#shocking: dog food company makes more than one line of dog food

[is-the-owl-video-cute]

you really admitted to feeding your pet Rachel Ray brand while discouraging people from using vet approved brands huh

Yes, anon. Because that is the food my veterinarian recommended for my dogs, you ninny.

this is what I feed my dogs, again, something discussed with my vet, who I would imagine knows more about pet nutrition than you do.

[doe-writes-stuff]

The Center for Disease Control offered more than just hope: food, running water, electricity...and all the whiskey one needed to forget about the hell outside for awhile. Daryl makes for unexpected company to your night of reckless indulgence, but you don't even think to refuse when he's looking at you like...that.

Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: 18+ explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, drunk sex (consentual), mentions of canon-typical violence, one-night-stand vibes.

The first shot burned on its way down, angry and lukewarm. That instinctive reflex to choke it up and spit it out was smothered by other wants, other needs, and you manage the harsh drink down your throat with a swallow. Only a small, half-hearted cough comes out, but for the most part it wasn't terrible.

The shock of alcohol after so long without was dizzying. Water kept you alive, but it was bland and more often then not tasted like the canteen it was carried in. But whiskey...oh, the pleasant aroma had called your name, the amber liquid glistening like gold in its glass bottle. And you'd claimed it before anyone else thought to.

"What, not gonna share?" Shane had joked in mock outrage, seeing you snatch a shot glass from the counter and start to turn away. You send him a raised brow.

"Absolutely the hell not. Have all the rest if you want," you gesture to the other untouched bottles of liquor lined up on the counter, cheeky smile and all, "but this baby's mine, officer."

"Alright, fair enough." He waves you away with a quiet laugh, a wink thrown in for good measure.. "Just keep me in mind if, you know...you don't feel like finishin' it by yourself after all."

You hum, as if considering it, but only give him a incredulous smile.

It's easy enough to brush off Shane's flirty tone, the guy thought himself quite the Casanova, but there was always a feeling of desperation behind his charm and suave.

Plus, you were pretty sure he'd been fucking Lori until Rick's miraculous appearance. So...yeah, definitely not a drama you wanted to step foot in. Best to leave the cop alone, even if he was a decent looker.

Too bad he wasn't the one you had the occasional dirty thoughts about. Those starred...someone else.

Prize in hand, you retreated back to your quarters. On your way, you passed by an exceptionally pleased T-Dog, fresh out of the shower and beaming a smile like the sun. You hold up your bottle of whiskey in solidarity. He makes a noise of approval, bumping the top of the bottle with the bottom of his clenched fist.

Now back in your room for the night, as you let the notes of almond and caramel-esque settle on the back of your throat, you sink into the plush armchair of your room and close your eyes. A simple, satin cami had been scavenged from the closet--whichever scientist had lived here before, she had excellent taste in nightwear--and offered a rare moment of...normal.

As if this was your right of self-care after a long day of work. God, how long had it been since you'd had one of those? Too long...

The sense of comfort the CDC and Dr. Jenner provided was second to none. Never again would you think to be able to relax without keeping one eye open for walkers around the corner. In hindsight, the camp in Atlanta had been dangerously exposed to any walker that happened to stroll up close. Out in the open, only a makeshift tin can alarm system tied up by a string...It was a miracle it had lasted as long as it did. The attack, the deaths, had all been inevitable. Unavoidable.

You shake your head, forbidding the darker thoughts to come forward. That wasn't what tonight was about. This place was an oasis, a chance to start fresh and right. No more thinking about what was lost.

Better yet, no more thinking at all tonight.

Stretching out on the couch, you carefully pour a second shot, eyeing the amount to make sure it doesn't spill over. You bring the shot to your lips and knock it back, this one much easier than the first. It was just as sweet, and just as potent. Another one of those and you'd be feeling a lot better.

Your eyes open, taking in your room in more detail. Each new thing you discover--a small collection of books, a record player set up on a table in the corner, and a guitar leaning in one corner. The stray idea to pick it up and play surfaced, but then you laughed at yourself. You were a terrible player.

The quiet was pressing in again, threatening to drag you back into another sad wallowing. You hop up off the couch towards the record player, thumbing through the neatly-organized records with curiosity. The available songs were a mix of genres and names you did and didn't recognize. Some new, some old. Some you couldn't even tell. And while you liked the idea of listening to a brand new sound, it felt more appropriate to play a song or two that was familiar and comfortable. Something to listen to without really listening.

You slide one of the records out of its paper cover and lift it to the player, turning on the right knob and lowering the needle onto it when it began to spin. It crackles for a second, and then the first notes of the song begin to play softly into your space, filling the silence with blessed music.

Back to the couch you return, eyes closed, content to just lay there and listen for awhile. And you do, the two shots you'd had thus far finally beginning to present in a warm and pleasant buzz, letting your mind wander wherever the music chose to take you.

You mostly thought of life before, when the most you had to worry about was paying rent, or beating the traffic to get to work on time, or shitty ex-boyfriends not getting the hint, or any number of things you'd happily take back now that you could very well die if you stepped foot outside. A parking ticket once felt like the end of the world. You knew now exactly how wrong that impression was.

Hindsight was a sweet and cruel mistress.

You should have called your mother more. You should have thanked your neighbor for the chicken recipe he'd taped to your door after a brief conversation one day. Hell, you even should have told your boss right where he could stick his coniving nose at least once. But now you never would. All of them were probably--almost definitely--dead by now.

When things started descending in a downward spiral towards sad thoughts again, you lift yourself up from the couch, unsure of how long you'd actually been there listening, and reach for the whiskey bottle and shot glass.

A rough knock on the door stills your hands, and you stare at it in puzzlement. For a brief moment, you wonder if it had been a figment of your imagination. Maybe just a scratch on the record, tricking your mind, but a second set of knocks follows the first when you make no move to answer.

Quietly, your feet carry you to the door stumbling a little when you don't quite catch your balance, and stare at the doorknob. You blink. It's probably Shane, wondering if you had considered his offer of company with your whiskey. He was persistent, to an annoying degree. Probably used to having things go his way, before all this. With a sigh, you pull open the door, preparing a rejection speech to the lovelorn cop.

The words die on your tongue before you even speak one of them, blinking back surprise when Daryl is the one standing there in the hallway. He's leaning against the doorframe on his forearm but you suspect it's less a product of attempting to seduce you and more that he was already an inch away from being outright drunk. The way his eyes shift and can't seem to focus is testament to that.

"Heard you took the whiskey." He stated through a thick slur of words, his southern drawl more pronounced in such a state. Despite having showered, freshened up from all the sweat, dirt, and grime, he still somehow looked rugged and roughed up. He looked dangerously good...

You manage a reply after a moment. "I did."

"Still got any?"

All thought seems to derail when you notice the way his eyes drift down over your figure, then back up for good measure. You swear you can see stark interest in his gaze, but maybe that was just your own desires talking. The tip of his tongue pokes out to wet his lips, and the sight is hotter than you cared to admit. Suddenly reminded that you were only wearing a cami slip, you shift on your feet. Oh, dear...

"Yeah, there's more." You say, throat suddenly feeling very dry.

Despite your better judgement telling you it would probably be a better decision to turn him away, you find yourself opening the door wider to give him space to enter. A silent invitation, since you doubted the words would have come out properly. He steps past with the barest stumble, arm brushing across your side in a way that gave you an anticipatory shiver.

Something propels you to look into the hall both ways, just to see if anyone had noticed Daryl suddenly coming to your room. But it was empty.

Heart beating a frantic, shaky rhythm in your chest, you shut the door and lock it, taking a second or two in an attempt to compose yourself before daring to turn around to see Daryl of all people in your room. You had half a mind to believe this was just another of your lewd dreams...

Turning, you notice he's forgone using the shot glass and lifts the bottle up to his lips instead. His Adam's apple bobs with a swallow, your eyes following it down his throat before shaking out of this daze.

You return to your spot on the couch, shoring up whatever composure you had left remaining to try settling down, all while hyperaware of precisely where in the room he stood. The buzz you'd so far been drinking towards was starting to show itself. After a few good swigs, he lowers the bottle and hands it back to you. Your fingers brush

"That's expensive shit." He mutters in appreciation. "Better than whatever was in that damn flask I found in one of them docs' rooms."

"Should've stuck around the group a little longer, then. You could've pre-gamed with something other than rubbing alcohol." You mention with a shrug, deciding to follow his lead and abandon the need for a shot glass. Gripping the neck of the bottle, you upturn it and feel the liquid burn down your throat.

"Finally get some space all myself, ain't spendin' more time with y'all than I have to." He grumbles, idly walking around the room to see what was there. He briefly picked up the guitar and inspected it, but set it back down without attempting to play. Guess he was a shitty player too, if he played at all.

"Tell me how you really feel, why don't you." Is your sarcastic reply. "Look, this is the first time in weeks we've been able to just...kick up our feet and relax. Would it kill you to be nice for one night?"

He scoffs, circling around to the record player still providing your music for the night. His head shakes. "Why? Not looking to make friends."

Your brow raises a fraction of an inch. "Better friends than enemies, right?"

"What do you care?"

You hand comes up defensively. "Ease up there, Dixon. My room, my rules. So put the teeth away or the rest of this whiskey is mine."

He looks at you but says nothing, perhaps caught off guard by your stark honesty. There weren't many in the group--let alone women--who'd talk to him like that. Old impressions of the country folk, you assumed. Sure, the younger Dixon brother had often caused you a headache with the way he griped and got all temperamental but he'd never given you reason to be afraid of him.

...but erotically attracted to? More than you would ever willingly admit. And the worst part was he didn't even realize how incredibly hot you thought the mundane little things he did were. Hell, just watching him string up that crossbow was a sight to see.

You smile a little, showing him you didn't mean offense. "Come on. Sit down, have a drink, and pretend you aren't an asshole for a couple hours, alright?"

He doesn't say anything for a second, but your heart beats a bit harder in your chest when his eyes once again drift down your figure. But you wave the thought away. Definitely your own fantasies seeing what they wanted to...

"Fine. Maybe y'ain't so bad." He admits with a mutter, turning his attention back to the records behind the record player. "Don't talk to me like I'm gonna snap any second, at least...

"Ain't a cop or one of them women naggin' everyone all day, got damn good taste in whiskey..." He admits with a shrug that's supposed to be uncaring. Then his head shakes and he lifts the needle from the record, cutting off the music with a scratch. "Can't say the same about your taste in tunes, though."

You set the bottle back down on the side table with a glass thud, the sound much louder in the silence. "Hey, I was enjoying that!"

"Pfff, how?" He asks, setting the vinyl aside and pulling one from the shelf that caught his eye. "Just a bunch'a mindless noise. Gonna make my ears bleed."

You can't help the laugh that bursts out of your mouth. "It's music, you ass. I happen to like it."

"It's a headache is what it is." There's amusement in his voice, even though you can't see his face. From your seat on the couch, you can't see which record he chooses. But he's quick to place it onto the machine and sets the needle in place.

Your room fills with the sound of some kind of metal or rock hybrid, you can't be sure. It's loud, it's heavy, and it's...not at all the sort of music you were used to listening to. Daryl turns towards you with a cocky little smirk, as if to tell you that he had just solved the problem. You can only return the gesture with an incredulous smile of your own, one brow raised.

"Really?"

"Better than whatever shit you were playin.'" He said with confidence, sauntering over with a swagger only a drunk could possess. He gestures to you with his hand. "Come on, make room."

Scooting over on the couch, you watch as he sinks down into the cushions, arms stretched to either side of the back of the couch and legs spread comfortably outwards. His eyes are closed, relaxed even with the outrageous music currently filling the space.

It's surprisingly easy to sit next to him. Even wearing so little, you were getting comfortable yourself. Perhaps your bluntness earlier broke the ice a bit. Somehow. And for once, you felt that ever-present distance Daryl seemed to keep between him and everyone else was fading, or at least being put aside in the wake of his drunken state.

He didn't ever show it, but maybe this escape from reality was exactly what he needed. Daryl never let anything get to him or slow him down, but after the loss of Merle, you figured a night of setting aside his troubles was exactly what he needed.

It was the only explanation for why he was in your fucking room. Why else would he be here? Maybe you were just looking too much into it...

You barely speak for the next little while, passing the whiskey bottle back and forth, until nearly half of it is already gone. Each new sip lightened your soul and made you just a little bit more dizzy. Each motion of your head felt more pronounced, the room swaying just a little even while sitting still. You companion was three sheets to the wind by this point, at least you figured after so much whiskey, though you weren't far behind.

Eventually, you make mindless conversation. Mostly on your part. Daryl wasn't much for small talk, and even less enthusiastic about offering up personal information. But you're content to just be able to drone on about your life before, about the person you used to be and the one you seemed to be turning into now. He hummed where appropriate to make it obvious he was still listening, but didn't offer up much feedback other than that.

A man of so few words...but a great listener. It was appreciated, even if you did wish to know more about him. Maybe another time.

When you finally ran out of words, silence settled between you once again. Your head was heavy with whiskey, body sensitive and buzzing. And with each passing minute, Daryl was taking up more and more of your attention. The warmth in your chest, the alcohol filtering into your veins, and hell, even the 'music' Daryl had put on was lulling you into a trap. You could feel it, the lustful thoughts that normally were reserved to your dreams or carefully hidden fantasies emerging.

They pushed and shoved their way to the forefront, where you were unprepared and sadly unable to stop them. Rather than fight, you let them flood in, the alcohol telling you 'what did it matter?' They played every little scenario you'd imagined the two of you doing together in full detail through your head, the sensation and sounds making you shift in place on the couch.

Him and his strong arms, lifting and pushing you wherever he damn well felt like it...

You don't realize you're lost in thought until Daryl breaks the silence.

"If there's somethin' you want, speak up." He slurs out of the blue, eyes pinning you with a sidelong look.

Your head lifts up. Blearily, you blink at him in confusion.

"Starin' at me like that." He's still outwardly relaxed, but you can see the way his fingers are digging into the couch cushion. His eyes can't seem to focus on one part of you, rather flicking all over where you sit. "Givin' me ideas...So if it's just the whiskey, then say it."

"Oh." Is all you think to say at first. It takes several seconds for your drunk brain to comprehend what it is he was implying, but once it does, you flush heatedly. Oh.

Being called out on your display of perversion was surprisingly less mortifying than you'd expected it to be. That...was probably thanks to the whiskey dulling your inhibitions and delaying your train of thought quite a bit. Definitely. Yes.

Daryl isn't making things any easier when he gives your body a very obvious once-over with a heavy gaze, hips adjusting on his own cushion. Suddenly it felt imperative that you find out what ideas he was getting thanks to all this. You shift in your own seat, a knot of curiosity eating away at your insides.

Your eyes search his face, but you don't see any sign of anger or outrage over his observation. Just inebriated curiosity, and a bit of heat. A lot of heat. You weren't wearing much, so really, there wasn't much of you to undress with his eyes...

...and that line of thinking has you glance down at his pants...which look particularly tight around his-

Oh shit. He was being serious. You dry swallow hard.

"You don't even like me." You blurt out, immediately feeling stupid after the words leave your mouth. Covering your embarrassment, you take another swig of whiskey as Daryl looks at you with a strange expression.

"Never said that." He grumbled, turning to lean in closer. "Just ain't lookin' to make friends. Don't mean we can't fuck around if you wanna. It don't have to mean nothin.'"

"I can't say I haven't thought about it..." You admit, unable to stop from eyeing his arms and the small amount of his collarbone visible from underneath his shirt. "...More than once."

The answer is vague, skirting around the response you know he's looking for. But you want time to wade through the fog of your drunkenness to think about what the both of you were saying. You absolutely wanted to, but...in the morning you'd have to deal with the consequences. Were you prepared for that?

He leans in further, drawing all of your attention. Daryl grabs the bottle from your hands, taking one more large swig before setting it down on the side table, inadvertently forcing him to lean over you. The momentary position sets a pounding heartbeat in your chest. Excitement. Anticipation.

He pins you with as steady a look he can at the moment, propping himself over you with his hands on the couch. Your faces are less than 6 inches apart.

"Watch'u want?" He whispers in a husk. It takes you several moments to muster up a reply, one mental foot already stepping down the rabbit hole of lust. Perhaps you take too long, because he shakes his head slowly. "Won't ask again."

"You." Is your choice, eyes meeting his before drifting even lower to his lips. Still, you figured asking beforehand to clarify would be a good start. "But what does that mean for us?"

"Don't mean nothin.'" He breathes, not giving you a chance to finish your sentence when he leans in to cut you off with a kiss. Demanding and overwhelming all at once.

It's an asshole move. But you already knew he was a bit of an asshole the moment you met him. Lucky him he was so damn good-looking. So with a subtle roll of your eyes, you reciprocate the quite uncoordinated kiss with an equally drunk one of your own. All teeth and messy, open-mouthed and pressing insistently.

Daryl crowds you against the cushion of the couch, hands latching on to any part of you he can reach. Now given permission to touch, he's handsy and curious in all the right places. Your hips and waist a particularly favorite spot if the way he was pulling you closer by them was anything to go by.

His words bounce around your brain, but you don't really get the time to contemplate what they mean. For now, you're fine focusing on the promise of a good fuck.

Realizing the position he's got you both in is awkward, you shove him backwards to the other side of the couch. The sudden movement has him looking dazed for a second, but you only send him a coy smile. Grabbing the whiskey from the side table, you take a visible swig and crawl forward on your knees to straddle his waist.

He's quick to pull your core onto the straining length beneath his pants. He grunts at the friction, but you swallow it with a sloppy, drunken kiss. With only your underwear between you and his pants, you can't help but clench at the sensation.

You gasp against his mouth when his hands snake up under your cami to squeeze at the mounds of your breasts, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips. While rough hands paw at your skin with reckless desire, you're haphazardly grinding down onto his lap and drawing out strained grunts from his throat.

One hand still holding the whiskey, your fingers fumble at the edge of his shirt, pulling upwards in a clear sign for him to take it off. Daryl is forced to pull away as you drag the garment over his head, tossing it somewhere on the floor. You can't be bothered to care where. When you lean over to put the whiskey bottle down on the table behind his side of the couch, he suddenly tugs off your cami and his mouth latches onto your left breast and sucks hard.

A surprised moan escapes you, hopefully covered by the noise of the record player, and your fingers card themselves through his hair. When his teeth scrape harshly against your nipple, hands grabbing at your waist with strength, you give the strands a rough tug. Left in nothing but your underwear, you press down further onto his straining, covered cock.

His name leaves your lips like a prayer, slurred and gravelly. One more downward grind of your core onto him and he's snatching at your underwear with a muttered curse against your breast, yanking them down and to the side just enough to press his fingers against your clit. There's no slow build-up of pleasure. No slow start. And while he's clumsy and uncoordinated, the enthusiasm makes up for it. You're both much too drunk for anything other than a fast fuck now, and once he finds that sweet spot he rubs circles over and over right where you need him.

The sparking nerves have you shuddering and convulsing on his lap, at the mercy of his unrelenting touch. Your orgasm is fast approaching, whether you like it or not. The sounds you make are keening, desperate. So anxious to cum. His mouth hasn't let up against your breast, licking and sucking a wet, red mark upon your flesh.

You can't seem to say anything other than his name laced between a string of incoherent curses. You want to punch him for dragging you to this point so quickly, but you're thankful he's not wasting time and giving you what you've fantasized about all this time.

And then he's pulling away and you get the sensation of moving. Your back hits the couch cushion, Daryl having pushed you backwards and switched up the position. You whimper at the loss of his touch, but the sound of his shallow, ragged breaths and the button of his pants only makes your core throb with desire.

He fumbles at his zipper, clearly in a hurry but the whiskey hadn't helped his coordination any. Just as you're about to lean over and help him, he's shoving them down his legs enough to free his erect cock.

You bite your lip, wiggling in place with your legs on either side of his as he leans down to press his tip to your entrance. Another time, you'd be concerned about protection but everything is clouded with alcohol. You doubt you'd have the self-restraint necessary to pull away even if coherent, anyway. You wanted this man far too much to care now.

He pushes in, watching your expression as it morphs through the emotions of being penetrated, and there's only a moment of discomfort before he bottoms out entirely inside. He groans, breath fanning along your collarbone hotly.

It's only natural that your arms wrap around to his back, but you're taken aback as he suddenly yanks them away and forces your wrists above your head against the couch's armrest.

"Don't." He growls out, keeping you from touching him again. Your mouth opens to say...something. You hadn't thought what to say exactly, but Daryl's already pulling out to push back in with a harsh thrust, snatching any words you might have wanted to say. All that comes out is a pleasured moan.

He fucks you senseless. You were already so close to orgasm with his fingers, but he's got you on a fast-track to it once more. And he manages to brush his cock against your clit with each and every piston of his hips against you. The sound of your moans sound foreign, as if they weren't originating from your own mouth at all. As if they were just another part of his god-awful music spouting from the record player.

You cum from the shock of his intensity and the sight of his abdominal muscles at work, orgasm shaking you to your core. Your eyes ring, your vision swims. And yet even as you clench your muscles to ride the waves and push against the hands holding you down, he still continues to fuck into you mercilessly. It's overwhelming in the best way possible. None of your fantasies could have lived up to the reality.

You were most certainly fucked.

Overstimulation is swift in following your first orgasm, your body twitching and spasming with the aftershocks, but Daryl doesn't seem to notice. Simply shifting positions and further pressing you down into the cushion, your moans take on more of a whimpering tone.

He watches every part of you, flicking between the way your breasts jostle and bounce time with every thrust of his hips and at the point where his cock enters into you over and over. He's mesmerized, caught in this moment, the drunken haze heightening some senses and dulling others.

You hoped to God he was trying to commit this to memory. You wanted to be remembered by him come morning.

His own end comes abruptly, Daryl tensing and holding himself inside of you as he groans out his release. You're practically limp, laying there and taking the last of him before he slumps against you on the couch. You're sweaty and his weight is a bit oppressive, making it difficult to breathe, but you can't muster the strength or mental clarity to say anything about it.

Minutes pass, the air conditioning doing wonders to cool the both of your off. Another song or two plays before it falls silent, the vinyl reaching its last track. The sudden silence is eerie, and you almost miss whatever music he'd put on.

You struggle against the fatigue that's settling in place, now that you were well and truly fucked and the alcohol was working through your system. Daryl hadn't moved an inch, still sprawled on top of you, and after so long you suspected he'd passed out entirely.

In the morning, you'd have to think of something to say. You'd have to look him in the eyes and pretend you hadn't cherished it. Pretend it meant nothing to you as it so clearly meant nothing to him. He'd said as much.

You're following after him into sleep not long after, wondering if this would be a night to look back fondly on, or the first of many mistakes to come.

[deutoplasmic]

LMAOOOO they really are just a bunch of silly yokai vying for your attention,,, like “your laundromat is neutral ground BUT YOU LIKE US BETTER THAN THEM RIGHT. RIGHT”

UHH it depends on if you consider mandarin and hokkien separate languages bc if you then that makes 4 languages yea DJDNDJ i wanna learn more languages in the future too but i wanna fix up my mandarin first lmao

REAL THOUGH LIKE theres 3 japanese people in into1 AND THATS NOT COUNTING THE OTHER 2 THAT GOT RIGGED OUT,,, cfans dont seem to hold the ww2 atrocities against individual japanese people, more of the government and certain places (ie that shrine in japan that commemorates their ww2 soldiers. a chinese actor took a selfie there once and instantly got blacklisted)

I MEAN 😭 everything is cheap here because our economy is in shambles so 😭😭 but i do agree that our food cant be beat just *chefs kiss*

LMAOKDJDKD groveling rihi is just so entertaining to me like yea big tough guy!! but also absolutely folds if you dont give him attention every 5 minutes

but yea xikers is fun!! theyre all younger than me so i baby them a lot. and they recently released this absolutely TERRIFYING horror content and i felt terrible bc one of them got so scared he started CRYING i must protect

plsss companies suck ;; trcng is already kinda free from TS but ghost9 is still in maroo’s basement,, ALSO YES HES IN MONOTREE

AND YOURE SO RIGHT y/n CAN DO THAT SO TRUE,,, princess peach yudai,,, now thats an art prompt

LMAODKDJDKDJDN OMG OK SO LOWKEY,,, A PROFESSOR OF MINE HAS RAGGED ON DJS TOO MUCH LMAO,,, im from an art school and so we tend to have very. unique people. and my professor was like “i can excuse furries but i draw the line at djs” AND NOW EVERY TIME I SEE NISHI DJ I REMEMBER THAT LINEJDNDJD but im sure y/n is very happy LMAOKDJD

YES you keep giving them cop out answers like "yeah idk" or even worse the "you guys both suck" but they're going to get an answer out of you some day!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and also i just realised what this au entails when you put 97-99s as kitsunes bc kitsune ren is so right in my head it's just so. it makes so much sense. it's so real. oh my god. it's so factual. every time he walks in he deviously pilfers something from under your nose and when he leaves he WILL put it in the tip jar size be damned

if you try telling me anything in hokkien i won't understand anything so i'll quantify it as a separate language :rofl: languages are so cool though!!!!!!!!!! my friend's viet and she keeps teaching me random phrases like "hey girl", "i love you", and "oh my god" LOL. you can do it!!!!!!! mandarin i think is the easiest to learn from the chinese branches like. for what reason does cantonese have like 6 tones my days

you know what fair. my japanese teacher once said that the history books in japan, fully regulated by the government, are pretty heavily tilted on a bias towards themselves so kids don't get taught things like the nanjing massacre or unit 731. also THERE WAS RIGGING ofc there was rigging act shocked! and yeah my dad was telling me about the shrine when the actor got banned lmfao.... he was not impressed

SACRIFICES MUST BE MADE i'm pretty sure all of the currencies are weaker than the main western powers like the british pound and american dollar so sea keeps getting a bunch of weird tourists who think they can exploit the people there. but i think theyre fighting back by putting a tourist tax of double price LOL. kind of unrelated but i keep getting malay singapore beef on my insta fyp. it's so funny and i'm not even a citizen of either country. sometimes you just need to bring up the ringgit to inflict ultimate damage

damn it you have to feed your big clingy cat guy!!!!!!!!!!! he desires attention!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also i think you get unintentional scary dog (cat) privilege like no way am i going to do smth devious with him hanging off your shoulder

WHAT he started crying............. was he ok................... free my bro.................... also i swear having idols debut younger than you is such a reality check to how old you're getting LMAO there was this 14 (!!!!) year old aussie olympian who won gold in skateboarding........ like i was NOT winning the olympics at 14.

ts ent was so horrendous i can't believe they did all of their groups that badly.... bap copped it so bad. thank god theyre a thing of the past...... hopefully ghost9 can escape the dungeon omfg. AND AHHHH MONOTREE hwang hyun is doing so much justice for onf its crazy!!!!!! and it's always a bit of a relief when you see them on the track list of some mini album lmao

love yn theyre so cool to me. and also IT IS. hes so pretty he would pull it off so well. truly smth to consider

YOURE FROM AN ART SCHOOL damn ok i see who im talking to. dont mind me and my piddly attempts at drawing please /j but FR thats HILARIOUS literally just people who dress up as anthropomorphic animals are ok i GUESS but god i cant STAND the bluster and swagger of those noisy musical "artists"

[mkfluffluv]

That's Aces!!

STEVEN GRANT X GN ASEXUAL READER

i said i was going to write my own asexual reader fic if no one did so i did just that.

feel free to request more fics, but just know that i won't write any smut

also english is not my first language, and i write my fics all in lower case and then try to add proper capitalization after but usually fail so. um. look out for those

likes and reblogs appreciated!!!

prompt : steven asks you out on a date. you blurt out that you're asexual. he's totally chill with it. plus a fluffy ending bc im a sucker for cheesy romance.

word count : 1,241

warnings : slight ooc maybe? this is literally just self indulgent fluff

masterlist

You and Steven were coworkers, both working together in the little gift shop in the British Museum.

