Kiss It All Better
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader (established relationship)
Summary: Your boyfriend Peter hasn't contacted you in days, but one stormy night in a dark alley would change that.
Word Count: 1.9k
Warning(s): none really / fluff / sprinkles of angst / if you squint you could maybe see some hurt + comfort
requested by anonymous
a/n: Another bingo request down!! I promise I am doing my best to get through these. As always I appreciate everyone's patience and support!! ❤️ Thank you for reading!! Feedback is always appreciated!! ❤️❤️
birthday bingo masterlist ♡ // main masterlist ♡
A flash of white light illuminates the narrow alleyway you are walking through. A loud rumble follows, practically shaking the concrete beneath your feet. The storm would start any second now and you would most likely get caught in it if you didn’t make it home soon. Your pace quickens as you begin to make haste.
Getting caught in the rain would only worsen your mood.
Your footsteps echo and bounce off the alley walls. The wet concrete smell mingles with something sour making your nose scrunch up. You hold the strap of your bag tight against your chest, a small comfort in the night. The dark clouds in the sky hide the moon from your view, causing only a few street lights to vaguely cascade their glow onto your path. The shadows cling to the brick walls around you making your surroundings more ominous than they really were.
This was a bad idea. You know this—anyone would know this—it was common sense. You shouldn’t be walking down a New York alleyway alone at midnight. However, you had little to no choice with no cabs in sight and no rideshare vehicles available. You’d have to make the journey on foot if you wanted to make it home before the storm worsened.
Your apartment was only a few blocks away from your job, and you already had an established route you took back and forth. It was a longer route—more scenic—and on nicer days you enjoyed strolling along it accompanied by your favorite tunes. However, on nights like this when the sky decides to descend a tempest upon the earth—you prefer to take a risk with this shortcut.
A few droplets falling on your head turn into streaks and then a pour—catching you off guard. You didn’t think the ferocity of the water would pick up so quickly. You hurried over to take refuge underneath the slight coverage of the fire escapes lining the brick wall to your right. The cold metal frame above did little to shield you as droplets fell from it onto your head. Nevertheless, this would have to do until you could determine your next move.
You could run the rest of the way home and hope you didn’t slip in the rain—or you could give the rain a few minutes to die down and then run—the idea of waiting brought an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You dreaded having to be out here longer than you needed to be.
Would it really be safer to run though?
As much as you didn’t want to wait you decided it would be better than falling face-first into a grimy puddle. You shifted on your feet, the soles of your shoes squeaking against the pavement, your body shivering as the water soaked through your thin jacket. Each second seemingly stretches out endlessly as you watch the rain crash and splatter against the ground.
You took out your phone to check the weather app. Your hand resting perpendicular to your forehead as a makeshift shield to protect your phone from the rain. Droplets still fell on your phone anyway and with the way the water clung to your hair and eyelashes—your vision was more than obstructed.
So much so that you didn’t notice when a shadow loomed over you.
“Hey beautiful,” a voice directly next to your left spoke, startling you. A gasp left your lips as fast as your heart sped up. You jump back from the source of the voice, creating as much distance as you can without slipping into the full force of the storm. You turn to see who it belongs to, your phone tightly gripped in your hand.
When your eyes met the white ones on the red mask, your body immediately relaxed from its frozen state. A breath of relief escaping you that sounded more like a choked laugh.
“Baby, I swear I didn’t mean to scare you!” Peter sounded apologetic while laughing all the same at your reaction. He was hanging upside down by a thick string of web when he lowered down to be at eye level with you. Small streams of water cascade down his superhero suit, pooling at your feet.
You scoff still a little shaken, “You thought sneaking up on me wasn’t going to scare me?” You put your phone back in the pocket of your jacket, hand on your hip as you try to follow your boyfriend’s logic.
You can’t see Peter’s face, but you know him well enough to know the awkward boyish grin he must be dawning under that mask. “Well…I didn’t think it would scare you that much…” his tone was sheepish and yet just as you assumed, you could see the outline of his smile through the mask.
You look at him shaking your head, playfully rolling your eyes. Whatever annoyance you felt melted away at his presence. Your heart now beating at its normal rhythm. However, his presence also reminded you of his absence this week. Peter hadn’t contacted you in days, and while you were doing your best to be understanding, it still hurt.
“Nice of you to drop by. Haven’t spoken to you in like,” you count the days on your hand to emphasize the number,“five days. Seems you forgot all about me,” you cross your arms, a resentful look overtaking your features.
Peter scratches the back of his neck, stumbling over his words. He almost loses balance, his left hand quickly returning to where it was before, holding onto the web with both hands. You frown, unsure as to why he needs both hands to keep steady. Worry overcomes you when the thought of him being in a fight before he caught you here crosses your mind.
