#if i have to go back to the sly winter god himself i will. i can. i can visit

[afieldinengland]

.

[y-umiko]

3:03 | HANMA S.

Requested by Anon — for the 2k event Prompt: "You've always felt like home"

Hanma doesn’t have a clear definition of what and where home was and he doesn’t care but as he slowly sinks into apathy after winning fight after fight he begins to question where home was and what it feels like.

Home, Hanma thinks, is a place he sleeps at night, the place where he grew up that is far from the definition of what's supposed to be home.

a question circling his mind as he found himself standing on your doorstep yet he chooses to climb over the window, sneaking like a thief, disregarding the key in his pocket you had given him.

climbing over the window easily, the four corners of your apartment greeted him, it smells like you, the perfume that he smells on you when you cling to him. it smells of a faint smell of lavender from a burned-away candle and it feels more peaceful than he'd thought.

but that peace turned into fear, fear for your safety and well-being, sensing a presence that wasn't supposed to be inside your apartment at this ungodly hour. an intruder? police who found him? an enemy from another gang?

his senses were on fire, on alert ready to beat the hell out of the intruder. rounding the corner of your apartment ready to attack whoever dared step into his peaceful sanctuary.

without warning, a shadow jumps at him, lunging towards him, a metal baseball bat in hand, ready to swing at his head. luckily, his reflex is quick, he caught the bat with his bare hands and is ready to counter strike towards the intruder, but notices that it was in fact you.

"That's dangerous baby, you can't just go smashing my head" he grumbles, gently taking the baseball bat in your hand, the baseball hand he had given you in cases like this. who would have thought he'll be the first to have a taste of it.

you froze in place, shock filled your body that the intruder you thought was none other than Hanma himself. gently massaging his hand that caught your swing.

"Shuji! There's a door for a reason" you growl, pointing at your triple-locked door as per Hanma's suggestion, personally installing it himself. can't trust people these days - was what he said.

"you almost bashed my head open" he grumbles, pouting playfully in which you just rolled your eyes at him. arms crossed against your chest.

"don't be dramatic as if that's enough to bash open your thick head"

Hanma gasp dramatically, a fake hurt on his face "This what I get for coming home after a long time?"

and then it clicks

Home, he was home and hearing him say it spreads warmth in your chest as you can't help the corners of your lips to curl up. Having Hanma acknowledge that your apartment where you reside is his home as much as his.

"If you've knocked properly I could have greeted you a welcome back" you grinned, arms gently wrapping around his midsection. Hanma responds by wrapping his arm around you in turn, your skin was cold probably from laying in wait against him, yet he doesn't mind for you touch makes him relax against you.

"I know" he hums, uncharacteristically soft for him, softer than you ever heard before. his voice warm and adoring. relishing the feel of your embrace. because God he can imagine it, you welcoming him with your sunshined smile that can make any cold winter warm. "You've always felt like home"

and you didn't need any more to understand what it meant for him, to have a place he can proudly call home. a place where he's wanted and appreciated.

Home, Hanma thinks, is more than a place, it's a person that gives him a reason to want to come back. a person that makes him happier than anyone in the world.

he almost growled in protest when you gently shove him off but decided not to when you grab his arm and intertwined your fingers together, pulling him towards your bedroom "now get your sorry ass to bed, I'm -"

"horny?" he finishes for you, a sly grin spreading on his lips. because no matter what it is, he can never say no to you. and you thought he was being sappy this evening, but the next second the sly Hanma come back.

"sleepy Shuji, sleepy!" you emphasize, which Hanma only grins, letting you drag him to your room for a good night's sleep.

"worth a try"

And Hanma would let you drag him anywhere you want, he'll search every corner of the world seeking you if he had to because it's you who makes him feel at home.

[golatcxr]

[KomaHina] inhale, exhale

Word count: 1481

Tags: Hurt with Comfort, Mild angst (if you squint), Vaping, Detective AU (though it has almost nothing to do with the storyline), let's pretend that Nagito doesn't have lymphoma it hurts so much please, Subtle confession

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

“I thought you hated smoking?”

The question draws a lazy blink from the white-headed male.

His exhale makes it look like he’s breathing out in the frigid air of winter, yet he is not. The faint smoke swirls, only to be carried away along with the gentle breeze of August. It’s alluring, in a way, if not for the sly smile that’s facing Hinata’s way.

It’s always hard not to stare.

“Maybe, but things have changed I guess.”

Komaeda chuckles bitterly as he closes the lid of his vape pen with an audible pop. “Say, aren’t I pathetic?”

Hinata has never seen him so weary, much less going as far as to damage his own lungs with the thing that he used to despise. Hinata then takes a seat on the tire swing, careful not to fall into its hole. He wonders why many children had the guts to even stand on this thing, but either way, it’s not the children on these swings now.

It’s two detectives, admidst the blueberry scented air.

“Something must have happened, no? Your self-loathing normally doesn’t usually push you this far.” Hinata speaks up softly.

“I half-expected that you would get this wrong, but no, nothing happened. Just me and my same old self.” Komaeda lets out a breathy laugh in response, if it could ever be considered a laugh, that is.

He leans his side against the rusty chain that’s holding the swing upright and slowly turns his head to gaze at his colleague. He smiles.

Hinata has stuck around for long enough to deduct the meanings behind each and every smile Komaeda has thrown his way, though this one doesn’t seem as apparent to him.

“I’m proud of you”, “You’re wrong”, “Thank you”, “What a pity”, …

.

“?”

Mesmerizing as his green yes are, it’s easier to get lost in his gaze than to decipher them. Hinata’s nose stings a little.

“You’re so hard to read sometimes…”

Hinata doesn’t know when Komaeda has held out a hand towards him.

He gives Komaeda a quick look to confirm whether that hand is supposed to be for him to take in his or not, in the end, he decides to give in.

“I’m impressed by the amount of patience that you have, Hinata-kun.” Hinata can feel Komaeda’s thumb tracing circles on his hand, all cold and dry, as he goes on. “Let me guess, you stormed out in the middle of the night to find me because you found out what under my blanket wasn’t me, correct?”

“Why else would I be here then?” Hinata blurted out almost immediately. To say he was worried was an understatement, but his tiredness has beat him to it.

“Hah… I feel so touched knowing that.” Komaeda sighs quietly.

Hinata wonders if it’s the moon, or if his god-forsakken coworker really looked so relieved after hearing what he has just said. Komaeda has been smiling this whole time and the grip on Hinata’s hand tightens. Hinata opens and closes his mouth a few times but he doesn’t end up saying anything, instead, he stares back into the same pair of eyes that’s looking at him. He has so much to say, but they are all incomprehensible thoughts mushed together in his head. They might even look worse than the amount of work that has once bogged him down when he was working wih the court. But…

Isn’t this the perfect opportunity to have a deep talk with Komaeda?

Where does he even start?

“You want to say something.” Komaeda blankly states, which then successfully catches Hinata’s attention. “You have a habit of druming your fingers or swaying your legs when you’re itching to say something.”

Ah…

Hinata can’t help but feel a little ashamed when his feelings are stripped raw like that. Well, Komaeda is also a detective himself, is he not?

“I knew you wouldn’t scold me from the moment you caught me vaping, Hinata-kun.” He begins. “You wouldn’t scold me for running away from our quarter in the middle of the night, nor would you scold me for indulging in such… detrimental hobby.”

Komaeda’s fingers then shift slightly only to weave them into the rough ones that are within their reach. He continues.

“You know, I was beyond happy when you asked. Such scum like me does not deserve someone like you…” Komaeda trails off as he drifts his gaze down his intertwined hand. “You are observant, but sometimes, I want your eyes to be reserved for me only.”

Despite how quietly Komaeda speaks, the very few things that Hinata can hear are the sound of leaves rustling and the white-headed’s talking. It would be safe to say that this dead of the night adorns Komaeda’s voice so much it’s a far cry from the usual raspy voice that he hears when they are at work or solving a case together. Oh how he wants to put it on replay.

“Komaeda…”

“Look at me.”

Those three words snap Hinata back to locking eyes with Komaeda, only then does he realize that his eyes have wandered anywhere but not the eyes. Komaeda’s body has been way over the thick chain, to the point where he can just fall face-first if he leans a tiny bit more. Hinata quickly pulls his hand up to prevent that from happening.

Komaeda chuckles as he sits up again properly. “I’ve been thinking, when will you finally runs out of patience for me and let go of me?” His smile stays unfazed, although it’s hard to ignore the underlying bitterness of it.

“Will you be fine without me?”

“Better, as in better off dead.” Komaeda talks as if he’s joking around with it, but then again, Hinata knows what it means.

“Don’t tell me this is the reason behind your sudden interest in vaping.”

“I’m afraid it is.”

“…”

Hinata brings his free hand up his forehead and heave out a long sigh. He’s conflicted about whether he should give Komaeda a slap across the face, or pull him into his embrace.

Komaeda stands up slowly and makes his way over to Hinata, now towering him. His cloudy locks drops slightly over his pale face as he lifts Hinata’s chin to make eye-contact. Droopy eyelids topping over his grayish green orbs, unlike Hinata’s heterochromatic ones. They look so much more vibrant.

“You have no idea how much your caring gestures mean to me.”

This time, Komaeda’s voice sounds more strained as he starts to caress Hinata’s face. “The way you would always look out for me, the way that you never leave me behind in a mission, everything…”

"It hurts, calling you a friend."

Hinata’s lips part slightly, and Komaeda chuckles at that.

"You get what I mean, right?"

"Yeah, and I'm positive about that."

Komaeda fishes out the vape pen in his pocket and quickly inhales it.

"Open your mouth."

The sudden request takes Hinata by surprise. He hesitates at first, but then complies anyways.

Komaeda holds Hinata's jaw to keep his mouth open and blows the smoke into it. He intentionally keeps he grip on Hinata's face for a brief second before releasing him. Hinata then immediately closes his mouth and coughs out a little, his face burning. The fresh air now smells like blueberry again, he almost forgot that Komaeda had been vaping before he arrived.

"??????"

"Sorry, it's just a way of reminding you of me." Komaeda's grin springs back onto his face as he twirls the vape in his hand.

"You could have just kissed me."

"Too bad I chose not to. Otherwise I'd go wild if you let me."

Komaeda leans his forehead against Hinata's, hands in his pockets so carefreely. The answer he was given to his subtle confession was like a weight lifted off his shoulders. For him, that's enough.

"The next time you feel insecure, you can talk to me." Hinata threads his hand into Komaeda's soft locks and strokes his head gently as he trails off. "I'd be more than willing to lend you an ear."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"And don't run away like that again."

"Alright." Komaeda's smile widens as he pulls back a little until their eyes meet again.

At this point, he decides to just shut off kinds of thoughts in his mind and lean in to capture Hinata's lips. It's an hurried kiss, yet it feels like only a split second when they part their lips. He blinks.

"Stay with me, will you?"

"Sure." Hinata finally eases up and return Komaeda's smile. "I was about to say that you should quit vaping, but before that..."

He swiftly pulls the small device out of Komaeda's pocket and holds it up. May be the vape is getting to him as well.

"Mind doing it again?"

"Gladly."

Blueberry scented vape isn't so bad after all, or perhaps it's Komaeda.

I'm back to writing after more than a year of hiatus yipee 😭

[twola]

Seven Deadly Sins - IX

PAIRING: low to mid honor Arthur Morgan x Fem!reader

Because if one thing is true, it is that Arthur Morgan is a sinner. Pure, organic, non-GMO smut. A continuing series.

Warnings: Smut, Violence, Low to Medium Honor Arthur (and all that entails)

Perdition: a state of eternal punishment and damnation into which a sinful and unpenitent person passes after death.

➵ AO3 Link

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“I’m really sorry for you son, it's a hell of a thing.”

Arthur’s world slowed. It shrunk down to the room in this doctor’s office in Saint Denis, closing in on him, choking, like something pressing down on his chest. Making it even harder to breathe than it already is. 

“Wha- what d’ya mean?” He hoarsely asked the doctor, who frowned before turning toward the sink opposite where he sat.

Tuberculosis. Consumption.

“You’re real sick, it's - it's a progressive disease. You’ll be… well, the best thing is rest. And getting somewhere warm and dry and taking it easy now. Is that possible?”

“Sure, I can just take my winters in my country club in California. No, it's not possible.” Arthur retorts icily.

“Well.. like I said, I’m real sorry.”

The doctor moves toward the table, grabbing a syringe. “Let me give you some more energy today, at least.”

Arthur barely registers the pinch of the needle in his arm, but he does feel the rush of energy through his blood, a warming that goes to his head and jolts his weary bones.

The doctor goes back to the table, fiddling with the syringe he just emptied.

“Doc - does it, how - c’n I give it to someone by…?”

He turns around, slowly. The doctor’s eyes flit down to Arthur’s hands - his left ring finger that was conspicuously empty.

“Are you talking about a woman? One you’re intimate with?”

Arthur nods, an even larger pit growing in his stomach.

The doctor’s frown deepens.

-

Arthur Morgan has always been an unrepentant man. He stole, he robbed, he shot and he killed his way through life. He was sure he would get his someday - at the end of a revolver perhaps, or the hangman’s noose. 

He supposed he deserved it, that the higher power he’s never truly believed in would smite him down one day for his deeds - and he had accepted that. Bad men don’t get to have a good life. Why bother changing if all of that blood was going to damn him anyway?

The horse beneath him whinnies as he pushes his spurs into her side, urging her faster, faster, through the tepid and humid marshes of Bluewater, north, north to where the gang had taken refuge after Lakay, at some old blasted hill country camp in the damp and dark hills of Roanoke Ridge.

Arthur found himself praying - to a God he’s never prayed to before - that the punishment he was going to receive would be enough - enough to satisfy the divine being his justice. 

You don’t deserve that punishment.

You don't deserve to die. Eliza didn’t deserve to die. Isaac, that bright and bouncing boy, he certainly did not deserve to die.

The thoughts of damnation and punishment invade his psyche so much so that he does not even realize he’s reached Beaver Hollow, absentmindedly going through the motions of hitching his horse and starting to walk toward Tilly, at the edge of the camp reading a book on a blanket.

“Miss Tilly.”

Tilly looks up and smiles. He doesn’t even have to ask, “She took laundry down to the river.” She nods her head to the left, motioning down the hill toward the winding Kamassa carved out of the Roanoke Valley.

Arthur nods and quickly heads down the trail, unwilling to speak to anyone else at the moment. Thoughts of his impending demise were shoved to the back of his mind - he would face them later.

He needed to see you first.

-

You’re singing, singing, of all things. Scrubbing a shirt against a rock. One of his shirts. The domesticity of it all warms his heart for a short moment - a moment before he remembers he’s a dying outlaw on the run and you are not his wife doing laundry at your homestead. Your soft laugh, your sly smile; the way you sigh his name when he’s buried between your thighs. How could he ever be deserving of your love, of all things, with this much evil he’s done?

You’re a petty thief. A saint compared to him.

You’re simply the object of his transgressions.

He’s lusted after you, your nude frame in the moonlight in Flat Iron Lake. He saw you and lusted for you and took you, that night under the bright moonlight as you sighed his name.

He’s gluttonous with your body - the sweet tang of your slick, feasting upon you in some old boathouse, head between your thighs taking of you far more than his fill.

He’s a greedy, greedy man - collecting your moans and sighs like a rich man collects gold coin - to drown himself in the pile he’s ripped from you.

He’s envious of any man who touches you - to brush against your soft skin that should be blessed only for him.

He’s killed, he’s murdered and maimed, for you - a wrathful punishment against men who dared disrespect or hurt you.

He’s guilty of slothful want - ignoring and shirking responsibilities and jobs and getting money to lock himself in a room with you and spend the hours worshiping your body.

He’s prideful in his possession, wanting all to know that you belonged to him - that you chose him, the miserable bastard that he is, above all others.

Just when he thought he was given his deliverance, laid on his knees next to you after Guarma - the karmic forces of the universe threaten to take him away from you again.

Your song falls into humming as you move to lift the wet work shirt of his - the blue one he always manages to stain, wringing out the water from it before laying it out on a large, flat stone to dry.

God almighty, does he love you. 

Maybe he will be spared this tiny bit of retribution for his incalculable sins and be damned to never touch you again. Never feeling your kiss or your warmth or the sweet clutch of your cunt on his cock again. That certainly is punishment for both of you.

Christ, he just wants to lay you down in the mossy grass and take you apart, loving each and every inch of you until he physically can’t. 

But he won’t.  If by some divine providence, he hasn’t cursed you, he swears he will never touch you again. He’ll put you atop his horse and take you to Annesburg and put you on a train with every penny he has socked away. To go on living, away from the gang that seems to be splintering by the day, away from him, slowly dying under the weight of his failing lungs-

“Oh, Arthur, there you are.” You turn and catch sight of him, a smile gracing your face as you slide across the rock to sit on the edge closer to him.

“Feel like I haven’t seen you in days,” you sigh, but cannot keep the smile from your face as he steps closer, a cold sweat breaking out over the back of his neck.

“Sweetheart, I-“

Arthur is cut off when you cover your mouth to cough, a wet, eerily familiar sound that sends his heart sinking to his feet.

“Sorry - think I’ve got a cold. Haven’t been feelin’ well since we got here, these damn hills….”

He’s been so busy since coming back from Guarma, moving the gang up to Beaver Hollow. The Pinkertons and the Indians and Annesburg and… he’s barely been around. He hadn’t heard a cough. His mind works a million miles an hour as he’s back in the chair in the doctor’s office in Saint Denis. 

“There’s a good chance you’ve given it to her, son.”

“What were you going to tell me, cowboy?”

You wipe your mouth with your sleeve and he sees the faintest red staining your teeth.

This is his comeuppance. This is everything he’s ever deserved. Every terrible decision in his life, every person he’s ever hurt - it has all come to this. Damnation and hellfire and all of the pain he’s ever dealt out to others - it comes back in a crushing feeling in his chest far worse than the sickness slowly killing him.

He should have known. He should have known.

People around him get hurt. 

They die, because of him.

Because he’s a bad person.

“Arthur? What is it-”

He moves to you in quick steps and falls to his knees, taking your hand and pressing it to his lips before moving against his cheek.

“I’ve damned us both.”

Your eyebrows quirk up in alarm, “What are you talk-”

“I- I’m dyin’. I got TB.”

“What? How - ?” You mumble incredulously, eyes like saucer plates.

“One o’ Strauss’s debts - beat him, he was already dyin’ and I beat him goddamn bloody….”

Your eyes start to lose their focus as you look down at your hand, small, pinkish splotches of blood faintly stain your fingers. You look back to him as color drains from your face.

A dawning of realization sweeps through your eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart. I - I…” he stumbles as his heart breaks. 

Words fail him.

He’s sorry, he’s sorry he’s sentenced you to death, a terrible fate of drowning within your own body. That you’ve been caught up in the punishment he was fated to receive in the life he’s lived. 

His bloodshot eyes water over as he can’t look at you anymore. He presses your hand to his lips again.

You pull it away violently. You may as well have shot him, the searing, visceral pain he feels piercing his heart - he would rather be shot than feel this.

“I…I need… I need to...” You whisper, standing up from your seat on the rock. You stumble a step away before catching yourself, eyes distant.

You may as well have stabbed him in the chest and ripped out his beating heart. He reaches out to you on his knees and you bat his hands away.

“I need to be alone right now,” Your voice has gone low and you refuse to meet his gaze.

“Sweetheart-“

“ Leave me alone.” You snarl back at him.

You turn away from him, quickly walking further down the riverbank, stumbling across the smooth river stones. He jumps to his feet, quickly following you, catching up to you after several steps.

“Darlin' - let me- let me take you to the…”

You stop in your tracks, not turning around. Arthur tries to grab your hand, and you nearly hiss at him, drawing away. You finally turn your head partway toward him, and a burning, smoldering, naked hatred reflects back at him.

“Haven’t you done enough?” Your frame shudders as you try to hold in a cough.

Arthur stops - painfully close to you. Close enough to reach out and draw your small frame to his, but his arms don’t work. 

Your eyes narrow before you turn and walk away, your body language obvious that you do not want him to follow.

He’s watched before as someone he’s loved walked away from him. The stabbing, crushing feeling as real as any bullet or knife, or blow. The slow bleed of being left alone. The exsanguination of his beating heart - where love is given, but not received in return. 

-

Arthur lies in his cot. It feels so empty. It truly is only made for one person, especially one of his size, but he’s gotten so used to you being in it that he can’t bear to sleep without your warmth next to him.

Roanoke is cold. Damp. He’s stripped to his dark blue union suit, underneath a heavy blanket on his cot, staring at the flicker of the oil lantern as darkness settles in.

Arthur stumbled back into camp as the dusk was falling in, he somehow managed to avoid needing to interact with people and was able to pull the canvas shut on his tent as the hours wore on.

He’s listening for you, your soft voice or shy footsteps. Staring at the pocketwatch he left on the bedside table again, vowing to wait just a bit longer before storming out of his tent and going straight for his horse to scour the countryside for you. The nagging feeling in his chest was compounded by the damn Murfrees around.

Fortunately, for his sanity, he is not forced to make that decision.

The tent’s flaps are drawn back and a form slides between them. The burning lantern throws light on you, as you step closer, wringing your hands and staring at the ground. Your bare feet peek out from under your skirts.

“Sweetheart?”

You quietly pad toward the cot, and sit yourself down on the edge, swallowing and finally meeting his gaze as he sits up, shedding the blanket and placing his legs over the edge of the cot. Your eyes are red and bloodshot, and he knows that he’s the cause of it.

“If we’re dyin’, then I don’t want to spend any more time bein’ cross with you. I want to be with you as much as I can.” You say softly, almost a whisper.

“I’m so sorr-”

“Don’t. We’re here now. Ain’t nothing gonna change that.”

You settle in to sit next to him, and he puts his arm around you as he kisses your shoulder. For a moment you stare at the pitch of the tent before turning your head toward him.

His hand gently cups your cheek as he leans to kiss your forehead. “You’re… you’re the best thin’ that’s happened to me.”

You’re silent, and each moment that goes by drives the stake deeper into his heart as your eyes search his face.

“Darl-”

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his. By throwing your arms around him and pushing your body against him. By crawling into his lap and weaving your fingers through his hair.  He pants gently, eyes wide as you pull back only inches. He thought he’d never taste your lips again. 

“Make love to me, Arthur.”  

“Are y’sure?”

Your eyes flit downward to his lips before coming back up to his eyes. Your hand moves to cup his cheek as you lean into him again, pressing your forehead against his. You nod, slowly, to answer his question. 

You press your lips to his and he drinks of you as if he were a parched man. His arms wind around you, pulling you against him, plastered against each other.

“Oh, darlin’…” He sighs between kisses, having maneuvered you to straddle his lap, his hands settle on your hips as you begin to slowly roll your hips against his.

Your knees settle on either side of his hips as he sits on the cot, and through the layers of cotton of your skirts and his union suit, he swells. A groan escapes his throat as his blood settles hotly in his lap.

With one slow undulation, you cant your hips so that his burgeoning cock settles against your folds, parting them through fabric. Arthur’s eyes flutter open as you sit up straight in his lap, and your fingers slowly move to the collar of his dark blue union suit, undoing the first two buttons with practiced ease, as if you had been undressing him all of your life instead of only a couple of months.

More and more of his chest becomes visible to you as you work your way down, the bones of his ribcage much more prominent under the layer of muscle than they ever had been before.

He wheezes. Your fingers stop haltingly, the third button of his union suit halfway undone, falling back against his sternum. His bloodshot eyes catch yours once he has recovered his breath, pained, vulnerable. 

“We don’t have to do this.” He mumbles, gaze locked on yours, the blue-green of his irises betraying that while the low tones of his voice say one thing, his tortured soul pleads for another.

“I’m not leaving.” You whisper back at him, your fingers slowly moving back to the buttons of his suit. Your gaze flutters down to his chest again as you continue your work of disrobing him.

You’re completely caught by surprise when he lifts you from his lap and easily maneuvers your body to lay on the cot before he climbs atop you, pressing his hips into yours again before chasing your lips as he settles his elbows on either side of your head.

