#something terrible) so if that is a problem for u . you should probably not follow (i mean this rly gently and genuinely)

[c-kiddo]

Would you mind tagging your Essek hate so Essek fans can filter it?

respect and peace and love but i dont rly want to do that

[swordsandholly]

Across the Way

Chapter 4: New and Old Problems Alike

Retired!Ghoap x Fem!Fat!Reader

Ao3 | Previous - Next | Masterlist

MDNI | cw: fainting, some medical inaccuracies

Word Count: 5.8k

Summary: You go to Scotland with high hopes for your future. After all, you have the bakery you always dreamed of and a whole new life to live. Plus, the men who own the butcher’s shop across the street seem nice.

You haven’t texted them, even three days later. That little sticky note haunts the surface of your kitchen counter. It taunts you - tells you that you should text them and at least give them your number. That you’re being a terrible neighbor. They might need you too, after all. Even though you can’t figure out why they might for the life of you. On the other hand, you can’t help but feel wary about it. Men don’t take an interest in you - people in general rarely take interest. It’s hard not to feel suspicious, as pure as you’re sure their intentions probably are.

More so than any of that, you don’t know what to say. If it had been day one you could have just put your name, but now you feel like you need to explain. Or at least be funny or something. Tossing and turning on your designated rest day about what the hell you should do.

You’re overthinking it. You know that. You can’t stop, either.

They just seem so cool - so put together. So unlike you. You want to impress them. You don’t want to ruin the first possibility of friends in this new life you’re building for yourself.

Eventually you work up the courage to send off an initial text to each of them. Just to give them your name to save if they so choose - plus an extra thank you to Simon for giving you their numbers in the first place. Something simple and borderline cold. Too cold, maybe? Maybe you sound irritated. You hope not. You just want them to like you. Friends in new places are hard and to have someone around you who gets how it feels to need accommodations would just feel so… lovely. Your phone may or may not go flying onto your bed while you bury your face in your hands out of sheer nervousness.

You don’t expect it to chime about a minute later. Right as you’re staring to calm down, of course. It sends your heart violently pounding all over again.

J >> Bonnie lass!

J >> So glad u texted!!

>> Sorry it took so long lol

Oh, you could just slap yourself. You don’t have anything better than that? At all? Christ.

J >> Nah Nah

J >> No worries

J >> Actually I was wondering if u would mind if I came by tomorrow

J >> Just to chat

J >> need an excuse to get out of the house

“How the hell does he type that fast?” You scoff to yourself.

>> Yeah, come by anytime.

>> totally

>> yea sounds cool

>> rad, man

A message from Simon pops up mid your internal battle with how to respond, replying with a simple thumbs up. Very in character, you think. He knows how to be nonchalant. What would Simon say? Something casual, maybe a little formal.

>> If you like. You’re always welcome.

Okay maybe that was too much like Simon. You sigh heavily m before adding,

>> I’m trying out a new blueberry loaf

>> If you want to test for me :)

Better. That’s a little better. With another heavy sigh you decide to drop your phone into your nightstand for the rest of the day. Your heart really cannot handle this much emotional pressure.

~~~

You sort of end up just forgetting about the texts. With your phone out of sight and out of mind upstairs in your apartment it almost catches you off guard when Johnny comes striding through the door just before close. He’s dressed more casually than the last couple of times you saw him - having broken out the summer shorts and a graphic tee for some band you don’t recognize. It suits him, though.

“Hey, bon.” He grins.

“Hey.” You smile back, finishing with putting up your stocking baskets before dusting off your hands and turning around. “Simon closing up?”

“Aye.”

You hum. “Come on back, I’ll get you a slice of that loaf I mentioned.”

Johnny follows you quietly. Uncharacteristically quietly. That’s okay - you don’t have a problem with hanging out in silence. It doesn’t feel tense, surprisingly enough. He leaves Riley out front again. Should you get her a dog bed? Maybe if he comes by consistently. That would be nice. Maybe that’s wishful thinking.

“It’s sort of a pound cake but fluffier. I might make an icing for it but I don’t know if that would be too sweet…” You trail off, focusing on plating up the piece. You’re not sure what compels you to try and make it pretty for him. Probably something you could blame on your grandmother. She did have an obsession with presentation.

Johnny hums loudly after taking a bite, talking around the mouthful. “Y’should totally make an icing.” He swallows roughly. “Si would go crazy fer this.”

“Oh?” You smile. “I’ll send some home with you.”

There’s a lapse of silence while Johnny chews on his slice of bread and you pack up some in a paper bag for him to take home. The only sounds in the room comprised of your cutting and folding and the hum of the cooling oven.

“You’re being weirdly quiet.” You blurt, immediately covering your mouth with your hand. “I, uh, I mean that isn’t a bad thing! I don’t mind… I just, uh, was… sorry, never mind…”

“Well I did come wit’ a bit of an ulterior motive…” Johnny admits, glancing off to the side shyly. It’s a show, you think. Johnny doesn’t seem the type of man to have felt shy a day in his life.

You tilt your head. “Oh?”

He dusts off his hands and grins. “Let us take ye out! In celebration of yer first full month.”

Has it been a month already? “Oh - no, no you don’t have to-“

“C’mon! It’s a big accomplishment.” His smile is so bright that you almost believe his idea that you’ve done something great.

“…alright.” You give a tentative smile. It’s hard to believe they like you enough to want to hang out casually in the evening. Hard to imagine anyone liking you that much but you’re not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“There’s a pub down the street - the one on the corner. Want tae meet us there around six?” Johnny gives you that lovely smile. How could you ever say no to a smile like that?

“Okay.”

You spend far too long changing in and out of clothes and fussing with your hair. Up-do’s and buns and braids. A tank top then a sweater then a t-shirt. There’s no reason to feel this stressed over it. It’s not a date or anything. Besides, it doesn’t seem to make a difference. Either way you look like a frumpy dumpling. Eventually you land on jeans and one of your designated ‘going out tops.’ At least it’s a good excuse to wear something other than work clothes or loungewear.

Excitement and anxiety thrum under your skin like electricity as you make your way down the street. You feel painfully nauseous - stopping once or twice just to make sure you aren’t about to throw up for real.

The pub is surprisingly quiet when you enter. Obviously somewhere only real locals hang out - there’s no theme or really any decor in general. Just a bar, some booths and a couple pool tables. You scan the floor a few times, not seeing either Johnny or Simon (not that they would be hard to miss). Eventually you just grab a soda from the bar and slide into one of the booths closer to the back. A quiet spot facing the door where you can easily watch for them.

As time ticks on you begin to grow increasingly nervous. Did you get the time wrong? No, no you triple checked. You even wrote it down in your planner. Your leg begins to bounce furiously, heart nearly beating out of your chest. Did they decide to ditch? You wouldn’t really blame them. They’re way out of your league when it comes to friends. Maybe Johnny had an emergency? Should you call Simon? If he had an emergency it would make sense that they would forget to notice you. What if something really bad happened? What if-

The front door opens and Simon’s wide frame strides through, holding the door for Johnny and Riley to come in behind him. You let out a quiet sigh of relief, willing your leg to stop bouncing with a pinch to your thigh. Why are you always so damn dramatic?

Johnny lights up with an ear to ear grin when he spots you, bee-lining for the booth while Simon casually walks up to the bar. It’s almost comedic, the way he dwarfs the counter. Johnny leans on the side of the booth, waiting for Simon, you think.

“Glad ye could come out.” He looks you over, eyes flicking from your plain top to the very practical, not at all stylish up do that you landed on for the evening.

You do your best not to squirm under his gaze. “Me too…”

Simon comes back with two beers in hand and slides them onto the table. He scoots into the inner booth to give Johnny the outer edge. Riley happily sits beside his leg and practically grins at you in a near mirror image of Johnny’s. You’d never do it while she’s on the job, of course, but part of you wants to give her a pat on the head and coo at her for being so polite.

Johnny gives you an apologetic smile. “Sorry we were a bit late-”

“Johnny redid his hair about five times.” Simon butts in, not reacting at all to Johnny’s sputtering protest. He glances at your half-drunk soda. “Want me t’ grab you a beer?”

“Oh, no, I’ll just stick to coke.”

They blink at you. Simon cocks his head slightly. “You sure?”

You chew your lip. “Uh, alcohol tends to aggravate my symptoms is all...”

“Then why’d ye agree to drinks? We coulda gone somewhere else.” Johnny frowns.

You shrug. “I don’t mind. I… maybe this is over sharing but I’d rather go out and be kind of normal than just… not ever. Y’know?”

His expression softens. For having such icy blue eyes they are so, so warm. “I get it.”

“How’d you two meet anyway?” You blurt, taking a left turn to get the conversation off of you. It’s the first question that comes to mind. Maybe it’s rude - maybe you’re prying too much already.

“Military.” Simon grunts. “SAS.”

“Si retired wit’ me after I was discharged.” Johnny points to his scar the same way he did when you first met. “Russians scrambled my egg a bit.”

“Couldn’t do the time apart…” Simon murmurs, eyes locked on Johnny’s face. It’s vulnerable. More than he’s used to - you can see it in the way he tenses after saying it.

Something passes between them that a deep, wounded part of you desperately wishes to understand.

You can’t help but start giggling to yourself. They both give you an incredulous look. “Sorry, sorry - it’s just, that’s like… totally a romance book premise. It’s sweet. Really.”

“Och, aye. Wouldn’t know it t’ look at him but Si’s a real romantic.” Johnny bats his eyes at the other man, who just rolls his in response. The corner of his scarred mouth quirks up subtly.

“SAS…” You repeat, staring at your drink. “That’s like Navy Seal shit, right?”

“We worked with them a few times, yes.” Simon nods. There’s an air of ‘do not ask anything more specific’ in his voice.

“Huh.” You take that for what it is and sit back, squinting at them. “You don’t look it, honestly.”

Johnny laughs. “Tha’s just cause ye havennae seen Simon with his gear on. The Ghost.” He wiggles his fingers along as he makes a stupid, spooky sound effect. “I domesticated him.”

Simon scoffs but doesn’t deny it, just takes a quiet sip of his beer.

“Riley’s a vet, too.” Johnny pats her head. “Got too skittish around loud noises but she transitioned into a service dog nicely.”

“Now she’s just spoiled.” Simon rolls his eyes in faux annoyance. You get the strong feeling that he’s the one doing the spoiling.

You find yourself relaxing as the night goes on. Slouching in your seat rather than sitting ramrod straight and nervously twiddling your thumbs. They never press you to drink, never insist that you’ll be fine with just one. They take your statement as fact and it isn’t brought up again. That shouldn’t be as significant as it is, now that you think about it.

Johnny’s words begin to slur a little bit on his fourth, no maybe fifth, beer. You aren’t sure. It’s very cute, the little blush that forms across his cheeks. Simon loosens up, too. He slings an arm around the back of the booth and Johnny readily tucks himself into the open spot. You find yourself wondering about their military career again. You can’t picture either of them committing violence - especially Simon. Sure, he’s big and gruff but he looks at Johnny so, so softly.

Simon is the one to call it a night - though you have a feeling its because you nodded off a couple times. Not out of boredom, you try really, really hard to pay attention to Johnny rambling about the chemistry of different explosives. He makes it interesting, somehow. Really it’s just that you’ve been awake for… holy shit almost twenty hours!

“D’you need a ride?” Simon asks as you exit the pub, hands firmly shoved into his pockets.

“No, I’ll be fine.” You don’t know how to interpret the look he’s giving you. It’s intense, but not annoyed or displeased. He has such a weird knack for unreadable but distinct expressions. You wonder if you’ll ever get close enough to get good at deciphering them.

You jump when Johnny takes both your hands in, kissing the backs of them with a sloppy, drunk smile. “Thank ye fer comin’ out. “

Somehow your face feels hotter than a damn oven. You tuck your hands to your chest, kicking shyly at the sidewalk. “Th-thanks for the invite. We, uh, we could do it again sometime?”

You glance up hopefully, praying that you didn’t misread the situation. You’ve done that before - thought people liked you more than they did. Johnny just grins wider somehow and nods excitedly.

You watch them walk off in the other direction, hand in hand. Johnny giggles about something loudly and you can see Simon’s shoulders shake with a far more silent laugh. All the way until they disappear down the street.

The sheer amount that the image hurts your heart makes you feel evil.

~~~

The pub changed something. What, you don’t know. Either way, you fall into an easy pattern with Johnny and Simon over the next couple weeks. Exchanges of food, leftovers or morsels about to turn, little visits back and forth between your shops. Johnny continues to stop by after close, just hanging around with you while Simon closes up shop.

You can’t deny how much you look forward to hearing that door chime followed by a too-loud greeting from Johnny. How your heart flips in your chest when those bright blue eyes peek around the corner into the back room or light up while trying a new recipes you’ve been testing. You’re still a bit awkward - unsure how to react when he throws an arm around your shoulders or listens oh so intently while you talk about nothing important.

Things can’t ever be all sunshine and rainbows, though. Not for you. A new problem has arisen as summer truly sets in - the comfortable spring breezes giving way to nothing but bright, unfiltered sun. One you didn’t expect to impact you this much living this far north.

Heat.

It’s hard to breathe in the back room while you’re baking. Hard to keep your water and salt intake high enough to compensate for how fast you lose them. You might as well get a permanent saline drip attached to you at this point. You definitely didn’t google if that was physically possible. Your budget for liquid IVs and other supplements nearly doubles. Standing over the massive oven in the back room has your head swimming a few times. You end up resting longer on your weekends, unable to keep up like you could in cooler weather.

It’s okay, you tell yourself, the summer here isn’t like back home. It will pass quicker. Plus, you at least have methods of dealing with it now other than crossing your fingers and praying.

“Bonnie!” Johnny suddenly appears in your doorway - that charming smile splitting his face from ear to ear. “Ye made it up Main Street yet?”

“No?” You tilt your head and try to ignore the way your vision spots momentarily at the motion. “Why?”

“Ye dinnae hear about the summer festival?” He leans on your counter. You shake your head. “It’s a yearly thing. Not that big a deal but they have some fun games an’ it’s nice tae see everyone out an’ about. Si an’ I are about tae head down. Come wit’?”

You hesitate. The exhaustion in your body tugs at your spine. Your limbs feel heavy. This morning really got to you - out of towners who must have come for the festival flooded your shop the moment it opened on top of your Saturday regulars. Not that you’re complaining, really. It’s easily your best day so far. You want to go with them, though, despite the ache in your back and the sting in your joints. It sounds so fun and it’s never a bad idea to take part in your new community’s festivities.

“Yeah. That sounds nice.” You smile. You can tough it out for an hour, then come back home. Yeah, just an hour. You’ll be fine.

You hadn’t noticed Simon leaned up at the entrance to your shop. Your eyes lock on his arms. This is the first time you’ve actually seen him in short sleeves. You can’t help but stare at his half-sleeve tattoo - all skulls and bombs and other military motifs. Faded and sun worn. Yeah, if you’d seen that sooner you definitely would have picked up on the whole military thing. You bite your lip to keep from snickering about it.

You can hear the music drifting from the speakers down the street. A few kids run by with balloons and cheap carnival prizes. It almost reminds you of the Spring Fling back home, just missing the extreme American flag theming across every booth and vendor front. Now that you’re looking around, you can actually see several booths that have been sponsored by various businesses in the area. Even the post office has a snow cone stand. The deeper you get into the event, the more flamboyant the decor becomes. Multicolored streamers and pennet flags connect stands, creating an almost canopy effect.

Simon stops rather abruptly at a booth, waiting behind a few teenagers tossing rings onto bottles. You stop with Johnny about two feet away. What’s he thinking? Simon doesn’t seem like the type who would be too entertained by basic carnival games. Even so, he steps forward and passes over a couple bills to the vendor as soon as the teenagers leave.

“Si’s really good at these. Watch.” Johnny grins beside you.

“Aren’t they rigged?” You raise an eyebrow.

Johnny doesn’t answer, eyes locked on his husband as he lines up one of the rings. You have to lean slightly to see around the breadth of the man - the multicolor rings almost cartoonishly small in his hands. Cute. Your eyes get impossibly wide with each toss, every single one landing comfortably on the bottle necks as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. As if this isn’t one of the most commonly rigged carnival games.

“Holy shit…” You mutter, still staring.

“Aye, tha’s a SAS sniper for ye.” Johnny laughs. “Glad tae see it still comes in handy.”

Simon huffs out a quiet laugh at that. Almost more of a sigh if it weren’t for the shaking of his shoulders. You love it - their little dynamic. The bond between them that’s so strong it’s almost visible.

“‘ere.” Simon turns to you suddenly, holding out a cheap little carnival prize. You can’t even begin to decipher what it’s supposed to be - some sort of furry puff ball with big, embroidered anime eyes and two felt antennae sticking up out of it’s purple head… body… thing…

Your face heats. “F-, uh, me?”

He shrugs. “Suits you. Riley will just chew it up if we take it home.”

“Aye. She’s so good with everythin’ but cheap plushies.” Johnny snickers.

You glance down at the dog in question - her dark eyes glued to the toy in Simon’s hand. Her tail thumps against the ground where she sists dutifully, but you can see the desire to snatch the thing away in her twitchy ears and pleading eyes. You snort, taking the stupid thing and tucking it under your arm with the prayer that they don’t notice the heat now spreading from your cheeks to your ears.

“Thanks…” you murmur, already mentally deciding where to add it to the mess of stuffies covering your bed already.

Somehow you end up walking between them down the street - Simon on your left and Johnny on your right with Riley in tow. You stop at a few other games here and there. All pretty basic. Johnny absolutely kills at the dunk booth.

Simon tires his hardest to help you with your terrible aim, “Just visualize it. Y’have t’ account for the arc.”

You get to the point of sticking your tongue out in concentration. Even so you only manage to knock down a couple of the wooden ducks at the ‘Dunk-A-Duck’ stand. You do, however, win one of those rock candy sticks at the guessing booth. You just hand it off to Johnny. It’s probably not best to load up on sugar in your current state.

Johnny excitedly points to different buildings giving you a rundown of the history of his hometown as you walk. Simon seems to barely be listening. He’s probably heard this a thousand times. Prattling on about the old town square, the church bell that a bunch of teenagers spray painted one time (Johnny was not involved, how could you accuse him of that?)

You find yourself focusing on your feet - keeping each step even and fast enough to remain on pace with them. One, two, one, two, one, two. The air begins to thicken. Muggy and heavy on your skin. Your breaths become shallow and fast. You can’t catch it, the air seeming to get stuck in your throat rather than reaching your lungs. Spots begin to dance across your vision. You stumble over nothing.

Not now! Come on! You’ve been doing so well!

Riley presses against your leg acting as a counter weight. Your body moves on instinct to grab whatever you can - hands wrapping around something strong and covered with cloth. An arm solid as rebar. Hopefully it’s someone you know. All you can see are colorless shapes.

“Gonna pass out - don’t freak!” You gasp before your legs give out.

It’s not that you go entirely out - it’s rare that you fully black out. It’s more like being stuck. Limp and fuzzy and confused. Almost like sleep paralysis. There’s voices and people moving around you. Someone has picked you up, you think, based on the swaying motion and the passing shapes around you. Maybe that’s just vertigo. A door bell chimes.

You finally begin to really come to when something icy is pressed to your forehead. It couldn’t have been more than a handful of seconds that you were gone, but it takes much longer for the world around you to come back into focus.

“I’m sorry…” You murmur, eyes stinging. Even after all these years it’s so damn embarrassing. You blink, the distinct mural that decorates the ceiling of the post office slowly coming into view. Johnny said a big time traveling artist painted it back in the nineties.

“Ye alright?” Johnny murmurs, crouched down beside you. Riley sniffs at your hand, seeming satisfied when you finally move it on your own.

You nod slowly. “Overheated…”

“Give her this.” Someone says. An event medic, you think. The boys must have flagged them down. Fingers press to your pulse point, a light shines in your eyes and you follow it. A quick check of vitals. Johnny shoves a water bottle in your hand as soon as the medic decides you’re fine to move - the contents distinctly murky from some sort of electrolyte pack that’s been shaken into it.

“Up y’get. Slowly does it.” Simon helps you sit up with a hand on your back. It’s so gentle. You don’t miss how he cages in your body the way only someone intimately familiar with caretaking might. Fully ready to catch you if you go limp again.

You sip slow, eyes glued to the ground. You feel so fucking stupid. Can’t even walk down a street without creating some sort of scene. They’re never going to want to hang out with you again, are they? You can’t go out drinking, can’t walk around a festival for longer than a couple hours. You distracted Riley. What if something happened to Johnny while you were having your spell? She might not have alerted correctly because of you. She might have gotten confused and then he could have gotten hurt. He might have-

“Ye really should drink tha’ instead of glarin’ at it.” Johnny pulls you from your thoughts. He’s now sat with his legs crossed beside you. Riley’s head rests in his lap. She seems calm. Content now that the emergency is over and happily lying on a cool floor.

You hum, chugging the last bit of it quickly. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be.” Simon says curtly. “Does this ‘appen often?”

You shrug. “Not as much anymore… usually my medication keeps me stable.”

“Do ye need a doctor?” Johnny tilts his head slightly. There’s no judgment in his tone - in either of their tones. Just calm concern. It probably shouldn’t make you want to cry as much as it does.

You shake your head. “I’ve got liquid IV at home. Just need to sleep it off.”

Hopefully. In reality, a pain flare up is inevitable now. You just won’t know how bad until you’re fully in it.

“Let’s get ye home.” Johnny says, knees popping as he stands.

“I-I’m fine!” You insist, mentally preparing to get yourself up off the floor. “I can get home on my own - I don’t want to ruin your time.”

Johnny levels his gaze onto you, so serious it almost looks angry. It doesn’t match his face. “We’re not leavin’ ye tae get home alone like this.”

You’re caught off guard when an arm slides under your back and another under knees - lifting you like you weigh half of what you do in reality. Like you’re a paperweight instead of a boulder. You blink up at Simon, far too surprised to be embarrassed. At least at first. You splutter out a poor attempt at convincing him to put you down. Excuse and reason after reason and excuse. They roll off him like water off a ducks back. Your face burns as he steps out of the post office with you neatly tucked against his chest - Johnny and Riley in tow.

If you allow yourself to be honest, to give into that weaker part of you (or, at least, the part you consider to be weak) you could possibly admit that this feels nice. Being cared for feels nice. Having your body up against someone else feels nice. It’s been a long time since anyone touched you outside of a polite handshake or accidental bump. You sink into it despite yourself - relaxing against Simon’s chest. They were right, you wouldn’t have made it back. Your head is too fuzzy and there’s that telltale pain in your shoulders radiating up to your neck that signifies an oncoming Bed Day.

It doesn’t take long with Simon’s lengthy strides to get back to your building. You probably wouldn’t have been able to keep up to that running. Well, you can’t really run much at all so you definitely wouldn’t. A stupid, muddled train of thought that melts into the hazy bog of your current mental state. Even Johnny trails a few feet behind. Neither of them speak, marching in determined silence. You attempt to subtly check their faces for any anger. You’d understand if they were angry. Most people would get angry. You interrupted their day out with your useless drama. All you get is a wide, bright grin from Johnny when your eyes eventually meet his.

Simon puts you down with all the care in the world. As if you’re made of fine china. His hand stays on your upper back - planted firmly between your shoulder blades and ready to catch you if need be. Your vision swims a bit, your joints feel like jelly but you manage to dig your keys out of your pocket and unlock the door.

“Here.” Johnny plops the puff ball back into your hands just as you turn to say goodbye. To say thank you - to apologize profusely.

Your brows raise. You completely forgot about it while swimming around in a sea of embarrassment - he must have picked it up for you. You hug it to your chest with a quiet, “Thanks.”

You shift your weight side to side, psyching yourself up for the crawl up the stairs. Probably literally. You don’t think you could stay upright if you tried to walk them like a regular day, or even with an aid. Like a regular or semi-regular person. Fuck.

Johnny follows your eyes up at the staircase. He must sense some hesitation in you. “Do ye need help up?”

You bite your lip, staring at the ground. Standing in one place seems alright, but the thought of climbing is so daunting, even with the cane you have stationed at the bottom of the steps for that exact purpose. It’s embarrassing. You’re young, you should be able to walk up some damn stairs. It isn’t even that many. It’s barely a full flight. Just one story of stairs for fuck’s sake.

“Hey.” Simon touches your cheek, the action snapping your eyes to his in surprise. “It’s okay. C’mere.”

He picks you up again in the same fashion with barely a grunt, taking his time up the steps so as not to jostle you. How many times has he done this with Johnny? you wonder. That’s the only explanation for how good he is at keeping your equilibrium so even. You wonder if he practiced - if he took caretaking classes. He probably did. Does he keep up at the gym just so he can take care of his husband? Simon might be quiet and a little formal, but he exudes dedication.

“Sorry it’s messy…” You murmur when they reach the top of the steps. Glancing behind you, you see Riley sitting patiently at the bottom. Johnny must have told her to stay. “Haven’t gotten to fully unpack…”

You’ve been spending too much time in bed on the weekends. Fucking lazy.

Johnny just laughs. “Ye shoulda seen the first place Simon an’ I had.”

“Wasn’t that bad.” Simon argues, carefully setting you down on the couch. His hands hold your waist to steady you. They’re so warm… It feels wrong to be disappointed when he lets go.

“We hadnae figured out a system yet.” Johnny huffs, hands on his hips. “We ended up hirin’ a specialized maid service the dishes got so backed up.”

