probability distributions on X to just a probability distribution on X. Just... randomly draw a probability distribution, randomly draw a point x from whatever distribution you just picked, and... that’s a random process picking points from X. There’s a way to go from a subset of the subsets of X to just a subset of X. Union together the subsets in your family, bam, you’re done. There’s a way to go from (X+error)+error to X+error. Just map the internal and external error points to the same “an error happened” point. For lists... well, if you’ve got a list of lists, you can make a new list by going [entry 1 of list 1, entry 2 of list 2, entry 3 of list 3, entry 4 of list 4...] Operation 4: Applying! The type signature here is (Delta X) x (X->Delta Y) -> (Delta Y). Ie, if you’ve got a probability distribution on X, and a stochastic function from X to Y, can you get a probability distribution on Y? Yes. Draw a point from x, apply the stochastic function to it to randomly get a y, bam, this is a random process generating points from Y. For powerset, it’d be P(X) x (X->P(Y)) -> P(Y). Ok, we’ve got a subset of X, and a function mapping points in X to subsets of Y. Can we get a subset of Y? Yup, just apply the function to all the x’s in your set, to get a family of subsets of Y, and take the union. For error, it’d be (X+error) x (X -> Y+error) -> Y+error. If you started off with error, the output is error. If you started off with some x, try applying the function-which-might-fail, you’ll either get an error or some point in Y. For lists, it’d be L(X) x (X->L(Y)) -> L(Y). It’s a similar thing as flattening here. Using k for our function from X to lists of stuff from Y, and d for our list of stuff from X, you’d make [entry 1 of k(entry 1 of d), entry 2 of k(entry 2 of d), entry 3 of k(entry 3 of d)...] It should be kinda weird that all four of these operations, embedding, lifting, flattening, and applying, are analogous between the four cases I brought up. Well, that’s what a monad is. It’s something you can do to types/spaces/sets to make another one. Like going from X to probability distributions over X (probability monad), or subsets of X (powerset monad), or X+error (error monad), or infinite lists of stuff from X (list monad). And it can’t just be any old process, it needs to come equipped with these special functions. There’s gotta be some way to Embed your original space into the monad-y space. There’s gotta be some way to Lift functions between original spaces to be between monad-y spaces. There’s gotta be some way to Flatten two applications of the monad into just one. And there’s gotta be some nice way to Apply monad-y functions (probabilistic functions, set-valued functions, functions that might fail, list-generating functions) to a monad-y input to make a monad-y output. Now, this is a redundant presentation of the defining functions. You can define some of these functions from some other ones, and there’s also some stuff you’ve gotta check to make sure you got the functions right so they cohere nicely with each other and you didn’t just make up random crap. But the official functions that define a monad are usually pretty obvious. I’m not really sure why they’re so useful in functional programming, but they are. And that’s a monad! That general sort of pattern.

[theonewiththefanfics]

Shy (one-shot)

Synopsys: She’s shy. He likes her. She likes him. But every time something gets between the ex-Winter Soldier and the cute lab rat that works with Stark. The team has had enough of the pining.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Genre: fluffffffff

Warnings: swearing, as per usual, nothing else really. Just some cute lil fluff I wrote (also this is defo not my best work :D)

Word count: 3042

It was a seemingly ordinary day when the ex-Winter Soldier’s life changed forever.

        Bucky’d plopped down onto the sofa with a disgruntled sigh, making Steve smirk and divert his attention from the show on the TV to his friend.

        “You know, she likes you,” Steve said to Bucky as he sipped on his coffee giving him a side glance.

        Bucky just grumbled and crossed his arms, mind still reeling on the absolute failure that he had experienced earlier that day. It'd been a trainwreck of a mission. No lives lost, but he'd made an absolute fool of himself by making a few bad calls. “Who?”

        “Y/N.”

        “Yeah, as if,” he snorted. “I mean I know she likes me, but she likes everyone. There’s not a single mean bone in her body.”

        “No, I mean,” Steve huffed placing down the cup before he spilt some of it on himself, “she likes you. As in she might want to pursue a relationship with you.”

        Bucky was choking on his spit the second the word ‘relationship’ came out of his friend’s mouth. Y/N? Liked him? As in more than a friend? He’d be lying if he said that thought didn’t send him over the Moon, but it seemed like such a far reach, especially with the interactions they’d had, that he had to give Steve a glare, especially with how she didn’t even give a single sign she might be into him. 

       He raised an eyebrow. “Because you’re the expert on flirting and getting it on?”

        “Wow.” Steve put a hand on his chest in mock hurt. “That’s a low blow. I might’ve not had any game when I was skinny, but let me tell, you after the serum th-“

        “When was the last time you went on a date?” Bucky interrupted his rant.

        His friend broke the eye contact and paused, chewing on his bottom lip before deflecting. “Look that doesn’t matter.”

        Bucky rolled his eyes so much he feared they’d be permanently stuck like that.  

        “What matters is that she likes you, but she’s too shy to do anything about it,” Steve stated.

        “We had a pretty good conversation a couple of hours ago.” They did. If you take saying 'hello', an awkward wave and bashful smiles as a conversation, then yes, it was very successful.

        “Shy doesn’t always mean ‘incapable of holding a conversation’. Shy can mean not talking about how they’re feeling or how their day is because they think no one cares or would get annoyed with them,” Steve said looking over his mug.

        Bucky was baffled. “How – why – how could anyone think she’s annoying? She’s – she’s amazing!” But that’s when it hit him - Y/N never looked him in the eye, she always apologized for talking ‘too much’, and at any point in the conversation, she always diverted the attention away from her or her troubles.

        “So…” Bucky swallowed hard. “You think I should go for it?”

        Steve shrugged. “I think if you don’t, you’ll never know what it could lead to.”

        ***

        It was about an hour later after his enlightening chat with Steve that Bucky found himself walking towards where their resident lab rat usually stayed at when he heard muffled cursing.

        “Work, you absolute piece of shit!” Y/N exclaimed each word emphasized with a harsh hit against a machine’s side. “Top-notch technology my ass!”

        “Everything alright, doctor Y/L/N?” His voice was gruff as he interrupted her conversation with the computer. 

Not that Y/N would ever admit it, but usually just his presence alone set her body ablaze, but this time, it was a distraction and not a good one.

        “Just fucking peachy,” she grunted and slammed her hand against the computer with every uttered syllable.

        “Alright,” Bucky chuckled and entered the lab. “What did that poor computer do to you, since you seem so inclined to completely destroy it?”

        “For starters, it decided to shut down,” she growled at the computer, and if it was alive, it would hang its head in shame. “Then, when I rebooted it, the files were not lost, oh that I could live with, but they were corrupted. Meaning I do have them, but they’re useless, and that means I have to redo everything.”

        “You’d have to redo everything if the files were lost either way.” Bucky gave her a small smile, teasing the woman as she whined.

        “Yeah,” Y/N threw back her head. “But it wouldn’t be as humiliating. I mean, if they’re gone, they’re gone, but they aren’t!” She threw the screen a scowl. “The files are there, just sitting… and useless… just like me.”

        “Well, I wouldn’t say you’re useless." Bucky smirked at her, and she sighed.

        “Please, do tell what I’m of use here right now, right this moment.”

        “Company?” It came out more as a question than a statement, and that’s when Y/N realized how much she’d rattled on, how much of his precious world-saving time she’d taken up by a stupid mistake she made.

        “Sorry,” she muttered, shying away from Bucky’s gaze. “Didn’t mean to bore you with my crap.”

        “You don’t bore me. You could never.”

        He had that love-sick look on his face as she gave him a small smile, and her eyes dropped back to the ground. Not that Y/N ever noticed, but Sam never stopped teasing him about that fucking look. The one where his eyes glimmered like stars in the night sky, and his lips involuntarily lifted up in the corners. More than once Steve had to tell him to close his mouth or someone would slip on his drool. And each time, Bucky would slap his friend on the back of his head.

        “I’m not drooling,” he’d contest and go back to watching as Y/N moved around the lab, delicate fingers replacing whatever was fractured in his metal arm.

        “No, saliva just generally spills out of your mouth when she’s around.”

        Bucky would just grunt and say, ‘fuck off’. But he couldn’t help it really. 

        “Anyway." Y/N brought him out of the daydream. “Did you need anything? Is the arm acting up again?”

        Although she'd never think that Bucky had any feelings for her, there was some suspicion rising in her mind. Tony was the acting engineer, but on more than one occasion he had called her up and asked if she was available to take a look at Bucky's vibranium appendage.

        “Need some assistance, sweets,” the genius would mumble, and then when she would slip into work mode, he’d slyly exit the room and leave the two of them alone. And given how Tony knew, Y/N’s primary thing was chemistry and using the nanotech for cell regeneration, not engineering, it raised her suspicion level. Especially when the super-soldier came to her lab to have a check-up on days Tony was out specifically. 

        But she would never do anything about it. He could be standing at the altar with someone else in white walking towards him, and even then, Y/N, knowing it was her last chance, wouldn’t move a muscle to say what she felt. How could she when Bucky was the walking epitome of a Greek God while she tripped over her own feet while standing? For fuck’s sake, the man even fostered puppies in his spare time as if his day job wasn’t saving the world already how could her watching cells split in a petri dish match up to that?

        “Oh, uh,” he stammered fidgeting with his fingers. “No, I uh, actually came to ask you something. Nothing work or arm… related.”

        If Y/N’s heart wasn’t already beating out of her chest, she was pretty certain she’d vomit it up with the way he was looking at her. “Sure,” she whispered. “Umm, what do you want to know?”

        He twisted a ring on his flesh arm. She had gotten it for him two years ago during a game of ‘Secret Santa’, which Tony promptly had added her to the list. It made her feel all fuzzy and warm on the inside for being included, but then dread settled in. What the fuck do you get a bunch of superheroes that could afford literally anything they wanted? And then she’d pulled Bucky’s name from the tacky Santa’s hat.

        It wasn’t bad enough he was her crush, now she had to get him a gift he’d actually like, and she could barely hold a conversation with him that didn’t involve Avengers stuff. But from the looks of it, he had enjoyed the jewellery immensely, as any time he came over for whatever reason, he was wearing it. He liked it so much there was a lighter line of skin underneath the ring where the sun couldn’t get.

        But the words wouldn’t come out of his mouth. Bucky just froze as Y/N stared at him with hopeful and inquisitive eyes. All the things he wanted to say and ask just vanished from his brain as if he’d been put back into that horrible machine that used to wipe his mind.

        “Buck?” Her voice was small as his mouth hung open like an idiot. But he didn’t even get a chance to collect himself when Bruce rushed in.

        “Sorry to interrupt whatever this is, but Y/N I need you. There’s a problem with the cradle.”

        And that was her cue. With an apologetic smile, she pulled off her latex gloves and rushed out of the room, but not before leaning back in through the door. “Hopefully I should be done in two hours tops. Raincheck on that question?”

        Bucky shook his head. “You know what, it wasn’t that important anyway.”

        Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, hand reaching out to touch him, but he pushed past her and was gone, leaving the woman a bit stunned, and in all honesty - heartbroken.

***

        The rest of the day she spent in utter confusion, and Bucky in self-wallowing. Y/N couldn’t understand what had changed his mind so suddenly, what she’d done so wrong, and Bucky beat himself up the whole time about choking and running away. Which is why Steve was absolutely done with it.

