#don’t care if this joke has been run to the ground I thought it was funny

[lady-ashfade]

Mha Men Reactions To You Thinking That Asking You Out Is A Joke.

—£ X Gn Reader

—£ Plot: Reader has been bullied and thinks that this is just another prank, they have been asked out before as a joke.

—£ Characters: Katsuki Bakugo, Izuku Midoriya, Eijiro Kirishima, Tamaki Amajiki

—£ Warning: Angst To Comfort, Reader Being Insecure, Reader being bullied, Reader Making The Boys Feel Bad, Crying, Bad Language, Fighting, Happy Ending.

Izuku

-He was so confused at first, then in disbelief and angry.

Izuku had worked himself up for mouths to finally ask you out. He’s been hinting at how he feels for you but you never seem to notice. All he could do each day was think about you, how he wanted to hold you in his arms and kiss you. He wanted to show you the world and all it could be.

So, he waited till you both got off of patrol and chased after you.

Hearing your name you turn around to see the green haired man running after you like a crazy man, flying so fast with a red tint on his face. Then to stop and huff in front of you, he laughed nervously.

“Deku? You okay…” you question and tilt your head. He couldn’t get enough of how cute you looked.

“Hmm, just want to tell you something.” He smiled and said it like a known fact. You wait for him to say something while you stand still, just waiting….Until he was just staring at you in silence.

You wave your hands in front of his face and he turned the shade of a tomato for a minute while jumping out of his skin. You were confused, he was acting strange? He hasn’t been this nervous in a while.

“Okay- Well” he takes a deep breath and then pours his heart out in a shout, “I like you- A lot. I have since you first showed me your quirk and flashed that smile. So, I want to ask you out on a date?”

Izuku came up with many scenarios of what could happen when he confessed. Like you laughing at him, rejecting him easily or harshly, even if you hit him! He planned for everything…

Expect to see you glare harshly at him, one that sent a chill down his spin. Your body tensed and your hands gripped on your bag.

“Real fuckin’ funny, deku. What? Did Bakugo set you up to this?” You spit at him. “Never thought you’d be the person to do this, is this for a prank show?” Your chest lets out a deep and angry chuckle.

He stared at you with his face drained and eyes staring wide. Was this his imagination? What are you even talking about. Did he say something wrong, he’s never seen you like this before. Cold and mean.

“Nothing to say?” You click your tongue and huff. “This isn’t a funny joke! It’s-” he watches you tear up and push a finger in his chest, “It’s cruel.”

“What the hell are you taking about?” He has no idea how much your words affect him. His chest was filling up with anger and his brows frown.

“Don’t act like you actually like me! You aren’t the first person to ask me out on a date as a prank! Or hell, even a bet!” You cross your arms and flare your nostrils.

Oh..

His eyes soften and swallow at your now trembling figure, looking so small now and shaking. Like he was a villain to make you feel worthless.

“You think I’m joking?” His hushed tone made you blink away some of the tears and whip them off quickly, nodding your head you bite your lip.

“You can tell whoever that you got me! Get your points or win, I don’t care.” You fix yourself and looked at the ground. You move backwards and turn around to walk away from him.

Izuku watched for a few seconds until he knew he couldn’t have you thinking this was for anyone else but himself. Grabbing your arm he turned you around and into his chest, coming face to face with his.

He had his serious and frustrated face, when he gets passionate. “I want you, I need you in my life. I don’t know who before made you feel like you were just a joke, but they don’t deserve anything. I want a date, a real one with fancy clothes and food.”

Your wide eyes stare in his, looking surprised. Your bodies were so close and he held you so tightly, his body was warm. “Just you and me.” He’s eyes flashed panicked as he looked between your eyes.

He heard your breath hitch and how hesitant you were to trust him. He wanted to know the battle you fought inside your head inside and out, so he could defeat them for you.

“Promise?” That small sparkle of hope made him smile.

“Promise.”

Katsuki

- He’s pissed off, man has no clue what the hell you are talking about. And how you could think he’d do something so stupid?

We all know Katsuki never half asses anything, like anything. If he didn’t want you around you simply wouldn’t. So when Katsuki knew for sure he was ready to be in a relationship, he wasn’t going to let it be half asses. You were going to be his, he would give you everything.

So, he asked you plain out. Invite you out to a restaurant and to walk around your favorite part of the city. He enjoyed how talkative you got when you were happy, so this would be just right for you.

Then you flat out yelled and him.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Being so confused his loud voice rang through the empty park.

You roll your eyes, “You don’t think I know when a trick is played on me?” You ask with a pointed glare. “Look, you aren’t the first.”

Trick? You think he’s joke about this shit?

“Huh?! You think I’d take the time out of my day, but your ass food and do your favorite thing- Just to prank you?” He shouted.

“Don’t flip this on me! I know this is just a joke, ask out the “weird” person right? They must be so easy? Is that it? Want to seem so much better then everyone.”

Then he was completely enraged. He couldn’t help the blood pumping through his body as he gripped his fists.

“How fuckin’ dare you.” He stepped closer. “You think that low of me?” You matched his glare and stood your ground.

“I didn’t think you were the person to do it. But here you are.”

“Oh?” His tone growled out and tilted his head. His dark smirk sent chills down your spine. “And who are you to tell me what I feel like?”

You felt your self becoming sick and you tried not to let it get to you. But this wasn’t how you thought your relationship would go, him turning out like everyone else.

“I know that everyone always likes to pull this shit on me! Ask me out, not show or laugh in my face! Who set you up to this Huh?”

Clicking his tongue he turned away from you, “You’re so stupid.”

“No. I am just know when I am being tricked.” He looked back at you with a daring smile.

“Oh yeah?” He laughed and crosses his arms like this was so funny. Making you break.

“This isn’t a joke! And it’s not funny.” You stomp your foot and started to get so overwhelmed and tear up. How could he be so cruel? Why does everyone do this.

He yanked your hands and pushed you to the nearest bench, you protested and squirmed but he was stronger then you. “Sit still!” He demanded as his hands pressed down on your shoulders.

You sink down and just do as he says to make this situation go faster. “You listen, got it?” He stared at you seriously. You take a minute and nod your head, his sigh made you sink farther down.

“This wasn’t a joke. I first noticed how beautiful you were when you feel asleep on my shoulder after training. I like when your cheeks puff out when you eat, or that crinkle in your nose. I like how you look around if anyone notices when you fail in training. I like it when you call me “Suki” and how it makes me feel.” His cheeks heated up at admitting theses things but it was all true.

“I wouldn’t ask you out as a joke, and you thinking that is fucked up. I don’t deal with stupid people. Tell me,” he pulled out his phone and clicked around a few and then shoved the bright screen in your face. A picture of you asleep on his shoulder with drool on his shoulder and him looking so calm. “Would I let anyone do that? No, only you.”

You could feel your heart beat up and lungs losing air. Your head ran with thoughts as you looked at him. He was serious? And you just said all those horrible things to him.

“You mean- You actually like me?” Your voice and question made him laugh and shove his phone back in his pocket.

“Maybe I do hang out with stupid people.” Okay, you deserve that honestly.

You take a breath and cover your face. “Shit.” You groan and lean back without looking at him. How could you look at him again, maybe you just wouldn’t for the rest of your life.

“M’sorry.” The word muffled in your hands and he looked down at you. He loves how embarrassed you looked, hiding your face from him. But he didn’t want you to overthink anything.

His hands wrap around your wrist and pull them away from your face. You didn’t look at him at all still but he just leaned down closer, “Look at me.” His demand was soft and quiet, so unlike him. When he found your eyes again he felt himself at ease.

“I’ll bellow up those fuckers that pulled that shit on you. I don’t have time to play games. So, go on a date with me and have a good time.” There was that voice again. His loud voice to cover his emotions.

“If you’ll have me.” Your eyes looked so soft and sad. Like he would still rejected you.

“Be waiting for you. And i wouldn’t want anyone else.”

Kirishima

- Completely taken aback. He was frozen and confused, then sad and angry. His heart was broken.

Kirishima was a man, and a good man. He kicked himself for months because he wanted to ask you out but didn’t want to ruin anything. You were just so sweet and beautiful, his heart flattered when he saw you smile.

Of course he wanted to ask you out! So, he worked up himself like izuku and made sure to be on top of his game. He would style his hair, clean up after a long day and check himself out in the mirror. He had to look best for you, like a man!

He waited until you got done with your work and headed home to ask you for a date. He was waiting for you by the door with a huge but nervous smile. His chest was filling up with butterflies,

“Y/n! Over here.” He waves you down. You looked at him and smile as you march towards him. Your regular clothes looking amazing on you, he could tell the day was rough for you but you still looked as beautiful as aways.

“Hello, good work today kiri!” Your praise made him blush harder and scratch his neck. His ego growing. “Need to teach me some of your moves.”

Okay, he needs to cool himself down. You are just too cute and pretty, he finally had you alone and ready to ask you out.

“Actually, um.” He looked at you with a wide mouth before clearing his throat. “I was going to get some food, maybe I can tell you there?”

You thought about it for a minute. You have gotten food before with him so it’s not weird. So you nod. “Sure!”

“Actually, I had something else planned.” You watch him blink, he watches you tilt your head. “I wanted to ask out on a date. Right now, to any restaurant you want of course.”

Your body tenses and hand comes to clinch your chest, looking around for the hidden camera. His smile seemed real but you knew the truth, this was a cruel prank.

“Not funny kiri.” Your voice sounded different as you got angry. You turn your head and cross your arms, “Think this is funny? What kind of a friend are you!” You shout making him sink back.

He was now frozen with his face white and smile gone. He stared at you confused and unknowing what to say.

“I’m sorry..But, what are you talking about?” You only huff at his words and puff your cheeks and chest out.

“Don’t play dumb! I know what this is,” you turn around and look for someone, “He got me! Really funny.”

Kiri stepped closer and looked to where you looked, “Y/n, it’s just you and me here.”

“Oh, so you just wanted to see for yourself what i would do? Because asking me out is so fucking funny. Well,” you hit his chest. “It’s not!”

Your words and hands feel like knives. You have never seemed so loud and broken before or yelled at him before. He wanted to tear up with you.

“I don’t think it’s funny, what are you talking about?” His hands covered the yours that rested on his chest. “Did I say something wrong?”

You tear up fully and start to cry, “I know kiri, no use of hiding it. I know this is just some stupid prank to get me to feel bad about myself and you won! Just like all the others.” You try to pull away from him but his body moves on its own and keeps you from moving.

His blood starts to rise and his teeth start to show. You think this is a prank, that he was just doing this to make you cry? And what others? Oh, this was making him pissed.

“Who did it? I’ll talk to them, that’s so unmanly! Hurting someone like that?” He leans down to you, “Let alone you…that’s the most cruel thing I have heard.”

You blink up at him, your arms struggling to pull back come to a stop. “What do you mean? You did it to.” Your voice broke and didn’t sound as angry but disappointed.

“I would never. I’m not joking y/n, I want to take you out on a date. Even more now to show you that you can be loved, like I do! Please give me a chance, you are the only person I think about!” He backs away from you and bows his head to plead.

“Let me take you out on this one date and if you don’t like it, then I can deal with it! A man has to step up. I wanna go out with you so bad!”

You stare down at him in shock at his outburst as he begs you…no one has done that before. Kiri didn’t seem like the type of guy to ever joke about this..But why would he want you?

Sighing you look away, heat coming to your cheeks. He asked you out and you just made a scene. “You mean it?”

His head shot like a dog and nodded his head quickly, “It will be the best date you ever had! I’ll even buy you dessert.” He poked out his chest with pride and now a smile to convince you.

“Fine! But if you think-” your eyes wide and throat close up as he smashes his lips onto yours. You feel yourself growing weak and unable to move.

He pulls away quickly with a blush at his cheeks, “I am serious, did that prove something?”

“P-Point proven.” He smirks at his victory and takes you by the hand to show you a wonderful night.

Tamaki

-He’s so stressed and sad, he’s confused. This one might hurt.

Tamaki gets embarrassed so easily but when he is around you something just happens to him. He’s so fluster and can’t look at you but at the same time he’s calm and needs your company. Tamaki finds himself thinking about you and your smile, how soft you look to hold. But why would you want someone like him? Someone who hides and stutters all the time.

Until he was forced to ask you out by Mirio. If he didn’t tell you then mirio would have to tell you himself. And Tamaki almost fainted on the spot. How could he face you?

So he went to your office, stuttering already and panicked. When he knocked on your door he hoped you wouldn’t be there.

“Hello,” you greet the person with a smile that only brightens when you realize it was him, “Tamaki, come in.” You open the door for him and he walks In quickly.

Your office was just like you. He loved how you made this place just as your own, it made him feel safe.

“What’s up? Need another pair of hands on a mission?” You walk back to your desk and near your gear that you needed to take off. He cleared his throat.

“N-no, actually, I have something to say.” You turn to look at his tense frame. “Oh?” Then he turned his face around and took a deep breath.

“Mirio helped me with this. Close your eyes and say what’s one your heart. Um- Okay, okay.” He whispers to himself and tightens his fists. You arch a brow and watch him curiously.

He takes a deep breath then begins to stutter and trip over his words, “W-Wanna take you out- On a date.” His voice breaks loudly. “I hope I did it right..” I wishes to himself breathy and panting.

You stare at the back of his head and place your hands on your desk..Mirio must have set him up to this. Must have felt pity for you, or to do this as a joke.

“I can’t believe you both- I’m not a bet or a joke.” He jumps out of his skin at your shouting voice. His head runs quickly at what he must have said to make you yell at him.

“This isn’t- Oh no, not how I want this to go.” He closes his eyes and shakes a bit.

“Oh? Wanted me to say yes so you guys can laugh? Or, what? Get brownie points for asking me out? Out of pity!” There you go shouting again.

Tamaki has never heard you yell like this, unless it’s a villain…is he a villain? No, he can’t be. But his ears heat up and he sinks into his clothes.

“No…I just wanted to go out with you.” He spoke louder but still hesitant in himself. He stayed still for your next words but they never come.

Only a sniffle.

You lean down on your desk and sob while trying to stay quiet. You thought that Mirio and tamaki were your friends, and would never hurt you.

He turned his head around and something twisted in his stomach to make him feel sick. Seeing you with tears rolling down your face and sink into your own skin like him, made him feel horrible.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he walked toward. You grip on the desk and let out a soft chuckle, “That’s what happens when you pull a prank on someone.”

It clicked in his brain finally that you thought he wasn’t serious. Like he just treating you less and as a joke. It was harsh to think of him like that.

“Y/n..” he walks closer to you as you stiffen the closer he got, you sob harder.

“I get it, you can tell miriro you got me.”

“Y/n.” He said clear and without a stutter, his face and body now on the side of you. “I am in love with you.” Your breath hitched and he hears it.

“You make me wanna be brave. I can’t help but get flustered and shy around you because- Well because you’re so pretty and nice. But I want to take you out..” he leans closer as you look up at him. “I want..” he trails of and glances into your eyes with matching tears curl up in his eyes.

“I want you.”

You take a deep breath and stand up straight. You feel heat raise up in your body of embarrassment, “M’sorry.” You sob again and throw your arms around his shoulders and pull him closer.

And he’s back to being a melted mess as you hold him close. He blushes and softly wraps his arms around you and pats your back lightly. “D-Does this mean you’ll go on a date with me?”

You chuckle and pull away from him and whip off your own tears as his hands stay on your hips. “If you don’t hate me.” You nod and sniffle one more time. He smiles,

“I Could never hate you.”

#Tamaki Amajiki angst #Tamaki Amajiki comfort #Tamaki Amajiki x reader #Tamaki Amajiki #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugou angst #katsuki bakugou comfort #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo fluff #bakugo x reader #eijiro kirishima #eijiro kirishima x reader #eijiro kirishima angst #eijiro kirishima comfort #izuku midoriya x reader fluff #izuku midoriya fluff #izuku midoriya comfort #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #deku x reader #deku x reader fluff #mha comfort #mha headcanons #bnha x reader #bhna x reader #mha hcs #angst to comfort #kirishima x reader #comfort fic

[katakaluptastrophy]

Can we talk about Magnus in Harrow the Ninth? Because there's a tendency to paint him as this constantly cheerful figure and he's not - he's just very Fifth.

He's the only person who seems even slightly upset about the whole gun-toting horror thing:

“Did the Sleeper get them?”

“Only by assumption,” said Harrowhark, while Abigail’s dolt of a husband said, “I bloody hope so.”

“Magnus,” Abigail said, a touch disapprovingly.

“Well, if the Sleeper didn’t, that’s two maniacs with an ancient weapon and a love of blowing off faces, dear,” said Magnus.

And he's got a very low opinion of Silas:

"She won’t tell me what he said to her, just that he ‘was horrid.’”

“Cheeky little so-and-so,” said Magnus. “If he were my son, I’d give him something to think about. I’m not surprised he’s gone to ground.”

