#without actually goin through your blog

[romijuli]

Sakumasu, Misuomi, Citokazu!!

OOP got distracted like as soon as i got home dhksahgldg if anyone else wants in just...throw me a ship

under the cut!!!!

SAKUMASU MY BELOVEDS my favorite masumi ship and one of my favorite sakuya ships!!! the bit in act 1 where masumi overhears sakuya talking to izumi and like IMMEDIATELY shifts his approach to rehearsals b/c he relates drives me INSANE ugh fuck i love them. (honestly i love them in any sort of relationship dynamic but also shoutout to sakumasu qpr which i love and is canon to permanent marker-)

this is the part where i admit that despite me being in multishipping hell, for SOME reason my brain tends to stick with tsuzumisukazu ( + sakuya and mizuno, thanks juju) when i think about misumi and kazunari ships and for whatever reason i just????? don't think about omi ships a lot in general????? i am SO sorry omi my guy you deserve better. BUT i think omi deserves someone as cheery as misumi and misumi deserves someone as dependable and comforting as omi :)

see above note re: my brain's weird approach to college boy ships but honestly???? these two are rotating in my brain now because i think the concept of masking and facades are SO neat with them. consumed by the desire to rework rpw plans or at least pop them into free day or something

[vhagarlovebot]

VALENTINE’S DAY.

pairing: modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader.

summary: on valentine's day everything seems to have a discount for couples, so why not pretend to be one to save some money and have fun?

content warnings: fake dating trope, hurt/comfort, pining, some mildly suggestive content, confessions.

note: hello, lovely reader ! i just want to say a few things before you start reading. this was one of my first ever works here on this app but in a different blog way back when i used to write for the marauders. this was actually a request sent to me from a prompt list i can’t find anymore, and it was about sirius black. i edited it the best i could, so you’re probably still going to see some very poor grammar and it’s because i’d just started writing in english and because of that it is completely normal for me to still have problems writing in a language that isn’t mine. i really hope you enjoy! reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.

“YOU SHOULD COME WITH US.” your friend maris says, applying lipstick in front of her mirror.

“and be the third wheel?” you ask from your spot on her bed, flipping through the pages of a magazine. “it’s bad enough you are dating my brother.” sighing, you toss the magazine having lost all your attention. “besides, i’m sure aegon and aemond are on their way.”

at the sound of their names, cregan’s head appears in the door. “you didn’t hear?”

“what?” you roll your eyes.

“aegon has a date.” the couple says, looking at each other, and then you.

“he what? fucking traitor.” you get up, going for your phone. “didn’t even have the decency to tell me. but he’s go—aemond is calling me… i swear to the seven if he’s going to cancel our plans i’m goin’ to kill myself.”

cregan laughs, calling you a dramatic as he walks away.

“you heard?”

aemond laughs. “yea’, i played matchmaker.”

“aemond?!”

“stop being so dramatic, i’m on my way.”

“and who the fuck is his date?” you ask again.

you hear him sigh, but you really want to know who’s this girl your friend is ditching you for. “just a friend.” his answer doesn’t make you feel better at all. it’s silly but this tradition of the three of you eating junk food and watching slasher movies has been going on for three years. it all started the valentine’s day your useless ex-boyfriend dumped you and both of them cancelled their dates to stay with you. you never really thought this day would come.

“it’s okay, just one more reason to be mad about.” you collapse on the couch, going immediately for the remote to search for a movie. “you bringing the food, right?”

“about that…” you sigh, ready to be stood up. “maybe we should go out.”

“what?”

“just make sure to be ready by the time i get there.”

then the call cuts out.

maris and cregan look puzzled at you, asking what’s going on without actually asking. you shrug and that is the only answer you give them, because you really don’t know what his plans are.

and not even five minutes have passed when aemond is knocking on the door.

an expression of pure terror crosses your face and before cregan opens the door, you run to maris’ bedroom.

“what’s going on?” she asks, her dress half buttoned.

“aemond said something about going out,” you explain while going through her clothes. “and m’not going out in sweatpants.”

you find a red skirt that goes with one of your tops and with a little help from your raven-haired friend you have as a roommate, ten minutes later, with an “are you done?” coming from the living room, you are ready to go to wherever your friend is taking you.

aemond is chatting with cregan, neither of them aware of your presence, so you take the time to look at him… like really look at him.

he’s wearing his leather jacket, the one he got during sixth year at boarding school and hasn't taken off since then, the same one you used to see girls wearing all around campus when he was with them. never the same girl twice. aemond is dressed entirely in black and you can see his chest peeking out from his button down.

aemond catches you staring and looks at you with a raised eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips, only to show you what’s behind his back; a bouquet of roses. it’s part of the tradition but it still makes your heart beat faster. you accept it with a smile, smelling them and leaving the bouquet on the table.

you pout, crossing your arms. “are you going to tell me what you have planned?”

“nope, let’s go.” aemond grabs your arm, dragging you out of there.

“no, seriously, he’s kidnapping me and you’re not doing anything.” you protest, looking back at your brother who just laughs, waving you goodbye. “i’m telling mom and dad!”

the door closes behind you and you let him walk you out of the building.

“aaand?” you ask once more, walking down the street, your arm around his.

you see couples everywhere, a few of them with flowers and balloons, holding hands, radiating love. and a part of you wishes for something like that. maybe not the balloons and a lot less cheesy, but the commitment, the tender love, someone with whom you can share your thoughts with, your nights, your future. you want to feel the passion, the need to have someone kissing every part of you, worshiping your body, sleepless night with bodies intertwined. you don’t want a one-night thing; you want it all.

“there’s a restaurant with discount for couples and is giving dessert for free.” his lilac eye looks straight into yours, a lopsided smile on his face. “and i was thinking about eating there, then bring dessert home and watch texas chain saw massacre on your couch.”

“that sounds like a great idea.” you smile, walking beside him a little more excited than before.

“you know we’ll have to pretend to be a couple, right?” he stops walking.

you roll your eyes. “know your limits.”

“i’m serious!”

“i know you've been dying to kiss me since forever, but that’s only going to happen in your dreams.”

he brings a hand to his chest, feigning sadness. “you are cruel.”

you slap his arm, pushing him aside. “fine, but keep your hands to yourself. i’m not one of your groupies.”

“you could be.”

“in your dreams.” he just laughs, walking by your side.

neither of you spoke again, but every time his arm grazed against yours a cold shiver ran down your spine. and that is something you haven’t felt since seventh year, when you walked in on aemond having sex with a girl and couldn’t look him in the eyes for weeks. you weren’t exactly quiet, dropping the books was what gave you away, and the girl was focused on something else, that being her body being pushed against the bed, so the only one who saw you was him. you’d think he would stop, maybe feel embarrassed, right? that is not aemond targaryen. he just kept doing it, eye focused on yours, on the way you held your breath when he moved his pelvis a certain way making her cry out. you were frozen in place, your eyes going from the spot where their bodies met to his eyes, and it was only when he moaned something that sounded a lot like your name, you got out of there.

you couldn’t look at him, opting instead on avoiding him and all the questions from your friends. eventually, what you saw was left in the past, even though he tried to talk about it you didn’t give him the chance. you couldn’t. even if a part of you wanted to know what he was going to say, even if you spent the rest of the year dreaming about it, wishing to be one of those girls. even if you still want to be one of those girls.

“oh gods.” you say, stopping in front of a sushi restaurant full of valentine’s day decorations.

the host greets you and aemond immediately gets into character, hand going to your lower back, right where your top meets the skirt, leaving a few centimeters of bare skin. your whole body reacts at that and it’s like touching the sun.

the whole place is full of heart-shaped balloons hanging from the ceiling, the tables have red tablecloths with red roses in vases, and each one of them is named after a romcom.

“your table.” the host smiles, stepping aside.

“no strings attached? really?” you could cry at how cheesy, awkward and stupid everything is.

“i wanted that one with matthew mcconaughey because it is your favorite, love. but it was already taken.” he seems genuinely sad and you smile, fixing the collar of his button down.

“it’s okay, aem.” you kiss his cheek. “thank you.” you give the man standing in front of you a smile and sit in the booth. it’s discrete and you are grateful for that, not wanting to pretend the whole time you are going to be there, afraid of arousing suspicion.

“your waiter is going to be here any minute. if you’ll excuse me.” the host walks away and you can finally breathe normally.

aemond sits beside you and when you make eye contact, it’s impossible not to laugh.

“i can’t believe we are doing this.” you hide behind your hands, making him laugh even more.

“i knew you’ll like it.” aemond winks at you. “no, but really, i can’t believe how they do this.”

“and how people like it.” you pretend to throw up, and he laughs again. “but at the same time it’s kind of cute?”

“are you serious?”

“it’s cute to see couples enjoying this day, going to restaurants like this and enjoy each other’s company.” you shrug, playing with the rose petals, avoiding eye contact.

“you want that?” he asks, moving closer, creating a bubble around the two of you.

“yeah.” this time you look up, meeting his eye looking intently at you. “i’ve wanted it for a long time, but i think i’m not made for that.”

aemond must see the sadness on your face, because he places his hand on top of yours. you smile, feeling the sudden urgency to run your fingers through his hair.

“i know the right guy for you is out there, maybe you just need to pay more attention.”

“you think so?” you lean towards him, whispering.

“maybe what you’re looking for is… right in front of you.”

you smell the cigarettes and peppermint on his breath and are almost able to see and count all the freckles on his face, you just need to move a little closer to know if his lips are as soft as they seem.

“aemond targaryen?”

a third voice startles both of you, and just like that the moment has passed.

a blonde girl stands in front of the table and by the pad and pencil in her hands you know she’s the waiter. she has green eyes and a bright smile addressed to aemond.

“do you—you known each other?” you ask when a minute has passed and none of them has said a word.

“um, yeah.” aemond moves away from you, hands resting on his thighs.

“i think the word known falls short.” the girl giggles and you want to throw up.

“i thought you were off tonight.” it’s like you are invisible for him right now.

in any other circumstance you wouldn’t care, but not today. not right now, not after what almost happened a moment ago, because you’re a hundred percent sure that if this girl hadn’t shown up you two would be doing a totally different thing.

“i didn’t know you were in a relationship.” her green eyes look at you. “i mean, if i’d known i wouldn’t have gone to your apartment yesterday.” there’s poison in her words, she’s doing it on purpose to hurt you, and succeeding.

you chuckle, closing your eyes. why does it hurt?

aemond says something and you immediately let your guard down, allowing you to believe, and wish, and dream about things that most likely aren’t going to happen. ever.

you thought the little crush you used to have on your brother’s best friend had vanished, but one night with him was enough to know that aemond targaryen still has power over you. that’s why you are never alone with him; you don’t trust yourself.

you never made a big deal about it until that incident in seventh year. that was the moment everything changed. but you were able to get over it, or so you thought.

“it’s okay.” you smile, trying not to look at aemond at all. “we’re just pretending, aemond wanted to get the discount.”

she giggles again. “couples only, sorry.” she doesn’t look sorry at all. “i’ll give you time to look at the menu.” with a flirty little smile, she disappears.

“why did you do that?” aemond asks, touching your arm for a second before you move away. you don’t want him to think something’s wrong, but it’s a little hard for you to pretend you’re not hurt.

“did what?” you play dumb, pretending to look at the menu.

“why did you tell her we’re not together?”

you frown. “’cause we’re not? and you had sex with her yesterday, if we’re going to pretend at least let me have some dignity.”

“you are getting it all wrong.” he huffs, running his hands through his hair. “if you let me explain—”

“you have nothing to explain, aemond.” you say, looking at him and trying to swallow the urge to scream. “i know how you are, we’re friends, remember?”

“but—”

“you know what? i think i would rather order something from mcdonald’s and call it a night.” smiling, you touch his hand trying to make it look like everything’s okay and you don’t want to jump in front of the blonde girl and scratch her face. “you are more than welcome to join.”

you don’t give him time to say something else, standing and walking out of the restaurant in less than a minute. not bothering to look back to know if he’s following, all you want to do is choke on ice cream and watch a movie, the thing you should be doing tonight in the first place.

the night is cold, but it helps to clear your mind.

you’re not even a block away, when his voice makes you stop in your tracks. “i like you.”

you’re surprised by his confession, even a little flame of hope taking place in your heart.

“tonight was supposed to be fun.” aemond sighs, and you know he’s scratching his neck, something he usually does when he’s nervous. “but i messed everything up.”

you stopped breathing after his first confession, but you still can’t turn around because you’re a coward, not sure what to do with a confession you have been dying to hear for so many years.

“i didn’t have sex with her.” you hear his footsteps and, in a second, he’s in front of you, his fingers lifting your chin up, lilac eye locked fixed on your face. “and haven’t had any in a very long time.”

“what?” you can’t hide the surprise in your voice.

he chuckles. “i know i haven’t been good at showing it, but i’ve had a crush on you since forever.”

“stop messing with me, aemond.” you don’t want to believe him, you really want to walk past him and forget this night happened at all. but the part inside of you that still wants this to be real, won’t let you.

“m’not!” both his hands are now on each side of your face, the only thing you can see is his good eye, his lips, the longing on his face. “i’ve wanted to tell you for a very long time… seventh year, to be exact.”

your eyes open a lot more at that. “are you—”

“yes.” he chuckles, his cheeks a soft pink. “it was stupid, but i thought you would take the hint. after all, i moaned your name on purpose.”

“shut up!” your face is burning, you don’t even need a mirror to know you’re blushing hard. “you were having sex with another girl, aemond.”

“but i was thinking of you.”

“that does not make me feel better, y’know.” you step away from him, taking some distance.

“i know, i’m an idiot.”

you silently agree, not jnderstand anything, tonight has been a blurry, a lot of things happening in so little time. old feelings resurfacing, jealousy, heartbreak, happiness.

“but i like you too, idiot.”

his face lights up. “i knew.”

“you—what?” you frown, heart about to get out of your chest.

“i had a feeling.” he shrugs, slowly getting closer to you again, making sure you are not running away this time.

“are you serious?”

“i think i just buried ‘em because was sure nothing was ever going to happen. you were, well, you. and i was not willing to suffer because of those feelings.” your arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers interlocking in his soft hair.

“i always thought you deserved much better. and i was a total coward, too afraid of not being what you expected.” he smiles, his hands going to your waist and caressing your soft and delicate skin, still burning for his touch. “and i kept denying it and denying it. denying that my heart beats faster every time you walk into a room, that i want to kiss you every time you laugh, every time you make fun of cregan, or cry watching animal planet, or talk about what you like and don’t like. that the only thing i’ve wanted for years has been to hold you in my arms and touch every part of your body, to make you feel what i feel. to show you what love really means, to show you things you haven’t experienced before. and just… to be by your side.”

all you feel is him, his calloused hands creating patterns on your bare skin, his peppermint breath, his warm, rich, woody scent engulfing you. and for the first time in years, you let those feelings rise to the surface. you let yourself burn for aemond targaryen.

[babyhatesreality]

Hi if you take request I just have this in my mind:

Sometimes when you are somewhere outside (like in a mall) you get distracted by all those people and colorful stores. And if you don’t hold your daddies hands you will easily go another way.

So what if she is to distracted by something and Steve and Bucky just further without noticing that she didn’t follow (maybe they are stressed or smt like that) and she just follows someone who looks like one of her daddy’s and she only notices later that this was not her daddy and she was lost.