You and him bonded over complaining about Donna's behavior and the giftshop's inaccuracies in merch, always laughing and snickering behind Donna's back whenever she was out of hearing range.

You grew to enjoy his company and also started to develop an embarrassing crush on him. and unbeknownst to you, Steven had felt the same.

After around 2 months of longing looks and heartfelt smiles, Steven had gathered enough courage to ask you out on a date to which of course, how could you not say yes?

So, now, here you are, on the date, enjoying yourself till you realized you'd forgotten an important detail about yourself that you're always sure to tell the people you date.

"I'm asexual." You randomly blurt out in the middle of Steven's rant about an Egyptian god.

Then, silence.

For a moment, you thought you had completely fucked everything up. Like, who comes out so suddenly like that in the middle of a seemingly normal conversation?! No one!

Well, no one but you that is.

'Ugh, gods, help your poor soul, and please have mercy. Let steven reject you gently.' You thought.

But of course, Steven is always full of surprises.

"That's aces!"

He stops and laughs nervously at his accidental pun.

Huh.

Well, that's certainly a first. You stare at Steven with what you could assume is a very flabbergasted expression on your face, fork still in hand and stopping mid-chew.

Steven misunderstands this expression and starts feeling around his face for any leftover crumbs of his vegan sandwich. "Do I have something on my face?" He asks.

This snaps you out of your thoughts and you slowly shake your head, still processing the situation before you. You continue to eat your food as an awkward and uncomfortable silence fills your and Steven's space.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." You look up at Steven's sweet puppy dog eyes and you feel your heart clenching in your chest at how absolutely adorable his guilty face looked. It wasn't even that he offended you, of course not, if you weren't in so much shock right now by the way Steven reacted, you would've laughed at his silly accidental joke.

"No, Steven, it's okay. I'm not uncomfortable, I'm just," you trail off, trying to find the right words to explain how you were feeling at the moment. "Surprised is all. not many of my dates react this well after hearing I won't shag them." You silently cringe at your choice of wording but Steven only smiles and nods. He opens his mouth to say something but closes it once more and shaking his head, he mutters a quiet "I'm not gonna say that," to whoever it is he talks to. You're not one to judge.

"That's alright. I have more things to worry about than um," Steven pauses then, and you notice a faint pink starting to surface on his pretty cheeks. It's the most adorable thing you've ever seen.

"You can say 'sex' around me Steven, I won't be offended." You let out an amused chuckle at the wide-eyed look that he gives you for your directness.

And then he smiles and goodness his smile could probably light up an infinite dark hole. You can't help but smile back and it seems Steven thinks the same of your smile.

The conversation flows smoothly after that, with Steven asking questions like where the line starts and ends when it comes to physical contact, and asking where you lie in the asexual spectrum. He genuinely just wants to know more about you and your sexuality and you answer his questions with a bright smile on your face. No one has ever bothered to ask you anything and this experience and Steven himself, you will promise to treasure for the rest of your life. His boyish charm reminds you of that of a golden retriever and the thought makes you smile wider if that was even possible.

After dinner, he offers to walk you home like the gentleman that he is and you refuse at first not wanting to be a bother just in case he was busy with anything and after a short pause in his step, he shakes his head and says that he doesn’t have much to do that night. So you accept his offer and start walking beside him, the back of your hands brushing against each other now and then. After a while, he offers his arm to you and you laugh at his formal gesture. You held out your hand for him to take and his brain short circuits for only a second before he takes your hand in his, his wide grin never leaving his face the whole way back to your apartment.

-

"Thank you for walking me home, Steven. You really didn't have to."

"Please, I offered. I wanted to spend at least a bit more time with you."

You feel a blush creeping up your face at his sweet words and let out a shy huff of amusement. This man is making it real hard to not fall for him. Though, you didn't seem to mind of course.

As you look into his eyes, you can't help but stare at the way he looks at you. The love and adoration contained in that gaze of his is making your heart feel so warm. It's so different than the looks that your other dates had given you. So, so very different and so, so accepting of who you are.

"I had fun," you say, not breaking eye contact. You would stare at those dark browns forever if you could.

Steven nods. "Me too."

You stop looking into his eyes and grab his hand. You then place a soft kiss to the back of it and grin triumphantly at the way Steven's face seems to turn slightly red at the gesture.

After a few more minutes of not really knowing how to say goodbye and even more eye contact, your neighbor's booming voice interrupts the wedding bells that were already ringing in your head.

"Get a room, you dorks." Janice from room 304 says, before slamming her front door closed. She had very loudly interrupted the comfortable silence that you and steven had surrounded yourselves in.

It starts with a huff of laughter from you, and one from him, and then continues to get more frantic and loud til you both were clutching at your stomach. You were laughing so noisily that you were sure Janice had come out to tell you both to shut up but you obviously wouldn't be able to hear her with how you were laughing so loud.

After maybe a few minutes, you both calmed down and what was left were only beaming smiles plastered on both your faces.

"I'll have to go back in now before Janice starts complaining again," you tell Steven, to which he reluctantly nods in understanding.

What you didn't expect him to do, however, was for him to take the palm of his hand from before and bring it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to it. An indirect kiss. This cheeky bastard.

He leaves then, leaving you standing there in front of your door with the tips of your ears red and a stupid grin on your face.

[sunmoonandeddie]

and he kissed me right here

pairing: modern!bucky barnes x reader

word count: 6,100

summary: I've always been sure that all I ever wanted was a glamorous life.

warnings: Cuss words, mentions of the Afghanistan war (Bucky is a veteran), angst, happy ending, cheesy romantic confessions, age gap

a/n:  This is based on the song 'Stars and the Moon' from Songs for a New World! It's the first one shot in my musical series! This is written in first perspective, but there is no physical description or use of a name in this!

Twenty-Two

I sighed as I tossed a few more dirty plates into the dish window, wiping my brow. After a shitty dinner rush and an even shittier rush around two in the morning consisting only of drunk ass college kids looking for some sort of carb to suck up all the alcohol in their systems, I was ready to go the fuck home.

“Sweetheart, you head on home now,” the head chef insisted as he watched my head nod slightly as I tried my best to fight off sleep. “Ain’t nobody comin’ in before Melissa gets here. No point in you staying on your feet any longer.”

Louis was a godsend. At sixty-seven years old, you’d think he would rather be anywhere but a diner at almost four in the morning.

“Nah,” he had said when I’d asked him a few months after I’d first started. “My Ginny died a few years back, and since she’s been gone, I don’t really have the stomach to sit around that house all alone.” He had laughed, but there’d been a deep sorrow that had come over his deep brown eyes. “Kids are worried, but… Sleeping the day away is better than laying up at night staring at her side of the bed…”

“You sure, Lou?” I asked even as I headed for the back room where all the employees clocked in and kept their possessions in their own little cubbies. I did my checkout in view of the security camera, just like always. I didn’t want anyone to be able to say I stole anything.

Everyone who knew me knew that I wouldn’t, but I’d worked at two many places where the girls tried backstabbing each other and sabotaging everyone else to get them fired.

Though people were a lot nicer in Louisiana than any of the other places I’d lived.

Louis chuckled as he set a to-go box in the window, nodding towards it. “Mmhm. Long as Buck is getting you home safe.”

I gave him a joking eye roll as I took the to-go box gratefully, grinning at my name written in all caps with green Sharpie on top. “You know you don’t have to make me dinner every night.”

“Yes, I do,” he said, shooting me a look. “How else do I know you’re getting enough food in you, huh?” He pointed his rag at me. “Now you go ask him to get you home. Tell him I said he can clock out, and that he’s supposed to text me when he sees you safe inside. You better not say you’re gonna ask him again just to walk yourself home.” The old man shook his head as I headed for the back door, muttering to himself, “Damn girl thinks I’m gonna believe she’s feeding herself good enough when she’s risking her damn ass walking home alone.”

Despite the fact that I’d put off asking for Bucky Barnes’s service, I really did appreciate how fiercely Louis cared about me.

It had been a real long time since anyone had cared so much.

I hesitated at the back door of the diner, my hand resting against the cool metal.

What if he said no?

Granted, he most likely wouldn’t. But what if he said yes, and he secretly thought me some dumb little girl that couldn’t take care of herself?

What did I care if he thought that?

“I don’t care what he thinks of me,” I huffed as I straightened my shoulders, holding my chin a little higher.

“Stop talking to yourself and get going!”

I jumped in surprise, before shooting a glare in the direction of the kitchen. “Stop listening in on my private conversations!” I demanded before storming outside with new found vigor.

Only to freeze when Bucky looked up from where he was sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette.

God, he was handsome.

“You okay, doll face?” He asked, his New York accent a sharp contrast to the southern drawls you were used to.

“Um… Y-Yeah,” I said faintly, glancing back at the door that I’d come in from. “Um… L-Louis wants me to ask you… Can you walk me home? Or give me a ride? I don’t… I don’t know if you drive…”

“I do drive.”

“O-Oh. Okay. Great.”

“But I don’t have my car on me.”

I peered at him curiously. “Oh. Um… I can just walk by myself. I don’t wanna… I don’t wanna be a nuisance…”

He stood up, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. “Don’t be ridiculous, darlin.’ Come on. I’ll walk you.” He shoved his hands in his pockets as he began to head for the street. “Besides… It’s a real nice night.”

“Oh…,” I said in surprise at how ready he was to be of service. “Okay. But only if you’re sure.”

A faint smile graced his lips as he glanced at the ground, letting out a faint chuckle that rumbled deep in his chest. “I’m sure, darlin.’ But you gotta lead the way.”

I was surprised by the rapid pitter patter of my heart beat as we walked side by side down the street, the chorus of ‘Yellow Brick Road’ getting stuck in my head on a loop.

Bucky was an enigma that I found myself wondering about more often than not, but I always ended up talking myself out of going there. After all, he was an older man. A much older man. At least fifteen years older than my own twenty-two years, or something along those lines, not that he looked it. The man looked like some kind of rugged Greek god. Like Hades if Hades was born in the eighties. His dog tags clinked together under his shirt as we walked, his metal prosthetic glinting in the moon.

“So how did you end up in NOLA?”

It took me a moment to even realize that he was talking to me, my heart skipping a beat and my face going hot in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” I asked.

His bright blue eyes flickered over to look me over. “How’d you end up in New Orleans?”

“I actually don’t know,” I snorted, avoiding his eyes as I kicked at a few broken up pieces of asphalt. “I just… Picked a bus ticket and ended up in one of the Carolinas. Then I picked another bus ticket and ended up in Minnesota. And then I picked another, and another, and another, and then I actually just… ended up here.” The months I’d spent alone on those Greyhounds felt both so long ago and also like it was just yesterday. “The diner was the first place someone recommended for food that’s good but cheap, and as I was eating my mountain of cheese fries, I saw the flyer that said they were hiring. So here I am now…”

“Huh,” he said, his brows furrowed. “I didn’t take you for the type of person to run off on your own… riding buses all over the country…”

Head tilting to the side, I gave him a long look. “You didn’t? What kind of type did you peg me for?”

Bucky gave me a long look, a single brow raised as though silently telling me that I jumped to conclusions. “Just that jumping from place to place can take a lot outta someone,” he said slowly, his voice low and soothing. “Hell, if you were my girl—” He broke off as his cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink, his long hair falling in his face.

I swore my heart had stopped inside of my chest, and I swallowed thickly around the lump in my throat. “Oh?”

He rushed to try to correct his wording. “I-I just mean, a lady should be comfortable. And if I had a g-girl like you, well… You’d never want for anything,” he stammered, stumbling over his words like a flustered school boy. “Hell, I… I’d give you the stars and the moon…”

I was shocked into silence, staring up at him like he was the sun itself. “Bucky…”

“No, no, don’t say anything. I… I know that was a lot,” he insisted quietly, unable to meet your eyes as he stared up at the shitty apartment building you called home. “Hell, you probably don’t want a gross old man hitting on you.” His metal hand, glinting in the low light of the street lamp, reached up to brush against my cheek for just a moment before it quickly dropped. “Just let me walk you home each night so I can make sure you’re safe, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I breathed out, unable to take my eyes off of him as he took a few steps back.

There’s a somewhat playful smirk on his lips as he watched me stumble up the steps, continuously glancing back at him. “Goodnight, baby doll.”

“Goodnight,” I said, barely audible before I finally headed inside.

Bucky kept his word. He walked me home every night, and honestly, there wasn’t a moment that I wasn’t thinking about what he had said, about if I was his girl.

What if I was his girl?

But… with that meant I’d have to give up the life I’d dreamed for myself. I wanted luxury, to never worry about bills or where I was gonna get my next meal or if I could afford to buy the nice work shoes or if I could only get the cheap ones that would fall apart in three months and then I’d just be right back where I started.

I wanted the life that celebrities lived. Hell, I wanted to go to parties on the same yachts the Kardashian-Jenners did, even if I couldn’t fucking stand them.

And with Bucky… I wouldn’t have that.

“So why’d you go on the run anyway?” Bucky asked one night as we sat on the curb, eating ice cream in the Louisiana heat. “I know you told me how you got here, but you’ve never told me why.”

“You’ve never told me how you ended up here or why either,” I shot back, nudging his shoulder with my own.

Somehow the age difference seemed non-existent as we sat there. Honestly, I felt like we were just a bunch of dumb teenagers, shooting the shit and enjoying each other’s company.

Bucky took in a deep breath, his shoulders sinking in a way that made it look like he had all the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I was over in Afghanistan for a long time,” he admitted quietly. “When the war first started, I was 19. I had no idea where my life was going and I had no options except my dad’s mechanic shop. So I enlisted with my best friend, Steve. The one I told you about.”

It’s completely silent except for the sound of an occasional car horn off in the distance.

“Neither one of us knew what we were doing. We realized very quickly that we had no reason being over there, but… but there was nothing else,” he said, swallowing around the lump in his throat. The ice cream he was holding was melting in his trembling hands. “I didn’t know how to do anything else, so I stayed. Steve moved up in the ranks, but I stayed pretty low… I didn’t mind. Kinda liked being the older guy all those young kids could talk to, could rely on… Because they were just like me, getting into a fight that wasn’t theirs because they had nothing else.”

My heart was shattering inside my chest as I scooted a little closer, my knee knocking against his as I tried to give him some sort of silent comfort. He’d been through Hell and made it through.

Bucky let his head rest against mine, his eyes closing as he breathed in the scent of my perfume. “They eventually moved me to some kind of specialized team… Called us the Howling Commandos. I found out that Steve was heading it and he picked me to be part of it. That’s how I met Sam, because he was on some sort of similar team with the Air Force, except it was just him and his friend, Riley,” he continued, taking a bite of his chocolate fudge brownie ice cream. “I am proud to say that I didn’t kill a single person while I was over there. I just couldn’t. Hell, they’re people just like me, terrified and unsure of what’s going to happen.” His lips pressed against my forehead, letting it linger. “But then about five years ago, I was on a mission with the Commandos, Sam, and Riley, and… this bomb went off while we were playing a game of soccer. I wasn’t even in a fight. That thing took my arm and it took Riley.”

Tentatively, I let my fingers find his, holding his hand and squeezing reassuringly.

“Sam decided to come home with me.” There was a forlorn look in his eyes, as though he was right back at that game of pick-up soccer. “After losing Riley… he couldn’t find a reason to be over there. And then Steve decided to stay, and hell, he’s still over there, leading that fucking team…” Glassy baby blue eyes finally found mine, the both of us doing our best to not cry. “I couldn’t face my family for a long time, so Sam asked me to come stay in Louisiana with him and his family, and I haven’t left since.”

“Have you gone to see your family?” I asked slowly, almost like I was scared I’d frighten him if I spoke too loudly, like a wild animal. “Let them know where you are? That you’re safe?”

He turned to look at me, his baby blues shining. “You worried about me, baby doll?”

“I can’t help it,” I said honestly, unable to tear my eyes away. I hadn’t opened up to someone like that in so damn long. “I can’t help but worry about you.”

The way that I felt about Bucky absolutely terrified me, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. It snuck up on me, like a train coming around a bend.

I hated it.

“What do you want out of this life?” Bucky asked on one walk home, his arm linked in mine. He’d become so much more… tactile. If anyone took a moment to look at us, they’d think we were a couple on a romantic stroll.

Perhaps we were.

But I couldn’t help but grin as I looked up at the sky, taking in the warm air. “I wanna live like how the movie stars do… I want a big house on the beach and twenty cars and a yacht and… and…”

He looked at me long and hard. “And you never wanna have to worry about where your next meal is coming from, if you’re gonna have a place to sleep at night…”

For some reason, I’d felt a bolt of panic over whether or not he’d understand. Whether or not he’d think differently of me, but I should’ve known that he wouldn’t. Hell, he knew me better than anyone else.

“You understand,” I said quietly, my hand squeezing his bicep gratefully. “I want to live how the other half lives for once. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

A small smile graced his features as we shuffled along. “There isn’t. But… What about love?” He asked.

“Love?”

“Love.”

Love.

Could I even have love? Did I want it?

“I don’t know if there’s a lot of room for love in my plans,” I admitted after a long moment. “In my experience, love has always just been a lie. A word used to manipulate and eventually abuse.”

Letting out a snort, he let his fingers tickle down my tricep until his fingers intertwined with mine. “I’d show you it’s not… I’d show you what real love is,” he said. “I’d give you every part of me, give you all my strength to help you grow into who you wanna be, even if I don’t particularly care about being famous or rich…” He brought my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “I’ll give you a love story, a life, that’s a million times better than any recycled Hollywood plot… I’ll give you the stars and the moon, if you would just let me.”

I hated the way that he made my heart beat faster, the way my breath hitched. “Jamie,” I breathed out quietly, the two of us having stopped in our tracks to just… take each other in. Live in each other’s presence for a moment. “I…”

“You want a big life… one a lot bigger than little old me,” he said simply, shrugging. His blue eyes were so honest, so loving. So warm. A warmth I hadn’t ever experienced before. “I know. But that doesn’t change that I’m in love with you. And if you ever change your mind…” Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, pressing it into my free hand. “This is where you can find me. I figure it’s time for me to go home.”

We’d come to a stop in front of my building, and I was shocked at how tight my chest felt. My eyes watered as I stared at him long and hard. “Jamie, please… I⏤”

“Don’t say it. It’s okay,” he insisted as he cupped my cheek, letting his thumb run over my skin as though he was memorizing it. “I just want you to be happy, darling. You got that?” His lips pressed to my forehead, letting it linger. “Go get that life you’ve been dreaming of.”

Twenty-Three

I left New Orleans the next day, grabbing a bus ticket after throwing all of my belongings into my old duffel bag. It was time to move on.

But God, did it hurt.

I didn’t stop crying for weeks, fighting the urge to go right back to Louisiana and tell Bucky to take it back, to get him to beg me to stay with him.

But what kind of life would that leave me with? Working in the diner day after day? Never getting anywhere?

But you’d have James, a voice inside my head reminded me snarkily.

Then again, he most likely wasn’t even in New Orleans anymore, if what he said was true when he gave me the business card of his father’s mechanic shop. Was he really planning on going home to New York City?

A few months later, and I’d worked my way all through the southwest to Santa Fe, where I met Pietro.

My heart was pounding as I pressed in the familiar numbers, having memorized them from the business card now soft and faded from how often I held it in my hands like a lifeline. “Come on… Pick up… Pick up…”

“Barnes Tires and Motors, this is George,” a man said in a gruff voice when he finally picked up. “How can I help you?”

“H-Hi, is James there? James Barnes? Bucky?” I stammered out, hands trembling so bad that the old payphone was almost rattling.

There was a pause, and then muffled talking away from the phone.

And then I heard it being picked up. “This is Bucky,” he said.

It felt like the wind had been knocked right out of my lungs. How had I gone so long without hearing his voice?

Breathing in sharply, I tried to figure out the words to say. But my throat was dry and it was like I’d suddenly forgotten the entire English language.

That was all that it took for Bucky to realize it was me. “Baby doll? Baby doll, is that you?” He asked quietly. “I…” He took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “You don’t gotta say a thing, sweetheart… But just know that if you’re in trouble or you need help or… or anything at all, you better call me…” His voice wavered, as though he was fighting tears just like I was. “God, I miss you so much, baby doll. I love you.”

I love you, too.

I hung up before I could actually say the words. “God, I’m so fucking stupid,” I whispered as I leaned back against the wall of the gas station I’d found myself at, rubbing the heels of my hands into my eyes.

My dumb ass had decided to wander from the bus station, and I’d walked over a mile away. Unless I was staying in Santa Fe for a bit, I’d need to start making my way back.

“You okay?”

In my distress, I hadn’t even heard the rumbling of the motorcycle or noticed the handsome man making his way to me. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” I said even as I wiped my nose with a pathetic sniffle.

He eyed me for a long moment, his eyes roaming over my figure. “You hungry? I know a great little place nearby. My treat.”

And well, I was never one to turn down free food.

Even if that ‘little place’ ended up being a food truck.

“You know, when you said it was a little place, I didn’t picture it having wheels,” I said teasingly, licking salsa off of my lower lip. “Though, it is the best food I’ve ever gotten from a food truck before.”

“Oh, come on. This is the best food of all time!” He laughed, shaking his head.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” I snorted, finishing off my flautas.

Pietro looked at me long and hard. “So, are you gonna tell me what the hell was going on to have a pretty girl like you all teary eyed?” He asked, his head tilting to the side.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Was this your plan all along?” I asked. Wiping my hands off on a napkin, I did everything I could to avoid his eyes. “Get me all fed and then question me?” But at the same time, the thought of being able to finally talk to someone about it was so appealing… After a long moment of hesitation, I finally gave in. “I fell in love with a man, and he let me go because he knew that I want a life he can’t give me,” I said. “And I was a bitch who didn’t even tell him I love him back when he said it to me.”

Pietro took in a deep breath, slowly letting it out. “Damn. You really are a stone cold bitch, aren’t you?”

“Hey!” I indignantly threw a chunk of tomato at him, glaring. “I just opened up my heart, you dickwad.”

“Dickwad?!” He said, blinking at me in shock. “No one’s ever called me a dickwad before.”

I raised a single eyebrow at him. “Maybe not to your face, but they definitely have.” He gave off the vibe of a fuckboy, of a really, really bad fuckboy.

“Well, since you’re running away from your feelings, how about you spend a week or two with me on the road?” He asked with a grin.

I couldn’t help but blink at him in shock. “What?” I let out a laugh, pulling one of my legs up to my chest. “Do you throw that line out to every girl you meet? Or am I just special?”

Pietro threw a chip at me, and I barely managed to dodge it. “No, I don’t. But… You remind me of me. Needing adventure. A life bigger than four walls and a fence.”

Instinctively, I wanted to snap back that sometimes, four walls and a fence could be an adventure, could be the biggest life there was, as Bucky’s face flashed across my mind.

But I couldn’t do that. Not when I wasn’t ready to face the truth myself.

“Come on, sweet cheeks,” he teased as his foot hooked around mine. “Just think of it. The open highway, a rhythm beneath your feet… Nights full of passion and days of adventure…” Pietro’s voice was deep and husky, as though he was trying to lure me in. “No strings… just warm summer rain soaking us to the bone before we find some cheap motel to huddle down in…”

Plastering on a smile, I stood up and brushed myself on. “Thanks, but… I’d rather be drinking champagne, and the quicker I get to LA, the sooner I will be.”

He let me go with a kiss on the cheek and his cell number pressed into my hand, with a promise to come and pick me up the second I rang.

And despite how sweet he was, how wild and funny and charismatic, there was only one man I wanted to call.

Twenty-Four

I sipped at my martini as I sat at the rooftop bar, absentmindedly watching the television that was mounted on the wall as people droned around me. I’d been in Los Angeles for a year, and I’d spent my time finding the best places to find a husband who could give me the life I dreamed of.

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, it took connections to build a career, and the best way to get a foot in the door when nepotism was so rampant was by marrying someone in the industry.

My silk dress was the most expensive thing I owned, something I’d saved up for months for, had skipped meals for. And fuck, was it worth it. I could feel the stares, the lingering gazes on the little bit of thigh that was exposed by the slit in the dress.

I’d already turned away several men, able to tell just from their expensive watches and cheap suits and shoes.

It was amazing how all the up and coming finance bros thought they fit in with the truly big dogs.

“Well, hello, gorgeous.”

I turned to see who was speaking, my heart skipping a beat when I realized who I was speaking to.

The world famous (or infamous) director, Tony Stark.

“Hello, handsome,” I said smoothly, my lashes fluttering innocently as I took a sip of my horrible drink.

I fucking hated martinis. Always had.

But ordering a martini was more sophisticated than ordering a frozen strawberry margarita.

“Is this seat taken?” He asked as he motioned to the empty bar stool right next to me, even as he was already sitting down. “Let me buy your next round.”

“I can’t think of anything better,” I said, feeling as though my dream life was already in reach.

Twenty-Eight

“Tony, where are you taking me?” I laughed as I let my boyfriend lead me to the private dock at our Malibu mansion.

Well, his mansion. I just happened to also live there.

It had been a whirlwind of a year since I had met Tony, and he’d bought me that second round. He’d taken me all over the globe, anywhere my heart desired.

But I made sure to avoid New York City, though he never understood why. I would never tell him.

Not when I was so close to my dream. I could practically taste it.

“Come on, come on. I have a surprise for you,” he said, keeping his hands over my eyes. He was sure to keep me from tripping and busting my ass, thank god.

The ocean waves were so comforting as they hit the shore, a sound I’d gotten used to over the past year.

He finally brought me to a stop, quietly telling me to keep my eyes closed. “Okay,” he said finally. “Open them.”

My eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the bright light of the California sun. But I was more shocked by the sight of Tony on one knee in front of me, holding out a box with a sparkling diamond ring in it. “Tony?”

The ring was the size of a fucking meteor. It was easily the biggest ring I’d ever seen.

“You know, I never thought I’d meet someone like you,” he said quietly, his dark eyes shining. But his voice was steady. “Someone who understands me, who doesn’t expect me to change into someone I’m not. You accept me as I am, and that’s why I want to give you the world.” He couldn’t help but grin as he nodded to the right. “Starting with that yacht you’ve always dreamed of.”

I hadn’t even noticed that there were two yachts at his private docks instead of just the one. The new one had SS Princess emblazoned on the side, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh… Tony…”

“So, what do you say?” He asked, bringing my attention back to him. “Will you be my wife?”

“Yes.”

Thirty-Two

Swallowing nervously, I looked down at the business card in my hand for the millionth time, the stock paper soft from how often I’d looked at it in the past ten years.

Hell, just how often I’d looked at it in the past six should’ve made it fall apart by now. Not that I didn’t have it memorized.

I’d finally ended my marriage after being miserable for so long. I’d gotten my yacht, my fancy houses, my career, all the jewelry that I could dream of, and none of it made me happy. Tony and I… never grew. And I never dreamed. Every day was the same, and every day was torture as I realized that I didn’t have the one thing that actually mattered.

The garage in front of me was busy, music blasting and the sound of men shouting to each other as they worked.

Suddenly I felt absolutely ridiculous wearing a Chanel dress and Gucci heels, an Hermés bag on my arm.

BARNES TIRES AND MOTORS was lit up along the top of the shop in bright red letters, though the lights in the ‘r’ of ‘motors’ were out.

I felt like a fool. I had wanted the life I had so desperately that I gave up everything for it. I got the movie star life, my name on billboards and my face on magazines.

But it wasn’t ever enough.

My heels clicked against the blacktop as I slowly made my way towards the front area of the shop, bells clinging above my head to let them know someone was there.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” A man asked as he came around the corner.

He looked so much like Bucky, it punched the air straight from my lungs.

“H-Hi. I’m looking for James Barnes. Is he here?” I asked after a long moment of hesitation. There was no way that the man was Bucky, but I didn’t doubt he was related.