“About that. . . I’m really sorry, Y/n. I promise I didn’t mean to disappear like that without warning. The city’s been hectic all week! Criminals are popping up left and right and I’ve been tracking down this mobster ring—it’s been too much to handle. I couldn’t keep up. And I–” he stops himself to get a good look at you, “I’ve missed you so much,” Peter finishes off his remorseful rambling with a sincere statement.
He has missed you. More than you’ll ever know. He’s barely eaten, slept, or cared for himself. Neglecting his own needs to make sure the city was safe. Because to him as long as the city was safe so were you—and that meant the world to him. Yet, in keeping his attention on the city he lost sight of where he wanted to be the most—with you.
The sentiment was mutual. While the city needed Spiderman, you needed Peter.
Even though he does his best to hide it, you pick up the tiredness in his voice. The way even upside down you can see how his shoulders sag, his overall posture droopy. You notice the way he slowly sways where he hangs, not making much effort to stay in place. You assume he’s done little to take care of himself these past few days. That combined with potentially getting into some sort of tussle moments before arriving—it’s no wonder he struggled earlier to keep his balance with one arm.
Your gaze softens, stepping closer to him, the rain long forgotten. “ I get it, Peter. I do. I’ve missed you too. You know I’ll never hold being Spiderman against you, but you need to talk to me. Keep me in the loop. Let me know you're okay. I was upset you hadn’t contacted me, but more than anything I was worried. I was afraid something had happened to you,” you say your voice laced with concern. In his absence, you constantly checked news channels to make sure no one had reported Spiderman getting severely injured or worse.
You avoided all week thinking about the worst-case scenarios.
“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I promise never to do it again. I know I have to get better at communicating. I just don’t like worrying you. All week I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I was on my way to your place when I saw you here in the rain. You really shouldn’t be walking alone at this hour,” Peter’s tone goes from repentant to firm by the end. Hating the thought of you putting yourself in a risky situation.
You gave him a look as if to say now is not the time to be scolding me. He sighs, reluctantly conceding in hopes of bringing this conversation up at a later time. Right now he wants to do anything to make it up to you. Anything that could sweeten up his apology.
“I know I messed up, but I think I know something that could make this all better,” he says an idea popping into his head.
“What?”
“How about a kiss?”
You laugh softly at his suggestion, not being able to stay mad at him for long.“I think that could help. Although, I’ve never kissed someone while they were upside down before,” you mention with amusement. Tilting your head to look at him sideways. You wonder how he’s able to stay like that for so long without getting dizzy.
“Well now’s your chance, baby. I’ll need a little help with the mask though,” he says as you close the distance between you. You happily oblige his request, lowering the mask off of his face. A fond smile appears on your face when your eyes meet his brown ones. The warmth and color inviting you in like a hot cup of coffee—a solace you sought in the cold rain. They pull you in until your lips meet his, your hands holding his face gently.
You both melt into the kiss. Rain droplets joining in, but neither of you mind. In this moment it's solely you two and the feelings for one another catching up after days of longing. How either of you could have gone so long without this—without each other—neither of you knew.
Maybe five days isn’t long for others, but because Peter risks his life on a daily basis, every moment spent with him means the world to you.
You pull away to catch your breath, “I think that definitely helped,” you say softly. Peter beams at you, swinging his body so that in a swift motion he’s gone from his upside-down position to upright—standing before you. He reaches out and pulls you into a tight embrace. Holding you close and planting a tender kiss on your forehead.
“I’m so sorry, Y/n. I love you so much. I promise to fully make it up to you,” he says in a loving tone. You shake your head lightly, “Peter, having you here is enough. You really don’t have to–” he doesn’t let you finish. “Maybe I don’t have to, but I want to. Let’s get you home and into some dry clothes. I’m staying with you tonight. I want to hold you all night and in the morning I’ll make you breakfast in bed,” he proposes in soft whispers as his forehead rests against yours.
“You know I can’t say no to that.”
“Good. I wasn’t going to take no for an answer anyway.”
Your laughter mixes with his own at his playful tone. He holds you more securely against him as he prepares to take you both back to your apartment. You weren’t keen on swinging across the sky like he was—especially in this weather—but knowing you would soon be cuddled under warm covers with him would make it all worth it.
You would weather any storm for him, as he would for you—always.