“I would hope your son might be of different character,” said his wife, half-smiling.

“Protesilaus should have biffed him.”

“It’s strange,” said Abigail, ignoring her husband’s exhortations to biffing.

Behind the jolly Jeeves and Wooster-esque talk of biffing people, let's remember that this is Magnus - who from Gideon's POV never saw a teenager he didn't want to adopt - earnestly wishing that a grown man had hit a 16 year old kid.

And when Harrow explains that she thinks she saw him jump to his death, Magnus isn't particularly sympathetic:

“We should have made him a greater priority,” said Lady Pent.

Magnus said, “I’m not certain.”

and

“We didn’t need him,” he said bracingly.

Abigail said, “We need everyone.”

“I never thought he was quite the thing.”

This "never quite the thing" line is the same one Abigail uses when she says Ianthe shouldn't have become a Lyctor and you get the sense it has a quite specific meaning on the Fifth. You get the distinct feeling Magnus is saying "good riddance" in response to a teenager's apparent suicide.

And then of course there's Magnus' conversation with Harrow as the River bubble collapses, as Harrow debates whether she should leave her body to Gideon:

She said: “If I go back, it will finally destroy her soul.”

It was Magnus who stepped forward and looked at Harrow face-to-face. And perhaps she felt that more keenly: that he was the man who had, in Gideon’s own words a lifetime ago, been nice to her cavalier. His mouth was hard now, but his eyes were as kind as they had ever been. And kindness was a knife.

He doesn't pull any punches in laying out his understanding of the situation to Harrow:

“This whole thing happened because you wouldn’t face up to Gideon dying,” he said, which was a stab as precise as any Nonius had managed. “I don’t blame you. But where would you be, right now, if you’d said: She is dead? You’re keeping her things like a lover keeping old notes, but with her death, the stuff that made her Gideon was destroyed. That’s how Lyctorhood works, isn’t it? She died. She can’t come back, even if you keep her stuffed away in a drawer you can’t look at. You’re not waiting for her resurrection; you’ve made yourself her mausoleum.”

His wife looked at Harrow’s face and murmured, “Magnus, you’ve made your point,” but he uncharacteristically ignored her.

He's trying to get through to her in a very fraught situation, but he's certainly not pulling his punches:

“You’re a smart girl, Harrowhark. You might turn some of that brain to the toughest lesson: that of grief.”

Abigail is also trying to talk her out of things, but she's much more discursive and apologetic. Magnus is kind, but it's kindness as a knife, not a cushion.

Magnus is so often written off as just a silly, goofy character, when he's more complicated than that. He's allowed to have a very real frustration with the River bubble and with Harrow, however much he does also care for her and want to help her.

And you know what, he's a CFO stuck in a horrorscape with his delighted ghost nerd wife and a bunch of soldiers. He runs with it - he cracks one of his House ordinal jokes while physically tackling a gun-toting ghost and makes a decent go at it before getting shot. But he's very much out of his comfort zone, angry, and no longer entirely held back by propriety.

#the locked tomb #tlt #magnus quinn #harrow the ninth #To digress into TUG spoiler territory... #A Lyctoral Abigail slowly blurring her calm and polite filter into Magnus' directness...

[alessiasfreckles]

chocolate chip cookies (alessia russo x depressed!reader)

when you quit the team, feeling lost, no one knows what to do, including you. you spend days curled up in bed, alone, until you meet alessia, your replacement, who brings you out of your shell and helps you find yourself again.

warnings: depression is a big topic in this one! no mention of s/h or suicidal thoughts, just overall depression. if you're feeling depressed, don't hesitate to reach out.

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

When you tell the team that you’re quitting, the room goes silent. Then someone bursts out laughing. You’re not sure who, you’re staring at the ground, not wanting to look into the faces of your now former teammates. They think it’s a joke. It’s only when you turn around and leave without another word that they realise you’re being serious. 

And you are. You've already spoken to Jonas - he tried to convince you to stay, but you’d made up your mind. He told you that whilst he couldn’t guarantee there would always be a spot for you on the team, there’d always be a spot for you at the club. You nodded, thanking him quietly. You won’t be going back, you know that, but it seems unnecessary to make this harder for everyone else.

You don’t go back to the training ground after you tell everyone. You’ve already packed all your things in your car, wanting to make your departure quick and easy. On the drive home, your phone keeps buzzing with messages and calls from your former teammates. When you’re at a red light, you turn your phone off.

You decided to leave a while ago. You’ve lost any passion for the game, and when you realised that you were just going through the movements, you decided it would be best for the team if you left. You were dead weight, taking up a spot that could be used by someone else. Someone better. Someone who cares.

When you get home, you leave everything in the car, even your phone. You go inside and go straight to your room, getting into bed. you’re just so tired. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, feeling slightly more peaceful now that you don’t have the prospect of quitting looming ahead. 

You wake up to the sound of someone banging on your front door. Most of the day has passed, it’s getting dark outside. You lie there for a minute, waiting to see if the banging will stop, but it just gets more insistent. You sigh, dragging yourself out of bed and to the front door. When it opens, you see the faces of your teammates. Beth, Viv, Leah, Kim, Katie. The core five. They ask what’s going on, say that they’ve been trying to call you and message you all day. You walk past them to your car, get your phone out, shrug. 

“I left my phone in the car,” you say. You watch them exchange glances.

Still, you don’t want to be a bad host. Or a bad friend - if they still consider you a friend. You decide that it’s understandable if they don’t. You invite them in, and they pile onto your sofa. Leah pulls a stool in front of the sofa, telling you to sit down. You sit. Five faces stare at you, expressions ranging from confused to worried to something like anger. 

You didn’t mean to make anyone angry. 

“What’s going on?” Kim asks, her captain voice on. 

You shrug.

“Why would you quit?” Katie asks, frowning. 

I’m not good enough, I'm bringing the team down, I don’t care about playing, the team deserves better, you all deserve better, runs through your head.

You shrug.

“Y/n, is something going on?” Viv asks, her voice gentle. 

I’m tired, I don’t want to do this anymore, I just want to sleep, I wish I didn’t exist, life would be easier if I didn’t exist, I don’t understand why any of you are here, why do you care about me, I don’t care about me, I’m not worth caring about.

You shrug, then shake your head. 

“I just don’t want to play anymore,” you finally say. You’re not sure if it’s the truth or not. You loved playing, once. You loved the feeling that you got when you were on the pitch, the way it made everything else melt away. But you haven’t had that feeling in a while. When you’re on the pitch, the voice telling you you’re not good enough follows you. 

Your former teammates frown. They’re not convinced, and honestly, neither are you. You say that you’re tired, you want to sleep. They get the hint and leave, but not before each hugging you tightly, telling you to call them if you need anything. Beth and Viv promise to bring Myle around at the weekend, and Leah says she’ll come and see you tomorrow. 

They keep it up for a few weeks, but the season is starting, and you know they’re busy. You spend your days at home, curled up in bed, cocooned in a blanket. You watch tv and scroll on your phone for hours. You order the food shopping to be delivered so you don’t even have to leave the house. Someone usually visits you on their day off, and the girls message you. You go over to Beth and Viv’s place, cuddle the dogs, watch tv there instead of in bed at home. It's okay. You’re fine. You don’t feel any better, really, but it’s fine.

It starts when you’re forced to go to a movie night. Leah promises it’s just a small group of the girls, she knows you don’t want to be faced with the whole team. She tells you that there’s one new girl there, the new signing, but that she’s really nice. On the day, you think about ways to get out of it - surely Leah can’t just force you to go? 

She can and she does. She shows up at your house, tells you that she will pick you up and put you in the car if she has to. You crack a smile at the image. It’s the first time you’ve smiled in a while. Leah notices. 

The movie night is at hers. She's picked you up early, and when you get back to her place she sets you to work, chopping fruits and veggies for a snack board. The doorbell rings, the first person arriving. You expect it to be maybe Beth and Viv, who are usually pretty punctual, but it’s the new girl. Alessia. You've seen her in person a couple of times, when the team played against Manchester United last season, but you were already feeling out of it and hadn’t paid much attention to her then.

She comes in, hugs Leah and smiles at you. You smile back. She asks if there’s anything she can do to help, and Leah directs her to some meat and cheese she’s put out that needs slicing. She's been seeing charcuterie boards on instagram a lot lately and wanted to try making one.

“You mean, you wanted to get us to make one for you,” Alessia teases, and you let out a small laugh. It surprises you, and Leah, whose mouth drops open slightly. Alessia doesn’t think twice of it - why would she, she’s never really met you before. She wouldn’t know that it’s the first time anyone has made you laugh in, well, months. 

The evening goes well. It's nice to be around the girls. You don’t pay much attention to the movie, your brain feels too foggy to keep up with it. The mean voice returns, telling you that you’re just there because they feel sorry for you. You start picking at your nails. 

“I like your nail polish,” Alessia leans over and says to you quietly. She’s sat next to you on the sofa. 

“Oh, thanks,” you reply, taken aback. The nail polish is chipped and worn, remnants from Katie coming over and painting your nails a few weeks ago. 

“It's a great colour. I like having my nails done but I'm terrible at leaving them alone. I fidget too much and I'm clumsy so I usually end up breaking at least one,” she tells you, looking at her own nails. 

You nod, not saying anything. You wrack your brain, trying to think of what to say or how to act. It's been so long since you talked to anyone new that you feel like you’ve forgotten how to be normal.

“Um, you can borrow it, if you want,” you say. “The colour, I mean. I can give it to one of the girls to give to you.”

“Really? That’d be great!” she looks at you with a big smile. You feel an odd sensation in your stomach, like you’ve just had a hot drink and the warmth is trying to spread throughout your body.

You nod shyly, giving her a small smile.

After that night, she starts messaging you. The first message you write off as being about the nail polish. After all, why else would she message you? She keeps going, though. After she sends you a message thanking you for the nail polish, she mentions a book she’s reading. You’ve read it too, so you figure the polite thing to do is to ask her what she thinks of it so far. Then she asks you for recommendations. You’ve been reading a lot, lately, now that you have time. You send her a detailed list, then realise that maybe that’s too much, but you’ve sent it now. She replies with heart eyes and exclamation marks, so you think that maybe it was okay after all. 

She asks if she can come over to borrow a book you’ve told her about. After a moment of hesitation, you say yes, she can come over tomorrow afternoon, if that works. You spend the rest of the day cleaning and tidying. The next morning you find a chocolate chip cookie recipe. You used to bake a lot, but you didn’t really have time for it anymore after becoming a professional footballer, and you weren’t meant to be eating that kind of thing anyway. The thought crosses your mind as you mix the ingredients that maybe Alessia won’t want any, since most of the team eat pretty healthily. You keep mixing. It’s too late now, you might as well finish making them.

You’re nervous, waiting for her to arrive. You’re not sure why, probably just because you haven’t interacted with her alone before. You’ve put some cookies out on a plate in case she wants any, and you’ve already got the book she wants to borrow lying on the table. 

When the doorbell rings, it makes you jump. You open the door and she steps inside, immediately giving you a hug, then quickly stepping back.

“Sorry, is hugging okay? I need to get better at checking with people before I hug them,” she says apologetically.

“Hugging is okay,” you nod, and she grins and pulls you into a hug.

“Oh my god, it smells amazing in here!” she exclaims, looking around.

“I made chocolate chip cookies,” you explain, and brace yourself for rejection. “Do you want one?”

“Absolutely!” she says, and you try to hide the surprise on your face. You offer her the plate and she takes one. When she bites into it, she lets out a moan that has you blushing. “Holy shit, y/n, these are incredible! You really made these yourself?”

You feel that warmth pooling in your stomach again. You nod, smiling shyly. 

“You should be a professional baker or something, these are so so good!” she tells you, polishing off the cookie. You can’t help but smile. There are crumbs on the corners of her mouth and a smear of chocolate on her chin.

“You’ve, um, got something,” you say, pointing to your chin. “Right there. A bit of chocolate, I think.”

“Whoops,” she blushes, wiping the chocolate away with a sheepish smile.

“Oh, I have the book you wanted,” you say, figuring that she probably has things to do. 

“Trying to get rid of me so quickly?” she asks.

A pit opens up in your stomach. “No, no!” you quickly insist, but she laughs and waves you off.

“I’m just teasing,” she tells you, smiling. 

You smile back, but it’s forced. It doesn’t seem like Alessia notices, though. 

“You have a lot of books,” she says, eyeing the large bookshelf in your living room. “Have you always read a lot?”

“I used to, when I was little. I didn’t really have time to read as much when I joined the team,” you say, and wince at the mention of your leaving. She’s never brought up the fact that she essentially replaced you, and you don’t want her to.

“I’m guessing leaving the team has given you a lot more time for things like reading?” she asks, and you nod. 

“And baking,” you add, not wanting it to seem like you’ve just been sitting at home not doing anything since you left. Even if that is the truth. She doesn’t need to know that today is the first time you’ve baked in, well, years.

“True, that one is very important!” she says, taking another cookie from the plate. “Seriously, y/n, these are amazing.”

She keeps asking you things, about yourself, about books, about your life, and you don’t realise how much time has passed until you look outside to see that it’s gotten dark. She follows your gaze out of the window and jumps up.

“Shit, I didn’t realise how late it was! I really should get going,” she says apologetically.

You hold out the plate of cookies. “Want one for the road?”

The two of you message more after that. It’s weird, how easy it is to talk to her. You chalk it up to the fact that she never met you before you left. This is the only version of you she knows. She doesn’t expect anything from you.

A couple weeks later, she asks if she can borrow another book. This time she wants you to recommend something for her, and you pore over your bookshelf for hours, trying to find the perfect book for her. Once you’ve decided on one, the next task you’re faced with is what to bake this time. She didn’t mention anything about it, but after she enjoyed your cookies so much, it feels like it’d only be right to bake something again. 

This time you make pumpkin spice cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. You carefully mould little pumpkins out of marzipan to decorate the cupcakes, and you can’t help but feel a swell of pride at the look of astonishment on her face when she eats one and lets out a moan at how good it is. She keeps commenting on the little pumpkins, in awe at the fact that you made them by hand, and the warm feeling spreads throughout your body, making your fingers tingle. After she leaves, armed with a new book and two more cupcakes, you get a message from Leah, inquiring about where her cupcake is, and how come Alessia gets cupcakes but you’ve never baked anything for her, and you smile to yourself.

The days in between visits are not as good. You still spend a lot of time curled up in bed. Sometimes, you think about the future, and you usually end up falling asleep trying not to think about it, brain spiralling. 

This goes on for a few months. Every couple of weeks, Alessia visits you for a new book and some new baked goods, and every time the two of you spend a little longer talking. You both avoid the topic of you leaving the team and what you’re going to do next. You have enough money in savings that it’s not something you have to worry about, for a while at least, and thinking about it makes you want to cry, or sleep, or just not exist anymore.

One day, though, Alessia is sitting on your sofa, eating a slice of lemon cake, when she asks gently, “What are you doing, y/n?”.

The question is enough to make you burst into tears, tears that you didn’t know you’d been holding in. 

“I don’t- I don’t know,” you sob helplessly as she rushes to your side, pulling you into a hug.

“Well, what do you want to do?” she asks after you’ve calmed down a little.

The question makes you stop. You haven’t thought about that in forever. 

“All I’ve ever wanted to do is play football,” you shrug. 

“But… not anymore?” she prompts you. You can understand why she’d think that. You quit, after all.

“I don’t know. I think I do still want to play, just… not at that level. It was too much. I feel like I-” you trail off, sighing. “I feel like I lost myself. And I still don’t know where I am, or who I am. Everything just feels so hard, like it’s all so much effort, and like there’s nothing I can do to stop it all from happening, like it’s a huge wave and I’m just getting tossed around under the water, barely able to come up for air.”

She nods, not saying anything, and you feel a sudden rush of embarrassment for opening up like that.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I said all that, I-” you say, but she cuts you off.

“No, it’s okay! I asked, I want to know. And it makes sense. A friend of mine struggled with depression a lot when we were teenagers, and-”

“Wait, depression? You think I’m depressed?” you ask, confused. Alessia laughs gently, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Oh, I’m 99% sure you’re depressed,” she says. 

“Wha- I’m not depressed,” you insist, shaking your head. “It’s not like I want to hurt myself or anything.”

“Okay, but do you ever feel like it would be easier if you didn’t exist?” she asks, and you frown. “Or, like, have you lost interest in things you were previously passionate about? Do you feel tired all the time?”

“Okay,” you say, slowly. “So, maybe I’m a little depressed.”

The mean voice at the back of your mind laughs. 

“What if I’m just being dramatic, though?” you ask. “Plus, I have no reason to be depressed. I have a good life, I have nothing to worry about.”

“Look, what if you go and see someone? A doctor, or a therapist?” she suggests, and your cheeks burn at the thought of burdening someone else with your problems.

“No, it’s fine, it’s not that serious,” you say, waving a hand. “There’s definitely more important stuff they have to deal with. I’m fine, seriously.”