        As Bucky sulked on the couch, stuffing his face with M&Ms and the pop tarts he’d stolen from Thor’s stash, Steve with Natasha, Clint, Tony, Bruce and Y/N in tow, all came into the room. 

        Seeing her lab coat swish behind her as she walked, Bucky slid down into the couch even more, as if the granite gray leather could absorb him and erase him from existence. God, how he wanted to be erased from existence. 

        “Hey, Y/N?” Tony drew everyone’s attention as he handed a coffee to her. “Would you mind taking a look at F.R.I.D.A.Y’s intercom system? She’s gotten a bit rusty here.”

        “Umm yeah.” She nodded, kinda confused as to why she'd have to do it, but Tony was her boss, so Y/N rarely asked him much. Unless something he said was absolutely dumb. “Mind getting me a ladder?”

        With a wink from Steve, Clint nodded. “Sure.”

        But instead of just him leaving, all of the Avengers slowly started to ‘disperse’ throughout the living-room, before bolting towards the hallway and telling the A.I. to shut everything down.

        “What’s going on?” Y/N asked looking around the common room, spotting the bright fiery hair of Natasha as she rushed out of the room, asking F.R.I.D.A.Y to override the lock code and not let either of them out. “Why are the doors locked?”

        The smug smile she received from the assassin only infuriated Y/N more. “Tony!” she yelled through the glass, but the genius put hands over his ears and screamed back at her.

        “Not until he talks to you!”

        That’s when she felt someone towering over her from behind. 

Two beautiful Y/E/C eyes looked up at him as Y/N turned around, confusion swimming in her irises. Bucky almost swore he passed out just from that look alone. 

“Buck, what’s going on?"

        The second he’d seen the group walk in, he knew what was happening. He wanted to murder all of them. Rip them apart piece by piece, but not in front of Y/N. No. He’d do that in the middle of the night, blending into the shadows and delivering slow and painful deaths to all of the conspirators. 

        But at the same time, this was his chance. There was literally nowhere for either of them to run unless you counted jumping out through the window and the ninety-story drop, you’d face. Which seemed very appealing to him at that moment, but Steve’s words rang through his head – ‘You’ll never know what it could lead to.” And he hoped it would lead to something beautiful, so taking a deep breath, Bucky confessed.

        “Because I’m a coward…” he sighed, “and I can’t do it without someone telling me to.”

        “Why?”

        “I’m scared,” it came out as a whisper, and Y/N had to take a step back hurt flashing across her face thinking back to all of the times they’d spent together, while in truth Bucky’d been terrified of her.

        “Of me?”

        Instantly he shook his head seeing the pain on her features, and once more Bucky scolded himself. “No… of what your reaction might be.”

        “Buck, you know I would never judge you. You can always talk to me… about anything.”

        “Yes, but this will change things.”

        “How?”

        “I don’t know… that’s what I’m scared of. I don’t want to lose you.”

        “Never. You could tell me you’re hiding a body in the tub, and I would offer you my help to get rid of it.”

        And it was this firm statement that solidified his decision.

        “Would you maybe,” Bucky exhaled deeply not daring to turn and look at the team that was gawking at both of them like hawks pressed against the glass, the same team that had bolted shut every door and window to prevent either of theirs escapes, “would you maybe want to go out… with… me… on a date?”

        Y/N was stunned. The cup of coffee she was still holding in her hand went slack, and it would’ve smashed against the ground had Bucky not quickly stepped forward and caught it stepping to stand in front of her.

        “You don’t have to,” he mumbled, looking at the milk infused drink. It was a light beige colour with a white foamy swirl in the middle like a little vortex that was sucking him in. God did he hope it would pull him in and never let out after what he was going to say. “It’s just that… I really like you.” There. Now it was out there. “I really like you. And not the way a friend likes a friend. I like you in a way that I want to hold your hand when we walk out together. I want to buy you coffee in the mornings and wake you up with breakfast in the bed and smooth out the hair that’s fallen on your face…”

        She wasn’t breathing as with every single word said Bucky seemed to move closer. “I think I might be in love with you, Y/N…” his hand gently lifted and cupped her cheek.

        She just stared at him, mouth slightly agape, shallow breaths escaping into the air as her heart beat out of her chest in a manner, she thought it might hit Bucky directly in the stomach. 

        “Say something,” he pleaded, blue eyes searching for an answer in Y/N’s Y/E/C ones. “Please.”

        “I – I don’t know what to say,” she whispered back. And it wasn’t because she didn’t feel the same, not at all. In fact, when he had started his whole confession, she felt like she was about to pass out from all the love that invaded her body, but the thing is - Y/N has never been good with emotions. She never knew how to process them, how to give the correct answer and make people happy. She was shy, awkward and a recluse. And now she was supposed to come out of her safety shell. Which is why for the first time in her life, she expressed herself with her actions by leaning up, grasping onto the nape up Bucky’s neck and pulling their mouths together.

        When her lips touched his, Bucky knew there was no going back. Not that he’d ever want to. He couldn’t help the giant smile that bloomed on his face, as he pulled Y/N closer to him, wrapping his arm one around her waist, the other trailing up to settle between her shoulder blades, pushing their chests together, so impossibly close an ant couldn’t crawl between the two. 

        It became even more of a beautiful moment when Y/N’s own lips pulled up in a smile, breaking the kiss apart, but leaving them grinning and feeling dizzy from the happiness. 

        “Guess we needed a gentle nudge in the right direction,” Bucky gave out a small laugh, both palms securely resting on Y/N’s hips and bringing her closer.

        “I’d say it was more of a shove with a rifle at our backs,” she said, holding onto Bucky’s shoulders fingers skimming against his clavicles and making his breath stop halfway to his throat. “Let’s… let’s go somewhere… the two of us without a bunch of people watching our every move.” Her eyes flitted over to where the rest of the team stood behind the doors listening in on the two, and suddenly the heads of their teammates disappeared from the view, making Y/N and Bucky shake their heads.

        “Yeah,” he chuckled, squeezing her side. “That’s probably the best idea. You truly are a dream, aren’t ‘ya?”

        Y/N could only chuckle and hide her face in the crook of Bucky’s neck as her hold tightened around his middle, and he responded much the same by weaving his fingers in the hairs on the back of her neck and pulling her closer if that was even possible, burying his nose in the Y/H/C locks.

        “Don’t go all shy on me now.”

        “Can’t,” she mumbled back. “You make me turn into mush.”

        Bucky chuckled, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “A cute mush.”

        “Shut up!”

And he did by pulling her in for another searing kiss. God, how he loved his shy girl.

Tags (crossed out wouldn't take):

Bucky tag list: @thunderous-flower @who-cares-rn​ @projectxhappiness​ @callmebucky-doll​ @coal000​ @killuaenthusiast @courtneychicken​ @sophiealiice​ @raquelbc2003​ @watch-out-for-thorns​ @potentially-kinetic​ @thatonegirljessy99​ @proxinge @bbkenna @buckysclub​ @ulired @fangirlofeverythingbasically @mrsalh32611​ @horrorx570ximagines​ @the-nargles-made-me-do-it​ @pooslie​ @itsisabelanotisabella @httpmcrvel​ @purplebananatragedy​ @pxrrishly​ @parker-barnes-af​ @skulliebythesea​ @california-grown​ @stevehesaidabadlanguageword​ @belongsto-prachi​ @hello-i-am-insane

Marvel tags: @nerissa98​ @happyseagrill​ @asguardiansoftheavengers​ @crazybutconfidentaf​ @wishingforahome​ @pizzarollpatrol​ @desir-ae​

Forever tags: @lumelgy​ @palaiasaurus64​ @supernaturalbaesduh​ @breezy1415​ @crazy--me​ @thatawkwardlittlefangirl​ @sea040561​ @staryeyedgirl​ @deathbyarabbit​ @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91​ @dalilx​ @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki​ @maladaptive-ninja-returns​ @averyrogers83​ @in-the-end-im-still-trash​ @gallifreyansass​ @dewy-biitch​ @avxgers​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @sweet-ladyy​ @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines​ @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @strangersstranger​

A/N: have you ever hated your job so much so, that you can’t sleep, can’t eat and basically live in a well of anxiety? and not because of the work itself, but because of that ONE PERSON that makes it miserable? Cause I do. And I can’t wait to get away from it.

P.S. sorry for being so pessimistic, but it’s just a nightmare.

P.S.S. feedback is always appreciated :) P.S.S.S. if you wanna be added to a taglist, drop me a message :)

[onmykneesforhotdilfs]

Tilt

Bloom smiled as a butler offered her a crystal glass filled with, what she assumed was, very expensive champagne. She nodded gratefully as she took a sip, and then promptly had to physically stop herself from spitting it right back out. Either the champagne wasn’t as good as she expected or officials of Isis simply decided to serve something from the supermarket, while hoping that no one would notice. Then again, Bloom mused, it might just be that my taste buds are so used to the $10 wine so everything fancier just tastes like crap.

She shook her head and crossed her arms underneath the bustier of her skintone, off the shoulder gown with baby blue flowers scattered across the top and sporadically across the skirt as well. The nude color made her appear more tan than she actually was and while the dress was indeed very beautiful, it was just as uncomfortable. Bloom winced as shifting weight from one stiletto clad foot to another sent white hot signal of pain when one of the wires supporting her bustier stabbed her in the ribs. She bit the inside of her cheek to in order to stop herself from simply burning the fabric.

A cheerful laugh of her best friend snapped her out of her trance. Stella emerged from the mass of bodies on the dancefloor, her asymmetrical off shoulder gown highlighting every curve on her body perfectly. Long purple sleeve blended with yellow in a way Bloom didn’t even deem possible considering how different two colors are. Her other arm, that was completely sleeveless, sported some golden jewelry and floor length gown swept the floor elegantly with Stella’s every step. She was holding the same glass, filled with same champagne as Bloom, with her well manicured fingers. As soon as Stella was within arm’s reach, she grabbed Bloom’s elbow and leaned close to her, smile completely disappeared from her face.

“This stuff is absolutely disgusting.” Stella spoke through gritted teeth.

“Oh really?” Bloom asked as smirk slowly rose on her lips. “And here I thought you preferred this,” she lifted a fancy glass into the air, “over my cheap wine.”

“Anything is better than this, for the lack of a better word, crap.” Stella scoffed. “This would’ve never happened on Solaria.” She tilted the glass once again to take a sip in hope it somehow started tasting better but ended up disappointed. Bloom almost laughed at Stella’s expression. “But then again, should I have expected anything more from a planet Diaspro came from?”

Bloom almost winced at the mention of a woman that had the ability to mess up her relationship with Sky like no other. The latest stunt she pulled, thanks to Valtor, only made Bloom more angry at everybody that turned a blind eye to her actions simply because she is a princess. It was only then that the thought occurred to her, that Diaspro might be here and that she might ruin their mission. She glanced nervously around the hall, panicking more the longer she couldn’t find her.

Stella, recognizing Bloom’s ‘two breaths away from having a panic attack' look on her face, was quick to put a calming hand on her shoulder. Bloom recoiled slightly but Stella gripped the flesh lightly in order to ground her. She leaned closer to whisper in Bloom’s ear. “Relax, she’s not here. Apparently her parents don’t allow her to go to events where his highness, prince Sky of Eraklyon, might be present.”