You scoff, laying back against the couch with that stupid carnival prize still in your arms. Like it’s the only thing grounding you to reality. The tears that have been stinging your eyes this entire time continue to threaten to spill - a myriad of blinks and careful breaths the only thing keeping them back.

Johnny sits beside you slowly. You can’t meet his eyes. “Do… do ye want tae tell us what it is? Ye donnae have tae - it’s up tae ye. Just if somethin’ happens again…”

“We’d like to be prepared.” Simon jumps in where Johnny trails off.

You chew your lip, still staring up at the ceiling. It splits and that coppery taste coats your tongue for a moment. “I, uh, it’s called POTS. There’s different types but basically my body can’t regulate blood flow and pressure right…” You shrug. “Like I said my medication usually keeps me mostly okay.”

It’s the pain that really gets to you usually, but you don’t need to start dumping on them about that. There’s no reason to spill your guts about things they can’t fix.

“Thanks fer tellin’ us.” Johnny smiles. You stiffen slightly when he reaches out to tuck some hair behind your ear. You tilt your head, still resting on the back of the couch, to meet his eye. “Get some rest, yeah? We’ll lock the knob behind us. Call if ye need anythin’.”

“Okay.” You nod, keeping your eyes down and picking at your nails. “Sorry… about all this… I didn’t - I don’t… I’m sorry.”

“Donnae apologize.” He says softly as he stands. “Never apologize. We’re your friends, aye? Friends help friends. Tha’s all there is to it.”

Simon gives you a discerning nod behind him, expression both soft and deeply serious.

Friends? They consider you real life proper friends? Really? You can’t help but beam up at him. “Yeah.”

A/N: I’ve re-read this chapter so many times that it’s total mush in my brain which tells me it’s time to be done with it.

Bonus: I made a Pinterest board for this fic

[stars-and-the-min]

☆ the wrong way to hard launch (14) | OP81

summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au

pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc

a/n wait wait let him cook (imola)

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FOLLOW UP QUESTION, WHICH RACE ????

something about a formula 1 driver and a rockstar having like the most normal story of meeting is hilarious

"took me a while to actually start dating her" i'm deadddd, u pulled her in the end tho bro

best relationship on the grid, i would die for them

didn't win the race but won her number, u have ur priorities straight

y'all gas her up too much it's not like she's that big a deal 💀 ↳ she's at least ten times more famous let's be fr for a sec, most of the world doesn't know what f1 is but they've probably heard one of lina's songs on the radio

REDDIT

r/EmptyBottles · Posted by u/luckyluna9364 1 mo. ago Lina x Oscar Timeline [read new comments]

fantstic013 · 12 hr. ago reviving this post bc of oscar's tiktok; they met at a race, which race??? when did lina attend a race?? whatthekermitdid · 11 hr. ago her f1 race debut (her words, not mine) was literally suzuka last month so i'm just as confused niaphilia283 · 11 hr. ago she might have done it behind the public's back. i think we all know that lina is only seen when she wants to be seen; we basically only saw her at scheduled events for the entirety of 2020-2023 like where was she even? what was she doing?

luckyluna9364 OP · 3 hr. ago ppl out there scrambling wondering which race but it has to at least be from the 2023 season bc i bet my whole life savings that their talking period was like 3 months so the new proposed meeting is like... abu dhabi grand prix (at the very least) which was back in december 2023

TWITTER

emme @flowersforcami · 4h still not over last night's show... the shit was phenomenal, it the cherry on top ↳ amie <3 @mieflrs · 4h i don't think we acknowledge how masochistic t*mmy must be to follow lina around europe and enduring those 2 hour shows where almost every song is the biggest middle finger to your existance; personally, if a song like aconite was written about me, i'd just never show my face again

kayla @luna_apocolypse · 5h oscar's story??? sir are you talking about the actual view or the stunning woman on the balcony?? it's important that i know

president linami @ linaminami · 6h 24 days since lina's posted on any of her socials... i can't believe i miss her unserious ass so much 🥲

oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 33m "oscar could do so much better" respectfully how do you get better than selina fucking bui? ↳ oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 33m "he should be with someone like him" she's australian, she's born in 2001, she's got cat energy, she loves sleeping and chocolate, she's slightly unhinged, she's known as a prodigy in her field, she keeps down low and most importantly, she's hot as shit, what more do you want

piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 2h he called her his lucky charm 🥺 i love them so much 😭 ↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 2h wait lina?? where's this from?? i have terrible signal and no videos are loading ↳ piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 2h it's from a video of them entering the paddock, someone asked him what's its like to have her at a race again and he grinned and said she's his lucky charm ↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 2h WAIT NO THEY'RE SO CUTE I CAN'T

MESSAGES

from the phone of oscar piastri

TWITTER

oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 4h WE'RE SO BACKKKKK

↳ piaa⁸¹ @papayaeightyone · 4h that lucky charm must be working 👀

pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 34m OSCAR PIASTRI P2 START YES YES YES

oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 21m oh he was not kidding when he said she was his lucky charm ↳ oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 20m i'll have whatever he's having bc he was like a cat on steroids

jess @OPIXSTRI · 28m we were so close to a maiden pole why is it always a fucking haas ruining everything

Jonny @EB_jonno · 32m @ OscarPiastri Mega quali mate, way to absolutely send it (don't give Lina too much credit)

INSTAGRAM

oscarpiastri Autodromo Enzo e Dino Ferrari di Imola

liked by cameliazzz and 218,496 others

oscarpiastri Well, it was fun while it lasted 😂

opeightyone Time to have better fun tomorrow then

cameliazzz i bet she found it hilarious ↳ oscarpiastri @ cameliazzz She found the timing hilarious, she was pretty upset it happened

TWITTER

pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 3h oscar piastri is now incredibly familiar with the rear wing of that ferrari it's just a shame it's the hideous hp logo

oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 3h LANDO??? LANDO OML U ARE SCARING THE SHIT OUT OF EVERYONE

piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 2h i mourn the mclaren double podium we could've had... ↳ piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 2h what matters most is that oscar finished ahead of sainz, i'm a happy woman

ZG24 future WDC · @zhoupdates · 21m the most iconic cousins are having dinner together in imola after the race

tagged: 周冠宇 | Zhou Guanyu 🇨🇳 and lina !!! ↳ clara @ zgy24 · 5m oscar finally let lina out of his sight this weekend?

INSTAGRAM

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant and 264,586 others

oscarpiastri En route to Florence (got really sidetracked)

amelia_belrose who gave them the right to be so cute?

pi4str1 the anticipated road trip happened 🥺 ↳ linasgirl4 @pi4str1 from a mention in a rolling stones interview to reality, they did it guys 🫶

opeightyone Nice quick break before the double header

siera_mblanc he's never looked so boyfriend before this is insane, the girlfriend effect is slowly kicking in

TWITTER

pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 2h something real funny about oscar driving down to florence with lina to spend a day or two before having to helicopter over to monaco by wednesday for the mclaren senna tribute livery/monaco gp promotions like 😭 OSCAR, BREATHE A LITTLE ↳ pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 2h idk how u think this is lina hate, it's just me pointing out that oscar had found a gap in his schedule and immediately went: i'm spending as much time as physically possible with my girlfriend before they forcibly drag me to monaco

Oscar Piastri @ OscarPiastri · 4h Searching my family tree to find any trace of Monégasque roots ↳ Charles Leclerc @Charles_Leclerc · 1h I can adopt you if needed ↳ Jonny @EB_Jonny · 13m did we just become in-laws to the leclercs???

piaa⁸¹ @papayaeightyone · 1h oscar piastri-leclerc 😭

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

taglist @ririyulife @ashy-kit @fionaschicken @namgification @cherry-piee @urfavsgf @eiaaasamantha @sp1rl @destinyg237 @iloveyou3000morgan

[life-is-more-than-just-a-game]

♠️ What a day off of games with the aib males can look like. ♠️

A/N: Sorry, I've been absent for two days now, but for good reason. I wasn't feeling too well mentally and needed some time to myself because something happened that put me in quite a hole ... 🥲

Still, I've been thinking about what I could post here next, so I've prepared a few headcanons that define what I think a day off of games with the male characters might look like. 🙈

I hope that some of you are still around and will read through it. Feel free to let me know what you think about it or if you think any of them might have other interests! ✨

Characters: Aguni, Arisu, Chishiya, Karube & Niragi.

POV: gn!reader

Warnings: Not given.

A g u n i

It depends on what time we are in.

If the beach still exists, Aguni is often prevented from doing anything with you outside if he already occupies the number one spot.

You would have to live with the fact that you would hardly have any time just for the two of you, because someone from his troupe would always want something from him.

If he realises that this is bothering you - or he is annoyed by it himself - he will turn his boys away and say that they should leave him alone for the next 2 hours as far as possible because he has better things to do.

In general, no matter what time loop we are in, I would say that Aguni would adjust to your needs.

I have the following typical scenario in mind:

Aguni: "So there are no games waiting for us today. Any ideas what you want to do in our day off?" Y/N: "Uhm ..." Aguni: "Come on, you must have been in the mood for something." Y/N: "Yeah, but I really don't know for what I am in the mood for ..."

Nobody said it would be easy with you, but let's be honest: it's the Borderland, what excited yet relaxing things could you do here so far?

If you really don't know what you want to do, he would give some suggestions.

Aguni: "We could go to the pool." Y/N: "Too cloudy for my taste ..." Aguni: "We can do some sports together." Y/N: "Now your expectations are set far too high!" Aguni: "What about fishing?" Y/N: "Can't we just get some fresh air and go for a walk together?" Aguni: "..." Y/N: "..." Aguni: "You knew very well what you wanted to do, didn't you?" Y/N: "Without my lawyer, I won't say anything."

A r i s u

If you want to do something, then Arisu is definitely the right person.

The boy is always up for a lot of nonsense and fun activities.

This is probably also because he doesn't want to constantly think about the terrible circumstances that are happening here.

He has got used to life here, but living in constant fear doesn't get someone anywhere and only has a negative effect on oneself.

So, if he is being trapped in a world that could take his life sooner or later, he at least wants to live every day as if it were his last.

You will not regret spending time with him.

He comes up with the wildest ideas, starting with taking a closer look into the various broken buildings.

Of course, he would still be cautious of entering any places just like that- not that both of you suddenly find yourself in a game, because that's what you're trying to avoid today.

Y/N: "A-Are you sure we should do this, Arisu?" Arisu: "Nope, but you only live once, so let's check this building out- maybe we'll find some interesting things in here." Y/N: "Would you define 'corpses' as interesting ...?" Arisu: "Wow, you really managed to ruin my fun."

You still wouldn't be able to stop him.

Investigating the building would include lots of laughter and piggybacks when your feet get tired from all the walking over ruins and debris.

Eventually you find out that this building was a former arcade.

You can definitely pass the time well there.

Arisu: "Would you like a game of billiards?" Y/N: "I'm going to rip you off so bad, love."

C h i s h i y a

Listen, this boy is a damn lazy piece of shit.

When there aren't any duties don't expect him to do something special.

He has no problem putting his feet up for a day and literally doing nothing.

Feel honored if he spends his time with you at all.

No matter where you both would be, he would find ways to just doze off and relax while you - after all - lie in his arms and enjoy his closeness.

It's nice that he can do that, but you can't.

Y/N: "We've been lying around here all day." Chishiya: "Well realised." Y/N: "I'm bored." Chishiya: "Then do something."

He would definitely be a great help to you.

Jokes on you, no, he wouldn't.

Y/N: "But I wanna do something with you today since we have enough time finally." Chishiya: "We do something, darling." Y/N: "Idiot, that's not what I meant!"

Making you pout is one of his favorite things to do.

How could he be bored if you let him get on your nerves so easily?

In contrast to you, he has something to laugh about and something to amuse himself with.

Nevertheless, he would at least agree to a compromise:

Chishiya: "How about this? We'll use the time now to laze around and in the evening we'll take a look at the neighbourhood together and see which places are damned by games this time." Y/N: "We don't take part in any games, our visas count enough days for us." Chishiya: "Who said anything about taking part in a game?" Y/N: "So, if I let you lounge around now, you will promise me to stay up late with me?"

Damn, you love the nightlife.

Chishiya: "That's a deal."

K a r u b e

To me the funniest but most chaotic one.

During the day, at least.

I can well imagine that Karube and you had already planned the day ahead the evening before.

But what would life be like if everything went as planned?

The morning is pleasant. You wake up together and after a intense cuddle-round, you start your routine as usual.

Unfortunately, Karube realizes that he can't find something.

Something very important when it comes to following his routine.

Karube: "Honey, d'you know where my cigarettes are?" Y/N: "I don't know where you put them yesterday after you got ready for bed."

In the end, it all comes down to searching your whole accommodation for his cigarettes.

I mean, when you do smoke yourself, they can be important for you too ...

If not, well, then you are a very nice and good person!

Y/N: "Did you found them?" Karube: "I would have told you when that would be the case." Y/N: "Sure you didn't throw the box away because you smoked you last one yesterday evening?" Karube: "I know my pack of cigarettes inside out, there were at least three more in there."

You can guess where this is going.

You spend the whole forenoon looking for his damn cigarettes.

You turn the whole accommodation upside down.

Both of you look under every stone.

In every room.

Two times- minimum.

Y/N: "Karube, fave it, you don't have any- ... Darling ...? Karube: "What is it?" Y/N: "What's that in your pants pocket ... at the back of your butt?" Karube: "Uh-... Oh!"

Now he remebers ...

Karube: "You found them! That's right, I put them straight in my jeans yesterday so I couldn't forge- hey!" Y/N: "Yeah, I threw your boxer shorts at you!"

N i r a g i

Oh, my dearest reader-chan, please stay close to him no matter where he goes.

When he has nothing to do, he will go through the city streets looking for people to annoy.

He would look for trouble and find it- even if there's no reason for trouble, he'll just make it happen himself and find his reasons.

I don't know how, but at least you managed to stop him from taking his gun.

That's something you should be very proud of.

However, that doesn't stop him from doing anything and we know that.

So please. Stay. With. Him. Thank you!

In any case, you walk around the area together and check it out a little.

You'll talk about pretty trivial things every now and then, but that's still more pleasant than just talking to each other all the time.

When you meet someone, Niragi is ready to provoke them directly for no reason.

Thank god you had a firm hold on his hand or his arm so you could quickly drag him in another direction to avoid the innocent people.

Y/N: "Oh, look!"

Yes, you also like to pretend to see something that you would find interesting.

… In partially empty shop windows.

Niragi: "What the fuck should I look for?" Y/N: "See the rocks there?" Niragi: "You kidding me, right?"

The nice thing is that he would still look to something you tell him to look at.

There could actually be something interesting there.

Well, most of the times at least.

It's nearly impossible but who know?

Y/N: "OH, SEE WHAT I HAVE FOUND TH-" Niragi: "What is it this time? Another boring and ugly stone you think it's fascinating?" Y/N: "No ..." Niragi: "Oh, what is it this time then?" Y/N: "The tree there."

He will touch his nose and look at you angrily- but not without laughing afterwards at your amiable stupidity.

Damn, he loves you so much for what you are, he can't even be bothered.

[hifuminnn]

okay mod asked for jyu requests uhh can we get some disgustingly cute fluff with a fem so and um if it’s not a problem can it be something about jyu coming home late and his gf is still not asleep because she missed him??? aa aaand if it’s not a problem c-could you throw in a lot of pet names okay thats all thank u mod keep up the good work!!! uwu ♡

me, writing the jyuto requests about (4 years) after his birthday, and also disappointing all my followers 😔 but yep of course!! this was in my drafts for AGES so i decided to post it :) 

Jyuto x Late

Not back yet?…. You glanced nervously at the clock that hung on the wall to your left. 1:30am. You sighed, debating going to bed. Jyuto had texted you about an hour ago, telling you that he’d be back late as something had cropped up at the last moment and he’d ask you to go to bed first. You would have heeded his advice and gone to bed first if it wasn’t for…you frowned, gripping your bolster a little tighter. It was a terrible time to be missing him; thank heavens it was the weekend tomorrow, and you didn’t have to wake up at ungodly hours to go to a job you got paid too little for. His crumpled shirt lay on the floor nearby. You had tried to pull his shirt over your bolster to mimic the presence of your boyfriend but it didn’t work. You missed the feeling of his hands around your waist...you missed being able to bury your face into his chest as he held you tight at night. 

Fiddling with your phone, your fatigued face reflected in the black screen came as a shock to you. If Jyuto saw you like this, he’d certainly carry you into bed like a sack of potatoes and tuck you in so tight you wouldn’t even be able to go to the bathroom if you wanted to. Maybe I should go to bed...your thoughts were interrupted by a click and your head shot up, eyes widening at the doorknob turning. Should I fake being asleep? You watched helplessly as Jyuto’s shoes appeared in the doorway, knowing that it’d be too late for you to feign being asleep now. Sitting upright, you watched as he kicked his shoes off, running a hand through his already messy hair. Maybe he hasn’t noticed me yet? His dark eye circles do seem a lot darker. He’s probably just tired, I mean…his suit is a lot more creased than usual, he’s probably had a rough day, maybe I’ll prepare the bath for h-“Babe, I thought I told you to go to bed without me?” You jolted, leaping up from the couch, “Huh?” You didn’t even realise that Jyuto had been staring at you, a soft but tired smile on his features. He stepped towards you, throwing his workbag onto the couch, “Why’s my baby still awake? Hm?” He shot a look at his shirt on the floor, raising an eyebrow before resting his forehead against yours, allowing his eyes to flutter shut. Linking your arms around his neck, you smiled as he leaned in for a soft kiss. “I missed you. Couldn’t sleep,” you muttered against his lips. He separated from you, sighing as he ran his gloved hand through your hair, smiling at you, “I’m sorry darling. Go to bed first? I’ll just take a quick shower and be right with you baby.” You nod excitedly, running off to the bedroom to prepare a new set of clothes for him. 

[transboysokka]

chris watches twilight for the first time

omg this blueish filter is wild is this like a Pacific Northwest thing

that girl is not tan enough to be from arizona

also I’m getting big gay energy from her so idk how this movie is gonna be like. plausible.

if the dad wasn’t a cop I’d definitely smash

do u guys remember though when they used to cast ACTUAL teenagers for teen roles? refreshing

wow this guy in the cowboy hat has MAJOR swag

oh nooo Taylor Lautner I grew up with him and he sucked (real)

idk why ppl always shat on kstew being like inexpressive in this??? seems fine??

all these vampire siblings date each other?? lolololol

so far this seems like a fun little teen drama idk. it’s so blue though

Edwards stare is so intense I KNOW rpat had a great time with this lolol

Lolllll imagine seeing someone try to switch classes to avoid u but u don’t even know them??

the daughter-distant father awkwardness is v nice, v realistic

ugh this dad is so hot

Does Edward have RED eyes girl that sounds like a red flag get away

Ok this soundtrack sucks

Wait so his eyes change? Why?

wow he stopped a bread van for her w his muscles how romanticccc

also how small is this school like how does everyone know her?

vampire doctor creeps me out

lol his name is carlisle what a square

taking bets at how soon he tells her he’s a vampire it’s probably pretty soon I’m gonna say like around the one hour mark

girl is she having sex dreams about him

God Edward really is so creepy eh

Lautner’s Michigan accent is sooo bad in this omggg I can’t

are these new vampires?? the whole eating people thing really disrupts the tone of the story

So gay of bella not to care about the dress shopping. And also just skipping prom lol

Edward just following her everywhere RUN GIRL

“I should make sure Bella gets something to eat” most awkward and obvious way to ask for a date

So she’s def a vegetarian and he def doesn’t eat people food

We’re like 40 minutes in and he’s already telling her lol

Anyway why can’t he read her mind is this like a soulmate thing

This is soooo fanfictiony lmao

So she finds out he can read minds and just lets it go lol

Edward is such a dumbass though she figured him out so easy lolllll

And now she’s having vampire sex dreams lmaoooo this movie is great

Oh here it comes the “I know what you are” “say it” lol I only know this scene bc it’s from a meme or something

lmao this speed animation

is he about to sparkle

BAHAHAHAHAHA THIS IS SO UNSERIOUS

god they’re both crazy girl why are you so into him and Edward why are you so obsessed w her

ok yeah some of these lines suck

First of all these kids are missing class and for what

Second of all I cannot IMAGINE being a teenage straight girl seeing this for the first time when it comes out and basing my ENTIRE personality on this shitty ass self-insert fanfic ass plot

Girl how the hell can you be in love with him already

That’s so high school, they’re only walking together and people somehow know they’re together?

oh wow so the doctor turns these kids to stop them from dying that’s neat

I used to live only off tofu and I was very satisfied thank u very much

Wow he’s special about reading minds that’s convenient

He’s such a kid w her that’s not what I was expecting but I like it

They’re making Italian food for her bc her name is Bella lmfao

WOW anger issues much

He doesn’t sleep, he doesn’t stop going to school, he doesn’t eat, terrible existence

Was that the author in the diner

HOLY FUCK HE SNEAKS INTO HER HOUSE AND WATCHES HER SLEEP RED ALERT

DONT KISS THE GUY WHO WANTS TO EAT YOU NOOOOO

there are so many problems here lol

Dad just messing w his gun at the kitchen table, so cop coded

So American coded actually lol

Wait Edward is gonna meet him w the gun there lmao

Vampire baseball lolllll

This is just one big incest nerd family

They could have tried a little harder w the cgi for such a big budget?? This looks like the CW. Feels like it too actually

FRENCH bad guy vampires??

These stakes seem suddenly way too high??

Don’t break the hot dads heart nooooo

This really does feel like the CW though

Yeah no Rosalie is right why does that family care about Bella so much like she’s a high school girlfriend not a wife lmao

I think I’m dumb but I don’t entirely understand what’s happening here like did Bella go back to Arizona?? Why did she have to go so far to get away from this guy

FUCK is he gonna run all the way to Arizona now lol

I just don’t know how things got so suddenly so dramatic like can’t this James guy just let it go why is he going to so much effort this just all seems so silly

Wow Black Swan

yeah again idk why everyone was hating on kstew’s performance in this, it’s good

How did Edward get there so fast is there like some portal between Arizona and Washington isn’t that like a 1-2 day drive?

This is a fancy ass ballet studio btw

Yeah this fight scene sucks

So Mufasa coded “Remember who you are”

What is happening to Bella now she doesn’t turn until the last book right? (I’ve never read it idk)

Why did that guy have venom?????

Wow finally creepy Edward gets what he wanted and can drink her up…… he ain’t gonna stop

Oh I get it he stops w the power of love. Okay. Whatever.

This SONG sucks

“You lost a lot of blood” yeah THANKS Edward

Oh god the old ass cellphones. Throwback.

Not sure why she’d need oxygen w the injuries she had tbh am I missing something or is it for drama

“You’re in here bc of me” damn straight

Go to Jacksonville Bella (I know she won’t)

Don’t be a baby about it Bella????

Oh fuck is she going to prom? THATS not gonna create School Drama at all…

“Alice lent me the dress” yeah you’re too gay to own any

I know it’s bc of my issues w lautner as a person but I hate Jacob and I ALSO hate that lautner claims to have “distant” indigenous heritage bc that is another thing that he didn’t have when we were kids so why is he playing this guy

“Should we dance?” “You’re serious?” Bro you came to prom together wtf did u think u we’re gonna do

All the music in this movie sucks ass

I don’t usually advocate for this with vampire stuff but I’d have less of a problem with the creepiness of this relationship if he DID turn her

If MY bf was a vampire I wouldn’t want to be human either wtf

Okay yeah I mean that movie was whatever. Glad I understand the pop culture references now I guess

Oh no oh wait oh god I gotta watch the rest of these movies now don’t I…. Please tell me they get better

[lustlovehart]

Hi there, i saw ur blade fics & omg 😳 So i came here to send a req for another blade content with gn reader. No yandere blade, but kinda dark (related to ur latest fic of him & i hope u r ok with my req, feel free to decline it).

So, ur latest fic said the reader leaves all of the 'sinning' to him. What if the reader wants to kill someone cz that person is somehow related to their past (in terrible terms with them & it haunts the reader like how it haunts blade). But the reader remembers to leave the 'sinning' to him, so they ask blade to do it (even though they apologize afterwards cz they feel like burdening him).

I hope my req is all safe, im sry if it's complicated 😭 But thx a lot!

Hell Is A Place Without You

A/n: Ahhh!!! I’m so happy you enjoy my Blade writings ^^, I actually already was planning on making a part 2 for it so this req was perfect | pt.2 of I’ll Suffer Your Sin

Summary: Your mind is dirtied with unwanted memories, who knew that nightmare would come back to haunt you? Only you decide who ends your dream. [Date with Blade goes horribly wrong]

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Being watched while you sleep, Awkward Bladie trying to court you, Minor Character Death, horrifically written fight scene

It’s impossible to truly escape your past, the traces and scars it left behind on you will always remain on your body, no matter how hard you scrub it off. Even in your own dreams, you aren’t free of such a hell. The way that they had betrayed you is etched so deep into your skin tearing your flesh to reach its core will never be enough to absolve you from the memory. The past you remember is buried in blood, their laughter ringing in your ears as you watched them destroy everything you had, yourself as well.

You dream of being free, alas, you'll be chained by it as long as they have you.

“Is something wrong?” The way your heart pumps as gasps of air rush in and out of your lungs doesn’t fail to go unnoticed by the man next to you. He’s bare, the only thing covering his torso being the bandages wrapped around his waist. The way the light from the moon gazing through the window highlights his prettiest features, his muscular stature, his face, and even the scars that adorn his skin are beautiful.