Okay so first things first, I'm old and don't know how to put the two similar asks together nicely so here’s a screenshot and get off my lawn. :P (edited to add: Also for @justme1234456 who requested this too!<3)

Second, I had to alter both asks a bit to align it with what I see as canon in my AU. I really hope that’s okay, and I’m sorry if this isn’t what you were looking for. I have to be honest about what I think could actually happen in this little world I’ve created otherwise I just can’t write it truthfully. If that offends anyone, I’m truly sorry for hurting feelings, and I encourage you to find what you’re needing with many of the other insanely-more-talented-than-I-am writers on this site. 

Break Away

Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x little f!reader

Warnings: DDLG (SSC), language, pet names, praise, scared reader, angst, tears, large and pushy crowds, overprotective Papa and Daddy, fluff fluff fluff and did I mention fluff? 

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS STORY IS SFW- THE REST OF MY BLOG IS NOT NECESSARILY SO. MINORS DNI. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, COPIED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY OTHER SITE BUT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated. 

What started as a nice walk in the park quickly turned into one of their worst nightmares. 

It had been raining for days in New York. Normally you wouldn’t have minded, having a massive pile of toys to play with and books to have read to you, and an endless supply of other family members in the tower to keep you entertained. But you were fidgety, constantly needing to be on the move. Your daddies had taken you to the big gym floor and set you loose on the giant running track, they’d taken you to the Olympic-sized indoor pool, and they’d even managed to convince Tony to let them take the Quinjet on a quick spin around the state. All of which managed to keep you satisfied...for that day. Then the next day they’d find you with your nose pressed up against the sliding glass door to the patio, watching the pouring rain, asking politely if you could go outside. Four thousand times in a row. 

Finally the rain let up right before your bedtime, and the ground became okay enough to not be a giant puddle by morning. You were so excited about going outside, wiggling around so much, that Bucky later grumbled to Steve that it had been easier escaping from the German army than getting you into your coat and rain boots. 

“We goin’ to the park, we goin’ to the park, we goin’ to the PAAAAAAAAAAARK!!!” you sung at the top of your little lungs, running back and forth with joy as you held onto Steve and Bucky’s hands, walking through the hallways of the tower. You squealed in delight when they both lifted their arms in tandem, swinging you into the air. “Again again please!!” you begged, laughing uproariously with delight when they obliged. 

Steve grinned down at you as you giggled gleefully. He was craving the fresh air just as much as you were and felt as joyful as you did. “Okay, so when we get to Central Park, what are you going to do, angel?” he asked you. 

“Hold your hand always!”

“That’s my smart girl. You hold my hand or Daddy’s hand at all times. And what happens if we get separated and you don’t see us?”

“Look for a ‘Venger to help!” 

“Right again! I’m so proud of you!” You giggled and blushed, wiggling around extra hard to let Papa know how happy his praise made you. “Now. Last one. If you don’t see someone who can help you, what do you do?”

“Light up shoes and stay PUT!”

“Great job, baby!” Steve cheered, suddenly swinging around and lifting you up into the air while you laughed crazily. All the littles in the Avengers Tower had light up shoes with tiny trackers in them, so if anything ever happened to them outside the tower and they were in little space, they’d always have a tracker on them that a caregiver could follow. It wasn’t too hard to convince any little to wear the shoes that lit up when they stomped; in fact, you all had gone through several pairs of light up shoes, delighted at the light up features. Hey, the system worked. 

Bucky grinned at the two of you, reaching back out for your hand the moment your feet touched the ground. “Good job remembering the rules, Trouble,” he said. You wiggled with joy and blushed again, making him chuckle. He looked up at his husband. “You sure you wanna try this without caps and glasses?” he asked again, raising his eyebrows. “No disguises at all?”

Steve smile warmly at his worrywart husband. “We’re not undercover, Buck. We live in this city too, and everyone already knows it anyways. It’ll be okay, and if it’s not, we’ll just ask people to respect our space or we’ll go a different direction. It’ll be fine.”

Bucky kept the smile, but tightened his grip on your hand. 

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

A little while later, the three of you were enjoying the birds singing, the fresh, cool breeze blowing through the trees, and the hum of human activity all around you. It was so lovely, it seemed like everyone in New York City was trying to get outside to see the sun. You held tight to your daddies’ hands, but your head was constantly whipping around, trying to take in all the sights at once.  

Suddenly, there was a scream in the distance. Bucky and Steve’s heads snapped in the direction of the sound automatically, their grips tightening on yours. Out of nowhere, this group of seven or eight teens came barreling at the three of you, all with their phones out, screaming about Captain America and The Winter Soldier. With the speed of light, Bucky tucked you underneath his vibranium arm, cuddling you against his body to keep you safe. This meant you had to let go of Papa’s hand, and you tried to turn your head to make sure he was okay, but Daddy’s grip on you was too strong and you couldn’t see him. 

Before you knew it, the crowd grew suddenly larger, and you heard people pointing at the group of teens in recognition- they were something called a...’influencer’ or a ‘TikTok star’ or something...you didn’t understand all the yelling. You got very, very still, hanging desperately onto Daddy’s shirt as he tried to be polite- Avengers had an image to maintain, especially the ‘reformed’ ones like him- but get these people to back off. 

One of the boys grabbed onto the vibranium arm that was holding you, screaming about how cool it was. It scared you so badly, not seeing this boy until his hands were reaching right where you were at and the loudness, that you stumbled backwards, causing you to slip out from underneath Bucky’s arm.

 Bucky’s head whipped around the second he lost contact with you. “Steve!” he hollered over the melee as he tried to move the kid away from you. “Get her!” All you caught was a glimpse of Steve’s searching blue eyes before a tidal wave of people crashed into you. It was insane- some sort of mob mentality had taken over. Between the two famous Avengers and the internet sensations surrounding them, everyone lost their minds. You tried to push against the tide, tried desperately to keep your eyes on either of them, but the crush of the crowd was too much. Your throat choked up in fear- you couldn’t even call out for them. You were carried away by the wave. It seemed to go on forever and you couldn’t stop it as it pushed you farther and farther away. 

Finally there was a break in the people that had been crowding you, and you pushed with all your might to get free of the mob. Trying to keep calm and be brave, you looked around, remembering Rule #2 as hard as you could. Your heart leapt when you saw a long mane of red hair a distance away, and you instantly ran towards it, thinking it was Aunt Natasha. Just as you were about to throw your arms around the woman, she suddenly turned. It wasn’t Auntie Nat. You mumbled an awkward apology and ran in the other direction, embarrassed. 

Gulping hard to try to keep your scared sobs inside, you came to a halt. You looked around and didn’t see anything you recognized. There was a pretty, tall fountain with an angel on top close to you, but you didn’t remember it from before. “Light up shoes and stay put,” you whispered to yourself. “Light up shoes and stay put.” You stomped your feet as hard as you could, seeing the rainbow lights activate. You looked around desperately, waiting for them to come and rescue you. You stomped harder and harder, the tears building in your eyes. No Papa. No Daddy. You slowly walked the few steps to the fountain and carefully sat down, the tears now running down your face. Every now and then, you stomped your feet to keep the shoes lit up. “Please find me,” you whispered tearfully, pleading into the air. 

Suddenly, there were shrieks and gasps coming from in front of you. You looked up to see people suddenly rushing to the sides, looking like they were dodging to get out of the way of a speeding train. And they were. A speeding train in the form of Daddy. 

Bucky came racing towards you faster than you’d ever seen anyone run. You could almost see the flames coming off his feet. The crowd parted for him, but he didn’t give two flying fucks if he ran any of them over. With barely a bend of the knees, he came flying over the stone balustrade walls surrounding the fountain, his eyes locked on your tiny form. All you could do was reach your hands to him before he reached you, scooping you up and crushing you to his chest like he was never going to let you go again. 

You just clung to him, still too frightened to do anything else. “Hey, it’s okay baby, it’s okay, Daddy’s here. Daddy’s here and he’s not letting you go,” Bucky was murmuring into your ear, so fast you could barely make out the words. “I am so sorry baby. Daddy will never let that happen again, you hear me? Never again. Never, never again. I’m right here.” You just whimpered and nodded, your tears soaking the front of his shirt. You heard another set of feet come to a screeching halt near you, but you were still too worked up to turn to see if it was Papa. You knew if it wasn’t, Daddy was going to keep you safe, and that was all you could handle at the moment. “Deep breaths, baby, can you do that for me? Can you take some deep breaths?” Daddy asked frantically, tilting his head back to look at you. “Can you take some deep breaths with me? Some deep breaths with Daddy?” You managed to nod again, and relief flooded his face. “That’s my good girl. Okay, we’re gonna sit down and take some breaths together.”

Bucky sat on the edge of the fountain where he’d found you. He turned you in his lap so you could see Steve sitting next to the both of you. Your left hand shot out instantly, needing to touch him too. Steve took your hand, covering it with his other, stroking and patting it, his eyes a warring storm of fear and relief, while Bucky held you tight, 

“Okay, baby, let’s breathe together. You remember how we breathe when we’re scared?” Daddy asked, looking down at you, his tone a bit calmer now. You could see he was still struggling too, and that gave you the nudge to be brave enough to breathe together. You nodded. “We can do it. We’ll do it together, Daddy and Baby. Okay, here we go. Breathe in.” You two locked eyes and breathed in, Bucky counting as he inhaled. “One, two, three, four,” he said on the air, then nodded at you. You held your breath with him as his lips moved, counting to four again, but not letting any air out. “Breathe out, one, two, three, four, five, six,” Bucky said, keeping his eyes locked on you while you went through the exercise together. He silently counted to six as you held your breath again. You went through the cycle three times together, feeling better and better each time. When you finished, Daddy smiled proudly at you. “I knew you could do it, Baby. Daddy loves you so much.”

“Love you too Daddy,” you said, tucking your forehead into his chest again, happy that he was okay now too. You brought Papa’s hand up to your face. “Love you too Papa.” You squeezed his fingers, pressing them in to your cheek.

“Papa loves you so much,” Steve responded, his voice tight with emotion. “Are you okay honey?” You pursed your lips for a moment, but nodded. 

“M’okay. Big peoples.”

“Yeah, that crowd was crazy, right?”

“Too loud.”

“Definitely too loud. I’m so sorry baby, that should never have happened.”

“They all go away?”

“Yeah, they’re all away now. You remember how Uncle Tony says that he can watch everybody everywhere?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, he saw on his cameras that the mean crowd was bothering us and his flying suits came to help.”

“WOW.”

“We’ll have to thank him when we get home.”

“Okay, I help.”

Both your daddies chuckled, relieved that you were starting to sound like you again. “What do you think, Baby? Do you want to go home?” Bucky asked, bouncing you a little, trying to gauge how you were feeling. 

“Um,” you said. Now that you were over the fear, you weren’t QUITE ready to be back inside just yet. “We look at duckies please?” The men exchanged a quick look, checking in with each other, before they turned back to you, smiling. 

“Okay, Trouble, we will go look at the ducks,” Bucky said softly, before placing a kiss on your forehead. “Good manners.” He stood up and was about to tell you that you were only staying at the park if he carried you for the rest of the day, but the iron grip you had on his tee shirt and the way your legs locked around his waist let him know that you had no intention of being set down, anyways. He pressed another kiss into your hair. 

They walked to a quieter section by the water, grinning and laughing as you insisted on pointing to each and every duck, naming them one by one. After about ten minutes, Steve got a pedicab to get you all back to the street so you wouldn’t have to walk through all the people again. You’d made a full recovery by the time you all got back to Avengers’ Tower, babbling excitedly about all the ducky friends you’d made today and making plans to bring them bread tomorrow.

But Bucky still didn’t set you down for the rest of the evening. And you were okay with that. 

[chaosandbubbles]

Stargazing // Jason Kolchek Drabble

Jason Kolchek X Female Reader

A/N: This drabble was originally written for @yeslieutenant or @obsessedwithtoomanythings. Go follow her! She's great! Just another repost as I move things over to this blog. You also know me as yellowroseskolchek but that bitch is burned now.

WARNINGS AND TAGS: Depression, simp!Jason(honestly do we expect anything different from me at this point?!),

Word Count: 482

Jason Masterlist, Main Masterlist

"I don't know, man, she's just been lying there, staring at the ceiling," Nick sighed, gesturing vaguely to where you were lying in the middle of the room, pretending that the dots on the ceiling were tiny stars and that you were outside. Maybe camping with your family, or--Stargazing. No, you were definitely Stargazing.

"And you ain't got a clue as to why she's hangin' out...on the floor?" Jason asked, again, biting his lip as his mind raced with worries about you. "In her pajamas?"

"No," Nick answered, shaking his head. "It's like I said, man, she ain't talkin' to anybody. Just laying there, mumbling something under her breath and staring at the ceiling."

"I'll go talk to her," Jason insisted, straightening out his shirt and hurrying over to you without so much as another word to Nick.

Jason had been harboring a crush on you since you'd shown up here, at Camp Slayer, beautiful and completely different than any other woman he had ever met. You were tough, funny, and confident--it was like you really knew who you were, and what you wanted and Dear God, it was so sexy.

He'd never seen you like this before, though. Despondent, numb, quiet.

"Hey," Jason greeted as he approached you, kneelin' down to get a little bit closer to you. "Are you, uh, are you feelin' alright?"

Your only answer was a sigh, but you turned your face to him, your eyes bloodshot and exhausted. That only confused him more—he figured maybe you'd been cryin', or you were upset about somethin'---but you looked totally vacant, like there were no emotions at all goin' through your head.

"I didn't sleep last night," you replied, finally, after a few long moments. "I haven't slept in like, a month, actually."

"A month?!" Jason exclaimed, and your head turned away from him, staring at the ceiling again. "Y/n, that's not healthy; are you sick?"

"I'm depressed." The words came out straightforward, monotone. Jason gulped, unsure of how to navigate this—never having had to deal with this sort of thing before. "And I'd just like to lay here, pretending that the patterns are actually stars and I'm somewhere better than this, okay?!"

Jason sighed then, nodding, but what really caught you off-guard was when he suddenly laid down next to you, lying an arm around his own stomach and pressing his head next to yours.

You stiffened, blinking back tears and your voice cracking and desperate in the first show of emotion from you today when you asked: "What are you doing?!" 

Jason turned his face to yours and you must have felt it, turning your face to his as well, nose-to-nose.

"I'm Stargazin' with my favorite person on base," Jason answered nonchalantly, his hand intertwining with yours. "For as long as she needs me to."

Maybe Jason was different from other men you knew, too.