Sarcasm was obvious in Stella’s voice but it served the purpose of calming Bloom to the point where she actually start thinking lucidly again.

Bloom took a deep breath as her shoulders slouched slightly forward. “Thank you.” She whispered to Stella. Then, the actual sentences Stella was saying caught up to her and her eyebrows touched her hairline in obvious amusement. “Still angry at Sky I see?”

Stella snorted and wrinkled her nose at the mention of Sky’s name. “If you were smarter, you’d be angry too.”

“Hey!” Bloom yelped angrily but settled down quickly as she looked away. “I am angry at him.”

“Apparently not enough.” Stella gripped the glass so hard her knuckles turned white. “I mean, what’s up with him suddenly becoming a poster boy and actually listening to what his daddy says?”

“Well, technically, Sky’s meeting with Diaspro or her parents might cause interplanetary scandal between Eraklyon and Isis.” Bloom spoke in Techna's voice.

Stella’s lip twitched. “Still, interplanetary scandal or a potential threat of one never actually stopped him from going against orders before. So my question still remains.”

“Any sign of Valtor?” Bloom asked, hoping to divert the route of conversation.

“I just spoke to Techna. He hasn’t been detected and Amplificarum is still safely locked in the vault.”

“He’ll show up eventually.” Bloom nodded absentmindedly. “He always does.”

“See this, this right here,” Stella pointed to the marble floor and Bloom lowered her gaze to the direction her finger was indicating but furrowed her brows when she found nothing. “This is why Sky should be here.” Bloom’s lips shaped into a thin line whe she realized what she was talking about as Stella continued to rant. “Isn’t he concerned that Valtor might attack and something might happen to you?”

Bloom gasped. “I’m not some… damsel in distress that needs saving Stella!” She scoffed. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.

“C’mon Bloom, don’t give me that.”

“Well what do you want me to say Stell? That I’m angry? Disappointed? Fine. I’m disappointed that Sky chose to follow the order from his father when I wanted him to come with me. He most certainly could've found another solution but he did nothing. Instead he left me to face, potentially Diaspro and Valtor alone. There! Was that enough? Are you happy now?” Bloom’s cheeks were red by the time she finished her rant as her chest continued rising up and down in order to return much needed oxygen into her lungs, her exhaustion more due to stress than the actual rant.

Stella smiled and patted Bloom on the shoulder. “There you go. Now was that so hard to say?”

“What?”

“Nevermind that, anyway, be sure to tell him that next time, ok?”

Bloom rolled her eyes but a smile threatened to spread on her face. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Mhm, that’s why you love me so much.” Stella spoke with an obvious pride evident in her voice.

“Yeah, let’s just say you’re lucky I do.” Bloom shook her head and grabbed Stella’s elbow as she spotted a familiar short brown hair emerging from the crowd. “There’s Brandon.” She turned to Stella and pointed to where she saw him. “Go bother him for a while.”

Stella pouted and stuck her tongue out playfully at Bloom but strutted off towards her boyfriend, leaving Bloom alone.

With Stella gone, all of Bloom’s physical discomfort came rushing back and hitting her like a rogue train. Her feet ached, her head started hurting from the tight updo and she was pretty sure the wire that poked her in the ribs has punctured her skin. She felt the tender area with her opposite hand as much as she dared and exhaled short puff of air when she found nothing. She wanted to sit down or maybe even lay down and then not move for a few days.

She shook her head and took a sip of her disgusting drink in order to wake herself up. She looked around the dancefloor, automatically finding Stella and Brandon as they swayed to the rhythm. Techna and Timmy were huddled in the corner probably discussing something about technology. Musa and Riven were also in the corner, be it on the opposite side from Techna, which greatly surprised Bloom because Musa was more often than not first on the dancefloor alongside Layla (though club suited them more, but the two always found a way to fit in anywhere), but right now dancefloor seemed like the last place Musa wanted to be. Instead, fairy of music was busy glaring daggers at her boyfriend that seemed to pay little to no attention to them.

Bloom rolled her eyes at the two of them (not that her and Sky were any better) and focused on finding Layla that also, surprisingly, decided to go solo on this mission. She found her talking to some Isis official that she probably knew due to her status. With Layla’s position in mind, bloom turned to finding the last couple but Flora and Helia were nowhere to be found so Bloom assumed they were probably taking a stroll in the garden.

With those in mind, Bloom once again diverted her eyes from the dancefloor and looked at the champagne bubbling in her glass as her thoughts ran over the information she remembered about Amplificarum.

Apparently, the green stone, by physical appearance almost indistinguishable from emerald, had the power to magnify any spells or beams aimed at something. Or someone, Bloom thought. It was most commonly used for protection spells and it generally wasn’t meant for offensive spellwork. Bloom somehow had doubts Valtor will use it for protection spells. The sheer thought of chaos that could potentially happen if such artifact ever fell into Valtor’s, or anyone’s wrong hands, made Bloom shudder all over and grip her champagne glass bit tighter. That can never be allowed to happen. It’s why you’re here. There’s no way he will be able to slip in and out undetected with eleven pairs of eyes looking for him.

Bloom couldn’t deny that Valtor is the most powerful, and quite frankly the most cunning, villain they ever had the pleasure of meeting. What irked her to the point of madness, however, was the fact that Valtor always seemed to be one step ahead of them.

The battles are like chess game. Daphne’s voice sounded in her head. In order to defeat your opponent you have to figure out their strategy. You have to master the art of reading their moves and find a way to turn the odds in your favor.

It was not hard to guess who played certain roles in this game though. She was an amateur, an amateur that was loosing valuable chess pieces battle after battle whereas Valtor was a professional that suffered minor losses here and there but still had the most prized figurines in the game. It didn’t take a professional chess player to see that the odds were most definitely not in Bloom’s favor.

He’ll slip sooner or later. Bloom thought with a smile. Even Valtor can make a mistake. And it takes only a second, a slip of concentration, a lapse in judgment and the board will tilt in our direction. Even an amateur can get lucky and stometimes, the pawn can be the most powerful piece capable of settling the final score, so don’t sell yourself short.

Bloom was so distracted by her mental pep talk that she failed to notice one of the guests approach.

“This stuff they’re serving us,” Bloom jumped as a deep melodic voice rang out next to her. “it’s not something I expected from Isis royal court.”

The stranger came to stand almost arm to arm with her, but she also noticed she was almost two heads shorter than him.

“In a good, or a bad way?” Bloom asked with a frown. The stranger has short brown hair styled to a perfection, not even a hair out of place. From what she could see from the side without being too obvious, she noticed he had perfectly straight nose and an overall boyish appearance.

The stranger lifted one of his eyebrows curiously. “Have you tried that?” He pointed to her glass.

“Yes.”

“And how does it taste?”

“Like a hair conditioner.”

He nodded approvingly. “Interesting comparison. Not inaccurate though. Well Miss, I think you just answered your own question.”

Despite all odds, Bloom found herself smiling at stranger’s antics and clever quips. “I am sorry but I don’t think I got your name.”

“That’s because I didn’t give it to you.”

Okay, rude.

“Well,” she forced out, “would you be so kind to give me your name then?” Bloom really hoped her smile was more convincing than her words.

“There’s no need, Bloom. You already know my name.” Bloom’s smile vanished as the man finally turned to face her, the unique icy colored eyes she only saw on one particular individual looking straight into her wider-than-dinnerplates blue ones. She felt a bead of sweat roll down the thin column of her neck and disappear into her cleavage.

Bloom gulped.

Valtor smirked.

���You!” was the only thing that came out of her mouth.

He shook his head, his eyebrows set in a frown as he let out a disappointed huff. “That is not my name princess. You might wish to try again.”

“What are you doing here, Valtor?” Bloom managed through gritted teeth.

“Oh so you do remember.” Valtor smirked like the cat who got all the cream. “Good. Otherwise I would have to remind you and I really don’t want to spoil anyone’s evening.”

“As if you need me, or anyone, for that!” Bloom whisper-yelled as her eyes darted desperately across the room, trying to locate her team.

“Now now,” Valtor cooed, “it is not polite to look away from the person you’re having a conversation with, Bloom. Someone should’ve taught you proper manners.”

Bloom gasped as she felt the dragon fire raging in her chest, the effect much more intense than she’s ever experienced before. She swayed slightly on her feet and she raised her unoccupied arm to clutch lightly at her chest. The world was spinning in front of her eyes and just as she feared she might topple over, one of Valtor’s large hands grasped her bicep and the forest fire that burned in her turned into smoldering ashes.

Bloom leaned slightly on her side, Valtor’s arm acting like an anchor as she fought to regain her breath.

“What,” she rasped out, her voice hoarse like she just inhaled smoke, “was that?”

“Just a reminder that you should not antagonize me.” Valtor’s voice was cold and sharp and it made her swallow down a snarky response.

“Is that how you snuck past Techna and me?” The pain was gone but her legs still felt wobbly and she was forced to hold onto Valtor in order to remain standing. “A cloaking spell?”

“If the shoe fits…” he trailed off as Bloom stood up to her full height but despite the heels she wore, Valtor noted with a slight amusement, only managed to reach his shoulders. The glare princess of Domino sent him would make a lesser man run to his mom but it only made Valtor grin. Bloom ripped her arm from his grasp and he had to bite his lip to stifle a chuckle that threatened to escape as Bloom stumbled slightly when he willingly let her go.

Bloom mumbled something that even his heighten senses couldn’t pick up. “I apologize darling, I didn’t quite catch that. Would you mind repeating it?”

“I said that if you turn around and bend over, I’ll show you where my shoe fits.”

Valtor was in stupor for a minute, but then a surprised chuckle broke through his lips and his shoulders started shaking from the laughter he tried, and was slowly failing at, keeping contained. “Oh, and she bites.”

Valtor continued laughing sporadically, stopping for a few moments only to start up again. The lines around his eyes crinkled and Bloom found herself fascinated by how melodic and pleasant his laugh sounded. The thought only lasted for a few seconds before Bloom stomped on it with a part of her brain that was still capable of making rational thoughts. Get it together, Bloom.

“If you’re quite done,” Bloom spoke, her cheeks red from rather unorthodox behavior she exhibited few minutes ago, “how about you tell me what are you doing here, finally?”

“I think you know why I’m here.”

“Forget it, you’re not getting it!” She turned to face him fully, her eyes boring a hole into the side of his head.

Valtor lifted his eyebrows as if to say ‘Really?’, mockery clear in his eyes. “Are you going to stop me?”

Bloom nodded. “I am.”

Valtor shook his head, smile on his face, amused by her confident tone. She thinks she’s a match for me. Silly girl. He was just about to tell her as much when the music that played as more of a background noise, suddenly became louder, loud to the point it drowned out all the chatter in the room.

Bloom almost jumped out of her skin when the orchestra started playing, loudly. She flinched, however, when she once again felt Valtor’s huge hand on her body. This time his palm was not in a direct contact with her skin but the unusual placement of the said appendage caused her to panic. His hand landed on the small of her back and it was quite persistently pushing her forward, straight onto the dancefloor between other couples.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She hissed through clenched teeth, sparks flaring at her fingertips, beginnings of an offensive spell already forming on her vocal cords.

“We are dancing.” His calm voice only made her more angry and she started struggling against the force pushing her forward.

“I don’t want to dance. Let me go.”