You're sure you would've liked the sight more had you been in a regular state of mind. The events from yesterday still continue to stir you up, and the nightmare only made it worse.

"I-It's nothing just a… Wait, have you slept at all Blade…?"

…

"No, I haven't"

"Why? I know you have sleeping problems but you should try."

" I was making sure you're okay." For a moment his eyes lock onto your wrapped hand, a cruel reminder of what he had done yesterday, 

…

"Were you… Watching me sleep…?" he blinks a few times at you before turning back towards the window. Maybe that cold chill up your spine was caused by him instead of your nightmare.

“If I said no you wouldn’t be convinced.” He’s right, even if he did you would most definitely tell he was lying. Well to be fair, he never lies to you, so it wouldn’t be hard to tell in the first place. Now that you think about it, there are some moments in which you wish he would’ve created a fake truth, alas, him and his “that will change nothing” mindset won’t fulfill that wish.

“You’re right, I probably wouldn’t.” You lift yourself from the bed, the sun still hasn’t risen, in fact, it’s still evening, but knowing you have a serial sleepwatcher in the room with you, it might just be better to stay up.

His eyes follow your groggy form slowly putting your work outfit on, his gaze not at all straying. It’s only when you look straight at him that he finally decides to not stare.

He breaks the silence while you’re trying to put on your shoes, his words making you pause and look back up at him for a moment, a null feeling hidden in your chest makes you consider telling him, but in the end, you choke it down and pay no mind to his words, going back to putting your footwear on.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I said it was nothing—“ You don’t feel like announcing your personal problems as of the moment. When you finish, your body stands back up to its regular height, a small scream escaping your lungs when you turn around and find your coworker standing too close for comfort behind you. His stone-cold face is only inches apart from your own, each breath that escapes him being felt on your skin.

Despite how intimidating the situation is from an outsider's perspective, this proximity of closeness is usual between the two of you, so it doesn’t bother you as much as it should, but that doesn’t stop the chill in your body from happening.

“I don’t lie to you, I never would. Why don’t you hold the same sentiment?” His voice is soft, it’s a dead giveaway of his feelings for you, at least, you think it is, he’s not exactly the type to directly say “I love you”, so you have to gauge his current emotions through his body language and actions. It’s not a problem for you, that doesn’t mean it’s easy though.

“But I’m… I’m not lying.”

“Yes. You are. You’re not very good at it.” Sometimes you wish the two of you didn’t work as well as you do, if that was the case, maybe he wouldn’t be able to see through you so easily.

…

“You’re right I’m lying. But… I don’t know why you care so much… It has nothing to do with you.” Your sentence starts soft before branching out into a firmer tone. This change in attitude made his breath, though barely audibly, hitch in his throat. You don’t speak any more words, only letting his sight linger on you a little longer. His eyes close when he finally retracts himself from your body.

The breath you had held in your esophagus was finally sighed out from the sudden free space. When you look up again, you see the man walk towards the door, the handle clicking as he unlocks and turns it open.

Is he gonna leave…? No is he… Brooding…? The door swings open quickly, his body maneuvering so he’s on the side. He doesn’t look at you, but with the way he’s holding the door, you assume he’s holding it open for you.

“Let’s go.”

“Wha? It’s practically midnight… Where would we go? Nothing's open, and the script is meant to start in a couple of hours—“

“Do we need to have something to do?”

“Well, usually, yeah.”

“Then we’ll walk.” His eyes still don’t make contact with yours, but you can feel the very feint feeling of him wanting you to agree. As you walk forward your body can’t help but hesitate for a moment. The Stellaron hunter is quickly taken by surprise when he feels your previously injured hand grab onto his wrist and drag him along behind you.

———

The planet you both are currently residing within is a metropolis filled with millions of stores. Maybe if you hadn’t dreamed in your sleep you could’ve gone shopping, too bad they’re all closed.

“You could always go when we’re done with the script.” His deep voice breaks your train of thought as you look down at the tiny lights. You don’t look at him but a quiet “mm” is all he needs to hear to know you heard him.

“By the time we’re done, the city will be in shambles, I don’t think that’ll work.” It’s sad really, looking down at the little glowing wisps reminds you that there are people who live here, not just people, animals, and robots, all with their own lives.

“I didn’t say you had to buy anything.” Sometimes though, not all those lives are worthy of happiness.

“Are you implying we should steal during the aftermath?” You don’t hear the silent steps walking towards the two of you, too absorbed in your conversation with the one your coworkers describe as your “bodyguard”.

“I could do it for you.” They’re close, close enough to hear the words you speak to the man.

“Would you really? I thought you were the type to not stray from the script.” You finally turn around to face him, despite the solemn mood, a slight smile can be seen from your lips a teasing demeanor exuding from your mask. Your body leans on the railing, Blade's eyes occasionally shifting to where you stand, you take it he’s worried you’ll fall.

“I am. I’m following it. Elio says I’m to “make [Name] enjoy the planet”.”

“Oh? So you’re only doing it cause you have to?” Your body lifts from where you once leaned, his own staying unmoved as you advance toward him.

“No, I would’ve done it either way.” Your smile widens a little more, his words are simple but it’s nice to know he’d do something like that for you unprompted. 

The way your face exudes such a warm expression doesn’t go unnoticed, going from a formerly teasing to a more heartfelt look, making his mouth almost quirk up. Almost. As he stares, his mind is taking at least 5 mental pictures to not forget the look on your face.

Perhaps he’ll use it in the future whenever his mara needs quenching. Who’s he kidding, it’s not perhaps, it’s for certain that he’ll use it.

“Would you buy-- or rather, steal me a drink 'cause you want to?“ your finger lifts causing the man's attention to shift, looking at the vending machine in the far distance filled with different juices and beverages. He can feel you gently open his palm, placing credits in his hand. He doesn’t say words but nods his head, turning to walk towards the machine. 

A machine that was quite the stretch away from you.  

Your head turns to look at the pretty lights at the city below, unsuspecting of the person hidden behind you. 

A crunch sounds out through the air, your body immediately spinning to see the figure hurling towards you, the glint of steel highlighting the weapon in their hand. 

Clash of Blades continue to spiral out in the space until you’ve successfully pinned them to the railing, their body leaned over the fence, a small edge laid on their throat. Right there, in your hands, is the chance to leave your history behind in the dust. But, your hand can’t help but tremble. Your knees are weak too, despite it, your hand continues to press deeper, blood drawing from the wound. 

“Take me, as much as you need. All of it if you have to.“

“is that it?“ a sadistic laugh escaped from the depths of their throat. The cold feeling of a sharp point is directed in your stomach. “I’m fine with you coming back if that’s what you want-“ 

“... I don’t need it. So have it.“

The figure is shoved to the side, their head making contact with the floor, the weapon in your hand unmoving from its place as you look down to where their body lies. They’re still alive, the harsh breathing of their crumpled form on the floor is enough to tell you. A hand intertwines with your own, the familiar touch reminding you of the events from yesterday. 

Blade's hand is warm as he holds your fingers in his, the reds in his eyes looking at you. 

“...“ 

For a moment, your eyes make contact, keeping a steady connection. The light from the city accentuates his looks, the expression on his face pensive, yet still pretty at the same time. 

“I’ll leave the… ‘sinning’, to you then.“

Slowly, your grip on the handle loosens, the only thing keeping your hold on the weapon being Blade's hands clinging to yours. 

“Blade… Please–“ Your head is turned down, the gentle tilt of his hand making you look at the floor. The knife is finally released from your possession, your eyes not looking up to meet him at the trade. From the edge of your vision, you can see Blade shrug off his outerwear, hanging the piece of clothing on your head, further sheltering you from the gruesome sight soon to come. 

The smell of Citrus and Herbal tea invades your nostrils, both comforting and horrifying. But, the scent is enough to distract you from the harsh sound of a knife swinging and the wheezing that accompanies it. A few quick jabs and the sound of breathing slowly dissipates. 

Even then, Blade's attack on the body does not stop, he keeps going until he can discern the sound of heavy breathing being yours and not his own, finally breaking him out of his trance and allowing him to turn back to you. 

Your hands slowly begin to lift the jacket from your person before swift footsteps halt your actions, quickly tugging the fabric back down. 

“Not yet.” 

He’s quick to take you by the waist, the pungency of iron breaching the protective layer of cloth between you and him. It isn’t until minutes pass does he delicately lifts the jacket off your head and rests it on your shoulders. 

The sight, it’s one you’ve seen dozens of times on him, deep scarlet liquid splattered and smeared on his body, hollow eyes, sullied clothes with fresh blood on his soft hair. 

You continue clinging onto his jacket. Looking at him, but not at him. The barrier serving as a blockade for the beast in front of you. 

Neither of you speak, only listening to the sounds of the sleeping city as you indulge in one another. His mouth leans towards his bloodied glove, the teeth behind his lips revealing themself and serving as a removal for the piece of fabric. 

He reaches for your hand, the scars on his skin evident as you allow him to place your palm on your chest. 

“You’re alive [Name].” He’s right, the beating in your chest is proof of that fact. But so what? “You’re alive in the same way that I’m dead.” What? The look he holds in his eyes is empty, not giving you any telltale sign of what he means. 

“But even then, what would the living know about the words of the dead.” A quote from Kafka that she had restated is all you can remember in your mind. His grip on your hand doesn’t relent for a moment, only pointing his head in the direction of the city, signaling you to turn around and see. 

The once-slumbering city has now awoken. A beautiful sight that will eventually fall despite the morning's hope. 

A ding sounds from Blade's phone. 

Kafka 🕸️: Are you ready dears? 

---

This took way longer to finish than I wanted it to

[fatimaah]

love like

Should it all be like THIS? No it shouldn't. You know you can change anything anytime. Just by doing something or not doing something. You can tell your parents that ur taking a gap year and university isn't really what u want, at least for now. Even if they don't understand you could tell them that's ur decision and ur not willing to change ur mind. But then it might have some coincidences...and then... should you really do it or should u trust ur mom? Do u want it Fatimah?

These days are low-key sad...not exactly sad, they're just boring? When I was six I thought 17-18 will feel magical. I thought I was going to get the control over my life and do what I want to do, I thought I'd be a cool tennis player or artist or I would create some cool thingies to sell. And people say dreams change, like u might want to be a singer when ur younger and then end up being a business lady, but do they change? I don't know, mine hasn't really changed.

Why should we all study and everything? Like yeah people WANT to study and experience student life and blah blah blah. But at the end of the day, people get higher education to then connect it to their future job. I don't wanna work as a psychologist or English teacher.... maybe Arabic teacher but I want this just to teach Quran not because I'm super into teaching (but we'll hm, doing presentations is fun...) . I don't want to work for money I'll make sure to marry someone nice who knows how to make money. I wanna work for enjoyment. People get a job to get money and they need money to enjoy life so why not skipping it all to "enjoy" part? I hate the feeling of losing time. No way.

Don't wanna be THE BEST, wanna be the one who enjoyed THE MOST.

today is terrible not only did I wake up with this stupid headache but also firuza didn't come and it's so lonely without her. It's cool but yeah would be better with her.

why am I even sad, I'm just worried. Life terrifies me. Not that I think I will be so poor and ugly I'm just afraid...what if one day I'll just stop enjoying life? What if I will marry someone I don't love, what if I will just like him, those are different, right? And what if I won't love my future job? What if I'll just like it? At least I won't hate life cuz if I do I won't be able to stop living, I'll just accept it

I'm being too dramatic. Everyone has problems. Frzn is too f up because of her education abroad, kmll is also probably stressed out about it, Assy might be too tired of expectations about her, I would definitely be tired of it. Firuza...oh she is definitely going through some shit. And I'm not even talking about adults, about my cousins, about Amina, about others..

It feels like I'm living in the world where someone made those stupid rules on how to be happy "the right way" and everyone else is following it tho it doesn't feel right. I will follow it too probably. I'm too confused about my own dreams for a gap year.... I'm not taking a gap year. Don't want to f everything up it's better to do what everyone else is doing. I'm too tired

And I'm tired of school too, I'm low-key happy it's coming to an end , I'll miss some people but that's just how things always go, nothing new

Exhaustingly boring day,

May 15, 2024

[honey-milk-depresso]

hi hi hiii! so I saw that requests are open and thought that I should slide in with a request for Riddle, Jade, Deuce, and Leona with an s/o that has a horrible sense of direction? like they were supposed to meet at place A but they ended up in place Z.

anyways, if you've closed requests feel free to delete this. oh and have a nice day/night! 💃💞

:))) Hello-

You have become the funniest ask I have because HBDVDD- I WAS LAUGHING SI HARD FOR SOME CHARACTERS' REACTIONS-

*wheezes*

Hope you enjoy!! ^^

TWST S/o with terrible sense of direction

Riddle Rosehearts

You know what's funny?

Nothing, because he's so done-

Like-

First time in history, congrats s/o-

He said meet him at the Rose Garden on a date with him, you call him-

Tell him

"I don't see you-"

he asks you where you are-

"Wait... is this Pomefiore?"

I- Wtf s/o-

Riddle.. thought Ace or Deuce would be the last of him, but I guessed you proved him wrong-

Now he knows why you're always late for classes, because you don't know where to go.

Riddle would give you a fcking PAPER MAP- of the ENTIRE NRC, and mark out the classes you need to go to, Heartslabyul, just the places you would mostly go to or have to go to. He might even ask Trey, Cater and the Adeuce combo to be with you to help.

Riddle just don't want you getting lost in the campus, he's worried after all.

Hopefully, you'll get your way around. <3

Deuce Spade

Freak the frick out-

"Hey, can you go to Sam's Shop and buy some eggs?"

"Sure thing!"

"Thank you so much!!"

15 minutes later-

"Why are you taking so long?? Did something happen??"

"Um.. Is Sam's Shop in the ocean?? Imma bout to sign some contract to get the eggs I guess-"

"WTF- WAIT S/O- DON'T-"

yep-

That's you and him. So romantic~

Deuce doesn't know how to help you,

but informs his dorm leaders and Heartslabyul seniors (Trey and Cater) to see if they can help you.

Of course we all know-

Riddle gives out the fcking PAPER MAPS-

WHAT ARE YOU- GRANDPA??? jk jk we love you still-

Deuce also accompanies you everywhere with Ace so they can help you get around NRC with no problems!

He's just worried if you ended up lost, so he'll always be your guide! <3

Leona Kingscholar

You thought Riddle was done-

Oh nonon

"Just go to my room. Top floor of Savanaclaw, don't be late-"

"Um.. yeah, but um- does your dorm have rose mazes and bushes??"

"...wtf-"

*Leona has ended the call*

He is more than done-

B r u h-

How tf do you messed up that bad in directions??

Sure, NRC is pretty big but come on, s/o-

Leona doesn't get it.

He's too lazy to escort you to Savanaclaw or your classes, so he might leave Ruggie, or mostly Jack to guide you to wherever.

Maybe he'll give you some sort of mark on your table and give you a rough idea on Savanaclaw is or some shit-

That's useless bro-

But occasionally he'll escort you, and the lil shit expects cuddles and more sleep as his reward-

WELL I GUESS A NOBLE PEACE PRICE AWARD COUNTS-

Well, he does care for you and he wouldn't want you lost NOT just because it'll be a pain to find you <3

Jade Leech

Oh dear.

He finds this... troublesome yet amusing.

"Dear, please come to Monstro Lounge. I made dinner for the two of us~"

"Sure!"

"S/o, it's been 30 minutes, what happened?"

"I- um- Ya'll don't live in grasslands, right?"

"...Are you referring to Savanaclaw?"

"Yeah, I don't know where Octavinelle is, sorry-"

Half of him is like "are you kidding me, s/o??",

but the other half of him chuckled, genuinely finding this quirk of yours hilarious.

Now he knows why the Adeuce combo follow you every where.

You'll most likely get lost without them.

Well, he would be a terrible lover if he didn't help you now, would he?

No matter, he'll be escorting you from now on.

He might have informed Azul of such, and maybe Azul called Idia to create some sort of GPS device to help you find your way through NRC (although we all know Azul would've probably felt betrayed in Chapter 6-).

He's worried if you get lost, and bump into potential dangers, so he'll do his very best to guide you and prevent such.

You're his darling after all, he wants you safe~ <3

DHDBHD IM NOT SAFE FROM YOU BUT FCK PLEASE KISS MY HAND BEFORE YOU ESCORT US BECAUSE GOD I WANT THAT-

I'm so sappy, okay I'll stop-

[scuttling]

Trophy Husband

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 2,188 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad bod Hotch, Insecure Hotch, Dry humping, Unprotected sex, a lil Daddy kink Summary: Requested by anon: “maybe some dad bod hotch smut? like where he’s newly retired and hasn’t been working out as much and the reader worships his body bc he’s been feeling a little insecure” I love some dad bod Hotch, so happy to fill this request! Link to A03 or read below!

“No, we’re not doing forced overtime again. If you want my team to put out more consults, then we need to hire more profilers.” You walk through your front door and into the kitchen, smiling when you see Aaron standing over the stove, holding a wooden spoon and stirring something that smells amazing. “With all due respect, I’m not concerned about the budget, sir; if my people are as valuable as you stated, then I expect them to be taken care of.”

Aaron looks back at you, wrinkles his nose, and you make a motion with your hands—blah, blah, blah—which makes him chuckle.

“I agree completely, sir. That’s a great idea. If you send down the requisitions tomorrow, I’ll start interviewing on Monday. No, thank you. Good night.” You lock your phone, set your bag on the stool closest to you, and sigh. “Was it this hard to get stuff done when you were the unit chief?”

“No, it’s definitely harder now, but you make it look easy. And sexy,” he says with a smirk, and you walk over to him; he offers a taste of what he’s making—it looks like paella, and your stomach rumbles—and you lean in to take a bite off of the spoon, looking up at him and flicking your tongue over your lips. His eyes get dark.

Even after ten years of marriage, he’s so easy to get going, it’s almost unfair.

“Delicious, daddy, thank you.” You stand up fully, and he turns back to the stove; your arms wrap easily around his waist, cheek pressed to the soft, worn t-shirt that covers his back. “How was your day? Are you still enjoying the life of a trophy husband?” He snorts, muscles tensing enough that you can feel it where you rest.

“Hardly.” He was in such a good mood a moment ago that this feels like a complete 180; profiler or not, you know your husband, and something’s on his mind. You tighten your embrace, and he shrugs you off a little, and that is practically unheard of. You stand, take a step back to look at him.

“What’s wrong? You aren’t getting bored of retirement already, are you? It’s only been six months.” He sighs, shakes his head. You’re sure you look confused.

“No, retirement is fine; it’s great, actually, it’s not that.” Typical Aaron, always making you drag this shit out of him. For being so sweet and kind, he’s still not that great at being open, even though you make every effort to encourage it.

“What is it, sweetheart? Something is obviously bothering you; we should talk about it.” Another deep exhale, and he turns off the burner, moves the pan of food off of the heat, and turns to face you fully.

“I imagine you already know.” You shake your head, shrug, and he gestures to himself, to his body. You feel stupid, like there’s something you’re missing.

“Aaron, love of my life, I don’t have any idea what this means.” You mimic his previous motion, and he rolls his eyes, which you can’t stand, and he’s well aware of that. “You’ve got to give me more than that, or I can’t help.”

“You can’t help, it just… is.” He sighs, and his shoulders deflate. You move closer, to touch him, comfort him, but he takes a step back. “I know I’m not the ‘trophy husband’ you probably expected me to be. I know this isn’t what you signed up for.”

You do your best to put together these cryptic sentences, the hand gesture, and when realization finally dawns on you, you can’t help it: you laugh.

Aaron turns away, and you know that was shitty, feel instantly terrible, so you reach out to put a gentle hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you, it’s just… you don’t think you’re hot anymore?” He turns to face you, looking at you like he’s tired of your shenanigans, which… after this long, he should be plenty used to them, so the look does nothing for you.

“I’ve gotten… soft, I think that’s obvious.” At that, you smirk a little, move your hands to the button on his jeans.

“Oh, I don’t think there’s anything soft about you, Aaron. Why don’t you let me put your cock in my mouth, and we’ll check again.”

“You wanted me to talk, I’m talking.” His tone is a little admonishing, and you kind of deserve it, so you stop being horny for a second and take a deep breath.

“You’re right. Sorry. So… you’re exercising less, because obviously you don’t need to be as fit anymore, since you’re not working. Am I following?” He nods his head. “Okay, and you’re feeling… insecure about the way your body looks now, because of it.”

“Yes. Especially when you, Unit Chief Hotchner, are kicking ass and looking fucking delicious doing it, and then you have to come home to me.”

It’s like a switch is flipped in you, at those words. Oh hell no.

“Hold on here. I don’t have to come home to you, I get to come home to you; every night I do, it’s like a dream come true, and on the nights I don’t get to come home to you, I dream about it. I dream about being in your arms—strong arms, always, even if they’re less defined—and I dream about making love to you and fucking you and everything in between. You: not the Aaron of two months ago or six months ago or five years ago. You.”

He looks your face over—you’re getting fired up and you know it, and it turns him on and you also know that—and then the two of you come together for a deep, desperate kiss. Your hands fist in his hair, his roughly grab your ass, and when you pull back for air he turns you so you’re bent over the counter, searches for the zipper of your skirt.

“No!” He freezes, then steps back, and you stand up, flushed. “I’m sorry, not no—just, not here.” He blows out a breath, and you kiss him softly, sorry you scared him. “It’s just that… I want to lay you back on our bed, completely naked, and I want to put my mouth and my hands on you, everywhere. I want you to see what your body does to me, exactly as it is right now. I get that that might make you feel a little vulnerable, but will you let me?” You press your lips to his again, put your hands gently on his face. “Let me, baby.”

He nods, and you take his hand, take him to your bedroom. He’s visibly nervous, so you move his hands to your body, let him strip you naked first. He always takes pleasure in this, whether he is ripping the buttons off your favorite blouse or softly mouthing at your thighs while he drags your panties down your legs, and tonight is no exception.

“So beautiful, baby,” he murmurs as he finds that zip and drags it down, helping you step out of the skirt. You kick off your heels, and he unbuttons your top—carefully, tonight—then unhooks your bra, pulls you close and kisses your neck and chest so deliciously you almost forget what brought you here.

You lick your lips, shake yourself from the haze of submission you always feel when his mouth is at your throat, and your hands flick open the button of his jeans, tug down the zipper, guide his pants to the floor. He steps out of them, and you kiss his mouth.

Your hands move up, to the hem of his t-shirt, but you do nothing. He smirks, pulls it over his head, because he knows you love that hot guy way of pulling a t-shirt off with one hand, and he happens to be a master of it. You do your best not to drool.

“Mmm. You know exactly what I like, Aaron. There’s nobody in this world who could turn me on like you, who could get me off like you.” He licks his lips, and you get on your knees, running your hands down his body as you go. “Toes to nose, you are exactly who and what I want. Don’t ever forget that.”

You start low, press your lips to the tops of his feet, then his ankles, his calves, his knees. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, but you keep moving up, slowly, until your hands find the waistband of his underwear and you pull them down. His cock springs up—this in particular is never a problem, no matter his age—and you kiss up his thighs and then rise to stand.

“Baby,” he breathes, and you lean up for a kiss, drop your panties. He grabs a fistful of your hair, takes another, rougher kiss, then releases you; you’re panting hard, and your teeth sink into your bottom lip. God, he’s good. How could he ever doubt his sex appeal when he makes you this much of a horny, eager mess with just a kiss?

You guide him back to the bed because he’s too tall for you to reach everywhere standing up; you start at his right wrist, kiss your way to the crook of his elbow, over his biceps, to his shoulder. You trail your lips over his collarbone, his throat, pausing to nibble on his earlobes, to peck him on the tip of his nose.

“I love you so much, Aaron. You are and always will be perfect in my eyes. I barely even notice when you’re being a dick anymore,” you joke, and he laughs; steamy and sexy is really good, but it’s your favorite when he laughs.

You kiss down the other side of his neck, down his arm, but this time you bring his hand up and suck on his middle and ring fingers, taking them so deeply you can flick your tongue over his wedding ring. He groans, you groan, it’s really hot. Your pussy throbs.

“Fuck, baby.” You pull them out of your mouth with an innocent smile, and then straddle his legs, leaning forward to suck and bite kisses all over his stomach and hips, avoiding his cock altogether. “Oh, god, that feels so good,” he breathes, reaching for your hair, and you slide your arms up his chest, squeeze the muscles there that are softer, but still present, while you kiss wetly along his belly.

“Mmm,” you moan while you kiss, because you’re kind of… lined up tight against his thigh, and it feels really good.

You keep kissing, all over, sloppy, eager kisses, rubbing his chest and grinding against his thigh, and it’s a surprise to you both when you come, looking up at him with your mouth open and your nails digging into his skin.

“Holy fuck,” you sigh when you’re done—there’s no sugarcoating this—humping his leg, and he licks his lips, wraps his hands around your arms, and maneuvers you on onto your back, slides his cock easily inside you where you’re wet and warm. “Yes, Aaron.”

“Oh, baby. Fuck, I love you,” he groans, and he laces your fingers with his and tucks his face against your neck. You love when he gets like this, so desperate to come but so soft, so loving, and you squeeze him with your legs, push your body into his thrusts.

“Like that, honey, just like that,” you breathe, mouthing at his shoulder, your free hand clutching at his back. “Come inside me, daddy; pin me with your big body like you always do and come inside me. Love it, want it, need it.”