The man raised his brows, wiping his hands on a rag. “My son’s in the shop. I’ll take you to him.” His full head of hair was white, his thick facial hair matching. Even with all the wrinkles on his face, he was a handsome man. Holding open the door for me, he led me into the loud shop, some eighties rock song blasting over the speakers.

I couldn’t help but smile as ‘Rock You Like a Hurricane’ by Scorpions came on. It was one of Bucky’s favorites back when we worked in the diner together.

“BUCK! YOU GOT A VISITOR!” The man shouted, causing several people to look our way.

My cheeks felt hot as I avoided their gaze, hoping they wouldn’t recognize me. I didn’t want to be a famous movie star anymore, a celebrity that had to beg for scraps of privacy.

My mind went numb, my heart stopping inside my chest as he stepped around a gray Ford Escape another man was working on.

He was even more handsome than he was the last time I saw him.

“Can I help y—” He broke off, his blue eyes going wide when he realized that it was me. “Hi.”

All of a sudden, everything I’d planned to say flew out of my head. All of the eloquent words I’d strung together were gone. And I just proceeded to word vomit.

“Did you know that, uh, when you marry someone you’re not in love with, you won’t… you won’t grow into it?” I asked, my voice shaking. “Um… I married a man who could give me a life I thought I always wanted, and he just… sucked.” Eyes stinging, I fought back against tears. “And I thought that all I ever wanted was the life I have now, was the life movie stars and the Kardashians lived. But… But I hate it. I hated every second I was away from you.” I let out a weak laugh, unable to stop the tears. “I wanted to turn around the second I got on the bus in New Orleans, but my stupid stubborn ass didn’t. I should have. I should’ve gotten off and just run right back to you because I… I love you, James. I always have.”

The garage had gone almost deadly quiet, and my heart sank when I realized Bucky looked almost frozen in shock.

“I know that I shouldn’t have showed up like this,” I scrambled to say. “But I… I’ve been trying to get my divorce finalized for two years and I finally did, and I kept telling myself that once it was done, I’d never hold myself back from what I really want ever again. From who I want. If… If you want me.” My face felt like it was on fire, my hands shaking. I shook my head as I took a step backwards. “What am I thinking? There’s no way you’re not married. I… I’m so so—”

Before I could finish the word ‘sorry,’ Bucky had closed the distance between us, his hands cradling my face so gently. He held me like I was made of fine crystal as he kissed me. He kissed me like his life depended on it, like I was the one source of oxygen.

And I kissed him back just as fiercely. “I love you. I love you so much,” I breathed out in between kisses, unwilling to let him go as my Hermés bag fell into the dust and oil on the concrete below.

Bucky smiled into the kiss, his arm wrapping around my waist to keep me pressed to his chest. “I love you so much, darlin.’ God, I’ve missed you…” His nose nudged against mine as we finally broke for air, both of us breathing heavily.

My knees felt like Jell-O as I held onto him. His grip was the only reason I hadn’t fallen to the ground already.

“I’m sorry I was a dumb twenty-two year old,” I said, snorting as he stole another kiss.

“No… Don’t be sorry,” he insisted, his fingers massaging my scalp as our foreheads pressed together. It was like he was scared to stop touching me, like I would disappear at any second. “You were young… You had to go out and make your own mistakes… I’ve just been waiting for the day you were ready.”

All the years apart melted away and all that remained was the two of us, two souls so intertwined that there was no way to truly separate us.

Our lips were half molded together as I said, “I’m never leaving you again. I promise I swear on everything…”

My heart almost stopped inside my chest as I heard someone clearing their throat, looking to see Bucky’s father staring at us with his arms crossed over his chest. “M-Mr. Barnes, sir…”

He gave a crooked smile that was so reminiscent of Bucky that I couldn’t help but grin back. “The Mrs. will wanna know if you’re staying for dinner.”

“Yeah,” I said as I looked up at Bucky, toying with a strand of his hair. “That sounds perfect.”

Later that night, Bucky and I laid in his bed, a mess of bare limbs as his fingers ran up and down my back soothingly. “What do you want from this life, baby girl?” He asked absentmindedly.

Humming, I traced shapes on his bare chest, sometimes pressing a kiss to where his prosthetic met his shoulder, on the tender scar tissue. “You.”

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, despite the already mischievous look on his face. “Really? Not even the stars and the moon?” He asked teasingly.

I knew he’d give it to me anyway, give me all that he could. But I was sure now that the only thing I wanted from this life was his love. “Not even the stars and the moon.”

[bakuthedeku]

their everyday game

Read on AO3

Words: 3,000

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Things Midoriya Izuku is: A student, a sugar baby, a boyfriend, a brat.

Things Midoriya Izuku is not: Patient.

Or: Izuku wants attention from Kacchan and he is going to get it.

A commissioned fic for @insinirate !

Clack clack clack. The room is silent but for the steady breaths of its occupants and the rhythmic beat of fingers on plastic. Clear, wall-to-ceiling windows wash the sun’s gentle light into the room, and reveal a picturesque view of the sparkling city, looking like something straight out of a magazine.

Izuku glares at the extravagant view. He bets Kacchan is writing another one of those stupid reports of his.

Buzz. The clacking halts and Kacchan glances at his work phone for but a moment before the typing resumes.

Izuku takes a deep breath. Holds it. Puffs out his cheeks.

He slumps over in his seat and sighs obnoxiously.

God, he’s so damn bored.

Kacchan said he had to get one more hour of work done, and then he’d take a break. That had been almost three hours ago. ‘One hour’ had turned into two when Izuku left Kacchan to get ready for their lunch date and had foolishly gone straight to the cafe instead of meeting up with Kacchan at the office first. He’d waited all of ten minutes at their usual table before calling a company car and returning to find Kacchan still working in his office.

If not for Kacchan’s genuine surprise at the time and his gruff, yet sweet apologies, he would be a dead man already.

But Izuku still isn’t satisfied. Kacchan needs a break, and Izuku needs attention, stat. There’s only one solution: Izuku’s gonna annoy the shit out of Kacchan. So Izuku sucks in another breath and pouts at the ceiling. “Kacchaaaaan!”

Kacchan sighs, but he doesn’t respond. The silence in the room grows thick with expectation; Izuku’s long-perfect attention-seeking tone signals the start of the game they play every day.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the clack of keys and occasional buzz from Kacchan’s work phone. Izuku wriggles against his plush seat, making the leather squeak obnoxiously, and clears his throat daintily, earning himself a glance. “Kacchan, I’m hungry…” Izuku peaks at Kacchan from beneath fluttering eyelashes.

Kacchan shifts his eyes back to his computer and types another line, pointedly loud against the room’s still silence.

When they play this game, whoever breaks first (or whoever wants whatever they’re after more) will relent and go to the other, so this can go one of two ways; Izuku will pull himself from his lounging position to drape himself over Kacchan, or Kacchan will pull himself from his work and lavish Izuku with the attention he deserves.

Today, Izuku takes it upon himself to move things forward—Kacchan is in one of those moods where it could take hours to break him down, and Izuku needs results now.

So with an impatient, gusty sigh pulled deep from his lungs, Izuku heaves himself up and slinks over to Kacchan’s grand desk, stalking up from behind him. When Kacchan makes the mistake of glancing at Izuku from the corner of his eye, Izuku pounces.

Izuku wrenches Kacchan’s chair around and jumps into his lap, laying himself over Kacchan as well as the plush arms of his chair. Kacchan grunts out a quiet oof at the sudden weight but wraps an arm around his waist nonetheless.

“I’m working, Deku,” Kacchan says dryly.

“Actually, Kacchan, I think you’ll find that you’re cuddling me and giving me attention right now, and I can’t imagine why you’d want to stop.”

Kacchan exhales quietly and wrestles down the corners of his lips—it’s not quite a smile, but it’s a good enough start for Izuku. “I have a lot to do, so as much as I’d love to keep giving you all the attention you desire, I really do have to get back to work.”

Izuku wraps an arm around Kacchan’s neck and pretends to think, then shakes his head solemnly. “Unfortunately, it’s a no from me. I’m hungry and I want lunch.”

“Then go get lunch.”

Izuku gives Kacchan a look for being deliberately obtuse.

“I’ll order in for you, then,” Kacchan offers.

Izuku huffs and pushes himself away from his comfortable spot against Kacchan’s broad chest. “Not good enough, Kacchan! We organised a lunch date, so I am getting a lunch date. Now.” Izuku sticks out his chin and dares Kacchan to say no.

Eyes lock. Izuku stares with determination, burying his will into impenetrable crystal red and steadfastly ignoring their alluring pull. Kacchan makes an aborted noise in the back of his throat, as if he was about to say something stupid but thought better of it, and finally sighs.

“Half an hour.”

Izuku smiles sweetly. “Two. You’re late, so you’ve accrued interest.”

Kacchan decides to focus on their negotiations over Izuku’s mockingly business-like tone: “Forty-five is the best you’re going to get from me.”

“An hour, not including travel time, or I’ll get our contract from your room and tear it up myself.” Izuku juts out a petulant lip. He’d never do it, but it gets his point across—Izuku isn’t budging on this.

Kacchan stares hard for a moment, then sags and rests his head in the crook of Izuku’s neck. “You’re such an annoying little shit,” he murmurs, warm against Izuku’s skin.

Izuku hides his smile in Kacchan’s hair and holds him tight. Another victory secured.

/-/

The cafe is a relaxing, familiar space for Izuku. He’s been a regular since before his arrangement with Kacchan began, and when it breached the confines of Kacchan’s highrise office, it was only natural Izuku would drag Kacchan to his favourite little spot.

After enough of their regular visits, the staff have stopped staring at Kacchan and his crisp suits and shiny Rolex watches, and they interact more or less normally with the pair when they stop by.

They place their orders, as usual, and Kacchan pays, as usual, before they settle in their favourite corner, waiting for drinks and food.

Izuku relaxes into his plush chair. He breathes in happiness, the scent of sugar and coffee and Kacchan’s handsome cologne, and breathes out his worries. He’s already plotting ways to extend the hour he was so graciously granted.

On the table before him is a generous slice of cake, which is ‘not a meal,’ according to Kacchan, but Izuku wanted it and he doesn’t care what Kacchan has to say about it. Kacchan is still waiting on his own food; some kind of salmon dish, which is about the fanciest thing he might be able to get his hands on at a casual place like this.

Before Kacchan can grouse at Izuku further, Izuku digs into his treat with no regard for manners, or as Kacchan calls them, “basic fucking social etiquette.” Whenever Kacchan attempts to spout this particular kind of bullshit, Izuku rather enjoys pointing out the hypocrisy of Kacchan of all people criticising other people’s social graces.

Izuku glances at Kacchan and licks his lips before he fills his mouth with fluffy, sugary goodness, making eye-contact with him as he lets out an exaggerated moan. “So good,” Izuku takes care to lick his lips and smiles, warm and sweet like molten honey.

Kacchan rolls his eyes, but he swallows like his mouth is dry. “You’re a damn menace, you little brat,” he says hoarsely, despite the way his eyes have been stuck on Izuku’s lips since he licked them.

“Hey!” Izuku kicks out with all the gentleness of a fussy toddler, landing a solid kick on Kacchan’s shin. “Don’t be mean. You would’ve missed our lunch date altogether if I hadn’t dragged you here.” Izuku tilts his head and gives an Oscar-worthy kicked-puppy pout.

“Deku…” Kacchan obviously misses the point of his pouting by a mile, because now he just looks sad, and that is not what Izuku was going for! “I’m sorry I forgot, baby. It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you, it’s just...”

“You’re busy,” Izuku finishes for him, and leans across the table to (affectionately) swat his dumb boyfriend’s head. “I know. I’m not mad, but I do want your attention right now, so cut out the sadness and shower me with compliments like you’re supposed to.”

This earns a snort of laughter from Kacchan, who finally catches on and plays along with their usual game. His whole face brightens with his smile. “Ah yes, of course, dear. How could I spend even a second not overwhelming you with compliments?”

Izuku nods seriously. “Exactly. I’m just so shocked. You should know better than to neglect me by now,” Izuku winks, “Daddy.”

Kacchan makes a point of rolling his eyes, but he’s smiling broadly now, all teeth and crinkled eyes. “Alright, you’ve made your point, asshole. Eat your stupid cake already.”

/-/

Once they’ve eaten, and the redundant alarm Kacchan had set goes off, they return to the car. It’s time for Izuku to execute his plan.

Before Kacchan can put his belt on like the square he is, Izuku swings a leg over his lap and wraps himself around his boyfriend. Kacchan raises a questioning eyebrow before Izuku makes his demand: “Take me shopping.”

Kacchan smacks his head back against the headrest dramatically. “You have my card. I’ll have the driver drop you off wherever you want to go, okay?”

“I said take me shopping, not send me. You have to be there or there’s no use! Kacchan needs to come with me.”

Kacchan looks sad, then, and the stupid man has apparently learnt a thing or two from Izuku, because he’s got the bestest, heart-wrenchingest puppy-dog eyes without even trying. Resting his forehead against Izuku’s, Kacchan sighs softly against his lips. “You know I spend as much time as I can with you, baby. I can only ignore my work for so long, for you.”

Izuku aches, sudden and raw. “Oh, Kacchan… I know you’re busy, you work so hard! Kacchan really is amazing. But sometimes I want to be selfish and snatch up more of your time. You put too much pressure on yourself at work. You have so many employees so you don’t have to run yourself in the ground.”

“There are things my employees can’t do-”

“Like stopping you from working yourself to death? Right, that’s my job.” Izuku wiggles in Kacchan’s lap and captures his lips in a whisper-soft kiss. “So let me take care of you.” Izuku flutters his eyelashes and pulls his trump card. “Please, Daddy?” he asks, words sugar-sweet on his lips.

Cheeks glowing a suspicious strawberry red, Kacchan huffs and grabs Izuku by the waist, easily picking him up off his lap and depositing him on the seat next to him. He waits patiently for Kacchan to break, all the while butterflies dance in Izuku’s belly at his Daddy’s casual display of strength.

“The hell do you need so badly anyway?”

Truthfully, Izuku has no idea what he would wish to buy. Spoiled as he is, there are few things he’s wanted through life that he doesn’t now own, thanks to Kacchan. “I saw this gorgeous lingerie set and I just have to try it on before I buy it. And I need you there to tell me how good it looks,” Izuku states matter-of-factly.

Kacchan clears his throat and pinches Izuku’s cheek. “Fine. Let’s go look at this lingerie, then, baby.”

/-/

Izuku drags Kacchan out of the car by his hand and refuses to let go even after they’ve made it inside the shopping center.

“Come on, come on, I wanna see what this store has!” With Kacchan in tow, Izuku makes a beeline for his favourite lingerie store.

Izuku chatters away as he makes his way up and down the store, fluttering about pretty displays and shiny, luxurious lingerie sets hung up on the walls. He semi-consciously gives Kacchan a consistent stream of observations, rhetorical questions and mumbled postulations about what Kacchan might like best. He picks out half a dozen sets in just a few minutes, handing each one over to Kacchan for him to judge and/or hold like a handsome sentient display rack.

Soon enough, Kacchan flags down someone from the store to do the grunt work for him as he follows Izuku around the store like a loyal dog, face warring between fondness and annoyance.

Izuku is quite certain that the fondness far outweighs the annoyance, though. Izuku is, after all, impossible to hate.

After completing one circuit of the store, Kacchan interrupts Izuku before he can begin on a second. “What happened to the ‘one’ set you wanted, huh?” The man crosses his arms like a brute, biceps flexing handsomely as he pours disapproval into the question.

Izuku tuts at him. “There’s nothing wrong with browsing. Just look at how pretty this one is!” Izuku pulls out the dainty belt and harness set he was looking at, wiggling it around for Kacchan’s judgment.

“Mm,” Kacchan acknowledges, carefully collected as he judges the set. With his nod of approval, Izuku gleefully adds it to his soon-to-be-towering pile of things to try on, heedless of the fact that Kacchan immediately passes it off to the poor retail worker trailing after them.

Kacchan crosses his arms. “Don’t think I don’t realise what you’re doing, baby boy.”

Izuku ought to feel sheepish at being caught out so easily, but it’s to be expected when he’s trying to con Kacchan. Instead, he tilts his head and bats his big, round eyes, the perfect picture of innocence. “But Daddy, what exactly are you going to do about it?”

Kacchan crosses his arms, but Izuku’s got him there. Kacchan wants to see Izuku in this lingerie just as much as Izuku wants to try them on. And if all of this has the bonus of Izuku keeping Kacchan to himself for a little longer, then they don’t need to talk about that, really.

“I don’t know why I put up with you,” Kacchan says, and Izuku giggles, wrapping his arms around his Daddy’s neck.

“I can think of a few reasons,” he laughs. “Now come tell me how pretty I look in these!”

/-/

The driver has to help them get everything into the car. As soon as they’re in, Kacchan orders the driver to start the car and get them back to his work quickly.

It’s cute that Kacchan thinks they’d be going anywhere near his office if not for Izuku allowing it.

“Are you satisfied now, brat?” Kacchan asks, pulling on his seatbelt only after the car has started moving (ooh, rebellious).

Izuku hums. He takes a long few moments to rearrange the copious amount of bags around him, just because he can. He pretends to think very hard about it before nodding exaggeratedly. “Yes, I think I am. For today, at least.”

When Kacchan groans, Izuku shuts him up with a kiss, and they smile like kids in love against each other’s lips.

/-/

Deku seems to have tuckered himself out during their shopping trip, which is understandable considering the sheer amount of clothes he insisted he try on before making Katsuki buy everything for him. He spends the car ride back draped over Katsuki’s side, giving a docile little mumble every now and then when he sees a dog on the sidewalk or a pretty flower that apparently reminds him of Katsuki’s eyes.

(How can the fucker get even cuter than usual just because he tired himself out being a whiny brat all day? How is that fair at all to Katsuki’s heart? Not to mention his wallet...)

(It’s not like Katsuki can’t afford it, but damn, lingerie is surprisingly fucking expensive.)

Katsuki carefully shakes Deku awake when they arrive, because he has learnt the hard way that if he leaves Deku to doze or wakes him too quickly, there will be hell to pay. So he accepts Deku’s blindly groping hand into his own and leads him into the building, where Izuku says something vague about harassing his friend in reception and stumbles off, bleary-eyed.

Katsuki has some interns come down and transfer Deku’s things into his private car so he can attempt to get some work done before Deku makes it upstairs. Deku usually settles down after a few hours of monopolising Katsuki’s time and attention, but with the mood he’s in today, Katsuki doesn’t like his chances of getting anything else done.

He’s gotten as far as opening up an email from a partner company when the door clicks open and Deku sashays in like he owns the place.

And, okay. Katsuki owns the place, and Deku has him wrapped around his pinky finger, so he does own the place in every way but name. But only Katsuki is allowed to know that, god damn it.

“You look like a bumbling fawn like that,” Katsuki informs him, just to see Deku’s sleepy eyes flash with indignation, and watch his cheeks glow a pretty, flustered pink.

Deku’s response doesn’t disappoint, and his nose even scrunches up like a disgruntled bunny, but Katsuki’s gone and shot himself in the foot because now Deku is stomping up to him in a way that says he means business. Deku collapses heavily and claims the space of Katsuki’s lap, steadfast in the fact that it is his and his alone.

Deku slaps him petulantly on the chest. “Meanie,” he mumbles, and curls up on Katsuki’s lap, nestling his head beneath his chin and settling against him, a puzzle piece slotted perfectly in its place. “I’m tired,” Deku says, as if that isn’t obvious already.

Kastuki huffs, presses a feather-soft kiss to the crown of his head. “Just rest, idiot.”

“‘Mkay Daddy…”

Katsuki strokes his fingers through the softness of Izuku’s hair and cradles him as Deku’s body relaxes into Katsuki’s own. “Good boy,” he murmurs.

Pressed tenderly together, Deku continues babbling quietly to fill the peaceful sunset air. Katsuki nods along and holds his baby securely in his arms until he floats off into sleep.

Clack clack clack. With a watchful eye on Deku, lovely and sleep-soft against his chest, Katsuki quietly gets back to work.

[theswaggyrat]

Hi!! I saw that you wanted requests!

Could you do an oikawaxfem!reader fic where oikawa does know where to draw the line with his fangirls and takes the flirting too far. The reader gets insecure and doesn't feel worthy of him. Ending in fluff

Thank you!

hehe... my favorite >:))

Look At Me

Oikawa x Fem!Reader // Look At Me cw ~ angst // fluff tw ~ tears ?? plot - you wished he would spend more time looking at you.

Swinging your legs back and forth, you sat alone on the emptied risers. Earlier volleyball sessions had left the risers in bad conditions. Food lay littered around the seats and a few liquids had been spilt. Sweat cluttered the air that you breathed, only teasing you of the situation that sat before you.

How pitiful it looked to see the one and only, 'Oikawa's girlfriend', to be sitting by herself, awaiting her boyfriends return from his most recent game. Ah, but that's not to be pitied. What is to be pitied is how you wait while he fends—or rather submerges his ego into the pestering attention—off his fangirls; pitiful indeed. How foolish you felt, entering a relationship as such to find that your own boyfriend could not linger with you any longer than he could with his female fans. It was a facade of a blessing, masking the curse that lay beneath the surface.

Clutching a treat you had bought him on your way to his game, which he had rightfully won, it seemed to melt away at the seams. A trashcan sat to the side of the riser; it was a compelling sight to see. To toss the delightful desserts away would be such an easy task, a flick of the wrist. Yet you loved Oikawa so, and your heart effortlessly overwhelmed your impetuous thoughts.

So you waited, eyes glossing over the man who ambled over to you. His eyes seemed to sparkle as he spoke with the women. It was something you shrugged off as a mental boost to his undying ego. As he drew closer, you were able to listen in.

"When you served, I couldn't help but squeal! You are amazing," one of them spoke. Silky dark hair, eyes flawlessly wide and pretty, you wished to shrink into yourself. Surely, one could laugh at your poise compared to theirs. How had you managed to slip into the arms of a man such as Oikawa when there were others who held a far more gorgeous complexion?

"Aw, no need to get your pretty selves so worked up! Though, I have to agree. Just take a good look at me while you can," he boasted, a smirk playing onto his lips.

You tensed, ears perking up as if you were a dog. Hearing him speak in such a manner to his fans came as a shock to you. Rarely did you spend time near your lover when he spoke to his teammates and fans, no matter the gender. Is this how he always spoke? How his group of women after every game always grew? That was an ongoing question you had; nevertheless, it was such a casual procedure. To do it near you revealed that Oikawa thought it was perfectly normal to talk with others in such a coquettish way.

As he came to a stop beside you, it was hard to suppress how your hand shook as you handed him his treats, and how your teeth pressed against your tongue to clench your minacious tears.

What sorrow had you to give anyway? You were his girlfriend; you should be grateful he had chosen you.

It was then that you pulled yourself together and stood, quietly dismissing yourself as to give Oikawa more time with his company. Envy trickled into your veins like water seeping into the sand at a beach.

Oikawa did not think much of your leaving, assuming you were readying the car for their departing. He peered at the treat in his hands with delight. How lovely, he thought, for you to bring him something after his game. You always did that, no matter if he won or lost. A slight twitch in his brow began to make him ponder. Why hadn't you walked him outside? For he was finishing with the girls around him and had wished your touch was against his arm once again, leading him astray from the group of fans that always bombarded him with praises.

Silent melancholy fell from the brims of your eyelashes. They were slow and agonizing, ridiculing your pain. You positioned yourself in the drivers side of the car, hands clutching the wheel as you tried to calm yourself before Oikawa strolled over. You did not feel worthy for his touch, his love, his praise, and had bottled up such thoughts for quite some time. It wasn't until now that you finally saw a truth to them. Seeing him dance around the other women and flaunt to them, eyes swooping them off their feet and into their wildest dreams, he was surely to fall in love with another. Unrequited love, what a doozy to understand how it must feel.

Drying your tears, you kept the silence as Oikawa entered the car. He bounced inside, hastily locking himself into place with a cheeky smile. His eyes found your figure and he cast you a smile of warmth, of love, and spoke with tender compassion. "y/n, hey. I was wondering where my love ran off to." His words told a story of care, which broke into pieces as it ran into your wall of sorrow. It only dampened the shirt which you wore; almost ironically, it was a jersey of his, a reminder that you would be there for him when he needed a helping hand.

His smile faded away at the sight. What an oddity to see a tear from you. Not once had he seen you vulnerable, eyes welled with relentless and unforgiving tears. Had someone done something to you? How had he not noticed? Surely, the moments where he took his eyes away from you someone had not taken the chance to ravage you in any way. So what could it be that brought these tears? His jaw tensed. Even if he knew, how could he be of help? Oikawa was the furthest from knowing how to comfort someone, and there was no Iwaizumi to help him now.

"Please ignore my state of nature," you whispered. "My eyes deceive me. I had a fight with a dear friend of mine, but I wish to celebrate how well you did today." You flashed him a soft smile, a smile which would hopefully bypass his logical thoughts; but you knew he was smart. Another foolish card drawn from your deck, and another foolish play executed.

"Do you take me for an idiot?" He asked, eyes narrowing at your lie. You knew he did not mean it to hurt you, but the usage of words felt as a retaliated attack against your emotions.

"No. Why are you asking?"

He let out a soft chuckle, a sign that he was baffled by how you tried to lead him on. "Darling, we've been together for quite some time. I am not a fool to your lies." You had to admit, there had been countless times where you lied to pull off some sort of stunt. Whether that be a surprise trip to his travelling teams game, or a gift for his birthday. How silly could you be to believe it would work?

So, taking a moment to prepare yourself for the inevitable conversation, you began. "Why are you with me?"

It was silent for a beat. Your hands had left the wheel and the shift fell into park, although you had not moved the car from your spot to begin with.

Oikawa was stunned, and honestly stumped. He could not speak, and only the repetition of your words played in his mind. His eyes darted to your face as they sunk in. He could not believe it. What did you mean? You, the love of his life, the most flawless and perfect person he had ever laid his eyes upon; the person who he felt was the only one to ever match with his beauty and strength. What did you mean? The thought was bothering him, pushing his senses to the edge. "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"I mean to say, why are you with me when I am not worthy of you?" Teeth digging into your lower lip, you began to shed tears, far more than you had earlier. "What right do I have to be with someone like you when there are so many others who are better? You love to boast, brag, and even flirt with other girls who would give the world to be in my position. So why do you drag me through this? How much do you truly care to look at me?" You brought an arm up to your face, shielding it from his gaze as to hide your vulnerability.

He tried to speak, becoming a stuttering mess as he tried to find ways to make up for his selfish acts. "Love, darling, you cannot be serious. You're fretting over a meaningless conversation with a few women. I could never love them," he rambled, leaning towards your fragile figure. You only cracked further as his words flooded your ears and mind. Turning your back towards him, you did not know how much further you were willing to push yourself for him. If he could not see it, not even now with you in such a brittle poise, would he ever truly see it?

His eyes fluttered over you and he took a deep breath. No, that was not right. There must be more to it. His words were like feathers against your brick wall. What did he not understand? "Please," he begged, wishing you would only open up to him a bit more. "Explain to me why you feel this way." A tear found its way to his cheek, to which he made haste to swipe away. The fear that you would leave had snaked its way into his mind and began to strangle him.

It was present in his mannerisms at this moment. You knew he was trying for you. He would never learn unless you grasped onto that sense of maturity and showed him what it meant to be mature as well; and what it meant to feel this way, how you felt.

Then you explained it to him, weeping as you went. The harsh reality was a pain to see as it shifted the gears in his brain and brought him to truth. The look in his eyes, the loss of emotion in his face when he could finally understand what you meant—it was horrifying. You would trade everything you had to retrieve his goofy grin and push it back into his features. And so he apologized, apologized ferociously, and then quietly, pulling you into a loving hug. You gladly accepted the gesture, mushing your face into the crook of his neck.