She raises an eyebrow but drops the topic. She brings it up the next time she comes over though, and the next, and the next. You think about it a lot.You look stuff up online, look at social media accounts talking about people’s experiences, buy books dealing with the subject. 

The next time she comes over, you tell her you’ve made an appointment with a therapist, and she hugs you tightly. 

You start seeing each other weekly, after that. Sometimes she’ll go to yours, sometimes you’ll go to hers. She’s on a mission to help you figure out what you want, and nothing is going to stop her. She buys you baking books and equipment, goes to galleries and museums with you, watches documentaries on pretty much everything and anything the two of you can find. When you mention that you’ve been thinking about learning how to play the piano, she helps you find a teacher nearby. 

Things are looking up. You still don’t know what you want to do, but you’re feeling better. Your therapist is good, and you thank your lucky stars that you’re in a position to be able to pay for private therapy. 

When Alessia rings your doorbell, you don’t think anything of it. You’d planned for her to come over to watch a documentary she’d found about llamas (you weren’t sure what revelation you were going to have about your future from watching something about llamas, but who were you to deny her?). When you open the door, she’s smiling from ear to ear and holding a box.

“I have a surprise for you,” she says, closing the door behind her gently as she comes in.

She carefully sets the box down and opens it to reveal a small ginger kitten. It looks up at you with wide eyes and lets out a small meow, then puts its paws up on the edge of the box, looking out curiously.

“Alessia, what is this? Whose kitten is this?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“Yours?” she asks, smiling sheepishly. 

“What do you mean, mine?” 

“I mean, she’s your kitten. If you want her? Oh god, please say you want her. It’s just, you talked about having a cat when you were younger, and how much you’d like to have one again, and I figured they’re a lot lower maintenance than dogs, and-” she’s cut off by you hugging her tightly. Tears prick the corners of your eyes and you try to blink them away fiercely, still hugging Alessia. 

A small mew alerts you to the kitten, who has jumped out of the box and is rubbing her head against your leg. 

“I have her stuff in the car,” Alessia says, nodding towards the door. “I’ll just go get it?”

You nod, unable to look at anything but the tiny kitten now trying to clamber up your leg. 

You’ve been seeing your therapist for about 6 months when Alessia asks you to be her girlfriend. It’s a couple months after she got you Dorothea - Dory for short (or Dorito, occasionally), as you’d named the ginger kitten. You’re stunned, but quickly nod yes as she starts to bite her lip, looking worried at your lack of answer. You hug her, feeling her breathe a sigh of relief against you, and when she kisses you she tastes like the chocolate chip cookies you’d made earlier that day, the same recipe as the first time she’d come over. 

Your therapist has been helping you figure out what you want, now that you’re slowly regaining some of the passion you’d lost. You decide that you do still want to do something with football, just, as you’d told Alessia, not professional football. You hadn’t realised how much you’d missed having time to yourself, having other hobbies outside of your work. 

You get in contact with Jonas, who puts you in contact with some other people, and before you know it you’re back at the club. Not on the team, you've made it pretty clear that that’s not what you want. Instead, you’re spending the day at the youth program. You already know by lunch time that this is what you want to do. 

Before you know it, you’re settled in as a coach for the Academy. Your days consist of working with kids, young people who have the whole world ahead of them. You still have bad days sometimes, where it feels like you can’t get out of bed. On days like that Dory cuddles up next to you in bed, and Alessia holds you close. She moves in after you get the job, claiming it makes sense, since you’re always either at her place or she’s at your place anyway. She insists that she’s still very much a dog person, but you catch her asleep on the sofa one evening, with Dory curled up on her lap, and you smile.

#alessia russo #woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo fanfic #woso fanfics #woso #woso imagine #awfc #also i know this is a pretty 'good' image of depression #and that it's usually much messier than this #but for the sake of the fic i left it fairly 'mild' #tw: depression #hannah writes fics

[spinningwebsandtales]

DMC5 Guys Accidentally Kissing Reader HCs

Requested by @danielle-marie​

(A/N:) Thank you for the request! I love doing these headcanons for my readers. They’re really fun to write and are some of my most popular! Buckle in for some fluff everyone cause this is gonna be fun! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Dante X FemReader

Dante always teases you, acting like he’s going to kiss you.

You push him away thinking he’s mostly just joking, which he’s actually just trying to hide his actual feelings under his goofy persona.

So you actually never know what he is thinking or feeling cause he always hides everything under corny jokes or a grin.

Dante hides the fact well that the feelings he has for you runs deeper than even he can imagine.

Then the day came that day that he could no longer hide his feelings.

It had been a normal day when the job came in from Morrison. Dante wanted you to stay but you refused.

Dante knew it was going to be a difficult mission but you stayed in and handled it as you normally do.

His adrenaline was pumping at the end of the fight and he wasn’t thinking straight when he wrapped around your waist.

You gasped at the sudden touch before you were tugged into his side and Dante’s lips were on yours.

You stiffened looking at him with wide eyes before Dante regained his bearings.

He released you quickly as you stumbled backwards.

He sheepishly looked down, not knowing how to explain that it had been an accident when you said his name.

He looked up, surprised to see you so close.

“Is that how you feel?”

“Yeah.”

You kissed him gently back.

Vergil X FemReader

Vergil always seems to keep you at arms length so you honestly can’t tell if he likes you or just tolerates you.

Every time you get a little too close he puts distance between you both.

It hurts your feelings but you keep the hurt hidden as it would just push him away more.

He throws himself headfirst into whatever he’s doing, especially when it comes to battle.

Demons have no chance when Vergil is before them with Yamato.

You are rarely able to help when it comes to battles.

One day that changed when the hoard you and him came across was proving too much for even Vergil.

He’s too busy trying to keep himself alive that he has no time to check on you.

When he dispatches the last one he turns to find you, only to see you gone.

Despite his cool attitude towards you he cares deeply. So deeply it scares him.

He just doesn’t know how to express himself very well and it comes off as distant and harsh.

But when he finds you laying on the ground, surrounded by demon corpses and your body in a pool of blood. His blood freezes.

He rushes to your side knowing that he just lost one of the people he truly cares about.

Overwhelmed by his emotions and not used to feeling such things he kisses you as he’s scared he’s lost you.

You stir causing Vergil to stiffen and release you.

“Did you just kiss me?”

“I thought you were dead. It was an accident I didn’t know what to do.”

“Well at least that confirms that you don’t hate me.”

I could never hate you.”

Nero X FemReader

Nero and you have a very special relationship as you both like each other but have a hard time expressing how you both feel.

You both think so much alike you butt heads quite often which leads to arguments.

They aren’t arguments where you come to blows but just over stupid things.

Like if Nero leaves the toilet seat up or you left the milk out on the counter.

You both feel stupid afterwards and wind up making up a little later and becoming close once again.

But Nero has been noticing that his feelings for you are changing more and more each day.

He can’t imagine his life without you and it scares him that one of these arguments would have you storming out of his door and life forever.

Today was one of those times he was the most fearful as you were shouting at him with no end in sight.

He couldn’t remember the reason the argument started but here you were shouting and pointing your finger in his face.

He steps back trying to apologize but he can’t even get one word in as you are on a roll.

At a loss on what to do Nero sudden grabs you, pulling you in, and kissing you quickly.

Cutting off your argument you stand there speechless.

“Did you just kiss me?”

“Yeah. I didn’t know what to do and it just happened.”

“What were we arguing about?”

“I don’t remember.”

V X FemReader

V is a quiet man and more often than not he keeps his feelings to himself.

So you really don’t know what he’s thinking majority of the time and he’s good at keeping things hidden.

If his attention isn’t on you, it’s on his ever present book of poems.

You were beginning to think that he loved his book more than you.

It made you huffy if he didn’t pay attention to you in a certain amount of time but you didn’t voice your annoyance.

The reason V would retreat into his book is that he didn’t know how to react to the feelings that swirled inside when you were near.

One night you were making tea for the both of you, enjoying a cozy evening inside.

The radio playing softly in the background while V read from the book out loud.

His voice filling the house with deep rich tones that flowed from his tongue.

You found yourself enraptured as you placed the tea cup on the table at his side.

You leaned closer and closer, hanging onto every sentence until you were as close as possible. 

V paused midsentence to grab his teacup but when he turned, your close proximity was a surprise and he found his lips upon yours.

You stiffened and he quickly moved away, not wanting to insult you or think that was his intentions the whole time.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had gotten so close to me.”

“That’s okay I should have just left your tea and went to sit down. I couldn’t help it as I really liked that one.”

“Would you like me to read it again?”

“Yes please.”

He patted the cushion by his side and you took the offer.

When you sat back down your teacup cupped in trembling hands.

V leaned over kissing your cheek before going back to reading to you.

#Dante X Reader #Vergil X Reader #Nero X Reader #V X Reader #DMC Imagine #Devil May Cry #Devil May Cry Imagine #DMC #Not My Gifs #My Writing

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Explosion of Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: stepping on a mine, thinking you're gonna die, thinking the love of your life is gonna die, angst, fluff at the end

Summary: Fury has you and the team going through a minefield to look for lost data the Soviets left behind. Your scanners pick up most of the mines, but luck has it that you step on the most dangerous one of all.

Squares Filled: explosion (2020) for @star-spangled-bingo

Author’s Note: I realize that landmines explode as soon as someone makes contact with them, HOWEVER, this is my story and it's fiction so I get to make the rules and I say only when the pressure is relieved do they explode like in the movies.

x

Miles of wasteland stand before you, acres of land that are charred from the explosions that happened between the Soviets and US Intelligence. The Soviets stole data with the intention of selling it to assassins and killers, so Fury tasked your team to go collect that stolen data. When the Soviets knew the Us was closing in on them, they scattered the data across acres knowing it would take them forever to try and retrieve it.

You’re about to step foot onto the charred land when Bucky stops you.

“Look at this.” He points to a sign a few yards away. “This is a minefield. Be careful. I don’t really wanna clean bits and pieces of the team.”

“Should we turn back?” you ask. “We only have technology scanners for the area. We can grab mine scanners.”

“No, we’re already here. Just be careful. Our scanners should be able to detect them.”

“Easy for you to say. You can fly,” you joke with Tony.

The land is so large that you have to split up on your own. Tony’s right, the scanners you have are able to detect most of the mines. Some of them are hidden so you’re not going to touch those areas if you don’t know if there is a landmine or not. Everyone is connected with earpieces so you can communicate if something is wrong, so you’re just listening to the casual conversation some are having as if you’re taking a walk in the park instead of through a deadly minefield.

“Are you and Laura finally taking that vacation you’ve been talking about?” Natasha asks.

“Yeah. Cooper is old enough to watch the other two. I was thinking of taking her up north.”

“I think she’d like that.”

You scan the ground as you walk slowly and find one of the boxes buried containing data. You kneel and dig the box up before plugging your flash drive into the data box. Once it’s done downloading, you take it out and continue to search for other data boxes. Your scanner is picking up most of the landmines but there is one patch of land that is coming up blank.

Stupid you walks right over it thinking it’s safe. You step onto fresh soil and hear something click from below you. You pause and look down to see what you stepped on. It’s buried underneath the ground but you can definitely feel something under your foot. Since this place is so big, there is no one around you to help you. No one knows you’ve stepped on one. No one knows you need help.

Your first instinct is to run like hell and hope you can survive, but you’ll only have a second before the mine goes off. Tears start rolling down your cheeks at the thought of dying. You’re still young, you still want to see the world, get married to the love of your life, and live life to the fullest with him by your side.

“Hey, guys?” you sniffle and wipe your tears even though more fall. “I’m in trouble here.”

“What’s going on?” Bucky asks in concern.

“I stepped on a mine.” Everyone becomes alert. Your body shakes in fear and your voice cracks under the pressure. “What do I do?”

“I’m on my way. Don’t move,” Bucky says. Only Bucky comes to your aid because he doesn’t want to put anyone else at risk of stepping on a mine. Bucky can see just how terrified you are when he gets to you. “Doll, you’re gonna be okay. Don’t worry, I got you.”

“I don’t want to die,” you cry.

“You’re not gonna die. I promise I won’t let that happen. Take some deep breaths for me, Doll.” The first and second ones are shaky but the third and fourth ones are much smoother. “Good girl. You’re doing great. Keep doing that. I’m gonna dig the mine out so I can see what we’re dealing with. This won’t explode. I’m just digging around it.”

“Okay,” you sigh shakily.

Bucky gets on his knees and uses his knife to dig out the soil around the mine. Tony, Rhodey, and Sam fly over to see how bad the situation is while the rest of the Avengers make their way back to the start of the minefield.

“What’s going on here? What do you see?” Sam asks Bucky.

Bucky digs out enough soil to see exactly the kind of mind you stepped on.

“It’s a bounding mine.”

“Shit,” Sam sighs.

“What does that mean?” you panic.

“Nothing--”

“Don’t bullshit me, Bucky. What does that mean?”

“It’s a more deadly mine than the others. It shoots the main propeller about four feet into the air, and metal shards fly out of it over the span of six hundred feet. It’s very deadly.”

“Can you disable it?” Steve asks over comm.

“No.”

“Oh, God,” you cry and cover your mouth. You take two deep breaths to calm yourself down. “Bucky, get the hell out of here.”

“Like hell, I’m leaving you.”

“Bucky, please,” you whimper and take his hand. He stands to his full height in front of you. “I don’t want to die but I don’t want you to die more. You need to get out of here. There’s no use for this mine to take both of us out. Tony, get him the hell out of here.”

Tony is about to take Bucky when your boyfriend holds up a hand to stop him.

“Wait. Can I at least get a kiss goodbye?”

Instead of giving him a verbal answer, you pull him close and kiss him like it’s gonna be your last. He slides his hand into your hair and grips it gently so he can control the kiss. He kisses you in a way that makes your head dizzy. The kind of kiss that makes you forget about everything but the feel of his lips.

If he’s gonna kiss you one more time, may as well make it memorable. You pull away from him and open your eyes to study the shade of blue in his. You expect him to pull away and leave your side but you frown when he doesn’t. You look down to see him standing on top of the mine and you are free. He must have switched positions with you while kissing you.

“No, what did you do?” you gasp.

“I promised you I wouldn’t let you die.”

“No, I’m not letting you do this!”

“Tony, get her out of here.”

As soon as Tony’s hands are on you, you’re fighting him.

“No! Bucky!” Tony grips you tightly and flies off with you in his arms. The image of Bucky gets smaller and smaller until you can’t see him anymore. As soon as Tony sets you down, you’re running toward Bucky. Steve jumps into action and practically tackles you to the ground. “No! Let me go! Please! Bucky!!!”

“Y/N, stop fighting.”

“No! You gotta let me go. I have to be with him!” Suddenly, an explosion happens and you sob loudly. “NO! Bucky!!”

You fall to the ground in a fit of sobs at the loss of your boyfriend. Steve’s arms are still wrapped around your body to prevent you from going after him. As soon as one explosion happened, another one followed suit, and another one, and another one. The air is covered with thick smoke that is very hard to see through so you’re not sure if Bucky is even alive.

Everyone is silent for their fallen friend. The only thing that can be heard is your heartbreaking sobs.

“Look, I see something,” Clint points out something in the smoke.

You look up and see something emerging from the smoke. Once the smoke clears, you can see Bucky walking toward the group with his vibranium arm in his flesh hand.

“Did you really think I was gonna let a mine take me from my girl?” he coughs.

The spikes on his body open to welcome his arm and he locks it into place. He whips his arm around to make sure it’s on properly, and you scramble out of Steve’s arms. You run into Bucky’s arms and cry against his chest. You’re too overwhelmed to say anything but hug, kiss, and embrace him. When you’ve calmed down, you pull away from him and slap him in the chest.

“Never do that again!”

“I had no choice. I knew I could have survived but you wouldn’t have.”

“You could have at least told me that!”

“I didn’t know if it was gonna work or not,” he says quietly.

Everyone got what they needed from the minefield, so you head back to the Compound. You haven’t said one word to Bucky after leaving the minefield, and he hates when you give him the silent treatment.

“Doll, please talk to me,” he begs. He follows you into your shared bedroom, and you quickly head into the bathroom. Before he can join you, you close the door and lock it so he can’t get in. Of course, he can get in with his metal arm but he’s respecting your privacy. “I’m sorry, but I had to save your life.” He rests his forehead on the door and he can hear you crying softly inside. “Y/N, please come out.”

You don’t. He sits on the floor right outside the bathroom door and waits for you to come out. He sits there for hours waiting patiently for you to come out of the bathroom. When you do, you take a seat next to him on the floor.

“What we have is a partnership, Bucky.” You look into his eyes. “Your life isn’t fully yours anymore. You have my heart in your hand so if you die, then so will I.”

“The same thing goes for you, Doll.”

“If you would have told me what you wanted to do, I would have been more likely to go along with it. You have to be better at communicating. I will do the same.”