Even ill, even dying, Arthur has more than enough strength to move you however he pleases.

His lips trail from yours down your neck, nuzzling his beard against your skin, leaving warm, wet splotches as he works his way down. He pulls back, balancing on his knees, shrugging out of the arms of his union suit, letting the fabric hang at his waist. You pull your shirt from your skirts and up and over your head, letting it fall to the wayside over the side of the cot.

He leans down and catches your lips briefly before sitting back up again, unbuttoning his union suit completely and pushing it down to his knees. His swollen cock bobs before he places his hand upon it and strokes a few times.

You shimmy your bloomers down from underneath your skirts, kicking them away as you draw your skirts to lay limply around your waist, baring your lower half to him as he hovers above you. 

Arthur’s hand moves slowly from his cock toward you. He slides the sleeves of your chemise down, and the cotton falls from your skin as his fingers tug at it. He traces the pad of his thumb over your nipple, and you shiver as the skin pebbles as he passes it over. Arthur’s large hand then moves to cup your breast, squeezing lightly. His other hand weaves into your hair as he kisses you breathlessly. 

The hot line of him settles against your soft belly as he settles between your hips, your legs falling open for him as the cotton layers of your skirts fall away.

Arthur wants to spend every waking second he has left in his miserable life in the gentle warmth of your embrace, skin to skin, about to bury his cock in your hips.

And when both he and you are bare and tangled in each other in his dark tent, with nothing but the heavy beating of your hearts and panting of your breath in the tent, Arthur gently, slowly slides his cock into your folds. A soft groan escapes his mouth as your hips touch, and you wrap your legs over his hips, crossing your ankles over his back as you whine back, the stretch of when he enters you sweet and overwhelming.

He takes his time, waiting for you to grow used to his intrusion into your body. When he does start to move his hips, it’s slow, gentle, as if he were savoring each and every second of being locked inside you. He slides down your chest, leaving small love bites upon your skin as you squirm underneath him with each thrust of his hips downwards to press you into the cot.

Your fingers spread out over his back, his hands weaving through your unbound hair, and your hips moving together in the dance of lovemaking without rush or the ferocity of your normal coupling. His hips roll and you accept: the sound of wet skin on wet skin periodically interspersed between soft moans, cut off gasps, and the creaking of the cot as your bodies move together.

You come and it’s completely by surprise, a choked-off whine as you clutch at Arthur’s shoulders, trying to smother your noise into his neck. He grunts and continues his pace through your orgasm, whispering soft affirmations into your ear as he fucks you, until the clutch around his flesh is too much to stand.

“I’m gonna… god-” he rasps into your ear, you can feel the muscles in his stomach clench against yours as he careens toward orgasm, “Where d’ya -”

“Inside - always inside, until -” you whisper, and he presses his mouth over yours to stop you from continuing further, from speaking into the world the terrible, unfailing truth.

He hitches his hips into yours, and a stifled moan rumbles from his chest against your mouth, as you can feel his cock twitch within your cunt. Arthur pours himself into you, coating your inner walls with his warm spend. How many more times would he be able to do this before he or you couldn’t?

He gasps, far more winded than he should be.

Arthur pulls out and you feel the slow drip of his cooling spend from your body, knowing it doesn't matter anymore. He quietly settles himself next to you, his hand moving to cup your cheek.

The tears in your eyes spill over, and he knows, it’s not from joy or physical satisfaction. He pulls you into his chest and his throat gets tight as you sob into his skin. Your hands are gathered tightly between the two of you, and he’s afraid you’re going to feel the rattling of his failing lungs under your fingertips.

He’s afraid that he’s going to feel the rattle from your lungs as you’re wrapped in his arms.

You weep into the curve of his neck. You weep for the impending death of dreams, of futures, and for your collective demise.

He cannot stop the tears from spilling from his own eyes. They track down his cheeks, hollowed and gaunt, as he stares at the pitch of the tent where the two of you are slowly dying in each other’s arms.

He weeps for you, that you are a casualty of the damnation he was always destined for. 

[puella-peanut]

any ideas for a silverusso involving super hot crackerjack!terry and precious baby daniel/teddy from cuba and his teddy bear?

Terry Silver’s an undercover narcotics officer with a taste for cocaine on the sly. But when he catches wind of several rogue drug deals that a low life, illiterate drug dealer has run too close to his neighborhood of choice—he sets out to investigate. 

But one day early into the hunt, on the fire escape of a crumbling brownstone on the Lower East Side—instead of an uneducated man with a penchant for a hustle, Terry runs into a child. A teenager, really. And the sweetest boy he’s ever seen. All shaggy, dark hair, matching eyes. Plump lips. But there's an ugly bruise on his thin cheek. The remains of a scar puckered on his forehead.

He’s not much more than sixteen. 

He’s terrified. 

Their eyes meet for just a moment, across soot and stairs. Curiosity and fear. Before and after. 

Not even a second later, the boy tries to make a run for it, his sneakers slamming into a dirty puddle at the start of what could have been a sprint—except that Terry’s too fast for him. Too tall, too strong. Too ready. 

Too much. 

He reaches, turning as he does so the kid slams against the alleyway wall. Crying out pitifully as his narrow back crashes into dirty brick, and shaking so hard that Terry simply holds him there like that, against the graffiti swear words scrawled high as if to challenge god. Moments pass, rats scuttling between them towards the overflowing garbage nearby. The boy is reduced to shivers, then to the occasional twitch. On the street, grimy, shifty-eyed people walk by either unaware, or unconcerned. In Terry’s arms, the kid eventually manages to hold himself very still, face deathly white. As if willing himself to vanish. Curl up into the air and take to the sky like the foul smoke from neighboring factories. Or a bird. 

Terry’s grasp on him tightens.

He feels the bone shift and flesh stir, and the boy comes alive again; cheeks flushing red, a whimper that shouldn't be pretty but is, spilling from his slender throat. Terry presses into him at that, inhaling the scent of fresh cigarette smoke and something more foul, desperate—and then his hand sharply rolls up an arm of the kid’s jean-jacket. The faded sleeve of the old red sweatshirt under. He holds up a scrawny arm to the scrutiny of his eyes, to the judgement of a cold winter sun. The boy’s pretty face crumples like paper. 

Track marks. Scratches. A scar from the jagged edge of a switchblade. 

Bruises so dark they’re almost black. 

Terry breaths out, slowly. Breath fogging into unspoken ghosts between them. 

Heroin, of course. Child abuse a given. The boy’s too slight and timid for brawling, though. Bullying? Easy target, this one. But underage sex work? Child prostitution? For fuck’s sake. Surely…

Terry studies him again. The long lashes. The delicate line of his clavicle. The fragile, breakable beauty of him.

A looker. 

And on these streets—a victim. 

“Name, kid?” Terry asks finally. 

“I…I wasn’t doing nothin’, I promise, Officer, I, I’m just—“

“Name. Now.”

The boy swallows. Sniffles. A tear runs down the side of his nose. There's salt in the air, cold sweat on skin. Pain.  

“D…Daniel. Sir," he whispers.

That’s all it takes. 

...

Terry Silver’s an undercover narcotics officer with a taste for cocaine on the sly. But when he catches wind of several rogue drug deals that a low life, illiterate drug dealer has run too close to his neighborhood of choice—he sets out to investigate. 

...But what starts off as just a run of the mill drug bust very quickly turns into something more. Terry says he won't get involved, he can’t. Shouldn’t. Just catch the dealer, get the kid off the streets. Foster care, GED. A child psychologist. End this shit, let him go. Go back to black coffee and blacker toast. His daily white line of cocaine. Out of tune pianos and the creaky kneelers of Saint Patrick's down on Coogan. Return to his lonely apartment after hunting down criminals past midnight on the mean streets, just to wake up at five come next morning to do it all again. 

But he can't forget the trembling body he should never have touched. That sweet voice that sang for him so prettily when he carved the boy into his bed. The warm, slender hands tangled in his hair. Those pleading doe-eyes—pleading for what? Drugs? Protection? A lingering hold? Terry himself?

Terry knows he shouldn’t. 

He should keep away from this boy. He’s better than this, isn’t he? He only slipped that one time. Twice, goddamnit. He couldn’t help himself. One look into those fathomless eyes, one taste of that sweet mouth—and he falls. Away from his better judgement, right into Daniel’s welcoming body. Doing exactly to the boy what he said he was going to save him from. After a while, he can’t even bring himself to let it bother him. If it ever truly bothered him in the first place. 

Terry knows that broken boy in his arms, in his bed—is his. And if he’s got to break him more to keep him that way—so be it, then. 

So be it. 

[storiesforallfandoms]

how they react when you walk in covered in blood and carrying a gun ~ mcu

request?: no

warnings: swearing, mentions of guns and violence

masterlist (one, two)

*only using the og six plus bucky, wanda and loki because there’s way too many marvel characters rn; also based off of a tiktok by anniedvorak!*

BRUCE BANNER/HULK:

The last person you expected to see when you entered Thor’s room on Sakaar with the intentions of saving him was your boyfriend, Bruce. He had been lost for so long, you had let your heart let go of him. But there he was, stood with a cloth wrapped around his waist after having turned back from the Hulk.

You were tempted to walk back out. This wasn’t exactly how you wanted Bruce to see you - an alien gun in hand and blood splattered over your face and clothes. But it was too late, he was already looking at you with wide eyes.

“(Y/N),” he said, turning to approach you but stopping halfway. You weren’t sure if he had stopped because of the blood or because he was still technically naked. “What are you...what did you...?”

“I’m trying to save Thor,” you responded. “Listen, we don’t have much time. I can explain everything once all of us are off of this planet. Put some pants on, we’re getting out of here.”

~~~~~~

BUCKY BARNES/THE WINTER SOLDIER:

You walked in after a surprise run in with the Flag Smashers. Bucky already looked about ready to kill someone, but when you walked through the door of Zemo’s apartment, blood covering your face and your gun clutched tightly in your hand, his face turned red with anger.

“What the hell happened to you?” Sam asked.

“Flag Smashers,” you breathed in response.

“I’m gonna fucking kill them,” Bucky hissed, abandoning his drink on the counter and making his way to the door.

You put a hand up to stop him. “I think that ship has sailed. This isn’t all my blood.”

Bucky cupped your face in his hands, his face softening as he looked at you. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you insisted. “I just need a shower, and maybe a visit to a hospital or something. They hit me pretty hard, I think I have some bruised ribs or something.”

He kissed your forehead and took your gun from your still shaking hands. Once it was safely put aside, he brought you into the bathroom to help you bathe and to start dressing your wounds.

~~~~~~

CLINT BARTON/HAWEYE:

You were extremely lucky that Clint worked with someone like Natasha regularly, or else he would’ve been much more concerned when you arrived home from work covered in blood and still carrying you gun. He barley looked up from the TV as you walked through the door, immediately racing for your bedroom so you could shower and change.

“Hard day at work?” he called as you passed by.

“That last target they sent me after put up a hell of a fight,” you responded. “By the time I finally got him, I realized how late it was and rushed home immediately. I’m glad S.H.I.E.L.D issues those SUVs with the tinted windows or else I definitely would’ve been pulled over for suspicious activity.”

Clint chuckled and rose from his seat. He walked into your shared bedroom as you were pulling off you bloodstained clothes and throwing them into a pile to be tossed out eventually. His eyes raked over your body as you looked up at him.

“Red looks good on you,” he said, a teasing smirk pulling at his lips.

“That’s gross,” you teased. “You’re gross. Just for that, you can’t shower with me.”

He groaned as you walked into the bathroom and locked the door before he could follow you in. 

~~~~~~

LOKI:

The sly smirk on Loki’s face was enough to almost rid you of the annoyance you felt after what you just had to do. Almost.

You walked up to the panel that controlled his glass cage. You could’ve easily figured out how to deal with it, but instead you shot the control panel. Sparks flew from it before Loki’s prison sprung open.

“Seems like a bit of overkill,” he commented.

“Shut it,” you hissed. “You told me it was going to be easy to break you out. You failed to mention the entire team of guards that were watching this room, and, oh yeah, the team of super humans that were assembled to face you?!”

Loki walked free of his cage, taking a dramatic deep breath before smiling to himself. “Well, doesn’t seem like you had an issue with them, as I knew you wouldn’t.”

He approached you, arms out as if he were going to hug you and try to kiss you. You poked his stomach with the barrel of your gun, glaring up at him.

“Come one step closer and we see how much damage a mortal weapon can do to a God.”

Loki put his hands on your shoulders, keeping you a fair distance away to heed your warning. “I’m sorry for not giving you a proper warning. Thank you for freeing me, I do appreciate it.”

You allowed yourself to relax against his touch and smiled a little. “You’re welcome.”

“Now, let’s get out of here, shall we?”

“You’re doing all the work this time.”

~~~~~~

NATASHA ROMANOFF/BLACK WIDOW:

It probably wasn’t a good idea, but you didn’t know where else to go. Natasha had always warned you about the Red Room, and you were so stupid to not listen to her.

Now you were stood on her doorstep, covered in blood that wasn’t yours, your gun dangling from your hand as you wished to drop it but also too scared to let it go. It was what Natasha looked at first when she opened the door - the gun, then to your blood covered face.

“Put the gun down,” she said, her voice calmer than you expected.

You gratefully allowed her to take it from your hand as you felt tears starting to well in your eyes. She pulled you in for a hug, where you started to sob on her shoulder. She took a quick look around to make sure you weren’t followed before bringing you into her house.

“Go get cleaned up,” she told you. “We’ll figure out your next step together.”

~~~~~~

STEVE ROGERS/CAPTAIN AMERICA:

You showed up to Sam’s shortly after Steve had brought Natasha. You could barley keep yourself up, the fight had taken everything out of you. You were sure Sam was going to turn you away - you were a stranger showing up on his doorstep covered in blood with a gun in your hand. You were pleasantly shocked when he stepped aside and told you where to find Steve.

Poor Steve. He was already trying to help Natasha, who had been in the same situation as you just with a lot less blood. She was resting when you walked in, dazed and just wanting to also rest.

He was up in seconds, reaching out to wrap you in his arms despite the blood covering you.

“The Winter Soldier is one mean fucker,” you breathed, resting your head against Steve’s chest. “I think he finally got wore out and ran off. Unfortunately, I was wore out about an hour before he was, but I kept going.”

“You should’ve given up long ago, honey,” he said.

“I’m not a pussy,” you said with a slight laugh. “Although I am starting to succumb to the pain.”

He picked you up into his arms and carried you to the bathroom where he helped you to rinse the blood off of your body so you could finally rest.

~~~~~~

THOR:

It was a side of you that Thor had never seen before. He had lost you during the battle in Sokovia and was expecting the worst when he couldn’t get you over the coms. When you showed back up to jet, blood covering your tired looking face, he was overjoyed to see you were alright, but also a little shocked by your appearance.

“Those fuckers really thought they had me,” you said, a half laugh bubbling on your lips. “They were a little shocked when I got the upper hand on them. Even more shocked when I shot them dead.”

“I was worried for you, (Y/N),” Thor said, cupping your face in his hands as he approached you. “I truly thought they had taken you from me.”

You smirked up at him. “You really have no faith in me at all them, do you? Or you just underestimate me. I’m a little offended on both accounts, though.”

Thor smiled back at you. “Of course, I would never doubt you. Just a bit of fear is all.”

“When you two are done being gross,” came Tony’s voice from inside the jet, “we’d like to get back to the tower. I think (Y/N) needs a shower and a fresh change of clothes more than anything.”

~~~~~~

TONY STARK/IRON MAN:

“Miss (Y/L/N) incoming Mr. Stark.”

“Tell her to come back at another time, J.A.R.V.I.S, I’m busy right now.”

“I don’t think it can wait, sir.”

Tony looked up to see you walking through the door to his lab, your body trembling as you clutched the gun tightly in your hand. There was a splatter of blood over your shirt and some on your face. You looked up at him, looking like a helpless child.

He quickly walked over to you, his hand automatically reaching for the gun. You gladly let him take it, feeling like a weight had been lifted the moment the weapon was out of your hands.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I-I was attacked at-at home,” you stuttered. “I don’t know how they got in, I don’t know who they were. I walked into my house and was blindsided by these two men trying to attack me. I got the gun out of the hands of one of them and I...I...”

Your hands moved to mimic the action of shooting your attackers, but you couldn’t actually bring yourself to say you had done it. You didn’t want to admit to having shot anyone, even if it was in self defense.

Tony placed the gun aside and took you into his arms. You stopped fighting against the lump that had formed in your throat and began to sob into his chest. He ran a hand through your hair, calming you down.

“It’s okay,” he said, soothingly. “It’s alright. I got you now. I won’t let anyone else try to hurt you.”

~~~~~~

WANDA MAXIMOFF/SCARLETT WITCH:

You didn’t think of Tommy and Billy. You didn’t think about the perfect neighborhood Wanda had created. You didn’t even think about Vision, or the version of Vision she had created. Your only thoughts were getting to Wanda before Hayward and his people could.

She was horrified when she opened the door. Of course she was; you were stood at her doorstep, a ghost from the life she wanted to forget, holding a gun with blood splattered on your face.

“You have to get out of here,” you said before she could speak. “You have to break down that boarder and you need to get out of here now.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, her voice still in its sitcom mode. “Please leave before I call the police.”

You grabbed hold of her shoulders before she could walk away, startling her.

“Wanda, you have to listen to me. You know what’s happening here because you are controlling it all. I know that, everyone outside the Hex knows that. Including the S.W.O.R.D director Hayward, who is trying to break through your barrier right now to kill you. I know you don’t want to lose this perfect life you’ve made, but your are in real danger. You need to get out of here.”

It seemed like she was understanding. A hurt look passed over her face as she turned to look into the house where her perfect family was likely residing. She took a deep breath and turned back to you.

“Let’s go.”

[lomlwintersoldier]

Break Me Down

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: sexual tension, mentions of smut, swearing, slight angst in the beginning (SMUT TO COME) 

A/N: I wrote and rewrote this one a couple of times- I’m not entirely sure I’m happy with it but there will be more to come! I’m thinking 1-2 more (very smutty) parts. Enjoy :)

“Serena, please, where is this coming from?” Bucky yells, hands splayed as the brunette rushes from room to room, gathering her items and shoving them haphazardly into a duffel. 

“You’re so fucking blind, Bucky,” she shoots back, venom dripping off her words. 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” she hisses as she snags a flannel blanket off the couch. 

“Hey, wait, that’s my favorite bla--” Bucky starts but she whirls on him, rage apparent in her eyes, and he cuts himself off. “Okay, I guess...take it....,” he mutters. 

She shoves her way past him, having gathered all her things (and some of his) and stops before the front door, hand firmly grasping the knob as she turns to him, practically shaking.

“You’re in love with Y/N,” she spits, lip quivering.

“What?” He exclaims, reeling back. “No I’m n—“

“Cut the bullshit, Bucky. You don’t need to admit it to me, but at least admit it to yourself.”

“Have a nice life.” She yanks open the door and heads down the steps of his brownstone, practically leaping into the Uber she’d called for herself. Bucky still stands in his doorway, dumbfoundedly watching as the car’s tail lights disappear around the corner.

In love with Y/N? No fucking way in hell. You barely talked to or interacted with each other, only went on one or two missions together and you….you were always bringing home some other guy. There was no way he had feelings for you. Or vice versa.

Serena is long gone at this point so Bucky slowly steps back into his apartment, closing the door quietly.

In love with Y/N. He shakes his head. Serena could not be more wrong.

The next few weeks, Bucky is hyper-aware of your presence, Serena’s words echoing in his mind every time you’re in the room. He catches himself staring at you more often than would be deemed appropriate or necessary and has to force himself to look away and focus on something else, someone else. Anything else. 

In the gym, during meetings with the rest of the team, hell, even during the stupid bonding activities Tony came up with every week, you’d be in his eyeline. He’d catch you in a laugh, head falling back, eyes closing as the delicious sound escaped your lips, and he’d resist the urge to laugh with you. Or sometimes he’d glance at you from across the room as you spoke to Natasha or Steve, at the way words he couldn’t hear fell from your lips, and the way you played with your hair when you were bored, or how you cocked your head to the left when you were deep in thought. 

Then other times, his eyes would graze down the skin of your shoulders, bare in the tank tops you preferred to wear, to the toned muscle of your arms as they flexed and pulsed with the punches you landed so effectively on your target. His gaze would drift further downwards, sweeping over your collarbones, your hips, waist….

Then he’d force himself to look away. 

The thought begins to plague him. Did he always stare at you this often? Did he simply notice you more now that Serena had pointed out some “feelings” she thought she’d picked up?

Or maybe it was that he was always staring at you, he just hadn’t been as keenly aware of it as he was now.

Either way, he wasn’t sure what to do. Granted, his relationship with Serena wasn’t exactly compatible and it was short lived, but it was his first fling with a woman since he’d been....back. He wasn’t entirely sure what to call his “return to the normal world” but she’d approached him while on a night out with Steve and Sam a few months back, strutting over in her heels and little black dress and offered her number to him. She was pretty, surely not as pretty as you but….

Shit, he thinks to himself. Maybe there’s a grain of truth to what she said. 

~

The gym is empty as you stride inside, heading directly to the treadmill that rests in the back corner in the room. There are others closer to the door but you’ve always found comfort in solitude, in the dark, so you naturally gravitate to the most hidden corner of the room. You hop on it, setting the pace and timing of your run and then you’re off, music in your ear as you begin to run faster and faster. 

When you’re finished with the treadmill, you decide to run through some training exercises, practicing on a sand punching bag, but it’s always lacking. The best opponent is human and sparring should be as is real life, but with most of the team out running missions, you make do with the training bag. You punch and you kick, hitting as hard as you know how but grow frustrated with the lack of returned blows. 

You huff in annoyance as you slam the punching bag one last time, throwing it off it’s chain and across the room, just as the Winter Soldier walks past the door. 

“Y/N?” He questions as he steps into the training hall, feet quiet as a mouse. “You alright?” You take a deep breath and wipe the sweat from your brow, tearing your gaze from the fallen bag to the large figure before you. “Yeah, no, I’m good. I’m good.” “You sure?” He asks as he steps towards you. “You seem frustrated.” Forcing a laugh, you shake your head and head over to your gym bag. “I’m good, just annoyed at this punching bag for crapping out on me.” 

You nod towards the cylinder shape on the floor. His gaze follows yours before looking back at you, an unidentifiable expression on his face. 

“Do you need help training?”

You cock your head, pondering his request, before shaking your head. “No, I’m fine. I’ll just find Nat or Steve when they get back.” 

“Well, I mean....” He sets his bag down. “I’m here now.” “I’ll help you spar?” He says it like a question, unsure of how you’d react to his proposition, but a small smile crosses your face. “Okay,” you mumble. “Thanks.”

Bucky approaches you, a swagger to his step that matches the smirk on his face. His sweatpants ride low on his waist and his t-shirt is impossibly tight, but it shows off the deliciously sinewy muscles beneath the fabric, pulsing and flexing under the thin cloth. You swallow and tear your eyes away, certain that looking for any second longer would further ignite the fire you’re feeling in the pit of your stomach. You try to make yourself look busy by leaning down to tie your running shoes, although the strings are perfectly tied without any reason to check the laces.

“Are you ready?” Bucky asks, breaking you from your thoughts. Your gaze flashes up to him and you nod, tying your hair back. 

“Let’s do this,” you mutter as you crouch into a defensive position, arms at your face as he advances on you. His hulking figure is surprisingly agile and quick, as he lands his first blow, but you quickly throw your arm up, catching his arm and twisting it behind his back. Not to be outdone, he grabs your waist and throws you on your back, but you easily spring back on your feet, narrowly avoiding a well aimed kick to the abdomen. 

He hops back, surveying you and this time, you go on the offensive, trying to land as many blows as possible in rapid succession. He parries and blocks almost all but you land a few good punches on his cheek and stomach. A hiss escapes his lips from the pain, but he suddenly grabs your hand, mid punch, and forces you down with your neck while holding your arm, twisting it behind your back with a threat to dislocate your shoulder. 