Jason taglist: @house-of-kolchek @kawaiiwitch224 @inactiveforidk @lorebite @yeslieutenant @kassiekolchek22 @pechvogel @buttermykolchek @emilykolchivans @e-jaegerenthusiast

forever taglist: @house-of-kolchek @lorebite @yeslieutenant @kassiekolchek22 @buttermykolchek @kawaiiwitch224 @ageofbajabule

[peoplcshope]

GET TO KNOW YOUR ADMIN !!

name — Jay

pronouns — I'm/Him j/k he/him

preferred comms — Discord or LINE granted I'm sometimes slow with replyin' mostly due to work and at other times it's distractions like gaming. Or maybe some errands.

name of muse — Trunks Briefs

experience in RP — over ten years, started first on a site called Myspace then drifted through different other roleplaying sites and forums until I eventually gotten here.

best experiences — I once had to answer a question like this on another blog and the answer was just...man too much too ready because the experiences were countless. Whenever I meet a mun and then we just hit it off to the point we're discussing our muses for hours and hours over discord. Or even doing little mini threads on discord, those are really THE best experiences in roleplay.

pet peeves/dealbreakers — When people get on my ass for a response, little 'hey I'm just reminding you that you still probably have a post of ours lost in drafts or BLESS the people that link me to something I missed through the activities. Those peeps are a Godsend but the fuckers that just dick ride you for a response? They can go to tell, harrassing you for a response day in and day out like bro that'd make your reply even LESS than a priority. This shit's a hobby, not our lives.

muse preference ( fluff, angst, smut ) — I don't have much of a preference, I'd say give me ALL OF THOSE but I mean if I HAD to choose one It'd be angst. Oh people that knows me KNOWS I love putting not just mine but my writing partner's muses through emotional damage.

plot or memes — Give me a meme any day. I love plotting too but with plotting comes over-excitement and there's gonna be a moment IN the story you're plotting that you just CAN'T wait to get to but your ass has to wait because LORD knows it could be after the roleplay's timeskip or even far down the line into the future. Then again even with memes eventually that thread is going to be thought about and plotted..can't win XD

long or short replies — Write what you feel I always say (and it's not cause i'm bad at long posts I swear XD) sometimes when things need a little explanation you gotta go all out and send something long but sometimes that's not the case and it's okay.

best time to write — For me it's just at the crack of 4AM or 5AM when i wake up for work and then a little after im back by evening. Those are really my best times to write.

are you like your muse?: NOT AT ALL, not even a little bit, in personality he's nicer than I can ever be, temperament I'm even further behind, believe me I WISH I could be like Trunks but if I'm honest I CAN DO WITHOUT HIS TOUGH LIFE. The man may look like he's got everythin' goin' for him with how he looks, carries himself and whatnot but he's got WAY too much shit going on for me to actually want that life.

tagged: @particlecreator , @swordsxandxsakuras (thanks for tagging yo boy :D)

tagging: @acoldsovereign , @kiealer , @n3rdb0x , @hopefromadoomedtimeline , @infintasmal , @universestreasures , @eternalbxtterfly , @crimsontwins , @kaguyahiime , @ofhope , steal this one homies and tag me so I can learn a little bit bout you.

[adenthemage]

Hi first of all shoutout to you for going through my entire blog I love when people do that

Second of all you mentioned an OC in my post about a 2k3 separated AU and now I’m intrigued 👀

- teenagemutantninjatrauma

Hello!! First off no stress about the art blog this is gonna be rambly anyway so it fits lmao. Also I'm so glad!! I'm goin through a biiiiit of a revival of my childhood tmnt obsession and your blog has fed me, thank you very much.

Anyway rip you pushed the OC button so now I'm never gonna shut up.

So I've only recently started building OCs for 2k3 but the basic conceit is that it surrounds a division of EPF that specializes in cross-dimensional crises and anomalies. The OC I was referencing, that uses that concept of "what if Bishop had a good reason to keep a non-human under his employ" is named Franklin Ritter.

So the fun thing about Ritter is that they're a krang from the 2012 universe that tripped through a few portals and got stuck in 2k3. The original inspiration for them was an actual krang from the show who was animated to be unusually-expressive, compared to how the krang are usually portrayed. So I STOLE them and they're Ritter now.

The basic story beats go that Ritter got dumped into the 2k3 universe just as the Triceraton invasion was happening, beamed right into one of their ships rip. Freshly-freed from the hivemind, they were very invested in Not Dying, and as they were sneaking around they stumbled across a lone EPF Operative who had been unlucky enough to get trapped on the ship as it was taking off. Thinking Ritter's just some weird civilian, she refuses to leave them alone, and they end up fighting for their lives together to escape the ship. After which, of course, they kinda bonded.

This particular operative, turns out, is one of the more elite soldiers within EPF (a few headcanons went into her existence, like the idea that every once in a while Bishop will personally train a soldier who has already proven exceptional, and they will then be more trusted to run operations without him.) She thinks Ritter is a pretty good fighter, for a civilian, and wants to bring them on-board. Quite a bit of drama ensues after Ritter agrees, unaware of EPF's general sentiments towards, yknow, aliens. They do spend some time being experimented on, but eventually the operative, having good standing with Bishop, manages to argue they're an asset that can be utilized on the field. Ritter is allowed to work under her under the caveat that they always remain disguised, and if they ever screw up it's her job on the line.

That's the basic premise, anyway! I have spent a lot of thought on Bishop, EPF, and the particulars of how it might function, so most of my OCs surround that lol. They're all very new, but Ritter is definitely one of my favorites!

here's them btw:

[tupelooosstuff]

Ramblings no one will give a damn about

To the people in their late 20s and up;

I dont think its cool when you make fun of someone , for things they do or say. Or how they are. If you dont like someone, why are you soending your precious time on them? Why would you make plans with someone you dont like? Everyday i push bedtime off longer thsn i should going “fuck! There arent enough hours in the damn dat!” And the last thing i think i would do, is go for a walk in tbe park with someone who i find makes me lose brain cells. It just shows that you dont do anything of worth, because you can throw your time and attention away in the trash and waste it. You have notbing better to do than go somewhere just to collect gossip material

You could probably say im doing just that, but this is a little sifferent than gossiping about sally sue and why does she use a roller backpack!?? (Cause theyre fuckin cool and save my back from aching)

I like writing and i like doing jt often, it keeps my wit sharp and keeps me creative. It is where my level of creativity is greatest. The more practice i get the better i get at writing. Also, i find when im bitching i write so beautifully. It all just flows and comes so naturally. While i wish that wasnt the case, it is. And, im gonna rock it. We all have our niche right?

This is my first actual blog post, but i olan to post more from here on out, been goin through a rough patch, probably the worst one ive faced in my life. This time it wasnt w my head held high i stomped through the flames. I succumbed to it. Pretty good. And for some time. Kinda pulling myself through just now, it’s been some months. But writing my thoughts and feelings is a good outlet fir me so i told myself where can i write because i xant jusr write in a journal, the narcissistic traits in me make me want to screme my pain for the world to heae. I dont want anyone ti suffer alongside me i just feel like im always silenced and no one cares about what i have to say ir what j do. Just plaster their lavel on me without knowing a thing about me and walk on. Im tired if it. I dont even know exactly yet if im the good or if im the bad. Im so confused in life now i got shook uo so bad. I cant even tell just yet if im the same or if what i went through shook me up so bad im a while different being. In a way it gave me confidence to speak up and just stop giving a fuck and stop letting the side eyes and gossipers shut me up and put me down. I donno. Now idk where im going so thats it. I dont proof read i just post. Maybe ill stop that, just not tonight

[shriekthemighty]

I posted 546 times in 2022

20 posts created (4%)

526 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@dathen

@j-mart

@starsigna

@vaspider

@axolotlesque

I tagged 546 of my posts in 2022

#fanart - 210 posts

#the magnus archives - 184 posts

#jonathan sims - 91 posts

#critical role - 89 posts

#martin blackwood - 53 posts

#gerard keay - 52 posts

#stranger things - 47 posts

#eddie munson - 39 posts

#bell's hells - 31 posts

#our flag means death - 26 posts

Longest Tag: 66 characters

#ngl i got really confused about what his arms were doing at first

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

oh no guide is really goin through it now. i was so amused when it almost swore and then...

3 notes - Posted October 29, 2022

#4

after very determinedly getting through my first viewing of stranger things WITHOUT getting attached to the character i knew was going to die, i have now fallen straight into blorbo hell AND dragged my best friend into the fandom with my rewatch!

also i’m going to write fic if it kills me.

4 notes - Posted September 14, 2022

#3

Meet Juniper! He's definitely made the new house feel more like a home, snuggling with me in bed and running around the house like his tail is on fire. https://www.instagram.com/p/ChylwuHOyTi/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

4 notes - Posted August 28, 2022

#2

the euphoria and pride that comes with looking at a freshly assembled piece of furniture in your new home is rivaled only by the frustration and despair of actually putting it together.

6 notes - Posted August 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

i got unreasonably excited when kingsley pulled out the boat in a box because, let me tell you, one of our party members has one of those and they are SO USEFUL.

and in true dnd party fashion, i’m pretty sure we’ve only used it as a boat like, once, in a multiple year long campaign.

26 notes - Posted November 18, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[absolutepokemontrash]

I come bearing a request! The Brothers with an MC who's really good at cooking and baking? Like, the stuff food blogs dream of. Master-level instagram pastries. Could compete with the chocolate guy if they put their mind to it.

👀 ooooo, I do love me some pastries-

(I know you have an *ahem* distaste for Lucifer, dear moot, so enjoy Lucifer acting like a bit of a dingus in his section!)

Lucifer

Oh, the human can cook. *insert asshole eyeroll here*. Great. Wonderful. Groundbreaking. That’s what’s got all his brothers acting like- what was that word Levi used? Simps? This human has turned six of the seven rulers of hell into a bunch of simps.

Sure, the human has near godlike cooking prowess. Sure, everyone looks forward to their day for cooking. And sure, everyone thinks the human’s pretty great.

Tsk, not him though. He’s a refined demon. Some silly food isn’t going to make him a lovesick fool… did he smell eclairs..?

Lucifer peered into the kitchen to see MC carefully taking a tray of eclairs out of the oven and letting them cool off on the counter. His favourite dessert… right there in front of him…

Due to not being a total moron, MC notices Lucifer and asks him what the hell he’s doing just standing ominously in the doorway. Lucifer makes up some bullshit excuse about reminding MC to do their homework and just leaves. Okay, game plan, he needs those fucking eclairs or he will spontaneously combust.

As he snuck into the kitchen that night, Lucifer took a moment to briefly wonder why he was creeping around his own house. He was the Avatar of Pride for pity’s sake! He could eat whatever he damn well pleased! Oh shit was someone coming- no? Okay, back to sneaking.

Lucifer crept into the kitchen, saw the eclairs, and all logic was thrown out the window. Time to eat!

“BEEL NO! NOT THE- Lucifer..?” “…” “…” “…you’re very talented, MC, do you mind making more of these?”

SOMEONE SNAP A PICTURE! THIS IS THE CLOSEST LUCIFER HAS GOTTEN TO BEGGING IN THE LAST THOUSAND YEARS!

Mammon

Ugh, stuck babysittin’ some dumb human, how lame…

As Mammon was throwing a “I’m broke and I’m stuck in a pact with a dumb human” pity party, the most heavenly smell entered his nostrils. Cooking… good cooking… was Barbatos visiting or somethin’? Nah, Lucifer woulda made a big fuss about gettin’ ready for Lord Diavolo. Huh, so what was goin’ on in the kitchen?

Huh? The human? The human can cook? Well damn, maybe this whole deal wouldn’t be so bad. Oi! MC! As payment for babysittin’ ‘em, he got to have an extra big share of- OW!

Did- did the human just hit him with a spoon?! Th-they can’t do that!

Apparently they fucking can. Mammon gets told to sit the fuck down and wait for the food like everyone else. He grumbles on the way to the dining room, but he can’t fully hide his excitement to try the food.

The food even looked pretty! How did they do that?! Magic. It had to be!

After everyone’s tastebuds were blessed with the heavenly substance that is MC’s culinary exploits, Mammon decides he needs to get on this human’s good side in order to receive more food! Maybe even find some way to make a profit or somethin’!

After weeks go by of trying to suck up to the human without looking like too much of a chump, Mammon eventually realizes… hey, this human ain’t so bad. They’re nice, they make him feel good about himself, they give him headpats… he’s really hit the jackpot here!

He’ll offer to help MC bake or cook, but beware, he will try and sample the food before it’s done. Don’t let him lick the spoon!!!

Leviathan

First thought? This human ain’t shit. Thought after seeing their food? WOAAAAAAAH! JUST LIKE THAT ONE ANIME-

He was unceremoniously cut off by Beel asking demanding seconds. Humph, fine, he doesn’t actually care about this dumb normie food anyway.

…well at least until Levi saw a little something something on TV that he just had to ask MC to try and make. He shyly knocked on their door and when they answered, Levi shoved the screenshot in their face and stuttered out a dinner request.

On the day MC was supposed to make dinner, Levi poked his head into the kitchen and tried to make it look like he was just standing in the same room as MC and not checking to see if they were making his dinner request.

Not that he’d blame them for not doing that… who’d wanna make some anime dinner for a yucky Otaku- OMG JAHSHSHABA THEY’RE MAKING IT! *fangirl squeals*

As Levi continues to commit the SIN of being in the kitchen at the same time as someone else, MC eventually just asks him if he’d like to help out.

“Here! Just keep turning the takoyaki.” “R-really? You trust me?” “Yes, Levi. You watched how they made it on your show, right?” “Yes! I won’t mess up! I swear on my honour as an otaku!”

All in all, it was a very cute bonding experience for the two. Now it’s a regular thing. Levi requests something for dinner or dessert, MC makes it, Levi helps out.

Satan

So, the human can cook. That’s nice. At least someone in this literally god forsaken house can.

He makes sure to thank MC every time they cook, then he makes sure to thank whatever deity is watching over him that Solomon wasn’t the human staying with them.

As the months progress, Satan realizes, he should learn how to cook better. I mean, Levi and Mammon were somehow both improving in their cooking endeavours, and if MC could teach those two, then he would be a breeze.

Satan walked into the kitchen and simply asked if MC needed any assistance with what they were doing. MC just slid him some garlic to dice and that’s how this mentor/student relationship was formed.

Satan was a star pupil, but Mammon and Levi weren’t above trying to sabotage Satan’s progress to get him to leave.

Here’s the thing, the sabotage worked, but it only worked once, and the two idiots didn’t stop to think that maybe they shouldn’t sabotage the meal they were going to have to eat later.

Well, cooking lessons continued uninterrupted after the ghost pepper incident…

Even when he’s ‘graduated’ their little cooking class, Satan’s always willing to lend a hand if needed. He also will slyly hand over some recipe books and cute baking supplies that he finds. MC should be prepared for lots of cat related things to come their way.

Asmodeus

The human can cook? Oh frabcious day! He’s saved from a life of his brother’s mediocre cooking! And the human’s so cute too! What a bonus!

Not only is the human cute, but their food is just so… aesthetic??? Pretty???? Omigosh he just has to get a picture for Devilgram!

For the first few months, MC’s relationship with Asmo consists of Asmo not at all subtly asking to take pictures of their food and post it to his Devilgram. Listen MC, his followers would just love it!

Being the saint-sheep they are, MC lets Asmo sit in whenever they’re making anything in the kitchen. And Asmo slowly realizes “hey, this cute human with the awesome food is actually pretty cool too!”

New Mission: Make the human fall madly in love with him so they’ll want to hang out more.

Whether the mission succeeds is up to MC of course. (I mean, I’m already smitten with him sooooooooo-)

MC offers Asmo a lot of the pastries they make, but the Avatar of Lust almost always declines. Listen honey, he’s on a diet- wait, don’t make that sad face! He’ll eat it! Look! It’s- it’s delicious…

Diet cheat day is now every day MC makes dessert. The feeling of bliss Asmo gets when he takes a bite out of anything MC makes is only second of the treats is second only to the joy he feels at seeing MC happy that he likes their food. It’s just so wholesome I can’t-

MC’s food Devilgram has almost surpassed Asmo in terms of followers and honestly- he isn’t even mad.