He moans into your throat, works his hips harder, faster, and you hold him when he comes, smoothing your palm over his skin. He looks down at you, and love shines in his eyes just like always; your heart melts a little. That’s something you’ll never get tired of seeing as long as you live.

He pulls out, replaces his cock with his fingers and brings you to orgasm again, still looking into your eyes, and he catches your last gasping moan with his lips.

You’re both tired after that, not as young as you used to be, and you pull him on top of your body again, a warm, reassuring weight; underneath him is your favorite place to be, always has been, always will be.

“Trophy husband,” you coo in his ear, scraping fingers through his hair. He chuckles softly, brushes his thumb over your lips.

“Badass wife.”

“Mm hmm, and don’t you forget it.” After a couple minutes, your stomach rumbles, and Aaron climbs off of you, returns with the whole pan of paella, two spoons, and a bottle of white wine. “No glasses?” you ask, teasing, sitting up against the pillows, and he shakes his head, wrinkles his nose.

“Nah, I like it better this way. My lips where your lips have been.” He leans in for a soft, slow, sultry kiss, and you sigh when it’s over, lean your head against his shoulder, and smile.

❤️ Taglist: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix

[imagining-in-the-margins]

The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 4)

Summary: Reader has a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, which her Professor is hellbent on making a little bit better. A/N: If y’all thought you hated Kyle (bathroom bitch boy), just wait until you meet the new antagonist (of the female variety) here... I hope you all enjoy! 😚 Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Sexual themes/fantasies Word Count: 6.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

——————————————————

Einstein once attributed his genius to his childlike sense of humor. Studies performed since then have largely proven his point — funny people tend to have higher IQs, which makes sense when you consider the cognitive and emotional intelligence required to produce humor.

Spencer Reid was no exception. The only problem was that his humor was so remarkably niche and impossibly specific that barely anyone could understand the punchline. He insisted to me that he’d gotten better over the years, which I only barely believed… until he told me a joke that hadn’t left my mind since. A joke that he described as ‘just crude enough to make it palatable to the layman.’

"Caffeine and Viagra are both phosphodiesterase inhibitors,” he’d said — a slow start if there had ever been such a thing. But I held on to hope, hanging on the ecstatic, guileless smile he wore. And boy, was I glad I did, because what he’d said next broke me into a frankly embarrassing fit of giggles that returned with the memory every time.

“Which explains why both of these drugs keep you up all night."

The poor barista stuck working the busy early morning shift eyed me like I’d grown two heads when I once again devolved into laughter for no apparent reason. I almost felt embarrassed about it, but then I reassured myself that if she’d heard Dr. Spencer Reid tell a drug-induced-boner joke, she would also laugh about it forever.

I’d been thinking about him a lot lately. Not in a perverse way, either, despite his increasing comfort in breaching such topics in my presence. It was more like I’d started to infuse him into my every day, finding him in whatever way my brain would allow. While I made my way to his office, I breathed in the soothing scent drifting from the cups that were precariously perched in flimsy cardboard.

The smell took me back to quiet moments in his office. The kind of simple serenity that accompanied silence between two people who need not speak to share ideas. Where the second you looked away, you felt their eyes follow you, like the universe couldn’t maintain its structural integrity without one of you looking at the other.

It was intoxicating and alluring; so easy to lose myself in. Something I knew was dangerous for a number of reasons.

For example, when I am not paying the utmost attention to my surroundings, I have a tendency to lose track of where I am and what I’m doing. I also tend to… drop things. Especially hot and otherwise dangerous things.

Things like the two cups of coffee that finally became too much for shallow, defective cardboard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I screeched as I became acutely aware of every place where scorching hot, drenched clothing hung on angry skin. Normally, I would at least try to sound more dignified while on my way to work, but it hardly seemed like it mattered anymore.

I was too busy hurriedly tearing at my shirt and dropping everything else I was holding. I’d gotten three whole buttons on my shirt popped by the time I remembered it wasn’t technically necessary. I dropped my bag immediately at the thought, tugging on the hem of the shirt and trying to bring it over my head.

Unfortunately, I still hadn’t regained my grace, and in the muddled mess of fabric, I’d also grabbed hold of my undershirt. Which meant that whoever was walking through the empty halls of the early morning in academia would find me, with my stomach exposed and clothing dripping while unintelligible curses flowed freely from my lips.

I expected most people would probably just turn around and leave. I probably would’ve. The giant splatter of coffee and the absolute idiot slipping in it were beyond saving.

But there was at least one person who saw the mess and stayed.

I smelled his cologne before I felt his hand was pressed over the bare skin of my lower back. Despite the fact my skin was burning, it welcomed the warmth of his touch. My body stopped at his command, waiting for him to break me free of the paradoxically frozen state I was in.

He pulled the shirt back down, just enough that I could see him when he wrapped his cardigan around my shoulders and started guiding me into his office, which I’d somehow managed to almost walk straight past in my daze. I wished that I could go back there, to the imaginary world where he hadn’t just seen me half disrobed and cursing while covered in the coffee that I’d meant to give to him.

Spencer’s hands left me once the door was shut, probably trusting, or at least hoping, that I could figure out the mess on my own. Oddly enough, I didn’t notice any signs of him staring at me. Like he only felt comfortable looking when I was clothed.

I tried not to think about it. Once I did manage to free myself of one of the shirts — without further flashing my boss — the anxiety brewing inside of me burst out in the form of frantic shouting.

“Hi Professor! I’m so sorry, I spilled the coffee!”

“Yeah, I... saw the puddle,” he mumbled, throwing a cursory glance back at the hallway before his eyes met mine with a terrifying level of compassion, “Are you alright?”

“Besides the boiling liquid on my skin and the horrid embarrassment? I guess,” I mumbled back before shouting, “Shit! This is why that woman sued McDonald’s! Why do stores serve coffee like that?!”

Spencer didn’t really say anything. In fact, he kind of just stood as frozen as I had been, staring at everything around me rather than meeting my eyes again. But while he seemed somewhat cool and composed, I continued to tug at my clothes to try and avoid the friction. It was then that he cleared his throat, covering his face just like he’d done when he saw me in an arguably more provocative position the week before.

Arguably, I said. I should have known that Spencer would win any argument. I should have considered why he was making such a point of not looking at me while I clawed at the white undershirt turned beige. But I didn’t. Not until I looked down to inspect the state of my skin.

I realized then that Spencer had been trying to figure out a way to inform me that not only had the coffee turned my shirt a different shade — it had also eliminated the opacity.

He could see my bra. Spencer Reid, my boss, was trying not to stare at my very clearly visible bra.

“God, this is the worst Monday of all Mondays!” I whined between half-sobs, “and Mondays are already bad, Professor!”

There must have been something else in that cry, too. Something akin to permission. Enough for him to step closer, managing to avoid looking at my chest in the process. I’d entirely forgotten that he’d wrapped me in his cardigan until he pulled it tighter around my shoulders like his own version of an embrace.

“That they are, Bunny.”

If my skin had been heated before, it turned to flames at the use of the nickname. It was honestly a pure work of magic that the liquid on me didn’t turn vaporize the second I’d heard the word.

Bunny?

I pushed the thought away as quick as humanly possible, focusing instead on the way my clothes were going from uncomfortably hot to frigid as a result of the usually refreshing air conditioning. But when I was once again reminded of the obvious undergarment, I sighed.

“I can probably ask a friend to bring me a replacement shirt, or just go to class like this,” I thought aloud, “No one really looks at me, anyway...”

Spencer’s response came immediately, his hands flying up in protest as he shouted, “No!”

I wasn’t quite sure how to reply to that, or even which part of the statement he was objecting to, so he was met with a wide-eyed, slow blinking stare.

“I-I mean, I have a shirt you can borrow. I don’t want to subject you to any further embarrassment,” he explained at a significantly more appropriate volume, “You can just wear my extra shirt.”

He turned away from me before I could respond, shuffling through something hidden beneath his desk that created more questions than answers for me.

“Why do you have an extra shirt?”

“Go bag,” he said in the most nondescript manner. It wasn’t necessarily abnormal, either. The question I’d asked didn’t spark any concerns in his mind, but it also wasn’t the question that I felt needed to be asked.

What I really wanted to say was caught in my throat. My hands clamped together in front of me tighter than my jaw that resisted opening to make way for the thoughts that felt more scandalous than they should’ve been.  

“U-Um, Professor don’t you think—“

“Here you go,” he offered with a smile. I took the large, plain black shirt with a hefty dose of caution, my hands shaking along with my broken voice that still couldn’t finish the sentence from before.

Spencer finally noticed the struggle on my face, and I watched his body move from comfortable to defensive in a matter of seconds. Like he was worried he’d done something wrong in trying to be kind.

He hadn’t, but I felt like I had.

“Won’t people... you know?” I mumbled, motioning a hand between the two of us, “I’m showing up to your class at 8AM wearing your clothes…”

I thought that the words alone would be enough. I thought that the gesture was overkill. But Spencer was still staring at me with his head cocked to the side and his eyes narrowed in thought.

I was going to have to say it.

Won’t they think we’re having sex?

There was no way I was going to be able to say it.

“Aren’t you concerned about people getting… the wrong idea?” I blurted out, instead.

The confusion on his face shifted to a clever little self-assured smirk so fast that I almost missed the transition. My stomach flipped from the sight, but then he spoke again, and what had felt like it was filled with butterflies turned to rocks.

“I’d much rather them gossip about something that’s not happening than watch the young boys ogle you instead of paying attention.”

It wasn’t the words, but the way that he’d said them. Like they were silly, like the idea of us being together was so preposterous it could only be entertained by people he perceived to be children.

I was foolish, too.

“Don’t worry about them,” he said with a wave, “Just worry about making this Monday a little bit better.”

“O-okay. Thanks,” I whispered, turning and running from the room only to be reminded of the mess I’d made. But the pool of tawny liquid on the floor wasn’t the most disastrous thing anymore. That honor was reserved for the state of my heart, begrudgingly continuing to beat despite being broken.

Scooping up my bag that I’d abandoned before, I tried to allow myself to be happy about the little things. For instance, the fact that the shirt Spencer had handed me was probably the softest thing I’d ever felt in my life. It made sense, considering the sensory issues he always described.

Still, I waited until I was in the safety of a bathroom stall before I buried my face in the fabric. It smelled just like him, a mixture of freshly done laundry and vanilla. Much better than the cheap, burnt coffee that covered me. Funny enough, that sort of smelled like him, too.

By the time I slipped into his clothes, I had almost forgotten his joke entirely. I was too lost in the joy of sweater paws from his cardigan and fabric that felt like a hug. Or at least, what I’d imagined a hug from him would be like.

The energy it provided me was a better pick-me-up than any cup of coffee had ever been. I kept my squealing as quietly as I could, bouncing in place just like the nickname he’d chosen to let stick. But before I returned to him, I felt something. A small, noticeable weight in one of the cardigan pockets.

If I’d thought about it for longer than five seconds, if I’d reminded myself that they were his clothes and not mine, I would’ve let it be. I wouldn’t have pulled the little object from its safe hiding spot. It would have stayed locked away, leaving me none the wiser of its presence.

But I didn’t think about it, and then there I was, holding onto the sobriety token I should’ve seen coming.

Not that it was a bad thing; I already knew Spencer had a history with drugs. He’d mentioned it in passing in class and was deeply involved with a number of volunteer programs around the area. At one point, I’d even taken it upon myself to research his history.

That research, while I regretted it now, feeling that it violated his privacy some way or another, led me to a second conclusion. As my thumb ghosted over the embossed number five, I realized that Spencer had been sober since he was released from prison.

My heart swelled with pride and relief that felt shameful. I didn’t want the token to have such a profound effect on the image of him I’d already crafted in my mind. Lord knew I didn’t need any more reasons to idolize him. And, at the end of the day, I’d only discovered this information by happenstance.

Part of respect, I decided, meant ignoring the way that fate seemed to push us together. If Spencer ever wanted my opinion on his sobriety or strength, surely, he would just ask. So, I slipped the chip back into the pocket and made my way back to him without worry for what it meant.

While I had no worries, Spencer was another story. I’d barely even made it through the door when he saw me. All of the papers he’d been holding immediately fell from his hands the same way the coffee had fallen from mine.

“Oh no! My clumsiness was contagious!” I laughed, bolting over to help him only to find his face an unhealthy shade of red. He chuckled back but said nothing else as he scrambled to pick up the loose-leaf that had splayed itself all over the floor.

Once we were back on our feet and as collected as we could be considering the circumstances of the morning thus far, his eyes met mine again. His cheeks were still flushed, unable to focus on anything specific and choosing to traverse my body the same way his hands had on Halloween.

“Sorry,” he mumbled in a way that made me wonder if he knew I could hear him, “I was distracted by how unfair it is that you look better in my clothes than I do.”

It was my turn to be flustered, but Spencer didn’t let the moment drag on. He tore himself away from me in every sense of the word, marching past me and halfway exiting the room before he found the courage to look at me again.

“Are you ready to head to class?” he asked as if it were an option.

I suppose to him, it was. For a second I imagined what the future would hold for us if I’d said no. What would he have done if I begged him to stay with me, instead? What if we rebelled against expectation and remained locked away in his office until we grew tired of one another? What if we never did?

My mind filled with fantasies of Spencer’s hands freely feeling my skin the way his clothes could. I could hear soft, breathy sounds of desire shaped like my name. For all of my inexperience, he would still find me intoxicating. He would grow drunk on me the same way a child finds endless joy in sweets that really ought to make them sick.

Then again, maybe he had grown used to the sugar. Maybe he wanted something more mature, a bitterness like molasses that was only earned from years I hadn’t had yet.

Regardless, I couldn’t really get into any of that. Instead, I just flashed a very awkward thumbs up to the man fifteen years my elder when I droned, “Sure am, Professor man.”

As stupid as it felt to do something so juvenile, the smile he gave was worth it.

“Alright then, Bunny,” he answered with his own little peace sign, “Let’s hop along.”

——————————————————

It hadn’t even been a week since I saw her, scantily clad in the plush, socially acceptable equivalent of lingerie. It’d been even less time since I admitted my own weakness to her. I’d replayed the memories of her visceral responses to my touch enough times that I should be sick of it. But there was no tiring of her.

I considered deleting the photos she’d sent me, convinced that it was cruel to keep them when she’d only sent them while inebriated and undoubtedly exhausted beyond belief.

But when I woke up in the morning, my stomach still reeling from the knowledge of what I’d done, all that she’d sent was a curious collection of emotes and a very brief note.

“Oops!” she’d written, “Bad bunny?”

I put that phrase out of my mind immediately, unable to handle the way it incited the desire for destruction in my veins.

“I’m always glad to hear that you are safe.”

That was the end of the conversation, and I was grateful for that much. Even the few words we’d exchanged would haunt me until I saw her again. Of course, the torture ended there, but only for a few seconds before it was replaced with other images and words.

It’d been hours since I’d found her flailing about half-naked in the hall while uttering rushed curses that sounded too crude for her lips. It’d been hours since I felt the soft skin of her lower back and became lost in an entirely different set of fantasies.

It’d been even less time since I saw her standing at my door, pulling on the sleeves of my sweater and staring at me with nervous, shifty glances. Completely unaware of just how beautiful she was in her simplicity. How much more torturous it was to see her wearing my clothes than any lustful suffering that lingerie or nudity could elicit.

I thought that it would get better throughout the day, but it didn’t. It only got worse.

I’d stepped out of my office for barely half an hour, but I returned to find her curled up on the plush chair. Her shoes were slipped off, revealing colorful socks that clashed with every other neutral color she wore. It somehow made me want her even more.

I stayed stuck for a few seconds longer, watching her with bated breath and shameless admiration. She was so caught up in the papers on her lap that she didn’t even notice my presence until the door clicked shut. It was then that she turned to see me, allowing a smile to blossom across her face despite eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“What’s all of this?” she asked, gesturing to the collection of bags hanging from my wrists.  

“Did you know…” I started before my heart stopped at how she always leaned forward with excitement whenever I started a sentence that way, “that food is one of the best ways to solve a terrible Monday?”

“Which scientific study did you get that from?”

I paused again, debating telling her the many studies that would support such a theory, but then decided against it. Instead, I sought out her laughter and childlike joy that always brought out the best of her.

“Garfield,” I answered.

Sure enough, the office filled with the melodious sound of her happiness. I moved as quietly as I could, thinking back to when I was younger and thought of how powerful bottled laughter would be if I could capture it. Hers would surely right so many wrongs.

“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to, but I figure it’s the least I could do.”

She approached me to assist before I’d even made it to my desk, and although I thought her hands were far too soft to be bothered with something like this, I allowed her to help.

“You could do nothing, you know. It was my own fault.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

She laughed again, shier and shrinking into the sweater as she tried to find her place in such a domestic activity as sharing a meal with me in private. I thought of how it was a taste of my dreams.

Because as often as I did fantasize about her, undone, bare-skinned, and defenseless to my desires, I just as often envisioned her just like this. In fact, I found those fantasies more dangerous. They couldn’t be written off as mere lust. They were another, scarier thing.

“Well, lucky you I am an exhausted, broke grad student, so free food will always win me over,” she muttered, half-sarcastically but just sad enough to bother me.  

“Duly noted,” I said.

I hid away the promises I wanted to make. That if she were mine, she would want for nothing. That I would give her everything she needed to bloom. That I would prune away any neighboring flower that dared get in her way or block the sunlight. There would be no need to worry of predators or pollinators intruding, because she would belong to me and only me.

I would be her earth, her rain, and her sun. I would be surely and shamelessly selfish.

Her shoulders rose with a cheeky, excited little giggle once she had collected her food. I wanted nothing more than to let her enjoy it to her heart’s content… but there was a problem.

“Nuh-uh, no way,” I chuckled before she had a chance to return to the chair with her precarious paper plate, “Get in the other chair.”

Her face scrunched up, bouncing back and forth between the two seats in the room like she’d heard something so strange that it must have been a mistake.

“Wh— your chair?”

“I will not have you ruining another shirt today,” I explained. It caused the confusion to quickly shift to an embarrassed frustration within seconds. Just as she opened her mouth to protest my teasing, I continued with something I knew would tie her tongue until she could no longer argue.

“If you’re so worried about what they’ll say when you show up in my shirt, just think of how they’ll talk if they catch you wearing nothing.”

That stubborn little thing still tried. Her mouth floundered, strange sounds of protest starting but never finishing until she gave up. She sulked over to the seat with an odd amount of self-satisfaction. She settled into my space as comfortably as she always did. With an ease that was almost unsettling to my tired, tortured heart.

Swapping places with her for that little bit of time was a good idea. I hadn’t expected that it would bring me as much serenity as it did. My usually busy lips kept their focus on the food, opting to listen to her ramble about any and everything that came to mind.

It wasn’t until she was fifteen minutes into an explanation on her paper that I realized how little I’d tried to learn about her life outside of me. Whether it was self-preservation or narcissism, I’d never decided. But what I was certain of was that it had been a brutal form of self-sabotage.

Because as I sat there, watching her clumsily, excitedly swinging her fork and proving my point that it had been a good decision to give her the desk, I saw her for in a different light than before.

She was not just a beautiful, mysterious flower peeking through the concrete. She was the trembling giant, the clonal colony of thousands of quaking aspen trees. An extravagant network of roots that flowed far beyond the seed that started them.

This sprout might be new, but her soul was ancient and celestial, wise and immortal.

“Who knows?” she sighed, coming to a natural conclusion of a story I had almost missed while lost in daydreams and metaphors, “Maybe one day I’ll be a professor, too.”

“You’d be good at it.”

For once, it felt like she accepted the compliment without a fight. I considered it progress all the way up until she shot back a thinly veiled taunt.

“Thanks. Means a lot from someone who has 4 stars on rate my professor!”

“Don’t forget the chili pepper,” I jokingly returned.

“Not sure I’d get one of those.”

I knew that my disagreement wouldn’t amount to much in the grand scheme of things, so I opted for a slightly-self-centered flattery instead.

“Just show up in that outfit,” I said with a nod that barely hid my actual intention of focusing my eyes on the rest of her, “you’ll be golden.”

“You gonna let me borrow it in ten years?” she hummed.

It was a dangerous proposition, an implication that made the pitter-pattering in my chest unbearable. Rather than chasing her down the rabbit hole of fantasies, I just chuckled before I answered, “You know how to find me.”

Then it happened again. Her face slowly changed, growing from a cautious optimism to a yearning. A subtle hint of words left unsaid. And although she wet her lips and set down her fork, the words never came out. They stayed stalled in her throat, and there was no discernible way for me to drag them out of her without hurting the both of us.

When a loud knock resounded through the room, the thought ended altogether.

“Come in,” I grimly announced, recognizing the intrusive sound as the death rattle for whatever might have been said.

As the door opened, I realized the same time (y/n) did that we had forgotten that the rest of the outside world wasn’t familiar with our dynamic. They didn’t have the backstory of how she’d perched herself on my chair with her shoes off and wearing my clothes.

Torn between scrambling to take more socially acceptable positions and the knowledge that our hurry would make us look even more suspicious, we both opted to remain frozen in place like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming train.

When the door opened, however, I was somewhat relieved to see someone I found completely unthreatening. My closest colleague, a woman that should really terrify me all things considered, seemed mostly perplexed when she found a young girl in my seat.

She quickly turned to me, drawing out her words as she asked, “Oh. I’m sorry, am I... interrupting something?”

“No, what can I help you with, Candy?”

“I was hoping we could talk about my current paper proposal.”

She paused, and I took the moment to follow her glower to the flower still stationary behind my desk. (Y/n) stared back, seemingly frightened by the presence of the other Professor.  

“If you’re busy with... office hours…” Candy muttered before turning back to me, “we can always set up a meeting for a better time.”

Before I could address the possible tension or implication, the girl at my desk sprung to action, clearing off any sign of her presence as she spoke.

“You know, I actually need to get going.”

“Are you sure?”

She didn’t look at me when she answered, “Yeah, I’m sure your papers are more important.”

If I’d turned back to Candy, I might have seen the condescending scowl that was driving her away. If I’ve had any inclination or desire to look at Candy, I would have realized that (y/n) wasn’t trying to escape from her connection to me. She was just trying to get out of my way.

It didn’t make it any harder to watch her leave. I took solace in the fact that she held tighter to my cardigan, trusting me to keep her warm by proxy as she ventured back into the real world. The world where we couldn’t be in peace.

“Thanks for the advice, Professor,” she said before she left, “You were right. As usual.”

One last smile was shared, somber but sobering. A necessary break from the intimacy of the moment.

“See you in class.”

The office felt so much duller without her radiance, but my disappointment would have to wait. As much as I actually didn’t mind the world knowing how my heart hurt from her absence, I knew that it was best I didn’t let it impact her academic career.

“Sorry again for the intrusion,” my colleague said in a much happier voice.  

“It’s not a problem at all.”

She must have noticed the way it sounded like a lie, because her tone quickly shifted back to a slightly disgruntled confusion.

“I didn’t realize she was your student, too. What class is she in?”

It was juvenile, really, the way my heart fluttered so ridiculously at the mere mention of her existence. The excuse to discuss her again.

“Oh, did she not tell you?”

Candy just shook her head with a blatantly false smile.

“Unsurprisingly modest,” I laughed, making my way back over to my seat and running my fingers over the wooden armrests like it would be the same as touching her ghost, “She’s my TA.”

“Oh… I see.”

“She was the only one who would put up with me,” I offered with a chuckle. Self-deprecating humor was the only reliable personality trait I had. It was also, unfortunately, one that most women in my life despised and refused to let sit.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

It sounded less sweet coming from her. I wrote it off as a product of the differences in their species. While the hummingbird of a girl who’d just flittered away was used to only drinking the sweetest, purest nectar, the bird of prey who’d entered relied on the work of others to gather the sweetness before they were devoured.

That wasn’t to say she was cruel; hawks are as much a miracle of nature as hummingbirds. I simply related to one more than the other. I understood one while the other remained a mystery. And I loved mysteries more than myself.

“So, you wanted to talk about your paper?”

“Oh! Yes,” she chirped, passing the packet over to me now that I’d found my way back to what she probably deemed my rightful place. “The conference is coming up so much faster than I anticipated, and I would love to hear your opinions on my first draft.”

I’d already started to read the first page when she spoke again, uncharacteristically bashful and anxious, “Since we’ll be presenting together, I figured...”

“Yeah, no problem at all,” I interrupted, not wanting her to dwell nor expand on the thought of us doing anything together any more than necessary, “I can send you mine.”

It felt curt, blunt, and off putting when I said it, but she didn’t take it as such.

“Wonderful. You have such a unique voice when you’re writing. It’s very refreshing.”

Immediately, a memory appeared at the forefront of my mind and led to a laugh that I couldn’t contain. Candy seemed pleased at the sound, and I felt the need to explain.

“Thanks. (Y/n) likened it to Ray Bradbury at one point, although in different and less flattering words.”

I could hear her clear as day, quoting my words with an overdramatized effect before laughing, ‘Pack it up, Bradbury, you’ve got more science stuff to explain.’

Of course, we both found her laughter-ridden explanation of the ‘meme’ far funnier than the original joke. She was probably the only person in the world who never seemed bothered by explaining everything to me ad nauseam.

“She is... certainly a choice as a TA,” Candy strained upon scrutinizing the smile that had returned to my face for the first time since (y/n)’s departure, “Will she be joining us at the conference?”

But then the guilt returned, wiping the smile from my face and replacing happy memories with deviant thoughts and fears.