168 notes
·
View notes
vanilla birthday cake — send some dialogue 4 a short drabble with rafe + any of my !readers
mean!rafe + crybaby!reader “i don’t wanna know”
HAKSJSKSJKS
MEAN!RAFE + CRYBABY!READER ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚
participate in my bday celebration!!!
rafe had had just about enough. he wasn’t very patient to begin with but he was trying to be better — for her.
his poor little girlfriend that had a never ending supply of sorrow and tears. normally, around him, she was content as could be. and he was happy to indulge her and be the one to soothe her when external factors hurt her sensitive heart.
but she just wouldn’t stop crying.
today, she had to have set a new record. whimpering away next to him while rafe tried to get some work done on his computer. she knew better than to interrupt him when he was working, but crybaby just needed some attention. some love.
what if he was all quiet ‘cause he realized how annoying she was? what if—
“okay, what’s a-matter?”
her watery eyes flickered up to his deep blue and thundering ones.
rafe stared at her impatienty — fingers poised as if about to start typing. but his eyes held a question in them. an intensity that makes crybaby shrink into herself, eyes shifting and babbling for an answer while her shaky hands played with the buttons on her shirt.
“wha—? oh, um, s’nothing…”
not a good liar, but even worse at holding eye contact. rafe huffed and closed the laptop abruptly. he spread his legs further, setting the device somewhere beside him. she could be so difficult sometimes.
“kid, you’re over there, sniffin’ and shit — what’s the problem?” his voice was gruff and low, but so familiar and comforting in its own way. running a hand over his buzzed head in a way that always sent her heart racing.
“well, uh, i— i jus’— um…” the stuttered words came out clumsily, not a coherent thought in her head as she stared wide eyed at him. tears began to well anew.
“okay, okay— shut up. i don’t wanna know anymore, jus’— c’mere.”
god, she looked dumb with that look on her face. all frozen and tense as he tries to coax her closer. like a deer and a hunter.
rafe tilts his head to the side, a small smirk settling on his lips. he sees the moment she relaxes; eyes still wet and lip still trembling but she’s scooting closer nonetheless.
he scoops crybaby into his lap, strong arms circling her and pulling her into his chest. rafe sighs like it’s hard work — but the concerned furrow of his brow says otherwise.
she’s still sniffing, nuzzling her face further and further into his chest as she straddles him. trying to disappear fully into his warmth and affection. it’s like just being in his arms sends her into a daze. it’s made worse by his hand pulling her chin up, forcing their eyes to meet.
“what’s wrong, baby?”
her rafe. that soft mumble only she’s privy to. his gentleness entirely reserved for her, for her moments of need. yet, she loves when he’s mean to her — in that dirty, knowing way he is. when her heart just feels so heavy and she doesn’t wanna think anymore. she craves that fuzziness only he can make her feel, a warmth pooling in her underwear. she needs it.
her voice is meek and barely audible when she huffs, “i jus’— today was so—”
rafe rolls his eyes, but tugs her closer. pressing firm kisses to her hairline and letting her ramble on about all the hard things she went through. she doesn’t register his wandering hands. it’s only when his fingertips are breaching her lace panties when she finally notices how he’s pushed her skirt up.
“hmf— rafey—”
her slickness makes a groan vibrate through his chest, fingers pressing forward until he’s prodding at that spongey spot just right. crybaby is hiccuping and sniffling again — eyes pitifully squeezed shut from the intrusion.
“shuddap, let daddy do this, yeah? getchu to stop whinin’ for once.”
based off this little thing i wrote!!!
223 notes
·
View notes
DRUNK WORDS, SOBER THOUGHTS.
— unexpected late night call.
summary : jason's always had a thing for his best friend's sibling. when they ask him to pick them up from a bar because roy would kill them, jason can't help but help a friend in need.
after coming home from patrol tonight, jason wasn't expecting a call from you, especially with your words sounding so slurred. it was unlike you, or at least what he knew about you.
"hey, jace, i've been drinking in your part of town. do you think you can come get me? roy would literally kill me if he knew i'd been drinking down here." those were your words, or, at least, what he could make out through your blurry voice and hiccups.
if jason were your brother, he would kill you himself, too. no blaming roy.
despite being the son of a billionaire, jason preferred to keep out the way, in his own little bubble. it was just a shame the only little bubble he could find was in the dark, dingy cauldron. not a safe place to get drunk in.
he could agree the bars were good, surprisingly. they sold good stuff. but the people couldn't be trusted; even as a man his size, he knew if he wanted to get trashed at a bar, it had to be at a club in bristol, or the safety of his own home.
it wasn't long before jason pulled up outside the bar he had to strain his ears to decipher, and made out your swaying figure lingering on the pavement outside. jesus...
he was quick to hop out his car and hurry to your side, looping a supportive arm around your upper back. your frame bubbled with a hiccup beneath him, and he patiently led your stumbling legs to the passenger's seat of his sedan.