He stopped just short of the line separating area designed for dancing and bowed down theatrically while offering his hand to her. “May I have this dance, Miss?”

Few people closest to them turned around at the sound of his voice and Bloom had to bite her tongue to resist the urge to claw his eyes out. “No, you can’t!” She huffed out quietly instead, her neck and cheeks turning red from anger. “I told you, I don’t want to dance and I most certainly do not want to dance with the likes of you!"

“You wound me princess, truly. I don’t bite… not unless you want me to, of course.”

Bloom’s nostrils flared and flames began to dance in her eyes. What insolence.

“Let’s make a deal, princess of Domino.” He interrupted her just as smoke was about to start coming out of her ears. “You let me have this dance, and I’ll tell you everything you wish to know and I promise to tell the truth.”

“Why should I trust you?” She raised her eyebrows but it was obvious she was interested.

“You shouldn’t.” He tilted his head to the side as smile stretched across his lips. “But that never stopped you before.”

Sea blue met the arctic ice. A spark erupted and the coldness of his gaze melted away. “I give you my word.” His hand was still hovering in the air, his palm opened in invitation as he tilted his head in the direction of the dancefloor.

Bloom weighed her options. For as far as she knew, this could be another one of Valtor’s tricks to gain the information from her instead of vice versa. But the burning questions only he had the answers to kept pressing on the part of her brain that was telling her how much of a madness this was. Bloom sighed. Her hand rose hesitantly and slowly took hold of Valtor’s.

“One dance. That’s all you get.”

“That’s all I’ll need.”

He gripped Bloom’s fingers bit tighter as he lead her into the classic pose with his unoccupied hand placed on her lower back, lower than socially accepted when dancing with someone you do not know, but still in the safe zone that didn’t ask for Bloom to knee him in the balls. His other hand loosened around her fingers and now gently supported her palm. Instead of placing her other arm on Valtor’s shoulder, Bloom gripped one side of her skirt so she could move freely and to minimize contact. He looked down , searching her face, but Bloom turned her head in the opposite direction.

Valtor was never the one to blatantly display his emotions but Bloom’s refusal to look him in the eyes was one thing that almost made him boil. He didn’t know why the daughter of those that defeated him had such effect on him and he didn’t like it. He hated not knowing what was running through her head, especially in the place where he was in an obvious disadvantage concerning numbers of the two opposing teams. During his careful observation, he counted eleven of them, and there was only one of him. Not like any of them actually pose any threat, he mused. The only one that is able to even remotely challenge me is the one I’m dancing with and from this proximity she can be easily taken care of. He studied her posture, how her eyes avoided his at all cost, how her back stood stiff like someone stuck a pole to her spine, how tightly she gripped her skirt as he moved with her elegantly. It was obvious she was not enjoying this. Well then, let’s make you even more uncomfortable.

Without warning, Valtor pulled Bloom closer to his body, upper body completely pressed against hers, one of his legs between both of hers as her head snapped up to look at his cheeky smile. Fire was blazing in her eyes but Valtor didn’t care. He thrived on her reactions. Bloom squeezed the hand that was holding hers in warning but Valtor only gripped the flesh of her hip in response. Devils were dancing in his eyes but to Bloom they looked alive for the first time. Gone was the icy look capable of making even the best trained soldier hesitate before rushing into the battle against him.

He’s genuinely amused by this. She thought. If only be wasn’t having fun at my expense, I might’ve let it slide. Valtor twirled her around other dancing couples, his graceful steps never flattering, and it occurred to Bloom for the first time that she actually didn’t step on his toes even once.

“How are you doing this?” She asked him as he swung her away from himself, only to bring her in again, her back to his front, both of his hands gripping her hips. In her peripheral vision, she saw him rise his eyebrow. “I’ve never been good at dancing.”

Valtor smirked. “Perhaps you’ve never had a good enough partner.”

Judging by the tone of his voice, he was mocking Sky openly so Bloom miscalculated and stepped with the heel of her foot onto his polished shoe. She heard him grunt as, what she assumed was a curse, left his mouth. She smiled. If you play with fire, you’re gonna get burned.

“What happened to my parents?” Her next question made him quirk an eyebrow and she saw his eyes widen for a second before he regained his bearings.

“What did Faragonda tell you?” He answered her questions with one of his own and that made her irrationally angry for some reason.

“I asked you first.” She bit her tongue before insults started spewing out of her mouth. She realized long ago that snarky comments only made him more angry so she wasn’t willing to risk her one chance. “Answer me.”

“Do you think you are in position to demand anything, heiress of the lost kingdom?” Anger was starting to creep up in his voice as he dipped her low and snapped her back up harsher than necessary.

Bloom gasped as she suddenly found herself in an almost horizontal position. “You promised.”

Valtor assumed their previous position, except this time he lowered his head so his breath would graze her neck when he spoke. He sighed and goosebumps rose on Bloom’s skin as his hot breath washed over her collarbones and sternum.

“The truth is, I do not know what happened to your parents. I was imprisoned before the final battle. As far as I’m aware, ancient witches were the last to see them.”

Bloom swallowed. “That’s not Faragonda’s version.”

Valtor laughed, though his laugh was somehow bitter. “And you, as a good fairy, believe everything that your headmistress says don’t you?”

“And who am I supposed to trust? You?”

“Have you ever wondered why,” he repositioned her hand slightly as he side stepped to avoid the couple that was directly on a collision course with them. The sudden movement made the lock of Bloom’s hair wiggle out of her bun. “your headmistress send bunch of barely legal girls to suicide missions against the powerful enemies such as myself?”

“Because she trusts us?”

“Because she has an underlying motive.” He continued when Bloom scoffed. “Think about it. Can you honestly tell me your headmistress provides you with all the available information before she sends you off into battles?”

His question made her think of all the times Faragonda withheld the valuable information because she deemed it necessary and she bit her lip as realization hit her. “That doesn’t make her evil.”

“I never said it made her evil.” Smirk once again climbed on her face. “She’s cunning alright, but not cunning enough to be considered evil.”

“What’s her underlying motive according to your expertise?”

He shrugged carelessly. “Everybody needs someone to do their dirty work.”

“Like you have Trix?” Bloom raised her eyebrows in question.

“Don’t remind me.” He groaned. “Those three are as incompetent as they get.”

They danced in surprisingly comfortable silence for a few seconds, Valtor’s capable hands leading them. “You never answered my question.” Bloom said.

“What question?”

“How are you doing this?” She tilted her head slightly to their intertwined hands.

The edge of Valtor’s lips turned upwards. “You know how I’m doing it.”

Bloom frowned in confusion. “No, I actually really don’t.”

“Yes you do.” She was about to open her mouth to protest and to ask him what the hell he’s playing at, but he was faster than her. “You just have to let yourself feel it.”

Bloom’s shoulders tensed as the feeling of her native fire burning spread across her whole body. Okay, this is new.

“Pretty impressive, don’t you think?”

Bloom locked eyes with Valtor as he bent slightly in the knees, his hands gripped her hips tightly and her hands automatically came to rest on his broad shoulders, as he lifted her up and then, with care she didn’t know he was capable of, lowered her back to the ground. There was something hypnotic about his eyes and Bloom found herself unable to look away as she fought to regain her breath once her feet touched the ground again.

Whatever moment they shared was interrupted by a horrendous sound of alarm blaring and all the lights going off at the same time as explosion sounded somewhere above them. Valtor smirked as Bloom recoiled from him as if he burned her. Her hands lit on fire as people started screaming around her and moving away from them.

Valtor could hear Bloom’s friends calling her name as they pushed through the crowd of panicked guests.

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it!?” Anger was obvious in her eyes and Valtor found himself fascinated as the fiery glow from her hands reflected in her irises. What he would do to have her on his side.

He shook himself out of his stupor as he snapped his fingers, letting his disguise slip off. Short brown hair and boyish look was replaced by long strawberry blond hair and his face morphed back into high cheekbones and sharp jaw. “I would love to continue our conversation,” he raised his arm and shot blindly towards the ceiling, blowing a huge hole into it. “however, I believe that my time has run out.”

Distant flashes lit up and Winx finally emerged from the crowd, sparkly outfits and huge wings on point. Bloom was the only one that remained in her normal attire, her hands showing no sign of burning out anytime soon, as she kept shooting daggers at Valtor with her eyes.

“It’s a shame I wasn’t able to answer more of your questions, Bloom. But I don’t think this is our last meeting.” Valtor grinned, thirty two pearly white teeth on display. “Besides,” he drawled as Icy flew from the direction of the vault Amplificarum was locked in, green gem standing out against the pale skin of her hand. “you know where to find me.”

“Solar energy!” Stella’s arm shot up, spell hurtling straight towards Valtor, but he didn’t even bat an eyelash as his hand rose to absorb the spell.

“Stop in the name of the law!” Armed soldiers and specialists started breaking through, their weapons and swords drawn and ready for a fight.

Valtor’s laugh echoed in the room as he shot off towards the hole in the ceiling, his mouth reciting the spell Bloom was quite familiar with. “Have the taste of your own medicine, princess of Solaria.”

Bloom barely had time to put up a shield as Stella’s own amplified spell was hurled back to them, painting the whole room in white hot glow, forcing everyone to close their eyes so they don’t go blind.

When Bloom finally gathered enough strength to open her eyes, Valtor was nowhere to be seen and people, specialists, guards and her team were slowly climbing back on their feet. Remnants of Stella’s spell still lingered in the air, making the room uncomfortably bright and forcing Bloom to squint.

“He did it again.” Stella spoke next to her and Bloom nodded absentmindedly as Stella continued looking around. “He used a heightened version of my spell… it’s a miracle no one’s been hurt.”

Bloom shook her head. “I don’t think he meant to hurt anyone Stell. He obviously needed a distraction to get away.”

“He doesn’t want unnecessary pain and destruction… you told me that’s what he said to you on Andros.”

Bloom nodded. “I think he managed to fulfill his promise, for once.”

Bloom looked up where Valtor made his exit and couldn’t help but to think that the chessboard once again tilted in his favor.

[nukacoola]

Companions react to Danse stepping out of power armor for the first time!

Cait: 

She would look Danse up and down very obviously and grin which would make him extremely uncomfortable. 

“Ya’outgha get out of that thing more often Dansey. Who knew there were cookies in that tin can of yours.”

She obviously isn’t actually interested in Danse. Way too boring. But she’s not one to toss out eye candy just cause it isn’t her favorite flavor. She wouldn’t actively follow him but for fun and also to get on his nerves she would definitely cat-call him everytime he was in hearing range. Deacon and Hancock might join in for a few comments if they don’t have anything better to do.

She would not stop unless sole made a convincing plea or reason for why she should and maybe not even then.

Danse would not respond or look at Cait but he would be very red and never get out of his suit in front of her again.

Codsworth: 

“Why Paladin Danse I dare say you’ve been keeping up your workout routine! Cheers to your excellent health whether in or out of your power armor!” Codsworth is reassured that his owner is traveling with someone so equipped for the struggles of the wasteland.

“Uh, thank you, Codsworth.” Danse would feel a bit awkward but he would appreciate the compliment. 