When it had been long enough, you let go. His arms retracted to his sides and he felt utterly stupid.

"y/n," he rasped, throat still clutching onto the last bit of sound it could give. "You are worth more to me than volleyball, than any fan I may talk to, and the world itself. I promise to do something about the barrage of women; I won't talk in such a crude fashion again." And without hesitation, he finished with, "I love you so much."

You felt at his shoulders, bringing your hands up to cup his face. A nonverbal understanding to do so passed between the two of you, and you leaned forward, tilting as you pressed your lips against his.

Murmuring against the soft skin of his lips, you repeated the same phrase. "I love you too."

[leascorner]

j.b.b. | Marley

Summary: Eventually, Bucky gave his deepest secrets away and you let him know yours. Her name was Marley.

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x single mom!reader

Warnings: Mention of past and present relationships, parenting, mention of food

Word Count: 3.7k

a/n: This is my first story posted on here. I’ve been writting for +12 years now but for the last couple of years, I couldn't finish a single story. Turns out Bucky Barnes was all I needed to get over my massive writer’s block. Feedback is greatly appreciated. (Also, english is not my native language so if you spot any grammar mistake, please let me know!)

Masterlist

It all began with his friend, Sam.

On a night they were out for drinks, he had made it his mission to find someone for Bucky. Someone or anyone for the matter. He talked to everyone in the bar that night, while Bucky drank his beer, sitting at the counter. When it was clear enough that nobody there that night would keep grumpy Bucky company, Sam turned his attention on the dating app his friend had downloaded on his phone some weeks ago. He probably went through a dozen of profiles, sometimes showing the phone screen to Bucky, to what he would just respond by rolling his eyes and drinking some more beer.

That was until Sam showed him your profile. Bucky stared a second longer to the picture displayed on his phone screen than for the others. He couldn't tell what that was: the smile on your lips, the wrinkles at the side of your eyes or simply your eyes; but he couldn't get his eyes off it. Sam immediately started typing a message for you to what Bucky obviously protested. He did not need company because he was just fine on his own.

Despite his super-soldier abilities, he wasn't quick enough to take the phone from his friend's hands. The smile that appeared on Sam’s face annoyed Bucky even more. "What are you afraid of, though guy?" Sam had asked and Bucky eventually backed off, letting him do whatever he was planning on doing. There was no point in stopping Sam. He knew you wouldn't be interested anyway... To be honest, who would be? Bucky got his phone back along with a smirk from his friend. There was no answer after that, and Sam eventually found another topic to annoy the heck out of Bucky.

When he woke up the next morning, your reply notification was patiently waiting for him. For a second, he thought of deleting it, without having a look first. What did he have to lose? Gathering his courage, he opened it. Your words were as genuine as your smile and it made him grin like an idiot, though he made a mental note to later murder Sam for his poor choice of pick-up line. It took him the whole morning to be able to type an answer and another afternoon to press the ‘send’ button. It was the first text of many. Eventually, a lot of texts turned into calls; that turned into meeting up in your favorite French bakery; that turned into movies and restaurant dates.

    This was nearly one year and a half ago.

Your relationship with Bucky was cautious and steady. He liked how you would give him his space, but still being right there for him. He liked that you let him stare at you in total awe or that you always had small kind thoughts for him like when you made his eggs the way he preferred in the morning and that everything was so simple - obvious even - by your side. Eventually, Bucky gave his deepest secrets away and you let him know yours.

Her name was Marley.

If Bucky was being honest, finding out you had a two and a half years-old daughter was quite the shock. Not that he couldn't have seen that coming; you would always make plans, your handbag was always full of snacks and hand wipes and for some reason, you would never be available between five and eight p.m. That was also what he liked about you. The stability.

The idea of being involved in a relationship with somebody that already had a child did scare him off. If he decided to continue the relationship, it would not only be a matter of breaking your heart in the process – and well, maybe his too - but breaking a child's heart too. And that more than anything, he was refusing to assume the responsibility, but he owed you that much. You knew his deepest secrets and still, you didn't run away from him. Worse, you trusted him to be around your child.

You both had a lot of discussions about him meeting Marley - Bucky even seek advice to Sam. And as for the rest of your relationship, you took it slow. It started with Bucky showing up to your Sunday walk in Central Park, feeding up the ducks and sharing snacks. You also spent some time at the carnival where he would watch you two on the carousel – sometimes joining the ride too - and he would help Marley win at pick a duck or buy her popcorn. Eventually, he would spend more time with the two of you. It started with spending at least one evening per week at your place, making dinner while watching you playing with Marley in the living room. One evening turned into two, three, five evenings per week. He still could step out if he needed. You still could spend time with your daughter where he wasn't there. You still spent time just the two of you, when Marley was asleep at night or he would take you on date nights. The routine you three put in place was nice, but Bucky wasn't planning on taking Marley’s dad place. God, he would never see himself as a dad and Marley already had one - though in Bucky's opinion, he would not be awarded father-of-the-year.

    Today, Bucky was picking Marley up from daycare.

He had done it a million times already, but this time was a little bit different. He was doing it on his own. The babysitter stood you up and you were stuck in an endless one-day meeting. You had called in utter panic, asking him to pick Marley up from daycare and taking care of her until you would be home. He had assured you he would do it and it would be fine. Now that he was standing in front of the building, he was doubting himself. He didn't know if he could do it on his own.

Another shaky sigh and Bucky entered the building. The childcare workers greeted him when he showed up at Marley's room. She was sat at one of these tiny tables making some kind of collage crafts. He planned on waiting for her to finish, just staring like he always did, before announcing himself, but Marley spotted him the second his figure appeared at the door.

"Bucky!" Marley cried out, leaving everything behind and running towards him.

"Hey Mar-Mar," he smiled. She always seemed happy to see him and Bucky wondered if she would eventually grow tired of him being always around.

After they hugged each other, Marley was called to put away her crafts and Bucky encouraged her to go do it. In the meantime, he collected her stuff - her panda backpack, shoes, and coat - so he could get her ready to leave. And he did just that when she got back to him.

"We are taking the train home. I'mna carrying you, is that okay?"

She wrapped her little arms around his neck in response and he lifted her up from the floor. After sharing goodbye to the childcare workers, they were heading home.

    On their way to the station, Marley explained in every detail what she had done at daycare that day; Bucky was listening carefully, sometimes asking questions - Carol, she is the one with the curly hair, right? Was Mark mean to you again? - but mostly he was just nodding along. They made it to the station just in time to take the 5:17 p.m. train. It was rush hour and Bucky mindfully chose to hop on one of the cars at the end of the train - the ones he knew would be the less busy at this time of the day. He had only seven stops, so he didn't sit and stood against one of the train windows. By that time, Marley had finished reporting on her day, and she was just watching around, smiling at anyone she would make eye contact with.

After the second stop, her eyes caught the sight of the dog tag around Bucky's neck. She fiddled it through his T-shirt, probably wondering what that was, before taken it out to have a closer look. In her tiny hands, the metal tag seemed to be huge. She looked up at Bucky, with bright eyes and he swore, he would do anything for these eyes.

"What is that?"

"Uh- " Bucky wasn't sure how to explain it in a way a three-years old would understand. "-Every soldier has one. It uh- has my name on it and some other information."

"Is it if you get lost?" she asked, her little eyebrows raised high on her forehead. She did understand a lot of the world around her for her age. "Mommy put a card with her name and her phone number in my bag."

"Yeah, it's something like that."

Marley smiled at him and returned her attention on the letters’ reliefs on the metal. By the fourth stop, she was resting her head on his shoulder while he was still firmly (but not too much) holding her with his left arm. She kept holding his dog tag in her tiny fist and was patiently waiting.

"She is very sweet," the old lady sat on the seat in front of them said to him before leaving the train.

He nodded shyly and looked back at the little girl in his arms. Marley looked so much like you. Her face had still some baby features, she just turned three after all, but she had the same nose and her eyes had the same color as yours. They were the same piercing eyes that when they’d look at him, he felt like they could read his soul. And she did not just look like you. She had also some of your habits and personality traits. She would always be smiling to people she didn’t know. She was always saying ‘thank you’ or ‘sorry’. She was obsessed with any kind of animal; the Sundays walks would last forever if she could pet all the dogs she encountered.

The rest of the ride was quiet, and Bucky got off the train on the seventh stop as planned. At the station, people turned on them as they passed. Maybe this was an odd sight: a man in combat boots, dark jeans, and a black leather jacket, carrying a small child in his arms. Especially knowing the kid in question was wearing white leggings, a red fluffy coat, and a stuffed panda backpack. Bucky didn't mind and continued his way to your place.

    Marley stayed quiet for the five minutes’ walk to your place, but once Bucky had turned on your street, she wriggled to be freed of his hold. Once her feet touched the ground, she directly ran towards a car parked not far away. She squatted down and started clicking her tongue. A ginger cat immediately came out from underneath the car.

"Careful," Bucky called out. He knew it was not recommended interacting with stray cat as they could be sick with all sorts of disease. And to be fair, it got him a little worried the cat was getting this close to Marley. He could already see her getting bitten by the cat, getting rabies, and losing her arm, or worse: dying.

"That's Gus, he lives at number 7," she said pointing at the building they stopped in front. It had the number written on it.

Gus started rubbing itself against Marley's shins and she gently petted his back. The cat then went to rub on Bucky's combat boots, also greeting him even though they never encountered before. And it continued his way to the building's porch, where it lazily lay down.

"Mommy said we could have a cat when we get a house."

"I've got a cat," Bucky stated and Marley cried out in excitement. She asked him about a hundred questions. What was its name? What was it looking like? Was it friendly? Was it sleeping in his bed with him at night? Bucky never failed to answer one of her questions and they talked about that until they made it in front of your apartment door.

    Marley was already on her way to her room when Bucky turned around after locking the door. She had removed her shoes and coat on her own and left them behind without putting them away like you would always request it.

"Uh-uh, we go wash your hands first, okay?"

After that was done, she ran to her room for good this time. Bucky went back to the living room and focused on what he could do to help you. He knew you would get home exhausted from your day at work and he did not want to have you do all the chores you usually did. It was the least he could do.

Somehow, your place was always tidier than his, and he lived on his own. In the kitchen, he found breakfast dishes in the sink and the dishwasher full of the dishes that had been cleaned the night before. That was where he would get started. He put away the dishes easily; he had been around your kitchen a lot those last months and he knew exactly where everything was. He even knew where you were hiding away the chocolate and candies; somewhere Marley didn't have access to.

"Hey Bucky, can I have snacks?"

A look at the watch sitting on his right wrist, she had still a good hour and a half before dinner and he replied positively. He wiped his hands on the dish towel resting on his shoulder and took one of these bamboo sectioned plates he just washed. He was reaching out to the first cupboards in front of him when it suddenly appeared to him, he had no idea what he could give her.

"What does your mom usually give you?" He asked Marley, turning back to her.

Marley shrugged. "Carrots and hummus." And Bucky swore this kid was eating healthier that he ever had.

He started by the fridge, looking for anything he could give to Marley. Thankfully, she wasn't a picky eater so it would be easy for him. Tonight's dinner was in it, along with some vegetables and fruits. He chose grapes because it was the only food, he could see himself eating at that time of the day.

"Grapes and uh-" he looked at the cupboards right next to the fridge "- crackers?"

Marley nodded. Bucky prepared it all on her plate, making sure there was just enough for her to be full but not too much so she would still eat dinner, and handed it to her. She carried it carefully to the living room, Bucky following behind. She had laid out all her crayons on the coffee table next to her Paw Patrol coloring book. He knew about this cartoon because it was the only one Marley ever wanted to watch, she was literally obsessed with it, and she did make him watch some episodes with her. He knew that, when she was playing alone in her room, she would usually pretend she was saving the world with them.

Bucky sat on the carpet, next to Marley, stealing one grape from her plate. She threw him a death glance but offered him some more if he would help with the coloring. He happily complied.

    Before dinner was normally bath time. Thankfully, you had said over the phone you would deal with that in the morning. For some reason, Marley did not like baths. A little bit of water in her eyes or ears was too much for her to handle and he wasn't sure he could deal with her being so upset on his own.

He still got her changed in her pajamas - she obviously chose the one with the dalmatian puppy from Paw Patrol you had agreed on buying a few weeks ago; washed her face with a cotton pad and some cleansing lotion, brushed her hair and tried the best he could to tie them in a low ponytail. You would normally braid them for the night, but this was not something Bucky mastered at all - he made a mental note to watch some tutorials on YouTube to learn though.

"Will you and mommy get married?" Marley asked out of nowhere while Bucky was carrying her back to the kitchen to have dinner.

"I don't know," he said, confused. "Why do you ask?"

"I prefer you over my real daddy," Marley admitted. And it broke his heart. Bucky knew how her dad forgot about her third birthday and missed most of his custody days lately. He didn't really understand how somebody could have a child and knowingly decide not take care of them anymore.

The child in his arm was so precious. It amazed him every day how much she could comprehend of the world around her. She was smart, creative, kind. She knew what she wanted, would be very stubborn about it and would do anything to get it – you always said you didn’t understand where she got her fierce mind and Bucky laughed every time because he knew exactly from whom she had gotten it: you. You did such a good job raising her on your own. He also knew you would always choose her over him, and he had to admit, it made him fall in love even more with you.

"Even if I'd marry your mom, I still wouldn't be your daddy officially."

"To me, you would," Marley concluded as if it was as simple as that.

Living with you two permanently. Marrying you. Bucky never thought of it. He liked how this relationship was working: the kindness, the trust, the love. He loved the movie dates with you, the Sundays walks, and the evening just the three of you. He loved how simple it all was and how it made him just happy. Happiest he had been in a long time. And he wondered if he wanted more. The way his heart was fluttering in his chest made him realized, he did. He didn't know if he was ready though.

    Back to the kitchen, he put her down on her seat before getting the casserole of potato gratin out of the oven. He put a small portion in her plate, next to some chopped carrots and apple sauce he already prepared. He put it down in front of her and sat next to her.

"Will you eat with mommy?"

"Yeah, is that alright?"

She nodded, rubbing her eyes. They had stayed coloring her books a little too long and it was nearly her bedtime. Smiling softly, he encouraged her to eat. She did while asking some more questions on his cat in between each mouthful. How old is it? Why did you name it Alpine? Has mummy already met it? Do you think she'll like me? Turned out this little one never run out of question.

After dinner, Bucky gave her a small portion of chocolate from the special cupboard and they agreed it would be their little secret. Then, he carried her to the bathroom to brush her tiny teeth. It was started to be late for her and she was clearly fighting against sleep, the lack of it upsetting her.

"I want to see mommy," she cried, lips trembling and eyes full of tears.

"I know Mar-Mar, she'll get there soon," Bucky tried to comfort her. You hadn't text yet, meaning you weren't on your way still. He knew Marley would be asleep before you got home. "We can read a book in your bed while we wait for her, yeah?"

Marley nodded and let Bucky carry her to her bed. She had her head rested on his right shoulder the whole time. She crawled under the covers the moment her body was dropped off on the bed. She let Bucky choose the bedtime story and he chose the one he knew she liked so much.

He laid beside her gently and she immediately reached out closer to him. He wrapped his right arm around her, and her hands somehow found his dog tag again. A small kiss on her forehead and Bucky started reading the book in his left hand. Marley was listening carefully, helping him by turning the page.

At the end of the story, she was fast asleep against him, his dog tag still in her tiny fist. Bucky did not dare moving, afraid he would wake her up if he did. He observed the small child against him and listened to her soft breathes. She looked so peaceful and it made him thought of the way she had welcomed him into her life. Just like you, she had taken him as a whole; with his trauma, his insecurities, his quietness, and his staring habits. And now, she had him wrapped around his little finger. He knew deep in his guts he wouldn't let anything happen to you or your daughter. He realized that now. That made him think some more: maybe he was ready after all. And this time, he would not let happiness slip away from him.

  Bucky stayed like that until twenty minutes later, when you showed up on your daughter’s room doorstep. You looked exhausted yet still radiant. A smile had formed on your lips at the sight in front of you. It made you melt right on the spot.

"Hey," Bucky greeted you softly.

You came closer, walking on your tiptoes, careful of not waking up your daughter. You laid besides them, kissing your daughter little fist, and tucked yet another strand of hair behind her ear. You looked back at Bucky, who was intensely staring at you. His left arm was already wrapped around your shoulders, bringing you close. You kissed his jaw, making him smile gently. "Thank you for taking care of her. Did it go okay?"

"More than okay." He kissed your forehead while you snuggled closer to him. His heart could burst of the feeling of having you two near him forever.

He wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

[itsbeaconhillsbaby]

(cruel) summer || tom holland x reader

a/n: well...this took me a lot longer than I expected. I can only apologise for how long this has taken, especially since the absolutely wonderful @glahmouur​ requested it so many months ago. I hope you’re still excited to read, and that I’ve done it justice for you. clinging onto the last of these summer vibes before my favourite time of year - and hopefully plenty more writing to come over the next couple of weeks! I’ve missed you all so very much. enjoy x  word count: 3735 (oops) warning: swearing, gross paparazzi, little bit of angst summary: it’s the summer of your dreams with your favourite people, something was always going to try and ruin it

The trip had been booked for months.

Tom, Harrison, Harry, Tuwaine and yourself. Mexico. 

Two whole weeks. 

No interruptions. No work. Just pure bliss. 

And, it was shaping up to be the most perfect break.

The first couple of days since you had landed included a lot of amazing food, sightseeing around the quaint picturesque villages and cultural landmarks, tackling hiking trails and joining in on the sports activities set up for you and the boys on the crystal white beaches. 

Your favourite part however, was the amount of quality time you got to spend with Tom. Both of you were considered workaholics, and you loved your jobs, but it meant that for the majority of the year you were in separate locations working on your own individual projects.

You both deserved, and needed, this break.

The timing couldn’t have been better, as across the two weeks you would be celebrating your 23rd birthday. Birthdays weren’t always something you and Tom could share together in person, but you would always make it work with FaceTime calls and the promise of a do-over when you were together again. 

“Hey!” 

You tore yourself away from the soft paperback that was resting warmly against your thighs.

“Hm?”

You look up at your boyfriend, strong arms hauling himself up against the hot paved edging of the pool. He shook his wet curls out of his hair, droplets springing from the tips. Tanned, freckled shoulders peeked out from beneath the water. The sun, strong and intense, commandeered the bright blue skies. A far cry from the cold, rainy weather you’d left back home in the UK. You were unwilling to make your way back to your hotel room in the sticky heat for your forgotten sunglasses, and were instead using your hand as a shield from the glaring rays. 

“The water looks good on you,” you flirt, smiling across at him from your position on the reclined sun-bed. 

He grins back at you, cheekily. 

“It’ll look better on you. Aren’t you coming in?” 

You pointed to the book nestled between your legs, “I’m reading, plus the water is freezing.” You teased him, training your eyes back onto the page. You heard brief splashing alongside the laughter of the boys as they continued to play their water basketball game. 

A shadow blocks out your sun, dripping water onto the hot concrete. 

“Yeah, no. Sorry, but that’s just not going to cut it birthday girl.” 

Before you had a chance to take in his words, Tom had scooped you up from your position on the sun-bed. The light droplets from his wet, messy hair chilling your tanned skin. 

“Tom! No! Put me down! What are you doing?” You laughed, lightly kicking your legs, “Wait, at least let me put my book down first.” 

You felt the grumbled laugh against your body, as you gently tossed your book onto the lounger. 

“Okay, go ahead.” 

He pressed a sloppy, wet kiss on your mouth - your hand knotted in the back of his wet, tangled hair as you pushed for more.

“Love you.” He said, before dropping you into the pool with a splash. 

“You suck, Holland!” You shouted back to him, once you’d come back up for air, shaking water out of your ears and trying to scoop your tangled web of hair out of your eyes as he laughed, eyes twinkling. ****

You continued to watch from your perch on the side-lines, legs tracing patterns in the water whilst the sun beat down across your back and shoulder blades. The boys continued to mess around in the water. Your book had been long since abandoned on your sun lounger, pages now curling with the heat. You couldn’t contain your laughter when Tuwaine jumped on Tom’s back, Harry on Harrison’s so the two teams could race from one end of the pool to the other, legs peddling in what seemed like slow motion under the water; raucous fits of laughter emanating from both parties as your cheered on your boyfriend.

You couldn’t help but be automatically drawn to Tom, his smile so wide and eyes creased with laughter as Tuwaine casually slung his arms over his shoulders. His hair was completely dishevelled from the water’s attempts to flatten it entirely. You could see a smattering of freckles breaking out across his nose, complete with a small shock of pink on his cheeks as he was officially branded by the sun. 

“Hey, pretty girl – forgive me yet?” Tom whined, swimming up to the edge to meet you. He gently pulled your legs further into the water, sliding himself between them, wrapping his arms around your waist as your legs wrapped themselves around his. 

You laughed, pushing against his broad shoulders.

“Not sure yet. I’m thinking about it.” 

He gave a toothy grin before peppering a small cluster of kisses against your lips, “You look so good.” He mumbled quietly against your mouth.

You rolled your eyes at him, before returning the kisses.

“Oi, get a room you two!” You laugh as Tom covers the front of you, ultimately taking the hit of water from Harry.

He gives you a light squeeze round the waist, and a soft kiss on the cheek whispering a quick, “Hop on.”  

Wrapping your arms across his warm shoulders, you eased yourself fully into the water, feeling the immediate chill up your sides before wrapping your legs around Tom’s waist. Leaning forward against his back, he held onto the backs of your thighs – propelling you both through the water.

As you arrive next to the boys, you lightly floated away from Tom and were pulled into a one-armed hug by Tuwaine. As Harry held up a fist for you to bump against, you flicked your wrist just under the surface of the water – splashing him as payback.

Tom tread water with the cheesiest grin on his face as all the boys’ eyes immediately trained on you.

“Come on then, what’s this ‘mermaids’ game you were talking about – and how do we play?” ****

The air con hummed lowly, wispy curtains gently blowing in the cool breeze from the open balcony doors. The ocean twinkled in the late afternoon sunshine. You were sprawled out on the large king-sized bed wrapped in one of the hotel’s fluffiest white towels, legs dancing in the air behind you. Lounging on your front, wet curls drying in the cool air you could hear the faint sound of spraying water from the en-suite shower. It soothed you as you continued to follow the written words on the pages of your, now slightly wrinkled and rough to the touch, paperback.

Your phone vibrated from the opposite side of the room, plugged in and charging atop the rustic, vintage vanity table where your new camera, battery pack and Tom’s wallet had all been left.

The camera had been a special gift from Tom which he’d surprised you with on your birthday, celebrated only the other evening. He’d been so giddy the morning of. The carefully, yet haphazardly, wrapped parcel had protruded just slightly from under the bed in the hotel room you shared, where he’d attempted to hide it. You pretended you hadn’t noticed. Puppy dog eyes shone as he eventually handed it across to you, surprising you in bed as the sun was going down, casting golden specks across your bodies, as he whispered a soft ‘happy birthday’ against your lips. Beaming at you once he saw your sheer shock and joy at his thoughtful gift, he had kept the first photo you’d taken in his wallet from that evening. Just the two of you - both sleepy shadows, full from all the sweet lemon sponge cake that has been especially ordered up to your room - cuddled together, legs entangled as you fell into each other’s embrace.

You’d all taken a boat to one of the smaller islands for a special celebratory dinner the next evening; where Harry had surprised you with the battery pack, his smart quick-thinking leaving Tom with a pink blush upon his cheeks. You thanked him with a smile, the rest of the crew spoiling you rotten with drinks and food. As the boys parted ways, you and Tom had waited around for the sunset, high off the sparkling, sweet tasting wine you’d both consumed all evening – bewitched by each other’s titillating company. A small wrap was knotted around your waist, as you had all stayed in your beachwear, black bikini top on show as a server snapped a picture of you both with your new camera per Tom’s polite request. The sun burned low behind you both, it’s vibrant orange glow glistening across the water towards the cove. 

Posting the photo in your wine induced haze, you captioned it with a simple 23 and a golden heart before tagging Tom in the blurry, sepia quality polaroid.

You knew the vibrating would be your phone going into overload. A common occurrence that happened anytime you posted a photo with your boyfriend, the hordes of fans coming in full throttle to interact in some way.

Leaving it to buzz in the background, you turned your attention to the bathroom door opening. Tom stepping out as he shook his wet hair, towelling it dry as it stuck up in multiple directions haphazardly.

“Come here.”

You sat yourself up, legs crossed beneath you as he walked over to you – that soft smile high on his lips.

He sat on the end of the bed as you brushed through his temperamental curls, “Please leave it curly,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his tanned shoulder blades, running your hands through the brown locks.

“We’ll match.” He said, turning to you as your hands fell back into your lap.

“Would it be too much?” You asked, as he gently tucked a rogue drying curl behind your own ear.

“Oh definitely. But I love it.”

With that, he pushed forward. Noses brushed as you both relaxed into each other’s embrace, mouths eagerly seeking out each other, the sweet smells of lotion and ocean spray engulfing you both.

****

“Right, it’s my round! Get your orders in!” 

The whole group hollered at Tom, who pressed a firm kiss onto your forehead as you tilted it upwards towards him, his two hands cradling either side of your head. Your eyes closed involuntary at the warmth before you turned to watch him leave the table and join the small crowd up at the bar. Dressed in a tropical patterned shirt, unbuttoned and billowing just slightly due to the aircon, you took a minute to admire him from afar. He worked hard to look the way he did, muscles contracting and relaxing again with each breath. 

You pulled the thin material of your summery dress down further, eager to cover up some of the bare skin you had on show after seeing Tom’s. You paled in comparison to the web-slinging actor, and sometimes if you focussed on it too much you couldn’t understand why such a gorgeous man would be interested in you. 

“Hello. Anyone in there?”

A hand waved in front of your eyeline. Shaking your head, you returned your attention back to the table where the boys were trying to mask their laughter. 

“She can’t take her eyes off him for two minutes. Outrageous.” 

“What? I’m on holiday, leave me alone!”  

Tuwaine smirked slightly, as Harrison patted your arm reassuringly.

“Why did we agree to have a couple on this trip again?” Harry complained cheekily, grinning his cheesy grin at you. You reached an arm across the table and pushed a hand against his forehead, playfully shoving him back.

“Shut up, you love me.”

As Tom came back with the tray; a colourful array of cocktails, shots and ciders, the group continued to laugh and joke around, cheers-ing to your recent birthday and to the remainder of their holiday under the heat of the Mexican sun. 

**** “Uh oh, incoming Tom.”

Everyone was rosy cheeked as they tumbled out of the restaurant, laughing and giggling as the sun cast its low golden glow over the glistening blue waters. Waves gently caressed the edge of the shore as you revelled in the drunken clinginess of your boyfriend, and the support and love of your friends. 

You walked with Tom - the pair of you in your own little bubble, as he tucked you into his side, his arm slung casually across your shoulders as you wrapped yours around his waist. You could hear the thumps of his beating heart beneath the now buttoned up fabric of his shirt.

As the words spilled from Harry’s mouth, catching you all off guard mid conversation, Tom whipped his head round; immediately sobering up as his arm tightened around your shoulders. You peeked over his.

Behind a cluster of people, the striking black camera was obvious as the paparazzi pushed forwards, eager to catch a glimpse of the web-slinger himself.

You felt a brush of cold air sweep over your body, the hairs on your arms rising like tiny pinpricks as little goose bumps littered your skin. You straightened up, unwrapping yourself from Tom’s side.

“You okay?” He murmured into your ear, eyes hardening as he focussed on the path ahead of him whilst navigating the drunken, bustling crowds.

You nod.

“How did they even find us?”

You could sense Tom’s frustration and anger at the situation, resting a comforting hand on his arm. You knew what this meant, if the paparazzi had caught wind of where you all were, it wouldn’t be long before they figured out where it was you were staying and you couldn’t imagine that they’d leave Tom alone for the rest of his trip.