“Submit,” he whispers in your ear. Bucky pushes your arm a little further and you groan in pain. Forcing your mind and body to swim through the pain, you swiftly tear your arm from his grasp and swing your legs up, giving him a solid kick to the ribs before throwing your other leg around his neck. You move so quickly he’s taken off guard and you slam him to the ground, practically laying on top of him.

His deep blue eyes glint as you make out the situation: your chest is pressed so tightly against his that you can feel his heartbeat hammering away and you realize your leg is pinned underneath his thick thigh so even if you wanted to move, you can’t. Both of you are breathing hard. A sly smile crosses your face and you lean down to his ear, lips just centimeters away from his cheek. 

“Never,” you whisper, letting your hair graze him as you lean back to look at him. 

His hands come up to your waist slowly as a playful smile hints at his lips. Faster than you can respond, he rolls the both of you in one swift movement so that he’s now on top of you, his body pressed between your legs and you swear you can feel a hardness from him. 

“Are you sure about that, sweetheart?” He murmurs. He has you fully pinned underneath him. Your breath mingles with his, heat pooling into your stomach, and even further down. 

As if he can sense what this is doing to you, he lightly rolls his hips against you, pelvis to pelvis. A surprised moan escapes your lips when he brushes against your sensitive clit, instinctively squeezing your thighs together, but they’re stopped by the muscly slab of a man between them. 

Bucky chuckles. His eyes seem to be practically staring straight through you as he leans down.

Oh god, he’s gonna kiss me, you think as he closes the distance. 

Suddenly you feel harsh stubble on your neck, nuzzling against your skin and then soft lips, planting tantalizingly gentle kisses. You feel the urge to moan again but just as you’re about to open your mouth, you feel teeth on the sensitive skin of your neck, a harsh bite before he pulls away.

“Bucky!” You gasp, gripping his biceps. Laughter erupts from his muscular form as he pushes off you, sitting back on his heels; your legs remain on either side of him. 

“What the hell was that?!” You exclaim as you push away from him, rising to your feet. 

“What, you didn’t like it?” He steps towards you until his chest is practically touching yours. With every breath, your breasts graze his shirt, both of you staring into the others eyes. His are heated, desire darkening them so wholeheartedly that you find yourself unable to break the tension between the two of you.

“I...I didn’t say that.” You whisper, trying to quell the warmth between your thighs. He holds your gaze for a moment longer, glancing down at your lips as if he’s daring himself to kiss you.

Then he pushes away from you, that damn smirk on his face as he abruptly breaks the moment off.

“Good.” 

He scoops up his discarded gym bag and starts out of the training room. “See you around, Y/N,” he calls out as he rounds the corner, disappearing down the hallway. 

A frustrated huff falls from your lips as you realize what just happened. You just had the most heated, intense moment you’ve had in a long time and he just...cut it off. 

That bastard. 

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

Part 2

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[burntmcnuggies]

Jealous Bird (Smut)

Jealous! Hawks x Reader

Warnings: sexual themes, strong language, feral Hawks, rut, unprotected sex, and a jealous birb, 18+ only please! :D

If you’d like the fluff version and not the smut, you can go here! ➪ Fluff <3

“Mornin’ chicken wing. What’re we doin’ for breakfast? I paid last time so this is allll on you.” Hawks sent a playful wink towards you as he landed beside you from his previous place in the air, holding his hand up and rubbing his index and thumb together as a sign he wanted you to pay. You rolled your eyes and rose your hand, mocking him. “Don’t forget who spent hours doing YOUR paperwork because a certain birdbrain was too lazy to do it.” Hawks held up his hands in defeat and slumped over, sticking out his bottom lip, over exaggerating his facial expressions. He whined and let his wings droop. “C’mon just one more time? Pretty please with your favorite pretty bird on top?”

“Stop dragging your wings, you’re gonna get them dirty.” You scolded and pat his back, slightly feeling how tense his shoulder were. You were about to offer to give him a massage later, not wanting your friend to have to sleep tonight with stiff muscles until you noticed something. His wings were almost glowing a whole new shade now. Such a vibrant and beautiful color. It was then realizing how close you were that you could hear a faint cooing bubbling from his throat. “...? The fuck are you doing Hawks?” He looked over confused and tilted his head. You grumbled at his lack of knowing exactly what he was doing. “Do you even have complete control over your body? You don’t even realize you’re whistling and cooing like some pigeon.”

You completely missed the pissed off look that crossed his face at your comment. He plastered on a cheeky smile and put his hands behind his back, picking his wings off the ground and tucking them firmly behind his back. “Nah, sometimes my bird-side comes out, especially during spring. God I go fuckin’ crazy. Sometimes it’s early and I have to take a whole week off a work!” You looked up to a couple trees you both passed while you were walking to your usual breakfast place, KFC —Although you always debate you want to go somewhere else. It was late winter, very close to spring, about March. You never kept up with the date. “Why do you take a whole week off?”

“People with animal quirks like me would understand. Just like Mirko! Haha, I’m sure she’s the worst right now bein’ it’s early March!” He laughed and put his hands out, his hands snaking into his pockets to firmly stick there. You pouted, wanting to know exactly what Hawks was talking about. You told Hawks everything, but he didn’t give you the same treatment. “I’ll just ask Mirko later then if you refuse to tell me.” Hawks quickly wagged his finger side to side in front of your face, his other hand being placed on his hip now. You were familiar with his body language and how much he loved using his hands. “Nah ah, chicken wing. You do that and she’s gonna pounce on you. You won’t see light for days!”

“Mirko has accidentally jumped on me before, it’s not like we haven’t sparred before! I can withstand some punches and kicks!” Hawks sulked again, his hands digging back into his pockets, displaying his annoyance that you weren’t listening to him. He just looked away and shrugged his shoulders back. “Just trust me, kiddo. It’d be for the best you didn’ see Mirko, especially at a time like this. I know how she feels.” You were starting to get irritated at his lack of response to your question, only dodging it and making you sit in suspense. Finally you gave up and decided to bring it back up later. “I’m just gonna stop asking, you’re obviously not gonna answer me are you?”

“Haha! Nope! You know me too well, (Y/N).” You both arrived at KFC, immediately greeted by the manager and many of Hawks’ fans who knew he came there a lot. Many asked for his autograph or a selfie, but he refused politely. “I’ll do some after I get some chicken! I’m starved!” Super fans offered to even pay for his food, to which he declined, saying that you were kind enough to have already offered to pay for his food. A total fat lie! He begged you to pay! You sent him a glare and proceeded just to order both your meals while Hawks spoke with his fans. “Well, guess I can start now! Who’s first?” After he saw you were paying and ordering, he began to sign autographs and take selfies that would no doubt be on social media in minutes.

“Man! I sure do have a lot of supportive and loyal fans! Must suck never bein’ noticed.” Hawks passively insulted your rank as a pro hero by taking a jab at your ranking. You were somewhere in the mid thirties. Not popular at all, especially in this part of Japan where Hawks was born. “At least I have fans who aren’t thirsty for me! Getting all wet and horny at night thinking of their hero Hawks taking them from behind~” You smirked and rose your hands shrugging your shoulders, before hugging yourself. You bit your lip, closing your eyes and squirming with a dreamy smile, mocking his thirsty fan girls. “Oh Hawks! Please I’ll do anything for you! Take me! Oh please fuck my sopping pussy with your big fat cock til I can’t move anymore! Mm! Cum inside me! Let me bare your kids!

You didn’t notice the way his wings trembled and his face reddened, his avian eyes widening as he watched you speak so lewdly. He shook it off quickly before he got out of control and leaned forward towards you smirking. “At least I have fans thirstin’ for my cock~ haven’t heard of anyone wantin’ your boring ass!” He gave a closed eye smile and brought his hands up to give you a big fat thumbs down. Your eye twitched and you remained silent, not having a comment. That was until you remembered a villain hitting on you not too long ago. “Well at least I’ve had a villain fawn over me! I can still remember it clearly! ‘Oh fuck, I would turn good to get a piece of that ass!’”

This time you noticed how his brows furrowed, and his wings fluffed up, almost as if he just had a whole shiver rake through his body. “When was this?” He asked, his head now resting in his right hand, staring intently. You thought about it for a minute, before taking a wild guess. “Ehh, about like a couple months ago.” This only put him in a more sour mood. You didn’t understand why he was acting so strange. Maybe it was what you talked about? Obviously you’d never talked about anything sexual with Hawks, but on the topic of thirty fans aching for him, you wanted to make jokes since he was always mocking you and making sly insults. “Sorry... I didn’t mean to make things awkward.”

“Nah, it’s fine. It’s not your fault. Well... it kinda is.” He admitted afterwards and smirked at you teasingly as if you would already know it was your fault. You frowned, about to open your mouth again before they called your number to get your food. You sighed and stood from your seat, walking over to the counter and retrieving the food, however, you were stopped by a man. He was young, about nineteen or twenty, quite handsome. “Excuse me miss, this may sound really straightforward and all but, you’re really pretty, and I was wondering if I could get your number?” You blushed a bit and looked away. You were a bit weary, but decided anyways. “I-I don’t know... I guess so. You seem nice. It’s-“

“Hey there, you gotta hobby of stealin’ other people’s things?” A gloved band came in contact with your shoulder, and a large shadow cast over you and the man in front of you. The man gasped in amazement at seeing the number two pro hero standing before him, it would’ve been a better experience if Hawks wasn’t threatening him with his looks and smart-ass remarks. “Huh? Oh! S-Sorry I didn’t-“ Hawks rudely interrupted the man, his gloved hand squeezing harder. His smile was obviously forced, and his feathers were starting to fluff up every second that past he stood in front of this guy. “Eh don’t worry about, you didn’ know. Now that ya do, don’t come near her again, Kay?”

And in the blink of an eye, Hawks pulled you away and out of the fast food restaurant. He aggressively pulled out the food and shoved yours against your chest, unwrapping his quickly and munching on it. “What the hell Hawks?! That was a bit much! He was being nice! It’s not like we’re dating or anything...” You trailed off, watching his wings twitch and fluff. You had noticed his strange behavior for a couple days now. His feathers would fluff up every now and again —you had no idea why— especially near men. “You should be thankin’ me chicken wing. I just saved you from a world of heartbreak.”

“That’s not your place to decide, Hawks. I don’t intervene when women ask for your phone number.” You crossed yours arms and turned your nose up at his childish behavior. He didn’t respond, finishing his breakfast and throwing away his trash in a nearby can. His hands slipping back into his pockets, displaying that he was closing himself off from you now. Of course, you began to become irritated at his lack of voice, but you decided to let it go and not pressure him further. “You’ve been acting weird lately ya know? I’m getting worried...”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.” Oh how you hated his emotionless voice, so bland and robotic, it honestly pained you. His eyes were sharp, quick to notice your saddened expression. Hawks sighed heavily and stuck his bottom lip out, wrapping his arm around your arms and pulling you close to him. “I’m one of the top five pros, you don’ gotta worry about me, chicken wing. Cheer up.” You smiled and shoved him off, only a bit happy his cocky and arrogant behavior had returned. The Hawks you knew and cherished. “You know, I hate you sometimes, but I can’t help but love you at the same time.”

“Who doesn’t love me? The sexiest bird-man around.” He smirked and gave you a flirtatious look, a small sound bubbling from his throat similar to a whistle. You returned his smirk with a teasing smile. You were almost immune to his flirty charm, key-word; almost. Hawks was definitely an attractive man. Those piercing eyes with dark markings around them, only making the color pop and glow. His messy hair swept back and disheveled. Let’s not forget about those bushy eyebrows of his, they almost look like feathers from his wings, only a beautiful ashy blonde color just like his hair. You could probably do without his egotistical attitude and vulgar tongue, but that was still all part of his charm. “Move!”

You were surprised by Hawks suddenly grabbing you and jerking you out of the way of an attack from a villain. You were right there in his chest, feeling his warmth, hearing the harsh thumping of his heart at the thought of almost losing you. Before he had a chance to say what he wanted. “Well there goes our leisurely patrol. And more paper work on our desks.” Hawks grunted in annoyance and took to the air. You finally regained your composure and got into your fighting stance. “Ready to kick some ass Hawks?! Whoever lands the final blow is treated to lunch!”

“Heh, you don’t stand a chance! Show me whatcha got!”

—

“Thanks Edgeshot... I totally owe you one.” You scratched their back of your neck with an awkward smile as you stood in front of the current number four hero. While Hawks was on the assault, eager to show off and boost his already high ego, you tried to get a sneak attack in, but the villain noticed you. They were about to attack you, before Edgeshot came and got you out of the way. Hawks didn’t take this too well. He became angry immediately and finished off the villain in a matter of seconds. “No thanks necessary, (H/N). I was just doing my job.” You hated being in debt to someone more than anything, so you quickly threw out an offer.

“Please! Let me take you out for drinks! Honestly! I’ve gotta do something! I-“ Suddenly a large shadow cast over you for the second time that day. You turned around and shrunk down noticing Hawks’ wings spread wide, fluffed to the brim and shaking in anger. His face was red and his eyes were narrowed at Edgeshot. He was angry at himself for not being able to protect you himself, and at Edgeshot for rescuing you and holding you close. That was supposed to be him. “H-Hawks? What’s wron-“ Edgeshot was the one who answered your main question earlier before Hawks could even get another word out. The answer shocked you to your core, finally understand why he was acting so weird.

“He’s showing his dominance, and in a public place no less, how careless.” You looked at the ninja hero confused before you turned your attention back to Hawks. Dominance? His wings were such a beautiful vibrant color now. A shade of red you’d never seen them before on him. A sudden flash captured your eyes, taking your attention away from his beautiful wings. The media was eating this up. Soon it would reach the Hero Public Safety Commission and the president would not like this one bit. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). But I’m impatient, I can’t wait any longer.” Your eyes widened as your attention was fully back on Hawks now. You opened your mouth about to ask what he meant, but something was preventing you from doing so.

Hawks’ lips were firmly placed upon your own, his bright red rings wrapping around the both of you to shield you from any watchful eyes wanting to take a peek at you. His lips were soft, his hands finding themselves on your waist, pulling you flush against his body. You were shocked, your eyes wide, heart hammering wildly out of your chest at the sudden action. Slowly, you began to kiss him back, falling victim to his charm and passionate ways. He was quickly heating up the kiss, but you placed your hands on his chest firmly, pushing him away just enough to separate your lips. He was chasing your lips, desperate to get another kiss. “Hawks what-“

“I’m tired of waiting. I can’t fucking hold it in any longer. I know I’m impatient, but you make it so fucking hard to hold back sometimes.” You opened your mouth about to question, but the only thing that came from your mouth was a terrified scream having Hawks launch you both into the air and fly quickly through the skies. You held onto him for dear life, screaming at him to put you down. You nearly hugged the ground when Hawks reached a luxury penthouse apartment. “What the hells the matter with y- mmm!” He forced his lips onto you quickly, roughly grabbing your body and pulling you against him. His wings still outstretched and flapping slightly.

His feathers went to open the sliding glass door, pushing you inside while still having your lips firmly connected. He was hungry, eating your mouth like it was the only thing he’d had in years. His tongue forced its way passed your lips, dominating the inside of your mouth with his fiery passion. Your hands clawed at his fluffy tan jacket, pulling him closer, your body now aching to be touched more by him. He was just so intoxicating. It was starting to get hard to breath after a while, and you tried to pull yourself away, but he moved with you, keeping your lips firmly together. He only parted away to growl out an order to you. “Breath through your nose.”

His hands were on you again, thick gloved hands trailing down your waist to grab a handful of your tasty ass. A squeak flew out of your lips, allowing him deeper access to your mouth than he already had. You couldn’t deny the dampness beginning to build down there. Your panties were now wet with your slick, making you slightly uncomfortable with the way the damp fabric rubbing against your folds. “God.” He breathed against your lips, not even giving you a second to catch your breath before he was on you again. His hands quickly got towork on getting your shirt off. “I can smell your fuckin’ arousal. Fuck it’s intoxicating. You drive me fucking crazy!”

“H-Hawks! W-Wait!” You voiced your want to stop and talk whatever he was feeling out, but just seeing that lustful passionate look in his eyes, it was a lost cause. His pupils were blown with lust, his breathing heavy and ragged, desperate to start touching you again. “It’s your fault... all your fuckin’ fault it came early. Now be a good baby bird and take responsibility.” You didn’t have time to refuse before he was on you again, his lips finding their way harshly to your neck, his teeth lightly biting. You jerked your head to the side, moaning softly at the feeling of his canines digging into your skin. Your heart was hammering harshly against your chest feeling his thick glove drift up your shirt, roughly grabbing your boobs, groaning at the squishy feeling in his hands. “I didn’ want you to see me like this... but after all the shit that’s happened today... I can’t hold back. Not anymore. That was out the door whenever you started mocking my thirty fans.”

He pulled your shirt over your head quickly, pushing you back into his couch while his hands grabbed your waist, his tongue sliding across the top of your breasts. A shiver raked through your body, low pants leaving your mouth as you watched his mouth move lower. In a flash of red, a feather came up and sliced your bra open, being the impatient man he is, he didn’t want to struggle with getting it off you just to see those perky nips of yours. You were quick to cover yourself, too embarrassed showing your best friend your body like that. It’s not like you would ever look at each other the same after this. A strong grip enclosed around your wrists, Hawks grabbing your wrists and pinning them by your sides.

“H-Hawks...” Your breathy whisper of his name drove him almost mad. He breathed onto one of your nipples, hot breath fanning over the entirety of your perky buds. You squirmed in discomfort and whimpered, your body betraying your mind, desperately wanting his mouth on you. “Hah... I knew you wanted me just as much as I fucking wanted you. How long, how long have you wanted me? Tell me. Tell me how much you crave me right now, ‘cause I can’t get enough!” He drew out the flat of his tongue, running it over your nipple, all while his golden eyes stared right at you expressions. Your legs clinched together tightly feeling a tingling sensation spread from his lick. “Hawks no, mmm~ you cant...”

“I can, and I will, you’re mine, and I’m not lettin’ you out of my apartment until I’ve marked you as mine, and you’ve got so much fucking cum inside you that you’ll already look pregnant.” Your eyes widened and you jerked away from him. Pregnant?! Was he out of his mind?! You weren’t even dating yet! Sure you’ve had feelings for him for a long time now but this was all moving too fast! “What did you expect? I’m gonna breed you so fuckin’ good. So fucking good. You won’t be able to think about anyone else but me.” Now it all clicked. What he said earlier, how he was acting now. Why hadn’t you noticed it sooner? He practically told you everything this morning, you were just too stupid to consider it.

Mating season.

That’s why his feathers had been brighter, the cooing and whistling coming from his throat. The displays of dominance to other men who you conversed with. Courting traits for a male trying to attract a female. You weren’t dumb, animals mated to do one thing, and one thing only. Reproduce. Their instinct immediately is to find a female and mate with them, reproduce and leave. However, this wasn’t always the case in some. “Fuck, you smell so damn good down here. Your pussy’s so wet for me already. And I haven’t even done anything, yet. Looks like you’ve become a thirsty fan, huh? Wanting my cum deep inside you and gettin’ wet while I manhandle you? Fuck, you’re so damn sexy.”

“Hawks m-more~” You were hesitant to ask him for more, worrying for your poor body and your sensitive heart. Only sensitive for him. You accepted your feelings for him, struggling to voice your new found notion to him. He growled lowly in response to your request, hands hastily pulling your pants off in one fell swoop. He was absolutely feral. “I wanna eat you out so fuckin’ bad. Your sweet pussy, sopping snd beggin’ to be stuffed, fuck.” He has a particularly vulgar tongue most of the time, but never like this. He always expressed how hard it was for him to hold back, but this was a completely different side of him you’d never seen. It was like he was feral. A complete animal. “Oh, I’m gonna tongue fuck the shit out of you. You’ll cum all over my tongue, just like how you’re gonna squirt all over my cock.”

He stood up quickly, his feathers dispersing to shrug his jacket off before he pulled his tight shirt over his head. Just like that his wings came back to life, flapping slightly as a readjustment. His gloves were removed as well, now you could feel his bare hands roaming over your exposed body. He dropped to his knees, spreading your legs and putting your inner thighs around his head, but not too tight. He approached your entrance, a damp spot clearly evident on your fabric panties. His fingertips dug into your thighs, pushing his face flush against your panties. He let out a breathy moan against your wet folds protected by your panties, subconsciously humping the couch for even the slightly bit of pressure against his hard cock.

“Hah, fuuuuck. I’m so horny, everything’s so hot. Let’s get these cute little panties off. Don’t wanna rip ‘em now. Need something to hold my cum inside your pretty pussy so you bare my kids.” Hawks grabbed your panties and pulled them down your legs and onto the floor. He kneeled on his knees in front of the couch, his head between your legs, your feet propped against the coffee table, and your hands gripping the couch anywhere you could, desperately wanting to grab his messy hair. “Oh god...” He moaned at the sight of your sopping pussy, your slick slowly dripping onto the couch much to your embarrassment.

“D-Don’t stare dumba- H-Hawks!” You cried out his name in surprise once he drove his face deep into your crotch. His nose firmly pressed against your sensitive clit, his tongue diving deep into your cunt without warning. Your hands dove straight to his hair, pulling at his blonde locks trying to keep yourself composed from his pleasure. “Oh fuck! Oh Hawks! Sh-Shit! Mmm baby yes~” Your head was spinning, his teeth lightly pressing against yours folds. It didn’t help anything with all of the lewd smacking and slurping of his tongue eating you out so damn good. “Ahh! N-No Wait! Your tongue! It’s so... Ngh! Deep!”

“Keep moaning for me, just like that. Moan for me and don’t you dare fuckin’ stop.” The vibrations of his lips against your sensitive pussy cause you to flinch and squirm against his sinful touch, fingers pulling at his hair harder. An unexpected groan escaped his lips as he went back to work, tongue swirling and digging around, searching for that one spot that would make your world come undone. You continued to moan and call out his name, instinctively pushing his head deeper. His movements were quick and sloppy, savoring every lick of your delicious fluids, groaning lewdly against your pussy’s lips once he found that spot. “Oh fuck! Right there! Mm~! More! Please a-again!”

He ruthlessly began to abuse that spot, pushing his tongue harshly against it and attempting to massage it. His fingers poked and prodded at your insides, pushing his fingers past and replacing his tongue with those long slim fingers of his. Your head was now thrown back against the couch, releasing his hair and clawing at the couch for dear life, desperately clinging to anything you could grab. You moaned at the foreign feeling, forgetting what if even felt like to have sex. You had a fleeting experience in your last year of high school, but that was it. One time thing. Now here you are doing it again, with your best friend no less, or were you even friends anymore? His fingers worked on making sure you were prepared for him. You were enjoying yourself, being pleasured by the man you’ve hidden your feelings from for years. Him however...

His cheeks were dusted pink, sweat trickling down his forehead with some of his curly blonde locks sticking to his face. His breathing was ragged, heavy and stuttered with a thick sense of desire behind it. His wings were quivering, the color so vibrant it could rival a neon sign. Now you didn’t know much about their nature, but you could tell just by looking at his wings that he was very excited and desperate. “Gotta get you nice and prepared for me right, chicken wing? Gotta get you ready to take my fat cock.” His lewd words made your world just so much hotter. You could feel your arousal leaking down your pussy to your puckered hole and down onto Hawks’ expensive couch. “Ahh! St-Stop! I’m-Im gonna cum! Oh god I’m gonna cum!”

He jerked his fingers out quickly, grunting in the process as he lustfully stared at his fingers coated in your juices. He breathed out a moan while he kicked away all your juices, growling lowly in possessiveness. “Sorry chicken wing but... I want you to cum on my cock. I want to feel you clampin’ down on me, cumming so hard you faint. Screaming my name at the top of your lungs so that everyone knows that you’re mine! All fuckin’ mine.” Your eyes widened seeing him sit up more, pushing his pants down the rest of the way before kicking them off, leaving him in only his red boxers. His arousal was definitively clear, noticing how the head of his cock peeked out from the waistband, leaking pre-cum, tip red and aching. The sight was undeniable steamy, your legs clenching together with your thighs slowly rubbing together. “That’s right baby. Already thirstin’ for my cock, aren’t you? Fuckin’ slut. My slut. Hah... fuck I gotta be inside you.”