“Okay, you got it. Do you want to watch movies for the rest of the night?”

“Yes,” you smile.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fiction #bucky barnesfanfiction #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fan fic #mcu #marvel fluff #mcu fanfiction #marvel fiction #marvel angst #mcu fluff #mcu angst

[luveline]

Would you be willing to write a little blurb of Steve comforting reader who is in recovery from self harm? I know this is a very no no subject for some writers so I understand if this is a no!

fem!reader !! cw self harm (mention of the self injury, no active graphic imagery, but some details that could be evocative)

You’ve taken to curling up in whatever space he leaves. In bed, you sidle close to his side with your ear to his stomach. On the couch, you’re laying on his lap, every breath a press of ribs against his thighs. If Steve’s on a sun lounger in the backyard, you’re sitting on the ground next to him with an arm hooked over his leg and your cheek bitten by metal.  

It’s sort of odd to see your arms without red cuts and welts. Curled again, you and Steve are sitting on the porch watching the sun dropping lazily to the horizon, the sky a funny shade of blue. You’re actually turned away from the sun and toward the house, Steve to the sun, like inverted commas interlinked. Your hand is on his leg, and your arm is bare and starkly uninjured. 

That’s too generous, maybe. Evidence of a bad habit long to kick tracks the length of you, white and purple and red scars criss-crossed through your skin. 

He’s seen them thick with dried blood and sore to the touch. Your skin aflame. Not because you’ve ever showed him of your own volition, you wouldn’t. You’ve always likened your self-injury to a contagion. “I don’t wanna put thoughts in your head,” you whispered. 

It was a nice concern for you to have, but Steve isn’t at any risk of hurting himself (purposefully, at least). He has no urges. He didn’t even know people did stuff like that until he met you. Maybe that’s why it breaks his heart so much. You hurt so much. You feel terrible and you take it out on yourself and Steve just doesn’t get it, ‘cos you’re aces. 

He never shied away from it, even if he didn’t like that you were doing it. He still remembers the first time he realised what you were doing, his confusion, the immediate internal recoil. How could you do that to yourself? Why would you? You’ve always been prone to that awful persisting sadness under the skin, but Steve knows a lot of sad people. He knows what it’s like to wish vehemently that you were a better version of yourself, or somebody else, or just gone. 

But you’re doing better now. He resists the urge to kiss your hands whenever he sees you and you act like you aren’t doing a brave thing. 

Steve’s stupid but he’s not stupid. (Or, at least he feels that way.) He knows you’re finding it hard to stop, like an addict. It’s a habit. A behaviour that takes conscious effort to break until it doesn’t. The worst bit is that you never even asked for help. 

Your hand twitches on his leg. 

Steve curls a hand behind your neck, kissing you softly, the silky press of your lips to his. You inhale and cut the quiet buzz of cicadas, your breath surprised but not tight. 

“Sorry,” he says, “was that okay? I was just thinking about you.” 

“It’s fine.” You laugh against his lips and take a kiss, evening the score. “It’s always okay. Kiss me whenever you want.” 

“You looked mopey,” he says. Foot in mouth disease forever. 

“I’m not mopey, just distracted.” 

“I know, it’s offensive. You come over here to hang out and spend the last hour in deep thought.” He makes it clear he’s joking through his light tone and his smile, your eyes met, his hand sliding down your shoulder and your arm. He’s especially careful as his fingers run down your forearm. You watch the path of his hand as it falls, twining your fingers weakly with his. “You can tell me anything.” 

“I do tell you anything.” 

“Well, just telling you again.” He kisses your cheek, then, less gentle, your lips. 

You have this aversion to saying the worst part out loud. There’s always a metaphor or an omission. You can’t say cut, it’s too much, but you’ve said hurt. You’ll admit to self injury but not the action. “It’s fine,” you say now. 

“I think you’re doing a good job.” 

You laugh softly through your nose. “Thank you.” 

“I’m not kidding.” He blows a breath up his face. “Look, can I just be honest with you?” 

Your smile turns uneasy at his bluntness. “Um. Are you breaking up with me?” 

Steve shakes his head. “Never,” he says, pushing your sleeve up your arm slowly, and then faster when you don’t resist. “I can’t remember the last time I saw you without them.” He doesn’t say cuts either, mostly for your sake. 

“Sorry.” 

He shakes his head again. “For what? I’m just saying. You’ve had them this whole time and I’ve never– they’ve never stopped me from wanting to kiss your face off.” He probably shouldn’t make jokes. He backtracks. “I mean, they don’t make a difference to me, I like you even if you can’t, uh… Even if the impulse is too much. But I’m thrilled you’re, you know, not doing it.” 

“I know,” you murmur. 

“I love you.” 

“I know.” Your voice is nearly inaudible, “That’s why it’s easier now.” 

His heart swells with pride and love and an unfightable want to hug you. He slides his arms around you from under your armpits, forcing you to hug his neck, stealing a kiss to the cheek as he squeezes you forward. “I just want you to know that I get it. Like, how hard you’re working to not do it.”

“Steve,” you admonish quietly. 

“Sorry, I’ll stop talking about it if you want.” 

“I mean… It's kinda nice to talk about it. It’s not in my head.” 

“It’s not in your head.” 

“But it feels weird ‘cos it’s like, something I should be doing anyways. It’s like getting praise for washing your hands.” 

Steve thinks there’s a pretty big difference between wanting to hurt yourself but resisting it and washing your hands, but he knows what you’re saying. Doesn’t agree, but doesn’t want to invalidate you either. However you need to think about it to get through it is up to you. “I can praise you for washing your hands. I want to.” 

Steve encourages you to turn into the sunshine. You lay your cheek against his shoulder. “Love you,” you say, your hand on his leg. 

He stares right at the sun and blinks hurriedly. “I love you too.” 

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

[mangoisms]

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter one: on my way to circle k

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.3k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

The Slurpee machine is broken again. 

It isn’t that big of an issue, not particularly world-ending, no, especially since you get regularly held at gunpoint (or knifepoint) and occasionally used as a hostage. 

But for you, working the night shift from eleven PM to seven AM, you kind of need the sugar boost. The Slurpees are easier on your stomach than the coffee is. Even if they do stain your mouth. 

You sigh, continuing to stare at the machine; it whirs and sputters strangely and you set aside the cup to shut it off. You’ll also need to file the paperwork for it to be fixed. That seriously blows. 

You get it unplugged just as the gust of wind hits. 

You stumble. Shelves groan in protest. Several rows of granola bars and trail mix are sent flying. 

Oh, great, who is it now—

You hear your name in a question, from a very familiar voice. 

You spit out a mouthful of your hair. “Flash?”

Sure enough, in the flesh, the Flash grins at you, blue lightning fading from his body. He spreads his arms as he exclaims your name again.

In a blink, he is there, arms wrapping around you, lifting you off the ground as he squeezes the life out of you. Another blink and you’re on the ground, looking at him, his hand on your shoulder. 

“Look at you, kid. It’s good to see you. I can’t believe you’re still working here.”

A stupid grin forms on your lips. “It’s not the same here without you eating up our inventory.”

He laughs. “I bet!”

You shake your head, fixing your hair and your shirt. Flash notices the state of the granola bars and trail mix, sends you an apologetic smile, and in the next blink, they are back on the shelves, neatly arranged. 

“So, what brings you here? If you can answer that.”

He waves a hand, flitting around, emptying the sausage grill and making himself several hot dogs. 

“One of the rogues got a little, shall we say, ambitious and wanted to try his luck here. Just trying to snatch him up before Batman finds out.”

“Let me guess—Trickster?”

He points a hot dog loaded with mustard and ketchup at you. “Bingo.”

“It’s dripping.”

“Aw, shit.” He shoves the rest of the hot dog in his mouth, grabs a napkin, and starts dabbing at the spot of mustard on his suit. 

You watch him, amused, but also morbidly fascinated as usual at seeing him eat so much. When he finishes the hot dogs, he goes for the pizza. It makes sense when you think about it, that a guy who can run faster than the speed of light should need to eat so much, but it’s been a while since you’ve had the pleasure of watching him refuel. Six months, actually, since you returned from Keystone City. 

You scratch your head. “I’m not sure why Trickster would want to come here. Batman, I think, is a worse punishment than you—”

“Agree, even if that’s also a little insulting to me.”

“Oh, you know what I mean. You’re avoiding him, aren’t you?”

Flash nods. “This is true. Carry on.”

“Well… Gotham already has a joke-themed guy. I don’t think Joker is going to take too kindly to someone encroaching on that. Unless he’s back in Arkham. Though he might’ve escaped again…”

“Y’see, that’s what I thought. It’s gonna sound bad, too, but I’m kinda hoping those two take care of each other, then I can get Trickster back to Iron Heights without any issues. But—”

You crack a smile, guessing his next words immediately. “When is it ever that easy?”

You had once believed the Flash to be just about infallible. After all, he is the Flash. This is the guy who, like you said, can run faster than the speed of light. He can canvas a city in under a minute. That’s how he takes care of Central City and Keystone City. (Well, the addition of the other Flash and Kid Flash probably help, too, but you know.)

But it’s not that easy. It’s why, you think, Metropolis has issues, even when they have Superman. 

No rest for the wicked and all. 

“Well, it’s still good to see you,” you say, a tad more hesitantly this time. Unsure if you can say that. 

Flash looks back at you, sending you a warm smile. “It’s good to see you, too. How’s school?”

“No classes now. Financial aid doesn’t cover the summer, so.”

He frowns. “You’re still on track to graduate next year, though, right?”

You pause, surprised he remembered you saying that. “Yeah, yeah, I am.” 

Flash nods, worries assuaged, then his gaze strays to the Slurpee machine, its lights turned off. “Aw, it’s not working?”

“Not today, sorry.”

He purses his lips, head tilting as he looks at the counter where the machine and your abandoned cup are. 

“Wait a second,” he says, then the food that was in his hands is on the counter and he’s gone with arcs of blue lightning following him, a tingly feeling spreading through your fingertips and toes, like when you used to be a kid and dragged your hands across those old TV screens, feeling the static. 

True to his word, in the next second, he is in front of you, two Slurpees in hand. One blue raspberry and another cherry. 

You grin as he proudly presents the blue raspberry Slurpee to you. 

“Thanks.”

He winks. “My pleasure.”

He collects his food again then gestures to the front with his head. Sipping at the ice-cold Slurpee, you follow him, sliding behind the counter.

“Time to head off?” you guess, ringing up the food he already ate, then the rest of the stuff. 

He slips out a few bills from a hidden pocket at his hip. “Yeah, I need to go before—”

“Flash!” The door opens roughly. You balk as you see who it is. “Seriously? You can’t just run off. You’re just as bad as Impulse sometimes, I swear.”

Red Robin stands there, hands on his hips, scowling, doing a good impression of a teacher scolding a student, which is really weird for you, since you’ve always held a good dose of fear and respect for the Bats and this doesn’t really… go on par with that. And also, you’re pretty sure Flash is older than him. 

Flash frowns. “Now that’s seriously uncalled for. I’m much better than he is. We were done talking, weren’t we? You’d call me if you found anything and it’s not like it would take me time to get there, would it?”

Red Robin doesn’t respond to that, mostly because he’s looking at you now. You’ve never seen him up close — any of them up close. Black fair falls sharply over his forehead, a black domino mask hiding his eyes. Not like a normal one; this one allows for more coverage under his eyes, going down to his nose, the end of which curves in a way reminiscent of a bird. But under the bright fluorescents of Circle K, everything else is easy to make out. Pale skin, a sharp jaw, a soft-looking mouth. 

Great. He’s hot. And something else… something that niggles at you. Familiar in a way that bothers you because you’ve never seen him in person. Not like this. 

You swallow nervously, giving him a half-hearted wave. The action jars him and he looks away from you quickly. 

“Hey, don’t be mean to her,” Flash chides. “Seriously. Look at her. You’ve made her nervous.”

“Flash.”

He shoots you a troublesome grin. “Nah, don’t worry about him, kid. He’s harmless.”

“Flash,” Red Robin hisses out, his voice sounding stranger than before, modulated, in a way. 

You compose yourself, giving Flash a look. “You know better than that. Perception means everything.”

“That is true,” he says. “But believe me. If fear worked as well as they’d like it to, Gotham would be the safest city in the country.”

A long-suffering sigh. Red Robin is turned away now and by the movement of his arm, pinching the bridge of his nose, exasperated. 

“Hey, I’m not wrong,” he says to him, even despite you silently waving for him to drop it. “Look, fear is fine and all. But I don’t think there’s anything wrong with nurturing relationships with the people you protect. That’s what I did with you, isn’t it, kid?”

“Yeah, but I’m also not, you know, from there…”

He collects his change. “Which is why it’s even more embarrassing that these guys make you nervous and I don’t.”

Red Robin huffs. 

Flash shrugs, smirking. “Just food for thought. I’ll see you around, yeah, kiddo? Gotta get going before this guy gets annoyed enough to just tell Batman about me and then I’ll really have problems.”

Then he’s gone, blue lightning arcing in his wake. Red Robin sighs again and leaves without a word or backward glance. 

You stand there for a minute, unsure if that really happened. But the signature Slurpee cup of blue raspberry, already sweating because the June heat in Gotham is unbearable and the AC is not up to task, assures you very much that that did just happen.

A little unsteady, you take a seat on the stool, shaking your head and dragging the cup to you. 

At least you got to see Flash again.

You don’t see him again, which is what you expected. 

What you don’t expect is the appearance of Red Robin the next night. 

You’ve grown up in Gotham City. Like anyone else, you have a healthy dose of fear and respect for the vigilantes that prowl the shadows. You also, unlike Vicki Vale or any journalist or obsessive conspiracy theorist, have absolutely zero interest in interacting with them. 

Usually, interacting with them means you are in grave danger. 

(You had to unlearn some of that during your brief tenure in Keystone City; the Flash was a little bit different from them. Maybe more than a little bit…)

So, when Red Robin shows up at Circle K at half past one in the morning, you are… a tad wary. 

It doesn’t help that he seems awkwardly frozen, too, as your voice catches in the middle of your perfunctory Hi, welcome in as you realize who it is. 

For a minute, it is painfully, painfully quiet. 

“Is there something—”

“Do you have any—”

You both stop. You purse your lips. Red Robin is… blushing a little bit? Holy shit.

“Go ahead,” he says, clearing his throat after. His voice still sounds off like yesterday—modulated.

You grimace. “Sorry, I was just asking if there was something going on? Should I lock down the shop or hide or something?”

He looks briefly confused. “No? I mean, no… Everything is fine. I was just wondering if you guys had any, uh—” he seems to falter, scrambling a little bit “—hot… chocolate?”

Hot chocolate in June? What a weirdo.

You keep your face straight, though. 

Flash might’ve let you off the hook when it came to formalities but you’d be an idiot to think you could get away with that with these guys. 

He exhales the briefest laugh at something, then—you, you realize, your expression, which should be perfectly polite, what the hell. He turns his head away as a smile curls his lips. That niggling feeling—which began as soon as you realized he was here—strengthens. You push it away for a second.

“I know. Late night. Don’t like coffee, so it’s a good alternative.”

How did he—? 

Must be the detective thing.

You apologize anyway. 

“Sorry. My, uh, friend’s like that, in a way,” you say, your tongue again moving faster than your brain can grapple with. He won’t care about the fact that your friend, Tim, is like that, too. Well, Tim likes the occasional energy drink if he’s staying up late because he doesn’t like coffee. Not this hot chocolate business. But maybe? Doesn’t sound like a bad idea, actually. Probably better than Red Bull, even if he doesn’t drink it often, maybe once or twice a month. And, anyway, it’s not the point. This guy doesn’t care. He probably couldn’t care less. You’re just trying to show him—oh, it doesn’t matter. This entire thing has gone straight to shit. All because he managed to read your judgment.

“Oh?” It’s a question but it’s a bit strangled. See? He doesn’t care. Poor guy. Probably trying to think of a way to get out of this. Well, you’ll do him one better. 

“Uh, yeah… he’s—well. Doesn’t matter. Yeah, the machine is working. It’s over there.” 

“Thanks.”

You nod and glance away, leaving him to cross to the other side of the store. You can’t help but watch him go, watching the way the heavy black cape swishes with his movements, boots soundless on the shitty tiled floors. He disappears behind the shelf, but his head is visible. A head of dark, dark hair that seems… familiar to you.

Ugh. What is with you?

It’s Red freakin’ Robin. You’ve glimpsed him and the others briefly. Shadows in the night, swinging from buildings, jumping from rooftops. Anybody who lives in Gotham long enough has seen the same. Doesn’t mean you know him enough to be this way, to be so bothered by something that won’t even come to mind.

You shake your head briefly. 

You should think more on why he’s even here.

Though, it seems obvious, given what happened yesterday night.

Flash has a way of getting beneath your skin and inciting the most childish tendencies. You imagine his little comment about trust between vigilante and citizen bothered Red Robin.