“Oh... you know, I haven’t asked her.”

“That’s perfectly alright! I think we’ll do just fine without her.”

“Right...” I whispered, glancing back down at the stack of papers in my hand before setting it in the tray designated for (y/n). “I’ll have her look at your paper just in case.”

A lull in the conversation stretched past the point of comfort for both of us, and I glanced up at the woman I actually felt guilty for ignoring in place of fantasies that would probably never come to be. She hadn’t even done anything to warrant my disregard. She was an attractive woman — as beautiful as she was brilliant, really — she had worked very hard to garner my trust and academic collaboration. At one point, I had considered her one of the few potential candidates for something more than a purely academic partner.

But there was something about the way she looked at the honeyed girl that made my hair stand on end. A defensiveness and instinct that couldn’t be ignored.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No, that was all,” she said as she broke from what I presumed to be her own daydream, “I hope your semester keeps going well.”

“Thanks, I hope yours does, too.”

I meant it, despite the aforementioned concern. I wished her well in the semester for both selfless and selfish reasons. I wished her well because she deserved it, certainly. But the other reason, the larger one, was that I hoped she would remain distracted. I hoped that she didn’t notice the way I would slip away from her affections to chase those from a more interesting challenge. One that remained mysterious, with hair covered in pollen and lips sweet with ambrosia.

“I’ll talk to you soon, Dr. Reid.”

I failed to respond to her again before the door shut because my hands were already busy with rekindling contact with another.

“I have a proposition for you, Bunny.”

“Sounds ominous. I’m in.”  

The fact that the response came before I could even shut off the display was so characteristic of her that I had to laugh.

“You haven’t even heard it yet,” I observed, to which she once again immediately responded, “Your point being?”

“I’m afraid this is an obligation that does require some expansion before agreement.”

Her response was slower, then, and I could almost see her with a slight panic and overwhelming curiosity that grew stronger by the second.

“Ominous and vaguely unsettling,” she said.  

I considered drawing it out further, letting her imagination truly run wild with the possibilities. But then I realized that if she thought hard enough about it, she might reach the same place that had immediately come to my mind.

“Would you like to attend the upcoming conference with me?” I relented, almost stopping there but then frantically tagging on the conditions I knew would be most likely to cause hesitation. “You’d have your own room, of course. The department and I will help with funds.”

But, as it turned out, I didn’t need to be worried.

“A cheap weekend away from school where I get to be a nerd with you?” she sent with another set of small, smiling faces I was only just starting to understand, “Of course I’m going to say yes, Professor!”

“Perfect. I’ll arrange it.”

“I can’t wait!”

Although I felt the same, I forced myself to end contact again. I put my phone out of reach to prevent myself from spoiling any more of my fantasies than I already had. I didn’t need her to second-guess the possibilities of a weekend away together now that she’d already agreed to it.

The thought alone sparked guilt anew. Through the entire interaction, I’d infused each word with a charge that shouldn’t have been. Each line was far more provocative than it needed to be.

It was just an academic conference. Most people found them terribly dull, not to mention physically exhausting. It would not be a time away like most couples dreamed of because we were not a couple in any sense of the word.

Yet… I couldn’t help but feel that perhaps there weren’t as many differences as one might think. Because while yes, most people would be bored, I didn’t think Bunny would be. Clandestine meetings made between conference meetings sounded exactly like the kind of dreams we would share.

I believed it so strongly that my mind had already drafted several narratives that would suit her. I pictured her and I sharing company in public, unafraid of public displays of affection — innocent, childish kinds, of course — because we were miles away from those who might care.

That drunken, lust-inducing, half-lidded gaze from the week before would return. Except this time, I would taste the wine on her tongue, my hands sliding not over fluffy fabric, but the same skin that I’d felt for the first time that morning.

Behind our door, I would teach her so many things. Things that she would have begged me for. Things that others would see written on her skin in the shape of my fingers and mouth. Things that she would carry with a straighter back and dripping down her legs.

I didn’t just want to destroy her. I wanted to break her so that I could build her back with gold-laced lacquer. She would be my kintsugi creation full of sugar and honey, just imperfect enough that the sticky residue of her sweetness would slip through the cracks to coat everything she touched.

And then she would touch me, and I might finally feel like I deserved anything at all.

——————————————————

| Part Five |

[babyboibucky]

Salt, Sugar and Viruses

Pairing: Office!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’ve been secretly making coffee for Bucky at the office.

Word Count: 1,962

Warnings: Two idiots just doing idiot things

A/N: This was done in a haste so I kinda hate it lol but I can’t get this story out of my head and thanks to @bitchassbucky for pushing me to write a full fic of this 🥰 luv u 🥺

MAIN MASTERLIST

"You have a crush on Barnes' grumpy ass?!" Sam choked out.

You angrily hushed him and frantically looked around the pantry to make sure that your secret was still safe. Fortunately, only you, Sam and Nat were inside having your respective afternoon breaks.

"What? He's nice. And cute." you told Sam as you stirred your coffee, smiling to yourself at the thought of your office crush, Bucky.

"How'd you even meet him, he works all the way at the IT department." Sam asked.

Nat snorted recalling the encounters she witnessed for the past few months. Some of which were unintentional but most of them? You had carefully planned out just so you could come up with an excuse to request for Bucky's assistance.

"She might have gotten viruses in her computer once...or twice. Or thrice." Nat teased.

The first time you met Bucky was when most of your files suddenly got corrupted. It was hella embarrassing because you didn't know shit about how computers worked and well, you've been illegally downloading torrents since the office's internet connection was a gift from the internet gods. Without a doubt, your computer was a nest for viruses.

Bucky showed up in your floor that morning and you almost sunk into your seat from shame. You'd heard the IT Department complain about everybody else in the office messing up their computer systems. When you turned around, Bucky greeted you with a charming smile and soft hello. You could still remember how he felt when he stayed behind you as you sat on your chair, bending over to take your mouse in his hand.

God, he smelled so good you almost turned your head to nuzzle your face into his neck.

He was very soft-spoken you realized; Bucky was kind enough to walk you through the process and to be honest, you couldn't recall a damn thing he said. Something about firewalls? And shields? Whatever, you didn't really listen. You just stared at Bucky as he explained everything, solving your problem in less than fifteen minutes.

Since then, your crush for Bucky grew bigger. You'd entered the elevator together a couple of times, shared small conversations that made your heart flutter. When those little moments didn't seem enough, you started your devious plan to fuck up your computer a bit. By the third time Bucky fixed your computer, he was already comfortable enough to tease you for being a "virus magnet".

"Hello? Young lady, come back to earth." Sam snapped his finger right in front of your face, interrupting your thoughts.

You clicked your tongue at him and swatted his hand away. "If you ever tell this to anyone, Wilson. You are dead." you warned, poinitng a finger at him.

Sam rolled his eyes, "It's so unfair how he's kind to you. Last time I requested for his assistance he got all smug and grumpy at me." he complained.

Nat shook her head in amusment, "That's because you've been downloading porn. You know the IT department can access our browser histories, right?"

You choked on your coffe, "WHAT?!"

Nat narrowed her eyes at you, "You been up to no good for you to react like that?"

You faceplamed, "I've been stalking his Facebook account."

Sam chortled, "What are you, in high school? Jesus, calm down. You're gonna be fine. Why don't you just tell him you like him?"

You made a face, "I'm not Nat to have the guts to do that."

Nat hummed, bringing her mug to the sink to wash it. "Why don't you start by making him coffee?"

"I don't know how he likes his coffee."

You received a pointed look from both your friends. You groaned in defeat, "Okay, fine. I know how Bucky likes his coffee."

Nat smirked, "Stalker."

-

Bucky always arrived in the office half an hour before nine in the morning. This gives him time to settle into his cubicle, buy a sandwich at the stall downstairs and to make himself a cup of coffee. It was his daily routine and upon going back to his desk after buying his breakfast sandwich, Bucky was surprised to see a cup of newly brewed coffee on his desk.

He looked around but there were no signs of anyone. There wasn't even a note of some sort. Carefully, he brought the cup to his face and inhaled its scent. Shrugging, he took a tiny sip.

-

"How's the little secret admirer doing?" Nat asked, grabbing a chair and sitting down beside you.

You deadpanned, "I've been leaving him his coffee for an entire week now and nothing's happened yet."

Nat frowned, "Are you kidding me? Why would you expect for something to happen when you haven't been leaving any clues?" she said.

"I'm shy, okay?! Maybe I should hide somewhere, check for his reaction. See whether I have a chance." you shrugged.

It was stupid of you to leave the coffee on Bucky's desk. You never stayed to wait for him. You just left it there without a note or anything that would even give him a clue about you and your little crush on him. You knew the reason why, of course. You were afraid of rejection. Sometimes, you'd feel like you have a chance with him since he was always so kind and warm to you. Not to mention, everyone in the office knows him to be grumpy but around you, he was totally the opposite of that.

But then again, maybe he was just nice to you because you were nice to him too.

-

One morning after leaving Bucky his coffee, you finally decided to leave him a note. You ran back to your cubicle to get a post-it and a pen. Before you could even walk around your desk, you spotted Bucky headed over to the pantry, the cup of coffee in his hand.

"Fuck, okay. Maybe I should just directly ask him out?" you thought to yourself.

You quickly followed Bucky into the pantry and almost whined when you saw that Sam was inside as well. You widened your eyes at him, signalling for him to leave but Sam was preoccupied on observing Bucky who seemed to be in a bad mood.

"Rough morning?" Sam just had to ask as you awkwardly stood by the doorway, finding the right timing to butt in.

Bucky's forehead creased as he let out a huff, "Rough weeks, actually." he answered.

You opened your mouth to say something comforting, wanting to lift Bucky's spirits up but he turned around and glanced at you and then back to Sam.

"Does anyone hate me in this office?" Bucky asked.

You and Sam exchanged looks, both of utter confusion before shaking your heads in unison. "Why'd you ask?" Sam asked.

Bucky lifted the cup of coffee that you made, "Someone's been making me coffee." he stated.

You cleared your throat, "...is it bad?" you asked.

Bucky made a face, "Terrible actually."

Ouch.

"I mean, the first time I saw it I was actually flattered. And then I took a sip and it's just...salty." Bucky said, pouring the coffee into the sink before throwing it into the bin.

Sam's head snapped towards your direction, his face almost red from biting back a laugh. Your face heated up at the realization that you've been putting salt into Bucky's coffee instead of sugar. All this time. You wanted to disappear right then and there. And Sam had to be the one to witness your huge failure.

"I thought it was a mistake since the next day, there was another coffee on my desk. I tried it out and it's still salty. It lasted a week, you guys. And I was dumb enough to keep on tasting it in hopes that it might have been a genuine mistake. But now I'm starting to think that someone hates me that much to fuck my coffee up." Bucky explained, face scrunched up into a mixture of irritation and curiosity.

Sam failed to stifle his laughter and exploded, "Funniest shit I've ever heard." he told Bucky before standing up and making his way to the door where you stood.

Your face was red and if the salt and sugar mishap was already humiliating enough, Sam decided to make things even worse for you.

"You really need to check the labels before pouring shit into his coffee." and with that, Sam gave your shoulder a squeeze before leaving the pantry.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself. When you opened them, Bucky was staring at you with an expression you couldn't paint.

"Did you...were you the one leaving me coffee?" he asked.

You secretly pinched yourself in the arm to check whether you were just dreaming. Fuck, you hoped you were having a nightmare but the pain that you felt made it clear that you totally fucked up.

You nodded in embarrassment.

"You hate me that much?" Bucky asked in disbelief, as if he was offended that out of all people, it had to be you.

You quickly shook your head, "No, God no! I just...it's because I..." you stammered, trying to find the courage to spit out the words you've been dying to tell Bucky.

Bucky tilted his head, "Because you...?" he urged.

Your hands balled into fists as you let out another deep breath. Bucky probably hates you right now, but whatever. This was your only chance and to hell, you were going to confess.

"Because I like you?"

You didn't think that Bucky's confused look could even turn more...well, confused. But he was looking at you incredulously as though you've grown a second head, or a third head.

"You like me so you decided to put salt in my coffee?" he asked again.

You honestly didn't know who sounded even more stupid now, you or Bucky. Because if he still didn't understand what was going on, he was dense as fuck.

"No!" you explained. "I wanted to make you a decent cup of coffee but I guess I was too careless and didn't realize that I've been putting in salt instead of sugar." you said.

Bucky didn't say anything after that. He just stared at you, but he didn't seem confused anymore. If any, he looked like he was processing the entire situation.

"You like me." he stated again.

Will your embarrassment ever end?!

"Yes, Bucky. And I messed up my chance and you know what? I'm just going to show myself out and leave you alone." you told him and forced a fake grin before attempting to walk out.

A hand gripped your wrist, pulling you back into the pantry. This time, Bucky was the one who looked embarrassed.

"I might have...done something pretty stupid too." he said, avoiding your gaze as he rubbed the back of his neck.

You eyed him suspiciously, "What do you mean?"

"I uhh...I did something to your computer...the day before you requested for my assistance for the first time." Bucky admitted shyly.

It was your turn to get muddled at Bucky's confession. "But why?" you asked.

Bucky offered a shy smile, "Because I've been seeing you around the building and thought you were cute."

And then everything clicked. It was a light bulb moment for the both of you.

"Oh. Ohhh okay. I see." you said before suddenly breaking into laughter.

Bucky joined you and scratched his head, "I guess we're both idiots." he said, placing his hands inside his pockets as he stared at you.

"This went...way more interesting than I thought." you said with a nod.

There was a pause before you decided to speak up, "So, do you want coffee?"

Bucky beamed at you as he nodded, "As long as you'll use sugar this time."

-

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[todoscript]

SEQUEL TO  “don’t forget it”

SYNOPSIS: One week after accidentally blowing you off on your date, Bakugou Katsuki seeks your forgiveness.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

genre: fluff, very little angst

word count: 5.4k+

warnings: none really accept maybe a character sustaining an injury

author’s note: hellooooo this is a very very very late part 2 of my don’t forget it drabble that many people asked for! i hope this lived up to your expectations and was worth the wait!

Since the events that led you to leave Bakugou’s room in a fit of bitterness after attempting to penetrate that thick head of his, he hadn’t been able to speak to you for a week.

It goes without saying he did his best to chase you down the hallway from his room and toward the elevator the moment he realized his faults. But at the stink eye you shot him through the minimizing slit of the elevator doors sliding into place, he knew he had no right to reconcile with you after pulling a stunt like that. Nor did he think you’d want to spare him any more words to begin with. It was clear you were done arguing with him.

“C’mon man, it’s probably best to let her cool down before you try to make up with her,” was the advice Kirishima offered when Bakugou returned to his room, disgruntled as he heavily fell back into his seat next to the desk. He did the bare minimum to acknowledge his friend’s words with a grunt before resuming tutoring the redhead, his method of teaching suddenly harsher than how it began thanks to his soured mood. He lapsed the day away by pounding Kirishima with problems upon problems against that hard noggin of his, both literally and figuratively.

At the very least, Kirishima earned himself a passing grade on their exam as a result of his hard work and their rigorous tutoring sessions. But what followed Bakugou’s and your relationship was still undetermined.

Days later and you were relentless in giving him the cold shoulder.

Bakugou was met with nothing but empty glances and blatant disinterest whenever he crossed your path. It felt like the wall you slotted between him grew another layer at each encounter, your defenses so impenetrable, it could give Kirishima’s quirk a run for its money. He couldn’t so much as utter a word in your direction without you effectively dodging every possible interaction in favor of joining another conversation nearby.

At first, Bakugou shrugged it off, calling your “childish attitude” unwarranted for something he thought was incredibly trivial. In his eyes, it was just an ordinary date at some run-of-the-mill restaurant he just happened to suggest to you because he took a liking to their spicy food. Not like it was some fancy dinner reservation serving caviar on dry toast beside a pretty, city night skyline. To him, it was nothing special.

However, as the week continued to roll by, it became clear to him how much he hurt you due to his selfishness. In a hangout with the Bakusquad, he learned that you apparently told Mina, along with the rest of the girls, everything during one of your girls’ nights. Which included the events prior to your heated argument in Bakugou’s dorm. And Mina, being just as peeved as you were at how Bakugou stood you up that day, had to let the blond know of the damage he’d done.

.

.

“I swear, Bakugou Katsuki, I know you can be an asshole sometimes—”

“Make that all the time,” Sero quietly adds in the middle of Mina’s rant while he lounges backward on Kaminari’s bed. If it wasn’t for his current dilemma, Bakugou would have elbowed him in the back of the head.

“—but this is crossing the line!” she finishes. Her arms are thrown exaggeratedly over her chest. The amber surrounded by the black scleras of her eyes points a beady look at the ash-blond crisscrossed on the floor between Kirishima and Kaminari.

“Poor girl sat there for hours waiting for you, only to find out she got blown off because you couldn’t even properly check your reminders!” She paces back and forth in the room, feet excessively stepping across the floor as she’s engulfed by the emotions she feels for her friend. “What’s worse? She comes back and finds out you’ve been doing your own thing with Kirishima the whole time!”

“Hey! It’s not like we were playing around! We were actually having a very serious study grind, thank you very much,” the redhead immediately clarifies. Though his explanation doesn’t alleviate Bakugou’s case in the slightest, who pounds his palms against the surface of the table they’ve gathered around.

“Look. I fucking get it, Ashido. I screwed up, okay?! Now what the fuck do you want me to do about it?!” he exclaims, anger overpowering his voice, but it does little to deter Mina.

“Fix it, obviously!” she quips back with equal fierceness, leaning in eye level with Bakugou.

“And how do you propose I do that, Raccoon Eyes? Hah?” Repositioning his elbow to rest on the table, he leans his cheek against his hand. “Y/n won’t even let me within five fucking feet in front of her and you still expect me ‘fix this’?”

Despite the situation weighing heavily on his shoulders, no immediate answer is bestowed upon him. That is, except the obnoxiously loud crinkle of a chip bag popping open next to Bakugou that cleaves into the scene like a record scratch. As if unable to read the mood in his own room, Kaminari fishes a chip to throw in his mouth, stirring the awkward silence into tension.

“Wow, Bakugou. I know you’re bad with girls and all, but you really messed up this time,” he remarks. His voice is slightly muffled as he munches his chips, continuing to wrinkle the bag for more. It incites a vein to swell on Bakugou’s forehead. He amasses all the willpower within him not to blast the bag of chips to ash, and the boy alongside it.

“If you dunce faces are just gonna sit here and throw salt in my wound then I’m outta here.”

“No, wait!” Kirishima catches Bakugou’s wrist before he fully lifts himself off the floor. “Come on, Bakugou, I’m sure we can think of something! We just need to put our heads together! Right, guys?” he assures. Finding it hard to deny his friend’s hardened conviction, Bakugou gives Kirishima the benefit of the doubt, albeit with slumped shoulders and a tentative raise of his brow as he slowly sits back down.

“Right! Everyone, let’s get some brainstorming done!” Mina yells encouragingly.

The atmosphere of Kaminari’s room is consumed by moderately thoughtful silence for the next ensuing minutes. A few hums pass, followed by an exchange of contemplative looks as four of the five rack their heads together to uncover a solution. The one in need of help only hunches in his seat, waiting with mild disinterest.

“Oh hey, don’t we have hero training with All Might tomorrow?” Sero is the first to comment, scooting to the edge of the blond’s bed.

“Yeah. So?”

“He said we were going to work on group exercises this time around. You know, teamwork and stuff,” he explains further.

At that, Mina snaps her fingers, the work of a brilliant idea flickering in her head. “Sero, that’s it! Tomorrow, during training, we’ll just form a group together with Y/n! After all, she’ll have to talk to Bakugou if you two are on the same team!” She claps her hands in front of her, her enthusiasm rippling through her body and shown energetically with each raise of her voice. “Then, while the rest of us ‘split up’ to cover more ground, that will be your chance to make everything better with Y/n! It’s genius!”

“You missed one fucking crucial detail, Pinky,” Bakugou gruffs. “That will only work if Y/n doesn’t join another group. The moment she sees I’m on yours, she’s not even going to hesitate making a u-turn.”

“Worry not~ I’ll just text all the girls except Y/n about the plan later and ask them to help sort everyone out!” She solves the problem with relative ease—quick as a click of her phone lighting up and finger sliding open to her messages.

“Uh, another thing though.” Kirishima raises his hand to spare his concern. “All Might says we’ll be splitting into groups of five at most, but there’s already five of us here.”

There’s a brief moment of deadpanning until Mina speaks casually. “Oh, that’s right. Kaminari. Take one for the team and make sure to join another group, ‘kay?” She settles without batting a lash.

Kaminari almost chokes on a mouthful of chips. “H-Huh?! What?! Why me?!!” he sputters.

“Because you’ve been eating chips this entire time and haven’t contributed to anything.”

“Hey, I offered the room, didn’t I?!” He tries justifying but is inevitably rejected by Mina’s wagging finger.

“Ah-ah, no complaints! Besides, it’s only one day of training. If we want this dilemma between Bakugou and Y/n fixed then we all have to play our part, got it?” Mina finalizes with a firm point of her finger nearly grazing the tip of the blond’s nose as he leans back to avoid it, eyebrows scrunched in discontent at the role he’s been reduced to.

“Alllllright!” Kirishima springs from his seat with outstretched arms and tightened fists. “Operation: Get Y/n to Forgive Explosion Boy is underway!”

“Dude, that’s a terrible name!” Sero laughs but rises from the bed to join the redhead’s cheer alongside Mina, the group already in high spirits.

Despite rolling his eyes at their swell of confidence, Bakugou does not object to the state of things. As crazy as it sounds, one could almost decipher the cusp of a grin pulling the seams of his lips as a possible sign he’s actually all for this extravagant little plan. Quite a first for Bakugou, but then again, there’s not much else he can do in this situation except rely on his pack of chumps.

Meanwhile, Kaminari grumbles something beneath the salty grit between his teeth.

“Alright, can you all get out of my room now?”

.

.

The scowl etched on your face carries a strong air of disdain that dampens the mood around your teammates considerably. Well, no one should be surprised. With Bakugou standing across from you, staring into the void of your expression, it’s to be expected that you wouldn’t be happy with this outcome.

No, “unhappy” doesn’t quite do your circumstance justice. You are beyond livid.

You feel your eyebrow twitch as you try quivering your lips to form a tinge of a smile. Unfortunately, all that quickly falls apart when you suddenly recall the disaster of last week, triggered by an accidental glance at Bakugou’s mug.

Trying to simmer down, you release a mental sigh amidst the turmoil boiling inside you.

Okay, maybe you’re over-exaggerating. Maybe you’re still just a bit too bitter for your own good and letting your emotions get to you. But in a class of twenty or some students, how did you end up in a group with the one person you were actively trying to avoid?

The moment All Might gave everyone the go-ahead to form their teams for today’s training exercise, you swiftly made a beeline toward two particular star students. Midoriya and Todoroki.

It was simple really. Your experiences throughout the school year told you Bakugou planned on staying away from his rivals when it came to teamwork, regardless of whether you’re there or not. He’s a competitive ass whose goal is to beat anyone he deems a threat in his climb to be the number one hero. It’s only logical you partner with people he adamantly dislikes to evade him.

Yet it seems fate has other plans for you today. By the time you found yourself pacing over to the two students you had in mind, they’d already gone and picked their own group members, forming teams before you could even ask.

Your nose wrinkles like you’ve taken a whiff of something rancid. Or, to be more specific, something fishy. Hooking an arm around Mina’s elbow, you drag the pink-haired girl off to a corner somewhere while tilting your head back at the three other boys.

“Ex. Cuse. Us.” Your words sound as stiff as cardboard. It comes out in practically a hiss when your eyes cross Bakugou. Once you’re positive you’re out of earshot, you whip your head at Mina.

“Mina, what the hell? When you dragged me over here to form a group with you you didn’t tell me he’d be there,” you groan. Childish and petty as you may sound, you just couldn’t fathom the idea of confronting the boy so soon.

Mina holds her hands out, ready to rationalize the whole ordeal. “C’mon Y/n, this is actually an advantage for us! With us four plus you on our team, we’re sure to knock the rest of the other guys out during training today! I mean we showed pretty good teamwork together at the sports festival, didn’t we?”

Steadying your gaze, you hold a finger below your chin as you slowly buy into the explanation. The reasoning is there. It’s hard to argue against a case like that, fully aware that being on the same team as explosion boy will easily snag good results for you and your party. ‘Cause as much of an arrogant jerk as he is, you have to admit Bakugou Katsuki knows his way around hero action like the back of his grenade gauntlets.

“Besides it’s not like you could avoid him for the entire school year. I mean, you two are in the same class. It was only a matter of time before you had to—”

“I know, Mina,” you interject, not wanting the rest of her sentence about the inevitable fall to your ear. “I just… Agh, you know what I mean!” You ruffle your hands through your hair in confliction, unsure how to piece your thoughts together.

Tilting your head over Mina’s shoulder, you sneak a glimpse at Bakugou, watching him as he’s cast to the side with the others. He’s fending himself from Kirishima and Sero’s combined jokes, that usual look on his face sending glares at the two and yelling something you could almost pick up on if you honed your ears a bit more. Surprisingly, when his eyes meet yours for a split second, he stands there looking nonchalant again. Both of you immediately avert your gazes.

Mina pats your shoulder, bringing you back to the conversation at hand. “I know, I know, but after this, I’m sure you can go back to ignoring his ass. After all, it’s just one training exercise, right?” she says. As her words deliver some relief to your ill-timed situation, you give in with a sigh.