He pushed his boxers down, revealing his aching hard-on. Balls lulling down, full of cum, ready to be emptied out inside of your tight pussy. Without thinking, you sat up slowly coming close to his erection. You could smell his heavily masculine and musky scent from where you were, but you needed more of him. You sadly didn’t get far before he grabbed your head and pushed you back. “Nah ah, baby. Not today. I’m too fuckin’ horny and desperate to let you suck my cock today. Next time.” Next time? There was going to be a next time? Your heart hammered harshly knowing your long time friend and crush planned on doing all of this again with you. “Hang on tight, dove. It’s gonna be a long bumpy ride.”

“W-Wait!” You watched in worry as Hawks pinned you down, spreading your legs and positioning himself. You hadn’t taken him seriously, but now you regret it. “P-Protecti- Ahn~!” You couldn’t even protest once he pushed himself inside, moaning loudly at the sinful heat that engulfed his cock, heating up his entire body more than it already was. His wings flapped slowly, occasionally twitching as he impatiently waited for you to get used to his size. The cool breeze sorta calmed you down, taking your attention away from the pain nestled in your lower regions. “Fuck, can I move? Please, please let me move.”

Good god did he sound fucking hot begging.

“Yeah, y-you can- MMM! Fuck!” You threw your head back, pleasure spreading through your body. As soon as he heard the word “yeah” he immediately got to work on fucking your cunt until you were overflowing with his cum. You harshly bit your lip, holding in your embarrassing noises from his ears, however, he had no problem not hiding them from you. “Fuck, fuck, hah... don’t hide your moans from me. I wanna fuckin’ hear ‘em. Let everyone know who’s fucking you, who you belong to, and that you’re m-mine! Fuck!” He breathlessly moaned against your face, ramming himself into you repeatedly. Your hands were now on his back, clawing down his muscular back. He growled lowly into your ear, breathily cursing. “D-Damnit! Can’t... f-find it! Ahh... hah... fuck chicken wing, fuck yeah!”

His husky grunts were dangerously bordering animalistic. His pants were ragged, hips never faltering in movement, his wings flapping slightly and quivering every now and again. “Yeah baby? You like me fucking you? I’m gonna breed you so fuckin’ good. You’ll bare m-my clutch! You’re mine, ahhaahh! Fuck!” You were crying his name, clenching his back with your legs squeezing on either side of his waist. His cock was hammering against a bundle of nerves in your body you didn’t even know you had. “Hawks! Oh god! Please! Slow down-!” He pulled out quickly, leaving you a whimpered mess without that full feeling in your stomach. He flipped you over, hastily ramming himself back in you from behind, his wild thrusts getting harder. “Yeah, fuck yeah! There it is! Yeah! Gonna cum right in that womb if yours, you’re gonna be so round and pregnant with my kids! N-Nobody’ll ever come near you again! They’ll know you’re mine! My dove! My b-baby!”

His hot hands pushed your lower back, slamming you down against the couch and brutally fucking your tight pussy like no tomorrow, animalistic growls leaving his lips, teeth burying into your shoulder and neck. He was marking you as his. You were covered in his scent now, other men wouldn’t dare come near you now that you were filled with Hawks’ pheromones. “I’m gonna cum! Ahh! Hah! Hahn fuck I’m cumming Hawks! I’m cumming!” He rose his hand and smacked your ass harshly, the red tingling sensation spreading through your cheek. It felt so damn good. He grasped his hand over your stomach and pushed harshly. “You’re cumming, yeah? Gonna cum all over my cock? Gonna try and milk me are ya? Milk me, baby! Milk me so damn good and get every last drop of my fuckin’ cum in that ripe fertile womb of yours!”

“Hawks! Hah! Hah! Oh I’m cumming! Nhhh I’m c-cum...ming! Ahh!” You came harshly all over his still thrusting cock, your creamy juices spreading all over his cock and slipping down his balls full of his child baring cum. He didn’t stop yet, still bucking his hips through your orgasm even though you were still so sensitive. “Ohho! You’re such a good girl! So good! Fuck baby! Yeah, keep squeezin’ me! Keep fuckin’ squeezin’ meee! Agh!” He groaned deeply into your ear, desperately panting and grunting into your ear. You cried, physical tears running down your cheeks at the intensity of his brutal thrusts on your aching sore cunt. He slapped your ass again, squeezing it tightly afterwards with his nails creating crescents in your smooth skin. “F-Fuck I’m close! Yeah you want my cum? Tell me you want my cum deep inside you! C’mon baby, say it!”

“I want your cum Hawks! Mmm! Please! Please I want it! I wanna carry your kids! I want to be bred by you! Ah hahn! I can’t! Please!” You immediately regretted your words. His pace had become quicker, harsh pounds becoming desperate. You could feel his balls slapping against your inner thighs, a red itchy tingling bubbling up. His hands came around your neck, the other going to harshly rub your clit. You couldn’t contain the endless moans, cries, and screams of his name, his hero name to be precise. “Oh god! Oh my god! Feels so good! Mmm! Hawks, I-I’m gonna cum again!” He pants against your ear, snarling and growling about how good and round he’s gonna make you.

“Fuck I’m cumming! Hah, fuck!” He grunted loudly and released heavy shaky breathes, his raging hard on twitching inside your now gooey insides. You came harshly, your walls clamping down on him. He was fully embedded within you, balls pressed firmly against you, his scarlet wings twitching and flapping, stretching widely suddenly stiffening up. You could feel the warm spurts of his cum deep inside, forcing a low moan past your swollen lips. His wings happily drooped once he had finished, his head now hanging low, trying to catch his breath. “H-Hawks... I love you.” You finally admitted to him, watching intently to see his reaction to your words. He laughed huskily, his golden eyes raising back up to meet yours, still cloudy with lust. “You fuckin’ better. You’re my dove, now and forever, ya hear that? Now...”

“Let’s make sure you get pregnant.”

—

Pain was the first thing you were met with the morning after your undeniably passionate night with Hawks. Feathers were scattered all over the place, large blankets thrown everywhere, and some of his clothes were thrown over you. Incredibly confused, you sat up but quickly jolted back down as a searing hot pain shot through your body from your hips. “Woah there, chicken wing! Relax, you must be in a lot of pain. I don’t blame you after the harsh fucking I put you through last night.” The man who had put you in such pain walked into the room, shirtless and only in a pair of boxers. The bed dipped slowly as he sat on the bed, handing you a cool glass of water. You painfully sat up, gently taking the glass from his rough hands, thanking him quietly. “What the hell did you do while I was out?”

The pro hero looked around the room before coming to lay eyes on you again, scratching the back of his neck with a faint blush on his cheeks. “I uh, made a nest!” He answered bashfully. It was an incredibly rare sight to see him embarrassed. Uncomfortable sometimes, but never embarrassed. You looked around the mess and raised a brow. “Nest? Why the hell did you-“ You stopped once you remembered what had happened last night between the both of you and what you had realized. You blushed and threw the covers off yourself quickly, horrified at the sticky mess dripping from your insides, still. Just how many rounds had you gone with him last night? “Hah, Sorry. I just couldn’ hold myself back. My ruts are really bad, which is why I always take a week off.”

“You didn’t have to cum inside me this much Hawks...” You said and cringed at all the fluids dripping out of your abused cunt. You didn’t notice, but his wings shivered, ruffling up a bit at the sight of your leaky pussy, until they settled down again. “It’s your fault ya know? Makin’ me so damn jealous I had to claim you for myself. Claim you before someone else took you.” Your cheeks reddened slightly, and you looked to the side, your heart racing. Of course, he could feel your sensitive heart racing, and slowly leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. Your eyes widened in surprise, melting into his sweet kiss. There was no sexual intention behind the kiss, only a reassurance that you didn’t have to worry about speaking your true feelings, that he already knew you loved him. “You’re my baby bird now. You’ve upgraded chicken wing. Congrats.”

“How many levels are there with you?” You laughed, enjoying this sweet moment with your new lover. He laughed and hopped into bed beside you, pulling you close to him in your little nest. His hands ran over your flat stomach slowly, cooing and flapping his wings lightly. “A lot more, step up your game, baby. You good though? How do you feel knowin’ you have the most popular hero’s cum inside of you. Mixin’ with all your fertile eggs to make my fuckin’ kids.” He growled possessively and wrapped his wings around you protectively, kissing your head and over your face. You couldn’t help but turn red at his words, embarrassed by how blunt he is. “Do... do you really want to have kids Hawks? I mean... we just started... d-dating...”

“Who cares the order, as long as you’re mine and that little bundle of feathers inside you is all mine, order can go fuck itself.” You rolled your eyes, flicking his arm gently. His whistling and cooing got louder the more he cuddled you, his lips peppering your face with kisses. “Ya know they already have story’s about us? They got my whole ‘top bird’ thing on video.” He seemed quite happy with it. The president of the HPSC would not be happy about this once she found out. But knowing Hawks, he couldn’t have given two fucks about it. He raised your chin, smirking smugly. “I also tweeted that we’re dating and that you’re mine, and that we’re gonna have chicks, and that all those other guys better stay away or I’ll kill ‘em.”

You rolled your eyes. “You jealous bird...”

[khaotic-kitsunes]

Hm, how about canonverse Dabi with a fellow Villain Reader who's really sensitive to the cold bc of their water based Quirk?

Hi! Thank you for the ask, it was a lot of fun to write! Enjoy!

~Ki

"Dabi!" You protested, as he simply laughed at you and your suffering. You huffed, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He'd just stolen the only blanket you had. It was winter, and the weather had been getting colder by the day, which was very bad for you.

Today was the first day below freezing, and you were on the verge of doing the same. After all, your body was made up of almost entirely water, making you much more sensitive to the cold than your average person.

"Aw, come on, Doll." He teased you, still holding the blanket away from you. You stuck your tongue out at him. "Why are you so mad?"

"I'm fr-freezing!" You proclaimed, growing more frustrated and more cold. Of course, you'd been paired with the scarred villain since the weather turned, since theoretically, his fire would keep you safe and not completely useless. But it seemed that fate had other plans, and Dabi was feeling particularly obnoxious during this mission.

It was a simple scouting mission. Nothing too important or noteworthy... Maybe that was it...

"If you're just bored go burn down a building or something." You snapped, making another grab for the blanket, but you stumbled on your own feet, before you could even reach it.

"Woah, you're clumsier than I thought." He laughed, but when you didn't get up, wincing at your foot, he crouched down to help you.

You were cradling the foot that you'd tripped on, so he'd made to look at it. His eyes dulled, as he realized just what he'd done. You'd been complaining about the cold since you left the hideout, and Dabi was fed up with it...

"I didn't-" He breathed, unable to finish. He shook any hesitation from his mind, quickly wrapping you back up in the blanket, and picking you up. He was careful of your foot, which now had a thin layer of frost over it, which he could see at the ankle. He just now realized that your lips weren't soft or beautiful anymore, but cracked and as blue as his flames. Your ears and nose were also among the first to be affected by the cold. He didn't realize you had been serious.

He knew the consequences of quirks could be bad, but... He didn't realize it was this far out of your own control...

Water was by no means light, but Dabi couldn't be bothered to care. He heated up his own body, coddling you to your chest.

You squeaked, but couldn't resist the warmth of his body.

You sighed in relief, as your body began to warm back up. He took you into an alley, and gently set you down on some steps. He held his hand over your foot, a dull heat radiating from it.

He was silent. You stared at him, watching him, as the frost slowly melted again.

"Thank you." You said, when you'd regained all the feeling in your body.

"You didn't say you would actually freeze." He said, all too quietly.

"I was built for warmer climates." You shrugged. "I tried to get Shigaraki to pair you with Twice and Toga, this time, but-"

"I'll take care of it, next time." He interrupted you, looking into your eyes.

His eyes were so intense, as they always were. They were frigid and cold, and yet held fire in them... You'd often caught yourself staring into his eyes, but now, it seemed you couldn't pull your gaze away.

"Are you feeling better?" He asked, gently brushing his hands over your blanket, warming it up to combat the frigid air. Admittedly, Dabi had so much fire beneath skin designed to protect an ice quirk, he didn't really even start to feel the cold until most people began to hit frost bite.

You nodded. He picked you up again, despite your protests, withdrawing his heat when you tried to flail out of his grip. You gave up, and let him carry you.

You then noticed that he'd turned away from the target, headed back towards the base.

"What about the mission?"

"Hand job can suck it. You told him you'd be a liability and he didn't listen, he can take responsibility for this."

You blinked, sputtering, but no protests ever found their way to your lips.

You sighed, and allowed your head to fall on his chest, taking his his warmth.

Dabi smirked, softly, turning up the temperature, just a bit, to keep you closer to him... It was... nice.

He didn't want to admit it, and wouldn't out loud, but it had been a long time since someone had simply just been in his presence. There was no hurt, no yells, just the touch of another person.

How long had it been since he'd really embraced a person?

He tried not to think about it, but he couldn't help himself from walking a bit slower. Once you were back at base, with a heating unit, you would no longer need him... And he didn't want to expose you to the temperature any longer but... Well, he could keep the cold away, couldn't he?

So he could let himself touch you a little longer, right?

Alas, the base did eventually draw closer, and Dabi couldn't exactly turn around or go a different route. You would get suspicious.

He reluctantly opened the door. Everyone else was out on their own missions, too. He looked around. He'd only ever bothered to memorize his own room, and didn't know where yours was.

"Which way is your room, again?" There was no response. He looked down at you, but you were merely curled up into his chest, eyes closed, and breath soft and deep. A sliver of a smile and a sinking pit of anxiety crossed his being. You'd fallen asleep.

He sighed, muttering something or other about how troublesome you were, though he didn't believe in it, himself, and took you to his own room. He wasn't about to go searching though everyone's rooms for yours, the Gods only know what's in those.

He gently placed you in his bed, tucking you tightly in the covers. You whined slightly, when his warmth disappeared.

He figured you'd be fine, sitting on the edge of his bed, and reaching for his phone, but he felt you shift.

You'd rolled in your sleep, arm partially stretched out... For him, he realized.

Even at room temperature, it probably was still too cold. He sighed, moving the blankets, and slipping under with you.

He held you in his arms, letting his body do the rest. You sighed in content, curling back up into his chest.

Dabi tried not to think about how perfectly you fit in his arms, or about how your head was tucked just beneath his own, or about how you smelled like the sky just before it rained.

When you'd finally awoken, you were warm and well rested. You were in no hurry to open your eyes, until you felt something shift about you. You blinked open an eye, to see purple scarring. Both eyes opened wide, and you scrambled backwards.

This was not possible, as Dabi's arms were wrapped tightly around you. Feeling you struggling in his arms, Dabi was also awoken from the slumber he hadn't intended to fall into.

He blinked down at you, a sly smirk on his face. "Still cold, sweetcheeks?" He teased. Thought this might not have been the best first response, it was all Dabi, still tired, could come up with.

"Could you let me, go, please?" You asked. He shrugged, lifting the arm that was over you. You scrambled back.

The last thing you remembered was Dabi carrying you back to base.

"What happened?" You demanded. Dabi yawned before sitting up, in no hurry to explain himself.

"Well, let's see. You started turning into a popsicle, and I helped you warm up." You gave him a hard look. He chuckled, holding his hands up in defense. "You fell asleep on the way to base, and I couldn't be bothered to find your room. Not only did you proceed to steal all the blankets off my bed, you refused to let me go." He smirked at you. He didn’t reveal how good it made him feel or how it almost hurt when you’d pulled away from him so eagerly.

You flushed at his words. Dabi raised his hand to feel your cheek, making sure you weren't still cold. Despite his teasing actions and words, he was actually quite worried. You flushed deeper. Dabi dropped his hand. Embarrassment, not cold, then. Good.

He stood from the bed. "Well, I'm gonna go bother Handyman, stay here. Or not." He grabbed his jacket off his floor, tossing it at you. "Don't get cold, again." With that he left the room.

You remained where you were, stunned. You hesitantly grabbed his jacket. You buried your face in it, unable to resist the draw of the cinnamon and bonfire smell you'd awoken to. You breathed in, despite the embarrassment

"It smells like him." You mumbled to yourself.

[fruitcoops]

hi eve ! i was wondering if you could write a fic where coops are at home just doing stuff and suddenly the electricity goes out because of a thunderstorm like it did that night at dumo's ? and coops just sit there and reminisce ? (man i hope that is how you spell that word, english isn't my first language hahah) idk i just thought that would be neat

There isn’t a lot of sitting and reminiscing, but this prompt was just too cute to pass up. Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for making out (courtesy of an anon who was enjoying the hot tub fic) and mentioned future spice

Remus’ hand was halfway to the popcorn bowl when the house went dark. The tv shut off, the dishwasher went silent, and the comforting hum of the fridge disappeared. “Uh. Hmm.”

There was a rustle next to him. “Did the power just go out?”

“I think so. Hang on a second.” Remus stood and padded toward the living room window, wrapping his arms around himself to stave off the chill as their heating cut off; the coming winter would be harsh. Outside, he saw nothing but a row of dark houses and car headlights in the distance under the place traffic lights should have been. Frost crept along the corner of the windowsill as his eyes adjusted. “Yeah, our whole block is out. There’s probably nothing we can do except wait for it to come back.”

Sirius hummed from the couch and opened his arms. “Nothing?”

“Not a thing,” Remus sighed, grateful for the darkness hiding his smile as he settled back down.

Sirius laughed and pulled him down by the arm, spreading his thighs so Remus could lay between them on his chest. “I’ve got an idea.”

“Do you?” Remus asked, only inches from his mouth.

“Mhmm. Can’t have you getting bored, can we?”

“Oh, no, definitely n—“ Remus’ words were cut off by warm lips and he smiled as Sirius’ tongue swept forward. A hand snuck up his shirt and he nibbled Sirius’ lower lip, drawing a low laugh from him; Remus set his elbows on either side of his head and wove his fingers into Sirius’ soft hair.

“Off,” Sirius mumbled with a tug to his tshirt.

“Pushy, pushy, pushy,” Remus tsked, though he separated for long enough to reach behind his neck and pull it over his head. The fabric of Sirius’ long-sleeve rubbed against his chest as he laid down and muffled a moan into his mouth, feeling him melt as Remus tugged his hair lightly. “Yours, too.”

Sirius’ pout was almost audible. “I’ll get cold.”

“I can keep you warm,” Remus said with a sly smile, drumming his fingers on Sirius’ ribcage. He skimmed a thumb over his nipple and laughed when Sirius’ breath caught. “Please?”

Sirius huffed and wiggled around until Remus—being the most accommodating boyfriend in history, thank you very much—sat back to straddle his waist and occupied himself by tracing Sirius’ abs until strong hands hauled him back down into a fervent kiss. “I love it when you ask me for things.”

“Hmm, really?”

“Makes me feel useful.” One hand came up to cradle Remus’ cheek, but the other wandered down his spine and only stopped once Sirius had a solid handful of his ass to knead.

Remus let out a harsh exhale into the side of his neck and pulled Sirius’ thigh up, relishing in his soft noise as he began rubbing the outside through his sweatpants. “This feels familiar,” he practically purred.

“Does it?”

“Making out in the middle of a dark and stormy night with no lights on? Now, where have we done that before?”

He felt Sirius’ pulse give a hard thud under his own. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“One year.” Remus felt some of his blinding want smooth out into affection and kissed the corner of Sirius’ mouth. “And a couple weeks, of course.”

“We should celebrate—“ Sirius nipped his lip and pushed down on the small of Remus’ back. “—more often.”

“Monthly anniversaries.”

“Does this mean we get to have sex tomorrow night after I get a hat trick?”

“It’s Kasey’s birthday party tomorrow.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Absolutely.”

“Fuck yeah,” Sirius said under his breath, though Remus could feel him smiling. They broke their kiss for a moment to laugh, but quickly returned, much slower than before.

“If we do this right, I get to wake up when you come back to bed and kiss you stupid without any warning.”

“Deal.”

“And you have to cuddle me all night.”

“I was going to do that anyway.”

“Just making sure.”

Remus tucked his face beneath the hinge of Sirius’ jaw and breathed deep as he sucked a small hickey into the shallow dip—he smelled like buttery popcorn and laundry detergent and home. His broad hands ghosted across Remus’ back before pulling him away by his hair to press another kiss to his mouth; he gasped as his stomach swooped. “What do you want to do?”

“This,” Remus managed between kisses. There was an urgency, but not for anything he could name. He wanted the closeness and the quiet of the night.

Sirius waited for a moment. “Anything else?”

He was tempted to say yes, but that would involve more fumbling and possibly even—god forbid—leaving the couch. Remus shook his head and tilted Sirius’ chin up with his finger. “Just this.”

“Okay,” Sirius said, sinking back into the cushions. He smiled into Remus’ next kiss and wrapped both arms around his back; he was hard against Remus’ hip, but didn’t grind into his thigh at all.

“I love you,” Remus mumbled.

“Je t’aime aussi.”

“Are you comfy?”

“Hmm, let me think.” Sirius’ mouth trailed down his cheek and neck before settling near his collarbones. “Laying on my couch, in the dark, with my incredibly sexy boyfriend on top of me just waiting to be kissed after putting up with me for over a year…yeah, I’m pretty comfy.”

“I don’t put up with you,” Remus scoffed, leaning his head to the side so Sirius had more space to work. “I love you. There’s a difference.”

He closed his eyes as tongue and teeth lavished his pulse point, sending a shock all the way to his toes. The winter cold was the last thing on his mind—he was warm everywhere, though the involuntary shiver when Sirius blew gently on the hickey he left was a greatly-appreciated exception.

“You’re sure you’re okay with not doing anything right now?”

“I was promised sexy times tomorrow.” Sirius gave his ass a playful squeeze, accompanied by a nibble to the hollow of his throat. “We have to follow tradition, mon coeur.”

He bent down to Sirius’ ear with a grin. “If the power stays out, we could do it right here. No curtains, no lights on, right in front of that big window.”

“Mon dieu,” Sirius said on the tail end of an exhale.

“We could.”

“I know, that’s the problem.”

“I don’t see a problem with that.” Despite his words, Remus felt himself succumbing to the cocoon of shadows around them and slid his hands under Sirius’ wingbones for a cuddle. He had already been drowsy when the lights went out, and being that close to the most comforting person he knew certainly hadn’t helped, no matter how horny they were. “We can pick this up tomorrow night? Gives us plenty of time to brainstorm.”

Sirius’ chest buzzed underneath him before he nosed along Remus’ cheek for a kiss. “Sounds perfect.”

“I can call the electric company and tell them to keep our block’s lights out,” Remus suggested.

“Love it.”

“We should go upstairs, shouldn’t we?”

“I don’t care, as long as I get to do this when we get there.” Sirius’ accent had thickened over the past half hour and Remus soaked it in like a sponge.

“Such a stickler about tradition,” he teased, resting his head on Sirius’ shoulder; the couch wasn’t quite wide enough for them to fit side-by-side. Not that he was protesting, of course.

A beat of silence passed between them. “If we go upstairs, we can make out properly without falling off the couch.”

“Oh, thank god,” Remus said immediately, stumbling to his feet and dragging Sirius after him. With any luck, the power would be out long enough that they wouldn’t be able to go anywhere for days.

[shiraishi-mai]

[10:00pm]

"I will still always love you."

'I didn't say anything," you said, leaning against the brick wall. Your eyes were focused on the orange and red leaves that crunched under your shoes.

"I think I know how you feel. I know how I would feel."

You ignored the stinging in your eyes. How could he know when even you didn't know how you felt? There was a strange something bubbling in your chest. Why did you feel this way? Why did it feel as though your breath was knocked out of you when you saw the invitation with curly silver writing beautifully written on the white envelope. You were happy for him. He deserved the best the world had to offer and you always knew that this was bound to happen. After all, he was never yours to begin with.