"what are you doing drinking in the cauldron?" jason tried to conceal his sigh as he fell into the driver's seat beside you, and close the door behind him, quick to turn on the heating.
"birthday," you hummed in return, lids falling low over your eyes as you sunk into the warm seat, a nice contrast to both the sweaty pub and nippy air outside.
this time, jason was unable to hide his surprise, turning to you with raised eyebrows. "it's your birthday?" he should've known.
but his surprise quickly bubbled into embarrassment as you huffed out a laugh, shaking your head.
"no, doof," you snickered, peering over at him with your tired, hazy eyes. "friend's."
made sense. he swore it wasn't your birthday any time soon; but he mostly just did that to make himself feel better for jumping to conclusions.
jason's big, scarred hands took hold of the steering wheel, and his feet, still fitted in his heavy boots from patrol, moved to the pedals. with a vrum, the car began to move down the road, lined with drunkards.
a few beats of silence passed between you, and jason watched out the corner of his eye as you leaned forward to press at the stereo, one of his cd's humming to life.
soft shoegaze flowed through the speakers, something you immediately recognised as slowdive, despite your intoxication, and a chuckle brushed past your lips as you leaned back.
"didn't cast you as the slowdive type."
the driver beside you cleared his throat, and he momentarily took his eyes off the road to adjust the stereo, changing it from his cd rack to the radio. "i'm not," he responded sheepishly, although trying to push out a tone of toughness. "where to, then? i guess not to roy."
deciding not to push it, you turned out the window, small bemused smile upon your lips. "roy would kill me." your words were slow as you spoke, an effort to be more inteligible.
wincing as you spoke, you turned to jason with a soft grimace. "can we go back to yours?" a pang gave in your chest as you caught sight of jason's side-eye as the car passed an amber streetlight. now you've done it; gone and called him to pick you up, and then ask him to go back to his. some friend you are, putting him in this position. "i'll make it up to you."
who was jason to decline?
his jaw clenched, and you could hear him breath deeply. your own heart thudded in anticipation.
from beside you, jason let out a gravelly sigh. "fine."
with a dizzy grin, you leaned forward to spin the knob on the stereo, turning up the muffled music. something new on the charts you had yet to hear yet, so there was no use singing along.
soon, jason was pulling up outside his apartment block, and clicking off the music.
"how good are you walking, pipsqueak?" he asked as he pulled the keys from the ignition, and the car gave a grunt as the power left its body.
a scoffed brushed past your lips as your fingers limply grabbed for the door handle, attempting to lift your knees but only grunting. don't get too cocky now.
with a pair of scrunched-together eyebrows, you turned to jason, grumbling at that bemused smile on his stupid lips. you didn't have to speak to answer his question.
he chuckled, and his door clicked open as he pulled on the handle. you watched through the windshield as your brother's best friend grinned stupidly to himself to get to your side.
there would be an unspoken agreement between the two of you to never let roy know about this.
your saviour peeled open the passenger side door and held a hand out, and you noticed that his palm was wrapped in bandage that was beginning to seep a browny-red. best not to ask. chucking wryly, you took hold of his hand, and didn't have to make much of an effort to stand, as jason was strong enough to do so.
roy always went on about how strong he was, often walking into your bedroom in the apartment you shared (gotham rent is too high in the nice parts!) just to flex in your mirror, but when he brought jason round — his best friend — you could tell the immediate winner. jason todd, by a landslide.
shutting the door and locking the car behind you, jason wrapped an arm around your waist, expertly holding you up on your stumbling feet, and escorted you into the lobby of his apartment building. if he weren't trying to help your drunkness, the affection could have been mistaken for something more than friendly. but you were under the influence. he knew better.
it was a struggle getting you up the steps to his floor, but jason got you there eventually, setting you down on the couch, gaze lingering for a moment as you swayed.
hands on hips, jason spoke down to you, voice a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "you eat anything before going out? drink any water at all tonight?"
letting out a soft hiccup, you shook your head slowly, eyes closing to try to eliminate the harsh beginnings of a headache that had began to blossom in the back of your cranium.
in return, the tall man tutted, mouth pursing to the side. he stepped away from the sitting area, and you could hear the distant flush of a faucet coming to life, the muted sound of a glass being filled with water.
he was back, carefully handing you the almost-full glass as he lowered himself to perch on the ledge of the stout coffee table before the couch, hands hovering outside yours as your own grip wobbled with the weight of the cup. after sending him a look, he backed off. you could handle it. maybe.