Unbeknownst to you, turning your back to Mina and striding toward the rest of your teammates again, you miss the small glint in her yellow eyes, along with the subtle gestures she aims at the three boys, waving her pointed thumbs over your head secretively.

“So I take it you’re on the team with us, Y/n?” Sero asks when the two of you return. You nod in reply and the boy flashes his pearly whites in a wide grin that Kirishima mirrors. He nudges Bakugou at his sides which you subtly catch in the far corner of your eye.

You raise a brow suspiciously at their fidgeting, wondering why having you on their team warrants such enthusiasm, but you’re thankful for their energy at least. Someone has to lift the atmosphere for this not to be a complete drag and Bakugou surely isn’t going to be the mood maker of the group.

The blond scoffs. “Yeah, well, if you dumbasses are going to form a team with me, you’ll follow under my leadership, got it?”

The three readily agree. Though you roll your eyes, you don’t challenge his position, considering no one else is that much up to the task as he is. You’ll simply have to deal with the fact that you’re forced to tread through the day under his leadership. So with no objections, the five of you walk back to the class, gathering around the entrance of today’s battlefield.

Jumping into the activity, All Might goes about explaining today’s lesson to the four sets of teams—consisting of a group exercise to heighten teamwork. The name of the game? Capture the flag.

In short, each team will be split off into different sections of the labyrinth where their assigned flag is stationed. The objective is to not only protect your flag from being stolen but also try and steal an opposing team’s flag from their base and escort it safely to your home field. Nice and simple.

Not long after All Might’s explanation, the gate to the training grounds opens and you all scatter off into your teams, navigating through the twists of the maze to locate your flags. Once your group situated themselves onto your home base, you assemble in a huddle to devise a strategy before the game starts.

“So what’s the plan?” Kirishima asks, eyes darting around his teammates until they rest on Bakugou—the team leader. The ash-blond crosses his arms, a confident sneer plastered on his face as he’s already thought of his plan of action the moment All Might announced the mission.

“Easy. I’m going straight to the front-lines to swipe one of those dumbasses’ flags. You lot are gonna stay here and guard ours until I come back.” He delivers the strategy in a matter-of-fact tone that you quickly don’t take a liking to. Your fist curls in irritation.

“What kind of a plan is that?” you question audaciously, your voice louder than you intended. “So you’re just going to do all the work while we sit around and wait for you?”

Bakugou grits his teeth, leaning further into the huddle to direct his senseless logic. “Look, it’s the fastest and most surefire way to snag our victory without sacrificing anyone,” he says. Playing over his words again, he finds it surprising he even chooses to offer his reasoning. Because if it were anyone other than you he was arguing with, he’s certain he’d leave it at that.

Knowing the current tension between you was a result of his misjudgment, it feels only right for Bakugou to make an effort in communication. He ignores the antsy expressions belonging to the others who signal from behind you to follow along with their original plan.

You don’t seem to catch the hint, nor do you buy into his ridiculous strategy. “Oh, so you’re that confident you won’t get taken out by the other team then?” you quip. As a result, Bakugou’s brows tighten at your noncompliance.

“I know how to take care of myself. You of all people should realize by now that no other nerd in this whole damn class can outmatch me.”

“And what about an ambush? How do you know they simply won’t anticipate your strategy and see you coming?” You fire another counterargument and the boy purses his lips, beginning to find this quarrel spiraling into a headache rather than a step in the direction of reconciliation.

While Sero and Kirishima stand there, shifting their heads back and forth throughout the fiery exchange, Mina speedily reacts. The gears of that cunning mind of hers click into place again.

“You know what, Y/n’s right. Why don’t you two go together then?” she proposes boldly. Her suggestion catches you by complete surprise. You veer in her direction with an incredulous look blown in your eyes.

Before you can open your mouth to protest, the two boys standing beside her immediately back her up.

“Hm, Mina has a point. The chances of you falling into a trap wouldn’t be much if you two work together,” Sero remarks.

Kirishima follows, “Yeah, you guys can watch each other’s backs while going to collect the flag! It’s safer to go in a pair than by yourselves I’d say.”

The three seem adamant about the idea, sharing equally content expressions, and with all that said, you find it hard to dig yourself out of this situation. In a way, you practically volunteered yourself after questioning Bakugou’s plan and doubting his abilities. The group only feels it’s right you come along as his support since you clearly must be worried about his well-being.

Pushing your objections down your throat, you reluctantly agree to tag along with the blond. What you find exceptionally shocking is how Bakugou doesn’t oppose these new conditions. Given his hard-headed temperament, you thought he would’ve scoffed and turned his back at being paired without notice, but no such things were happening here.

...Odd.

“Tch, whatever. Let’s get going then,” is all he gives, starting in the direction into the urban area of the training course.

You trail behind him. “Coming, Boom-Boy…” you mutter the last bit but don’t suppress the urge to let your words be known. Bakugou turns his head and gives you a look akin to an uptight six-year-old you just offended at your local playground. You shrug in response, a corner of your lip pinched upward. He doesn’t pick a fight over the nickname, but his eyebrows remain fiercely slanted, and coupled with his heavy steps and the excessive swinging of his gauntlet-clad arms, it tells you of his emotional constipation plain as day.

.

.

The journey toward the other teams’ flags is cloaked in strained silence and the physical gap between you two does not encourage any of you to speak up. At this point, both of your levels of annoyance for each other have mellowed out. Now it just feels... awkward—strange. You don’t see his expression, nor does he see yours. It feels like you’re being left in the dark, having only the back of Bakugou’s head to stare at the entirety of the way, and though you supposedly have his back, Bakugou feels precarious in this state as he trudges along at the front, not daring to turn his head to cross your eyes.

The ambiance is reminiscent of the ancient Greek legend of Orpheus and Eurydice. Where Bakugou walks through the depths of the underworld, seeking you out in hopes you’d join his side once again. If he turns around now and spills his thoughts to you too soon, he fears that your forgiveness would be whisked away, thoroughly beyond his reach, and replaced with your promises of retribution.

That was the eloquent version of the situation anyway. To put it bluntly, Bakugou was just impatient as hell to say something to you. The silence suffocates him to the point where the words are nearly about to be squeezed out of his throat, but he bites his lip to snuff out the urges.

The more he keeps them in, the more fidgety he becomes, hands itchy and mouth trembling with grit between his teeth. The idea of not letting his voice be heard was something Bakugou detested. Mainly because it was already such a challenge to even keep his mouth shut, given his fiery attitude and lack of patience.

Man, what the hell am I hesitating for? he asks himself, that outspoken side of him spurring him on.

Ah, screw the uncertainty, he thinks. If he doesn’t say anything now, then he won’t get to say anything ever.

Bakugou stops in his tracks, turning his head. Here goes nothing,

“Hey, Y/n, I–”

“Katsuki–”

Words collide into each other, jumbled and incoherent, which take you two by surprise as you meet each other’s furrowed gazes. It’s quiet as you both piece your way through this, eyes trained like you haven’t seen each other in months when the reality is that a week of bitterness has somehow made you act like strangers. The bewildered look crossing his features is foreign to you; you’ve never quite seen Bakugou as taken aback as he is now.

“You first,” you grant before Bakugou could mix up your words again. Even being given permission, the blond still isn’t sure what to say, his thoughts lost on him the moment his voice clashed with yours. He takes a deep breath, calming his senses and steadying his mind for what he wants to convey.

“Look, Y/n, I don’t know how to put this as nicely as I can,” he begins, tone consistent yet wary, assessing your expression, “but I know I fucked up and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you there all by yourself. I shouldn’t… have blown you off like that and forgotten about you.” He delivers this bluntly—honestly—as open as a boy of his nature can muster with arms spread out, willingly exposing him to his faults and your reprisals.

Looking at you, he finds your eyes are cast to the floor, assuming to be reflecting on his words carefully. After some deliberation, you come across the vermillion in his eyes.

“Frankly, I haven’t entirely forgiven you just yet. But I will say that despite how I’ve been acting, I’m not as mad at you as you think,” is what you give, and Bakugou would be lying to himself if he didn’t achieve relief at your statement. He mentally releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding throughout the exchange. However, you aren’t done yet.

“I just want you to understand what moments like those mean to me. It’s during that time where I can share my feelings and learn more about you—understand who you are,” you say. Bakugou latches onto every word. “And it goes both ways, you know. It’s hard to want to stay in a relationship with someone who doesn’t make an effort to make time for you.” It’s obvious you aim that comment at him as Bakugou’s eyes soften slightly hearing it. His calloused, glove-clad hands wrap into his palms. Man, he really was a jerk.

“Still… I know you’re making an effort to be sincere and that you’re genuinely sorry for what happened, especially considering how the others seem to have set this whole conversation up, right?” Bakugou winces over the Bakusquad’s ploy coming to light and makes a note not to follow along next time unless those dummies can scrape up a more elaborate plan.

Despite that, he presses on, “So, what does this mean?” A smile settles on the curve of your lips, sensing his impatience as his voice hastens you along.

“Well…” you begin, speech drawn out in anticipation as you step toward him to where Bakugou follows your movements. That is until he catches a few shadowy figures shifting around atop the small building behind you. Before you can open your mouth to continue, his instincts flare to life.

“Hey, look out!” he exclaims, already acting on his warnings by lunging forward to push you out of the way. Your breaths draw back into your lungs, your body thrust abruptly into the opposite direction. Landing on your butt, you wince at both the shock and the pain, but your whines desist when you witness Bakugou taking a force to the head as a result of coming to your aid.

“Katsuki!” you yell, immediately getting off the ground to rush to his side, but he can’t find it in himself to respond. Afflicted with a substantial blow to the crown of his head, his whole being throbs and his vision spins.

Fuck, is Y/n, okay? is the first thing on his mind, ignoring the liquid trickling down his forehead. His question is answered upon turning his head to meet your anxious expression—your eyes wide and lips quivering as they move to say words he can’t exactly make out beneath the pounding sensations consuming his mind. As he feels a set of arms wrap around him, he tries discerning his surroundings to form a reply, but can only capture bits and pieces.

“—tsuki! ...old… n!”

“...god—! I’m so dead!”

A sputter of words tangling together is the last he hears before his vision fades to black.

.

.

The next time Bakugou awakes, his eyes slowly sever open to come face-to-face with a blurry white ceiling. The lights assault his vision as his senses take time to adjust, unraveling the environment to realize he’s laying on a bed—a hospital bed to be precise.

He attempts lifting himself but is met with retaliation in the form of his pulsating head which he immediately flinches at. His hand goes to rub his scalp to soothe the ache and he finds bandages wrapped tightly around him. “What the hell happened?” The last he remembers is traversing the urban area with you for the capture the flag mission before finally confronting the subject that had been plaguing your minds for a week now. After that, he caught sight of some object descending toward you and before he had even realized it, his feet had moved on their own. Next thing he knows, he’s waking up in the nurse’s office with a headache from hell.

Wait, what about you? Were you okay? Surely, he had to have pushed you out of the way in time, right?

His head moves quicker than it should’ve, revealing the other hospital bed in the room to be unoccupied, vacant. He sighs and his relief is further bolstered by the door to the nurse’s room opening to unveil you unharmed with only your heavy look of concern troubling him.

“Katsuki, oh thank god, you’re okay!” you say, quickly pacing over to his side with a glass of water in hand. You leave it at his bedside, sitting before him. Gauging your appearance up and down, Bakugou tries making out even the smallest details.

“You aren’t hurt?”

You’re appalled he would ask this despite clearly being the one patched up in a hospital bed right now, and likely sporting some serious head trauma.

“Of course I am, you’re the one that lunged forward to protect me,” you tell him. Bakugou looks down at his lap, figuring that was what happened, but hearing it from you comforted him more than he thought. However, his comfort is wretched from him by the intense pressure persisting in his skull. Seeing him in pain, you urge him to lay down and rest.

“How the hell did I end up here anyway?”

You fidget with your fingers, hesitating on answering. At that, the blond lifts a brow, suspicious.

“Mineta… accidentally dropped a rock on your head.”

“...You gotta be joking, right?”

Bakugou leers hard, finding the reason he was out of commission to be a damn pebble hitting his head a detriment to his pride. And because of Mineta of all fucking people. Still, if he hadn’t acted as quickly as he did, you would’ve been the one to meet his fate instead, and he weighed this outcome to better than the former.

Then you explain how the teachers had temporarily intervened to bring his unconscious body to the nurse’s, where the old lady went about tending to his injury. Said she did her job and all he needed was to rest and let her quirk take fuller effect within that time.

“So did we win the game?” He switches the topic to today’s mission of capture the flag that was cut short on his end.

You shake your head, but at least grant him the benefit of knowing Mineta’s team ended up placing last. At that, his eyelids shut and he crosses his arms behind his bandaged head. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t my intention to win anyway.”

You give him a look. “...Liar.”

Bakugou cracks an eye open at you. “Hah? What do you mean I’m a fucking liar?”

“I know you, Katsuki. I dated you, after all. And the Katsuki that I dated is an arrogant, competitive jerk who thinks of being the best above all else.” Bakugou scrunches his nose, wondering what you’re implying through your... overly frank descriptions. “Still… he’s sweet and caring at times… and reliable when he needs to be,” you continue, tone softening that draws Bakugou in, “And the kind of guy I want to give a second chance to.”

Absorbing your words, Bakugou blinks. “S-Seriously?” He doesn’t mean to stutter, but the offer catches him off-guard. He replays what you just said. That’s what he heard, right? A second chance?

You giggle at how uncharacteristically astonished he sounds. “Yes, seriously.”

“Does that mean you forgive me for what happened last week?”

You hum between pursed lips in playful contemplation. “Well, maybe you can redeem yourself by going on another date with me then?”

Hearing your proposal, a wide grin arcs his lips, edging into a smirk.

“That’s it? Well, I can definitely fucking do that,” he states, confidence rejuvenating his body at the new, hopeful chance before him.

“Oh, just one more thing though,” you suddenly add.

“What?”

“We are not going to that Chinese Restaurant again.”

[smutsonian]

the mobster’s little girl

pairing: mob!steve rogers x reader

summary: what happens when the big bad mobster gets blackmailed by your father to marry you? (kind of fluffy kind of not. kinda dark kinda not.)

warnings: smut, violence, death, obsessive behavior kind of, poorly written smut (for real i skipped some), innocent reader (kind of?), lil bit of angst, drowning, accidents in the kitchen, reader getting burned, not proofread, a lot of mistakes for sure (It’s a long fic and im too lazy to find the mistakes), loss of virginity skskks, oral deed (f & m), fingering skksks, kind of a handie, please let me know if i skipped some, please read at your own risk, rumlow is a warning periodt, this has crack vibes i swear idk what i was typing at some point, ddlg? (is this ddlg? jesus fuck idek anymore), dub-con but like not really?, the POV gets fucked up towards the end so goodluck with understanding this piece of sheeet

word count: 11k (what da actual fuck? this is loooong)

a/n: df am i being awkward while writing them warnings for? Holy shit that’s a long list of warnings

big thanks to @buckys-forgotten-plum​ for helping me edit <3 luv u mwah

this is a combined request of a mob!steve x innocent!reader + steve teaching reader to suck his ding-a-ding-dong

this has a sucky ending. i hate the fucking ending. 

also, i don’t got no clue on how to do spacing on tumblr so im terribly sorry for that.

masterlist

Maybe it’s because they were terrified. Maybe it’s because they know what’s out there and what evil lurks in every corner of the city. Whatever the reason is, her parents hid her from the outside world. Never was she able to step another foot out of the gates of her home. No matter how huge the mansion her parents keep her in, it still feels small and lonely. Instead of the friends that she should’ve made in kindergarten, she became friends with her parents’ employees. Instead of the high school friends that she was supposed to have, she has the few cleaners in the house. She didn’t feel like they work for her because they’ve become her friends that keep her sane for being in one place for her whole life. Being able to go somewhere that’s not the garden, the gazebo, or even the lake that became her favorite place has always been in her mind but never her heart never really demanded to go out. She gets curious at times but it’s not enough to make her go against her parents’ number one rule.

 “Never let yourself be known and never talk to anyone outside this house. If possible, keep yourself away from the entrance gates.”

Being the obedient daughter you are, you followed that rule without question. You became the daughter that your parents wanted you to be. You learned everything from your tutor. The basics of economics but mostly proper etiquette. You didn’t know why you had to learn those but you did what your parents wanted you to do without question. You always do…

 That’s why when your parents told you that you were to marry, you agreed with a little bit of hesitance. “It’s for the best, princess.” Is the only thing that your father said while your mom looked at you with a small smile. You thought that it was going to be like the ones in the movies. You imagined a magical wedding but you didn’t even have one. You were told to sign some papers and just like that, you’re married to some man you don’t even know. A man that you didn’t see until a few days after the signing of papers.

  Steve never felt so disrespected in his entire life. He’s so used to being the powerful man of the city, the country even, that never did he expect some feeble man to come barreling into his business. The Y/L/Ns… He knew of them but he knew little about them. The family is so secretive but are known to be powerful. Nobody knows how they do it but now he has been graced to learn how.

Blackmail… Along with bribery. How fucking pathetic.

He didn’t know how the man managed to acquire his plans for a rival gang but somehow, the fucker did. The rival gang that he was trying to take down for so long and managed to make a plan of action until this fucker messed everything up. The bastard wanted to marry his daughter off to him for a powerful alliance. Saying something about how both of their names would benefit from the marriage. The bastard also promised a fat amount of money that he’ll receive once he marries his daughter. The bastard knew that money has always been a problem for him by the smug look on his face. 

“It’s simple. You provide us security, we give you money. We seal the deal once you sign the papers to be my daughter’s husband.” The old fucker says with such pride in his voice. Steve gritted his teeth before making a move to toss the man out but the fucker clicks his tongue at him. “Ahh, we also wouldn’t want Rumlow to know about your plans on attacking his turf a fortnight from now, do we?” The old fuck stares at him as he waits for his answer.

 Having no other choice, Steve says yes with flared nostrils. He glares at the way the man smiles giddily while walking towards the door. Before the old man could leave, he turned back towards Steve with a serious look before pointing a finger at him. “One more thing… My daughter will be your wife but you are not to touch her. You live at the mansion with her but you ain’t allowed to touch her. Do get out of her way as much as you can. You get all the money you want by following my orders. That easy. Nice dealing with you.” The man was out the door in an instant as Steve glared at the closed door before picking up a wine glass from his desk and throwing it against the door.

   “It’s a bit weird, mother.” Is your reply when your mother came to visit you in your room and asked you about how you’re feeling given your situation. She continues to brush your hair with her fingers as she hums in response.

 “It’s not like the ones in movies, that’s for sure.” You joke, earning a chuckle from your mother.

“My situation… It’s not really normal, correct?” You pull away from your mother’s hands and turn to look at her. She lets out a sigh before turning you back around and resuming to play with your hair. “No…” She says. “We might have been a bit strict with you but we only did it for your safety. The world out there… It’s not safe.” She continues. Once again, you pull away from your mother to fully give your attention to her. “But you and father are always out there. You put yourselves in danger on the daily so why can’t I?” You look at your mother who was looking at you with an unamused expression. You let out a sigh before sighing. “I know... I know. It sounds a bit silly to ask myself to be put in danger… But what about marrying me off to some stranger! You told me that father is bringing him here after he signed the papers. He’s to live here with all of us. Mother, we don’t even know him. Why would you let a stranger into our home?” You reason out, making exaggerated hand gestures to back yourself up. When your mother makes no effort to respond to you, you retort with a scoff and an eye roll. 

“You’re so hell-bent on keeping me inside this place, claiming that it’s to protect me that you failed to realize that you’re putting all of us in danger by letting an unknown man live with us. Seems kind of idiotic to me.” 

 *SLAP*

 You look at your mother with wide eyes as you hold your left cheek as it is stinging in pain. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. That was disrespectful of me. I’m sorry.” You scrambled to get away from your mother, ignoring her calls as you left your room to run down the long hallway and down the flight of circular stairs. You went out of the mansion and started running down a pathway towards the lake. You were so upset and focused on getting to your destination that you didn’t see a strange man coming out of a black SUV just as you walked out of the mansion.

 You ran down the wooden dock, frowning at what you had said to your mother. You couldn’t believe how you acted just now. First, you disrespect your mother. Now, you hide yourself away like a child that got reproved for the first time. You clicked your tongue in annoyance, an action that you got from your father, as you paced around the wooden dock. “Of course, they were just trying to protect you, you stupid idiot.” You hit your forehead with your palms over and over before tilting your head backward to stare at the sky, not caring at how your eyes hurt at the blinding sun. 

 You closed your eyes after a few seconds, sighing out as you figured that you should probably go back. Your so-called husband was supposed to arrive today. You start to walk back when your foot slipped and suddenly, water enveloped your body. 

 You fell into the lake.

 You would think that being locked up in a big mansion would give you a lot of time to learn how to swim but with your luck, no one ever thought you how so now you couldn’t do anything but drown.

 Your arms flopped around you as you kicked your legs all over the place just to get some air down your lungs but you only found yourself sinking further down. You couldn’t even scream for help because you know that if you did, you would only be swallowing a whole lot of water. 

 Before you could lose your breath entirely, something grasped your flailing hand. You would’ve screamed if you weren’t pulled out of the water. Turned out, it was a hand. Not some kind of creature from the fantasy movies you’ve watched.

 You were sitting on the wooden dock, gasping for air when the sound of an annoyed huff caught your attention. You tilt your head up to see a man looking down at you with an annoyed expression. Your brain started clicking and then it hit you. He must be your husband.

 “You’re here early.” You whisper, looking down. You weren’t sure how to act around him. Around your husband. You would base it on the movies you’ve watched but so far, those movies were nothing like your life. You were sure that if you tried to act like one of the characters there, you would look like a complete buffoon. 

 “So glad to know that I’m married to a dumbass.” He cuts your thoughts off with a sneer. 

 “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall and drown like that.” You remember the lessons you had. About not engaging in someone else’s hostility. You looked down in embarrassment. You’ve never been called something vile like that so you must’ve made him really upset. He scoffs before shaking his head and leaving you on the wooden floor as he walks away.

After that encounter with your so-called husband, you never really saw him again, even though the two of you were living in the same house. It was a few weeks after the drowning incident and you made sure to not tell anyone about it and you only hoped that Steve (you had to learn his name from your mother) didn’t tell anyone about it either. You and your mother are in good terms again and she’s currently in your room again, telling you how she and your father are to spend a few months in Prague to deal with a few business hiccups. You didn’t bother to ask if you could come with but you did bother to complain about them leaving. “You’re leaving me alone with a stranger under the same roof as me?” You exaggeratedly widened your eyes at your mother. “Oh, stop it. I’ve gotten to know Steve myself. I’m sure you’ll be safe with him. He seems like a nice guy. Although, I think your father gets a little bit on his nerves.” Your mother giggles to herself and you look at her with an amused grin. “You’re closer to my husband than I am with him.” You joked which earned a sympathetic look from your mother.

 “Talk to him. He’s your husband after all.” She caresses your face. You hold her wrist as you push your cheeks towards her hold. “I’m pretty sure he hates me, mother. I have a feeling that he’s scrupulously avoiding me.” 

 “How about you bake him something, hmm? You’re wonderful at baking!” Your mother grins at your excited reaction to the mention of baking.

 “I do love to bake…” You hummed in thought before giving your mother a faux pointed look. “Alright, I will bake but only because I love to bake. So if he doesn’t want to socialize with me, then so be it. I wouldn’t care.” You huff proudly as your mother looked at you with a grin and a hint of playfulness in her eyes.

 “What is it?” You ask her.

 “Why do I get the feeling that you want to impress Steve?” She chuckles at your stunned expression.

 “You have completely lost your mind, mother. Haven’t you got a plane to catch? Go on. Say hello to Prague for me!” You push her out of your room, her laughing at your antics before placing a kiss on your forehead and leaving you to yourself.

  “Ooof!” You hissed as your finger touched the hot tray when you were pulling it out of the oven. You were making the third batch of cookies and somehow, you managed to burn your finger now. You quickly pulled the mittens off before putting the hot finger into your lips, as if sucking the pain away is possible. 

 You heard footsteps coming over and when you turned your head, you saw Steve looking at you with something you couldn’t comprehend. “H-hey.” You pulled your finger out of your mouth before hiding it behind your back like a kid. You tiptoed over the counter to reach the plate of cookies before walking over to him. “I made cookies. Would you… like to try some?” You moved the plate closer to his face but he only scowled at you before taking your right wrist and surveying your hand. He found the finger you were sucking on earlier and muttered something under his breath. You thought you heard him say ‘dumbass’ again like the last time.

 “Put cream on it.” He grumbled before leaving the kitchen. You glared at his back until he turned back around, making you wipe the glare out of your face before smiling bitterly at him. He walked towards you with a dark look until he was inches away from you. The position you two are currently in made you realize how tall he is. How he’s towering over you and how his biceps are poking out of his shirt. His crystal blue eyes are staring deep into your soul and you were almost hypnotized by it. You gulped in nervousness. You remember all the things you told your mother about this certain stranger that could possibly be a danger to you until he smirked and took the plate of cookies from the table before walking out once more, leaving you gaping at the door in confusion as your heart was beating faster than normal. From fear or something else, you do not know.