"I'm happy for you." You tried to keep the hurt out of your voice and gave him a small smile. Suga walked over to lean against the wall beside you. His lips were pursed and you knew he saw right through you. After all, he was probably the only person who knew you inside out.

"You know, I imagined it before. Whenever you dated someone new, I thought about how it would feel if you got married." He exhaled.

"And it bothered me more than I thought it would. More than it should have. I think I would still mind, even now, in some awful, possessive way." He sighed and looked up at the night sky. "We've never been with each other in that way and it's not like we made any promises."

We both heard the 'but'.

"We knew this would happen," you finally said. "We chose different paths a long time ago."

There was silence. You thought about all the years Suga stood by your side. Always looking out for you, always supporting you. He was your first kiss, the shoulder you cried on many times, and the first face you looked for when you achieved something. He was your best friend and at one point in your life, he was home.

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

A familiar figure walked up to them.

"Y/n?" The boy wore a light, pale sweater with brown khakis and white shoes. His grey hair was a bit tousled and his confused expression mirrored yours.

You whipped around with an accusing glance at your friend who flinched a little under your gaze.

"So it turns out the guy's friend couldn't come...and you and Aera wouldn't come out unless we all went on a date together." Your friend had complained she would leave high school without ever getting a boyfriend and somehow organised this mess that you only agreed to to get her to stop begging.

"SO YOU CALLED SUGA?" you exclaimed.

"Standing right here," he said, putting his hand up. "I am also shocked, thanks for asking."

"You could have just told me he canceled," you muttered, "It's not like I was super excited to do this." Your friend's face was sheepish and her eyes slid over to Suga who had an odd expression on his face. He walked over in front of you and lowered his face, an impish grin replacing the expression.

"Aw come on, is going on one date with your best friend so bad? It'll be the same as hanging out, plus I'm a perfect gentleman." His tone was light and teasing. You rolled your eyes and let out a breath in relief that he wouldn't take this seriously.

Though, you still felt your heart skip a beat when his grinned widened as you agreed.

"Just this one time."

[later]

The girls stared at their respective boys, unimpressed. Your friend's date punched the air and they high-fived each other while Suga and Asahi stared at the ground in shame.

"How can you two of all people be bad at this?" You said flatly.

The scoreboard of the basketball hoop arcade game flashed a 60 while Asahi and Suga had made a measly 10 and 15.

"We're volleyball players, not basketball!" Suga exclaimed.

"I don't think your hand eye coordination should be THAT bad."

The boys grumbled and you and your friends giggled. Suga refused to look at you as you all walked outside of the building into the park after that. Exasperated at his silent treatment, you dragged him over to the ice cream cart as an apology for making fun of him.

"What did you get?"

"Chocolate. What about you?"

"Strawberry," you said happily. "It's really good! Do you want to try?" You held out your cone. He leaned down to take a bite and found himself with ice cream on his face instead.

"First you make fun of me, and then you attack me with ice cream." He shook his head. "Some date you are."

"That's what they always do on dates on TV. It looked fun so I wanted to try."

He gave her a sly grin. "You know, the guy usually gets her back."

You yelped as you attempted to scamper away but a strong arm caught your waist and you struggled to escape. You saw the cone get closer to your face and shrank back - closing your eyes and scrunching up your face.

But the cold sensation never came. Instead, you felt a soft pair of lips peck your cheek and your eyes widened as you turned to look at him.

"You scared me! I thought-" Ice cream was suddenly on your nose. Suga laughed, clutching his stomach. "Your face, oh my god."

You couldn't help but smile at the delight on his face.

When he finally straightened up, your eyes locked and he looked at you with a soft expression. You didn't know when he had started to make your heart pound and your face burn. Maybe it was when he had gently put on a bandaid on the scrape on your knee (he claims to carry a few since you're so clumsy) and briefly swiped his thumb over the plastic, or rubbed your hands and blew on them in the winter, or carried you to your bed when you fell asleep studying together.

He had confessed to you in your second year. You had frozen, unsure of what to do, before blurting out that you didn't feel the same before you could process his words. You had slid down your locker after he waved bye with a smile on his face, saying "no hard feelings", and went to practice. Your thoughts raced. You knew him for such a long time, it would ruin your friendship to date him, right? You couldn't bear to hurt him or end up fighting with him. And besides, when both of you discussed your futures, he had been surprised that you wanted to move out of Miyagi while you were surprised he wanted to stay.

Is this what it would have been like? You thought, as you both sat with your head on his shoulder and his on top of yours. You relished in his warmth and he had a faint smell of laundry detergent. Both of you stared out at the river, enjoying the quiet of the night.

Your hands were intertwined and placed on your lap. Every time you opened your mouth to say something, you found you didn't have the words.

"I made my decision. I'm going to leave after graduation." You finally said.

"Okay," he said softly.

"Like leaving the country."

"Okay." He repeated.

"I don't know when I'll come back."

"Okay."

You squeezed his hand tighter as your eyes suddenly filled with moisture. You peeked at his face to see he was staring at the bright bridge lights with a neutral face and you turned back to look at them too. You heard him quietly take a breath.

"I love you."

You pressed your lips together to keep them from trembling.

"Okay," you said.

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

"In the next life?" You finally turned to look at him. His grey eyes twinkled with humour and mischief. He may have grown taller and changed throughout the years, but his eyes always stayed the same. You both had joked about what you would do if you were born again and agreed that you would meet again.

"In the next life," you replied. "I promise I won't leave you. Ever." You clenched your jaw.

He chuckled. "I'll hold you to it."

The silence between you two as you stared at each other lasted for a brief few seconds but felt so heavy and your nails dug into your palms.

"Come on," he finally said, holding out his hand, "let's go back inside."

[iam93percentstardust]

Hi, happy Shared Birthday Month, cause it's my birthday month as well!! Can I please prompt you a WinterIron, where Bucky and/or winter soldier is a science nerd and a massive Tony Stark stan? Happy with setting in any era, any rating 😄 Thank you! You are amazing and I love your stuff!

Happy late birthday! Sorry it took me a bit to get to this prompt but here is a cute no-powers au, featuring some minor Natasha/Steve and some science from a paper my lab group read in group meeting yesterday (check the ao3 story for the paper citation). Sorry I didn't come up with something more original for the science but this was on my mind.

As always, everything I write is also on ao3.

~

“Okay, Steve, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me—for us,” Bucky quickly corrects when Steve shoots him an amused look. “So what are we going to do?”

“We’re going to sit quietly in the audience,” Steve says.

“And what are we not going to do?”

“Shout that our best friend would like to bang Tony Stark like a screen door in a hurricane,” Steve dutifully repeats what Bucky has been telling him for the whole drive to the studio. He gives Bucky a sly smile. “Even if it’s true.”

Bucky swats his skinny arm lightly, enough to sting but not so hard that it’ll bruise Steve’s arm, which bruises like a peach. He still can’t believe he managed to win the tickets to watch the live taping of the one hundredth episode of Tony Stark’s show, It’s Only Science If You Write It Down. He’s been following the show since its first episode five years ago. Growing up, Tony Stark was to him what Britney Spears was to other kids. Stark was always in the news for his innovative inventions for his father’s company. Everyone had thought he would take over SI after his parents’ deaths, but instead he’d handed the company over to Pepper Potts, a then-unknown young woman working in SI’s financial department. Stark still held the majority of shares in the company but he’d turned his focus to becoming the next Bill Nye, along with his best friend. Bucky had stumbled across one of the articles about him when he was young and immediately developed one heck of a crush on him that hadn’t at all disappeared with age.

And now he’s here, attending the first ever live taping of Stark’s show.

It’d be a dream come true if only Steve wasn’t the one attending with him. Don’t get him wrong, Stevie’s great, but he’s also convinced Bucky needs to date more often and he’s very… enthusiastic about making sure that everyone they meet that Bucky thinks is even the slightest bit cute knows that.

Stark is the crush to end all crushes. He knows that Steve knows it. He also knows what Steve is like, and he thinks he’ll die of shame if Steve feels the need to let Stark know it too.

“You have your inhaler, right?” he asks as the line creeps forward.

“Yes, mother,” Steve sighs, patting his pocket. “And an EpiPen in the other pocket and my meds in my wallet.”

They’re reminded to keep their phones firmly in their pockets by the surly security guard—incongruously named Happy, according to the badge he’s wearing—at the front door and then ushered inside the studio, only to be stopped by a young woman with a clipboard as they’re climbing the risers.

“Hi,” she says with a sphinxlike smile that makes Bucky want to check that his wallet is still in his pocket. “Which one of you is Bucky Barnes?”

“Uh, that would be me,” he says, raising his hand slightly.

Her eyes catch on the silver sheen of his prosthetic. They don’t register anything other than idle curiosity, but Bucky still awkwardly tucks the arm away. It’s been almost ten years since the accident, but he’s still not used to the looks he gets when people see it.

“I’m Natasha,” she says. “Mr. Stark’s personal assistant. JARVIS noticed you when you entered the studio. Mr. Stark wanted me to inform you both that there’s been a change to the contest winnings.”

Dread starts to pool in Bucky’s stomach but it doesn’t have long to settle before her smile gentles and she adds, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. He just wanted to invite the two of you backstage after the show is over.”

Bucky’s mouth drops open. Steve reaches over to close it and asks, “Why?”

To Bucky’s surprise, Natasha gives Steve a clear onceover, seemingly pleased by what she sees. “Mr. Stark wouldn’t like me to give away his secrets, but I’d imagine it has something to do with the way he spilled his coffee all over his front when he saw your friend’s picture.”

“Really?” Steve asks skeptically. “A notorious playboy tripping all over himself for this yahoo here?”

Natasha laughs, hard enough that Bucky mutters, “It wasn’t that funny.”

Once she’s calmed down, Natasha says, “He’s not as bad as you think. A lot of it is just reputation. And yes, as soon as he got a look at him, he was demanding I figure out a way to get him backstage.”

“What am I, chopped liver?” Steve demands, taking an indignant stance.

Natasha hums, eyes going dark. “Oh no, you got invited backstage because I wanted to meet you,” she purrs. “I’ll come find you boys later. Enjoy the show.”

She saunters off, putting just enough of a sway to her step that Bucky suspects if he were attracted to women, he’d be mesmerized. As it is, he’s the one who has to reach over to close Steve’s jaw this time.

They take their seats and a few minutes later, Tony Stark and James Rhodes walk on set. They’re quietly talking to each other as the crew bustles around them, makeup artists darting up to make sure their faces look perfect. Stark is dressed in a t-shirt that says Engineers do it on the test bench—which is a terrible joke really and shouldn’t make Bucky want to laugh as much as he does—and well-worn jeans that perfectly mold to the shape of his bubble butt. Rhodes could be dressed in a paper sack for all that Bucky notices him.

Steve leans over and whispers, “You sure that I can’t yell that you want to bang Tony Stark like a screen door in a hurricane? Natasha made it sound like he’d be open to it.”

“You do,” Bucky hisses back, “and I’ll tell Natasha you were looking at her rear when she walked away.”

Steve makes an indignant noise and sits back in his chair, sulkily crossing his arms.

“Quiet on set!” the director yells. “And… action!”

“Hi!” Tony Stark says, smiling right at the camera. “I’m Tony and this is Rhodey and you’re watching Disney Channe!”

“He’s kidding,” Rhodes says long-sufferingly. “You’re watching It’s Only Science If You Write It Down.”

Later, Bucky wouldn’t be able to tell anyone what the show had been about. He’d spent the entire show too entranced by Tony’s voice and charisma to pay any attention to the actual science, which is a bit of a shame. He really does like science—he wouldn’t be getting his PhD in physical chemistry if he didn’t—but he can’t tear his eyes away from Tony long enough to actually watch the experiment. It’s fine; he can always watch the show later when it’s released (and maybe, if he’s lucky, he’ll have Tony to watch it with).

It seems like both an eternity and only a moment before the show wraps. Tony and Rhodes leave to thunderous applause, only coming back out for quick bows before disappearing backstage again. Bucky and Steve stay seated while the rest of the audience filters out slowly until Natasha comes to get them. She and Steve chat quietly as she leads them backstage but Bucky can only listen with half an ear; he’s too nervous about meeting his personal hero.

Rhodes is leaving the room Natasha leads them to. He breathes a sigh of relief when he spots the three of them. “Good, you’re here,” he says, specifically looking at Bucky. “Maybe you can calm him down. He’s been bouncing off the walls since he saw your picture.”

“Really?” Bucky squeaks. He clears his throat and tries again. “Really?”

“Really. He read all your papers last night—twice.”

“He has?”

Rhodes nods. “He really likes your piece on inelastic electron wave packet scattering.”

“Yeah? What did he—”

“You’ll have to ask him,” Rhodes interrupts. “I might be a rocket scientist but chemistry isn’t my preferred field of science. If you don’t mind, I’ve got a date to get to.”

He pushes the door open, letting them in, and leaves. Natasha slips through the door, followed immediately by Tony saying, “Where are—oh god, they left, didn’t they? I knew this was too much. Nat—”

“They’re right outside,” Natasha says smoothly. She opens the door further, revealing the two of them awkwardly standing there. Bucky’s gaze darts around a fairly nice dressing room before finally landing on Tony, who is blinking back at him with a wide-eyed, slightly stunned look.

“Hi,” he breathes out.

The corner of Tony’s mouth twitches up in the tiniest of smiles. “Hi.”

“Great, now that that’s out of the way, get out,” Natasha says, giving Tony a shove so that he stumbles out of the room, right into Bucky’s arms. She reaches out and grabs Steve, pulling him inside. “Don’t disturb me for the next hour.”

“Uh,” Steve begins, but he doesn’t actually look upset by this turn of events, so Bucky doesn’t worry—too much, anyway.

He does, however, turn to Tony and ask, “Is he going to be okay?”

“Oh yeah, he’s fine,” Tony says breezily. “Natasha’s just very direct.”

“Right.”

Now that it’s just the two of them alone in the hallway, it’s a little more awkward. Bucky opens his mouth twice to say something, only to shut it again as soon as he realizes his question is stupid. For his part, Tony shoves his hands deep into his pockets and rocks back and forth on his feet.

Then the sound of what is obviously Steve moaning floats through the door. Bucky cringes and jerks his thumb in the direction of the door. “We should—”

“Yep,” Tony agrees.

They get all the way back to the set before they stop. They look at each other for a beat before dissolving into giggles. “Oh my god,” Tony says, clutching his sides. “I knew she moved fast but—”

“Well, Steve doesn’t move fast at all,” Bucky says, “so you can see where I’m a bit lost.”

That sets Tony off into another round of laughter. Bucky is calming down a bit so he takes the moment to admire the way Tony laughs with his entire body. It takes Tony a moment to realizes he’s being stared at. When he does, his laugh tapers off as he gives Bucky a lingering look.

“I’m Tony,” he says eventually.

“Bucky.”

“Wow, that’s really unfortunate.”

“You’re not wrong,” Bucky agrees. “Blame Stevie for that one.”

“Childhood friends, huh?”

“Literally played naked together in the kiddie pool.”

Tony grins. “That sounds familiar.”

“You and Rhodes—”

“Oh no, but if you ever get the chance to meet Janet Van Dyne, remember to ask her about the time she thought she could make a living selling mud pies.”

Bucky takes a moment to marvel that this is his life now, that Tony thinks nothing of giving him dirt on the most prolific fashion designer of their generation. “So, uh, Rhodes told me you read my papers?”

Tony’s eyes light up, and, wow, he looks really pretty when he’s excited. “Yes!” he exclaims. “I want to hear your thoughts on the—uh—the time-dependent density functional theory model.”

“I’d love to,” Bucky says honestly. He bites his lip. “Maybe over coffee?”

A delighted smile spreads across Tony’s face. “I’d really like that.”

He holds out his hand for Bucky to take, which he does. Tony’s hand is small and warm, fitting perfectly against his. They stand there, smiling at each other like idiots, until the surly security guard pokes his head around the corner and asks, “Boss, do you need me to drive you?”

Tony jumps. He shoots Bucky a sheepish grin and then calls over his shoulder, “No, I think we can walk, Happy.”

“Are you sure? There’s—”

“It’s only two blocks.”

“Yeah, but—”

“You know what, Happy. You should go see if Natasha needs you to drive her somewhere. I think she’s got a date too.” While Happy is distracted, Tony tugs Bucky towards a side door he hadn’t noticed earlier. “Come on,” he mutters. “Before Natasha decides to kill me for sending Happy to interrupt her.”

“You could not antagonize her,” Bucky points out.

Tony shoots him a mischievous grin. “Where’s the fun in that?”

[flowercrown-bard]

Started out rocky, now they’re both cocky

(Part 3 of the rooster!Jaskier series, but it’s not necessary to read the other parts. All you need to know is that Jaskier is a rooster and he’s here to cause chaos)

word count: 3378

content warnings: innuendos, use of the word “cock”

part 1  part 2

AO3 (here Jaskier is called Dandelion, bc I think this has more game!Danelion vibes)

Jaskier had often imagined what it would be like to spend the winter at Kaer Morhen. In his mind, there had been no doubt that he would sweep into a deep bow, announcing his presence to the witchers residing there with a confident grin and eloquent words.

Alas. As fate – or, in this case a very insistent Geralt – would have it, Jaskier was unable to do either of these things. His words had been replaced by crowing, charming someone with a smile was most definitely impossible if one had a beak and an ugly lappet beneath one’s chin. And as for sweeping into a low bow – well, it would look rather silly if a rooster were to bow and he was beneath making an idiot of himself. That’s what Valdo Marx was for and he would not lower himself to that imbecile’s standards.

A less obvious, though no less important reason why Jaskier was not going to present himself the way he normally would have, was simple: To do so, he’d have to stop letting Geralt carry him. Though, now that he thought about it, he wasn’t so certain anymore, whether Geralt was carrying him because why wouldn’t he carry his dearest friend? Or if he did it so he could have a hold on Jaskier and prevent him from running away and wreaking havoc again.

Which was, of course, preposterous and also rather hypocritical of him. After all, the whole reason why Jaskier was here in the first place – and in this undignified form at that – was so he could fulfil Geralt’s wishes and use his unique talents and talons to destroy the room of one of Geralt’s brothers, a task that he was more than willing to take upon himself.

Still, it would have been much appreciated if Geralt had made sure that the other witchers welcomed him as well, or at the very least knew who he was, instead of ignoring him mostly while they greeted Geralt. Truly, it was a marvel that the witcher who welcomed Geralt at the gate didn’t pay any special attention to Jaskier. Not that he needed the attention per se, but it would have been nice and, well, there was a reason why he wasn’t used to people ignoring him. He was a delight! And no one could tell him that the sight of Geralt warming his hands by burying them in the feathers of an exceptionally beautiful and sophisticated rooster wasn’t a sight worth being paid attention to.  

Filled with righteous indignation, Jaskier fluttered his wings and pecked a little at Geralt’s fingers, when he had been ignoring Jaskier way too long – not that any amount of ignoring Jaskier would have been acceptable - in favour of talking to the fetching witcher wearing red leather. Eskel, if Jaskier wasn’t mistaken, and as everyone knew, he was never mistaken.

The action earned him a small tightening of Geralt’s arms around him that had him squawking indignantly, but at least, Eskel now looked at him. Jaskier did his best to preen and exude an air of sophistication. For a blissful moment it seemed that he had indeed thoroughly charmed the witcher. Eskel’s face lit up, he reached out and –

“Sir!”  Jaskier tried to shout, but his voice contorted his outraged outcry to a crow.

How- the audacity of – what did Eskel think gave him the permission to just pet Jaskier as if he was but an animal? Oh, how dare he…

Oh. Oh. No, actually, it was quite a nice sensation having strong hands caress his head and down his feathered back as gently as a lovesick poet would run their fingers over a flower. Quite nice indeed. He could get used to this.

To his shame – but really, who could fault a bard for seeking a little innocent pleasure in being touched by a handsome man? – Jaskier leaned into the touch. Thank all the gods that he hadn’t been turned into a cat, or else he might have had to suffer the indignity of starting to purr under the well-deserved attention.

For a brief, blissful moment, all was perfect. Until -

“He will get along well with Lil’ Bleater,” Eskel said. “You think we can put them into the stable together?”

And that was just – no! Oh no no, dear witcher. A pretty face and a soft touch would not be enough to save him from Jaskier ‘s outrage.

Expectantly, Jaskier turned his head to Geralt, his most beloved friend, the man who had rescued him countless times from the clutches of those who meant him or his reputation harm. Surely, now would be the perfect time for Geralt to come to his aid once more and defend his honour. Certainly he would –

“Hmm.”

Oh that bastard! This was no disagreeing or scolding hum. This hmm, accompanied by a sly smirk and a mischievous twinkle in Geralt’s eyes was very decidedly not the support that Jaskier was looking for.

Jaskier nipped Geralt’s fingers again, but that only served to make the witcher grin even wider. Together with Eskel, Geralt walked through the gate and towards the entrance hall, giving Jaskier a shit-eating grin when they passed the stables and making a comment about how in there, no one would hear the rooster’s morning crow.

He better just be teasing. As tasteless of a joke as this was, Jaskier might find it in himself to forgive Geralt for the threat of making him sleep in a stable with a goat.

As they walked, Geralt kept petting him absentmindedly, which was admittedly nice. Jaskier could live with being used as a glorified hand-warmer, if it came with the luxury of being carried around and getting pressed against a strong man’s chest.

Even better than that, though, was the look the old witcher, who Geralt greeted with the name Vesemir, gave Geralt, when they met him in the great hall. The way his eyes wandered from Geralt’s face down to where he was stroking his rooster marked him as a man who had lost all faith in Geralt.

A younger witcher with slicked back hair, who must be the infamous Lambert, the very reason why Jaskier was here, snickered behind Vesemir’s back.

“Looks like I’m officially the superior brother now,” he said with a grin. “The only one whose best friend isn’t a farm animal.”

“Your best friend is a cat,” Geralt deadpanned.

“A handsome cat that would claw your pretty face off if he heard you taking shit about me.”

Lambert’s grin looked infuriatingly smug. Jaskier didn’t know this cat they were speaking of, but one thing should never be questioned: He was the farm best animal friend. Even if he wasn’t really an animal or – he shuddered at the thought – living on a farm. But how dare Lambert imply that a cat could be better than a rooster? He gave Lambert his best menacing glare, which fell rather flat, considering he was a damned bird, currently snuggling against Geralt.

As was to be expected, which didn’t mean Jaskier didn’t take offence to it, Lambert ignored him. “What’s his name anyway? I sure hope it’s not Roach.”

If he had been able to snicker, Jaskier would have done so. Lambert might be a cock – oh, who was Jaskier to judge such a thing? – but it was nice to see that the bard wasn’t the only one who would relentlessly tease Geralt for his inability to come up with good names.

“Eskel has his Little Bleater,” Lambert added, his grin turning downright devious. “So, pretty boy, you have…a Little Cock?”

Little? Little?

The gall of that man! Jaskier was anything but small, thank you very much. But then again, Jaskier couldn’t shame a man for showing such a great understanding of wordplay, especially when he used his talents to tease Geralt.

Oh, who was he kidding? He liked Lambert.

Between his unexpected appreciation for the youngest witcher and the urge to make himself seem bigger than he was, Jaskier nearly missed Geralt’s answer. It was exactly the sort of reply one would expect. Except…Geralt did not correct Lambert regarding the fact that Jaskier was an animal.

Now, here’s the thing. Jaskier loved his witcher with all his heart. Geralt was his best friend in the whole wide world and he would never exchange him for anyone, as much of a smug bastard as he could sometimes be. But by the gods, why oh why, did Jaskier ‘s best friend have to be a man who didn’t have the presence of mind to just, oh, I don’t know, tell his family that the rooster he was bringing with him was a cursed human? There was no doubt that Geralt had told his brothers and father of Jaskier before, for how could he not? Jaskier was a great subject to talk about. Surely, Geralt couldn’t be worried about them not accepting him in their midst.

A quick glance at him – Jaskier preferred not to think about how strange a rooster turning his head nearly upside down and giving a stink eye must look – made it quite clear that he was, in fact, not worried at all. Instead, Geralt was up to something.