Well, rest assured, you understand the position they are in. You enjoyed the way Flash visited you but they can’t afford that. Perception is gold. It is true, in some ways, that if it were as effective as they wanted it to be, Gotham would be less crime-ridden than it currently is. 

(But that was also a conundrum with the corrupt government. So long as the systems were in place, crime would always happen, and it would take more than the Bats to fix that.)

Either way, they cannot afford for that mask to slip—metaphorically and literally.

There is a level of trust, you think, between the Bats and the people but… it’s not the same kind Flash fosters with his own. 

You feel obligated to let Red Robin know that, with that, he has no obligation to do anything out of the ordinary. 

So, that’s what you do when he comes back over to the counter, two small cups of hot chocolate in hand.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

He turns forward with a five dollar bill in hand. “I can’t just not pay—”

“I’m not talking about that.” 

He is paying. You are moderately appreciative of what they do but not that appreciative. 

“So, what else is it that I don’t have to do?”

You gesture between you two. “This. Come here to try and prove the Flash wrong.”

“I’m not—”

You try to level with him. 

“It’s cool, man. He can be annoying. Annoying enough that he could make anyone want to prove him wrong. I get it. But he’s also a little bit of a doof when it comes to matters of the public. Though I’m betting he was trying to aggravate you more than anything. Either way, I get it. You have an image to keep up. Do what you have to do.”

“So, you don’t want me to come back?” Not an accusation. A genuine question.

You blink. “That’s not what I said. I don’t mind. I’m just… letting you know.”

“What do you know about it, anyway? Upholding an image? You seem very confident on the do’s and don’ts, despite being a civilian.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You guys actually refer to us non-vigilantes as civilians? Like, unironically?”

He doesn’t say anything. Just looks at you with the emotionless white lids of the domino mask, lips pressed in a line.

You smile and roll your eyes, finally taking his five and opening the register. “I’m majoring in communication with a concentration in PR. Did an internship at Quickstart Enterprises last semester working with their PR department. You can say I know a thing or two about it.”

“What year?”

“Just finished my third. Starting my final in the fall. Look, I’m not saying you have to take my advice, I just wanted you to know. That’s all. I’m not holding it against you.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

You slide his change to him. “That’s all I ask.”

He picks up the cups, says, “Keep the change,” and then, he’s gone, dark cape fluttering, his figure swallowed up by the darkness of the night. 

The only traces of his presence is the door slowly closing and the change still sitting on the counter.

These hero-types and their dramatic exits. Honestly. 

You meet the Flash in your second week of work at Circle K.

The stipend from QE covered your housing and groceries but didn’t allow for much options regarding the latter. At least not the fresh produce kind. 

So, you picked up a job at Circle K. Part-time only, which worked well with the schedule you had at QE. You typically worked evenings—not the graveyard shift you do now, which you took only because it paid better during the night—so from seven to eleven. 

The Flash was different from the Bats in that regard. While Signal worked during the day, the rest of them worked during the night. 

Flash told you he liked sleep, so he would take care of things during a reasonable hour in the evening to accommodate that, which meant you were beheld to his presence. 

Frequently.

And the first time…

You have no idea what to make of the superhero currently raiding the sausage grill.

A larger part of you is suspicious, hoping that the Flash isn’t about to come up to you and say something arrogant about not being required to pay. A lot of the cops you get say something to that effect. It takes so much willpower in you to not roll your eyes. 

But another part of you right now, the Tim part of your brain, is fascinated. Wants to ask some geeky questions about his power. Presumably, the fact that he is the fastest man alive means he has to eat a lot to sustain it, right?

Well. That one is a bit self-explanatory. At least if the way he’s stuffing his face tells you anything.

Suspicion wins out, though.

Keystone City is a nice enough city. Central City, across the river, is the same. They aren’t Gotham, that’s for sure, and sometimes you don’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse. 

It’s mostly that Keystone City is situated in Kansas and across the Mississippi, in Mississippi, is Central City. These regions of the country, historically conservative, make you a bit tetchy. Not at all helped by the fact that for a very long time, Keystone City was suspended in the fifties. Or rather, what they thought were the fifties. Time passed normally outside of it until the Flash fixed everything.

It gives Keystone an aesthetic old-timey vibe to it but with all the modern luxuries of the late 2010s, like phones and, you know, civil rights. 

But things have been okay, for the most part. The people you encounter here at Circle K are amiable enough. (Well, except for the cops you get. You could go without dealing with those idiots.)

Though, admittedly, between work for QE and here and trying to keep yourself fed and (mostly) rested, you haven’t gotten out much.

The Flash, though… you haven’t directly encountered him. Not in your few weeks here. Sometimes when walking to the subway, you feel the sharp gust of wind, commonly associated with him as he makes his way through the city faster than a speeding bullet, glass windows and cars rattling dangerously in the aftermath of his path. On the news, when he takes down whichever rogue woke up on the wrong side of the bed, and in the newspaper. But nothing beyond that.

People speak fondly of him, for the most part. Rumors are solid sources of information but you just can’t help but be a little bit suspicious. There is such a thing as too good to be true, after all…

You reach for your half-empty cup of blue raspberry Slurpee. Though it’s the beginning of September, summer takes longer to leave the midwest, you’ve learned, and the summers here are loads worse than ones you’ve experienced in Gotham. 

Before you can even get your mouth around the red straw, a breeze hits and you blink, finding the Flash in front of you, depositing mostly empty cartons of hot dogs onto the counter, with a few of them still full. On their way to being empty, though, as he crams more into his mouth. A cup of cherry Slurpee finishes it off.

The Flash points a half-eaten hot dog at you. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”

You narrow your eyes. “I’m sorry?”

“No, no, not like that. You’ve just got this suspicion to you. This… paranoia. A paranoia that can only belong to someone from Gotham,” he says, nodding to himself. 

Well, that’s—

Hm.

A bit embarrassed to be caught out like that—because it isn’t the first time—you attempt to make up for it.

“I’m from Metropolis, actually.” 

Best to stay on the east coast. Even you couldn’t pass as someone from the west coast, like Star City or Coast City or something. 

Flash grins at you. “Liar.”

You aren’t used to this kind of playful banter. Certainly not from a literal superhero, from someone who regularly saves the world with the likes of Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman and more. You don’t think you expected the cold brutality the city gets from the Bats back home but… you didn’t expect this, either.

To get a much-needed sense of normalcy, you scan one of the hot dog cartons, adding them up on the screen.

“Was it that obvious? I wasn’t trying to be… I mean, I was, but, you know, I didn’t, um…”

You stop, cringing. Very eloquent and more than a little annoying, given your career choice. Can’t be like that when you get put on the spot. Even if it’s by a superhero. Especially if it’s by a superhero. Journalists are even worse, anyway…

“Relax, kid,” he laughs. “To tell you the truth, it was hard to miss but I’m sort of geared for that kind of thing, what with my choice in career.”

“Right.” You scan the Slurpee and take a drink of yours while he fiddles with some zipper in his suit. A deep red, with a purple tinge, a silver Flash symbol on his chest, and a cowl, but with the top free, showing off a shock of red hair, and his eyes still exposed. Pretty green.  

“But I do have an unfair advantage,” he goes on. “I see a similar look every time I have a League meeting.”

You blink. “The League…?”

“You should know. Your caped crusader, Batman. Of course, that’s also because he doesn’t like me—and the feeling is mutual, trust me—but, you know. Schematics. He sits right across from me and that’s all I get, this classic brand of Gothamite suspicion on top of the usual wordless Batman disapproval.”

“Should you be telling me that?”

He hands you a twenty. You pop open the register to break it. Another breeze hits and the empty cartons of hot dogs are shoved into the trash, with him eating the last one and on his way to finishing the large cup of cherry-flavored Slurpee. 

“I mean, what are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” you say lightly, calculating his change. “I could go to the press. Breaking News: Strife within the League. Tenuous relations between Batman and the Flash.”

“Oh, really?”

“That’s the press. A common dislike will absolutely turn into that in their headlines. They would take it and run.”

“That is true. You a journalist?” 

“Oh, no. Communications, with a concentration in public relations.”

Flash thinks on it for a second, finishing his hot dog, then the Slurpee. You partially expect him to get angry. It would be a justified reaction. He doesn’t know you and you don’t know him. You can admit that some of what you just said is a bit… imperious. Who are you to lecture him, right?

“You aren’t wrong,” he finally says, repeating his earlier words as the last hot dog carton and Slurpee cup disappear from the counter—thrown in the trash. 

“But,” he presses, accepting the change from you—a few dollars—then dropping it into your tip jar. “I know you aren’t going to take that to the press.”

“How’s that?” 

He points at you. “Because I don’t think you’re the kind of person to do that.”

“You’re appealing to my morals?”

“Yes. Is it working?”

“Not much work to be had,” you admit. “I was never going to. I was just…”

“Being nice and telling me I should watch what I say,” he finishes, grinning. “Which is true. All true. I just couldn’t help myself. What’s your name, kid?”

You tell him. He extends a hand.

“It’s nice to meet you. Welcome to Keystone City. Hope you enjoy your stay.”

A bit bemused, you nod politely and say, “Thanks.”

Before he can say anything else, he visibly tenses, lifting a hand to the Hermes-like wings at his ears, then, in the next blink, he is gone, off to stop someone or something, leaving you with a sharp gust of wind that rattles the windows and knocks the candy from the shelves under the counter onto the ground.

Well, then.

Talk about a first impression. 

reblogs are appreciated!

taglist: @peachesona @knoxx-seresinbradshaw @kikis-writing-service @sweetistic @soundsfunbutno @ginevraxrogers

[if you'd like to be added to the taglist (or removed), let me know here or in my inbox! ^_^]

#tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #dc comics imagine #tim drake imagine #red robin imagine #dc comics x reader #tim drake x you #red robin x you #tim drake x y/n #red robin x y/n #batfamily x reader #batfam x reader #batfam x you #batfam x y/n

[yaboiyandere]

Yandere Miguel O’Hara

Miguel’s POV

-Miguel decided to deal with some anomalies himself, pounding the weaker ones to a pulp helped him burn off some steam. He’d eviscerated about four until he was in your dimension. It was a rarer sight to see pirate ones, but he wasn’t in the mood to look into it. Just messing them up and sending them home.

-the city looked familiar, in a sense that he knew he’d never been there, but a part of him had. Maybe another version of him? Hopefully, he doesn’t run into him. he approaches the anomaly, the map indicating it’s at an elementary school.

-Ever since he tried replacing his murdered self in another universe, he’s felt empty. It’s not every day you see your daughter and spouse disappear into nothingness. It wasn’t even his family though, was it? After all, he didn’t remember meeting this version of you. He didn’t get to experience your first date, your wedding, or your daughter’s first day of school. He missed it all.

-Maybe it was for the best that he missed it all, considering what happened when he appeared. Maybe he’s just the worst version of himself. Maybe he’s not meant to be happy.

-he entered through the hole in the wall, seeing you trying and failing to wrangle the pirate Doc Ock. Just another spider-person. He quickly scratched at and bit the anomaly, causing paralysis. You fall to the floor, the tentacles sagging to the ground.

-he approaches you, pulling up his holo-watch to identify who you are. “I like your mask” you joke, as he approaches you. “Got one just like it at home”. He stifles a chuckle. He’s almost reached your profile when a little girl runs up to you and grips your leg. “Don’t hurt my (parent)! Please” she sobs. He freezes.

-he takes it all in. His screen fades away. Gabriella, his daughter, chokes out a couple of cries against your leg. Your hand protectively rests on her head. Who are you? And why are you keeping his daughter from him? And why does she look so scared of him?

-“…are you scared of me?” He asks. Gabriella nods. He can’t ignore your little nod. Speaking of you. “Who are you?” And what are you doing with his daughter? “Ah, that’s classified” you stammer. “Fine” he grumbles, pulling up his hologram with your profile. (Y/n) (L/n). Canon event, losing your late husband, Miguel O’Hara.

-He looks at your profile, the photo of your smiling face, and back at you. Even through the mask, your fear is evident. He presses a button to reveal his face. Your shock is palpable, as he introduces himself. “My name is Miguel O’Hara, and you probably already knew that.” He smiles, and hugs you. He wasn’t going to lose this, lose you again. It’ll be better this time, he’ll start over with you two, propose, attend Gabriella’s quinceanera, and maybe even make another kid!

-his eyes well up with tears of happiness as he bites your neck, paralyzing you. He hugs your limp body and calls out to your daughter. He hugs you two close. All is right in the world again. “Lyla, let’s bring these two home.” “Can do, boss” he quickly walks through the portal, still careful to not drop his precious cargo.

-it’s been three days, and Gabriella has adjusted well. His loft is much more spacious than the little apartment you two could barely afford. She also reveled in the attention she got from you since you were banned from serving justice. Speaking of you, you’ve been more difficult. Considering the world you left behind, he thought you would be more happy to leave! Constant crime leaves you with sleepless nights, a crummy job, and missing out on your daughter’s life! He’d make it so you don’t have to miss anything and even cut down his work hours to spend more time with his family.

-you’ve said some untrue things about him, and compared him to “your” Miguel, but he knows you just need to adjust. As he hugs you from behind, admiring your daughter’s cute drawing of your new family, and smiles into your neck.

#spider man: across the spider verse #miguel o’hara #yandere miguel x reader #yandere imagine #yandere miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel

[ghost-proofbaby]

if it were anyone else (e.m.)

warnings: strong allusions to depression, disordered eating/rough relationship with food, mentions of smoking, description of a sort of panic attack. very sad. hurt/comfort? not edited.

wc: 1.6k+

a/n: this is literally entirely self indulgent and written entirely after i sat and cried and thought "i wish i had eddie here right now to hold me". maybe in like thirty minutes tops. this is for me and only me. go figure lol. sorry. yeah. anyways.

if you relate, my askbox is always open, and i'm very sorry you've felt this way as well. i hope you all take care of yourselves. drink some water, call a friend. be kind to yourself.

“I’m worried about you.” 

Four words that always manage to strike a certain type of fear in your gut. You don’t know how to react as he says it, how he wants you to react. You can only stare blankly, you can only wish harder for the earth to swallow you whole.

“What do you mean?” you laugh nervously, following it with a hard swallow.

You’re playing dumb. You know it, he knows it. The tremor in your bones and your numb appendages know it, too. 

“You’re…” Eddie stalls, licking his lips, letting his eyes rake over you, “You’re getting bad again.” 

You’re quick to shake your head, forcing another hollow chuckle from your chest, “It’s not that bad. I’m fin-”

“You’re not fine.”

The look in his eyes could crack your spine if you stare too long. Wet eyes, a trembling bottom lip, worry lines etched into his forehead that you realize might be caused by you.

You’re causing him worry. The last thing you want to do, you’ve accomplished. You’re on a fast-track to becoming a burden – the first step is always acceptance. 

You’re still unsure of how he wants – no, needs you to react right now. This conversation is a landmine for both of you, and you hold every breath with every step as you try to navigate it. If you make one wrong step, it could cause an explosion that spares no survivors.

You don’t mind if it tears you apart limb by limb. You do mind if it hurts him. 

“How… How do you know that?” 

It’s not a sarcastic snipping or defensive deterrence. It’s an unfiltered response of genuineness – you want to know the signs, you want to know what has exposed the rot this time.

And then, maybe next time, you’ll be able to better shield it from him with this knowledge. 

“How could I not?” he takes a deep breath in through his nose, and you focus on the flare of his nostrils rather than any of the tears beginning to gather at his waterlines, “It’s been happening for a while now, though, hasn’t it?” 

Your throat is a cage, tight and restrictive and ringing with a bitter metallic taste in its tenseness. You can’t respond with words. You can only nod. 

He chooses to answer your question more properly now that you’ve admitted it, “You’re cold all the time again. You’re always sleeping too much or too little. You’re smoking again, running yourself into the ground. Picking up distractions like they’re going out of style.”

“Hey, they might be. We never know-” you cut yourself off when your eyes meet his. Now’s not the time for jokes, “Sorry. I… I know. I’m sorry.” 

He’s right. Fuck, he’s right. 

“I want to ask you something, and I need you to answer me honestly,” his own steps across these landmines are just as delicate, just as feathery light, as your own. You hear it in his tone, see it in his body language. You wish your body could sink into the mattress you’re sitting on the edge of as he crouches in front of you, warm palms connecting with your knees. Grounding you. Tethering you. Holding you back from that sinking you crave. “Are you… Sweetheart, are you okay?”

If anybody else had built up to such a stupid question, you would have laughed in their face. You would have shoved those warm palms right off of your skin and you would have thrown up those ice cold hands of your own, shouted obviously not. 

Obviously not. I’m not okay. I’m so far from okay, it’s a bit comical. I am drowning. I am treading in freezing cold waters and I am barely capable of keeping my head above the waves. My engine is fucked, my tank is empty. I don’t think I’d even know how to be ‘okay’ again if you did manage to pull this mangled body of mine from these depths and sat me down on safe, solid ground again. 