 ----

 Steve was deep in thought as he chewed on the cookies she made. It was really delicious and he hated that he liked it. He did his best to avoid the girl. He’s trying his best to avoid the girl. He did his best to hate the girl so things would be easier for him. He’s trying his best to hate the girl. He didn’t have time to babysit her. Her father is not someone he wanted to have ties with but he is. Steve didn’t want anything that has to do with that man and that includes her.

 But why is it so hard for him to keep her out of his mind?

 The first time he saw her, she had that cute little frown on her face but he found his heart skipping a beat at the sadness in her eyes. He knew he would regret following her but then he didn’t. He saw her as she fell down the dock and he didn’t know why he felt like his world stopped when he saw her gasping for air but it did. It took him his best efforts not to just dive into the lake to save her. Instead, he took her flailing hands and easily pulled her out of the waters. He wanted to keep her warm when he saw her shivering on the wooden floor but he suddenly remembered the deal. His worry was quickly converted into anger and annoyance so he managed to leave her alone, something heavy in his chest as he walked away from her.

 He hated the way she made him feel so he avoided her like a plague. Their home was big and avoiding her was really easy. It was stopping himself from going near her is the hard part. Her mother is the total opposite of her father. Her mother is a nice woman and living with the Y/L/Ns didn’t feel like a job other than her horrid father. Steve got to learn more about her through her mother. She talked about her so dearly. Steve felt his heart fall at the mention of her not leaving the mansion. It sounded like she was an animal caged in better surroundings. Steve realized why she acted so differently when he’s watching her. She seemed so… innocent. 

 Then he caught her baking cookies. It took him his best not to run towards her when he heard her hiss in pain. He watched as she tried to hide her injury from him. He didn’t know if he found it cute or annoying because she shouldn’t hide injuries from him. From anyone. If she was injured, she should get it to check as soon as possible. Then she offered him cookies. Steve swore that his heart leaped in adoration but he took the offered plate in front of him as a chance to check on her hand. He observed her fingers, internally flinching as he saw the burnt area on her index finger. “Such a clumsy little girl…” He muttered under his breath. Steve caught himself though. Why was he so worried about her? He quickly composed himself and dropped her hand. Before turning to leave. He heard her huff and he couldn’t help but to chuckle at that. He turned around to see her frowning at him only to have her eyes widened in surprise. She gave him a stubborn smile as he walked over to her, teasing her and testing her to see where her cuteness could go. Where her STUBBORNNESS could go. Did he really just say cute? 

 When he thought she had had enough, he smirked and took the plate of cookies before leaving.

 The plate of cookies that he’s currently munching on. 

 The more Steve thinks about it, the more he’s realizing that he couldn’t keep her out of his mind. It was impossible.

 The more he sees her, the more he wants to be with her. The more he sees her, the more he wants to protect her because it seems like she has a way of putting herself in danger.

 So innocent.

 So pure.

 He wanted her and he didn’t know if he could control himself anymore.

  A week has passed and things with your husband seemed to have gotten better, if one is optimistically speaking. 

 He no longer avoided you so that’s better than before. He doesn’t acknowledge you much though. He only speaks to you to correct your every move. Called you out when you were walking barefoot around the mansion, mocked you when you walked around the docks, and even demanded you to leave the kitchens alone because according to him, you don’t know how to properly use it.

 He only ever opened his mouth to speak his mind of his distaste towards you and you were starting to miss the times when he completely avoided you.

 But you ignored the insults and kept your head high up. You aren’t going to sulk. Especially not when someone’s clearly made it his goal to make you feel just that.

 That’s why you’re currently making pasta. Ignoring his demand and continuing on having adventures in the kitchen. You just finished making the sauce so now you just have to cook the pasta. You took a pot that was way bigger than your head and proceeded to fill it with water from the sink.

 You struggled to carry it over to the stove, letting out a relieved sigh once you managed to set it down. The problem though, the bottom of the pot somehow got stuck on the burner plate. You clicked your tongue in annoyance before grunting and attempting to pull on the heavy pot. It remained stuck so you exerted more effort, succeeding but managing to tilt the pot towards yourself. You let out a yelp as the cold water inside the pot spills all over you. 

 “Y/N!”

 You felt his hands before you heard his voice.

 ——

 Steve heard clanking noises from the kitchen and he just had to roll his eyes at the thought of her prancing around the kitchen. Didn’t he tell her to leave the kitchen alone? He’s just trying to stray her from the harm she could put herself in. Not that he would ever admit that out loud.

 He walked into the kitchen, just in time to see water spill over her from the boiling pot. His blood went cold as he felt his heart stopping. “Y/N!” He rushed over her knelt body, covered in water. He cautiously touched her face, being careful not to hurt her possibly burnt skin. Why can’t she just listen to him? He told her not to work in the kitchen for a reason. 

 As he touched her seemingly cold cheeks, he watched as she looked up at him with an innocent confused look. “Steve?” Her voice was so meek yet it made his ear start to ring as his heart started to beat back to life. She must’ve seen his frantic expression because her eyes widened in realization before she’s shaking her head and pointing at the fallen pot. “I haven’t boiled the water yet! See? I’m fine. I didn’t burn myself.” She had the audacity to smile cheekily at him and he didn’t know if he should be leaping in joy with her or reprimanding her for being so careless.

 Steve clicked his tongue at her, something that he must’ve picked up from her, before leaving the kitchen with a huff. Something that he’s been doing a lot whenever he’s with her.

 ——

 After he left, you took a seat on one of the chairs, recalling what just happened a few moments ago. He thought you were stupid enough to pour boiling water all over yourself. Does he really think you’re that stupid? He looked so worried though. You smiled at the thought of him possibly caring about you. 

 You let out a short squeak when you felt something falling at the top of your head. A towel. Steve wrapped it around you until your head was the only part exposed. “Whatcha grinning on about, little girl?” His voice was stern but there was a teasing tone in it. You looked up at him as he watched you. You shook your head before furrowing your eyebrows when he bought the pot towards the sink, filling it with water.

 “What are you doing?” Your voice is small as you asked him.

 “Can’t trust you with this. You might boil yourself the next time you even try.” He clicked his tongue before effortlessly bringing the pot to the stove and lighting it up. After that he walked back towards you and sat at the chair beside you, turning himself to stare back at you.

 “I thought I made it clear when I told you not to work in the kitchens?” He mockingly tilted his head before raising one eyebrow at you. You stared back at him, not knowing what to say so you just tilted your head down like a chided kid. 

 “Uh uh uh…” You felt his long fingers under your chin as he tilted your head back to face him. “What’s the matter? Did you manage to burn your tongue as well? Hmm?” You didn’t know why but the way he was talking to you is making you feel something unfamiliar in your stomach.

 When you didn’t answer, he put the hand that was on your chin to the side of your mouth, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. Your eyes fluttered when he managed to poke his thumb into your mouth and pressed it down your tongue gently.

 “Seems pretty alright for me…” He mumbles. You watched as his eyes widened in surprise when you sucked on his thumb absentmindedly. You realized what you were doing and stopped immediately. “No. No, don’t stop. Do it again.” He watched you with bright eyes as you hesitantly sucked on his thumb once more, feeling your body warming up at the current situation. 

 He slowly pulls his thumb out before rubbing it around your lips and leaning his face closer to yours. You could feel your heart panicking in fright or in excitement, you weren’t sure. You saw him close his eyes before he let out a sigh. He pulls away from you then ruffles the towel on your head. “Why don’t you go ahead and put dry clothes on? I think the pasta’s ready.” He grins before walking back toward the stove to start preparing the meal.

 You stumbled to your feet, mindlessly walking towards your room with a clouded mind.

 What was that all about?

  All Steve could ever think about was her. Her beautiful lips. Her eyes that glisten with innocence. Her nose twitches whenever she’s focused on something. The way she fits in his hold. The way she reacts under his touch. 

 He couldn’t forget about the way she sucked on his thumb unknowingly and the way her eyes became hooded from his touch. It’s obvious that she had no idea what was happening and what she was feeling and that only fueled his hunger more.

 The thought of her being hurt made him furious. It made him protective. He wants to protect her at all costs because not even the ends of her hair should get hurt. No. Not on his watch.

 Steve couldn’t take her out of her mind even if he wanted to. That’s the problem. He doesn’t want her out of his mind anymore. He doesn’t want to avoid her anymore.

 Steve accepted it. 

 He knows that he wants her and he knows that she’ll be able to have him wrapped around her precious little finger if she wants to. 

 He realized how she has a tight hold over him without even knowing it and he’s accepted that fact. 

 He’s ready to do everything for the girl and she doesn’t even know it. He’s ready to give her everything he has and everything he is. 

 He’s ready to give himself completely to her. Of course, it is if she’ll have him.

  After that encounter with Steve, you finally followed his instruction and stopped trying to make various meals in the kitchen. 

 You were craving cake so you asked one of the cooks to bake you a cake. That’s why there’s a whole cute pink cake in front of you at the kitchen counter. 

 You’re currently staring at it, thinking it’s too precious to destroy and eat but after a minute of your mouth watering, you give up and run your index finger on the sides until it is covered in icing.

 You licked your finger before sucking on it and humming at the sweet taste of the icing while your eyes are closed. When there is none left on your finger, you take your index and middle finger before sliding it on the sides of the cake to gather twice as much as the previous one.

 Your eyes are closed and lips parted slightly apart, ready to suck on your fingers one more time when a hand grips your wrist. Your eyes fly open to see Steve holding your hand while he’s looking down at your face with a boyish grin. Your eyes widened for the second time when his tongue darted out of his mouth and started licking the icing off your fingers.

 He was staring at you as he continued to lick the icing and you were starting to pull away when his lips parted wider to start sucking on your fingers. You’re frozen in shock as your eyes twitched at the sight of him sucking on your fingers. 

 You feel your heart drop when he starts groaning against your fingers. The unfamiliar feeling in your stomach made itself known again and you bit your bottom lip anxiously at the strange feelings you always get whenever Steve’s with you. 

 Your eyes follow Steve’s lips as he pulls your fingers out of his mouth with a silent pop. He looks at you with a smile before furrowing his brows. “Did you bake this?”

 “N-no! I had someone to bake it for me.” You’re quick to let him know that you didn’t make the cake. He smiled again and you just realize how giddy you feel when you’re able to make him smile like that. 

 “Really? So you finally listened to me?” He chuckles when he sees you nod shyly at him. “Aren’t you a good little girl.” He cooes before looking at the cake with a smirk. “This cake is really delicious…” He leans back to stand straight and you nodded at him in agreement. “I wonder…” 

 You let out a loud squeal when he suddenly puts his hands under your arms before pulling you up and sitting you down on the counter. You look at him with a stunned expression. “Wha—“ 

 “But I bet you taste better than this cake.” You couldn’t respond because he immediately connects his lips with yours, making your eyes pop out in shock as he continues to attack your mouth. You let out a small whimper when you feel his tongue pushing past your lips and roaming around the inside of your mouth, tickling the roof of your mouth.

 You start chuckling against his lips and he stops, looking at you in confusion. “You’re tickling me…” You point at the top of your mouth and Steve’s frown turned into a grin. His hand found their ways on the top of your knees and then he’s pushing them apart. “I know a place where I can tickle you... I’m sure you’ll like it.” He pulls you closer to him so you slide against the counter. He carefully pushes your shoulders until your back is laying on the cold kitchen counter. You feel him hiking your skirt up and pulling your underwear down before he sets your feet back on the counter, knees bent, and far apart. 

 You could feel him breathing against your skin and you could feel your body running hot while the hairs on your body stand in attention. You feel something wet run against your skin and you yelp as you sit on your elbows, looking at Steve alarmingly. His face was just in front of your core and tongue is just retreating your skin. 

 “Wh-what are you doing, Steve?” You bite your lip as you watch him stand up until he’s face to face with you. “I’m trying to make you feel good, baby. Do you trust me?” He presses his lips against yours and pulls away, waiting for your answer.

 “I don’t know…” You admit, stomach dropping at the sadness that flashes over his face.

 “Then let me show you that you can trust me. Can you let me do that?” He looks at you and smiles when you nod at him. He presses his lips on you once more, pushing you against the kiss until your back is back on the counter. He pulls away, pecking you one last time before going back to press kisses in between your legs.

 He licks up your skin, hands pressing down on your hips when you begin squirming around. You feel his mouth sucking on the bud before flicking his tongue over it. He doesn’t stop until you’re whining under him, unsure if you want him to stop or to do something else.

 “What do you want, little girl?” He breathes against your core, making your legs shiver at the sensation. 

 “I don’t know…” You whine, eyes staring at him as he stands over your body. He raises his right hand, fingers fluttering in display as he gives you a questioning look. “You want me to use this on you?” You could only nod in desperation because the feeling of emptiness when he pulled away from you is becoming too much.

 “Good girl.” You hear him whisper before going back in between your legs. You feel his fingers playing with your bud instead of his tongue and it feels overwhelming when he uses his tongue to press it against your entrance. 

 “Mmmhm” You close your eyes in delight as he continues to play with you. The familiar feeling in your abdomen makes itself known once again and this time, it’s stronger. You need more.

 “P-please…” You mutter under your breath, pulling on Steve’s hair to catch his attention. He looks at you with a proud smile before asking. “What is it? You need more? Want me to put my finger inside you, is that it?” 

 ——

 Steve smiles when she nods her head eagerly. So innocent, can’t even tell him what she wants. What she needs.

 He rubs on her clit a few more times to wet his fingers before lining a finger against her slit. He looks back at her as he starts pushing the finger in, slowing down when her hand grips her arm. 

 Steve groans at the tightness of her walls against his finger and starts to slowly pump it as he watches her face contort into a pleasured frown. When he feels her loosening up, he adds another finger that earns a low moan from her. Steve stiffens for a second when he feels his pants getting tighter in the crotch area. His cock is begging him for attention but he pays no mind, focusing on the angel in front of him.

 He spreads his fingers apart inside of her as he leans down to start flicking his tongue against her clit, smirking against it when her thighs shiver against his head. He feels her breaths starting to become uneven and he knows that she’s just about to cum so he doubles his effort, sucking her clit harshly and curling his fingers inside of her.

 Her back arches off the counter and Steve hooks an arm under her to pull her up and press her against his chest. She shakes against his hold as he helps her get through her high. She slumps against his hold, head falling down the side of his neck. 

 Steve tilts his head to look at her face, eyes hooded and forehead sweating. She looks so adorable like this. “That cake gave us such a rush, huh?” He chuckles before hooking her legs around his torso and hugging her body close to his. He feels her dozing off as he carries her to her bedroom. 

 He lays you down on the bed and tucks you under your blanket before studying your face. So peaceful. So relaxed. A smile forms on your face and Steve finds himself smiling as well.

 “Goodnight, my sweet little girl.” He presses a kiss on your forehead before walking out of your room. 

  It’s currently four in the afternoon and Steve is currently sitting on a couch in the massive living room, thinking about the night he has planned for him and his little girl. 

 After that time in the kitchen, things have been great with them. It’s been a few months and he became someone he didn’t know he could be and it was all for her. He wants nothing but the best for his girl. He gives her the ‘special treatment’ or ‘reward’ whenever she asks for it. She’ll do something nice for him to receive his special kisses but Steve knew that he’ll give her anything without her working for it. He just likes the attention he gets from her when she gets a little needy.

 Steve feels his crotch stirring under his pants at the thought of eating his little girl out. He always eats her out and makes her putty with his fingers but his cock remains abandoned. 

 He didn’t think she was ready. He didn’t want to scare his girl. He’ll wait as long as he needs until his little girl’s ready for him. For the time being, he’ll make sure to keep his little girl happy and satisfied.

 Steve’s thoughts were cut off when his little girl walked in front of him with a weird look on her face, a phone held against her right ear. He sits up in attention, his body becoming alert at the way her face scrunches up in fear as she looks at him.

 “What’s wrong, little girl?” His voice is a whisper but his tone is hard. 

 She looks at him with a frown before handing him the phone. He looks at it and listens to her as she speaks.

 “Father called… Which is weird because he never calls when they’re on a trip. Let alone a business trip. He told me that the trip would be a few months and I didn’t think they would be in some kind of situation after being gone for almost seven months… They’re usually gone longer than that. But then that guy—” She points at the phone in Steve’s hand before continuing her explanation.

 “—That guy took the phone away from my father when he’s explaining something to me about telling something to you, Steve. His name is Rumlow and he’s got a very foul mouth—” He watches as her nose scrunches up, probably at the memory of the man’s words on the phone but Steve didn’t care about that. He’s worried about Rumlow talking to you. Through your father’s phone at that!

 Steve presses the phone against his ear before asking who’s on the other line.

 “Ahh, Rogers… Where’s the little brat? I thought she’s enjoying the things I’m promising her. Told her about how my cock will make her cunt cry—” Steve feels his blood boiling at the way Rumlow is talking about his little girl.

 “What are you on about, Rumlow? What are you doing with that phone?” Steve cuts Rumlow off, voice so harsh that he sees her flinching at his tone. He smiles at her before ushering her back to her room.

 “You see… Your girl is supposed to be mine. I saw her first but imagine the surprise I got when I ask her dear daddy for her hand and he tells me that she’s married to a Steve fucking Rogers.” Steve hears Rumlow’s bitter laugh before hearing her little girl’s father groan in pain, no doubt that he took a blow from Rumlow.

 “I just want a simple deal here, Rogers. I’ll text the address and I expect to have the girl and a bag filled with… I don’t know, ten million dollars? If you’re too broke then just bring the girl. I’m sure she’ll make the lack of ten million with her pretty little cunt.” Rumlows cackle was heard along with the cries of your parents. He must’ve held them as hostages. 

 “Do that and her parents stay safe. Be here at 9 pm sharp or it’s bye-bye for her lovely parents. Tik-Tok, Rogers. Tik-Tok…” Steve almost crushes the phone into pieces in his hand when Rumlow hangs up on him. Rumlow holds your parents as hostages and dares to speak about you like that. He’ll fucking kill him.

 The phone buzzes and he sees the address Rumlow sent him. They were no longer in Prague. They’re back here...

 Steve makes a move to call his best man, Bucky, when he hears sounds coming from her room. He quickly runs over, throwing her door open to see her shoving a bunch dollar bills into a huge bag while a phone is pressed against her neck and her shoulder. 

 Steve’s heart falls at the sight of tears falling down her face. She must’ve heard everything with the connecting phone lines. He sighs before walking over to his girl and steadying her by holding her shoulders in a firm grip. “Everything will be alright. I’ll call someone to fix the problem. They’ll clear the building, catch the bad guy, and then your parents will be home in no time!” Steve gives her a smile but it doesn’t work. Her face is still wet with tears as she shakes her head in disagreement.

 “No! The b-bad guy will harm my parents if he sees your men without me! I don’t w-want anything bad happening to my family, Steve. I-I don’t want that!” He pulls her against his chest as he sobs and shakes against his hold. Steve runs a comforting hand on her back before sighing in defeat. 

 “Fine. We’ll save your parents but I have to call my friends for backup. And you have to stay as far away from the fighting. I’ll have my best guy, James, be with you the whole time. You can trust him, he’s my best friend. You need to stick with him because he’ll keep you safe, got it?” He gives her a firm yet gentle look, jaw clenching when she nodded eagerly at him before continuing to fill the bag with cash. 

 He makes his calls and in no time, they’re driving towards the address Rumlow sent him.

  Steve parks the car a few miles away from the building where her parents are being held as hostages. He looks at his little girl who’s currently wearing sweatpants and his hoodie which looks pretty big on her. He smiles at the sight before letting out a shaky breath. 

 “You gotta stay here, okay? I promise that I’ll get your parents out safely. You don’t have to worry about them because I’ll protect them for you, okay? You trust me, little girl?” He watches her as she reluctantly nods her head. He sighs at that before handing her a pistol gun. “You know how to use one?” He asks, surprised to see his little girl nod. She must’ve seen his surprised look because she looks down before explaining, “I had basic shooting lessons.”  He smiles at his little girl before nodding. 

 He gets out of the car before walking around and opening the door for his girl and helping her out. He sees James walking over to them and he nods at his friend in acknowledgment before looking back at his girl. “This is Bucky. He’ll keep you safe. Stick with him, alright?” He watches her girl as she observes his friend with her adorable curious eyes.  

 “The others are already surrounding the building. Backup is also ready. Just say something and they’ll attack. Good luck out there.” He smiles at Bucky’s words before kissing his girl’s forehead.

 “Please stay safe, Steve.” His girl mutters and he feels his heart skip a beat at that moment. “I will. Anything for you, little girl.” He turns to leave, hearing his girl one last time before disappearing. 

 “That’s a nice-looking vest, Mr. Bucky.”

  Everything was going well for Steve. Rumlow’s men are really weak and easy to take down and when Rumlow realized that, he ran. He ran away like the coward he is. He ran out of the building and that was that. At least, that’s what Steve thought. 

 He was able to see her parents and he quickly untied them, her mother thanking him endlessly while her father only grumbled his thanks once. 

 He was guiding the couple out of the building, surprised to see his little girl standing a few miles away from them with Bucky. He sees her eyes brighten in relief that made all his worries disappear. 

 He was walking with her parents when he heard the cocking of a gun beside his head. 

 “Not so fast.” A raspy voice speaks beside him.

 Rumlow…

 Before Steve could even move, a bang was heard. Followed by another bang that has his ears ringing in pain. He closes his eyes to ease the aching in his head or his body. Was he shot? 

 His eyes fly open when he remembers that his girl is also out in the open and his eyes quickly darts over towards her.

 To his surprise, his girl is holding the gun he gave her earlier in his direction. 

 Steve quickly scans the couple near him for injuries when he hears someone groaning below him. He finds Rumlow laying on his back, legs bleeding while his arms are spread out. 

 He looks back at his girl, a sense of pride filling his system. His girl just did that. 

 He watches as his girl runs towards him with her arms wide open, ready to envelop him in a hug. 

 Steve grins before he hears Rumlow muttering and everything seems to be moving in slow motion. 

 “If I can’t have her… Then nobody can!” Rumlow spits before a loud bang go out.

 Steve’s eyes grow wide when he sees the bullet piercing through his hoodie and into his girl’s chest. 

 His heart stops when he sees her falling down into Bucky’s arms and onto the cold ground. 

 Her mother’s cries filled Steve’s ringing ears as well as her father’s curses as he tried to console his wife.

 Steve quickly kicks the gun from Rumlow’s hand before kicking the bastard’s face repeatedly until he’s unconscious. He releases all his anger on the bastard who shot his little girl by bending down and throwing punches down the unconscious man. He keeps punching until he sees Bucky carrying his girl towards them. 

 He pulls back from a bleeding Rumlow before running towards Bucky and taking his girl from his best friend. He brushes some stray hair away from her forehead before observing her face. 

 “Call the fucking ambulance!” He barks at nobody but Bucky follows his order, quickly fumbling with his phone and calling their mob doctor. 

 Steve was about to rip his hoodie off his girl when her eyes suddenly flew open, gasping for air. 

 Steve’s heart stops for a second, he doesn’t know if it’s from shock or relief but he’s grateful to see his little girl alive and breathing. He feels her wrap her arms around his neck, burying her face on the side of his neck as she catches her breath. He wraps his arm around her shaking body, gripping her tight and pulling her body against his like he’s afraid that she’ll slip away from his grasp.

 “Mother. Father. I’m so glad you’re okay!” He hears his girl talking to her parents who are currently behind him. He should let her go to reunite with her parents but he doesn’t. He keeps her against his body. 

 “Are you okay, dear?” Her mother asks and he feels his girl nodding against his neck. His girl finally pulls away from him before tugging on the hoodie she’s wearing and pulling it up to reveal a bulletproof vest. 

 Bucky’s laughter fills the air and everyone turns to look at him. “You little genius!” He exclaims before pointing at his little girl. “She kept bothering me about my vest and didn’t stop until I gave her one! Ah... You got yourself a keeper and a smartass, Steve!” He continues to laugh, her parents soon follow Bucky until everyone is laughing as well. 

 Everyone’s laughter is cut off by Rumlow waking up before gasping for air just like you were a few moments ago. 

 He pulls his girl against his chest, blocking her view from Bucky who gets his gun out before pointing it towards Rumlow’s head. 

 Steve covers his girl’s ears before another bang goes out. The last one for the night.

  “I’m really fine, Steve. Dr. Banner said I was fine! No scars and all, see?” You pull your hoodie up to assure him. You watch him stare at your skin, probably looking for scars before he forces your hoodie down with a frown as he bites his lip. 

 “You can’t just pull your shirt up like that. People might see.” His hushed and commanding voice makes you gulp and nod apologetically. 

 You look around as he walks the both of you towards the lake. “But there’s nobody around, Steve.” You whisper, looking down at the dirt as you walk with him. 

 You feel his warm fingers under your chin before your head is tilted up so you’re looking directly up at him. “You really are a smartass, huh?” He smirks, feeling your body warm up against his hold before throwing his arm around your shoulders to continue walking.

 Steve holds you close as the both of you walk down the dock under the darkness of the night. He stops just at the end of the dock before turning to face you. 

 You admire his face, looking so enchanting under the light of the moonlight. “You remember the first time we met?” He asks, grinning at your embarrassed reaction which is you chewing your bottom lip. He caresses your face before running his thumb across your lips, stopping your teeth’s attacks on your lips.

 “How you’re taught to shoot a gun but not how to swim will always be a mystery.” He chuckles, smiling down at you and you watch him as he does just that. He’s just so pretty to look at.