"the couch okay for you?" jason hummed after a moment, corner of his mouth quirked up, watching you sip gingerly at the tasteless water, although the colour was beginning to return to your face, the blur in your eyes clearing. "or dare i ask if you want my bed?"
pulling the glass from your lips, you swallowed your mouthful before allowing yourself to chuckle and shake your head. "couch is fine." your voice was small, a little crackly and tired.
with another hum, jason stood, and pulled a folded blanket from the back of a bust-up armchair beside the sofa. he traded the blanket for your half-empty glass, and sat against the coffee table again.
unfolding the size of the blanket, watching it get larger and larger, you began to lean back against the plush sofa, prepared for slumber to take over. however, the breath hitched in your throat, and your movements stopped, as the sensation of rough fingertips grazed against your ankle.
when you looked down, vision still owning a blur, jason was helping you with your shoes, so you could put your feet on the couch without a worry.
once you were free, and jason had discarded your shoes by one leg of the coffee table, you tugged your feet beneath the blanket, and sunk down into the cushions. for such a guy jason was, you were surprised by how comfortable he'd made his living room.
head sinking into a plush pillow, you peered up at jason from beneath heavy eyelids. he'd perched his chin in his hand, watching you carefully, eyes and smile soft, black hair touselled.
"jason?" you hummed, and you could see the way his smile widened for a moment before falling neutral.
he leaned closer to you, ears aching to hear you through the slight slur of your tongue and the small volume.
"you know you've always been my favourite of roy's friends." and you couldn't help but chuckle tiredly, the soft laugh morphing into a yawn.
but jason didn't laugh in return, only watching as your eyes slowl fluttered shut. if only you knew that you've always been his favourite of roy's siblings. and he's only got one of those.
125 notes
·
View notes
UNTITLED LOVE SONG - SEUNGMIN
pairing - bf!seungmin ♥︎ fem!reader
genre: fluff, very little angst & comfort
word count: 0.6k
warnings: use of the word sexy 2x
A/N : Srry this is late… 😭 also..tiny little spoiler : I’m cooking up a fall series called “Fall : records of love.” that is half way finished. I didn’t want to announce it because I felt as if the pressure to finish it would keep me from doing it but tbh I should just announce it and get it over with. So hopefully that will start rolling out in October !! No promises :p
You hear the jingle of the door opening, seungmin stepping inside, much to your excitement.
You and seungmin had a karaoke date planned for his birthday. The idea of spending time with the man you love on his birthday made you overjoyed, especially since it had been literal days since you two had any personal time together. Now that he’s off work, you get to spend time with the man you love the most on his special day.
“You’re home!” You screech as you run over to him, arms quickly engulfing him in a tight hug. Seungmin knocks back slightly with an oof making you giggle as he hugs you back.
“Hey beautiful” he says, adoring the black dress you had put on while waiting for him. His pet name for you makes you flush red as you press your lips together.
The kiss doesn’t last that long, Seungmin pulling away to go take a shower and re-dress, much to your dismissal. As he gets ready you touch up your look, swiping the sticky solution of gloss along your lips and reapplying your mascara. You look in the mirror and smile in content, confident in the way you look.
It doesn’t take to long for him to come out, Seungmin dressed casually but clean and looking handsome and sexy as ever. (But to be fair, you always think he looks sexy) “You ready y/n?” he asks.
“Ready!”
— time skip —
The sound of the instrumentals bounce of the walls as Seungmin sings along. You’re in a trance as you listen to his voice, the melodic sound sending ripples through your body.
You’ve always loved when he sung. His voice brings you comfort in so many different ways. And don’t even start on the look on his face as he sings. The smile you adore beaming with passion makes you fuzzy inside.
“Your voice is so majestic, my love.” you say as he finishes the song. He grins sheepishly at you, placing the mic down and sitting besides you.
“Thank you baby, you spoil me.” He blushed. “All the time you spent with me today made my birthday so special.”
“Oh hush. It’s the least I could do for you babe.” You mumbled, sneaking your arm around his waist to pull him closer to you. “I wish I could spin more time with you.”
You look up at him as he says this, taking notice in the slight somber expression on his face. “My love, anytime spent with you is perfect to me. When we go out or when we cuddle. Everything is lovely.” You affirmed, staring into his eyes which were begining to twinkle with guilt.
“You don’t think you deserve someone better?” He whispers. To say you’re taken aback by his words is an understatement. You move your hand from his waist to his back, rubbing it gently.
“No.” You asserted. “You are the one for me. There is no one better. You mean the world to me ok?”
You feel him slightly relax in your hold, his own arm now resting on your waist. “I love you.” He says, looking at you again.
“I love you too. Karaoke time?” You smile, hoping to lighten the mood. He accepts your proposal, smiling as he grabs the microphone again.