You can’t say any of this, though. Not because you don’t trust him, not because he would judge you. But because the moment he asks the question that should make you scoff, you let out a sob instead. Something like a muffled, broken wail that tears from deep within you. It had already been ready and poised, laying in wait for a perfect moment like this one to escape. 

His eyes aren’t the only glossy ones anymore. 

“I-” you start, breathing already stuttering and chest already constricting, “I- I-”

“Hey,” he palms smooth up your thighs, carrying their warmth with them, as if he were trying to spread it across you. As if he had heard your thoughts. As if he already knew all about those dark, treacherous, freezing waters you were stranded in. All you can do is spew out another cry, strangled as you tried to swallow it down before it entered the atmosphere between you two, “Hey.” 

You only notice the tears when you crumple forward and he meets you halfway. Those warm palms, those hands so capable of safety and promise, cup your cheeks and his thumbs make quick work of swiping away the salty streams. 

“Hey, baby, breathe for me,” his voice is tragically gentle, “Just one deep breath, okay?” 

To demonstrate, you watch his chest expand dramatically, his hands forcing you to keep your eyes on him. 

You can’t see through the bleariness. 

“C’mon, sweetness,” he encourages again, “One breath. Just one.” 

If it were anyone else, you’d turn into a fit of rage at the coddling. You’d break everything in sight. You’d scream until your already burning lungs finally collapsed as they’d been yearning to for so long. 

But it’s him. It’s just him, it’s just Eddie. 

His chest rises dramatically again, and this time, yours does as well, albeit through stifling hiccups. You’re dizzy from the lack of oxygen and the flood of emotion that was wrecking you. 

“There you go!” his voice rises ever so slightly, and when you flinch a bit at the sudden volume, he retracts, “Sorry, sorry. But that’s it, sweetheart. Another one, okay?” 

Another breath. Another sob. Another wave of all the pain you’ve been battling off. 

You’re cold all the time again. You’re always sleeping too much or too little. You’re smoking again, running yourself into the ground.

He was right and it fucking killed you. None of those are things you could ever shield him from. You didn’t have the heart to pull away those numb and icey fingertips every time he’d reach out for your hand, or try to cover the shivers that managed to rack your bones even in the middle of summer. The sleeping situation had been spiraling, a pendulum of sleepless nights that would end in a sleep so deep that you could have been mistaken for resting with the dead. Maybe the smoking you could have hid, especially when you’d been so boastful about quitting. 

You weren’t running yourself into the ground. You had already collapsed into the dirt, you had already joined the worms. You’d buried yourself alive, six feet under, and nothing could have stopped him from sniffing out that scent of decay on you. 

The death of a soul and mind. The death of the thing that had propelled you forward for so long. No amount of sweet perfume, or hour long scalding showers, or minty gum to occupy your mind rather than a proper meal, can erase that stench. 

You never could have shielded him. He always saw right through you. Always had, always would. 

“I’m sorry,” you end up crying out. 

You don’t know what you’re apologizing for, but you echo the words again. Over and over, on repeat, until he’s rising from the ground. Until he’s sat beside you. Until his arms are suddenly encasing you and you’re awarded a warmth you didn’t feel deserving of. 

He doesn’t smell like the decay you’d surrounded yourself with. He smells like slow waking in the morning, dreary and calm and at a reasonable time. He smells like warm baths that only relax your bones, and don’t have to blister your skin in the process. He smells like three meals a day, all comforting and all effortless and that never linger with a sense of regret.

He’s not decay, never even treading close to death. He’s home. He’s the promise that you could be okay. Even if it isn’t right now. 

“Don’t apologize,” he murmurs into the crown of your head, squeezing you tighter into his chest, not even blinking an eye at the patch of wetness you leave behind from where your cheeks bury against him, “Never apologize. Ever. Not with me, sweetheart. Keep the sorries. I don’t need them.” 

If it were anyone else, the holding would have suffocated you. But it’s him. It’s Eddie.

You don’t fight him when he pulls you fully into his lap, situating the two of you comfortably on that mattress. 

You don’t know how long you let him cradle you like that. How much of that time is spent filled with your cries, or how many breaths he gently urges you to take with him. He never once has to verbally say what you already know; he never once promises aloud that it’ll be okay. He doesn’t put that pressure on you, not yet. Not today. Not when he knows the journey to okay is still such a long one. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispers to you instead, “I’ve got you, now, sweetheart.” 

If it were anyone else, you wouldn’t believe them. 

But it’s him. It’s Eddie. 

And he’s got you, for now and for as long as you need.

#my writing #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson comfort #idk what this is #i hope it flops because fuck is it personal ! #i wrote very quickly and did not edit it lol #like my own personal diary entry or therapy session #bleh #very niche and doubt it's relatable lol #but i'm unwell and what good am i if i can't make content #if nothing else #i can create #still good for something maybe i don't know #at least something not awful can come from this storm

[stevenose]

mayhaps “character B telling character A how badly they want to press their face into their pillow and make them scream as the other is trying to work” and “eye fucking them all day” and its steve and reader on a slow day at family video

i went really insane w this (you’re welcome i fink)

contains: reader with a vagina; teeters on the edge of public exhibitionism; steve is horny and needy; lots of dirty talk; oral; like the tiniest little bit ass play; fingering

You’d rather Steve just talk instead of stare at you all day. You’re in close proximity, whether it’s behind the counter or putting things on shelves. And he just stares, with this glint in his eye that you’ve seen plenty of times before.

He’s horny.

You are, too, but it’s only because of how he’s been acting. Sliding close behind you, rubbing his cock on your ass while mumbling a “sorry” with a stupid grin; stretching tall so that you can see his happy trail; lifting heavy boxes so you can see his biceps. In other circumstances, you’d just laugh and roll your eyes, but it’s one of the slowest days you’ve ever had and boredom has turned into neediness.

You stand your ground, though. The last thing you need is to be fired. Steve doesn’t seem to care so much about it, and one of you has to. He’s getting more and more restless, resorting to touching you, placing a large hand on your hip and squeezing, trying to sneak you off to the back room.

“Steve,” you groan, “we have to catalogue these.”

He makes a noise of annoyance and scoots away from you for about a minute before coming back, pressing himself up against you until you’re trapped between his broad chest and the counter.

“Just wanna hear you scream, baby,” he mumbles into your ear. “Wanna press your pretty little face into my pillows and fuck you til you’re sore.”

“Jesus Christ, Steve,” you breathe, completely distracted. His soft lips are hot on your neck as they kiss around, hands moving up your torso, pulling your shirt up with it. You almost give in, letting your eyes fall shut for a moment before pulling your shirt down and groaning. “We’re at work!”

“Okay?” he says, pouting when you twist your neck to look at him. “What law says I can’t fuck you here?”

“Public indecency?”

“Where’s the public? I don’t see anyone.”

You roll your eyes and freeze up when Steve’s hands travel down to the button of your jeans, hovering. “How about you keep watch and I make you feel good? Huh?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. It’s truly been hours since someone came in, and the weather isn’t all that great. But that only makes you think someone will come in any second. And you’re not entirely sure you’ll be able to stop Steve if someone did walk in - once you start with Steve, you literally have to finish. He’s that good.

“Fine,” you whisper. “But crouch behind the counter, okay? I don’t want anyone to see you.”

He’s giddy, giggling and kissing your cheek before dropping to his knees and pulling your pants down to your ankles, underwear along with it. “Keep up the good work, baby. I’m gonna work on what I’m good at, okay?”

You don’t have a chance to rebuke his joke. Steve’s fingers run up along your folds and he gasps. “Oh, honey, you’re so wet. Who did this to you?”

You swallow hard, trying to focus on the VHS beside you. “You did, Steve.”

“Think she must’ve missed me, huh? And you wouldn’t even let her see me.” He tsks, presses a kiss to your ass before slowly sliding his middle finger into you. You gasp, spreading your legs a little wider for him, and he smiles against your skin. “Missed her, too. My cock misses her. Just wanna be buried in this gorgeous little cunt til you can’t take it anymore.”

“Thought - I thought y-you wanted me to scream - to scream for you?”

“Same thing, isn’t it?” He presses a playful bite to your ass as his finger slowly slides in and out of you. “You’re such a slut, you know. Letting me touch you like this where everyone can see. You want everyone to know you’re mine, huh?”

It doesn’t matter if it was his idea or not - you’re incredibly turned on, pushing your ass back in a quiet ask for more fingers. He gives it to you, sliding another one inside, curling them just right. You moan and bite your lip, much to Steve’s dismay. “Come on, honey, let me hear you. Can’t see that pretty face, least you can do is make some noise for me.”

“Steve,” you whisper, gripping the counter. “Really wish you could fuck me.”

“I tried. Remember? Not actin’ so shy now, are you? Least if we get fired we’d have all the time in the world to fuck. That sounds like a dream, doesn’t it?”

You clench around his fingers. “Really want that.”

“Yeah? You do? Then how about I fuck you over the counter top, huh? Make sure everyone can see your tight little pussy takin’ my cock, make sure the cameras can see, too. Show ‘em what you’d rather be doin’.”

And then his mouth is on you, licking from his fingers all the way back to your ass, and you’re completely done for. Keith could walk in, your mom could walk in, the fucking President could walk in - and you’d still be grinding on Steve’s face, whining his name, soaking him while he calls you his pretty little slut and devours you.

You throw your head back and chant for him, one hand gripping his hair and the other playing with your swollen clit.

“You’ve gotta let me fuck your ass,” he says hoarsely, pulling back and slipping a third finger into you. “It’s so fuckin’ tight, sweetheart, wanna see it gripping my dick.”

“Oh my god - whatever you want -“

“You’re so easy,” he teases, but his voice is strained. “Come on, wanna taste you when you cum - you’re so sweet, baby, can’t believe you’d hide this from me all day.”

Your forehead rests on the screen of the computer as you cum, Steve’s mouth enveloping your folds and groaning as he tastes your release. He keeps an arm around your waist to steady you, but still fucks you through your orgasm until you’re shaking from the stimulation. He presses one last kiss to your ass before pulling your underwear and pants up, beaming proudly.

“And no one even walked in,” he says, almost right as the bell rings above the door and some usual Hawkins mom strides in. You can hear his breath catch in his throat - he’s still got your release on his lips and his fingers are all soaked and his cock, already hardly confined by his Levis, is practically making the seams burst.

“Got them?” you ask, smiling wickedly as you head towards the bathroom to clean up.

#stevenose posts #ns/fw #steve harrington smut #steve x reader

[frostironfudge]

I Really, Really Want To Kiss You - Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Personal Trainer!Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Fem Reader, Modern AU.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swear words, making out, allusions to body dysmorphia, a male oc being mean to the reader based on her appearance, protective bucky, mutual pining, sam has the braincell, weight loss mentioned, some not so good thoughts about herself by the reader, bucky fell first its canon for this au.

Word Count: 2.6k || Dividers: @firefly-graphics

A.N: i've been meaning to write personal trainer bucky for a while and i might make this multiple parts (maybe 1-2 parts more) but i'm not sure about it, let me know what you think! also if i expand then that may include smut.

masterlist // Ao3

Heartbeat thunderous in your ears. Breath borderline panting. Then you see him, your step falters. Your hands grab the handle bar trying to right yourself. 

Bucky’s hand shoots out to stabilise you and press the stop button on the treadmill. 

Your eyes shift from the man to Bucky. He frowns at you. 

“Where is your focus?” He worriedly tuns his gaze over you. 

“I’m okay…” You murmur, heat creeping to your cheeks. 

“You sure? I know we’re trying interval running for the first time—,”

“Sir—Bucky,” you correct yourself before he can tell you off again, “I’m okay.” You press on, the heat of his palm against your lower back grounds you more than it should. 

Blue eyes give you a once over, “Okay, how about we try again?” 

He smiles when you nod, you will your heart and mind to focus. When Bucky got assigned as your personal trainer you wanted the ground to swallow you up. 

He’s tall, beefy, with a charming smile and eyes so blue you would tie dumbbells to your feet to drown into, well maybe not that literally but controlling your feelings for him for the past three months had been difficult. 

Every-time he smiled at you, your heart would stop, every repetition he demonstrated you swear your mouth watered with drool brimming past your lips. Then when he joked around and eased your nerves over the whole ordeal to loose weight that that is what set your heart soaring. 

Bucky was sweet, encouraging, the praise for him just never stopped. Everyone at the gym adored him, even if you were mid session and anyone required help he’d look to you if it was okay. He’d jog over help them and return to you. 

He taught you to look at your journey  from the point of view of getting healthier for yourself. Reminding you that the scale is just a number. 

Just like the age gap between the two of you, fourteen years who cares? You definitely don’t, not one damn bit. 

“Ready?” His voice brings you back into the present. You nod. 

“Alright, thirty second intervals, speed at 6.5, and we’ll start at a speed of 3 for thirty seconds then switch higher.” Bucky watches for any signs of confusion on your face, you give him nothing to worry about, he gives you his beaming smile. 

Blame the heat on your cheeks on the workout. 

Blame the heat on your cheeks on the workout. 

Blame the heat on your cheeks on the workout. 

Blame the heat on your cheeks on the work—

Then he passes by again, your gym crush, Bucky had been deemed by your best-friends as your Gym Love. 

You watch through the mirror discreetly as the guy-gym crush-because you’re too anxious to even ask his name or approach him. Runs his hand through his hair and you panic when the floor beneath you moves. 

Oh, you’re on the treadmill right. You begin taking the steps, Bucky adjusts the speed to three. 

“What has you distracted? Is everything okay?” He questions and you will yourself not to look at gym crush but your damn eyes betray you because he’s deadlifting and you can hear him groan and why is the speed increasing?

Shit you will yourself to catch up. Bucky follows your gaze to the guy. Then he scoffs calculating the weight the guy is lifting. 

“Not impressive.” He mutters, attention back at you, “Alright there, Doll?”

“Mmhmmm.” You’re on the verge of beginning to pant and he lowers the speed. That damned nickname sends your heart into over drive.

You slow down to a walk catching your breath. 

“How was that?” You question trying to deflect.

“Good, you’re keeping focus.” Bucky murmurs, its stupid he knows being a little petty that you’re stealing glances of someone else. 

“Sorry, I um,” you begin, 

“No don’t apologise, Doll, ready for the next interval?” His eyes meet yours and god he just wants to lean over and kiss you senseless. 

“Yeah, I am.” You grin at him, Bucky increases the speed again. Watching your feet to see if you need any pointers on foot posture and landing. 

This goes on for another fifteen minutes before he gives you a break. When you get down from the treadmill you have to look up at Bucky again because he’s tall. So damned tall he towers over you. You’d be lying if you didn’t want him to lift you up and—, god why does working out turn your brain into a horny mess? 

“Go sit down, drink water, I’ll be back in two minutes okay?” Bucky watches you nod at his words your breath still fast, chest rising and falling, he swallows quickly heading to the main desk where Sam is stationed. 

You make your way to the bench grabbing your water. Involuntarily your eyes scan over the gym, trying to locate your crush. 

Tugging at your t-shirt. To stop it from highlighting your rolls, you sit up straighter as he passes by, heading to the machines. You drink water, then look down at your shoes then towards the area. 

Very fucking discreet, you tell yourself. 

He pays you no mind, focused on his workout. Then he looks your way you look ahead, trying not to make it obvious being caught staring. 

Bucky sighs, Sam shakes his head. 

“Just tell her.” He taps the keyboard, switching playlists. 

“She already has a crush on dudebro deadlifts double digits.” Bucky grimaces, its been three months being your personal trainer, he wanted more, much more. 

Everything about you pulled him in, the way you smile whenever greeting any of the staff, to your jokes during the sessions. The way you would light up when you made progress in your strength. 

God he remembers your scent lingering upon him after hours of you jumping into his arms when you broke your own deadlift personal record. 

Your warmth engulfing him, your skin so soft and pretty he just wanted to sink his teeth and mark you as his own, he could even hear you saying his name over and over.

“Bucky.” Your palm on his hand brings him back into the present. His brows furrow. Thank god for the desk. 

“Y-yeah Doll?” He clears his throat. Sam chortles covering it with a cough, Bucky throws him a glare, then gazes back at you. 

“You alright? It was around ten minutes I got worried…” You bite your lip. Bucky’s gaze falls to them, his tongue peeks out wetting his own bottom lip. 

Your eyes follow the movement, you swallow. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Sam threw paperwork on my head. I’ll walk in with you. You feel up for doing abs or have I worn you out?” He wiggles his brows. 

You giggle, “It takes a lot more than an interval training to wear me out.” 

“Are you challenging me, Doll?” His lips curve up into a smirk. 

Your core pulses at the innuendos being exchanged. 

“Maybe.” You shrug, looking away to breathe. 

Bucky chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Come on, three variations with two sets of twenty reps, I’ll go easy on ya.” He winks when you look back up at him.  