Beelzebub

Gasp! Lucifer finally got him the pet personal chef he’d always wanted! Thanks big bro! :D he’ll be sure not to eat this human!

On the first night MC was supposed to make dinner, Lucifer needed to hold Beel back from breaking into the kitchen to see what was causing that heavenly smell. It was, difficult… especially because Lucifer hadn’t slept in three days.

When they all sat down to eat, Beel practically inhaled everything and held up his half bitten plate for seconds.

We here at Stupid Headcanons incorporated recommend that MC have as many bodyguards as possible stationed around the kitchen at all times to ward off a hungry Beel. We don’t want him eating the ingredients and half-tempered chocolate.

A cinnamon roll through and through, he’ll eat everything MC gives him with a big ol’ smile on his cute little face. He’s not the best person to go to if MC wants advice or critique because the best thing Beel can usually muster is “it was really good.”

As Luke said in Lesson 5, Beel would make an awful food reporter. But we love him.

Similar to Levi, he’ll give meal requests on what to make for dinner. (At this rate, MC’s going to have to make some kind of list).

He kind of just waits by the door like a sad puppy whenever MC is making anything because he can’t get into the kitchen :(

Belphegor

The smell of freshly made chocolate chip cookies wafting through the house did reach the attic and it only fuelled his rage more. How dare the human win everyone over with cookies?!

After the attic incident, Belphie was won over with cookies.

Belphie just stands creepily in the kitchen doorway whenever MC is making anything and just makes shit really uncomfortable. Why’s he doing that, you may be wondering, well, he’s trying to calculate the energy needed to swipe the bowl of cookie dough and sprint to safety.

He never succeeds, mainly because once he gets to the bowl, MC already has the wooden spoon ready to smack him, so he just freezes mid-theft and slowly puts the bowl down.

“Oh my gosh, it says let the bread dough rest overnight? Let’s get a headstart and go to sleep now.” “Belphie what-” “I made a pillow Fort, come in. Let’s sleep.” “In the kitchen????”

How’d he make the pillow Fort without MC noticing? Years of experience. He’s trained in the art of- MC? What do you mean you can’t sleep right now and you need to get a head start on shaping fondant?

…he may have eaten the fondant while MC wasn’t looking… whoops… Beel may have rubbed off on him a little…

[nev3rfound]

don't go yet, please : h.z

you shouldn't have followed after your dear friend, but then again, the baron should know better by now that you'll never be too far behind. (1.8k)

masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop - requests open!

requested: well I had a request from @geekgirlofarchangels for friends to lovers and this is what I came up with as I'm a bitch for zemo rn warnings: mentions of blood, descriptions from tfatws also a brief attempt at german (I'm sorry if it's terrible)

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved.)

It was one big mistake going along. You should've stayed back in the apartment as Zemo suggested. However, having been friends with the Baron for many years, he should know better by now than assume you'd do as he suggests.

Standing in the warehouse, you were watching Walker carefully. He was becoming twitchy, his patience clearly wearing thin. "It's too quiet." He states, looking over at Bucky who remains silent.

"I could check, but I am preoccupied here." Zemo chimes in, holding up his cuffed wrists, not missing the quiet chuckle from you.

"Tough crowd, Baron." You spare him a glance, noticing how he is already eyeing up the small lock on the cuffs.

"I'm going in," John steps forward, only to be blocked by Bucky.

That was the beginning of the end for things to work out smoothly. Sure, Zemo being handcuffed by Walker was one thing, but you knew Zemo well enough after all these years to know he'd be out of those within minutes. However, Walker himself was becoming a loose cannon, and you know what they say about those.

"It hasn't been ten minutes yet, John. Just sit tight." Bucky comments.

John continues to pace, nearing you and Zemo. "Don't do that, don't patronize me." John spits back, his breathing becoming frantic.

"He knows what he's doing." You speak up, ignoring Zemo muttering your name at the sight of John pausing and turning his attention to you. "Unlike some people."

"You might wanna watch yourself," John seethes, watching Zemo tug on his handcuffs. "and find better people to hang around with, sweetheart." He looks you up and down, forcing a smirk before focusing on the clock.

Stepping backwards, you can feel a hand brush across yours. Without looking, you accept it and squeeze it three times, relieved when he squeezes back.

"I'm goin' in." John marches toward Bucky, only to be pushed back. "This must be easy for you. With all that serum running through your veins." He scoffs. "Barnes, your partner needs backup in there. Do you really want his blood on your hands?"

The question hangs in the air too long, and without needing an answer, John shoves past Bucky with Lemar on his tail.

"Seriously?" You huff, moving toward Bucky and following behind him.

"Y/n," Zemo speaks up, his voice now echoing in the empty room. "you seem to be forgetting my situation." He motions to his cuffed hand.

"Well, Helmut," Slowly you walk toward him, crossing your arms over your chest whilst you try to suppress the grin forming on your lips. "I suppose you'll just have to get yourself out, you're a pro after all." You tease, turning around and leaving him be knowing he'll be right behind you in a matter of minutes.

*

Echoes of gunfire and voices bounce from the walls as you continue to run through the endless corridors, unsure where you're even heading.

Breathlessly, you find Sam who couldn't look more disappointed. "I was so close getting through to her." He admits, shaking his head. "Walkers lost control, Y/n."

"Where is he?" You ask, but Sam sighs. "I'll find him."

"Y/n," Bucky walks into the room. "I lost her." He states. "There's a dozen of them in there."

"This place is a maze." Sam mutters, taking his eye off you for a moment, just a moment long enough for you to slip out of the room and toward a spiral staircase.

If there's anything Zemo has taught you over the years, always look for a distraction. And for once, it's actually working in your favour.

Your feet guide you toward a large open part of the warehouse, lined with dusted windows.

"Don't," Karli yells, another round of shots being fired from someone whilst you remain out of sight, ducking behind one of the barrels.

Daring to peer around it, you swear to yourself seeing the Baron stood with his gun aimed at the young girl.

"This, this is all," Zemo keeps his gun trained on Karli whilst his attention shifts to the vials of serum beneath his feet. "wrong." He smiles to himself as he stamps on the first bottle, ignoring Karli's cries for him to stop.

"Helmut!" You yell, leaving your hiding spot and head straight toward him.

Before Zemo can finish his mission, his eyes widen at the sound of your voice. "Y/n?" He turns around, only to see the shield enter his peripheral a millisecond too late.

Falling to the ground with a dull thud, your out cold.

Unable to focus on anything else, Zemo rushes to your side. Blood marks your hairline from the impact and he lifts your head up, cradling it in his arms. "My liebling," Zemo mutters, brushing his fingers along the crimson dripping down your cheek. "why must you be so reckless?"

"I learn from the best." You weakly mutter, forcing your eyes to open despite the immense pain coursing through your head.

"What have you done?" Walker emerges from the shadows, a darker look across his eyes that Zemo easily recognises. "You'll pay for this," Zemo seethes, reaching for his gun as his hand shakes, crimson coating his fingertips.

John laughs and steps toward the pair of you, noting you trying to stay awake with little success. "I don't think I will somehow." John states confidently, tearing Zemo's gun from his grip and throws it forcefully against the wall, breaking it into pieces. "Have fun, Zemo." John salutes to the Baron before disappearing back into the shadows, knowing what he has to do.

Taking your hand in his, Zemo squeezes it three times in hope of a response, but you remain limp in his arms. "Come on, Y/n," He whispers, bringing your hand to his lips and presses his lips against your palm. "I can't lose you too."

*

When Zemo emerges from the building, the world is a different place. A man's body lies beneath the feet of Captain America, blood staining the shield and you lay in Zemo's arms.

"Y/n?" Bucky hits Sams arm forcefully, averting his eyes from the scene in the middle of the square to a dishevelled looking baron cradling your body close to his chest.

"What happened?" Sam demands, now walking alongside Zemo who remains lost in his thoughts, thinking back to all that time you spent visiting him in prison, trying to provide some level of sanity to keep him occupied for the short while you had alone.

"He did." Zemo spits the words, his eyes remaining glued to your face, dried blood coating the left side that is hidden in the fur of his coat, tainting the pure white. "I'm going to kill him once my Y/n is awake." He mutters under his breath, not caring if either men hear his comment.

Once they reach Zemo's apartment, the silence between the trio is deafening.

Zemo takes you straight toward his bedroom, knowing you'd prefer privacy rather than being under the watchful eyes of your other friends.

"Oh, little dove," Pulling the silk sheets over your body, Zemo lowers the glass of scotch onto the bedside table alongside a damp towel to clean your blood.

As he presses the towel along your hairline, his free hand cups your face. He brushes his thumb across your cheek, humming a familiar tune.

"This is a nice way to wake up." You mumble, feeling Zemo tense momentarily whilst you keep your eyes closed. "Are the blinds open?"

"Hold on." Zemo moves away from you, taking the warmth with him causing a shiver to ripple through you.

Hiding you from the daylight and the cold reality of the world, darkness coats the walls. "Thanks." You comment, trying to sit upright only to wince and have your arm bat lightly by Zemo's hand.

"Don't move." Zemo instructs, perching on the edge of the bed, his coat thrown across the chair in the corner of the room, hiding the bloodied fur from your view. "You really are stupid sometimes, schatz."

"You really want to have this conversation, now?" Quick to retort, you glare up at your friend, having not forgotten what you witnessed in that warehouse. "It's all gone, isn't it?"

Zemo's prolonged silence answers your question, and he listens to you hum in response.

"Du bist ein idiot, Helmut." You state in German, not missing the tug on the corner of his lips. "But you're my idiot, nonetheless."

Stretching your arm out, you take a hold of his hand, squeezing it three times. "I thought I'd lost you for a moment in there, Y/n." Zemo painfully admits, knowing you were slipping in and out of consciousness.

"I know," You rub your thumb across his knuckles, his hands were always so soft against yours. "but I promise you, Helmut, I'll never go down without a fight."

"I don't want you to fight, Y/n." Zemo sighs heavily. "I just want you to be safe."

Scoffing lightly, you force yourself upright despite Zemo shifting closer. "You can't control that, Helmut." You remind him, having visited him once or twice with some minor injuries from smaller missions with Sam. "Nothing about us is certain, I mean," Trailing off, you can feel the mere thought of the conversation is causing your head to thump.

"Come," Zemo rises to his feet and walks around the bed. "get some rest. We can talk in the morning."

As Zemo approaches the door, you interrupt him. "Helmut, please, don't go." You whimper, faintly seeing him turn back to face you. "I don't want to be alone if I don't have to."

Smiling sadly to himself, Zemo removes his shoes and slides beneath the covers. Within a matter of seconds, he holds you close in his arms, your head resting against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"I'm not going anywhere, Y/n." Zemo whispers, kissing the top of your head as your eyes close, tears dampening his shirt. "Not when I just got you back."

"You sure about that?" You dare to ask, glancing up to see the faint outline of a sad smile crossing his lips as those dark eyes remain on yours.

"When it comes to you, I'm certain." He mutters, feeling you shift in his arms.

Your breath fans his lips before you softly kiss him. Zemo reacts instantly, his hand moving to cradle your neck as he kisses you back, desperate to not let you go.

Eventually, you both part. "Helmut," You breathe out, only for him to kiss you chastely. "I,"

"Don't say it, Y/n." Zemo hushes, knowing if he heard those three words leave your lips he'll never forgive himself if anything happened to you or him. "Save them for me, okay?"

Nodding in response, you mould back into Zemo, his fingers gliding across your shoulder creating various patterns including love hearts without realising it.

Yet, as you begin to drift off, you hear those three words from him, hoping that one day you can say them in return.

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[scarlettsrioting]

POSTING FROM MY MAIN BLOG SCARLETTRIOT

THIS IS NOT STOLEN WORK | PLEASE DO NOT REPORT

Arrangements

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo x f!Reader

Warnings: SMUT. Minors DNI. TW: Cheating, Loveless Relationship, Verbal Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Toxic Parents

Contains: Arrangement relationships, Dom/Sub dynamics, nicknames/pet names (Princess, Sir, Dummy -but in a loving way-), Oral (F Receiving), Begging, Rough-ish Sex, Some Spanks, Instructed Masturbation, Bakugo gets possessive…

Summary: Bakugo finds out your parents set you up in a quirk arrangement with Monoma of all people. Not long after, you and Bakugo enter a bit of an arrangement too, of the more fun variety. Things start up in your final year at UA but graduation doesn’t put an end to things for you two.

WC: 4,837

A/N: This is basically smut with some plot to it. A vague sort of idea that I’m considering making into something more but I also could just let it end here. It’s been in my head for quite some time and I needed it out lol. Characters start off at 18 and are 23 by the end of this piece.

The idea of dating and relationships never appealed to Katsuki Bakugo. Even in high school, he considered it all to be a distraction, something that took focus away from his main goal in life of being the number one hero. It was never that he couldn’t date, it was simply he didn’t want to.

And then there was you. Because you were different. Because he couldn’t actually have you.

In the exact same classes for three years, sitting just a row away from him, you seemed like just another ordinary student, that’s what he thought at least. You had a strong quirk that you had very good control over and were good with course work too. It wasn’t until third year that his impression changed.

You’d become friends with Kirishima, close friends, to the point whispers started about the two of you being a thing. But, Bakugo was never one for rumors, he paid them no mind. What did piss him off was what he heard after class one fall afternoon.

“You’re not better than me, never forget that, Y/N.” It was Monoma, “Don’t bother getting close with anyone in that damn class, not that rock for brains idiot especially. It’ll be bad for our image.” Bakugo stayed hidden but he heard the shuffling of fabric and you gasp. “You’re mine, remember that.”

Another shuffle before a single set of footsteps casually went off down the hall.

He shouldn’t have care, he didn’t really know why he did. But, you’re mine, what did that even mean? Were you dating him? You acted like you despised Monoma just as much of the rest of the class did…

Then Bakugo heard it, just a single sob. Only one. He’d never heard you cry before, hadn’t seen it either and you’d been through a lot, your entire class had.

He rounded the corner without thinking about it and you hadn’t even noticed him. Head hung low, your shirt had come untucked from your skirt and the collar was rumbled.

It might have been a slow process but, Bakugo had grown a bit in the last three years. Enough that he offered you a hand, “Come on.” You looked up at him with startled eyes, “Don’t think you wanna have a break down in the hallway. So come on.”

You took up your bag and grabbed his hand, letting him lead you into an empty classroom. “The fuck was that about?”

“N-no one at school knows… ‘Sept Kiri does.”

Bakugo was a little surprised the redhead was able to keep a secret like this, especially from him. “That you’re dating that pretentious jack ass?”

“’S not that exactly.”

“Then what is it exactly?”

Your hands strangled the strap of your bag, unable to make eye contact with him. The fuck was goin’ on? You were usually so confident, lighthearted, this wasn’t anything like you.

He grabbed your hands. “Talk, Y/N. If he’s forcin’ you into something I’ll blow his ass to pieces-”

“No, you’ve got it sorta wrong. It’s not Monoma. It-it’s our families. We’re in a quirk arrangement. We’re supposed to be married, you know, all that stuff…”

“What are you, a damn princess?” A quirk marriage? Those were still a thing? How fucking archaic. Todoroki was the product of one but he didn’t actually think people still used them.