Jaskier glared at him, as if staring might let him read Geralt’s thoughts, provided Geralt knew how to use his mind to think.

Perhaps his plan was to give Jaskier the best possible way to get attention by only introducing him once he was back in his dashing human form? Oh, that would be marvellous! After all, if there was one thing Jaskier was good at – well, there were numerous things, of course, but we shall ignore that for the sake of the dramatic – it was making an impression. He had to commend his friend for being so thoughtful as to grant him such an opportunity, unless…

Oh, Jaskier knew that look on Geralt’s face. He was having far too much fun with this. A suspicious amount of fun even. It would almost make one think that all this had never been solely about Lambert’s room at all. If Jaskier hadn’t known any better, he might even be inclined to think that Geralt was taking delight in letting Jaskier stay cursed.

Well. If that was the case, Jaskier would make sure that Geralt would delight not much longer in that.

He let out an ear-piercing shriek that had Geralt flinch and unfortunately squeeze him a little uncomfortably.

“What’s wrong, Jaskier?” He asked, as if he didn’t know fully well the magnitude of what he was doing.

Before Jaskier could answer, well, whatever equivalent of answering he could do in this form at any rate, Lambert spoke up again.

“Jaskier?” He cooed. “How sweet. You miss your bard so much that you call your rooster by his name? Who would have thought the White Wolf could be so soft-hearted. Watch out or Roach will get jealous if she learns that you found a new love.”

“Lambert,” Geralt growled, though whether he was defending his own reputation as a stoic, brooding loner – ha! As if anyone could look at him and believe him to be such a thing! – or if he was outraged at the thought that anyone could take Roach’s place in his heart, Jaskier couldn’t tell. It was likely a mixture of both.

“Oh, so you don’t miss your bard?” Lambert lifted an eyebrow. “Is it perhaps just a certain bodypart of his that you miss? I guess then it would make sense why you gave his name to the cock.”

Lambert turned away from Geralt before he could come up with a reply, but before he had his back fully to Geralt, Lambert caught Jaskier’s eye and he winked.

Oh. Oh ho ho, he knew. That sly bastard. Evidently, Lambert was the only witcher who knew how to use his brain and seen through the curse and Geralt’s admittedly poor attempt at making it seem as if the extraordinary and overall splendid rooster was but a normal bird and now Lambert was fucking with Geralt.

And – now, listen. Jaskier had been looking forward to destroying Lambert’s room. There was nothing like joining forces with a friend to mess with someone who annoyed them. Well, the biggest pleasure Jaskier knew came from proving once again that he was more talented than Valdo Marx, but that was a given, so it shall not be mentioned further. The point was that Jaskier would have done as Geralt had asked of him.

But now, with this new knowledge that Lambert apparently shared the same ambition as Jaskier to become the biggest nuisance he could be, he couldn’t possibly work against him. Jaskier could recognise a kindred spirit if he saw one. Reading people and recognising his own greatness in others was one of his countless talents. The last and perhaps only time he had met such a kindred soul before, had been in his first year at Oxenfurt at the admission exam, when Valdo Marx had immediately singled out Jaskier as the one who could be the biggest threat to his career. As loathe as Jaskier was to admit it, he too had recognised a certain talent in the other bard and they had both decided to make it their lives’ mission to not let the other top them.

Jaskier had not regretted that decision a moment in his life, but even he had to admit that said rivalry was the reason why he was now a rooster and delightful as that could be, he could have done well without it.

So, he would not make the mistake of antagonizing a congenial person again. At least not know. Who was to say what the future held? The important part was, that for now, for once in his life, Jaskier was going to be the bigger person.

He waited until the moment was right, a feat greater than any he had ever faced before. As virtuous as he was, being patient was not one of Jaskier’s strong suits. Still, once night had fallen and Geralt had thankfully not made true of his promise to put him in the stables, he snuck out of Geralt’s room, searching for Lambert’s instead.

Lambert, of course, was already waiting for him, a cocky smile on his face and his arms crossed in a way that meant business.

He greeted Jaskier with the fateful words “You gonna help me mess with Geralt?” and obviously, there was only one possible answer to that.

It was thrilling having an ally in his mission to create chaos and take revenge on those that had slighted him. And, oh, how Geralt had slighted him!

The first step of their however-many-steps-they-would-get-away-with-plan was simple: Jaskier was supposed to take a nap. In Geralt’s bed. Specifically, in his hair, creating a nest out of it.

Now, Jaskier was no craftsman for any craft that didn’t involve the spoken word, but he did so love to make himself comfortable. So that was what he did. Snuggling into Geralt’s hair and masterfully rearranging the strands with his beak until they could well and truly be considered a mess.

And then, as always, Jaskier woke Geralt up in his new favourite way. One would have thought that Geralt would have gotten used to Jaskier crowing into his ear at the top of his lungs. But no. Geralt grimaced and grabbed his pillow to throw it at his tragically underappreciated companion. The feathers flying through the room were not only those from the pillow.

So naturally, Jaskier started complaining. Loudly. Loud enough to, as a completely arbitrary example, signal a different witcher whose room was down the hallway that their plan was in motion.

Before Geralt could find another pillow to throw at him, Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s breeches that the witcher had unceremoniously dropped to the floor the past night and dragged them towards the door.

Cursing, Geralt chased after him, wearing nothing but his underthings. Had Jaskier been alone, he would have gotten caught, no doubt, but the door flung open just in time for him to dash through and just before Geralt could reach him, Lambert, who had been lying in wait, scooped Jaskier up and ran down the stairs and outside, cackling like a hen, while Jaskier let out a triumphant crow that was somewhat muffled by the breeches still firmly held in his beak.

Geralt was catching up to them quickly, but Lambert and Jaskier had one rather obvious advantage: There were two of them.

Lambert dropped Jaskier unceremoniously, leaving him to flutter his wings to land somewhat elegantly – oh, who was he kidding? He plummeted to the ground like a stone - and they dashed into two different directions. For a precious moment, Geralt stood there frozen to the spot, surely contemplating which menace would be able to cause the greater chaos, if he didn’t catch him: The rooster with a godcomplex or Geralt’s little brother in possession of opposable thumbs.

Geralt, once more was forced to choose the lesser evil, but here is the thing: As it was so often the case, there was no correct choice to make.

While Lambert ran back to Geralt’s room to cause who knew what chaos, Jaskier ran towards the stables, and be it only for the dramatic irony.

Geralt must have chosen to follow Lambert and Jaskier was almost insulted, but it gave him the chance to take his time, pushing open the door to the stables and dragging the breeches inside. Just a little revenge for all the times that Geralt had made fun of Jaskier when he had been forced to run out of town without his breeches, since they had to be left in a lover’s rooms.

He dropped the breeches in Lil’ Bleater’s corner and watched with smug satisfaction as the goat immediately began munching on the breeches happily. Jaskier gave her a proud look and had they both been human, he would have kissed her hand in thanks. As it was, he was rather fond of his beak and he would not risk hurting it by kissing the goat’s hooves. Still, Lil’ Bleater lived up to her name, giving a happy little bleat that Jaskier chose to interpret as thanks for the delicious meal. How polite of her.

Who knew. Maybe they would become friends after all.

From somewhere in the keep, Jaskier could hear a bang and then a shout of disgust and had he been in possession of his luscious lips, would have made them split into the biggest, most self-satisfied grin, when Geralt’s voice continued cursing loud enough to be heard even where Jaskier was. To be fair, Geralt had probably opened the windows of his room. At least that was what Jaskier would have done in his stead to escape what Lambert had done to his room.

Well. Served Geralt right. No one could accuse Lambert of unoriginality and Jaskier was nothing if not petty.

Of course, the bomb that Lambert had set off wasn’t another moon dust bomb. Where would be the fun in that? No, Lambert and Jaskier had agreed, as much as a rooster and a witcher could agree, that they would be gracious and bring Geralt closer to what he loved the most: The sweet sweet smell of his cherished Roach. In this case, the smell of what Roach left behind, when she had eaten a lot.

There were more steps to their genius plan of creating chaos in the keep, one of which involved a fork, a strategically placed axii and the backside of whoever pissed Lambert off the most, and naturally there were endlessly more possibilities for improvisation.

Sadly, the other witchers, roused by the mayhem and possibly even the stench coming from Geralt’s room, didn’t seem to appreciate Lambert and Jaskier’s combined genius and they made sure to break the curse on Jaskier as soon as they got the change.

Now, there was only one fundamental flaw in that: For some unknown reason, the witchers hadn’t considered the fact that Jaskier’s personality hadn’t changed when he had become a rooster. They had no idea what they were in for, now that Jaskier had opposable thumbs again.

This would be a fun winter indeed.

[urimaginespimp]

Gorgeous (pt2 of This Love)

Bucky x Elemental Witch Reader x platonic Steve

Setting is during Civil War

Read the prologue here to know about your character’s story.

--------

Midgardians were indeed strange. Natasha and the rest of the team did their best in making sure you would settle well with them, and so far, you were getting the hang of it. They were always amused watching you and Vision try to act what they call “normal.”  

Along with being introduced to everything was also knowing about your personal preferences. You love reading almost all kinds of books, and you found horror movies funny, especially the ones about possessions. You could almost hear the Norns that raised you snort at them. You also love exploring the numerous genres of music they have.  

Steve and you have become quite close, and his favorite pastime were telling you about his life before becoming the Captain America. His stories about a best friend he calls “Bucky” was your favorite. The man you’ve never met reminds you of your favorite men in the romance novels you’ve read – charming, handsome (you assumed), and he sounded kind. You were surprised when Steve told you about finding out that he was alive all this time after being brainwashed by Hydra. The captain still looks like he’s longing to get his friend back.  

Despite being over a century year old, the team treated you like a younger sister because of your naivety. Sam was like the bad influence brother - always teaching you about pranks.  Overall, you were settling just fine in the lifestyle you were only introduced into over a year ago.

The Norns have taught you that challenges and doom were always going to be lurking at every corner. Tony and Steve were currently in disagreement. World leaders were trying to get the team controlled and regulated. An explosion rocked in Vienna during a meeting, and some people are killed among them is the King of a place called Wakanda. Now the authorities were claiming the bomb was planted by the Winter Soldier – the man Steve has told you so much about.  

Now the team was divided, and you didn’t know where to place yourself. Your family was falling apart. You still weren’t considered a Midgardian and could easily leave Earth. You thought about reaching out to Thor, but how could you, when the same man who told you to reach him through e-mail, didn’t even have a phone? And Bruce himself was still nowhere to be found.  

Cap has assembled a team with Sam, Clint, Wanda, and an Ant guy you were yet to meet, to stop another man named Zemo. But by operating outside of authority, they all become renegades. You almost laughed when you heard that in Tony’s side was a Spider guy.  

Everyone was currently at an airport in Stuttgart, Germany. You were sitting on the roof of one of those ramps, looking over the team as Tony was still trying to negotiate with Steve. You noted the man with the metal arm standing next to him. So this must be Bucky. He was much more handsome as you imagined him to be – tall, piercing blue eyes and dark long hair. The girls you’ve met around the city would’ve gushed over him, joking about what they’d like to do with him. And you almost kicked yourself for agreeing with a conversation that hasn't even happen yet.

“You sure you want no part of this, princess?!” Tony called out to you, making everybody’s attention turn your way.

“Frankly I could’ve left, Tony.” You stated, looking over everyone, trying to take in that this may be the last time your family would be in the same room. “But I learned that Midgardians love blowing off steam. I’m just here to make sure nobody gets seriously injured.”  

“She’s not human?” you heard Steve’s friend ask him quietly. You heard him respond that it’s a long story. You shot the man a quick wink and a grin, making him cough in surprise.  

So what if you might have a little crush on the man? Technically, witches your age are still considered mentally young – almost comparable to a Midgardian in her 20s.  

A pitched battle breaks out, and as intended, you were going around making sure that nobody got gravely hurt.  

You were now running alongside Nat.  

“Is it weird that I may have a little crush on Steve’s friend?” you chimed.

“No surprise there. Is that why you refused to take sides?” She asked you, panting.

“Of course not, Nat. Plus you and Wanda are in different teams.”

“And?”

“We women should be sticking together. Leave the men acting childish.” you replied.

“Where’d you learn that?!” She was amused.

“I hang out with drunk women in club bathrooms!”  you exclaimed.  

You honestly thought Nat was intent on stopping Steve, but she took you all by surprise when she suddenly turns on Black Panther, allowing Cap and Bucky time to get in the Quinjet.

“You’re not even gonna introduce me?” you called him out.

“Not really the best time but Y/N, Bucky. Bucky, Y/N.” He hastily answered while getting in.

You and Bucky were staring at each other. He couldn’t quite decide whether to say to you. It was the first time a stranger was looking at him with glimmer in their eyes, as if she was genuinely glad to be introduced. And it was not the appropriate time.  

“I find you incredibly attractive.” You found yourself blurting out while gazing at him. You heard Nat snort behind you, and you almost laughed at how taken back Bucky looked.

“Uh... I’m too old for you.” He awkwardly replied, and you chuckled.

You were about to tell him that you’re older than he’ll ever be, but a groan from T’Challa snapped you all back.

“Alright, time to go. Nice first date, kids.” Steve called out from the pilot.

“I’ll see you again, soldier.” You gave him a genuine smile. He scratched the back of his neck and gave you a shy nod before turning back to take his seat.

“You should ask those girl friends of yours to teach Steve a thing or two with flirting.” Nat commented, giving you a sly smile.  

“Shut up, Nat. I wasn’t flirting.”

--------

It was no surprise when Steve sought you out to help him break the others from prison. The authorities didn’t know what to do with you, and you think it was because you never really broke any rules, you’re not from here, and they might be afraid of angering the god of thunder himself if they even touched you. So without thinking twice, you joined him.  

“So...” you thought about asking him what happened to Bucky.

“Can’t say I’m surprised that even a witch would be crushing on my best friend.” He chuckled. He was now flying you in the Quinjet to god knows where.

“I blame you, Steve. You kept talking about him.” You punched his arm gently.  

“If it helps, I think he finds you beautiful.”  

But before you could respond, your mouth went agape as the view of the forest around you suddenly became a whole other place full of beautiful infrastructures you’ve never seen before.

“Welcome to Wakanda, Y/N.” Steve told you when he noticed you’ve gone quiet.  

--------

Steve and you were welcomed by T’Challa and the princess named Shuri, and they escorted you both to what seemed to be a lab. Shuri was funny and you both hit it off immediately.  

Stopping just outside a bar, Shuri turned to you. “I’m hoping to see more of you, Y/N. Your boyfriend awaits you.” She snickered and left before you could say anything. Steve gave you a sheepish look and told you that when they were asking who he was bringing in for security purposes, he might have told them that you have a crush on their patient.  

Going in, you decided to stop by the doorway to assess everything.

“You sure about this?” You heard Steve asked someone, making you snap at their direction.  

Sitting on a small bed was Bucky. His metal arm was gone, and he was wearing a white top and pants.

“I can’t trust my own mind.” he replied, and turned to where you were standing, giving you a polite smile. “So until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head, I think going back on there is the best thing for everybody.”

Steve nodded in understanding, and turned to you. “Are you just gonna stand there?” He asked you with a teasing smile.

“That depends if you only brought me here so you could properly embarrass me.” You replied, biting your cheek from smiling. He started walking back towards you with a small smile. Standing face to face, he started speaking a bit more quietly.  

“Well, yes.” He answered and you shook your head at him, chuckling. “But I also wanted to ask you something.”  

“Anything, Steve.” you nodded at him.

“Will... Will you uh- come back here if Shuri calls you that they’re finally waking him up? I’m just going to lay low for a bit, and I don’t know if I’d be still on the run when that happens.” he looked almost embarrassed to even ask you the favor, but before he could start rambling, you surprised him with a hug.  

“You’ve taught me so much, Steve. Of course, I’ll look after your hot friend.” you chuckled to mask that your eyes were brimming with tears. You were going to miss him.

Breaking off from the embrace, Steve cupped your face and wiped a stray tear on your cheek. “Don’t scare him off, okay. I don’t think he’d be able to handle how much bolder women are these days.” you rolled your eyes at him but proceeded to give him a small nod.  

---------

The lab was now preparing to put Bucky into a cryogenic sleep. When Steve left that morning, all he told him was that he was going to meet with a friend who might want to check out Wakanda. He didn’t expect that Steve meant you.  

When he first saw you at the airport, he was taken back to how beautiful you were. He’s seen attractive people around when he was trying to live like a civilian, but there was just something refreshing about you. As soon as it was implied that you weren’t actually from earth and that you were a witch, he settled with that explanation. Maybe being beautiful came with your power.

But then you unexpectedly winked at him and even said you find him attractive so unapologetically. He tried to be sly about asking Steve about you but it was obvious that he caught on and was beaming at him like crazy. He told him about you, how you were raised by Norns, that Thor took back with him to earth, and that you’ve spent the year knowing how to be like the humans.  

“She’s adapted to the world today better than I have, Buck.” Steve smiled at the thought of you. “I think she’d be the perfect teacher for you in the future.”  

He was watching as Steve talked to you by the doorway and when you hugged him and started crying. After Steve comforted you, you turned to look at him again, now a cheeky smile was on your face as you walked towards him.  

“I don’t think we’ve formally met. I’m Y/N.” You offered your hand for him to take.

“I’m James. Or you can call me whatever you’re comfortable with.” Your hand was soft and warm against his.

Steve heard what Bucky told you and flushed pink when he had an inkling to what you were going to respond to that. He could almost see you smirking.

“How about da-”

“Y/N NO.” Steve cut you off, fighting laugh. Bucky looked between the two of you, confused and intrigued at the same time.  

“Steve, I called you that one time.”  

“Those civilian friends of yours really should have more manners.” He shook his head at the memory of you calling him ‘daddy’ one morning after your friends told you to do so.

Turning back to the confused man before you, you gave him a full-blown smile. “I’ll call you by your name, Bucky.”  

“Are you going with Steve?” He asked you.

“Nope. I still might be here once you wake up.”

----------

Main Masterlist   Marvel Masterlist

[texanstarslove]

everything has changed

A/N: So this little number is for @hockeynetwork‘s Winter Gift Exchange and I was matched with @bigboigritty​! I hope this fic lives up to your expectations, my dear! I was thrilled to write a fic for Nolan as I had yet to do so up until this point! I also want to give a special shout out to @danglesnipecelly​ for listening to me rant and rave and yell about this fic NON FUCKING STOP. LOVE YOU K! 

Song Inspo: Everything Has Changed - Taylor Swift ft. Ed Sheeran

Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, ridiculous amounts of fluff, cheesy friends to lovers trope 

Word Count: 8.5k

*italics indicate flashbacks*

~

They say that opposites attract, like fire and ice or Yin and Yang. Two completely different entities that have no business being together but somehow find a way to connect and create something beautiful.

That was the definition of your relationship with Nolan. 

You were the outgoing one, the one who would talk to anyone like you had known them your whole life without a second thought. You never met a stranger and were friendly and kind. One time while you were waiting for your coffee order at a local café you struck up a conversation with another customer over the most mundane of things: the straws sitting on the counter. That was just the kind of person you were. Always ready to chat with anyone about anything, sincerity in your voice at all times.

Nolan...not so much. He was a nice guy, yes, but he definitely didn’t have the same bubbly, loud, boisterous persona like you. He was happy to keep to himself, never really wanting to go out of his way to make small talk with anyone. Half the time when he spoke, it would come out as mumbles that were borderline incoherent. And although he was sometimes a person of very few words, he also carried an air of confidence. He wasn’t cocky by any means, just someone who seemed to be very sure of themselves most of the time. Some would say he gave off the vibe of someone who was constantly irritated or annoyed, a grump even.

But that was part of the reason he drew you in. He was intriguing to you. He made you want to get to know him better. He could say the same about you, how you made him want to open up in ways he never could with anyone else. The way you carried yourself made that easy, your nonjudgmental attitude made talking to you effortless.

When you first met Nolan, it was in the elevator of the apartment building you had just moved into. You were carrying the last of your belongings in perhaps one too many boxes, struggling to make it to the elevator before the doors closed. It was then, unbeknownst to either of you at the moment, that everything had changed.

“Hey, wait! Could you hold that for me?”

You moved as fast as you could, the person in the elevator holding their hand against the door to keep it open. You huffed out a ‘thank you’ before leaning against the wall to catch your breath, running your eyes over the person standing just a foot or two away from you. He was tall, easily towering over your smaller frame, hair swept under a cap that sat backward on his head. When you were finally able to get a good look at his face, the first thing that struck you were his eyes. They were the same as the sky and sea calming after a storm, swirls of gray and blue mixing seamlessly into one beautiful color. Something about those eyes made you stare just a little too long, your trance was only broken when he cleared his throat and glanced at you expectantly, his voice so much deeper than you thought it would sound like.

“What, uh...what floor?”

“Oh, um,” You blinked, shaking your head as if to bring you back to reality, and glanced at the button display to your left. The button for your floor, the sixth, was already illuminated. “Looks like mine has already been pressed. You headed to the sixth floor?”

The man just nodded, lifting his cap with one hand and running the fingers of his free hand through his hair before settling the cap back on his head. You cocked your head to the side, studying him once more. You immediately picked up on his reserved vibe but you felt compelled to talk to him some more.

“I’m assuming you live here, too?” 

He nodded his head again but turned slightly to face you so it didn’t look like he was ignoring you. You noticed his hands fidgeting in the front pocket of the black hoodie he was wearing as you continued to try and coax conversation from him.

“Do you like this complex?” You asked, “I read the reviews before I moved in and they all seemed pretty good. I figure asking a current resident how they felt about it would make me feel better about my decision.”

One of his hands leaves the pocket of his hoodie to rub the back of his neck. “It’s pretty nice. I just moved in this year and can’t really complain too much about it.”

“Yeah? That’s good to hear,” You replied, “This is the perfect spot between where I work and the university. I figured having someplace right in between would bode well for me.”

“Yeah, that definitely sounds like a good idea.”

You nodded your head, clicking your tongue as you thought of more things to say to keep conversation with him. The way that he spoke intrigued you. It was almost as if he was talking behind his teeth, his voice almost coming out as a mumble. You studied him some more, noticing how he slowly rocked back and forth on his heels, his eyes downcast as if to avoid eye contact. The vibe he was giving off wasn’t exactly standoff-ish, but he definitely wasn’t jumping at the chance to keep talking. You didn’t know what it was, but something about him pulled you in and you wanted to know more about him. The elevator dinging as it reached your floor interrupted your thoughts and you shifted the boxes in your hands as the doors opened. 

“Do you need help with that?” The man asked as the top box began to teeter over the edge of the one it was situated on.

“No, no,” You rushed, “I’ve got it.”

“You sure? It looks like you’re about to..”

Just as the words were about to escape his lips, the top two boxes came tumbling out of the elevator doors, its contents scattering across the floor. You sighed heavily, shaking your head at the scene in front of you before bursting into a fit of giggles. The man looked between you and the mess that had just been created by your stubbornness and sighed.

“Just like a woman,” He mumbled, “Never wanting to accept help.”

You caught on to the teasing in his monotone voice quickly, turning to stick your tongue out at him as you giggled some more. 

“Oh, shut it.” You shot back through your laughter, “You can help me now if you want.”

He chuckled softly, extending his arm out of the elevator as if to lead you out. You shook your head as you walked into the hallway, thankful no one else was around to see what a disaster you had created. You crouched down to begin picking up your things, throwing them haphazardly into the boxes on the ground. The man did the same, only he was a little more careful with your belongings as he placed them inside the boxes.

“God, you must think I’m a hot mess.” You sighed, putting the last few items back in their box. “I swear I’m a little more put together most of the time.”

“Not a hot mess,” He said, “A little talkative maybe but…”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry.” You cut him off, “I have a tendency to chat people’s ears off. I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.”

“Not at all,” He reassured you, “I’m used to it. I have a buddy who never shuts up so really, it doesn’t bother me.”