 “You really scared me tonight, little girl…” His sad tone made your eyebrows shoot up in worry. “I-I didn’t mean to, Steve! I’m so sorry.” You frown at yourself but he brushes his fingers on the wrinkles you made between your eyebrows which makes you relax just a bit.

 “I was supposed to be the one protecting you. Not the other way around.” He lets out a sigh before looking at the water. “But thank you. Thank you for doing that. And for trusting me. I know you were a little hesitant with trusting me but you still did. So thank you for that. It means a lot.” Steve looks back at you and smiles. You feel your heart fluttering at his smile but it also breaks at his words. You wanted to tell him that he’s wrong but you are cut off by a bunch of lights.

 You gasp at the lights that start to flicker all around you. You do a slow full 360, looking at the trees that are covered with fairy lights, the side of the docks are covered with lights as well, and the darkness is soon replaced by a whole bunch of lights. Your heart starts to jump when you hear slow music playing in the background and it feels like every time you do a full 360 turn, something new presents itself. 

 Everything seems so magical, so pretty and so… Something straight out of the fairytale movies that you watch. 

 You turn to face Steve again only to find him gone. You frown before looking down to see him down on one knee, a red velvet box in his hand which he holds towards you.

 You feel yourself grinning with so much joy running through your system and you can’t help but to let out a squeal when the velvet box opens to reveal a very pretty diamond ring. 

 “Little girl… Will you make me the happiest man alive by marrying me?” He asks, uncharacteristically shy which makes you giggle. You start giggling more which makes Steve lick his lips as his eyes flash his nervousness. 

 “Steve, you’re so dumb.” You mumble through giggles. 

 “Huh?” Steve slowly stands up, looking at you with sad eyes.

 “We’re already married! We both signed the papers!” You point out the obvious, stopping your giggle fit before kissing him on the lips.

 “Don’t be sad, Steve… I accept your proposal… Even though we’re already married.” You giggle once more before letting him put the ring on you.

 He guides you until the both of you are sitting on the edge of the dock, feet dangling down the water.

 “I just wanted you to have a normal yet magical experience even just for a moment,” Steve whispers after a few minutes of silence.

 “That’s kind of useless.” You automatically say.

 “What? Why?” Steve feels his heart fall at your words. Is he doing this whole thing wrong?

 “I already feel like that whenever I’m with you.” You state, looking at him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

 Steve feels his heart beat an extra mile but he also feels relieved that he’s indeed doing it right. 

 You grin at the sight of Steve blushing in front of you. You never thought that the man who was so hard on you the first time you met was going to be a blushing mess in front of you right now.

 “Hey, Steve?” Your voice cuts the thin air and he looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah?”

 “You know how I saved your life earlier…” Steve smiles at your bashful expression that he finds so adorable.

 “Mhmm…” He nonchalantly hums.

 “Well… I was thinking…” You bite your lip in nervousness and embarrassment at the question you’re about to ask him.

 “What is it, little girl?” His voice is matched with a chuckle as he gives you a grin.

 “Can I have a reward for that?” You blurt out.

 Steve feels his cock stir in his pants at her words. He bites his lip before standing up and helping her up as well.

 “I’ll give you everything you want, little girl. It doesn’t have to be a reward. You ask for it, you get it, is that clear?” He gives you a questioning look before smiling when you nod eagerly at him.

 “Now, what is it that you want as a reward?” 

 ————-

He trails kisses from your forehead to your nose, nose to your cheeks, cheeks to your neck. He purposely skips your lips with a grin and starts feasting on your neck. He licks and sucks on a spot he knows too well, earning an adorable squeak from you when he teasingly bites on the skin. “S-Steve!” You gasp, hands going straight to his head, fingers sliding through his soft hair. He continues nipping on your neck until your head tilts back and a quiet moan escapes your lips.

 He pulls away to look at you and then smirks.

 “You want me to give you those special kisses for your rewards?” He cocks a brow before smiling when you nod your head eagerly at him. “Y-yes please.” 

 Steve wastes no time to pleasure you. His little girl.

 He dives for your glistening core and groans in pleasure at your taste. He uses his tongue to stimulate you through your clit, enjoying the way your body shakes under his hold.

 Steve listens to your moans and whimpers like a song and uses it as motivation to keep you a writhing mess under him. “Please, S-Stevie…” He hears you cry under him, reaching your hands towards his hands and pulling it closer to his face as he tongues your clit. 

 Steve chuckles at your needy behavior but complies, not missing the nickname leaving your lips. Anything for his little girl.

 Steve easily enters a finger into your wet core, groaning at your warmness and wetness before adding another finger. He sees your face contorting into a mix of pleasure and pain. Steve leans down to kiss your clit and flicks his tongue faster to distract you from the pain.

 “A-aah” He watches your eyes rolling back when he begins to spread his fingers inside you. Another finger enters and you’re crumbling against his fingers, walls closing around his fingers as you cum undone under him. He pulls away from you before reaching for your face and kissing you hungrily. He smiles against the kiss when he feels you return the kiss with the same hunger.

 He feels you pulling away and he lets you, frowning a little when he sees you looking at him timidly. His hand carefully reaches for your face, knuckles gliding down for cheeks smoothly. “What is it, little girl?” 

 He watches you bite your lip before looking at him with half-lidded eyes. “I w-want to give you special kisses too…” Steve freezes as he feels his cock getting harder than before. He feels your hands reaching for his member, giving him a look before gulping. “C-can you teach me? I want to make you feel good too…” 

 Steve doesn’t know which is beating harder; his cock or his heart, maybe both… Probably both. You do that to him. Only you. His little girl. 

 Steve finds himself gulping as well. “You don’t have to, litt—” 

 “I want to!” You’re quick to cut him off. Almost eager, he notices. He lets out a nervous laugh before nodding. “Okay, okay… I’ll teach you.” He doesn’t miss the way your eyes light up from his approval. He smiles at you before guiding your hands that’s currently holding his hard member.

 “Just do this gently…” He guides your hands up and down his shaft, head going crazy at the sight of your hands not being able to cover his huge cock. He bites his lip, willing himself to hold on and not cum on your hands so early.

 “C-can I kiss it now?” He looks down at you, sitting on the mattress as your innocent eyes look up at him while he stands on the ground. “Go ahead, little girl. Try it.” He encourages you, smiling when you press a quick kiss on his tip. His jaw clenches when you press another kiss, longer this time. 

 Steve’s eyes flutter when he feels your tongue dancing around his tip. You begin to lick along the shaft and then under, making Steve groan wantonly. 

 Steve lets out a frustrated huff when you quickly pull away from him. “I-I’m sorry. I was just doing what you did to me. I-I didn’t mean to hurt you!” Your eyes are teary and Steve realized that his moans made you think that you hurt him.

 He sighs before leaning down to your face, giving you an assuring smile before kissing your nose. “You didn’t do anything wrong, little girl. You’re doing everything right. In fact, you’re doing so great that my friend down there couldn’t help but to go wild under your touch.” He points at his member before grinning at your widened eyes.

 “I’m going to guide you. There’s no reason to be afraid. If you want to stop, just tap me and we will stop. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, okay?” He waits for your response and lets out a breath of relief when you nod.

 He stands back up, putting your hands on his behind and guiding your face just in front of his cock. “Open wide, little girl.” He sings and grins when you do as told. He holds the back of your head but never pushes you, leaving you to go at your own pace.

 You push yourself forward, taking him halfway before pulling back and pushing yourself back to him. His moans of pleasure push you to do more so you do. You swirl your tongue on his tip as you bob your head, smiling at the loud moan that leaves his lips. 

 “You little tease…” He breathes out, his grip on your head getting tighter but not enough to hurt you. He feels the vibration of your laughter on his cock and he lets out another cry of pleasure.

 Feeling confident with yourself, you push yourself forward until his tip hits the back of your throat, making you gag.

 He helps you as you pull away from him, looking down at you with his flushed face. He studies your face, eyes shadowed with lust, making his heart do somersaults. He wipes the tears on your face before saying, “Breathe through your nose, okay?” He watches you nod and chuckles when you go back for his cock, taking him deep at a slow pace and staying there for a second before pulling slightly away. “That’s my good girl…” He moans as you continue to take him, teasing his tip with your tongue when he suddenly pulls you away from him.

 “Did I—” He cuts you off with a kiss, groaning against your lips and pushing you until you’re lying on your back with him on top of you. “You did great. I just want my cum somewhere else…” He catches your lips when you bite on them, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth.

 He pulls away, guiding your body until he’s kneeling between your thighs, one hand on his cock while the other is on your thigh. “Is this okay?” He asks when he places the tip of his cock on your slit.

 You gingerly nod, whimpering when he slides his cock on your sensitive clit. “P-please…” You have no idea what you’re begging for but he seems to know what he’s doing. 

 “Do you trust me, little girl?” Steve asks, looking at your face with hopeful eyes.

 “Yes, Stevie. I trust you.” Steve’s heart warms up at how fast you answered his question. He nods before sliding a few more teasing thrusts into your folds and clit before slowly sliding his tip into your slit. He stops to look at your face that’s contorted into a frown. He leans down your face to kiss your frown away and kisses your lips as well, hoping to distract you from the pain. 

 Steve pushes his cock deeper when he feels you relax under him. He pushes slowly and stops when he’s fully in, groaning when your walls hug his member tightly. “Fuck!” He hisses before looking at you. “You okay?” He asks, smiling when you nod at him, eyes closed. He kisses your lips before pulling halfway and thrusting into you once more, earning a little whimper from you.

 “How are you feeling, baby?” You try to ignore the nickname, opening your eyes and looking straight at his eyes. “G-good. Please move, Stevie.” You press your palms against his chest. He pulls halfway out before shoving himself inside you again, repeating this action until you’re moaning loudly under him and clutching his biceps for support.

 Steve feels your walls fluttering around him, alarming him that you’re close. He knows he’s close as well so he helps you reach your peak by rubbing your clit with his fingers, groaning at how your walls tighten around him.

 Steve listens to your cries of pleasure as your walls clamp down on his cock as you cum, making him cum as well and milking him. Your body shakes under him and both of you breathe heavily as you try to catch your breath. He falls to your side, his arms enveloping around you to pull you against his chest into a warm and strong embrace.  

 “It’s official. We just consummated our marriage... I’m all yours just as much as you’re all mine.” He stares at your face, watching your eyes as you fight yourself from falling asleep.

 “I fucking love you, little girl.” He lazily says, brushing your face with his fingers. You stare at him sleepily, listening to the beat of his heart.

  “The fuck is he doing?” Your father grumbles as he watches Steve prance around the kitchen.

 “He’s making our daughter breakfast. I think our daughter broke him.” Your mother snickers at the way your father looks at Steve in disbelief. 

 “You tellin’ me that he touched Y/N?!” Your father fumes, getting ready to walk up to the man in the kitchen before your mother stops him.

 “Oh, hunny. Would you stop that? They’re married. And Y/N is an adult. They both are. They can do anything they want. And I can see that Steve really loves our daughter. The way he acted after Y/N got shot. Not to mention the part where he literally saved our asses. Your ass.” Your mother berates your father who just huffs in response before leaving. Your mother chuckles before following her husband, ready to give him a piece of her mind.

  “You made cookies without me?” Steve’s heart flutters as you pout at him. “I want to make cookies too…” You mumble under your breath. You just woke up from your sleep when Steve entered the room with a plate full of cookies.

 “I didn’t want you getting into any accidents, little girl.” Steve chuckles when you take one cookie before grumpily munching on it. He watches as your eyes light up before covering it up with a frown. “Will you stop calling me little girl?”

 “Never.” He simply says. You huff and Steve couldn’t help but to chuckle at your cuteness.

 “Your cookies aren't even that good. I make better cookies.” You mumble before taking another cookie from the plate and munching on it. Steve raises an eyebrow at you before shaking his head. “I know you do, little girl. I know you do.” He smiles at you before making a move to sit beside you. 

 “No! Wait! Stay there.” You point a finger at him before fumbling around the sheets as if looking for something. 

 “You okay?” Steve asks, eyes shooting open when you jump out of the bed to stand in front of him, only the sheets covering your body. You realize this and quickly pull on the hoodie from last night before looking back at Steve with a grin.

 “Hi,” You start, earning a confused look from Steve. “Hello?” He chuckles when you look at him with so much excitement that you’re literally bouncing on your toes.

 “I want to give you something.” 

 “What is it?” Steve watches your fist as you hold it against his face before opening it, revealing a gold ring that looks to be vintage or a hundred years old.

 “Where’d that come from, little girl?” Steve whispers.

 “Can I put it on you? Will you marry me too?” You ignore his question, too excited to listen to anything. Steve laughs before nodding, watching you with adoration as you giddily put the ring on him. 

 “There! So pretty! You’re so pretty, Stevie!” You continue to admire the ring on his finger when he takes your chin with said hand, making you look up at him. 

 “Thank you, little girl.” He leans down to press a kiss on your lips before pulling away with a smile.

 “My father gave it to me.” You blurt out, making Steve’s eye widen just a bit. 

 “Your father?” He asks, not sure about what’s happening.

 “Yes. He came here earlier. Told me that you deserve the ring and that you should never make him regret anything?” Steve listens to you, you obviously don’t know what your father did but it’s enough for Steve to understand.

 “Oh… And Stevie?” He looks at you, smiling and asking you if you need something.

 “I love you too.” You grin at him.

 Steve stares at you for a moment before feeling tears sliding down his cheeks.

 He makes a quick move towards you, pulling you in a tight embrace and pampering your face with kisses.

 “I love you, little girl. Thank you for saying it back.” He mumbles against your hair before pressing a kiss on your lips once more.

 “Stop calling me little girl!” You grumble against him.

 He only chuckles at you before shaking his head. “No. You’ll always be my little girl.”

 ----

a/n: omfg if you finished all that, congratulations you just wasted a whole lot of ur time but thanks for wasting it on me 3;-)

[superfam]

What are your thoughts on John Byrne's Superman? Love your blog btw ❤

Thanks so much!!

And oh, my dear friend, you have just excused me to go off. I was out for dinner last night and ended up ranting about John Byrne somehow LMAO I'm so glad I can direct it towards someone who actually asked sfksd

Here's what I bought at the comic store last week! (Don't mind the Urasawa) It pretty much sums up my feelings on Byrne's Superman: a great story, historically important, worth reading if you're into Supes, but missing out on a major aspect of Superman as a character. That aspect is more than made up for in Yang's absolutely exquisite Superman Smashes the Klan: his immigrant identity.

There's a lot to love about Byrne's Superman and his Man of Steel six-issue miniseries (as distinct from The Man of Steel omnibus..) is still an origin story I really love. The way he writes Clark's relationships, such as with Lois and his parents, is really great. His Lex Luthor is amazing, breathing new life into the character, and probably one of my favourite incarnations of him. And the individual arcs are just undoubtedly engaging and well-written.

But there's this:

Byrne's Superman is so WASP-y. It makes my skin crawl sometimes.

In many ways, the Superman that emerged in the 1980’s in the wake of this reboot was as gentile a character as he had ever been. This was a Superman who, by design and intention, had no desire or intention to be anything other than a product of the beef-eating, football-playing, U. S. of A. Zach Rabiroff, Superman The Jew: History Of A People Through The World’s Greatest Hero

John Byrne is not a person I like. He has said some awful things about immigrants, judging them based on their connection to their cultures. He's also transphobic and overall a kinda terrible person in general, from what I've heard. I think his Superman is always going to be missing something that is crucial to the character.

His Superman was not born on Krypton -- he was gestated in the rocket and was 'born' on Earth. His Krypton is cold, sterile, and appears to have a legacy that Clark is not proud of, and which he doesn't wish to connect to. Though not written by Byrne, you can see this continuing legacy in 80s and early 90s Superman, such with the Eradicator which is essentially introduced as an evil Kryptonian artifact. It possesses Clark and makes his cruel and callous as he transforms into 'Krypton Man'!

That doesn't make his incarnation of the character worthless, but it does mean that it should be read critically. I'll only recommend Byrne's Superman after modern incarnations of the character, and only if you understand the ultimate limitations and problems with this one.

I'll say that anyone who reads Byrne's Superman should also read Yang's Superman Smashes the Klan! It's an absolutely wonderful story which explores Clark's complex immigrant identity as he struggles under the expectations of the society around him. It follows a sort of transition from his Golden Age to Silver Age self as he accepts his heritage, and overall it's just so well-written and joyous. Who doesn't love Superman punching racists and being a champion of the oppressed?

I should really get around to writing a comprehensive Supes rec list!! Thanks for motivating me with my feelings on Byrne's Superman haha

Ultimately, I'm an Anglo-Australian gentile, so I can't comfortably speak any more deeply on Superman's roots and immigrant identity. So give the article I linked or the comic I recommended a shot!

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

I give you a lot of angsty requests, so here, have a fluffy one!

Among Us: Through some glitch, a round generates with no impostors. For the first little while everyone is really on edge and trying to accuse each other, but they soon realize that nobody is dying and relax, although they're still very confused. Everybody does their tasks as normal, but instead of completing the last task, they all build a big pillow fort under the admin table and just take a rest for a little bit, hanging out and laughing over previous games and just being together without the tension of possible death and betrayal over their heads. Many stories are told, many "bodies" of friends knocked over in pillow fights are "reported", and many memories are made, before they finally decide to end the round! 💙

okay so this request was MEGA detailed so i didn’t get to every single part of it but i hope this is just as good lol

also bring on the angst I DARE YOU /lh

…

A weird feeling in his stomach, Etho presses the emergency meeting button, teleporting everybody to the table. Once everyone is assembled, Etho realises something strange.

“Okay, there’s been no deaths,” he says slowly.

“Wh- Seriously?!” Tango gasps. “That round lasted, like, twenty YEARS! Half the tasks have been done!”

Etho frowns. “Nobody’s seen anything suspicious, or…? No venting?”

Everybody shakes their heads.

“Okay… I guess we’ll skip, then. Everyone keep an eye out, though.”

When the meeting comes to an end, Etho trots after Tango as the latter heads towards weapons. “Hey, Tango? Does something seem a little off about this round to you?”

“Yeah. We’re a bunch of idiots who can barely play this game on a good day - except you, of course,” he adds, “but it’s definitely weird that we went that long without a single kill. The imposters must be really slow for some reason.”

Etho considers this. “Maybe. I’m not convinced.”

He leaves Tango’s side and peels off into navigation as Tango keeps going. After finishing his download, he goes back up and does his task in O2, before heading back to cafeteria to finish wires.

After this, he realises there still hasn’t been a body reported so he catches Astro as the latter enters cafeteria. “Hey, Astro. Can you hit the button for me?”

“Oh, sure.”

Astro presses the emergency meeting button, bringing everyone back to the table. Etho’s suspicions are confirmed when he sees that everybody is still alive.

“Okay, I’m sorry to call you back here, but we need to talk,” Etho says. “There’s something wrong with this round and we may have to abandon it.”

“What do you mean?” Skizz asks confusedly. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s been over three minutes and there’s been no kills or sabotages. I apologise if I’m not correct, but I just have a feeling that there’s something wrong. If you’re the imposter, please raise your hand now.”

Nobody moves.

“This isn’t a trick,” Etho adds. “I’m sorry if I’m ruining someone’s imposter round, but I’m genuinely a little concerned that the game has gone wrong.”

“I’ll support you on that,” says Tango. “Etho knows about this stuff. If he’s worried about the game glitching out, I’ll take that seriously. I’m not the imposter, but if anyone else is, I’d advocate coming forward just to make sure nothing’s wrong.”

After a moment, a chorus of murmurs comes from the others, all confirming that none of them are the imposter.

“Okay, so it seems the game has glitched and generated a round with no imposters somehow,” Etho says. “No need to panic; if we all finish our tasks and win the round, it should take us back to the lobby like normal.”

“But do we have to do that, though?” asks Impulse. “Tasks are almost done and there’s no imposters, so why don’t we just hang out a bit, without the threat of death?”

“I’m down for that,” says Endless unexpectedly. “I’ve always wanted to build a pillow fort in admin. The table looks perfect for it.”

“You mean out of pillows like these?” Joker holds up a pillow that he seemingly pulled from out of nowhere. “Hey, Skizz?”

Skizz turns. “What’s u-”

Joker whacks him in the face with the pillow.

“GAAAH!” Skizz shrieks, tripping over his own foot. “What the hell?!”

Clutching the pillow by its corner, Joker doubles over with laughter. “Oh my gosh, your FACE!”

“Okay, that’s it. Imposter or no imposter, I’m gonna murder you.”

Skizz snatches the pillow out of Joker’s hand and swings it at him, but Joker dodges and takes off running down the hallway towards storage, giggling like a child. Unable to help a laugh of his own, Skizz pursues him.

“Where did he even get that?” snickers Tango.

“Same place I got mine,” Endless says, holding up an identical white pillow. “Medbay.”

Brody tries to hold in a laugh. “Endless, I’ll give you a high five if you hit Tango with that pillow right now.”

Endless considers this for a moment.

Tango gives him a warning look. “Don’t. Endless, I swear to-.”

He cuts himself off and ducks as Endless swings the pillow at him, but before he can do it again, Endless brings it back round and whacks him in the side of the head, causing him to let out a yelp.

Laughing uncontrollably, Brody holds up his hand for a high five, which Endless gleefully gives him. “I like this,” he says happily. “I feel cool.”

“Endless, you’re starting something you can’t finish,” Tango warns.

“Then you finish it,” says Impulse unexpectedly, appearing out of nowhere to hand Tango a pillow of his own.

A grin slowly spreads over Tango’s face.

Endless blinks. “Oh. I’m in trouble.”

On the other side of the room, Etho glances sharply over as he hears a THWACK sound and finds Tango and Endless whacking each other viciously with pillows. He chuckles to himself and continues looking through the game’s code.

After a while, Brody approaches him. “Hey Etho, we’re gonna go build a pillow fort in admin. You should come join us.”

“Thanks, but I gotta work through this code.”

“You can do that in the lobby later. C’mon, we’ve got a once-in-a-lifetime thing here. This glitch will probably never happen again. Let’s have some fun on this map while we have the chance.”

After a moment, Etho nods and lets Brody take him into admin, where Mrs Tango and Astro are already piling cushions in the middle of the room.

“Is this what we do when we think the game might’ve gone wrong?” Etho chuckles. “Build pillow forts?”

“I mean, we may as well,” Brody responds. “Right? What else can we do?”

“Finish our tasks and end the round.”

“Where’s the fun in that, though?” says Astro from the floor.

As Etho opens his mouth to respond, Joker bursts into the room and dives behind Etho, who spins round to find Skizz skidding to a halt outside admin. “Where is he?!” he snaps, panting heavily. “I’m gonna kill that idiot!”

“What’s going on?” Brody demands. “Who are you talking about?”

“JOKER! He said my mohawk looks like a dead bush!”

Relaxing, Brody rolls his eyes. “Oh no. How terrible. He’s a MONSTER. We’d better throw him out the airlock right now.”

“Sarcasm duly noted,” Skizz huffs. “Where IS Joker, anyway?”

Brody jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “Hiding under the admin table.”

“Brodyyyyy!” comes Joker’s muffled voice.

Skizz walks into the room and takes note of the group of people setting up the pillows and blankets over the top of the admin table. “So what’s going on here? Boy scout sleepover?”

“Yup,” Astro responds with a grin. “Do you have a problem with that?”

After a moment, Skizz shakes his head. “Nope. Can I borrow a cushion to hit Joker in his stupid face?”

“No,” says Astro firmly.

“Can I suffocate him in a blanket?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Can you relax and stop being a stupid schoolteacher for ten seconds?”

“Not if it means letting you try to kill Joker.”

“C’mon, I’m not ACTUALLY gonna kill him,” complains Skizz. “There’s no imposters this round, remember.”

“Mhm.”

Within five minutes, everyone is huddled under the blanket fort over the admin table, using a rusty lantern as a light source. It’s fairly roomy inside the makeshift tent, but the ten people are still sitting fairly close together.

“So now what?” Brody asks after a while. “Are we gonna talk about something?”

“How about we discuss what kind of dead bush Skizz’s hair looks like?” Joker asks innocently.

Skizz responds to this by whacking Joker in the face with a pillow, knocking him over backwards.

“Oh, report the body!” Tango yelps with a grin. “Skizz did it! Skizz did it!”

This causes the whole group to laugh, even Etho. After many rounds of chaos and suspicion, it’s nice to be able to joke around and relax a bit.

“How does it feel, huh?” Skizz smirks. “How does it feel to be hit with a taste of your own PILLOW?”

“Honestly, I deserved that.”

“Yeah you did.”

Joker yanks Skizz down next to him, grinning. “Shut up.”

A short pause follows this.

“This is the only round we’re gonna get like this, isn’t it?” asks Evil.

Etho nods. “Should be. Why?”

“Dunno. It just feels nice to just hang out with you all as a group and be happy. I love you guys so much.”

“I hate you,” Endless murmurs. “I hate you all.”

Immediately, the two people on either side of him grab him in a simultaneous hug. “Well too bad, cuz we love you,” Astro responds with a smile. “Grumpiness and all.”

A low groan comes from Endless, but everyone can see the hint of a smile on his face.

Etho sits back against the wall and gazes around at his friends. Mrs Tango is resting her head on Tango’s shoulder. Astro and Evil are still hugging and teasing Endless. Brody and Impulse are quietly chuckling together about something. Joker and Skizz have fallen asleep with the tops of their heads touching.

Even though Etho isn’t with anyone in particular at this moment, he still feels connected to his friends. He’s alone but he’s not lonely. And that’s a rare thing for him.

This group really is his family.