As you two sing along, you realize exactly how much you missed him and how much you’re grateful he’s your partner. Reaffirming the words that were said not to long ago.
Yes, I love you too.
29 notes
·
View notes
Bed, Beignets, Birthdays, and Other B Things Sam Wilson Likes
Happy birthday, Cap! 🎉 // AO3 Link 🛏🥐🎂
Sam’s arm fell to the other side of the bed and landed on a warm chest instead of cool sheets. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before turning over and sneaking a glance at the man next to him. Scared, just for a moment, that this might slip away if he actually looked.
Bucky was already awake, but he was still sleep rumpled, impression lines crossing his face and chest, hair a mess. Sam wondered if he could convince him to cut it now. Surely he was more susceptible to the idea when it was all tangled in the morning. Then again, Sam figured if the whole ‘your secret identity will be harder to figure out if you cut off your trademark mane’ hadn’t worked, he didn’t think a few knots would either.
“You stayed,” he yawned and stretched his arms into Bucky’s space.
Bucky’s fingers fell across one of Sam’s hands, traced over the lines of his metacarpals lightly. “It’s your birthday,” he said simply. “Thought I should at least buy you breakfast. Give you a day off.”
Sam smiled at the idea. Not hunting down rogue bases and ghost stories was fine by him. It seemed like a lovely day outside. The seasons were actually turning here and there was a crispness he could feel even without opening the window. It made him press closer to Bucky’s chest, hiding his head under Bucky’s jaw. Bucky’s arms went around him, his left arm slow in caution and also because he was laying on it.
“Maybe I like chasing you down,” Sam suggested.
“You like pastries more,” Bucky pointed out. And that was true. Food in general, but breakfast desserts were a favorite. And they were in Paris of all places. Sam really could not envision a better day.
“You got any other plans for the day?” Sam asked. “Or are you gonna disappear as soon as I turn my back on you outside?”
“I don’t plan on letting you outside,” Bucky admitted. “My plans involved getting you in the shower and then back in this bed. Everything else can be ordered in.”
Sam hummed. That did sound like a really good plan. “Can I open the window?”
“We’re on a fourth floor, so I don’t think that many people will be able to hear you. Go for it.”
Sam lifted his head enough to watch Bucky’s face until it broke into a grin. “Oh, that kind of day in bed, huh?” he asked.
Bucky’s fingers moved up Sam’s back. “That kind of day in bed,” he agreed and turned onto his back, pulling Sam over him as he went. His fingers went back to tracing Sam’s spine and Sam tried not to shiver with it. He didn’t succeed.
“If you were gonna ask for something today, what would it be?” Bucky asked.
Sam raised an eyebrow and took his own turn to brush his fingers over Bucky’s chest–the line of hair traveling down his pecs, a birthmark against his ribs, a scar under his collarbone, which Sam weirdly had a matching one to. They’d both gotten them when they were kids, lifetimes before they knew each other or had any shared life experience. Except, Sam supposed, falling out of a tree and hitting every branch on the way down.
“Use pet names today,” he decided. “Don’t call me Wilson.”
“What about–”
“Sam and all your terrible variations are fine,” Sam added.
Bucky grinned up at him. “Alright, doll,” he agreed. “That one’s easy enough to give you.” He sat up so they were shoulder to shoulder, chest to chest, hip to hip. It made Sam light-headed and he tilted forward to catch Bucky’s mouth on his and also steady himself.
Bucky kissed like he thought it was the last thing he was going to do. Sam refused to consider the legitimacy of that fear. Bucky was intense and excited. Sometimes it felt like running into a brick wall and sometimes he opened up like an endless expanse of soft lips and searching hands. Sometimes the brick wall came down between them, and then tilted forward for extra kisses, with a hand on Sam’s chest, pushing him back.
“Wait, wait,” Bucky panted and then took another three kisses. “Shower first,” he encouraged. “I have a plan for today.”
“What about food?” Sam asked.
Bucky grinned at him and it made Sam’s stomach turn over in the most desirable way. “Well, I’m gonna eat,” he said oh-so innocently. “But I don’t know how long it’s gonna take, so I figured we could order in later.”
Sam was nodding before Bucky even finished talking. “Yeah, alright,” he agreed, pulling Bucky into another kiss.
He was expecting it when Bucky stood and lifted him in the same motion, but it still made him go light headed all over again. He kind of loved it when Bucky did that. It made him feel young and spontaneous and it was so damn hot.
“Happy birthday, baby,” Bucky breathed against Sam’s chest, where he seemed to be trying to kiss his way to Sam’s heart.
“Yeah,” Sam agreed dazedly. “And here’s to many more.”
“Well you’ve still got to get through this one,” Bucky teased.