“I posted a photo the other night. Someone could’ve recognised the restaurant.”

It was during your worried ramble that the shouting started, camera-wielding men desperate to get a photo of Tom.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault, okay? Let’s just head back.”

Your heart was racing as you were led through the dimly lit cobbled streets of the small village, losing Tom’s hand you were flanked by Tuwaine and Harrison – Harry hurrying up ahead with Tom. The camera shutters were getting louder and louder, the constant clicking ricocheting off the stone walls surrounding you as you attempted to block out the shouting and the grabbing hands of the people around you. The once happy, bustling streets now felt claustrophobic.

It was so easy to forget who Tom was in regards to his public image and celebrity status when you were together. Forcing you to recall that he wasn’t just your boyfriend, he was suddenly an A-list celebrity, ‘Spider-Man’ himself. Back home you could easily be together in public without too much attention – only having to accommodate for the occasional fan photo or dinner interruption. Premiere’s and special events weren’t so bad because the press was supposed to be there, and whilst extremely intimidating, you understood it was part of the job.

You noticed Tom and Harry slip down a small alleyway to the right, a blink and you’ll miss it move – as you and the boys continued up the cobbled paths to the main street. It was a distraction technique discussed every time the five of you went out together and had to deal with any irritating situation.

“They said they’re getting a car, and they’ll meet us back at the hotel.”

As Harrison organised your transport, you reached the main road – twinkling lights from the city and the roaring of cars sweeping past you. The paparazzi slowed behind you, their shouts less desperate now that it was obvious Tom was no longer with the group. Their frustration was obvious as they all grouped together, scanning through the photos that they had managed to sneakily take.

Then there was a stupid comment.

As the paps brushed past you all, one leaned in far closer than you had anticipated, stabbing a pointed finger straight into your chest and leaning in close.

“Think you’re so special. Girl like you. So many other beautiful girls out there.”

Whilst the language was slightly broken, you pieced enough together before Tuwaine stepped in front of you both.

“What the hell man! Fuck off, you’re just a bully, why don’t you just leave her alone, yeah? Pick on someone your own size!”

You grabbed at Tuwaine’s arm, shaking your head in silent surrender.

“Just leave it. It’s okay. It’s not worth it.”

“I just hate them so much. Never let anyone have a bit of privacy. Constantly looking to bring people down, and start fights - assholes!” He shouted down the road at the small cluster of men as they continued on their way, “Are you okay?”

You nodded, “I’m fine. They’re just mad they didn’t get their picture. Let’s just get out of here. Should probably make sure that they don’t follow us back to the hotel.”

Harrison came jogging over, hand beckoning to follow him to a sleek black car parked just around the corner.

“Car’s here,” He paused for a minute. Noticing your smaller stature and Tuwaine’s puffed out chest and frown, he tilted his head, “We all okay?”

“Yeah, we’re good. Let’s go.”

Smiling a small, grateful smile you gave Harrison’s arm a comforting squeeze before sliding onto the black leather seats.

***** “Can’t even give us a couple weeks off. I love this job. But I would pack it all in if it meant that paparazzi just fucking left us alone.”

“Tom. Think we should call it a night.”

Harrison nodded over at you. Whilst your body was curled into Tom’s frame, your eyes unfocussed, having found a spot on the wall to gaze into as the boys all had a drink in the private hotel lounge.

You didn’t want to admit that the photographer’s words had any impact. And you really didn’t want to bring down the light-hearted, fun energy that your vacation had been full of. You were usually so good at brushing off any unwarranted comments, which were usually inevitable seeing as your boyfriend had such a large fanbase. There was no way everyone was going to like you, and you could cope with that. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been doing so for ages now. But whether it was the alcohol you’d already consumed, or something else – you just couldn’t stop thinking about what the man had spat at you.

Tom’s body shifts beneath you, holding out a hand for you to take as you both rise from the luxurious chaise. Shaking your head out of your daze, you smile softly as you grasp his hand and haul yourself up.

“We’ll see you guys tomorrow okay. Thanks for tonight boys, and sorry for ruining it.”

“Tom, you didn’t-” Tom waved them off with a shrug, before sliding his arms across your shoulder and entwining your fingers at the other side.

“Night guys.” It came out as more of a whisper, as you processed to walk with Tom up to your floor, your head nestling gently into his collarbone.

****

The hotel room was suffocating.

You lay on your side, facing the firmly locked balcony doors. The room was cold. The air conditioning incessant with its obnoxious whirring. There was a rustle. The thin cotton sheets slide across your body as Tom hops in next to you.

“I’m sorry.”

His soft words caused your entire tension-filled body to exhale.

“Tom.”

You turned to face him. His eyes were closed, tiny creases etched into the space between his eyebrows. Tom didn’t like being vulnerable, you knew he was staving off his true feelings – the striking anger that was coursing through his body. Gently smoothing the creases out with your fingers, he leaned ever so slightly into your touch.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault.”

You pressed a soft kiss on his brow bone before settling in next to him, bodies warm to the touch.

“I love you. You know that, right? Whatever they’re all saying, it’s rubbish.”

The lump in your throat that you had been impressively swallowing down all evening came back to the surface, the pressure building.

“How did you know?”

He shrugged.

“I saw some of the comments.”

The pictures had been released pretty quickly. By the time you had all arrived back to the hotel they were already circulating across the internet, which people took as the perfect opportunity to hurl insults at your social media pages.

He shifts his head to the left to look at you, eyes softening.

“Hey. You can let it out. It’s just me. C’mon.”

You curl further into him, as his lips caress your forehead.

“People suck.” You mumble into his chest as he wraps himself around you, lightly trailing his fingers up and down your arm, the skin bursting with tiny goose bumps. You revelled in the soothing comfort.

“Sometimes I just forget. I forget that there are thousands – maybe even tens of thousands - of people out there who just don’t like me,” Tom squeezes you that little bit tighter, “And it’s okay. I don’t mind, really. I just wish they didn’t have to be so vocal about it – about how I look, how I act, how I dress. About whether I’m good enough.”

“You are good enough. You’re more than good enough. You’re amazing.”

Your lips pull up into a small smile as you look into those concerned brown eyes.

“You’re biased.”

He let out a small huff, chest vibrating beneath you, “Am not.” He sighed, those fluffy brows saying a thousand words, “I’m supposed to make all that crap better, not make you feel worse because of some so-called fans on the internet, and those stupid idiot paps; I’m so sorry.”

“Maybe if you just…weren’t so damn attractive. That would help.”

You both laughed.

“Oh, really?”

You nodded, as he pulled you in, peppering more soft kisses along your temple until he made his way down to your mouth.

“You’re ridiculous. And beautiful.”

Another kiss.

“And smart.”

Another kiss.

“And kind.”

Another kiss. “And I am so in love with absolutely everything about you. You’re enough. You’re everything.”

You felt your eyes glossing over. Scrunching your nose to avoid an onslaught of overdue tears, you felt Tom move beneath the covers – his arms wrapping around your torso, his curly messy hair resting on your stomach.

“I love you too.”

[highdramas]

forever is the sweetest con | b.b.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: language and tfatws spoilers? not really but just in case

word count: 2167

summary: bucky makes a friend in his neighbor and her cat.

note: hiiiii so happy that so many people enjoyed the world's a little blurry! i am going to be writing multiple one shots, all connecting and showing little snapshots from the life of bucky and the reader <3 you don't have to read them in order, but reading all of them will help you better understand the relationship!

enjoy! <3

“stupid fucking thing.”

the swearing followed by incoherent irritable grumbling is like a dog whistle to bucky barnes. he’s standing outside of his apartment, lingering in the hallway, waiting to see if the person will speak again. to the surprise of no one, bucky hasn’t put much effort into getting to know his neighbors. he gives curt nods as he passes them in the hallway, tries his best to muster a smile when he gets caught at the mailbox beside someone else. he thinks that it looks more like a grimace than anything, but still-- it’s something.

“son of a bitch.”

the voice is feminine, and it is angry. he’s trying to discern if there is any immediate distress, and if there is-- maybe he can help. he’s pulled from his thoughts quickly as a door swings open and a large box is thrown out onto the doorstep. “fucking hell.”

the door doesn’t close. it stays open, still swinging, as if recoiling from the force in which it was tossed open. bucky could very easily continue on his way to his apartment, put away the few groceries he had purchased-- mostly pasta and cereal-- and spend his evening how he spends most evenings. fighting off sleep, because he knows what comes the moment consciousness fades and the darkness swallows him whole.

but he doesn’t.

instead, he dashes to his door and places the bag at the entryway, turning back on his heel. he fiddles with his gloves as he grows closer and closer to the door. and then, he sees you.

bucky can’t see much-- the door is only cracked. but what he can see almost makes him laugh. you’re huddled over what he assumes is a cat tower. well, a sorry excuse for a cat tower, really-- it’s half put together with miscellaneous pieces strewn all around you. you seem to be studying the instruction manual, flipping through it before you eventually toss it to the side. “kitty, i don’t know about all of this,” he hears you say.

again, there are multiple options here in terms of what bucky can do. he can leave now, pretend he never saw anything. he can check on you, and then… and then what? he doesn’t know.

he knocks.

bucky takes a step back as you scramble to your feet, pushing your hair back. you open the door and up at the stranger. “hi.” the word is short, and he can tell that you are not in a good mood. “if you’re going to bitch me out about the noise, i’m sorry. i bought a new cat tower for my cat, and it’s a bitch to put together. and i hate building anything, so i’m basically useless.” you suck in a breath and muster a smile. “so, like i said. sorry. i’ll be a better neighbor tomorrow.”

you go to close the door, and he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he blurts-- “wait-- no.” he shakes his head, clears his throat. “no, i wasn’t gonna bitch you out. i was--”

what was he going to say? what was he going to do?

“i was going to say i could help. if you want.” he clears his throat and rubs at his chin with a gloved hand. “i’m alright at putting furniture together.”

you linger in the doorway and look at him. though there are countless people who look at him every day, oftentimes, bucky doesn’t feel like he’s being recognized. sometimes he wonders if he is secretly invisible, drifting through this too-long life as a ghost. but the look you give him is piercing, and the smile that follows makes his heart stop in his chest.

“i’m not gonna turn down someone building this god forsaken thing for me,” you open the door wider. “come on in.”

--

bucky finishes his handiwork on the cat tower within thirty minutes, but something about you draws him in, and now it has been an hour and a half and he has not tired of your company.

you are very charming. that is the first thing that bucky notices about you. and it’s not just your personality, either. everything in your apartment seems to drip in you. there is no wall that is bare, there are different colored lights twinkling around each window, plants galore. it makes him almost feel embarrassed about the state of his own home. if you can even call it that.

it’s not a home. it’s a place where he fights off his demons and drinks cheap beer and pretends that he is okay, pretends that he is not alone, pretends that he doesn’t need sam or his therapist or anyone else in order to figure out how to live in the present.

but yours. yours is a home.

there’s a pang of jealousy, nestled deep in his heart. he doesn’t care if the thought is unreachable for someone like him, someone who has done the sort of things that he has done-- he wants it.

the thought will never reach the light of day, of course. no, it will stay buried in his belly, churning with the guilt and the anguish and the loneliness, too.

“you good over there?”

“huh?”

bucky looks up to see that you’re looking at him. your head is tilted and your mouth slightly agape, and the look… he can’t quite place it. it’s more confusion and less concern, and in a weird way, he likes that. “yeah. i’m fine.”

he’s confused by the way that the corner of your mouth turns up. “you’re a good liar,” is all that you quip before you push up off the ground, dusting off your leggings. “do you like pizza? i’m starving, and i would cook us something, but i don’t want to subject you to that. my mom says the only thing i should ever make is cereal, and even that’s pushing it. says i use too much milk.”

bucky laughs.

and it shocks him. it takes no thought at all to laugh at your words, your charm, the way that you carry yourself with such easy self deprecating humor. you make him laugh.

you, on the other hand, don’t think anything of it. you raise your eyebrows at him. “well? it’s pizza or we’re eating two big bowls of honey nut cheerios.”

“pizza is good.”

you bite down on your lip and you nod, fishing your phone from your back pocket. “great.”

bucky studies you as you order the food.

he’s learning that there are many things that he envies you for.

every muscle in your body is loose and relaxed. you don’t walk, you seem to float-- drifting in and out of rooms, brushing past him, as if you’re made up of nothing but air and stardust. you joke with the employee on the other line and then you hang up and look back to him. “i said we’d go and pick it up. it’s my favorite place, just down the street.”

“yeah, that sounds nice.”

bucky follows your lead. he’d never taken off his jacket, or his gloves, but you hadn’t made a comment about them. you scramble into clothing suitable for a new york winter and then grin at him, face slightly obscured by the massive scarf. “ready?”

he nods, and then you set out. you’re quiet for a few moments, before you say, “you’re bucky, right?”

there’s a silence that settles between you, as if some jig is now up. you glance over at him. “that’s not a bad thing,” you say softly. “or an insult.”

“yeah, i know.” his elbow knocks against yours lightly. “but, yeah. i am.”

you nod and offer your own name in return, and that is that. you don’t allude to anything else that you might or might not about him, his past, or the fact that he was used as a hydra weapon for a majority of his life, now thrust into a brand new century. no, all you do is say, “bucky’s a nice name.”

“thanks, doll.”

the pet name rolls off of his tongue so easily, like breathing. he stops for a moment, leaning into the urge to be embarrassed, but you don’t let him. “no one’s ever called me that before,” you say, brushing against his arm. “i like it.”

“it’s what all the guys used to call their girls.” he stops. “not that, you know--”

“yeah, i know,” you laugh. “i know what you meant.” you glance up at him again. “like i said, i like it.”

bucky swallows his nervousness and instead comes reassurance at your words. “i can keep callin’ you doll, if you really like it that much.”

playfulness. ease. comfort. things he has not felt in so long-- yori has tried to pull them out of him when it comes to women, but it has always felt forced, too fast, not right. this feels right.

“you make it sound like it’s such a chore!” you gape at him, but your voice is not malicious in the slightest. you are holding james buchanan barnes in the palm of your hand and you do not even know it.

“it’s not a chore,” bucky reassures. “trust me.”

“whatever you say,” you point to a small hole in the wall shop. “this is it.”

bucky holds the door open for you and you smile and wink as a thank you and god it sends his mind spinning, intoxicated by even the look that you give him. your name is performed like a symphony by every employee in the shop-- they all grin and wave, some make small talk. they eye bucky who stands a step behind you. but you turn and you place a hand on his forearm and even through all of the layers he swears that your touch burns. “this is my neighbor--” you look to him.

bucky clears his throats and he musters a smile, somewhere between his normal grimace and the smile that only seems to form in your presence. “james.”

they greet bucky with kindness and send the both of you on your way with the large pizza and a free liter of diet coke. “her favorite,” the owner says pointedly, winking to you. “we’re always trying to tell her to stop. maybe you can get her to knock the habit.”

“i don’t think anyone can get me to stop drinking diet coke,” you joke, looking at bucky with a level of fondness. “but he can certainly try.”

“i’ll give it a valiant effort,” bucky says and he tips his head to everyone before he opens the door for you once more. he holds the pizza and you hold the soda, tucked beneath your arm, and you make the trek back to your apartment in comforting quiet.

bucky learns that you don’t have a dining room table. you call it a waste of space, so you two sit in front of your coffee table on floor pillows, eating off mismatched plates and drinking the diet coke out of mugs from the thrift store you frequent.

the night is growing quieter, and you think that both you and bucky sense that it is coming to an end. you think you might be a bit addicted to being around him. he reminds you of the smell after it rains and black coffee, of laughter under neon lights and gentleness.

bucky is beginning to gather his things to leave when a meow turns both of your heads. your eyes light up. “hi baby,” you coo and the cat goes right to you and you scoop her up in your arms, presenting her to bucky. “this is katherine. or kitty, as i call her. she’s normally pretty scared of people.”

bucky hesitates, looking between you and the cat. finally, his hand reaches out and scratches kitty beneath the chin. she purrs almost instantly, nuzzling her face into his hand. you watch, somewhere in between shocked and amazed, as bucky interacts with her. “no, i swear, she hates people.” you pause. “wanna hold her?”

“oh, i don’t know…”

you raise your eyebrows and then he looks back at the cat, who gives a yap. it seems to say: please? he huffs and it fades into a smile and he holds his arms out. you set kitty into them and watch as she curls into him, rubbing the top of her head against his chin.

a girlish laugh bubbles from the deep pit of you belly and you clasp your hands together in front of you, watching with hearts in your eyes. the corner of his mouth turns up as he continues to pet the cat.

“bucky,” you say, putting a hand on your hip. “i hate to inform you, she’s never gonna let you go now.”

bucky looks up at you through his lashes. you, with your easy and calm demeanor, your loud laugh and your inability to build even the simplest of furniture.

“i think i’m okay with that.”

[baroquebucky]

love

a/n: hi hi !! here is another fic inspired by one of my fave bts songs <33 hope u all enjoy lmk what u think !! pls excuse any typos

bucky was cold and sad before you, now he is warm and happy, most of all, he’s in love

word count: 3k

masterlist

Bucky woke up from another nightmare, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. He let out a shaky breath, looking around his empty apartment. He got up and washed his face, looking at himself in the mirror before tearing his gaze away.

Bucky didn’t sleep for the rest of the night, busying himself until sunrise, when he left his apartment and walked to park nearby.

That’s where he met you.

You were playing fetch with your dog, nearly tumbling over every time he jumped on you to get the ball from your hand, laughing as he would sprint away from you, tongue sticking out.

Bucky smiled at the sight, wishing he had a let of his own. You caught him staring at your dog and smiled, saying a quick ‘hello!’ and calling for you dog to come back.

Bucky returned a smile, the path he was on leading him towards where you stood. Your dog bounded over to you, ball in mouth and dropping it at your feet.

“do you wanna pet him?” You smiled at bucky, your dog staring at him wearily as he stopped near you.

“uh- he doesn’t seem like a fan” Bucky chuckled and you shook your head, scratching behind your dogs ear.

“he’s just protective, his name is ace” you smiled, walking towards Bucky slowly, ace following suit and sniffing at Bucky’s boots.

Ace warmed up to bucky quickly, sitting at his feet and waiting for his payment of pats. Bucky smiled, crouching down to pet him, the dogs soft fur against his hand made him smile.

You smiled at the interaction, thinking of what to say next, you knew this was the Bucky Barnes and you didn’t want to embarrass yourself.

“I’m y/n” you spoke as Bucky got back up, putting his gloves back on quickly. He turned to face you, a charming smile on his face.

“I’m Bucky” he replied, blushing as he finally saw your face, and wow were you breathtaking.

Your eyes met and you both blushed, you struggled to find words to keep the conversation going, not wanting him to leave so soon.

Is this love?

“why are you up so early” you asked, throwing the ball so ace could chase after it, still full of energy.

He paused for a moment before answering, “just an early bird” he smiled, you nodded. “what about you?” he asked, standing next to you as ace came back, dropping the ball at his feet this time.

“i have to tire him out before i go to work, so i gotta wake up early” you smiled, yawning not long after. You blushed and mumbled a quick ‘sorry’ and Bucky smiled at you.

Ace pranced back, no longer wanting to run around and play, only wanted to get back to his cozy bed and lounge for the rest of the day.

“we should get going, this guy makes me carry him to the car and up the stairs if he’s too tired” you laughed, bucky smiled and said goodbye, giving ace a few final pats before saying goodbye to him too.

Sometimes i know, sometimes i don’t

Bucky thought about you and your four legged friend for the rest of the day, wondering if you had always been there when he went for walks, was he too caught up in his own mind to even realize?

Bucky felt the day go by fast, feeling lighter than he had been the day before, talking to his neighbors a bit more and feeling tired by the time the clock hit 12 am rather than the usual 3 am.

He woke up early the next day, another nightmare shaking him awake, checking the clock it read 5:54 am, the sun barely about to rise.

He got up, changing and washing his face, brushing his teeth and heading out the door in 30 minutes.

The sun was up as he walked to the park, keeping an eye out for you, and sure enough there you were, this time throwing a frisbee to entertain ace. You looked exhausted and bucky felt a pang in his chest, how long did you sleep?

Your gaze me Buckys and you smiled brightly, perking up a bit as he walked closer.

“good morning bucky!” You smiled, ace running towards him, his frisbee in his mouth as he jumped to greet the super soldier.

“good morning y/n, and good morning ace!” He smiled, putting on a higher pitched voice for the dog who wagged his tail happily, hitting the mans leg with the frisbee.

Bucky took the frisbee, throwing it so ace could chase after it, you both smiled at your dog, running as fast as he could to catch the disk.

“how’d you sleep?” You asked, noticing the bags under his eyes, he shrugged.

“as well as i usually do. You?” He asked, trying to mask his concern.

“it was okay, wish i could’ve gotten more though” you smiled rubbing your burning eyes before throwing the frisbee once more.

Bucky nodded in agreement, the two of you making small talk until you and ace left once again.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” You asked, putting a leash on ace and walking with Bucky towards your car. Bucky smiled brightly, nodding his head.

“yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow” he replied, already looking forward to it.

You are the one who will give meaning to my memories

For two weeks you and bucky met up and played with ace at the park during early mornings, sometimes walking around the park and talking about your days and what you had to do. Neither one of you prying too much, just enjoying each other’s company.

Bucky reminisced on the memories with a fond smile as he told Steve about you.

“no yeah she’s great, her dog is really cute too” bucky spoke, giddy to see you on Monday.

“why don’t you ask her out then?” Steve questioned and bucky shook his head, not knowing how he would even approach the situation.

The following Monday you greeted bucky with a smile, ace bounding over to him in excitement.

As the two of you fell into routine, Steve’s words rung in his ears, deciding to take a leap of faith.

“would you- do you maybe wanna get dinner someday? together?” Bucky asked, a charming smile on his face as ace wagged his tail, looking up at you, almost as if saying ‘do it! say yes!’

“uh- yeah I’d love that” you smiled at bucky, both of you relieved that the you weren’t alone in wanting more time together.

Before i knew you my heart was filled with straight lines

Bucky was excited for your first date, putting on his best clothes and getting some flowers for you on the way, knocking on your door and heading aces familiar bark.

You opened the door, wearing a nice and casual outfit, letting Bucky in and thanking him for the flowers.

“I’m gonna just put these in water, feel free to sit down” you smiled, hurrying around to finish as quick as possible.

Bucky nodded, taking a seat on your couch and looking around, your home was so, homey. Ace smiling proudly as Bucky pet him.

“okay shall we?” You laughed and bucky smiled, saying goodbye to ace as you closed the door and headed out. Bucky offered you his arm and you gladly took it, walking down the stairs with your arms linked.

“ace makes you carry him all the way up these?” He asked in shock and you nodded, letting out a small chuckle.

“don’t let him fool you he is very evil” you teased, Bucky widened his eyes and nodded his head.

“note to self, never get on aces bad side” he smiled as you laughed, continuing to make easy conversation for the rest of the night.

Bucky found himself being nicer to Sam and the rest of the team, hanging out with them more and even cracking jokes.

“you don’t stare anymore” sam spoke, a smile on his face as steve turned to look at bucky.

“Hm, he doesn’t” steve smirked and bucky rolled his eyes.

“got tired of looking at your face is all” he snickered, making the two other men laugh, bucky took a sip from his beer.

“he’s seeing a girl y’know” steve whispered and bucky groaned as Sam cheered. Bucky couldn’t help but smile as he thought of you. It had only been a week since your first date and he already wanted to take you out again, despite having seen you this morning.

I’d like to be in your novel as a lover

Time passed and you and bucky got closer, going on more dates and texting each other during the day, even calling each other when one of you couldn’t sleep.

Bucky told you about his nightmares, telling you how he would always wake up, too afraid to go back to sleep so he would wait until sunrise and go for a walk.

You told him how you had trouble sleeping, sometimes your mind would just never stop, other times you just had too much work.

Within two months bucky has asked you out, a bouquet of roses for you and treats for ace, he has set up a picnic for you during the sunset, getting your favorite foods and talking the entire evening, finally asking you out when the moon had risen.

I’m just a human, you erode all my edges and turn me into love

You made bucky a better person, teaching him his self worth and to be proud of who he was.

“Bucky wake up, angel it’s just a nightmare” you shook him gently, ace watching from the foot of the bed.

Bucky shot up quickly, breathing heavily as you placed a hand on his back, pulling him into you after he has calmed down.

“you’re here, you’re with me you’re okay” you assured him, wrapping him in your arms and holding him tightly.

“it was bad, i was bad” he mumbled, tears falling down his face.

“you aren’t him. you are good, you are human baby, you’re my love” he squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on your steady heartbeat as you ran your fingers through his hair, his arm draping over your stomach as he slowly fell back to sleep.

Buckys nightmares became more scarce, he became happier and less cold, embracing who he was.

He was also helplessly in love with you, constantly buying you flowers, taking you out on dates, taking care of you when he could, writing you letters, and so much more.

You make live to a love

After coming into his life you made bucky a better person, you made him into the person he always wanted to be.

Bucky no longer walked with his head down, rather he walked with a set gaze, giving a kind smile to strangers on the street and helping those in need, helping the others his friends when they needed him and even volunteering at the local animal shelter when he could.

Because of you i know why a person should live by love

Before you bucky would punch his way out of all his fights, he would be hot headed and angry if he got into an argument with someone on the team.

Now he was understanding and patient, listening to what the other had to say and looking to reason with them, taking time to communicate. Bucky was sympathetic, not wanting to fight every villain they came across, instead trying to reason with them. Between him and Sam, usually they didn’t even have to fight.

I live so i love

“angel? I’m home!” You called out, ace greeting you at the door, smiling at the freshly cooked dinner on the dining table, it was your favorite.

“Happy one year doll” Bucky smiled as you turned around, hugging him tightly and kissing him all over his face.

“buck i don’t know what to say” you smiled, still in awe of all he had done.

“don’t say anything, just go get changed and let’s enjoy our night yeah?” He replied, kissing you once more before letting you go.

You were thankful he opted for a night in, exhausted from work and wanting only to be in your lovers arms. And you did exactly that, spending the night dancing in your living room, laughing at his bad jokes and sharing stories.

“okay best pick up line go” you smiled, excited to see what he would say.

“not really a pick up line but” Bucky paused, looking you in the eyes. “It’s a long way from I to U, fuck JKLMNOPQRST, i crossed all the letters and i reached you” he smirked, loving the way your heart raced at his words.

“now i know why you were such a ladies man in the 40s” you whispered, crashing his lips onto yours.

If i go would you be sad?

“God james cant you just shut up and listen to me for one second!” You stated, voice raising out of frustration.

“well maybe if you could get it through your stubborn head that it wasn’t my fault maybe I’d stop having to explain” Bucky spoke angry, his voice steady as he clenched his jaw.

You were upset he had kept you in the dark about an ongoing mission, he was upset you didn’t realize he had done it to keep you safe.

“you keep saying you did it to keep me safe, James i was almost killed because i didn’t know! How is that keeping me safe?” You spoke, anger boiling over as you sat on the couch, wanting to just sleep.

“if i had told you, you would have never let me be as protective as i have been! You wouldn’t have taken your vacation days because you’re too stubborn” Bucky spoke, still standing across from you.

“I just need some time to think” you spoke softly, Bucky’s heart fell. We’re you gonna leave him?

“I’ll go” Bucky mumbled, already moving to pack a bag.

“bucky stop” you spoke, making him stop in his tracks. “sit down i don’t want you to leave, let’s talk about it angel” you sighed, wanting to just work it out and be in his arms once more.

You’re my love

Bucky was excited, everything had been planned perfectly. He had woken up at 4 am, getting everything ready for the following morning.

He had driven to the park with Sam and Steve who helped him set up the picnic, a blanket laid out with fruits and drinks along with dog toys to play with ace.