“Very funny. Monoma, he just, he wants our image to be spotless. Completely perfect. And that means nothing can be assumed about either one of us being with anyone prior to our own time. We aren’t expected to marry until we’re 25, thankfully.” You let out a bit of a chuckle. “If he found out I was in here alone with you though, ha, he’d have a fit! Our families probably would too.”

“So, you’re not supposed to be involved with anyone? Either of you?” He had to clarify and sure enough, you nodded your head. “Tsk, he probably shouldn’t have been makin out with fuckin’ horns then.”

You choked. “A-Ashido?”

“Wha? Fuck no! And not shitty hair either! I mean the one in class B!”

He watched to color slowly drain from your face. “How do you know?”

“Saw 'em myself. Probably shouldn’t try to fuck in the locker room if he wants to not be caught.”

Damn. You looked like you were about to pass out. Maybe he should have told you when you had a chair to fall into. But, as quickly as it had come, it passed. You were, holy shit, you were hugging him!

“Thank you! Bakugo, you have no idea how great this is! Thank you! I might be able to get out of this now!”

There was no time for him to even react before you were pulling away and running out the door.

> > > < < <

The noose around your neck, the same one that had been there since were ten years old, tightened ever more on the train ride back from your parents.

You begged them to listen. Begged them to take Monoma’s actions more seriously but they didn’t care. It wasn’t you that messed up. It wasn’t their daughter out sleeping around. You had to be loyal. You had to be perfect.

And you were so done with being perfect.

But you couldn’t leave the arrangement either. They made it clear that if you did, they’d just simply promise your little sister off to Monoma’s brother instead and there was no way in hell you were pushing this on your sweet baby sister.

>>><<<

It was after ten when you got back to the dorms. You knew he’d been in his room, maybe even asleep, but you didn’t care. You were livid. And there was exactly one person you knew who could match your level of anger.

“Train with me.” You insisted when Bakugo opened his door. He was in sweats and a tank top but he didn’t look drowsy.

“No.”

“Bakugo.”

“Y/N.”

You folded your arms over your chest. Not in the mood. “Fine, fuckin whatever. I’ll go get Kiri then…”

You already started walked to the neighboring room but Bakugo leaned on his door frame. “Shitty hair’s gonna make you talk about it.”

“You’re probably right.”

“You don’t look like you wanna talk.”

“I don’t want to talk. I wanna kick someone’s ass!”

Bakugo stepped out of his room. “And you thought to ask me? You think you can kick my ass?”

“I’ve done it before.”

It wasn’t easy by any means to best Bakugo, but you weren’t looking for an easy fight. You didn’t want someone to coddle you or try to make you feel better right now. If you did, you would have gone straight for Kirishima.

He stood in front of you now, hands on his hips, looking down with piercing red eyes. “Fine. Training yard. Ten minutes. No quirks though. Beat me without yours.”

Now that was going to be challenging but you accepted.

You hadn’t wasted any time going out to the yard. Slipping by the rest of your classmates to avoid any questions. Bakugo was right on time, hands in his pockets look about as disinterested as he usually did.

“I’m only doin’ this on one condition.”

“And what’s that?”

“If I pin you three times, you gotta tell me what happened when you ran off.”

“What if I pin you three times? Then what?”

“Whatever you want.”

Whatever you wanted? That was a lot of power but then you realized, he didn’t think there was any way you would win.

“Fine. I wanna kiss you. No, no no. I wanna make out with you, yeah.” You’d get even with Monoma. And with someone, he hated no less.

Bakugo shrugged as if it was no big deal, but it was obvious the slight widening of his pupils, you’d caught him off guard.

“Fine by me, Princess. Three pins for a win. No quirks.”

“Deal.”

You each took your stance, and you weren’t waiting any longer. Temper boiled over and you charged at him but all he did was dodge out of the way. Dodge and then grab you by the back of the shirt before you could spin around. With a strong thrust, he had your back slammed into the ground.

Before you could even think about scrambling away, he had both your wrists pinned above your head and shins over both ankles.

“Fighting angry doesn’t work for you, Princess. Gotta use that damn brain of yours.”

You writhed and tried to thrust your hips into a bridge but his grip was too good. As soon as the eight-count was up, he returned to his starting spot without another word.

Letting him come for you was the easiest way to get Bakugo on the floor. Out-smarting him was another way to throw him off his game. You shook off the rage from your parents. Exhaled slowly, and dropped back into your stance.

This time, he came for you. Throwing two quick punches in succession and then a third landed against your rips. You recovered quickly by ducking slow and working his torso, aiming for the points you remembered Kirishima hitting him during training in class earlier that day. They had to still be sore.

It might have been a cheap way to play but it was effective. You landed three hits and a kick before he grabbed your ankle in mid-air, sneering for just a second and then flipping you back on the ground. But, you wouldn’t be taken so easily this time.

Bakugo’s shirt had ridden up and you could see the purplish bruise along his right side. Before he could trap your legs, you wound them around his middle, squeezing tightly, “Fuck.” He bit out but didn’t relent.

Tight your snared your legs and tighter he gripped your wrists. You were hurting him, you had to be but you wouldn’t give in. You had payback to win and you were going to use Bakugo to get it. He gave out, tipping forward and you jerked your wrists hard using his sweat-slicked hands to your advantage and slipping free.

A knee to his lower back, you pulled his arm behind him and started the count while he chuckled. “That’s more like it.”

You worked his injuries to earn you another point. Tougher a second time since he picked on your weak leg where Sero had grabbed you earlier making you fall.

The fourth match went to him. Bakugo no longer playing around, he went right for the kill as if to remind you how easily you were to best. He sprinted forward and went for your thighs. Lifting you in the air and then taking you down to the ground in one swift motion. Counting down while you struggled, sweat dripping off his nose and mingling with your own.

You were two for two. The next match would decide it.

One more time, you stood apart from each other. You weren’t ready to talk about it. You weren’t ready to explain how your parents practically gave Monoma permission to do what and who he pleased while you had to be loyal and faithful for the rest of your damn life. No. You just wanted to win. And have Bakugo kiss you until you forgot about everything.

That was why you ran for him, sliding low at the last second between sturdy legs and kicked with everything you had. He went down to his knees and you tried tackling him forward but he reached behind him, finding a good hold, and hauled you over his shoulder.

The world spun and then slammed to a halt leaving you looking up at a sweaty, smirking Bakugo.

Cocky bastard.

You flipped your legs up hooking him in your hold and finally twisting until he was back down. “Got you now.” You had him between your thighs while his hands helplessly pulled against you for the remaining countdown.

Your legs relaxed and Bakugo gasped, resting his head against the fat of your thigh while you both caught your breath.

“You fuckin’ won.”

“Damn right I did. Where’s my prize, blasty pants?”

For a moment, you wondered if he was gonna back out. Scoff and walk off. You wouldn’t have really blamed him because it wasn’t like you were gonna force him into something he didn’t want… you knew exactly what that was like and you wouldn’t have wished that upon anyone.

He rolled off you, sat by your side. “That’s really what you want?”

You nodded. “Don'tcha wanna ask someone else?”

“Nope. I’m askin’ you.”

“ButIhaven'tkissedanyonebefore.”

“Excuse me? I think you might have sneezed.”

Bakugo shoved your shoulder before repeating, “I’ve never kissed anyone. I’m sure I’d be good at it! Don’t worry about that! But, if you wanted someone, you know, who knows…”

You broke out laughing. “I’ve only kissed Monoma. My expectations aren’t exactly sky-high.” Your fingers brushed against his in the dirt. Both of you looked a wreck but that didn’t stop Bakugo from pressing his lips against yours with entirely too much force making your teeth clash when he landed on top of you.

“It’s not a competition, Bakugo.”

“Yeah, it is.” He grumbled with his lips still on yours. “I gotta be better than him.”

“Then you gotta relax.” You placed a kiss on his cheek, and then his jaw, and a soft one against his lips, “See? Already better.”

He was a fast learner. Actually listened to what you liked and applied it quickly. Bakugo grew bolder as the minutes passed, fingers warm on your skin when he ventured under your shirt and kisses wandering down your neck. He also learned he like you kissing the junction of his neck, the way you sucked at the skin there.

There were breathy little gasps he could get you to make and you sounded so soft for him.

You could have stayed there all night, the comfortable weight of him on top of you but any later and Iida was gonna send a search party.

You left the training yard with him, parted ways to shower, and then go off to your rooms as if nothing had happened. But, Bakugo laid atop his sheets unable to stop his mind from reeling. He pulled up your contact info on his phone and opened a new message.

You: If you need someone to take out your frustrations on, don’t bother askin’ shitty hair.

A response came in minutes later,

Y/N: I’ll come to you first.

And you did. For the next five years…

> > > < < <

Sneaking around was half the fun. Wigs, pretty dresses, and fancy suits. Hotel rooms booked under different names, in different cities. You and Bakugo grew together, we’re closer than you and Monoma had ever been!

You’d fallen in love with a man you could never have but you didn’t care.

Every time Monoma was caught with a new woman or tried belittling you, you remembered Bakugo. And tonight was no different.

You normally tried to plan meetups away from personal residences, it was easier that way but tonight had been especially bad.

You see, a man had asked for your number after you saved his daughter. He explained buying you a coffee was the very least he could do to show his gratitude. And you stupidly accepted his offer.

“That’s why you became a hero, isn’t it? Flirt and get guys to notice you because you need all that attention, don’t you? You’re never going to get it. Not from them. Not anyone. Not ever. Hell, I’m not even going to give it to you.” His face inched closer, “Unless you beg me for it. Bet you wouldn’t be so annoying if you were on your damn knees for me.”

You closed your eyes while he spat his venom, let him rant until his words ran out and he left you outside the agency you worked for. Izuku asked if you were alright when you walked back in the office and you painted on your happy face, assuring him everything was fine before going to change into civilian clothes.

But, you didn’t go home. You drove straight to Bakugo’s place, his penthouse that he absolutely loved that overlooked the shining city lights.

You: I’m outside. I need you.

Blasty: You know the code.

He never gave you crap about coming over no matter how risky it was. He’d given you the code for the employee’s entrance to his building and the service elevator. And, just like always, he was waiting for you the very moment you stepped off.

You sprung on him, leaving him to stumble backward with you in his arms until his back hit the wall. Fingers running up his front until you found the little silver zipper of his hoodie and pulled it down, reveling in the warmth of his skin, littered with scars of battles pasted underneath.

“Damn, Princess, what’d he do this time?”

He brushed your hair back meaning to kiss your neck but instead saw the wet streaks along your cheeks. “Seriously, Y/N, what’d he do?”

There was no use hiding it from him, Bakugo wouldn’t let this go any further until you told him at least a hint of the truth. “Told me I’d never get attention from anyone, not unless I begged.”

It’d become almost too easy to tell him the truth of things. He never pried but would talk if that’s what you wanted. Usually, though, he was good at taking Monoma’s shitty words and turning them into something so much better.

Rough thumbs cleared away your angry tears. “We’ll see about that.” He spun so you were pinned between his body and the wall. Bakugo’s hand ghosted over your leg, dipping under your skirt to find the thin panties you wore.

“’M gonna make you wanna beg for me,” A hard yank, and they were gone, Bakugo on his knees before you right in the entryway nudging your legs further and further apart to accommodate him, pressing wet kisses against soft flesh. “Beg for me to start,” He shoved up your skirt and vanished under it, “Beg for more,” Warm breath fanned out over you making your legs squeeze around his head, “Beg me until you just can’t take it anymore.”

“P-please.” The pitiful plea fell from your lips. Because if it was Bakugo, you’d gladly beg. He put on a tough exterior, had many layers to break through, but he’d never leave you anything less than completely satisfied.

He nipped at your thigh, “Do better.”

“Katsuki, please. I need it so bad. I need you. I wanna feel you, please, can I have you?”

“Good girl.” You felt his words reverberate against your core just before his tongue rolled against your clit.

Five years gave the two of you a lot of time to get good at many things together, learning what the other likes, coming a long way from late-night, sloppy makeout sessions in the training yard.

Bakugo could have you coming undone in a matter of minutes now or he could drag it out of you for hours. And, judging by the slow, methodical licks he was giving you, this wasn’t going to be a quick evening.

You whining when he resumed kissing your inner thighs, leaving you breathless and wanting so much more from him. “But why, Katsukiii, why’d you stop?”

“You stopped begging. Show me how needy you are and maybe I’ll keep going.”

There was no maybe about it. He didn’t have all the power here. You grabbed the back of his head, a fist full of that light blonde hair, kept shorter now than in high school and pulled him from under your skirt so he’d look up at you. The right words were all Bakugo needed to lose control.

“Please, sir, I need you to make me cum. I need you to make me forget his name. I don’t wanna remember it. Please, please, sir, fuck me until I can’t remember Monoma, only you.”

Slowly he stood until he was looking over you with a wicked snarl. “What’s my fuckin’ rule, Princess?”

You had to fight back a smile. One word. Just one name and he was all fired up. “I- I’m really sorry!”

You weren’t, not at all.

“No one fuckin’ says his name in my house. Damn, I really am gonna have to fuck you senseless, aren’t I? Bed. Now.”

Bakugo landed a smack right on your ass as you made a b-line right for his bedroom.

And, just as it did every single time you made your way into his private room, you gravitated to the floor to ceiling glass windows. Once you’d seen it, there was no doubt in your mind why Bakugo loved this place as much as he did. It took your breath away every single time.

You’d dreamed about him screwing you against the glass or sucking him off on the balcony beyond it but the risk of being caught had always been too great, even this high up.

“I said bed.” His voice was low in your ear while he took your jacket off your shoulders. “Better listen.”

He pulled your blouse up and over your head, removed your bra all before tugging his own pants down just enough to free his half-hardened cock.

Gods, you knew how it felt inside you, every vein and that upward tilt he had, it had you clenching at the very thought. “You want my cock? You know what to do.”

He wanted a show and you’d give him one. One hand running down your body while the other stopped to tease your pebbled nipple. He sat in one of the highback chairs meant for TV watching after he spun it around. Legs stretched out while he gave himself slow, languid strokes.

Red eyes roamed your body. The way your fingers teased little circles before slipping one inside, a soft sigh going straight to his cock. Picking up the place, he watched the way you pinched and pulled at your nipples. You had every ounce of his attention.

“Remember his name?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Add another finger then.”

You did as you were told.

“Curl 'em up inside you. You can push them deeper than that.”

Moans fell from your lips more freely, spurring him on further.

“That’s it, princess. Still remember?”

“Yes, sir, I think I need your help, sir.”

“I am helping. Add another. And don’t stop messing with that pretty clit either.”

Your third finger slid inside, pumping them in and out while your wetness gathered between your thighs. Your hips were rocking, abandoning your tits so your other hand could rub on your clit.

Higher you climbed, “Faster now,” you couldn’t even keep your eyes open to watch Bakugo stroke his fully erect cock anymore but damn did you wanna feel it.

“Please, sir, I need you!”