Sam shivered and curled his arms around the back of Bucky’s neck. He kind of thought this wouldn’t be such a bad way to go. But he was fully planning on doing this again next year.
Read the rest on AO3
19 notes
·
View notes
is . ummmm is this allowed?
HTHY9RE9YG5RGRERI! GREUHGO0+?? GHUHGEHRGSHGPHER!! WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HELLO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ANYONE ELESE SEEING THIS SHIT!!!!!!!!! HOLY FUCKING HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1HEHERG´```????!!
6 notes
·
View notes
visibly clenching my jaw and shaking with rage. why are all the newer barbie movies trash.
14 notes
·
View notes
ive told doctors and therapists n psychiatrists that ive never had a plan/attempted suicide so many times that i forgot i actually have . tricked my dang self
6 notes
·
View notes
They say to never trust how you feel about your life after 9PM but it's always before 9PM somewhere. Anyway I think I might be a therian
4 notes
·
View notes
wheres the "why is it so saaaad" image with the cat with big sopping watering eyes ouauauuugh how I feel is the embodiment of that
2 notes
·
View notes
phone calls laced with memories of what will never be
2 notes
·
View notes
spent the whole day in bed on my phone someone please assassinate me
9 notes
·
View notes
I think the strongest direct Ryuji parallel is just that RGGJo is also a There Can Only Be One Dragon-type bitch. But I honestly don't think it chafes him for the same reasons as Ryuji lol, because there's also the element of Ichi "copying" his design and "doing it better" (in a meta sense, on account of Horitomo handling his tattoo but not RGGJo's.) It's a fun callback and good set-dressing for what amounts to two sons squabbling for their dad's approval.
It's kind of fun to think about for real though, because in Ryuji's RGGO story, the Arakawa Family are tasked with assassinating Ryuji. And Jo's all ready to go but Arakawa makes the crucial decision to assign Ichi to the job instead. While Ichi does Empty An Entire Clip into Ryuji and it's badass as hell, he's also nice enough to get him immediate medical attention, which Jo wouldn't have been. Wild that Ryuji would be dead long before K2 if Jo and Ryuji really had met at that time.
Outside of that... perhaps a hot take... but I think Ryuji would be RGGJo's "type." Because the instant he meets Kagami (Tendo's counterpart, whom I personally prefer to Tendo himself lol) they hit it off. By which I mean RGGJo was blatantly flirting with him and batting his eyelashes going "Oh, you wouldn't want to fight little old me, I'm delicate." And, you know, Kagami's supposed to be The Ryujicore Guy, sort of in the vein of Watase in Y5 but even more so.
And I think the reason they get along so well--they, as "old-fashioned" yakuza, value strength above all else within other yakuza--is also something that transferred to Y7Jo, if his monologue in The Eye Scene is anything to go by. So that's perhaps another parallel with Ryuji that originated with RGGO, although Majima and some others are the same way, so perhaps not.
That's definitely the strongest connection between RGGJo and Ryuji, it's an aspect I was immediately able to pick up on when I was first reading through RGGO (and again, it is really funny from the lens of Ichi and Jo being bickering brothers just pointing at each other and going 'I did it first, you copied me!' and whining to dad about it lmao)
Ryuji's penchant for escaping death's pretty funny (if we want to count him surviving in Dead Souls as canonical, this is twice now): bless Ichiban for reserving his right to kill so we could at least meet Ryuji first (though now I can't help but to imagine Ryuji as some heinous beast they've been tasked to hunt down. I guess Ryuji being so large and having a fur coat doesn't help get rid of that imagination: Arakawa Family hunting trip anyone?).
SPEAKING of unmissable Ryuji traits in RGGO, Kagami was ESPECIALLY an absolute slap in the face for RGG to be like 'hey you guys remember Ryuji'. I almost laughed seeing him, but I didn't hate him of course, I was just surprised they really introduced a character so objectively inspired by Ryuji. I think you're onto something though: they could definitely click if given the chance (and now I do wonder what would have happened if RGGJo was sent to kill Ryuji instead…).