You smiled, nodding your head, grateful that he didn’t think you were a complete loon. It was at this point you realized you hadn’t even properly introduced yourself. “And you must think I’m incredibly rude making you help me pick up my shit when we don’t even know each other’s names.” You offered your hand to him. “(Y/N).”

He gently took your hand, squeezing lightly as he shook it. “Nolan.”

“Well, Nolan,” You stood from where you were crouched down, holding the boxes you could while he carried the others. “I really appreciate your help.”

“If you would’ve let me help you in the first place, this wouldn’t have happened.” That teasing was back again. He stood from his spot as well, a sly smirk spread across his lips.

You playfully bumped his hip with yours as the two of you walked down the hall to the front door of your apartment. Setting the boxes you were carrying beside the door frame, you pulled your keys from your jacket pocket and unlocked the door, gently pushing the boxes across the threshold with your foot before taking the remaining boxes from Nolan.

“This is crazy,” He mumbled, pointing over his shoulder, “My apartment is literally right across the hall.”

“Yeah?” You turned to face him once you set the last of the boxes inside, “That’s awesome! Maybe we’ll become best friends after all.”

Nolan smiled, his already rosy cheeks darkening just slightly, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

“Yeah, maybe.”

That chance meeting in that elevator was quite possibly the greatest thing to ever happen to you. Not only had you met your neighbor and actually got along with him, but you also became friends, best friends, almost instantly. It started with the occasional meet up at each other’s apartments, getting to know each other before hanging out almost regularly. Your polar opposite personalities meshed together perfectly, both of you bringing out the best in each other. Nolan felt like he could be 100% authentic, becoming more and more open with his feelings around you. He felt like he could tell you anything and all those feelings he had were reciprocated by you. You could tell each other anything about everything, sharing every aspect of your lives with the other. You were like two peas in a pod, attached at the hip whenever he was home. Eventually, the two of you had exchanged keys, mainly so when he was gone on road trips with his team you could bring in his mail so it wouldn’t pile up. He only held on to yours at your insistence.

“It’d be weird if I had your key and you didn’t have mine, Nolan.” You told him when he tried to brush it off. “Just take the damn thing. Just in case, you know?”

Most of the time, you were the one letting yourself into his apartment. You’d send a quick text of “I hope you’re decent, I’m coming over” before all but barging in, filling his usually quiet space with your over the top energy. It would be a lie if Nolan said it didn’t take some getting used to. He was so used to being by himself, him and his video games or music. And though you always told him he could, he really did not need to ever let himself into your apartment when you weren’t there. He wasn’t like you, always bringing him food or buying little trinkets and placing them in random spots in his apartment. He never complained about the meals but always balked at the idea of new decorations you managed to find for him. You insisted that he needed to liven up his space, that it looked too much like a jail cell instead of a place to call home.

“I like my place just fine, ma’am.” He once told you, poking at your latest purchase, a set of succulents. “Besides, I’ll just kill these fucking things anyway.”

“Then it’s a good thing I have a spare key.” You countered, placing the plants along the window sill. “I’ll make sure you don’t kill my babies.”

He laughed at your comparison of the plants to children. “Why don’t you just keep them at your place then? Why do they need to take up space in my apartment?”

“Quit arguing with me, Nols.” You scolded him, “Not in front of the kids.”

Conversations like that always ended with him chuckling and shaking his head, all but admitting defeat. He would never say it out loud to anyone, but he actually loved how much you seemed to care about his well being. While he was perfectly capable of doing things for himself, if it made you happy, that was all that mattered to him. There was something about the outgoing and sometimes clumsy girl he met in the elevator that made it all worth it. The mood was always lifted when you showed up and though he would tease you about invading his space or being obnoxious, you both knew he never meant a single word.

There were, however, those rare occasions where Nolan would use your key. It didn’t happen very often but whenever he was going through a particularly rough patch, he found solace in you. It could be about anything, the way a particular game went, how he as an individual player was performing or if he was just having a shitty day. Whatever brought him to the edge emotionally, he knew he could come to you. You always knew when it was coming, too. Instead of a normal greeting when he entered your apartment, you’d hear the door unlock before it opened slowly, Nolan trudging in without saying a word before closing the door behind him and flopping on your couch. He’d exhale loudly, a clear indicator that something was wrong, waiting for you to come sit beside him. 

That’s exactly what happened this time. Just as you finished up an online class, you heard the key in the lock. When you closed your laptop and glanced up at the door, Nolan was there with a sullen look on his face. He went through the normal routine, keeping quiet and not saying anything, just a nod of acknowledgment before sitting on your couch with a heavy sigh. You smiled sadly, placing your laptop back in its case before walking to sit down beside him.

“What’s up, Grumpy McGee?” You teased, taking your place on the couch and resting your head on his shoulder. Typically Nolan would huff out a laugh at your eloquent nicknames for him but not this time. When all you got in reply was yet another deep sigh, you leaned back taking in his appearance. His shoulders were slumped more than usual, his posture slouched and head hanging low. He avoided eye contact when you tried to move your head to look him in the eye.

“Nolan?” 

When his eyes finally met yours, you were taken aback by what you found within those ocean-blue depths. You had seen him angry, happy, frustrated; all of the feelings that came with the profession he was in. You had seen just about every emotion in those eyes but this one almost took your breath away. For the first time, when you looked into his eyes, you saw someone who was unsure of themself. Someone who lacked the confidence they so often carried with them, even if it was in a subtle way. 

“Hey,” You murmured, turning your body to face him, “Nolan, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing,” He mumbled, turning to avoid your gaze once more. “Just had a rough day is all.”

You knew he and the team had been going through a bit of a rough patch. The team had been on a bit of a skid going into the upcoming holiday break. There was one more short road trip before Christmas and you could already tell Nolan was stressing about it. Not just because of the team’s performance, but because of his own personal struggles. The pounding migraines he had been dealing with for the better part of the season had become more frequent, causing him to miss playing in a few games here and there. The way to go about managing the migraines was somewhat of a mystery to team doctors and trainers. While they were doing their best to help Nolan, and he knew they were exhausting every option available, nothing seemed to be working and it seemed that Nolan was finally at his breaking point.

“Are you feeling okay?” You gently ask, your hand running soothingly across his bicep. When he just shrugged his shoulders once more, you gave a light, reassuring squeeze to his arm, smiling softly when his eyes met yours again.

“I feel fine right now,” He sighed, “But these things fucking come out of nowhere. Never know when they’re going to hit me.”

You nodded, wordlessly encouraging him to continue. He needed to vent, you sensed it, needed to let out all of the emotions he was feeling.

“I just…” He trailed off, his fingers running through his hair as he huffed out another breath. “What if this ends my career, (Y/N)? What if these things get so bad I won’t be able to play anymore? I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t…”

“Hey, hey, hold on a second,” You scooted up onto your knees, kneeling next to him on the couch. “You are going to be just fine, Nolan.”

“You don’t know that, (Y/N),” He bemoaned, “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.” You insisted, “I do because the whole organization is on your side. You have some of the best doctors in Philadelphia working with them to help you. They’re going to find something that makes this better for you.”

“But what if they don’t?” His voice increased slightly in volume as he sat up a little straighter, “What if there is nothing they can do for me and this team drops me? What if they see there is no use waiting around for me to get better?” He drags his fingers through his hair before holding his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. When he speaks again his voice comes out in a whisper. “What if they give up on me?”

The uncertainty and brokenness in his voice made your breath hitch in your throat. Moving closer to him you gently took his face into your hands and turned his head to face you, making him look you in the eye. 

“They will not give up on you, Nolan.” You spoke with gentle firmness. “I just don’t see that happening. You will get better and you will have an amazing career here. And can I tell you something else?”

You could see the desperation in his eyes as he nodded.

“I’m never giving up on you,” You whispered, “That I know for an absolute fact. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

He chuckled softly at your remark and you smiled, running one of your thumbs along his skin beneath it. His gaze softened as you continued to hold his face, your thumb still gently caressing his cheekbone. You couldn’t quite decipher the expression on his face but it made your stomach flip, made your heart rate pick up just a little bit. It was a feeling you never felt being this close to Nolan and it startled you. You swore you saw his eyes flicker to your lips but before you could process that thought, you dropped your hands to his shoulders, giving them a gentle couple of pats before moving back to your previous spot on the couch. “You want to grab something to eat? We can order in if you want?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” He stuttered, shaking his head as if he was trying to clear his mind. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

“Of course it does,” You teased, giving his shoulder a little nudge as you stood from your spot on the couch. “You never turn down food.”

“Busted.” He gave you a small smile as he watched you make your way into the kitchen. You stood at the counter, pulling out a to-go menu from your favorite restaurant and your phone, dialing the number to place the order. You couldn’t see it but as you talked on the phone, Nolan watched you intently. He watched the way you confidently spoke and how you paced around the kitchen, making small talk with the person who was taking the order. You couldn’t see the way he looked at you with complete adoration or feel the way his heart pounded in his chest when he heard you speak. You couldn’t see the smile that spread across his lips, a smile that only you could bring out of him. You also couldn’t hear the voice in his head beating him up over not pressing his lips to yours as you held his face in your hands. He didn’t understand where the intense urge came from at that moment, but he knew he so desperately wanted to know what your lips felt like against his own. 

“You alright over there, space cadet?” 

Your voice brought him out of a trance when you spoke to him. He blinked in quick succession, seemingly willing his brain to come back to reality before he gave a quick nod. “Yeah, I guess I kind of zoned out there for a second.”

“I’ll say,” You chuckled, returning to your spot on the couch, flopping down beside him. “The food should be here in about thirty minutes or so.”

“Sounds good.”

The rest of the night carried on as usual. You and Nolan finished your meals and fell into your normal routine of tv and conversations about literally anything. You tried to keep things light and fun, attempting to keep Nolan’s mind off of the struggles facing him and his team. The two of you bantered and laughed and carried on as you normally would for the remainder of the evening. Occasionally you found yourself staring a little longer at him as he watched whatever was on, studying the angles of his face in the flickering lights of the tv. You had always thought that his facial features gave him an angelic look, a juxtaposition to how he spoke and how he carried himself. You smiled, hunkering down further into the couch as you got more comfortable and got pulled into the television show. You eventually found yourself dozing off as a random Christmas movie played on the screen. You had laid yourself across the couch, your legs swung across Nolan’s lap. It wasn’t until you felt him gently tap your thigh that you realized you had fallen asleep.

“Hey,” You heard his low voice speak, “(Y/N), I think we should call it a night.”

You stretched as you slowly sat up, a soft groan escaping your lips. “What time is it?”

Nolan looked down at his phone, checking the time before looking back at you as he also stretched. “It’s just past eleven. I should go, got an early flight tomorrow.”

“Right,” You grumbled, “Okay. I’ll walk you out.”

He nodded and got up to stand in front of you, reaching his hands out for you to take. He gently pulled you up but even still, being the clumsy person you are, you stumbled forward slightly, hands pressing into his chest and his catching you at your waist. You looked up at him and found the same look in his eyes as earlier when he confided in you. That same feeling you had was creeping back in as well and you held his gaze for a moment longer than necessary. You quickly averted your eyes and cleared your throat, walking with him to your front door.

“Thank you for tonight, (Y/N).” Nolan leaned against the door frame, half in the outside hallway and half still in your apartment. 

“Anytime.” You grinned, “Always happy to be of service. Someone’s gotta feed you.”

He chuckled, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “So, uh, I’ll see you in a couple of days, yeah? Going to G and Ryanne’s for that party?”

“You know it.” You replied, “Have a safe flight, Nols. Text me when you guys get there.”

“Will do.” He saluted you before pushing off the door frame and turning to cross the hall to his apartment. You watched as he unlocked his door and opened it to head inside for the night. Just before he closed the door behind him, you called out to him.

“Hey, Nolan?” He turned to look at you, a questioning look in his eyes. 

“What’s up?”

You smiled softly, leaning your head against the threshold of your apartment. “I think you’re amazing. You know that, right?”

He leaned his forearm against his door frame and smiled. 

“I think you’re amazing, too.”

You smiled as you closed your door, leaning against it when it latched shut, and took a deep breath. Something in the air felt different and you couldn’t quite explain it. It made you nervous, anxious even, but you also couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips. Something felt different between you and Nolan and even though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, you knew that everything had changed.

~

With the Flyers’ road trip winding down and it going in a way that wasn’t exactly favorable, you knew there was more than likely going to be a bit of a cloud over the holidays. The boys managed to sneak in one win out of the three games played but knowing them like you did, it wasn’t something they were going to tout as a success. You also knew, given your knowledge as to how his mind worked and the existing personal struggles he was facing, that Nolan would be extra critical of himself. He’d try and disguise it, not wanting to put a damper on the upcoming holiday festivities, but you knew him better than that. 

That is how you found yourself in his apartment yet again, only this time decorating it to fit the Christmas theme. You knew it was excessive, you knew it was over the top and ridiculous, but if it would bring any semblance of a smile to that boy’s face it was all worth the complaining he’d undoubtedly do when he walked into his apartment. You had managed to snag some Christmas decorations on the cheap, scouring bargain stores for everything from lights and garland and stockings to even a tree with accompanying ornaments. When you finally deemed your collection enough to decorate with, you let yourself into his apartment and put things in place little by little over the course of the weekend. The guys were slated to be home by early afternoon with the Christmas party at Claude and Ryanne’s later in the evening, allowing everyone a little bit of time to decompress then have a little bit of fun before heading to their respective homes for the holidays. 

Holiday music was filling the apartment, your soundtrack to your latest decorating endeavor. The cheesy gas fireplace in the living room served as the perfect spot to hang some lighted garland and the stockings. Fairy lights adorned every spot in which it was feasible to place them. There were even candles that were purchased, their scent matching the season but ultimately used for the ambiance they provided as well. Decorating the tree was saved until the very last moment. As you danced and sang to the sounds of Andy Williams and Bruce Springsteen, you methodically placed the red and gold ornaments on the tree. You even snuck a small Gritty ornament in the mix, making sure to give a nod to the mascot you knew Nolan loved and adored, hoping he’d find it and smile. As it all came together, you pulled out the last item to place on the tree, it’s topper. You loved how when the little star was placed at the top it felt like the finishing touch to it all, giving finality to all your hard work. You stood back a couple of feet from the tree and looked on in contentment, happy with how the decorations turned out. You chuckled to yourself, knowing that when Nolan walked into the room when he got home he’d instantly know who to blame for Christmas practically exploding in his space.

Admiring the room in its entirety one last time, you smiled once more to yourself, proud of what you were able to accomplish. You knew Nolan would be shocked, and probably bitch and moan about it, but in the end, he’d have a laugh and hopefully feel just a little bit of the holiday spirit. You blew out the candles, their scent lingering in the air, before heading back across the hallway to your apartment. It was nearly lunchtime, meaning you had more than enough time to clean up and get ready for the team Christmas party. You pulled out your phone, seeing you had received a text from Nolan saying he and the boys had just landed and would be back home soon.

You: Happy you guys made it back safely! I’ll be ready for G’s party around 6, that should be enough time for you to nap or whatever, right?

Nolan: Yeah sounds good to me.

The two of you exchanged just a few more texts before he needed to drive home. The extra time before the party allowed you to get a few house chores done before actually beginning to get ready. Not even an hour after your text exchange with him, your phone began to ring, Nolan’s name flashing across the display. You smiled broadly, already anticipating what his reaction to his newly decorated apartment would be.

“You’re supposed to be taking a nap, no?” You tried to hide the giggle threatening to bubble up, knowing exactly why he was calling you.

“Don’t you act like you don’t know exactly why I am calling you, (Y/N).” Nolan’s gravelly voice greeting your ear, “Why the fuck does it look like Christmas threw up in my apartment?”

“You don’t like it?” You feigned shock and hurt, “Come on, Nols, don’t be such a Grinch!”

“Ha, fucking, ha.” Nolan retorted, sarcasm dripping from his voice, “Seriously, you’ve outdone yourself. This is absolutely ridiculous.”

“Mission accomplished, then!” You cheered, “Now hang up the damn phone and take your nap! We have a party to go to tonight and I expect you to be my date.”

Nolan scoffed. “Oh, with this latest stunt I’m taking away your plus one status.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” You gasped, earning a hearty chuckle from Nolan. 

Of course, he never would. It would be like sucking the life out of the party leaving things so much more boring if you weren’t around. Having you at his side to these events and gatherings made it all worthwhile, even if you were just tagging along as his friend. “TK and Hayesy would never let me hear the end of it if I did. And you’d end up bugging me to go all the time anyway.”

It was your turn to laugh now. You know those boys liked to rib Nolan to no end about his relationship with you, asking when he’d ‘wife you up’ or why you spent all your time with a guy like Nolan. It was all in good fun, though. They were never malicious or had any ill will, in fact, they were just the opposite. You two would never know it but the guys on the team, and some of their significant others, were secretly waiting for the day the two of you would get together. Though you and Nolan both insisted your relationship was no more than a friendship, your friends were not convinced in the slightest. You’d both just shrug off the comments and jokes, nothing ever really bothering either of you. 

“Well, you can’t disappoint them then!” You teased, “Now seriously, get some beauty rest and pick me up at six.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He replied through his laughter.

“See you in a little bit, Nols.”

You said your goodbyes and continued with your day, doing the various chores you set out to finish and allowing yourself more than the usual time it took for you to get ready. After showering and picking out an outfit, something festive but not over the top, you sat at your vanity with your makeup spread out in front of you. You took your time, playing yet another Christmas playlist to help set the mood for the get together you’d be attending. Something about the music and festivities put you in a wonderful mood and made you even more excited to see everyone before they all headed back to their respective homes for the holidays. 

As you were putting on your earrings, the finishing touch to your look, your phone buzzed on the countertop as a text came through. You glanced down and saw that it was from Nolan, asking if you were finished getting ready.

Nolan: Your Uber is waiting for you outside the door.

You: Ew, that’s creepy. I didn’t think they did that. 

Nolan: Kidding of course. Can I come in?

You: As long as you aren’t the creepy Uber driver.

You smiled to yourself as you sprayed the last bit of hairspray in your hair and looked over your appearance once more. Satisfied with the finished look, you grabbed your purse and walked into your living room, just in time to see the front door open and for Nolan to walk through.

“Creepy Uber driver has arrived.” He called out as he shut the door behind him. At first, he didn’t notice you had walked into the living room, speaking louder than he normally would, but then his eyes landed on you and they seemed to widen as he took in your appearance. “Wow, (Y/N)..you look..”

“Do you think this is okay?” You asked, “I know they said casual but I didn’t want to just show up in what I normally wear so I-”

“Hey, you look great,” Nolan assured you, “I mean, I thought you’d be wearing one of those ugly Christmas sweaters given how you decorated my apartment so this is a nice surprise.”

You playfully smacked him in the chest before linking your arm with his. “Let’s get this show on the road.” 

The drive to the Giroux household was nothing short of typical for the two of you. There was the usual chirping from you about how Nolan was driving and the incessant moaning and groaning from him about the music you chose to play.

“Any time you’re on the AUX cord, no good music is played.” He complained, attempting and failing to take the cord from you as he drove.

“Nolan, we are on our way to a fucking Christmas party,” You said, “It would be sacrilege if we didn’t play any Christmas music! Now focus on driving before you kill us.”

He shook his head in defeat, chuckling softly at the small little victory dance you did in your seat as you played your music. Every now and then he’d steal a glance at you, watching as you happily sang and danced to every song that played. He’d never admit how much he actually enjoyed the cheesy holiday music, mostly because of the joy it brought you. Everything that made you happy made him happy. Seeing you smile made him smile. Every little thing you did for him, no matter how much he may have complained about it outwardly, made him feel like he was on top of the world. Sitting in the driver’s seat of his car, thinking these thoughts, feeling these feelings at this very moment made him come to a not so shocking realization. 

He was madly in love with you. He was so head over heels for you and it took his breath away. 

He took a deep breath, one that caused his chest and shoulders to rise and fall dramatically and you took notice. As he pulled the car into the drive, you raised an eyebrow at him and cocked your head to the side.

“You alright over there?”

He shifted the car into park and offered you a small smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

You gave him a beaming smile, unbuckling your seatbelt to get out of the car and head inside. “Come on, Mr. Grinch, let’s go see everyone.”

He watched as you climbed out of the passenger seat, shutting the door behind you, and walking up to the front door of the Giroux’s home. When he saw you turn to see if he was going to follow, mouthing a ‘Come on!’ as you waved, he sighed once more, climbing out of the car himself. That big, wide grin was still plastered on your face as he walked up beside you, you linking your arm with his once again. Looking down at you, seeing how excited you were as the two of you walked up to the door only solidified his earlier thoughts. He knew in this very moment that everything between you had changed.

~

The evening carried on at a relaxed pace, Claude and Ryanne being the wonderful hosts they always were. The guys with families brought their children along and the entire night was filled with plenty of laughs and entertainment. You always found yourself gravitating to the kiddos when they were involved. That’s how Nolan caught up with you after the two of you were separated for a little while. You were sitting and chatting with Ryanne, bouncing a happy little Gavin on your knee.

“How is it that you always manage to end up with the kids?” He asked you as he came to stand beside you. His finger lightly poked at Gavin’s belly making the toddler giggle excitedly. “What’s up, little man?”

You smiled up at him and bounced your knee, continuing Gavin’s giggles. “I can’t help it. He’s the cutest guy in the room.”

“Can’t argue with you there.” He replied, “Thanks for hosting all of us, Ryanne. It’s been fun, as always.”

“Oh, of course!” Ryanne smiled, “It’s a blast, we love having everyone here.”

Nolan turned back to you as he spoke again. “I was going to get something to drink, did you want me to grab you anything?”

“I’m okay, thanks.” You looked back at the giggling toddler still in your lap. “I just need a few more Gavin cuddles and I should be ready to go soon if you are.”

“Yeah, okay.” He nodded, “I’ll meet up with you in a little bit then, yeah?”

He gave your shoulder a light squeeze before making his way to the kitchen, seemingly making small talk with Kevin.

“He’s got it bad for you, girl.” Ryanne gushed when Nolan was out of earshot.

You felt your cheeks warm, butterflies running rampant in your tummy before brushing her comment aside. “You’re crazy. We’re just friends, Ry.”

“And I think you are lying to yourself.” She countered, “He’s a good guy, (Y/N).”

“I know that,” You agreed, “He’s my best friend, of course I know that.”

Ryanne just smiled, that ‘If you say so’ kind of look that she gives you every time this subject comes up. She, just like all your other friends, never pushed the envelope with you. She respected your boundaries but she was always one of your biggest cheerleaders. She was like how Claude was for his team except in her place in the WAGs group, really in the whole friends group entirely; the momma of the group. She would have your back no matter what and support you with no questions asked. 

“So tell me about how he reacted to your Christmas decorations.” She said, changing the subject, “Did he freak out over it?”

“Oh, god, it was hysterical.”

You indulged Ryanne in all the details of your decorating assault on Nolan’s apartment, telling her about how you almost lost your invitation to the evening’s festivities. The laughter you two shared echoed through the living room and into the kitchen, Nolan of course taking notice of your laughter specifically. He was leaning against the island that overlooked the living room, smiling at how much fun you seemed to be having in telling whatever story you were to Ryanne. He felt a pair of hands land heavily on his shoulders, a hard squeeze being given to both, before that all too familiar Boston accent filled his ears.

“Buddy, come on.” Kevin chuckled, “You have got to say something to that girl.”

Nolan turned to face his friend who had leaned on the island beside him. He attempted to give Kevin a nonchalant, playing it cool response and shrugged his shoulders. “What are you talking about? Tell her what?”

 “Don’t give me that shit, kid.” Kevin told him, “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Nolan sighed, one of his hands coming up to run down his face. There was really no point in trying to play it off anymore. Of everyone in this house, aside from Ryanne, Kevin knew exactly how Nolan felt about you. Though unlike Ryanne, Kevin wasn’t going to play games with Nolan. He had sat back for too long watching the both of you deny, deny, deny and he was ready to at least call Nolan on his bullshit.

“What, no smart ass comeback this time?” Kevin chuckled when Nolan didn’t respond. As he watched him for a second longer, he knew Nolan had recognized his own feelings. “Oh, shit, you do have feelings for her, don’t you?”