“'Course you do,” The chair creaked and then you felt quirk-warmed hands on your legs, “Move. Both hands on your tits, now.” Two of his own fingers filled you up just as much as three of yours had felt. Just longer, able to push in deeper, making your back arch up off the bed, head going fuzzy when his tongue found you again.

Harder you squeezed your chest, hips wiggling, desperate to reach your release. “Remember?” He grunted from between your legs.

A strangled, mhm, was all you could manage being so close. Crying when he added another thick digit with the others but it was exactly what you needed.

Wet fingers slid out just as you started to shake, both his hands slammed your thighs down on the bed, spread wide, while his tongue took you through your orgasm.

“And now?”

“Wha?"You mumbled still coming back down.

"Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Before you had a chance to fully calm down, Bakugo yanked you to the edge of the bed. Spinning you onto your stomach with ass perked up in the air. Smacking it just a little before taking his tip and running it against your still dripping folds.

You pushed back wanting more but he pulled himself away, “Ah-ah, what’s his stupid fuckin name?”

“Um, Mon-”

Bakugo entered you with a single hard thrust, pulling out completely while you gasped. “But-But you asked!”

“Because I need to know-” Another thrust, “Just how hard-” Another, “I gotta go!”

His grip on your hips was bruising, bring your ass back, smacking against him each and every time until it was his name you were moaning. “Yeah, hah, that’s it, princess. My fuckin’ name. Not his.”

He bent over top of you, hand against the back of your neck pinning you down. Bakugo picked up the pace, balls slapping against you with a steady rhythm.

“K-Kat Katsuki! Fuck, more, more, please. Yes, sir, please!”

He twitched inside and you kept begging. Anything to get more of him. His grip on your neck tightened and pulled you up, back against him while he fucked deeper. You were facing the windows, your reflection in the glass with tits bouncing and Bakugo’s arm wrapped around your middle. His face buried in your neck.

“Want them to see you, don'tcha?” He knew exactly what you wanted, you’d talked about it enough, “Yeah, mmm, squeeze me tighter, naughty fuckin’ woman!” You cam again at the thought of the cool glass on your tits, how it’d contrast with the very heat of him. “Fuck!”

He shoved you back down, relentless now, “Fucking hell, Kats, yes!” Tiny explosions released against your shoulders just seconds before he shot ropes inside of you.

Bakugo carefully laid you flat on your stomach, hips trusting lazily as he worked every last drop into you. He kissed between your shoulder blades and then each red mark he left on your shoulders. One at the center of your back, another just above your tailbone, and finally a playful smack of your ass before he pulled out.

“Remember?” He muttered, kissing below your ear.

“Nu-uh.” Of course you did but Monoma was now in some very distant part of your mind. Completely overtaken by Bakugo.

“Good.” He flipped you over and scooped you up into his arms, not giving a single damn about your combined releases currently leaking out of you and onto him.

He held you in his arms, while the bath water filled. Waiting for it to be warm enough to set you inside. When he finally did, you gave him a questioning look, why wasn’t he joining you like he usually did and instead just using a washcloth.

“Dinner.” He stated plainly.

“I haven’t eaten yet.”

“Yeah, I know. I heard your fuckin’ stomach growling when I was eating you out.” He tossed the soiled rag into the hamper.

“Well, that’s embarrassing.”

Bakugo placed a kiss on the crown of your head, “No, it’s just you, you dummy. Now, sit here, fill it up with some bubbles or whatever and I’ll come get ya when it’s ready.”

“Yes, sir!” You gave a mock salute but he cocked a slender blonde brow.

“Call me that again and dinner’s gonna fuckin’ wait.”

You smiled, seriously considering it, but you did need food and Bakugo was the best cook you knew. “Maybe for dessert.”

“Dummy…” He left with a laugh.

> > > < < <

Bakugo had started food and changed the bedsheets while he heard you humming quietly to yourself in the bathroom. Ignoring the tug in his chest, reminding him how much he actually liked having you in his space no matter how much he tried denying it.

He returned to the food now sizzling in its pan when his phone rang.

“What’s up, Shitty Hair?”

“Is Y/N with you! Been trying to call her but she’s not answering me!”

Kirishima was the only person who knew yours and Bakugo’s relationship was more than friends.

“Yeah. She’s in the bath, why?”

“Put on the fuckin’ news, now!”

“Fuckin’ hell. What’s so damn important! I’m tryin’ to make some damn dinner…” He complained while he found the remote and flipped to one of the news stations.

“Just do it! And get Y/N too!”

He turned up the volume so he could hear what the reporter with yellow eyes was saying, “… It is official, legislation has just passed a law that quirk arrangements going forward that do not have both parties explicit consent will be void! Both parties must still be a minimum age of 25 to marry but now both must have verbal and written consent. If parents or guardians are found to be forcing their children into these relationships, forging documentation, and or tampering with the arrangement in any way, the penalty will be a minimum of 15 years jail time and…”

Bakugo dropped his phone with Kirishima still on the line.

You were free. They had nothing over you anymore. The one person he wanted that he was sure he could never fully have was free.

He sprinted for the bathroom calling your name.

[imposterogers]

i’m not even in the stevebucky fandom and i don’t have any strong feelings about them whatsoever and i still fully believe that steve/bucky could have been the best love story in the entire mcu. like honestly just the content that we have for them already is more romantic than pretty much all the canon mcu couples. it makes complete logical sense for them to be together??? and people say this about mlm/wlw ships all the time but it really is so true for them that like... if one of them was a woman they would undoubtedly be together in canon... sorry i know you know all of this but scrolling through your blog is really getting me annoyed that stevebucky didn’t happen....... like....................

the thing that gets me about stevebucky is that their relationship was literally framed in a romantic context. like, I legitimately think it’s impossible for the writers to not notice what they were doing. i’m not trying to minimize the importance of platonic male love in the media we consume, but it doesn’t change the fact that the characters were placed into traditionally romantic tropes, and made borderline flirtatious comments to each other. 

I mean, let’s start from the beginning 

-steve (the damsel) is being beaten up in a back alley behind a movie theater, where bucky (the dashing knight)  knew exactly where he was because they were supposed to meet to watch a film together 

-they then go on a “double” date, where bucky pays more attention to steve’s reactions than the girl’s. when steve slips away and tries to enlist, he follows, and says “They’ll catch you. Or worse, they’ll actually take you.” he wants his “sweetheart” safe on the homefront while he’s away at war

-when steve hears about the 107th being captured, their roles immediately switch. steve becomes the “knight” bucky becomes the “damsel”. steve risks his role as captain america and his life just at a chance bucky might be alive. when steve is trapped in the burning hydra base, bucky yells “no! not without you!”. it is made explicitly clear that they both would rather die than leave the other behind

-at a bar, over drinks, bucky says to steve “you’re keeping the outfit, right?” which is a direct implication that he thinks steve looks good in it 

-when peggy enters the bar, bucky is visibly jealous. while, because its two men, the audience is left to assume steve has the affection of the hot chick, if we look beyond that, bucky could also be seen as being jealous/hurt that other people are beginning to see steve as a romantic interest and Incredible Human Being, when for years, bucky had steve all to himself 

-when bucky falls from the train, steve goes back to that same bar where he asked bucky to join him (stay in war for him, not go back home without him). peggy says to allow steve to allow bucky the dignity of his choice (to stand by steve, to die by steve) and that’s when steve decides to avenge his death. he says, “I’m goin’ after Schmidt. I’m not gonna stop till all of Hydra is dead or captured.” he very literally becomes the first avenger (hence the title of the movie) for bucky. 

let’s fast forward a bit 

-ITS BEEN A LONG LONG TIME (still not over that)

-when the winter soldier’s mask fell off, steve stopped in his tracks and allowed himself to be captured by hydra because of the shock (even when I had nothing, I had bucky), and bucky broke through 70 years of brainwashing from the sound of steve’s voice (the man on the bridge, I knew him). true love conquers all babyyyy

-til the end of the line = til death do us part

-sam tells steve that the winter soldier might not be the type that you save, but the type that you stop, but it is very clear that steve is not capable of making the choice to stop him 

-on the helicarrier, steve lets himself be beaten bloody by bucky. bucky chooses a “stranger” over everything he’s been programmed to know, then proceeds to keep a journal with a big picture of steve in it 

-civil war happens (I hate civil war so i’m not getting into it) but essentially its reiterated that over everyone and everything, steve and bucky choose each other 

-in infinity war, when everyone was dusting away, bucky calls out steve’s name so that steve would turn and look at him, allowing him one more glimpse at his “love” before he died 

i’m just not sure how anyone could provide this kind of content (including the fact that they lived together, went to art classes together, etc) and be surprised people shipped it. the issue with stevebucky, is it goes beyond a simple “shippers being shippers” sort of situation. they’re written with so much undying love, so much devotion and jealousy and intrinsic detail, its actually a shame they weren’t a canon couple, because even without it being canon, they’re the best written and strongest written romantic couple marvel has (to date) put onto the big screen 

[tehrevving]

so I was goin through your posts (for mostly innocent reasons, prommy!) and i saw one where you said that running a blog was hard after the purge, and... do you think we just got used to the now, or that tumblr culture did change and it was too subtle for me to notice..?

Aside from the obvious ‘lmao there’s nothing innocent at all about my blog’, this is actually a super interesting topic Anon. If you have been on Tumblr for that long then I’m honestly surprised that you haven’t really noticed any changes. I know I’m a nsfw creator, but still I find that crazy lol. 

Tumblr is super different now than how it was before the purge. The easiest way to explain it I guess is that everyone was on Tumblr. Nsfw and sfw artists, writers, screenshot takers, basically  all of the fandom creators were on Tumblr. Nowadays most nsfw artists are on twitter, but because Twitter is terrible for writers, there’s not really one main place for fandom anymore. Most people moved to Twitter so they could look at art, and use Tumblr much less than before, so any writers or other creators that stayed here don’t get nearly as much traction as they used to. I’m sure you’ve seen all the posts complaining about no one liking or reblogging posts, it wasn’t perfect before the purge, but it was certainly much better.

The FFXV fandom in particular completely died after the purge. So much good art was deleted and so many people were so pissed off that they abandoned ship completely, some not even moving over to Twitter or anything, all of that stuff was just gone. Fandoms that have sprung up after the purge (like DMC as an example), or fandoms that the filter doesn’t affect as much (There’s still a bunch of Mass Effect alien smut for example)  have managed to do decent-ish, but really haven’t had the sort of traction that they would have done before. 

It’s unfortunate because the Tumblr purge should have been the catalyst for someone to try and make a new social media site, like when the Ao3 sprung up after all the fanfic site purges, but unfortunately this hasn’t happened. There’s no one place for fandom anymore. 

Writers are so lucky that we have the Ao3, so at least we can confidently know that all of our work is safe. Artists don’t really have that though. If Tumblr can go ahead and just delete all of your art, then there’s no reason that Twitter, or DA or any other site won’t just go ahead and do it too. There were a lot of people that figured it wasn’t worth their time to repost stuff on another platform, or spend the time building up a following again, and I don’t blame them for it.  

Tumblr has somehow managed to build itself back up a little bit after the purge, and that surprises me a lot, but I don’t think it will ever get back to how it was before. Additionally, with Tumblr also banning all of those ‘nsfw’ tags on iOS (which sure you can blame Apple, but there are ways that Tumblr can fit within those rules without having to be so drastic.) The site has really shown all of us nsfw creators that we’re not welcome here anymore, but for now there’s nothing better so here I am lol.

[saltymiraculer]

Ceremonial Kisses (Part 1 of 3)

Part 2

So I decided to try my hand at the “Marinette, the princess of China” trope and see how I did! Tell me what you think?

Also, the first chapter is going to be fluffy, the second chapter’ll have a sprinkling of salt, and the third chapter will be a mix of piles and piles of salt and some fluff. Be warned!

.

“I’ve got a big, big, big announcement for you today, class!“ Bustier chirped, clapping her hands to get their attention. “China’s princess will be coronated in a week and a half, the day she turns 18, as many of you know, and one class from the school will be selected to travel to China and watch the ceremony. Guess which class it was?“

“Uhhh…Mme. Mendeleiev’s!“

“Ooh, M. D’Argencourt’s? They’ve wanted that trip for weeks!“

“No, class, it’s ours! In three days, we’ll board the plane to Asia and have a few days to sightsee and explore, then attend the coronation on the second-to-last day!“

“Wow! Why our class?“ Kim asked.

Marinette knew exactly why. Marc had told her that the entire school was sick of Lila’s lies and wanted to enjoy the coronation without her butting in in the middle of the assembly to tell a ‘story’ about herself.

But she couldn’t just say that.

“You know, I actually know the princess,“ Lila said, immediately drawing the attention of everyone in the room. “But her identity is being kept a secret for now. That’s how we landed the trip!“

“Wow, Lila!“

“That’s amazing!“

“So cool of you.“

“They know that’s stupid, right?“ Alya stage-whispered, earning a glare from Lila’s new puppy–more commonly known as Kim. She shrugged. “I’m just tellin’ the truth!“

Alya, who was now her only other supporter next to Nino (and technically Adrien, but she’d discuss that later–it was very complicated), had decided to Google Lila’s name during a sleepover and found…some rather incriminating Facebook posts.

After that, she was 100% team Marinette and an amazing friend, along with Nino, who had decided that he needed a theme song. No one knew why.

But they loved him anyways!

So while Bustier was rattling off facts about Chinese emperors and kings and queens, Nino was showing them his latest idea to expose Lila.

“Okay,“ he started. “First, we go to China. Then we do our sightseeing and shit, and then. I did some research, and we can ask the princess questions if we’re with a national news channel. Alya’s blog counts. For real, we can talk to the princess of China. And we ask her if she knows Lila.“

“Brilliant plan, Nino. I wonder how the princess will react to a few teenagers in the middle of a crowd of famous people.“

Nino frowned. “The princess is only, like, 17. She’ll probably notice us, Als.”

“Oh, that reminds me, your birthday’s on the same day as the coronation, Marinette! Weird, isn’t it? That you and the princess have the same birthday?“ Alya asked, pulling out her phone and swiping through something.

“Huh, yeah. You’re right. Maybe we can invite her to my birthday party?“

“Ooh, the wiki page says she likes custard buns, and I’m not sure how they know that,“ Nino chuckled. “but make sure to stock up on those.“

“Noted,“ Marinette said drily as Bustier turned to them with a condemning look on her face. “Alya! I hope what you’re doing on that phone relates to the lesson!“

“China’s princess’s identity is being kept a secret because the last two were sent death threats, dangerous items, highly innapropriate items, and several other things that prompted them to not reveal the princess until it was necessary.“

“C-correct, Alya. Good job.“

“Nice!“ Marinette mouthed, high-fiving Alya, who flipped her phone around to reveal a website about the princess.

                                                           -🌸-

The final bell rang as several of the students cheered. One school day until the trip over, three more to go. Alya swung her bag over her shoulder and bumped Marinette’s elbow. “We goin’ to your place to hang out?”

“Yeah, my dad’s out anyways and mom closed the bakery for the afternoon. let’s go!“ Alya took Nino’s hand and walked the short distance to Marinette’s house. They entered and immediately felt something off.

Ah, there it was.

Sabine was leaning over the counter with a cup of very strong-smelling peppermint tea beside her. She was rubbing her temples and muttering to herself in rapid Mandarin.

“Maman? Are you alright?“ Marinette asked worriedly. Alya and Nino stood by the door–they had only seen her like this once before, when her cousin had been run over and killed.