“When have you ever gone easy on me?” You feign surprise. 

“You’d know when I get rougher, Doll.” Bucky pipes back. 

Sam coughs in warning. Bucky purses his lips, thinking of thoughts that should help rid of his hidden predicament. 

Your fingers intertwine out of nervousness. Licking your lips, “I’ll wait in the studio?” 

“Yeah be there in a second.” He promises as you trace the path back. 

“Just ask her. You’re both practically eye fucking the other.” Sam waves a hand gesturing between Bucky and where you were standing. 

“She’s not interested in me—,” Bucky’s brows furrow pondering over the conversation, “do you think?”

“Man go ask her out before I throw you in the morning shift.” Sam warns as Bucky finds his way to you. 

You’re in the studio, sitting crossed legged on the floor. Fiddling with the corner of the mat. 

“Hey.” Bucky smiles when you grin at him, “Hey.” 

“So I was thinking I’d do the reps with you.” He moves to grab a mat for himself.  

“Won’t that be too slow for you?” You blink up at him. 

“Nope.” He sits on the mat, “Now, first classic crunch, ready?” 

You nod getting into position as does he, “Ready and go.” 

How Bucky is able to keep the counts and do the reps is beyond you. 

He’s staying true to his word in tandem with your movements. 

You have to will yourself to do the reps instead of watching him. The way his hair begins to fall on his forehead and without breaking his movement he shakes it away.

Beads of sweat line your forehead and you grunt laying back covering your face with your palms just as Bucky gives the last call for the rep. That last set took a lot of energy out of you. 

“Hey Doll,” Bucky leans over, you move your hands to look up at him. 

“Yeah Bucky?” breathing is still hard even more so with those azure eyes gazing down at you. 

“You okay?” He checks in, gaze tracing over you.

You nod, “Just need to catch my breath—,”

The door to the studio slams open, Bucky looks up. You sit up, gym crush stands there looking at Bucky. 

“Yes?” He questions the dudebro. 

“You’re a trainer right? I need a spotter, the dude on the front desk is with a client showing the gym. You’re the only other free trainer.” He says, Bucky raises a brow looking towards you. 

“I’m with a client.” He gestures with his palm. 

You offer a smile, “Its okay…”

Bucky scoffs when the idiot doesn’t even thank you. Just gestures to the training area for him to follow.

“Mannerless.” He comments, you frown.

Bucky wants to roll his eyes, of course you wouldn’t like anything bad said about your whatever the idiot is to you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” You ask hopeful, even though its your day for cardio having Bucky there makes it better cause he alway made funny faces through the mirror while passing by. You did the same to him just a little more discreet if he was with a client.

“Oh I have to go help a friend move so I might not be there when you usually come in… you can do your usually routine, elliptical, treadmill, cycling or jump rope’s cool too.” He helps you up not letting go of your hand even as you both are standing.

You like that, holding Bucky’s hand. He might not like it though so you look down and he blushes moving his hand away, if though he really didn’t want to do so.

“I’ll see you day after then?” You offer, he nods.

“See you, Doll.” Bucky smiles when he spots you smiling shyly at the nickname.

The next day at the gym you feel Bucky’s absence. Usually he’s smiling, greeting you or making a joke. Checking in upon your diet and how you’re doing mentally. He always made sure to know about your headspace.

You’re getting down from the treadmill making way to the water station. That is when gym crush walks in, you make eye contact while filling your bottle, in a moment of boldness. You offer him a smile. 

He stares at you with his dark eyes, then his face morphs into a disgusted grimace. You look back to your water bottle, moving away rushing over to the locker room.

You can’t get his expression out of your head, the mirrors in the room turn sinister, you cover your face, heading into one of the stalls.

Resting your forehead against the door, trying to quiet your breathing and tears. Your weight didn’t please any man who held your romantic admirations, it was always a factor and despite the hard-work done these past few months it seemed as if this was to waste as well. 

“Fuck.” You mutter, trying to find the positives over the past few months. Everything Bucky has done for you, taught you, you sniffle. It doesn’t work. Not even the mental footage of him doing dumbbell floor presses helps to distract your mind.

Wiping your eyes you grab your bag from the locker, heading out, not bothering to look at anyone. 

As luck would have it you collide into someone, palms engulf your arms, steadying you. His cedar and patchouli scent surrounds you. Bucky.

“Doll.” Is all he says, you don’t look up at him.

You try to keep the sniffle down, but the stupid sound blubbers out. Immediately his calloused hands grasp your face, making you look up into his eyes. 

“Who did this?” Bucky’s eyes scan over the gym floor.

His gaze settles on dudebro, his jaw clenches and eyes narrow.

“Bucky, no one—,” You attempt to defuse the situation.

“Don’t lie to me, Doll.” He warns, one hand leaves your cheek, wrapping around your wrist, he pulls you into the private office.

“You’re going to tell me the truth.” Bucky demands.

“There isn’t anything to say—,”

“That’s it.” He moves without warning, grasping your hips and you’re lifted up, and settled onto the desk, your legs parted to have him stand between them chest to chest.

You’re out of breath without having moved a muscle. 

“Bucky?” Is all you can muster out, he grasps your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head back only slightly.

“Doll, you’re crying and its not the happy tears I’ve seen you shed and wiped away. Now please, please tell me what happened.” He requests, all the earlier range he harboured gone but not forgotten.

“I,” Your chest tightens and your eyes close, as though it would erase it all away. 

“Take your time, Doll.” He encourages, thumb tracing over your jaw.

You gaze into his eyes, the warm comfort in them beckoning you close, “You might think it’s stupid.” you warn.

“Try me.” He shrugs, giving a soft smile.

You swallow and then spill the entirety of the event.

“He grimaced at you?” Bucky confirms, you nod.

“I’m going to kill him.” He begins to pull away and you instinctively wrap your legs around him to stop him.

“Doll—,”

“I’m so sorry—,”

“No fuck, I’ve thought of this so many times…” Bucky trails off.

“You, you have?” Your eyes widen, as he nods again.

“You don’t know what you’ve done to me, all I can think about is you. Every sense of mine attitude to you.” He rests his forehead against yours, you close your eyes.

“I’ve thought about you too.” Your quiet admission has him smile.

“What have you thought about?” His curiosity getting the better of him.

“How your arms feel around him, how would it be to see you outside of here… to, to have you lift me up like—,” You squeal when he lifts you again, your legs wrapped around his waist, hands on his shoulders, Bucky grins mischievously.

You’re pressed against the wall and him.

“Like this?” He questions, breathless, eyes shifting between your lips and gaze.

“Yes.” the words a breathless whisper.

“Doll I really, really want to kiss you.” He admits, you raise your palm to cup his cheek, shifting your head towards him.

Bucky’s breath fans across your face, his lips are slightly chapped but soft, warm and oh so sinful. The kiss is bruising, he completely dominates and you allow him to, his tongue exploring your mouth and he sucks upon your bottom lip.

You tug on his lip as he pulls away, Bucky audibly groans. 

“You’re so beautiful, so magnificent. And you taste so addicting.” Bucky rests his forehead against yours again, this time both of you stare into each other’s eyes.

You can’t keep the grin off of your face nor can he, “So does this mean I can take you out to dinner?” He requests.

“Yeah, yeah you can.” You answer smiling, his lips meet yours again.

permanent bucky tag: @slutforsexyseabass

permanent tags: @stevesmewmew @pandaxnienke

#personal trainer bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #james buchanan barnes #bucky x plus size reader #bucky x female reader #buck barnes fic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fluff #james barnes x you #bucky fluff #sebastian stan #bucky x yn #the winter soldier x you #frostironfudge #bucky barnes x plus size reader #james buchanan barnes x you #white wolf #bucky barnes angst #bucky is the best #james bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky fanfic #modern bucky barnes #modern au #marvel #bucky x y/n #bucky fic

[bonchobrick]

(angst alert !! death + slight blood tw !!)

Tim is stuck in a sticky situation and has to call a certain 'spooky' friend for help.

Jason would probably call him a dumbass for trying to do something so stupid. Well, atleast thats what Tim thinks Jason would do, he isn't for sure though, he isn't certain.

Because Jason's laying on the ground with a flat pulse and he wont be giving him any answers anytime soon.

---

“Don' look so weird replacement, its just anoth’r day in gotham.” His brother slurs with the slight quirk of his lips

"Jason don't fucking do this to me!" Tim hisses tears cursing his eyes

And Jason, oh that bastard—bleeding out on the pavement and in Tim’s arms sends him his classic beaming Robin Smile. 

"Love ya' little bro take care of yo'rself, kay?" he says eyes fluttering

"Jay," Tim cries, "You dick."

For all the joy and hope and belief his smile conveyed for the first time in a long time—his red blood muddled what should’ve been such a nice sight. Tim held him on the pavement with someone yelling on the comm mic on the floor that he just can’t bother trying to pay attention to. 

The pavement is cold. The air is cold. His brother is cold. It’s all so cold tonight. 

All the younger boy does close his eyes and slowly, In. Out. In. Out.

He lets himself breathe for a minute. Lets the horror wash over him. Lets himself absorb what just happened,

Then he gets back to work. 

Like a switch his brain is back online running at a hundred miles an hour–what is the best scenario, what should I do when my brother's wrist is limp and his eyes are shut, what do I do if he’s dead again, what can i do, how can I Fix. This.

Thoughts cloud his mind, whirring around his head like layers and layers of messy documents has just been dumped on his desk and he’s shuffling through them panicked trying to find the right file because its somewhere here, there is something and he just needs to sort. it. out. And–

Then it all becomes clear. 

His desk is back to clean and stationary. All of the papers are gone back into neat piles in neat manila folders, stored away in tidy filing shelves–

Everything is gone aside from one little yellow sticky note in the center of the desk.

“Well, Jay?” Tim chuckles with a cracked voice, “Second times the charm right?”

In his mind, at the center of it all, on a yellow sticky note lies the words in green ink: ‘Contact The Ghost King.’

Slowly he shifts and with a loud grunt he lifts up Jason, “Up we go!”

“--im? Why do you have Red Hood’s Comm–Tim what happened! Tim!” the comm speaker plays faintly in the background of his head, “Tim! Whatever you’re thinking off doing, don’t!” someone Tim can’t think about hisses

Tim hums absentmindedly towards the mic, almost automatically, “Don’t worry Babs, I’ve got it covered.”

Walking away from the roof he thinks to himself, I wonder where Jason would wanna wake up? Perhaps his apartment? Yea, i think that would go well by him–let’s head to the apartment.  

And just like that Tim leaves a crime scene—shuffling away with a dead body over his shoulder and a plan.

“Jay,” Tim murmurs to the corpse on his shoulder, “You’re really gonna hate this, but i’m doing this for you anyways cause I love you. So dont be too hard on me when you wake up okay asshole?”

Tim stumbles off into the stairwell making his descent and sometime as he walks away Barbara faintly catches him on the comm saying

“-Your gonna love Danny and making your lame 'im a dead guy' jokes with him man .”

#(Aka i wanted to write brothers jason and tim fic featuring Danny as the resident unemployed friend) #tim hates jason #he loves jason #siblings r silly like that #tim through sobs: *sniffles* im a bad bitch ive got work to do #what follows is tim pleading with the most heartfelt words for him to bring jason back and danny is like lol okay #was this all made to reference that one line in robin 1993 annual 7 #yes. yes it was. #ill add the comic panel soon bc oo that line mmmm #girl dinner #danny doesn't control life or death. but! #tim: please bring my brother back i know that is such a hard request to ask you but-- #danny making grilled cheese: not really hes supposed to be alive anyways dude no biggie #tim whose been begging and sharing his whole life story on the floor for the past 30 minutes: what #this is a fic in which tim spends another absurd amount of time bringing back a 'dead' relative (jason is dead but like tim's like no) #and danny is just with him the whole time hanging out and showing him wild shit as the helps revive him #dc x dp #dp x dc #jason todd #tim drake #danny is a little shit #danny phantom #there are so many tags #i swear i write more story in here than in the actual post... #angst #sorry #its literally kinda cracky though #just a bit more 'character analysis-y' than i usually share w u guys #kinda funny how this is dc x dp but danny is just like only hinted in this scene (he is literally in every other scene) #OH BY THE WAY ITS BEEN AWHILE hi

[b0r3dtod3ath]

No brakes, part 1

Summary: Every time Y/N has been featured in a “No Brakes” episode (1,2,4,5)

F1 Masterlist 

Word count: 1.25k I think

Warnings (also mentioned before every paragraph): Mentions of working out; a sex joke; mentions of body dysmorphia

Ep. 1 

Daniel had a few weeks in between races and he decided to take you on a trip to Austria. He has been there many times and he wanted you to know how beautiful this country is. The trip was full of bike rides, hiking, and eating schnitzels. After a few days of vacation Daniel started recording a Youtube series called “No brakes”.

You decided to go for a hike. After an hour of climbing a semi-tall mountain you were greeted with an amazing view. You wanted to take a closer look at how high above the ground you actually were. You were about to get closer to the edge when you felt a pair of hands grabbing you “Please be careful. If you were to fall I would jump”. The strong need to keep you safe would often result in Daniel shouting at people. He’s not an irascible person but when it comes to you he has no limits. 

“We are gonna scare them. We’re doing something really cool.” All the camera could see was a smiling face hidden in the bush. You were going down at your own pace, careful not to slip, so you were a bit behind most of the group. It was around noon, green trees hid you from direct sunlight allowing a slight breeze to pass through. As you walked down a small path a group of four people jumped from the bushes. After a short mini heart attack you started dying of laughter causing everyone to laugh too. 

“You want to go up the mountain in the evening and watch the sunset? A few locals said it was really good.” Daniel lowered his voice a bit as you were sitting at a table, eating lunch with a bunch of other guys and his offer was to you only. A lot of the time you were surrounded by other people but he always made sure you two could have a moment alone during the day. He is a busy guy but he always tries to find some quality time for his lover. Whether it’s 15 minutes in his driver’s room before a race or a full evening after a race week. He likes to make sure that he is not distracted, so he would mute his phone and focus on you. 

As you were climbing the mountain, Danny was humming a song that has been stuck in his head for the past few days. At this point you could probably recite the full lyric because you have heard it so many times. “I’m glad you like it here.” says Daniel “Yea, we should come here more often. I think you should rest more, overall.” You were always scared of Daniel overworking himself. You knew being a driver was a hard job and you didn’t want him to feel burned out. You were always there for him. Always gave as much space as he wanted, always gave a shoulder to cry on after a terrible race. You two always cared for each other. 

Ep. 2 (tw: mentions of working out, a sex joke)

Next video featured preparing for the race in Monaco. Daniel was just about to leave the place you were staying in. “I’m going to do a quick workout.” he says, grabbing your waist and kissing your cheek. He always did it before he left. “Oh! By the way, I’m gonna go for a run. I just feel like doing a quick cardio, I don’t know. I just feel this energy.” His lips form the characteristic smile “I thought we were going to do cardio tonight”. He squeezes your hip as you respond “Don’t get your hopes up, Ricciardo. Now go, Michael is probably waiting.” Daniel only moves closer to kiss you. His hands on his hips - trying to convince you that his trainer can wait. You suddenly pull back “Go!”. “Okay, okay. Don’t forget your phone when you go out! I love you.” he laughed. You always had each other’s location shared. He wasn’t controlling you by any means, he just wanted to know you’re safe when you are not with him.

Ep. 4 (singer!reader; solange lyrics; tw: mentions of body dysmorphia) 

You always wanted Daniel to be on your album, even before you two started dating. He always pushed it off saying that he isn’t a good singer but you would find ways to feature him in other ways. You wanted him to read one of the sentences that really got stuck in your mind. He said it one night when you weren’t feeling the best in your body. He knew something was off but he didn’t want to push you. He noticed a pattern when your self confidence was a bit low. Little things that you didn’t pay attention to but he used to read you like an open book. He would always make sure to treat you even better than usual. He would treat you like a literal goddess. He would run you a bath, wash your hair, shower you with kisses constantly reminding you of how beautiful you were.

 It was just gonna be a half a minute interlude. His voice would be a bit edited so it would sound more dreamy. “Ok, so you go in there and you just read this.” You said giving him a piece of paper and pointing at a recording booth. He didn’t really look at the paper until the mic was recording. You gave him a thumbs up and he started to read “Do you realize how magnificent you are? The god that created you is a divine architect. That created the moon, the sun, the stars, Jupiter, Mars, Pluto, Venus. You are the walking embodiment of god consciousness.” As soon as he realized these are the words that he said he instantly started smiling. You did a couple of takes in case and told him to come back. “Aw! I didn’t know you remembered what I said that night!” he pulled you into a hug. He got a bit emotional to be honest. “Are you kidding me? That was the most beautiful thing you have ever came up with. You are gonna get credit for that. A beautiful “Daniel Ricciardo” written in the writers’ rubric.”.