It had been nearly 4 years since the two of you had met, he knew you were the one for him.

As the sun rose you woke up, getting ready to take ace out with Bucky, only to find the two of them gone.

Just as you finished getting ready bucky walked in, a smile on his face.

“goodmorning doll, let’s get going yeah? already got ace in the car” he smiled and you thanked him, heading out the door and to the park.

when you arrived you immediately saw the picnic.

“buck what-” you began and he cut you off.

“just because” he smiled and you smiled, sure he always took you on dates but this was different, it felt more intimate.

As the two of you sat on the blanket and munched on food ace ate some treats bucky had gotten him, excited to play in a couple of minutes.

“I taught him a new trick” Bucky smiled and you raised your eyebrows, sitting up straighter to see ace perform said trick.

“let’s see what you got Barnes” you smirked and he smiled.

“ace go fetch!” Bucky spoke, ace ran from the blanket in a straight line.

“haha bucky, we both know he already knew that, plus you didn’t even throw-” you cut yourself off as you saw ace pick something up, running back towards the two of you. Bucky stood up, offering you a hand so you could get up.

“y/n, i love you, you taught me what love is, you made me into a better person, from the moment we met i always felt like we were meant to be.” Bucky spoke, glancing over to see ace closer to the two of you, a little over halfway back.

“you’re my person, my desire, my pride, my one and only love” Bucky spoke, crouching down and taking the small box from aces mouth, letting him and giving him more treats.

Bucky got on one knee, opening the box and looking at you with bright eyes. Your vision was blurry, but unlike four years ago, it wasn’t from sleep, but from tears.

“y/n, doll, will you marry me?”

You nodded your head quickly, wiping away your tears and smiling brightly.

“yes, of course yes angel” you replied, wrapping your arms around him as he picking you up and spun you around, setting you down and kiss you, making your knees weak.

He slipped the ring on your finger with a smile, ace barking as the two of you kissed once more, pulling away with a smile.

“that has to be his best trick” you joked, petting ace and kissing the top of his head.

“now i gotta train him to be the ring bearer for the wedding” Bucky laughed and you nodded, squinting your eyes as you saw Sam and Steve running in the distance.

“is that-?” You questioned and bucky laughed, the two men cheering as they saw you and bucky cuddled up.

“she said yes!” Bucky called out and the two men cheered, arriving out of breath.

“thank god, he woke us up at like 3 am to get everything ready” sam spoke and Steve nodded, giving the two of you a hug, Sam quickly following suit.

“I’m happy for you guys” Sam spoke, Steve nodding along side him, squeezing Buckys arm before they left the two of you alone.

You smiled as you looked up at the sky, pinks and reds painting the clouds. You turned to tell bucky, but decided against it when you saw him on the floor playing with ace, voice high pitched as he baby talked him.

Your heart melted, you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of you life with your two favorite boys.

[jeonsjiddies]

little things | jhs (m)

⏤  Pairing: single dad!Hoseok x reader ⏤  Genre: smut, fluff ⏤  Word Count: 6.1k ⏤  Warnings: very brief mentions of abortion (that didn’t happen), breast play, daddy kink, impregnation kink, cream pie, dirty talk

⏤  Summary: The best things in life are often unexpected. Like the two year old girl who ran up to you for comfort, and her devastatingly handsome father. 

Thank you to @excusemin​ and @sugaflake​ for beta reading. I love you.

Part of my Milestone Celebration Event! Check out the other fics here.

The weather was absolutely perfect. The sun was bright and shining but it wasn’t hot enough to make you sweat. The wind was gentle and rustled the leaves on the trees with a tender caress, the birds were singing, and for the first time in a while, you felt good. You had taken a walk to the nearby park, making a few laps around the walking trail before settling yourself against a tree to soak in some sun and relax. You had promised yourself you’d get out more after being holed up in your apartment alone with only your red wine and oreos to keep you company. It had been a few weeks since you’d broken up with your boyfriend of the time, and you were finally ready to become a productive citizen of society again.

It was the perfect day to do so in your opinion, everything around you seemed so tranquil. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, allowing the warm air to soothe you. That was, until you heard a shrill shrieking and your eyes popped open seconds before a girl who couldn’t have been older than two, catapulted herself into your arms. She was screaming, crying, clinging to you for dear life, one hand pointing behind her and you looked up to see a disgruntled goose hissing at the two of you, stalking closer with a threatening posture.

You slowly stood and backed up behind the tree, holding the small girl close to you, ready to use your body to shield her own. The goose hissed a few more times, but thankfully did not advance any closer. You waited, watching quietly, and it seemed to decide you weren’t worth it before hissing in warning once more and stalking off towards its nest. You let out a breath of relief, and tried to set the little girl down but she clung to you and made it clear she wasn’t letting go, so you rubbed her back soothingly.

“Where’s your mommy and daddy?” you asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” she sniffled into your neck.

“That’s okay, I’ll help you find them.”

You carried her closer to the playground section of the park, looking around for someone who might be looking for her. Soon you heard a frantic male voice booming through the air.

“Yeona! YEONA!”

The little girl’s head popped up at the sound, her head turning towards the voice.

“Daddy?”

You looked up and followed her line of sight, your gaze landing on a hunk of a man. He was tall, well-built but not bulky, with thick, black hair and lovely tan skin. The man’s eyes locked with the child in your arms and he visibly melted in relief seeing his daughter alive and unharmed. He ran over to the two of you quickly, guiding the fluffy dog on the leash with him. He reached the two of you almost instantly, and Yeona slipped from your arms into her father’s embrace easily, snuggling up to him.

“Thank goodness you’re okay! I was so worried!” he fretted, smoothing down her hair and fretting over her, causing her to let out the cutest giggle you’d ever heard in your life.

His gaze turned to you after he’d calmed down enough to pay attention to anything but the little girl in his arms, and it was then that you noticed his perfectly straight pearly white teeth, soft lips, and eyes that shimmered like diamonds. Your breath caught in your throat as he watched you and then he began to ramble.

“Thank you so much, I am so sorry! Mickey got his leash tangled around a pole and I turned my back for two seconds and she was gone! I was so scared I thought I was going to throw up, I kept thinking about all those stories I heard about little girls getting kidnapped and sold into slavery and I think I almost passed out. Thank you so much for keeping her safe, I don’t know how I can ever repay you. She is my everything I don’t know what I’d do without her, she’s all I’ve got left and I…” he sighed, taking a deep breath and opening those shimmery eyes to meet yours once again, “thank you.”

“It’s really no problem, I get it. Kids can be a handful.” you smiled reassuringly.

“Thank you so much. For helping. For not judging. Oh! I’m Hoseok.” he extended a hand to you and you shook it gently, feeling sparks racing up your arm and down your spine but you shook them off.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

You both heard Yeona’s stomach growl and Hoesok laughed.

“Time for lunch, little one?”

She nodded and pouted adorably.

“Say bye to Y/N.”

Her little face scrunched up in displeasure and she started crying, reaching out desperately for you, and Hoseok almost dropped her from the unexpected shift in her weight. Taken aback, you allowed her to jump into your arms once more, cradling her close so she didn’t fall. She buried her head in your neck and you looked at Hoseok in shock.

“I’m so sorry, Yeona come on we have to go.” he tried prying her from your frame but she only wailed in response, clutching tighter.

“NO.”

“Yeona please, Y/N must want to go home.”

“No!” she sobbed.

You rubbed her back soothingly, rocking from side to side a bit to calm her down.

“Hey, it’s okay, don’t cry. Look at me, okay?”

She pulled back slightly to look at your face and you smiled.

“There’s a pretty girl!” you smiled, smoothing down some hair that had gone awry. “How’s this? If you go get lunch with daddy, I promise we can play together at the park soon. Okay? Well, if that’s alright with you?” you looked up at Hoseok.

“Of course!” he agreed quickly.

“But… I want you to come too.” she pouted, looking up at you with  pitiful puppy dog eyes.

You looked up at Hoseok for some direction and he watched the two of you carefully.

“Would you like to join us for lunch? My treat. As a thank you.” he offered, scratching the back of his neck nervously, a shy smile gracing his lips.

“I don’t want to impose-” you began but Yeona whined loudly.

“Please!”

“I mean, if you’re sure…” you trailed off.

“Yay!” Yeona grinned, hugging you tightly then wiggling out of your grasp and taking your hand, pulling you along with her towards the car.

Hoseok laughed and followed the two of you with Mickey on his leash. Yeona insisted that you sit with her in the back so she could show you her collection of stickers. You gave the appropriate excited responses to each one, even gifting you a shimmery mermaid, pressing it into your shirt, telling you it was her favorite but she wanted you to have it.

Hoseok pulled up to a local cafe that had outdoor seating, saying he didn’t feel comfortable leaving Mickey in the car alone, a fact that warmed your heart. You helped Yeona slide onto the bench, Hoseok sitting across from the two of you. You ordered something cheap, not wanting to burden him, and made small talk while you waited for your food.

“Thank you again, so much, for keeping Yeona safe. I don’t know what I’d do if something had happened to her,” Hoseok sighed.

“No problem at all, thank you for lunch!”

Hoseok smiled, and turned to watch Yeona draw something on one of those kids menus they give out with crayons, her picture depicting the day at the park.

“So is your wife at work?” you asked, sipping on your soda, attempting to avoid the silence.

“I, uh, don’t have a wife,” he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize - your husband?”

“I’m single.” Hoseok laughed.

“Oh. So it’s just you raising Yeona?”

“Yeah, it’s been just us since the beginning. Her mom… it wasn’t a permanent thing, and when she realized she was pregnant, she wanted to…” he glanced over at Yeona, and though she was busy messing with Mickey, Hoseok still imitated the scissor motion with his hands, rather than saying the word.

Your eyes grew wide and you glanced over at Yeona.

“I mean, I believe in choices, don’t get me wrong, but I couldn’t imagine that happening to my child. I begged her to reconsider and promised I wouldn’t ask for anything if she let me keep Yeona, and here we are.”

“Wow, I don’t know what to say,” you watched his face for a reaction.

“You don’t have to say anything! I just wanted to thank you again.”

“Anyone would’ve done the same, I hope.”

“You would hope, but oftentimes I just get judgemental looks or scowls. People aren’t very kind to single parents, apparently,” he sighed, twirling the straw around in his drink, “so your kindness is appreciated.”

“Of course. I’m sorry you’ve been treated that way. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to raise a child alone. If you never need anything, you can call me? If you feel comfortable?” you offered, holding out your phone.

“Really? You wouldn’t mind?” Hoseok’s eyes widened in shock.

You shook your head with a smile, handing over your phone for him to input his number and texted him so he had yours. Hoseok looked star struck, and you wondered why someone so bright and happy could receive such backlash. You couldn’t focus on that thought for long, because Yeona jumped up excitedly, clapping and pointing to the waiter who was bringing your food.

You helped her cut hers into smaller bites and entertained her throughout the meal whilst eating yours so Hoseok could relax and enjoy his food, and you didn’t miss the appreciative smile he sent you.

Throughout the next few months, you spent more and more time with both Hoseok and Yeona. You’d meet them at the park, accompany them on little adventures, video chat with them before bed. You began hanging out at their house, spending your days nestled in the crook of their couch with Yeona snuggled up against your side while you watched Frozen 2 for the six hundredth time, or conducting a rather elegant tea party in which you’d convinced Hoseok to wear a tiara for.

You spent so much time around the pair, their home had begun to feel like a home away from home. You often found yourself crashing on the couch after playing too hard and staying too late. You searched YouTube and learned how to french braid since Yeona couldn’t stop talking about “princess hair” and Hoseok was… less than talented with her hair. You would sit behind her on her bed, braiding her hair and telling her silly stories and jokes, and began to love the little girl as your own.

Hoseok would sneak up behind you and attack the both of you with tickles or start a bubble fight. Sometimes it was hard to forget you weren’t a family, especially when strangers in public mistook you for one. You’d blush and look away, while Hoseok would gently correct them… at first. Slowly, Hoseok stopped correcting them, saying they could think whatever they wanted.

You tried not to read too much into that, but you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered when he would just let other people think that you were together, that you were a family. Sometimes, he’d even play it up, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you in close, purposefully giving people the wrong idea with a mischievous smirk on his face.

You’d try to hide the heat on your skin, the way your heart pounded, the way your breathing seemed a little uneven when he got too close. While you’d just seen Hoseok as an attractive man and a wonderful father at first, the more time you spent with him, the more you had begun to fall for him. He was so sweet and funny and kind and cared about Yeona so much it burned your insides with joy.

The nights when you’d stay, you both had a habit of sipping on a glass of wine while you chatted, just enjoying each other’s company, and enjoying the peace and quiet. You’d never trade Yeona for anything, but sometimes she was so energetic the both of you couldn’t quite keep up, needing to unwind and relax after she’d fallen asleep.

You’d met his friends and parents at Yeona’s third birthday party, and they loved you as much as Hoseok did, a fact that caused his bright smile to glow to the point he rivaled the sun. You’d become a staple in their lives, a constant, someone they could rely on. It was crazy to you how one fateful day had changed the course of your life, and these two unsuspecting strangers had grabbed onto your heart and refused to let go. You couldn’t say you were complaining though.

Not when you were the cause of Yeona’s adorable little giggle, her tiny hands coming to cover her face while her entire frame shook from the force of her laughter. Not when you’d look over and catch Hoseok watching the two of you with a wistful, joyful expression. Not when he’d join the fun and you’d both chase her around the yard, Mickey following and barking while his tail wagged a million miles an hour.

There had even been a few nights you’d awoken on their couch to find Yeona crawling up next to you, whimpering pathetically as she mumbled “bad dream” and reached to you for comfort. You’d hold her close and stroke her hair, humming gentle lullabies to soothe her weary young mind. There were nights when you weren’t there and you’d get a FaceTime call at an unholy hour, Hoseok apologizing, saying Yeona wouldn’t go back to sleep without speaking to you.

You’d comfort her and assure her everything was alright, and you would visit her soon, and the two of you would have so much fun she wouldn’t even remember why she was sad in the first place. Hoseok would thank you, apologizing that he couldn’t convince her to leave you be, and you’d shrug him off, telling him you were available anytime. You loved her and would do anything to make her happy. What you didn’t tell him was that the same applied to him...

It was almost embarrassing how badly you wanted him, how badly you wanted to be a true part of their little family. You knew you had a special place in their hearts, that you were an honorary part of the family, but you couldn’t stop yourself from imagining what it might have been like if you were to be with Hoseok, if you were to accept Yeona as your own. Would you be able to make them happy? Or would you just be trying to fill a void meant for someone else? You’d shrug those thoughts away as soon as they came and focus on living your life as normally as you could.

That’s when your other thoughts about Hoseok would set in. To say you wanted Hoseok would be quite the understatement. Yes, you wanted to be a part of their family in the simplest ways, to be there for them and love them unconditionally, but there was also that lingering attraction. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him some days when he laughed, when his shirt rode up and accidentally displayed the trail of hair leading down to the promised land.

When he’d display his strength by helping you move something, or when he’d wrap his arms around you just a little too tightly, allowing your bodies to press against each other. If you weren’t cooing over how cute the two of them were, you were thirsting over Hoseok and trying desperately to think innocent thoughts, lest your arousal get so potent he would notice.

Once, you’d gone to the pool with Hoseok and Yeona, thinking nothing of the invite until you’d shown up in your bikini, ready to swim. Hoseok had physically ceased moving and his gaze had slowly trailed down your body, drinking in the sight of you so scantily-clad. His gaze had your skin burning more than the hot summer sun and you squirmed under his undivided attention, unable to stop yourself from also peeking a glance at his shirtless chest. Smooth skin, abs that weren’t too defined but were definitely there, that drool-worthy v shape that disappeared into his trunks…

You’d both snapped back to reality when Yeona had whined loudly, asking you to play with her under the waterfall station. Heat had flooded your cheeks and Hoseok had looked down with a guilty expression, scratching the back of his neck with a chuckle, saying he’d find a chair to place your items at and would meet the two of you over there.

There was also the time you’d come over for movie night a little earlier than planned and Hoseok had answered the door in a towel, loosely hung low on his hips and you’d been mesmerized by the water droplets that slowly traveled down his almost naked body. You’d audibly sucked in a breath, your mouth parting just slightly, and Hoseok had apologized, then rushed off to get dressed, but you hadn’t gotten the image out of your mind since.

On Friday night, you’d just arrived home after a long day at work, flinging yourself onto the couch with your amazon package in hand, a cute JoJo bow you’d picked up for Yeona after seeing it on the app during your late night scrolling. All your targeted ads were now centered around items for young girls rather than women your own age from you spoiling the young girl so much. You smiled to yourself and just as the thought had left your mind, your phone rang.

“Y/N!” Hoseok gasped, sounding panicked.

You immediately sat up, “what’s wrong?”

“I have this event for work tonight that I absolutely can not miss and my babysitter just cancelled. I tried calling the guys, my mom, everyone! No one’s available and I hate to ask this, but do you think you could watch Yeona? I swear it’ll only take like, two hours! Tops!”

“Hobi, calm down. I’ll be there in ten, okay?”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?!” he sighed in relief.

“You ordered me pizza for tonight.”

“You got it. The usual?”

“You’re the best, I’ll see you soon.”

You hoisted yourself up from the couch and trudged out the door, making quick work of your drive to Hoseok’s place. The door swung open before you could even knock, and Yeona flung herself into you, wrapping her arms around your legs, then reaching up for you to hold her. You leaned down and picked her up, snuggling her close to you as she wrapped her arms around your neck.

“Daddy said you’re going to play with me! By ourselves!” she bounced excitedly in your arms.

“It’s true! Are you excited?”

“Yes!”

You giggled and placed her on the ground, turning to Hoseok who was slipping his jacket on. He leaned in to give you a tight, thankful hug that allowed you to smell his intoxicating aftershave. You swooned silently to yourself, hugging him back.

“Thank you so much, Y/N! The pizzas on the way, I already put the tip in. I will be back by 8 at the latest!”

“Take your time, I love hanging out with Yeona.” you reassured him.

He shot you an appreciative smile before leaning down and kissing Yeona on the cheek, then absentmindedly doing the same to you before rushing out the door. You stood frozen in place, staring at the closed door Hoseok had just exited from, shell shocked until Yeona tugged at your tights, forcing you to avert your attention to her and not your racing heart.

“Y/N, come play.”

“Oh! Right. I got you a present,” you dug into your purse and pulled out the shimmery bow, clipping it into her hair.

“Jojo!” she shrieked excitedly.

You giggled and followed along as she tugged you towards the mirror, surveying her new bow and twirling around like the diva she was.

“I look like a princess!” she said in awe, her eyes shining.

“You are a princess!”

Her chubby little cheeks tinged pink with glee and she pulled you into her room, deciding she wanted to play dress-up with her princess dresses and find the one that matched the bow the most. Mickey lay on her bed, looking up at you with curiosity and wagging his tail. You sat beside him and gently stroked his head, causing him to nuzzle into your touch.

You watched with amusement as Yeona tore apart her closet to find the best dress to go with her new bow, absentmindedly picking up the used dresses and hanging them back up for her. If she drug out her toys though, you’d make her pick those up. But she was just having so much fun you didn’t want to interrupt, and the clutter bothered you so you picked it up in between your choruses of “ooh I like that one” and “you look so pretty!”

The doorbell rang, causing Mickey to let out a protective bark and you soothed his fur down before standing to open the door. The man on the other side greeted you warmly, asking you to sign the receipt for the pizza, which you did, before wishing him a good night. You drooled a bit, smelling your favorite toppings that Hoseok had remembered to order.

“Yeona! Dinners here!” you called, grabbing two plates and setting the table.

Yeona came skipping into the kitchen, and you helped her climb into the booster seat on her favorite chair before placing a bib on her so she didn’t ruin her dress. You cut the pizza slice into more manageable pieces for Yeona to eat before sliding into your own chair, biting into the heavenly food. You groaned happily and Yeona giggled, eating hers with her little cartoon character utensils.

Putting the leftovers in the fridge to ensure Hoseok had a snack later, knowing he didn’t eat before rushing off to work, you continued to play with Yeona for about an hour or two before she started yawning and you checked the clock, realizing it was almost bedtime. You helped her clean up the toys and mess you’d both made before pulling out some pajamas for her and assisting her with brushing her teeth.

You tucked her into bed and she pulled on your sleeve, looking up at you with the sweetest puppy eyes you’d ever seen.

“Are you going to read me a story like daddy does?”

“I can! What do you want to read?”

“If you give a mouse a cookie!”

You grinned and grabbed the book off the shelf, leaning against the headboard next to Yeona and began reading.

“If a hungry little mouse shows up on your doorstep, you might want to give him a cookie. And if you give him a cookie, he'll ask for a glass of milk. He'll want to look in a mirror to make sure he doesn't have a milk mustache, and then he'll ask for a pair of scissors to give himself a trim…”

About halfway through the book, Yeona’s eyes started drifting closed, but her little hand reached out to hold onto your free one, and you looked down at her, setting the book down in your lap.

“I love you, Y/N,” Yeona mumbled, snuggling closer to the warmth of your body.

“I love you too, sweet girl,” you cooed, smoothing her hair out of her face with a tender touch.

“Wish you were my mommy.” she sighed, barely awake.

You didn’t move, didn’t breathe. You didn’t know how to respond, but thankfully she didn’t seem to be looking for one, her eyelids fluttering shut before you heard her soft, even breathing.

“Baby girl, I would never leave you behind if I were,” you whispered, knowing she couldn’t hear as you continued to stroke her hair, “I would take care of you, my love. I wish I was your mommy too.”

You watched her sleep for a little while longer, her precious face looking so peaceful and pure. You wondered how anyone could ever walk away from such a beautiful little girl. Stroking her hair one last time, you stood and placed the book back on the shelf, exiting the room with Mickey on your heels and slowly shutting the door.

You let him outside to use the bathroom and gave him a treat before settling into the couch with him in your lap, petting him absentmindedly as your thoughts raced with the events of the night. How Yeona had been so cute dressing up, had been so entertaining with the little tea party you’d both held, how she’d told you she wished you were her mom… How Hoseok had kissed your cheek, clearly not thinking about it, and doing it out of habit, but how it had sent your heart lurching out of your chest. Just as the thought of Hoseok had crossed your mind, the door opened and Hoseok rushed inside, quietly but profusely apologizing for being late.

“I am so sorry, the function ran over and I was on the cleanup crew so I couldn’t leave.” Hobi whisper-shouted.

“It’s fine, I had fun, I barely realized what time it was. Yeona’s asleep.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Hoseok gushed, reaching into his pocket to pull out his wallet and hold out some bills for you to take.

You looked up at him with one eyebrow arched, a sassy look on your face, and that had him putting the money away.

“Are you sure? I can pay you, I know you probably had other plans, it is Friday night after all.”

“Hobi, there is nowhere I would rather be, no matter what day of the week it is.” you smiled.

“You’re a god-send.” he groaned.

“It’s late, I should get going.” you smiled, seeing how exhausted he was and wanting to get out of his hair.

“Nooo, it’s too late for you to drive home alone. What if you fall asleep at the wheel? You should just stay. You can take my room, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“I’m not going to kick you out of your room. I can take the couch.”

“Are you thirsty? Want some wine?” he offered, walking backwards towards the kitchen.

“Sure.”

Hoseok grabbed two glasses of wine and the bottle, setting the objects on the coffee table in front of you and easing himself into the seat beside you, and you both sipped on the dark red liquid as you talked.

“I really am so thankful for your help tonight, all your help with Yeona. It’s not easy doing everything on my own. I know I have my parents and the guys, but sometimes I wonder if I’m giving her the best life or if I’m holding her back from having a happy family,” he sighed.

“Hobi, that little girl adores you, there is no one she’d rather have as her father.”

“I know, but is that what’s best for her? Doesn’t she need a mom?”

“She needs people who love her and support her, and she has that,” you comfort, rubbing his back soothingly, “she has you, the guys, her grandparents, me…”

“You’re right, thank you. I just get insecure sometimes, thinking she deserves better than… well, me.”

“Hobi, you’re an amazing dad! You’re so good with her, you’re raising her so well. She’s sweet and smart and well-behaved. She is so loved and it shows, because she displays love. You are a wonderful father, and you are more than enough.”

“Thank you, really. You always know just what to say. I’m so glad I met you, you’ve been so good to Yeona and I.” he smiled.

“I’m glad I met you too, you two are so important to me! I couldn’t imagine a life without you both in it.”

“...really?”

“Of course!” you immediately replied with conviction, holding onto Hoseok’s hand without realizing it.

Hands still in yours, Hoseok’s gaze lifted to meet your own, and you didn’t shy away like you’d immediately wanted to, wanting to both comfort him, and also look into his beautiful eyes for a moment more. You couldn’t believe Hoseok was insecure about his abilities to raise Yeona, he was the best father you’d ever seen,  one of the million things you’d come to love about him. His eyes flickered from yours to your lips momentarily, and he slowly leaned closer to your now-shivering frame.

“Tell me to stop, and I will. Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll back off,” he whispered as he closed the gap between your lips.

You didn’t say anything, instead opting to close the remaining distance yourself, pressing your lips to his in a sweet, chaste kiss. Hobi scooted closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you against his body, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck. The kiss was sweet and tentative at first but quickly lit a fire inside your core, and somehow, you found yourself straddling his lap, grinding your core down on his semi-hard erection.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he groaned, moving his kisses down to your neck, muttering into your skin, “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Me too.” you admitted through breathless exhales, working your hips against his while he worked his lips against your skin.

You slipped your fingers under his shirt, feeling his stomach up to his nipples, grazing your nails gently across the buds, causing his body to jerk towards you. You smirked to yourself, lifting the shirt which he aided you in removing. Your mouth watered at the sight of his smooth, tan skin. You gently nudged him backwards until his head rested on the arm of the couch, and kissed your way down his torso until you reached the hem of his jeans.

Hoseok’s breath hitched as you undid his belt, looking up at him to make sure it was okay and he grinned at you, running his hand through your hair to gather it into a makeshift ponytail. You took that as an okay and slid his jeans and boxers down just enough to reveal his throbbing length, precum, leaking from the tip. You licked along the slit, gathering the precum on your tongue and swallowing, making a pleased noise in the back of your throat.

Hoseok shivered, biting down on his lip and watching you lick a bold stripe along the underside, your hand reaching to cup his balls while you sunk down on his length, hollowing your cheeks around his throbbing member. Hoseok gripped your hair a little tighter in an attempt not to buck up into your mouth. You took him as deep as you could, letting the tip hit the back of your throat as you sucked him for dear life.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last long if you keep doing that,” he moaned helplessly, his grip on your hair loosening.

In response, you simply bobbed your head up and down faster, sucking harder on his length, using every trick you had to get him to his orgasm. Hoseok groaned, probably a little too loudly, before tapping the side of your cheek to warn you, but you didn’t pull away. Hoseok groaned, his back arching off the couch as he spilled his seed down your throat and you swallowed it all, licking your lips once you’d pulled off of his softening cock.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

You giggled and leaned up to peck his lips, which he returned with fervor, licking along your bottom lip and deepening the kiss, pulling you closer , letting your hips settle atop his while his mouth worked against your own.

“I really want to be inside you,” he groaned.

“Fuck me, Hobi,” you pleaded, grinding yourself on his length, and you felt it stir to life once more.

“Need to prep you.”

“No, I’m so fucking wet for you, I’m ready,” you groaned, lifting yourself off of him to shed your panties from under your skirt, bunching it up around your hips and lining your entrance with his now-erect penis.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded, sinking down on his member and groaning at the way he stretched your walls, the slight burn being aided by the amount of arousal that had pooled in your cunt, allowing his length to slip into your inviting heat with minimal resistance. Hoseok bit down on his arm, holding in a moan at the feeling of your wet cavern wrapped around his cock so perfectly.