5 notes
·
View notes
I miss Sailor Moon!! I wish I could go back to just posting about it like I used to before lol. Maybe I'll do a rewatch of the new dub or something and just pick up where I left off
6 notes
·
View notes
━━ ❝ the way of the househusband ❞
☾₊‧⁺...cw : househusband!fushiguro toji x fem!reader, you are megumi's mom, flirting, playful banter, just overall silly and cute domestic life
☾₊‧⁺...lunar's note : just some simple lil toji hcs of him as a househusband! i need some sweet stuff of him without a lot of sexual stuff in it bc let's be real, in a domestic setting he's probably just a big clingy and mildly annoying bear husband
f. toji is never going to complain about being the one staying home, watching over the little gremlin that is megumi. he's got his own ways of bringing in money with that friend of his, shiu, but he's more than content to being the one in the frilly pink apron, cooking for you and the lil' man.
toji didn’t ever expect to get married, especially after how he was treated as a zenin. he didn't know much about love or how to connect with people, let alone you. but when you handed his ass to him with no struggle and a pretty smile on your face at the gym, he knew he wanted you. two years later and a shit load of aggressive flirting, toji ends up with you as his spouse and he wouldn't have it any other way.
so imagine toji's surprise when he's genuinely excited when you tell him your pregnant. he's excited but scared. him? a father? there's no way in hell he has any idea what to do, his own father was nothing but a piece of shit...so what if he turns out like him? but the moment you pop that big headed little fucker out of you, toji can't help but grin, that excitement of being a father and creating memories with this tiny little thing erasing all his fears.
whenever you come home from work, toji's usually in the living room with little megumi, who forced him to take part in the exercise part of his favorite kids show. you don't know how megumi, your one year old baby who still talked in little babbles, forced his massive giant of a father who could kill a man with a look to do 'exercise for baby,' but you know better than to question it when you see the two touching their toes in front of the tv.
sometimes, he's in the kitchen, however, wearing that 'kiss the cook' apron you got for his birthday. toji always wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into a kiss, muttering a 'welcome home’ against your lips before poking your side and going back to what he was doing, proud grin on his face at the little screech he gets from you.
he's started to get better at dodging your hands when you go to poke him back, skirting around the table before going to scoop megumi up. “you would never do such an act in front of 'gumi, would you? what if he starts going around poking girls in their sides, hm? then i'll have to explain to his teacher that his mama can't keep 'er hands to herself.”
toji's got you there...so you back off, opting to press a kiss to babygumi’s little forehead, taking him from your husband’s arms when he makes grabby hands at you. you savor the betrayed look on toji's face, sticking your tongue out at him. he scoffs, rolling his eyes before going back to make sure dinner wasn’t burnt. he’ll get you back for stealing his son from him.
despite what people might think, there’s not really a 'dominant' person in the relationship. when together, the two of you give off some of the most intimidating vibes because of the sheer power the both of you carry. it's not even put off by little megumi, because if he notices his parents looking at you in disgust, he's gonna give you one that's even worse.
toji will never forget the day the three of you went to the grocery store, him in his usual black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, you in one of those same shirts and leggings with megumi in the kiddie seat in the shopping cart, eating from the little snack pack toji made for him. toji swears he walked away for three fucking seconds, and he came back to some...fucker getting ready to chat you up. it’s no surprise anyone that he gets pissed, ready to storm over there and make it clear you're taken.
however, it's clear you don't need him to step in, and damn, you look...really hot telling this dude off, angrily flashing your ring when he wouldn't back off. god, he wishes he could marry you again. toji doesn’t even know what you told the guy, and he's tempted to playfully ask megumi what happened, knowing his lil' man would try to respond in babbles and coos.
“he said you crawled out from the trash, toj, i can't stand for that! he could’ve done you some justice and said you crawled out of the deepest pits of hell, so I had to educate him on that. besides, he called you my boyfriend and I almost punched his face.”
“yeah? hm, i’m glad you didn’t, babe, we don’t want to get kicked out the store.”
“i don’t know, i think an imprint of my ring in his forehead would get the message across.”
“well, next time, how about we just kiss like we haven't seen each other in 15 years? not a fan of showing out to some dude, but i'd do it for you, sweetheart.”
“mmn!”
“right, lil' man? mama's so mean t' me, it's a good idea.”
“gumiiii, you're supposed to be on my side!”
occassionally, when you're at work, toji'll just talk to megumi, the little one nice and comfy on his chest.
one habit he'll never get out of is randomly calling you throughout the day when he's particularly bored and missing you. if you don't answer, toji will just leave you a message, usually about how badly he wants you to come home, groaning about how tired he is but he can't sleep without you in his arms, without you playing with his hair until he falls asleep. he's so in love with you, it's almost makes you dizzy.
you'll never forget the day you come home to toji and baby megumi in the front yard, crouched down around...something. parking in the driveway, you make your way over and see what they're looking at. it's...a kitten and a puppy, two tiny little things playfighting with each other. neither one of them say anything, just looking at the two creatures. you sigh, knowing exactly what this means.
"...give them appropriate names and make vet appointments. we aren't naming the dog 'hot dog' and we aren't naming the cat 'kitten'."
"i told you it would work, lil' man."
all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
7K notes
·
View notes