Ep. 5

Daniel loved to impress you by doing donuts. He was about to park when an idea popped in his mind- he could get some extra footage as well as impress you. You were looking at your phone as you felt the car moving unusually, you knew what was going on. You turned to face your boyfriend and gave him a look that told more than words. He started laughing as he saw you in the corner of his eye.

You were supposed to meet Jenson and watch him and Daniel drive go karts. “You sure you don’t want to try? I can teach you.” says Daniel as he is done changing into his racing suit “Nah, I’m good. Don’t worry” you say. Danny always wanted to involve you in everything but you didn’t want to be stuck to him if that makes sense. You would show up to his races and support him but you weren’t really the first one to be on camera. He always respected that but didn’t want you to feel left out.

#writers on tumblr #fan fic writing #x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo blurbs #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #formula 1 x reader

[blumeblooms]

- > speak up ! || five - flower in forgiveness

toge inumaki x reader

—————————————————————————————————————

‘Okay, everything will be fine. This is good right?’ You think as you look at your masterpiece. You bought cough drops like Yuuji suggested, but since he apparently likes flowers so much, you put the ‘petals’ made of cough drops, and leaves made of tissues. You thought it was pretty thoughtful, and maybe it was too much, but it was already finished anyways. All you had to do now was give it to him.

Right… giving it to him. God, you were so nervous, i mean come on, pull yourself together! He’s just a teenage boy, are you really getting this worked up over a teenage boy? Yes. Yes you were

With a deep breath you place it carefully in your bag before heading to training grounds, the cool air hitting your face as a slight reality check, but it was nice.

“Morning Kugisaki” You greet with a smile, offering a wave as she grins at you.

“Y/n! Morningggg, let’s go shopping after practice. You don’t have a choice by the way” Nobara smiles cheekily, and it’s almost threatening as you feel a chill go down your back.

“Sure i’ll go, thanks for giving me a choice though.” You say sarcastically with a smile as you roll your eyes. Eyes glancing over to the boy you’ve been avoiding like the plague. He effortlessly slid on his knees to dodge Yuutas attack, kicking his ankle swiftly and knocking him down. Damn, he moved effortlessly, yet was efficient in his fighting. This was your first time really getting a good look at him, he was pretty, you won’t lie.

“Careful, you’re staring like a dog waiting for its treat.” Megumi says as he walks up beside you. Making you yelp as you glare at him, why did this man bully you.

“What like how you stare at Yuuji?? I’ve known you for like 4 days and i already know you’re a giant fruit cup dude. No straight man has 500+ wins on word hunt.” You retort back, trying not to laugh at your own joke. But seriously, who does that??

“……..” “With this sacred treasure i summ-“

“CHILL CHILL CHILL I WAS KIDDING PLEASE”

“DUDE ARE YOU TRYING TO TAKE US ALL OUT?? GO TO THERAPY INSTEAD.” Nobara screams as she smacks Megumi. You nervously laugh as your life just flashed before your eyes. Were all sorcerers crazy?? Well, they were. Did that mean you were crazy too? Whatever, you could unpack that later.

“Sooo, did you get the cough drops? You should give it to him before he goes back inside and you get too scared to do it” Nobara says as she smacks your back, rather hard as it feels more hurtful than encouragement as you wince. You hate that she’s right, you’ve been putting it off but you only live once right? You could do this.

“Ugh… Fine. But you’re paying for lunch later.’ You say with a deep sigh as you grab your bag and hesitantly make your way over towards Yuuta and Inumaki, ignoring Nobara’s ‘What the hell?!” In the background.

Your heart starts to beat faster as you get closer. Why were you so nervous?? It was literally fine. One and done. One and done.

You watch as Yuuta notices you while taking a sip of his water and catching his breath, tapping Toge on the shoulder as he looks over confused. His eyes widen as he sees you coming over, looking at Yuuta and then back to you as you hesitantly wave him over. He walks over just as hesitant, wondering what you want.

“Uhm.. I’d like to apologize for yelling at you. I didn’t mean to cause a scene there was just a lot going on that day- which is no excuse but uhm. I heard that you use cough drops a lot so i made this- I hope you like it.” You say trying not to have your voice waver, pulling the ‘flowers’ from your bag as you hold it out in offering. There, you did it, now he’ll take it, or won’t, and then you’ll have a truce.

You watch his reaction carefully as his eyes widen at the gift in your hand. You can’t help but feel a little anxious as he stands there staring at it for a minute.

He holds up a finger in a ‘wait’ motion as he runs over to his bag before pulling out flowers in a pot and coming back quickly, slighting panting.

‘Do you know sign language?’ He signs slightly messily while holding the pot in his arms. Thankfully, you did.

“I do, you can use it” You reply with a slight smile, gesturing for him to continue. He nods before signing again.

‘I bought these yesterday at the same flower shop. I hope you like them. Sorry for accidentally stealing, i didn’t know. Gojo sucks.’ He says as you feel your eyes soften. He brought them too? They were really gorgeous. Honestly, you didn’t even know the shop had those in stock

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that! Thank you. It’s okay, i’ve only known Gojo for about a week now and i can confirm he does suck.” You say slightly playful with a laugh, grateful this was going well. You hear Inumaki softly laugh too.

He goes to hand you the flowers just as you hand him his. The flower pot accidentally falls to the ground, shattering as your eyes widen, he looks mortified as you can see his ears and face heat up.

‘Oh my god. Sorry sorry sorry-‘ He signs frantically as you both go to pick it up, hitting heads in the process. You letting out an “Ow!” as you hear a soft grunt. You can hear Yuujis mortified scream in the back as you wonder why the universe was constantly against you.

“S-sorry! I should’ve been more careful, um. It’s okay! Thank you anyways!” You say as you can feel your own face heating up, which is probably no where near as bad as Inumakis right now. He looks like he’s practically seen a ghost. Which you would probably find amusing if you weren’t equally mortified right now.

You hand him the cough drop flowers as you wave with a frantic smile before scurrying off towards Nobara. Her laughing as Megumi deadpans with a face palm. You making horrified faces at them as you drag them away.

Toge stands there before slowly turning to Yuuta, his face drained of color as Yuuta bursts out laughing, coming over to pat him on the back as he stares at the broken flower pot.

————————————————————————

‘Huh? What is this?’ You think to yourself as you pick up the flowers off the floor in front of your dorm. They were so pretty! You read the small note attached to it, reading: ‘Sorry again… I picked these from the school garden i take care of instead, these are my favorites. Hopefully they’re yours too. Atleast we have matching red marks on our head now :) - Inumaki’

You snort when you finish reading it. The awkwardness from earlier events fading away as you smile and place the flowers on your nightstand, walking in your dorm.

‘Dumbass’ You think to yourself with a smile as you go on twitter.

————————————————————————

previous || masterlist || next

- > they’ll never catch a break

- > megumi trying to summon things every single inconvenience.

- > thank you for all the love 😋💓💓

• summary - in where you meet a nice lady in a flower shop you volunteer at, just to find out you can defeat curses when you thought you were just hallucinating. you transfer to jujutsu high, and you see a guy with his face covered who tried to steal flowers the other day! you confront him and he stays silent, so you tell him to speak up, only for him to say… onigiri ingredients? whether you just quit or go on with this new lifestyle- well, that’s for fate to decide.

- > taglist - @jayathelostdragon , @lees-chaotic-brain , @camilo-uwu , @knmakzmee , @kasumitenbaz , @aespaforlifersyall , @gyuville

[kiibichio]

STATE FAIR ❤︎ C. STURNIOLO

OVERVIEW ;; you and chris go to the state fair for a date <3

CONTAINS ;; fluffy fluff fluff. use of y/n, im sorry 😭. smoochies, holding hands, MUSHY SHIT

mora speaks ;; so i was watching the 3005 mv by childish gambino and thought about being on a ferris wheel, holding hands and kissing chris. UGH i love that man.

date posted ;; 02.18.24

proofread !!

——————————————————————————————

6:26 pm.

“c’mon y/n! we only have a few hours let’s make it worth our while!” chris exclaims, dragging me in the direction of the bumper cars.

me and my boyfriend of 5 months, chris, were at the california state fair with our friend, madi and his brothers, nick and matt. we had been begging matt to take us, but every time we brought it up, our schedules just wouldn’t match up. so, today was one of the only days we could go before it ended.

once we arrived, we bought our wristbands and started walking around all together until matt told us, “listen. i know you guys have been dying to come here, but..” matt starts to speak, but i tune him out, making jokes with nick and madi.

“…so since im the only one who knows how to drive, you have 5 hours. meet back at the ticket stand at 11. if you guys aren’t here, im leaving you all. dead ass. you guys got that?” he announces.

me and chris nod at him in sync.

“alright, you can go.” matt says, shooing us away.

chris almost runs away from his brother, dragging me along with him.

MATT’S POV ;;

“i feel like im raising some damn kids with those two.” i sigh, looking at madi and nick

“just let them be. they’re in loveeee” nick laughs, making kissy faces at madi.

“now im raising four kids.” i chuckle

YOUR POV ;;

and that brings us here,

“c’mon y/n! we only have a few hours let’s make it worth our while!” chris exclaims, dragging me in the direction of the bumper cars.

“chris, 5 hours is more than enough time to enjoy ourselves.” i breathe heavily due to him pulling me all the way to the other side of the fair just to get to the bumper cars.

“yea.. but we have to go on every ride and we gotta eat. duh.” he rolls his eyes playfully

“okay okay,” i giggle, “so i’m guessing you wanna go on the bumper cars first, huh?”

“you know me too well, baby.” he smiles, giving me a sweet, soft kiss on my lips, “let’s get in line before it gets too long.”

“wait! i forgot something!” i urgently say.

“what is it, mama?” chris asks, turning around to look at me with a bit of worry in his voice.

i pull his face down to mine and make his mouth meet mine, giving him another soft peck.

“just wanted to kiss you again.” i speak, a smile growing on my face

chris smiles back at me before walking into the line for the bumper cars.

we spent the next four and a half hours riding rollercoasters, goofy kiddie rides and other things. of course we took a snack break and shared a funnel cake with a snowball, but other than that, we were running each other all over the fair grounds, trying to figure out what to get on and what games to play next. chris ended up winning me a gigantic, fluffy, stuffed animal while i beat him in a water gun game, winning a luigi plushie. although i gave it to him anyway since i felt bad for beating him.

but as we approached 11 pm, we had one last ride to get on.

“baby, my feet are wearing and it’s almost 11, can we go wait in the car for nick and the others?” i groan

“just wait, ma. we got one more ride to go on.” he smirks, walking towards the ride, holding my hand like he has been the whole time.

we end up getting in the line to the ferris wheel and surprisingly, there only four people in front of us.

“see? it won’t take us too long, baby” he explained, “it’ll be like 30 seconds.”

“chris, i don’t care how long it takes as long as im with you and as long as we get back to the others by 11.”

he smiles at my reassurance and waits for our turn to get on the ride. once it’s our time to hop on, we do so. we get in the cart and wait for it to start. i lay my head on chris’ shoulder, a comfortable silence between us.

“hey, y/n, baby?” he speaks up

“yes, chris, my love?” i respond, my head still on his shoulder, the ride moving now. we were nearing the top, the view of the fair and the highway below us.

he brings my chin up with one finger to meet his face. he kisses me, slow, soft and passionately. it’s perfect. he’s perfect.

i giggle, “that’s all you wanted to do?”

“no. i also had to tell you this.. i love you, y/n” he announces genuinely.

i quietly gasp, he’s never said that before.. is he serious? “do you mean that, chris?” i ask in disbelief.

“im so serious.” he answers.

“i love you too, chris.” i say, leaning in for another kiss.

only to get cut off by the ride jerking to a stop.

“uh oh..” he murmurs

“CHRISTOPHER OWEN STURNIOLO. ARE WE FUCKING STUCK?” i yell at him

“oops.. SORRY!” he quickly apologizes.

i sigh and rub my temples. just wait until madi and the others hear this fucking story.

——————————————————————————————

mora speaks (again) ;; i thought this was really cute and funny 😭 or maybe im just cringe and unoriginal 😔 BUT LMK IF U LIKED THISSS BC I DID 💪🏾 also requests are officially OPEN so ask away my lovesss. toodles !! (p.s. this is my second fic EVER go easy on my pretty please)

tag list ;; @sturniolos-blog 🍵

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fluff #fanfic #fan fic writing #fan fiction #youtuber #youtube #kiibichio

[ramshacklerumble]

For the OC ask meme!

9 and 12 (fave teach and fave event/role in it)

Nine has been answered here! But twelve—!

stitch event, my beloved. spoilers ahead since it hasn’t hit en servers yet

(this also wound up kinda long but its because its crucial to me okay)

it was a tie between this and the ghost marriage event, but storyline wise i have to go with lost in the book with stitch because it’s the event that officially launches the 💖KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE 💖 factor within the quasi-glorious and utterly exhausting misadventures of one gia yugo.

working with the assumption this is the final escapade of the trial by fire that was gia’s freshman year, one would think the approach of summer vacation would give them some semblance of comfort. once everyone takes their leave, gia and grim get left with the run of the school grounds— something gia fully planned to take advantage of in preparation of sophomore year.

suddenly being stuck on a magic island certainly put a pause on things. and gia…doesn’t seem to mind… like at ALL.

to everyone’s surprise, the normally straight-faced, busy-bodied prefect of ramshackle dorm is having the time of their life. smiling, openly playful, quick to joke— even volunteering to sing at the campfire alongside floyd and stitch’s ukulele strumming— ace initially worries gia might have hit their head when no one was looking.

after some needling on his part, a conversation that takes place during his suisui wear vignette when they go out on patrol, gia finally tells him despite being stranded on an island, they can’t help but feel…happy that it happened.

it’s a tad selfish, they admit. but while they were hearing everyone’s plans for summer vacay back at the library, there’d been this sense of bitterness welling up inside them. they were going to be stuck at school stewing over the threat of what their future held while everyone else got to go home and spend time with their families or whatever.

they didn’t have to think about what was going to happen after graduation.

gia on the other hand isn’t sure what comes next and that terrifies them. but they’ll deal with their crushing fear of the future when they get back to school, for now they’ll take the island for the breath of fresh air that it is.

yeah, okay, being stranded isn’t exactly a vacation— but it’s a bit of a ‘been there, done that’ type of deal. in comparison to their arrival at night raven, being stuck on an island with perfect weather, tons of food, and an alien that can make anything out of everything is a cake walk.

and besides…even if they do wish deuce was there enjoying the sea breeze with them. they’ve got ace, don’t they?

there’s a little more to this convo i’d like to flesh out, but there is a notable shift between gia and ace during the final days on the island. they are almost inseparable, often making up excuses to pair up for the day’s chores and generally having fun together.

ace comes to realize that this “new gia” isn’t actually new and in fact, he’d been catching glimpses of them throughout the school year. it’s the reason why he sticks by them even when things get real fucking bad, real fucking quick.

he’d sooner go through another ten overblots scenarios than verbally admit this, but in truth, he’s come to deeply care for this weirdo. the thought of someday they might not be there anymore leaves an awful taste in his mouth.

when the time to leave on the spaceship comes and they’re rocketing towards the atmosphere, ace sees this side of gia already beginning to slip back into hiding. before he can really stop himself, he tells them not to shut themself in again. they’re gonna have just as much fun together as they did on the island when they get back to school, got it?

i cannot explain how upset i was when the group wakes up with no recollection of everything that happened— the ‘group forgets the entire adventure they went through at the end of it all’ trope is the bane of my existence BUT we see that the group has an inkling that SOMETHING happened between them and i’m running with that SO—

gia didn’t get the chance to reply to ace’s statement on the ship, but they are absolutely BEAMING after they wake up, look at him and say: i feel like…we were just talking about something.

and ace is confused, more so a little stunned by how natural the smile looks on gia’s face, but he can’t quite shake the feeling either.

no one can quite put a finger on what happened, even though everyone suddenly has the urge to have an outing to the beach together despite the majority of this group never having hung out together in such a way, but no one fights it either.

gia personally is excited to have something to look forward to for once.

when the time to go meet at the beach comes, there is the reoccurring phenomenon of group déjà vu they all just decide to shrug at. but for ace, he gets hit by it the hardest whenever he steals a glance at gia.

they dont look any different, save for the smile they shoot him when they catch his eye.

(hey but gar isn’t gia shipped with floyd. yes, my love. they are. and they’re shipped with ace too. it’s eventually a polycule that forms after they all graduate named dragon roll— hey dont run, dont run i promise i make it make sense coME BACK—)

wanna send an ask or get some yourself? here!

#if gia’s freshman year is isekai then sophomore forwards it’s love is war levels of rom-com #ask me about dragon roll i will not shut up #twst #twst oc #yuusona #ace trappola #ace trappola x oc #twisted wonderland oc #oc ask game #gia yugo #gar’s art #gar’s oc #oathofoaks #giace #guys i spent like 4 hours typing this up