Hoseok’s hands came to rest on your hips, guiding your pace as you bounced on his cock, riding him with enthusiasm, your walls clenching around him each time the tip of his cock kissed that special spot inside you. Hoseok lifted his hips to meet yours, keeping time with your thrusts and you bit down on your lip to hold in a moan.

“Fuck, you feel even better than I imagined.”

“You thought about this?” you wondered, swiveling your hips down on him.

“Every night since I met you,” he admitted.

“Fuck, Hobi. Me too. Want you so bad,” you whimpered.

“Yeah? You want Daddy to fill you up? Want me to fill this pretty pussy with my seed? Fuck a baby into you?” he growled and you clenched at the words.

“Yes, fuck.”

“Mmm, you like that? Wanna be filled with Daddy’s cum? Wanna see it drip out of that tight little pussy.” he groaned, speeding up his thrusts.

“Hobi, yes,” you whined, his dirty words spurring you closer to your release, “close.”

“Me too, baby. Come on, cum for me,” he urged, leaning up to bring one of your nipples in his mouth.

Your orgasm crashed over you the moment his tongue ran over the sensitive bud. You held your breath to keep from crying out as Hoseok worked you through your high, reaching his before you had finished yours, the feeling of his warm seed filling your battered hole making your orgasm even more intense.

Coming down from your highs, you lifted your hips to allow his length to slip out of you, watching as his cum dripped out of your sex, running down your leg and his. Hoseok groaned at the sight, pulling you into his chest. You snuggled up to him for a moment before you both got up to clean up, him assisting you by gently running a damp rag along your folds and you running it along his leg to clean up the mess you’d both made.

You pulled your clothes back on and Hoseok grabbed your hand, leading you to his bedroom and offering you a t-shirt to sleep in. You weren’t sure he would want you to stay, but you were thankful he did. And not on the couch. After changing into Hobi’s clothes and cuddling up to him, his arm wrapped around your middle, you felt at ease. Hobi was the first to break the silence.

“Please tell me this means you’ll be mine,” he whispered against the skin of your neck while placing little kisses along the skin there.

“I’ll be yours if you’ll be mine,” you answered, leaning down to capture his lips with yours.

One year later 

Pushing the key in the lock of your brand new house, you opened the door and looked around the foyer, and heard little footsteps running through the hall, a sweet giggle echoing.

“Mommy! You’re home!” Yeona grinned, launching herself into your arms, and you spun her around, holding her close to your chest.

“I’m home, baby girl. How was your day?”

“It was good! I missed you though, you and my baby sister!” she grinned, her tiny, chubby hand caressing your plump belly.

“We missed you too, pumpkin. Where’s Daddy?”

“He’s in his office, he’s been boring today, but he did take a break to play with me. He doesn’t play dress up like you do, you’re more fun,” she whined, clutching at your neck.

“Hmmm, how about we play a little before dinner then?”

She squealed excitedly, wiggling out of your grasp and running to her room. You followed behind her, leaning up against Hoseok’s office door on the way.

“Hey, handsome.”

Hoseok looked up, immediately standing and walking up to you, his hand gently caressing your baby bump while he pressed his lips to yours.

“Welcome home, baby. And baby,” he grinned.

You rolled your eyes with a smile on your face, pecking his cheek.

“Yeona says you’re boring and don’t play dress up the right way,” you smirked, mocking him.

Hoseok groaned, throwing his arm over his eyes dramatically before his smile reached his eyes as he softly said, “Well, it’s a good thing we have you.”

[mcyt-imagines]

hi hi ! first off, just a tip if you'd like more requests/asks in general you should prob turn on anon since this is like the only time i've sent a non-anon ask. but anyways, i'm assuming requests are open and i'd like to ask if you would write either just ranboo fluff in general or something like the tommy confession headcanons but w ranboo :D what you've posted so far is great <3

Thank you so much for letting me know! I thought I had anon turned on already, but it’s 100% turned on now! Regarding your request I got a little carried away and wrote both some general fluff and some confession headcanons for Ranboo so this post is a little long... Hope you enjoy! :D

(It’s important to note that these headcanons are a combination of ones pertaining to his Minecraft character in the dsmp and him outside of the dsmp roleplay!)

General Ranboo Fluff

- Dreamsmp Ranboo -

The first time Ranboo cries in front of you is when you confess to him and he is so happy and relieved that you reciprocate his feelings. He even smiles through the pain of his tears as you panic to cover the skin beneath his eyes, so your hands catch his tears to stop the pain.

Ranboo likes to ask if you need any resources from time to time and once you finally give in and answer, he spends the rest of his day trying to collect as much of it as he can. This has led to a few incidents in which you came back to your shared indent in the snowy mountain to find a chest stacked full with polished stone and countless ores. You’ve scolded him but the way he responds with big puppy dog eyes wishing to “just be helpful.” Sets the butterflies caged in your chest free every damn time.

Ranboo in addition to asking you for want you want he is also very observant in noticing what you need. Any tools close to breaking? Brilliant, he’s already got three more of the same tools ready for you to grab when you need it. He also names them using the anvil to some silly super cheesy pet names.

One of his favourite things to do with you is stargaze. You both travel to the top of your snowy mountain and clear out a space free of snow to lie down and simply hold each other. Ranboo has started asking Techno (on the nights you are away) to point out the stars and tell him their corresponding stories. He happily relays all of this information to you in exaggerated detail, looking at you in awe as your expressions change with the twinkling lights above.

Ranboo almost always carries a little umbrella around with him in case it begins to rain. Most of his friends notice and all start to buy him some. He now has a full collection that line his wall just next to the door. It’s those small things that allows him to remember who his real friends are.

Ranboo LOVES having his hair played with. He will fall asleep within minutes of you beginning to tousle his hair as he rests his head in your lap. He may make soft enderman noises, but you don’t dare tell him. Content on keeping that little secret to yourself.

Ranboo has to be kinda careful around snow considering that if it melts it will hurt him. Meaning he has to sit out on any snowball fights that occur. And they occur more frequently than you would think. It usually starts with Phil throwing a rogue snowball at Techno when Phil notices him slumping his shoulders. Which means it doesn’t take long until it’s a full-blown war. You usually find yourself smack bang in the middle of it and have to dive down to avoid getting pummelled in the crossfire. Ranboo will call you over to hide behind Techno’s house. As the onslaught continues between the two. you giggle and commentate over the fierce battle together.

- Outside of Dreamsmp Ranboo - 

Ranboo enjoys watching you whenever you are focused on something. He’s incredibly observant and finds himself mimicking the small little nuances he sees you exhibit. He gets incredibly flustered whenever you notice that he’s picked up on them, but he doesn’t bother to deny it.

Ranboo finds himself staring at you a lot. He doesn’t mean to but he can’t help it. You catch him frequently, “Watching me real closely, hm?” He tries to stutter out an answer to defend himself, but you just smile and tell him it’s okay.

Ranboo finds a lot of comfort in doing ‘domestic’ activities with you. However, one of his personal favourites is when the two of you go out to get groceries together. His mum will give him a small list and he’ll try his best to dawdle around the store whilst swinging your intertwined hands to make the visit as long as possible. It makes him think of a future in which the two of you get to do this every single week and that alone warms his heart.

Ranboo always has to be near you, he doesn’t have to be physically touching you but he prefers to just be stupidly close to you. It always makes you laugh when he sits just close enough to you that you don’t touch, so now he has to do it forever.

Your laugh is one of his favourite sounds. To the point that if you giggle or laugh at something, he will just keep doing it over and over again for as long as you keep laughing at it. Which eventually leads to the both of you red-faced and gasping for air.

Ranboo is a terrible cook. But he tries so hard to follow recipes and they always flop. He also for some reason, cannot attempt cooking without making an utter mess of himself. Whether it’s spilling flour all over himself, getting egg yolk splatter somehow in his hair or just spilling copious amounts of milk on the floor so that he slips. This boy is a walking, talking kitchen DISASTER. So now he can only cook with you supervising him. Which turns out, wasn’t as much of a punishment as it should have been. As your tutelage seems to have slightly improved his cooking skills. However, now you also get flour spilt all over you as well.

Ranboo Confession Headcanons

- Realising he likes you - 

Ranboo denies he has feelings for you at first. Believing that you’re just a good friend whose company he really enjoys. But the more he focuses on your friendship the quicker he realises he would prefer if you were more to him than that.

This thought alone sends him into a little bit of a spiral for a few days. Grappling with the thought of rejection and the guilt he would feel if he ever hurt you.

He spends most of the time grappling with his feelings he continues to try and act as normal as possible around you. You finding out would be his worst nightmare.

Ranboo realises he has absolutely no history in the dating department and desperately needs some guidance. He may ask Phil on a whim who would try his best to give the poor panicked boy some words of wisdom. Ranboo takes the advice to heart immediately, promising Phil he will update him on how his feelings for you turn out.

Ranboo finds himself writing about you in one of his many journals. He finds putting words on the page seems to help clear his mind. He tries to script his confession a few times. Desperately floundering to find the right words, but he always seems to fall short. He usually ends up scribbling all over those pages until you can barely tell someone had even written on them. Hoping to somehow erase the thoughts in the process.  

He even tries drawing you a few times when he finds himself with enough spare time. He doesn’t think they’re any good though. Sure, the sketches look like you, but they don’t make him feel the way you do. When he looks at the page his chest doesn’t tighten because of your beauty, but instead because of the way you’ve made him feel. Which he comes to the sad conclusion is something he simply cannot capture in his words or his drawings. He has to show it through his actions. Not exactly his strong suit. But he’s determined to do right by you. So, he devises a plan.

- Confessing to you - 

This boy plans the whole day down to a t, he has multiple back-up plans just in case his first one falls short.

Ranboo invites you over for lunch. Arriving at his place you notice how clean it is. He spent the last few days cleaning it top to bottom.

You spend a few minutes in the house chatting. You notice Ranboo is on edge almost immediately. Shoulders a pinch too tight, his smiles a little too wide and none of them reach his eyes.

You ask what you’re going to be having for lunch and he reveals a wicker basket from his kitchen. “A picnic!” Your heart warms, “I would’ve brought something if you’d told me beforehand.” He smiles at that, “Exactly. I even cooked without you, you should be proud.” 

He shuffles on his feet a little, wishing to be praised, “We’ll see how the food tastes first, maybe then I’ll tell you how proud I am.” You tease, moving to elbow him lightly. You notice the way his face flushes as you move into his space. His mother appears from upstairs, “Are you two leaving? I could drive you, y’know!” “No thanks mom!!” He is quick to grab your hand and practically drag you out of the house and away from his all knowing mom.

The bus ride is on the longer side and you find yourself feeling brave enough to scoot a little closer to Ranboo. “Hey, is it okay if I?” You gesture between your head and his shoulder, the cute, shocked expression he sends you causes you to grin. “Uh s-sure!” 

You softly press your head against his shoulder, “Thanks, pretty comfy shoulder you got here should’ve asked you to share it sooner.” You tease, nuzzling his shoulder lightly just for a reaction. And you get one alright, his skin goes such a lovely shade of red all the way up to the tips of his ears. You giggle softly, trying your best to hold it in and failing miserably.

You even manage to fall asleep despite your own heartbeat quickening at Ranboo’s closeness. You are tapped awake by him, “Hmm?” You rub one of your eyes knowingly appearing adorable and the way he looks at you makes it all worth it. “It’s our stop soon, we gotta get up.” 

You nod and lazily stand and he follows suit. Only for the bus to brake abruptly, promptly shoving you into his chest. He wraps his arms around you quickly to steady you whilst you desperately cling to the wicker basket, “You okay?” You both mumble to each other before laughing it off and nodding. “Oh crap.” Ranboo grabs your free hand and you both scramble to get to the front of the bus to hop off. Sparks fly up your arm at the extended contact, even as you jump off the bus.

Ranboo happily leads you to a spot he had picked out earlier in the month. A soft patch of grass below a large willow tree that now sways softly in the warm breeze. You set up your carefully packaged feast with haste now that your stomachs are grumbling.

Ranboo forcefully tries to make himself relax knowing you’ve probably noticed his tense state by now. But you choose not to push him on it, taking an educated guess on why he’s so stressed.

You are quick to compliment his cooking skills when he divvies out a freshly baked quiche.  Even though you know his mom for sure did most of the work. It’s the thought that counts. You hope that may snap him out of the stupor he seems to be in. However, no such luck.

“Hey Ranboo, do you want to talk about something?” Ranboo goes into full panic mode. He did not have a plan for you asking something like this. He thought you weren’t confrontational!! You watch as his expression changes rapidly. You look away, “You don’t have to tell me, it’s okay. I just thought you might want to-“ 

He takes one of your hands in his. Why is he doing this??? This isn’t part of the plan at all! “I…” His throat goes dry. All those hours obsessing over what he was going to say to you are sent out the window when he finally meets your eyes.

“I think I like you.” He hasn’t realised he’s even said it until its waaaaaay too late. Your eyes widen, you didn’t think he’d actually admit it to you. You squeeze his hand as you watch his eyes seem to lose focus, “I like you too.” He is silent for several long moments until he starts blinking rapidly, “Huh!?” The look of utter surprise on his face causes you to burst out laughing.

“Wait, wait, wait you’re serious?” He grabs your arm as a grin slowly starts to creep onto his face. “Sure am.” And as you meet his gaze you realise that his grin actually reached his eyes, for the first time in a long while. 

“So, you gonna kiss me now or what?” You tease as his face shines a dark red. “W-well I, uh-“ His stuttering only allows for you to sneak closer and press a firm kiss to his cheek. Somehow, he grows even redder and you sigh pleasantly. “My heart definitely made the right choice with you Ranboo.”

Meanwhile Ranboo is too busy freaking out over the fact that you weren’t even meant to find out he liked you until you were stargazing together later tonight. His plans are utterly ruined! But as you squeeze his hand again to bring his thoughts back into the present, he wonders that perhaps spontaneity isn’t such a bad thing sometimes.

~My ask box is always open if you’ve got any requests or just want to vent about the dreamsmp lore!~

[garbagevanfleet]

Brightest Blue (series)

PART ONE

Pairing: Josh & female!Reader Warnings:  None yet.  Summary: Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place. Notes: Here we are everyone. This fic has been a long time in the making, but I’m pretty dang happy with it so far! I made Josh extra lovable and squishy for you all. I hope you enjoy! This fic is edited by the amazing and gorgeous, @lantern-inthenight. And big thanks as always to @myownparadise96. I literally could not have found the motivation to do this fic without you. 

MASTERPOST 

taglist: @myownparadise96 @n1-party-anthem @valleyd0ll @bigblack-catattack @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @oblvions @hansonobsessed​ @satingrass-maidensfair​

The scenery in Michigan was vastly different than back home. You were used to and comfortable with the nearly unforgiving heat of the American South West, but the farther away you got from home, the more foreign everything seemed. The scrubland slowly started being replaced by emerald green grass and dense forests of towering pines. Once you hit Illinois, little farmsteads were scattered along every road you took, boasting fields thick with corn and beans. 

It was a bit over a full day’s worth of driving. You had originally thought you could just drive right through - after all, you were young and you had plenty of caffeine at the ready. In reality, you wound up digesting the trip over two days. 

You were a fortunate enough person that you had a reliable car, which made up for the fact that it wasn’t very pretty to look at. It didn’t exactly sip gas, but that had never even been a concern before this - it wasn’t very often that you left home, let alone make a trip across the country. But you were able to breathe a sigh of relief when you started seeing the exit signs for Ann Arbor. 

Your parents had been a bit judgemental about you picking a school so far away - they were even worse homebodies than you, and they knew that you being across the country meant they wouldn’t be seeing you until the school year was over - but there was no way you could turn down an opportunity like this one. You had worked your ass off to qualify for a scholarship, knowing full well that there was no way you could afford higher education otherwise. MU hadn’t been your very first choice but with one of the better programs in the country for your desired field, you just couldn’t turn it down. 

You had to pull over into a McDonald’s parking lot to pull up the address you were looking for and program it into your phone’s GPS before continuing further into the city. Your mother had been particularly wary about your living situation. See, she was a woman that adamantly liked to have a plan and then stick to it - she didn’t see any value in just letting things happen. “Go with the flow” wasn’t in her vocabulary, but you’d always romanticised the idea. Which was why, when you pulled up to the apartment that you were going to be living in for the next year, it was the first time you’d ever seen it. 

You had found the listing on the Facebook marketplace for the area, looked at a couple of pictures, and signed the lease agreement online - all without knowing what you were really in for. You’d been informed that you’d have a roommate when you’d contacted the landlord, but she hadn’t mentioned a thing about the person other than that. All she really said was “no pets, no smoking, and one month’s rent for the security deposit. You had told yourself that it didn’t really matter what the situation was as long as the other person wasn’t outwardly malicious and the place wasn’t infested with pests or anything, even though you knew it mattered a little. 

An audible sigh of relief left your lips when you pulled into the apartment parking lot and found that your new home looked well kept. The building had old, slide-up windows, but the brick siding was clean, and the shrubs that lined the property were trimmed and neat. You and your back seat stuffed to max capacity with house plants had made it - and with only a bit of sleep deprivation and caffeine jitters for damages. 

After you got out of the car, you grabbed your very favorite potted cactus and found your way into the building, meandering down the dim hall until you came upon the door marked 6. You hadn’t been given a key yet, so you knocked with your free hand and waited until you heard someone shuffling around inside.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous - obviously, you were - but more than anything you were excited. Anxious, maybe? That seemed like the right word. 

The door opened to reveal a boy, around your age, hair a mess of curls on the top and shorn tighter to the sides of his head. You were immediately taken aback by the depth in his eyes, chocolatey and warm. 

“What’s up?” he asked casually, leaning against the door frame, a pair of old-school headphones dangling from his hand. 

You frowned at him slightly, suddenly terrified you’d gotten the wrong apartment number. You weren’t sure how you’d live with that embarrassment, especially if you had to live next door to him - you’d just be that stupid girl that didn’t even know where she lived.  “Oh, I think I’m your new roommate? This is number six, right?” You peered around the other side of the open door, just to confirm.

A beaming grin spread over his soft face, showing you his blindingly white teeth and the deepest pair of dimples you’d ever seen. “Oh, cool, yeah. Come on in.”

He stepped aside, giving a dramatically flourished bow as a gesture for you to enter. You obliged, and even though this was your new house too, you paused and waited as he shut the door behind you. 

“Sorry, I was expecting you yesterday, so.” He trailed off with a sheepish smile and then extended his free hand to you. “Anyway, I’m Josh.” 

You shifted your cactus to one arm so you could shake his hand. “Y/N. Yeah, sorry, it took me longer than I expected to get here. Which is why my stuff apparently showed up before I did.”

You eyed around the apartment, spotting boxes of your things in piles. The original plan your parents had come up with was to have you rent a U-Haul, but since you’d never driven anything bigger than your Camry, you had quickly shot that idea down. After some expert negotiating, they had agreed to hire a moving company. You hadn’t had the balls to ask what a service like that had set them back - decided instead that it was better if you didn’t know. 

“Oh yeah,” he replied, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It all showed up yesterday at like noon. One of the boxes was open a little, and I saw records so I looked through them to make sure you weren’t some kind of freak.”

It was more of a statement than a warning, and the smile he gave you showed not even a shred of an apology so you just smiled back. “Find anything you like?”

He turned on his heel and headed into the kitchen - connected to the living room by a huge square archway. “Your music taste is,” He paused, opening a cupboard and pulling down two mismatched glasses. “Eclectic.”

You laughed at him, bending to gently set your plant down on a side table. “That’s true.” 

“But I found plenty I could listen to, so I guess you’re okay. You want some juice?” he asked as he held up a paper carton of store brand orange juice

. 

“That would be lovely,” you agreed, standing stick straight the way you did when in the presence of new company. “My dad used to take me to a lot of thrift stores and we’d go home with a minimum of two records per trip.”

“I love thrifting,” he said simply, giving you an alarmingly serious look. “There are three here, I think. Every once in a while you can find something really worth keeping. I have kind of a ‘catch and release’ policy where if I don’t instantly know what I’m going to do with an item, I leave it there, but I think - like - a third of my wardrobe is from thrift stores.”

You listened, feeling oddly entranced by the way he was handing you thoughts as they came to him. There was something truly honest about it - a quality people back home didn’t seem to have. It was charming. 

He brought your glass of juice to you and then motioned to the rest of the apartment. “You want the grand tour of Casa De Joshua-” He gave you a pointed look and a cheesy grin. “And Y/N?” 

You breathed a laugh at him, nodding as you sipped. “Please.”

“Okay, try not to get lost - this is obviously the living room. I do most of my living here as the name would suggest. I found this couch on the side of the road - actually almost all of my furniture is adopted.” As he explained, he was gesturing to items like Vanna White.

The couch looked. Well-loved. You could tell just at a glance that it was probably past it’s prime when Josh had stumbled upon it, but it did look comfortable, and it wasn’t like you had a couch to offer, so you were happy with it. 

“I have this TV but it’s really only for movies and stuff because I’m twenty-two and I’d rather die than pay for cable. But there are literally hundreds of DVDs in the TV stand that you are welcome to peruse at your leisure,” he informed, his hands gesturing almost arbitrarily as he talked. 

You followed as he moved on through the archway. “This is the kitchen. All of the food lives here. There’s lots of stuff, but I try to just make two bigger meals per day. I don’t have a real ice tray so I’ve been using a chocolate mold- Well anyway, our ice will be in the shape of wiener dogs.”

You were shocked at the laugh that escaped you, genuine and uncontrolled. He grinned over at you, clearly also surprised - but pleased with himself for getting the reaction he was aiming for. 

“I think I can live with that.” 

“Good,” he agreed simply, giving you a new kind of smile - something sweeter. After a beat, he motioned down the hall with his eyes, letting you lead. “The bathroom is this way. The water takes like three or four minutes to get hot. I realized that I have a lot of products for some reason, but I condensed them all into this one area in the corner just in case my new roommate was a girl, and you are so that’s great. I’ll probably get a shelf.”

There was a proud quality to his voice like he felt gentlemanly for letting you have all the space you needed. For some reason, that made you feel warm and fuzzy. 

“And what if your new roommate had been a boy?” you inquired with a smirk. 

He put a finger on his chin, taking on a contemplative look for you. “Hmm. Then I guess I slowly would have moved my stuff back to the cabinet - probably just one thing per day so he wouldn’t notice. Unless he had a lot of makeup or something, then I’d just let him have it.” 

He grinned as you teasingly shook your head. 

“This way is the sleeping quarters. My room is there on the right and yours to the left.”

You stepped into your new room and let a sigh of relief. Two huge windows took up a lot of the far wall, framed underneath by large sills. The space was bright and roomier than you’d pictured. Your bed was set up in the very middle of the room, but you already knew exactly where you wanted it to go. For some reason, you had been concerned that you wouldn’t like the space, but it was kind of perfect. 

“This is great,” you breathed, turning to him and giving him a sly grin. “Wanna give me a hand moving my furniture around?”

He pretended to consider for a moment until you spoke again. 

“My mom sent money for pizza while I get stuff unpacked,” you said coyly. “If you needed any convincing.”

He laughed, showing you his teeth. “You drive a hard bargain. Okay, I’ll help as long as I get to look through your stuff while we move it.”

You gave him a questioning look, earning a one-shouldered shrug in return. He looked benign enough standing there, propped against the door frame with a goofy upturn to his lips, so you relented.  

“Deal,” you agreed.

You were positive you would not have been able to move stuff without his help. For being a slender boy, he seemed to easily be able to get things where they needed to be. He dutifully helped you shove your furniture into place - your bed against the window wall, your desk and vanity on the wall with your closet door. Then, bless his little heart, he helped you move it all again when you decided you didn’t like the arrangement (but not without some light griping). 

One by one, you brought in your boxes from the living room and you allowed him to poke through them, perched on your bed. He flipped through your books, thumbing pages of ones that piqued his interest - you could only imagine that he was already planning on borrowing some of them. He reacted similarly to your framed photos, as he unwrapped them from their packing paper.

When you got your record player set up, he put on a vinyl and started to hang your art prints on the wall where you instructed him to. The look of concentration on his face was rather endearing as he held a few nails between his teeth and hammered them into the wall, one by one. There was a time or two you were convinced that he was going to mutilate his thumb, but he didn’t, and when the last picture was hung, you breathed a sigh of relief. 

You called in a pizza, adorned with his requested toppings as you hung your clothes into your closet, your phone tucked against your ear and shoulder for maximum efficiency. 

Plants collected on your bed until there was no more room for them - after that, he started setting them on the floor as he brought them in from your car. He didn’t seem to be judging the sheer amount of them, even though he had every right to. 

“It’s going to look like a jungle in here,” he stated finally as he took a bite out of a slice of pizza that he was holding like a taco, his eyes raking over all of the foliage scattered around your room. Rather than sounding like he was teasing, his tone seemed excited. 

You grinned at him, starting to arrange them on the window sill and your bookshelf that had only ever served you as a plant shelf since you’d bought it. “Plants are my passion. Botany major,” you explained as you fluffed up your Monstera’s huge leaves. 

“Ooh.” He raised his eyebrows at you, pulling one of his legs up underneath him on your bed - now fitted with sheets. “I think that’s going to be nice. Give it some life in here.”

You grabbed another slice from the pizza box on your nightstand and tried to think of the right tone of voice to use to ask the next question. “How long have you lived here by yourself?”

He hummed, eyes flicking around distantly as he thought. “Well, I’ve lived here just over a year, and my first roommate dropped out and moved back home about...six months ago?”

“Have you been lonely? You seem like a social guy.” You gave him an empathetic look but he just shrugged at you. You hadn’t known him long enough to know for sure, but you suspected he was more affected than he was letting on. 

“I mean, a little lonely. But I got used to it for the most part.” He paused for a good couple of seconds before a smile spread across his lips. “And Penny’s kept me company.”

“Oh, does your girlfriend stay here too?” you prompted, trying to remember if you’d seen any feminine looking items lying around that weren’t yours.

“What? No,” he said under a chuckle and stood, gesturing for you to follow him across the hall. 

The second you walked through the doorway, you were met with the smell of incense sticks and linen. His room was dimmer than yours and kind of cramped with all of his mismatching furniture, but he had a huge bed - you thought it could easily fit three people in it. There were some clothes strewn about around a laundry hamper by the door and you tried to not be jealous that his closet seemed to be about twice the size of yours. 

He crossed the room to crouch in front of a coffee table that he seemed to be using as a catch-all. The varnish was worn off the top of it in rings because sitting on the coffee table was a globe of water and a calico colored goldfish swimming around aimlessly inside of it. 

“Ah, so this is Penny,” you giggled as you bent over next to him. When the fish spotted him, it rose to the surface of the water, opening its mouth in demand for food.

He grinned down at it. “Light of my life. We’re not allowed to have pets but I figured that a fish didn’t count.”

You hummed, admittedly a bit charmed by the whole situation. “But don’t goldfish require a lot of space?”

The smile fell from his face, adopting a level of concern you hadn’t yet seen from him as he peered over at you. “Do they?”

Immediately, you felt guilty for putting that look on his features. Your brain kick-started - trying to think of a way to make it right again. “I think so? Maybe we can find her a small tank? Put a few little plants in there for her?”

Josh nodded at you, stroking his fingers over the glass with a frown. “I’m a bad dad.”

“No, no!” you assured, putting your hand on his head but then removing it instantly when you realized that you didn’t really know him, he’d just already made you feel like you did. Either way, you figured it would be inappropriate to touch him. “You’re great. She looks really happy.”

“She’s great at begging for food, so don’t get tricked,” Josh instructed after a moment, seemingly able to put his concerns aside to jest you.

You nodded in agreement. “I’ll be ever vigilant,” you promised, making him smile again. 

He stood back up, so you did as well. 

“Well, I’ll give you some time to get comfortable in your room,” Josh said, sitting back on his bed. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?” 