“Don’t act like you’re surprised.” Nolan retorted.

“I’m not surprised you have feelings for her, bud.” Kevin clarified, “I’m surprised you’ve finally admitted it. Took ya long enough!”

Again, Nolan sighed, this time in annoyance. “Well, keep it down, you big idiot. I don’t need to spring any surprises on her like this.”

Kevin just laughed, taking a swig of the beer he was nursing. He watched as Nolan turned his attention back to where you were still chatting with Ryanne. He could tell just by the way Nolan was looking at you that he had it bad, just like Ryanne had told you earlier. One of his hands came up to Nolan’s shoulder once more, gaining his attention once more.

“Can I tell you something without you getting defensive on me?”

Nolan raised an eyebrow. “That depends on what comes out of your mouth.”

“Fair enough,” Kevin chuckled, “In all seriousness though, Patty, that girl loves you too. I’m just sayin’.”

“How do you know that?” Nolan scoffed, “I didn’t even say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.” Kevin grinned, taking another sip of his beer. “But I have a feeling that if you told her how you felt, I’d be right.”

Nolan looked back at you once more just as you were finishing your conversation with Ryanne. You caught his eye and smiled that big, beautiful smile he loved so much as you stood to walk over to him. Kevin gave him one last pat on the back as you made your way to where they were standing.

“Ready to go, Nols?” You asked, tucking into his side.

He nodded, turning back to Kevin to give him the handshake-hug hybrid thing that men like to do. 

“Remember what I said,” Kevin told him before turning to you and pulling you into a hug. “Have a good night, sweetheart. Don’t let this guy give you any trouble.”

“I know who to come running to if he does,” You laughed, “See you around, Kev.”

You and Nolan said goodbye to the remaining partygoers before heading back out to his car. Per your usual, you snagged the auxiliary cord before Nolan could reach for it, expecting a fight out of him like always. When he did nothing but chuckle at your antics you got your first clue that something was going on in his head. You let it go, however, chalking it up to you just reading too far into his actions. But when the car ride back to your shared complex was quieter than normal, no words being exchanged between the two of you, you knew for sure something was up. You turned the volume on the car stereo down and turned in your seat as best you could to look at him.

“You okay, Nolan?” 

He glanced over at you, still trying to keep his eyes on the road. “Yeah, I’m good. Why what’s up?”

“You’re just quieter than normal,” You replied, “Are you feeling okay?”

“Just tired is all,” He mumbled, reaching across the console and taking your hand in his and giving it a squeeze, “I’m good though.”

He didn’t let go of your hand. Even after he stopped talking he didn’t let go of your hand. You tried not to outwardly show how you were feeling on the inside. Your heart rate jumped, feeling like it was beating rapidly in your throat. You felt your face get hot and you were thankful that it was dark out, only street lights illuminating your face as Nolan drove. You tried to calm yourself as Nolan pulled the car back into his usual spot back at the complex parking garage. The two of you walked into your building, your hand still burning from his touch. The silence between you two remained but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You could understand why Nolan would be tired, having flown back home and attending a Christmas party all in the same day. As you went to pull out your keys, Nolan stopped you, nodding toward his apartment door.

“You want to come in for a little bit?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck like he was nervous.

“Y-yeah,” You stammered, not sure where the sudden nervous energy was coming from, “Sure. That should be fine.”

He gave you a small smile before unlocking his door, letting you walk in first before closing the door behind him. You took off your shoes, leaving them by the front door, and removed your coat and scarf, draping them over one of the barstools at the kitchen counter. The only light in the apartment was that of the lights you used to decorate with. When Nolan went to turn on one of the lamps you stopped him.

“This is the best way to enjoy the Christmas lights,” You told him, “Come look at the tree with me, please?”

Nolan gave you a small nod and came to stand beside you. The lights gave off a soft, warm white glow and you smiled as you admired your handiwork. “Did you notice that I hid Gritty in there?”

You heard Nolan chuckle softly before replying. “Yeah, I did. He really makes the tree.”

You giggled, nudging his hip with your own. He smiled back at you, watching as you continued to look over the tree. He knew you were proud of the work you had done and that warmed his heart. He also couldn’t help looking at how beautiful your face looked lit up by nothing but the soft glow of Christmas lights. His gaze lingered for a while and when you felt it, you turned so your body was facing him, giving a puzzled look.

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. Just…” He shook his head, looking down at the ground before his eyes met yours. “Thank you.”

“For what?” You questioned, your head cocking slightly. 

“For everything.” He murmured, his fingers coming up to brush your hair behind your ear. “For being my friend, taking care of me. For being you.”

“Nolan, you don’t have to thank me…” 

“I know,” He insisted, the hand that came up to your face lingering just a little longer, not yet dropping back to his side. “I know I don’t but I want to.”

“Nolan…” 

“I also want to do one more thing.”

Before you could even process a response, he was stepping closer to you and his other hand joined the first in cupping your cheeks and tilting your head upward, his lips pressing to yours in a gentle but sure kiss. You gasped softly, your eyes a small noise of surprise escaping you and your hands clasped around his wrists. His kiss was soft, gentle enough to not scare you away but it wasn’t tentative. You knew without a doubt that this was something Nolan was sure of and with just a second’s hesitation as you regained your bearings, you kissed him back, and as you did so Nolan sighed into the kiss, relief flooding him. Your eyes fluttered shut, throwing yourself into the moment. You kissed him back with the same gentle urgency, allowing his tongue to tangle with yours when you felt it trace your bottom lip. You don’t know how long the two of you kissed. Eventually, the urgency calmed and you fell into slow, languid movements until you both needed to come up for air. Your eyes remained closed for a moment longer as you felt Nolan’s forehead rest gently on yours. When you opened them once more, you were met with the ocean blue eyes that, though at the time you hadn’t realized it, you fell in love with the moment you saw them. Your hands were still clasped around his wrists, thumbs brushing the tops of his hands as you smiled up at him before he broke the silence first.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.” 

You giggled softly, letting go of his wrists and pushing up onto your tiptoes so you could wrap your arms around his neck. “That was nice.”

Nolan chuckled, his hands dropping to your waist. “I’ve had feelings for you I think from the start.”

“Oh is that what that means?” You teased, giving his nose a quick peck. “I thought it was just a ‘thank you for decorating my apartment, (Y/N)’.”

He gently squeezed your sides, eliciting a surprised squeak from you. That soft smile of his graced his face once more before he spoke again. “I’m serious. I think that maybe… I think I’ve loved you for a long time now.”

“You love me?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” He replied, his hand rubbing your sides, “Yeah, I love you.”

You grinned from ear to ear, Nolan’s smile almost matching yours before you pushed your lips to his again, loving how they felt on your own. You were nearly breathless when you pulled away again, speaking in a hushed tone. “Good, because this would have been so fucking weird if this was just your way of saying thank you.”

Nolan quirked an eyebrow, his little smirk spreading across his lips. “So it’s not weird?”

“No, you idiot,” You giggled, “Because I love you, too.”

He pulled you into one more kiss, this one just as slow and gentle as the very first. You couldn’t describe the happiness that was flowing through your veins, but you did know one thing. It was there, in the ridiculously decorated living room of his apartment, beneath the warm glow of Christmas lights, that everything had changed.

[burntmcnuggies]

Hi! Can i request a hawks x fem! reader where hawks kind of has bird-like tendencies? She’s pretty good friends with him, and sometimes he whistles and stuff when she’s around (like a mating call/song) and one time she was talking to another pro hero and hawks gets jealous (but it’s his bird side so he can’t control it) and his wings puff up and stretch out as a show of dominance or something. And they get really bright too! The media reports the event and he confesses how he feels 🥺 tysm!

Of course! 🥺

I’m so happy to have actually gotten a request!! This is actually my... fourth Hawks story? And I feel I’m getting better at his personality! If any of you have constructive criticism I’m all ears! Ready to improve! I tend to over study characters before I write them so I have a good understand to deliver the best for everyone! :D

I wasn’t sure if you wanted smut or fluff... so I did both! A wholesome pure one and a spicy sexy one!

I really hope you enjoy this! ❤️

Both stories are almost exactly the same except for the ending, so in the end if you want smut, go to the NSFW one! 18+ only please! :)

➪ NSFW <3

Jealous Bird (Fluff)

Warnings: strong language, suggestive themes towards breeding, and that’s it!

“Mornin’ chicken wing. What’re we doin’ for breakfast? I paid last time so this is allll on you.” Hawks sent a playful wink towards you as he landed beside you from his previous place in the air, holding his hand up and rubbing his index and thumb together as a sign he wanted you to pay. You rolled your eyes and rose your hand, mocking him. “Don’t forget who spent hours doing YOUR paperwork because a certain birdbrain was too lazy to do it.” Hawks held up his hands in defeat and slumped over, sticking out his bottom lip, over exaggerating his facial expressions. He whined and let his wings droop. “C’mon just one more time? Pretty please with your favorite pretty bird on top?”

“Stop dragging your wings, you’re gonna get them dirty.” You scolded and pat his back, slightly feeling how tense his shoulders were. You were about to offer to give him a massage later, not wanting your friend to have to sleep tonight with stiff muscles until you noticed something. His wings were almost glowing a whole new shade now. Such a vibrant and beautiful color. It was then realizing how close you were that you could hear a faint cooing bubbling from his throat. “...? The fuck are you doing Hawks?” He looked over confused and tilted his head. You grumbled at his lack of knowing exactly what he was doing. “Do you even have complete control over your body? You don’t even realize you’re whistling and cooing like some pigeon.”

You completely missed the pissed off look that crossed his face at your comment. He plastered on a cheeky smile and put his hands behind his back, picking his wings off the ground and tucking them firmly behind his back. “Nah, sometimes my bird-side comes out, especially during spring. God I go fuckin’ crazy. Sometimes it’s early and i have to take a whole week off a work!” You looked up to a couple trees you both passed while you were walking to your usual breakfast place, KFC —Although you always argue you want to go somewhere else. It was late winter, very close to spring, about March. You never kept up with the date. “Why do you take a whole week off?”

“Animal Mutant types like me would understand. Just like Mirko! Haha, I’m sure she’s the worst right now bein’ it’s early March!” He laughed and put his hands out, his hands snaking into his pockets to firmly stick there once more. You pouted, wanting to know exactly what Hawks was talking about. You told Hawks everything, but he didn’t give you the same treatment. “I’ll just ask Mirko later then if you refuse to tell me.” Hawks quickly wagged his finger side to side in front of your face, his other hand being placed on his hip now. You were familiar with his body language and how much he loved using his hands. “Nah ah, chicken wing. You do that and she’s gonna pounce on you. You won’t see light for days!”

“Mirko has accidentally jumped on me before, it’s not like we haven’t sparred before! I can withstand some punches and kicks!” Hawks sulked again, his hands digging back into his pockets, displaying his annoyance that you weren’t listening to him. He just looked away and shrugged his shoulders back. “Just trust me, kiddo. It’d be for the best you didn’ see Mirko, especially at a time like this. I know how she feels.” You were starting to get irritated at his lack of response to your question, only dodging it and making you sit in suspense. Finally you gave up and decided to bring it back up later. “I’m just gonna stop asking, you’re obviously not gonna answer me are you?”

“Haha! Nope! You know me too well, (Y/N).” You both arrived at KFC, immediately greeted by the manager and many of Hawks’ fans who knew he came there a lot. Many asked for his autograph or a selfie, but he refused politely. “I’ll do some after I get some chicken! I’m starved!” Super fans offered to even pay for his food, to which he declined, saying that you were kind enough to have already offered to pay for his food. A total fat lie! He begged you to pay! You sent him a glare and proceeded just to order both your meals while Hawks spoke with his fans. “Well, guess I can start then! Who’s first?” After he saw you were paying and ordering, he began to sign autographs and take selfies that would no doubt be on social media in minutes.

“Man! I sure do have a lot of supportive and loyal fans! Must suck never bein’ noticed.” Hawks passively insulted your rank as a pro hero by taking a jab at your ranking. You were somewhere in the mid thirties. Not popular at all, especially in this part of Japan where Hawks was born. “At least I have fans who aren’t thirsty for me! People who don’t dream of kissing me so passionately and marrying me.” You smirked and rose your hands shrugging your shoulders, before hugging yourself. You bit your lip, closing your eyes and squirming with a dreamy smile, mocking his thirsty fan girls. “Oh Hawks! Please marry me... I love you so much. Kiss me... let’s start a family, and be the happiest couple ever~”

You didn’t notice the way his wings trembled and his face reddened, his avian eyes widening as he watched you speak in such a way. He shook it off quickly before he got out of control and leaned forward towards you smirking. “At least I have fans cravin’ me~ haven’t heard of anyone wantin’ your boring ass!” He gave a closed eye smile and brought his hands up to give you a big fat thumbs down. Your eye twitched and you remained silent, not having a comment. That was until you remembered a villain hitting on you not too long ago. “Well at least I’ve had a villain fawn over me! I can still remember it clearly! ‘Oh fuck, I would turn good to get a piece of that ass!’”

This time you noticed how his brows furrowed, and his wings fluffed up, almost as if he just had a whole shiver rake through his body. “When was this?” He asked, his head now resting in his right hand, staring intently. You thought about it for a minute, before taking a wild guess. “Ehh, about like a couple months ago.” This only put him in a more sour mood. You didn’t understand why he was acting so strange. Maybe it was what you talked about? Obviously you’d never talked about anything romantic with Hawks, but on the topic of thirty fans want for him, you wanted to make jokes since he was always mocking you and making sly insults. “Sorry... I didn’t mean to make things awkward.”

“Nah, it’s fine. It’s not your fault. Well... it kinda is.” He admitted afterwards and smirked at you teasingly as if you would already know it was your fault. You frowned, about to open your mouth again before they called your number to get your food. You sighed and stood from your seat, walking over to the counter and retrieving the food, however, you were stopped by a man. He was young, about nineteen or twenty, quite handsome. “Excuse me miss, this may sound really straightforward and all but, you’re really pretty, and I was wondering if I could get your number?” You blushed a bit and looked away. You were a bit weary, but decided anyways. “I-I don’t know... I guess so. You seem nice. It’s-“

“Hey man, you gotta hobby of stealin’ other people’s things?” A gloved band came in contact with your shoulder, and a large shadow cast over you and the man in front of you. The man gasped in amazement at seeing the number two pro hero standing before him, it would’ve been a better experience if Hawks wasn’t threatening him with his looks and smart-ass remarks. “Huh? Oh! S-Sorry I didn’t-“ Hawks rudely interrupted the man, his gloved hand squeezing harder. His smile was obviously forced, and his feathers were starting to fluff up every second that past he stood in front of this guy. “Eh don’t worry about, you didn’ know. Now that ya do, don’t come near her again, Kay?”

And in the blink of an eye, Hawks pulled you away and out of the fast food restaurant. He aggressively pulled out the food and shoved yours against your chest, unwrapping his quickly and munching on it. “What the hell Hawks?! That was a bit much! He was being nice! It’s not like we’re dating or anything...” You trailed off, watching his wings twitch and fluff. You had noticed his strange behavior for a couple days now. His feathers would fluff up every now and again —you had no idea why— especially near men. And he would always make these weird sounds whenever the two of you got close. “You should be thankin’ me chicken wing. I just saved you from a world of heartbreak.”

“That’s not your place to decide, Hawks. I don’t intervene when women ask for your phone number.” You crossed yours arms and turned your nose up at his childish behavior. He didn’t respond, finishing his breakfast and throwing away his trash in a nearby can. His hands slipping back into his pockets, displaying that he was closing himself off from you now. Of course, you began to become irritated at his lack of voice, but you decided to let it go and not pressure him further. You unwrapped your food and took a bite of the savory meal. “You’ve been acting weird lately ya know? I’m getting worried...”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.” Oh how you hated his emotionless voice, so bland and robotic, it honestly pained you. His eyes were sharp, quick to notice your saddened expression. Hawks sighed heavily and stuck his bottom lip out, wrapping his arm around your arms and pulling you close to him. “I’m one of the top five pros, you don’ gotta worry about me, chicken wing. Cheer up.” You smiled and shoved him off, only a bit happy his cocky and arrogant behavior had returned. The Hawks you knew and cherished. “You know, I hate you sometimes, but I can’t help but love you at the same time.”

“Who doesn’t love me? The sexiest bird-man around.” He smirked and gave you a flirtatious look, a small sound bubbling from his throat similar to a whistle. You returned his smirk with a teasing smile. You were almost immune to his flirty charm, key-word; almost. Hawks was definitely an attractive man. Those piercing eyes with dark markings around them, only making the color pop and glow. His messy hair swept back and disheveled. Let’s not forget about those bushy eyebrows of his, they almost look like feathers from his wings, only a beautiful blonde color just like his hair. You could probably do without his egotistical attitude and vulgar tongue, but that was still all part of his charm. “Move!”

You were surprised by Hawks suddenly grabbing you and jerking you out of the way of an attack from a villain. You were right there in his chest, feeling his warmth, hearing the harsh thumping of his heart at the thought of almost losing you. Before he had a chance to say what he wanted. “Well there goes our leisurely patrol. And more paper work on our desks.” Hawks grunted in annoyance and took to the air. You finally regained your composure and got into your fighting stance. “Ready to kick some ass Hawks?! Whoever lands the final blow is treated to lunch!”

“Heh, you don’t stand a chance! Show me whatcha got!”

—

“Thanks Edgeshot... I totally owe you one.” You scratched the back of your neck with an awkward smile as you stood in front of the current number four hero. While Hawks was on the assault, eager to show off and boost his already high ego, you tried to get a sneak attack in, but the villain noticed you. They were about to attack you, before Edgeshot came and got you out of the way. Hawks didn’t take this too well. He became angry immediately and finished off the villain in a matter of seconds. “No thanks necessary, (H/N). I was just doing my job.” You hated being in debt to someone more than anything, so you quickly threw out an offer.

“Please! Let me take you out for drinks! Honestly! I’ve gotta do something! I-“ Suddenly a large shadow cast over you for the second time that day. You turned around and shrunk down noticing Hawks’ wings spread wide, fluffed to the brim and shaking in anger and jealousy. His face was red and his eyes were narrowed at Edgeshot. He was angry at himself for not being able to protect you himself, and at Edgeshot for rescuing you and holding you close. That was supposed to be him. “H-Hawks? What’s wron-“ Edgeshot was the one who answered your main question earlier before Hawks could even get another word out. The answer shocked you to your core, finally understanding why he was acting so weird.

“He’s showing his dominance, and in a public place no less, how careless.” You looked at the ninja hero confused before you turned your attention back to Hawks. Dominance? His wings were such a beautiful vibrant color now. A shade of red you’d never seen before on him. A sudden flash captured your eyes, taking your attention away from his beautiful wings. The media was eating this up. Soon it would reach the Hero Public Safety Commission and the president would not like this one bit. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). But I’m impatient, I can’t wait any longer.” Your eyes widened as your attention was fully back on Hawks now. You opened your mouth about to ask what he meant, but something was preventing you from doing so.

Hawks’ lips were firmly placed upon your own, his bright red rings wrapping around the both of you to shield you from any watchful eyes wanting to take a peek at you. His lips were soft, his hands finding themselves on your waist, pulling you flush against his body. You were shocked, your eyes wide, heart hammering wildly out of your chest at the sudden action. Slowly, you began to kiss him back, falling victim to his charm and passionate ways. He was quickly heating up the kiss, but you placed your hands on his chest firmly, pushing him away just enough to separate your lips. He was chasing your lips, desperate to get another kiss. You sent him a silencing glare and he smiled nervously, unsure of what you were thinking.

“Uh... oops?”

——

“Breaking News! Pro-Hero Hawks was seen acting quite strange this morning. We have multiple eye witness accounts saying his behavior was aggressive in sorts. Many people claim after the latest villain attack, Hawks confronted Pro-Hero Edgeshot! What an intimidating display by one of the most top ranked heroes! We’re not sure on the full details, stay tuned for more on the story later.” The whole time the video played the camera was zoomed in on Hawks. His vibrant wings spread dominantly, visibly fluffed and shaken up. It was incredibly lucky they didn’t catch you both kissing —even though his wings were covering you both. You slid your phone in your pocket and sighed heavily, patiently waiting outside the presidents door, ready to see Hawks and talk to him about what had happened.

You attempted to talk to Mirko but... You couldn’t really understand what she was talking about, especially through all the panting. ‘Oh baby please, come to my place, I promise we’ll have fun okay? Forget about that birdbrain! Come to me. We can eat! Have dessert first and then a full course meal! And another, and another, a-and another~! Until I’m full and satisfied! Please!’ You sadly had to decline. Being treated to multiple full course meals and desserts was nice and all, but you really needed to talk to Hawks. A click of the door was heard, and you brought yourself off the hard painted walls to see Hawks walking out with a pout and a frown. He hated being scolded, he was a grown ass man with hormones. Of course he was going to lose it eventually.

“H-Hawks...!”

He immediately jerked his head up hearing his name, plastering on a cheeky smile before coming up to you. “What’s up chicken wing, you came to check on me huh?” Sometimes you wanted to slap the smugness out of him, but sadly, it would probably grow knowing him. You honestly nodded and rose your hand to tell him to follow you. He did as you told quietly, his hands in his pockets, unsure of what you were even going to say. His feathers could faintly sense your thundering heart, how it hammered against your rib cage every step you took towards the door. “It’s... about what happened this morning.”

“...I see.” It was unusual for him to be so speechless in a conversation. He loved to talk. You rubbed your arm sheepishly and made your way out the doors with him. You walked for a bit, until you reached the agency you worked at. Well, this was it. “Hawks I...” you began, but couldn’t bring yourself to confess to him. You’d denied your feelings for years, pushing them aside to hold onto your friendship. You didn’t think you were good enough for him. He needed someone stronger, someone better. “Ah... never mind, I forgot what I was going to say. See you to-“ You were silenced once his gloved hands found your arms softly, and his lips met yours once again to share in a passionate kiss. You couldn’t help but melt into his touch, his warm comforting touch, never wanting to leave.

“Im... sorry for the way I acted today.” He spoke slowly, expression the sincerity behind his apology. Your eyes widened watching Hawks get down on one knee and begin to kiss your knuckles one by one. “I couldn’t help myself... seein’ you... with other guys, just thinkin’ about it makes my blood boil...” He stands back up again, spreading his large wings, their vibrant color remained, accompanied by soft whistling and cooing from your winged friend. His hand grabbed your chin, running his thumb gently over your bottom lip. “I’ve been tryin’ to impress you for weeks... drove out all my competition, so in the end you’d only pick me.”

It was all starting to make sense now.

“Spring is mating season for birds like me... so everything I’ve been doin’ is to get you to choose me to be your mate. I want you to be my dove. I want you to be mine.” Everything finally connected now. Even why Mirko sounded so weird on the phone earlier when you called to ask about what was happening. Your face flushed in embarrassment at this newfound revelation. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner... I... feel horrible for what I said earlier! Your jealous behavior... your weird noise making meant to impress me but I insulted it!” Hawks covered his mouth and started to laugh. You glared at him, trying to be serious and apologize the right way. And he was just sitting there laughing at you! “Oh man, sorry chicken wing, but I insult you, all the fuckin’ time, and its fun. Watchin’ you get all flustered and angry, I live for it. You shouldn’ feel bad at all to get a couple jabs at me.”

“Shut up you dumbass. Let me speak...” A pout spread across his face and he stared intensely at you, his beautiful golden eyes shaking you up to your core. You rubbed your arm a bit embarrassed, and averted your gaze to the ground. “Considering... everything you’ve just told me. I need to clarify and face my feelings.” His eyes widened and his mouth hung slightly agape, his wings flapping gently in anxiousness. You smiled and pulled him close by the collar of his jacket, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, before pulling away quickly not get him riled up again. “It’s safe to say I only see you, Hawks. And you don’t have to worry about me picking anyone else. You’re my pretty bird. You always have been.”

He sighed in relief and smirked smugly. “I knew you were in love with me, dove. I’m just too irresistible, even for you~”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”