“Might I polish that for you while you're otherwise engaged? It seems to be in a just dreadful state and I would like nothing more than for you to be looking your best in your wasteland escapades!” Though he is reassured by Danse’s physical state and abilities, he is mortified by the state his armor is in. All the scratches, dings, and dirt? It’s just horrible. Codsworth has always wanted an opportunity to fix that suit up and is pretty happy that the day has finally arrived.

“I- If you’d like to you can.”

“Oh good! I do so love a difficult task!” With that Codsworth would zoom away to procure the necessary supplies to return Danse’s armor to it’s original state. Danse didn’t really know whether or not he should be offended at the robot’s comments but he decided to just continue about his business and not think about it too much. 

Curie:

“Oh Monsieur Danse, you are quite zee lovely specimen! I would be eager to do a physical examination if you would allow me to.” Ever since leaving the vault, Curie has been astounded at how many different sorts of humans there are. Danse is particularly interesting to her because of the amazing athletic feats he does so regularly. She is also interested in studying the effects of constant power armor usage on the human body. When she sees him step out of his suit for the first time and sees his overly muscular physique, it just tacks on another reason she wants to study him. 

Before Blind Betrayal:

“The only specimen that needs examining is you, synth. Don’t talk to me unless you’re submitting yourself to the Brotherhood.” The only reason Curie isn’t already on the Prydwen is because Sole thinks it’s their friend. It bothers Danse immensely that Sole hasn’t destroyed or used this inhuman thing already.

(Don’t get mad at me he literally says this in game.)

Curie is very hurt, she expected this reaction but it still hurt. She was still getting used to feelings such as the pained ones she felt in moments like these.

After Blind Betrayal:

“No. Thank you.” Danse’s words were strained. Being around Curie was pretty awful for him. He had treated her so terribly before and he still had strong feelings of disgust towards her despite what he knows now. Everytime he sees her and has those feelings of hate and disgust, he remembers that he and Curie are the same. He’s still struggling to overcome the years of propaganda that were drilled into him. 

Curie is disappointed. Did Danse not see they are the same? If he didn’t believe in her humanity then he would have to not believe in his own. It is very confusing for Curie. She hopes that he will eventually go back on his denial of her offer. He would be a very interesting specimen.

Deacon:

He would be surprised that Danse would be able to wear that clunky thing so much in the first place. He wouldn’t be surprised at how muscular he is under the suit though. It takes a lot of strength to operate those suits. He’d read that before they were fully developed, a lot of trial runs had resulted in really terrible accidents. The kind of accidents that crush all of your bones at once or remove your top half from your bottom.

Deacon would definitely make a few jokes. “Hey the sardine’s outta the can!” “Isn’t getting out of that bulldozer against Brotherhood policy or something?” “And I thought it was glued on! Learn something new everyday.”

Danse would scowl at his comments but say nothing. He did not like Deacon one bit. That man’s hiding something and if it turns out what he’s hiding will harm Sole or the Brotherhood’s mission, there was gonna be hell to pay. Danse could’ve sworn he’d seen him on the Prydwen a few times but whenever he looked back again to check, he was gone. Danse didn’t much like the idea of leaving his power armor alone with Deacon around but Sole assured him he’s harmless. We’ll see...

Whenever Danse returned to his suit Deacon would stand suspiciously close to it and act like he was trying to play cool after almost being caught doing something nefarious. He would never get tired of watching Danse carefully inspect every part of the armor before apprehensively getting in. Man that guy’s fun to mess with.

Dogmeat: 

He was so surprised! He thought this human was just made of metal! But now Dogmeat can play and jump and lick! Yes!!

Danse has no idea how to deal with a dog he wasn’t allowed to kick so he would just try to awkwardly push the pup off until Sole took care of it.

Hancock: 

Oh HELL YES! Hancock has wanted to punch this fucker since he first laid eyes on him. “HEY SOLDIER BOY, TIME TO SEE WHAT YOU CAN DO OUT OF YOUR DAMN COWARD COFFIN!” He would make a beeline towards the paladin and the paladin would speed walk towards the ghoul as well. Sole barely let him insult the damn freak but this was a direct attack of which he was most definitely gonna defend himself from.

Sole would freak out a bit and try to get in between the two. They would both try to get Sole out of the way so they could pummel each other. A brief alliance in order to facilitate their battle. This was too sweet of an opportunity to miss. 

“Sorry Sunshine, this is happening.”

“Sole, it has directly started an altercation with me and I intend to see it through.”

If they both had a great relationship with Sole after a bit of panicked begging to both parties, the men would begrudgingly back off. They would, however, insult each other viciously despite Sole’s protests. 

“You have no fucking idea how lucky you are meathead. I swear to god if they weren’t here…”

“You call me a meathead but you’re the one who’s rotting, ghoul.”

They would continue to jab each other until Sole dragged Danse off to do what he got out of his suit to do in the first place. 

If one or both of them didn’t have a close relationship with Sole, well, it wouldn’t be pretty. They would forcibly move Sole out of the way and fight for a while. Though Danse is much bigger than Hancock, Hancock is quicker and better at hand to hand. Danse, being unused to fighting outside of his armor, was ultimately unable to beat the ghoul. Hancock landed one final blow to his face, knocking Danse flat. When he stayed down Hancock laughed loudly and spit at him.

“Done in by the best, lucky you.” It would be a huge blow to Danse’s ego and he’d resent Hancock even more now. Hancock would gloat constantly when Danse was around. “Heyyy, there’s my favorite punching bag!” “Come on over Dansey I won’t bite!” He wouldn’t out of shame, but if Danse ever did try to retort, Hancock would just taunt him. Saying something like “Oh yeah? Ya know my favorite way to settle conflicts is by beating the other asshole into the dirt. Hop outta that suit and we can go for round two.”

MacCready:

Mac’s always thought of Danse as an annoying asshole. He still thinks of him this way but when he stepped out of that armor for the first time. Ho lee sh-crap. MacCready might have to look into joining the Brotherhood if the rest of those guys looked the same as Danse. He had expected him to be strong cause of the whole carrying 500 pounds of steel everywhere but his body was something Mac was not expecting and something he could look at for a while. 

If Danse came near the merc he would probably clam up and blush a bit. If Danse caught him staring, he would annoyedly ask, “Is there a problem, civilian?”

“I- uh no.” any other day he would’ve fired back some snide remark but he couldn’t quite seem to think of one right now. 

Nick:

Nick really couldn’t give less of a damn. He hated Danse, Danse hated him, and the two did their best to ignore each other. 

Piper: Piper didn’t really care either. Sure he was muscular but she was very turned off by the everything else about him. All she really payed attention to was the possibility of an exclusive interview or an inside look at the Brotherhood’s workings. Danse would never agree to either of those though. Preston: Preston didn’t care. He already knew you had to be strong to wear power armor especially if you wore them as much as Brotherhood Paladins did. He didn’t like the Brotherhood and by extension, he didn’t trust Danse. Preston was mannerly of course, for Sole, but he knows Danse thinks very little of the Minutemen so he didn’t try too hard to be kind. Strong: Strong thinks this is good time to smash strong human. He has killed many brothers but he wears metal suit. He is weak without metal suit. Human friend tells Strong that if Strong smash, Strong will not find milk of human kindness. Strong angry, Strong want to smash, but Strong not smash.

Danse would never get out of his suit near Strong unless he absolutely had to. Sole insisted that the abomination wasn’t going to be a problem but he didn’t believe it for a second. It took all of his willpower to not open fire on the thing whenever he saw it. Sole has poor taste in companions...

X6:

X6 wouldn’t care. He would consider taking this opportunity to get rid of the high ranking Brotherhood soldier, but it would make Sole upset and would do relatively little to the Brotherhood as a whole. 

Ask and ye shall recieve! I decide the winner on Hancock’s one by their special stats. How the hell does Hancock have such good stats and he’s still terrible in a fight??

[superbabetotherescue]

Thanks, Brucie-Bruce Wayne x Reader

Word Count: 1840

Summary: You reminisce on your childhood with your best friend

Warnings: some violence, none really described in detail except reader getting punched in the face (as an alternative to getting teeth pulled), do teeth need their own warning bc they might, probably swearing but idk, kinda sad but don’t worry it’s fluffy, Bruce is a lil bitch but isn’t that kinda par for the course?

A/N: Once again this is just an old oneshot I have that I like a weird amount for no reason. You can read it as platonic or romantic it’s up to you idk but I’m lowkey thinking of making it into a series as platonic best friends so idk. I mean you’re reading it if you want it to be romantic that’s fine lmao I don’t care

Growing up one of Gotham’s elite may be a charmed life, but that didn’t mean that it was without its faults. You had spent your time being ignored by your parents, and your best friend, Bruce Wayne, became an orphan during a back alley robbery when the two of you were kids.

Or at least, former best friend.

In truth, you hadn’t seen Bruce in a while.

Well, you saw him constantly on the news and in the papers and just existing in Gotham in general, but you never got to see him face to face anymore.

Not for lack of trying, either. You sat down one night, the fifth time that Bruce had blown you off to meet for dinner in the past month, and pulled out your old photo album.

There was your fifth birthday party, a year or two after you had met Bruce in mega rich kid preschool, and there the two of you were, sharing a chair and staring at your huge birthday cake.

And the next picture, your favorite, the two of you covered in said birthday cake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Brucie,” You had cried,  whispering to him frantically, “Brucie, I got frosting on my dress!”

You were wearing a frilly pink dress that your mother had forced upon you, and in a moment of excitement you had leaned forward a little too far, and now the pale buttercream frosting covered your bodice.

“Uh oh,” Bruce breathed out slowly, adjusting his tie, pink to match your dress, and looking down at his own tiny three piece suit.

You were panicking, breathing heavily, “My mom is gonna be so mad!”

With a quick tug to your pigtails, Bruce shook his head, “I got this, Y/N.”

He reached forward and scooped a large chunk of the cake out, turning to you and smashing it against your chest quickly.

“Ah!” You jumped backwards, “Bruce!”

“Come on, hit me back,” Bruce hissed, grabbing another handful of cake and smushing it into your face.

As his plan dawned on you, you nodded, getting your own chunk of cake and throwing it at him, laughing delightedly as it landed in his hair.

“Bruce!” Mrs. Wayne scolded, running forward and crouching next to her son, who was currently trying to wrestle you, “You’re such a mess. Ms. Y/L/N, I’m so sorry for my son’s behavior!”

Your mother merely shook her head, smiling pleasantly, “Oh please, don’t worry about it, Martha. Those two are always getting into trouble.”

Victory!

You leaned over to your best friend with a wide grin, wrapping him in a tight hug, “Thanks, Brucie!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flipping a few pages, you chuckled at what you saw.

Your face and Bruce’s fist matching in bloodiness, and a huge gap where your teeth were missing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were twelve years old, and you had five loose teeth. Your last five baby teeth. All in a row next to each other.

And, like most twelve year olds, you had a healthy fear of the dentist.

“They want me to go to the dentist tomorrow to get the teeth pulled!” You complained to Bruce, the two of you laying in his living room under the guise of studying.

He shrugged, “You just have to get them out before the dentist, right? Just keep wiggling.”

“I’ve been wiggling!” You sat up, shaking your head, “It’s not working. I need a new approach.  Maybe Alfred can make something sticky for me to eat and the teeth will get stuck in it. Like that toffee your-”

You froze, not looking at Bruce anymore.

His hand touched yours gently, and you turned to see a small, sad smile on his face, “Like the toffee my father used to make at Christmas? That would be good. But Alfred’s working on something, I think.”