“Yes, dear, everything’s okay, it’s just–there’s something I need to tell you.“

“Oh, no, did something happen to someone?“

“No, no, everyone’s just fine. I can’t not tell you without there being serious problems.“

“So what is it? What’s so important you had to close the bakery?“

“You’re the princess. China’s princess. The one nobody knows about.“

“I’m what?!“ Marinette screeched, grabbing at her hair. “I’m the heir to the throne of the most populated country in the world, and you waited until a week before the coronation to tell me?!“

“Holy shit.“ Alya and Nino said simultaneously. Sabine stared at them, likely just realizing they were there.

“Oh. They know now, too. Perfect, that’s just what we need, a reporter knowing who–“

“Maman! Alya wouldn’t tell a soul, I know she wouldn’t.“

Sabine turned to Alya. “I’m sorry, dear, I’m just stressed. With that trip to China in a few days and all that, we’ll have to close down the bakery for about a week.”

“And we never close down the bakery.“ Marinette finished, putting a steady hand on her mom’s shoulder. “But I know just the person to run it while we’re gone.“

As she was about to say who exactly would run the bakery, Nino backed into the door, wide-eyed.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. My best friend…holy shit.“

“Nino, I know this is a lot, but we’ll have to stay calm,“ Alya said, grabbing his hand. “So we don’t spill her secret. That’s top priority, all right? Don’t–tell–anyone.“

Nino sighed. “Sorry, babe. This…“ he turned to Marinette. “Do you have any cookies?“

Marinette grinned and led them into the kitchen. “Of course! Chocolate chunk or raspberry frosted?“

“Raspberry, all the way!“

“There’s the Nino I know!“

After a quick cookie interval, Marinette pushed her plate away and sighed. “Anyone up for an impromptu sleepover? You all left a bunch of your clothes here the last few times.”

“Marinette. If you know us, you will know our answers.“ Alya said solemnly.

“Hell yeah. Wanna go choose which terrible rom-com to watch this time?“

They ended up settling on The Kissing Booth, one of Marinette’s personal favorites (”To lighten the tension, you know?” Alya had said. “Although the tension in here probably weighs the same as an obese hippopotamus at this point.”) and made a bowl of caramel popcorn, with a tiny bag of sea-salt Skinny Pop for Nino.

“Sugar on popcorn is a crime, man. I ain’t touching that.“

“You’ve tried it once, Nino.“

“Yes, and I hated it. Is there anything else to be said?“

So they spent the next two hours in a blanket fort that was made almost entirely of throw pillows laughing over Elle and Noah and Lee being idiots, with a few highlights such as the iconic “Ninth grade skirt, eleventh grade body” scene, where Alya snorted and said “You know, Lila’s skipped so much school, might as well be ninth grade brain, eleventh grade work.”

“Too true,“ Nino agreed. “The other day, she called Chloe’s mom Aurora Bourgeois. That was a pretty major mess-up.”

“Shhh! Let’s just watch the movie!“ Marinette said, effectively quieting them down.

They watched the rest in silence with the usual laughs., ending up falling asleep halfway through the second movie, snuggled up on their respective couches. Marinette mother shook them awake the next morning, telling them to take showers and eat breakfast and get dressed and for god’s sake, Marinette, finish your homework.

“Crap, crap, crapcrapcrap! Nino, we’re going to be late if we don’t get ready fast!“ Alya shouted as Marinette ran up the stairs to change. “Can I use your shower, M?“

“Sure!“ was the muffled reply.

After about 10 minutes of running around and shoving waffles in their mouths, they grabbed their bags and ran off to school.

They burst through the door in the nick of time, the bell ringing just as they plunked down their things.

Bustier wasn’t there five minutes into the class, so they started talking.

“Marinette, you have to listen to Nino’s latest track, it’s–“ Just as she was about to describe Nino’s latest track, a bouncy-ball the size of a walrus snashed through the wall, nearly taking off Kim’s head.

There was a cackle from outside. “I am Gradack! You will all feel the same sorrow that I did!“

                                                          -🌸-

The fight was over relatively fast, and everything was calmed down and restored before their next class. Turns out Chat Noir didn’t show, so Marinette had to ask Alya for assistance.

In hindsight, she probably should have picked a better place to transform.

“Tikki, spots on!“ After she transformed, she was about to go to Fu to get one of the Miraculous, when she heard a strangled gasp.

“…shit.“

“My best friend is the princess of goddamn China and Ladybug? What the fuck?! Who are you? How did I not know? When did–“

“Alya, I know the feeling, but you can’t tell anyone. Got it?“

“Nino?“

“Well,“ Marinette paused to think. “Yeah, I guess. I trust him enough. Now, take this and transform!“ she tossed Alya the hexagonal box, and after a quick transformation, they ran off to defeat the saddened graduate of an akuma.

As she said, it was an easy fight.

They comforted the victim with four minutes (each) to spare, then ran back to the locker rooms to transform back.

                                                   Time Skip!

It was the morning of the flight to China, and she was ecstatic. Of course, she had to get up at 3:45 in the morning, but it was worth it–the flight took off at six in the morning, of course.

She could see the logic of wanting to arrive at 12:00, but she would’ve much preferred a red-eye.

Then she wouldn’t have had to stay up all night reading, because no way in hell would she just wake up at 3:45 in the morning.

The alarm would’ve had to go off for hours.

But back to the morning, she poured herself a sasquatch-sized mug of coffee, with about a gallon of cream and enough sugar to put an entire city of diabetics into shock, she started getting dressed.

Trudging around and haphazardly pulling out shirts, she finally decided on a simple red-and-orange flannel, a white t-shirt, and a pair of cropped jeans.

The she downed the rest of her coffee with an apathetic “Bottoms up!�� and slapped her cheeks.

She grapped her suitcase and walked outside to where her mother was typing away on a laptop in the pitch-black night.

“Mom, why are you up?“

“Because I have to drive you to the airport, that’s why. And no alarm would be able to wake me up at 3 in the morning.“

“Preach. I’m ready to go, so can we get in the car now?“

After driving to the airport and saying goodbye to her mom, she walked into the airport and immediately saw the group of sleepy teens (and a certain disheveled teacher) leaning on their suitcases, trying not to fall asleep.

Nino and Marinette were already there, their eyelids drooping. The only person who looked properly awake was Sabrina, who was–inevitably–holding a saucer out to Chloé, who was sipping from a teacup.

Alya rolled her eyes and walked over to Marinette and Nino. “Who’re we missing?”

“Kim and Rose. They’re carpooling, so they should be here any minute.“

Just as Marinette had said, a few seconds later, Rose and Kim walked into the airport. Kim was still wearing pajama pants.

                                           Another Time Skip!

“Marinette.“ Alya groaned, shaking Marinette’s shoulders. “Marinette, wake up, we’re here.“

Marinette’s eyes fluttered open. “No. Five more minutes.”

“Everyone else is already off the plane!“

“Shit. Let’s go!“ Marinette said, jumping up, grabbing her purse (which she had recently learned concealed a kwami) and scrambling out the door.

Alya picked up the mini-backpack she now carried (which held Trixx, cookies, and some grape jelly) and followed her out the door.

Almost as soon as they stepped off the plane, they heard a loud wail.

“Great. She’s back on her bullshit.“

“I just can’t believe she would steal that, Lila! It’s so unlike her!“

“M-maybe, but there’s p-proof! Look!“

“Oh, great, what did we do this time?“ Alya asked exasperatedly. They watched as Lila held out the remains of–from what they could see from a meter away–a sketch of an orange mermaid gown with a black lace collar, ripped into quarters and laid out on the ground.

Marinette gasped beside her.

“That’s your dress, isn’t it?“

A small tear made its way down Marinette’s face. “It was going to be for you,” she said softly.

Alya threw her arms around Marinette and rubbed her shoulders. “It’s okay, sweetie. Once you’re princess, we’ll sue her for all she’s worth.”

Marinette detached herself from Alya and wiped her eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, thanks, Alya.”

                                                         -🌸-

Nino stormed up to where Alya and Marinette were standing with a furious expression on his face.

“That fox,“ he seethed. “that bitchy little fox of a liar stole your drawing.“

Marinette chuckled wetly. “Yeah, we know.“

“Are you okay? I know how important they are to you.“

“I’m fine, Nino, and o–who the hell are you?“ A man in an oddly formal suit was standing next to her, holding out a small red envelope.

Marinette plucked the envelope from his fingers, opened it, and read the contents. She looked up and nodded at the suit-wearing guy.

“Good. In that case, Miss Dupain-Cheng, I’m going to need you to come with me.“ Alya and Nino immediately stepped in front of her in a protective shield.

“She’s not in trouble, is she?“

The strange man looked surprisingly amused. “Not at all–but you might want to come with us, too. You as well, headphone-boy.”

Nino put a hand on his chest and gasped in offense.

“Nino. He’s going to drive us to the palace. You’re coming, too, ya doof!“ Nino made a noise of realization and followed them out to where a black limousine was waiting.

They climbed in and drove off.

About five minutes into the drive, he moved his foot to the side, accidentally kicking a black box.

Just as he was preparing his final goodbyes, it sprung open, and inside was a junk food lover’s heaven.

“Dude.“

[insomniamamma]

“Surf City Goodness”: Ezra x F!reader w/Cee

A/n: This is the same AU as “Ferris Wheels Are for Old People” and “Liminal” but you don’t have to read those to read this one. Ezra loses his arm in an automobile accident which kills his brother, Damon and orphans his niece, Cee. Reader lives across the street from Ezra and they’ve been friendly for sometime but now it’s something more. Set after  “Ferris Wheels Are For Old People” This is for @autumnleaves1991-blog​ and @clydesducktape​ ‘s Writer Wednesday.

Warnings: Language. Mentions of sex. Mentions of drug abuse.  Mentions of traumatic injury/surgical scars. Mentions of Reader’s ex.  Cee needs her own warning, but mostly this is just fluff. Ez and Cee and Reader enjoy a trip to the beach. I will include some songs from Cee’s playlist at the end.

          Iggy Pop's voice warbles out of the speakers. "I wanna go to the beach, I don't care if it's decadent, I don't know where my spirit went, but that's alright..."          "This seems a bit bleak, Birdie," says Ezra.          "Quit your griping, you'll get your surf city goodness soon enough," says Cee and grins. Part of the deal they've worked out is that Cee gets to pick the music for any road trip longer than two hours, otherwise it's NPR until the signal fades and then whatever classic rock they can pick up. The three of you are crammed in the cab of Ezra's battered Ford Ranger. Cee is the smallest so she sits in the middle. The truck's bed is full of gear, air mattresses and sleeping bags and towels, a cooler filled with food and another filled with beer. I don't know what conditions we'll find exactly, Ez told you, We haven't been back here in some time.          "If there's spiders I'm sleeping in the truck," you said and Ezra smiled, and pressed his remaining hand over his heart.          "Never fear, Sunshine, I will protect your from our arachnid friends."

         "Hey Sunshine!" Ezra calls from his front porch. You look up from your laptop to see Ezra and Cee laden with grocery bags.          "Hey, Ez, you need a hand?" He smirks. This is an old joke between the two of you. When Ezra first came home, with Cee and without his arm, they were unloading Cee and Damon's things, bags and boxes and you, without thought had asked if he needed a hand, it just came out and you'd clapped your hands to your mouth, and then spluttered, I'm so sorry I didn't mean--and Ezra laughed, of course I need a hand. I'm down to just the one.          "Always," he says. You loop the plastic bags over your arms, sweating packages laden with ground beef and bratwursts and chicken thighs.          "You all having a party?"          "We're going to the beach," says Cee. "You should come with us. It'll be fun."            "Jesus, Cee," he mutters and then collects himself and smiles, "I had meant to ask you before this one jumped the gun-"          "It's fine. Really."          "You still working remotely?" asks Ezra.          "For now. There's some talk about keeping my department remote."          "Good thing or bad thing?"          "Good thing," you say, "I like working in my pajamas."          "Good thing because you could come with us," says Ezra.          "Ez--"          "I'm dead serious," he says, "Cee's got a four day weekend. We've got decent internet. Damon saw to that before...well, before. Mind you, this will probably be something of a working vacation. Ma's house has stood empty sometime. Damon used to keep it up but..." Ezra trails off. It's a small town. Damon's drug problems were more or less public knowledge. You think of the files you still need to edit, but for once you're ahead of the game. None of that is due until midway through next week. You've got some wiggle room if things go south.          "Yeah? Yeah, fuck it. I'm coming with." Ezra smiles wide, revealing his dimples. And that's how you end up in the cab of Ezra's beat-to-shit truck listening to Cee's fun and somewhat baffling playlist.

         "Talk to me, baby,I'm goin' blind from this sweet, sweet craving, whoa-oh, Let's lose our minds and go fucking crazy, I-I-I-I-I keep on hopin' we'll eat cake by the ocean..."          "Is this a parody?" Asks Ezra, "Like a Weird Al Yankovic thing?"          "No," says Cee, "It's an actual song. One of the Jonas brothers did it."          "Someone greenlit and recorded this on purpose."          "Yep."          "A song. About eating cake on a beach." Cee gives you a sly look.          "It's a metaphor, Ez," she says, "They're eating something but it's not cake." You have to hold in a laugh, watching the gears in Ezra's brain grind, watching his eyes go big.          "Ohmygod! Cee!" Cee cackles and you snort laughter. "You are fifteen years old! You are a minor child! You should not be going there! You should not even know that there exists!" Ezra's cheeks go red. Cee is wheezing, eyes screwed shut with laughter, her own cheeks flaming, "You. Should see. Your face," she says.          "It's not funny!"          "Oh, it's funny," you say, "She got you good."          "Come on, Ez," says Cee, "You think I can't recognize a poorly veiled sexual reference when I hear one? It doesn't take a genius--"          "You are a terror," says Ezra, and Cee grins, proud of the title, "And you--" he arcs and eyebrow in your direction--"Are not helping matters." You give him your brightest smile.          "What can I say? I thought it was just a song about some goofballs eating cake by the ocean." He huffs, but you can see the smirk creeping up his cheek as he drives.

         The house at the end of the driveway is small, a cottage really, single storied and built up on stilts like the others around it, painted a faded robin's egg blue with white trim. The garage is underneath the house, room enough for one car and next to it is a room built to shelter the water heater and plumbing. A wooden staircase snakes up to a deck that wraps the entire structure. Sea grass sprouts in clumps from the sand. It's hot inside, a stale heat, and the first thing you do is open all the windows.          "I think there's a couple box fans in the storage space," says Ezra, "I'll go fetch them."          The back deck overlooks the ocean, pale expanse of sand and the gentle lap of blue-green sea, a wooden staircase reaches down to the sand below. The day is bright and hot and shot through with high cirrus clouds. You and Ezra have stripped the sheets from the beds and popped them in the washer, loaded the dishwasher, put fans in the windows.          "This is cleaner than I expected," says Ezra, "Maybe Damon cared more than I gave him credit for." Ezra's face clouds. You take his hand, squeeze his fingers in yours. You know little about Damon other than the town gossip and what Ezra himself has told you. You don't understand the convolutions of their relationship, you just know that Damon is a slow-healing wound, and that it does Ezra no good to pick at it. You tug at him.          "C'mon. Let's get changed. Cee's already got her suit on."