“I promise I will,” you assured, tapping your hand on the doorframe on your way out. 

By the time the sun was set, your room was shockingly well put together. The emotional rollercoaster that was the album Rumors helped you keep on task, losing yourself in the music so it didn’t feel like work at all. You hadn’t been expecting it to come along so quickly, but you guessed that was because you hadn’t anticipated such a friendly roommate. The nesting had always been your favorite part, so you took your time to enjoy placing out all your knick-knacks and photos. 

You took a break to shower when you decided you were done for the day, reveling in the feeling of the water after such a long time in your car - He was absolutely right about how long it took to warm up from ice cold. When you got out and changed into your pajamas, Josh was sitting in the living room with a laptop across his legs. 

“You wanna chill?” he asked when he heard you padding down the hall, shutting the lid of it and setting it on a side table. “Or if you’re too tired, that’s okay too.”

“No, no. I’d love to talk.” You sat next to him, leaving a comfortable amount of room between you as you pulled your knees up to your chin. “Tell me more about yourself,” you requested, tugging a blanket from a beat-up wicker basket on the floor and wrapping it around your body.

“Hmm, okay,” he started. You wondered how long it had been since he had to introduce himself to someone new. “I’m from a tiny little town here in Michigan. I’m the oldest of four - two brothers and a sister. My brother, Jake, also attends MU and lives just off campus.”

You frowned at him. “Wait, why wouldn’t he live with you?” you asked through a disbelieving laugh. 

“He lived with me long enough,” Josh explained in a humored tone. “There are only so many people where I’m from and well - we wanted to meet new people, you know?” 

“I guess I should be grateful for that.” 

“Yeah, probably,” he teased and then paused to think. “I’m in performing arts - I’m actually putting on a production around Christmas with some elementary school kids.”

You suppressed the aww that was threatening to pass your lips. “You like kids?”

He beamed you a smile, shaking his head. “Love them. I want to have like ten of them someday.”

The thought of him surrounded by kids made you soften. You were genuinely shocked about how easy he was to talk to - how easy he was to like. You had never thought in a million years you’d get along with your roommate so well, let alone the first day meeting them. 

“I hope you get to,” you said as genuinely as you could muster, prompting him to give you a grateful smile. 

A yawn escaped you before you could hide it, and you quickly breathed an apology, but he just waved you off. 

“You must be exhausted from that drive,” he said, his voice soft. “You should get some sleep.”

You nodded in agreement and gave him a thankful smile. “Is it okay if I sleep out here?”

The look on his face was quizzical, forcing a laugh from you. “Why would you do that?” 

“I have this tradition where whenever I’m in a new place, I always sleep in the living room on the first night. It’s good luck.”   

“Whatever you say.” His lips pulled back into an unconvinced smirk. “Well, yeah, you live here now too, so you can sleep wherever you’d like.”

He disappeared into his room for only a moment before popping his head back out, fingers wrapped around the door frame.

 “Do you mind if I join you?” 

You tried not to look too taken aback by the question, but you could feel your cheeks flushing warm. You raked your eyes along the couch, entirely positive that there wasn’t enough space for the two of you to lay out on it together fully - at least, not without being pressed flush against one another. However, his face looked innocent and soft - not a single tint of mischief colored across his features.

“Yeah, that-. I guess that’s okay,” you agreed sheepishly with a shrug. “But I’m not sure we’ll both fit if I’m being honest.”

He frowned questioningly at you, his brows lacing together until he realized what you thought he meant. His face instantly turned a light shade of pink to match yours. “No, no,” he quickly assured in between a breathy laugh. “I’m not going to sleep with you - I’ll take the recliner.” 

“Oh, right.” You gave a nervous laugh of your own, cursing yourself out in your head for being so dull. 

You were still well embarrassed as you made a nest of blankets on the couch and he brought out a pillow for you when you realized yours were still tucked deep in your bag of bedding. When each of you was situated on your respective pieces of furniture, he flicked the light off with a comfortable sigh. 

It was silent for a moment before he spoke again, his voice taking on a tone that was far too smug for your liking. “You were awfully quick to agree to sleep next to me. You don’t have a crush on me, do you?” 

You knew he was teasing, but your heart rate still managed to pick up under the pressure. You had never been particularly good with awkward social situations; you rolled your eyes in the dark, thankful he couldn’t see how red you were. “No, Josh. I do not have a crush on you.”

“Okay,” he said through a melodic laugh, and you got the feeling that he’d gotten the reaction he was aiming for from you. “Should we be best friends though?”

You snorted a laugh of your own, wanting to be annoyed at how likable he was, but falling short. “You are the most peculiar person I’ve ever met, I think.” You curled up, clutching your blanket tight to your body. “But yes. We can be friends.”

“Okay, cool - I’ll order matching t-shirts for us.” You could hear the pleased grin he was wearing, making you feel warm and cozy. You pulled the worn blanket up to your chin.

“See to it that you do.” 

Author’s Note: okay, I hope you guys like it! please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list or removed from it. I’m using the same taglist from my Jake!fic, so no hard feelings if you don’t want to be tagged!

[bwbatta]

four - believable

Abstract: Draco and you are just friends so doing him a favour and pretending to be his girlfriend wouldn’t effect your friendship right?

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

Warnings: this is super fluffy beware

Word count: 3944

A/N: well, I’m back and BOY do I have a good one for you! Christmasy vibes are at 100% as I’m struggling to believe Christmas has actually been and gone, hopefully this will fulfil your Christmas Draco cravings! 

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 3

If you thought people gossiped too much about the rumour of Draco and you being in a relationship before it was even confirmed, the gossip that was instigated from your kiss in the middle of the Great Hall was on another level.

No one said it to your face but everyone thought the chemistry between the two of you surely couldn’t have been faked.

Little did they know though, right?!

Whispers died down after a couple weeks of seeing the two of you walk around holding hands or with Draco’s arm over your shoulder pulling you close in his grip.

In fact the two of you touching in some way became such a constant that it almost felt odd when his hand wasn’t resting on your leg while you were together.

The one thing that wasn’t so weird to come from the game you two had going on, was how Pansy had dialled down her desperate attempts to seduce the blonde Malfoy heir.

Sure she still tried when you weren’t around, but it was a lot less than before and all her attempts were rebuffed and ignored by Draco.

After about a month, her attempts had dwindled and come to a halt.

Not that the two of you noticed that much.

You both had to admit, you enjoyed how things were with each other right now, not that you’d tell the other.

“Hey Sweetheart”

Broken out of your thoughts you looked up to see the familiar blonde approaching you with a grin on his face.

The two of you saw each other earlier that day for breakfast and then later for Potions, but since you both chose different courses, you didn’t have the time to cross paths again until later that evening.

You had been flicking through an astronomy textbook, attempting to finally finish your essay in the Library. Christmas was fast approaching which meant so were final deadlines for the term. Mostly you were fine with the workload you had, thanks to a specific muggleborn Gryffindor who had kept you on track, yet astronomy was kicking your arse.

As hard as you tried, you couldn’t tell your constellations apart from your galaxies.

“Hi” you sighed in reply causing the boy to frown

“That doesn’t sound very happy”

“That’s because this Astronomy essay is making me want to knock myself out with a telescope” you rested your head on your arms dejectedly. “It would be less painful.”

Draco didn’t stop the snort escaping his lips as he rolled his eyes at your dramatics and grabbed your excuse of an essay. With a snicker he shot you an amused look at the last line you’d written on the parchment, aka when you’d really given up all hope.

“’The Sirius constellation looks like a dog but you can’t really tell which breed’?! You’re honestly going to give this in?!” he laughed 

“You can’t tell though!”

“Well first, Sirius is a star not a constellation and second the constellation it’s in is obviously a terrier.”

“How helpful” 

His grey eyes shot you an amused look before gathering up your books and papers and put them away in your bag. Grabbing your hand he pulled you up and out of the Library which you groaned at, complaining you needed to finish your essay.

“I know” he just responded, pulling you close to him by your hands before detaching them and dropping his arm around your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your forehead in the process as he saw a gaggle of Ravenclaws pass you on their way to the Library. “Let’s grab some dinner and then I’ll help you with your essay.”

The kitchens weren’t as busy as usual as dinner was already happening, but still busy enough to have three house elves approach the two of you asking what they could get you.

“Two plates of roast beef, one with extra roast potatoes, the other with extra yorkshire puddings.”

Immediately your stomach growled at the thought of the food to your embarrassment. You really hadn’t realised how hungry you’d gotten.

Almost in no time at all, two steaming hot plates of food were given to you and the two of you made your way to the astronomy tower, taking a seat on the floor so you could take in the view of the setting sun.

“Why are we here? I thought we’d go back to the Library or common room to finish the essay?”

“How else am I gonna teach you the constellations if you can’t see them?!”

You were taken aback a little.

“You’re teaching me by pointing them out? How do you know astronomy?”

“The entirety of my family are named after stars and constellations on my mother’s side. It was something I just knew growing up because she taught me from when I was young.”

“So there’s a star called Draco?”

“A constellation actually” he mused, “it’s suppose to look like a dragon.”

“Suppose to?”

“Looks more like a snake if I’m honest”

The subject changed over dinner to other things you’d each thought of or heard throughout the day, when you hadn’t seen each other. Apparently the head boy and head girl had been caught by McGonagall in a broom closet getting frisky.

There had also been a fight which had broken out in the Herbology greenhouses which resulted in a mandrake pot being shattered and everyone fainting because of the screams from the young plant.

The real highlight of the day however, was the rumour of the Ancient Runes professor showing an interest in one of the sixth year Hufflepuffs.

“Contrary to popular belief, those Hufflepuffs aren’t as innocent as everyone might be led to believe” Draco snickered as you slapped his arm jokingly.

“I can’t believe a professor here would do that thought!”

“We’ve had worse teachers, lets be honest” he laughed. “Lets recall our last five years shall we?!”

“First one was killed by Harry after having You-Know-Who on the back of his head, the second was a complete moron and obliviated himself- one was a werewolf! Then lets not forget the disguised death eater and then finally this year we’ve been delighted to have the pink toad as a teacher.” 

“I feel like we’ve really lucked out if I’m honest” Draco snorted as you snickered at the humoured sarcasm you shared.

A cold breeze shifted through the open tower when the sun finally set, causing you to shiver involuntarily. Deciding to only wear a thin jumper, forgoing your robes whilst you studied earlier may not have been the smartest idea once the two of you decided to eat at that destination.

Draco noticed and immediately leaned back against the wall, holding his arms out to you.

“Come here”

With a shuffle, you were under his arm, pressed against him as you settled into his side, his body heat being a welcoming factor.

“Merlin, you’re freezing” he frowned pulling you closer before conjuring up an emerald green blanket.

“Winter doesn’t really agree with me,” you joked “now tell me about these bloody constellations.”

“Well you’ve got the northern constellations and the southern ones. The northern include some such as Andromeda, Cassiopeia, Lyra and Pegasus. The southern have ones like Ara, Orion, and Canis’ Major and Minor.”

“Which one is Draco in?”

“Northern” he grinned down at you as you reciprocated his smile. “You then also have the zodiac constellations which are the 12 most commonly known ones.”

“Like Sagittarius, Aquarius and all that?”

“Yep. Within all those constellations, you’ve then got your stars.” 

The blonde boy explained the basics of the stars to you almost effortlessly as your gaze flicked back and forth from him to the sky, when he pointed out which section he was talking about.

He talked non stop about the stars and you couldn’t help but admire the Slytherin as he spoke of the subject. Draco wasn’t arrogantly top of the class like Hermione was, but he was in no way lacking in knowledge when it came to subjects he knew about like it was second nature.

Time passed you both by like the cool breeze that surrounded you, and before you knew it, hours had passed just being in each others company as he easily gave you enough clarity to finish off your essay, without even having to resort to drastic measures.

You also learnt so much more than any astronomy professor had taught you in all your years at Hogwarts.

Maybe that was just because they weren’t as captivating as the blonde beside you.

You wouldn’t say it out loud, but you knew exactly what your favourite constellation was after that evening, and it just so happened to look like a dragon.

Christmas drew closer and Draco was adamant on sticking to his side of the deal, so with a sigh he set off to Hogsmeade in search of the extensive list of Christmas gifts he had promised to get you. 

He had to appear like the perfect boyfriend after all.

Something was nagging at him though and it was constantly circling his mind as he trudged down in the frost to the village. 

It had been that evening when the two of you were in the astronomy tower and he was teaching you about the stars, when it had happened.

In the midst of his talking, he pointed out the Orion constellation before glancing down at you and pausing a second to catch his breath, not because he was chatting too much, but because in the vivid light of the moon, you were ethereal. 

He had whole heartedly planned to carry on talking, but the sight of you, curled up against him, with the moonlight highlighting your features, his breath was stolen from him. 

Almost in a trance he brushed the back of his fingers against your cheekbone causing you to snap your gaze to him, eyes wide at the delicate gesture.

Your wide eyes shocked him out of his state and immediately he paused awkwardly, racking his brain for some kind of excuse.

“Um... eyelash” he murmured, grey eyes not breaking from your own.

“...thanks.”

His mind was screaming at him to just carry on talking, yet no words came out of his mouth. 

Instead, almost like his body had a mind of it’s own, his fingers continued to move to brush away the lock of hair which had fallen out of it’s place.

Finally gaining control of his actions again, he dropped his hand and pulled you closer to him, effectively breaking your line of sight. Draco began to talk about Orion again but his mind wasn’t 100% paying attention to the facts that came out his mouth.

What the hell was that?

Shaking those questions from his head, he pressed his lips to your temple and continued his rambling about stars.

It had been quick, fleeting, but Draco hadn’t missed it and he really hoped you had. The affection which was suppose to be scripted for everyone else’s belief had reared it’s head like it was second nature to the pair. 

You hadn’t said anything or brought it up so Draco definitely wasn’t going to. 

He agreed with himself it was probably best left unspoken about. It was a slip up, something which felt right to do at the time but it wouldn’t happen again.

Attempting to convince himself, he muttered about how you probably didn’t even notice. It was nothing. 

After all, whatever was happening affectionately between the two of you wasn’t real.

In short, you’d noticed. 

Draco showing you affection was nothing new, yet Draco showing it when no one else was around, okay, that was new.

The kiss he left on your temple could of course be in a friendly manner, right? The brush against your cheek? The way he looked at you?

Friends are affectionate to each other, it was probably nothing more than a friendly endearment. Like a hug.

So why did it feel like there was so much more unsaid?

With a groan of annoyance, you shut it from your mind. There was no use in overthinking something as small as a simple affection. You were smarter than that. 

The truth was, the two of you were so hellbent on making everyone around you believe you were in a relationship, you failed to noticed how neither of you denied how believable it was to each other.

Your stomach grumbled loudly, catching the attention of the witch opposite you who eyed you with annoyance.

“Are you just going to sit there, starve yourself and annoy me, or are you going to get some food and leave so I can work in peace?”

“Merlin, Hermione, it’s almost like you don’t want me around.”

“I don’t when you’re distracting me”

“Charming as ever, I see”

With a huff, the bookworm turned her attention back to her books.

Completely bored with your homework, you fidgeted with your quill between your fingers.

“Hey, Hermione? Are you going home for Christmas?”

“You couldn’t ask me this later?” she sighed as she paused in her writing and shot you an irritated look. At the shake of your head, she rolled her eyes. “Yes, My family and I are planning on going skiing again. Are you heading back?”

“Not this year, my parents are off visiting my cousins in America so I said I’d stay at Hogwarts.”

“You’re staying here for Christmas?”

A new voice entered your conversation from behind you and at the look of Hermione’s scowl, you knew immediately it was your blonde boyfriend.

Turning in your seat, you greeted him with a smile. Pecking a kiss to your lips, more for Hermione’s purpose than your own, he took the seat next to you, placing his own stack of books on the table next to you.

“Yeah, like I said, parents are going to America, it’s just easier if I stay.”

“Not many others are planning on staying though, not even the Weasleys” Draco frowned.

You shrugged at his insinuation, knowing exactly what he was getting at.

“I’ll be fine, might actually get some peace and quiet to be honest.”

He didn’t look convinced. 

“I’ll write to my parents and tell them I’m staying for Christmas”

“Draco-”

“Nope, I’m not going to let you spend Christmas alone,” he was adamant, “Can I borrow a piece of parchment, I’ll write to them now.”

“Go ahead, I’m not using it” you replied which earned you an exasperated look from the Gryffindor opposite you, which you ignored.

Hermione took the time to observe the two of you and how effortlessly you interacted around each other. It was like a cleverly choreographed piece.

You looked down at your work, Draco looked up at you. Draco looked down at the letter he was now writing, you looked up at Draco. You rested your hand on his arm when you were talking, he leans into your touch.

The Granger witch couldn’t help but almost admire the chemistry between the two of you and how easy it seemed it was to be with the other. Sure, she had doubts at the very start when you’d just begun dating, yet getting a front row seat to seeing the two of you bounce off each other, Hermione Granger believed wholeheartedly the two of you loved each other. 

Even if you didn’t know it yourselves yet.

Draco had followed through with his promise and as it seemed every other student had journeyed down to the train a couple days ago. The two of you were sat happily in the Astronomy tower, basking in the silence of the castle and embracing how relaxing it was. 

Since the first time the two of you had sat around the tower before, it seemed like this was the place you both chose to come every time when it was just the two of you. 

Neither of you had brought up the small affection from the previous time, but acting like it didn’t happen seemed like it was working for the two of you.

“What’s the best Christmas gift you’ve ever gotten?” Draco asked you after a few moments of silence.

You had to think for a moment before a grin rapidly grew across your face at the exact present you knew you loved. 

“Snitch socks,” you chuckled “I was given a pair by my grandma when I was like 10 or something and they were the fluffiest, comfiest pair of socks I ever owned where there was a little charm with made the snitches fly around the design. They must’ve cost a knut or something as they fell apart after I only wore them for a few days! Young me was so heartbroken about her socks, she cried for three days!”

“You cried over socks?!”

“The best socks! I don’t think I’ve even known real joy since”

Draco snorted out a laugh into your hair as he wrapped an arm round your shoulders.

“That’s so stupid”

“Don’t be such a jerk, I was 10” you scowled at him playfully “besides, my grandma passed away a couple years later and I have no idea where she got them, so I’ve made my peace with it.”

“Would you still wear them now if you got another pair?”

“Oh 100%, but either way, like I said, I’ve made my peace with it.” You shrugged nonchalantly before turning to the boy next to you, “go on then, what’s been your favourite Christmas present ever?!”

“A pocket watch” he grinned reaching into his pocket and pulling one out, passing it over to you to look at. “It’s a Black family heirloom - my Mother’s side of the family, and it’s suppose to keep you on time for everything. It used to belong to one of my great uncles or someone but I’ve never been late to anything when I have this on me.”

“Really?” you asked sceptically 

“Really”

“What about that time you were late to potions?!”

“Left it in my dorm accidentally. Actually that whole day was kind of a disaster. Bloody Pansy and her love potion.”

You snorted as you admired the watch and flipped it over in your palm to examine the back. Cursive words were engraved in the back in another language- probably latin, which had something to do with keeping the owner on time, all the time.  

It was silver and about the size of a large golf ball in diameter, yet surprisingly light as you played with it between your fingers. 

“It’s pretty”

Draco hummed in agreement as he watched you trace the intricate details with your fingers before smiling and handing it back to him. With a fond look at the watch, then you, he slipped it back into his pocket.

“I just pray I don’t lose it, wouldn’t hear the end of it from my Mother”

“For good reason probably” you snorted, “if it’s a family heirloom it probably means a lot to her.”

Draco hummed once again and pinned his warm gaze on you. He wouldn’t say it out loud but he rarely let the things that meant a lot to him out of his sight.

“God rest ye merry hippogriffs-”

“I’m begging you to stop”

“-ye are A BIRD OF PREY!”

“Y/N-”

“We come in all our splendour, to lead ye ast--”

A hand covered your mouth as you laughed heavily at Draco’s attempt to quieten your singing. You had purposefully tried to make it the worst edition of the Christmas carol possible to annoy the blonde that Christmas morning, yet you hadn’t planned on being tackled into the Slytherin sofa as an attempt to be shut up.

“Did you just lick my hand?!”

You shook your head innocently, not fooling Draco for a second. 

The two of you had gathered in the Slytherin common room, as most of the house had gone back for the holiday.

Only a couple of students remained, but after the wizard had glared at the couple of second years, they scattered somewhere else for the time being.

“Okay, presents!”

You almost dived under the tree as you caught sight of a carefully wrapped gift with your name on it. However, finding the label attached to a rather large bundle of Honeydukes chocolates, the smile you shot Draco was almost blinding.

“You did get me the chocolates!!”

“I promised, didn’t it?!”

Draco watched you with a fond grin as you rifled through the basket picking out a couple of chocolate frogs and chucked one to him. He caught the small packet quickly, thanking his seeker reflexes as he did, and looked at you questioningly.

“What, you didn’t think I’d be able to get through all these myself?! Plus I know chocolate frogs are your favourite.”

Draco felt his smile grow wider.

“I got something for you too” you matched his smile

“You did?”

“Of course!”

Pulling out a long rectangular box from under the tree, he kneeled down next to you as he pushed it along the floor so it wasn’t obstructed by anything.With a wary look towards you, he paused slightly.

“It’s not anything that will bite, right?”

“Oh shut up, of course not, now open it!”

With a roll of his eyes, the Malfoy ripped off the wrapping paper and pried open the cardboard box to see the broom he had been envying Harry Potter over for the last year.

“You got me a Firebolt?!”

“Couldn’t have you whining about Harry’s broom any longer, could I?!”

“Merlin, Y/N! This is fantastic, thank you!” He grinned at you before his eyes snapped to the tree and back. “There’s some other things for you still under the tree.” 

It was your turn to pin him with a questioning look, eyebrows pulled together in a frown. 

Turning back to the tree, you pulled up a few branches and spotted another large box at the back. With great effort, to which the Malfoy just found great entertainment in, you managed to retrieve the box. Pulling open the top flap, the boots and jacket he had also promised you, sat inside.

With a laugh you pulled the boots out first and then the jacket, before spotting a smaller bundle at the bottom. Reaching in, your fingers came in contact with something soft which you pulled out, only to gasp at what it was.

A pair of fluffy green socks sat in your hand as golden snitches whizzed round the design. Not being able to find your words, you looked up at Draco with the softest look you were sure you’d ever looked at him with. 

“Draco... you got me snitch socks?!”

“I may have mentioned about the socks to my Mother and she just so happened to know where they were sold. I picked the green ones because I couldn’t have you wearing red ones now, could I?”

“Merlin, they’re perfect! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Pretty much launching yourself at him, you pulled Draco into a warm hug, arms around his neck, as he instinctively wrapped his own arms around your waist in return. 

“You are the best boyfriend ever, oh Merlin!”

“If I knew it was this easy to please you, I would’ve bought you them ages ago” he snickered.

You pulled away, only to move to put the socks on as you chatted non stop about how great they were, and in turn, how great he was. Seeing your entire face light up because of a pair of socks made Draco smile even more. 

Again, he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but seeing that smile on your face, which he had 100% been responsible for, made his entire Christmas so much better.

[hageny]

Succession Thoughts: Gerri x Roman

1. “Hey Shiv”.

At the beginning of Vaulter the team is discussing how best to deal with Stewey’s public attacks against Logan and the charges that he’s making about Logan’s ability to run Waystar. Gerri speaks up and suggests that laying low and not firing off a response right away is the best course of action to avoid looking rattled; Shiv disagrees--”So let Stewy sway all the shareholders while dad sits there with a thumb up his ass?”-- at which point Roman looks at Shiv and shoots back, “Hey Shiv”. What he says is not anything significant on the surface, but in reality it serves to highlight what will become important later in the season: that Roman is very uncomfortable with people attacking Gerri in any way and won’t hesitate to stand up for her, in the same way she’s done for him in the past.

2. Upstairs. 

When Roman goes to visit Gerri’s room in Argestes, he does something that is subtle but perhaps foreshadows the course of their relationship in the future. As he comes in the door he briefly peers upstairs, presumably to where Gerri’s bedroom is. This is significant because 1) Roman has obvious intimacy issues and 2) it serves as another reminder of the way in which Roman sees Gerri, which is different from how he views his girlfriends. Tabitha, for instance, is propped up like arm candy, usually seen at events or in public settings, whereas Gerri is often seen alone with Roman, and depicted in a more sensuous, sexualized way. This is not so much solely for audience interest as it is a look at Gerri through Roman’s eyes, who has an interest in her that he (almost) never displays toward the other women he dates. Even the girlfriend preceding Tabitha, who gives her number to the waiter at the gala in Sad Sack Wasp Trap, is only interesting to Roman when she gives someone else her number, and then it’s not so much that he’s interested in her but in punishing the other guy. Her character disappears soon after, while Roman’s interest in Gerri grows.

3. Vaulter.

When Logan gathers Roman and Kendall together to discuss the fate of Vaulter, the camera pans in on Gerri’s face twice, once while she’s listening to Kendall’s pitch, and once while listening to Roman’s. It’s obvious from her reactions that she is impressed with both the effort and thought Roman has put into his decision, especially when he mentions he took the staffers out and suckered them into providing information to him. This demonstrates two things about Roman that Gerri sees that no one else cares to recognize: when pushed, he is more than capable of doing a good job, and he has the people skills and tenacity to go places that Kendall does not, something that Gerri also possesses. As the audience, we’re supposed to notice now what becomes important as their relationship evolves, namely that Roman desires Gerri because of the way she views him, and who she can help him become--someone he is unable to be on his own without guidance and reassurance, so lacking in his childhood.

4. Belief. 

Later in Vaulter, Roman is talking to Tabitha about how his father has taken his advice about what to do with the company. Still somewhat shocked, he tells her that perhaps he is intelligent and capable--”Maybe I’m smart”--to which she replies, “Sure. Maybe. You did a thing. Mazel tov.”. This highlights an essential aspect of Roman’s personality: that he is looking for belief and approval from those around him in his abilities, and is repeatedly denied it. This part of his nature stretches back into his childhood, which is touched on Prague. Roman recounts the ‘dog cage’ story, and on the surface it’s just another anecdote that highlights the absurdity of the Roy children’s upbringing, but what Connor remembers is the most important part of the story: that Roman asked to be put in the cage in the same way he asked to be sent off to military school. Roman remembers things differently, that Kendall forced him into the cage, put a leash on his neck, fed him dog food to bully him, and that he (Roman) was sent away when he “cracked”. It’s noted that the cage was at his mother’s house, which is presumably where the game took place. This could be an unimportant detail, or could be interpreted to mean that not even in his mother’s home--which could be symbolically read as a ‘womb’ of sorts--was Roman safe. She presumably did nothing to stop the game, and the siblings all took part. What the truth of the circumstances were is hard to deduce. Did Roman really want to go in the cage, or was he forced to and then sent off to St. Andrews because he lost it? Maybe it makes no difference. What is the line between self-flagellation and whipping by another? In Roman’s case, there is none. Whether he entered the cage of his own volition or was forced in, the fact is the act of him ending up inside of it is indicative of his families’ attitude toward him: that he is like a pet, small, fun, but ultimately useless. From his earliest years Roman has believed that he is useless, has been treated as such by everyone around him, and is still viewed in this way by his girlfriend, where the theme loops back around in his life. One could even find in this story an allusion to Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, wherein Plato recounts a group of people chained to a wall; these people watch shadows projected on the wall in front of them from objects passing in front of a fire behind them and believe this is reality. It isn’t, of course, but because of their chains they cannot leave and don’t know the difference. For so long, Roman has been chained in his own way, and his reality--his lack of self-belief--is the shadow darting on the wall in front of him, created by the people who should have nurtured him. Only Gerri ever breaks the chain, by believing that he can accomplish whatever he sets his mind to.