Nodding, you hmm’d quietly to yourself for a moment, “I just don’t know what to do. I can’t let the dentist pull my teeth. I just can’t do it, Brucie.”

“Don’t call me Brucie,” He scowled, but you knew he didn’t really care.

You sat in comfortable silence for a while, pushing your teeth back and forth with your tongue as the two of you thought.

“I have an idea,” Bruce stood, extending his hand out to you, “But it’s a little unorthodox.”

If he hadn’t been offering to help you, you would’ve rolled your eyes at the way he spoke.

You rose next to him, nodding, “Anything! Anything that keeps me out of the dentist’s chair.”

He took a breath, deep, slow, thoughtful. His hand reached out towards your face, thumb stroking your lips, palm cupping your jaw and cheek.

What was he doing?

And then he reared his fist back, and punched you in the face.

It hurt, that was for certain, but it was well concentrated in one place, and you coughed as you choked on the teeth, spitting them into your hand.

“There’s only four,” You frowned, counting them quickly.

“Sorry about that, Y/N,” He held his fist back out, and you saw the fifth tooth embedded in his knuckle, “You can have it back.”

With a chuckle you plucked the tooth out and pulled him into a hug, “Thanks, Brucie!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alfred had a field day with that one, you remembered, but it was still better than going to the dentist.

With a few more flicks of pages, you felt your heart catch in your throat.

Prom night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5:30.

Your date was supposed to come meet you at Wayne Manor at 5:30 so that you could go out with Bruce and his pretty blonde arm candy.

And now it was 6:45, and he still wasn’t there.

You’d been pacing the parlor of the Manor for two hours. Bruce and his date kept disappearing to make out in various rooms, and Alfred had stopped standing at the front door and had instead begun to busy himself in the kitchen.

And you were crying.

“Shit,” You hissed, wiping a tiny smear of eyeliner out from under your eye.

You weren’t going to cry over him. Especially not after you’d spent three hours on your makeup. You couldn’t do it.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just leave her,” You heard The Blonde complain to Bruce in the next room over, “She’s totally bringing down the mood.”

“Hey, back off,” Bruce sighed, “She’s my best friend. I’m not leaving her all alone on prom night. Maybe she can just come out with us.“

“I’m not spending my prom night with some loser who got stood up by her own date.”

You bit your lip, swallowing back a sob and then speaking loudly enough for them to know they were meant to hear you, “Hey, Bruce? I think I’m just gonna go, okay? Sorry for holding you guys up.”

“Wait,” Bruce opened the door to the closet he and his date were in, running a hand through his hair, “Y/N, don’t go.”

The Blonde gasped indignantly, and you shook your head, “No, seriously Bruce, don’t worry about it. I’m just-”

“Don’t leave, Y/N,” He said again, and the solidness of his words, the complete authority in how he said it, was enough to freeze you, “I’m taking you to prom. You can’t leave me.”

What?

“What?” The Blonde shrieked, stomping her heel on the ground, “You’re not taking her, you’re taking me!”

Bruce gave her a rather pleasant smile, “Actually, I’m not. I think you’re a stone cold bitch and if I look at you for any longer than fifteen more seconds, I think I’ll vomit. Now get out of my house,” And with that, waving a dismissive hand at her, he turned to you and grinned, “Now, Miss Y/N Y/L/N, would you do me the honor of being my date to prom?”

A burst of energy running through you, you sprang forward and wrapped him up in a hug, “Absolutely. Thanks, Brucie.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Closing your photo album, you sighed.

It felt like just yesterday in so many ways, and yet a million years ago.

What had happened between you two? What had you done to drive him away? Maybe a walk would clear your head.

You grabbed your keys and left, walking the streets of Gotham and thinking of your younger days.

There was a playground where you and Bruce would sometimes sneak off to play, halfway between both of your houses. It was where you had taught him how to throw a punch when you were six, where he had taught you how to cartwheel when you were eight, and where you two had shared your first kiss when you were ten.

You laughed at that memory too, wishing you had a picture in your album of that day, when the two of you had decided to be each other’s first kiss just so you’d know what you were getting yourselves into.

You’d sat on top of the monkey bars, staring into each other’s eyes as you came to your solemn decision, and leaned forward to give each other the briefest of pecks on the lips. And then you’d both fallen off the monkey bars, wiping your mouths and gagging dramatically.

Standing by those monkey bars, you ran your hands down the side with a smile.

And then you felt the cold barrel of a gun press into the back of your neck.

“Give me all your money, and get on your knees,” A dark voice growled.

Crap.

How could you let yourself be taken completely by surprise, in Gotham of all places?

Shaking, you tried to speak, your voice catching in your throat, “I… I don’t…”

“Hey!” A familiar voice sounded through the air, cutting you off, “Back off!”

You felt the  rounded metal leave your skin and let out a sigh of relief.

Spinning on your heel, you watched as your attacker, a large man with a ski mask pulled over his face, so cliche, got the crap beaten out of him by…

“Batman?” You gasped.

Of course!

Batman wrapped an arm around you, scoffing at the thug on the ground, and shot a grappling hook into the air.

As you felt yourself fly your head spun, trying to wrap your mind around everything.

So this was why he kept standing you up. Why he always came up with some flimsy excuse. He couldn’t just tell you he was the Batman, and besides, the mystery of it all was surely an ego thing for him.

You landed outside your house a moment later, the dark suit encompassing Batman just intimidating enough for you to almost take a step back as he rumbled, “You should be more careful. Especially at night.”

But you couldn’t take his warning seriously.

Your best friend wasn’t avoiding you, he didn’t hate you, he just had a secret!

You were too ecstatic to pay his advice any mind.

And so you simply wrapped him in a hug, your arms erupting into goosebumps against the cold armor that he wore, “Thanks, Brucie.”

[whumpmatsus]

aaaa are you still taking the sickfic requests?? maybe "don't speak" with choro as the sickie pls?

SickFic Prompts / ACCEPTING!

Don’t Speak - (character) has a horribly sore throat and is reduced to barely talking while they load up on hot drinks and soup to recover.

yesssss always!!! I had so much fun with this, it hit me right in the Honey Nut Feelios and I hope it does the same for u, sunshine 😩

-

After still feeling like total crap for several days while his brothers were almost completely recovered from the cold they’d all caught, Choromatsu finally breaks down and goes to the doctor.

He doesn’t really want to. Being sick is something they all hate, and continuing to suffer after everyone else felt better is just astronomically unfair. Sometimes he thinks he can will himself back to health if only he sleeps and takes medicine and does everything a sick person is supposed to do.

The others prod at him to get checked out, though, considering the fact that lately every time he’s tried to speak, it’s set off a cough and is painful even to those just listening.

When he comes back home with a pharmacy bag and an informational sheet proclaiming that he’s been diagnosed with laryngitis, it explains a lot.

He has little choice but to hand the sheet over to Osomatsu as Karamatsu comes over to help remove his scarf and coat and walk him over to the kotatsu. The eldest of them doesn’t necessarily know best all the time, but usually when one of them is sick or hurt with more than a cold or a tiny scrape, Osomatsu often slides into big brother mode and shows a surprising amount of maturity.

For once, Choromatsu is actually glad his oldest brother is taking charge of the situation.

“Okaaaay, guys,” he calls as Choromatsu settles in at the table. “So this thing says Choromatsu has… acute laryngitis. The doctor thinks it’s because he had a cold, I guess, since it says ‘viral cause’. Huh.”

Everyone else is already seated around the kotatsu since it’s the middle of winter and freezing. Jyushimatsu’s arm shoots up right away. “Oh! What’s laryngitis? That’s a funny word. Are we gonna get it too?”

Choromatsu opens his mouth to try and explain, like usual. Instead, he manages to get out a weak, “Probably not,” before he starts to cough.

“Hey,” Osomatsu pouts as Karamatsu pats the third eldest on the back, “this thing says you’re not supposed to talk if you can help it, Fappymatsu. So, y’know… shut up.”

What he gets in return for his efforts is an unimpressed glare.

Osomatsu grins, running a finger under his nose before looking back at the information sheet. “Well, I’m not wrong! Okay, so… the cold was contagious, but it says the actual laryngitis isn’t. It’s just some kind of throat thing that happened because of the cold. So it might happen for the rest of us, but I doubt it since we’re all feeling better already. Choromatsu just has bad luck, I guess.”

Karamatsu hums in thought and continues to rub his brother’s back. “Hmph, we’re probably safe then. Which means we just have to focus on taking care of our dear brother. How do we do that?”

Choromatsu holds the bag from the pharmacy up, allowing Ichimatsu to snatch it and dump the contents out on the table. He points toward the things he picked up at the doctor’s recommendation ― over-the-counter painkillers, lozenges, a throat spray, and cough syrup. There’s other stuff mixed in too, like tissues and a jar of yuzu-cha and a magazine. Though he could have lived without everyone seeing that, it’s not a huge deal.

Osomatsu waves the paper before picking through everything on the table. “Well, it says they don’t have any kind of prescription to give him. No antibiotics since it’s viral. Looks like it says the cough medicines and painkillers might help. ‘Home remedies may also provide temporary relief’… like tea and soup, huh? So we should probably try to keep the bastard hydrated with warm stuff.”

Karamatsu gets to his feet, grabbing the jar of yuzu-cha on his way. “In that case, why don’t I go mix up some of this for you right now? After being out in the cold air, your throat could probably use something warm. Want me to add a little honey?”

Choromatsu nods eagerly, mouthing, “Yes, please.”

Karamatsu’s face brightens at being useful, and he gives an exaggerated pose before heading into the kitchen. “What a good patient! Your big brother will be back with something soothing before you know it!”

“Hold on,” Totty comments as he scoots the lozenges, spray, and syrup toward him, “did you get all this stuff to take for your throat?”

His eyes scan over the labels, then roll back in his head when he’s finished. “Ah, Choromatsu-nii-san! You can’t take all of these at the same time. See, look. They all say ‘do not use with other medications containing’ ― uh ― well ― w-well, I can’t pronounce the word, but it’s the same one! They must all contain this ingredient, so you can’t take them all in the same day.”

Ichimatsu makes a gesture for Totty to hand them over, then nods after reading them. “Yeah, he’s right. If you take all these in the same day, even if you use each one like the directions say, you’ll be basically overdosing on this shit. Your mouth’ll go numb. Be drooling all over the place and maybe having trouble breathing.”

All the medicine is plucked from his hands by Osomatsu. “Okay, so we’ll rotate ‘em, and I’ll take care of giving it to you whenever you need medicine. Y’know, so that fever doesn’t fry your brain and make you forget which one you’re taking for the day. Which one do you wanna use today?”

Choromatsu lets out a soft groan which only serves to irritate his throat further. He could seriously just kick his own ass for not checking that before he bought all of those. The only excuse he has is that he’s in a lot of pain and not thinking like he normally does. He points to the spray, thinking maybe it’ll feel kind of like sour spray candy; once it gets sprayed on, it melts and lingers for a minute, which might be a nice quality in a medicine for sore throats.

“Alright, open up.” Osomatsu tears off the plastic packaging. “Totty, Ichimatsu, did either of you see how many times I’m supposed to spray this?”