         "Turn around, Birdie, let me get your back." Cee rolls her eyes but does as she's asked. Ezra sprays sunscreen across her bony shoulders and rubs it in.          "I found a boogie board under the deck," says Cee, "And some toys from when I was real small. I found those floaty things you all used to put on my arms, remember those?"          "I do," says Ezra, "Damon chucked you into the surf without so much as a by-your-leave. It scared the hell out of Ma but you laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. You're good to go, Little Bird."          "Thanks, Ez." And she's down the stairs, heading towards the surf.          "Your turn, Sunshine," he says and you turn your back to him. He presses a kiss against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, that one place that makes you squirm and shiver, right on the line between erogenous and ticklish.          "Menace--" you say and then squawk when the cold spray hits you, soothed by the passage of his calloused palm across your shoulders, gently gripping the nape of your neck, and you lean back against him briefly, relishing his solidity, his warmth, his hand rests lightly on your hip.          "Let me get your back," you say. Ezra turns his back to you and shucks out of his t-shirt. He's already ditched his prosthetic arm. Don't know how seaworthy it is, he'd said, as expensive as it was I don't care to find out. You shake the can of sunscreen and blast him with it.          "Christ! That's cold!"          "We gotta make sure Cee reapplies after a couple hours," you say, smoothing your hands over his broad back, relishing the slide of his tanned skin beneath your palms, "She'll burn to a crisp otherwise." You press your fingers into the tight muscles of his neck and he makes a contented sound like a purr in his chest.          "You're always so tense right here," you say and dig your fingers in, feeling the thrumming muscles loosen somewhat under your touch. Ezra leans back into you as you did to him moments ago, your arms snake around his shoulders, tuck your face against the side of his neck. This thing with you and Ezra is soft and languid and you're not sure how to define it. This is not the fevered, clawed territory of young lovers, the sort of push and pull you had with your ex, the idea that love had to keep proving itself somehow. With Ezra there is nothing to prove. He seems content to ride this gentle wave, to let things play out in their own time.          "Turn around," you murmur against his skin, "Not done with you yet."          "Now, I am perfectly capable of applying--" he starts, but you see his eyes drop, and know it for what it is. You've known Ezra for a while. The two of you were always friendly, since you moved in across the street from him. Ezra before was even more exuberant, had a swagger about him, confidence in his own skin that is only just now trying starting to return. Ezra before would preen under your gaze if he caught you looking at him while he repainted his deck or put down mulch in his garden, Ezra now shrinks from your eyes. You can see the self-doubt seep in. The worry about his scars, that the loss of his arm makes him less, somehow.          "I know," you say, "Maybe I just want an excuse to get handsy." He arcs an eyebrow at you, that brief flash of doubt replaced with his more familiar smug smirk.          "Well, have at it, by all means," he says. You spray him with the sunscreen and start rubbing it in, smoothing over his freckled shoulders, down his upper arms, mindful of the tender skin at the end of his stump, the dips of his clavicles, his broad chest, littered in angry pink scars that shout in contrast to the rest of his skin. Punched indentations along his ribs where they'd stuck in tubes to drain the air and blood out of his collapsed lungs. You work your way down along his soft belly and back up his sides, a hissed intake of breathe and you stop.          "Does that hurt?"          "Nah. Tickles."          "Mmm-hmmm. I'll have to remember that so I can use it to my advantage later."          "Oh and I'm the menace," he says, his arm curls low around your hip, pulling you nearly flush with him, and you complete the motion, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him tight against you, your chin notched over his shoulder. Cee is creeping up the stairs with a battered plastic bucket in her hands. She shoots you a grin and you know exactly what she has in mind. You back up a little, cup Ezra's stubbled cheeks in your hands and kiss the tip of his nose.          "Surprise," you say and take a big step back. There's just time enough for that little furrow to start between his brows and then Cee dowses him, a whole bucket of seawater poured directly over his head. He splutters. His eyes go big and round. Cee is doubled over laughing.          "Oh," he says, blinking salt water out of his eyes, "Oh that's it. Today's the day, Cee! I am going to drown you!"          "Gotta catch me first, old man!" says Cee and pelts down the beach. You run after them, their bright laughter peals through the warm summer air. Ezra grabs Cee and dunks her into an oncoming wave. She emerges splashing great fans into Ezra's face.          "It is only proper that I took my vengeance," says Ezra, holding his hands out to deflect the spray.          "I don't think the Geneva conventions apply here, you douche-canoe," says Cee.          "Oi! That language--" This is your opening. You grab Ezra around his waist and push off backward into the oncoming wave, pulling him down with you. The two of you come back up, coughing and laughing, arms slung around each other. There's no shadow in Ezra's eyes now, you press your lips to his, the waves roll over you, the tide dragging at your bodies while you and him remain still. Press of your lips to his, your tongue licks out and tastes salt on his lips and he opens for you, his hand cupping the back of your head, guiding you against him, his tongue stroking against yours, no battle for dominance, this, just the plush heat of his mouth, the heave of your chests when you finally break apart, waist deep in the ocean.          "I--" says Ezra and Cee's splash hits at face level.          "Gotcha!" she crows, and starts running.          "You miserable little rat!" He hollers, chasing her through the surf. You stand hip deep in the water and laugh. You're not sure what you and Ezra are to each other. Lovers? Friends? Family? Whatever it this is, it feels right and good. It feels like being home.

A/n: Here is a sampling of Cee’s beach trip playlist:

“I Want To Go To The Beach” by Iggy Pop

“Telstar” by The Tornados

“Cake By The Ocean” by DNCE

“Rockaway Beach” by The Ramones

“Misirlou” by Dick Dale and his Del-Tones

[auro-ora]

Friend or Foe

Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 2,144

Summary: what happens when two enemies are stuck in quarantine together?

Warnings: enemies to friends, language, angst, quarantine problems, arguments. 

Notes: @jobean12-blog​ here we are babes, thank you for wanting to read this and sorry if this sucks. :c I haven’t written in over 3 years <3

There was no doubt about it that Bucky Barnes, your roommate, your enemy, your rival, your whatever else you wanted to label him as, was officially driving you to the point of insanity. It didn’t help that you were quarantined with the man in question since the beginning of March, three months. Three months of being locked in your spacious two-bedroom Brooklyn apartment with him. Neither of you were free to leave, neither of you were allowed to go to work, the compound was out of the question, your family lived in a different state, you had no choice but to stay here under this roof with him.

Some days, you believed he was doing most of his antics on purpose, such as leaving his dirty dishes in the sink for you to clean, leaving his dirty laundry on the floor in your shared bathroom, cooking his own food and leaving you to make your own food, playing his music too loudly, only one of you were allowed to go grocery shopping and he often went, forgetting to pick you things up even if you did ask him nicely. It was your worst nightmare and it couldn’t have happened at a worse time when the weather was starting to get warm, the heat causing more arguments between the two of you, which often ended with him screaming at you.

It wasn’t funny anymore, at first you would probably admit you loved to piss him off on purpose, but as the months passed, it was becoming upsetting. You wondered what you did at the beginning to make him dislike you so much, he was talkative when you first moved in, a steady foundation for a friendship but then it went downhill after day 5. Bucky wasn’t a man you could talk to, he wouldn’t listen and he would often ignore you and pretend you didn’t exist, and it was much easier for him to do that when he brought other girls home for the night. But you? Bucky made the rule when you first moved in that no other men were allowed in this apartment, which at the time you agreed to because it was his apartment and you were grateful to have found a room in Brooklyn.

You overheard him say to a friend just the other week how he wished some girl named Natasha was living here, which made you upset and since then, you have tried to avoid him as best as you could. You would use the shower when he was in his room listening to music, you would cook when he was in the shower and then you would sneak back to your room. It was like two strangers sharing a space, and you were sure roommates weren't supposed to act this way. You did try to find another apartment, but unknown to you at the time Bucky was the one sabotaging everything by contacting the person advertising the apartment and falsely warning them of your partying habits, which resulted in your viewings being canceled at the last minute. They never told you the reason why, you assumed they had found someone better suited, financially. Was Bucky proud of his actions? No, he wasn’t, but he didn’t want you to leave, he didn’t want to go through the hell of replacing you with someone else who he might really hate next time.

Today would be a good day, you were almost sure of it. The light from the sun created pretty patterns on your wall, you pulled yourself up from your bed and walked out into the living room, scoffing by the sight of your roommate sprawled across the couch with his arms spread out on the back of it. You mumbled a good morning, he ignored you as usual. You rolled your eyes and walked into the bathroom, making sure to slam the door a little harder than necessary.

“Stop slamming the fuckin’ doors!” he yelled from his spot. You could feel the anger building up inside of you. The frustration from having a complicated roommate and no means of fixing the already broken relationship. You peeled your pajamas off your body and turned the water on the shower to a comfortable temperature, pulling your hair tie off, your hair falling loosely over your shoulders. You step into the shower and sigh, making the most of your time here because this is the only time you get peace and quiet from Bucky. You lather up your loofah with your favorite shower gel and wash every inch of your body, at least twice. Then working on removing your body hair and finally, shampoo and a deep condition. Meanwhile on the couch, Bucky was scowling towards the bathroom door, the steam started to appear from under the door. He knew you were taking your sweet fucking time on purpose to avoid him, but 40 minutes to wash yourself? No, he was not having that. He stood quickly and walked to the bathroom door, surprised to find it unlocked. He saw your form behind the shower curtain, and swiftly yanked it to one side where you screeched, using your hands to cover your private parts.

“BUCKY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?” you yelled at him, but the jerk just stood there, his eyes trailing and you wanted to smack the smug grin off his stupid face. 

“Thought you drowned in ‘ere or something. What’s taking you so fuckin’ long to wash your damn body?” 

“GET! OUT!” you threw the soapy loofah at him which he easily batted away. 

“Hurry the fuck up!” Bucky spat.

Fearing Bucky would return sooner than later, you hurriedly washed the conditioner out of your hair and stepped out of the shower, wrapping the white fluffy towel securely around your body and stepping out into the living room once again. This time your pain-in-the-ass roommate was busy making himself breakfast. Your room was warm from the heat of the sun and you sat on the edge of your bed, staring longingly into the mirror opposite you. The towel pooled around your waist, you sighed and walked to your closet for some clothes, putting them on quickly just in case Bucky decided to walk in once again. You towel dried your hair, putting it up into a messy bun. You went back to the kitchen, this time to prepare some breakfast for yourself, only to find Bucky had left you no eggs or bacon and the bread was gone.

“You ate all the eggs?” you rubbed your temples, this couldn’t be happening. It was supposed to be a good day and it was already going to shit.

“I did.” came his nonchalant reply. “There’s no milk either.”

“Okay.” you sighed knowing he wasn’t going to be helpful. “Can I borrow a face mask and some latex gloves please?” you rubbed your temples with your fingertips and watched as your roommate leaned back against the counter and folded his arms across his wide broad chest. 

“No.” he deadpanned, his tone and eyes were stone cold.

“I said please!” now your eyes were filling up with tears, and you were completely helpless, unable to go out to buy your food with protection, because if you went out without a mask and gloves, you risk catching the virus. 

Bucky steps in front of you, his large frame towering over you forcing you to crane your neck upwards. His breath fanning across your face as he spoke.

“Make me a list of items you need and I’ll go and get it.”

“Why? Each time I’ve asked in the past, you’ve always refused!” you shouted a little louder than you intended.

“Y/n, come on. Don’t be an asshole and make this difficult. Just write the fuckin’ list so I can go!”

“Not when you speak to me like that. Get out of my way, I’ll go my damn self!” you attempted to shove him but he didn’t even budge.

“You’re not goin’ out there, it’s too dangerous.” 

“I don’t know why you even care!” you yelled. Weeks of built-up anger and frustration all coming out.

“Because I care about you!” Bucky yelled back. And then there was silence, neither of you spoke a word, just staring and blinking at each other. He cared about you? Since when? Since when does ignoring someone, yelling at them and picking arguments count as caring about someone? 

“No you don’t.” a single tear rolled down your cheek, you nibbled on your lip, mulling over his words in your mind like a loop.

“I do, y/n. I was just scared… when you first moved in, I didn’t even think you’d like me as a friend, then I saw the way you looked at me like you were trying to figure me out and I panicked. I’m sorry.”

“All I wanted was to be your friend Bucky. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“I know and I’m so sorry for everything I ever did and said to you, I’m an idiot and it wasn’t my intention to drag it out for as long as I did.”

“You really hurt me. All those times you screamed at me and made me feel like I was the problem, that you hated having me here and you made me feel like if I suddenly died, you’d throw a party!” you attempted to shove him again, but he stepped closer instead grabbing your wrist and pulling you into his chest.

“Don’t you EVER say that. I’d be lost without you honestly, because you’re so argumentative and you amuse me.” his heart thumped against your ear and you didn’t actually understand what was happening. One second you thought you two hated each other which turned out not to be true, you learned Bucky did care about you. You pulled back after a while, wiping your wet cheeks with your palms and a wet chuckle came out.

“I never wanted you to see me cry.” you admitted through some deep breaths.

“You’re still pretty. I really hope we can start again from the beginning, though I don’t expect you to forgive me right away.” he smiled sheepishly.

“It’ll take some time, you have been an asshole.”

“Alright, don’t sugarcoat it.” he teased

“No but seriously, we both have been pretty stupid, so yeah. During this quarantine, let’s work on a friendship.”

Later that day, Bucky kept his word and did your grocery shopping, picking up everything that was on your list and more. He bought some snacks and chips in hopes you’ll agree to watch a movie with him later, which you did. The pizza was taken out of the oven and the chilled beers were on the coffee table waiting to be cherished. You contemplated on lighting some candles, but didn’t want to give Bucky the wrong impression since you weren’t interested in a relationship (at this time). You went with the other options and switched the lights off entirely, the only light was from the TV screen. Bucky chose a movie, an action he had found on Netflix and the two of you settled into the couch. The pizza was eaten, the beers were gone and you were halfway through the movie when a loud knock sounded on the front door. 

“Oh, I’ll get it.” Bucky said squeezing your thigh as he stood up. You paused the movie and placed your hands under your thighs. You heard a harsh laugh boom through the apartment and you cringed. 

“Nat! What are you doing here?” Bucky joined in on the laughing as he invited her in. You narrowed your eyes, remembering no visitors were allowed in people’s households so why was she here?

“I came to see you. Couldn’t wait to see my man any longer!” she laughed and pulled him into a hug, looking over his shoulder towards you and smirking.

“Uhm, Bucky? The movie…?” you interrupted them. Bucky offered you an apologetic look as he took Natasha’s hand in his and led her to his bedroom door. 

“Sorry doll. Maybe another time.” your heart sunk, you knew this was too good to be true. The slam of his bedroom door caused you to tense up, as you sat on the couch in the dark listening to their giggles behind the door and then the loud music started.

“Thanks for nothing.” You mumbled to yourself, turning the TV off and sheepishly walking into your bedroom, allowing the tears to fall down your cheeks. You sank to the floor, raising your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around your legs. You wished this time you were good enough for Bucky, but clearly his priorities were the wrong way around.

Maybe this time you’ll be lucky enough to be approved to rent a different apartment. Now you were more sure that you didn’t want to be here, you didn’t want to be near Bucky any longer.