“Two sprays every two hours as needed. But it’s only supposed to stay for fifteen seconds, then he has to spit it out. He’s not supposed to swallow it or it might give him a stomachache. Totty, you wanna go get an empty cup for him to spit in and a glass of water to wash the taste out of his mouth afterwards?”

“What?? Why can’t you do it? Your legs aren’t broken!”

“Yeah, but I’m busy.”

“Are you kidding me? Doing what?!”

Ichimatsu shuffles himself closer to Choromatsu and puts an arm around his big brother. “I’m his emotional support Ichimatsu.”

Choromatsu chuckles a bit, though it turns into coughing pretty quickly.

“Oh, my God. Now you know why you’re not first in my brother rankings, right?” Totty grumbles, but gets up anyway. “Fiiiiine, I’ll be right back.”

The idea of an emotional support anything is nice, though, so Choromatsu leans into the contact, resting his head on Ichimatsu’s shoulder. As it is, the fourth eldest is almost like a cat, warm and cuddly when he feels like it.

His fever must be getting to him, because he could even swear he hears Ichimatsu purring.

-

The next three days in the Matsuno household are, predictably, a little wild.

Although Choromatsu sleeps on the couch in the other room so that his coughing doesn’t wake his brothers, it’s pretty much all for naught. At least one of them ends up missing him in the night and coming to camp out with him anyway; he just counts his lucky stars that when he needs them most, they show themselves to be pretty great brothers.

He also practically lives on soup and tea. Mom and the others try to switch it up a little, because otherwise eating and drinking the same things every day would drive him nuts. Plain miso and zosui were fine for the first day, but after he could breathe through his nose and smell things again, they started offering him other stuff.

Honestly, shogayu and negi-miso-yu have never tasted so good. Now that he can taste the yuzu-cha, too, and Karamatsu prepares some for him at least once in the afternoon, it’s like a small slice of heaven. He’s pretty sure Karamatsu can tell how grateful he is even without words, if the stupidly proud look on his older brother’s face whenever Choromatsu drinks it is any indication.

His throat still hurts like hell for a while. It’s difficult to speak, so Osomatsu, in his infinite wisdom, has relegated his brother to using a mini dry erase board and marker if he needs to say anything. That doesn’t mean Choromatsu doesn’t try to talk. He does his best not to if he doesn’t absolutely need to, however, since he wants to be rid of this thing more than anyone.

Thankfully, everyone is apparently using this as an excuse to treat him nicely. He gets to sit in front of the TV watching Nyaa-chan concerts almost nonstop, while nestling in against his emotional support Ichimatsu. Karamatsu in particular keeps checking every twenty minutes or so to see if there’s anything he can get for his little brother, and whatever Choromatsu asks for, he gets. Hell, at one point he’s craving ice cream, even though milky things aren’t a good idea for someone who’s coughing, and Karamatsu comes back with a melon ice pop, which is almost as good.

Totty even manages to do something nice while typing away on his phone. He says he’s got Choromatsu a date. With a girl. Who likes pop idols. Who’s really excited to meet him as soon as he’s better. He says he texted her a picture of Choromatsu and she thinks he’s really cute. It’s perhaps a good thing that he can’t say much right now, because he’s sure he’d scream loud enough to lose his voice a second time.

Jyushimatsu even sits there on Choromatsu’s other side, and reads magazine articles to him whenever they’re not watching TV. Of course, he doesn’t read the dirty articles… well, he doesn’t read those out loud after the first time he tried and everybody ended up crying with laughter. They all joked that even when he was sick that would be Choromatsu’s main priority, and for once, he laughed along with them despite the fact that it made him cough.

The one who surprises him the most is Osomatsu. Maybe that shouldn’t actually be a surprise, though. He fills the role of diligent oldest brother with a lot more ease than one might expect; he breaks out the thermometer every few hours to make sure Choromatsu’s fever isn’t getting higher, he keeps track of which medicines Choromatsu is supposed to take and when, he helps Mom cook things that will help Choromatsu feel better, and if he’s not doing any of that other stuff, he’s positioned with Choromatsu sitting on his lap, with Ichimatsu and Jyushimatsu on either side, running his fingers through his little brother’s hair. It almost feels like the way things were when they were all kids.

Choromatsu is easily tired out when he’s sick, and he’s 99.99999% sure that it’s Osomatsu who carries him to bed every night when he inevitably falls asleep.

Despite the fact that he gives them a lot of shit, and none of them are perfect people, he knows he’s got some pretty amazing brothers.

Today he’s feeling nearly back to his old self, and his throat is less sore than it’s been in over a week. He knows it’s partially thanks to rest and partially thanks to how well his family has been taking care of him. Despite that he’s starting to recover, the others are still treating him much the same as they have been. Tea whenever he wants it ― as well as Karamatsu shoving it in his direction, urging him to drink with that pathetic puppy dog face of his, even when he doesn’t quite want it ― and lots of head pats and the TV turned to whatever he’s in the mood for.

He’s not quite as tired as he’s been lately, so it would be all too effortless to just take advantage of all this. Instead, his thoughts have just kept turning to how grateful he is to have so many people he can count on.

There’s some small part of him that has to admit he can be just as bad as they all are sometimes. He can be selfish and rude and lazy. But when one of his brothers is sick or hurt, he knows he steps up to the plate to try and take care of them. To know that they’re all willing to do the same for him when he’s the one in need makes him happier than he thinks he’s been in a long time.

He’s still got the dumb little whiteboard Osomatsu gave him, because his voice isn’t back to normal just yet. For a moment, he scribbles on it, then he holds it up for Osomatsu who’s sitting behind him. “Hey, Oso,” he speaks up in a quiet, breathy, raspy voice.

“Uh…! Hey, dumbass, you’re not supposed to be talking yet,” Osomatsu laughs, then lifts his head to look at the board. “… Huh? Choromatsu… hey…”

He laughs in a way that makes it sound like he’s about to cry, then takes the board and waves it to get everyone else’s attention. “Hey, guys! Haha… look! Look at this shit!”

Four other pairs of eyes turn in their direction. Practically as soon as everyone has processed what Choromatsu has written, he’s buried in a pile of brothers. He gets arms put around him, and kisses on his forehead, and everyone nuzzling against his face. They’re all laughing in that same way Osomatsu did…

… Well, until they all start actually crying. Including Choromatsu himself.

The whiteboard falls to the ground, mostly forgotten, but the words written on it hanging over the sextuplets like a rainbow.

Thanks for everything. I love you guys. 💚

[collecting-stories]

Charismatic - JJ Maybank

Request: hi, can I request a jj blurb with the prompt #1: “There’s so many people looking.” - “Well, they don’t have to look if they don’t like it, do they?” Thank you!

A/N: This is the fic that broke my writer’s block. 

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

JJ was in the midst of a hilarious story. Or at least everyone in the room seemed engaged enough that it felt like it must be some kind of epic recounting on his part. He was smiling talking, fast, hands moving, and everyone seemed to have stopped what they were doing to pay attention to him. The nice thing about fall was that parties downsized to John B’s house or some other place on the Cut and generally, you could name every face. Most of them went to school with you.  

Most of them had helpless crushes on JJ. And who could blame them. He was gorgeous and sweet in that way that made you feel important when he was talking to you. As if some good fortune had smiled down on you just because JJ was giving you his undivided attention for .3 seconds. Maybe it was a kinda pathetic but you felt for them. You had been them until roughly six months ago when something greater than fortune shined on you and all the years spent being friends with JJ had turned into something more.  

“What’s happening right now?” John B teased, grabbing a beer out of his fridge and popping the top.  

You were sitting on the counter right beside the open door, goosebumps prickling your skin at the feeling of the cold refrigerated air hitting your legs. It was a little too cold for shorts but you had decided to wear them anyway. The hoodie you were sporting clearly did nothing for you, at least the shorts made your legs look good. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that,” John B waved his hand toward the living room area of the Chateau where JJ was talking. Some girl to his left, was her name Anna, you took calc with her, laid her hand on his arm and leaned in close to him.  

“The cleavage shot.” You replied, “It is Anna, she always goes for the cleavage.” You watched her angle just so and JJ’s eyes lingered for a split second before he was looking away, passed his listeners, to you. His eyes met yours and you bit your bottom lip to stop from laughing at him, expression like a puppy that knew he was in trouble though you could honestly care less.  

When he wasn’t with anyone he liked to fool around, you knew that well enough from all your years as friend and confidant, but you also knew that JJ was always loyal, sometimes to a fault. In six months, you had never even considered the possibility of cheating. It never crossed your mind, you never worried about it.  

“It’s disturbing you know these things.” John B replied, watching the group again.  

You shrugged, “you know how much crap I used to pull just to get JJ’s attention? I broke my arm on a skateboard for him.”

“Was it worth it?”

“Oh yeah, the sex is amazing.” You replied, laughing when John half spit out his beer before shoving your leg.  

“God, don’t tell me that.” He groaned.  

“You asked,” You watched JJ get up, heading over to the two of you while someone turned up or restarted the music, you couldn’t be sure. “Hey tell me,” you said as he grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, “does the JJ stand for Jim Jones, cause you’re some kind of cult leader, I swear.”

“You’re hilarious.” JJ muttered, popping the top off his beer and kicking back half of it in a single go.  

John B sent you a concerned look, glancing out over the rest of the small pogue gathering, searching for Sarah, “I’ll catch you later.”

You nodded, turning your attention back to JJ. When he tried to move passed you extended your leg, socked foot just barely touching the island as you barricaded him.  

“Move.”

“No,” you laughed, dropping that leg and extending your other when he tried to turn around. When he turned again you did the same thing only this time, he pushed your leg down and you gripped the countertop to keep yourself from falling over at the sudden jerk of your leg. “What the fuck JJ!”  

“I told you to move.”  

“I was just teasing you, god,” you muttered, hoping down off the counter.  

“Yeah well, you aren’t funny!”  

JJ had never been accused of being patient in his life and you knew how short his fuse could be but when he got angry it was usually because there was something to be angry about. He wasn’t one to be too irrational or get mad out of nowhere though there were times when he perceived something that wasn’t true and flipped out over it. You usually let him calm down before you talked it out, never one to like being yelled at, but tonight you were annoyed.  

He had been fine five minutes ago, laughing with everyone and now he was going to act like a jerk to you for no apparent reason. You were not in the mood. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” You tried to keep your voice down so no one would notice the two of you arguing on the other side of the island but that was futile, Anna from calc was already casting glances your way and she motioned to her friends to pay attention too. It was like she was waiting for something, like she’d foreseen it and it was all happening according to plan.  

“Wrong with me?” JJ downed the rest of his beer, tossing the bottle in the trash. It clashed against others and you jumped from the sudden noise. “At least wait till I’m out of the fucking room before you start flirting with my friends!”  

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t flirting with John B.”  

“I saw you!”

“I’m allowed to talk to whoever the hell I want, John B included!” Out of the corner of your eye you could see more people paying attention. You could imagine the residual effects of fighting like this in front of everyone. The gossips in the pogue circles were worse than the kooks. Were you and JJ breaking up? Had you been cheating with John B? And then it would morph into different stories, that you were cheating, that you were stringing JJ along. “Can we talk about this somewhere else? Please, there are so many people looking.”  

“Well they don’t have to look if they don’t like it, do they?”  

“Please can we just talk in the bedroom?” You could hear yourself practically begging him to have this conversation anywhere else. The crowd and the music and the atmosphere of the party were definitely fueling him.  

“I’m sure you’d love that.”

“I’m not cheating on you!” You shouted, catching him off guard. You’d had your fair share of arguments, some of them pointless and silly, some more serious, but you were always level-headed. You talked things out first, you never shouted or raised your voice or even engaged when he was angry. You waited until he was ready to talk or you were ready to talk and then the issue was resolved. Seeing you yell like that, hand hitting the countertop, shocked him.  

You pushed passed JJ and ran down the hall into Big John’s office, slamming the door shut and sitting against it on the ground, the music a faint murmur now. You couldn’t tell if you were just crying or hyperventilating but either way that tightness in your chest settled in as you tried to breathe. Everyone had been in the room, you had seen Kiara, Sarah, Pope, and John B in the back, toward the door, a sea away from you. If anyone came it wouldn’t be John B, he wasn’t stupid enough to check on you directly after JJ had accused you of flirting or cheating or whatever with him. And you ruled JJ out pretty quickly too. Maybe Pope then, or Sarah, you were closest to both of them.  

Someone knocked, “can we talk?” JJ’s voice came through the door and you reached up, holding the door knob so he couldn’t push it open.  

You weren’t sure if you wanted to talk to him. You hadn’t even thought of him as being the first person to check on you let alone thought about whether or not you would want him to check on you. Maybe you did, maybe you wanted to know why he thought that you were flirting with your best friend right in front of him.  

“Hold on,” you started to get your bearings, letting go of the door knob and moving so you could stand up. JJ, in his overzealousness, swinging the door opening and banging into you. “Ow, fuck JJ, god.”

“Why are you on the floor?”

“Oh sorry I fucking hit you with the door, let me help you up.” You mocked, getting up and crossing your arms in front of you.  

“Sorry,” JJ apologized, though a little irritable.  

“What?”

“Don’t day what like that, I came to apologize.” He insisted.  

“No, you came in so you could bullshit an apology and get back to the party.” You replied. “I should’ve known.”

“You’re being a-“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” You snapped. “I don’t need to hang on you like your precious flock, god, I’m allowed to just sit and chill with my friends.  I don’t know what you expect JJ…do you want me to be jealous? I’m not. I’m sorry if you think I would ever cheat on you or flirt with some other guy cause I wouldn’t. And I would never think that you would either, so I don’t give two shits if Anna from calc wants to hang all over you because until like ten minutes ago I was pretty secure in the knowledge that we were going home together at the end of the night.”  

JJ stood there, not saying anything for a moment, the sound of the music seeping in beneath the door. You wondered if everyone else had resumed partying, if your friends were all waiting at the end of the hall with baited breath to see what might happen next.  

“I like you so much. I did the dumbest shit just to get your attention. John B is my friend, end of, I don’t care about him the way I care about you…I don’t care about anyone the way I care about you.”  

“I just…” JJ paused, running a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends a little as if that would help calm him down, “I don’t know, I just looked over and you guys were talking and whatever, yeah, talk to whoever you want but lately it just feels like everything is about him and I don’t know…I don’t give a shit about anyone else, I just wanted your attention.”  

You sat down on the edge of Big John’s desk, “we’re really something huh?”  

“Yeah,” JJ sighed, leaving the door he’d been standing in front of and coming over to you, stepping between your legs and letting you wrap your arms around his, holding you against him.  

“You always have my attention J, you don’t have to do anything special.” You said, face pressed against his shirt.  

“Sorry, for real this time, I shouldn’t have freaked out on you.”  

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have.” You looked up at him, biting your lip, “you can make it up to me though.”  

“Oh yeah, how’s that?”  

“The couch is pretty comfortable in here.” You laughed when JJ scooped you up off the table, hands beneath your thighs. He never had to be told twice.  

-

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[tuiccim]

The Partner Trap

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader     Word Count: 1438

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, sass

Prompt 31. Pranksters trap Person A and Person B together.

Summary: You and Bucky have an abrasive relationship at best until your teammates decide to trap you together.

A/N: This is for @adorkably​ 100 followers writing challenge! Congratulations, Angelcake! ILYSM!

Tony had bought out the entire fair for Stark Industries and the Avengers. The fairgrounds was alight with music, laughter, and squeals of delight. The Avengers team laughed as Bucky and Clint competed at water guns. Clint proudly carried his prize around and needled Bucky as much as possible. You and Natasha danced around to the band playing. Steve told stories about Coney Island. Sam dragged everyone to the wildest rides. The entire team had a blast as you went from ride to ride together. 

The only sour note was the bickering between you and Bucky. Today, it had started when the two of you were forced to sit together on one of the rides and Bucky purposefully took the seat you wanted. It got to the point that Tony threatened to duct tape both your mouth's shut. Natasha and Clint were sent in to separate the two of you. 

As the day was coming to a close Nat dragged you to the Mirror Maze. The two of you giggle as you got lost and confused by the maze. You hear someone coming around the corner and turn with a grin expecting Natasha. However, you run into Bucky.

"Ow." You say as you slam into his broad chest. 

"Such a whiner." Bucky grouses.

"Such a jerk." You brush past him.

Suddenly, the lights in the maze turn out and you hear doors slamming. 

"What the fuck?" You say.

"Hey, you two still in the Mirror Maze." Tony's voice comes over the loud speaker. "You didn't make it out in time, so now you get to stay here until tomorrow morning. Why don't you figure out why the hell you have such a problem with each other. Good night, losers." Half the lights come back on as Tony finishes.

"Tony!" You yell. 

"I'm gonna kill you, Tony. Clint, too!" Bucky yells. 

"Why Clint?" You ask.

"He's the one that drug me in here." Bucky says.

"Nat made me come in. Those three assholes planned this." You look around at the predicament you find yourself in. Stuck in a disorienting maze with the biggest jerk on the team. "Payback's a bitch!" You yell.

"They're gone. Why are you still yelling?" Bucky snarks. 

"Because I fucking want to!" You shout.

"Why are you so annoying?" Bucky yells.

"Why are you such a jerk?" You holler back. 

"Whatever." Bucky walks away from you. 

"Yeah, go! Go find a way out." You say.

"If I do, I'm not bringing you." Bucky throws over his shoulder.

"Ditto, asshat." You wander through the maze and make your way back to the beginning. There's no way out you can find and the doors are padlocked from the outside. Turning back, you wander until you get to the end where you find Bucky. 

"It's padlocked from the outside." He says.

"Same at the front." You say, deciding to try to be civil. 

"I could try to punch through it. Metal doesn't seem too thick."

"Oh, yeah, that'll work. I mean we'll be cut to ribbons as the mirrors around us shatter, but go for it." You snark.

"Well, what do you suggest, princess?"

"Don't call me princess, geezer." You lean on one of the mirrors and cross your arms.

"You're the one that started the name calling."

"I believe you called me whiner first." You shoot back.

"Not what I meant, genius." Bucky throws out. 

"Oh my God! When are you going to get over that! I called you Mister instead of Sargeant when I met you. It was a slip of the tongue! I wasn't calling you a name." You exclaim.

"It was disrespectful." Bucky growls as he stares into you. 

"So was refusing to shake my hand." You spit.

"Well, after the looney bin comment you really expected me to?" Bucky comes toe to toe with you. 

"Is that what made you so mad?" You say in disbelief. "I didn't know you had such great love for Senator Nichols. I'm so sorry I offended you." You roll your eyes. Being a supporter of the senator gave you another reason to dislike Barnes. Senator Nichols was an egomaniac with delusions of grandeur. 

"What are you talking about?" Bucky looks at you and you see some of his snark melt into real confusion.

"Senator Nichols. I said he needed to be in the looney bin, not joining us for a party. That's why you hate me so much? Because I made a stupid comment about a senator I don't like?" You look at Bucky and watch his face move through an array of emotions. "Barnes?" You try to snap him out of his thoughts when the realization hits you and your mouth drops open. "You thought I was talking about you. You thought I meant you?"

"I, uh, yeah." Bucky says contritely.

"No wonder you hated me. I wouldn't be too keen on me either." You say, reining in a smile. 

“So, that comment really wasn’t about me?” Bucky asks. 

“I’d never met you. Why would I say something like that about you?” You ask incredulously. 

“Because I was a brainwashed Hydra assassin?” Bucky says.

“Well, I guess that’s true. Some asshat might make that comment because of that.”

“Why did you hate me so much then?” Bucky asks.

“Uh, let’s see. You refused to shake my hand, reprimanded me for calling you mister instead of sergeant, and proceeded to treat me with disdain every time I was anywhere near you. Didn't make you very likeable."

"Guilty. I, uh, I'm sorry." Bucky says while rubbing the back of his neck. 

"Thanks." You look at him for a second. "Want to start over?" He asks. 

"I don't know. I'm pretty good at hating you now. I mean I could do a dissertation on your faults." You grin at him. 

"Come on, Doll, give me a chance to prove I'm not a total jerk." Bucky holds out his hand.

You stare at it for a second before putting your hand in his and shaking. "Okay." You smile. 

Eventually, the two of you end up sitting across from each other and talking. A few hours go by as you talk, laugh, and learn about each other. You find Bucky sweet and funny. You can tell Bucky's opinion of you shifts as well. 

"You're shivering, Doll." Bucky notices.

"It's a little cold." You flash a smile.

"Come sit with me. I'll keep you warm." Bucky grins. You move next to him and cuddle into his side as he wraps an arm around you. "That's better, right?"

"Yeah, thanks." You look into Bucky's eyes. He stares at you and then his gaze drops down to your lips for just a second. You lift your chin and his lips brush against yours lightly. 

"Is this okay?" Bucky asks after he pulls back.

"No." You say and reach up to cup his jaw. "I want more." You smile as his lips descend on yours more firmly and his tongue finds its way into your mouth. 

Abruptly, the rest of the lights come up and Tony's voice comes over the speaker again. "Okay, you two, that's enough. Break it up. Time to go. You didn't really think I was going to keep you here all night?"

"Still gonna kill you, Tony!" You say as the exit door opens revealing a grinning Natasha and Clint.

"Hey guys. Have fun?" Clint laughs.

Bucky smiles at Clint and then takes off in a chase.

"Won't take Bucky long to catch Clint. Hopefully, he doesn't actually kill-OW!" Nat cuts off when you punch her in the arm. 

"Really? You lock us in together?" You seeth.

"Yeah. Did you finally figure out why he hates you?" Nat asks.

"Yeah. He overheard the looney bin comment I made at the party." 

"Oh, crap. Did you apologize?"

"For what? I was referring to Senator Nichols with that comment." You smirk.

"No, you weren't. You… you lied to Bucky?" Nat furrows her brow. 

"Better than grovelling." You shrug.

"You have to tell him the truth. Apologize." Nat says.

"No. We're in a good place now. He and I can finally be friends. And more." You grin devilishly. "And you won't tell him either."

"What's to stop me?" Nat says.

You simply raise an eyebrow at her. 

Nat's eyes widen, "Fine." She says as she stalks away. 

A few minutes later, Bucky reappears, "Clint will think twice before pulling a stunt like that again."

"So will Nat." You laugh. "Ready to head home and maybe we can continue our discussion there?"

Masterlist

"Sounds good, Doll." Bucky says as he wraps an arm around your waist.

Part 2?

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